Category: English

On the day his mistress gave birth, Arthur gave the newborn baby to me as a birthday present. In front of everyone, Arthur asked me if this child was enough to make me finally give up on him. In that moment, I knew there would never be anything between us. So, after chasing him for seven years, I chose to let go for the first time. Seeing my surrender, Arthur didn’t even glance at the child. Instead, he stroked my hair with ultimate tenderness. “Sera, no matter who you like in the future, Arthur will help you get him.” Later, I got together with his best friend. The usually cold and arrogant man went crazy, trying to stop the wedding that everyone else was blessing. 1 Someone told me that Arthur’s mistress was pregnant. I didn’t believe it. But late at night, I still knocked on the door of Arthur, who had just returned. There was the sound of running water in the room. Arthur opened the door for me, wrapped in a towel. “Come in.” I subconsciously clenched my fists, looking at the fiancé I had secretly loved for seven years. I slowly walked into his room. The man, with wet hair, sat lazily on the sofa, casually pouring himself a glass of red wine. He looked at me standing at the door with a playful expression. “What do you want from me?” I looked down at my toes, not knowing how to ask. I’ve always known. Arthur didn’t like his fiancée, who was five years younger than him. But I really, really liked him. I liked him so much that even though he was never short of women, I never asked him about it once. But today, after hearing that his long-time mistress was pregnant. It was the first time I lost my composure and ran over to confront him. While I was lost in thought, Arthur had already walked up to me with a wine glass. He pinched my chin with his large, unyielding hand. He handed the half-finished glass of red wine to my lips. “Sera, be good, drink it. “Tomorrow is your birthday. I’ve prepared a birthday present for you. You’ll like it.” There was an inexplicable excitement in the man’s low laughter. That night, I had long forgotten the reason I went to see him. I lay in bed with flushed cheeks, listening to the violent beating of my heart. Looking forward to tomorrow. 2 For this birthday party, Arthur invited almost everyone in our circle. It was exceptionally grand. But until the end of the party, the man who said he was going to give me a present never showed up. I stared stubbornly out the main door. The flame that had burned in my heart all night seemed to have been frozen by ice. Arthur, who had always hated and resisted this marriage. How could he suddenly change his temper? Just as I turned around in disappointment, a gentle, magnetic male voice came from afar. “Sera!” The man in the expensive black suit finally arrived. Behind him was a middle-aged woman dressed as a nanny, who seemed to be holding something in her arms. Arthur looked at me intensely. “Did you wait long? I went to get your present.” Under my nervous and expectant gaze, a corner of the child in the woman’s arms was revealed. “My newborn son, Sera, is for you.” The smile on Arthur’s face disappeared at some point. He stared at me fixedly. At the moment our eyes met, I suddenly understood the meaning in his eyes. Before anyone at the scene could react, Arthur spoke again. “Sera, is one child enough to make you give up on me? “If not, give me a year, and I’ll give you another one.” I couldn’t describe the feeling. In that moment, I seemed to lose all my emotions, like a marionette with broken strings. I just stood there blankly. I heard a crisp slap, which instantly rang out in the quiet space. 3 From the study came Arthur’s muffled grunts of pain; two canes had been broken. He never bowed his head to admit his mistake. When I knocked and entered, Arthur was kneeling on the floor with his back straight. He glanced at me coldly. As if speaking for me to hear, he opened his thin lips. “I won’t marry Sera, not even if I die. “If you force me to marry her again, I’ll have a bunch of illegitimate children outside for her to raise.” Arthur’s grandfather glared, raising the spare cane beside him high. “How is Sera inferior to those women outside? What exactly do you dislike about her?” Arthur turned his head, his indifferent gaze falling on me. Just one look made my blood run cold. Years of companionship hadn’t stirred the slightest affection in him for me. In that moment, I knew there was no possibility between us. “Grandpa, let’s cancel the engagement.” I looked up, meeting his grandfather’s heartbroken gaze, and slowly took off the jade bracelet on my wrist. “I don’t think I’m inferior to anyone else. If he doesn’t like me, someone else will.” At my insistence, we exchanged back our engagement tokens. This engagement, which had lasted for over a decade, finally ceased to be the bond between us, just as he wished. Arthur struggled to get up from the floor, a flicker of emotion in his eyes as he looked at me. He didn’t expect me to give him up so readily. “Sera, can you really resist pestering me?” I nodded. Arthur’s gaze lingered on me, seemingly still unconvinced by my promise. I gave a bitter smile. “Arthur, I won’t like you anymore.” The man’s eyelashes trembled, and after a moment of silence. He gave a soft “Hmm.” When the middle-aged woman came in holding the crying child, Arthur didn’t even glance at the baby. He stepped forward, leaving us no way out, and touched my hair with extreme gentleness. “Sera, no matter who you like in the future, Arthur will help you get him.” That day, I didn’t respond. Because starting today, I had completely kicked him out of my world. 4 The day I moved out of the Sterling estate, I didn’t take anything related to Arthur. I declined his grandfather’s repeated requests to stay. Carrying only a suitcase, I left the Sterling home where I had lived for over a decade. But just as I reached the door, a girl ran towards me, blocking my way. The moment the girl looked up, I recognized her instantly. She was the woman who had been with Arthur the longest, and the biological mother of his son. The girl recognized me too. She bit her lip tightly, helpless tears falling before me. “Ms. Vance, please don’t take my child.” The girl took a deep breath, putting on a pained expression. “I know you don’t like me staying by Arthur’s side. As long as you return the child to me. “I can… leave him.” My heart suddenly ached. All these years chasing after Arthur, in their eyes, I was just a vicious fiancée who relentlessly clung to him and used every trick in the book. I laughed self-deprecatingly and was about to speak. Arthur got out of the car. “Don’t worry, no one can take our child.” With his long legs, the man reached the girl in a few strides. The girl seemed to have found her anchor. She leaned weakly against Arthur, tears streaming down her face. Arthur wrapped his arm around the girl’s waist and looked at me warningly. “Sera, don’t forget your promise.” I gestured to the suitcase in my hand. “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten.” Arthur’s gaze swept over, and when he saw the suitcase in my hand. His face suddenly grew colder. “Hmph, leaving the Sterling house right after breaking the engagement, outsiders will think our family went bankrupt and can’t afford to keep you. “Sera, I won’t allow you to leave.” 5 My grip on the suitcase tightened slightly, meeting Arthur’s icy stare. “Without the engagement, if I stay any longer, people will really start talking.” With that, I tried to walk down the steps. But Arthur grabbed my arm tightly. “I said, I won’t allow you to leave.” In my memory, this was the first time Arthur had lost his temper with me. For someone he cared so little about, even a glance from him was a luxury. But now, I suddenly found this man incomprehensible. Regardless of what he said, I couldn’t possibly stay. I forcefully pulled his large hand off my arm and looked at the girl behind him, who had stopped crying. “Ms. Shen is still here, Arthur, you should be mindful of boundaries. “When you marry Ms. Shen in the future, it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to be here.” Arthur was truly angry now. He shoved the suitcase beside me backward, and it instantly clattered down the steps. His face was taut, his eyes dark, staring at me for a long time. Suddenly, he laughed. “Right, I forgot. Xinran and my son are moving in today. It would indeed be inconvenient if you stayed. “Your room can perfectly serve as my son’s nursery. Even if you didn’t want to leave today, I would have made you. Sera, get out!” After he finished, Arthur didn’t spare me another glance. Holding the hand of a secretly delighted Shen Xinran, he went inside without looking back. The heavy door slammed shut with a bang. I stood outside, picking up the suitcase with a broken corner. I didn’t feel much sadness. Instead, I felt a sense of relief. Relief that after seven years of loving Arthur, I finally stopped. That day, I straightened my back and left, firm and resolute.

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I lay on the birthing bed, contractions tightening, one after another. My husband, Liam Clarke, held my hand, his gaze so gentle it could melt. “Just a little longer, Eleanor, we’ll see our baby soon.” Sweat drenched me from the pain, yet I managed a small smile for him. It wasn’t until the nurse walked in with a syringe that I thought it was the epidural for pain relief. But Liam suddenly released my hand, stepping back. The moment the needle pierced my skin, I heard Liam say: “Adjust the dosage carefully. She must not go into full labor until Ophelia has delivered.” My eyes widened, staring at him, but he merely glanced down at his watch. “Ophelia is six centimeters dilated. We just need to delay for another two hours.” I wanted to scream, to struggle, but the drug had already been pushed in. The severe contractions in my abdomen, as if an invisible hand had suddenly squeezed them. Came to an abrupt halt. … I was wheeled into a makeshift holding cell in the hospital basement. Liam’s sister, Lydia, stood by the door, idly toying with a scalpel. “Sister Eleanor, don’t blame my brother.” “The child Ophelia is carrying is my eldest brother’s posthumous son—the first male heir of our Clarke family in this generation.” “No matter how early you deliver, it’s just a granddaughter. Useless.” I clutched my belly, a new wave of contractions fighting against the medication. The pain made my vision blacken. “Call a doctor, I’m going into labor, really…” Lydia smiled. She walked in, knelt before me, and gently patted my face with the scalpel. “Deliver what?” “The medication will last another three hours. Sister Ophelia has already entered the delivery room.” “You just wait here obediently. Once her son is safely born, you can deliver however you like.” She finished, then stood up, instructing the bodyguards at the door: “Watch her. If she dares to scream, gag her.” The door closed. The basement only had a dim emergency light. I lay on the floor, the blood beneath me already soaking my dress. My phone had been taken by Liam as soon as I entered the hospital. He said radiation was bad for the baby. Now, looking back, he feared I might contact someone outside. I curled up, trying to breathe deeply to alleviate the pain. But my mind was filled with Liam’s expression from earlier. Cold, calculating, as if looking at an object. Not a wife, nor a woman about to bear his child. Three months ago, his eldest brother died in a car accident. Leaving behind his pregnant widow, Ophelia, three months along. At the funeral, Old Mr. Clarke wept, clutching Ophelia’s hand and saying: “You must give birth safely. The Clarke family cannot be without an heir.” At the time, I felt sorry for Ophelia, and proactively said: “Dad, don’t worry, Liam and my child will also take good care of you.” The old man glanced at me, saying nothing. It turned out that from then on, my child had already been forsaken. “Ah…” Another wave of contractions struck, more intense than before. The medication was weakening; the baby was coming. I clawed at the door panel, banging with all my might. “Someone, I’m in labor, save my baby.” There was no movement outside the door. Only after my voice went hoarse did I hear the bodyguard’s impatient tone: “What’s all the fuss? Miss Lydia said to wait.” “But the baby…” “If it dies, it’s fate. Who told your belly not to be strong enough to carry a son?” I slumped to the ground, shivering cold. Not fate. Someone wanted my baby dead. I don’t know how long I endured in that basement. The blood flowed more and more, soaking the ground beneath me. As my consciousness began to blur, the door suddenly opened. It wasn’t Lydia, nor the bodyguards. It was the Clarke family’s personal physician, Dr. Chen. When he saw my condition, his face instantly paled. “Mrs. Clarke? What are you doing here?” “Mr. Clarke said you were resting in the VIP room, didn’t he?” I tried to speak, but no sound came out. I could only point to my belly, tears streaming incessantly. Dr. Chen quickly walked over, kneeling to examine me. The moment his hand touched my belly, he gasped. “Fully dilated! Water’s broken!” “Immediate surgery needed!” He tried to lift me, but the moment I moved, a gush of warmth flooded from my lower body. Blood. A large amount of blood. Dr. Chen’s hands trembled. He shouted towards the door: “Someone! Quickly! The patient is hemorrhaging!” The corridor was empty. This private hospital was funded by the Clarke family. Tonight, it had been cleared for Ophelia’s delivery. All medical staff were on standby on the third floor. Dr. Chen pulled out his phone to call, but found there was no signal in the basement. “I’ll carry you up, hold on!” He gritted his teeth, picked me up, and stumbled out. The stairs were long, every step jarring me beyond endurance. I could feel the baby dropping, but it just wouldn’t come out. The medication was still working, contractions coming and going sporadically. This was the most dangerous. “Dr. Chen…” I clutched his collar, my voice a mere whisper. “Save the baby, please.” “Don’t say such foolish things, everything will be fine!” He finally rushed to the first floor, heading towards the operating room. But at the door, we both froze. The operating room door was wide open. It was empty. The surgical lights were gone. The operating table was gone. Monitors, oxygen machines, all medical equipment, vanished. Only an empty room remained, with a few power outlets on the walls. Dr. Chen stood rigid. I heard a gurgling sound in his throat, as if he were being strangled. “How could this be…” “I checked the equipment this afternoon…” Footsteps approached from the end of the corridor. Lydia walked over with two nurses. Seeing us, she raised an eyebrow. “Dr. Chen, what are you doing here?” “Sister Ophelia is in the delivery room on the third floor. Why did you come down?” Dr. Chen pointed to the empty operating room, his voice trembling: “Where’s the equipment? Where did the operating room equipment go?” Lydia looked innocent: “It was moved to the third floor.” “Sister Ophelia is having a C-section. She needs the best equipment. In case of an emergency, an ordinary operating room wouldn’t be enough.” She said, her gaze falling on me, and smiled. “Is Sister Eleanor going into labor?” “You’ll have to wait a bit. Sister Ophelia isn’t finished yet.” “Just hold on a little longer.” I looked at her exquisitely made-up face. Suddenly I remembered half a year ago, she walked arm-in-arm with me while shopping, sweetly saying: “Sister Eleanor, you’re so kind, closer than my own sister.” At the time, I even bought her a handbag worth tens of thousands. Looking back now, it was a joke. Dr. Chen frantically rushed into the nurses’ station, searching for emergency equipment. But the cabinets were bare. Not even the most basic hemostats or gauze. “Where’s the medicine? Hemostatic agents! Oxytocin!” A nurse whispered, “They’ve all been sent to the third floor.” “Mr. Clarke ordered that all resources prioritize Mrs. Ophelia.” Dr. Chen slammed his fist on the counter. He looked at me with bloodshot eyes, his lips trembling: “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Mrs. Clarke…” “I can’t do anything…” Lydia walked over, patting his shoulder: “Dr. Chen, don’t worry.” “Sister Eleanor hasn’t delivered yet, has she? Once Sister Ophelia is done, the equipment will be moved back down.” She glanced at my belly and added: “Even if she does deliver, it’s just a girl. If she’s gone, she’s gone.” “The Clarke family isn’t lacking one of those.” I stared intently at her. Stared at this person I had loved like my own sister for three years. Then, with all my remaining strength, I squeezed out two words: “Beast.” Lydia’s face darkened. She bent down, leaning close to my ear, her voice very low: “Curse all you want, go ahead.” “Anyway, once you’ve delivered and your body is weak, I have plenty of ways to shut you up.” “By then, the position of Mrs. Clarke will belong to Sister Ophelia.” “As for you…” She straightened up, a brilliant smile on her face: “Out of respect for my brother, we’ll spare your life. You can be a servant.” Dr. Chen couldn’t listen anymore: “Miss Lydia! This is murder!” “Murder?” Lydia scoffed. “Dr. Chen, watch your words.” “It’s not uncommon for a woman to die during childbirth, is it?” “Besides, this is my Clarke family’s private business. As an outsider, is it any of your concern?” She finished, waving to the bodyguards: “Take Dr. Chen to rest.” “As for Sister Eleanor, I’ll personally take care of her.” Two bodyguards stepped forward, dragging Dr. Chen away. Dr. Chen struggled, shouting: “Mrs. Clarke! Press the acupoints to stimulate contractions!” “Don’t give up! The baby can still be saved!” His voice faded into the distance. Lydia closed the nurses’ station door and turned to look at me. She pulled out her phone from her pocket and made a video call. “Brother, Sister Eleanor is going into labor. Do you want to take a look?” Liam’s face appeared on the screen. He was outside the delivery room, with busy medical staff in the background. “Eleanor, don’t make a fuss.” “Ophelia’s not doing well here; the fetal heart rate has dropped.” Lydia aimed the camera at me: “Look, Sister Eleanor is bleeding a lot. Is she going to die too?” Liam frowned, glanced at me, and quickly averted his gaze. “Tell her to wait.” “Once Ophelia has delivered, the doctors will come down.” “Eleanor, you take care of things for now. I can’t leave here.” The video call ended. Lydia shrugged, putting her phone away. “Hear that?” “In my brother’s heart, Sister Ophelia is the first priority.” “You, you’re just a breeding tool.” “Once a tool is used up, it’s meant to be discarded.” I closed my eyes, no longer looking at her. My hand stealthily moved behind me, feeling for the lining of my dress. A button-sized device was sewn there. My father had given it to me. He said, “Eleanor, the Clarke family’s waters run deep. If anything happens, press this.” At the time, I laughed, thinking he was overly cautious. “Dad, Liam is very good to me, and everyone in the Clarke family treats me well.” Looking back now, I was utterly foolish. I used my fingernail to pry open the device’s protective cover. And pressed it gently. No sound, no light. But I knew the signal had been sent. My father had told me that once this was pressed, someone would arrive within half an hour. But half an hour… Could my baby wait half an hour? My consciousness grew increasingly hazy. Lydia sat in a chair playing on her phone, occasionally glancing at me, her gaze like someone observing a lab animal. “Sister Eleanor, what did you marry into this family for?” “For my brother’s good looks? For the Clarke family’s wealth?” “But didn’t you consider, you come from an ordinary family, what right did you have to enter the Clarke family’s door?” I said nothing. Just kept pressing the acupoints Dr. Chen had mentioned. Press hard. Even if hope was slim. Lydia continued: “If it weren’t for your fertile womb, getting pregnant early, my brother wouldn’t have married you at all.” “The original plan was for you to have a son, to at least be somewhat useful.” “But the ultrasound showed it was a girl, and Grandpa’s face darkened.” “Fortunately, Sister Ophelia is carrying a boy, otherwise the Clarke family would have been cut off this generation.” She stood up, walked over, and kicked my leg. “So, you see, a person must know their place.” “Don’t force things that aren’t meant for you.” “Once Sister Ophelia delivers, you’ll sign the divorce papers, take some money, and leave.” “Then you can marry an ordinary man later. How nice.” I opened my eyes, looking at her: “Does Liam know you’re talking to me like this?” Lydia smiled: “He knows.” “My brother asked me to come and persuade you.” “He said you’re stubborn and he was afraid you’d do something rash, so he told me to guide you properly.” I forced a twisted smile. Wanted to laugh, but couldn’t. Another wave of intense pain ripped through my abdomen. This time, it was more violent than before. The medication had completely worn off; the baby was coming. “Ah!” I couldn’t help but cry out. Lydia stepped back, frowning: “So troublesome.” She opened the door, shouting outside: “Someone, check if she’s going into labor.” A nurse cautiously walked in, took one look, and her face went white. “Fully dilated, head is visible…” “But there’s too much bleeding; we need to deliver immediately!” Lydia was impatient: “Then deliver!” The nurse was almost crying: “There’s no equipment, no medicine. Delivering like this… both the mother and baby are in danger…” “Then let it be dangerous.” Lydia said coldly. “Anyway, they’re going to die, why care about this?” Lydia gave her instructions and then went to find Liam, completely disregarding whether I lived or died. The nurse dared not speak, only knelt down and tried to help me manually dilate. But I couldn’t exert any force. Too much blood loss, my strength was completely drained. The baby was stuck, neither moving up nor down. Time ticked by, second by agonizing second. Until hurried footsteps suddenly echoed in the corridor. Many people. The sound of boots on the ground, synchronized. The nurse’s face changed: “Who’s there?” The door was kicked open. A group of people in black combat gear rushed in, each carrying a gun. The leading man removed his helmet, revealing a sharply chiseled face. The moment he saw me, his eyes reddened. “Miss!” I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Could only reach out to him. The nurse shrieked in panic: “Who are you! How did you get in! Security! Security!” The man didn’t even look at her, rushing directly to me and kneeling on one knee. “Your subordinate is late, please forgive me, Miss!” He picked me up, ordering those behind him: “Clear the area! Prepare for emergency!” “Yes, sir!” The men in black moved swiftly. The nurse tried to flee in the chaos but was instantly pinned to the ground. She struggled, shouting: “How dare you touch me! This is Clarke family hospital!” The man turned back, glancing at her. His eyes were as cold as ice. “The Clarke family?” “Soon there will be no Clarke family.” I was carried onto a modified medical vehicle. The vehicle was fully equipped, like a mobile operating room. Doctors and nurses were already on standby, immediately beginning resuscitation. “Blood pressure 60/40! Hemorrhagic shock!” “Fetal distress! Emergency C-section required!” “But the patient’s condition is too poor, surgical risk…” “Do it!” the man who carried me in roared. “I’ll take responsibility for anything that happens!” I clutched his hand, using my last ounce of strength: “Save the baby, save the baby first…” He squeezed my hand, his voice trembling: “Miss, don’t speak, conserve your strength.” “The Master is already on his way, he’ll be here soon.” “You and the baby will both be fine, certainly…” Before he could finish, the monitor suddenly emitted a piercing alarm. “Heart stopped! Quick! Defibrillate!” “Fetal heartbeat is also dropping!” “Prepare for C-section! Immediately!” I was quickly secured, and an anesthesia mask was placed over my face. Before losing consciousness, I only heard the doctor shout: “It’s too late! The baby… the baby has no heartbeat!” Darkness, endless darkness. I don’t know how long passed. I opened my eyes. An unfamiliar ceiling above me, the smell of disinfectant in the air. “The Miss is awake!” Someone shouted in surprise. Several faces leaned in, all familiar. My father’s personal bodyguards, uncles who had watched me grow up since childhood. “The baby?” I asked. My voice was impossibly hoarse. The room instantly fell silent. After a few seconds, the man standing at the foot of the bed slowly turned around. It was my father. A man in his fifties, his hair had turned completely white overnight. He walked over, sat by the bed, and held my hand. “Eleanor…” Only two words, and then he choked up. I looked at his bloodshot eyes and already knew the answer. “Gone, aren’t they?” Father nodded, tears falling. “Severe hemorrhage, placental abruption, the baby was suffocated for too long…” “The doctors did their best…” I closed my eyes. I didn’t cry, nor did I scream. I just felt an empty space in my heart. The little life that had lived in my belly for nine months, kicking me every day, whispering secrets with me. Gone. “Where’s Liam?” I asked. Father wiped away his tears, his eyes turning cold: “With Ophelia.” “She delivered, it’s a boy.” “Everyone in the Clarke family is celebrating; no one remembers you.” I smiled. Smiled until my whole body trembled. “Good, very good.” Father squeezed my hand: “Eleanor, come home with Dad.” “The Clarke family doesn’t deserve you, and that man even less so.” I opened my eyes, looking at him: “Dad, I want to do something.” “Tell me.” “Prepare a fake body for me.” “One exactly like me, freshly delivered, looking like I died from excessive blood loss.” Father froze: “You want to…” “I want them to think I’m dead.” “Then, I want to see with my own eyes how they celebrate.” “How they joyfully welcome a new life at the time of my death.” Father was silent for a long time, then nodded. “Alright, Dad will help you.” The fake body was prepared with uncanny realism. Silicone skin, blood bags inserted, body temperature simulated. Placed in the morgue freezer, it was indistinguishable from a real corpse. I sat in the monitoring room, watching the screen. Father sat beside me, holding my hand. “Regret it?” he asked. “Regret what?” “Regret marrying him.” I thought for a moment, then shook my head. “No regret. At least it allowed me to see through people’s hearts.” On the screen, Liam finally emerged from the delivery room. He held a swaddled infant, his face beaming with the joy of a new father. Ophelia lay on a mobile bed, being pushed out, her face pale but her smile radiant. Old Mr. Clarke, leaning on his cane, shakily walked over, looking at the baby, tears streaming down his face. “Grandson, I finally have a grandson…” “The Clarke family has an heir…” A group of people surrounded the baby, filled with laughter and joy. No one asked about me. No one remembered that another expectant mother was still struggling between life and death. Until a nurse quietly said, “Mr. Clarke, your wife…”

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I was rear-ended. The girl who hit me was a mess of frantic apologies, begging to handle it privately. When I refused, she made a call for help. Half an hour later, my husband, Sebastian, arrived at the scene. The girl was wracked with guilt, but Sebastian, my always-composed husband, was the one offering her gentle words of comfort. That’s when I realized I knew her. From the photograph he kept on his desk. The woman he fought his entire family for, long before he married me. The one that got away. 1 I was thrown against the steering wheel by the sudden impact. The world swam for a second, and then clarity hit. I’d been rear-ended. I leaned my head back, my heart hammering against my ribs. A few deep breaths later, just as my pulse began to settle, a frantic knocking shattered the quiet of the car. It was sharp and insistent, a desperate rhythm that made my temples throb. The discomfort peaked, and I rolled down the window. A young woman was bent over, peering in. She froze for a second, then her words tumbled out in a rush. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” She was young, slender, dressed in a light-blue denim dress. Her skin was pale, her eyes enormous and wide with a kind of dewy, innocent confusion. For some reason, I felt a flicker of recognition, a strange sense of familiarity, even though I was sure I’d never seen her before. I hit the hazard lights and unbuckled my seatbelt, my voice heavy with fatigue. “Let’s just follow procedure.” She just stood there, silent. I glanced over at her, my brow furrowing. “Could we… could we possibly handle this privately?” she asked, her voice small and pleading. “I know it’s a lot to ask,” she said, biting her lip. “I just bought this car, and my mom… she’s really sick—” “Ma’am,” I cut her off. “First things first. Can you please put out the warning triangle?” Her eyes widened, shimmering with unshed tears. “It’s rush hour. It’s dangerous not to have it out,” I said, my patience wearing thin. “Don’t you even know the basics?” 2 “I’m so sorry!” She ducked her head, the picture of shame, and apologized again. “I’ll go put it out right now.” A dull ache radiated from my lower back. I waited a moment before getting out of the car. The damage wasn’t catastrophic, but a long, ugly scrape marred most of the rear bumper. The girl’s car was a standard white sedan. A sticker on the back window read, “New Driver. Please Be Patient.” I gave it a passing glance. After setting up the triangle, she hurried back over. She saw me taking pictures with my phone and hesitated, looking like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. “Hi, this is all my fault,” she finally managed. “But… could we please not call the police? Can we just settle this between ourselves?” “My back hurts, and this was a serious collision,” I said, looking straight at her. “If we handle this privately, how will you compensate me? More importantly, how will my interests be protected?” “I… I can pay for the car repairs first,” she stammered. “Or I can take you to the hospital right now.” “This is a Panamera. I just picked it up two days ago.” The color drained from her face. She stared at me, speechless. I sighed. “Just call your insurance company.” She looked down, her fingers tracing nervous patterns on her phone screen. “I… I haven’t gotten insurance for it yet,” she whispered. My voice was cold. “And how is that my problem?” She blinked rapidly, her eyes slowly turning red. I didn’t say another word. She was at fault, yet she didn’t have a clue how to handle the most basic steps of a post-accident procedure. It was all on me. After calling the police and my insurance agent, a wave of exhaustion washed over me. I got back into my car to wait. I sent a quick text to Sebastian, just to let him know I’d be late getting back to The Summit tonight. We were both busy, but we’d planned to have dinner together. I didn’t mention the accident; he was swamped with a new project, and I didn’t want to worry him. After locking my phone, I glanced in the rearview mirror. The girl was on her phone now, her posture a mixture of distress and dependence. I guessed she was talking to her boyfriend. 3 The police and the insurance adjuster arrived quickly, followed shortly by my assistant. The girl, after her phone call, had done nothing but wait. Now, surrounded by a small crowd, she looked terribly alone, a strangely pitiful figure. My assistant checked on me first, and after confirming I was alright, went to handle the negotiations. I leaned my head back against the seat, closing my eyes. A moment later, I glanced up, and my body went rigid. In the rearview mirror, I saw Sebastian’s secretary, Peterson, talking to a police officer. What was Peterson doing here? In the next second, the girl’s face lit up. She took a few eager steps forward, then stopped abruptly. Her dress swayed as she bit her lip, a shy tremor of emotion, and mouthed a name. It was strange. In that one frozen moment, I could read her lips perfectly. She said, Mr. Blackwood. A tall man in a black trench coat stepped into the frame of my mirror. He was lean and powerful, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. I threw the car door open. The girl’s head was bowed in a mix of shame and guilt. “I’m so sorry,” she was saying, her voice thick with emotion. “I only called you because I had no one else to turn to.” “I just bought the car, my mom is so sick, and I never even got around to buying insurance.” Her voice broke on a sob. “The other car… it’s a luxury car. I don’t even know what kind. She’s demanding—” She choked on her words, unable to continue. Sebastian hadn’t seen me. His eyes seemed fixed on the girl in front of him. His expression was as stoic as ever, but there was a softness in it, a gentleness I had never seen before. “It’s okay,” he said, his usually cool voice laced with reassurance. “Peterson will take care of it.” 4 The girl was crying softly now. Sebastian seemed to let out a sigh before offering her a handkerchief. It was a pale green silk square. I’d bought it for him in Paris a month ago. Last week, we were kissing in the car, and he had used that same handkerchief to wipe away my smudged lipstick. He had pulled me onto his lap, and when I’d asked for it back as I was getting out, he leaned away, a faint smile playing on his lips as he tucked it into his breast pocket. I pretended to be annoyed, and he leaned in to kiss the tip of my nose, murmuring, “What, can’t even spare a single handkerchief for me?” I thought he treasured it. A buzzing started in my ears. How ironic, I thought. He was more than willing to spare it now. Just as the girl took the handkerchief, Peterson turned and saw me. “Mrs. Blackwood?!” Sebastian’s head snapped in my direction. Our eyes met. The setting sun cast his sharp features in shadow, and his eyes were wide with undisguised shock. I looked down at my phone. No new messages. He hadn’t replied to my text. But he had come here, in person, to stand on the opposite side of this conflict, negotiating compensation for the person who had crashed into me. It made my attempt to shield him from worry seem utterly ridiculous. A sharp, stabbing pain shot through my head, a dizzying whiteout. In my peripheral vision, I saw the girl smile. It was a triumphant smile. Not hesitant, not pitiful anymore. It was calm, knowing, as if she had expected this all along. And suddenly, I understood why she had looked so familiar. I knew her. From a photo Sebastian kept on his desk in his study. Before he married me, Sebastian had fought his entire family, ready to give up everything. She was the one that got away, the woman he swore he would marry. My husband’s old flame, Lily. 5 A delicate, charged silence fell over the scene. Peterson glanced at me, then at Lily, his face a mask of professional anxiety. He had been with Sebastian for years; he knew all the stories of his reckless youth. After a long moment, Sebastian shrugged off his trench coat and walked towards me. The familiar scent of sandalwood enveloped me as he draped the coat over my shoulders. “Why didn’t you text me?” he asked, his voice even, as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “Are you hurt anywhere?” “I did,” I said, meeting his gaze. “You didn’t reply.” Before he could answer, a police officer approached Lily. “Ma’am, you’ll need to upload the liability statement.” Lily’s eyes darted to Sebastian, then quickly away, a flicker of fear in her expression. “Of course,” she said meekly. I knew Sebastian too well. The moment the words left Lily’s lips, I started counting in my head. One… two… On the third second, Sebastian spoke. “Peterson, you handle it.” Peterson wouldn’t look at me as he turned to follow the officer. I let out a small, bitter laugh. Just as I expected. Sebastian took my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, the same placating gesture he always used when I was upset. “Mr. Blackwood,” Lily broke the awkward silence. “Do you two… know each other?” I laughed again, a hollow sound, and looked at Sebastian, already knowing what was coming. His handsome features tightened, his jaw clenching. He gave a single, sharp nod. “She’s my wife.” The subtle shift in his expression was like a needle to my heart. For the first time, I hated how well I understood him. Because I knew, in that instant, that he wasn’t declaring our unity to Lily. He wasn’t defending me. He was using the title of ‘wife’ as a weapon against her, a bitter, resentful way of proving: I’ve moved on. After all, everyone knew that after a year of fighting for her, it was Lily who had finally given up and broken up with him. 6 This gift for sensing the emotional undercurrents of a room could be a curse. Right now, Lily’s feigned surprise and Sebastian’s thin veneer of calm felt like a suffocating performance. The anger and humiliation drained out of me, replaced by the cold realization that in this three-person drama, I was the one left on the outside. Sebastian and I were the married ones, but it didn’t matter. I felt like a damp cloth, wrung out and discarded. A strange, twisted ache settled in my chest. Lily tucked her hair behind her ear, looking down as if to hide a wave of disappointment. “You two make a beautiful couple,” she murmured. I stared at her, my face a blank mask. After three seconds, I pulled my hand from Sebastian’s and turned away. I was back in my car for less than a minute when the passenger door opened. I grabbed the trench coat from my shoulders and threw it at him. Sebastian caught it, as if he’d been expecting it. He leaned in, his solid frame filling the space, and pulled me into his arms. I struggled, but he held me fast, his strength overwhelming mine. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his hand cupping the back of my head as he pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. “I’m late.” “Get out,” I hissed, turning my face away. “You make me sick.” “I was trying to get back at her when I told her you were my wife.” My struggles ceased. That was Sebastian—always brutally honest about his feelings, so honest it could set your teeth on edge. He cradled my face in his hands, his head dipping low until our noses touched, our breath mingling in the small space. “I lost control,” he said softly. “It was wrong of me to embarrass you like that.” “I shouldn’t have used that tone when I introduced you. She was at fault, and I shouldn’t have stepped in to solve her problem without knowing the facts, effectively putting myself in opposition to you.” His light brown eyes reflected only me. His thumb caressed my cheek. “This is the one and only time. I promise.” He knows, a voice screamed in my head. He knows exactly what he’s doing. I had known Sebastian for too long. He never hid anything from me, including what I saw in his eyes right now. He was admitting it. He still hadn’t completely moved on from Lily. I closed my eyes, a familiar sense of helplessness washing over me like a cold tide. 7 My assistant drove the car to the hospital, where I had a full check-up. The results showed nothing serious. Sebastian spoke with the doctor at length, carefully noting down all the instructions. In these matters, he was always impeccable. He drove on the way back, his other hand firmly laced with mine. The mountain road twisted and turned, offering sweeping views of the glittering harbor and the city skyline below. For some reason, my mind drifted back. It had been ten years since I first met Sebastian at The Summit, when I was just seventeen. A decade, gone in a flash. The Sebastian of ten years ago was impossibly arrogant, a young man for whom life was an effortless conquest. A privileged background was one thing, but he had the rare luxury of both freedom and love. He was a golden boy who did whatever he wanted. I couldn’t say if I was jealous of him. Our families were of similar standing, our ages close, and for years, my name was always mentioned in the same breath as his, a constant comparison. But I was never as lucky as he was. That summer at The Summit, he stood on the second-floor balcony, hair still tousled from sleep, and looked down at me. “So you’re Julia?” Later, I went upstairs, and we played a couple of video games. And after that, to escape our mutually resentful parents, I became a regular visitor at The Summit. Sebastian and I were two sides of the same coin. Lying side-by-side in the attic one day, he suddenly said, “It feels like you’re another version of me.” I flipped the book of poetry I was reading onto his face. “To receive such high praise from the great Sebastian Blackwood, I am truly humbled.” He turned his head just as I shifted onto my side. The book slid off, and the tip of my nose brushed his cheek. My lips parted slightly. We fell silent, the air between us thick with the ambiguous dance of our breathing. That kiss never happened. As he closed his eyes and leaned towards me, I snatched the book from the floor. I can still remember it now. It was a collection of poems by John Keats.

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My eight-month pregnant sister-in-law was violently shoved to the ground, hemorrhaging profusely, and rushed to the hospital. I drove right past her. I rolled up my car window, pretended I didn’t see a thing, and hit the gas. In my past life, I was the one who found her passed out in a pool of blood. I immediately rushed her to the hospital. The situation was critical. The massive hemorrhage triggered an amniotic fluid embolism. My husband was the top obstetrician in the city. I called him, begging him to get to the hospital immediately. But he assumed I was just throwing a jealous fit because he was out to dinner with his childhood sweetheart’s family. He thought I was using his sister’s “emergency” as a manipulative tactic to force him to come home. By the time his family finally arrived at the hospital, his sister had already died from the embolism because the doctors couldn’t save her in time. His entire family blamed me for her death. They believed I intentionally misled my husband, causing the fatal delay. Her husband, rushing back from out of town, believed their venomous lies. Consumed by grief and rage, he hacked me to death with a machete right at her funeral. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the exact day my sister-in-law was pushed and started hemorrhaging. 1 My vision blurred for a second. As the stoplight turned red, I instinctively hit the brakes. Screams and panicked shouts erupted from the sidewalk. “Call 911! A pregnant woman just fell and she’s bleeding everywhere!” My hand shot to the door handle. But the exact second I was about to push the door open, horrific memories flooded my mind. My husband and my in-laws pointing fingers at my face, cursing me with vile words, blaming me for her death. And then… I touched my own stomach. In my past life, this was where my brother-in-law’s machete had repeatedly struck, turning my unborn child into pulp. Phantom pains made every muscle in my body spasm in agony. I pulled my hand back. The light turned green. Without a second of hesitation, I stepped on the gas and drove away. To make absolutely sure my in-laws couldn’t use me as a scapegoat again, I drove straight to my mother-in-law’s house. “Mom, Arthur is working late tonight, so I bought some fresh fish and brought it over for you.” I walked in, pretending I didn’t notice her frantically hanging up a video call, looking incredibly guilty. “Oh, Luna, you’re here…” Before she could finish her sentence, her phone rang. She answered it, and her face instantly turned ghost-white. Tears burst from her eyes. Her legs gave out, and she practically crawled toward me. “Hurry! We have to go to the hospital! Mia fell!” I already knew, but I feigned absolute shock. I helped her into my car and sped toward the maternity hospital as fast as I could. It was the exact hospital where my husband worked. In this life, without my intervention, bystanders had called the ambulance that brought her here. By the time we arrived, my sister-in-law was already in the operating room. “Family members, please sign here. The patient is 32 weeks pregnant. She suffered a severe fall and massive hemorrhaging. An emergency C-section is absolutely necessary.” Just like in my past life, my mother-in-law signed the forms with violently trembling hands. I turned to her and said, “Arthur is the best obstetrician in the city. He told me he was working late today. Just in case, I should probably call him down here.” She hesitated for a split second, then nodded. I called Arthur’s number. It rang three times and went straight to voicemail. “Mom, Arthur might be in the middle of something. I’ll go up to his department and find him.” Her eyes darted nervously, but she nodded. The second I walked away, she pulled out her phone and called him herself. I knew for a fact he wasn’t even in the hospital. I certainly wasn’t going to waste my energy looking for him. I stood in the stairwell, watching my mother-in-law dial his number over and over again. I watched her expression shift from composed, to anxious, to sheer panic as tears streamed down her face. I couldn’t help but let a smirk curl the corner of my lips. She definitely didn’t know that her precious son had long since put his phone on silent so he could enjoy a quiet, uninterrupted dinner with his childhood sweetheart. Right before I walked into her house, Arthur had been on a video call with her. He was just trying to get her to keep me occupied so I wouldn’t interrupt his little rendezvous. Watching her pace like an ant on a hot pan, I intentionally jogged back, panting heavily. “Mom! Arthur’s colleagues said he isn’t working late today! And I can’t reach him on his phone at all!” A flash of guilt crossed her face, but she still tried to cover for him. “He… he was probably just called out for an emergency consult. If you can’t reach him, just try again in a few minutes.” Right at that moment, Arthur’s aunt (my father-in-law’s sister) and Mia’s in-laws rushed into the waiting area. The aunt looked at me, her eyebrows shooting up in immediate anger. “Where is Arthur?! Isn’t he an obstetrician here?! What good are you doing just standing there?! Why haven’t you told him to get his ass down here?!” Aunt Martha was a formidable presence. Since my father-in-law passed away, she controlled every major and minor decision in the Sterling family. In my past life, the second the doctor announced Mia’s death, before I could even process it, she slapped me hard across the face twice. “You are her sister-in-law! You’re supposed to act like a mother figure to her! How could you just stand by and watch her die?!” In this life, I certainly wasn’t going to give her that opportunity. I offered a bitter, helpless smile. “Aunt Martha, I can’t reach Arthur. He told me this morning he was working late, but I just went up to his department and his colleagues said he never came in today. I’ve been calling his phone non-stop, but he won’t answer.” My mother-in-law mumbled something under her breath but ultimately stayed silent. “Are you an idiot?! If it doesn’t go through, you keep calling! Useless!” Aunt Martha shrieked. I quickly pulled out my phone and dialed his number again and again. Finally, on the tenth try, the call connected. 2 I immediately put it on speakerphone. “Hubby…” “Are you insane?! Why the hell do you keep calling me over and over?! Didn’t I tell you I was working late?! I’m incredibly busy, do not bother me!” “Hubby, Mia fell and is hemorrhaging massively! She’s in the operating room right now! If you aren’t at the hospital, where are you?!” There was a pause on the other end, followed immediately by a sickeningly sweet, artificial female voice. “Oh, is your wife checking up on you because she doesn’t trust you? Arthur, I hope your colleagues don’t get the wrong idea. And really, Luna, if you have an issue, you should just ask Arthur directly. Going to his workplace and causing a scene is bad enough, but cursing his sister with a medical emergency? That’s just vicious.” “No, I didn’t! Arthur, Mia is literally in the operating room right now! If you don’t believe me, you can…” “Get lost! If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable! Mia is resting at her in-laws’ house, how could she possibly fall?! There’s a limit to how many jealous tantrums I’m going to tolerate! You actually went to my department to cause a scene?! If this affects my year-end promotion, I swear to God I will kill you!” Before I could say another word, he hung up. The previously murmuring waiting area outside the OR fell dead silent. I smiled bitterly, putting on a perfectly wounded expression. My mother-in-law looked away shiftily. A brief flash of awkwardness crossed Aunt Martha’s face, but she didn’t say anything. Mia’s in-laws exchanged a sigh, looking at the Sterling family with absolute disgust. Just then, the OR doors burst open. A nurse rushed out, looking frantic. “The patient is experiencing an amniotic fluid embolism! You’re Dr. Sterling’s family, right?! Someone needs to contact him immediately!” My eyes flickered. Everything was unfolding exactly as it had in my past life. My mother-in-law’s legs gave out, and she collapsed directly onto the floor. Aunt Martha couldn’t maintain her detached attitude anymore. She frantically pulled out her phone to call Arthur, muttering to herself, “It’s fine, it’s fine. Arthur is the best obstetrician here. He’s saved several patients from this before. He can definitely save Mia!” The golden window for treating an amniotic fluid embolism is terrifyingly short—barely ten minutes. It’s literally a tug-of-war with the Grim Reaper. Over the past three years, Arthur had successfully saved five patients from it, only losing one. That record was what propelled him to the top position in the central maternity department. Aunt Martha’s call connected. She screamed, sobbing hysterically, “Arthur! Get to the hospital right now! Your sister has an amniotic fluid embolism! You are the only one who can save her!” Through the phone, we could hear the sounds of children screaming and playing, and the loud, cheerful clinking of glasses. “Aunt Martha, Luna has lost her mind, and now you’re going crazy with her?! Is there an end to this drama?! I revolve my entire life around her 365 days a year, and I finally take one day to get some peace and quiet! Can you all just leave me alone?! Nothing is going on between me and Chloe! Her family is just back in town and I’m having dinner with them! For just this one day, stop calling me!” “Arthur, I am not lying to you! Your sister is really in danger! She has an amniotic fluid embolism, and right now, you are her only hope! I am begging you, Arthur, please come back! If you don’t, you’re going to regret this for the rest of your life!” “I’ll only regret it if I actually go back!” Arthur’s voice was freezing cold, completely devoid of emotion. Hearing his voice, my mother-in-law completely broke down. She grabbed the phone and wailed, “Son! Your aunt isn’t lying! Your sister is really in danger! Even if you don’t believe Luna, even if you don’t believe your aunt… do you really not believe me?! Get back here right now!” I couldn’t help but sigh internally. To me, a mother-in-law who knew her son was cheating and actively helped him cover it up was pure garbage. But to Mia, she truly was a good, devoted mother. “Arthur, did you hear your mother?! Do you think your own mother would lie to you?! Get your ass back here!” Aunt Martha was jumping with anxiety. “Mom, you…” Arthur’s voice finally sounded hesitant. “Ah! Arthur! My eye! My eye hurts so much!” A woman’s delicate cry of pain echoed through the phone, accompanied by an adult scolding a child. “How could you shoot a marble at your aunt’s face?!” Arthur’s panicked, intensely concerned voice immediately drowned out everything else. “Chloe! Does it hurt? Don’t move! I’m a doctor, let me look at it!” Then, his voice turned sharp and icy as he addressed the phone. “Mom, drop the act. Even if what you’re saying is true, it’s useless. I’ve had a lot to drink. I can’t drive, and I can’t make it back.” With that, the line went dead. The phone slipped from Aunt Martha’s hand, clattering to the floor. My mother-in-law smashed her forehead against the tiles, completely paralyzed. Aunt Martha slumped to the floor, tears streaming silently down her face, muttering over and over, “How did Arthur become like this? How could he do this? How could he abandon his own family for some woman? He’s a monster… an absolute monster…” I helped my mother-in-law up. Looking at the massive, swelling bruise on her forehead, I genuinely felt bad that she had wasted her life raising a son like that. But I didn’t pity her. Because in my past life, she was one of the primary forces that drove me to my brutal death. I don’t know how much time passed before the OR doors opened again. “I’m sorry. We did everything we could.” 3 Mia and the baby were both gone. My mother-in-law was like an empty shell. She refused to eat or drink, just sitting there clutching Mia’s clothes and sobbing. Aunt Martha was furious. She recounted the events at the hospital to every single relative she could find, viciously cursing Arthur as a soulless monster. When Mia’s in-laws found out the baby she was carrying was a boy, they cried even harder. Mia’s husband, David, rushed back from out of town that very day. When he saw the lifeless bodies of his wife and unborn child, his face twisted in agony, his eyes blood-red. He simply couldn’t accept that he had only been gone for a three-day business trip—that right before he left, they had been excitedly planning their future as a family of three—and now, she was just gone. After hearing the absolute truth from his parents, David wiped his tears and silently began helping me organize the funeral arrangements. No one even thought to notify Arthur. Especially after learning that he had been having dinner with Chloe’s family at a hotel directly across the street from the hospital, and hadn’t even bothered to walk over and verify the situation. Even his own mother had completely given up on him. But how could I possibly let Arthur miss such a lively, important event? The day before Mia was scheduled to be buried in their rural hometown, I paid someone to anonymously notify him. On the day of the burial, a light drizzle fell from the sky. I stood by the cars under an umbrella, watching the crowd carry Mia’s casket out of the mourning tent. In my past life, it was on this exact day that David hacked me to death with a machete. My blood, mixed with the rain, rolled out like a gruesome red carpet for Mia’s final journey. Before the casket even cleared the doorway, Arthur’s car screeched to a halt. He stormed out of the car, practically vibrating with rage, and charged straight toward me. I watched him with a perfectly numb, deadpan expression. I hadn’t even opened my mouth yet. Smack! He looked at the black-and-white memorial portrait I was holding and delivered a brutal slap across my face. “You vicious bitch! You actually dared to curse my sister just to trick me into coming back?!” I collapsed onto the muddy ground. The framed portrait slipped from my grasp, falling into the dirt. Mud splattered across half of Mia’s face, leaving only her cold, lifeless eyes visible, staring silently at Arthur and the rest of the world. Arthur’s eyes were bloodshot. I don’t know if it was fear or pure rage that triggered his feral instincts, but all traces of the gentle, refined doctor vanished. He looked at me like a rabid animal and lunged. “You bitch! I’ll teach you to lie! I’ll teach you to curse my sister! I’m going to beat you to death!” I didn’t fight back as Arthur kicked and punched me. I just stared at the portrait of Mia, silently thinking: Mia, make sure you take a very good look at who your real enemy is. When you get to the underworld to file your grievances, make sure you don’t accuse the wrong person. “Enough! What the hell are you doing?!” The people inside the mourning tent heard the commotion and rushed out. Aunt Martha violently shoved Arthur away, sobbing and screaming, “You absolute monster! Your sister could have been saved! We called you so many times! Your mother practically got on her knees and begged you! And just because of one word from that cheap slut, you refused to save her! You killed your own sister, and now you have the nerve to cause a scene at her funeral?! What do you want?! What the hell do you want?!” Arthur staggered backward, his face a mask of terror desperately trying to appear calm. “Aunt Martha, what are you talking about? How could Mia actually be dead? She must be faking it! How can you all be helping her lie to me?! Is it because she’s pregnant? Are you all helping her trick me for the sake of the baby?!” I curled myself into a tight ball on the muddy ground, letting the icy rain smash against my face, washing away the tears rolling down my cheeks. So, Arthur actually knew I was pregnant. “You’re all lying to me! I want to see Mia! Mia! MIA!” Arthur screamed, trying to force his way into the mourning tent. But the next second, he was forced back out. The heavy, black casket, carried by eight strong men, slowly emerged from the doorway. Chapter 2 4 “Didn’t you say you wanted to see Mia? Here she is.” Aunt Martha wiped the freezing rain from her face, pointing a trembling finger at the heavy wooden casket. Her voice was thick with biting sarcasm. Arthur stumbled toward the coffin. His legs completely gave out, and he collapsed onto the muddy ground. “Who exactly is this pathetic performance for? Your wife begged you to come back, and you said she was lying. I begged you to come back, and you said I was lying. Your own mother got on her knees and begged you to come back, and you still said she was lying! Did you really believe we were all lying to you? Or is it just that your sister’s life was completely worthless compared to having dinner with another woman?!” “No! That’s not true! Mia is my sister! I practically raised her! I loved her like she was my own daughter!” Mia and I never had a good relationship. Although she lost her father at a young age, my mother-in-law and Arthur treated her like absolute royalty. She grew up incredibly spoiled, arrogant, and entitled. Added to the fact that Arthur openly treated me with dismissive neglect, she never showed me an ounce of respect. Every time she saw me, she ordered me around with a condescending, arrogant tone. In the past, I was constantly forced to compete with her for a place in Arthur’s heart. She won every single time. Arthur defended her unconditionally, without logic or reason. Now, she had finally been forced into a competition of her own. But one single loss cost her her life. I guess this is what they call karma. Smack! Arthur’s cowardly denial completely enraged Aunt Martha. She slapped him so hard his head snapped to the side. Enduring the heavy, cramping pain in my lower abdomen, I felt nothing but a sharp thrill of satisfaction. If my body wasn’t so weak right now, I would have loved to beat him senseless myself. Someone helped me up from the mud. I clutched Mia’s black-and-white portrait and stood to the side, keeping my head down as I carefully wiped the mud from the glass. I ignored the warm blood slowly dripping down my legs, soaking my dress. My poor baby… Mommy is so sorry. Go find a mom and dad who will actually be excited for you to be born. The moment I finished wiping the portrait clean, Arthur violently shoved me again. He directed all his suffocating guilt and rage entirely onto me. “It was you! You killed my sister! She was perfectly fine at home, how could she suddenly fall?! It’s all your fault! You cursed, unlucky bitch! Give me my sister back!!!” I crashed back into the mud. The portrait shattered in a puddle, and the blood pooling at my feet grew thicker. But neither Aunt Martha nor Arthur seemed to notice. “Luna, I always knew you were jealous of Mia! You were jealous of how much I spoiled her! But she’s my biological sister! How could you murder her?! You killer! I’m going to beat you to death!” Arthur’s face was terrifyingly contorted. He looked like a rabid, feral beast, completely stripped of any human decency. He was actually acting even more unhinged than he did in my past life. But it made sense. In my past life, they had a plausible reason to blame Mia’s death on me. I was the only one waiting outside the OR, and no one else heard the phone call I made to him. He could spin the narrative however he wanted. But in this life, my mother-in-law, Aunt Martha, and Mia’s in-laws all knew exactly what he did. He had absolutely no way to shift the blame. His current outburst was just pure, humiliated rage. His lies couldn’t even convince himself anymore, so naturally, he lost control. I swallowed the retort on the tip of my tongue, covered my head, and curled up defensively. Today was the day of Mia’s burial. Even if the Sterling family didn’t care about the timing, the David’s family wouldn’t allow Arthur to delay the auspicious hour. Sure enough, as soon as the casket was loaded into the hearse, David emerged from the mourning tent, supporting his grieving parents. “Arthur, get the hell out of here! Don’t you dare pollute my wife’s path to the afterlife!”

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On my daughter’s very first day of kindergarten, the teacher unceremoniously kicked us out. “Mr. Sterling’s son has already been attending here for a year. Where did this daughter come from?” I was completely baffled. My daughter with my husband had just reached the age of enrollment. How could she possibly have been here for a year? After a quick investigation, I uncovered a chilling truth. A year ago, my husband’s new executive assistant had enrolled her own child in this exact kindergarten, masquerading under the title of “Mrs. Sterling.” When I confronted her, she casually presented a marriage certificate with my husband. “I know all about you. You’re the woman who’s been obsessively stalking my husband all these years, aren’t you?” The official seal from the registry office and their smiling photo were crystal clear. The issue date was exactly five years ago. But Julian and I had only been married for three years! 1 “Mommy, am I really a wild kid with no daddy?” Driving home, my daughter looked at me, desperately fighting back tears. My grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Of course not. Lily is Mommy and Daddy’s one and only precious baby.” The tears pooled in her eyes finally broke free, her voice trembling with profound hurt. “Then why did Auntie Chloe’s son say he’s Daddy’s baby?” “All the other kids at kindergarten were saying it too. They hit me and called me a bastard…” Looking at the faint, swollen red mark on my daughter’s cheek, my heart shattered. Today was supposed to be her very first day of school, and she was subjected to this nightmare. The most terrifying part, however, was that when I contacted Chloe Vance, she immediately texted me a photo of a marriage certificate. The man smiling next to her in the photo was the exact same man I had held in my arms countless times. The government seal was undeniably authentic, and the date was from five years ago! Yet, Julian Sterling and I had only celebrated our third anniversary. Come to think of it, Chloe’s arrival at the company was incredibly sudden. She was hired directly into the position of Julian’s executive assistant without going through the standard HR protocols. Could it be that… I didn’t dare finish the thought. I pulled out my phone and dialed Julian’s number. Instead of my husband, his male assistant answered the phone. “Mrs. Sterling, Mr. Sterling is currently in a highly sensitive corporate negotiation. All electronic devices had to be surrendered outside. If you have an urgent matter, I can relay a message when he finishes.” “Was Julian married before he met me?” The assistant froze. After I quickly explained the situation, he frantically assured me. “Ma’am, that marriage certificate has to be photoshopped! I promise you, the CEO would never dare do something like that!” After hanging up, my panic subsided slightly. It was true. Julian didn’t have the guts to pull off a double life of this magnitude. But I still needed to hear him explain it to my face. My only option right now was to head to our new house and wait for him to finish his meeting. To ensure Lily had a short commute to her elite school, Julian and I had recently purchased a massive estate in the most exclusive school district in the city. Today was the exact day we were scheduled to move in. But when my car pulled up to the grand iron gates of the estate, I was shocked. The property, which I was supposed to be personally inspecting today, was bustling with activity. Dozens of people were rushing in and out, unloading luggage that definitely did not belong to me. A massive banner was draped across the front entrance: [Congratulations on Your New Home, Mrs. Sterling!] A swarm of reporters and paparazzi were crowded around the entrance, their cameras aggressively focused on a glamorous, elegantly dressed woman. The moment I clearly saw her face, my pupils dilated in pure shock. Chloe Vance? What the hell was she doing here?! 2 The reporters excitedly shoved their microphones toward Chloe. “Ms. Vance! Is the marriage certificate you posted on your social media real?! Did you retire from the entertainment industry five years ago because you found true love?!” I immediately opened my phone. The trending topics were already exploding. [#ChloeVance #JulianSterling] [#ChloeVanceRevealsMarriageCertificate] [#JulianSterling: The Love Hidden for Five Years is Finally Revealed] I clicked the top trending post. It was the exact same marriage certificate Chloe had texted me earlier. The caption read: [Yes, we’ve been happily married for five years.] The comments section was an absolute madhouse. [Ahhhh! I KNEW IT! Our goddess didn’t retire just to avoid competing with that pathetic try-hard, Mia Harrison!] [Are you kidding me? Chloe is a national treasure. That irrelevant D-lister Mia hasn’t achieved anything in three years.] [I’m a kindergarten teacher! Mia Harrison literally brought a kid to my school today claiming it was CEO Sterling’s! It was the funniest thing I’ve seen all year! Hahahaha!] [Oh my god, how delusional do you have to be?] [Before the goddess retired, that desperate Mia was already trying to hook up with CEO Sterling! Bet she never expected he was already married to the goddess! Karma! Hahaha!!] [Wuu-wuu… So she didn’t come back for five years because she was secretly living her happily ever after. We love you, goddess!] “What is all this garbage? Throw it out. Julian will be upset if he sees this clutter when he gets home.” Chloe, draped in an expensive cashmere shawl, pinched her nose in disgust as she pointed at a collection of pristine, antique items. The movers immediately began tossing my belongings into a massive dumpster outside. These were priceless antiques and calligraphy scrolls I had spent years meticulously sourcing from around the world, now lying in the dirt alongside actual garbage. “Stop right there!” I lunged forward, physically restraining the mover’s arm, and glared furiously at Chloe. “Who do you think you are? What gives you the right to break into my house?!” “Oh my god, that desperate Mia actually had the nerve to show up?” “Hey, are you blind? Can’t you read the banner? ‘Congratulations Mrs. Sterling.’ Who the hell are you? Are you Mrs. Sterling? Hilarious!” “Has her delusion progressed to the point where she’s trying to claim other people’s real estate now? This is psychotic.” “This estate has to be worth at least nine figures. She’s just desperate for clout. That’s how pathetic she is.” Smack! I delivered a vicious, full-force slap across the face of the reporter gossiping closest to me. “Who the hell do you think you are?! Did you get my permission to trespass on my property?” I violently swatted his camera out of his hands, grabbed his collar, and shoved him toward the gate. “Get out!” “Stop!” A delicate, manicured hand suddenly blocked my path. Chloe furrowed her perfectly shaped brows, her delicate face projecting a mask of stern authority. “Ms. Harrison, while I consider myself a very easygoing person, that does not give you the right to cause a violent scene on my property!” 3 “She’s lost her mind! This delusional stalker actually has the nerve to throw a tantrum on the goddess’s property! Does she seriously think she owns this place?!” “Ha! She really convinced herself she’s Mrs. Sterling, huh? What a joke.” I shot Chloe a look of pure, unfiltered disgust. “Move. My home doesn’t welcome outsiders, and that includes you.” Chloe stepped protectively in front of the reporter I had just slapped, her frown deepening dramatically. “Ms. Harrison, I’m well aware you’ve always harbored a grudge against me because of my husband. I don’t hold that against you.” “Today is the day I move into my new home. If you came to offer your congratulations, you are still welcome as my guest.” “But if you insist on being stubborn, unreasonable, and violent on my property, don’t blame me for kicking you out!” She stood there wearing a stunning, vintage-inspired qipao with a white cashmere shawl draped over her shoulders, perched on designer stilettos. She looked absolutely ethereal and elegant. Her crisp, authoritative voice instantly won over everyone present. The cameras flashed aggressively in our direction. “Ahhh, is this the power of a true goddess? I’m dead! Her charisma is intoxicating!” “Wuu-wuu… Where else can you find a celebrity this polite but with such strong boundaries?! I’d gladly be her loyal dog for the rest of my life!” “If I were the goddess, seeing this delusional stalker impersonate my identity and crash my new home, I would have had my bodyguards beat her face in and throw her onto the street!” Outwardly, Chloe maintained her poised, elegant demeanor, but the corner of her mouth twitched into a subtle, incredibly smug smirk. When she looked back at me, she tilted her chin up slightly, dripping with condescension. “Given our past working relationship, Ms. Harrison, I strongly suggest you stop causing trouble.” Smack! My hand connected squarely with her cheek, leaving a stark red handprint. I slammed the property deed directly onto her chest and grabbed her by the collar of her expensive dress. “Look very closely! This is my property, not yours! I haven’t even settled the score with you for stealing my daughter’s spot at kindergarten, and now you’re trying to hijack my estate?!” “You are nothing but my husband’s assistant! Who gave you the audacity to throw a psychotic tantrum in the owner’s house?!” “Ah!” She clutched her face and doubled over. Her stilettos wobbled precariously, and her voice trembled with manufactured terror. “Help! Someone help me~” “Have you absolutely no shame?!” Someone suddenly reached out and shoved me violently from behind, nearly ripping off my acrylic nails. “Crashing someone else’s house to throw a tantrum—is this how you farm engagement?! I’ve been sick of you for a long time! If I wasn’t worried about ruining the goddess’s big day, I would have dealt with you the second you walked in!” “Claiming the goddess is just your husband’s assistant? Do you really think we’re afraid to put our hands on you?!” I dug my heels in, stabilizing myself, and gripped my phone tightly. I let out a cold, sharp laugh. “Go ahead! I’ve already called the police. If you have the guts to lay a hand on me, do it!” Hearing this, a subtle, panicked shift crossed Chloe’s face. But the rabid reporters quickly drowned out any hesitation. “Ha! You’re the one trespassing and causing a scene! When the cops get here, you’re the one getting arrested! Get the hell out of here right now! The goddess shouldn’t have to look at trash like you!” As they yelled, several men grabbed my arms, aggressively trying to drag me toward the gates. I lost my balance, stumbling backward, about to crash hard onto the pavement. “What is going on here?!” A crisp, authoritative voice rang out. Hearing it, my head snapped up instantly. 4 “Oh my god! It’s the estate’s new estate manager!” “I recognize her! I recognize her! Our paper just did a massive feature on her! She’s the brilliant female executive who fought her way out of poverty in the mountains!” Seeing Sarah walk toward us, a surge of desperate hope filled my chest. “Sarah! Hurry! Tell them the truth! Tell them whose house this is!” Sarah was a brilliant young woman I had personally sponsored through her entire college education. Because of her exceptional capabilities, the moment she graduated, I hired her with a highly lucrative salary to manage my new estate. If it was her, she could definitely clear my name. “Sarah…” Chloe’s expression faltered visibly. I shot Chloe a freezing glare and grabbed Sarah’s hand firmly. “Sarah, tell them exactly who owns this estate.” “Ma’am…” The hand I was gripping struggled slightly, then forcefully pulled away. Sarah offered me a strained, awkward smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t recall inviting you here.” “Sarah?” I stared at her, genuinely thinking I had misheard. But Sarah had already walked over to Chloe. She gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind Chloe’s ear, her voice dripping with sycophantic concern. “Madam, are you alright?” “Madam…” I felt like the ground had dropped out from beneath me. I lunged forward, grabbing Sarah by the arm, forcing her to look me in the eye. “Do you not recognize me?! I’m Mia! I’m the one who sponsored your entire education!” Sarah acted as if she were absolutely terrified. Her previously confident smile crumbled into a mask of pathetic grievance. “I-I’m sorry… but the person who sponsored me has always been Mrs. Sterling…” I was so furious I was practically shaking. “I am Mrs. Sterling! I literally attended your college graduation ceremony last month! You recognized me perfectly fine back then!” “I… I didn’t… I don’t know what you’re talking about…” Tears instantly welled up in Sarah’s eyes, her voice cracking into fragile, broken pieces. “Enough!” A hand violently slapped my grip away. Chloe shielded Sarah behind her, glaring at me with deep, righteous indignation. “I know you hate me for stealing Julian from you! This is between the two of us! If you have a problem, take it up with me! Why are you targeting an innocent girl?!” 5 “Oh my god, this is how a true philanthropist acts!” “Exactly! Anyone who genuinely cares about their sponsor treats them like their own child! Who would violently grab them and interrogate them like that?!” “I’m literally crying right now. The goddess is not only generous, she’s so incredibly kind! She deserves a lifetime of happiness with CEO Sterling!” “What is wrong with this Mia bitch?! Trying to steal the goddess’s man wasn’t enough, now she’s trying to steal credit for the goddess’s charity work?! How can a human being be this vile?!” The cameras flashed relentlessly, blinding me. I stared at Sarah hiding behind Chloe, completely unable to process the betrayal. “Sarah…” Sarah’s eyes darted around guiltily, actively avoiding my gaze. She blinked rapidly, tears already clinging to her eyelashes. “Ma’am, I truly don’t know who you are. Please, I’m begging you, stop doing this to me…” “Mia!” Chloe pulled Sarah closer, looking at me with fierce, protective vigilance. “I… I will not let you hurt this girl!” With a few loose strands of hair framing her face, her eyes shone with an extraordinary, unyielding resilience. She looked exactly like a tragically misunderstood, yet incredibly strong heroine from a movie. “Wuu-wuu… The goddess is so pitiful! It’s all that psychotic bitch’s fault!” “I can’t take this anymore! I am going to teach this bitch a lesson she’ll never forget!” “Hey, wait! Don’t just focus on the bitch! I’ve seen her car in the goddess’s social media posts! I bet she’s trying to claim the car is hers too!” “Get her! Smash that piece of trash car!” “NO!” My heart stopped. But a few men had already spun around, sprinting toward my car. They grabbed heavy metal poles from the moving truck and violently smashed them into my windshield. From inside the car, my daughter let out a blood-curdling, terrified scream. “Fuck! A bitch’s daughter is just a little bitch! Shut the fuck up! If you don’t stop crying, I’ll drag you out here and beat you too!” “LILY!” I screamed, lunging forward to try and save her, but a stiletto suddenly shot out, deliberately tripping me. I crashed hard onto the pavement. Chloe crossed her arms, looking down at me with absolute, freezing contempt, a cold smirk playing on her lips. Immediately, several people hauled me up by my arms, and a brutal slap cracked across my face. “The goddess gave you a chance to leave, but you refused! You just had to get your ass beat to finally get the message, huh?!” “You psychotic bitch! I’m going to beat you to death today!” The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. I lunged forward and viciously bit down on one of the men’s hands. He shrieked in agony and violently yanked his hand back. I gritted my teeth, ripped the wedding ring off my finger, and hurled it directly into his face. “I am Julian Sterling’s legal wife! You will pay the ultimate price for what you are doing today!” Someone caught the ring. The moment they looked at it, their face drained of color. “The ‘Vow of the Stars’? The record-breaking, multi-million dollar ring CEO Sterling won at auction? There’s only one in the world. How does she have it?” “Wait, that’s not right… Didn’t CEO Sterling say he bought it to use as his wedding ring?” I spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, glaring at them with lethal intensity. “Let me go right now, and I might consider not pressing charges.” “Ha! Do you really think you can scam us with such a cheap, pathetic knockoff?” An almost identical ‘Vow of the Stars’ was suddenly tossed onto the pavement next to me. Chloe pulled the real ring from her designer bag, looking at me with profound disgust. “Ms. Harrison, I never imagined your obsession with me would escalate to this level. Even a replica of the ‘Vow of the Stars’ must have cost a fortune.” My breath hitched in my throat. “Impossible… He won that at auction and personally placed it on my finger. Where the hell did you get a replica?!” Smack! Another slap landed on my face. Chloe’s brow furrowed in deep, exhausted frustration. “I am so sick of this! I gave you chance after chance, and you still insist on harassing me and my husband!” She pulled a thick stack of documents from her bag and threw them aggressively at my head. “Take a good look! See who the real homewrecker is!” A marriage certificate fluttered to the ground, landing perfectly open right in front of my eyes. The marriage certificate I had originally assumed was photoshopped… was lying tangibly right in front of me. In the photo, the man was smiling brightly, leaning intimately against Chloe. Julian… With trembling fingers, I picked up the scattered photos, one by one. From childhood to adulthood, from college campus to corporate office, from awkward youth to polished maturity… They were holding hands running to school, Chloe’s ice cream had a massive bite taken out of it by Julian, and they were leaning against each other under the neon lights of a theme park, smiling the happiest smiles I had ever seen… They… they had known each other for a very long time… They had been married… for five years… My three-year marriage instantly dissolved into a pathetic, humiliating joke. Chloe tossed my car keys directly at my face, her voice devoid of emotion. “I won’t keep you any longer. You’re on your own now.” “Lily?” A familiar, panicked voice suddenly cut through the chaos. “What the hell are you people doing?! Stop right now!” It was Julian’s voice. Accompanied by the blaring sirens of arriving police cars.

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At three in the morning, I got up to use the bathroom. Within minutes, my downstairs neighbor had turned on a floor-vibrating device, claiming that the sound of my toilet flushing was “maliciously disturbing her sleep.” She kept it running for three straight days. I didn’t argue. I didn’t scream. I simply packed my bags and moved out, letting my younger sister—who was in the middle of a high-stress final semester before her Ivy League applications—stay there instead. By the next evening, my phone was blowing up with frantic calls from the neighbors and the building manager. They were begging me to come back. 1 When I first moved into the Sapphire Springs complex, my downstairs neighbor, Mrs. Higgins, was at my door before I’d even unpacked my second box. She told me she was a “pathologically light sleeper” and that she despised noise of any kind. She made it sound like a medical condition, a fragile state of being I was obligated to protect. To keep the peace, I spent a small fortune on thick, high-end rugs for every single room that same afternoon. After that, I lived like a ghost. I never wore shoes inside. My phone stayed on silent. I hadn’t turned on the television in months. I timed my laundry and vacuuming strictly for the hours she was out of the house. I thought I was being the perfect neighbor. I thought I was being kind. Then came the night I couldn’t hold it until dawn. Less than sixty seconds after I flushed the toilet, there was a violent pounding on my front door. It was so aggressive I thought the wood might splinter. My heart hammered against my ribs, all traces of sleep vanishing as I pulled the door open. Mrs. Higgins stood there, her face contorted with a suburban sort of rage. She pointed a trembling finger at me. “Are you out of your mind? It’s the middle of the night! Are you trying to kill me with that racket?” I blinked, stunned. “Mrs. Higgins, I… I just used the bathroom.” Her eyes bugged out. “The bathroom? You couldn’t wait until the sun was up? The pipes sounded like a damn thunderstorm! I was finally in a deep sleep, and you snatched it away from me. You knew I was sensitive. You did this on purpose just to spite me!” I felt a surge of disbelief. “I’m not allowed to use the bathroom in my own home?” She stepped closer, her breath smelling of peppermint and resentment. “Don’t you dare get smart with me! This is about basic decency. You’re selfish, low-class, and clearly have no respect for anyone but yourself. I’m telling you now—this isn’t over!” She spat a bitter “Pathetic” at my feet and stormed back toward the stairs. I went back to my room, shaking my head, trying to tell myself she was just eccentric and tired. I climbed back into bed, pulled the duvet up, and closed my eyes. Then, the floor began to hum. It started as a low throb, then escalated into a rhythmic, violent thud-thud-thud that felt like a sledgehammer hitting the floorboards from below. It was a ceiling vibrator—a “revenge device” people buy online to harass their neighbors. My bed began to shake. The pendant light above me swayed. The vibration didn’t just rattle the furniture; it rattled my skull. 2 It was insanity. I had never imagined that a single flush of a toilet would lead to such calculated psychological warfare. The sound was unbearable. No matter how deep I buried my head under the pillows or how tight I jammed my earplugs, the vibration hummed through my bones like a swarm of angry hornets. While my head felt like it was splitting open, the building’s private community app—The Sapphire Circle—started lighting up. “What is that noise? It’s 3 AM! Some of us have work!” “It sounds like construction. Who is the jerk doing renovations in the middle of the night?” “My walls are literally vibrating. My kids are crying. Make it stop!” In the middle of the chaos, Mrs. Higgins chimed in. “If you want someone to blame, look at Apartment 703. She’s been up all night making noise just to harass me. I had to take matters into my own hands to give her a taste of her own medicine. Maybe now she’ll learn some respect.” The group chat exploded. “703, what the hell is wrong with you? Why are you picking fights at this hour?” “I hate neighbors like this. No class, no consideration. You’re ruining the whole building’s vibe.” “@Unit703, you’re young. Learn some manners. Apologize to Mrs. Higgins and stop the noise before the police get involved!” “Seriously, one bad apple ruins the bunch. I can’t believe I pay this much in HOA fees to live next to a sociopath.” I stared at the screen, my fingers trembling as I read the insults. Since the day I moved in, I had been more than a neighbor; I had been a martyr to her “sensitivity.” I’d lived in total silence, avoiding even the crunch of a potato chip for her sake. And now, I was the “sociopath”? I typed a reply, my heart racing. “I wasn’t making noise. I used the bathroom once. She came up and screamed at me, and now she’s using a vibration device to retaliate. I’m the one being harassed here!” Immediately, a notification popped up. Mrs. Higgins had posted a voice note. “You think you’re so entitled, don’t you?” her voice crackled, dripping with condescension. “You couldn’t just drink less water before bed? You couldn’t just hold it? You know I have a nervous condition! If my blood pressure spikes because of your selfishness, you’ll be hearing from my lawyer. You’re a disgrace. I can only imagine how poorly you were raised.” The neighbors didn’t care about the truth. They just wanted the noise to stop. “703, just apologize. Stop being difficult.” “Yeah, just fix it. I have a 6 AM shift. This is on you.” 3 The physical vibration and the digital stoning were too much. My vision blurred with tears of pure frustration. I wasn’t the one breaking the rules. I wasn’t the one torturing the building. Why was the burden of peace on my shoulders? I knew Mrs. Higgins had lived here for a decade. She’d spent years cultivating relationships with the “old guard” of the building. To them, she was the pillar of the community, and I was just the millennial interloper. I turned off my phone and sat in the dark, vibrating chair until the sun came up. At 9 AM sharp, I walked into the building manager’s office. Mr. Miller sat behind his mahogany desk, slowly sipping a latte. He looked up at me with a tired, practiced smile. “I’ve heard about the… situation, Ms. Sterling.” “Then you know it’s illegal,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “She is using a device to intentionally disturb my peace and compromise the integrity of the building. You need to tell her to turn it off.” Mr. Miller sighed, leaning back. “Look, neighbor disputes are tricky. It’s really best if you two work it out between yourselves.” “This isn’t a dispute! This is an assault on my living space!” He waved a dismissive hand. “Now, let’s be fair. I spoke with Mrs. Higgins. She’s a founding member of our community, and frankly, she’s my aunt’s best friend. She says you’ve been loud for weeks. Last night was just the final straw for her.” I was speechless. “I have rugs over every inch of my floor! I don’t even use my speakers! I flushed a toilet, Mr. Miller. One time!” “Enough,” he said, his tone sharpening. “Mrs. Higgins is a respectable woman. You’re new here. Maybe you should try to be a bit more accommodating. Try not to get up in the night. The pipes in this building are old, after all.” The realization hit me like a physical blow. Mrs. Higgins wasn’t just established; she was protected. “So you’re saying you won’t do anything?” I asked, my voice cold. “I’m saying you should look at your own behavior first,” he replied, turning back to his computer. “It takes two to tango, Ms. Sterling.” I didn’t argue further. I walked out. Mrs. Higgins kept the vibrator running for three days straight. I’m a freelance editor and novelist. My home is my workspace. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t focus, and the constant thrumming was giving me migraines that made me want to claw my eyes out. I called the police, but when they arrived, she simply turned the device off. She played the “sweet old lady” part to perfection, and as soon as the squad car turned the corner, the pounding began again. She even sent me a text: “If you can’t handle the heat, move out. Otherwise, get used to it.” Move out? Fine. I hope you’re ready for what comes next. 4 That afternoon, I checked into a quiet boutique hotel nearby. Then, I called my sister, Riley. “Hey, remember how you wanted to stay at my place for a few weeks to study for your exams away from the chaos of Mom’s house?” Riley’s voice perked up instantly. “The place with the floor-to-ceiling windows and the quiet neighborhood? Seriously? You said no before because you didn’t want me to ‘disturb’ the old lady downstairs.” I smiled, though there was no warmth in it. “I’ve changed my mind. The place is all yours. You can move in tonight.” Riley was a straight-A student, the kind of girl who looked like a Sunday School teacher but had the tactical mind of a chess grandmaster and a hobby for tinkering with acoustics and electronics. She was the “golden child” of the family, but she was also the most vengeful person I knew if she felt someone she loved was being wronged. “I’ll be there by six,” she promised. I met her at the entrance of the building. She looked every bit the innocent student—braided hair, oversized college sweatshirt, and a backpack so full of “study materials” it looked like it could anchor a ship. “Thanks, sis,” she chirped, giving me a hug. “I really need the ‘peace and quiet.’” As we stepped into the elevator, the doors almost closed on Mrs. Higgins. She stepped in, clutching a bag of groceries, and immediately began scanning Riley with a look of pure disdain. “Leaving already?” Mrs. Higgins sneered at me. “I thought you had more ‘integrity’ than that. And who is this? Another little brat to stomp around?” I looked her dead in the eye and smiled. “This is my sister, Riley. She’s an honors student. She’s here to focus on her studies, so please… try to be a good neighbor.” A couple of other neighbors in the elevator chuckled. “Focus on her studies?” one of them whispered loudly. “Good luck with that. The girl will be crying for her mother by midnight once the shaking starts.” “I give her two days,” another muttered. “Actually, I bet she’s out by morning.” I didn’t say a word. I just walked Riley to the door, handed her the keys, and left. Back at my hotel, I pulled the blackout curtains shut and sank into the soft, motionless bed. For the first time in days, my head didn’t throb. Joanne Higgins, I thought as I drifted off, I hope you enjoy your new neighbor. Your ‘peace’ is about to become a very loud memory. I slept for twelve hours straight. I woke up the next morning to my phone vibrating—not from a device under the floor, but from a literal avalanche of notifications. The community app was a war zone. Mr. Miller had called me seventeen times. I hit ‘accept’ on the eighteenth call. “Ms. Sterling!” Mr. Miller’s voice was high-pitched, bordering on a sob. “Thank God! Mrs. Higgins… she’s sorry! She says she’ll never use the device again! Please, for the love of God, you have to come back and take your sister home! Everything is falling apart!” 5 I listened to Mr. Miller’s frantic, cracking voice and leisurely rolled over in my plush hotel bed. I checked my nails. “Mr. Miller, it’s quite early,” I said, my voice thick with mock-sleepiness. “And you wouldn’t believe it—since I moved out, I’ve been sleeping like a baby. No floor-vibrators, no harassment. It’s been heaven.” “Ms. Sterling, please! You don’t understand!” he stammered, his voice jumping an octave. “The building… the whole wing is about to explode! The neighbors are losing their minds! I’m begging you, come down here right now!” “My apartment?” I asked, feigning confusion. “What could possibly be happening? My sister is a quiet, studious girl. She’s probably just reading her textbooks. How much noise could a teenager make?” Mr. Miller sounded like he was on the verge of a breakdown. “How much noise? I can’t even describe it over the phone! Please, just come! Mrs. Higgins is a mess. We’ve confiscated her device—we’ll smash it in front of you if you want! Just make it stop!” I hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know, Mr. Miller. Riley is at a critical point in her SAT prep. I shouldn’t really disturb her flow. Besides, we all need to ‘accommodate’ each other, right? That’s what you told me. It takes two to tango.” 6 “This isn’t a tango!” Miller yelled. “It’s a massacre! The old lady in 704 says her heart can’t take it. The people in 702 have already called the cops three times, but the cops say they can’t find the source! You’re the only one who can talk to her!” I smiled at the ceiling. Riley was always overachieving. “Is it really that bad?” I asked innocently. “Maybe there’s a misunderstanding? My sister is very shy. I’d hate for her to be intimidated by a group of angry adults.” “Misunderstanding? Ms. Sterling, I am literally bowing to you through the phone! I’ll waive your HOA fees for six months! I’ll give you the premium parking spot by the elevator! Just. Come. Back!” “Well,” I said, “since you’re being so sincere, I’ll see what I can do. But I have some work to finish first. I’ll be there in a few hours.” I hung up before he could wail again. I took a long, hot shower. I had a slow breakfast. I watched the news. I waited until the “urgent” notifications on the app turned into genuine expressions of existential dread. The fire was burning. It was time to go see the ashes.

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On our wedding anniversary, my husband, who had never cooked a day in his life, prepared a table full of dishes. With every bite I took, my husband, Liam, asked detailed questions and carefully jotted down notes. During the meal, he stepped into the bedroom to answer a phone call. It was the specific ringtone he set for his assistant, Chloe. I casually picked up the notebook he left behind, only to find it filled with detailed notes that had absolutely nothing to do with me. “The green beans are a bit undercooked, Chloe probably won’t like them.” “The mushrooms are too salty, remember to use less salt when making this for Chloe.” “The lamb is too gamey, swap it for beef when cooking for Chloe.” Liam returned and reached for the notebook, freezing when he saw it in my hands: “Mia, were you raised in a barn? Did I say you could touch my things?” Before I could respond, a splitting headache hit me, and my vision of Liam began to double. “Liam, I don’t feel so well. I think the green beans were undercooked…” “I better write that down quickly, need to cook them longer when I make them for Chloe.” Ignoring me completely, Liam hastily scribbled in his notebook while walking toward the door. “I need to head out. Your immune system is strong; if you feel sick, just take some medicine.” Before passing out, I managed to call my husband one last time, but his impatient voice snapped through the phone: “What’s the big deal? Are you dying? Call me when you’re dead!” Liam, I’ll never call you again. I stared at the disconnected call, my mind echoing with the horrific words Liam had just said. “Are you dying? Call me when you’re dead!” I fought down the bile rising in my throat, forcing my failing body to stay upright just long enough to dial 911 with my last ounce of strength. As it turns out, sometimes emergency dispatch is far more reliable than Liam. The doctor said I was suffering from both raw green bean and mushroom poisoning. Thank God the ambulance arrived quickly. A few minutes later, and I wouldn’t have been lying safely in this hospital bed. While receiving IV fluids in the hospital bed, my phone suddenly rang. Once my grogginess cleared, I picked it up. It was Liam. “Mia, do you think the beef stir-fry tastes better with or without scallions?” His question stunned me. After a moment, I managed a weak smile and spoke softly: “Liam, I’m in the hospital.” He sounded annoyed: “Yeah, alright, just get the doctor to prescribe some extra medicine.” Without skipping a beat, he returned to his previous question: “Hurry up and tell me, with or without scallions?” Before I could speak, a woman’s voice drifted through the receiver: “Liam, as long as you make it, I’ll love it, with or without scallions.” In a flash, the call ended. I stared blankly at the disconnected phone. Two messages popped up. “An urgent project came up at the company, I have to work overtime. I’ll be back tomorrow.” “Get extra medicine at the hospital. Let me know if you need me to transfer you some money.” Looking at the words on the screen, it felt like my heart was violently squeezed. Urgent overtime? Just get extra medicine? How could someone be this dismissive? This time, I just set the phone down and didn’t reply. I lay in the hospital bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. A little girl was occupying the bed next to mine. Seeing me sitting in silence, she giggled, hopped over, and rested her chin on her hands, watching me: “Big sister, why are you all alone?” “When my mom was in the hospital, my dad stayed with her the whole time. Where’s your husband?” I looked at the innocent little girl and said softly, “My husband?” “I don’t have a husband.” Hearing this, the little girl stood up abruptly, planted her hands on her hips, her face turning red: “Liar! I saw it! You have a wedding photo with a big brother tucked inside your phone case!” “Adults aren’t supposed to lie! If you lie, your nose will grow huge!” “Sister, your husband is so handsome! Can I see the picture of you two again?!” The little girl’s words brought me to a sudden halt. In all the years Liam and I had been together, the only photo we had was the one in my phone case. Liam said he hated taking pictures, so in all these years, we only took one—on the day we got our marriage certificate. The little girl’s mother must have noticed my discomfort. She quickly pulled the girl away, smiling apologetically: “Kids are just like that, please don’t mind her.” I waved my hand, not saying anything. I picked up my phone again and started scrolling mindlessly. The moment I opened Instagram, I saw a story Chloe had posted just a minute ago. It was just a screenshot of Liam’s Instagram story, with the caption: “Loving you is the best choice I’ve ever made.” Seeing Liam’s story, I froze. With trembling fingers, I tapped on Liam’s profile. Before me, his profile showed “Only visible for three days,” and there was absolutely nothing there. Acting on a bizarre impulse, I logged into my burner account and clicked on Liam’s profile again. In that moment, I saw it. I saw everything. His latest post was from ten minutes ago. It contained two pictures: one of Liam and Chloe pressing their cheeks together intimately, and the other of a table full of food. I stared at the food. It was the exact same spread he had “cooked for me” earlier today. The caption read: “Happy birthday. For you, I am willing to do anything.” And pinned to the top of Liam’s profile was a photo of him and Chloe against a red background—the style used for marriage certificates. The timestamp was three years ago. I looked at the photo of Liam and Chloe with the red background, then pulled our marriage certificate photo out from my phone case. The contrast was jarring. In his photo with Chloe, Liam was smiling with profound tenderness. In our photo, Liam looked impatient. We had even gotten into a minor argument that day. With shaking fingers, I scrolled through Liam’s posts, one by one. He posted almost every single day, sometimes multiple times a day. I tapped randomly on one photo: Liam and Chloe kissing passionately under fireworks. I remembered that day. It was New Year’s Eve. I had waited for him in the plaza with a bouquet of flowers for hours, only to receive a text saying he was working late and telling me to go to bed. So that night, we were in the exact same plaza. While I stood shivering in the freezing wind holding flowers, they were kissing in each other’s arms. I clicked on another photo: Liam and Chloe kissing at the peak of a Ferris wheel. I remembered that day too. I had a severe fever and begged him to bring me some medicine. I called him repeatedly before he finally answered. When he eventually came home, he tossed me a box of digestive pills. Now, seeing this post, I understood. He hadn’t bought those digestive pills for me. He bought them for Chloe and just grabbed an extra box for me as an afterthought. My eyes red, I clicked on another picture: The two of them taking Chloe’s dog to the vet for deworming. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that day. My grandmother was critically ill, clinging to life. Before she passed, she held my hand, pleading to see her grandson-in-law one last time. I called Liam over and over again. When he finally picked up, his voice was laced with irritation: “I had a sudden work emergency. I’m out of town on a business trip. What do you expect me to do? I can’t make it back.” So, while I was calling him from the hospital, he was literally across the street at the veterinary clinic. Looking at the endless stream of posts, my heart turned completely to ice. So, every time I offered understanding, it was met with another lie. My phone suddenly buzzed with a message from Chloe: “Mia, Liam and I were just so busy eating, we only just remembered you went to the hospital. He asked me to transfer you some money for your medicine.” “Liam said if we don’t send you money, you’ll just start throwing a tantrum for no reason. Mia, just accept the money.” I stared at the $10 transfer on the screen, smirked, and hit decline. “Keep it. Buy yourself a birthday present.” “After all, that’s exactly what you’re worth.” Less than a minute after I sent the message, Liam called. As soon as I answered, before I could even speak, Liam started yelling: “Mia, are you sick in the head?!” “Chloe was nice enough to remember to send you money for medicine! If you don’t appreciate it, fine, but why the hell are you being so passive-aggressive?!” “I’m handing the phone to Chloe right now. You are going to apologize to her properly. Today is her birthday, don’t you dare ruin her good mood!” Listening to the accusations and complaints pouring through the phone, I smirked and said softly, “Liam, why exactly should I apologize?” “Mia, do you seriously think you’re in the right?!” “What is wrong with you lately, Mia?! You know Chloe grew up poor, and you use money to mock her?!” “Mia, you are going to apologize to Chloe. Right. Now!” When I remained silent, Liam’s tone became even more aggressive: “Fine! You refuse to apologize to Chloe?!” “Then you are never spending another dime of my money! You looked down on the money she sent you, didn’t you?!” “When you finally figure things out and apologize to Chloe, I’ll consider forgiving you! Think long and hard about what you’ve done!” And with that, he hung up before I could say another word. Less than ten minutes later, I received a notification that Liam had frozen all the credit cards in my name. I lay in the hospital bed, looking out the window, my eyes filled with bitterness. The little girl next to me blinked, her face full of sympathy: “Big sister, did you have a fight with your brother?” “Big sister, what did you do wrong? Why is he being so mean?” I forced a smile and said softly, “Sometimes, a person can do absolutely nothing wrong, but in the eyes of certain people, they’re still the one to blame.” The little girl looked at me, completely confused. “I don’t understand, I don’t understand.” “But I do know that my mom told me my own freedom and happiness are the most important things in the world!” Her words made me freeze. I stared blankly at the little girl. She was right. My own freedom and happiness were the most important things. I lay there, turning my head to look out the window, my eyes filled with a profound loneliness. Perhaps I was just too exhausted lately; I actually drifted off into a deep sleep. I was woken up by a nurse telling me I needed to renew my hospitalization fees. I instinctively reached for my debit card, but realizing Liam had frozen all my accounts, I smiled wryly and said softly, “There’s no need. I’m checking out today.” “Wait, big sister, you’re leaving today?” The little girl from the next bed skipped into the room, hugging a small robot that looked incredibly familiar. “Little girl, where did you get that robot?” “You mean this? The wife of one of the big brothers here is in the hospital. To keep us kids quiet so we wouldn’t disturb her rest, he gave every single one of us one of these!” “Big sister, do you like it too? If you really like it, I can give it to you!” “Hey, weird… I just realized that big brother looks a lot like the guy in your phone case picture…” With every word the little girl spoke, my heart grew colder. Until she said that last sentence. I suddenly felt weak, stumbling backward and collapsing onto the bed, my face deathly pale. I knew that robot all too well. After Liam and I got together, we dedicated ourselves to developing a highly sensitive specialized diagnostic robot. Creating this specific robot had been our shared dream for years. The truth was, I potentially carried a rare, genetic family disease. Back then, Liam had looked at me with red eyes and promised, “I have the company, and you have the technical skills. We’ll build a robot to accurately detect your genetic markers. I swear, you’re going to live a long, long life.” Over the years, I had tried countless times, and finally, a year ago, I successfully developed this robot. The unique thing about this highly sensitive robot was that once it was activated, it could never be reset to its initial state. I had been waiting for the perfect moment to test these prototypes. There were only a handful of them in existence, and now, Liam had just handed them all out as toys. When I finally snapped out of it, my hands shook as I dialed Liam’s number. It took a long time for him to answer. His voice dripped with impatience: “What? Did you finally figure it out? Are you calling to apologize?” “By the way, Mia, you did that on purpose, didn’t you? Why didn’t you tell me the green bean poisoning was that severe? Do you have any idea that because of you, Chloe got poisoned too?!” Listening to the endless stream of blame and complaints, my eyes filled with utter desolation: “When I told you I was poisoned and asked you to take me to the hospital, what exactly did you say?” Perhaps because I had spent the last ten years yielding to his every whim, my sudden pushback actually silenced him for a moment. After a pause, his voice returned, completely dismissive: “Are you two the same? How can you even compare yourself to Chloe?” “Chloe was born with a weak constitution. Green bean poisoning could literally kill her! You’re different. You’re as strong as an ox, how could anything happen to you? Besides, aren’t you perfectly fine right now?” “Alright, enough of this nonsense. I’m very busy, Mia. If you aren’t going to apologize, I’m hanging up!” I looked at the robot in the little girl’s hands and asked slowly, “Did you give away all my robots?” “Yeah, so what?” “They’re just a few robots, you can just build some more, right?” Hearing his utterly unbothered tone, all my suppressed emotions finally exploded: “Liam! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?! Those robots are unique! Once they’re casually activated, they’re completely ruined! You just destroyed almost ten years of my hard work!” “Mia, are you sick in the head?! Why are you yelling at me?! It’s just a damn robot, is it really that serious?!” “Actually, since you brought it up, I’m informing you right now: starting today, your robotics project is suspended. When Chloe is discharged, you will hand the entire project over to her.” “Why?” Perhaps sensing I was losing control, Liam sighed and explained with strained patience: “Chloe is new. She needs an opportunity to prove herself. You’ve been at the company for almost ten years; you don’t need this kind of opportunity anymore.” “Stop being so jealous and petty. You need to support the younger generation more.” “Alright, I’m done talking. I have work to do.” Before I could say another word, Liam hung up the phone. I sat on the edge of the bed, gripping my hands tightly together, trying desperately to suppress the churning in my chest. My eyes were filled with absolute agony. I never imagined—I truly never imagined—that Liam could become this kind of person. The man who once had tears in his eyes, telling me he loved me, promising he’d sacrifice anything to build this robot for me, swearing he wanted me to live a long life… was now asking me, “Is it really that serious?” I shook my head, desperately trying to clear the chaotic thoughts from my mind. I stood up, packed my things, and walked out of the hospital room. As soon as I stepped into the hallway, I immediately spotted Liam from behind. He was carefully supporting Chloe. Even without seeing his face, I could feel his intense anxiety and care for her. Perhaps sensing my gaze, Liam suddenly turned his head, our eyes locking instantly. The moment he saw me, a flash of panic crossed his eyes. I ignored him, turned around, and headed toward the exit. I didn’t expect him to actually chase after me. He grabbed my wrist from behind, his eyes filled with mockery: “What? You tracked me all the way to the hospital, and now you’re just going to leave without saying anything?” “You’re just here to ask about the robotics project, aren’t you?” “Then I’ll tell you again: the project goes to Chloe. As for you, the security guard at the front gate has a family emergency. Go cover his shift.” Seeing me remain completely silent, a look of exasperation crossed his face. “Mia, why are you getting angry so easily lately? Are you hitting early menopause or something?” “You’re not mad about Chloe, are you? There’s absolutely no need for that. She and I are strictly boss and subordinate. I just saw her looking so pitiful here all alone, and wanted to take care of her.” “What, is it a crime for a boss to care about his employee?” Looking at the man standing in front of me, acting so incredibly self-righteous, I couldn’t even remember when he had started changing like this. Probably from the exact day Chloe joined the company. Everything silently shifted. “You’re right. You did the right thing.” I brushed him off casually. Right now, I just wanted to get out of here as fast as possible. Hearing that, Liam let go of my wrist, eyeing me suspiciously: “Do you really mean that?” When I nodded, his expression relaxed, and he looked at me with satisfaction: “Good. Stop letting your imagination run wild.” “Alright, I have to go take care of Chloe.” “Go home and wait for me. I have something to discuss with you.” With that, Liam turned and walked back toward the hospital room without looking back. On the ride home, I watched the scenery blur past the window. An indescribable pain churned in the pit of my stomach, rushing up to my chest, suffocating me. When I got home, I collapsed onto the sofa. My eyes landed on a diary tucked away in the corner. Curious, I picked it up and started flipping through it casually. But as I read, I slowly sat up straight. In all these years, Liam never let me read his diary. He said he was recording our love story so we could reminisce about our youth when we grew old together. But looking at the blocks of text in front of me, I lost the courage to keep reading. “Today, Mia asked me, ‘If you ever meet a woman who is better than me, and she likes you too, what would you do?’” “My instinct was to tell her, ‘I will only ever love you in this life!’” “But in that moment, Chloe’s face actually flashed in my mind.” Those few simple sentences brought tears streaming down my face. So, changing one’s heart is human nature, and loyalty is merely a choice. And Liam had chosen the former. I didn’t read any further. There was no point. Truly no point. I picked up my phone and called my best friend. “Well look who it is! What brings the busiest person I know to call me?” “Sarah, please draft a divorce agreement for me.” Hearing the deadly seriousness in my tone, Sarah’s attitude shifted instantly. “What happened?” After telling her everything that had transpired recently, she was silent for a long time. Finally, she let out a sigh and said softly, “Ten years of history, and this is how it ends. What even is love in the end?” I gave a bitter smile. “It’s divorce.” “Babe, you’re making the right choice. Don’t doubt yourself. You did nothing wrong. Leave the paperwork to me.” After hanging up, I got up from the sofa, walked over to the fridge, and pulled out a few cans of beer. I sat on the floor, watching fireworks suddenly erupt outside the window. My heart cooled, feeling as fleeting and empty as the explosions in the sky. I drank can after can, trying to let the alcohol numb my brain. My head started to spin. That was exactly when Liam walked in. As the lights flicked on, our eyes met. Seeing my red eyes, he froze for a second. Then he walked over, snatched the beer from my hand, and said angrily, “Didn’t I tell you I hate it when you drink?!” “Mia, are you just completely ignoring everything I say now?!” “This is the last time! Do not let it happen again!” “Go wash your face and sober up. I have something to tell you.” With that, he grabbed my arm and practically shoved me toward the bathroom. I struggled to stay upright, slapping my cheeks, trying desperately to sober myself up. I really did need to wash my face and clear my head. After all, I had something to tell him, too. When I walked out of the bathroom, Liam was sitting on the sofa, looking at me with intense anticipation, holding a document in his hand. “Honey, look at this!” Hearing him call me that, I stopped dead in my tracks, completely stunned. We had been together for almost ten years, and this was the very first time he had ever initiated calling me “Honey.” “Come here quickly! Come look at what this is!” Snapping out of it, I walked toward him, totally confused. As I got close, a cloying wave of women’s perfume hit me. I forced down the nausea rising in my stomach, looking at him with absolute calm. Just as I was about to ask for a divorce, he shoved the document into my hands. Looking at the paper, I froze. How could this happen? “Honey, we’re having a baby! Your physical exam results from last time came back! You’re going to be a mom!” “We finally have a baby! We’re going to be parents!” “Honey, why aren’t you saying anything? Are you just too happy?!” Liam waved his hand in front of my face, his eyes shining. This sudden pregnancy completely destroyed my plans. I stared blankly at the prenatal report, my emotions a tangled, chaotic mess. “I’m pregnant?” Liam smiled and nodded enthusiastically. He threw his arms around my neck and said softly, “Yes, you’re pregnant.” I casually tossed the report onto the table, walked back to the fridge, and grabbed another beer. Seeing this, Liam looked deeply displeased. He marched over, snatched the beer away again, and started scolding me: “What is wrong with you?! I just told you I hate it when you drink! And you’re pregnant now! You absolutely cannot drink alcohol!” “Even if you’re happy about the baby, you still can’t drink!” “Alright, I haven’t eaten yet. I’m hungry. I want fish soup. Go make me some fish soup right now.” When I didn’t react, a flash of impatience crossed his eyes. He shoved me toward the kitchen. I shook my head, trying to force myself to stay clear-headed, but this sudden twist had left me completely lost. I had no choice but to try and push those thoughts aside for now and started cooking. Seeing me busy in the kitchen, Liam sat back down on the sofa, looking incredibly satisfied. He pulled out his phone and started texting someone, a massive smile on his face. After finishing the food, just as I placed the last dish on the table, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw a message from Chloe. She didn’t say anything; she just sent a picture. Confused, I tapped on it. It was a prenatal report. The name on the report was crystal clear: Chloe Evans. Suddenly, everything made sense. How incredibly pathetic of him. He didn’t even notice that the prenatal report wasn’t mine. I watched Liam drinking the fish soup while smiling and replying to texts. I asked softly, “Is that prenatal report really mine?” Since all his attention was on his phone, Liam looked up, confused. “What did you say?” “Were you asking how the fish soup tastes? It’s pretty good, but use less salt next time. Too much salt is bad for the baby.” I set my phone down, pulled out a chair, and sat directly across from him. “Liam, let’s get a divorce.” Hearing this, his hand holding the spoon froze. Then he started coughing violently, his face turning beet red. “Honey, what did you just say?” “Honey, I’m starting to think pregnancy really does make people stupid. Since when do you make jokes like this?” “You heard me correctly. I said I want a divorce.” I looked calmly at the man in front of me, my eyes carrying an ocean of profound sorrow. Liam snapped his head up, his voice trembling: “Honey, you want a divorce?” “Are you joking? We’re having a baby now, why are you suddenly bringing up divorce?” “It’s not April Fool’s Day, and this joke isn’t funny. Enough, stop messing around and eat. I’ve had a long day and I’m exhausted.” I picked up my phone, opened the chat with Chloe, and slid the picture across the table to him. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” The moment he saw the picture, the color drained entirely from his face. He grabbed my hand, speaking rapidly: “Honey, it’s not what it looks like. I swear it’s not.” “Chloe photoshopped this! She’s just trying to ruin our marriage! You’re the one who’s pregnant!” I violently yanked my hand out of his grip, saying coldly: “Fine. Since you say that, let’s go to the hospital right now and get tested again.” Liam’s expression became incredibly unnatural. He looked away and mumbled, “There’s no need. You really are pregnant.” “How much longer are you going to lie to me?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “391662”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My boyfriend had severe depression. His medication and sessions with a top specialist cost over ten thousand dollars a month. To pay for his treatment, I worked myself to the bone, taking on endless freelance illustration gigs and running food deliveries day and night. My friends constantly warned me I was going to work myself to death. Until one day, I managed to snag a high-paying delivery order to an exclusive, ultra-wealthy gated community. I respectfully handed over the $18,000 premium sushi platter to the customer. But when I looked up, standing right inside the doorway was my boyfriend—who was supposed to be at his therapy session. He stared back at me, looking absolutely shell-shocked. 01 “Aren’t you supposed to be at the clinic, Liam?” I looked at the breathtakingly luxurious mansion, my left hand gripping the sushi takeout bag so tightly it physically hurt. Even though it was pushing 100 degrees outside, I started shivering as if I’d been plunged into an ice bath. I had only ever seen places like this in movies. “I’m sorry, Rose, let me explain. Dr. Lewis had an emergency this afternoon…” “I’m just hanging out at a friend’s house.” Caught entirely off guard, Liam lost his composure and reached out to grab my sleeve. It was his go-to move whenever he apologized. It always worked before. But not today. I slapped his hand away coldly. The custom-tailored dress shirt he was wearing had a designer label I didn’t even recognize. But looking at it now, it was incredibly ironic. It suited his rich-boy aura far better than the cheap basics he usually wore. I lowered my eyes, pulled out my phone, and opened the booking app for the Green City Clinic. Seeing that Dr. Lewis’s schedule still had open slots for the afternoon, I didn’t even have the energy to call out his lie. Taking a deep breath, I organized my chaotic thoughts and forced my voice to remain perfectly calm: “Liam, is this fun for you?” “Acting like a poor, depressed, struggling kid around me, pretending you couldn’t even afford a cup of bubble tea… when in reality, you’re a billionaire heir whose lunch costs $18,000!” My lips trembled. I stared resentfully at the man in front of me, completely unaware of when the tears had filled my eyes. “You really… played me for an absolute fool…” “$18,000! I would have to deliver 6,000 orders to make that much! That’s two months of work…” The most pathetic part was that the only app still open in the background of my phone… Was our text thread from half an hour ago. I had texted Liam, telling him I was going to splurge on dinner tonight and make his favorite lotus root soup. Because the customer in this wealthy neighborhood was incredibly generous and left a $100 tip. I just never, in my wildest dreams, imagined that the tip came directly from Liam himself. 02 Late at night, Liam used to hold me tight and whisper that in this entire world, my love was the only thing he never doubted. That even his parents’ love for him wasn’t as pure as mine. Those whispered promises used to make me so incredibly happy. I felt like the luckiest girl in the world to find genuine love in a society where it was so rare. But looking back on it now, nobody else could possibly be this stupid. Risking heatstroke out in the blazing sun just for a five-dollar extreme weather bonus, just so I could scrape together enough for his medical bills a little sooner. “I haven’t slept for more than five hours a night in so long. I dreamt of the day you would finally get better.” “You knew all of this better than anyone, didn’t you?” My accusing voice slowly broke into a sob. Liam’s previously calm expression finally cracked. His eyes reddened slightly, and he nodded. We lived in a cramped, rundown, one-bedroom apartment, a thirty-minute walk just to get to the subway station. He watched me exhaust myself. He watched me stretch every single dollar until it broke. He watched me struggle, desperately working to pay for his fake poverty-simulation game, just to ‘cure’ this imaginary depression he had fabricated. He watched the entire thing unfold like some detached creator observing a rat in a maze. “I’ll transfer a large sum of money to your account. Consider it compensation.” “I… I truly wronged you.” Liam lowered his head, his eyes filled with guilt and a hint of helplessness. He realized he couldn’t lie his way out of this, so he simply gave up trying. With stiff fingers, I pulled the crumpled receipt from my pocket. It was half a meter long, listing nothing but the most premium, expensive cuts of meat. I crumpled it into a ball and threw it at him with every ounce of strength I had left. Liam didn’t dodge. His expression was a mix of sorrow and deep regret. The cold air conditioning from inside the house provided a stark contrast to the blazing heat outside. Over the loud hum of the cicadas, I heard footsteps approaching from inside. Followed immediately by a whining, sweet female voice: “Liam, is the food not here yet? I’m literally starving to death!” 03 The tense standoff between Liam and me broke. His expression shifted drastically. We both turned our heads just in time to see a young woman in a lacy silk nightgown walking toward the door. Liam panicked and tried to block her path. “Why did you come out? I’m coming back in right now. Be a good girl, go back inside.” But the girl seemed determined to see what was going on. She stepped around Liam, a polite smile on her face. But as she looked at me, her almond-shaped eyes flashed with a hint of recognition and pure disdain. “And this is…” Silence. Seeing that neither of us was going to answer, she smirked. Then, naturally, she linked her arm through Liam’s and deliberately pulled her sheer, blush-pink nightgown down slightly at the shoulder. The red marks on her neck and the curves beneath the thin fabric were fully exposed. She leaned her entire body against him, looking incredibly soft and pliant. The man’s anxious gaze was fixed entirely on me. I turned my head away in absolute despair and closed my eyes. My hair was soaked in sweat, sticking uncomfortably to my face. My temples throbbed with a sharp, rhythmic pain. Even someone as dense as me knew exactly what had just happened here. Originally, I thought I was just the unlucky pawn in a rich kid’s “poverty” roleplay. Now I realized I was also the spicy side dish in his high-society romance. What absolute, terrible luck. I didn’t want to stay a second longer. I turned around to pack up my delivery bag and leave. But the girl suddenly called out to me: “Wait a second. Are you Liam’s little slum-girlfriend from off-campus?” “I didn’t recognize you in that delivery uniform. Are you Rose Evans from the Humanities department?” 04 I froze and turned back to look at her. It took me half a minute, but I finally recognized her. She was a year above me. Chloe Vance. The gorgeous, incredibly wealthy, and universally adored campus princess. But we had history. She used her family’s influence to pull some strings and give my need-based financial aid scholarship to someone else. Because of that, I never sucked up to her like everyone else did. Seeing my dark, unnatural expression, Chloe tightened her grip on Liam’s arm. She feigned excitement, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness: “Liam, I can’t believe it! Last year, I casually mentioned to you that there was this annoying, fake-righteous junior I couldn’t stand.” “You just asked a few questions, and you actually went and destroyed Rose Evans for me! I have to admire your methods. So brilliant…” Chloe looked up, shooting me a vicious glare as she continued: “So brilliant that you played our college’s brilliant prodigy, Rose Evans, like an absolute dog.” My hands, hanging limply at my sides, slowly clenched into fists. The cold air from the mansion washed over me, but it brought absolutely no relief. To these people, the future, feelings, money, and hard work of ordinary people were just annoying weeds on the side of the road. They didn’t just ignore them; they had to stomp on them and spit on them too. Chloe leaned up and kissed Liam on the cheek, like she was rewarding him for making such a fool out of me. Her eyes taunted me. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, her expression turned strangely manic. She asked: “Junior Rose, did Liam tell you he had depression?” I frowned, not denying it. The woman in front of me immediately doubled over with laughter. But the words that came out of her mouth froze my blood. “That’s because I told Liam that your younger brother committed suicide because of depression.” “I told him that if he claimed he had depression, your brainless ass would fall for it instantly.” “And look! I was right.” 05 The moment those words hung in the air, the world seemed to stop. Only the sound of the cicadas remained. My brain completely short-circuited. I bit my lower lip so hard it bled, ripped off my delivery helmet, and swung it at Liam like a maniac. If I swallowed this insult, I might as well give up on life completely. My chest heaving violently, I screamed at him: “Depression, huh?! Playing poor, huh?! You love poking people right in their deepest wounds, don’t you?!” “You deserve it! You deserve the fact that your parents don’t love you, you piece of trash! You deserve it when your dad beat your mom right in front of you! Why didn’t he just beat you to death too?!” “I’ll fucking beat you to death right now for him!” During the year Liam and I were together—whether it was all an act or if there were moments of genuine emotion—we had shared our deepest vulnerabilities with each other. So I knew exactly what he could never let go of: the coldness and neglect from his parents. He had never experienced the love of a family. And right now, that became the weapon I used to verbally annihilate him. Before either of them could react, I repeatedly smashed the helmet into Liam’s face as hard as I could. Fueled by pure rage, I gasped for air. My chronic lack of sleep made my head spin dizzily. The exact second Chloe brought up my little brother, Leo, the rationality I had barely held together all afternoon completely shattered. He was my absolute untouchable boundary. Until Chloe finally managed to drag me away, Liam didn’t fight back once. He covered his mouth, his hands covered in blood. “Are you okay, Liam?! I’m calling the police right now!” “This crazy bitch has a death wish, hitting you like that?! I’m going to have my dad…” Chloe’s furious voice was laced with a panicked sob. But Liam grabbed her hand and shook his head: “No. Don’t.” “It’s all… my fault. I owe her.” He smoothed down his hair, which I had messed up, and walked over to me. He pulled a gold card from his pocket and held it out to me: “The PIN is your birthday. I know what I did is unforgivable, but… just take it. I’m sorry.” I let out a cold laugh. The look I gave him contained nothing but absolute ice and pure hatred. “Die soon.” I violently snatched the gold card from his fingers, dropped that final curse, and turned to walk away. 06 There was $770,000 on the card. I asked my delivery manager to settle my final paycheck, and then I quit. The 250-square-foot, one-bedroom apartment was so small you could see the whole thing at a glance. The reason I had moved out of the dorms and in with Liam was because he claimed his physical symptoms from his depression were getting worse, and he needed me with him every day. Originally, I had my guard up when Liam so boldly barged into my life. But seeing that he suffered from the exact same illness as my brother… it made my heart soften. And it clouded my judgment. For a long time, it was hard to tell if my feelings for him were driven more by love, or by the overwhelming, desperate need to compensate for the guilt I felt over my brother. I just wanted, obsessively and frantically, to help cure his depression. As if doing that would somehow lighten the crushing weight of my own nightmares. Honestly, after a year, we hadn’t accumulated that much stuff. But everything we had bought as a couple was too painful to look at, so I threw it all directly into the trash. Listening to the rattle of the old AC unit, I stared at the ceiling, slowly drifting away from the endless exhaustion of my daily grind, and fell into a deep sleep. In my dream, I couldn’t even count how many times I had seen Leo in that bathtub. He lay there, completely drained of color, in a pool of crimson water. His entire body was as pale as a porcelain doll. Cold. Lifeless. Pill bottles were scattered near his limp fingertips. His long eyelashes were gently closed, looking exactly the same as all those nights he used to wait up for me to finish studying, nodding off. Only this time, they would never open again. He would never rub his sleepy eyes and ask me when I was going to bed. On his phone, he had deleted his chat history with everyone. He only left me one final message: “I’m sorry, Sis.” And a transfer of $3,569.81. It was every single penny he had to his name. Spring was in full bloom that year. Leo, who was as brilliant and perfect as the sun, left during the most beautiful season. And I was trapped in that spring forever. 07 The rustling of plastic bags behind the door woke me up. A man in a black dress shirt was crouching by the trash can, sneaking around, digging through it. “Who’s there?” The man froze, then slowly turned around. It was Liam. He was wearing a mask, and there were a few bandages on his face. I rubbed my throbbing forehead. I forgot he still had a key to the apartment. The couples rings, the matching mugs, the watches, the souvenirs—everything I had thrown in the trash that afternoon had been pulled out and neatly lined up on the floor. “Why are you taking that stuff?” Hearing me, Liam lowered his eyes, his expression unreadable. “I just came back one last time to pack some things to take with me.” “It’s all worthless junk. The young Master Sterling actually wants it?” I sat up in bed, looking around the room to see if there was anything important left. Since things had come to this, I planned to move back into the dorms next week and terminate the lease here. Liam held the cheap silver couples ring in his hand, his thumb gently rubbing it. His voice was desolate and low: “Rose, I know you don’t believe me, but my feelings for you were real. You were the only person I truly trusted…” “No one has ever loved me with that kind of pure, absolute devotion. I don’t want to lose you.” I waved my hand dismissively, lowering my head to let out a harsh scoff. The scene from this afternoon replayed in my mind like a cruel joke. “Real feelings? Was making me deliver food to you right after you finished sleeping with her your way of showing love? Should I be thanking you for that?” “I can explain what happened with Chloe! Nothing ever happened between us. I only agreed to be with her because I wasn’t thinking straight.” “And I’ve wanted to break it off with her for a long time. I realized that the person I truly love is actually…” “There’s no point in discussing this anymore.” I cut him off coldly, my eyes empty. Water dripped steadily into a bucket in the bathroom. The knee-high faucet had been leaking for ages. To save money on the water bill, I always kept a plastic bucket underneath it. The money I saved was just pennies. His claims of “true love” were so absurd they were laughable. The moment the lie was exposed, regardless of whether his feelings were real or not, an uncrossable chasm had opened between us. “Honestly, Liam, when you used my dead brother to get close to me, did you ever consider that karma might come back to bite you?” “What do you mean?” I didn’t answer. I just frowned, opened the door, and gestured for him to leave. Seeing my absolute, resolute expression, he looked deeply hurt. He grabbed the items lined up on the floor, shoved them carelessly into his bag, and stood up. “Stop pretending to have depression.” “Because for every piece of trash like you in the world, the stigma around depression gets worse, and the people who actually need help have a harder time getting it.” And there will just be more people ending up like Leo. After a long pause, the man in front of me slowly nodded. Then, Liam pulled a bag of pork ribs and lotus root from behind the door. He had seen the message I sent about our special dinner. “Could you make lotus root soup for me one last time?” “No. Your personal chef can make it a hundred times better.” “I only like the way you make it.” “Rose, why can’t you just trust me one more time? Give me one more chance?” His voice was choking with tears. I never imagined that Liam, having returned to his untouchable status as a billionaire heir, would ever wear such a desperate, pleading expression. At this point, none of this fit the parameters of his little poverty roleplay game anymore. But regardless of whether his words were true or false, I remained completely, utterly unmoved. He understood I was rejecting him. He reached out as if to grab my hand, but ultimately let his arm drop. Before walking out the door, Liam looked back at me, his eyes red. “Do you still love me?” “No.” “Could you ever love me again?” “No.”

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I went to my brother’s hospital for an allergic reaction and ran right into the intern nurse who was crushing on him. Hard. After she overheard what she thought was an “intimate” conversation between me and my brother, her face soured with jealousy and panic. Just then, my brother, Alex, walked in and habitually placed his hand on my forehead to check my temperature. That was the last straw for her. She looked at me like I was the enemy, her eyes filled with suspicion. I was torn between laughing and crying, about to explain the situation, when she suddenly shrieked and slapped my brother’s hand away. “Dr. Monroe, break up with her! Don’t let this filthy woman deceive you! This isn’t an allergic reaction!” “She’s got… a rash on her backside!” “It’s a textbook sign of secondary syphilis! She’s got a filthy disease!” 1 The entire ER went dead silent. In an instant, every eye in the room snapped to me—to my exposed back and my half-lowered pants. A roar filled my ears as all the blood rushed to my head. “What the hell are you talking about?!” I was the first to snap out of it, my body trembling with rage. I whipped my head toward the intern, Brooke, my eyes turning red. “What’s your name? Your ID number? Do you have any idea that’s slander?!” My fury made Brooke flinch, and tears instantly welled up in her eyes. But she refused to back down, her tear-filled gaze shifting to Alex, who stood there in stunned silence. Her expression was a bizarre mix of righteous indignation, heartbreak, and a kind of… “savior” complex I couldn’t comprehend. “Dr. Monroe! I’m not lying! I’ve studied medicine for five years, I know what I’m seeing!” she sobbed, a picture of tragic beauty. She pointed a trembling finger at me. “I just don’t want you to be fooled by a woman like her! Her personal life is a mess, she doesn’t deserve you! Look at her, she’s still trying to deny it!” The look on Alex’s face screamed, Who am I? Where am I? I yanked up my pants, ignoring the searing pain as the fabric scraped against my raw skin. I stood up and locked my eyes on Brooke. “Say it again,” I hissed, forcing the words through gritted teeth. “What disease do you think I have?” “I…” My glare seemed to frighten her, but a quick glance at Alex standing nearby gave her a fresh surge of courage. She puffed out her chest. “You know perfectly well what you’ve been doing, don’t you?” “Right,” I said, a humorless laugh escaping my lips. “Just perfect.” I was done wasting my breath on her. I pulled out my phone and started dialing right in front of her. “Hello, 911? I’d like to report a crime. There’s someone here publicly slandering me, defaming my character…” “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Ms. Lynn! Please, calm down!” A middle-aged man with a “Chief Physician” badge clipped to his coat rushed in, clearly having heard the commotion. When he took in the scene—me on the phone with the police, Alex’s face a mask of thunder—he looked like he was about to have a heart attack. “Dr. Monroe, what… what’s going on here?” Alex’s voice was clipped. “Dr. Wallace, this intern here claims my ‘girlfriend’ has secondary syphilis.” The color drained from the chief’s face. He spun on Brooke, his voice a furious whisper. “Brooke! What do you think you’re doing? You don’t have a lab report, and you’re making a diagnosis with your eyes? What are you, a goddamn X-ray machine?!” “I… I…” Brooke’s tears flowed faster as she looked pleadingly at Alex. “Dr. Monroe, I was really just trying to help you! I…” “Shut up!” Dr. Wallace looked like his head was about to explode. He knew Alex had influence with the hospital administration. If this blew up, his whole department would be in hot water. “Apologize to Ms. Lynn and Dr. Monroe right now!” “Do you want to lose your residency spot?!” The words “residency spot” were clearly Brooke’s weak point. She trembled, biting her lip, her face a mask of humiliation and defiance. She reluctantly gave me a short, jerky bow. “I’m… sorry.” Her voice was as quiet as a mosquito’s buzz, but the venom in her eyes could have killed. “I don’t want your apology,” I cut her off, my gaze sweeping sharply between her and Dr. Wallace. “I’m going to get a full STD panel done. Right here, in your hospital. Right now.” I paused, enunciating every word. “And if the results come back clean, I’m not just suing you, Brooke, for slander. I’m suing this hospital for gross negligence and for allowing an intern to spread malicious lies.” Beads of cold sweat popped up on Dr. Wallace’s forehead. “Ms. Lynn, please, let’s not be hasty,” he said, forcing a smile. “This is all a big misunderstanding! Brooke, you’re suspended from your internship duties. Go write a ten-thousand-word self-criticism report! We’ll post a hospital-wide notice of reprimand!” I couldn’t be bothered to watch their pathetic drama anymore. I turned and walked away. Alex quickly followed, helping me register and get my blood drawn. I was so angry I basically did the blood draw on myself, finding the vein and inserting the needle with a grim satisfaction. It was past midnight by the time I dragged my rash-covered, furious self home. I swallowed my medication and fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep. I had no idea that for every hour I slept, I was being crucified online. When I finally opened my eyes again, it was to the violent buzzing of my phone. A string of missed calls from Alex. “Hello…?” My voice was as scratchy as sandpaper. “Lia, thank God you finally picked up! Get on TikTok! Now! It’s a total disaster!” My stomach dropped. I opened the app. The 999+ notifications in my DMs and comments made my phone lag so badly it felt like I was watching a slideshow. A video from a local creator was trending, sitting right at the top of my feed. In the video, a girl in a white coat was sobbing into the camera. It was Brooke. The caption read: [I just wanted to be a good doctor, is that so wrong?] She didn’t use any names, but the background was unmistakably the ER hallway from last night. Between heart-wrenching sobs, she spoke. “…I was just trying to kindly warn the gentleman that his ‘girlfriend’s’ symptoms were very suspicious. If it was that kind of disease, it could be contagious. I never thought his girlfriend would react so violently and file a complaint against me…” “…Now, to smooth things over, my supervisor has suspended me and made me write a self-criticism report. After five years of medical school, I honestly don’t know what I did wrong…” “…Maybe I shouldn’t have gotten involved, but I just couldn’t bear to see that man kept in the dark. I did nothing wrong! I’m still the best Little Lamb!” That last part, “I’m still the best Little Lamb,” was her personal tag. The comment section had already exploded. 2 [Don’t cry, sweetie! You did nothing wrong! You’re just too kind!] [Seriously, some women these days have no shame. And then they get mad when you call them out?] [That patient was definitely just pissed you exposed her! Hugs for Little Lamb!] [OMG, isn’t that St. Jude’s Medical Center? I think I was there yesterday, that woman was a total nightmare!] [Someone find out who that woman is! We have to save that handsome guy from her!] I was shaking with rage. What a masterpiece of twisting the truth, “the best Little Lamb.” She was even replying to comments, vividly describing what I looked like. [The woman looked sickly, but she had a terrible temper. I have no idea how she managed to trick a guy like him. He’s so handsome and classy, they’re like night and day!] [I heard the handsome guy is an administrator here at the hospital, and he’s super nice! Ugh, what a waste!] My anger boiled over. I started typing a reply in the comments: [I’m the “patient” you’re talking about, and here’s what actually happened…] I had just furiously typed out half the story when a cold, gray box popped up on my screen: [Your account has been suspended due to multiple user reports of violating community guidelines.] My vision went black for a second. When I came to, I immediately contacted customer support, only to be told it would take three business days to review my case. Three business days? The damage would be irreversible by then. Alex was panicking on the other end of the line. “Lia, I’ve already spoken to the hospital director. They said they’ll issue a public statement to clarify everything immediately!” “Alex,” I said, taking a deep breath to force myself to stay calm. “Don’t. Right now, you’re the ‘poor, handsome guy being duped’ in her story. The more you defend me, the more they’ll think I have some powerful background and I’m using it to bully her.” “So what are we supposed to do? Just let her drag your name through the mud?” I hung up, my eyes fixed on Brooke’s tear-stained face in the video. Suddenly, I remembered the way she’d looked at Alex in the ER last night. It was… wrong. That wasn’t how an intern looked at a colleague. It was obsession. Jealousy. Resentment. She kept saying things like “for your own good” and “she doesn’t deserve you.” Why would a brand-new intern be so… invested in my brother’s love life? Unless… she knew him from before. A crazy idea, sharp as lightning, shot through my mind. I shot up in bed and dialed Alex’s number again. “Alex, I need you to do something for me. Right now. I need you to log in to the hospital’s internal staff forum.” “Huh? Right now? Why?” “Just do it. And search for a post.” Drawing on a hazy memory, I gave him a few keywords. “Try: Dr. Monroe, girlfriend, doesn’t deserve.” There was silence on the other end. As an administrator, Alex could access the internal network in seconds. Five minutes later, he called back, his voice thick with shock and disbelief. “Lia… how… how did you know?” He sent me a screenshot. It was a post from three months ago, in the “Anonymous Gossip” section of the hospital’s internal forum. The title was: [Vent] Dr. Monroe in Admin is so nice, but isn’t his girlfriend kind of a diva? The post read: [OP is a new intern. I saw Dr. Monroe in the cafeteria today, and his girlfriend (I assume) called. He had to drop everything and run down to the coffee shop in the lobby to buy her some special strawberry frappe.] [Last week, I saw her making him carry her shopping bags in the hospital garden. She was totally bossing him around, but Dr. Monroe is such a saint, he was smiling the whole time.] [And I heard she’s a massive spender. Most of Dr. Monroe’s salary goes straight to her.] [What’s so great about a woman like that? Why would Dr. Monroe be with her? I just feel so bad for him!] The replies were a mixed bag. [OP, you just have a crush on Dr. Monroe, don’t you?] [Hahaha, our Dr. Monroe is the hospital heartthrob. The line of people crushing on him is a mile long.] [I’ve seen that woman too. She’s gorgeous, but she looks really mean.] And when someone asked the original poster if she had a crush, she had replied with a long, defensive rant: [NO! I DON’T! Stop making things up! I just feel bad for Dr. Monroe! He’s such a good person, why does he have to be deceived by a woman like her?!] I stared at the screenshot, a chill spreading through my limbs. Three months ago, I had a dental appointment, and Alex offered to buy me a drink. I complained he got the flavor wrong, so I sent him back downstairs to get another one. Last week, my mom had us pick up her physical exam report from the hospital, and I’d done some shopping beforehand, so I made him carry my bags. As for his salary… my mom had confiscated his credit cards years ago for his reckless spending. I was the one holding them, giving him a monthly allowance. I took another deep breath, my voice as cold as ice. “Alex, trace the IP address of that post.” There was a pause. “…Lia, the IP address traces back to the intern dorms. Building A.” “And who… lives in Building A?” “…Dermatology and a few internal medicine interns.” Alex hesitated. “Brooke… Brooke lives in Building A.” 3 I laughed. A cold, hollow sound that nearly brought tears to my eyes. So this wasn’t a medical error. It wasn’t a random attack. This was a premeditated setup, a character assassination fueled by a one-sided crush. Brooke hadn’t misdiagnosed me. She had already judged and condemned me. She wasn’t diagnosing my illness; she was delivering my punishment. She was punishing me, the “awful woman” who “didn’t deserve” Alex and was “deceiving” him. Fine. You want to settle this online? Just then, a friend request popped up on my social media. The profile picture was Brooke’s own pitiful, tear-stained face. I accepted. A message came through instantly. [Ms. Lia Lynn, I presume? I honestly didn’t expect things to blow up online like this.] [I already know I was wrong, and I’ve asked for your forgiveness. But as a doctor, I feel I should still offer some advice. A girl should take care of her body. It’s really better not to be so… promiscuous.] Her condescending tone, as if she were some kind of savior, was infuriating. I stared at the words, a bitter laugh bubbling up inside me. I was about to unleash a torrent of curses, but my fingers froze over the screen. What was the point of yelling at her? It would only feed her ego. I deleted the long string of insults I had typed and calmly replied with a few words. [Are you at the hospital right now?] Brooke clearly hadn’t expected that question. A few seconds later, a single “?” appeared. Seeing that question mark, a cold smile touched my lips. I didn’t bother replying. I dialed Alex’s number instead. “Alex, do me a favor.” “Anything, Lia!” “Go live on your TikTok account.” “What?” “The title of the stream will be: [Regarding ‘Little Lamb’s’ Slander—The Patient’s Actual Brother Has Something to Say].” 4 The next morning, Alex and I walked back into that hospital. Alex’s TikTok account had a few tens of thousands of followers, mostly from his fitness videos and hospital-related informational content. The moment he started the livestream with that title, thousands of viewers poured in. Most of them were people who had followed the “Little Lamb” drama last night and had come to curse out the “slut” and the “blinded hottie.” [Ugh, that woman has the nerve to show her face at the hospital again?] [Is this guy insane? He’s that handsome and he chooses a girl with syphilis?] [You city people are wild!] I ignored the flood of comments and walked straight to the emergency department’s main hall. As I expected, Brooke was there. She wasn’t in her white coat. She had changed into a white dress and was laughing and chatting with another nurse, showing no signs of someone who had been suspended and was supposed to be reflecting on her actions. When she saw me, she froze for a second, then her lips curled into a slight, contemptuous smirk. But when her eyes moved past me and landed on Alex, who was holding his phone up and livestreaming, the color drained from her face. In the next instant, she put on a heart-wrenching, tearful expression and rushed toward us, bowing deeply over and over. “Dr. Monroe! Ms. Lynn! I’m so, so sorry!” “I truly had no idea the online reaction would be so huge… I never should have revealed your condition online, I was just so worried you might infect someone else…” She cried, stealing glances at Alex from the corner of her eye, her performance utterly convincing. The livestream chat instantly exploded. [Did you hear that! She admitted it herself! It’s a ‘condition,’ not an ‘allergic reaction’!] [I’m gonna be sick. And this woman dragged her ‘boyfriend’ here to cause more trouble?] I suppressed the inferno of rage in my chest and cut her performance short with a cold, clear voice. “A condition? Alright then.” I held up a manila folder I was carrying. “The results from last night’s blood test are in this folder.” Brooke’s sobs hitched. “But,” I continued, “I’m worried people will say we used our ‘connections’ to force the hospital to alter the report.” I turned to the camera, to the crowd of onlookers that had gathered in the lobby. “So, right here, right now, in front of everyone in this livestream, I’m going to register again, get my blood drawn again, and do another full panel of tests!” “And that’s not all,” I said, turning to Alex. Alex understood immediately and made a call. “Hello, is this the Notary Public’s office? I need an expedited on-site notarization service…” “This is…” Brooke’s face was now completely white. Just then, Dr. Wallace, the chief from yesterday, rushed over, his face livid. “This is absurd! What do you think a hospital is? A stage for your livestream drama?” He was clearly trying to shut this down. Alex walked over to him without a word and whispered something in his ear. I only caught a few words: “dean,” “internal forum,” “malicious slander.” Dr. Wallace’s face turned from white to green, then from green to a dark, stormy gray. He stared at Brooke, his eyes burning with a look that could have skinned her alive. Finally, he ground out three words through his teeth: “Let her test!” I took Alex’s phone and handled the registration and payment. On the screen, I ignored the vile comments scrolling by. Blood draw, urine sample, various scans… The notaries arrived quickly, and two of them set up their own cameras, recording the entire process. I remained perfectly calm through it all. Brooke tried to find an excuse to slip away several times, but Alex stood like a guard at the lab entrance, blocking her path every time. Her face grew paler, her eyes wild with panic. After all the tests were done, I crossed my arms and sat on a bench in the hospital lobby to wait. The number of viewers on the livestream had surpassed one hundred thousand, all of them waiting to see how this drama would end. Two hours later, I had all the printed report sheets in my hand. I didn’t even look at them. I handed the entire stack, along with the notarized documents, directly to Dr. Wallace. “Dr. Wallace,” I said with a small smile, “you’re the chief physician. You’re the expert. Would you please do the honors? Read my test results out loud for our friends in the livestream.” Dr. Wallace’s white coat was soaked with sweat. He took the stack of papers, his hands trembling. He cleared his throat and began to read, one sheet at a time. “Complete blood count, normal.” “Liver function, normal.” “Kidney function, normal.” … He read quickly, until he got to the very last page. His voice stopped abruptly. He looked up, gave me a strange, conflicted look, then glanced back down at the report in his hands. His eyes held a flicker of hesitation and something that looked almost like… pity? The livestream chat sensed that something was wrong. [Why’d he stop reading? What’s on the last page?] [Come on, say it! The suspense is killing me!] Under the pressure of hundreds of thousands of viewers, the doctor swallowed hard. He looked at the camera and forced out the words: “Syphilis antibody test… Positive (+).” “Diagnosis: Syphilis, Secondary Stage.”

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I found a homeless man, spent all my savings to heal him and helped him start a business. A year later, he became the city’s newest billionaire. Everyone envied my keen eye, eagerly awaiting my grand entry into high society. Yet, he knelt before my sister, claiming he had mistakenly loved another, only to find his true love was her. I didn’t cry, didn’t cause a scene, just smiled and nodded. My family thought I had accepted my fate. But no one knew I was born with a gift for the mystic arts, and I had long seen that Finn carried the aura of a top-tier Lucky Charm. A year of meticulous planning, all to seize his fortune. Marrying into wealth? No, I would become the wealth myself! 1 From the moment I was born, I could see everyone’s aura. Ordinary people had a faint white glow around them. Celebrities on TV shone with a dazzling red. Those cursed with bad luck, prone to bankruptcy or violent deaths, were shrouded in an impenetrable black. Only I, looking in a mirror, saw my own aura as a void, completely transparent. Because of this, since childhood, I’d devoured every book on metaphysics, sought out every reclusive master. Finally, a blind sage told me: I had a rare “Empty Fate,” a short and shallow life, with only one solution: draw upon others’ luck for my own. But I searched for many years, never encountering an aura that truly captivated me. Until one day, in a forgotten alley in the old quarter, I saw a burst of golden light so brilliant it made one squint. As I drew closer, I realized the light emanated from a filthy homeless man, emaciated beyond recognition, his wounds festering with pus and insects. Yet, that golden aura was solid, palpable, swirling around him like a mythical carp. It was the “Nine Transformations of the Lucky Carp,” a rare fortune seen only once in a century! This aura promised immense wealth, the power to defy fate, and to turn disaster into fortune. I heard my heart pound, as if I had met true love. I extended a trembling hand towards him: “Come with me.” The moment we arrived home, my sister Rose’s shriek shattered the silence: “Alicia brought back a smelly beggar!” Mom rushed from the kitchen, pinching her nose and scolding me: “Where did you pick up this vagrant? He reeks and he’s half-dead. Get him out of here!” Dad sat on the sofa, his face ashen: “What on earth are you doing? Do you want all the neighbors to laugh at us?” But I paid them no mind. I was born with shallow familial bonds. I was born at 4:44 AM, my cries as faint as a kitten’s mew. The nurse handed me to Mom, but she recoiled in disgust. Dad stood by, uttering only one sentence: “This child is bad luck.” Later, Rose was born, a rosy-cheeked, adorable baby who loved to cuddle, fulfilling all their expectations. From then on, all the warmth and attention in the household fell upon her. I became a ghost in my own home. When I was little, I once fainted with a fever, and they told the neighbors I was just “sleeping in.” When asked about my favorite food, they’d say “leftovers.” Even though I was older than Rose, I had to wear her hand-me-downs… Their favoritism brought me no sorrow, no expectation, only indifference. I didn’t care if they loved me or not; my heart was never truly here. This “Nine Transformations of the Lucky Carp” aura, that was what I truly desired. It wasn’t ordinary good fortune, but a celestial aura capable of rewriting destiny and wielding ultimate creation. Held in my grasp, it offered the absolute power to control my own life. To soar ninety thousand miles high, with the sky as my limit, unshackled. With it, everything I desired would be within reach. So I said, word by word: “I want him.” Everyone thought I was mad. I brought a beggar home, not only spending a fortune on a private doctor and imported antibiotics for him, but also paying high prices to enroll him in the most elite financial trading courses. When Rose saw the man, bandaged from head to toe, seriously studying “Security Analysis” in the room, she burst out laughing: “Sister, are you completely infatuated with a beggar? Does he even know how to spell ‘finance’?” Mom followed suit, glaring at me and lamenting with disappointment: “What’s so good about this beggar? This is just throwing money down the drain!” I didn’t even look up, replying calmly: “It’s my money; I’ll throw it however I like.” Indeed, the money I had saved over the years by performing feng shui readings and fortune-telling was now being poured into him like water. I even spent a small fortune on a tourmaline ring, which I gave to him. Everyone thought I was crazy for a man, completely infatuated with a beggar. Only I knew that once he passed this final hurdle, Finn would rise. And I would use his aura to defy fate, to reshape my destiny. Finn, resilient as a pine, sustaining fortune. “Finn, don’t disappoint me.” He certainly didn’t disappoint me. In three months, Finn completed all his financial courses. I gave him seed money to register Aura Capital. In the fifth month, he targeted the stock market, precisely shorting overhyped green energy stocks, profiting two hundred million in a week, making a name for himself overnight. In the seventh month, he transitioned to the commodity futures market. I helped him anticipate policy shifts, earning another eight hundred million. In just one year, Aura Capital grew from a small startup to a giant in the financial world. Finn, too, topped financial headlines, becoming the city’s most sought-after new billionaire, mysterious and low-key. As CEO, I remained steadily by his side. That day came quickly. Finn’s injuries were fully healed, and the bandages were removed from his face. When he was invited to the annual Outstanding Entrepreneur Awards, the entire financial world buzzed with excitement. Major media outlets converged, sensing a story: “One Year to City’s Top Billionaire! Mysterious Newcomer Finn Makes First Public Appearance!” Amidst widespread anticipation, Finn made his entrance. He stood against the light, his eyes like bright stars, tall and slender. In that moment, the entire venue fell silent. A moment later, thunderous applause erupted. Finn’s acceptance speech mentioned only one name: Alicia Stone. The tourmaline ring on his left ring finger shimmered under the spotlights. Now, he had commissioned a matching one for me, personally placing it on my ring finger. He also announced our wedding date: one month later. The media instantly exploded, camera flashes popping everywhere. “Breaking news! The new billionaire, who rose to the top in just one year, makes his first public appearance to propose!” “Oh my god, such a handsome and devoted billionaire, he’s like a perfect character from a novel!” “What more could one wish for after marrying him?!” And I, up close, observed Finn’s strong nose and his lightly pressed lips. The fortune-transferring formation would be fully complete in less than a month. Once I obtained the top-tier Lucky Charm aura, I would soar. By then, Finn would be marrying into wealth. Keeping him wouldn’t be out of the question. However, no one noticed that Rose, working as an intern reporter that day, was also present. She stared blankly at the man on stage, her lips slightly parted, her hands tightly clasped over her chest, as if the surrounding commotion held no meaning for her. Only the frantic thumping of her own heart remained. She murmured dreamily: “My… Prince Charming has truly appeared…” That evening, I returned home after signing contracts at the office. My room door was ajar. Peeking in, I saw Finn sitting at my desk, and Rose was inexplicably wearing my pajamas. The next second, Rose suddenly hugged Finn from behind. Her face was flushed, her eyes fluttering like a startled deer. Finn turned around, realizing it wasn’t me, and yet he didn’t immediately push Rose away. As the two exchanged gazes, sparks flying, I kicked the door open. Rose, like a frightened deer, pulled back her hands and clasped them over her chest. “Sister, you scared me! Why are you always so rough?” I retorted, exasperated: “Why are you in my room wearing my pajamas?” She lowered her head shyly, twisting the hem of the pajamas, and said: “My pajamas are all in the wash, and Mom said I could wear your clothes. You don’t mind, do you, Sister?” “Actually, these pajamas are a bit small on you, Sister. They fit me perfectly.” “And I think I look better in your pajamas.” Shameless, I scoffed: “Get out.” Rose’s eyes instantly welled up. She bit her lower lip. “Sister, why are you so mean to me? We’re sisters, can’t I come into your room? Do you dislike me so much that you always target me?” With that, she looked on the verge of tears, casting a pleading glance at Finn. I also looked at Finn. He frowned, pondered for a moment, then said: “Rose is innocent and kind-hearted; she means no harm.” “And you’re Rose’s older sister, you shouldn’t be so harsh with her.” Rose quickly covered Finn’s mouth with her small hand: “Don’t talk about Sister like that for my sake. I don’t want you two to argue because of me. You two should always be happy together.” After speaking, she wiped her tears with her small hand and ran out, head bowed. I heard her soft sobs in the living room. “I never imagined… my ideal Prince Charming… would be right here in our home. Isn’t this a heaven-sent destiny… but he’s Sister’s…” And Mom and Dad’s comforting voices. “He’s not married, she’s not married… how is he your sister’s then?” “A girl should be brave… pursue true love.” Looking at Finn’s slightly dazed eyes. I knew he was beginning to change. A few days later, as soon as I arrived at the office in the morning, HR handed me a new hire form. Rose Stone. Her position was Chairman’s Special Assistant. I, the CEO, knew nothing about it. As I walked towards Finn’s office, I heard Rose’s sweet voice from inside. “Finn, you’re so good to me, giving me such a high salary. Sister won’t be angry, will she?” Through the crack in the door, I saw Rose leaning across the desk, straightening Finn’s tie. Finn looked down slightly, his gaze at her holding a hint of indulgence.

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