Category: English

The woman my husband always loved had severe depression. The mere sight of me was enough to make her hurt herself. To keep his precious love safe, he banished me to a crumbling family home in the middle of nowhere, completely ignoring that I was about to give birth. Five years after I was tortured and left for dead, his beloved Claire was diagnosed with kidney failure. The doctors said a close blood relative would have the best chance of a match. Only then did he remember me, her older sister. He called immediately, his voice a cold command for me to come back. My five-year-old daughter answered, her voice trembling. “Uncle… my mommy… she’s been gone for a long, long time.” 1 Ashton Wolfhard’s brow furrowed, his voice laced with irritation. “Whose kid is this? Where’s Elara? Put Elara on the phone!” Willow stammered, “Um… just a second.” She set the receiver down and scurried off to find the old town elder. “Grandpa Henderson, someone’s on the phone for Mommy.” The old man, bent with age, shuffled over to the phone and picked it up. “Is this Mr. Wolfhard?” “Finally, you…” Ashton’s voice trailed off as he registered the old, gravelly tone. His face darkened. He squeezed the bridge of his nose, inhaling sharply through his teeth. When he opened his eyes again, a storm of barely contained rage brewed within them. “Where is Elara? What, is she too scared to take my call?” he sneered. “First, she has a kid tell me she’s dead. Now she gets an old man to do it? Is this her new game?” “Does she really want me to come drag her back myself?” “Fine. For Claire’s sake, I’ll do it. I’ll come get her myself.” He slammed the phone down without waiting for a reply. The next day, Ashton’s sleek car kicked up dust on the dirt road leading to the old house. He stared at the dilapidated structure, half of its roof caved in, and his lips curled in disgust. The front door hung ajar, revealing an empty interior. Rotting floorboards and broken bricks littered the ground, and cobwebs clung to every surface like a shroud. Even the windowpanes were shattered. He shot a glare at the young local man who had guided him here. “Where is she? Tell her to get out here.” “If she agrees to donate her kidney to Claire,” he added, his voice devoid of warmth, “I’ll take her back with me.” The young man wrung his hands, looking pained. “Mr. Wolfhard, this is… I mean… maybe you should wait for the elder to get here?” Ashton’s eyes narrowed, a muscle twitching in his jaw as he fought for control. Just then, the elder, Mr. Henderson, arrived, leaning heavily on a wooden cane. “Mr. Wolfhard. Welcome.” Ashton barely glanced at him. “Where’s Elara?” Mr. Henderson clasped one hand behind his back. “Elara… she can’t come out to see you.” A cold, humorless laugh escaped Ashton’s lips. “What, you’re going to tell me she’s dead, too?” “Tell her to drop the childish games. I’m not in the mood to play along,” he snapped. “I’m here. I came all this way to get her myself. What more could she possibly want?” What more could I want? I didn’t want anything. I just wanted to live. To watch my daughter grow up. But I couldn’t even have that. My soul hovered beside him, a silent, unseen spectator to his rage. Five years ago, on the very night I was sent here, I gave birth to Willow. It wasn’t long before Claire found me. She was jealous that I had married Ashton, that I had carried his child. First, she sent local thugs to vandalize the house, then had them torment me daily. Finally, she ordered them to end me. They left my broken body deep in the mountains, food for wild animals. It was Grandpa Henderson who noticed I was gone. He organized a search party and found what was left of me, giving me a proper burial. 2 The old elder stroked his beard, his eyes clouded with a deep sorrow. After a long moment, he let out a heavy sigh. “Elara… she passed away five years ago.” A derisive smile twisted Ashton’s lips, his expression turning to ice. “Do you take me for a child, old man? A woman like her? She wouldn’t know how to die.” His hawk-like gaze swept over the small crowd of locals that had gathered. He barked an order at his bodyguards, “Find her. Tear this whole place apart if you have to, but you will find her!” I floated in the air, watching as his men hammered violently on the doors of the small cottages. They shoved aside anyone who answered, barging in to search for me. Frightened villagers spilled out into the lane, gathering in a confused huddle. But no matter where they looked, there was no sign of me. Ashton’s face grew darker with every passing minute. Finally, his patience snapped. He stormed over to the elder and grabbed him by the collar. “Tell me!” he roared, his face inches from the old man’s. “Where did you hide her? You tell me right now, and I might be civil about it. Otherwise, don’t blame me for what happens next!” But the elder’s story didn’t change. With a final surge of fury, Ashton twisted his hand. A sickening crack echoed in the quiet air, and the elder cried out in pain. A small girl burst from the crowd. She was dressed in clean, simple clothes, her hair in two neat braids. Fear flickered in her wide eyes, but she ran to the elder’s side anyway, her voice catching on a sob. “Grandpa Henderson, are you okay?” Ashton froze. He looked the little girl up and down, a flicker of something, maybe recognition, in his eyes. Suddenly, Willow spun around and launched herself at Ashton, sinking her teeth into his leg. He kicked her away instinctively. Willow tumbled to the ground but scrambled back up, glaring at him with pure hatred. “You’re a bad man! Grandpa told you, Mommy’s dead! Why are you still hurting him?!” The world seemed to stop. Ashton’s face went pale, his eyes locking onto Willow with a terrifying intensity. Fearing he would hurt her, I instinctively drifted in front of my daughter, trying to shield her. But I was only a ghost. Ashton walked straight through me. He snatched Willow up by the collar of her dress, holding her aloft as he studied her face. She dangled in the air, her small legs kicking frantically. Staring at the features so much like my own, he snarled, “You’re that bastard child from back then!” In an instant, his fingers closed around her tiny throat. “Get Elara out here now,” he hissed, his voice thick with rage, “or I’ll snap this little bastard’s neck!” Watching my daughter struggle for air, I screamed, “Ashton, I’m right here! I’m right here! Let her go, please, let Willow go!” But no one heard my cries. Willow’s face was turning a deep red, her gasps growing weaker. Forgetting I was dead, I lunged at Ashton, trying to bite the hand that was choking my child, but my teeth closed on empty air as I passed right through him. Seeing Willow about to lose consciousness, Grandpa Henderson’s eyes filled with tears. He pushed through the pain, his voice a desperate plea. “Mr. Wolfhard, you can’t! Willow is your…” Before he could finish, one of the bodyguards kicked him to the ground. The old man crumpled, moaning in agony. Suddenly, Ashton released his grip on Willow. She fell to the ground, coughing and sputtering. He scanned the crowd, his voice a low, menacing threat. “Elara, you have three days. If you don’t show yourself, I will kill that bastard child.” My entire being trembled with a mixture of heartbreak and fury as I looked at the broken old man on the ground and the raw, purple marks on my daughter’s neck. In that moment, my hatred for Ashton burned hotter than any sun. And the love I once felt for him turned to bitter, suffocating regret. 3 Three days vanished in the blink of an eye. This time, Ashton brought Claire with him. The arrogant woman who had stormed into my life five years ago was now a fragile doll, her body wracked with illness. Ashton lifted her from the car with infinite tenderness, settling her into a wheelchair and carefully draping a thin blanket over her lap. His eyes were filled with a pained adoration I had never seen directed at me. All his gentleness was reserved for Claire. For me, there was only cold indifference and simmering impatience. The elder and I were already waiting by the old house. Of course, no one could see me. Ashton’s eyes scanned the area behind the elder. Seeing no one, he struggled to contain his anger. “Is Elara’s heart that cold? Can she look at her own sister, so weak and frail, and still refuse to help?” He tried a different tactic. “Elder, if you tell me where she is, I’ll pave the roads for this village. I’ll improve the living conditions for every family here. And I will take Elara back to be Mrs. Wolfhard again. That bastard child… I’ll even treat her as if she were my own.” In his mind, he was making a magnanimous offer. If we still refused, he wouldn’t be so generous. But the elder could only give him the same, painful answer. “Mr. Wolfhard, when Elara returned five years ago, she was constantly harassed by thugs from the next town over. I don’t know the exact circumstances of her death. All I know is that one day she was gone. We searched everywhere. We found her body up on the mountain… it was… it was in a terrible state. I gave her a burial on the hill behind the village. If you don’t believe me, you can go and see for yourself.” Ashton laughed, a harsh, grating sound full of disbelief. “Are you trying to fool a child? If she was dead, how was that little bastard born? How did she grow to be five years old?” A look of profound sadness crossed the elder’s face. “Willow was born the very night Elara came home. After Elara… after she died so suddenly, we couldn’t just abandon a newborn baby, could we?” At his words, a flicker of surprise and then pure malice crossed Claire’s face. She knew better than anyone how I had died. The memory was seared into my soul. I had just recovered from childbirth when Claire arrived with three men. Before I could even react, they held me down as she slapped me again and again. When that wasn’t enough, she ground her heel into my fingers, the crunch of bone echoing in the small room. The pain made me scream. “You bitch, Elara!” she had shrieked. “Why were you born first? Why did you get to marry Ashton? He was supposed to be mine! He loves me!” I tried to speak, to defend myself, but she unleashed her fury on me, kicking and punching while her men held me fast. Finally, I lay broken and dying on the floor. She leaned in close, her voice a venomous whisper in my ear. “The thought of you sleeping with him, of you having his child… it makes me sick, my dear sister. You dared to take the man I love. And for that, even if you are my sister, you have to die.” As she finished speaking, the three men fell upon me. I don’t know how many times they violated me before my spirit finally broke free from my body. I watched, helpless, as they followed her orders and dumped my corpse in the mountains. The universe has a way of balancing its books. Now, five years later, Claire’s reckoning had come. The one person who could save her was the sister she herself had murdered. She knew Ashton’s efforts were futile. I was never, ever coming back. 4 Claire weakly raised a hand, trying to catch the sleeve of Ashton’s coat. The inferno of rage in Ashton’s eyes instantly vanished, replaced by a soft, gentle concern. He bent down, taking her hand in his. “What is it, Claire? Are you not feeling well?” She managed a faint smile and shook her head. “Ashton, my love… is my sister not coming because she’s still angry with me? I… I can apologize. It was my fault… I shouldn’t have clung to you… But I… I really want to live. I want to grow old with you.” Ashton pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Don’t worry, Claire. I promise, I will save you.” A deadly glint flashed in his eyes. My spectral heart clenched. I knew what he was thinking, and I screamed, “No! Willow is your daughter! Don’t you dare hurt her!” But the dead have no voice among the living. Two of Ashton’s bodyguards emerged from the cellar, dragging a terrified Willow with them. They hauled her straight to the roof of the two-story house, a good twenty feet off the ground. The elder scrambled to his feet, his voice trembling with panic. “Mr. Wolfhard, what are you doing?! Let her go! She’s your child!” Ashton’s face was a mask of cold fury, his eyes burning with a deep-seated hatred. “My child? Is that what she told you? I never touched her. How could we have a child? This is the bastard she had with some other man behind my back. If Claire hadn’t begged me back then, I would have never even let this thing be born!” The pure loathing in his eyes sent a chill through me. My memory flashed back to a night six years ago, to Ashton’s birthday party. Claire had drugged my drink, planning to have another man ruin me so Ashton would be forced to divorce me. I realized what was happening and managed to escape, but the drug was already taking hold. When I woke up the next morning, the man lying beside me, clear as day, was Ashton. Floating helplessly before him now, I screamed my silent questions. “Ashton, if you never loved me, why did you marry me?! If you couldn’t get over Claire, why didn’t you go find her? She wasn’t on another planet! A plane ticket was all it would have taken!” Suddenly, his head snapped up, and his eyes met mine. If a ghost could feel hope, mine would have soared. But just as I thought he could see me, he spoke, his voice like ice. “Elara, you have ten minutes. If you don’t come out, I’ll have them drop your daughter.” My world shattered. “No! I’m here! I’m right here! Don’t hurt my baby!” No one responded. I flew towards the roof, desperate to save her, but my hands passed through her small body again and again, grasping at nothing. The elder fell to his knees at Ashton’s feet, begging him to spare Willow, but Ashton ignored him, his gaze fixed on the stopwatch on his wrist. My cries were useless. And in a corner no one was watching, a triumphant, cruel smile played on Claire’s lips. I rushed at her, kicking and punching, but it was like striking smoke. “Ten… nine… eight… seven…” Ashton’s merciless countdown began. I collapsed, a phantom kneeling in the dust, forced to watch as he gave the final, fatal nod. They pushed my daughter from the roof. I flew to catch her, but her body fell straight through my outstretched arms. At the last possible second, the elder scrambled forward, a desperate, broken lunge to cushion her fall. But before he could reach her, a bodyguard kicked him aside. He hit the ground hard, spitting up a mouthful of blood, and lay still. I watched in horror as his eyes fluttered closed. Thump. Willow hit the ground. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth as she whispered, “Grandpa… Mommy…” A soundless, soul-tearing scream ripped from me. “WILLOW!! GRANDPA HENDERSON!!” At that exact moment, the young man from the village ran up, waving a piece of paper. “Mr. Wolfhard! Willow really is your daughter! Look at this…!” Simultaneously, a bodyguard shouted from the back of the property, “Mr. Wolfhard! We found Mrs. Wolfhard’s…!”

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My brother and I were in a car accident together. My heart was ruptured, and I needed immediate surgery. But my mother, the hospital’s Chief of Staff, ordered every available surgeon to my brother’s room. He had a few scratches. I was bleeding out. I begged her to save me. She didn’t even look at me. “Stop trying to be the center of attention, Ethan! Do you realize your brother almost broke a bone?” In the end, I died in a corner of the ER, unnoticed and alone. But when she finally found out I was gone, the mother who hated me the most lost her mind. 1 In the final three minutes of my life, my spirit drifted to my mother’s side. She was sitting by my brother’s bedside, hands clasped in prayer, her face a mask of pure worry. “Caleb, baby, please don’t scare Mom. Wake up, okay?” My father paced the room, his face red with rage. “If that useless animal Ethan had just protected him, Caleb wouldn’t be hurt! I’m going to beat him within an inch of his life when I see him!” I stood there, invisible, a bitter taste rising in my throat. Dad, you don’t need to beat me anymore. I’m already dead. I died from your indifference. A team of doctors circled Caleb’s bed. Once they confirmed he only had minor bruising and no fractures, an older physician finally dared to bring me up. “Dr. Sterling,” he asked my mother cautiously, “Should we check on Ethan? His injuries looked… severe.” The concern on my mother’s face instantly hardened into disgust. “What is he acting for now? Is he playing dead? Does he not realize what he did to his brother?” I stared at her. My heart, which had already stopped beating, felt a phantom pang of agony. I am your son too. Did you really never care about me at all? Suddenly, Mom pulled out her phone and dialed my number. A nurse, standing over my cooling body in the ER, picked up. I didn’t hear the concern I had foolishly hoped for. I heard the same old insults. “Ethan, when the hell are you going to get your ass down here and apologize to your brother?” My heart finally went cold. I had no expectations left. When the paramedics wheeled me in, I had grabbed her scrubs, begging her to save me. She just brushed me off. “Pick a better time to be jealous, Ethan. Your brother almost broke a bone!” Then she walked away, taking the entire trauma team with her to treat Caleb’s scrapes. The nurse couldn’t take it anymore. “Dr. Sterling, Ethan… he’s really gone. He’s crashing.” My mother laughed, a cold, sharp sound. “How much did that little sociopath pay you to say that? I didn’t know he had it in him.” Just then, Caleb—who had been pretending to be unconscious—fluttered his eyes open. He put on a weak, trembling voice. “Mom? Dad? Is Ethan okay?” Mom looked at Caleb, her precious angel, and her expression softened before turning back to the phone with renewed venom. “Ethan, why can’t you be like your brother? He’s hurt because of you, and he’s still asking about you. If you aren’t here in three minutes to apologize, don’t bother coming home!” She hung up, her chest heaving with anger. My dad scoffed. “Why even call him? hasn’t he hurt Caleb enough?” Caleb hid a smirk, lowering his head to look guilty. “Mom, Dad, don’t be mad. Ethan is just still upset about me taking his spot at Harvard. It’s my fault.” I wanted to laugh. Even after I was dead, Caleb was still driving a wedge between us. But my parents would never see it. In their eyes, Caleb was the golden child. They would never suspect that the accident happened because their precious son pushed the steering wheel into oncoming traffic. 2 Predictably, Mom’s face darkened. “Sending a selfish brat like him to Harvard would be a waste. God knows what he’d learn over there.” Caleb sighed. “Don’t be mad at him, Mom. He must have his reasons.” Mom’s eyes went soft. “You’re just too kind, Caleb. That’s why he bullies you.” Caleb was a master at this. He knew exactly what to say to make them hate me. I knew that even if I stood before them and listed every evil thing he’d ever done, they would just slap me and call me a liar. Just then, my sister, Sarah, burst into the room. She had flown in from out of state the second she heard the news. Like Mom and Dad, she only had eyes for Caleb. After fussing over him and confirming he was fine, she glared at the empty space where she assumed I should be. “I told you Ethan is bad luck. Ever since Caleb was born, Ethan has been trying to ruin him.” Caleb grabbed her hand. “Don’t be mad, sis. Even if Ethan steered the car into traffic, I’m sure he didn’t mean to.” The room exploded. Dad slammed the table. “What? He steered into traffic?” Mom gritted her teeth. “That animal. I am done with him.” Sarah looked like she wanted to tear me apart with her bare hands. Caleb’s heart rate monitor spiked slightly—he was afraid he’d overplayed his hand. “Mom, Dad, Sarah, please don’t be mad at him. Maybe I remembered it wrong. He’s my brother; he wouldn’t do that.” Sarah poked his forehead tenderly. “You are too innocent for this world. You don’t know how dark people’s hearts can be.” “I must have saved a country in my past life to have a son like you,” Mom said, stroking his hair. “We’re done with that bad seed. Let’s just focus on getting you better.” The golden sunset filtered through the blinds, illuminating the happy family of four. I watched them, an overwhelming bitterness rising in my spirit. I didn’t belong here. I wasn’t family. I was a stray dog they kicked when they were bored. I wanted to leave, but my soul was tethered to my mother. I couldn’t speak. I could only watch as they continued to humiliate my memory. 3 A few days later, Caleb was discharged. The whole family treated him like he was made of glass. Mom packed his bag. Dad pulled the car right up to the entrance. Sarah put his shoes on for him. On the ride home, Mom complained, “Ethan really is garbage. His brother gets discharged, and he doesn’t even show up? Wait until we get home.” Dad glanced at her. “I told you. Keeping him around is a liability. Something bad was bound to happen.” “Wait until we get home.” Those words triggered a flood of memories. Mom always favored Caleb. When Caleb was born, I accidentally knocked over a glass of water, causing Mom to slip. She went into labor early. Caleb spent weeks in the NICU. Dad slapped me so hard he perforated my eardrum. “You jinx! You almost killed your brother before he was even born!” Mom lay in the hospital bed, looking at me with pure disappointment. In elementary school, Caleb and I fought over a toy car. It was a cheap toy Dad had bought as an afterthought when getting Caleb a limited-edition set. But it was my treasure. Caleb had boxes of toys, but he wanted mine. He grabbed it, then screamed and burst into fake tears. Mom rushed in, hugging him. “Ethan! Your brother suffered so much as a baby, and you’re bullying him?” “I didn’t—” “Mom, don’t be mad,” Caleb sobbed. “I shouldn’t have caused trouble.” Dad came home and whipped me with a belt. “A cold-blooded kid like you should have been left at the orphanage.” I cried and begged, but the more I cried, the harder he hit. Mom and Sarah watched from the couch, cold and indifferent. From that day on, I learned not to fight. I learned not to explain. I learned to be invisible. Until now. Until they left me to die on a cold metal table. 4 Back at the house, Caleb sprawled on the sofa. He mentioned he was hungry, and Sarah immediately ran to the kitchen. Dad pulled out the latest gaming console. “A gift for surviving, son.” Mom cleaned his room top to bottom, filling it with plants. “Fresh air will help you recover.” My ghost floated in the corner of this familiar house. It felt colder than the morgue. The doorbell rang. It was my girlfriend, Bella. “Mr. and Mrs. Sterling,” she said, stepping inside. “I heard Caleb was discharged today. I brought some supplements.” Caleb tossed the controller aside, acting shy. “Bella, you didn’t have to. I’m fully recovered.” Bella smiled at him. The icy goddess I knew transformed into a sweet girl next door for my brother. “Where’s Ethan?” she asked suddenly. If she hadn’t mentioned me, the family would have forgotten I existed. Mom’s face fell. “Don’t mention that ingrate. I scolded him, and now he’s playing runaway. Fine by me. If he likes being outside so much, he can die out there for all I care.” Bella nodded quickly. “It’s probably better. You don’t need him disturbing Caleb’s rest.” Sarah walked out with a tray of fruit. “So, Bella, when are you dumping Ethan? You need to hurry up, or someone else is going to snatch my brother up.” Bella looked down, blushing. “I was actually planning to tell Caleb today.” A wave of acid washed over me. I laughed bitterly, turning away. I was used to betrayal. After dinner, Mom seemed restless. She went to her bedroom and started scrolling through her phone. I drifted closer. She was looking for my contact. She called me. Again and again. No answer. Finally, she smashed her phone on the bed. “Ignoring my calls now? You think anyone actually cares about you?” I wanted to scream: I’m dead, Mom! Dead people don’t answer phones! She snatched up the landline and called the hospital nurse again. “What kind of game is Ethan playing? Tell him if he doesn’t get his ass home and apologize, he’s cut off!” There was a silence on the other end. “Dr. Sterling… Ethan died a week ago. His heart ruptured in the accident. You… you called all the surgeons to Caleb’s room. There was no one left to operate on him.”

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On the day of the SATs, the text on the test booklet in front of me suddenly vanished, replaced by a single, life-or-death question. [If you had to push one person in this room to their death, who would you choose?] Just as I hesitated, paralyzed by fear, a stream of floating chat logs—like a Twitch livestream—erupted before my eyes. [The female lead is such a bleeding heart. She doesn’t want to hurt anyone, so she writes her own name. Too bad she gets sacrificed in the first round.] [She’ll die without ever knowing that the Prom King, who’s been ‘helping’ her, is the one who actually voted for her.] [Wait? Is that the Big Boss in the corner? Adrian Thorne? Why is he participating in the game personally?] I immediately stood up, walked over to the pale, sickly boy in the corner, and extended my hand. “Hi. Want to team up?” 1 The exam room was dead silent. The standard instructions on the packet had dissolved into that terrifying question: [If you had to push one person in this room to their death, who would you choose?] My pen hovered over the paper. I looked around. Other students were gasping, eyes wide, clearly seeing the same thing. Before panic could fully set in, a cheerful, distorted child’s voice boomed over the PA system. “Welcome, students, to the SAT Survival Game! Bet your lives and let the party begin!” “Please answer the question on your paper carefully. Once everyone has voted, the student with the most votes dies! Tee-hee!” The voice cut out, leaving a suffocating silence. After a long minute, a guy with thick glasses stood up. “My name is Simon. I’m the valedictorian, so you guys know I’m logical. Listen to me.” I recognized him. He was a genius, always top of the class. Simon adjusted his glasses, his voice trembling but loud. “There’s an obvious loophole. If everyone writes their own name, nobody gets the ‘most’ votes. It’ll be a massive tie. Nobody dies.” A murmur went through the room. Most people nodded, desperate for a solution. A few looked skeptical—who could guarantee no one would betray the group? I was weighing the odds when someone tapped my shoulder. I turned around and my heart skipped a beat. It was Jason Miller. Jason was the varsity quarterback, the school heartthrob, and the guy I had been crushing on for three years. I usually only watched him from the bleachers; he had never spoken to me before. “You’re Sarah, right? Sarah Jenkins?” Jason flashed a charming smile, ignoring my blushing face. “Since we’re from the same homeroom, we should look out for each other, right?” “I think Simon’s plan is solid. Just write your own name. We’ll get through this first round easy.” He spoke more words to me in ten seconds than he had in three years. My head was spinning. Under his intense gaze, I picked up my pen. Just as I was about to write “Sarah Jenkins,” the floating text scrolled across my vision again. [Look at this simp. She’s about to get sacrificed. She has no idea the male lead is writing her name down right now.] [Seriously, look at her. Does she really think a guy like Jason would notice a nobody like her? He’s only using her as a shield.] [He’s doing it to protect the heroine. It’s kinda romantic in a twisted way.] My hand froze. I looked past Jason’s shoulder and caught a hostile glare. It was Bella, the head cheerleader and school queen bee. The “Heroine” the comments were talking about. It felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over me. My blood cooled instantly. “What’s wrong, Sarah? Write it down. We’re running out of time,” Jason urged, a flicker of impatience crossing his eyes. The crush I had harbored for years evaporated, replaced by disgust. He was nothing but a fake. My affection had been a filter, blurring out the cracks. I ignored Jason and focused on the floating comments. [Hey, isn’t that kid in the corner the final boss, Adrian Thorne? Why is he in the newbie zone?] [Dunno. The plot never mentioned this. Let’s keep watching.] I looked at the boy in the corner. He was pale, almost translucent, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. He watched the panic around him with a faint, amused smirk. I stood up abruptly, ignoring Jason’s shocked expression, and walked straight to Adrian. “Hi. Want to team up?” Adrian looked at me for a long moment, a spark of interest lighting up his dark eyes. “You have a plan? Let’s hear it.” “Everyone agreed to vote for themselves,” I whispered. “But people lie. If we coordinate our votes against one person, that’s two votes guaranteed. It gives us leverage.” I took a deep breath. “Also, I know two people are already colluding to vote for me. I need protection.” Adrian raised an eyebrow. “If that’s true, I could just vote for you with them and ensure my own safety. Why help you?” “You won’t,” I said, staring him down. “Because that would be boring. Wouldn’t it?” Adrian tilted his head, studying me. Then, he sat up slowly. He jutted his chin toward Jason. “You want to vote for him?” I nodded and showed him my paper. I had already written Jason Miller. “As you wish.” The moment Adrian wrote the name, the cheerful voice returned. “Voting is closed! Oh my, we have a three-way tie!” “Jason Miller, Sarah Jenkins, and Simon. Two votes each! We are entering sudden death overtime!” My hands clenched into fists. My heart hammered against my ribs. Jason’s two votes came from me and Adrian. My two votes came from Jason and Bella. But Simon? That was unexpected. The voice continued. “Among these three, one is a long-term animal abuser, one has slept with the Principal for grades, and one is a thief.” “Please use this information to re-vote on these three candidates!” The room exploded into chaos. 2 Relief washed over the crowd—they were safe. Now, they just wanted to gossip. “Sarah is the only girl in the bottom three,” someone shouted, pointing at me. “She must be the one sleeping with the Principal.” “Gross. She looks so quiet and innocent, but she’s dirty.” Their eyes scanned me with disgust. “But back to the game,” another guy said. “Stealing is bad, but abusing animals? That person deserves to die. Is it Simon or Jason?” Jason frowned, looking offended. “I have a golden retriever and a cat at home. I love animals.” “That means nothing!” Simon’s hands were shaking violently under the desk. “Psychology says abusers often use pets to hide their true nature! It has to be Jason! Vote for him!” As they argued, Bella pushed through the crowd. She grabbed Simon’s arm and yanked up his sleeve. “Look at his arm! Three deep scratches. Those are defensive wounds from an animal struggling. Isn’t that proof enough?” Under the harsh fluorescent lights, the angry red welts on Simon’s arm were undeniable. Simon’s face went sheet white. His lips trembled, and then he collapsed to his knees, sobbing. “Please… I don’t want to die… it was just a stray cat…” The cheerful voice chimed in. “Ding! Second vote complete. Candidate Simon, unanimously eliminated!” Bang. A single shot fired from a hidden port in the wall. The bullet went straight through Simon’s forehead. He looked surprised for a split second before toppling over into a pool of his own blood. The room went dead silent. The only sound was stifled sobbing. 3 I clutched my chest, trying to calm my racing heart. I had survived. Because I was a girl, everyone assumed I was the one sleeping with the Principal. I wasn’t. I was the thief. In kindergarten, driven by childish jealousy, I stole a crystal bracelet from another girl. My mother found out and beat me until I couldn’t sit down, then dragged me to the girl’s house to apologize. It was the only time she ever hit me, so the memory was branded into my soul. I didn’t defend myself against the rumors earlier because I didn’t want to draw attention. But now, I was curious. I was the thief. Simon was the abuser. That meant the one sleeping with the Principal was… I glanced at Jason. He caught my eye, his expression a mix of contempt and malice. He knew I had voted for him. Suddenly, a voice spoke only in my ear. “Sarah Jenkins, congratulations on surviving the sudden death round! You have received a reward item: The Immunity Totem.” No one else looked around. Only I heard it. I looked at Jason. His eyebrows twitched. He had clearly received a reward too. Was it also an Immunity Totem? Before I could think, the PA system crackled again. “Congratulations on surviving Round 1! Now, please look at the blackboard. Do you wish to leave the game now?” Two options appeared on the digital blackboard: YES and NO. A guy in a loud Hawaiian shirt—let’s call him Chad—rushed up and slammed YES. “Screw this game! I’m out of here!” Could we really leave? I looked at Adrian. He was smiling faintly, as if watching a play he’d already seen. It wasn’t that simple. The text on the blackboard changed. [Current Prize Money: $10,000 per survivor. If you pass Round 2, the prize becomes $100,000. Please confirm: Leave now?] Chad’s hand froze in mid-air. “Dude, press it! I don’t want to die!” someone yelled. “Wait,” another voice hesitated. “Maybe we should play one more round? $100,000… that’s more than I’d make in two years.” “Shut up!” Chad roared, turning around. “We’re flunking out of high school anyway! We’re losers! Might as well gamble!” He slammed his hand onto NO. Instantly, the lights cut out. Pitch blackness. The cheerful voice giggled, the sound echoing ominously. “Welcome to Round 2: Lights Out!” “In ten minutes, the Hunter will enter the room and cull ten students.” “Everyone has an equal chance of being attacked. Only students holding an ‘Immunity Totem’ are safe.” Before she finished, people started crying. “There are only thirty of us left! That’s a one-in-three chance of dying!” “Shut up! Stop crying!” I quietly grabbed Adrian’s sleeve, trying to make myself small. Having the Totem right now wasn’t necessarily good. “Hey!” Chad shouted at the ceiling. “Can I steal someone else’s Totem?” The voice giggled sweeter than ever. “Of course! And just a little hint… there are already Totems in play. If you kill the holder, the Totem is yours!” “Ten minute countdown… start!” A giant red digital clock appeared on the blackboard, ticking down. Panic erupted. “Who has it? How do we know?” “If we find them, do we really have to kill them?” Jason’s voice cut through the dark. “I know who has a Totem.” Footsteps rushed toward me. Jason grabbed my arm and yanked me up. “Survivors of the sudden death round got rewards. My reward was the ability to hear the hidden broadcast.” “I heard it. Sarah has the Immunity Totem!” 4 The room went silent for a heartbeat. Then someone whispered, “So if we kill Sarah, we don’t have to die?” I felt gazes locking onto me in the dark like physical weights. Chad stood up first, grabbing a heavy metal chair. “I want that Totem! Anyone gets in my way, you’re dead!” I struggled against Jason’s grip. The floating text scrolled by. [The female lead looks so desperate. I can’t watch.] [It’s her destiny to be cannon fodder. Early death, late death, same thing.] [Jason is using her again. He actually has a Totem too, he’s just using her as bait to distract the mob.] My eyes widened. I shouted into the darkness, “The broadcast said ‘holders’, plural! Jason has one too! He’s trying to distract you!” The voice on the PA paused, then laughed maniacally. “I like smart students. Reminder: time is running out.” The mob hesitated, then turned toward Jason. Their greed was now mixed with anger at being tricked. While they hesitated, I bit Jason’s hand, broke free, and scrambled behind Adrian. The mob lunged. It was chaos. People tripping, shoving, swinging chairs blindly in the dark. Screams of pain and rage filled the air. I clutched Adrian’s shirt, my only anchor in the storm. The mob was hunting for me and Jason. Adrian spun around, shielding me with his body, his broad back a wall between me and the madness. I couldn’t see anything, only relying on the floating comments to know what was happening. In the dark, Adrian lowered his head. “Sarah, you did well this time.” I was confused. “This time?” We just met. But the comments were going wild. [Wait, did Jason just use Bella as a human shield? My ship is sinking!] [The plot is totally broken! In the original novel, they survive together!] [It’s all Sarah’s fault. If she hadn’t exposed Jason, he wouldn’t have panicked and sacrificed the heroine!] Bella was dead? My jaw dropped. But before I could process it, the cheerful voice returned. “Ten minutes are up! The Hunter is here! Ready or not…”

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1 I woke in a haze, the world blurry and distant after my kidney transplant. The first thing I saw was Mom and Dad, screaming and crying as the cops hauled them away. It turned out my new kidney had been bought off the black market, for a very high price. The little girl whose kidney they’d taken had just been rescued. Seven days later, I was moved from the sterile isolation ward to a regular room. I had barely settled in when a beautiful, frantic woman burst through the door and lunged at me. “You little monster,” she shrieked, her hands grabbing at me. “You stole my daughter’s kidney! How could you? Give it back! Do you hear me? Give it back!” The man beside her, however, just stared at me, his eyes locked on my neck. “Seraphina, look,” he said, his voice tight. “The birthmark on her neck… it’s identical to our Evelyn’s.” … “My poor Chloe,” the woman, Seraphina, sobbed, her grief raw and terrifying. “She’s only seven, and now she’s missing a kidney!” “Oh, God, what did I do to deserve this? I’ve already lost one daughter, isn’t that enough?” “It’s all because of you, you little beast! If it weren’t for you, my daughter would never have been kidnapped, her kidney would never have been cut out of her!” Nurses and an orderly rushed in, trying to pull her away. “Ma’am, please, this child is only seven, too,” a nurse pleaded. “Her parents were just arrested. She’s been all alone since the surgery. She’s been through enough, please, leave her be.” “She’s been through enough?” Seraphina’s voice dripped with venom. “She has my daughter’s kidney inside her body! What has she been through? Her kidney failed, so she gets to steal my daughter’s? What about my Chloe? Hasn’t she been through enough?” Her eyes were bloodshot, her finger pointed right at my nose as she spat her accusations, flecks of saliva hitting my face. It wasn’t enough. She wrenched herself free from the staff, and the full force of her palm slammed into my cheek. The world exploded in a flash of white. A torrent of hot blood gushed from my nose, and I froze, paralyzed with shock. I scrambled back on the bed, trembling, with nowhere to hide. Tears, spit, and blood streamed down my face, staining the clean white sheets. I curled into a ball, hugging my head, my world collapsing into sobs. “Mommy, Daddy, save me… I’m so scared, it hurts so much!” I was only seven. I used to be their precious little girl. I was in the hospital for acute kidney failure. I didn’t know. I swear, I didn’t know that the kidney Mom and Dad said would save me had cost another little girl so much. Seraphina stood over me, her nails digging into my arm as she continued to curse me. Every touch was like an electric shock, making me flinch and shrink further away. Before, whenever someone bullied me, Mom would wrap me in her arms, and Dad would be ready to fight for me. But who was going to protect me now? Finally, the man who had come in with her, Julian, pulled her back. His eyes were still fixed on my neck. “Seraphina, look at it,” he insisted. “That birthmark… it’s exactly like our Evelyn’s…” She shot a glance at me. “Like hell it is! Don’t you try to change the subject and make excuses for this little parasite.” “I’m telling you,” she snarled, turning her fury back to me, “you give Chloe’s kidney back! Or I swear, I will make your life a living hell!” She left, and a warm puddle spread beneath me on the bed. I had wet myself. The orderly who had stayed behind silently stripped the soiled sheets, looking down at me with a heavy sigh. “A damned shame,” was all she said. She left with the trash and never came back. My hospital account was now overdue. They couldn’t afford an orderly for me anymore. The painkillers stopped. My meals became little more than broth and water. I was in pain, I was starving, and I had no idea what to do. The hospital called the police, reporting that I had no guardian and they should take me away. The police said I was a patient, and the hospital was responsible for me. I was a piece of trash, pushed from one place to another, wanted by no one. Three days later, the man, Julian, returned. He held a file in his hands, his expression conflicted as he stared at me for a long time before finally speaking. “Evelyn,” he began, his voice strained. “I’m your father, Julian Grey. And Seraphina, the woman you met… she’s your mother.” “You were taken from us by a trafficker when you were ten months old. We’ve been searching for you ever since.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “And Chloe… she’s your sister. That kidney inside you… it was hers. She’s the reason you’re alive.” I was so hungry I barely had the strength to move, but I summoned every bit of courage I had and whispered, “Sir, my name is Elara Miller. My dad is Mark Miller, and my mom is Linda Miller.” “I have a mom and dad.” “I… I want to see them!” At the mention of my parents, my eyes filled with tears, and my small hands twisted the fabric of my hospital gown into knots. A flicker of impatience crossed the man’s face, his tone turning harsh. “Those animals paid twenty grand for you! They don’t deserve to be parents. They don’t even deserve to be called human!” “No, that’s not true! My mommy and daddy are good people! They love me! I… I won’t let you say that about them!” He shot to his feet, his voice booming in the small room. “Evelyn Grey, I am your father! You have my other daughter’s kidney inside you. Do you honestly think I’m happy to acknowledge you?” “I’ve been talking to you all this time, and you haven’t called me ‘Dad’ once, but you call those child-trafficking monsters ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’?” “Let me give you some advice,” he said, leaning in, his voice a low growl. “You’d better figure out your place in all of this, and fast. Because if you don’t, your life is about to get much, much harder.” He stormed out, leaving me shivering in the cold silence. I buried my face in my hands and wept. It couldn’t be true. How could I not be my parents’ daughter? They loved me so much. They would go to jail for me! I didn’t want that woman who hated me with every fiber of her being. I already had a mommy and a daddy. I had to see them. I had to hear it from their own mouths that I was their child. 2 Thankfully, the hospital bills were paid. The drip stand by my bed was once again filled with expensive, imported medicines. A week later, a luxury car came and whisked me away to a place they called the Grey Estate. The staff eyed me with open hostility as I stood, weak and trembling, at the grand entrance. “That’s the one who stole Miss Chloe’s kidney. How dare she show her face here?” “Shameless. First she takes the kidney, now she thinks she can waltz in here and take Miss Chloe’s place as the family heiress?” “Look at her, like a little rat. I’m certainly not waiting on someone like that.” They didn’t bother to lower their voices. But I never wanted to be an heiress. My name is Elara Miller! I have a mom and a dad who love me. The sharp click-clack of high heels echoed from behind me, and Seraphina’s furious face filled my vision. She grabbed the front of my gown and started dragging me back out the door. I lost my footing and fell, my body scraping painfully against the marble floor as she pulled me. “I don’t care! I will not have this little monster living in my house! She hurt Chloe, she’s a predator!” “Seraphina, calm down! She’s our daughter! I showed you the DNA report!” Julian’s voice was sharp. “She is not! Our Evelyn died a long time ago! I only have one daughter, and her name is Chloe!” “How could this… this trash be Evelyn?” “Get her out! Get out!” My small body was dragged over the threshold, down the stone steps. The pain in my abdomen flared, sharp and searing. The wound felt like it was tearing open. I clutched my stomach, crying out that it hurt. But no one listened. “Seraphina! Let go of Evelyn! Do you think I’d care about her if she didn’t have Grey family blood in her veins?” Julian shouted. “Chloe is my daughter too, you know! I’m hurting just as much as you are!” He moved to grab me from her, but in the struggle, his foot came down hard on my stomach. An involuntary scream tore from my throat. I writhed on the ground, clutching myself as waves of agony washed over me. Only then did they seem to notice the trail of blood seeping through my gown, a dark ribbon stretching from the house all the way into the courtyard. “How disgusting! Someone clean up this little beast’s blood, now!” “She’s stained my favorite courtyard…” The last thing I saw before I passed out was Seraphina’s face, twisted in a mask of pure disgust. I woke up in the estate’s storage room. A single wooden plank served as a bed. There was no water, no food, and no one. The pain from my surgical wound was intense. I curled up, hugging myself tightly. Mommy, Daddy, I miss you so much. If you knew how much I’m suffering, you’d be heartbroken, wouldn’t you? Just wait for me. I’ll find a way to see you. I’m your daughter. I’ll always be your daughter. The wooden door creaked open, and I was hauled back into the main villa. On the sofa sat Julian and Seraphina, along with a girl about my age and a stern-looking older woman—my grandmother, I presumed. The little girl saw me and ran over, her face bright with excitement as she took my hand. “I haven’t had anyone to play with in so long! Mommy, did you find a friend to come play with me?” Before I could pull my hand away, Seraphina snatched the girl up into her arms, her eyes filled with a love so fierce it was almost painful to watch. Her voice was as soft as silk. “Chloe, darling, don’t touch her. She’s filthy.” “Mommy, if you talk like that, you’ll make our guest sad. If she’s dirty, we can just give her a bath! I have new clothes she can wear, then she won’t be dirty anymore!” Seraphina opened her mouth, but then closed it, her gaze softening as it rested on Chloe, adoration spilling from her eyes. So this was the sister I had harmed. She was beautiful, adorable, and as soft and gentle as a little white rabbit. The grandmother on the sofa cleared her throat. “Seraphina,” she said, her voice commanding. “Evelyn is Grey blood. She belongs in this family, and she will stay.” “Mother!” Seraphina protested. “This is not up for discussion. Am I supposed to let a descendant of the Grey family be raised on the streets like some stray? What would that do to our family’s reputation?” Her word was final. “You,” she said, her gaze pinning me to the spot. “Come here. Kneel before your parents, call them ‘Mother’ and ‘Father,’ and we’ll put this matter to rest.” “From now on, you are the eldest Miss Grey, and Chloe is the second.” When I didn’t move, she sighed, her tone softening slightly. “Evelyn, I know you’re scared. But your mother and father truly do love you. When you were lost, your mother nearly died from grief.” “That’s why we adopted Chloe, who was the same age as you. We always told Chloe she had an older sister. We never hid the fact that she was adopted.” “Because your parents have always been waiting, hoping that one day, they would find you.” “Evelyn, be a good girl. Kneel, say the words, and from now on, Grandma will protect you. No one will ever bully you again.” Her words were meant for Seraphina as much as for me. But how could I betray the mom and dad who loved me? “Grandmother,” I said, my voice trembling but firm, my teeth chattering from fear. “My name… is Elara Miller. I want to go back to my own home. I want to see my mommy and daddy.” The room fell silent. The warmth vanished from my grandmother’s face, replaced by a terrifying, icy mask. “You see, Mother? The little beast has no heart!” Seraphina exploded. “I say we cut her open, take the kidney back for Chloe, and throw her out with the trash!” “Evelyn, you are an ungrateful child!” Julian roared. “Your grandmother came here personally to speak up for you, and this is how you repay her? By defying her?” In the chaos, Chloe wriggled out of her mother’s arms and ran to me, taking my hand. “Sister, please don’t make Grandma and Mommy and Daddy angry. I don’t blame you. We’re a family.” “I’ve been waiting for you to come home, sister! I can play with you from now on, just the two of us. Wouldn’t that be nice?” She threw her arms around me in an excited hug, but her movement jostled my wound. A sharp jolt of pain shot through me, and I instinctively pushed her away. Chloe lost her balance, stumbling backward. Her head hit the hard floor with a sickening thud. For a split second, there was silence. Then, she let out a piercing wail. My blood ran cold. I knew, in that moment, that I had done something terrible. 3 “Chloe!” They swarmed around her like bees to a threatened hive. Seraphina clutched her tightly, whispering comforts, her own eyes red with panic. Julian frantically checked the back of Chloe’s head, shouting for the butler to call their private doctor. Even my grandmother rushed over, patting Chloe’s back gently. Once they were sure Chloe wasn’t seriously hurt, all eyes turned to me. There was nothing but pure, undiluted hatred in their gazes. “You black-hearted little monster,” Seraphina hissed, advancing on me. “I knew you wanted to hurt Chloe.” “Did you think if you killed her, you could take her place? In your dreams!” Two sharp slaps cracked across my face. “Someone get me a rope!” Julian’s voice was low, but vibrating with fury. “Tie this little menace up and lock her in the storage room! Let her think about what she’s done!” Even my grandmother turned her back on me, heading upstairs to check on Chloe without another word. “Please, just let me go,” I begged, tears streaming down my face. “I just want to go home! I just want to see my mom and dad!” My pain, my fear, my desperation—it meant nothing to them. “Gag her!” Seraphina screamed. “Tie her up and get her out of my sight! Now!” I was bound tightly, the coarse rope digging directly into the tender flesh of my wound. Every breath was a fresh wave of tearing, searing agony. I wanted to scream, but my mouth was stuffed with a filthy rag. Tears and snot covered my face. My nose was blocked. I couldn’t breathe. Mommy, Daddy, please, somebody save me! It hurts so much! I don’t know how long I was left like that, drifting in and out of a haze of pain. Eventually, someone came to untie me. A doctor treated my wound, and the storage room became my new home. Someone brought me food at regular intervals, and I was allowed to use the outdoor staff bathroom. The estate was vast and beautiful, but I didn’t want to be there. The desire to go home, to see my real parents, burned stronger than ever. I explored every corner of the property, searching for an escape route, but the walls were too high, the gates always locked. I was an anomaly on the estate. They called me “Eldest Miss,” but not a single person treated me with a shred of respect. Only Chloe still clung to me. She loved calling me “Sister” and followed me everywhere. Her kindness terrified me. She was the family’s cherished treasure, and I was afraid that one wrong move, one accidental slight, would land me tied up in the darkness again. So I ran, and she chased. To her, it was a game. To me, it was a torment I couldn’t escape. One afternoon, she cornered me by the lake. “Sister, I got you!” she giggled, out of breath. “That was fun! Let’s play again. You run, and I’ll catch you, okay?” “Get away from me!” I finally snapped, my frustration reaching its peak. “Just leave me alone!” I turned and walked away, ignoring the wounded, tearful look on her face. A moment later, I heard a splash. She had slipped and fallen into the lake. After a heartbeat of hesitation, I dove in after her. I managed to pull her out, dragging her onto the bank just as a crowd of staff came running. “Chloe! Sweetheart, how did you fall in? Did someone push you?” Seraphina was there in an instant, wrapping Chloe in her arms, shooting me a look of pure loathing from the corner of her eye. “Sister…” Chloe choked out, coughing up water before she could say more. I stared in horror at Seraphina’s face, which was twisting with rage. “It wasn’t me!” I cried, desperate. “She fell in by herself! I saved her!” My words were meaningless. “I knew it… I knew it was you,” she seethed. “You venomous little snake. Chloe does nothing but sing your praises, and you try to kill her!” Julian arrived, his eyes wide with disbelief. “I told you we should have just taken her to the hospital, taken the kidney, and been done with it! But no, you insisted on keeping her, on finding a donor for a replacement!” “Julian, we’ve been raising a viper! If she ever hurts my Chloe again, I swear, I will kill myself!” Julian looked at Chloe, who was still coughing weakly, and his eyes turned red. “Evelyn! What is wrong with you?” he roared at me. “You have Chloe’s kidney, and I’m protecting you! I brought you home to be the eldest daughter of the Grey family, and you’re still this vicious?” “If I had known you were this kind of child, I would have left you to die on the street! If anything had happened to Chloe, I would have torn you to pieces!” I gasped for air, my whole body trembling. The wound in my abdomen had torn open again from the effort of the rescue, and the pain was excruciating. The servants were already approaching with ropes. I couldn’t bear it again. I would rather die. “The Eldest Miss Grey? I never wanted to be your precious Eldest Miss!” I screamed, my voice raw with anguish. “I just want to be Elara Miller! I just want my own mommy and daddy!” “You already have Chloe! Why won’t you let me go? Who wants to be your daughter?” “You’ve given me nothing but pain!” “Fine! You want the kidney? Take it! Take my life, too! Is that what you want?” Before anyone could react, I turned and threw myself back into the cold, dark water of the lake. I knew how to swim. But this time, I didn’t try. I let myself sink, welcoming the silent, suffocating darkness. When they dragged me out, Julian’s face was ashen, and Seraphina was pale as a ghost. “Evelyn,” Julian’s voice trembled with a rage I hadn’t heard before. “You’d rather die than be our daughter? Is that how badly you want to see those animals?” I just nodded, my resolve firm. “Fine,” he said, his jaw tight. “I’ll arrange a visit.” A flicker of hope ignited within me. For the first time since I’d arrived at the Grey Estate, I smiled. “Thank you… sir.” The night before the visit, I was too excited to sleep. I woke up early, put on my cleanest clothes, and tried to make myself look presentable. Julian sat beside me in the car. I felt small and nervous, but not afraid. I was about to see my mommy and daddy. With their love, I could face anything. In the stark, gray room of the prison, my parents looked exhausted and worn. But when they saw me, their faces lit up, their muscles trembling with emotion. I ran to them, tears of joy streaming down my face. “Mommy, Daddy, I missed you so much!” CRACK. A stinging slap sent my head reeling. It was Mom. Her face was a terrifying mask of rage. She raised her hand again and struck me with all her might. I stumbled back and fell to the floor, too stunned to even cry. I’m Elara. I didn’t betray you. I didn’t accept them. I’ve been waiting for you. I love you. Why? Mom, why are you hitting me? Dad lunged forward, his foot raised to kick me, but a guard quickly intervened. Pinned by the guards, he and Mom still thrashed, reaching for me, their mouths opening in a torrent of curses and screams. I stared, paralyzed, a horrifying memory surfacing—the moment they were arrested. Their screams and cries then weren’t for me. They were at me. Just like now.

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Before the SATs, I gave the whole class a list of key topics to study. To my surprise, I guessed 80% of them correctly. After the exams, I was accepted into Harvard, and everyone in my class got into their dream universities. But on the day my family was celebrating, a group of police officers stormed in. It turned out the class president had led a campaign to report me. She rallied the class, claiming I had obtained the answers in advance, which was why I became the top scorer. My admission was rescinded, and my mom was sent to prison because of me. People online called me shameless, saying I should die for cheating on the SATs. They came to my house, splashing paint and throwing rotten eggs. Someone even put a bounty on me on the dark web. Over the years, the relentless abuse drove me to severe mental illness. One dark night, I swallowed a whole bottle of sleeping pills. When I opened my eyes again, I was back before the exams. Facing the jeers of my classmates, I smiled. Predicting exam questions? That’s my specialty! This time, the accuracy will be 100%! 1 It was evening study hall in our senior year. The classroom was silent, save for the rustling of leaves outside the window. I was staring blankly at the “3 Days Until SATs” countdown when the class president, Hailey Miller, suddenly stood up. “Sophia, isn’t your mom on the SAT question committee? Do you have any inside scoop to share?” As soon as she spoke, everyone stopped writing. “Sophia, why didn’t you say so earlier! If your mom is making the questions, she must have given you the key topics. It’s not cool to keep it to yourself!” “I heard the Math section is brutal this year. Sophia, do you know what the essay prompt is?” “Yeah, and the Reading section! My comprehension sucks, I always go off-topic!” Looking at their eager eyes, I finally realized—I had been reborn! In my past life, I explained countless times. Although my mom was on the committee, she had been in sequester since March. I hadn’t been able to contact her for a long time, so there was no way I could know the questions. But my classmates didn’t care. They were convinced I knew the questions and was keeping them secret to be the top scorer. Three years of high school, studying desperately for this one exam. I saw their struggles. For the sake of their futures, I shared the key topics I had summarized over the year. Unexpectedly, I hit 80% of the actual questions. All thirty-nine students in my class got into top-tier universities. Hailey gave my desk mate, Lucas, a look. He immediately understood. “Sophia, your mom is an English teacher, right?” “The essay and grammar sections are worth a lot. If we can ace those, we can easily get a high score even if we mess up the rest!” Originally, the classmates were just grumbling, but hearing this, their eyes widened. “English is my weakest subject. If I can get a decent score, I can get into the Chemistry program at NYU! Sophia, have mercy. I’ll call you my godmother!” “One point on the SATs can mean a difference of thousands of rankings. If I get those forty points, think of how many people I’ll leave in the dust!” Hailey wouldn’t let up, adding fuel to the fire. “That’s just English. Sophia’s mom can definitely get the answers for other subjects too! If our whole class gets top scores, maybe Harvard and Yale will be fighting over us!” The quiet classroom exploded into chaos. “Alright, settle down!” The homeroom teacher slammed his book on the podium. “Sophia, your grades have always been good. You can’t just ignore your classmates’ futures to be the top scorer.” “We are a team. Stop hiding it. Share the key topics, and everyone will be grateful.” Grateful? I sneered internally. They wouldn’t be grateful. They would only resent me for not giving them all the key topics! In my past life, as soon as they got their acceptance letters, they turned around and reported my mom for leaking exam questions, led by Hailey! My mom was sentenced to five years. My scores were canceled, and Harvard rescinded my admission. The sudden trauma caused my dad to have a heart attack, and he passed away shortly after. While my family was destroyed, my dear classmates were celebrating the high scores they got because of my predictions! Unexpectedly, I opened my eyes and was reborn before the exams. With the experience from my past life, my prediction accuracy is 100%. But I won’t give it to them so easily. Facing the jeers of the class, I made a silent decision. “Yes, my mom said as long as I memorize the content in this book, I’ll definitely be the top scorer!” I patted the book on my desk and smiled. I dare to say the correct answers for every subject, but I wonder if you dare to write them down! 2 Hailey’s eyes lit up, and she ran over from the front row. When she saw the book in my hand was “SAT Prep 2024,” her face turned pale. “Sophia, if you don’t want to help, just say so. No need to play us like this!” She squeezed out a few tears, looking utterly wronged. Seeing her cry, Lucas immediately felt distressed. “Hailey is thinking about our future. Sophia, don’t be too much!” The classmates joined in. “Being antisocial is one thing, but bullying classmates? I say you’re just jealous Hailey is prettier than you!” “Exactly. Who wants your key topics anyway? Sophia, if you have a problem, take it out on us!” Hailey could barely suppress her smile. She raised an eyebrow at me, a clear provocation. Looking at Lucas’s dark face, my heart turned to ice. I had a crush on him for three years. For three years, I brought him breakfast and tutored him, but no matter what I did, he only had eyes for Hailey. It was fine if he didn’t like me. But after my mom went to prison, he tricked my dad into thinking I was suicidal, causing his heart attack and death! “Sophia, you must apologize to Hailey!” “Yes, apologize!” I looked coldly at these ingrates, refusing to say a word. Until the bell rang, the homeroom teacher said slowly, arms crossed, “If you don’t apologize to Hailey, everyone will stay here with you.” Complaints erupted around me. I bit my lip until I tasted blood, forcing out the words. “I’m sorry…” The students scattered like birds. I lay on my desk, sobbing. Hailey walked up to me slowly, dropping the act. “Good grades are useless; winning hearts is what matters! Let’s see if you dare to go against me again!” I looked up, sobbing, “I didn’t lie to you. I know the answers to every subject!” Shock flashed in her eyes but was quickly suppressed. “The essay prompt is about ‘legacy and innovation,’ the reading passage is from The Art of War, the answers are C, C, D, A, B…” With every sentence, Hailey’s expression grew more serious. “How can you prove this is real?” “The first exam is English. You’ll know if I’m right when you take it!” “Our city has never had a perfect score valedictorian. If you get a perfect score, you can pick any university and major in the country.” Hailey’s eyes darted around. She tore a page from my notebook and furiously wrote everything down. An hour later, the paper was filled with text. “Aren’t you trying to be the valedictorian? Why are you so kind to give me the answers?” “My mom gave me the answers. If I become the valedictorian, it would attract too much attention. I just need a score good enough for Harvard.” Hailey stared at me skeptically. After a long while, she raised her hand as if to hit me, and I instinctively covered my head. “If you dare play me again, watch how I deal with you!” I shrank back, timidly pulling her sleeve. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone. Leaking exam questions is a big deal; I could go to jail!” “I’m not that stupid. With this, the state valedictorian title is mine!” I sneered internally. Dreaming of being a perfect-score valedictorian with her mediocre grades? She really dares to dream. I want to see how she faces public scrutiny after the exams! 3 One day left until the SATs. Classes were suspended for self-study, with teachers available for Q&A. During the break, Hailey mysteriously called Lucas aside. When Lucas returned, he threw his textbook aside and went straight to sleep on his desk. I looked up at Hailey. Her desk was surrounded by people. A student in front whispered, “A set of La Mer skincare for five multiple-choice questions? That’s too expensive. Who knows if her inside info is real!” The student next to her nudged her, and she shut up in fear. I pretended not to see and continued with my practice test. Hailey was bold! She dared to sell exam questions. Wasn’t she afraid of being caught? And those students buying answers, if caught, their scores would be canceled. Unless… they wanted to use me as a scapegoat again! In that case, let’s blow this up! On the day of the exam, I was at home enjoying the AC and watermelon, while the class group chat exploded. They never expected the English exam to match Hailey’s predictions exactly! To get the answers for the next subject, parents visited Hailey with expensive gifts. The news was covering the exams on TV. Hailey was the first to walk out of the school. Facing reporters, she looked confident. “Thanks to three years of hard work, I thought today’s English exam was easy!” I bit into my ice cream and scoffed. Let’s see how long she can be proud! Soon, it was results day. Hailey livestreamed checking her scores. Seeing her scores were sealed (indicating a top ranking), she smiled shyly. Instantly, “School Beauty High School Valedictorian” trended. The next day, I went to school for paperwork, just as the honor roll was being posted. Hailey, fresh from an interview, tore down my photo. “Someone like Sophia doesn’t deserve Harvard!” I glared at her. “Hailey, watch your mouth! If you dare frame me, I’ll make you pay!” She glanced at me disdainfully, then said indignantly, “I just can’t stand people like you. The SAT is the fairest competition, but some people use their connections to cheat!” “Sophia, you know how you got your score!” Reporters swarmed like sharks smelling blood, thrusting microphones at her. “You don’t know? Her mom is on the question committee. Sophia had the answers long ago. Her score is dirty!” Hailey looked angrily at the camera, enunciating each word. “I am now formally reporting Sophia for cheating! I hope the authorities investigate her thoroughly and give millions of students a fair chance!” Reporters dropped their jaws. “What? All six subjects? She had all the answers!” “Cheating on the SATs? That ruins lives! Little girl, you’re bold!” A male reporter pushed his glasses. “Student, did you really cheat? Where did you get the answers? How did your mother get them? What do you have to say for yourself?” Instantly, all cameras pointed at me! The scene of being interrogated in my past life overlapped with this moment. I trembled uncontrollably. “You have no evidence. Why do you say I cheated?” “Oh, I have evidence! Solid evidence!” “Look, this is the paper where Sophia wrote down the answers!” Hailey pulled a piece of paper from her pocket and held it up to the camera. 4 The paper was covered in dense handwriting with answers for every subject. My mind buzzed. That was indeed my handwriting! But since my rebirth, all memories of the exam existed only in my mind. I never wrote them down. How did Hailey have this? Before I could think of a response, classmates arrived at the school, summoned by Hailey. Lucas stepped forward, standing first before the cameras. “I’m Sophia’s desk mate. She slept through classes all senior year and didn’t study at all. I absolutely don’t believe she could get into Harvard!” To prove it, he pulled out an old photo on his phone. In the photo, the whole class was listening attentively, except for me sleeping on the desk. “I can testify too! I’m the math rep. Sophia stopped handing in homework since senior year started. I reminded her daily, but she didn’t care, saying her admission was secured and she didn’t need to do homework. Her mom must have been planning to get her answers since then!” “Uncles and Aunties, this is our mock exam score. Sophia only got 300 points. How could someone with such scores be admitted to Harvard!” The classmates’ accusations were broadcast live. Netizens furiously commented. “There must be something fishy for someone like this to get into Harvard!” “Investigate! Must investigate! An exam committee member leaking questions, there must be a huge umbrella protecting them!” “She ruined others’ ten years of hard work. We small-town students have no hope left!” “Evidence is right there. How can she explain this? She should just die!” I gritted my teeth, staring stubbornly at Hailey. “That paper is fake. You’re all lying!” I slept in class because I had a high fever that day. I didn’t hand in homework because the math teacher allowed it. I missed the mock exam because I was participating in a math competition in the neighboring state! “This is clearly your handwriting. How can you prove it’s fake?” Hailey smirked. Relying on their numbers, they seemed sure I was speechless. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to calm down. I can’t lose my composure, or I’ll fall into her trap. “My mom is indeed on the committee. But she entered sequester in early March. You say my mom leaked questions to me, then tell me, how did we communicate!” The reporters finally realized something. “Right, committee members can’t have electronic devices and have no internet. How did the answers get out?” Hailey was stumped for a moment but reacted quickly. “Who knows how you communicated!” “Anyway, I have evidence. Reporting you is what any student should do. The rest is up to the investigators!” I looked at her and sneered. “But, I didn’t take the SATs at all!” “What did you say?” Hailey’s eyes widened in disbelief. “I was already admitted to Harvard early, so I didn’t take the SATs. There’s no way I cheated or leaked questions.” “Hailey Miller, accusing me and my mom without evidence is slander and defamation! I can sue you!” Hailey was shocked. She never calculated that I didn’t even take the exam. In my past life, when news of my early admission spread, she publicly shamed me for not being loyal and guilt-tripped me into giving up the admission to take the exam with them. After rebirth, I immediately contacted Harvard admissions. Thankfully, they gave me another chance and returned my application to withdraw.

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After the transfer student, Caleb, appeared, I started to slowly forget my childhood sweetheart. We became deskmates, running into each other in every corner of the city. My memories with my childhood sweetheart faded, the protagonist replaced by Caleb and me. Looking at him made my heart race and my temperature rise. It felt like we were destined to be together, guided by an invisible hand. 1 Caleb and I were locked in the equipment room again. He was the new transfer student, handsome with a rebellious edge, broad shoulders, and long legs. Rumor had it that when he accidentally lifted his shirt while playing basketball, revealing his eight-pack abs, he became the hot topic among all the girls in school. The teacher assigned him as my deskmate, explaining earnestly that since his grades were poor and I was number one, maybe I could help him improve. I neither agreed nor disagreed, but I didn’t object. We barely spoke after becoming deskmates. But for some reason, we kept running into each other after school. Everywhere, including but not limited to the supermarket, the bookstore, and now, the equipment room. And without fail, it was always pouring rain or a power outage—basically creating a “closed circle” scenario. Like now, I just came to return a badminton racket after evening study hall, yet somehow ended up locked inside with Caleb. The light fixture sizzled twice, then with a pop, the power cut out. It seemed to have blown a fuse. This was the third time this month. Even for coincidences, the probability was a bit too high. Caleb stood by the window, looking at the security bars, his voice nonchalant. “Looks like we can’t get out. We’re stuck here, Julia.” My phone was back in the classroom. The pitch-black room offered zero visibility, only the moonlight filtering in outlined vague shapes. From afar, I could hear laughter from the sports field. And the tick-tock, tick-tock of the clock hands turning. “Are you afraid of the dark?” In the lightless environment, the sound of heartbeats seemed amplified. Caleb seemed to move, his voice low. “There’s light here, come over.” I thought for a moment. “Do you have a lighter?” He chuckled lightly. “Aren’t you a good student? I brought cigarettes, but my lighter got confiscated today.” After a pause, he added, “Nicotine isn’t good for you, it just numbs emotions sometimes. You shouldn’t smoke.” His words carried a faint loneliness that invited exploration. Was his childhood tragic? Did he have a flawed family background? Question after question floated up in my mind like bubbles, or dominoes being toppled. He looked lonely; maybe I should comfort him, preferably with a hug. The dominoes were halfway down, feelings of pity just sprouting, when I frowned and pinched them off. This wasn’t right. This was strange. I looked at him confusedly, offering no extra explanation. “No lighter is fine, give me the cigarette pack.” I happened to have two AA batteries in my pocket, spares from the lab today that I didn’t use. Now they could be used to start a fire. Caleb handed me the pack. I deftly pulled out the foil paper, folded it, and tore it into the shape I needed. There was a pile of waste paper in the equipment room. I squatted down and pinched the foil to the ends of the battery. One second, two seconds— With a fizz, the foil ignited and fell onto the waste paper, sparking a bright flame. The room lit up, smoke billowed out the window, and the sprinkler system overhead kicked in, showering us with water. Exclamations came from outside the door; people were rushing over. When the equipment room door opened, the bright lights illuminated the stunned expression on Caleb’s face. I stood up and said politely, “Thanks for the cigarette pack. I’ll buy you a new one.” I wasn’t afraid of the dark, and of course, I didn’t smoke. But I had no intention of explaining any of this to Caleb. Identifying problems and solving them promptly—that was one of my life mottos. 2 Arson on school grounds, even for self-rescue, was dangerous behavior and warranted criticism. Honestly, if Caleb hadn’t insisted it was all him and had nothing to do with me, I would have been out sooner. He insisted on taking the fall for me. I tried to argue but couldn’t win, so I silently watched the dean give him a comprehensive lecture on “tough love.” Once Caleb left, the dean turned to me, his stormy expression instantly clearing up. He lectured me lightly, then coughed twice. “Going to the competition training camp soon, right? I never worry about your grades. But Julia, you look too thin. Don’t forget your health while studying. Let me know if you have any difficulties.” Unsurprisingly, I nodded. “Okay, thank you, sir.” Leaving the office, Leo was waiting for me at the door. He had beautiful eyes—double eyelids with slightly drooping corners, making him look gentle and harmless. When he wasn’t smiling, he seemed a bit cool, but when he smiled, he was completely disarming and reserved. We grew up together, and I had never seen him angry. Most of the time, he was smiling. I sometimes teased him about having a face that promised peace and prosperity. “I heard everything.” His voice was the same—gentle and clear, always full of patience. “Did you burn yourself starting the fire?” “Such a childish experiment, how could I mess up?” Seeing his familiar, handsome face, I relaxed a bit and proudly held up a number. “I have at least five other ways to start a fire.” Leo was silent for a few seconds. “That’s dangerous too. Is there a way to get out without fire?” I glanced at him. “Yes, waiting for you to find me, but that’s too slow.” We walked side by side out of the school. “It’s okay if it’s slow, safety is more important,” Leo handed me a bag of fresh food. “…By the way, that boy named Caleb was also waiting for you at the door just now.” The bag contained fresh walnut kernels he had peeled for me. Since I started competing, he worried about me overusing my brain and brought me nutritional supplements every day—sometimes homemade peanut milk, sometimes peeled walnuts. Every day, for ten years. Busy opening the bag for a late-night snack, I said indifferently, “Oh.” As for why he left or what he was waiting for, I didn’t care much. My social circle had always been narrow because I wasn’t interested. Socializing is utilitarian by nature. People who accept my personality and want to be friends usually want something—so if it was important, Caleb would tell me. “Julia.” Almost at my door, Leo paused. “Actually…” Before he could finish, click, the door opposite mine opened. “Julia?” A tall boy carrying a cardboard box just happened to open the door next to mine. He looked dusty, like he was moving. After a few seconds of surprise, he raised an eyebrow and smiled. “You live here too?” The air seemed to sprout a different aura. I looked at him quietly, fingers on my wrist, counting my heart rate. I knew my vital signs like the back of my hand, so I knew my heart was accelerating. Pulse racing, blood flow speeding up, uncontrollable heat radiating from my face, body temperature rising. In this midsummer night, faced with uncontrollable physiological reactions, my thoughts were incredibly clear. That strange feeling of being controlled by hormones appeared again. I hummed a “Yes.” Caleb chuckled lightly. “Looks like we’re neighbors starting today.” Analyzing the emotions in his pupils and the subtle changes in his face, I confirmed one thing again—he wasn’t lying. Like the numerous coincidences before, this wasn’t pre-planned by him. He knew nothing about it, at least in this aspect, just like me. After spending some time together, judging by my deskmate’s IQ, I didn’t think he had such good acting skills or would do something seemingly purposeless. “Quite a coincidence,” I paused. “The previous owner just decided to go abroad last month.” The decision to go abroad was also abrupt. The uncle who lived there had expressed satisfaction with his life here, but the day Caleb transferred, he suddenly sold the house through an agent, saying he wanted to explore the world. The neighbor uncle had always been a content layabout. Frankly, such a decision didn’t fit my impression of him. But people are changeable and complex. This strange event was discussed at our dinner table, and later dismissed with “life is always full of drama.” But combined with Caleb’s appearance today, things were heading in a weird direction. Maybe Caleb knew something about the uncle selling the house. “I just happened to like this apartment. Julia, feels like I keep running into you,” Caleb’s silhouette looked even more handsome in the dark. He seemed to glance ambiguously at the silent Leo beside me, then lowered his eyes to look at me again, his eyes and voice full of laughter. “Looks like we have quite the fate.” I lowered my eyes quietly, a feeling of “as expected” rising in my heart. Most coincidences in this world seemed explainable by “fate,” but in reality, they were intentional. As for who did it and how, it had nothing to do with ethereal luck. His train of thought was completely different from mine, or maybe he wasn’t thinking at all. I instantly lost the desire to discuss this coincidence with him. But it was no big deal. After all, most people I met couldn’t think on the same frequency as me. “Maybe,” I answered casually, politely saying goodbye. “Bye, Caleb.” “See you tomorrow, little deskmate.” Caleb’s eyes curved, revealing them to be very affectionate peach blossom eyes. But he didn’t leave. He just stood there looking at me, as if waiting for something. I unlocked the door, took my backpack from Leo, looked up into his beautiful clear eyes, and paused slightly. Leo had been quiet, not interrupting Caleb and me, not leaving early. He always watched me go inside before going upstairs to his own home. Nothing seemed to have changed, at least on the surface. But we had been childhood sweethearts for over a decade. I easily sensed something was wrong. Even just a tiny bit. So after 0.1 seconds of thought, I grabbed Leo’s wrist. “I want a fruit bowl.” Lied. I didn’t want one. Although Leo made everything delicious, and his desserts suited my taste. Leo paused, his gaze lingering on my fingertips holding him, his voice as gentle as ever. “Okay.” I pulled him inside. Before closing the door, I only had time to nod politely at Caleb. 3 My parents were rarely home due to work, so I was usually alone. I ate lunch and dinner at school, and on weekends, Leo took care of meals. I paid him according to his labor. He refused at first, but I always found a way to make him accept. After sunset, Leo rarely came to my house alone to be in a closed room with me. He always cared about these details and sternly warned me, “Don’t just stay alone in a closed room with others at night. What if they’re bad people?” I found it strange. “Are you ‘others’? Or are you a bad person?” He was silent for a few seconds, his voice gentle but firm. “Even me, not allowed.” Fine—it didn’t matter to me anyway. I wouldn’t let any boy other than him into my house at night. I nodded to show I listened. He relaxed, a familiar smile gradually filling his dark, gentle eyes. Leo was different from others. I had my own judgment standards. He was the only person with whom, despite our different thinking frequencies, I was willing to share my thoughts. Maybe because whatever I said, he would listen seriously. Like now. He was wearing gloves, pitting lychees for me in the kitchen. The snow-white, crystal-clear flesh was neatly stacked in a glass bowl, clean and translucent, looking excellent. “Caleb gives me a different feeling from others,” I said slowly. “It’s weird.” Was it a magnetic field, hormones, or some kind of drug? Leo stopped, thought for a few seconds. “What kind of weird?” I honestly told Leo about my strange reactions, like accelerated heartbeat, rising body temperature, and intrusive thoughts. Leo stopped talking and sighed slowly. His eyelashes were thick and black, the kind girls would envy. Those clear eyes held a bit of helplessness. Because he understood what I meant. He chose his words carefully. “Julia, if you study Caleb, you’ll use legal means, right?” Meanwhile, I was deep in thought. “Physical exams are coming up. I need to find a way to get a blood sample from Caleb.” Leo: “…” He silently divided a small bowl of lychees for me. I didn’t intend to continue the topic, as it would take some time to observe and confirm my hypothesis. I readily picked up a piece with a strawberry metal fork, biting into the fresh lychee flesh. The cool, sweet juice filled my mouth. I squinted in satisfaction, mumbling, “Of course, I can’t rule out pure coincidence, or the possibility that I’m just attracted to him.” Objectively speaking, Caleb could be considered a likeable boy. So even if there was a 0.01% chance, it was possible. I was a science student; I deeply understood the need for rigor in drawing conclusions. Leo’s movements paused imperceptibly, then he lowered his eyes. I finally confirmed my feeling wasn’t wrong. I looked at Leo with some surprise, thinking, He’s really unhappy. Second time tonight—even if just a little bit. So why was he unhappy? After all, most of the time, Leo’s emotions were as stable as a lake. But he didn’t give me a chance to ask. He put the semi-finished lychee jelly into the fridge and said gently, “I’ll help you finish it tomorrow.” I blinked. “My fruit bowl?” “If you don’t want to eat, don’t force yourself,” Leo took off his gloves and gave his conclusion calmly. “I’m going back. Sleep early, Julia.” After ten years together, he seemed to know everything about me. I said “Oh,” not denying his words. Instead, I casually forked the last piece of lychee in the bowl to his lips. Leo looked down at my fingers, seemingly freezing for two seconds, before carefully biting along the edge of the fruit. He avoided the strawberry fork and my hand. But that tiny bit of strange emotion had vanished. Watching the faint blush on his ears and his hasty turn, I said contentedly, “Goodnight.” “Goodnight.” Although I didn’t understand why he was unhappy, it didn’t matter. I was equally adept at making him happy. 4 I woke up before dawn. Getting dressed and ready to open the door, I hesitated for a moment. But soon, I turned the handle. Then, unsurprisingly, the same sound came from across the hall. Caleb was wearing a black T-shirt and shorts, hair messy, eyes foggy as if he hadn’t woken up. Seeing me, he paused. “Julia?” This encounter still showed no signs of deliberate planning. I had run into him too many times in the morning before, so today I purposely left two and a half hours early. 4:30 AM. This time absolutely didn’t fit Caleb’s normal schedule. But I still ran into him. “Why are you up so early?” He raised an eyebrow in surprise, then teased with a half-smile. “Is this how top students are?” Of course not. Even if I loved studying, I was human and needed sufficient sleep. How could I wake up at 4:30 every day? Today was just an accident. I answered with a question. “And you? Why are you up so early?” “I heard a kitten.” At the mention, Caleb frowned. “I’ve raised many cats. This one sounds injured.” He paused, then said, “I’m going down to look for it.” We lived on the second floor. I didn’t hear a cat, but he did. Of course, this didn’t prove anything. Maybe he was a light sleeper, left his window open, or the cat was closer to him. But either way, it was a bit far-fetched. So these coincidences might really be influenced by some supernatural factors. Having confirmed part of my hypothesis, I should have turned back and gone to sleep. But whether from reason or intuition, I couldn’t suppress the surging curiosity and desire for knowledge. If there really was a mysterious force urging Caleb and me to be alone together, I admitted, it succeeded. I was silent for a few seconds. “I’ll help you look.” “Okay.” Caleb agreed readily, but fished something out from his entryway. It was a bottle of mosquito repellent. His hand with distinct knuckles held the small green bottle, and he naturally squatted down. “Lots of mosquitoes now. Don’t get bitten.” I was wearing school-issued long pants, but having grown taller, the legs were a bit short, revealing a bit of ankle. The sprayed mist created a Tyndall effect in the dim hallway light. I looked down at Caleb, fingers on my wrist again. Heartbeat accelerated again. Caleb put back the repellent, turned on his phone flashlight, and casually instructed, “Your building stairs are steep. I’ll go first. Watch your step, don’t fall.” I took a step down, and my clear head suddenly felt a pang of pain. Blurry memories surged, frame by frame, scene by scene, all of the same person. It was a little boy. Every time before going out, he would spray mosquito repellent for me. When I got bitten, he would bring a small jar of light-colored balm, apply it to the red swelling, and sternly tell me not to scratch. “The more you scratch, the itchier it gets. If you break the skin, it’ll scar…” In the evening, we went to the park to see fireflies. He held a flashlight and stood in front of me, telling me to walk slowly. He was taller than me, back to me, backlit, I couldn’t see his face. But the moonlight was beautiful that day. The river shimmered like silver sand and satin, carrying lotus-shaped river lanterns one after another. The little boy sat beside me, his figure gradually, gradually merging with Caleb in front of me, becoming identical. I stopped in a daze. “What’s wrong?” Caleb turned to look at me. I stared at him, suddenly having a very subtle premonition. I stopped the moment I felt off-balance. If I continued, would I suddenly miss a step? Caleb in front of me might catch me, or I might knock him down—but we would inevitably have physical contact. My heartbeat would become irregular, body temperature rise, blood circulation accelerate, dopamine secretion increase, and my head would become even more muddled. I would ask him if he was that little boy from the past. Was it him? Was it really him? Childhood memories suddenly became so blurry to me. Where did I live? Was he my playmate? Did this memory really exist? Did I forget something? I pressed my temples, whispered I was fine, and continued downstairs silently. “Caleb.” The moment I stepped out of the stairwell, I asked him, “Did you catch fireflies in the past?” He didn’t look back, voice relaxed. “I lived here as a kid, right by the river. How could I not have done that?” “Is that so?” I didn’t press. But the next second, Caleb turned around, smiling at me with raised eyebrows. “Why, did you catch them too? Maybe we’ve met—I even helped a little girl catch them when I was small.” Click. All the clues fit together perfectly, flawlessly. This memory was like a pearl buried by long years—white, clean, crystal clear, tempting passersby to touch. Caleb pulled a kitten with an injured right hind leg from the low bushes. It looked like a stray, fur matted and dirty, original color unrecognizable. But its eyes were clear blue. It mewed weakly, leaning obediently against Caleb. Caleb held it in his arms without disdain, looking gentle, soothing it in a low voice. “Need to take it to the hospital,” he said. “Looks like it stepped in a trap. Needs a splint.” At this hour, most vet clinics were closed. But I happened to know an owner who would open. Another vague memory surfaced in my mind. A little boy and I holding a cat, walking urgently on the road, knocking on different clinic doors. Only one clinic opened. A young woman in a mask looked at us in surprise, then took the cat. The boy looked up, telling the doctor about the cat’s condition. His dirty hands were stained with the cat’s blood. The night breeze blew a strand of hair on the back of his head. His back was thin but straight. I looked up at Caleb in front of me. As if by some destined fate, his messy short hair was blown by the wind, his T-shirt billowing to reveal a lean figure, exactly like back then. Dawn was breaking. The morning glow plated his hair, his fingertips, his dark pupils with a shallow layer of gold, gentle and beautiful. My heart was suddenly soaked in an emotion that could be called warmth, wet. Perhaps in this moment, the look I gave Caleb was also wet. I thought: [He’s so good.] I thought: [I remember it all.] I thought: [So that’s how it was.] I thought: [I might be a little…] The pounding heart, rapid breathing, the summer night waiting side by side for dawn. No one wouldn’t be moved, right? Like a god whispering in my ear. But I took a step back, withdrawing from such warm emotions without hesitation. I thought: [Thief, liar, ridiculous, nonsense.] I thought: [Whatever is at work, stop it.] Caleb looked at me, a silent inquiry. I lowered my eyes, voice calm. “I’ll give you the number.” “Hmm?” “The owner of this vet clinic will open at this hour.” I moved quickly, taking a notepad and pen from my pocket, writing a number and handing it to him. “Just take the kitten there.” “You’re not coming with me?” Caleb sounded surprised. “I have things to do,” I turned without hesitation. “I’ll visit it later.” My mind was probably being controlled. It sounded incredible, but with so many unsolved mysteries, maybe a higher-dimensional force really existed. Besides certainty, I felt a long-lost anger.

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Seven years after I vanished, my brother found me on an organ donation registry. He stared at the file in the nurse’s hands, his brow furrowed as he took in the photo and the name I used to go by. “Where is she?” “Palliative care, twelfth floor. Today’s the last day she’ll be lucid. The surgery is tomorrow.” His face a thundercloud, he stormed up to the twelfth floor. When he shoved the door open, he found me writing my last will and testament. “Vicky.” I looked up, a placid smile touching my lips. “You must have the wrong person, Mr. Miller. My name is Ava now. Not Vicky.” He stalked toward the bed, his voice rigid. “Come home. Apologize to Lily, and I’ll get you the best doctors money can buy.” “No, thank you,” I said, my voice quiet but firm. “I’ve done nothing wrong. I have nothing to apologize for.” Without looking up again, I signed the last letter of my name on the donation forms. … After a long, tense silence, he let out a cold laugh. “Still playing the victim. Seven years, and you still have that same innocent act down.” “You’re sick? What is it? Why the surgery?” I managed a small, tired smile. “Late-stage glioblastoma. I don’t have much time left.” “Rather than rotting in the ground, I figured my organs could save a few lives.” Graham’s expression flickered for a moment, a brief flash of something unreadable before his cold mask snapped back into place. “Spare me the act. You think playing the pity card will make me go soft on you?” His eyes swept over the bare, cheap room, a sneer twisting his lips. “Looks like life on your own didn’t treat you so well. If you hadn’t done what you did, you wouldn’t have ended up like this.” I glanced down at my own skeletal hands, saying nothing. “Vicky…” he said suddenly, his voice laced with a strange, struggling note. “Are you really that sick?” I met his gaze, my own eyes chillingly calm. “What’s it to you, Mr. Miller?” “I’m your brother!” “My brother’s sister died seven years ago.” His face turned ashen with fury, his eyes locked on mine. “You hate me that much? Don’t you remember what happened back then? It was your own…” “Enough,” I cut him off. “You didn’t come here to dredge up the past, did you, Graham? Whatever you want, just say it.” He opened his mouth, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. “Let me guess,” I said slowly, the realization dawning with a cold, sickening clarity. “She needs a liver, doesn’t she?” Graham didn’t answer. But the way his gaze darted away told me everything I needed to know. I leaned back against the pillows, a hollow laugh escaping my lips. “So that’s it.” “After seven years, she finally remembers her big sister.” “You’re here to ask for my liver for her, aren’t you?” “Not ask,” he corrected, his voice hard. “It’s what you should do. You volunteered the first time, and now Lily needs it again. You’re still her sister. It’s your responsibility.” The sheer absurdity of it all washed over me. “Graham, when you threw me out of the house seven years ago, did you think of me as her sister then?” “You brought that on yourself!” he shot back, his voice rising. “If you hadn’t done all those vicious things, framing Lily, why would I have ever kicked you out? You’re still lying, still playing the innocent victim. Did you think hiding for seven years would make me forget what you did?” I closed my eyes, my heart a dead weight in my chest. He never once doubted. He never once believed it wasn’t me. “Just go,” I whispered, exhausted. “I need to rest.” “Vicky!” He grabbed my shoulders, his grip like iron. “Listen to me! Lily needs your liver!” I opened my eyes and looked straight into his. “Then she’ll have to wait for a donor. My organs are already promised to strangers.” “You—” He was shaking with rage. “How can you be so heartless? Lily saved my life! Without her, the Miller family wouldn’t exist today! And you… you’re just an ungrateful viper!” I said nothing, simply turning my head to look out the window. “I’m going to make this very clear, Vicky,” he said, releasing me. His voice dropped to an icy whisper. “If you don’t save Lily, I won’t let you die. Not peacefully.” “I’ll use every resource the Miller family has to keep you alive. I’ll make you live a life so miserable, you’ll beg for death.” His threats landed on me like stones in a dead sea. Not a single ripple. “Do whatever you want.” He gave me one last, hard look before turning and storming out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him. I lay alone in the hospital bed as silent tears finally traced paths down my temples. My mind drifted back fourteen years. I was thirteen, and Graham was twenty-one. Our parents had died together in a car crash, leaving behind a massive family fortune and a horde of greedy relatives circling like vultures. Back then, Graham was like a wolf protecting his cub. He shielded me from everything, shouldering the entire weight of the world on his own. At the funeral, a drunken uncle pointed a finger at me, slurring, “You little curse! If it wasn’t for you, your parents would still be alive!” Graham laid him out with a single punch, leaving him bloody on the floor. “Anyone who touches a hair on my sister’s head,” he snarled, “will wish they were never born.” That night, he held me as I cried myself sick, whispering it over and over again. “It’s okay, Vicky. I’m here.” “I’ll always protect you, for the rest of my life.” And I believed him. I thought it would always be the two of us against the world. But when our half-sister, Lily, arrived, everything shattered. She was frail and sickly, so Graham gave her my room, the one with the best sunlight. She was a picky eater, so he took her out to fancy restaurants every night. She was afraid of sleeping alone, so he’d sit in her room until she drifted off. A month before my final exams, Lily was diagnosed with a rare liver disease. She was dying. Graham was frantic. He flew her to the best hospitals in the country, consulted with every top specialist. The doctors gave him two options: wait for a donor or find a living relative for a transplant. Waiting could take a year, maybe two. She didn’t have that long. For a living transplant, they needed a direct relative with a matching blood type. In the entire family, only I was a match. He came to talk to me while I was studying in my small, dim room. “Vicky,” he began, his voice softer than it had been in months. “You’ve heard about Lily, right?” I didn’t respond. “The doctors say your liver is the most compatible.” I turned a page in my textbook. “Vicky, she’s going to die,” his voice trembled. “Please. I’m begging you. Save her.” I finally looked up at him. “Graham, do you remember the last time I was sick?” He blinked, thrown. “I had a 104-degree fever. I was alone in my room for two days, and no one checked on me. Where were you? You were out shopping with Lily. Because she said she was feeling a little down.” He opened his mouth. “Vicky, I was wrong about that…” “And what about the time I was pushed down the stairs?” I cut him off. “I told you Lily did it. What did you say? You said I was clumsy and trying to blame her.” His face went pale. “Vicky…” “You want me to save her, Graham?” I stood up, facing him directly. “Fine.” “But after this, we’re even. I’m no longer a part of this family, and you are no longer my brother.” He flinched as if I’d struck him. “What are you saying?” “I’m saying I’ll donate part of my liver,” I said, my voice cold and steady. “But after it’s done, I’m leaving. And you will all act as if I’m dead.” He was silent for a long, heavy moment. Finally, he nodded. On the day of the surgery, as they wheeled me into the operating room, I saw him standing by the door. His lips moved, as if he wanted to say something. But in the end, he said nothing at all. The surgery was a success. Lily lived. I lost a third of my liver and never set foot in the Miller house again. That afternoon, Graham returned. This time, Lily was with him. After seven years, she had grown even more beautiful, her eyes still dark and luminous. Graham sat by my bed. “Vicky, Lily came to see you.” “Vicky,” Lily stepped forward, her eyes welling with tears. “I heard you were sick. I was so worried…” “Cut the act,” I snapped. “It’s just the three of us here. Who are you performing for?” Lily’s face went white, and a tear slipped down her cheek. “Why do you hate me so much, Vicky? What happened back then wasn’t my fault…” “Not your fault?” I scoffed. “Lily, you stole my login and posted those disgusting things about yourself in the class group chat. You cheated off my exam paper. You pushed me down the stairs. None of that was you?” “That’s enough!” Graham shot to his feet. “Vicky, it’s been seven years! Are you still telling those same lies?” “All the evidence pointed to you! When are you going to stop trying to frame Lily? You were jealous of her, jealous that she was better than you, so you made up all these stories to destroy her!” His words were like knives, each one twisting deeper into my heart. “Graham, are you so sure that I’m the one who’s lying?” “Aren’t you?” he retorted. “The teachers, the students… they all saw what you did back then. You were the one bullying her, you were the one consumed by jealousy!” I closed my eyes, too weary to fight anymore. It was useless. He would never believe me. “Vicky,” Lily moved closer, reaching for my hand. “I know you hate me. But when Graham told me you were sick, I was truly heartbroken… If you need money for treatment, I’ll give you all my savings…” I yanked my hand away. “Save your little theatrics, Lily!” I turned my gaze to Graham. “Alright, I know why you’re both here. But my answer is no. I’m not giving her my liver.” “I would rather give it to a complete stranger than save her a second time.” Graham’s face became a mask of cold fury. “Are you really that heartless, Vicky?” “Yes, I am,” I said, looking him dead in the eye. “Seven years ago, I gave her a third of my liver. And what did I get in return? You threw me out on the street! Now you come back asking for more? On what grounds?” “You deserved it!” “Fine,” I nodded slowly. “Then if she doesn’t get a transplant now, I guess she deserves that, too.” “After all, you reap what you sow.” Graham trembled with rage. He lunged forward and grabbed the collar of my hospital gown. “Don’t push me, Vicky!” “Or what?” I stared right back at him, unafraid. “Are you going to hit me? Kill me? I’m already dying. Go ahead.” His hand was shaking. After a moment, he released me, taking a deep, ragged breath. “Vicky, I’m asking you one last time. Will you save Lily?” “No.” “Fine,” he sneered. “Then don’t blame me for what comes next.” He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Do it. Just like we discussed.” A cold dread filled my stomach. “What are you doing?” “Nothing,” he said, pocketing his phone. “Since you’re so eager to donate your organs to strangers, I’ll just have to make sure those strangers never get them. I’m having the hospital cancel your donation request.” “And then,” he continued, his voice utterly devoid of emotion, “I’m going to use every resource the Miller family has to keep you alive. You’ll stay in this world, in agony, until you agree to save Lily.” My eyes widened in horror. “You’re insane!” “You drove me to this,” he said coldly. “You’re so selfish, Vicky. You’d rather let innocent people die than let go of your pathetic pride and resentment. You’re just as vicious as you were seven years ago.” With that, he took Lily by the arm and left. I lay in bed, my body shaking with helpless fury. That evening, a hospital administrator informed me that my organ donation surgery had been cancelled. “We received a report expressing concern over your mental state, suggesting you may not be fit to make this decision. We’ll need to conduct a new psychological evaluation, which could take at least a month.” The next morning, I was transferred. To the best private hospital in the state. My room was a VIP suite, and my new doctor was the nation’s leading neuro-oncologist. Graham stood in the middle of the opulent room, looking down at me. “You will cooperate with the treatment. After Lily’s surgery is done, you can live or die. I won’t care.” “Graham, this is kidnapping! It’s illegal!” “Call it whatever you want,” he shrugged, completely unconcerned. “I’m saving your life. Who’s going to argue with that?” “You’re a monster!” “You made me one.” He leaned over my bed, his face close to mine. “If you had just agreed, Vicky, none of this would have been necessary.” I stared into his eyes and saw nothing but a terrifying, obsessive madness. He would do exactly what he threatened. “Fine,” I closed my eyes, the fight draining out of me. “I’ll do it.” He froze. “What did you say?” “I said I’ll save her.” I opened my eyes, my gaze flat and empty as I looked at him. “But I have one condition.” “Name it.” “After the surgery, you leave me alone. You don’t interfere. You let me die how I choose.” He hesitated for a moment. “Fine. I agree.” The next day, they wheeled me into surgery. Graham stood by the door, his expression unreadable. “Vicky…” I didn’t look at him. I just closed my eyes. The surgery took four hours. It was a success. Another piece of my liver was placed inside Lily’s body. Afterward, I was moved to the ICU. Suddenly, a shrill alarm blared through the unit. “Patient is in cardiac arrest! Code Blue!” The heart monitor let out one long, continuous tone. My heart stopped. My soul felt light, drifting upward, out of my body. Through the glass wall of the ICU, I saw Graham. He was talking to a doctor, his face relaxed, relieved that Lily’s surgery had gone well. When a nurse rushed out to give him the news of my death, he just gave a short, dismissive “Okay,” his brow barely twitching. But just then, a commotion erupted down the hall. “Mr. Miller! Mr. Miller!” It was his assistant, breathless and frantic. “We found it! The truth about what happened seven years ago! All the evidence is right here!” The assistant held out a tablet. Graham took it, his expression shifting from confusion to disbelief, and then to bone-white horror as he scrolled through the contents. “No… it can’t be…” His head snapped up, his eyes flying to my lifeless body in the ICU. They were bloodshot, filled with a storm of shock, regret, and utter despair. On the tablet screen, the evidence stabbed into him, piece by piece. A security video, grainy but clear, showed Lily sneaking my phone out of my bag. It showed her typing furiously, her lips curled into a triumphant smirk, before carefully placing the phone back exactly where she found it. Another video, from the day of the exam. It showed Lily leaning over to look at my paper while I was in the restroom, then later “accidentally” telling the teacher how I’d stayed up all night and miraculously guessed all the key topics. But the worst was the footage from the stairwell.

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My roommate, Scarlet, claimed her skin was so delicate she could only wear silk. On the day of our physical fitness test, she “accidentally” spilled coffee into her closet. Scarlet cried frantically, “Waaah~ It’s all my fault for being so clumsy and ruining all my clothes! Do I really have to wear this silk nightgown to the fitness test? But I’m so embarrassed~” Unable to bear seeing Scarlet so anxious, I lent her the expensive silk sportswear I had just bought. Scarlet completed the test smoothly. Unexpectedly, a girl from the class next door went viral for wearing a nightgown to the test. Not only was she dubbed “The Most Beautiful College Student” online, but she also won the favor of the rich campus heartthrob. Scarlet was consumed by jealousy: “It’s all your fault, you bitch, for meddling! Otherwise, all of this would have been mine!” She heated a curling iron until it was scalding hot and branded every inch of my skin. I was tortured to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the fitness test. 1 I woke up screaming in agony, my body drenched in cold sweat. My fingers instinctively touched my arm. It should have been covered in hideous burn scars, but right now, it was as smooth as ever. “Sarah, you’re awake?” A sickeningly sweet voice came from the opposite bunk. Scarlet was applying makeup in front of the mirror, a steaming cup of coffee on her desk. “What’s wrong? You look terrible.” Scarlet turned around, tilting her head to look at me, her big eyes blinking, looking utterly harmless. “Nothing, just a bad dream.” I forced myself to calm down and started getting dressed and making my bed. Scarlet continued to hum and apply makeup, occasionally stealing glances at me through the mirror. I knew what she was waiting for. She was waiting for that carefully designed “accident.” Sure enough, as I prepared to go wash up, an exaggerated scream came from behind me. “Ah!” Scarlet “slipped” and knocked over her coffee cup. The dark brown liquid splashed precisely into her open closet. She frantically grabbed tissues to wipe it, only smearing the coffee stains even more. In my past life, I would have already rushed over to help her save her clothes. Now, I just watched her performance coldly. “Waaah~ It’s all my fault for being so clumsy! I ruined all my clothes!” Scarlet’s tears came instantly: “What should I do? Do I really have to wear this silk nightgown to the fitness test? But I’m so embarrassed~” The exact same lines as before, even the tone was identical. She tugged at the creamy white silk nightgown she was wearing. The neckline was just low enough to be both innocent and seductive. My other two roommates, Maya and Chloe, busied themselves with their own things. They had no intention of responding. Living together for six months, they had long seen through Scarlet’s “pick-me” nature. Only I, with my incredible denseness, had foolishly treated Scarlet as a best friend. Seeing I didn’t respond immediately, Scarlet cried even harder: “Sarah, why aren’t you saying anything? Boohoo… It’s all because my skin is too sensitive and I can only wear silk. Even if you lent me clothes, I couldn’t wear them. But if I wear a nightgown to the test, those gross guys will definitely stare at me. It’s so annoying!” 2 I looked at her hypocritical face, my stomach churning. Scarlet had put on a full face of makeup today, curled her hair, and even had an exquisite French manicure. Does this look like someone panicked over ruining their clothes? It was clearly a carefully planned performance. But in my past life, I was deceived by her pitiful act. I unhesitatingly took out the expensive designer silk sportswear I had just spent over three thousand dollars on and lent it to her. At the time, Scarlet’s expression stiffened, and she hesitated to take it. I naively thought she was still upset about her ruined clothes. I not only held her hand and comforted her for a long time but also offered to pay for dry cleaning all her stained clothes. Looking back now, Scarlet looked upset because I ruined her plan. After completing the fitness test in my sportswear, she turned around and bragged everywhere that she bought it herself. When she returned the clothes to me, there were several unremovable oil stains on them. On that same day, I went to the dry cleaners to pick up her clothes. Only to learn from the clerk that Scarlet’s clothes weren’t real silk at all, but cheap imitation silk. In other words, her so-called “delicate skin” was just a persona she created. But to protect her privacy, I didn’t say anything and pretended not to know. Ironically, a girl from the class next door happened to wear a nightgown to the test that day and accidentally went viral. Not only did she become an overnight sensation as “The Most Beautiful College Student,” but she also attracted the attention of the rich campus heartthrob. When Scarlet found out, she went mad with jealousy and vented all her anger on me. “It’s all your fault, you bitch, for meddling! Otherwise, all of this would have been mine!” She took advantage of the holidays when the other two roommates went home early, tied me to the bed in the middle of the night. She heated a curling iron until it was scalding hot and branded every inch of my skin, torturing me all night long. I screamed in agony, but she laughed maniacally. “Keep that bitch mouth shut in your next life! Now die!!” In the end, I was tortured to death in excruciating pain. Afterward, Scarlet staged the scene as an accidental fire. She not only got away scot-free but also received consolation money from the school. And I ended up with no remains. Hatred surged within me. I bit my lower lip hard until I tasted blood before letting go. In this life, I won’t help again. I will make her eat her own evil fruit and be doomed forever! 3 I feigned concern and asked, “So what do you plan to do?” Scarlet bit her lower lip, her eyes flickering: “Actually… wearing a nightgown isn’t impossible, it’s just a bit embarrassing… But for the test, I guess I have to endure it.” Hearing her pretentious answer, I almost laughed out loud. She bought this nightgown just last week; it’s hard not to suspect it was specially prepared for the fitness test. “Scarlet, actually, I think wearing a nightgown to the test is fine.” Scarlet was visibly stunned: “W-what?” I pretended to be sincere: “Look, your nightgown is silk, comfortable and breathable, perfect for exercise. And…” I paused and lowered my voice: “I heard Liam, the senior, will be supervising the test today!” At the mention of Liam’s name, Scarlet’s eyes visibly lit up. Liam was not only the president of the Student Union Sports Department and the recognized campus heartthrob, but his family was also a famous real estate developer in the city. Countless girls in school had a crush on him, and Scarlet was naturally no exception. “But… wouldn’t that be too flashy?” Scarlet was still pretending to hesitate. Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I continued to fan the flames: “How could it be? You’re so pretty, others will only envy you. Maybe Senior Liam will even notice you.” Scarlet pretended to lower her head shyly: “Oh, don’t say that~ Then I’ll go change my shoes, these slippers don’t match.” From the corner of my eye, I saw her change into a pair of delicate small heels. She casually picked up her perfume and sprayed it on herself a few times. Before leaving, Scarlet stood in front of the full-length mirror, carefully adjusting the neckline and hem of her nightgown. A triumphant smile hung on her lips, completely devoid of the panic and helplessness from earlier. “I’m leaving now~” Scarlet blew us a kiss and walked out, swaying her hips. As soon as she left, Maya immediately leaned over: “Sarah, why did you encourage her to wear that out today? That’s not like you.” I smiled faintly: “Do you think her spilling coffee today was a real accident?” Maya’s eyes widened: “You mean…?” I nodded and whispered, “She did it on purpose. Why should I spoil her fun?” Before leaving the dorm, I sent a message to the class gossip, Laura. “Big news at the fitness test field. Girl wearing a silk nightgown. Come quick.” Laura was a campus influencer with tens of thousands of followers and loved filming sensational videos. Didn’t Scarlet want to be famous? This time, I’ll grant her wish. 4 On the track field, Scarlet’s appearance indeed caused a sensation. She wore that silk nightgown, the hem fluttering as she walked, revealing her fair thighs. She pretended to be shy, lowering her head, but deliberately slowed her pace to ensure everyone noticed her. Boys glanced sideways frequently, while girls whispered. “Holy crap, is she here for a fitness test or a fashion show?” “Which class is she from? Wearing a nightgown to a fitness test, isn’t that too slutty?” “Those legs, damn!” Hearing the discussions, Scarlet pretended to be flustered on the surface, but her eyes scanned the crowd triumphantly. She enjoyed the attention, unaware that fate had begun to deviate from her envisioned track. Because I saw Laura already holding up her phone to record. The PE teacher was also attracted by the commotion and walked over with a dark face: “Student Scarlet! What are you wearing?” Scarlet put on an innocent look: “Teacher, I accidentally dirty my sportswear, so I can only wear this.” “Nonsense!” The teacher scolded sternly: “How can you test dressed like this? Go back and change!” “Teacher~” Scarlet started to act coquettish, her usual trick: “Just let it slide this once, I promise it won’t affect the test.” But the PE teacher was a serious middle-aged woman who despised this frivolous behavior: “Either go back and change, or be marked as absent!” Quite a few students had gathered to watch the drama, and some started snickering. Scarlet’s face turned red and white; clearly, she didn’t expect this situation. Just then, the crowd suddenly stirred. Liam walked over with a few Sports Department members. Scarlet’s eyes lit up. She immediately adjusted her posture, pulling down the nightgown strap slightly to reveal more skin. “Senior.” She called out delicately, her voice sweet enough to drip honey. Liam frowned and looked at her: “Student, please observe the fitness test discipline.” “I just…” Scarlet wanted to defend herself, but a loud voice interrupted her.

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When I was ten, I threw a tantrum, demanding my brother come home for my birthday. He died in a plane crash that day, his body never recovered. From that moment on, I became a thorn in my parents’ side. They resented me for causing his death. Every year on the anniversary, they forced me to kneel at his grave and repent. This went on for eight years. I thought I would spend my life atoning, but on my eighteenth birthday, I was stalked and murdered by a serial killer. Before I died, I tried everything to message my mom for help, but she only scolded me. “I see you just don’t want to repent for your brother, lying like this! If you hadn’t forced him to come back, my son wouldn’t have died. This is the karma you deserve!” She hung up without hesitation. I stared blankly at the dark screen, my will to live suddenly gone. Yeah, what right did a jinx like me have to live? But later, when my brother, dead for eight years, returned with a pregnant wife… And they learned of my death… They all broke down. Chapter 1 On my tenth birthday, I made a fatal mistake. I killed my own brother. I grew up in a happy family. Loving parents, an excellent brother. I was the apple of everyone’s eye. But all that was shattered by a single phone call. That day was my birthday. I called my brother, begging him to come home and celebrate with me. As a result, he lost his life. A plane crash. No remains were ever found. Since then, my parents hated me to the bone. More than once, they told me: “Why did you have to force him to come back? Why wasn’t it you who died?” In that accident, not only did my brother die, but a part of me died too. Guilt, regret, and my parents’ accusations pushed me further into the abyss. I asked myself countless times why I made him come back, why I killed him, why God took him. If I hadn’t called him that day, would he still be alive? Unfortunately, there are no “ifs” in this world. And no one was willing to give me an answer. From the age of ten, my life was defined by one word: Atonement. Every year on the anniversary of his death—my birthday—my parents made me go to the cemetery, kneel before his empty grave, and apologize. This kneeling lasted for eight years. Just when I thought my life was withered enough, I was found by the “Rainy Night Butcher” and brutally murdered. Actually, I tried desperately to survive. I took out the stun gun my dad had given me. It was shaped like a cute white sheep keychain. Once, because of Dad’s job as a forensic pathologist, he offended some dangerous people. Mom and I were kidnapped. Mom was dragged by a car for meters trying to save me. Dad took a knife to the chest for us. We only survived thanks to the police. After that, Dad gave me this keychain for my safety. It was a high-voltage stun gun. He taught me how to use it and told me: “Dad can’t be by your side forever. You must protect yourself.” But somehow, when the killer grabbed me and I tried to jam the device into him… It didn’t work. I lost my last chance at survival. Even now, I remember everything vividly. Wrench, pliers, axe. Each tool used on me without mercy. My terrified expression was his stimulant. It hurt. It hurt so much I cried, losing control of my bodily functions. I never knew the sound of bones breaking could be so loud, echoing so clearly in my ears. Skin separated from flesh. My vision turned red. I fell into a coma. Chapter 2 When I opened my eyes again, I was a spirit. I was shocked to find myself in the police station. Outside, lightning flashed and thunder rolled. Dad was wearing his work uniform, his eyes full of sorrow. Around him were several young forensic assistants. On the metal table lay a bag of dismembered body parts. This was the corpse bag Captain Xu and his team had struggled to find, the one not washed away by the heavy rain. I never imagined my death would be discovered so quickly. Perhaps God took pity on my pathetic life. A homeless man scavenging for food found the bag. He thought he’d struck gold with a bag of meat. Who knew he would see human fingers? A heavy rain raised the curtain on a brutal dismemberment case. Lightning and thunder raged outside, rain pouring down. The entire police force and K-9 units were searching the city. Captain Xu’s face was full of rage. He couldn’t control his emotions. The brutal MO was identical to the Rainy Night Butcher from seven or eight years ago. “Old Zhou, don’t you think this case looks like the Rainy Night Butcher’s handy work?” Dad’s face changed. The Rainy Night Butcher was a killer who specifically chose rainy days to strike, delighting in torturing and killing young women. He destroyed countless happy families. Back then, Dad had finally found evidence to arrest him. But the butcher realized it and fled. For revenge, he tampered with the plane my brother was on. Dragging my brother to die in that accident. Neither of their bodies was ever found. So Captain Xu immediately thought of that madman. If he wasn’t dead, he would definitely come back for revenge. He couldn’t help reminding Dad: “Old Zhou, if it really is him, you must tell your wife and Chloe not to go out. Especially Chloe, she fits his target profile!” But hearing my name, Dad’s anxious face instantly turned cold. “She should have died long ago.” Hearing that sentence, my heart ached. Yes, I should have died long ago. These eight years were a stolen life. Captain Xu knew about the past. He wanted to comfort Dad but could only frown. Back then, after learning of my brother’s death, my parents searched the mountain where the plane crashed for three days and three nights. Finally, with bloodshot eyes, they knelt by the road, begging the heavens to return their son. The pain of losing a child in middle age was something my parents could never get over. Thinking of this, Captain Xu sighed. “Old Zhou, don’t think too much. The bureau is pressing hard. The higher-ups are taking this case very seriously!” Dad knew the stakes, so he started working. He carefully took the pieces of flesh out of the bag. But in that instant, he couldn’t help cursing. “F*ck his ancestors.” “Is this even human?” A young forensic doctor, seeing such a corpse for the first time, also had red eyes. But right now, the most important thing was to identify the victim. After the officers brought back all the body fragments they could find, Dad began to piece together the shape of the body. I floated beside him, watching him spend a day piecing together a skinless torso. I felt somewhat relieved. I knew my death was ugly, and I was worried Dad would be scared if he recognized me. I was also relieved that this life full of guilt was finally over. Captain Xu looked at the red corpse on the table. Even with his years of experience, his face was extremely pale. He asked Dad if the killer did this to destroy evidence or out of pure psychopathy. Dad’s face was dark. After a long while, he said hoarsely: “It wasn’t to destroy evidence. Our tests show the victim was skinned alive.” He clenched his fists, restraining himself. “This was purely to vent anger!” He pointed at my body. “Look, there are even traces of salt corrosion on this body! The killer tortured the victim, cutting off her flesh piece by piece!” Speaking of this, Dad’s face was full of unbearable pain. He said sorrowfully: “And this is just a girl between 16 and 20! What kind of hatred could justify this!” Floating beside Dad, I couldn’t help but applaud him. He truly was the city’s best forensic pathologist, able to accurately determine my cause of death. Captain Xu’s eyes grew colder. “What a f*cking psycho! Bastard with no parents!” His chest heaved with anger, then he asked again: “We are currently searching for women aged 16 to 20 who went missing in the last two days, hoping to find the victim’s information soon.” Chapter 3 Hearing this, Dad seemed to remember something and spoke again. “By the way, the bag where the killer stored the body is missing the right leg bone. It’s very likely the victim’s leg bone has congenital or acquired injuries, deformities, or surgical marks that could prove her identity.” “And because the victim’s face was destroyed by acid, facial reconstruction will take time.” He sighed and took off his gloves. Beside Dad’s hand lay that bloodstained little sheep keychain. Obviously, he had also forgotten that this was the tool he gave me for protection. After finishing the work at hand, Dad glanced at his phone. But upon seeing the content, he furiously called Mom. “Did you see the message from Chloe? That liar, how could she say something like that? I think she did it on purpose to provoke us!” Dad was clearly furious. “Doesn’t she know that if she hadn’t insisted on her brother coming back, Connor wouldn’t have been killed by the Rainy Night Butcher? And now, Chloe actually claims she’s being followed!” Watching Dad’s face turn red with anger, I felt sad. Dad, I really didn’t lie. I really died. How could I use the person who killed my brother to provoke you? How could I do such a thing? I was truly helpless and desperate when I sent that message asking for help. But Dad couldn’t see me. Neither could Mom. I heard her on the other end of the phone, equally angry. “I saw her message too. I pretended not to see it. She must be trying to skive off. That damn girl doesn’t know how to atone for her sins at all!” I listened to their denunciation of me. Sadly, I covered my ears. Just when I thought they would never know about my death, my best friend, Sarah, rushed into the police station. She said I had been missing for two days. However, just as the officer was about to register the name, Dad stopped them. “No need. Chloe is my daughter. She isn’t missing; she’s just doing this to threaten me and her mother…” Hearing this, the officer looked at Sarah awkwardly. Knowing Dad’s identity, he could only turn away. I watched Sarah leave the station in despair, tears streaming down my face. I wanted to chase after her, but I was bound to Dad. Watching him process my skull, following him home after work. On the dinner table, there were always braised fish, spicy crab, and oil-braised prawns. Mom remembered Brother’s favorites but was stingy about remembering my seafood allergy. Once, when Dad asked why I wasn’t eating, I thought he was finally going to love me. I gripped my chopsticks, summoning my courage. “Dad, I’m allergic to seafood…” Mom slammed her chopsticks down and pointed at my nose, cursing. “What sin did I commit to give birth to such an ungrateful thing! I worked hard to make a table full of food, and now it’s a crime?” I looked helplessly at Dad, the hero who used to stand up for me when I upset Mom. This time, the hero just put a large piece of crab in my bowl. “Eat properly. Don’t make your mom angry.” Their gazes pressured me, as if not eating would make me a sinner. In the end, that plate of drunken crab went into my stomach. That day, my throat swelled until I could barely breathe, my eyes were so swollen I couldn’t see, and my whole body itched and hurt. “Help… help me…” My voice was hoarse. I stumbled to the door, trying to open it, but the handle wouldn’t turn. Panic engulfed me. I pounded on the door, trying to make a sound. “Help, help me… Dad, Mom… help me… I don’t want to die…” Vaguely, I heard Mom’s voice from the living room. “It’s just an allergy; she won’t die. Good thing I locked the door. She just knows how to act pitiful, disgusting! Last night Connor visited me in a dream and said he wanted the latest game console. Let’s go, the mall will close if we’re late.” No! Mom, Dad, don’t leave me! I don’t want to die, save me… The living room door slammed shut. I was completely abandoned. Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe dying won’t hurt so much. I curled up in the corner, waiting for death. From downstairs, the laughter of a father and daughter drifted into my one good ear. “You silly girl, didn’t you know you’re allergic to peanuts? You ate it anyway, almost lost your life!” “Sorry Dad, I didn’t mean to. Don’t tell Mom.” “Your mom already knows. She twisted her waist in worry but still made a table of your favorite dishes waiting for you. As long as you’re okay, how can parents really hold a grudge against their child?” I felt like a sewer rat coveting someone else’s happiness, greedily and masochistically peeping at joy that didn’t belong to me. In that moment, I felt ashamed, nowhere to hide. I also wanted Mom and Dad to love me, to care about my food allergies, to cook my favorite meals, to nag me with concern. But I was just a bad child who killed her brother, unworthy of love. But Mom, Dad, I don’t want to die, I really don’t want to die… Chapter 4 I didn’t die that day. In the final moments, I jumped out the window and was taken to the hospital by a passerby. The doctor said it was fortunate I arrived in time; any later and my life would have been in danger. The lady in the next bed peeled an orange for her daughter and said to me, “It’s good you’re okay, otherwise how worried your parents would be!” I looked enviously at the lady feeding her daughter orange segments. My reflection in the glass was lonely and solitary. Comforting myself, and as if announcing to everyone, I laughed loudly, “Yes, Mom and Dad love me very, very much.” Suddenly, the ward door was pushed open violently. I saw Mom and Dad rushing towards me. A wave of grievance spread from my heart. Enduring the pain, I struggled to sit up, tears falling like rain. “Dad, Mom…” I was so scared, I was really scared I would die… Would you hug me? Just once, just once is enough… Mom grabbed my collar and yanked me off the hospital bed onto the floor. The IV needle was ripped out, blood spurting. “Damn bitch! Pretending to be pitiful, eating yourself into an allergic state and jumping off a building to make a scene known to everyone! You want to tell the world your dad and I mistreat you, ruining our reputation, right? Why didn’t you just die from the jump!” I curled up, holding my head, my body kicked again and again. I didn’t mean to hurt Mom and Dad, I just didn’t want to die… I won the gamble against the three-story height, but I lost against the depth of my parents’ hatred. I saw Dad on the glass reflection, leaning against the wall watching coldly as Mom scratched me with her nails. I saw the lady in the next bed hugging her frightened daughter, coaxing her gently. The crowd gathering at the door looked at me with disdain and contempt, as if I were a vicious child. The illusion of my parents’ love I had just mustered the courage to build was torn to shreds in front of everyone. I lied to you all. Mom and Dad don’t love me. They… love me the least… After that, my parents cut off my living expenses, and I applied to live at school. Eating one-dollar steamed buns and free vegetable soup in the cafeteria. Sleeping in a sixteen-person dorm on a straw mat with a thin quilt. The accommodation fee of a few hundred dollars used up my scholarship every semester. As I went to middle school and high school, the fees increased. I could only study day and night, hoping to score a few more points each time to win scholarships to sustain my life. I always thought that as long as I became more excellent, Mom and Dad would love me again. The reality was when I went home with a nearly perfect test paper and was praised by visiting relatives, Mom refuted without thinking. “She’s dumb as a rock, not even half as smart as Connor, how could she score so well?” Then, her round slap landed on my face. “Speak, who did you copy from?” My face burned with pain, and my heart hurt too, wishing I could disappear. Later, when the homeroom teacher called to confirm my grades, Mom just glanced at the torn test paper in the trash can and curled her lip. “What’s there to show off about such a score? Your brother got full marks in every subject back then. Unlike you, so useless, not even ashamed of this score!” Along with that test paper, my heart shattered. Mom and Dad liked smart children like my brother, so I tried hard to erase myself and become like him. I studied even harder. Spring, summer, autumn, winter. Heat rash, chilblains, mosquito bites always found me repeatedly in specific seasons. Walking out of the college entrance exam hall, I finally had the chance to prove I was an excellent child like my brother. Mom and Dad would start loving me, right… But I died on the eve of the results being released. Until death, I couldn’t become the excellent child loved by my parents like my brother. I watched my parents fill my brother’s empty bowl with rice, silently putting dishes into it. This scene repeated day after day for eight years. Wasn’t it me, the one who killed my brother, who made them like this? Did I not deserve to die too? A knock on the door, a voice from memory came. “Mom, Dad, open the door, I brought your daughter-in-law back!” I saw Dad, who was always cautious, stand up and break a bowl. Mom, always vigorous, collapsed in the chair, tears streaming down, asking Dad repeatedly, “Is it him? Is it him?” Dad walked to the door almost with same arm and leg movements, holding the handle for a long time before opening it. The wide-open door revealed a tall man standing outside. I saw him. It was my biological brother whom I had killed for eight years…

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I bought a designated parking spot at my company’s garage for convenience, only to have a shameless colleague occupy it every single day. After multiple failed attempts at communication, I gave up, sold my car, and started taking the subway. My world became peaceful. Until a week later, when I received a call from property management. “Hello, the car that’s been parking in your spot has been keyed something awful. The owner is raising hell with us. We were hoping you could…” I hung up the phone, feeling nothing but a profound sense of satisfaction. 1 The sharp, insistent dial tone was cut short. The world was suddenly quiet, save for the faint hum of the air conditioner. I tossed my phone onto my desk, the cold plastic of the end-call button still a phantom touch on my fingertip. Inside my chest, however, a long-suppressed current of warmth was finally surging through me, a pleasant heat spreading to every limb. It felt good. I leaned back in my chair and let out a long, slow breath. The tension that had been coiling in my gut for over a month finally released its grip. Through the blinds, slivers of sunlight cast bright patches on my desk; even the dust motes dancing in the air seemed to be celebrating. The nightmare of the past month, a relentless, frustrating ordeal, was finally showing signs of ending. It all started with that damned parking spot. When my company moved to a new office building, parking became a daily battle. To avoid the morning rush-hour scramble and to ensure I could leave immediately after work, I gritted my teeth and spent a significant chunk of my savings on a permanent, designated spot in the company’s private garage. The day I got the deed, I felt a sense of profound stability. That small rectangle of concrete was my personal haven in the chaotic city. I never imagined that this bastion of convenience would become the source of all my problems. Leo White, a new colleague, became the living embodiment of my nightmare. The very first day he started, I found his brand-new white SUV parked in my spot. It was parked aggressively, nose-out, practically kissing the back wall, perfectly consuming the entire space. My own car was left stranded in the aisle, waiting for a temporary spot to open up. At the time, I assumed it was an honest mistake. He was new, unfamiliar with the layout. Being a reasonably civilized professional, I didn’t make a scene. I just took out a sticky note and wrote a polite message. Hi, this is a private spot. Please refrain from parking here. Thank you. I stuck it carefully on his driver-side window, a place he couldn’t miss but that wouldn’t damage the paint. I even felt a little proud of myself for handling it with such grace and consideration. Looking back now, I was laughably naive. The next morning, when I drove into the garage, the white SUV was still there, unmoved. The sun couldn’t penetrate the gloom of the underground garage, but my temper was already starting to heat up. My carefully worded note was gone, vanished as if it had never existed. My polite reminder had been treated like a silent, odorless fart—released and forgotten. I found Leo in the company breakroom, holding a cup of coffee and laughing with other colleagues. When he saw me approach, he plastered on an overly familiar smile. “Hey, Jenna! What’s up?” I fought to keep my voice even. “Leo, are you parked in my spot? B-07?” His smile didn’t waver. It was infuriatingly casual. “Oh, yeah, I saw it was empty so I grabbed it. What’s the problem?” His breezy attitude was like a needle, expertly puncturing my forced calm. “It’s my private spot. I left a note for you yesterday.” “Huh? You did? I didn’t see it,” he said with an exaggerated blink, then waved his hand dismissively. “Whoops, my bad. I’ll pay attention next time. Anyway, you found a spot today, right? No big deal.” I stared at his grinning face, my fists clenching at my sides. What did he mean, “You found a spot”? I had spent an extra twenty minutes circling the garage like a shark, finally wedging my car into a remote corner, nearly making myself late. And he’d reduced my frustration to a flippant “no big deal.” A fire was building in my throat. I wanted to scream, but we were surrounded by colleagues. The last shred of my professional decorum held me back. “I need you to stop parking there. It’s a huge inconvenience for me,” I said, my voice turning icy. “Yeah, yeah, got it. Next time, for sure,” he said, waving me off before turning back to his conversation. But “next time” never came. The third day, the fourth day, for an entire week, that white SUV stood like a monument in my parking spot every single morning. My feelings evolved from confusion to annoyance, and finally, to a humiliating rage that grew like a weed in my heart. Every evening, I’d drag my exhausted body back to the garage and begin the scavenger hunt for an overnight spot. And every time I passed B-07 and saw that space—my space—so casually occupied, I felt my grip on the steering wheel tighten until my knuckles turned white. In the dim garage lighting, his white SUV was a glaring symbol of my powerlessness. I finally understood. For a shameless, overgrown man-child like Leo, kindness and communication were utterly useless. 2 Conventional methods had failed. I’m not one to escalate conflict, but I had been backed into a corner. That Friday, instead of going straight home, I drove to an auto parts store. The cold, heavy metal of a parking lock felt like a weapon in my hand. “This one,” I told the clerk. “The strongest you have. Can you install it tomorrow?” “Sure, Saturday’s fine. But you have to make sure the spot is empty. We can’t drill if there’s a car there,” the installer warned. “It will be,” I said through gritted teeth. To make absolutely sure, at 11 PM on Friday night, I sent a message to our department’s group chat, which had over three hundred people in it. Friendly Reminder: Spot B-07 is a private spot. I have scheduled a technician to install a parking lock tomorrow morning. To the colleague currently using the spot, please move your vehicle as soon as possible to avoid disrupting the installation. Thank you. I even tagged Leo specifically. I felt I had done everything I possibly could, covering all my bases. That night, for the first time in weeks, I slept soundly, dreaming of the satisfying clank of the lock rising, barring all trespassers. On Saturday morning, I arrived at the garage half an hour early, buzzing with the thrill of reclaiming my territory. But as I rounded the concrete pillar and my spot came into view, my excitement was doused with a bucket of ice water. The white SUV was still there. Parked as smugly as ever. It was so perfectly centered that you couldn’t have fit a piece of paper under the tires, let alone drill into the concrete. Blood rushed to my head. I pulled out my phone and dialed Leo’s number. It rang for a long time before he finally answered, his voice thick with sleep. “Hello? Who is this?” “It’s me. Jenna.” My voice was tight with anger. “I notified the group last night that I’m having a lock installed today. Why haven’t you moved your car?” A chuckle came from the other end, laced with annoyance and mockery. “Jenna, are you serious? You’re calling me on a weekend for this stupid crap? I was out drinking with friends last night, got home late. I’m still in bed. How am I supposed to move it?” His words were a physical blow. “You could have gotten a designated driver. Or you could come down and move it now. The installer is on his way,” I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “Why should I?” his voice suddenly rose. “You expect me to crawl out of bed for your little project? My head is killing me. You figure it out. Get a few guys to help you lift it or something. Stop bothering me!” Click. He hung up. I stood there, clutching my phone, listening to the dead air. I felt the blood drain from my face. Make my own arrangements to move it? It was an SUV that weighed over a ton and a half. What did he think I was, the Hulk? I was trembling, not from cold, but from a pure, unadulterated rage. I looked around the empty garage. It was just me and this metal beast squatting on my property, a stark picture of my own helplessness. When the installer called, I had to tell him, my voice trembling, to cancel the job. I didn’t leave. I just stood by my parking spot, staring at the car. I didn’t know what I was going to do. I just couldn’t accept defeat. I felt like a soldier defending a castle, utterly vanquished, making one last, pathetic stand. An hour passed. Then two. Then three. The air in the garage was cold and damp. My body was stiffening. Just as I was about to give up, the elevator doors opened, and Leo emerged, yawning and stretching. He saw me and his face soured, not with guilt, but with the annoyance of having his weekend disturbed. “You’re actually still here? Is it that serious?” he grumbled, fumbling for his keys. “It’s just a damn parking spot. Do you have to make such a big deal out of it? It’s not like you’re the only person in the world with a parking spot.” “A big deal?” I felt like I was on the verge of screaming. “It’s my spot! I paid for it! What gives you the right to use it every day and act like you’re entitled to it?” “Jeez, you’re so uptight,” he said, getting into his car and rolling down the window. He looked at me like I was insane. “We’re colleagues. We’re supposed to help each other out. With an attitude like that, how do you expect to get anywhere in this company?” The engine roared to life. He left me with those words, speeding off and leaving me standing in front of my now-empty spot, his “uptight” echoing in my ears. The smell of the exhaust made me cough, and as I coughed, tears I didn’t know I was holding back began to stream down my face. It wasn’t sadness. It was humiliation. It was the suffocating feeling of a rage with no outlet. I felt like a clown who had thrown a punch with all her might, only to hit a pillow. Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw an older woman with gray hair carrying grocery bags walk past the stairwell entrance. She must have heard our argument, because she paused and looked over at me, her brow furrowed. It was Mrs. Gable, who lived on the floor above me. Our eyes met for a second. Her gaze was a mixture of curiosity and pity. She gave a small shake of her head and continued up the stairs. In that moment, I felt like my complete and utter humiliation had been put on public display.

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