Category: English

For forty-six years, my parents split everything down the middle. They had separate accounts, separate savings. Every single grocery bill was meticulously divided. The day before my father died, he signed over all twenty-five of his properties to his illegitimate son. I expected my mother to scream, to cry, to fight. She did nothing. She just signed the papers, her face a placid mask. When his son and mistress moved into the largest waterfront mansion, my mother even sent them a fruit basket. Three years later, my mom had a massive stroke and was rushed to the hospital. I was frantic, but she just calmly told me to go to the bank. I took her debit card, punched in the PIN, and the moment I saw the balance, my world simply stopped. My mother, propped up against her hospital pillows, just smiled, as serene as a summer cloud. 01 The air in the living room was thick and cold, heavy as iron. Each tick of the old grandfather clock was a hammer blow against my nerves, a dull, grating echo in the silence. My father, Arthur Collins, the man who had gone Dutch with my mother for forty-six years, had taken his last breath yesterday. Today, his lawyer sat on our sofa, a frigid last will and testament resting on his knees. That sofa was twenty years old, its leather surface cracked and peeling, revealing the yellowed foam underneath like a dozen mocking lips. My mother, Helen Collins, sat perched on that worn-out piece of furniture, her spine ramrod straight, her silver hair pinned back immaculately. She wore a plain, faded blouse, her expression as still as a frozen lake. You would think the lawyer was about to announce grocery prices, not deliver the final verdict on her forty-six-year marriage. The lawyer adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses. The lenses caught the gloomy light from the window, hiding his eyes. He cleared his throat and began to read the document in a flat, emotionless monotone. “In accordance with the final wishes of Mr. Arthur Collins, all personal assets, including a total of twenty-five properties located in the city and surrounding suburbs, are to be inherited in their entirety by his son, Mr. Ethan Reed.” Ethan. The illegitimate son, only a few years younger than me. The one my father always called his “true heir.” Blood rushed to my head, a roar filling my ears as the room began to spin. Twenty-five properties! Every penny my father saved by nickel-and-diming my mother, the entire fortune built on her quiet sacrifice and endless tolerance—it was all going to that bastard who had no right to any of it. “What about us?” My voice was a raw, scraping sound, each word forced through gritted teeth. “What about my mother and me?” The lawyer’s gaze finally lifted from the papers, landing on me with a look of professional pity. “Mr. Collins, taking into account his forty-plus years of marriage to Mrs. Helen Collins, has granted residency rights for this current property to Mrs. Collins and Ms. Claire Collins.” Residency rights. What a generous gift. We were like a pair of aging pets, permitted to keep living in our dingy cage until we died. The ownership, of course, would also belong to that young man, Ethan. Something inside me snapped. Rage, hot as lava, churned in my gut. I felt like I was about to explode. I shot to my feet, ready to flip the coffee table and its stack of deceitful papers. I wanted to shred that damned will. I wanted to throw this so-called lawyer, this accomplice to a lifetime of theft, out of my house. But a cool, thin hand clamped down on my wrist. It was wrinkled, ancient, but the grip was surprisingly strong, a steel trap that snuffed out all my fury. It was my mother. She was still sitting calmly, not even looking at me. Her eyes were fixed on the lawyer as she spoke softly. “Give me the papers.” The lawyer passed them over, along with a pen. I watched, stunned, as my mother—the woman I thought would be more devastated than anyone—took the pen. At the bottom of the document, on the page that reduced her forty-six-year marriage to a footnote, she signed her name with a steady hand. Helen Collins. The letters were neat and elegant, befitting a retired schoolteacher. Not a single tremor. Not a moment’s hesitation. After signing, she pushed the document back toward the lawyer. Her tone was as casual as if she were commenting on the weather. “There you are.” The lawyer picked up the document. As he looked at my mother, his professional pity seemed to morph into genuine awe, mixed with a sliver of disbelief. He stood, gave my mother a slight bow, and left in a hurry, as if afraid the crushing silence of the room might swallow him whole. The moment the door clicked shut, I lost it. “Why?” I screamed at her back, my voice sharp and ragged. “Why did you sign it? Are you happy with this? Forty-six years! You split the cost of a single onion with him! And all you get is the right to keep living here? Are you insane?” I felt like the absurdity of it all was driving me mad. How could she be so calm? What right did she have to be so calm? After being betrayed, abandoned, and humiliated like this, shouldn’t she be weeping, wailing, cursing his name? My mother finally turned around. She looked at me, her usually gentle eyes now as deep and unreadable as a forgotten well. There wasn’t a ripple of emotion in them. All she said was, “What’s the point in fighting?” “He’s gone now.” With that, she turned and walked into the kitchen, leaving me with nothing but the sight of her frail, indifferent back. I froze, a chill spreading through my veins. He’s gone now. Right. He was gone, so everything was set in stone. Nothing could be changed. But I couldn’t accept it. I couldn’t accept her weakness, her passivity, her meek submission. It wasn’t just weakness, it was numbness. It was stupidity! BAM! I kicked the leg of the coffee table, the loud crack echoing through the empty living room. Then I grabbed my jacket and slammed the door behind me. This house, this place that was suffocating me with despair, I couldn’t stand to be in it for one more second. 02 I wandered aimlessly all day, only dragging myself back to that place I was supposed to call “home” after the sky had bled to black. As I approached my building, the roar of a powerful engine shattered the quiet of the old neighborhood. A brand-new black SUV was parked aggressively in front of our shabby apartment entrance, its headlights cutting blindingly through the dark. The driver’s door opened and a young man stepped out, decked out in designer streetwear, his hair slicked back with too much product. It was Ethan. Behind him, a garishly dressed, middle-aged woman dripping in cheap jewelry and a faux fur coat emerged. His mother. They had actually come here. The anger I’d been suppressing all day erupted. I stormed over and blocked their path. “What are you doing here?” I spat, my voice dripping with hostility. Ethan saw me and a smug, condescending smirk spread across his face. “Well, if it isn’t my big sister. Don’t be so hostile. We just came to check on Aunt Helen. We’re all family now, after all.” His mother, the mistress, pulled a thick envelope from her designer knock-off purse and held it out to me with an air of superiority. “Here’s fifty thousand dollars. Arthur left specific instructions before he passed. He said it was compensation for you and your mother. Take it. It should last you a while.” Compensation? Fifty thousand dollars? Were they tipping the help? The insult was so profound it felt like a physical blow. My blood boiled. I stared at the envelope, wishing I could set it on fire with my gaze. Ethan walked past me and started sizing up our rundown building, his tone dripping with disdain. “Jeez, this place is a dump. How could Dad let you live in a place like this? Wait a few days until I move into the waterfront mansion. You should come see it. Now that’s living.” He turned back to me, seeming to savor my humiliation. “Oh, by the way, sis, I just ordered a new sports car. Two million dollars. It’s blue, totally sick. I’ll take you for a spin when it gets here, show you what life is like for Dad’s real son.” Every word was a poisoned dagger straight to my heart. I was shaking with rage. I pointed a trembling finger at them and screamed, “Get out! Take your filthy money and get the hell out of here!” I lunged forward to shove them, to physically expel their disgusting presence from my sight. “Claire, stop.” A calm voice came from behind me. My mother had appeared in the shadows of the building’s entrance, a silent silhouette. She walked forward and, to my utter horror, took the envelope of cash from the mistress’s hand. My heart sank into a black abyss. Not only did she take it, but she offered the pair a smile that could almost be described as pleasant. “Thank you for coming to see me. Please, feel free to visit again sometime.” My mind went blank. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, what I was hearing. Was this my mother? Was this the woman whose husband and life’s fortune had been stolen from her? Had her spine been surgically removed? Had a dog eaten her dignity? Ethan and his mother were clearly surprised by how easy it was. They exchanged a look, their eyes shining with triumph and contempt. They offered a few more hollow condolences, then climbed back into their car, satisfied. The engine roared to life, and they sped away, leaving a cloud of exhaust in their wake. I stood frozen until the car was completely out of sight. Then, I found my voice. I spun around to face my mother, feeling like a cornered animal. “Why did you take their money? Why did you smile at them? Did you know about all this? Do you just not care? Do you have any pride left at all?” My voice, echoing in the empty stairwell, was laced with tears and utter despair. My mother didn’t look at me. She just clutched the envelope and silently started walking up the stairs. I followed her, watching as she unlocked the door and stepped into the dark apartment. She didn’t turn on the lights. She walked straight to the dining table and began clearing away the dishes from the night before. It was from the last meal we’d eaten on the day my father died. The leftovers had congealed in the plates. She just cleared them in silence, plate by plate, bowl by bowl, her movements slow and mechanical, as if my furious questions, my screams, my pain, were nothing but empty air. In that moment, all my energy, all my fight, just evaporated. I stared at her stubborn, silent back, and a wave of disappointment so profound it felt like drowning washed over me. There was a chasm between us, a gap too wide to cross. I couldn’t understand her. I couldn’t reach her. We were living under the same roof, but we were worlds apart. 03 In the days that followed, my mother and I descended into a cold war. The humiliation, however, was far from over. A few days later, a gold-embossed invitation was shoved through our mail slot. Ethan was hosting a housewarming party at the grand waterfront mansion my father had left him. Our names, mine and my mother’s, were printed in gleaming script. It was a blatant provocation, a deliberate act of rubbing our faces in the dirt. I snatched the invitation and, right in front of my mother, ripped it into tiny pieces. The confetti-like scraps fluttered down, settling in the icy air between us. “I would rather die than go,” I bit out, each word sharp with hate. My mother merely glanced at the paper littering the floor, said nothing, and went back to polishing her precious porcelain tea set. I thought that was the end of it. I thought, this time, she would finally be on my side. I was wrong. The day of the party was a Saturday. I locked myself in my room, trying to drown out the world with loud music and old books. In the afternoon, I heard rustling sounds from the living room. I cracked my door open just a sliver, and the sight that greeted me felt like a bolt of lightning to the chest. My mother had changed into a clean, dark coat. In her hand, she held a fruit basket, exquisitely wrapped in cellophane. The fruit inside was plump and glossy, clearly expensive. It was obvious where she was going. I burst out of my room and stood in front of her, my eyes wide with disbelief. “Where are you going?” She looked at me calmly, as if she were stating the most normal thing in the world. “To congratulate your brother.” Brother? The word was like two red-hot needles driven into my ears, piercing my heart. My world, in that instant, completely fell apart. All my anger, my pain, my confusion—it all came crashing down, shattering the last of my composure. I screamed at her, my voice raw and hysterical. “Have you no dignity? Have you no shame? He is not my brother! He’s a bastard, a thief who stole everything from us! And you’re going to congratulate him with a fruit basket? Are you trying to tell the whole world that you deserved this?” My voice trembled as tears streamed down my face. I wasn’t crying for the lost money. I was crying for my mother’s numb, self-deprecating spirit. It was heartbreaking. It was hopeless. My mother stared at me. This time, her eyes weren’t a placid, bottomless well. Something was churning in their depths, an emotion I couldn’t decipher—complex, dark, like a storm over a sunless sea. There was pain, conflict, and a flicker of… finality. She didn’t explain. She just gave me one last, deep look, then moved past me and opened the door. Click. The door shut. And with it, the last shred of hope I had for her. I collapsed onto the floor, every ounce of strength gone from my body. It was over. My mother, my only family, had completely lost her mind. I sat on the cold floor for a long time, until my limbs went numb. My phone buzzed. It was a friend of mine who worked in media. Her voice was cautious, laced with pity. “Claire, are you okay? I… I’m at Ethan’s housewarming party. I just saw your mom.” My heart seized. “How… how is she?” My friend sighed, her voice full of frustration. “Listen, don’t get mad, but Ethan and his mother are absolute trash. They sat your mom at a table in the farthest corner with a bunch of distant relatives nobody knows. During dinner, Ethan’s mom walked around with a wine glass, telling everyone how ‘understanding’ and ‘magnanimous’ your mother is. The way she said it, she might as well have called her an idiot to her face.” “Someone even asked your mom how she felt about Arthur leaving everything to his son, and why she didn’t fight it. Your mom just smiled and said, ‘It’s for the best.’” “Claire, people are whispering. They’re saying your mom is…” My friend trailed off, but I knew what she was going to say. That my mom was a spineless doormat. That she was a weakling. That she was the biggest fool in the world. My head swam, and my vision blurred. I hung up the phone, unable to listen to another word. My heart was dead. I couldn’t stay in this house, this place filled with nothing but shame and painful memories. I scrambled to my feet, ran into my room, and started throwing clothes into a suitcase. I had to get out of here. I had to get as far away as possible. I never wanted to see my mother’s numb face again. I never wanted to be a part of this pathetic story. Out of sight, out of mind. 04 I moved out and didn’t look back for three years. For three years, I was an ostrich with its head buried in the sand. I worked relentlessly, pouring all my energy into my career, trying to use the crushing workload to numb the pain and forget the past. My mother and I barely spoke. She would call occasionally, asking if I was doing okay, if I had enough money. Our conversations were always short and polite, like two distant relatives making a perfunctory check-in. I tried not to think about her life, but I’d still hear things through the grapevine. I heard that Ethan, after getting his hands on those twenty-five properties, went completely off the rails. He sold off a few of the best-located, easiest-to-liquidate apartments and blew the money on gambling, women, and lavish parties. He and his mother became a running joke in high society circles—the classic overnight millionaires with no class, a pair of adult children with too much money. Hearing this brought me no satisfaction, only a dull, lingering sadness. Sometimes, late at night, I would think of my mother. I’d picture her alone in that old house, her face a mask of unsettling calm. But then the image of her carrying that fruit basket to the party would flash in my mind, and the old anger would flare up again. I couldn’t forgive her for not fighting back. I hated her weakness, which had made both of us the butt of everyone’s jokes. Time drifted by in this haze of resentment and distance. I figured this was how it would always be between us, a cold silence that would last until one of us died. But tragedy, as it turns out, doesn’t wait for an invitation. One afternoon, I was in the middle of a critical project meeting at work. My phone, set to silent, was vibrating nonstop on the table. Annoyed, I declined the call, but the person immediately called back. And again. It was an unknown number. A strange sense of dread washed over me. I excused myself from the meeting and stepped into the hallway to answer. “Hello, am I speaking with Ms. Claire Collins, daughter of Mrs. Helen Collins?”

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1 I had just returned to the country when I ran into my father and brother at the cemetery. It was the first time I’d seen them in ten years. They were there to visit the grave of my stepsister Melody’s dog. I was there to leave flowers for my mother, who had been dead for just as long. My father saw me, glanced behind me, and then sighed. “Here to visit your grandfather’s grave? Where’s your mother? It’s been ten years. Is she still angry?” The word ‘mother’ was a blade in my heart. My hands clenched into fists, and a hot sting filled my eyes. But I remembered what she’d told me before she died. I tilted my chin up, my voice flat. “No.” My brother, standing beside him, let out a cold snort. “Not angry? Then why haven’t you come home? Do you have any idea how much time and energy Dad and I have wasted looking for you all these years?” I glanced at the collection of pet toys and supplies in their hands. A sharp, familiar pain throbbed in my calf. “I’m sorry,” I said coolly, “I have things to do. I don’t have time for idle chat.” My brother’s temper flared. “That’s enough, Elara! When are you going to stop being so childish? Are you going to disown your own family now?” Family? The family they spoke of was something my mother and I had stopped needing a decade ago. … “Elara, what happened back then… it wasn’t what you think…” The color drained from my father’s face. He reached out as if to touch my hair, but I subtly stepped back. His hand hung awkwardly in the air. A strange emotion flickered in his eyes as he looked at me. Noticing my gaze on the pet supplies he was holding, he gave a strained smile. “You know how much Melody missed that dog. She was worried he wouldn’t be comfortable… on the other side. So I just…” My expression remained blank. I looked away, said nothing, and started limping past them up the cemetery path. My father’s body stiffened when he saw my leg, his eyes instantly reddening. “Your leg…” “It’s nothing.” I cut him off, unwilling to continue the conversation. But my cold, distant attitude infuriated my brother, Bobby. He moved to block my path, grabbing my arm. “I said, that’s enough, Elara! Don’t you know that because you and Mom left, the Thorne family became the laughingstock of our social circle?” “If it weren’t for Melody being so exceptional, we would have lost our place in Seacliff City’s high society years ago!” My father tugged on my brother’s sleeve. “Bobby, that’s enough,” he said, his voice firm. “This is your sister. Control your temper.” Bobby glared at me, his face dark with resentment. My father fell back into his old habit of making excuses. “Elara, your brother doesn’t mean any harm. He just misses you and your mother so much. Please, come home. We’re family, after all.” He nudged Bobby again. Bobby shot a look at me, then at our father, and finally turned his head away, his voice stubborn. “If you and Mom come back together, you’ll still be my sister. We can still be a family.” Family? A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Ten years ago, I might have yearned for that word. Now, it was just dust, buried along with my mother in the cold earth. “There’s no need. Please, let me pass.” I didn’t want to say more. I moved to walk around them again. Bobby’s enraged voice followed me. “Elara, stop right there! Do you have to be so petty?” “If you hadn’t been the one to get Melody’s dog killed, Dad and I wouldn’t have been in such a difficult position back then…” I froze. My feet didn’t move, but the deep, concave scar on my calf began to ache with a phantom pain. It was from ten years ago, from the teeth of the dog Melody owned. That year, the vicious animal had torn into my leg, leaving me bleeding profusely. My wonderful father and brother were only concerned with comforting a crying Melody. I was left lying in a pool of my own blood until a neighbor finally found me and took me to the hospital. When I woke up, a chunk of flesh was missing from my calf. I’ve walked with a limp ever since. Shaking off the memory, I looked down at my throbbing leg. The pain was nothing compared to what it had been a decade ago. Just as my desperate craving for their love was nothing now. It was all meaningless. Ignoring his outburst, I dragged myself forward. But he was relentless, chasing after me. “Elara, what is your problem? Dad and I are practically begging you. What more do you want?” Before I could answer, a figure stepped in front of me. I looked up. It was Clara, my senior from the academy. “Don’t you dare raise your voice at Elara! She has nothing to do with you anymore,” she snapped. “And for the record, the pet cemetery is over there. If you’re here to mourn your precious mutt, you’re in the wrong section. Stop your yapping here.” Her words hit Bobby like a slap. His face went pale with rage. “Who the hell are you? This is a conversation between me and my sister. Stay out of it.” Clara scoffed, her gaze shifting to my father, who had been silent in the background. Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “Who am I? I’m the one telling you to get the hell away from her. I won’t say it again. Get lost.” She swung the tote bag she was carrying, and it hit the ground with a thud. Its contents spilled out—a pile of old letters, and a faded photograph. The moment I saw that photo, my eyes blurred with tears. It was a portrait of my mother. Even faded, you could still see the breathtaking beauty that had once captivated a city. Twenty years ago, she was Sophie St. Claire, the toast of Seacliff City’s high society, adored by all. But of all her suitors, she chose my father, a man with nothing to his name. To marry him, she cut ties with her own family, sold all her jewelry, and gave him her entire dowry to start his business. The shock and grief of her defiance sent my grandfather to an early grave, and my mother became an outcast in her own family. But her sacrifice paid off. My father’s business succeeded, launching him into the city’s elite. She became the woman everyone envied. After my brother and I were born, his career soared. I was his little princess, spoiled and adored. I thought that happiness would last forever. Until my tenth birthday. My father promised he’d be there, but he never showed up. The next day, he walked in with a mud-streaked woman named Sienna and her daughter, Melody. He said they were destitute, with nowhere to go, and that he’d hired Sienna as a housekeeper. My mother, with her soft heart, took them in and cared for them. But within a month, Sienna had crawled into my father’s bed. The day my mother caught them, there was a terrible fight. In a fit of rage, my father officially adopted Melody. My mother tried to leave with Bobby and me, but my brother pulled his hand away. “Mom, stop making a scene!” he yelled. “Aunt Sienna is Dad’s childhood sweetheart! If it wasn’t for you, they would have been together a long time ago. Can’t you just look the other way?” That was the first time we understood the truth about Sienna. From that day on, the smiles vanished from my mother’s face. Our home became a war zone. If there was ever a new toy or a fresh piece of fruit, it went straight to Melody. My father, who once spent a fortune on a sapphire just to see my mother smile, now abandoned important meetings to rent out an entire amusement park for Sienna and Melody. To help Melody fit in, my father enrolled her in my prestigious private school and made a massive donation. Instantly, she was surrounded by a crowd of admirers. She used the opportunity to spread rumors that I had stolen her rightful place as the Thorne family heiress, and that my mother was a homewrecker. Overnight, I went from being cherished to being cornered in the girls’ bathroom. Melody and a group of boys poured buckets of filthy water over my head and threw rotting garbage at me. “This is what a little bitch like you deserves, Elara!” she sneered, grinding her heel into my schoolbag. “Listen to me,” she spat. “Dad is mine. Bobby is mine. This house is mine! You and your shameless mother can get the hell out!” The cold, stinking water dripped through my hair, but the chill in my heart was far worse. My father, who once treasured me, now only had eyes for Melody. My brother, who once protected me, ignored my pain. My mother cried herself to sleep every night, the light in her eyes dimming day by day. I had fallen from the clouds into the mud, and it was all because of his betrayal. His cruelty, my brother’s blindness, and the venom of Sienna and Melody were knives twisting in my mother’s heart and mine. But the final blow was yet to come. On the day of the national ballet competition preliminaries—a competition I had fought tooth and nail to qualify for—my father pulled me into his study. He demanded I give my spot to Melody. Ballet was my dream. I had practiced relentlessly for eight years. I refused. His face contorted with anger. “Elara, you’re the older sister! Why can’t you just let Melody have it?” The blood froze in my veins. “Let her have it?” I cried, tears streaming down my face. “How much more do I have to give up? You know what this competition means to me! Why do you always choose her?” He faltered, a flicker of guilt in his eyes. “Elara…” He started to reach for me, but Melody burst into the room. She was wearing the beautiful, custom-made tutu my mother had spent a week sewing for me. Something inside me snapped. I lunged at her, trying to rip the dress off, but my father pulled her behind him and slapped me across the face. “I’m sorry, sister, I didn’t mean to…” Melody whimpered. “I was just so envious… I know I don’t deserve it. I’ll take it off right now…” My father wrapped his arms around her, cooing softly, his eyes burning with fury as he looked back at me. “What has gotten into you, Elara? You are a Thorne. Don’t act like a hysterical shrew, just like your mother!” A shrew. The kind, gentle father I once knew had become a monster. The home I had so desperately tried to hold together was crumbling. I stood there, a numb, broken puppet, until my mother appeared. “My sweet Elara,” she whispered, her voice pulling me back from the edge. “You’ve been hurt…” She held me, her body trembling with a mixture of sorrow and rage. She helped me to my room, and once I had calmed down, she marched back downstairs. I heard the loudest, most painful argument of their lives. Each shout was laced with heart-wrenching despair. That night, my mother came back with red-rimmed eyes, packed our bags, and took me to a hotel. When I woke up the next morning, she was lying on the floor. A river of blood flowed from her wrist, staining the carpet a deep, terrifying crimson. Her face was as white as a sheet. “Mom! Mom!” I screamed, grabbing her icy arm. “Please, Mom, don’t scare me!” I scrambled out of the room, shrieking into the hallway. “Help! Somebody help my mom!” They got her to the hospital in time, but I had no money. Trembling, I called my father. The moment he answered, I begged him through my tears. “Dad, please, you have to save Mom! She’s… she’s dying…” I could hear soft, intimate sounds on his end, and then Sienna’s syrupy laugh. Fighting back nausea, I pleaded again. “Dad, please, she’s really not going to make it…” The line went dead. Desperate, I called my brother. The first thing I heard was Melody’s sobbing, followed by Bobby’s roar of fury. “That’s it, Elara! You bully Melody behind our backs all the time, but today you took it too far! I haven’t even dealt with you for that, and now you’re calling me with more of your pathetic lies?” “Aunt Sienna was right. You and Mom are just spoiled tyrants. If I ever see you hurting Melody again, don’t blame me for disowning you as my sister!” “Bobby, please, Mom is…” The dial tone pierced my ear. I collapsed onto a bench in the hospital corridor, a profound cold seeping into my bones. To save my mother, I did the only thing I could think of. I knelt in the emergency room and begged the doctors, slamming my forehead against the cold floor over and over until it was swollen and bleeding. Finally, they agreed to help. Later, a doctor pulled me aside. “Young lady, your mother’s health is failing. Years of exhaustion and emotional distress… she doesn’t have much time.” It was then I learned that when my father started his business, my mother had worked day and night at odd jobs to support us, destroying her own health in the process. But I was too young to understand what “not much time” meant. Until the day she collapsed again. She held my hand, her voice a feather-light whisper. “Elara, don’t hate your father and brother. Just live a happy life. Dance your ballet.” Her breath hitched. “Burn everything of mine. The photos, the clothes… all of it. So you can live on, with nothing tying you down.” Then, her hand went limp. But I still believed I could save her. In the middle of a torrential downpour, I ran back to the Thorne villa. I rang the bell for what felt like an eternity before the door finally opened. It was Melody. She was wearing my favorite Elsa dress. “Look what the storm dragged in,” she sneered. “This look suits you. Perfect. A new toy for my dog.” She snapped her fingers. A massive dog lunged at me, its teeth sinking deep into my calf. I screamed as blood poured down my leg, mixing with the rain. But all I could think about was my mother waiting for me. I bit down on the dog’s neck with all my might. It yelped and collapsed. Just then, my father and brother returned. Melody’s face instantly crumpled into tears as she ran to our father. “Daddy! Bobby! Elara is terrifying! She just killed our dog!” My father’s eyes were filled with disgust. “You wretched girl! You dare come back here and cause more trouble?” “Throw her out,” Bobby said coldly. “And don’t ever let her set foot in this house again.” They didn’t ask about the blood soaking my clothes or the gash in my leg. They were my mother’s last hope. I crawled toward them, my hand outstretched, about to grab my father’s pant leg. “Aah! Don’t come near me!” Melody shrieked. “She’s a monster!” Instantly, they shielded her, and Bobby ordered the staff to throw me out. I looked at them protecting her, then at my bleeding leg, and the last flicker of hope died. As the servants dragged me away, the great doors of the villa slammed shut, severing the final tie between me and that house. From that day forward, the Thorne family and I were finished. “Give me that picture! You don’t deserve to touch it!” Clara’s shout pulled me back to the present. I looked up just in time to see Bobby wrestling with her over my mother’s faded portrait. With a sickening rip, the photo tore in two. As Bobby lunged again, his foot kicked the pile of letters on the ground. He bent down, picked one up, and tore it open. As he read, his expression froze. “Dad! Look at this!” He thrust the letter at our father. My father glanced at it dismissively, but as his eyes scanned the page, his face went deathly pale.

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After being reborn, I decided to become everything Jason hates. He likes girls with long hair; he likes women who are gentle and demure. So, I chopped off my waist-length hair. I went surfing, skiing, and partied all night with my friends. In my past life, I only found out after we got married that he had always been in love with his adopted sister, Felicity. His mother threatened suicide to keep them apart, so he married me as a compromise. Why? Because I looked a little like her. After the wedding, he was cold to me, constantly entangled with Felicity. I cried, I fought, and in the end, on my way to ask for a divorce, I died in a car crash, full of regret. In this life, my friend asked me, confused: “Are you doing all this to get Jason’s attention?” “No,” I said. “I’m doing this to get away from him.” 1 My best friend, Lily, was celebrating her birthday. She invited me to the party. When I walked into the private room, the place was buzzing. No one paid attention to me. Until I walked up to Lily. “Whoa, Gwen! You cut your hair?!” Lily has no inside voice. Her shout made everyone turn their heads. The room went silent. Everyone’s eyes landed on my new bob cut. Their expressions were… complicated. I pretended not to notice. I smiled. “Yeah, just got it cut. The stylist said it suits me. Does it look okay?” “It looks good.” “Yeah, very nice.” A few scattered compliments. But while they said the words, their eyes drifted nervously in one direction. “I don’t think it looks good at all.” The blunt criticism cut through the polite murmurs. In that direction, Felicity covered her mouth, looking like she’d made a mistake. She looked “regretful.” “Oops, sorry Gwen. I just blurted out what I was thinking. You know I’m just straightforward like that. You won’t be mad, right?” Before I could say anything, Jason stood up. He looked right at me and repeated it. “Yeah. It doesn’t look good at all.” He defended her immediately. The atmosphere got awkward fast. I shrugged, unbothered. “It doesn’t matter. I like it.” 2 Jason called me outside. We stood facing each other in the hallway. The dim lighting cast shadows over his handsome face, but I could feel the anger simmering beneath the surface. “Gwen, who told you to cut your hair? Didn’t I say I like long hair on girls? As my girlfriend, you…” “Jason.” I cut him off. “Let’s break up.” The air froze for a second. He frowned, about to speak. Inside the room, the sound of Felicity and Lily arguing erupted. Jason’s frown deepened. He scoffed, tossed a careless “Suit yourself” over his shoulder, and rushed back inside. I watched his retreating back and let out a long breath. 3 I met Jason in high school. Freshman year, I broke my leg dancing and had to use crutches. Because of that, I got bullied a lot. They called me “Cripple.” They tripped me on purpose. Once, some kids stole my homework. I couldn’t chase them, and I was crying out of frustration when I met Jason. Sometimes, you fall for someone in a single moment. Jason not only helped me, but he also protected me for three years. Even after my leg healed, following him became a habit. Everyone knew I liked him. He casually mentioned he liked girls with long hair, so I grew mine out. He said girls should be “gentle and quiet,” so I quit the dance team. I stopped skiing. I stopped surfing. I gave up my friends, my hobbies, and carved myself into a shape he liked until I was unrecognizable. My efforts paid off. We started dating. He even took me to meet his family. His family had an adopted daughter named Felicity. When I met her, she clung to Jason’s arm intimately. “Gwen is so pretty. You’re lucky, big bro. Hee hee, Gwen and I actually look a bit alike.” A casual remark, laced with hidden hostility. I didn’t think much of it then. I didn’t notice Jason stiffen for a second. In my past life, I married Jason. But after the wedding, he was always cold. Until Felicity sent me a video of them together. In the video, they were doing things only a husband and wife should do. Felicity’s taunting words were like a knife to my heart. “If Mom hadn’t stopped us, I would be Mrs. Sterling!” “You think marrying him means you won? Hardly. He doesn’t love you. You’re just a replacement for me!” Shocked and furious, I coughed up blood. I grabbed my documents and drove to find Jason to demand a divorce. But I crashed on the way. I died in agony. I never expected to open my eyes again. Reborn. Back to when we first got into college. This time, I tried hard to become everything Jason hated. That unrecognizable replacement? I quit. 4 When I went back into the room, Felicity was crying in Jason’s arms. Jason looked cold. He stared at Lily and said, “Lily, apologize to my sister.” Lily straightened her neck. “Why should I apologize to that pick-me girl?” “She started badmouthing Gwen first. I just called her out. If you want an apology, make her apologize to Gwen first!” Felicity’s eyes were red. She spoke in a small, aggrieved voice. “But I was just telling the truth. Is that wrong…” She looked up, tears shimmering in her eyes. She looked like she had suffered the greatest injustice in the world. Lily wasn’t buying it. “Calling you a pick-me and saying you have a foul mouth is also telling the truth. I’m not wrong either!” “Lily! Enough!” Jason shouted. His tall frame stepped forward, imposing and threatening. Lily didn’t back down an inch. Just then, they all saw me. A glint of calculation flashed in Felicity’s eyes. “Gwen, you’re finally back.”

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Julian Thorne, a man who never cared about holidays, unexpectedly ordered me a milk tea on the first day of autumn. But he sent it to my old workplace. My former colleague called me: “Your husband is quite the romantic, sending reminders to us ex-colleagues even on minor holidays.” “But, how come the famous Lawyer Thorne only got you a one-dollar bubble tea?” I heard a hint of mockery in her teasing tone. Hanging up the phone, I looked at his young assistant’s Instagram post. “Thanks to the boss for transferring 520,000 dollars to me, telling me to buy out the whole milk tea shop.” In the chat screenshot, the profile picture she deliberately forgot to blur out was the cartoon couple avatar he had suddenly changed to a few days ago. My ex-colleague deliberately mailed that cup of milk tea to me via same-city express. Holding the half-finished, sticky milk tea, I thought about our marriage. A pity to throw away, but uncomfortable to hold. 1 Holding this half-cup of milk tea that I didn’t know whether to toss or drink, I arrived at Julian Thorne’s law firm. Pushing open the office door, the laughter inside stopped abruptly. Fiona Hill’s hand hurriedly retracted from his waist. The doting smile on his face vanished, replaced by a slight frown. Fiona passed by me, giving me an unnatural smile: “Mrs. Thorne, you chat with Mr. Thorne. I’ll get back to work!” I stopped her. “Please return the 520,000 dollars you received. That is the joint property of my husband and me.” “You’re a young girl; you wouldn’t want people calling you a mistress, right?” Fiona’s eyes reddened as she looked back at Julian aggrievedly. Julian’s face darkened, and he pulled me over. “You open your mouth and try to ruin a young girl’s reputation?” “She’s been working hard lately. This is a reward from the firm.” Looking at his anxious defense, he seemed to have forgotten. A few days ago, when I was helping him negotiate a partnership with a client, the client’s wife rushed in, splashed coffee all over me, and cursed me out. He only advised me lightly to endure it for the sake of the firm. I shook off his hand and looked straight at him. “Is it a reward from the firm or… a personal reward from you?” “If it’s a firm reward, please go through the company account.” “At least finance should check if they want to sign off on this.” He, an eloquent lawyer, was speechless at this moment. I wished he would argue and explain to me. Even like when the firm was first established. He hugged me tightly from behind and promised: “Honey, a mysterious investor took a fancy to my talent and injected capital into the firm.” “From now on, you manage the accounts for both home and the firm. I want to be a henpecked husband who asks you for money.” But now he just stood there with a cold face, and there was even a trace of imperceptible disgust in his eyes. Fiona bit her lip lightly and took out her phone helplessly. “Mrs. Thorne, please don’t misunderstand. Mr. Thorne just takes care of me because I’m young.” “I’ll return the money right away!” Watching Fiona finish the operation and run out wiping tears. Julian looked at me coldly. “Are you satisfied now?” “Sarah, bullying a young girl with the title of Mrs. Thorne, you’re really capable.” “Do you need that 520,000 dollars so badly?” It wasn’t the first time I heard such a mocking tone. Last time, he lent my car to Fiona without saying hello. When I found out, he had the same demeanor. “Is it necessary to be so petty?” “It’s just sitting there anyway.” “Letting Fiona drive it for a few days can even help maintain it for you.” His charitable tone made it seem like I should thank his little assistant. 2 At the time, I wanted to ask him if he, as a husband, was also “just sitting there” and needed to be lent to her too? But I held back. I placed the half-cup of milk tea on his desk. My eyes were moist. “Julian, let’s get a divorce!” His eyes flickered slightly, unable to control his anger anymore. “Just because I transferred 520,000 dollars to Fiona as a reward?” “Sarah, can you stop being unreasonable?” “I’m getting busy. If you have nothing to do, you might as well go home and figure out how to give the Thorne family a son.” Watching him impatiently issue the eviction order. My heart stung painfully. Seven years ago, just graduated from college, I was pregnant with his child. After his business failed, he hugged me and choked up: “I want to keep him too.” “But Sarah, I can’t even afford an abortion now. How can I afford to raise a child?” Waking up from the surgery, I cried bitterly, hurting my body fundamentally. He knew all this; he clearly knew! I held back the tears that were about to burst out and spoke stubbornly: “Why don’t you check where you sent the milk tea you ordered for me?” He took out his phone doubtfully, then snorted coldly. “Isn’t it just forgetting to change the address?” “You used to say I wasn’t romantic. Now that I am romantic for once, you’re finding fault.” “When did you become so dramatic?” He dismissed me perfunctorily as usual. “Alright, alright, I’ll have dinner with you tonight, okay?” Watching him sit at his desk, too lazy to even lift his head. He had long forgotten the resignation letter he mailed to my former workplace for me. Also forgotten how he proudly called me. His voice loud and clear, penetrating the entire office area. “Sarah, my law firm is taking shape. I can finally boldly say I’ll support you.” “I want those snobbish colleagues who usually look down on you to be envious and jealous.” But I didn’t expect that the second time he used this address, it would only bring me humiliation. I knew it was useless to say more and left silently. Turning around at the door, I saw him disgustedly throw that half-cup of milk tea into the trash can. Before I even walked home, Julian’s message came. “Have a social engagement tonight.” Prepared in my heart, I still felt a sense of loss and sadness. Since he recruited Fiona, the little assistant. Late returns and broken promises had become common. I had complained. He retorted impatiently. “I have to work and train newcomers.” “I’m tired. Can’t you understand me?” “Do you think everyone is like you, doing nothing all day, watching TV, and shopping?” Before I could put away my phone. Fiona’s provocative message also came in. “Sarah, why check my Moments sneakily?” “After you left, Mr. Thorne bought me a diamond necklace to apologize. The price is also 520,000 dollars.” Looking at the photo she sent. It was actually the one I took a fancy to when Julian invited me to the mall a few days ago, which was rare. When I wanted to buy it, he refused me. “You stay at home all day. Who are you wearing it for?” Only now did I know he just treated me as a female who could give him advice. I covered my breathless chest and quickly took a screenshot. Just after I finished screenshotting, she recalled all the messages. After getting home, I lay on the bed in a daze, groggily answering the phone that kept ringing. A low and deep voice came into my ears. “You asked a former suitor to handle your divorce case?” “Sarah, you’re really something.” Recognizing it was Caden Sterling, I remembered. Before going to Julian’s law firm, I contacted him first. 3 Unable to respond to him, I whimpered in discomfort, cold sweat soaking the sheets. The voice on the phone became urgent and angry. “Sarah, are you sick?” “Where is Julian?” “Don’t hang up, wait for me.” I had a fever. I only knew there was someone by my side silently and carefully taking care of me. A tear inexplicably spilled from the corner of my eye. Julian still cared about me. I slept peacefully until dawn. Thinking of the gentle and careful care last night, the suppressed corners of my mouth rose slightly. Walking to the living room, I stood frozen there. Julian was thoughtfully covering Fiona, who was lying on the sofa, with a blanket. He lowered his head, staring obsessively at her luscious lips. At the moment he was about to touch them, he pulled away in a panic. Turning his head to see me, he explained somewhat unnaturally. “Fiona got drunk accompanying me to a social event last night. I could only bring her back.” After speaking, he urged me continuously. “Aren’t you best at making hangover soup? Go make a bowl now.” Hangover soup? That was the recipe I shamelessly asked Caden for, just because I was worried about his health. I clenched my fists tight. Nails digging into my flesh, feeling nothing. He urged impatiently again. “What are you standing there for? Hurry up and make it!” I looked at him trembling and spoke. “Julian, how can you take care of two women in one night?” He was slightly stunned, looking at me bafflingly. “What two women?” “I just brought Fiona back…” Only then did he see my pale face, walked over and reached out his hand. “You’re sick?” I dodged subconsciously. My mind was in chaos. If it wasn’t him last night, who was it? He withdrew his hand frozen in the air. “Sarah, did you take a cold shower again last night?” “To get my attention, you really have all sorts of tricks.” “Are you still the carefree Sarah from before? Can you stop being so dramatic?” I took an uncontrollable step back, my pale face losing even more color. Seven years ago, he blushed and asked me to be his girlfriend. “Sarah, you know what? You’re like the sun. I feel comfortable and relaxed with you.” Five years ago, he hugged me tightly out of jealousy. “Sarah, can you care about me a little more?” “I can’t stand your indifferent look all day. I am your property.” Three years ago, he coldly left me alone in the hospital. “Sarah, yesterday you had a stomachache, today you have a cold. Tomorrow are you going to say you have a terminal illness?” “You’re so old, how come you’re not as understanding as Fiona?” When I loved him more and more. He seemed to love me less! Seemingly unable to see my sadness, he grabbed my wrist hard and pushed me into the kitchen. “Hurry up. Fiona and I have to go to work later.” “Unlike you, like a parasite, doing nothing all day.” The kitchen door was slammed shut with a “bang”. I was isolated inside alone. Like being sealed in an airtight box, the air was thin. My body went limp, and I curled up in a corner. He even forgot I had claustrophobia. Tears could no longer be controlled, flowing like a broken dam. Looking at “Mom” flashing continuously on the phone. I hurriedly wiped away the tears and took a deep breath. “Sarah, your dad has been sued. Hurry up and bring Julian over.” Mom’s anxious voice came from the phone. I stumbled open the kitchen door and ran out. But the empty living room was already devoid of anyone. 4 I called Julian. He answered after a long time. “Making a hangover soup is like killing you.” “Fiona was woken up by you. I’m taking her to get some breakfast now. Stop causing trouble.” Before I could speak, he hung up coldly. I adjusted my emotions and rushed home anxiously. Mom started crying as soon as she saw me. “Sarah, your dad just scratched his leg on the bus, and the girl sitting opposite him accused him of sexual harassment.” “How old is your dad? How can he bear such a stigma?” “But with Julian, a big lawyer, here, we must actively respond to the lawsuit. We are not afraid.” Perhaps he also received Mom’s call. Julian arrived in a hurry. Like a qualified son-in-law, he methodically comforted Mom. Watching his steadiness and composure, I seemed to see a pillar of support. When the court session opened, I held Mom’s hand tightly. Looking in disbelief as he held Fiona’s hand and actually walked to the plaintiff’s seat. He looked at me righteously. “I won’t bend the law for personal relationships. As a lawyer, I will definitely stand on the side of justice.” “If your dad made a mistake, he should be punished as he deserves.” I didn’t expect that the girl suing my father was actually Fiona. Because Fiona was defended by him, the best lawyer in North City, we lost the first trial. Walking out of the court. Reporters crowded the entrance, attacking my father with the most vicious language. “So old and still disrespectful?” “It’s not that the old turn bad, but the bad grow old.” “You have a daughter too. Do you have dirty thoughts about your own daughter?” Onlookers pointed at our family even more. “Looking decent and kind, how could he do such obscene things?” “The girl is kind-hearted, only asking him to kneel and apologize. That’s already saving him face.” “In my opinion, he should be locked up and drop the soap in prison.” Someone even ran up to my father and spat on his face. My father, a university professor, couldn’t bear it and spat out a mouthful of blood. I supported my father’s crumbling body. Julian walked past us expressionlessly. He just snorted coldly. “A family of drama queens.” Then he left heartlessly. Fiona walked over slowly from behind him, leaning close to me. “Sarah, how can an incompetent housewife like you still have the face to cling to Mr. Thorne and suck his blood?” “This is just a small lesson. I hope you can take the initiative to divorce Mr. Thorne.” “Besides…” She raised the corner of her mouth: “I’m pregnant. It’s Julian’s.” After speaking, she proudly got into the passenger seat that used to belong to me. “Before the case is completely over, I don’t mind bringing the Sterling legal team to sue you reporters for defamation and completely ban you from this industry.” “Including you passersby who insult others without knowing the situation, I will settle accounts one by one.” When I was in despair, a stern warning sounded. Immediately, those reporters were silent as cicadas in winter. The crowd also dispersed muttering. With hazy eyes, I looked up. It was Caden. Julian just walked into the company. A subordinate pulled a cart piled with mail as tall as a person, running in panic. “Mr. Thorne, bad news. The firm received a huge pile of lawsuit documents.” He sat proudly in his chair. “This is a good thing. It proves our firm’s business is increasing and we are about to soar in North City.” Fiona excitedly helped move those documents down. The subordinate spoke carefully: “But Mr. Thorne…” “These documents are all suing you and Assistant Hill.”

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1 At the company dinner, everyone got to order a dish. When it was my turn, the new intern, Sienna, snatched the menu from my hand. “We have enough food. No more ordering.” I ignored her and turned to the waiter. “I’d like an order of the sweet ricotta fritters.” Sienna slammed the menu onto my face, her eyes blazing with fury. “I said no more ordering. Who do you think you are?” The hard edge of the menu left a stinging red line across my cheek. A fire ignited in my chest, mirroring the pain on my face. I snatched the menu and threw it right back at her. She shrieked. “Do you have any idea who I am? My father is Brett Croft, the CEO of our biggest client! Even our own boss has to treat me with respect. How dare you lay a hand on me? Believe it or not, I can have your Sales Champion title revoked and get you blacklisted from the entire industry!” I stared at her, my face a perfect meme of utter confusion. My own uncle, Brett Croft, a confirmed bachelor for forty years… since when did he have a daughter this old? Seeing my stunned silence, Sienna grew even more arrogant. “What, scared now? A gold digger like you who sleeps her way to the top… we’re lucky the air isn’t polluted just by you being here. And you think you have the right to order food?” Sleeps her way to the top? I worked my fingers to the bone, pulling all-nighters to perfect my proposals. I spent eight hours a day eating dust on construction sites, getting so tanned my own mother barely recognized me. And she had the audacity to say I got by on my looks? I pushed my chair back and stood up to face her. “Watch your mouth, Sienna. I earn my results through hard work. My abilities are plain for everyone to see. You have no right to judge me. And this is a company dinner, not your private party. If I don’t have the right to order, then you have even less. No wonder I smelled something foul when I walked in. It was the garbage spewing from your mouth!” A ripple of stifled laughter went through the room. My colleagues had long been fed up with Sienna’s arrogance. In the month she’d been an intern, she’d treated everyone like her personal servant. When a new hire, Tina, refused to get her coffee, Sienna poured the entire scalding cup over Tina’s head, leaving a blister on her scalp. Not only did she refuse to apologize, but she also threatened her. “You dare ask me for an apology? I’ll have you fired!” In the end, the company had to cover Tina’s medical bills. I had wanted to intervene back then, but my colleagues held me back. I couldn’t understand why they were all so afraid to speak up. Now I knew. They were all intimidated by her self-proclaimed title: “Brett Croft’s daughter.” Sienna’s face was crimson with rage. She pointed a trembling finger at me. “Nina! Don’t get cocky. Without my dad’s support, this company would go bankrupt. I’m telling you, I’m in charge at this dinner. If I say you can’t order, you can’t!” She spat, “Who the hell do you think you are? You order one more thing, and I’ll make sure you’re gone by tomorrow!” The waiter looked at me, caught in the middle. “Ma’am, will you still be ordering?” “Yes,” I said without a moment’s hesitation. I refused to back down. I had generated tens of millions in revenue for this company with a single project. I wasn’t even allowed to order one dessert? 2 “What’s all the commotion?” The CEO, Mr. White, pushed the door open, his face a thundercloud. “This is a company dinner, not a wrestling match. What’s going on?” Sienna, seizing the opportunity, put on a pitiful expression and twisted the entire story. Before I could even get a word in, Mr. White’s cold gaze landed on me. “Nina, you’ve been with us for a year. Don’t you know that frugality is a core company value? Sienna was just being considerate of the company’s expenses. Will you starve if you miss one dish? And hitting someone is completely out of line. You will apologize to Sienna immediately and pay her ten thousand dollars for emotional distress. Then we’ll consider this matter closed.” I almost laughed out loud. I looked him straight in the eye. “Mr. White, are you sure you want me to apologize and pay her?” His expression darkened. Tina tugged at my sleeve, whispering, “Nina, don’t be stubborn. Sienna is Brett Croft’s daughter. You can’t afford to cross her. Mr. White is counting on her to close the deal with Apex.” I couldn’t help but scoff. “She says Brett Croft is her father, and you all just believe her? Did she bring her birth certificate to the interview?” Tina pulled out her phone and showed me Sienna’s social media profile. “It’s true. Mr. Croft himself dropped her off on her first day.” I looked at the photo and my jaw nearly hit the floor. There was my handsome, well-dressed uncle, standing in front of a luxury car. And next to him, unbelievably, was Sienna. Sienna had even added a caption: Thanks, Dad, for taking time out of your busy schedule to drop me off for my internship. I won’t let you down. I immediately tried to call my uncle, but the line went straight to a robotic “the user’s phone is switched off” message. Seeing my refusal to apologize, Sienna shot me a malevolent glare. “You’ll regret this, Nina. I’ll make you pay.” The next day, I found out what she meant by “pay.” At the awards ceremony, the Sales Champion title and the five-hundred-thousand-dollar bonus that should have been mine were awarded to Sienna. They hadn’t even had time to change my name on the award speech slide in the presentation. This was blatant robbery. A fire surged in my chest. I immediately stood up and demanded an explanation. “What is the criterion for the Sales Champion award? My project sales this month exceeded one billion, generating over ten million in revenue for the company. I’m five million ahead of the runner-up. Sienna hasn’t closed a single deal. I would like to ask the management, on what grounds are you giving my award to her?” The conference hall fell silent. The heads of finance and sales exchanged nervous glances, neither daring to speak. Sienna looked at me with an arrogant smirk. “Obviously, it’s because your projects were secured through… dishonorable means. The company cannot condone such vile behavior. For now, we’ve only revoked your title. If you continue to damage the company’s reputation with your sordid tactics, you’ll be fired.” I was shaking with anger. My eyes swept across the faces of the management on the stage. The same people who used to praise my skills and call me a rising star were now avoiding my gaze, staring at their shoes like cowards. I turned to the highest authority, Mr. White. “Mr. White, is this your decision as well?” Being called out in public clearly irritated him. He frowned. “Nina, the company has its reasons. Don’t disrupt the awards ceremony over such a small matter. You need to see the bigger picture.” “The bigger picture?” My eyes reddened, my voice trembling. “Is the bigger picture that I work year-round, working overtime late into the night, breaking my back to land projects, only to have them handed over to someone else?” That you’ll erase all my hard work based on a baseless rumor and do nothing? Where is the fairness in that? Where is the justice? Don’t you feel any guilt treating a dedicated employee this way?” Mr. White was speechless. Sienna, however, showed no shame. She lifted her chin, a sneer on her face. “Fairness? Don’t be so naive, Nina. In this world, fairness belongs to those with power. You want justice? Go find a rich daddy to get it for you. Too bad you don’t have one.” She made no effort to hide her contempt. “But I do. My identity as the daughter of Brett Croft, CEO of the Apex Group, is enough to crush you for the rest of your life.” I stared at her, wondering where she got her confidence. I even started to question if my uncle had secretly fathered an illegitimate child. Suddenly, I spoke. “I heard Mr. Croft has a niece whom he adores as if she were his own. I wonder, Miss Sales Champion, have you ever met her?” Sienna’s expression froze for a second, then she shot me a dismissive glance. “That’s my cousin. Of course, I’ve met her. But she’s always been abroad and rarely comes back. Even I hardly see her. A low-life commoner like you could never even dream of meeting her.” I snorted. “Is that so? You’re not a low-life, yet you’re stealing someone else’s award and bonus? Could it be that you’re a fake?” “You!” Sienna’s face turned ashen. She glared at me. “Nina, don’t push it! Your title was revoked because you’re unworthy. I, on the other hand, earned it through my own merit!” “Merit?” I took a step forward, my eyes boring into hers. “You mean the merit of slacking off and playing games all day at work, taking two-hour lunch breaks, and leaving at five on the dot? Or the merit of staring at a computer all day and only managing to type the word ‘proposal’ into a PowerPoint slide?” My words were slow and deliberate, each one a sharp jab at her pride. Her mouth hung open, but no words came out. She looked to Mr. White for help. His face flashed with disappointment before he turned to me, his voice stern. “Nina! Watch your tone! This is a company, not a marketplace. You will not make a scene!” 3 “Don’t think that just because you’ve landed a few projects you can do whatever you want. It’s survival of the fittest. You need to accept that you’ve been replaced by someone better. Stop being unreasonable!” All eyes were on me, waiting to see me make a fool of myself, to watch me burn my bridges with the company over a five-hundred-thousand-dollar bonus. Five hundred thousand? I wouldn’t bat an eye at five million. What I wanted was fairness. I wasn’t angry. I didn’t argue. I just smiled, a bitter, ironic smile. “Alright. I accept. The Sales Champion title should, indeed, go to someone more deserving.” As soon as I got back to my desk, HR sent out two announcements. Employee Nina has been found to be misusing company funds for lavish personal expenses, a serious violation of company policy. Therefore, Nina is hereby stripped of her position as Sales Manager and suspended pending investigation. Intern Sienna has demonstrated great courage in protecting the company’s interests and has shown outstanding performance during her internship, generating significant revenue. She is hereby promoted to a full-time position, assuming the role of Sales Manager and taking over all of Nina’s ongoing projects. Immediately after, Mr. White tagged me in the company group chat. Nina, your extravagance and disregard for company policy are unacceptable. Your bonus for this month is docked. You are to write a ten-thousand-word self-criticism and post it in this group for all other employees to learn from. This was beyond humiliating. They stripped me of my title, docked my pay, made an example of me, and sacrificed me on the altar of their own authority. The group chat fell silent. The entire office was plunged into a dead quiet. All eyes were on me, some filled with pity, some with regret, some with indignation, and some with undisguised glee. The message just sat there, everyone waiting for me to post my humiliating apology. Mr. White tagged me again: Didn’t you see this? I still didn’t reply. He started tagging me repeatedly, like a madman. Tina sent me a private message: Nina, don’t be stubborn. Just give in. Your job is what’s important. I smiled at her, and the smile brought tears to my eyes. My stiff fingers tapped on my phone, my hands trembling as I replied: Message received, sir. I will remember this lesson and will never again be so extravagant as to order a forty-dollar dish. At the next company dinner, I will only drink water. My seemingly apologetic message was like a drop of water in a sizzling pan of oil. On the surface, it was calm, but underneath, it was a clear declaration of an employee’s utter disappointment in their company. I logged out of all my company accounts and began my “suspension” in earnest. Mr. White, citing that I was no longer in a managerial role, moved me to a desk right next to the restrooms. I was forced to endure the pitying and contemptuous glances of my colleagues as they came and went. Sienna sat smugly at my old desk, ordering the department around. But my seat wasn’t so easy to fill. I had personally handled every single one of my projects, from design to execution. I knew every detail. Sienna knew nothing. Within a few days, a dozen clients had complained, demanding that I be put back on their projects or they would cancel their contracts. The company was facing massive penalty fees. Mr. White finally couldn’t take it anymore. He condescended to come to my new desk. “Nina, you were handling these projects. There are some technical issues now. Go and coordinate with the clients. We need to make sure they are satisfied.” I looked up, my expression blank. “Mr. White, I think you have the wrong person. I’m suspended.” He paused, his tone stiff. “You still have to work while you’re suspended. It’s company policy. You’re responsible for your projects from start to finish.” I shrugged. “But I’ve already logged out of all my accounts. I can’t access anything.” His face froze, his eyes filled with rage. “Suspension isn’t termination! Why did you log out? Reapply for access immediately.” I looked at him calmly. “You were the one who said I was no longer in a position of authority. I was just following your orders.” Mr. White was losing face, but he gritted his teeth and tried again. “Alright. You’re reinstated. Now get in touch with the clients and stop them from canceling.” I smiled. “Mr. White, shouldn’t you be asking your ‘more deserving’ Sales Champion to handle this? A gold digger like me who gets by on her looks doesn’t have that kind of ability.” His face turned a deep shade of purple as he struggled to control his anger. “Nina, that was just a joke between colleagues. Are you really taking it seriously?” My smile remained, but it was laced with ice. “Was it also a joke when my title was revoked and I lost a five-hundred-thousand-dollar bonus? Was it a joke when a forty-dollar dish was deemed an act of ‘lavish personal expense’?” Each word was a slap in the face. His face went from red to white to a sickly shade of purple. He was silent. I knew he was wrestling with himself. Admitting he was wrong was not something a big boss like him did. Just then, Sienna ran over, her face beaming. “Mr. White, Apex has agreed to invest!” A triumphant smile spread across Mr. White’s face. “Excellent! Sienna, you’re the company’s lucky star! With Apex backing us, those clients will be begging to work with us.” He turned and shot me a venomous glare. “Nina, you’re fired. Go and pack your things now.” I nodded calmly. “Fine. I demand compensation as stipulated by my contract.” He roared, his face contorted with rage. “Compensation? You’ve caused the company huge losses! You’ll be lucky if we don’t sue you!” Sienna looked at me with pure malice. “Nina, I’ll have you blacklisted from the entire industry.” I just smiled faintly. “I’ll be waiting.”

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My stepbrother is the icy, ruthless villain in a novel. To keep him too busy to commit crimes, I decided to harass him daily with unhinged text messages from an anonymous number: “Baby, you look so good when you don’t wear your shirt properly at the gym. I want a taste.” “Baby, you look so sexy when you sweat. I want every drop to land on me.” “Baby, the way you stare at your phone trying to figure out who I am is so cute. I like you even more now.” My brother was deeply disturbed. Every day, he would come home and lecture me about safety and morality, looking exhausted. Finally, the male and female leads got their happy ending. My mission was complete. I packed my bags overnight, ready to flee the country. But before I could even board the plane, I was snatched. When I opened my eyes, he was slowly, methodically tying my wrists with his silk tie. “If you like Big Brother so much,” he whispered, his voice dark, “why are you trying to leave?” Chapter 1 “Baby, you’re being naughty. Why did you drink the wine someone else handed you?” This was the third time I’d channeled my inner stalker to text my brother. The first few times, he’d read them and ignored them. He didn’t take me seriously at all. Just as I thought this attempt would fail too, he replied. His tone was as stern as ever: “Stop sending me these kinds of messages. I don’t like it.” Good. He didn’t like it. If he liked it, my plan would be ruined. So, facing his displeasure, I typed back: “I don’t care if you like me, Baby. I like you, and that’s enough. ^_^” Julian saw that I was incorrigible and stopped replying. I tapped my screen, wanting to add fuel to the fire, but I heard the front door open. I frantically deleted the chat history and ran to the door, taking his suit jacket like a dutiful sister. “Julian, you’re home early.” Julian rubbed his temples wearily. “Mn.” I looked at the dark circles under his eyes and secretly rejoiced. It was working. He wasn’t sleeping well. I almost laughed out loud. Julian glanced at me, frowning slightly. “What are you smiling at?” I wiped the grin off my face and moved behind him to massage his shoulders. “I’m just happy you’re home early.” He looked at me suspiciously. Before he could ask what trouble I’d caused, I tested the waters. “Julian, you look terrible lately. Are you tired?” Julian, who had been enjoying the massage, stiffened. His expression darkened. The more he avoided it, the more I pressed. “Brother, did something happen?” I asked, feigning concern. Julian stood up abruptly. “Nothing,” he muttered, then hurried upstairs. Watching his retreating back, I smirked. I really was disgusting him. Mission on track. (^_^)V Chapter 2 Julian and I are step-siblings. After my mom married his dad, he never really liked me. He thought I was too loud, too rebellious. I didn’t like him either. He was too disciplined, acting like an old man in a young man’s body. We stayed out of each other’s way, maintaining a polite facade for our parents. Then, his father died in a riot while on a business trip abroad. My mother couldn’t handle the blow; she fell ill and followed him days later. Since then, Julian stopped finding me annoying. No matter what trouble I caused, he would just pat my head and tell me not to be afraid. And I stopped causing trouble just to see his composure crack. Our relationship improved by leaps and bounds. Then, last year, I got really sick. I had a fever so high I saw my life flash before my eyes. I had a series of vivid dreams. In the dreams, Julian was the villain in a novel—cold-blooded and ruthless. He cut the brake lines on the Hero’s car. He hired paparazzi to ruin the Heroine’s reputation. On the day the leads were supposed to get married, he wasn’t idle either. He crashed the wedding and kidnapped the Heroine. In the end, like all villains who talk too much, he died miserably. They didn’t even find his whole body. And as the villain’s sister, I was cannon fodder. My death was merely a plot device to push him into darkness. I woke up and swore I would change our fate. The first thing I did was force Julian to swear he’d be a good person. Chapter 3 But soon, I realized that wouldn’t work. I couldn’t bet my life on a villain’s promise. I ate pounds of walnuts for brain power and finally came up with a new plan. I had to stop Julian from meeting the main characters. I had to nip his villainy in the bud. So, I started reading the Hero’s scandals to Julian every day. I read them while he peeled apples, while he cooked, and even while he was in the shower—I’d squat by the door and shout the gossip through the wood. Julian had high moral standards. If I convinced him the Hero was trash, he’d avoid doing business with him. No business, no meeting, no villain arc. But soon, I realized this wasn’t working either. One day, while Julian was cracking walnuts for me, I read him another scandal. Usually, he ignored me. But this time, he paused. “Are you interested in him?” he asked, turning to look at me. I was in the zone, so I just hummed in agreement. When the sound of cracking walnuts got aggressively loud, I realized my mistake and shook my head frantically. Julian didn’t buy it. “You’ve read over a hundred articles about him to me.” “Yesterday you said he was handsome.” I paused. True. After reading so much gossip, I was the one getting annoyed with the Hero, Ethan. I had started reading with attitude. Yesterday, I slipped and said, “Shame he’s trash, because his face is nice.” Julian only heard the first half. Terrified that he might get interested in Ethan, I clarified immediately. “He’s okay looking, but I have absolutely no—” Interest. Before I could finish, Julian cut me off. “You have an interest? You like him?” A question mark slowly materialized over my head. I’m reading you his blackmailer files, and you think I like him? Seeing I didn’t deny it instantly, Julian pressed his lips into a thin line. After a long silence, he spoke, his voice tight. “It’s normal to have crushes at your age. But based on recent news, his character is questionable. Until I investigate him fully, you are not allowed to contact him.” He spoke fast, like he was afraid I’d interrupt. Then he grabbed his coat and stormed out. By evening, a dossier as thick as a phone book landed in my hands. Chapter 4 I had already investigated Ethan, the Hero, when I first had the dreams. I knew his resume by heart. But the file Julian gave me was… different. The version I knew painted him as a saint. This file glossed over his achievements and detailed every bad thing he’d ever done. From pulling legs off ants at six to writing love letters at fifteen. It even included the content of the letters. I couldn’t guess Julian’s game, but I smelled danger. The file included a list of Ethan’s ex-girlfriends. And on that list was Her. Bella. The Heroine. In the story, Bella is like catnip to Julian. Realizing this, I stayed up all night brainstorming new ways to keep them apart. I tried telling him “horror stories” about couples like them. I signed him up for dating apps so he’d be too busy with blind dates. Nothing worked. The day Julian was destined to meet Bella was approaching. I was so anxious I was losing hair. Just as I was considering slipping sleeping pills into Julian’s coffee to make him sleep through the plot, I saw a video on TikTok. It was about a stalker character in a novel who harassed the protagonist so much they couldn’t focus on work. I condemned the behavior, obviously. But… could I use it on Julian? If he’s distracted by a stalker, he won’t have time to fall for the Heroine. I had no experience, so I spent three days studying “creepy text” methodology. Once I felt ready, I bought a burner SIM card and sent my first anonymous text: “Baby, my sweet Baby, I like you so much.” I thought Julian would be confused, or angry. I thought he’d try to track the number. But two hours passed. Nothing. Not even a reply. I bit my lip in disappointment. Did he not get it? Or was I not creepy enough? To find out, I went downstairs and asked to borrow his phone. He was reading files on the sofa. He handed it over without looking up. Afraid he’d check the background apps later, I opened Instagram first and voted for some random celebrity in a poll. While glancing at Julian to make sure he wasn’t watching, I opened his messages. My text was right at the top. Read. That wasn’t right… He saw it, so why was he so calm? Before I could figure it out, Julian reached out. “Give it back.” Startled, I tried to close the apps, but he snatched the phone away. He swiped the screen, a flicker of nervousness in his eyes. “What did you do on my phone?” Why was he acting guilty? Did he have secrets? “Nothing,” I said. “I just voted on a poll.” Julian opened Instagram, saw the voting pop-up, and relaxed visibly. “You like him now?” I hadn’t even looked at the name of the celebrity. But I nodded anyway. “Yeah, he’s handsome.” Julian zoomed in on the photo, scrutinizing every pixel. While he was distracted critiquing the guy, I secretly pulled out my phone and sent another anonymous text. “Why won’t you reply to me, Baby? That’s a bad habit.” The message alert dinged. Julian didn’t even frown. He just swiped it away. Still not creepy enough? I didn’t give up. I typed again: “Baby, I’m going crazy over you. I want to kiss you so bad.” Julian stiffened. A flush crept up his neck, turning his ears bright red. It worked! Overjoyed, I leaned in. “Julian, what’s wrong?” He closed his eyes, taking a long moment to compose himself. “Nothing.” Liar. I hid behind him, preparing to send another one. But before I could unlock my screen, Julian stood up abruptly. I jumped, nearly dropping my phone. “Brother?” He gripped his file so hard the paper crinkled. “I have work to handle. Don’t wait up for dinner.” He practically ran upstairs. Like he was fleeing a monster. I stared at his back, unable to stop the grin spreading across my face. He’s kind of cute when he’s scared.

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On our first anniversary after ending our long-distance relationship, I lay on the hotel bed waiting for Austin to finish his shower. I idly picked up his phone, entering the wrong passcode by mistake. To my surprise, it opened—but not to the home screen I knew. It was a secret account interface. In the only app installed, Austin had posted a thread using a burner account: “Seven years of long-distance just ended, but I’m not as happy as I thought I’d be. What should I do?” A helpful netizen asked: “What’s the situation, bro? Seven years, and you just fell out of love?” Two minutes later, Austin replied with a long paragraph. “I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.” “I think I love her, but not like before. When she throws herself into my arms, my heart doesn’t race. When she acts cute, I just feel exhausted dealing with it.” “Seven years of long-distance, I flew tens of thousands of miles back and forth. At first, there was no fatigue, only excitement to see her. But later, it changed without me noticing. I started feeling like I didn’t have enough time, like my youth was being wasted on the road.” “I even selfishly thought, why is it always me giving? Why can she accept it with such peace of mind? Shouldn’t a relationship be equal?” The netizen asked: “If she were to marry someone else right now, would you be sad? If yes, you still love her. If no, let her go.” Austin replied two days later. The timestamp was right before he picked me up from the airport. “I don’t know.” A bomb went off in my ears, leaving my mind blank. I knew then that love doesn’t disappear; it just transfers. 1 The hotel room was perfectly climate-controlled, but the 78-degree breeze couldn’t chase away the chill in my bones. My first reaction to seeing the post was disbelief. I’ve known Austin for ten years. I knew how much he loved me. We met in sophomore year of high school. I was the valedictorian; he was at the bottom of the class. To pursue me, he fought for three years, eventually graduating second in the school, becoming a campus legend. At graduation, he confessed to me under a sky full of fireworks and confetti. When I told him I was going abroad for college, he knelt and swore that distance wouldn’t affect us. It would only verify his heart. For seven years, he flew back and forth over a thousand times. Once, he landed in the evening just to see me on my birthday and flew back at 3 AM. When his startup succeeded, he spent his first pot of gold—fifty thousand dollars—entirely on jewelry for me. Every holiday and anniversary since, the gifts never stopped, getting more expensive each time. But now, he says he’s tired. The water in the bathroom stopped. The lock clicked. He peeked out, saw me holding his phone, and panic flashed in his eyes. “Babe, what are you doing?” “Checking up on me as soon as you’re back? Let me see, what did you find?” I kept my face neutral, quickly switching back to the normal interface. “Why? Not allowed to look? Do you have secrets from me?” Austin glanced at the screen, seeing only the photo gallery open, and sighed in relief. He walked over and smoothed my hair. “No, there are never secrets between us.” He took the phone, set it on the table, and leaned over me. “Babe, I missed you so much.” “We finally don’t have to be apart.” “This time I’m going to stick to you. You can’t shake me off no matter where you go.” A gentle kiss landed on the corner of my mouth as I turned my head slightly. I clenched my fists, suppressing the sourness in my chest. Even if his feelings had changed, at least in this moment, he belonged to me. I told myself to forget the post. I wrapped my arms around his neck. Before things could heat up, his phone dinged. “Mr. Sterling, urgent issue with the project. Come quickly.” To prove his innocence, Austin waved the message in front of my face. “Sorry, babe. Urgent work stuff. I have to go.” He turned around, but I hugged him from behind, my voice pleading. “It’s our first anniversary in the same country. Stay with me, please?” Maybe there really was work. Maybe it was an excuse. But after seven years apart, I cherished every second. The air grew heavy. Austin’s heartbeat remained steady. Just as he said, it didn’t race like it did when we were eighteen. After a long pause, he sighed. “Babe, we’re adults. We can’t live on love alone.” “Besides, if I don’t work, how can I marry you? How can I make your parents trust me with you?” “Be good. I’ll be back soon. If you’re tired, sleep first.” He left without giving me a chance to respond. I took a deep breath, looking up to keep the tears from falling. I dressed quickly and followed him. 2 The taxi followed him to the south side of the city. Villas flashed by outside the window, and my breathing quickened. Austin said the company needed liquidity, so our marital home could only be a condo for now. But if he was coming to this luxury villa district late at night, was it just for work? Trembling, I dialed his number. He picked up quickly, getting out of his car as he spoke. “What’s wrong, babe? Miss me already after half an hour?” “Where are you?” He sounded helpless. “Where else would I be? The office, of course. The staff is waiting for me to make a decision. I have to go, I’ll call you after the meeting.” As soon as he finished speaking, a figure in a silky nightgown threw herself into his arms. They kissed passionately under the tree. My world spun. I clutched my chest, the pain making it hard to breathe. I asked one last time, emphasizing every word. “Austin, where are you exactly?” Annoyed at the interruption, he snapped. “I said I’m working. You were paranoid when you were abroad, and now you’re doubting me when you’re back? Come see for yourself if you don’t believe me.” “Meeting’s starting. Bye.” He hung up and eagerly lifted the girl onto the hood of his car. Their noses were inches apart. “Texting me when you know I’m busy tonight? You’re getting bold.” “But I missed you.” “I was afraid you wouldn’t want me anymore now that your girlfriend is back. Wouldn’t that make me pitiful?” “I gave you my first time. You can’t be a jerk.” Austin laughed at her cuteness and booped her nose. “You’re living in my biggest villa while I’m stuck in a condo. Who’s the pitiful one?” “Fine, you’re pitiful.” “I came all this way. How are you going to compensate me?” “Hee hee, guess!” The girl jumped off the car, backed away teasingly, and curled her finger at him. “Come and get me. If you catch me, you can do whatever you want.” Austin chased after her, laughing. The sight of them running together stabbed my eyes. Tears fell uncontrollably, no matter how hard I wiped them away. When they passed under a streetlamp, I finally saw her face clearly. Chloe. In that instant, my heart twisted in agony. Suffocating. Anyone else. Why did it have to be her? The year I sponsored Chloe, Austin went with me. At the orphanage, all the kids clamored for the toys I brought. Only Chloe stared at my books. I asked her if she didn’t like toys. She shook her head and said the director told her education changes destiny. She didn’t want to be a pitiful worm begging for charity forever. My heart softened, and I took her in. For three years of high school, I tutored her almost daily. She always said she didn’t deserve happiness. It was me who told her, again and again, that as long as she was good enough, she deserved everything in the world. It was me who pulled her out of the mud and gave her a life of plenty. And now, she trampled on my heart and pushed me into hell. Before I went abroad, I entrusted her to Austin. He certainly took good care of her. Even her private life. I got out of the taxi and walked aimlessly in the rain. The downpour washed over me again and again. Seven years of memories replayed before my eyes. There was actually something I kept from Austin. The reason I went abroad was to buy him time. If I stayed, I would have been forced into a political marriage right after college. Only by leaving did we have a chance to be together forever. I bet on him trying his hardest for me. It seems I won and lost at the same time. He succeeded. But our love can never go back. I pulled out my soaked phone. After ten minutes of pressing buttons, the screen finally lit up. My father was surprised when he answered. “You remembered you have parents? Seven years of silence, I thought you died out there!” My voice was hoarse. “Dad, I’m sorry.” “I… am willing to come home for the marriage alliance.” “But I have a request. Investigate someone for me…” 3 Seven years wasted. My father said I only had three days. I agreed and hung up. When I got back to the condo, it was 4 AM. At dawn, Austin came back, reeking of perfume. Seeing me on the sofa, he jumped, looking displeased. “What are you doing here? You didn’t make a sound, I thought it was a ghost.” I took a deep breath and sneered. “A ghost? It’s your own guilty conscience.” “Floral notes. Nice taste, Mr. Sterling.” “Your employee seems to have style.” Austin’s face froze, then flushed with anger. “Are you annoying or what? Checking my phone as soon as I get back, calling me during meetings… do you know how my employees laugh at me?” “I work all night and come home to your cold face. I’m human too. When can you stop being so selfish!” I stood up abruptly, nearly fainting as my vision went black. “I’m selfish? Austin, don’t you think that’s laughable?” “Who do I work for? Who did I start this company for? If I didn’t want to marry you, wouldn’t it be easier to just get a job? Would I work until dawn?” “I haven’t dared to relax for a second in seven years. Instead of understanding my hard work, you’re suspicious. Can’t I even complain?” I laughed until tears fell. “Fine. You’re successful now. When do you plan to marry me?” Austin’s anger vanished, replaced by panic and awkwardness. “I… I didn’t mean that.” “The company has been having issues lately. I haven’t had time to think about it.” Seeing my expression, he rushed to hug me, resting his chin on my shoulder. “Babe, I know you’re insecure. Haven’t I been too, for seven years?” “But I want to be a little more perfect before I face your parents.” “Give me a little more time. I promise, soon. Okay?” I felt like I was falling into an ice cavern. I couldn’t even force a smile. I’m not a sore loser. I just wanted him to speak the truth. I just wanted a dignified end. But even that was too much to ask. “Last night, I heard Chloe’s voice.” “The ‘overtime’ you mentioned was with her.” Austin shoved me away, his eyes red. “If you have a problem with me, say it. What does this have to do with Chloe?” “She’s an employee, of course she’s in the meeting. Stop biting like a mad dog, okay?” “When did you hire her? Didn’t you say Chloe was incompetent and not worth training?” Panic flashed in his eyes. “That was before. Chloe is capable now. She even got the Employee of the Year bonus last year.” “But you never told me.” Austin’s patience snapped, or maybe he ran out of excuses. The next second, he smashed the water glass on the table and roared. “Fine! Not telling you was my fault! Happy?” “Everything is my fault! I shouldn’t have worked overtime, shouldn’t have been ambitious for you, shouldn’t have left you for work! You’re always right!” Having vented, he stormed out without looking back. The door slam echoed in the living room, a silent mockery of my one-woman show. For seven years, I was the only one still standing in this relationship. Luckily, the dream is over. It’s time for me to go. I didn’t have much at Austin’s place. Packing was effortless. After throwing out two trash bags, there was no trace of me left in the house. Only then did I realize how little weight I held in his life. Being left behind was only natural. That night, I found a hotel. My phone rang. 4 It was Chloe. Her voice was urgent. “Babe… I mean, Sis! I heard from Austin you’re back? Come to the bar, quick! He’s drunk and no one can stop him. He only listens to you.” “Here’s the address. Hurry!” Before I could speak, she hung up. She texted an address. It was right near the hotel. When I arrived at the private room, the noise was deafening. I could hear Austin’s friends jeering. “Austin, that won’t do! Drinking one glass doesn’t count! Taking a drink for Chloe means double! Those are the rules!” Austin seemed drunk, leaning into Chloe, unable to sit up. “No… no more.” His friends complained. “Come on! You drank triple for her last time. What’s wrong today? Got something on your mind? Drunk so fast.” “Forget it, Chloe. Your brother is useless. Let’s play.” Chloe glanced at me at the door and deliberately lost the game. The men winked at each other. “Find a man and French kiss for ten minutes! The kind with strings attached!” “Oh my, that’s too much. I’ll just drink.” Austin’s friend snatched her glass away. “No way! Austin already drank for you. Now you have to do the dare. Kiss! Kiss!” Chloe rolled her eyes playfully and pointed at the man next to Austin. “Him then.” “A kiss is just a kiss.” She closed her eyes and leaned in. The next second, she was pinned to the sofa. Austin’s eyes were red. He couldn’t speak clearly, but the threat was obvious. “Dare you choose someone else!” “You can only be mine… mine…” Amidst the cheers, Austin kissed her fiercely. The others acted like this was normal. Some even pulled out phones to record. My palms dug into my flesh. Something in my chest collapsed with a crash, bleeding pain. Ten minutes felt like a century. When the kiss ended, Austin collapsed onto the sofa. I pushed the door open. “What a coincidence. Long time no see.” His friends froze, unable to find an excuse. Chloe, in a short skirt and wearing Austin’s jacket, stepped forward. “Sis, you’re here.” “Don’t worry, everyone. Sis and I go way back. I’ll explain.” “She’s not petty. Right, Sis?” The guys behind her relaxed and went back to drinking, ignoring us. Chloe leaned in, lowering her voice. “Austin was too rough just now. He bit my tongue.” “But don’t worry, he just mistook me for you.” “He always says I look like you at eighteen. I don’t know why.” She smiled, eyes curving into crescents. “Maybe because I’m young.” “After all these years of your charity, I’ve repaid you many times. Every time Austin missed you, he treated me like you…” Rage boiled over. I slapped her. “Don’t dirty my ears!” The next second, a heavier slap landed on my face. “What are you doing! Get out!” I looked up into Austin’s drunken eyes. My cheek burned, the pain piercing my heart. “Austin, you hit me for Chloe?” “Look at who I am!” He roared louder, drowning me out. “I don’t care who you are! No one hurts Chloe!” “Chloe is so kind, what right do you have to hit her?” I pointed at Chloe, who was hiding behind him with a provocative smirk. “Kind? Would a kind person seduce a married man? Would she climb into her benefactor’s fiancé’s bed?” “You don’t know Chloe! You have no right to judge her! She has her reasons!” “What are you guys staring at? Throw this crazy woman out!” His friends were dumbfounded. “Austin, that’s your fiancée…” “I only know Chloe!” “Get her out!” They approached awkwardly. I straightened my jacket. “No need. I’ll walk.” “Austin Sterling, you will pay for what you did today.” He laughed like it was the funniest joke. “Pay? Do you know who my wife is? The only daughter of the Su family! Who do you think you are…” Before he could finish, he passed out. I didn’t stop. I left that toxic place immediately. Seven years of love vanished with that slap. Two days later, I boarded the plane home with my documents. Before takeoff, he sent an apology. “Babe, I was too emotional that day. I shouldn’t have argued with you.” “I thought it through. Let’s get married. I’m willing to marry you.” “Chloe is a good girl. If marrying makes you feel secure, I’ll do it.” I smirked bitterly. Like marrying me was some great act of charity. But… good girl? Hardly. Before leaving that morning, I had already sent a package to his company. That gift would serve as the severance for our seven years. Without replying, I blocked and deleted him, then turned and boarded the plane. Austin Sterling, I’m letting you go. And letting myself go, too.

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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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