Category: English

I am intersex, and I am secretly in love with my cold, aloof roommate. Secretly, I look at his photos in the dorm to comfort myself, biting my lip to keep from making a sound. On the surface, I fight him tooth and nail, engaging in a fierce academic rivalry, chasing each other relentlessly. Until my cold roommate accidentally discovered my secret. He started liking to pull open my bed curtains in the middle of the night and climb into my bed. “Be good, don’t move. “You don’t want them to know either, right?” 1 “Why does it smell like blood? Is anyone injured in our dorm?” “No, I think I smell it too.” After confirming none of them were hurt, they all turned their eyes to me. “Jamie, are you hurt?” I was on the phone with headphones on. Hearing this, I coldly lifted the bed curtain: “Not me.” I turned over, “I’m on the phone with my girlfriend, don’t disturb me.” “Oh, girlfriend, calling so affectionately.” I was the first in our dorm to get into a relationship. Of course, this is fake. I know, someone like me, it’s already hard to have a normal relationship. As for a girlfriend, of course, there isn’t one. I have an unspeakable secret. I am intersex. Although I look no different from a normal man on the outside, I possess female organs, and I have my period every month. This troubles me a lot. So I use the excuse that I have a girlfriend. This reason gives me a chance to openly go to the supermarket to buy sanitary pads for my “girlfriend.” But actually, I buy them for myself. Because I am different from others. I am withdrawn, cold, don’t like communicating with people, avoid intimate contact, always look unapproachable, actually just afraid others will discover my secret. To act realistically, I read the lover communication checklist on my phone, using my naturally husky voice to read out: “Like you, of course I like you, I will never break up with you. “We can meet this weekend, hold on a bit.” After reading these, I made kissing sounds to the phone, “Kiss one, bye-bye, see you weekend.” Then, I hung up this call that didn’t exist at all. Exhausted. But precisely because of this, my roommates firmly believe I have a girlfriend. They even joke: “Jamie, your girlfriend is so clingy.” “So envious, when will I get a girlfriend?” “Give up, look at Jamie’s face, not to mention girls want to date, boys want to date too.” I threw a pillow at his face: “Try talking nonsense again?” “Okay okay okay, I won’t talk nonsense.” Every time we played around, I would subconsciously look at Adrian. This is the roommate sleeping on the bunk opposite me. The person is very cold, state top scholar, academic god, GPA always first, looks like a movie star, countless pursuers, but all rejected coldly. Whenever my roommates joke about my girlfriend, only he remains silent. Seems to hate the fact that I have a girlfriend. Could he also be jealous that I got a girlfriend before him? But clearly he could have a girlfriend, so many girls want to date him. Because of abdominal pain, after the call, I had no strength to play with them, shrinking in the quilt sweating cold sweat. Just at this time, my bunk creaked. I was shocked to find my roommate actually climbed onto my bunk. His warm body slowly approached me, bringing a confusing sense of oppression. His legs tightly clamped my legs, knees pressed between my legs, as if to confine me in a narrow space. His body supported on both sides of my body, a pair of hands covered my forehead wet with cold sweat, frowning slightly: “Are you feeling very bad? Why didn’t you say?” Looking straight into Adrian’s deep eyes, I suddenly became exceptionally nervous. “Can you walk? I’ll take you to the hospital.” “No need to trouble you!” I couldn’t wait for him to leave now, “I’ll just take some painkillers myself.” At such a close distance, I was afraid he would smell the blood on me. Adrian looked at me a few times, speaking slowly: “Okay.” When he got up from me, I breathed a sigh of relief. But just then, Adrian suddenly said: “I seem to smell a bit of blood, are you hurt? “Let me check.” I was about to cry: “No need, really no need.” But the next second, Adrian confirmed no injury outside my quilt, and wanted to lift my quilt. My heart hardened, and I bit his hand fiercely. Adrian hissed. He finally didn’t want to check anymore: “Sorry.” Then, he went down without saying a word. I suddenly felt very guilty. If… if I were a normal person, I should be able to get along with Adrian normally. 2 At night, while everyone was showering, I walked into the bathroom. When applying for this school, I chose it because there was a private bathroom here. After showering, the sticky and damp place finally became refreshing again. I put my underwear in my basin, planning to wash off the blood stains. Just at this time, a roommate suddenly knocked on the door: “Jamie, can I come in and get something?” I was so scared I dropped the basin, making a loud noise in the room. “Jamie, what’s wrong?” Saying that, I saw the bathroom door handle turning. “Don’t come in!” I nervously draped the bathrobe over myself. Adrian stopped the roommate who wanted to enter, voice cold: “Jamie is from the South, not used to having people around when showering.” “Oh, so that’s it, sorry.” “No… no problem.” Although it was a false alarm in the end, my heart was still throbbing with fear. After showering, I carefully hung the clothes in the basin on the balcony. From the corner of my eye, I saw Adrian’s lips rubbing the hand I had bitten. I suddenly felt very guilty. I must have bitten him painfully. He must hate me more now. At night, after all roommates went to sleep, I took advantage of the quiet night, turned on my phone, and admired Adrian’s photos in the dim light. These photos were secretly taken by me when he wasn’t paying attention. Actually, besides my body, my orientation is also different from ordinary people. In high school, Adrian was the academic god of the neighboring school. In every joint exam, he was number one. All along, I took him as my target for study. When I knew I was admitted to the same school as him, I was so excited I almost split apart. To not expose that I liked him, I treated him as a competitor on the surface, trying hard to compete with him for GPA. No one would think in the direction that I liked him. Sometimes I think, if I were a normal man, I would probably actively become good friends with him, instead of being just roommates with a lukewarm relationship like now. I like him. Especially since he sleeps right opposite me. I listened to his even breathing, comforting myself with his photos. I bit my teeth hard, not letting myself make a sound. The dorm was very quiet, quiet enough to hear everyone’s breathing. But just then, I couldn’t hold back, accidentally let out a muffled groan. I was instantly alert. The curtain of the opposite bunk moved. Adrian seemed to turn over, didn’t wake up. I held my breath and listened for a long time, finding no other movement indeed, then relaxed, walked to the bathroom to wash my hands, despising myself immensely inside. If Adrian knew a deformed person like me had improper thoughts about him, he would probably be disgusted to death. I must keep this secret firmly hidden in the bottom of my heart. 3 That weekend, I went out early. After all, my persona is having a girlfriend who is stuck to me like glue, but in a different school, we have to date every weekend. Because I didn’t enjoy myself last night, so tonight, I planned to stay outside alone for a night. I sent a message in the group: [Cover for me during room check, I won’t come back tonight.] Roommate Leo laughed at me: [What, getting a room with girlfriend outside?] I replied: [Don’t talk nonsense.] Leo: [Don’t be shy, we all understand, be gentle to the girl, remember to use protection.] I didn’t know how to explain. Or, just let them misunderstand like this? While I was hesitating, Adrian messaged me: [During room check, I won’t help you. [I don’t recommend you get a room with your girlfriend so early, you don’t have the ability to be responsible yet.] I suddenly felt rebellious: [Stop lecturing me, Leo will help me tonight, I really might not go back today.] Leo said: [Don’t worry, bro will definitely help you.] Adrian didn’t reply to me for a long time. About five minutes later, Leo suddenly sent me a private message: [Why is Adrian weird, he just took his coat and went out with a gloomy face.] I didn’t think much. He probably has his own business. Around eight in the evening, someone knocked on my door. I asked: “Who is it?” Adrian’s voice sounded outside: “It’s me.” I opened the door in surprise: “How did you know I was here.” Adrian lowered his eyes: “Because the hotel you stay in is my family’s property.” Heard early on that Adrian is the son of the richest man in North City, family properties all over the country, indeed true. I was a bit nervous: “What are you here for?” Adrian looked at me, shook the bag in his hand: “Afraid you’d forget, brought you protection.” My face suddenly turned scorching red. His gaze swept inside, voice low: “Where’s your girlfriend?” I nervously pulled my clothes, started lying: “She… she hasn’t come yet.” Adrian’s face became even uglier. He slowly approached me, breath spraying on my neck: “Are you really going to do that kind of thing? Do you need me to teach you?” I retreated a step nervously: “No, no need, she has something to do tonight, not coming.” Adrian’s eyes fell on me: “Since that’s the case, can you accompany me tonight. “I’m a bit sad tonight.” 4 Adrian looked like he was really sad. I didn’t think much, invited Adrian into the hotel room. Finally, somehow things evolved into me drinking with Adrian. I couldn’t help asking him: “What’s wrong with you? Why are you sad?” Adrian gazed at me deeply: “The person I like always avoids me.” My heart suddenly skipped a beat: “You, you have someone you like?” Adrian hummed lightly “Mmh”. Now, my mood suddenly became messy. “Then, what kind of person is she?” “He, very beautiful, very hardworking, excellent academic performance, the only shortcoming is always trying to stay away from me.” I didn’t understand. Being liked by Adrian, what a lucky thing. Because of my deformed body, I didn’t even have the courage to like him. Because of sadness, I sipped wine mouthful by mouthful. Originally wanted to comfort myself with his photos after Adrian left, didn’t expect to be heartbroken before anything started. In the end, I got drunk, stood up swaying: “I’m going to shower.” Adrian supported me: “You can’t even stand steadily, let me help you to shower.” I shook him off: “Don’t need you!” I didn’t know where this inexplicable anger came from. I wanted to unbutton my shirt, but found my hands became clumsy, buttons wouldn’t open. “I’ll help you.” Adrian approached me, cold fingers brushed my bare chest, taking off my shirt easily. Then, his fingers slid down, about to take off my pants. I hurriedly pushed him away, guarding my belt tightly: “No need for pants.” I walked into the bathroom, took off my pants, found my underwear stained with blood again. Pants fell to ankles, my dignity also gone to nothing. The moment I smelled blood, I suddenly felt unprecedented anger. I turned on the shower, scrubbing myself hard as if punishing myself, washing this organ that shouldn’t grow on me. I washed hard, skin rubbed red by me. Water from the shower poured over my head, I couldn’t tell if I was crying. Just then, my foot accidentally stepped on the soap on the floor, fell heavily. Adrian opened the door hurriedly: “I heard a loud noise, are you hurt?” I had my back to him, legs spread, naked on the floor, uncovered. Then, I saw his pupils constrict. Bad! My secret was all seen by him.

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I’ve been having the same strange dream repeatedly. In the dream, I’m entangled with a man, indulging in endless nights of passion. But I don’t know him. Later, I reported a female classmate for cheating on her final exams, nearly costing her her degree. Furious, she called in her powerful, influential uncle to back her up. Everyone thought I was finished. I looked up and saw the man. I thought, yeah, I’m definitely finished. Last night in my dream, I kissed him too hard and bit his lip— Wait. Why does he actually have a cut on his lip?! 1 The moment Julian Sterling appeared, I thought I was dreaming again. I pinched my thigh hard to make sure I was awake. Chloe Sterling stood beside him, smug and triumphant. “Willow, my uncle is here. It’s not too late to apologize.” I didn’t hear a word she said. I was just staring at Julian’s face. How could this be? He looked exactly like the man in my dreams. Striking features, an impeccable suit. And the most damning part—his mouth. There was a tiny red mark at the corner of his lips. Exactly where I had bitten him in my dream last night. Is this a coincidence? “Willow, are you listening to me?” Chloe grew impatient, raising her voice. “I said apologize! And you need to make a public statement that reporting me for hiring a test-taker was slander, that you deliberately threw dirt on my name!” I pulled my gaze away and looked at the claws-out Chloe. “I refuse.” “Are you crazy?! Do you know who my uncle is?! He’s a shareholder at Apex Corp. With a snap of his fingers, your new offer from Apex is gone. You’ll be blacklisted by every major company. You’ll be finished!” “Then let me be finished.” I looked up, locking eyes with Julian. Word by word, I said, “Either way, I will never back down.” 2 Walking out of the dean’s office, my classmates guiltily avoided my gaze. Because just now, they all gave false testimonies. Everyone knew Chloe hired someone to take her exams. Including the counselor and some professors. But they chose to turn a blind eye. Even after I reported her, they actively lied for her. The reason was simple: Chloe was our school’s famous nepo baby. The Sterling family was already rich. But ever since her uncle, Julian, took over the family business, their wealth skyrocketed like a rocket. From malls to theme parks in this city, he built them. Julian also had stakes in many major corporations. Offending Chloe meant offending Julian. Even though this tycoon wasn’t even thirty yet, he was already a powerful figure no one dared to cross. Except me, the thorn in everyone’s side. If the report was substantiated, Chloe might not graduate. Panicked, she summoned her uncle, who was on a business trip abroad, to back her up. My roommate followed me, trying to persuade me earnestly. “Why bother? We’re about to graduate. Just endure it and it’ll pass.” “You endure it if you want. I won’t.” “Sigh, her uncle is powerful. There’s nothing we can do.” “That’s not what you said when she copied your thesis.” My roommate choked, unable to refute. Chloe was in our dorm. She was arrogant and looked down on everyone. But she bullied me the hardest. At first, I didn’t understand why. Later I found out it was because of a senior. Chloe used to have a huge crush on him. One day, I accidentally wore the same jacket as him. People teased us, saying we were wearing couple outfits. The senior smiled and said just two words: “My honor.” Chloe held a grudge against me for that. Yes, for something that petty. In fact, I didn’t even have that senior’s number. Chloe liked many boys afterward, but her hatred for me never changed. I returned to the dorm and continued organizing evidence of Chloe’s cheating. Around me, my roommates started gossiping. “Did you guys see Julian Sterling today?” “I did! He’s even younger than I thought.” “I heard he’s only seven years older than Chloe.” “So handsome, oh my god. Does anyone know if he’s married? Does he have a girlfriend?” “Chloe says he does. But even if he were single, we wouldn’t stand a chance. People like that are too far out of our league.” “True.” Listening to their conversation, I zoned out slightly. I thought of the strange dreams I’d been having lately. In the dream, “Julian” shed his impeccable suit, and I let go of all my defenses. Sinking, venting. We couldn’t speak in the dream, only possessing each other through action. But the strange thing was, before today, I didn’t know Julian. So how could I dream of him? 3 Thinking about it, there was only one possibility. Maybe I had glimpsed his photo inadvertently somewhere? I thought I forgot, but my subconscious remembered him firmly. And then projected him into my dreams. That’s the only explanation. As for the wound on Julian’s lip. It must just be a coincidence. Wet dreams are embarrassing to talk about, but as long as I don’t say anything, no one will know. To avoid dreaming of him again, I didn’t sleep until dawn. At noon, my roommate woke me up. “Willow, wake up. Someone’s looking for you.” “Who?” “Julian Sterling.” I opened my eyes instantly, meeting my roommate’s gossipy expression. “He’s downstairs. Hurry up.” I washed up quickly and went downstairs. Julian was exceptionally tall, his back straight. Even standing in the corner, he attracted most people’s attention. He looked me over and said, “Insomnia last night?” My eardrums felt like they vibrated. Because of those dreams, I had guessed countless times what his voice would sound like. Now I finally heard it. Deep, magnetic. “How did you know?” I asked. “You have dark circles under your eyes.” “Oh. What do you want?” “I heard from Chloe that you want to post her story online?” “If the school continues to cover for her, I will.” Julian pondered for a moment. “The company is fighting a PR battle recently. Can you make an exception? Name your conditions.” “No.” I refused flatly. “Bowing to people like you once means never standing up again.” “People like us?” Julian raised an eyebrow, confused. “Yes, privileged people like you. You package yourselves as glamorous, but underneath, you’re rotten flesh, living by sucking the blood of ordinary people.” Julian didn’t get angry. But after a moment of silence, he asked a baffling question: “Is that how you see me?” “Duh. You and Chloe are a loving family. Given what your niece is like, as her elder, could you be a good person?” Leaving that sentence behind, I turned to go upstairs. Julian suddenly called me again. “Willow.” “What else?” He paused for a moment and said, “Go to bed early tonight. Get a good sleep.” 4 Sleeping early was impossible. I had a part-time shift tonight. Chloe wasn’t exaggerating. I really could lose my offer and be unable to find a job for a while. Therefore, saving money to move to another city became very important. The convenience store was open 24 hours, and I had the night shift. Standing guard until 6 AM, I finally got off work. But I was too sleepy. My eyelids were so heavy they felt glued together. No, maybe… I really fell asleep. Because I saw Julian. A black Maybach was parked on the deserted roadside, and he was staring straight at me. It was a dream. It had to be a dream. I walked straight over and said, “Don’t you only appear in dreams at night? It’s 6 AM, why are you still here?” Tested and verified, I only dream of him when I sleep at night. Not during the day. Julian didn’t speak. This was normal because, in the dream, no matter what we said, the other person couldn’t hear. Seeing his abstinent look, I gritted my teeth in hatred. “You look fine here, why are you so detestable in reality?” I reached out to rub his face. He didn’t resist. He even patted the leather seat, signaling me to get in. I climbed into the car decisively and straddled him. A familiar position. We had tried this many times in dreams. Julian habitually adjusted his legs and angles to make me more comfortable. “Your niece bullied me, the counselor covered for her, and you covered for her too. “But you have no idea what she did to me. “I just accidentally bought the same dress as her, and she cut mine into shreds. “She said I was shameless for wearing a knockoff. But how would I know that brand? Even if it was a knockoff, I saved money to buy it.” Julian’s gaze trembled slightly. “And now? I just revealed a fact, and you want those companies to blacklist me…” Since “Julian” couldn’t hear, I poured out all my grievances from reality. Finally, I bit his shoulder hard. “I don’t want to dream of you anymore. This is the last time.” Julian suddenly grabbed me, his grip strong. “No, I don’t agree.” I froze. How did he speak? Wait, how could I hear him speak? Hold on, my head is spinning— Just then, Julian spoke again. “Willow, you’re not asleep. This isn’t a dream.” This time, I heard it clearly. At the same time, there was a knock on the car window. “Uncle, why did you call me out so early?” Chloe mumbled.

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My parents have a unique condition. They claim to suffer from Memory Confusion Syndrome. For my entire life, they’ve mistaken me for their adopted daughter. And they’ve mistaken our housekeeper’s daughter for their own flesh and blood. All their tenderness, all their love, was reserved for her. They took her to lavish restaurants, sent her to the best universities abroad, and paved her future with money, ensuring her path was smooth and triumphant. Meanwhile, I, their biological daughter, was a stranger in my own home. I ate leftovers, slept in the guest room, and fought my way into college on my own merit, even earning my own tuition. At first, I didn’t mind. I even searched desperately for renowned doctors, hoping to cure my parents. I believed that once they were well, they would finally see me as their daughter. That hope shattered the day the housekeeper’s daughter returned from her studies abroad. My parents went on national television and publicly declared that she would inherit everything—the family fortune, the company, all of it. The hospital report in my hand, another in a long line of them, clearly stated: “Neurological systems normal.” That was when I finally accepted the truth. My parents didn’t love me. So I stopped hoping. I laid the inheritance papers my grandfather left me on the table before them. “Starting today, you and your little family can leave. You’re not welcome in my house anymore.” 1 “Ms. Tepper, perhaps we should run the tests one more time? It’s possible the new equipment isn’t calibrated correctly…” the doctor suggested, noticing the dark expression on my face. I looked at the number on the report—103—and let out a bitter laugh. “There’s no need. If the 103rd test comes back normal, then the machine isn’t the problem.” If the machine and the doctors were fine, then the problem was with them. In the end, it was simple. My parents had felt no love for me from the moment I was born. They didn’t want the responsibility, so they invented a lie. And I was foolish enough to believe it for all these years. I had spent my life not only coaxing them to come to the hospital for check-ups but also growing accustomed to their beatings and their cold indifference. If my grandfather hadn’t told me, over and over before he died, “They are your parents, Elara. You must believe they love you,” I might have given up sooner. But Grandfather, I believed those words for twenty-five years. Today, I just can’t lie to myself anymore. On the television screen, my parents were sitting pressed close to the housekeeper’s daughter, Jenna. They looked like the perfect, happy family. The host gushed, “Wow, Mr. Tepper, it’s clear how much you adore your daughter. But there are rumors that you have another daughter.” “I believe she’s currently an intern at your company. By leaving all inheritance rights to Jenna, are you not concerned about causing a rift between the sisters?” My father didn’t deny it. He answered magnanimously. “Elara was a child my wife and I sponsored during a charity trip to a poor, rural area. Strictly speaking, she is our foster daughter and has no right to be involved in our family’s affairs.” “We raised her, which was a great kindness. Without us, she’d probably still be stuck in some forgotten town with nothing. If she dares to fight Jenna for the family fortune, I won’t hesitate to throw her out.” “After all,” he concluded, “nothing is more important than my daughter.” His declaration of love earned a round of applause from the studio audience. The nurse watching the TV next to me sighed. “Wow, he really spoils his daughter. The CEO of a public company… I wish I had a father like that!” The words were like acid in my ears. The host pressed on. “I have one more question. Your wife’s maiden name is Wallace, and your last name is Tepper. Why did you name your daughter Jenna Sullivan? Is there a special meaning?” The blunt question seemed to stump my father. My mother, who had been sitting quietly, spoke up. “Jenna was lost for a time when she was young. It took us a great deal of effort to find her.” “She has a kind heart and has never forgotten the kindness of the family that took her in, so she was reluctant to change her name.” This performance only enhanced their image as loving, understanding parents. The internet was flooded with comments. “To have parents who love her so much and are so accepting… she’s won the lottery of life.” I watched in silence, then quietly pulled out my phone and dialed a number. “Mr. Howell, please bring the papers. It’s time for me to sign.” 2 After I pressed my thumbprint onto the document, Mr. Howell reviewed the agreement one last time. Satisfied, he stood and bowed to me. “Ms. Tepper, as of today, you are the official heir to all Tepper family assets. You hold absolute authority to hire and fire within all subsidiary companies and foundations of Tepper Industries.” “It is my honor, on behalf of your grandfather, to pass the responsibility of the Tepper family into your hands.” “From now on, I will serve as your personal executive assistant, guiding you in taking control of the company and providing you with the best teams at your disposal.” I helped Mr. Howell up, signaling that he didn’t need to be so formal. “Mr. Howell, you’ve known me my whole life. I’ll be counting on your support. Please, there’s no need for such ceremony between us.” “I’ll be at the office tomorrow to make some personnel changes. I’d like you to be there with me.” “Of course.” After confirming the time, Mr. Howell and his team departed, leaving me with a secure phone for any emergencies. Once it was all done, a wave of relief washed over me. Just then, a message popped up on my phone—a birthday greeting from my service provider. I realized it was my birthday. I think I used to celebrate it. It was just so long ago, I’d forgotten. I lay down on the living room sofa and, without realizing it, drifted to sleep. I was jolted awake by a sharp tug on my ear and a shove that sent me tumbling to the floor. “Who said you could sleep here? Get up!” The pain cleared my head. I thought my parents were back, but the face staring down at me was both strange and familiar. Maria. Jenna’s mother. Our housekeeper. “Look at you, a pathetic mess. Lying on the sofa in your dirty clothes. Do you think this is your house? Do you have any idea how expensive this sofa is?” “Get back to your room, now. My daughter will be here with the master and mistress any minute.” “After tomorrow, she’ll be the rightful heir of this family. You’re just a useless obstacle. You’d better know your place and get out of the way. You waste of space!” Since my grandfather’s death, I had become completely invisible in this house. And Maria, emboldened by my parents’ doting on Jenna, had started treating me like a servant to be ordered around. In the past, to please my parents, I had endured it. Not anymore. The moment she finished speaking, a sharp crack echoed in the room as I slapped her across the face. Maria clutched her cheek, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You little bitch! You dare hit me?” “You’re damn right I do,” I said, and slapped her again with my other hand. This time, I didn’t hold back. The blow split her lip and sent her sprawling onto the corner of the sofa. “My parents might have lost their minds, but have you lost yours too? No matter how little they care for me, my last name is still Tepper.” “You’re a housekeeper. Who the hell do you think you are to order me around?” “You—” “You what? You thought I was an easy target, didn’t you? Today, I’m going to teach you your place.” I raised my hand again and again, slapping her for five solid minutes. A familiar voice finally cut through the haze. “Elara, what are you doing? Let go of my mother!” 3 Jenna rushed forward and pushed me away, her face a mask of distress as she cradled her mother’s swollen cheek. “Elara, what did my mother ever do to you?” “Why do you do this the moment I come home? If you don’t want me here, just say so! Why take it out on my mother?” Jenna screamed, her eyes red. My father, still holding a cake box, stormed over and slapped me hard across the face. “Elara, have you lost your mind? Apologize to Maria right now!” The stinging pain on my cheek dragged me back into the past. It started the first time my parents claimed to have “Memory Confusion Syndrome.” I had accidentally spilled soup on the floor during dinner. My father forced me to kneel and lick it clean like a dog. Even then, he wasn’t satisfied. He slapped me until my face was raw and threatened to seal my mouth shut with a pair of pliers. If my grandfather hadn’t intervened, he might have actually done it. Later, he apologized, claiming he had mistaken me for someone else. He promised he would never hit me again. He bought me toys and snacks for days until I finally forgave him. I thought he would keep his word. But today, he hit me again. For a stranger’s mother. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” my mother chimed in, seamlessly joining the chorus of condemnation. “Jenna finally comes home, and we wanted to surprise her with her mother. You’ve ruined everything.” “It’s her birthday today! Did you have to destroy the mood?” I turned my head and saw the cake in my father’s hands. The frosting read, Happy Birthday, Jenna. I finally remembered. It was Jenna’s birthday today, too. “This is a birthday surprise? I thought the real surprise was the Tepper family inheritance.” My father’s face darkened. “This is our family’s business. What does it have to do with an outsider like you? Weren’t all the years of luxury we gave you enough? Now you’re after our money too?” “Outsider? Luxury?” I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside me. My mother grabbed my arm, her voice impatient. “Exactly. What’s it to you? Why are you just standing there? Apologize!” “Apologize for what? Aren’t you the ones who should be apologizing?” “You hit someone, and you think you’re right?” my father roared. “It seems we’ve been too lenient with you. Today, I’m going to teach you a lesson.” He unbuckled his belt and raised it to strike. Just then, Jenna ran over, her voice dripping with false sincerity as she grabbed his arm. “Dad, wait.” She composed herself and looked at me. “Elara, I know you’ve always hated me. But Maria is still my foster mother. What did she do to make you so angry?” “If you have a problem, take it out on me.” Seeing her walk right into it, I had to laugh. “Is she really your foster mother? Don’t you feel any shame saying that?” My words made her flinch, but she quickly recovered, her expression firm. “Yes. When I was lost, it was Maria who found me. If it wasn’t for her, my parents would never have found me.” “Jenna, why are you even talking to this bitch?” my father’s voice boomed. “We never should have taken her in. We should have let her rot in that backwater town.” Hearing him call me a bitch, a worthless piece of trash, again and again for so many years… I had had enough. “You don’t deserve to be parents. All these years, who have you been performing for?” I pulled out the stack of my parents’ neurological reports and threw them in their faces. “The doctors told me. There is nothing wrong with you!”

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1 Good news: I was reborn into a novel. Bad news: I was reborn as Stella Sterling, the fake heiress destined to be kicked to the curb. Good news: I’m the one who wrote the book. I knew that when the real heiress returned, she would use our parents’ guilt to grind me into the dust. She would even frame me for selling company secrets, getting me thrown out of the family before running me over with her car. So, at the age of four, I took a sewing needle and poked holes in every single one of my parents’ condoms. From then on, I plied them with fertility-boosting foods and vitamins, determined to bless them with an abundance of children. Finally, when I was five, my first little sister was born. The next year, my second brother arrived. … And now, on my eighteenth birthday, the real heiress was back. She stared at the eight little gremlins running around. She was speechless. … “I’m looking for Arthur Sterling. I’m his biological daughter.” Riley, the original protagonist of my book, stood before the video intercom. She held up a paternity test, her back ramrod straight. “This is the DNA report. I… I’ve come home.” Our butler, Mr. Gable, looked utterly exhausted. “Ma’am, there’s a young lady at the gate. She claims… she claims to be the master’s biological daughter.” At that moment, my mother, Eleanor, was holding the wailing, one-year-old Lydia in her left arm while her right hand was busy prying six-year-old Finn off his older sister. The household staff didn’t dare intervene, forming a nervous circle around the chaos. Hearing the words “biological daughter,” my mother froze for a split second. According to the original script, this was the moment for shock and disbelief, followed by her rushing out to tearfully embrace her long-lost child. But in reality— “Mom! Ethan stole my Iron Man figure!” “Mom! Where’s the dress I’m supposed to wear tomorrow?!” “Mom! Sam threw up! All over my homework!” “Mom!” A chorus of “Mom!” erupted from every corner of the house. My mother ran a hand through her thinning hair. “Stop ‘mom-ing’ me! Go find your big sister!” She radiated an aura of pure, unadulterated despair, the kind that silently screams, Let the world burn. “I’m not seeing anyone! Tell her to go away! I don’t need any more daughters!” Mr. Gable looked pained. “Ma’am, the young lady has a paternity test. It… it looks authentic.” My mother scratched her head in frustration. I watched from the second-floor landing, trying to stifle a laugh. In the original story, I was the villainous fake heiress. As the only daughter, I was spoiled rotten before the real heiress came back. After Riley’s return, guilt and blood ties made her the new family favorite. But now? When my older brother, Ethan, was born, my parents wept with joy and consulted astrologers for his name. When Riley was born (in the original timeline), they were thrilled to have a son and a daughter. When my third sibling, Maya, was born, my parents had faint smiles, thinking it would be nice for the girls to grow up together. By the time Finn was born, number six, my mother had decided to get her tubes tied. I talked her out of it. With the seventh, eighth, and ninth, my parents’ faces grew darker with each birth. When Lydia, the tenth, was born, my mother had finally had enough and booked the surgery. My father, after finishing a shortbread cookie, casually named the baby “Cookie.” To my mother, another child wasn’t a pleasant surprise; it was a horror story. “Ma’am, the report…” Mr. Gable ventured. “I don’t want to see it! Just leave it there!” my mother snapped, not even looking up. “Just get Lydia to stop crying! Oh, for heaven’s sake, you little monster, please stop. You’re giving Mommy a migraine!” She frantically bounced Lydia in her arms, humming a nursery rhyme. As for the real heiress at the gate, clutching her DNA report and waiting for a heartwarming family reunion? Nobody had the time. I strolled down the stairs, took the tablet from Mr. Gable, and glanced at the security feed. On screen, Riley was still holding her defiant pose. After a long wait, her expression had shifted to one of impatience and confusion. A small smile played on my lips. “Let her in,” I told Mr. Gable. “She is Father’s flesh and blood, after all. We wouldn’t want people to think the Sterlings abuse their illegitimate children.” “Miss Stella, but…” Mr. Gable hesitated. “It’s fine. If anything happens, I’ll take responsibility.” I smiled, the very picture of a gracious and understanding older sister. Mr. Gable finally nodded and opened the gates. 2 The moment Riley stepped into the Sterling family living room, her face was a spectacular canvas of emotions. The sprawling space was a war zone of scattered toys, picture books, and snack wrappers. A boy of about six or seven was riding another five-year-old like a horse, yelling, “Giddy-up! Giddy-up!” The “horse” was wailing his eyes out, snot bubbles forming at his nose. The two of them barreled straight into Riley. Caught off guard, she stumbled back. Instinctively, she lashed out, shoving the boy with all her might. “Get off me!” That push was delivered with full force. “Where did this little brat come from, daring to run into me!” Five-year-old Sam was no match for that shove. He went flying backward, his head cracking against the corner of the marble coffee table with a sickening thud. “Waaaaah!” A huge lump immediately swelled on Sam’s forehead, a trickle of blood running down from his temple. “Sam!” Maya, my third sibling, scooped him up and shot a venomous glare at Riley. “Who are you?! What gives you the right to come into our house and bully my brother!” Riley, furious, shot back, “The Sterlings only have two children, me and my brother! What makes you think this is your house?” “You, and that bitch Stella, you’re all impostors!” CRACK! The sharp sound of a slap cut through the noisy living room. Riley clutched her face, staring in disbelief at my mother, who had appeared out of nowhere. My mother’s hand was still raised, her chest heaving with rage. Riley’s eyes widened in a flash of panic. My mother roared, pointing at the swarm of children. “Let me tell you something! Every single one of these children is one I carried for nine months!” “Who are you calling a brat? Huh? Who are you calling a brat?!” Trembling with fury, my mother grabbed a feather duster from a nearby table and started whipping it at Riley. “You dare hit my son the second you walk in the door? You dare call them brats?” “Which one of Arthur’s mistresses are you the daughter of? Do you have no manners at all?!” Riley was stunned, frozen by the assault. She whipped her head around, her eyes landing on me, still watching the show from the staircase. I leaned against the railing and gave her a brilliant smile. “Mom, calm down.” I walked down and gently patted her back. “Riley wasn’t raised with us, after all. It’s understandable that her etiquette is a little lacking.” “We can teach her over time.” I turned to Riley, my face a mask of innocence. “Riley, just apologize to Mom, and we can put this all behind us.” 3 Riley gritted her teeth and dropped to her knees with a thud. The tears came instantly. “Mom… I’m sorry…” She wept beautifully, a sight that would soften any heart. “I grew up in an orphanage… I was bullied my whole life. If I wasn’t tough, people would walk all over me. I had to fight dogs for scraps just to eat. I wasn’t lucky like Stella, who got to live a life of luxury in my place. Please, Mom, forgive me.” She looked up, her eyes, so similar to my mother’s, peering timidly at her. Wow, she even managed to take a jab at me while playing the victim card. “Mom, I honestly didn’t know I had so many brothers and sisters… I just wanted a family so badly…” My mother’s tense expression softened. The fire in her eyes faded, replaced by a flicker of guilt. “Alright, get up,” she sighed, reaching out a hand to help Riley. A flash of triumph crossed Riley’s face. But just then— “WAAAAAAH!” A deafening, soul-shattering cry erupted again. This time, it wasn’t Sam. It was Lydia. “Scawy… sister is scawy… so scawy…” Three-year-old Lydia buried herself in my arms, her little face red from crying, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. She was a preemie and had always been frail. This crying fit was so intense she almost passed out. “Oh, my sweet angel!” My mother’s hand, which had been reaching for Riley, instantly retracted. She lunged toward Lydia. “What’s wrong, my darling? Did she scare you? It’s okay, Mommy’s here!” The other children who had gathered around Riley scattered, now hovering anxiously around Lydia. Riley’s eyes were locked on Lydia, the center of everyone’s attention, and she ground her teeth so hard I could hear it. I held Lydia, gently patting her back. Suddenly, Riley was standing behind me. “Owie! Hand owie!” Lydia shrieked, holding up her little hand, her cries heart-wrenching. I looked down. On the back of Lydia’s pale, tender hand was a bright red nail mark, already beading with blood. Riley saw it and immediately launched into a tirade. “Stella! What did you do? How could you pinch your own sister!?” “If you don’t want me here, I’ll leave! Why do you have to hurt our sister just to humiliate me?” Her accusation hung in the air, plunging the room into a dead silence. I almost burst out laughing. “You’re saying… Stella pinched Lydia?” Leo, my fourth sibling, scoffed as if he’d just heard the world’s dumbest joke. He walked over, grabbed my hand, and held it up in front of Riley’s face. “Open your damn eyes and look closely!” My nails were trimmed short, perfectly even with the tips of my fingers. To take care of my younger siblings, I never let them grow out, and my hands were softer than my face. I couldn’t scratch a block of tofu, let alone draw blood. Riley, on the other hand… Her hands were rough, her nails long, sharp, and pointy. She was the only one in the entire house who had them. My mother, trembling with a fresh wave of rage, pointed at the door and roared: “Take her to her room and lock the door! Let her think about what she’s done!” Two security guards then dragged a protesting Riley away like a sack of potatoes. 4 After a few days of confinement, Riley emerged much more subdued. Finally, the night of my older brother Ethan’s engagement party to a Miss Davenport arrived. This was a pivotal scene in the original book. It was also the turning point that sealed my fate. According to the original plot, Riley would drug me tonight, causing me to end up in bed with the Sterling family’s mortal enemy, the novel’s main villain, Vincent Hawke. Then, she would plant a USB drive containing company secrets, stolen from our father’s study, in my room. She would then lead a crowd to catch me in the act, cementing my reputation as a traitor. Faced with this impending setup, I decided to do nothing. I would simply wait for Riley to make her move. The party began. Riley’s eyes kept drifting toward the wine glass in my hand. I played my part perfectly, raising the “spiked” glass of red wine and downing it in one go. I even swayed a little, feigning dizziness. “Stella, are you drunk?” Riley immediately rushed to my side, her face a mask of concern as she supported me. “Let me help you upstairs to rest.” I leaned against her, nodding groggily. Riley helped me to a room, shoved me onto the bed, and quickly left, locking the door behind her. I felt someone else lying next to me. The person pulled me into their arms as my consciousness faded completely. The next thing I knew, I was being woken up by shouting. “Dad, Mom, I swear I saw Stella go into this room with our family’s nemesis!” Riley’s anxious voice came from outside the door. “That’s impossible! Stella would never cheat!” That was my mother. “Mom, Stella isn’t your real daughter, you can’t trust her!” CRASH! The door was thrown open. Riley burst in first, followed by my parents and a crowd of guests. “Ah!” Seeing the scene on the bed, Riley let out an exaggerated scream. “Stella! Dad never planned to kick you out! How could you do something like this for money and power?!” Vincent Hawke and I were sitting up in bed, “disheveled.” I quickly pulled the covers over myself. “What are you doing? Why are you barging into my room!” Vincent moved to shield me. “Riley, what is the meaning of this?” he asked, his voice cold. My father’s face was dark as he stared at Riley. Seeing her audience assembled, Riley began her performance. She pointed at me, her voice thick with tears. “Dad! Don’t be fooled by her! She’s a thankless traitor!” “Not only did she collude with the Hawke family, but she also stole confidential files from your study to give to Vincent!” “I saw it with my own eyes! It’s right under that pillow!” She rushed forward and yanked the pillow away. Sure enough, a black USB drive lay there. “You framed me!” I exclaimed, frowning at the drive. Riley held it up triumphantly. “Caught red-handed! Stella, what do you have to say for yourself?!” “You sold out the family that raised you for money! You’re worse than an animal!” “Dad, Mom, we have to throw this backstabbing snake out of our family!” Sam, my ninth sibling, ran out and stood in front of me, crying desperately. “No! You can’t make Stella leave! She’s the best to us!” “Stella would never betray the family! It’s you, you bad woman, you’re framing my sister!” Noah, number eight, stepped forward and started shoving Riley. “Dad, Mom, I also have security footage of Stella going in and out of the study!” Riley announced, trying to seal my fate. “It’s definitely her, stealing company secrets.” She shot me a provocative glance and pulled out her phone to play the video. Then, she pulled Lydia, who was standing in the corner, into the spotlight. “Lydia, can you tell all the uncles and aunts what you told me earlier? Was it Stella who went into the study and stole the files? Tell everyone.” Lydia hesitated, looking from our parents to me. “Big… Big Sister… I… I’m sorry, please don’t be mad at Lydia… It was—” Before Lydia could finish, Riley interrupted loudly. “Stella, even if you’re not Mom and Dad’s real daughter, they still cherished you and gave you everything! How could you betray them? If you hate me that much, I’ll leave! You don’t have to betray our family just because of me!” Riley’s accusations were passionate and filled with tears.

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I was adopted at three. The neighbors all said I looked like a porcelain doll. A year later, my “Mom” gave birth to a younger brother. Her long fingernails dug into my cheek: “Penny, your dad and I saved you. Otherwise, you’d have been eaten alive by some old bachelor by now.” To repay my adoptive parents, I worked hard to become a child model. Until one day, after ten consecutive hours of shooting, I couldn’t help but fall asleep. My “Mom” kicked me across the room: “Did I raise you to eat for free? Don’t come home today. Stay in the studio until the shoot continues tomorrow.” She left, holding my babbling baby brother. I stood there, lips trembling, too scared to cry. The photographer lady nearby felt sorry for me and took me home. Later, the video of my “Mom” beating me was leaked, and I lost the chance to be a child model. My adoptive parents told the photographer lady directly: “We don’t want this damn girl anymore. Do whatever you want with her. She’s not our seed anyway!” The photographer lady pitied me and adopted me. But my adoptive parents didn’t know: they were destined to be childless, but I was destined to bring fortune to my siblings. That hard-won son of theirs, his life countdown had already begun! And by throwing away their lucky star, their bad luck was just beginning. 1 [Do you guys think my daughter can be a child model? Be honest, I can take criticism.] My “Mom,” Brenda, posted a thread after taking a bunch of photos of me. Soon, the notifications hit 99+. [Holy crap, usually I roast these kinds of posts, but I can’t hate on this one.] [Ah, this is the best-looking kid I’ve seen posted so far. I swear, I’m picky.] [Very high-end, she has the vibe of a female lead in an indie film.] [She has expressiveness. These already look like commercial model photos.] … Not long after, a merchant sent a private message: [Let’s try a few sets of sample shots. If the expressiveness is okay, we’ll arrange a contract.] Brenda and my “Dad,” Rick, looked at each other, then smiles spread across their faces. Brenda pinched my cheek. Her slightly long nails hurt me. But I tried my best to smile brightly: “Mommy, does this mean I don’t have to be sent away?” Brenda patted my cheek: “Behave yourself. If you can earn big money for your brother to buy a house and a car, Mommy and Daddy will never send you away.” I nodded seriously: “Mommy, I definitely can.” Then I stood against the wall and began practicing my posture. Two hours every night. 2 My name is Penny, and I’m five years old this year. When I was three, Rick and Brenda adopted me from the countryside. It’s said they had been married for five years without children. So they found a psychic, calculated my horoscope, and adopted me. The psychic said I was born with a “Lucky Star” destiny. As long as they treated me well, all their wishes would come true. At first, they were indeed good to me. I had endless candies, and no one stopped me even if I got cavities. I had endless clothes to wear, though every set was a boy’s style embroidered with “Hoping for a Son.” Every day, Brenda would make me kneel before the Buddha statue and make a wish. My first wish was: Let Mommy successfully conceive a baby boy. Sure enough, half a year later, Brenda got pregnant. People started appearing frequently in our house, saying things I didn’t understand. “Almost four years old, too big, and a girl. Hard to resell.” “I’ll give you ten thousand at most, no more.” Brenda exploded on the spot: “Only ten thousand? I worked so hard to raise her this big. At least a hundred thousand, not a penny less.” … For some reason, the strange uncle slammed the door and left. From that day on, I never wore new clothes again. Even for meals, I had to wait until Rick and Brenda finished eating before I could dip steamed buns in the vegetable soup. Until my brother, Austin, was born. I looked at this wrinkled little person, feeling inexplicably happy. “I have a brother!” I cheered to Brenda. Brenda twisted my ear and poked my forehead: “Penny, your dad and I saved you. Otherwise, you’d have been eaten alive by some old bachelor by now. “You have to repay us. From now on, your brother is your closest family. All the money you earn must be spent on your brother, understand?” Although I hadn’t gone to school yet at almost five years old, I had long learned to read people’s expressions and knew what to say to make Brenda happy. So I quickly replied: “Okay, Mommy, I will definitely work hard to earn money for my brother.” However, when my brother was six months old, someone was willing to pay thirty thousand to take me away. That uncle said: “Girl, call me ‘Daddy’?” He bared his yellow teeth, his smile terrifying me. I didn’t want to leave Rick and Brenda. I cried desperately. Rick kicked me hard: “Cry, cry, cry, you’re crying away all the luck.” I pursed my lips, daring not to cry out loud: “Mommy, Cindy said she’s a child model now and can earn a lot of money a month. I can too, Mommy, I can earn a lot of money too. Please don’t send me away, okay?” Cindy was my good friend. She had indeed made money recently. Brenda asked around and felt that I seemed to have the potential to become a money tree. So, she asked for netizens’ opinions. Fortunately, I passed the initial test. Rick also smiled and said to Brenda: “Be a child model when young, collect a bride price when grown up. We profit no matter what.” So, to stay with Rick and Brenda, I knelt before the Buddha and made a second wish: I want to earn lots and lots of money for Mommy and Daddy. After officially becoming a child model, I started trying on clothes desperately. At first, it was 5 sets, 10 sets a day. Three months later, I could change into more than 100 sets of clothes a day. My daily income exceeded 2,000 dollars. Rick and Brenda’s savings grew, and they even started asking about the luxury apartments on the east side of the city. The smiles on their faces increased, and the beatings and scolding decreased a bit. So I knelt before the Buddha and made a third wish: Let Mommy and Daddy move into a luxury apartment soon. … Life got better day by day. More and more merchants sought me out to model clothes. But my body couldn’t take it anymore. In the end, I screwed up this hard-won money-making opportunity. 3 Four consecutive days of high-intensity shooting. I could only sleep four or five hours a day. Finally, after shooting for ten hours straight, I couldn’t help closing my eyes. The prop flower in my hand unknowingly fell to the ground. The next second, I felt myself flying through the air. Then my butt hit the corner of the table heavily. The intense pain made me cry out. But Brenda stood with her hands on her hips: “Sleep, sleep, sleep, all you know is sleep. Are you a pig? “I haven’t slept yet, what right do you have to sleep? “Cry again, cry again and I’ll beat you to death.” She picked up a hanger nearby and whipped my hand viciously. I jumped up in pain but dared not make a sound. The photographer lady, Ms. Lin, couldn’t watch anymore and quickly blocked me: “Mrs. Brenda, the child is still small, you shouldn’t hit so hard.” Brenda rolled her eyes at her: “I’m disciplining my own child, do I need your interference?” Then she turned to me and said: “Did I raise you to eat for free? Don’t come home today. Stay in the studio until the shoot continues tomorrow.” She left, holding my babbling baby brother. I stood there, lips trembling, too scared to cry. Ms. Lin felt sorry for me and gently blew on my red, swollen little hand: “Penny, does your mom hit you often?” I suddenly remembered Brenda said not to tell outsiders I was beaten. Otherwise, an uncle with a mouth full of yellow teeth who eats children would come to take me away. I was really scared. So I wiped my tears and shook my head desperately: “No, Mommy never hits me. It’s me who’s useless. I didn’t take good photos. It’s all my fault.” Ms. Lin’s eyes turned red for some reason. She hugged me. The embrace was soft and warm. My head felt a bit dizzy, and I mumbled: “Mommy, don’t leave me.” Ms. Lin stroked my hair: “Penny, how about Auntie takes you to eat first?” Although my stomach was growling, I shook my head: “Thank you Auntie, I won’t go. I have to wait here for Mommy obediently.” Seeing my stubbornness, Ms. Lin called Brenda. It wasn’t until the tenth call that an irritable voice sounded from the other end: “Calling and calling, are you collecting a debt?” “Mrs. Brenda, your daughter is still here. When will you pick her up? We are getting off work.” Brenda sneered, her voice raising a few octaves: “Penny, you stay there obediently, don’t go anywhere. Start shooting directly tomorrow morning. If I can’t find you, I’ll break your legs.” “Mommy, I will be obedient.” But before I finished, Brenda hung up. Ms. Lin sighed helplessly: “Penny, come to Auntie’s house today, okay?” I refused very seriously: “Thank you Auntie, I won’t go. I want to wait for Mommy here.” Then no matter how she persuaded, I sat on the chair without saying a word. Until my eyelids couldn’t stay open anymore, and I collapsed. Then I fell into a warm embrace again. Smelling sweet and soft. If only it could be like this forever. 4 Ms. Lin carried the sleeping me home. She took off my poor-quality clothes and changed me into her soft fleece pajamas. Under the warm yellow light, she saw bruises all over my back. There were also several cigarette burns on my waist. That was Rick’s punishment when I went into the room to see my brother and woke him up. The crimson cigarette butt extinguishing on my skin hurt so, so much. But accompanied by the smell of roasting meat, my stomach growled uncooperatively. At that time, Rick kicked me away, spitting: “Only know how to eat all day!” The scars healed with time, and I had long lost feeling. Ms. Lin patted my back gently, tears of heartache falling one by one onto the sheets. Feeling a warmth I had never known, I had a sweet dream. However, in the second half of the night, I started coughing violently. Ms. Lin took my temperature: 101.3°F. Actually, I had a low fever for many days. Brenda made me take fever reducers every day before shooting. But she left in a hurry today and forgot to leave the medicine. Ms. Lin immediately took me to the hospital. The doctor said it was the flu and prescribed some medicine. She was still worried and took me for a CT scan and a comprehensive checkup. Long later I learned that Ms. Lin originally had a younger sister who got pneumonia when she was young. Her parents didn’t care, dragging it on and on, until she finally died of respiratory failure. While waiting for the results, I suddenly had shortness of breath, and my lips turned purple. Seeing the situation was bad, the doctor immediately arranged for my hospitalization. Whenever she had a moment, Ms. Lin called Rick and Brenda. It wasn’t until 8 AM the next day that the call connected. Hearing I was hospitalized, Brenda questioned her loudly: “What right do you have to hospitalize Penny? She can earn 2,000 a day shooting. You hospitalized her, are you paying for the lost wages?” Ms. Lin was angry, her tone hurried: “She is your daughter, not your money-making tool. Is there a mother like you? Penny needs you now. As parents, shouldn’t you come to take care of her?” Brenda snorted: “Whoever wants to take care of her can go. Anyway, I won’t be the sucker. I won’t pay a penny for hospitalization. You better bring her back tomorrow, don’t delay the shooting.” Ms. Lin: “If you do this, I’ll call the police.” Brenda: “Call them. It’s my family affair, what can the police do to me?” Then she hung up decisively. Ms. Lin seemed to understand something. She turned back to the ward, looking at me on the IV drip. I asked her hopefully: “Auntie, is Mommy coming to pick me up soon?” She hummed a low “Mhm,” then asked me gently: “Penny, what do you want to eat? Auntie will buy it.” I shook my head quickly: “Auntie, just give me your leftovers, I’m not picky.” Ms. Lin’s eyes turned red again. Until night, Brenda didn’t come to pick me up. I learned later that they were busy signing the contract for the luxury apartment that day, completely ignoring me, the money tree. Under the double effect of high fever and medicine, I fell asleep. Unexpectedly, I started trending.

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A rich boy came to our poor mountain village to “experience life.” When he was hungry, I handed him a bowl. When he was sleepy, I made his bed. When he was bored, I found him entertainment. The villagers all called me a brown-noser and a suck-up, but I didn’t care at all. Who could blame me? He paid well. I saved him from a snake’s jaws, and he took me back to the city with him. His stepmother had ulterior motives, but I always managed to help him turn danger into safety. He said, “Red Bean, you really are my lucky star.” Looking at his clear yet foolish eyes, I sighed: How do I tell him that he’s mistaking a thief for his mother? Chapter 1 The biting cold wind stung my cheeks, and mud splattered freely on my pant legs from the muddy path where the snow hadn’t yet melted. I hadn’t sold much of my vegetables this morning, and my only good pair of shoes had broken. Through the hole, my big toe poked out of my torn sock, giving me a friendly wave. Sigh, what a depressing mood! A few small cars approached, and I stepped aside to let them pass. These cars looked much grander than the ones owned by Er Mao’s rich relatives in the village. Walking to the village entrance, I saw a tall boy whose attire was completely out of place with the environment. He had conspicuous blonde hair and was frowning impatiently, directing two large men carrying luggage. “Be gentle, those are my treasures inside. Don’t put them on the ground, it’s all mud.” There were too many things, and four hands were clearly not enough for the two men. “Little girl, do you know how to get to the village chief’s house?” one of them asked me. I pointed to the tallest and grandest small villa. “Thanks, can you help us carry some stuff?” I put my vegetable basket on my back and picked up the rest of their things. The blonde must be the rich young master the village chief mentioned, the one coming to the countryside to experience life. Experience what? Eating potatoes three times a day for three days? Anyway, the village chief had instructed us at a meeting to be warm and hospitable, saying that if he was happy, he would donate money to our village. Arriving at the place, I put down the things and was about to leave. The blonde took out a few bills and handed them to me. I tilted my head and looked at him in confusion. What did he mean? “Why are you looking at me? Take the money.” Oh? For me? I opened my mouth in surprise. Reaching out to take it, his fair and slender fingers contrasted sharply with my red, swollen, and cracked hands. On the way back, clutching the 500 bucks in my hand, I happily skipped along. My grandma and I only earned a few thousand a year, and this money was enough to pay for my tuition next year. As soon as I got home, Grandma nagged me: “Don’t go selling vegetables when the weather is bad. You’ll freeze and won’t sell anything anyway.” This time I readily agreed. I had a more profitable way now! Chapter 2 The next day, as soon as the sky turned light, I squatted at the village chief’s door. It wasn’t until the sun was high in the sky that the blonde came out of the house, holding something high in his hand and cursing: “Damn it, what kind of crappy place is this? Why isn’t there even internet?” My eyes lit up upon hearing this. I ran back as fast as I could and found an old fishing net that had been idle for a long time in the cowshed. There was a big hole in it, but he just said he wanted a net (internet), so a broken one should be fine, right? When I returned, he was throwing a tantrum at the two men who came with him. “No AC, no floor heating, and not even internet. I want to go back. I can’t stay here for even a day.” “Young Master, without Mr. Ford’s permission, you cannot go back.” The blonde gritted his teeth in anger, looking like he wanted to hit someone. I ran up and handed him the fishing net: “Here!” He turned his head to look down at me, staring at the thing in my hand with a puzzled face: “What for?” “The net you wanted.” He burst out laughing: “No, little village girl, this isn’t the net I wanted.” ??? Not this one? My shoulders slumped instantly. Mission failed! Chapter 3 In the afternoon, before I even reached the village chief’s house, I saw the blonde and his group from afar. I immediately followed them. After walking for a while, he turned back and asked me: “Why are you following us?” I grinned at him. “Silly,” he muttered. Although his voice was small, I still heard it and cursed inwardly: Stinky Blonde! I followed them to the riverbank. It was cold, and the lake had frozen over. The blonde took out a pair of strange shoes and showed off to me: “Little village girl, let me open your eyes with some figure skating.” I twitched my mouth speechlessly, ran to a distance to find a big rock, and huffed and puffed as I carried it over and threw it onto the lake surface. The rock slid on the ice for several meters before stopping in the center of the lake. A few dozen seconds later, a hole cracked open in the ice, and the rock fell in with a “plop”. I tilted my head and asked him: “Still skating?” His face instantly flushed red, and he pointed at the people beside him: “Damn it, is this the ice skating you suggested? Trying to kill me, aren’t you? “When we get back, I’ll have Old Ford fire you two useless idiots. Go home and eat sh*t.” Still not relieved, he kicked each of them. When his anger had mostly vented, I walked up to him and extended my hand. He naturally high-fived me: “Thanks, or else I would have been in danger.” I froze for a moment, then frowned and said dissatisfiedly: “Pay up!” Embarrassment was written all over his face, but he still had his companions give me money. On the way back, he asked: “Little village girl, is there anything fun here?” “No.” Because I never play. “What about delicious food?” “Roasted potatoes!” “What else?” “Steamed potatoes!” “Nothing else?” “Stir-fried potatoes!” “A village girl is just a village girl, no knowledge!” His tone was full of mockery. Village girl this, village girl that, I got angry! “Blondie!” Giving nicknames, who doesn’t know how to do that? “Damn, you dare call me that. Village girl!” He raised his voice a few notches, as if trying to overpower me with momentum. I’ve never lost a fight in the village. I rolled up my sleeves and roared with earth-shattering force: “Blon~~~~die~~~~” The three of them covered their ears in unison. “You… you… what a barbarian.” Blondie was suppressed by my voice and was furious. He was much taller than me, and I could see his nostrils flaring from angry panting. It felt a bit like he was looking down his nose at people, so not to be outdone, I raised my head high and made faces to fight back. “Hahaha… is your face cramping?” He held his stomach and laughed. ??? “I won,” I said proudly. “Tch, I won’t argue with a girl. Little village girl, my name is Finn.” “Red Bean.” Chapter 4 After that day, I followed Finn around all day, becoming his little sidekick. Whenever he needed help, I was always eager to satisfy him. He was hungry, I prepared a fancy potato feast for him. He shouted: “What’s so good about this stuff?” But ended up devouring several big bowls, stubbornly saying he was just giving me face because I worked hard. He was bored, I took him to play ice sliding. Sitting in a crowded big tub, he was as happy as a 3-year-old, but I was exhausted running up and down the slope, panting like the old ox in the village. However, counting the red bills he gave me every night, I giggled even in my dreams. Many people in the village started making sour remarks when they saw me, saying I was a bootlicker. I grinned and said: “Aren’t you just jealous you can’t do it?” One by one, they rolled their eyes and walked away angrily. Today the village chief told me that Finn followed Old Liu from the village up the mountain to hunt. Someone snatching my rice bowl? How can this be? I hurriedly rushed up the mountain. Luckily, there weren’t many people on the mountain in this season, and the footprints left in the snow made it easy to identify their direction. Suddenly, I heard terrified screams not far away. I quickly ran towards the source and saw Finn fallen on the ground. A meter away from him on the snow, a slender green creature was dazzlingly bright. The people with him only cared about protecting themselves, wishing they could be far away. The snake had already raised its front body, indicating it was ready to attack. Finn was my golden goose; nothing could happen to him. Without thinking too much, I raised the walking stick I prepared for the slippery road, rushed up, and swung it at the snake’s seven inches (vital spot). Hit! At this moment, I had to thank the accuracy accumulated from hitting rats at home. Afraid it would counterattack, I continued to beat it. Swing! Swing! Swing! I didn’t stop until my arms felt sore and weak. Uh! The snake had been beaten into snake paste by me. I poked the snake’s head with the stick. Bamboo viper, highly venomous! Finn was scared pale at this moment, his eyes dull. “What a pity, it’s smashed. Otherwise, we could make snake soup.” Thinking of the taste, I licked my lips greedily. “What eat? Quick… quick, let’s go down the mountain.” Finn dragged me away, as if really afraid I would take it back to stew. I looked back at the snake’s corpse. Strange! Shouldn’t snakes be hibernating in this weather? After going down the mountain, I extended my hand as usual. Finn poked my forehead, saying with hatred for iron not becoming steel: “Why are you so money-grubbing? My life isn’t something a little money can measure. You saved me once, I promise you one request. Go home and think about what you want.” Chapter 5 Grandma had a private chat with Finn. When Finn left, he said to me: “After the New Year, someone will come to pick you up.” In return, Finn’s family would sponsor my education. These years, Grandma and I depended on each other. It was hard for her to make money alone to support my schooling. Although I couldn’t bear to leave her, for a better future, this was the best choice. I left the continuous mountains and came to the metropolis with towering buildings, looking forward to the days ahead. Walking into the Ford family’s villa, I realized the village chief’s house was nothing. There was a beautiful lady in the living room; the servants called her “Mrs. Ford”. She warmly pulled me to sit down: “Are you Red Bean? Finn told us when he came back. Thank you for saving him. Stay here with peace of mind from now on. Treat this as your own home. If you need anything, just say it.” I smiled and thanked her, meeting her gaze. There was none of the disdain and contempt the servants had when looking at me. “Red Bean, what took you so long?” Finn ran over excitedly, pulling me away, “Aunt Fang, I’ll take her to see her room.” I was surprised. She wasn’t Finn’s mother. In the evening, I met the other members of the Ford family. Father Ford had a calm demeanor and was naturally dignified. Finn also had a half-brother, several years younger than us, who was very polite and well-mannered. Using my years of experience from the village gossip intelligence agency, I also found out that Aunt Fang was Finn’s stepmother. Finn’s biological mother had died of illness many years ago. However, she wasn’t the evil stepmother in worldly eyes. She treated Finn like her own son, and their relationship was very good. At the dinner table, there was only the slight sound of cutlery clashing. Everyone ate in silence. Father Ford’s phone rang. He picked it up and looked. “Where did you go the night before yesterday?” Father Ford suddenly asked Finn. “Nowhere, at home.” Finn answered casually. “Smack!” Father Ford slammed his chopsticks heavily on the table. A piece of meat I just picked up fell back onto the plate, startled by the sound, and I was at a loss. “Still lying. You went drag racing again.” Father Ford continued to question. “You knew but still asked.” Finn didn’t have any guilt of being exposed. Seeing his cynical attitude, Father Ford was furious, pointing at him and scolding: “Bastard, good for nothing. It’s bad enough you hang out with scoundrels all day, now you even dare to play with your life. Do you have a brain?” “Honey, don’t be angry. Finn is still young, teach him slowly.” Aunt Fang quickly persuaded. Father Ford was even angrier hearing this: “Still young? He’s almost an adult. Xun is several years younger than him but more sensible. “And where did he get the money to buy a car? Did you give it to him? You don’t even ask what he does with it. How do you manage the house?” “I’m sorry, blame me. Don’t be angry, it’s all my fault.” Aunt Fang apologized incessantly with red eyes. “Enough!” Finn suddenly stood up, the chair making a harsh sound against the floor. “I know you don’t like anything about me. Just come at me. It has nothing to do with Aunt Fang. Stop making things difficult for her.” With that, he flung his hand and left the dining room. Small and helpless me watched the whole process, not daring to breathe loudly. I looked reluctantly at the dining table, smacked my lips, and quietly followed Finn. I followed Finn to the rooftop. He was looking up at the starry sky with a melancholy face. I also looked up. Not as beautiful as the night sky back home. Sighing lightly, I missed Grandma. Finn turned his head to look at me and said: “Why are you following me? I don’t need comfort.” I pursed my lips: “Huh? You’re not full either?” Finn glared at me with disgust and turned his head away, ignoring me.

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Eight years of marriage, and my husband was still a stranger to our son. He always missed Leo’s parent-teacher conferences. If Leo called out “Dad!” in public, Arthur would never answer. It broke my heart every time my son would look up at me, his eyes clouded with fear, and whisper, “Mommy, does Daddy hate me?” Arthur was a man carved from ice, naturally cold and detached. Leo was an accident, a surprise that broke our child-free pact. I fought to keep him, but I could never make Arthur love him. I thought this was just how our lives would be, a quiet, constant ache. Until the day a speeding car barreled toward Leo. In that heart-stopping instant, Arthur, who had been standing right beside me, lunged forward. But he didn’t throw himself in front of Leo. He dove for the boy standing next to our son. A scream tore from my throat, ripping through the sky. Leo lay in a growing pool of his own blood. Just before his eyes fluttered shut, he looked at me, his voice a broken whisper of disbelief, “Mommy, why didn’t Daddy save me?” My gaze shifted from my son’s broken body to Arthur, who was now cradling the other boy, murmuring soft words of comfort. And in that moment, something inside me shattered completely. The truth was a cold, sharp blade in my heart. It wasn’t that he didn’t like children. He just didn’t like mine. … After two agonizing hours, the surgeons managed to pull Leo back from the brink. He was alive. The icy terror that had gripped me finally began to thaw, letting feeling seep back into my numb limbs. A nurse handed me the surgical consent forms, her expression sympathetic. “A parent needs to sign.” My eyes fell on the blank line next to “Father’s Signature,” and a tear I hadn’t known I was holding back slid down my cheek. In all his life, Arthur had never once come to the hospital with Leo. Not even now, when our son had nearly died. I signed my name in silence, my hand shaking. Just as I finished, a familiar voice, sharp with panic, cut through the quiet hum of the waiting room. “Doctor, please, look at this child! He’s burning up!” It was Arthur. He was cradling the same boy from the accident, his face slick with sweat. And the woman clinging to his arm, her face a mask of worry, was Evelyn. His first love. The air in my lungs froze. The blood in my veins turned to ice, inch by painful inch. Arthur and Evelyn had been the city’s golden couple. Their love was the stuff of legends, a whirlwind romance that was supposed to end at the altar. But it all imploded when Evelyn decided to move abroad. The breakup was ugly, so ugly it sent Arthur spiraling. He crashed his car, a wreck that nearly killed him. I was the one who sat by his hospital bed for a year, pulling him back from the brink, piece by agonizing piece. I was the one he clung to in the dead of night when the nightmares came, whispering my name like a prayer. “Claire,” he’d murmur, his voice rough with sleep and fear, “I can’t live without you.” The moment he was discharged, he’d practically dragged me to the courthouse. I never, ever imagined they would find their way back to each other. And the child in his arms… he looked just like Arthur. A perfect, miniature copy. Perhaps my stare was too intense, because Arthur suddenly looked up, his eyes meeting mine. Panic flashed across his face. He saw the cold calm that had settled over me as I turned to walk away, and he took an instinctive step to follow. But then Evelyn’s voice, a fragile, desperate cry, stopped him. “Arthur! Noah’s not breathing right!” He froze. Without a second of hesitation, he spun around and rushed back to her side. When I walked into Leo’s room, he was already awake. He was straining to lift his head, his eyes fixed on the doorway behind me, searching, hoping. The pain in my chest was so sharp I couldn’t speak. The light in Leo’s eyes flickered and died. He understood. He forced a small, brittle smile. “Daddy’s busy,” he whispered, his voice getting smaller with each word until it was gone. “I get it…” My heart clenched. I rushed to his side, gathering his trembling, bandaged body into my arms. He was crying silently, but he still looked up at me, his face a canvas of misery, and asked the question that was destroying him. “Mommy, am I a bad kid? Is that why Daddy doesn’t like me?” My poor, sweet boy. Even now, he was blaming himself. I couldn’t lie to him anymore. Tears streamed down my face. “No, Leo, no. You are the best boy in the entire world. The problem isn’t with you.” I held his small, battered body closer and finally said the words I had held back for so long. “If we get a divorce, would you want to come with me?” I didn’t care how much money Arthur had. I couldn’t leave my son with a man so utterly devoid of a heart. Leo froze, his little mouth opening as if to say yes. But his gaze drifted back to the door, to the empty space where his father should have been, and he couldn’t get the word out. After a long moment, he buried his face in my shoulder. “Wherever you go, Mommy, I’ll go,” he mumbled into my shirt. The door creaked open. It was Arthur. He looked confused. “Where are you two going?” Leo and I just looked at each other. For the first time, we were united in our silence. A flicker of surprise crossed Arthur’s face before he masked it. He walked to the bedside, his gaze landing on our son’s injuries. A shadow of guilt finally darkened his eyes. “Leo, I’m so sorry. Is there… is there any gift you want? Anything at all?” A tiny spark ignited in Leo’s eyes. He held his breath, his voice barely a whisper. “Can you just spend one day with me, Daddy?” Arthur seemed taken aback by the simplicity of the request. When he didn’t answer right away, Leo’s voice grew urgent. “Some of my friends are coming to visit me later, and I… I just…” He flushed, unable to finish the sentence. But I knew what he wanted to say. He wanted to prove that he had a father. For the past two years, kids at school had whispered that he was the boy with no dad. Once, it got worse. They’d taped a note to his back. By the time he found it, the whole school had seen the cruel words scrawled on it. “Bastard. Freak.” Leo had shattered that day. He’d gotten into a fight, earning a nasty scar on his face that served as a constant, haunting reminder. “Okay,” Arthur finally said, his voice firm. “I’ll stay with you all day today.” But the promise had barely left his lips before his phone started buzzing incessantly. Arthur’s jaw tightened, and he silenced it. A few minutes later, though, his attention began to drift again. “I’m just going to the restroom,” he announced, getting up. My fingers went numb. Seeing the vacant look in my son’s eyes, I shot up and followed him out, anger coiling in my gut. Evelyn was waiting right outside the door, tears streaming down her face, looking artfully tragic. She clutched Noah, who looked perfectly fine. “He won’t take his medicine unless he sees his daddy,” she pleaded. “I don’t know what else to do.” Then, she dropped to her knees in front of me. “Claire, I’m not trying to steal Arthur from you. But my child needs his father. Please, I’m begging you. Can’t you just lend him to me for a little while? Just for a moment?” Her voice was thick with manufactured sorrow. On cue, Noah began to wail. “Daddy! I want my daddy!” Arthur’s eyes instantly reddened. He rushed forward and pulled Evelyn to her feet. As he turned to leave with them, my voice came out, sharp and raw. “Arthur! Have you already forgotten the promise you just made to Leo?” It was always like this. Promises made, promises broken. Gifts he swore he’d buy, forgotten. Trips he planned to take Leo on, always missed. And now, he was about to crush this one, tiny, desperate wish. I threw my pride away. I lunged forward like a madwoman and grabbed his arm. “Don’t you dare go. You can’t leave!” A dark glint flashed in Evelyn’s eyes. She grabbed my wrist, her voice dripping with false sympathy. “Claire, please, can’t you find it in your heart to be a little kind? You’re a mother, too. How can you bear to watch a child suffer?” As she spoke, her sharp fingernails dug deep into my skin. “Ah!” I cried out in pain, shaking her off. The next second, Evelyn let out a piercing shriek and crumpled to the ground, pulling Noah down with her. The boy’s wails intensified. Arthur’s face contorted with rage. He spun around, and the flat, sharp crack of his hand across my face echoed in the hallway. “You venomous bitch!” The force of the blow sent me staggering backward. I tripped, and my head hit the polished floor with a sickening thud. The world spun, and I gagged, bile rising in my throat. A crowd was already gathering, their whispers like a swarm of insects. “Is that the other woman? She has some nerve, attacking a mother and her child. Shameless.” “Yeah, look at that poor little boy crying. It’s just awful.” I trembled, pushing myself up from the floor, my body aching. Arthur looked at me, a flicker of regret in his eyes, but then Evelyn let out a soft sob, and his expression hardened again. He turned back to her. “Daddy!” A broken cry came from down the hall. Arthur slowly turned. Leo was standing there, barefoot, his small body rigid as he fought back tears. “Daddy, you promised,” he choked out. “You promised you’d stay with me today.” A few of his classmates were standing behind him, their eyes wide with curiosity. Leo stared at his father, his entire body trembling, a desperate plea in his eyes that was so raw it was almost unbearable to witness. For a moment, Arthur looked torn. But then Noah whimpered “Daddy” again. That was all it took. The conflict vanished from his face. He turned his back on our son, scooped Noah into his arms, and walked away without another glance.

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Everyone who knows Damian Cross knows he treated me like a princess. I once casually mentioned I wanted a star, and the next day, there was a certificate on my nightstand naming a celestial body “Sloane.” Everyone thought he was hopelessly in love with me. I almost believed it myself. Until one day, I overheard him talking to his friends. “In love with Sloane? Don’t make me laugh. She’s just a placeholder. A pastime to keep me entertained until Audrey gets back from Paris. Now that she’s returning, it’s time to cut Sloane loose.” Hearing Damian’s words didn’t break my heart. Actually, I let out a sigh of relief. Sleeping with the same man for two months is like eating the same meal every night. I was starving for something new. I immediately turned around and gifted the ten-thousand-dollar “breakup watch” I’d bought him to a gorgeous, obedient college student who knows exactly how to call me “Ma’am.” 1 It was eleven at night when I got back to Damian’s penthouse. I kicked off my heels in the foyer and realized, a beat too late, that the living room wasn’t empty. Damian was sitting in the dark on the leather sofa. He radiated an aura of “don’t mess with me.” His side profile was undeniably perfect. Sharp jawline, brooding eyes. That’s what attracted me in the first place. It’s just a shame… Even filet mignon gets boring if you have it every day. Thinking about how he planned to dump me made me hum a little tune. I walked past him, unbothered. He finally spoke, his voice low and laced with suppressed anger. “Where were you?” “Drinks with a friend.” I finally noticed the dining table. The plating was exquisite, but the steak was stone cold. The tapered candles had burned down to awkward nubs. Rose petals were scattered across the mahogany, looking wilting and sad. I raised an eyebrow. “You did this?” His eyes were dark with possessiveness. “Why didn’t you text back? Who were you with for this long?” I glanced at my phone. I remembered chatting with Leo, the young guy I’d met. My phone had been blowing up with notifications, so I’d checked it. Leo had looked up at me with those big, puppy-dog eyes, his voice dripping with playful jealousy. “You’re so busy, Sloane. I finally get a moment with you, and you’re talking to someone else? If you’re busy, it’s okay… I’m just happy to sit next to you.” He was handsome, young, and sweet. How could I not be charmed? So, I silenced my phone. Which meant I missed Damian’s texts telling me to come home early. I’d left him waiting all night. “Sorry,” I said, sounding sincere enough. “Something important came up.” Suddenly, rows of floating text appeared in the air in front of me. It was The Commentary. The toxic peanut gallery of the universe. [So the heroine’s ‘important business’ is cheating? Disgusting.] [What kind of romance heroine stays out until midnight? She should be waiting at home!] [She needs to learn her place. She only matters because the hero chose her!] [If a man stays out late, it’s business. If a woman does it, she’s loose. She deserves whatever happens to her.] [The hero cooked for the first time! He burned his hand for her! And she’s out flirting?] [She deserves it when he goes back to his true love, Audrey. She needs to be humbled.] I rolled my eyes at the invisible text. The double standards were exhausting. “Something important” meant networking. And Leo. Technically, we hadn’t done anything but talk. Yet. 2 Still, I felt a twinge of guilt about the wasted steak. “You haven’t eaten, right? Should I… order you a pizza?” “No,” Damian said coldly. I nodded and headed for the shower. “I’ll have my assistant book you a hotel tomorrow,” Damian said to my back. “You’re moving out.” I turned around, crossing my arms. “Is this the breakup?” I was about to say, Great, deal, when he cut me off. His gaze raked over me. “Were we ever really together?” I mentally kicked myself. Damn it. I should have used that line first. Imagine how satisfying that would have been. Damian saw the annoyance on my face and misinterpreted it as pain. The corner of his mouth twitched upward. His mood instantly lifted. “I have other properties,” he said casually. “You can pick one. If I have time… I might visit.” [See? He still loves her. He can’t let her go.] The Commentary floated by. I saw it for what it was. He wanted to keep me as a side piece while he pursued his “White Moonlight,” Audrey. I’m the heiress to a fortune. I don’t do “side piece.” “No thanks,” I said. “I can afford a hotel.” “Oh, right.” I walked over to the sofa, grabbed my bag, and pulled out a stack of cash. Ten grand. I threw it onto the coffee table. “Consider this rent for the last two months. I don’t want you to feel used. I’ll stay tonight since it’s late, but I’m gone in the morning.” He frowned, disbelief written all over his face. “You’re treating my home like a motel?” I yawned, covering my mouth. “Isn’t it?” I turned to leave, but he grabbed my wrist. His eyes were intense. “Then who is your home, Sloane?” I ripped my hand away. “None of your business. You’re the one ending things. What, are you gonna miss me now?” His pupils constricted. He looked at me like I was radioactive. “Of course not.” “Good,” I smirked. “We were just having fun. It would be embarrassing if one of us caught feelings.” Damian’s face turned black. “Whoever catches feelings is a dog.” I went to the bedroom to grab my pajamas. The room was set up for seduction. Scented candles, fresh roses, and a box of strawberry condoms on the nightstand. A single rose petal had fallen right on the box. I suddenly felt nauseous. Thank god I stood him up. Eating the same meat every day really does ruin your appetite. The next morning, I checked into the Four Seasons. My phone buzzed. Damian: Where are you? I replied: Moved out. Thanks for the hospitality. Damian: Did you forget something? [She’s playing hard to get! He’s hooked!] The Commentary cheered. [She forgot her heart! She forgot HIM!] I thought for a second. Actually, I did. I Venmo’d him $500. Forgot to pay for last night’s stay. Thanks. Damian: You are unbelievable. Men are so contradictory. He wanted to break up, but now he’s mad I’m gone. 3 I saw Damian again a week later at a private charity auction. I brought Leo. And I gave him a title. Since we’d crossed the line from friends to lovers, Leo had been insatiable. Between breathless moments, he’d bite my ear and whisper, “Sloane, you have my body now. Give me a title. Call me your boyfriend.” I was weak for him. So, there we were. And there was Damian, with Audrey, his “White Moonlight” who had just returned from France. Audrey was beautiful—elegant, poised, classic. We sat in the front row. Damian and Audrey sat directly behind us. Leo interlaced his fingers with mine. I felt a burning gaze boring into the back of my hand. A friend of Leo’s walked by and laughed. “Leo, you player. Your ex is staring daggers at you. Did you hire someone to make her jealous?” The burning gaze vanished. I heard Damian scoff behind me. I ignored him. The auction was boring until a vintage, limited-edition Patek Philippe watch came up. “That watch looks nice,” Audrey whispered. “If you like it, it’s yours,” Damian declared. A few days ago, I had been looking at the auction catalog on Damian’s couch. He had asked what I liked. “Just the watch,” I’d said. He knew. He was doing this on purpose. But I hadn’t told him why I liked it. The moment I saw it, I knew it would look perfect on Leo’s strong, veiny wrist. 4 The bidding started at $100,000. I waited until the crowd thinned out. “Two hundred and fifty thousand,” I said, raising my paddle. “Two hundred and thirty thousand,” Damian said simultaneously. [Why is she bidding against him? It makes him look bad!] [She’s just jealous. She doesn’t want him buying it for Audrey.] [She’s wasting money to get his attention. Pathetic.] “Three hundred thousand,” Damian drawled. “Three hundred thousand and one dollar,” I countered. “Three fifty.” “Three fifty… and one dollar.” By the time we hit six hundred thousand, it was just the two of us. Damian’s friend leaned over. “Dude, just ask her for it. She’ll give it to you.” Damian apparently believed this delusion. I won the watch for $650,001. When the staff brought it over, Damian spoke up, cool and arrogant. “Audrey really likes that watch, Sloane. Let her have it.” [She has to give it up! He asked!] I laughed. Loudly. “You’re generous with other people’s property, Damian. If you like giving things away so much, why don’t you give me your CEO position?” I turned to Audrey. “Ms. Wu, be careful. A man who gives up on things you like this easily… isn’t reliable.” Damian looked ready to explode. I turned to Leo and handed him the box. “For you.” I smiled. “I saw it in the catalog and knew it belonged on your wrist.” Leo beamed. “Put it on for me?” I obliged. As I fastened the clasp, I glanced back. Damian was gripping Audrey’s arm so hard his knuckles were white. “Ouch! Damian!” Audrey cried out. He snapped out of his trance. “Sorry. I… I was distracted.”

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I was reborn on the day my fiancée embezzled company funds to buy a lavish gift for her “first love.” In my past life, I bankrupted myself to fill the hole she dug. This time, I didn’t. Instead, I quietly handed the evidence over to the police. During the week she was held for investigation, I broke off our engagement and vanished from her world completely. In my previous life, I spent thirty years giving her everything. In return, she never smiled at me once. She accused me of trapping her into motherhood and tried to hurt our innocent daughter multiple times. When the earthquake hit, I held up a slab of concrete to save them, crushing myself in the process. After they were rescued, she stopped the emergency team from searching for me. My daughter, whom I cherished like a pearl for twenty years, called him “Dad.” “If you hadn’t used money to force Mom to marry you, our family would have been together years ago!” And my wife, Clara, threw herself into his arms, weeping tears of joy. “Finally. We can be together openly.” So, given a second chance, I decided to grant their wish. 1 “Caleb, do you have any cash right now? Can you transfer me $500,000? Consider it an advance on the wedding costs!” The familiar, frantic voice on the phone snapped me awake. In my last life, when I hesitated, Clara stole the money from her company accounts. When she got caught, she cried and begged me to save her. I couldn’t bear to see her go to prison so young. I emptied my savings, sold my assets, and even borrowed from loan sharks to pay it back. Only later did I find out she hadn’t taken the money for a family emergency. She took it to buy a luxury watch for her high school sweetheart, Travis, just to show off. This time, I wasn’t going to be the fool. I hung up the phone. Then, I called her company’s HR department and tipped them off about the missing funds. Sure enough, the next day, Clara was taken away by the police for embezzlement. A colleague at my office looked at me cautiously. “Caleb, I heard from the boss that if Clara pays back the money, they won’t press charges. She’s your fiancée… are you going to help her? If not, she’s looking at prison time.” I shook my head, my face a mask of regret. “I want to, but I’m powerless. Half a million isn’t a small amount. Even if I sold both my kidneys, I couldn’t come up with that much cash.” My colleague nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, that’s true.” After he left, memories of my past life flooded back. I had destroyed my financial future to save her. Her parents were so grateful they pushed up the wedding date. But Clara? She believed I had orchestrated the whole thing to force her into marriage. To get revenge, she carried on an affair with Travis behind my back for decades. She even had a daughter with him—a daughter I raised as my own, loved with all my heart. And that same daughter was the one who told the rescue workers to stop looking for me. She stood there and said, “He used money to separate my mom and dad. He’s the reason we couldn’t be a family. He deserves to die.” My beloved wife didn’t correct her. Instead, she joined in. “Caleb, if you hadn’t emotionally blackmailed me, I never would have married you. The only man I ever loved was Travis.” “I never forced you to help me back then. Even without you, Travis would have saved me.” “Do you know why I hated being close to you? Every touch made me sick. You stole thirty years of my life. Now, my daughter and I just want to be with Travis.” Then they walked away, arm in arm with him, a perfect, happy family. I lay under the rubble, filled with rage, despair, and grief, until my heart gave out before help arrived. Thank god fate gave me a do-over. This time, I absolutely would not lift a finger. I wasn’t going to be the doormat. I wanted to see if Travis would actually save her, like she claimed. 2 During the few days Clara was in detention, she tried to call me constantly. I ignored every call. So, she shamelessly contacted my parents. “Clara said she just made a mistake in judgment. She invested the money hoping to make a profit for your future together.” “Caleb, you’re going to be husband and wife. You need to share the burdens. If you can help, help her. Your dad and I have some savings…” I cut my mother off. “Mom, Clara is lying to you. She stole that money for another man.” I told her everything. My mother was silent for a long time. “But… we watched Clara grow up. Could there be a misunderstanding?” “No misunderstanding, Mom. Don’t worry about it.” After hanging up, I booked a month-long cruise for my parents. If they weren’t here, they wouldn’t be caught in the middle of this mess. I didn’t expect to see Clara again so soon. Apparently, she signed an agreement with her company promising to repay the funds within two weeks, so they temporarily dropped the charges. I ran into her at a mutual friend’s gathering. Everyone avoided the topic, but the looks they gave us were awkward. I didn’t care. But when I met Clara’s gaze, filled with pure hatred, a chill went down my spine. My gut told me: She was reborn, too. Just as the conversation picked up, the door to the private room was kicked open. Travis stormed in, glaring at me. “Caleb! Are you even a man? Your fiancée was locked up, and you didn’t even visit her!” “It’s a good thing you aren’t married yet, or you would have ruined her life!” I glanced at the furious man, then at Clara. Her eyes lit up when she saw him. The tenderness in her gaze was undeniable. In thirty years of marriage, she never looked at me like that. Sure, she would pretend when she needed something. Like when she begged me to let Travis stay in my rental property for free. Or when she asked for our savings to fund his “startup.” Or when she asked me to donate part of my liver to him. Her love for him was never hidden. I just chose not to see it. I thought if I was good enough to her, she would eventually love me back. I forgot that you can’t warm a heart made of stone. My silence infuriated Travis. He grabbed my collar. “Did you hear me?!” “Clara is your fiancée! Are you really going to watch her go to jail? Are you human?” The room started whispering. “Caleb usually seems so devoted. I can’t believe he vanished the second she got in trouble.” “Husband and wife are birds of a feather, but they fly apart when disaster strikes.” I finally understood why Travis was here. He and Clara were using public pressure to force me to pay. Unfortunately for them, the reborn Caleb didn’t give a damn about public opinion. I shoved Travis away. My voice was ice cold. “You seem a lot more worried than I am. Which makes sense, considering my fiancée embezzled that money to buy you a gift.” 3 The room went dead silent. Every eye turned to Clara and Travis. Clara’s face cycled through several colors. She looked at me with open disgust. “You knew.” I looked at her calmly. “If I didn’t know, were you planning to trick me into paying it back?” In my past life, I didn’t find out the truth until after the wedding. Travis had shown up at our new house, slipping a diamond ring onto Clara’s finger right in front of me. “Caleb, you don’t mind, do you? Since you technically paid for it.” That was when I learned her “investment” story was a lie. My parents and I had sold everything to pay for a ring for another man. When I confronted her, she said it was the price I had to pay for separating them. Fine. This time, I wish them a lifetime of togetherness. I thought exposing the truth would shut them up. Instead, Travis pointed a finger in my face. “Caleb, you’re scum!” “Clara only bought that stuff because you said you liked it! She wanted it for your wedding bands!” “Now that she’s in trouble, you’re trying to pin it on us to save yourself?” Clara looked at me with teary, accusatory eyes. I knew I never said I liked any ring. But our friends didn’t know that. Their gazes shifted. “Caleb always seemed like a nice guy… I can’t believe he’s this shady.” “Poor Clara. Stuck with a guy like that.” “Clara, we’ve known you for years. We believe you.” “Break up with him, girl. He’s trash.” Everyone was comforting her. Clara thanked them, sobbing. In that moment, I was the villain. The betrayer. The scumbag. But in my last life, I cherished her for thirty years. What did I do wrong? Why did I deserve that ending? I collected myself. I ignored their performance. Real friends wouldn’t doubt me based on a few lies. The ones who did weren’t worth keeping. Seeing I wasn’t cracking, Travis got desperate. As I lifted my glass of juice, he slapped it out of my hand. It shattered on the floor. “Caleb! You ruined Clara’s life, and you’re sitting here drinking juice?!” I was tired. I looked up at him. “Clara stole money for you. The auction items went to you. How did I ruin her?” Travis sneered. “If you didn’t want the rings, we never would have gone to the auction!” “And those items are in your house, not mine!” “You claim you love her, but you’re throwing her to the wolves. Aren’t you afraid of karma?” Clara stood up and slapped me. Hard. “Caleb, I am so disappointed in you. The engagement is off!” Her friends jumped in. “Breaking up isn’t enough, Caleb. You caused this mess, you have to fix it.” “Yeah, if the items are yours, how can you let a woman pay for them? Don’t be a leech.” “If she goes to jail, how will you live with yourself?” I ran my tongue over my stinging cheek. I looked up and met Clara’s triumphant gaze. She thought having a crowd meant she won? I turned on the TV in the room and connected my phone. A video started playing. It was security footage from the auction house parking lot. Clara and Travis walking out, arm in arm. “Travis, are you happy tonight?” “Happy. But Clara… how are you going to pay back the company?” “Don’t worry. I have Caleb. He’s an idiot. I’ll cry a little, beg a little, and he’ll find a way to get the money.” “Clara, you’re so good to me…” They kissed. Passionately. Clara’s face went white. I smirked. “I accept your proposal to break off the engagement. After all, I don’t want to be an idiot.” I turned and walked out. 4 The first thing I did after waking up in this timeline was secure that footage. It cost me a favor, but it was worth it. I left the silent room behind. The video was damning. The friends who had defended her looked sick. Someone laughed bitterly. “So we aren’t friends, we’re just tools?” “Looks like Caleb wasn’t the only idiot.” “Clara, maybe spend less time plotting and more time figuring out how to stay out of prison.” They left, one by one. Only Clara and Travis remained. Clara’s eyes were red with hate. Travis looked panicked. I texted both our parents, informing them the engagement was off. I didn’t do it in person because I knew Clara’s parents would never approve of Travis. Travis was an orphan with no job, living off Clara. Now Clara was half a million in debt. Even if she sold the items—which had been bought at a huge markup—she’d only recoup half. The rest would bankrupt her parents. Without money, their “true love” would crumble. In my past life, she resented me because she thought they could live on love alone. So this time, I stepped aside. Let them try. Clara was frantically trying to sell the luxury goods, but lowball offers were making her and Travis fight constantly. She didn’t come to me. But her parents did. “Caleb, we know Clara made a mistake. We apologize on her behalf.” “She was just confused. Can you forgive her this once?” They looked ten years older. To be fair, her parents had always treated me like a son. “Uncle, Auntie, I can’t accept your apology. Clara didn’t make a mistake; she just doesn’t love me.” “Forcing us together will only make us miserable.” Clara’s mom wept, grabbing my hand. “But Caleb, you’ve always loved her! And she likes you too, she just doesn’t realize it yet!” I gently pulled my hand away. “Auntie, I did love her. But once I knew her heart belonged to someone else, I let go.” “I grew up with her. I just want her to be happy.” Her father sighed. “Forget it. They aren’t meant to be. Let’s go.” I drove them home. Just as I was leaving, Clara and Travis arrived, holding hands. Seeing me, Clara’s face froze. She rushed over and shoved me away from her door. “What are you doing here? Here to laugh at me?” “Or did you regret it and come to suck up to my parents?” Looking at her, I felt nothing. No anger, no love. Just… pity.

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The Ninth. This was the ninth boy Catherine Pierce had brought me to “ghost sing” for. The new kid, Dylan, sauntered around the recording studio with a sneer. “You signed a ten-year contract with her, and she’s never released a single song of your own?” he mused. “We just met today, and she’s already asking if I want to be a superstar.” He paused, a smirk playing on his lips. “I was wondering how I was supposed to sing when I’m completely tone-deaf. Turns out, she has a ‘shadow’ like you.” He wasn’t wrong. Catherine Pierce was one of the country’s most renowned music producers. There was no one she couldn’t make famous, only those she didn’t deem worthy. Before Dylan, eight other boys had been handpicked by Catherine, given songs, launched into stardom, and became overnight sensations. All of them, of course, owed their success to me. Their shadow. I used to fight her, screaming until my throat was raw. “You only love this voice, don’t you? What if I destroyed it? Would you care then?” Her response was always a dismissive caress, a soft murmur. “Don’t be dramatic, Julian. You are my most perfect creation. Of course I love you.” That, and a bank card with an ever-increasing credit limit. So this time, I said nothing. I just silently went through the sound check, the calibrations, the recording, pretending Dylan’s taunts didn’t even register. My silence pleased Catherine. She reached out and patted my cheek affectionately. What she seemed to have forgotten was that our ten-year contract was set to expire in ten days. 1 “Stop, stop, stop!” Dylan strode over to the control console, wrapping an arm around Catherine’s waist. “Cat, I don’t like this song. It’s too sappy. Can we get something with a different vibe?” Catherine, seated at the mixing board, didn’t even look annoyed. “What kind of vibe are you looking for?” “Something explosive! A real banger!” Dylan declared. I lowered my head, adjusting the microphone. Last year, I’d tried adding an improvised riff to a song’s chorus. Her face had instantly turned to ice. “Julian, remember your place. Stick to the sheet music. Don’t get creative.” But now, she just ruffled Dylan’s hair. “Alright. If you want to change it, we’ll change it. My Dylan deserves something special.” I put my headphones back on. During a break, Dylan spotted a wooden guitar propped against the wall. “Whoa, this thing is beautiful!” he exclaimed, grabbing it. My stomach clenched. That was Catherine’s prized possession, a custom-made Italian acoustic. Three years ago, I’d accidentally bumped it while cleaning, and she’d flown into a rage. “Don’t touch it! That guitar is worth more than you’ll ever be.” Dylan strummed the strings haphazardly, producing a series of jarring, ugly sounds. Catherine walked over, wrapping her arms around him from behind. “You like it?” “It’s gorgeous! Just a little heavy.” He shoved the guitar into her arms. “It’s digging into my hand.” She took it, setting it aside carelessly as she massaged his fingers. “I’ll find you a lighter one next time.” I watched them, a knot of wet cotton forming in my stomach, a dull, persistent ache. The studio’s air conditioner hummed. I was in a short-sleeved shirt, but goosebumps prickled my arms. “It’s boiling in here, Cat. Can you turn the AC down?” Dylan whined, fanning himself with his collar. Catherine immediately set the thermostat to 65 degrees. A blast of cold air hit the back of my neck. “Thirsty?” she asked Dylan, her voice low. “What do you want to drink? I’ll go get it.” “Iced Americano!” he grinned. “And some of those fried street food skewers!” She grabbed her car keys and left without a second thought. I watched her go. In ten years, through countless sessions where I’d sung until my throat was raw, she had never once asked if I was thirsty. Catherine returned quickly, carrying coffee and a bag of takeout. “Dylan, take a break. Get something to eat.” She stuck a straw in the coffee and held it to his lips. Dylan sipped his drink and then pointed at me. “Hey, you. Shadow. Do that last part again. It didn’t feel right.” I took a deep breath and walked back into the recording booth. We kept changing the style, and by ten o’clock that night, the track still wasn’t right. Outside, a storm had broken, rain lashing against the windows. As I was packing up, Catherine suddenly spoke. “Julian, I’ll give you a ride.” I froze, looking up at her. In ten years, this was the first time she had ever offered to take me home. The dead embers of hope inside me flickered, a tiny wisp of smoke rising against all odds. 2 “We can’t have you catching a cold,” she added. “It would affect your performance for tomorrow’s session.” And just like that, the rain extinguished the smoke. I understood. She wasn’t worried about me. She was worried a cold would delay Dylan’s debut album. The heat in the car was blasting. “Aside from the fact he can’t sing, Dylan has the perfect look, the perfect charisma,” she said, as if to herself. “His debut has to be flawless.” I stared out the window at the rain streaming down the glass and said nothing. She pulled up to the entrance of my rundown apartment complex but didn’t drive in. “You can walk from here, right?” Catherine looked straight ahead. “It’s just a few steps. Dylan’s exhausted. I’m taking him back to my place to rest.” In the rearview mirror, I saw Dylan asleep in the back, covered with her jacket. It hit me like a punch to the gut. She was taking him back to her family home? The ancestral estate she’d once told me no outsider would ever set foot in. I didn’t say a word. I just opened the door and stepped out. Rain immediately soaked my shoulder. The car’s taillights vanished into the downpour. I stood there, drenched, watching the spot where they had disappeared. She really was different with him. My phone vibrated in my soaked pocket. “Chloe,” I croaked, my voice hoarse. “I want to come home.” My sister’s voice on the other end was a burst of surprised joy. “Julian? Really? You finally… I’m coming to get you right now!” “Wait ten more days,” I said softly, wiping the rain from my face. “Just ten more.” The long hours in the freezing studio finally did me in. I swallowed a few pills and collapsed into bed. My mind drifted back eight years. “Why can’t it be me?” I’d cried, clutching at her sleeve. “I can be the one on stage! I can learn to dance, I can learn anything.” “Can’t you… not find someone else? Can’t it just be me?” She pulled her arm away, looking me up and down. “You’re too fat. You’re not photogenic.” At the time, I was six feet tall and weighed 145 pounds. I didn’t eat for three days after that. On the fourth day, I blacked out during a recording session. When I woke up, I was in her family home. The one and only time I ever set foot in that place. She’d gently fed me porridge. “Stop torturing yourself. I’ll make many people famous, and I’ll have many lovers. But you will always be my best partner. And in the end, you’ll be the only one who matters.” My phone vibrating pulled me back to the present. A text from Catherine: Be there at nine a.m. sharp tomorrow. The next morning, Dylan was already in the studio when I arrived, eating pork buns. “You can’t eat in here.” It was one of Catherine’s strictest rules. Her love for music was so obsessive she considered food a contaminant. I’d once brought a sandwich in, and she’d smashed a glass on the floor. “If you ever do that again, I will throw you and your sandwich out on the street!” Dylan rolled his eyes. “Who asked you?” The door opened, and Catherine walked in with a paper bag. “Cat!” Dylan immediately ran to her. “He yelled at me!” I braced for her explosion. Instead, she just placed the bag on the console. “I brought you some pan-fried dumplings. Eat them while they’re hot.” I stood there, stunned. “No way,” Dylan pouted. “They’ll make me fat.” “A little pudge is good,” she said, pinching his cheek, her voice dripping with affection. “I like you with a little meat on your bones.” My stomach churned. I remembered her words: “You’re too fat. You’re not photogenic.” Dylan was easily fifteen pounds heavier than I was. “Let’s get to work,” Catherine said, clapping her hands. When we got to the chorus, Dylan suddenly stopped us. “Can we add a harmony here?” “If you want to, sure.” “I want you to sing it!” he whined, shaking her arm. “Just a small part.” Catherine was fiercely private. To avoid the media’s constant scrutiny of her personal life, she rarely made public appearances or spoke on the record. Last year, I had acute appendicitis and needed emergency surgery. The hospital required a family member’s consent. The nurse called her. On the phone, she refused to say a single word. My sister had to fly back from out of town to sign the papers. The doctor said another half hour and I would have been dead. But now, she actually nodded. “Okay. I’ll sing with you.” I stared down at the lyric sheet, my fingers crushing the paper into deep wrinkles. I never thought this would be how I’d get my first duet with Catherine. We finally finished at three in the afternoon. “The results are fantastic,” Catherine said, saving the project file. “Dylan, your on-camera presence is amazing. You’re going to be a huge star.” Dylan shot me a triumphant look. “I think so too. It’s like I’m really the one singing!” I quietly packed my things and left. My job was just to be the voice. Catherine would handle the rest. I got home, and the rain started again. Sometime after midnight, lost in a feverish sleep, my phone exploded with a call. It was Catherine’s assistant. “Mr. Vance, get to the studio! Now! Ms. Pierce is furious. You’d better be here in ten minutes!” 3 When I burst into the studio, Catherine was standing at the console, her back to me. Dylan was sitting in a swivel chair, his eyes red and puffy. “You finally show up,” Dylan leaped to his feet. “Did you do this?” I was still catching my breath. “Do what?” “Someone leaked that my new song is plagiarized!” He slammed a tablet down in front of me. “Did you leak this demo?” On the screen was the interface of an old, obscure music website. It was playing a song I wrote in high school, “Whispering Wind.” The upload date was a week ago. A few of the lyrics were identical to Dylan’s new song—the very same lines I had suggested we change. Catherine turned around, her face a thundercloud. “Explain.” “That’s a song I wrote in high school,” I stammered, my voice trembling. “I’ve never published it. I’ve never even heard of this website!” “Stop playing innocent!” Dylan shrieked. “You’re just jealous! You’re trying to sabotage me! Who else could have posted your song?” Catherine’s eyes bored into me. “So this was your plan all along? This is how you get your revenge?” I was speechless. “What?” “First, you pretend to casually suggest some lyric changes. Then, right after Dylan’s song is released, you hire online trolls to expose it as plagiarism,” she sneered. “So calculating.” “You don’t just want to ruin Dylan. You want to ruin me.” It felt like a physical blow to my heart. “No, that’s not it, that song was—” “Was what? What lie are you going to spin now?” It was a song I wrote for you. The words died on my lips. It was the secret I’d kept hidden for years, the confession of a teenage boy who fell in love with you at the school talent show when you played the piano on stage. You were like a beacon of light. I became obsessed. I listened outside the practice rooms every day after school. I downloaded videos of all your performances. I even retook my senior year of high school just to get into the same university as you. After graduation, I worked relentlessly on my singing because you once said you liked guys who could sing. All just to get a little closer to you. But what was the point of saying any of that now? She wouldn’t care. Catherine picked up her phone. “PR team. Release a statement.” “Say that Julian Vance plagiarized Dylan’s unreleased work and maliciously uploaded it to the internet.” I was horrified. “How can you twist the truth like that?” “You’re not a public figure,” she said nonchalantly, twisting a strand of her hair. “No one will remember you. Dylan is different. He’s going to be a superstar.” The assistant hesitated. “Ms. Pierce, about Mr. Vance…” “I’m not interested in anything about him,” Catherine waved her hand dismissively. “Just do as I say.” “This is what he gets for being so clever.” Dylan smiled in triumph. Two hours later, thanks to a coordinated online smear campaign, my photos and personal information were everywhere. Calls started coming in from unknown numbers. DIE, YOU PLAGIARIZING SCUM! HOW DARE YOU MESS WITH DYLAN! DOX HIM! LET’S RUIN HIS LIFE! I curled up on the sofa, watching the venomous comments flood my screen. My phone lit up with a text from Catherine. Stay in line. Don’t cause any more trouble. Or I can’t guarantee what will happen next. The next day was Dylan’s new song release event. My voice was so raw that I couldn’t perform the live “ghost vocal,” so Catherine had to change it to an autograph session at the last minute, cutting the performance segment. I was in the middle of lunch when my apartment door was violently kicked open. It was two of Catherine’s assistants. One of them grabbed my arm. “You’re coming with us to the studio.” I was still running a fever, weak and dizzy, as they half-dragged, half-carried me out the door. A terrible feeling began to creep over me. 4 The recording studio was as cold as a meat locker; the AC was on full blast. An assistant made a video call. Catherine’s tired, furious face appeared on the screen. She was in a hospital room. Dylan was lying in the bed behind her, asleep. “Julian, you are truly ruthless,” Catherine’s voice was arctic. “I don’t understand.” “You don’t understand?” She laughed, a sound devoid of humor. “At Dylan’s signing today, someone pretending to be a fan handed him a bottle of water. He took one sip and completely lost his voice. He’s here now getting emergency treatment!” I was stunned. “What does that have to do with me? I’ve been home sleeping all day!” “Nothing to do with you?!” “Security caught the ‘fan’ immediately. He said you put him up to it. Said he was ‘protecting your original work’!” Catherine’s glare was like a knife. “Besides you, who else would have a reason to go after Dylan?” Just then, Dylan stirred. Catherine picked up a glass of water. “Shhh, it’s okay. Drink a little. Then go back to sleep.” She gently wet his lips with a cotton swab. After Dylan was settled, she turned back to the screen, her expression instantly freezing over. “Since you enjoy playing these little games, let’s see how you like a taste of your own medicine.” At her command, an assistant produced a small, clear vial filled with a colorless liquid. “What is that?” “Something to shut you up.” Catherine’s voice came through the speaker. “You think you’re untouchable because of that voice, don’t you? You think I can’t live without you? Well, let’s just see what tricks you can pull when it’s gone.” My legs gave out, and I collapsed. “Catherine! It’s all I have left…” She scoffed. “And that’s precisely why I have to take it away.” “I’ll disappear forever! I’ll leave the city! I’ll never show my face to you again, just please, don’t do this to my voice!” “Do it.” The two assistants pinned me down, one on each side. They pried my jaw open and poured the liquid down my throat. It burned like acid. I thrashed wildly, the potion mixing with my tears, splashing all over me. “Lock him in,” Catherine said, before ending the call with a look of disgust. The studio door slammed shut and was locked from the outside. I scrambled to the door, pounding on it, but all I could manage were hoarse, rasping gasps. I couldn’t even scream for help. On the morning of the third day, Catherine was in the hospital, peeling an apple for Dylan. Her assistant burst into the room, panicked. “Ms. Pierce! He’s gone!” “Who’s gone?” she asked, not looking up from the apple. “Julian! He’s not in the studio! All we found was this!” The assistant handed her a sheet of paper and the empty vial. It was our ten-year contract. The expiration date was yesterday.

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