Category: English

My sister was experiencing a complicated, life-threatening labor, and our father, a top obstetrician, was the only one who could save her. In my past life, I called him without a second thought. After I practically begged on my knees, my father abandoned his honeymoon with his new wife, turned around, and performed the surgery. My sister was saved, but soon after, we received horrifying news. My stepmother, suffering a severe depressive episode, had thrown herself into the ocean and committed suicide. Before she died, she left a suicide note accusing my sister and me of bullying her for a decade. She claimed the honeymoon was her last lifeline, the final reason she gave herself to keep living, and we had destroyed it. My father read the note and claimed he didn’t blame us. Yet, on the day we celebrated my newborn nephew’s one-month milestone, he poisoned everyone’s food. “If it weren’t for you two, Evelyn would still be alive.” “How did I end up with two such vicious, evil daughters? For the things you’ve done, dying a hundred times wouldn’t be enough.” He dragged my sister and me into the bathroom and brutally drowned us in the toilet, holding our heads under the water until we stopped moving. When I opened my eyes again, I had regressed back to the day my sister went into labor. … The very first thing I did after realizing I was reborn was sprint to my sister’s house. But I was still a step too late. Pushing the door open, a thick, metallic smell of blood hit me like a physical blow. My sister, Chloe, was lying on the floor in a massive pool of her own blood. My tiny nephew was lying beside her in the blood, the umbilical cord still attached. Shaking violently, I dialed 911, frantically searching for a blanket to wrap my nephew in to keep him warm. The ambulance arrived quickly and rushed us to the nearest hospital. Just as Chloe and the baby were wheeled into the emergency room, my brother-in-law, Mark, arrived. “Mia, how is she?!” He was deathly pale. It was freezing outside, but he was only wearing a thin dress shirt. He had clearly sprinted out the door the second he got the call. Before I could answer, an ER doctor rushed out. He told us Chloe’s condition was critical. She needed immediate, complex surgery, and there were only two specialists in the city capable of performing it: Dr. Arthur Sterling at the City Center Hospital, and Dr. David Vance at the State General Hospital. Before Mark could speak, I blurted out: “We’ll go to State General! Doctor, please arrange the transfer—” “Wait, why State General?” Mark interrupted me. “Dr. Arthur Sterling at City Center is your dad! He’s been Chloe’s primary physician this whole time; he knows her medical history inside and out. Obviously, transferring to City Center is the best option.” I told him point-blank: “Dad is about to leave on his honeymoon with Evelyn. We shouldn’t bother them.” In my past life, when I heard the doctor’s assessment, I immediately called my father and begged him to come back. Chloe was saved, but my stepmother killed herself. Her suicide note was a manifesto of our supposed cruelty, framing my phone call to my father as the final straw that broke her. The smell of that toilet water was putrid and revolting. I absolutely refused to die such a pathetic, agonizing death again. “Are you insane?! What’s more important, a honeymoon or your sister’s life?!” Mark pulled out his phone and immediately dialed my father’s number. It rang for a long time before my father finally answered, sounding incredibly annoyed. “What is it?” Mark quickly summarized Chloe’s critical condition and begged him to come back immediately. “Dad, Chloe’s situation is incredibly severe. Transferring her right now is a massive risk. Can you just come straight to this hospital and perform the surgery here? I’ll have them prep the OR immediately.” My father usually doted on Chloe. During her pregnancy, he had her admitted for observation at the slightest sign of discomfort. Mark was absolutely certain he would rush back. But this time, the response completely shocked him. “Mark, who told you to say that? Was it Mia?” “I never expected you to join the girls in bullying Evelyn.” “I personally examined Chloe this morning. Her vitals are perfectly stable, and there are absolutely no signs of premature labor. Do you have any conscience at all, pulling a stunt like this just to trick me into coming back?” My father viciously scolded Mark and abruptly hung up the phone. Mark stood frozen for a few seconds, then frantically redialed the number several times. My father’s phone was turned off. Even Evelyn’s phone went straight to voicemail. The ER doctor ran back out, urgently asking which hospital we had decided on. They had temporarily stabilized Chloe’s vitals, and she was ready for transport. Since we couldn’t reach my father, our only option was the much farther State General Hospital. Mark originally planned to ride in the ambulance with Chloe, but suddenly, the pediatric team announced that my newborn nephew was in distress. He needed to be rushed to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU), and a parent had to be present to sign consent forms. With his wife fighting for her life in one department and his newborn son crashing in another, Mark was completely paralyzed by panic, unable to make a decision. I grabbed his arm to ground him. “Mark, I will ride with Chloe to State General. You stay here and take care of the baby.” Mark’s eyes instantly turned red. He gripped my hand tightly. “I’m counting on you, Mia. Please, make sure she survives.” I nodded firmly. Chloe is five years older than me. Our mother died giving birth to me. We grew up without a mother. Our father was always consumed by his work, so Chloe and I practically raised each other. She is, without a doubt, the most important person in my life. Despite mentally preparing myself, seeing Chloe lying there unconscious, her face completely drained of color, broke me. I couldn’t stop the tears. During the entire ambulance ride, I kept talking to her, desperately praying she would pull through. Thanks to the police escort we arranged, the usual hour-long drive took only forty minutes. When we arrived, Dr. Vance told me he was still finishing up another surgery. He instructed me to go straight to the ward and find the Head Nurse to get Chloe formally admitted. Once he finished, he would head straight to our OR. But when we reached the ward, the nurses flat-out refused us entry. They told us, “There are no available beds.” Panicking, I said, “We spoke to Dr. Vance before we arrived! He authorized the admission!” A young nurse rolled her eyes. “Dr. Vance is rarely on the floor; he doesn’t know the current bed status. We literally do not have a single bed left in this department. It doesn’t matter if you know the Director, or even the hospital President. We can’t materialize a bed out of thin air.” I was on the verge of crying. I spotted an empty gurney parked in the hallway. “Can’t we just use that gurney? She can just stay on that! Please, you have to help us. My sister is hemorrhaging, and Dr. Vance is the only one who can perform the surgery.” The young nurse glanced at Chloe lying on the transport stretcher, then threw her hands up. “I’m just a junior nurse. I don’t have the authority to add extra beds to the floor. You need to talk to the Head Nurse.” She gave a pointed look toward the door with the ‘Head Nurse’ plaque. I understood immediately and rushed toward the office. Seeing the woman inside, I cried out in relief, “Aunt Nancy!” The woman was Nancy Lewis, one of my mother’s former colleagues. After my mother passed away, she frequently visited Chloe and me. Before she could speak, I grabbed her arm like a drowning person grabbing a lifeline. “Aunt Nancy, please, you have to admit my sister! She’s having a complicated labor and severe hemorrhaging! She needs surgery right now!” Nancy, who was famously known for her gentle demeanor, instantly scowled and yanked her arm out of my grasp. “Mia, I can’t believe you actually came to our hospital. Take your sister and go home right now. Stop causing a scene. Your father used to work at this hospital! Half the staff here know him! Acting out like this is completely destroying his reputation!” Her words hit me like a physical blow to the head. My ears started ringing violently. “Aunt Nancy, what are you talking about?! I’m not acting! My sister is genuinely having a complicated labor! If you don’t believe me, just step outside and look at her!” I grabbed her hand, trying to pull her out of the office. If she just looked at Chloe, she would instantly know I was telling the truth. “Mia, I have actual work to do! I don’t have time to play games with you!” “Your father just called me! He told me he was taking your stepmother on a makeup honeymoon, and that you and your sister were so furious about it you decided to pull this sick prank to ruin their trip!” Nancy’s voice grew increasingly stern and reprimanding. “Mia, I know you resent your stepmother, but raising you two wasn’t easy for her. I hear she’s even battling severe depression. You cannot bully her like this! And a hospital is absolutely not the place for your theatrical tantrums! Take your sister and leave immediately!” Listening to her, I felt like I was losing my mind. If my father were standing in front of me right now, I would literally scream in his face. I never imagined he would go to such extreme, sociopathic lengths. He knew we were transferring Chloe here for life-saving surgery, so he preemptively used his connections to ensure we would be denied entry. But this wasn’t the time to argue about his motives. I desperately tried to explain, “Aunt Nancy, you’re misunderstanding! We aren’t lying! My sister is actually hemorrhaging! I even contacted Dr. Vance before we came! If you don’t believe me, call him!” Nancy looked at me with profound disappointment. “Mia, you are crossing a massive line. I can’t believe you dragged the Director into your petty drama.” “Do you have any idea that Dr. Vance is currently performing a highly complex, critical surgery?! If your phone call distracted him, and his hand slipped, the surgery could fail! You could permanently ruin a young woman’s chance of ever having children!” “Medical resources are not your personal playthings! You need to call Dr. Vance immediately and apologize!” The girl on Dr. Vance’s operating table was young, yes, but so was my sister! Furthermore, before we left the first hospital, the ER doctor explicitly warned us: if Chloe didn’t get surgery within two hours, her chances of survival were basically zero. Thinking of that, I dropped to my knees without a second’s hesitation. “Aunt Nancy, I’m begging you! I am not lying! My sister is dying! Please, just process the admission!” I aggressively slammed my forehead against the floor, kowtowing to her several times. Nancy froze, her rigid expression finally showing a flicker of doubt. Just as she was about to step out and check, the office door flew open. A junior nurse poked her head in. “Head Nurse, are we admitting that patient in the hallway or not? They’re blocking the entrance to the ward and currently screaming at another patient’s family!” Hearing this, Nancy and I immediately rushed out of the office. At the entrance to the ward, the paramedics who had transported Chloe were in a heated screaming match with the family members of another patient. Apparently, the patient had accidentally bumped into one of the paramedics while walking past, and the interaction quickly escalated into a full-blown shouting match. Nancy quickly intervened, separating the two groups. After soothing the patient and their family and escorting them back to their room, she marched directly toward me. I stepped forward anxiously. “Aunt Nancy, can we process the admission now?” Smack! Nancy delivered a stinging slap across my face. “Where did you hire these actors?! They have absolutely zero class! Don’t they know there are sick people resting here?! Take these people and leave immediately, or I’m calling security!” My cheek burned like fire. I stared at her in utter disbelief. “How could you hit me?!” “Why shouldn’t I hit you?!” Nancy glared at me fiercely. “I am your elder! Don’t you feel an ounce of shame causing a massive scene in a hospital?! You clearly lack proper upbringing! You have absolutely no sense of decency or proportion!” You lack proper upbringing because you don’t have a mother. I had heard those exact words from countless people throughout my life. But it had never hurt as agonizingly as it did in this exact moment. Does not having a mother mean my words are inherently untrustworthy? Does not having a mother mean my sister doesn’t deserve medical treatment? I knew arguing with her was completely pointless. I violently wiped away my tears. “Fine! Fine! Nancy Lewis, you refuse to admit my sister? There has to be someone in this massive hospital who will! I’m going straight to the President’s office right now to see if he’ll handle this!” Seeing that I was actually going to escalate it to the President, Nancy panicked. She ordered two junior nurses to physically block my path. Then, she grabbed a phone and called security. “Security! We have individuals causing a severe disturbance on the maternity ward! Get up here and remove them immediately!” Security arrived in under three minutes. With a wave of Nancy’s hand, they began forcefully pushing us, and Chloe’s stretcher, toward the exit. I clung to the stretcher with a death grip, refusing to let them move it, sobbing hysterically for the entire floor to hear. “What right do you have to kick us out?! Isn’t this a hospital?! Aren’t you supposed to save lives?! My sister is critically ill, and you refuse to even look at her! How dare you call yourselves medical professionals?!” My screaming was so intense it drew a massive crowd of patients and their families. Even the two junior nurses seemed hesitant. They turned to Nancy and said cautiously: “Head Nurse… I don’t think they’re acting. Look at the woman on the stretcher. She hasn’t moved an inch. She looks like she’s genuinely unconscious.” “Yeah, she looks incredibly pale. Maybe you should at least quickly assess her before making a final decision?” Their words seemed to finally break through Nancy’s stubbornness. She hesitated for a few seconds and took a step toward the stretcher to take a closer look. Right at that moment, her phone rang. She answered it. “Dr. Sterling? Where are you? Your two daughters are causing a massive scene on my floor.” My heart sank like a stone. It was my father. The hallway was relatively quiet, so my father’s voice projected clearly from the phone speaker for everyone to hear. “They already caused a massive scene at another hospital, and now my former colleagues are calling me about it. Evelyn’s blood pressure spiked because of all this stress. I’m bringing her to your hospital for an evaluation right now. Kick those girls out immediately. I don’t want Evelyn to get upset if she sees them.” Hearing those words, I completely lost whatever shred of sanity I had left. “Arthur Sterling, have you lost your fucking mind?! Your daughter is hemorrhaging and needs emergency surgery! You refuse to operate on her yourself, and now you’re actively preventing anyone else from saving her?! What happens if she dies right here?!” My father let out a cold, cynical laugh. “Then let her die. I don’t want daughters like you anyway.” The call ended. I heard several people in the crowd gasp in horror. A father that ruthless is truly a rare sight. Nancy’s face hardened as she walked toward me. “Mia, you heard him. Stop intentionally antagonizing your father and your stepmother. They have it hard enough.” The moment the words left her mouth, someone in the crowd shrieked in terror. “Oh my god! So much blood!” Nancy and I whipped our heads around simultaneously. The blanket covering Chloe was completely soaked in thick, dark crimson. The blood was dripping rapidly off the edge of the stretcher… Pooling into a massive, terrifying puddle on the linoleum floor. The visual shock was so catastrophic my brain completely shut down for several seconds. Then, I threw myself onto the stretcher like a rabid animal. “Chloe! Hold on! You can’t die!” I turned and screamed at Nancy with homicidal fury: “What the fuck are you standing there for?! Get a doctor right now!” The junior nurse standing next to Nancy snapped back to reality and turned to run, but Nancy grabbed her arm. Nancy walked slowly toward me. “Mia, you and your sister are taking this act way too far. That volume of blood looks like she drained her entire body. Did you use chicken blood or pig blood for this stunt? Before you try to fake a hemorrhage, couldn’t you at least Google what a real one actually looks like?”

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I was auditing our credit card statements when I found it: a recurring monthly withdrawal of $3,450. The memo simply read “Mortgage Payment.” The thing is, we’d paid off our house three years ago. I stared at the screen for a long time, the blue light stinging my eyes. The withdrawal was coming from Madeline’s salary account, but the recipient was a loan contract number I didn’t recognize. I didn’t ask her about it. Instead, I copied the contract number into a locked note on my phone. 1. Madeline came home late that night. It was 11:30 PM when she pushed through the door, a gust of November chill clinging to her coat. “Work was a nightmare,” she muttered, barely looking at me before heading straight for the bathroom. I sat on the sofa, my gaze fixed on her coat draped over the armchair. The left pocket was bulging. I didn’t move. I waited until I heard the shower start, the steady hiss of water masking my footsteps. Inside the pocket was a crumpled property management bill. The Lantern, Building 18, Unit 603. Quarterly HOA Fees: $1,260. I flipped the paper over. Under the owner’s name, it read: Madeline Vance. I stood there in the living room for three minutes, just staring at that name. The Lantern. I knew the place—a luxury high-rise downtown that had finished construction last year. Units there started at seven figures. I snapped a photo of the bill and tucked it back into her pocket exactly as I’d found it. The next morning, after she left for “an early meeting,” I opened my laptop. I’m a forensic accountant by trade; digging through digital footprints is what I do. I logged into the county property records using her social security number. There it was. The Lantern, Unit 603. 1,200 square feet. Purchased March 2022. Three years ago. The down payment had been $150,000. The mortgage was $1.1 million. The monthly payment? $3,450. I felt a phantom chill settle in my marrow. $150,000. In March 2022, Madeline had been two months pregnant. That was the same month our joint savings account had dipped by exactly $155,000. She told me she’d invested it in a friend’s tech startup. I had believed her. I had kissed her forehead and told her I trusted her instincts. I scrolled down to the title registration, and my heart skipped a beat. Owner of Record: Nathan Brooks. My name. I stared at those ten letters. Not Madeline. Not “The Brooks Family Trust.” Just me. Then the memory hit me like a physical blow. Back in 2022, the city had passed a luxury tax and zoning restriction—residents who already owned two properties faced massive surcharges on a third. Madeline already had our primary residence and the cottage she’d inherited from her parents. She couldn’t buy a third. So, she had used me. She’d used my identity, forged my signature on the digital loan documents, and bought a secret life in my name. She probably thought that since she was the one making the payments, the title didn’t matter. I looked at the screen and started to laugh. It was a dry, hollow sound that echoed through our empty house. I screenshotted everything and moved it into an encrypted folder. I didn’t know who she’d bought that condo for yet. But I knew that while she was carrying our child, she was stealing our future to build a nest for someone else—using my own name as the foundation. I’d keep that receipt. I just needed to see who was currently living in Unit 603. 2. I didn’t go there right away. I waited a week. In that week, I did my homework. I pulled Madeline’s personal bank statements. We’d been married for ten years; I knew every password she had. The trail was fascinating. Aside from the $3,450 mortgage, there was a steady, monthly transfer of $1,500 to an account held by someone named Silas Thorne. When I saw the name, the air left my lungs. Silas Thorne. Three years ago, he was the intern in my department. I was the one who interviewed him. I was the one who mentored him through his first big project. I was the one who wrote the glowing recommendation that got him hired full-time. On the day he got his permanent offer, he’d bought me a coffee and called me his “hero.” “Nathan,” he’d said, “meeting you is the luckiest thing that’s ever happened to me.” I’d clapped him on the shoulder and told him he’d earned it. I closed my eyes, doing the math. $1,500 a month for three years. That’s $54,000. Add the $150,000 down payment and the $124,200 in mortgage payments… I grabbed a calculator. Total: $328,200. Nearly a third of a million dollars of our marital assets, poured into the pocket of the kid I had hand-reared at work. On Saturday morning, Madeline said she had to go into the office to “catch up on some filings.” I waited thirty minutes, then drove to The Lantern. It was a sleek, glass-and-steel needle of a building. I sat in my car for twenty minutes. Then I saw it. A black Audi pulled into the underground garage. Madeline’s car. Five minutes later, a young man walked out of the lobby to meet her by the elevator bank. He had that messy-cool hair, an expensive linen shirt, and a smile that looked like sunshine. Silas. He looped his arm through Madeline’s, and they walked into the building together. It was intimate. Practiced. It wasn’t the first time, or even the tenth. It was the rhythm of a couple that had been living together for years. I sat in my car, watching their silhouettes disappear behind the frosted glass doors. I didn’t cry. My grip on the steering wheel was so tight my knuckles turned a ghostly white. I drove home, stopping at a 24-hour printing shop. I printed out a fresh copy of the property deed. Owner: Nathan Brooks. I folded the paper neatly and tucked it into my laptop bag. When Madeline came home at 7:00 PM, she looked exhausted. “I’m wiped,” she said, dropping her keys. “I’m sure,” I said, setting a bowl of homemade soup in front of her. “Drink this. You need your strength.” She smiled, oblivious, and took a sip. I watched her face—the face that had been pressed against another man’s all afternoon. “This is delicious,” she said. “Good,” I replied. I could wait. I wasn’t in a hurry. 3. For the next month, I played the part of the doting husband. I went to work, I cooked dinner, I played with our daughter. I was the perfect picture of domestic stability. But at night, while Madeline slept, I went to work. I spent two nights scrolling through her cloud backups. Her phone was set to auto-sync, and the password was our anniversary. She’d clearly forgotten she’d ever set it up. The message history was a map of betrayal. It started in January 2022. The first suggestive text was dated March 8, 2022. International Women’s Day. That evening, Madeline was at the clinic for an ultrasound. She’d texted Silas: Are you alone? I’m coming over. I remembered that day. The ultrasound results had shown the baby’s position was a bit precarious. The doctor told her to rest. I’d called her, and she’d told me she was at a “late dinner with a client.” “Don’t worry, honey,” I’d told her. “Just get home safe.” She hadn’t come home until 11:00 PM, claiming her client had too many martinis and she had to call him an Uber. Now I knew exactly who she’d been taking care of. I kept scrolling. March 17, 2022—the day I signed Silas’s permanent contract recommendation. That night’s chat: Silas: I’m officially in! Nathan signed the papers today! Madeline: We need to celebrate properly. Silas: Where? Madeline: Your place. I’ll bring the champagne. Silas sent a suggestive emoji. There were no messages after that. They didn’t need messages for what happened next. I put the phone down, my hands shaking. While I was helping this kid build his career, he was in bed with my wife “celebrating.” I went further. May 2022. Madeline’s text: The mortgage is approved. We get the keys next month. How do you want to decorate? Silas: Seriously?! I want that Scandinavian look. Light wood, warm tones, cozy everywhere. Madeline: Whatever you want, baby. Silas: Our home. Madeline: Our home. “Our home.” Madeline was five months pregnant then. I was spending my weekends painting the nursery, making sure every corner was safe for our baby. And she was on her phone, building a “home” with a twenty-four-year-old. I saved every screenshot. From 2022 to 2024. 487 images. Each one was a razor blade. But I didn’t use them yet. I had a much better plan. 4. Four details in the chat logs caught my eye. First: August 2022. Madeline was eight months pregnant. Madeline: I’m coming over for a couple of hours. The doctor says I shouldn’t overexert myself, so I have to be back early. Silas: Okay, hurry up then. I checked my calendar. In August 2022, she had visited him at least three times a week. Even when she was struggling to walk, she made sure she saw him. Second: January 2023. One month after our daughter was born. The baby was colicky. I remember those nights vividly—waking up four times a night to fix bottles, rocking her until my back screamed, then going to work on three hours of sleep. Madeline had moved to the guest room, saying she “didn’t want to disturb my sleep since I had to work.” In the logs, at 3:00 AM while I was warming a bottle in the kitchen, she was on a video call with Silas. Duration: 47 minutes. She hung up right as I finished burping the baby. Third: June 2023. Silas: Are you sure about the money for the down payment? Madeline: It’s from our savings, don’t worry about it. Silas: But… isn’t that his money too? Madeline: I earned that money. I’ll spend it how I want. Silas: But what if he finds out? Madeline: He won’t. And once I file for divorce, everything in that condo will be ours. She had been planning to leave me for three years. While she was pregnant. While she was “recovering.” While I was doing the 3:00 AM feedings. She was already mentally moved into Unit 603. Fourth: September 2024. Just two months ago. Silas: The contractor says the HOA is flagging the renovation. They’re saying it’s not to code and we have to tear it out. Madeline: What? Silas: They said the owner hasn’t signed off on the permits. Madeline: I’ll handle the HOA. I’ll just forge the signature again. Silas: I already spent $15,000 on those floors, Madeline. I’m not losing that money. Madeline: I’ll give you more. Just find a better contractor. Silas: No, I want to use my own savings for this part. I want to feel like I’m contributing to our home. Madeline: You’re so sweet. I read that last part twice. He wanted to use his savings to renovate “their home.” The home that, legally, belonged to me. I smiled. By all means, Silas. Renovate away. 5. I called my oldest friend, Bennett. He’s a high-stakes divorce attorney who eats people like Madeline for breakfast. I laid it all out for him. The bank statements, the deed, the 487 screenshots. He spent half an hour reviewing the file before looking up at me. “Nathan,” he said, “this is a bloodbath.” “Is it enough?” “It’s more than enough,” Bennett said. “The down payment was marital property. The mortgage was paid with marital property. But the deed? The deed is solely in your name. Legally, that condo is 100% yours.” “I know.” “If she tries to fight for it, she has to prove she used her separate funds, which she can’t because it’s all coming from your joint existence. You hold all the cards.” “Good.” “So, when do we file?” “Not yet,” I said. “I want him to finish the renovations first.” Bennett blinked. “Excuse me?” “He told her he wants to use his own life savings to fix up ‘their home.’ I think I should let him. It’s only polite.” Bennett leaned back in his chair, a slow, predatory grin spreading across his face. “Nathan Brooks. You are a much colder man than I thought.” “I’m not cold, Bennett,” I said. “I’m just an accountant. I’m making sure the books are balanced.” That afternoon, I visited the property management office at The Lantern. I met with the manager, a guy named Miller. I showed him the original deed and my ID. “I’m the owner of 603,” I said. Miller checked his system. “Mr. Brooks. Nice to finally meet you. We’ve had some… issues with your unit.” “I know. The renovation?” “Yes, a young man has been spearheading it. He claimed to be family.” “He isn’t,” I said. “He’s a tenant. And apparently, he’s been doing work without my authorization.” Miller looked nervous. “Oh, God. We’ve already issued several stop-work orders.” “Here’s what we’re going to do,” I said, sliding my business card across the desk. “From now on, any issue regarding 603 goes through me. Not her. Not him. If a single nail gets driven into a wall, I want to know. But for now… let them keep working. Just keep a very close eye on the ‘safety violations’.” “I understand, Mr. Brooks.” I walked out into the sunlight. Building 18 loomed above me. Through the sixth-floor windows, I could see the faint flicker of a construction light. Work hard, Silas, I thought. Make it beautiful. 6. Silas’s first renovation attempt, according to the chat logs, cost him about $20,000. He went for the “Scandi-chic” look—expensive oak floors, custom grey cabinetry, and imported Italian tile. He was obsessed. He spent a week picking out light fixtures. I watched the progress through the photos he sent Madeline. Every picture was captioned with a string of heart emojis. Madeline: It looks stunning, baby. Silas: It’s our sanctuary! On the day the floors were finished, he posted a photo of himself standing in the middle of the empty living room, arms wide, grinning like he’d won the lottery. Caption: Finally, home. That caption felt like a needle in my heart. Then, I made a phone call. “Mr. Miller? It’s Nathan Brooks. I was looking over the HOA bylaws. Does Unit 603 have a valid permit for those new floors? Because I never signed one.” Three days later, Silas messaged Madeline in a panic. Silas: The HOA showed up! They’re saying the renovation is unauthorized! They’re demanding an owner’s signature or they’re going to fine us $500 a day!

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The wine stain bloomed across Gavin’s crisp white dress shirt like a fresh, jagged wound. It happened in slow motion—the stumble, the splash, the collective gasp of the entire marketing department. Gavin excused himself to the restroom to clean up, leaving a vacuum of silence that was instantly filled with frantic whispering. Everyone was placing bets on whether he’d explode. “I bet three rounds of shots he loses it,” one colleague hissed, leaning over the table. “Remember the intern who spilled coffee on his files? She was packing her box the next morning.” “I wouldn’t be so sure,” another chimed in, eyebrows raised. “Didn’t you hear? That’s Felicity. She’s the boss’s one that got away.” A sharp intake of breath swept through the group. The gossip continued, voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. “They say they only broke up because she moved to Paris after graduation. But look who’s back. And look where Gavin is now. Why do you think he took this job?” “Exactly. He’s been waiting for her. Give it a week, and they’ll be the power couple of the year.” Beside me, a coworker nudged my elbow, nearly knocking over my water. “Norah, didn’t you go to the same university as them? Come on, spill the tea. Was their love story really as epic as everyone says?” “Yeah, tell us! Why did they break up?” I sat there, my hand in my pocket, fingers curling around the cold, hard metal of a wedding band I had taken off five minutes ago. I’ve been secretly married to Gavin for a year. 1 The excitement in their eyes was palpable, a spotlight I didn’t want. They were waiting for me to narrate the legendary romance between the icy genius and the campus queen. I sat in the darkest corner of the private booth, usually content to be part of the wallpaper. But now, with a dozen pairs of eyes on me, the air felt thin. Just as I opened my mouth to deflect, the door swung open. Felicity breezed in, Gavin’s suit jacket draped casually over her arm like a trophy. “Gavin said not to wait for him,” she announced, her smile dazzling enough to light up the dim room. “He wants us to keep the party going.” She hadn’t changed a bit since college. The moment she entered a room, she owned it. My colleagues exchanged looks that screamed I told you so. The intimacy of using his first name, the jacket—it was all the confirmation they needed. Gavin and Felicity. Even their names sounded like a title on a bestseller list. One of the bolder guys, fueled by liquid courage, called out, “So, Felicity, give us the scoop. Is there still a spark between you and the boss?” Felicity didn’t look surprised. She blinked playfully, a practiced gesture. “Oh, that’s ancient history. Gavin forbid me from talking about it.” The table erupted in knowing “Ooooohs.” She feigned shyness, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. ” seriously, don’t bring it up in front of him. He’s got thin skin about these things. I don’t want him getting mad at me later.” The teasing grew louder. She hadn’t confirmed anything, yet she’d confirmed everything. When Gavin finally returned, the wine stain faded but still visible, the conversation died down. No one dared question him directly, but the atmosphere was charged. Eyes darted between him and Felicity like spectators at a tennis match. People kept dropping buzzwords into the conversation—”first love,” “regret,” “youth.” The ring in my pocket had a sharp edge. It dug into my thigh through the thin fabric of my dress, a physical anchor to a reality that felt increasingly like a dream. My gaze drifted to Gavin’s left hand. It was bare. On the day we picked up our marriage license, his mother had given us matching bands. Gavin had looked at it, polite but distant, and said he wasn’t in the habit of wearing jewelry. His ring was currently gathering dust in a drawer in his study. I regretted coming tonight. Gavin sat there, a statue of ice, radiating his usual “do not approach” aura. He only spoke once, when Felicity, flushed with wine, started to sway in her seat. “Let’s call it a night,” he said. His voice was low, final. When the boss speaks, people move. Chairs scraped against the floor as everyone scrambled to organize rides. Someone pushed Felicity slightly toward Gavin. “Boss, Felicity’s pretty wasted. It’s not safe for her to take a cab alone. Can you drop her off?” Gavin’s eyes lifted, locking onto mine across the room. Before I could breathe, Felicity stumbled, her heels giving way, and she collapsed softly into his chest. I turned around and walked out the door. I practically ran. Behind me, I heard his voice, muffled by the distance. “Give me her address.” I hailed a cab alone. The city lights blurred as we drove, rain streaking the windows. Back at the apartment—our apartment—I filled the bathtub until the water was scalding. I submerged myself, letting the heat seep into my bones, and finally, the tears I’d been holding back all night broke free. Pathetic, I told myself. What right do you have to be aggrieved? He was the moon—distant, cold, beautiful. I was lucky enough to have claimed the moon for a short while, even if I couldn’t keep it. We had barely spoken in college. Our only interaction was the time he asked me to turn in a group project for him because he was too busy bringing Felicity an umbrella in a storm. It was pure chance that I ended up as an intern in his department after grad school. It was pure fate that his mother turned out to be my eccentric older friend from the dog park. Under her pressure, he had approached me one afternoon. “Norah,” he’d said, looking at a spreadsheet rather than me. “Would you consider marrying me?” No dating. No proposal. Just a business merger of lives. We signed the papers that afternoon and went to work the next day. Except for moving in together, nothing changed. He never told a soul. To the world, Gavin was a highly eligible bachelor. Now, the leading lady had returned to the stage. It was time for the extra to exit. When I came out of the bathroom, dried and dressed in old pajamas, Gavin was home. He was sitting on the sofa, reading a file. The lamp cast sharp shadows across his face. I gathered every ounce of courage I had. I walked up to him. “Gavin, I…” His phone rang, cutting through the silence like a knife. He answered, listened for two seconds, and his expression darkened. He grabbed his coat. “I’m sorry. It’s an emergency. We’ll talk when I get back, okay?” He never went out late. Never. Thirty minutes later, the emergency updated her social media. Thanks to a certain someone for the late-night hangover soup. The photo showed a bowl of soup and, in the corner, the distinctive cuff of a man’s shirt. My colleagues were already flooding the comments, speculating about wedding bells, gushing over how the icy boss had melted for his true love. I looked at the screen. My moon was returning to the sky, where he belonged. 2 My period arrived with a vengeance that night. I spent hours curled in a fetal position, drifting in and out of pain-filled sleep. When I finally woke up, the other side of the bed was cold. Gavin had already left. He liked to be at the office by 7:30. I was a “slide in at 8:59” kind of person. We lived together, but we commuted separately. When I walked into the office, the air smelled of roasted beans. Felicity was standing in the center of the aisle, looking fresh and vibrant, handing out coffees from a cardboard carrier. “Treat for the team!” she chirped. “Since I’m the new girl.” Colleagues were fawning over her, praising the “Princess” for her kindness, promising to work double-time today. She stopped at my desk and handed me a large iced Americano. “Sorry, Norah,” she said, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “You came in a bit late, so this is the only one left.” My cramps were sending shockwaves through my lower back. Ice was the last thing I needed. But politeness is a reflex. “Thanks,” I muttered, taking the cup. I planned to dump it in the planter the moment she turned around. Partly because of the cramps. Mostly because it was from her. But Felicity didn’t leave. She stood there, her gaze drifting over me. “Norah, you’ve changed so much,” she said. “I almost didn’t recognize you last night.” “You’re thinner than you were in college. Prettier, too. I was surprised to find you working under Gavin.” In college, Gavin and I were in Class 3. She was in Class 1. We didn’t even share lecture halls. The fact that she remembered me was unsettling. She leaned against my partition, still smiling, but her eyes were scanning me like a barcode reader. It made my skin crawl. “I actually never thanked you for turning in that group project for Gavin back then,” she said breezily. “If you hadn’t, I would have been soaked waiting for him.” Then, the pivot. “Why did you choose this company, anyway? Did you know Gavin was here?” On the surface, it was casual small talk. But in an office full of sharks, it was blood in the water. It painted me as a stalker. I pressed my lips together, ready to retort, when the office door swung open. “Felicity. My office,” Gavin called out. She had been appointed directly by HQ as his executive secretary. “Coming!” She replied cheerfully, her heels clicking a rhythm of victory as she walked toward him. As the door clicked shut, the office buzzed again. I stared at the small framed photo on my desk. It was just me, taken on my birthday last year. The same day Gavin had asked me to marry him. I reached out and slid the back off the frame. Hidden behind the print was another photo. Younger, grainier. It was my college graduation. I was standing in front of the old humanities building, making a peace sign, looking goofy. My roommate had complained about the background. Why the ugly brick wall, Norah? Why not the fountain? I had told her the lighting was better. I lied. In the photo, five meters behind me, blurred but unmistakable, stood Gavin. At the exact moment the shutter clicked, he had looked up. He was looking right at the camera. Right at me. It was our first—and only—photo together. “Norah, meeting in the small conference room. Now.” I jumped, hastily shoving the photo into a folder on my desk. “Coming.” The “brief update” turned into a two-hour marathon. Cold sweat was trickling down my spine from the pain in my abdomen. When I finally stumbled out of the conference room, dizzy and nauseous, I saw a cluster of people around my desk. They were giggling. I walked closer, and my blood ran cold. Felicity was holding the photo. “So…” she drawled, flipping the picture over. She read the handwriting on the back, her voice loud and theatrical. “You are my moon.” She looked at me, her expression a mix of pity and amusement. “So I was right. You did stay here because of Gavin.” 3 I lunged for it. “Give that back!” She sidestepped me easily. “Norah, are you in love with him?” she asked, her voice dripping with faux innocence. Around us, the whispers turned into sneers. “She looks so quiet, but turns out she’s a creep,” someone muttered. ” ‘You are my moon’? God, I think I’m going to puke.” “Exactly. Felicity went abroad, sure, but Gavin waited three years for her. Hiding a photo like that? She’s trying to be a homewrecker.” “No wonder she worked so hard to pass the internship assessment. Talk about punching above her weight.” The air conditioning vent above me blasted freezing air. I was shaking. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell them I am his wife. I wanted to tell them that when we reconnected, they were already broken up. But I knew it wouldn’t matter. Because Gavin had never claimed me. Tears welled in my eyes, hot and stinging. I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted copper, refusing to let them fall. If I cried, I lost the last shred of my dignity. I snatched the photo from Felicity’s hand, ripping it in the process. I didn’t look at it. I tore it into shreds and dropped it into the trash can. “Happy?” I choked out. Felicity opened her mouth to twist the knife further, but the office door opened. “What is going on out here? Do you not have work to do?” Gavin’s voice cracked like a whip. The crowd scattered like cockroaches when the lights turn on. Gavin walked over to me. He looked at my pale face, then down at the trash can. He saw the fragments of the photo. “Why did you…” he started, his brow furrowing. I didn’t let him finish. I pushed past him, head down, and ran for the bathroom. I couldn’t look at him. Not now. I was terrified that if he knew—if he realized I had harbored feelings for him long before our arrangement—he would look at me with the same disgust as everyone else. I survived the rest of the day in a fugue state. When I walked out of the building at 5:00 PM, Felicity was waiting. “Norah. We need to talk.” We went to a coffee shop nearby. The smell of caramel usually comforted me; today it smelled like burnt sugar and judgment. “I called Gavin before I came back to the States,” Felicity said, not bothering to touch her drink. “He told me he was married. To you.” She laughed, a sharp, brittle sound. “I asked him if he loved you. Do you want to know what he said?” Her manicured fingernails tapped against the wooden table. Tap. Tap. Tap. I didn’t need to ask. The answer was obvious. If he loved me, she wouldn’t be sitting here. “Mrs. Gavin,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “If he wants a divorce, he needs to tell me himself.” Felicity looked surprised by my backbone, but her smirk returned quickly. “Oh, the divorce is happening. Now that I’m back, it’s just a matter of paperwork. But…” She leaned in, lowering her voice. “Do you really think Gavin didn’t know about your little crush back in college? Do you think nobody noticed you hoarding his graded papers?” My stomach dropped. “Do you know what he said when he found out?” She paused for effect. “He said, ‘That’s disgusting.’” It was true. Once, when he asked me to hand in an assignment, the graded papers were returned to me to distribute. I had kept his. I had kept it because his handwriting was beautiful, and it was the only thing of his I could own. To have that secret, that silly schoolgirl moment, dragged out and weaponized… the shame was blinding. I stood up and left her there. When I got home, Gavin was already there. On the coffee table in front of him lay a file folder. Only one word was visible on the cover: DIVORCE. Gavin took off his wire-rimmed glasses and looked at me. “Norah, there’s something I need to discuss with you.” 4 Gavin was, above all things, a decent man. Even in divorce, he wanted to “discuss.” What was there to discuss? Was he afraid I’d demand alimony? Was he afraid I’d cling to his leg and beg him to stay? I sniffed, fighting the congestion in my nose, and forced a smile. It felt like stretching calm over a screaming void. “It’s okay,” I said. “I understand.” “You can tell your mom. I’ll make it easy.” “Also… when do you need me to move out?” Gavin froze. For a second, genuine confusion clouded his eyes. I widened my smile until my face hurt. “Give it to me. You need a signature, right?” “Are you misunder—” The doorbell rang. Gavin stood up and opened the door. Felicity collapsed into his arms, sobbing. “Gavin! Someone was following me! I’m so scared…” She was wearing a lace slip dress—a stark contrast to the power suit from this morning, but equally calculated. She looked fragile. Beautiful. Maybe because I was standing right there, Gavin frowned and peeled her off him. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice tight. He glanced back at me, a flicker of panic in his eyes. I didn’t want to watch this. I waved my hand dismissively. “You guys talk. I’m going to the bedroom.” Gavin had given me enough respect during our marriage. I wasn’t going to be the pathetic wife lurking in the corner while the true loves reunited. I closed the bedroom door and leaned against it. My face, frozen in that rictus of a smile, finally collapsed. I buried myself in the duvet, biting down on the corner of the pillow to muffle the sound. The dam broke. I cried until my chest ached, until my eyes were swollen shut. When I finally emerged, the apartment was silent. Gavin was gone. Felicity was gone. I picked up my phone, intending to text him about the timeline for the filing. Instead, I saw Felicity’s new post. Two words: Conquered him. The photo was a selfie. On her pale neck, a fresh, dark hickey was prominently displayed. My phone slipped from my hand and hit the floor with a clatter. I picked it up, forcing my brain to shut down. Don’t imagine it. Don’t imagine them. I moved like a robot. Suitcase. Clothes. Toiletries. Laptop. I walked into the living room. The file on the table—the one that said DIVORCE—was gone. He must have taken it. I opened my laptop, downloaded a standard divorce agreement template, and filled in our details. I signed it. I left it in the center of the coffee table. Gavin, I thought. We are officially over. Gavin had spent three hours dealing with Felicity. He had dragged her to the police station to file a report for the “stalker,” and then he had driven to the office to submit his immediate resignation to Headquarters. It was nearly midnight when he unlocked his front door. He was exhausted. The apartment was dark. Norah must be asleep. He felt a knot of anxiety in his stomach. He didn’t know if she would agree to leave the city with him. He wanted to move to Seattle, start fresh, away from this toxic office culture. He flipped on the lights. His eyes locked onto the white paper sitting on the coffee table. DIVORCE AGREEMENT. 5 Gavin’s heart rate spiked so hard he felt it in his throat. He didn’t even take off his shoes. He stumbled over the edge of the rug in his haste to reach the table.

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When my driver’s son brought an unknown girl home and told me to take care of her, a stream of comments flashed before my eyes: “YES! The male and female leads are both reborn and they’ve met early! This time, they won’t be held back by society for years!” “This sweet romance would be so much better without the evil supporting female character messing things up.” “The evil rich girl uses her father’s position as a General to bully the male lead. She’s never once been nice to him.” “That evil girl thinks her family is the only reason the male lead got ahead. She wants him to worship her without any dignity. But honestly, without her, he could have become a powerful and untouchable figure all on his own.” The driver’s son looked at me, the polite deference he usually showed me completely gone. In its place was an arrogant disdain, a greedy glint in his eyes like a predator. I was curious to see how a reborn duo—an adopted orphan and a mysterious abandoned girl—planned to rise through the ranks and become untouchable tycoons in this day and age. 1 Nicholas sat on my living room sofa, opening a can of lychees for Amber and pouring them into my personal white porcelain bowl. He saw me staring at Amber and defensively shifted his body to block my view. “Beatrice, this is Amber, my girlfriend. From now on, you’ll be taking care of her personally.” “She has delicate skin, so her bedding needs to be the finest European linen. She’s not used to small rooms, so she’ll be staying in yours. You can move out.” He brazenly unwrapped a bar of exclusive, military-grade Swiss chocolate, handed it to Amber, and then shot me a look of disgust. “Beatrice, I’ll still be by your side, but I will never love you.” “If you continue to support my rise to power with everything you have, I might just let you live.” Amber leaned against Nicholas, as pliant as a vine. The shoes on her feet were the thick, woolen slippers my father had brought back from a trip to Europe especially for me. The comments before my eyes exploded with excitement: “Whoa, so dominant! He puts the rich girl in her place right from the start. Now THAT’S a real sweet romance.” “This double-reborn setup is awesome! The evil girl won’t get the chance to use her family’s power to force the ML to marry her or to ruin the FL’s reputation in a nightclub this time.” “In the last life, the evil girl forced the ML to study abroad in England for four years just to break them up. It was so tragic.” “Thank god when he returned, he found a powerful benefactor, destroyed the evil girl’s family, and framed them for treason so they could never recover.” Reading those words, a vein throbbed in my temple. Nicholas sat up straighter, his posture infused with the confidence and nobility of his past life’s power. “Mrs. Gable, peel me one of those heirloom pears. The ones freshly picked from the valley orchard.” The comments scrolled wildly, and I finally understood. I was living in a historical romance novel. And the evil, spoiled rich girl in the comments? That was me. According to the plot, Nicholas brings the homeless and destitute Amber back to my house for me to care for. They grow closer, and feelings blossom between them. I, unwilling to let my childhood friend be stolen away by Amber, begin a campaign of coercion and control. I use my family’s wealth and power to elevate him, hoping he’ll be indebted to me. I even use my connections to send him abroad to study, severing his ties with Amber. When Nicholas returns, he marries me, becoming the model husband in everyone’s eyes. But in his heart, he never stops yearning for the one who got away. Meanwhile, Amber, without Nicholas’s help, is forced to work in a nightclub to survive, losing her innocence in the process. Later, after finding a benefactor and gaining immense power, Nicholas sets Amber up in a life of luxury, spending every moment doting on her. He blames me for all the hardships she endured. He then conspires with outsiders to frame my family for treason, turning us into prisoners under investigation. By the time our names are cleared, my parents have died from the stress, and I am poisoned and killed by the two of them. They take my family’s fortune, flaunt their wealth, and travel the world. During a trip to the coast, they both drown—and are reborn. When they open their eyes, they are back on this very day, the day Nicholas first brought Amber to my home. My expression was cold. It was almost funny. An orphan adopted by my driver and a girl with no history to her name were going to turn my world upside down? The plot was utterly absurd. Nicholas, still believing he was the powerful son-in-law of the Wallace family, saw that our housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, hadn’t moved. He snapped at me, “What’s wrong with your family? Even your maids are this clueless?” In response to his contempt, I slapped him across the face. “Who the hell do you think you are, shouting in my house?” 2 Amber shot me a venomous glare before turning to caress Nicholas’s face, her voice dripping with concern. “I never knew Miss Wallace was so spoiled and unreasonable. In that case, she’s certainly not qualified to take care of me.” She linked her arm through Nicholas’s, leaning into him like a delicate bird. “Don’t lower yourself to her level by getting angry over a maid. We can just fire her and hire another. As for Miss Wallace, if she’s going to be so difficult, we should just kick her out.” She spoke as if she were the lady of the house. I had to laugh. “What makes you think you’re worthy of my care, let alone living in my house? You’re delusional.” “Mrs. Gable is my father’s official aide, a salaried government employee under military jurisdiction, not some maid you can order around as you please.” “Mrs. Gable, please dispose of anything these two vagrants have touched.” Before I could finish, Nicholas tilted his head back, his tone dripping with arrogance. “Beatrice, you severely lack discipline. I’m going to have to teach you a lesson on your father’s behalf!” The comments were a flurry of surprise: “Wait, why does the evil girl suddenly have a brain? Isn’t she supposed to willingly take care of the heroine and be a stepping stone for the hero, completely subservient to him?” “Did the plot change? And why is the hero acting so high and mighty? He’s just the driver’s son living off their charity.” “Heh. She’s just trying to get the hero’s attention. Pathetic little tricks.” Nicholas still looked utterly confident. “If you’re going to be so undisciplined, then get out of this house!” I couldn’t help but laugh. Was Nicholas completely delusional? Kicking me out of my own home? It seemed he was still stuck in his past-life role as the cherished son-in-law. By what right did he think he could tell me to get out? I picked up the receiver of the rotary phone and dialed the guards at the gate. “We have two troublemakers in the house. Please come and remove them.” Nicholas and Amber looked at me as if I’d just told the funniest joke. “Remove us? We’ll see who gets removed when the General gets home! You or me!” He was utterly certain. “In our last life, the General supported my rise to power with everything he had because he recognized my talent and ability. For me, he’ll definitely kick you out!” In the last life, with my father’s support, Nicholas had climbed the ladder of power step by step. My father’s favor meant that even the household staff and guards deferred to him. This had fed his ambition, but for him to act so high and mighty now? He must have lost his mind. When my father arrived home and took off his uniform jacket, Nicholas immediately swarmed him, acting as if my father would undoubtedly take his side. “General Wallace, you’ve raised a real piece of work for a daughter. She’s trying to kick me out! All I asked was for her to look after a helpless orphan like Amber, and the heartless girl slapped me.” My father was a traditional man who valued family harmony above all else. In our past life, whenever there was a conflict, he often urged me to be the one to back down. But now, my father just looked at Nicholas with a mixture of bewilderment and annoyance. Without even looking up, he spoke to the guards. “From now on, I don’t want just any stray wandering into this house. Especially not the ones who aren’t right in the head. What if Beatrice gets hurt?” Nicholas couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The General, who had always valued him, was being so callous. He composed himself and issued a command, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You should be kicking Beatrice out of this house. Only then will I fully support you and become your right-hand man!” My father actually laughed, as if he couldn’t believe his ears. “Sacrifice my own daughter for you? I’m a General. What makes you think I need a greenhorn who’s never seen a battlefield to be my right-hand man? Don’t be ridiculous.” “The only reason I ever let you come over was to keep Beatrice from getting bored.” Nicholas was stunned by my father’s attitude. “No, that’s not how it’s supposed to be! You’re supposed to admire me, to groom me to take your place! I’m meant to be your most prized subordinate, your favorite son-in-law!” My father just smiled and waved his hand, signaling the guards to drag him out. “I must have been too approachable. To think he’d dare to have designs on my Beatrice. How despicable.” A few quiet days passed before we got a call from The Grand Continental Hotel. Someone claiming to be General Wallace’s son was racking up a massive bill on our family’s account. The comments went wild again: “So cool, treating the heroine to a feast of delicacies. Is this the privilege of the upper class?” “After the hero gets the last tin of imported Russian caviar, he’s going to meet his benefactor. That caviar is his ticket to success. It’s only a matter of time before he crushes the evil girl’s family and uses them as a stepping stone.” “But wait, why is he acting like such a mooch, putting it all on the evil girl’s tab? That’s so scummy.”

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I dated my older stepbrother in secret for six years. The day before Valentine’s Day, I snuck over to his company to surprise him. But standing outside his office door, I accidentally overheard a conversation between him and a friend. “Haven’t you had enough fun playing with your little stepsister yet? When are you going to break up with her? Don’t tell me you actually fell in love with her.” Arthur Sterling’s lips curled into a mocking, cynical smirk. His voice was completely dismissive: “Fall in love with her? She’s just a free toy that delivered herself to my door. Why wouldn’t I use her? But the only woman I will ever marry is Chloe.” “Her mother ruined my parents’ marriage. These past six years are simply my revenge against her. This is the punishment she deserves.” It turned out that what I thought was love was nothing but a calculated act of revenge. His deep affection was entirely built on meticulously woven lies. Since that was the case, I would simply leave. 1 “Don’t worry about me. Just focus on preparing for my wedding with Chloe. As for Mia… I have plenty of ways to destroy her.” “Think about it. Falling in love with her own stepbrother, crawling into his bed every night to seduce him… when that shameless, disgusting scandal is exposed right in the middle of her mother’s wedding, do you think she’ll ever have the face to show herself in the Sterling household again? I honestly can’t wait.” The friend sitting across from him looked incredibly uncomfortable and offered a sincere warning: “Your parents had been divorced for three years before Mia’s mom even entered the picture. You can’t honestly blame Mia for that, can you? She was just starting college; she had no idea what the situation was with your family. Isn’t doing this to her a little too cruel?” “A girl’s reputation is everything. You’re basically trying to kill her! She loves you so much; if she finds out you only got with her for revenge, I’m afraid she might…” Arthur pursed his lips impatiently, pulled out his phone, and casually sent me a reaction sticker. “Her life is exactly what I want!” “Don’t talk to me about her being innocent. Was my mother innocent when she was abandoned?” “Coming from that woman’s womb is her own bad luck. She chose to degrade herself!” “If she was really so pure and innocent, she wouldn’t have agreed to sleep with me six years ago. Ending up like this is her own choice. She deserves it.” His friend let out a long sigh, asking one final question: “You can say that, but after six years together, I refuse to believe you haven’t felt anything for her.” “Arthur, I’m warning you as a friend. Once you do this, there is absolutely no turning back.” Arthur’s face instantly turned freezing cold, and he shot his friend a vicious glare. “Fall in love with the daughter of my enemy? What kind of person do you take me for?” “Looking at that face of hers, which looks exactly like her mother’s, makes me physically sick every time I kiss her!” “She was raised by a homewrecker; of course she’s a shameless little slut! Ruining her reputation is already showing her mercy!” Seeing that Arthur refused to listen, his friend sighed helplessly and left the office. Footsteps approached the door. I scrambled frantically to hide, but the bouquet of blue roses in my hands slipped and scattered all over the floor. His friend walked out and ran straight into me. His eyes filled with profound pity. Hearing the noise, Arthur walked out of the office. He saw me scrambling pathetically on the floor, trying to gather the scattered flowers. A flash of raw panic crossed his face, and he immediately rushed over to help me up. “Mia? Why are you here? When did you arrive?” I smiled, but tears fell from my eyes entirely against my will. “I just got here. I wanted to surprise you, but I’m so clumsy I couldn’t even hold the flowers.” He smiled indulgently, tossing the flowers aside carelessly. He pulled me into his office. The moment the door closed. He pinned me against the door. His burning body heat radiated through his clothes, pressing into me. But my entire body felt completely frozen. “I told you, you don’t need to get me gifts. Just having Mia here is the best gift I could ever ask for.” “You must be tired from the trip, right? Rest here for a bit. Once I’m done working, I’ll take you home.” After saying that, he pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. His actions were as tender and affectionate as always. But I could no longer feel his warmth. I never knew a person could commit so completely to an act just for revenge. When my mother first married into the Sterling family… At the wedding, I was crushed by the horrific insults of being a “homewrecker’s daughter,” unable to even lift my head. I hid in a dark corner and cried hysterically. It was Arthur’s appearance that offered me my only salvation. He silenced the vicious rumors for me. He promised he would protect me for the rest of my life and be my safe harbor. I believed every word he said. I drowned in the gentle warmth he offered, completely unable to pull myself out. I had no idea that everything was a meticulously calculated act of revenge. The so-called “love” was nothing but an illusion. He was the one actively pushing me into the abyss. While Arthur was busy working, I sent a text to my mother. “Mom, I want to study abroad.” “Please don’t tell anyone in the family yet.” On the drive back, he casually brought it up, acting like it was no big deal: “My dad is pressuring me to get married, so I found a friend to act as my fiancé.” “Don’t worry, you are the only person I will ever love. She agreed to help me keep up the facade, so I’ll still be living at home with you.” I stared at the scenery passing by outside the window and nodded silently. Tears fell soundlessly down my cheeks. The moment we got home, while he was in the shower, I unlocked his phone. 2 The pinned contact at the very top was named “Chloe.” I opened the chat. Below the cute, flirty reaction stickers… Were dozens of dense video files. Security camera footage from inside my own bedroom. The messages underneath them were even more devastating. “I told you, I only want revenge against her. I’m going to play these videos at the wedding. After that day, Mia will be permanently erased from the Sterling family. The only person standing by my side will be you.” “Before you officially marry into the family, I’m going to clear every single obstacle out of your way. From now on, you will only know happiness.” “Chloe, I love you.” I looked up at the stuffed animal he gave me six years ago. In the dim light of the room… A tiny, eerie red light blinked inside the toy’s eye. It turned out he had been planning how to eradicate me from the very beginning. It’s hilarious that I was so thoroughly immersed in his fabricated lies. Believing I was actually happy. I opened Arthur’s hidden photo album. It was completely filled with photos of him and Chloe. Dating all the way back to their college years. The photos meticulously documented their entire love story. Every major holiday, when he claimed he was swamped with work… He was actually with Chloe. Every single gift he ever bought me… He bought an identical one for Chloe. The only difference was, Chloe got things that I never did. The second chat thread I opened was with a wedding planning company. Arthur had been meticulously preparing for this wedding for six months. From selecting the venue to choosing the exact style of silverware for the reception. He handled every single detail personally. Even the security camera footage… he edited it himself. All for the sole purpose of utterly destroying our forbidden relationship in front of everyone at the wedding. A second before Arthur walked out of the bathroom… I locked his phone. And I bought myself a plane ticket to leave the country in three days. At the dinner table, Arthur’s father constantly brought up his upcoming wedding. Arthur pretended to be incredibly annoyed by it. But casually agreed to everything. Setting the wedding date for three days from now. The chopsticks in my hand clattered to the floor. The entire meal tasted like ash in my mouth. After dinner, my mother pulled me into my room, looking deeply concerned. “Why the sudden decision to go abroad? Didn’t you insist on joining the company to work with your brother? Did you tell him about this yet?” Looking at the gray streaks in my mother’s hair, my nose stung painfully. “No. I need you to keep this a secret from him.” “Mom, after I leave, just focus on living a good life with Uncle Sterling. Ignore what anyone else says.” I know how incredibly difficult it was for my mother to finally decide to remarry. Regardless of what Arthur believed, my mother had never, ever been the other woman in anyone’s relationship. Having her reputation completely destroyed shouldn’t be how her story ends. When I returned to my bedroom, Arthur was already waiting in my bed. Seeing me walk in, he immediately pulled me into his arms. His lips brushed affectionately against my ear. “Are you mad? You know we can’t go public with our relationship. I’m handling the wedding arrangements; it’s just a cover, an act. Don’t overthink it.” “Mia, I promise, you are the only one in my heart. Stop throwing a tantrum, okay? I bought you a present; it’ll be delivered tomorrow. You’re going to love it.” I swallowed my suffocating grief and smiled, nodding. He didn’t suspect a thing. He let out a sigh of relief and pulled me tighter against his chest. After a long pause, he said hesitantly: “It’s just that… this is a Sterling family wedding, so it has to be a major event. Since you’re my sister, you probably…” “Okay. I’ll be there.” I knew exactly what he was trying to say. Rather than waiting for him to force the issue, I might as well offer it myself. At least I could maintain some shred of dignity. He was shocked by my sudden change in attitude. But since he got what he wanted, he didn’t bother analyzing it. That night, he slept in my bed as usual. The next morning, before anyone else in the house was awake, I slipped out of my room. The second Arthur left the house, I walked out right behind him. I went to process my visa and finalize my university applications. I never expected to run into Chloe there. 3 Arthur was standing right behind her, his eyes overflowing with absolute adoration. The employees nearby were constantly whispering about them: “Is that CEO Sterling’s fiancée? Her aura is incredible! If I’m not mistaken, that bag she’s holding is a limited edition Hermes. You can’t even buy that just with money!” “It has to be her. I heard they started dating in college and have been together ever since. He even bought a private island abroad for their honeymoon! They’re probably here getting visas for a trip around the world, right?” “This is literally a romance novel come to life. I’m so jealous. If my boyfriend was even half as amazing as CEO Sterling, my life would be complete…” In my daze, the clerk processing my paperwork called out: “Ms. Sterling? Ms. Sterling? Your paperwork is finished.” His voice instantly drew Arthur’s attention. As I was shoving the documents into my bag, Arthur appeared right in front of me. His expression carried a microscopic, almost imperceptible trace of panic. “Mia? What are you doing here?” Chloe walked up from behind him, affectionately wrapping her arm around his. “You must be Arthur’s sister! Hi there.” “Since we’re going to be family soon, we should get to know each other.” My eyes swept over where their arms were linked. I smiled and nodded. “Sister-in-law.” “It’s nothing. I just came to help Mom sort out her visa. She’s been wanting to travel abroad for a while.” “I’ll leave you two to it. Have a good day.” I turned to walk away. But Arthur chased after me, grabbing my arm tightly. He frantically tried to explain: “Don’t overthink this. We’re only here today because my dad insisted. You know how seriously he takes this wedding; he practically forced me to take her traveling.” “He also wants Chloe to come over for dinner tonight. I’m just giving you a heads-up so you don’t misunderstand.” Watching him act so desperately anxious about my feelings… I suddenly found the entire situation hilarious. Chloe was his actual girlfriend of several years. The wedding was three days away, and his grand revenge plot was about to reach its climax. Who exactly was he putting this act on for? “Don’t worry, I know my place. Since it’s Uncle Sterling’s arrangement, just do as he asks. I wouldn’t cause a scene over something like that.” “You two go ahead. I’ll wait for you at home.” He let out a massive sigh of relief and personally hailed a cab to send me home. Then he turned around and took Chloe straight to a bridal boutique. 4 My mother and Uncle Sterling knew Chloe was coming over for dinner. They started preparing the meal right around noon. The moment Arthur and Chloe walked through the door… They handed her a red envelope containing ten thousand dollars. I used feeling unwell as an excuse to hide in my room. But Arthur walked in carrying a gift box. As he slipped the bracelet onto my wrist, he pulled a warm blue rose from his jacket pocket. He dropped to one knee on the floor. His eyes were filled with absolute devotion. “I know that being with me in secret, without a real title, is incredibly unfair to you. But after the wedding, I’ll still be your brother. I’ll still live here and spend time with you, exactly like I always have.” “Mia, please don’t be mad at me, okay?” I looked down at the Hermes logo on the bracelet. It was the complimentary gift that came with the bag Chloe was carrying. “Okay. I won’t be mad at you.” “Go eat dinner. They’ve been preparing it all day.” The sounds of joyous congratulations drifted up from downstairs. My mother stood awkwardly by the dining table, looking exactly like a hired maid. Arthur naturally and casually ordered her around, demanding she serve the food and dish out the soup. The suffocating weight of my grievances finally exploded. I gathered every single gift he had given me over the past six years and threw them all into the trash can. As the trash can tipped over, Chloe suddenly appeared in my doorway. Looking at the mess on the floor, a triumphant, arrogant smirk spread across her face. “What, you can’t handle it anymore?” “Mia, you are even more pathetic than I thought.” “Makes sense. What kind of decent person could a homewrecker possibly raise? Watching your own mother scurry around like a maid, not even allowed to sit at the table… that must hurt, right?” I stared at her with freezing apathy. “What exactly are you trying to say?” Chloe smirked, her face dripping with vicious mockery. She pulled out her phone, opened her chat log with Arthur, and waved it directly in my face. “Oh, right, you don’t know, do you? Every single night when you’re being intimate with Arthur, he sends the videos straight to me so I can watch.” “If I sent these videos to your mother’s phone, do you think she’d lose her mind entirely?” “Her own biological daughter and her second husband’s son, secretly screwing each other every single night right under their noses…” “Don’t you dare!” Unable to suppress the explosive rage in my chest a second longer… I raised my hand and delivered a brutal slap across her face. The sharp crack echoed loudly. Chloe fell hard onto the floor, shattering a glass picture frame. Blood instantly began pooling from her palm. Arthur charged into the room and immediately pulled her into his arms. He glared at me with pure, unadulterated fury. “Mia! What the hell are you doing?! Are you insane?!” “Chloe came up here to nicely ask you to come down for dinner, and you attack her?!” Uncle Sterling stood in the doorway, his face instantly turning dark. My mother panicked, desperately trying to explain: “Mia definitely didn’t mean to! There must be some misunderstanding!” “Mia, apologize to Chloe right now!” Chloe’s eyes were red as she buried her face in Arthur’s chest. “I’m so sorry. I just came up to invite Mia to our wedding. I have no idea why she suddenly attacked me…” “Arthur, please don’t blame Mia. I’m sure she didn’t mean it.” A cold sneer curled my lips as I stared directly at the embracing couple. Arthur ignored my expression, his eyes radiating a freezing, venomous hatred. “Mia. Apologize!” My nails dug so deeply into my palms that droplets of blood fell to the floor. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Why should I apologize?!” “You two are the ones who owe me an apology!” A look of profound disappointment flashed across Arthur’s eyes. “Mia, when did you become like this? You are being completely unreasonable!” Before I could respond, Uncle Sterling stepped forward and pulled Arthur up. “Take Chloe to the hospital first. I will handle things here.” Arthur carried Chloe out of the house. My mother followed behind Uncle Sterling, apologizing profusely and pathetically. Six years of deep, profound love evaporated into nothingness in that exact moment. I grabbed my suitcase and went to a hotel. Before leaving, I ripped the hidden camera out of the stuffed animal. And mailed it to Arthur. Doing the math, it would arrive on the exact day of his wedding. I thought my departure would officially end this twisted play. But that night, Arthur sent me a text explaining everything: “Chloe agreed to act as my bride for the wedding. I already owe her a massive favor, and you physically hurt her. It looked terrible in front of everyone. I only made you apologize so my dad wouldn’t get suspicious. Please don’t overthink it.” “Get some rest. I had a custom dress made for you to wear to the wedding. Be a good girl. I am your brother, and that will never, ever change.” But I knew perfectly well that this performance wasn’t for Uncle Sterling. It was entirely for me. My departure was the only thing that could finally end it. For the next two days, I didn’t go home. He didn’t go home either. He was busy organizing the wedding venue. He was busy picking out expensive jewelry for Chloe. I never received the gift he promised me. The only news I received was that he had casually dropped millions on a luxury yacht for Chloe. All so he could take her to the private island named after them. On the morning of the wedding, I called him. He was busy giving instructions to his friends and didn’t really have time for me. “Are the videos ready? Remember, start playing them the exact second she walks into the venue. I want absolutely everyone to see them.” “Are you sure about this? Once that video plays, there is absolutely no turning back.” “Just do exactly what I said. I have been waiting for this day for six years.” “Keep an eye on her mother. Make sure she doesn’t try to cause a scene.” His friend walked away, and Arthur finally remembered he was on the phone. “Mia? The wedding is about to start. I’ll come pick you up myself in a little bit. Wait for me at home.” “I’ll let you in on a secret: usually, the groom only picks up the bride. It’s almost like I’m marrying you, isn’t it?” “Stop being unhappy.” I stared at the boarding pass in my hand and let out a cynical laugh. “Brother. Happy Wedding Day.” He froze for a second, then chuckled softly. “Why are you calling me ‘brother’ today? I prefer it when you call me by my name.” “Be a good girl and wait for me. I’ll be right there.” I hung up the phone, turned around, and boarded my flight. And permanently deleted every single piece of his contact information. The wedding began. Arthur’s mind kept replaying that phone call, a profound sense of unease settling in his chest. Right as he was preparing to leave to pick me up… His friend rushed in from outside, carrying the shattered camera lens. “We have a massive problem. Mia found out about the hidden cameras!” “She took a flight out of the country early this morning. But that specific flight… the news just broke that it crashed into the ocean!”

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Arthur Sterling got drunk one night and got a girl pregnant. By the time I found out, her belly was already six months along. He told me that if we kept this child, we could go back to the way things were. I shook my head and stubbornly asked him: “Me or this child—who do you choose?” That day, he remained silent for a long time, unable to give me an answer. But after I vanished from his life, he finally felt the crushing weight of regret. 1 Married for five years, I never imagined Arthur and I would end like this. At the hospital entrance, Arthur was carefully helping a young, beautiful girl down the steps. I stood a short distance away, making direct eye contact with him just as his face was full of tender care. His eyes darted away, stiffly avoiding my gaze. The heavily pregnant girl beside him also looked my way, tears instantly welling up in her eyes. After safely helping the girl into a car and giving her a few careful instructions, Arthur finally walked over to me. His steps were calm and composed, entirely devoid of the panic of a man who had just been caught. He reached out and took my hands, which were as cold as ice, wrapping them tightly in his warm palms. “Why are you at the hospital? Are you feeling unwell?” He spoke with deep concern, raising a hand to touch my forehead. I dodged his touch. “Who is she?” Arthur didn’t answer my question. Instead, he pulled me into his embrace, trying to comfort me. “She’s no one important. Let’s go home and I’ll explain everything, okay?” Hearing his gentle, soothing voice in this moment finally caused my tears to fall. I looked up at him stubbornly, demanding an answer. As long as he said it, I would believe him. Arthur let out a soft sigh, then gently wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes. “The child is mine.” The tears froze on my face. I felt as though I had forgotten how to breathe. I bit my lower lip until it turned crimson, breaking free from his embrace and taking several steps back. Only then did a flash of genuine anger cross Arthur’s face. He pulled me back to his side, looking at me with heartache. “Eleanor, you can blame me, but don’t torture yourself.” I couldn’t understand why he would do something so devastating, yet still look at me with such profound love. Amidst our silent standoff, the girl stepped out of the car. “Get back inside!” Arthur ordered coldly, his voice devoid of any warmth. The girl looked at him timidly but didn’t retreat. A hint of determination appeared in her eyes. “Mrs. Sterling, Mr. Sterling and I aren’t what you think. This child was an accident.” She offered a bitter smile. “If I had a choice, I would want this baby gone more than anyone.” My vision was blurred with tears. Though I couldn’t clearly see the expression on Arthur’s face, I knew him well enough to feel that his initial coldness toward her had already faded. “Enough, stop talking!” Jealousy and resentment flooded my heart, and I screamed in a total breakdown. Startled, the girl swayed and nearly fell, but Arthur rushed forward and caught her securely in his arms. I stared blankly at the scene. A wild thought flashed through my mind. I lunged toward them. Just as I was about to collide with her swollen belly, a massive force shoved me away. I fell hard onto the pavement. Lifting my scraped, bleeding palms, I let out a miserable laugh. Arthur stared in utter disbelief at his own outstretched hands, completely stunned by what he had just done. That day, Arthur left the six-month pregnant girl behind and took me home. But I knew in my heart that he and I had no future left. 2 Once we were home, Arthur gave me his explanation. I sat on the bed, motionless for a long time. He stood on the balcony of my room and smoked for the entire night. I knew exactly what he was doing. He was using this self-destructive behavior to make my heart ache for him. When it came to me, he always knew exactly how to exploit my weaknesses. As dawn broke, Arthur turned, walked inside, and sat beside me. “Are you hungry? Tell me what you want, I’ll cook.” I stopped him with a hoarse voice. “Arthur, we need to talk.” His footsteps halted. For a long time, he didn’t turn around. He knew my personality well. He knew I cared deeply about loyalty. I cared a lot. Even if he had too much to drink that night, even if his contact with that girl was an unintentional mistake. I could never forgive him. Knowing this, Arthur had hidden the truth from me. But no one expected that this strange girl, someone he claimed was just a one-night mistake, would get pregnant. And because of a rare medical condition, she couldn’t safely terminate the pregnancy. That was how we ended up here. Arthur walked out. He didn’t dare face the words he knew I was about to say. I knew he loved me. If he didn’t, we wouldn’t have survived years of a marathon romance to finally get married. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have spoiled me to the point where I felt safe enough to throw tantrums and cry over the smallest things. For the next week, Arthur didn’t come home. Yet, every single day, he called our housekeeper to ask about every detail of my life and how I was doing. The housekeeper tried to persuade me: “Ma’am, you and Mr. Sterling are the most loving couple I’ve ever seen. Whatever happened, just talk it out and it will pass. Mr. Sterling… he’s lost so much weight recently.” She had worked for us for years and had never seen us have a single fight. Even Arthur’s mother, who had been displeased with me in our early years, gradually accepted me as her daughter-in-law simply because Arthur and I were so blissfully happy together. My phone rang. It was one of Arthur’s friends. “Eleanor, Arthur is black-out drunk. Could you come pick him up?” “Leave him be!” After hanging up, the heavy knot in my chest only grew tighter. My mind kept replaying the sight of his back as he walked out the door a week ago—his posture seemed to have bent under the weight of it all. In the end, I couldn’t be ruthless enough to just leave him there alone. After a brief internal struggle, I grabbed my car keys and strode out the door. 3 The door to the VIP room was ajar. I stood outside, not stepping in. Arthur was indeed horribly drunk, sprawled carelessly across the sofa with zero regard for his image. Standing directly in front of him was the heavily pregnant girl. Arthur’s friend looked incredibly awkward. “Ms. Dawson, Eleanor refused to come, and Arthur refuses to leave. I had no choice but to call you.” The girl, Chloe Dawson, smiled softly and reached out to support one of Arthur’s arms. He abruptly shoved her away. A few gasps in the room jolted Arthur slightly out of his drunken stupor. He looked at the woman in front of him, a smile forming on his face that looked far worse than crying. “Chloe, it’s all because of you… Eleanor doesn’t want me anymore…” Arthur kept repeating that sentence, looking around frantically for more alcohol. No one could stop him. He grabbed a liquor bottle and started chugging it like his life depended on it. Suddenly, Chloe snatched the bottle from his hand and smashed it violently against the floor. The room instantly fell dead silent. Even Arthur, who had just been throwing a drunken fit, stared at her blankly. “Arthur Sterling, your shouting and screaming is going to scare our child. Get up. I’m tired, and you are taking me home.” Arthur was a man who could practically summon the wind and rain in Chicago’s business world. Aside from me, no one had ever dared to order him around like that. Everyone in the room thought he was going to explode. They held their breath. But in that suffocating atmosphere, Arthur didn’t say a word. He slowly stood up, grabbed his jacket, and silently followed Chloe out the door. I hid in the shadows of the corridor, watching the man and woman walk away. Suddenly, I smiled. But that smile tasted entirely of bitter ash. I trailed their taxi to a high-end luxury apartment complex. I watched with my own eyes as Arthur got out of the car and followed the girl upstairs. A light flicked on in a window high above. I sat in my car and watched that window for the entire night. Arthur never came out. At 7:00 AM, he walked back into the building carrying breakfast bags. I stared at his deeply familiar silhouette. Then, quietly, I drove away alone. 4 I summoned Arthur back home, but I didn’t mention divorce. I looked at the man, who had visibly lost weight, and quickly averted my gaze. “I didn’t pick you up last night. Where did you sleep?” Arthur’s fingers twitched slightly. After a moment, he said: “I slept at the office.” I couldn’t quite describe what I felt in my heart. There wasn’t much sorrow left. Just an overwhelming sense of disappointment. When did Arthur learn to lie to me so effortlessly? The man who once promised to treat me with absolute honesty for the rest of his life had changed. I didn’t expose his lie. For me, it had lost all meaning. “How many months is she?” Arthur paused for a few seconds, as if he couldn’t bear to hurt me. “Almost seven months.” After saying that, he dropped to one knee in front of me and buried his face deeply into my lap. His tears soaked through my skirt. “Ellie, I was wrong. Please don’t throw me away.” In my entire memory of him, Arthur had never cried. Now, he was sobbing uncontrollably. Watching him cry made my heart physically ache. But I knew that, in this moment, I couldn’t afford to be soft-hearted. “Arrange a meeting for me and that girl.” We chose to meet at Chloe’s apartment. Arthur waited outside the door. Chloe gently caressed her lower belly, her eyes brimming with pure anticipation for the child. “That night, the lights were off in the room, and I was genuinely terrified.” “But the next morning, when I saw Mr. Sterling sleeping beside me… for a split second, I actually felt lucky.” Chloe smiled as she spoke. She looked up at me, still maintaining that gentle, innocent facade. “Mrs. Sterling, Arthur and I are going to have a child very soon. Why don’t you just step aside and let us be together?” Without Arthur around, this girl was like a completely different person. Honestly, I wasn’t that surprised. Because the night I went to the bar to find Arthur, I saw Chloe glance toward the door crack. I knew she had seen me watching them that night. She slowly stood up and pushed open a closed door in the apartment. Inside was a beautifully decorated, warm nursery. “Arthur personally picked out everything in here. He decorated this room himself.” “It’s not that he has no expectations for this child.” I really wanted to maintain my last shred of dignity and composure in front of this woman flaunting my husband’s fatherly love. But she still managed to enrage me. So, Arthur did look forward to this child. He wasn’t as indifferent as he claimed. All the strength drained from my body. I leaned heavily against the dining table, accidentally knocking over a glass of water. It shattered with a crisp crash, mirroring the fracturing of my own heart. Hearing the noise, Arthur burst in. What he saw was me swaying unsteadily on my feet, while Chloe lay on the floor crying out in pain. I will never forget that day—the day Arthur’s first choice was no longer me. Chloe shot me a triumphant smirk, convinced she had won the war. As he brushed past me, Arthur hesitated for only a fraction of a second. Ultimately, he bypassed me entirely, scooped Chloe up in his arms, and rushed her to the hospital. 5 When he left, Arthur didn’t even look back at me. I stood rooted to the spot for a long time before slowly digesting the reality that he had abandoned me. I followed them to the hospital. By the time I arrived, Arthur’s parents were already there. It turned out I was the only one kept in the dark. His parents had known about this for a while. Seeing me approach, Arthur’s mother slapped me hard across the face. “If anything happens to my grandson, I will make you pay!” Arthur instantly stepped in front of me, shielding me completely behind his back. Seeing this, his mother grew even more furious. “Arthur, I don’t care if you protect her normally, but right now she’s trying to kill your son!” Arthur laughed, his voice thick with suppressed rebellion. “So what? If the kid dies, he dies.” If his parents hadn’t gone behind his back to help preserve this pregnancy, Ellie wouldn’t be this heartbroken right now. No one knew that when he saw Chloe fall, his very first instinctive reaction was… relief. He deeply regretted the existence of this ‘accident.’ The doctor came out of the room and announced the baby was safe. Arthur’s parents rushed inside to coddle and comfort Chloe. But Chloe kept her pitiful, teary gaze locked on Arthur, who was standing by the door. She dared to scheme against me. Why would I let her get what she wanted? I tilted my face to show Arthur my red, swollen left cheek, ensuring his heart would ache for me. “I don’t want to be here anymore,” I told him. Arthur left with me. As we walked away, I looked back at Chloe lying in the hospital bed and returned her victorious smile with one of my own. At least for now, Arthur’s bias still favored me. Even if it was a bias I no longer wanted. During the days when Arthur believed I was slowly accepting the existence of his child, I was actually preparing for my departure. I packed up my belongings and had my lawyer draft the divorce papers. I was just waiting for the day to leave. Yes, I was going to leave on the exact day Chloe gave birth. Didn’t she want me to step aside so they could be a happy family of three? I was going to grant her that wish.

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The fake heiress and I became sugar babies for two billionaire brothers in New York’s elite circle. Even while sneaking out for a quick iced coffee, we couldn’t stop complaining about how our sugar daddies seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of energy every single night. Then, the younger brother’s “first love” was rumored to be returning from abroad. The fake heiress: “Are you going to run?” Me: “I’m down for whatever. It’s up to you.” The fake heiress: “Do you run first, or do I run first?” Me: “Let’s just run together.” As it turned out, because we were way too obvious, we were caught red-handed right in the middle of our grand escape. The New York billionaire sneered in pure, cold fury: “He has a ‘first love’ coming back, I don’t. What exactly are you running from?” 1 When my family’s business empire went bankrupt, the fake heiress, Sienna, and I were essentially handed over to the powerful Sterling brothers to settle the debt. I was given to the older brother, Roman Sterling. Sienna was given to the younger one, Brooks Sterling. Life at the Sterling estate was actually pretty comfortable. The two brothers treated us with an almost eerie level of consistency. They never skimped on our monthly allowance, but they never gave us a second glance during the day either. Sienna and I were more than happy with that arrangement. Whenever we managed to sneak out for an iced coffee, we’d spend the entire time venting about our sugar daddies’ endless stamina in the bedroom every night. But lately, Sienna had been totally distracted during our gossip sessions. I poked her arm. “What’s the matter? Did Brooks keep you up all night again?” She snapped back to reality and let out a heavy sigh. “Brooks’s ‘first love’ is coming back from London.” I let out an “Oh.” I couldn’t really relate to that specific brand of drama. Because on this point, the brothers were polar opposites. Roman had always cultivated a strict, stoic, almost ascetic image. I heard that before I arrived, he hadn’t let a single woman get within ten feet of him. Brooks was the same way. Except, rumor had it he’d been pining for his “first love” for years. Sienna continued to sigh. “I think it’s time for me to leave before I have to deal with her.” I took a long sip of my latte. “Where are you going? I’m coming with you.” Sienna seemed to suddenly steel her resolve. “I’m making a run for it. Are you in or out?” I didn’t blink. “If you run, I run.” Honestly, Roman treated me pretty well. But it’s a big world, and sisters come before misters. Who cares if he’s nice? Sienna’s face filled with relief. “Okay, then. Do you run first, or do I run first?” I thought about it. “Let’s just run together.” Even though Roman didn’t have a lingering ex, who knew when a strategic corporate marriage would pop up? I needed to be proactive. This was the perfect chance to disappear together. Sienna finalized the deal instantly. “Perfect! We run together!” Then, she started delegating tasks: “I’ll handle buying the tickets and gathering the supplies. You’re in charge of the actual escape plan.” She paused, narrowing her eyes at me. “And if you try to wing it without a real plan like last time, you’re staying behind!” She clenched her fist, the threat painfully clear. I nodded frantically. “Don’t worry, don’t worry! I’ll do it tonight when we get back. I’ll have a full PowerPoint and a written itinerary ready!” Since this wasn’t just a normal vacation, I really had to put some effort into it. Hearing my promise, Sienna nodded in satisfaction. 2 When we got home that night, we both tacitly rejected our sugar daddies’ “invitations” for the evening. She claimed a stomach ache; I claimed a dizzy spell. The moment the two men left our rooms, I bolted out of bed, fired up my laptop, and started typing out the escape plan at lightning speed. Halfway through, Roman came back with some medicine. I dove back under the duvet and played dead. He reached out and felt my forehead, murmuring, “Why are you sweating?” He tried to pull the blanket down to let some air in. I yanked it back tight, pretending to be freezing. Roman checked my temp again, saw it had dropped slightly, and finally left the room feeling reassured. The second the door clicked shut, I pulled my overheating laptop back out from under the covers. My body was roasting from being buried in the blankets, but I didn’t have time to care. I opened the laptop and kept typing. Throughout the night, Roman kept popping in to check on my condition. Every time I heard him coming, I’d slam the laptop shut and pretend to be asleep. After doing this repeatedly, the sky was starting to lighten by the time I finally finished. I hit ‘Save,’ tossed the laptop aside, and immediately fell into a dead sleep. 3 When I woke up, Sienna was sitting on the edge of my bed. She looked even more haggard than I did. Seeing me wake up, she immediately reached out, asking for the escape plan. I opened the laptop to show her. I asked casually, “Why do you look so awful?” Scrolling through the screen, Sienna let out a haunting sigh. “That psycho Brooks realized I was faking it, so he made me pay for the lie all night anyway.” As she spoke, her suppressed rage flared up again. “Damn it, if we don’t run soon, I’m going to die of exhaustion.” I was still half-asleep. She finally finished reading and Airdropped the plan to her own laptop. I yawned and asked, “Everything ready on your end? When’s the move?” Sienna’s eyes went ice-cold. “I heard the ‘first love’ lands in three days. Both brothers have to be at the welcome gala.” “We run that night. It’s perfect timing.” I nodded. “Okay, whatever you say.” Her word was law. Sienna handed the laptop back. “We’ll hammer out the final details when they’re not around. I need to go catch up on sleep.” The second she closed the door, I pulled the covers over my head and went back to sleep. I slept straight through until Roman came home. He took off his watch and came over to feel my forehead again. “How are you feeling today? The maids said you slept all day.” His hand was a little cold, and I shivered. “I’m all better.” With Sienna’s failure fresh in my mind, I was terrified he’d realize I had been faking it. Roman started unbuttoning his shirt. “Then let’s go to bed early.” I had actual PTSD from that unbuttoning motion. I stuttered in panic, “Um, actually, I’m not completely better. We should just… sleep normally.” Roman paused for two seconds and raised an eyebrow. “If we aren’t going to sleep normally, what did you want to do?” What else could we do?! He knew exactly what I meant. My face flushed red, and I hid under the covers again. “Nothing, let’s just sleep, go to sleep.” Roman didn’t say anything else. He reached out, pulled me into his arms, and quickly fell asleep. Because I had slept all day, my eyes were wide open staring at the ceiling. I couldn’t fall asleep at all. My mind was entirely focused on the escape plan and what still needed tweaking. I lay there with my eyes open until dawn, finally feeling a hint of drowsiness. I could only faintly hear the sound of Roman getting out of bed; I couldn’t open my eyes. I don’t know how much time passed, but he leaned over, kissed my forehead, and then the room went quiet. To lower the brothers’ suspicions, Sienna and I canceled our afternoon iced coffee sessions. We stayed in our rooms every day, perfecting the plan. Finally, the day the “first love” returned arrived. 4 First thing in the morning, Sienna found a random excuse to get into a massive screaming match with Brooks. Then she locked herself in her room and refused to open the door, even when I called for her. Brooks assumed she was just throwing a tantrum and stormed out in a rage. My eyes fell on Roman, who was leisurely sipping tea on the sofa, and I started to panic internally. Wasn’t he supposed to go to the welcome gala? Why wasn’t he leaving? If he didn’t leave soon, we were going to miss our flight. I was pacing like an ant on a hot pan. Finally, Roman stood up. Overjoyed, I prepared to play the caring girlfriend and tell him to drive safely. Instead, Roman looked at me and frowned. “Why haven’t you changed your clothes yet?” I froze. “Huh?” He glanced at his watch. “Aren’t you going to the welcome gala tonight?” Of course I’m not going! Feeling his intense gaze on me, I thought fast and forced out two fake tears. “I’m feeling a little sick again today. I think I’ll sit this one out.” I thought that would be enough to get me off the hook. Instead, Roman paused halfway through putting on his suit jacket. “Change your clothes anyway. I’m taking you to the hospital.” I panicked so hard I practically caught fire. I waved my hands frantically. “No, no, no! I don’t need to go to the hospital. I just need to sleep for a bit.” Roman’s tone brooked no argument. “Absolutely not. You’ve been feeling sick for days. You need a full checkup.” I shook my head. “The welcome gala is really important. You should go handle your business first, and we can go to the doctor when you get back.” By the time he got back, Sienna and I would have successfully escaped. Roman wasn’t buying it. “It’s just an irrelevant person. We’re getting you checked out first. Be good.” Seeing that he was literally about to drag me out the door, I desperately grabbed onto the arm of the sofa. “Actually… actually, I lied to you. I’m not sick.” Roman clearly didn’t believe me. His grip loosened slightly, but he looked displeased. “I don’t care what you say. You are getting checked out today.” I broke out in a cold sweat. Thinking fast, I gripped his sleeve. “I’m really not sick! I just want to stay home and keep Sienna company. She’s really sad today, and I’m worried about her.” Roman looked at me suspiciously. I pressed on, “You know she’s one of the most important people in the world to me. I don’t want to leave her alone.” Roman probably remembered the emotional baggage between his brother and this “first love.” He let go of my hand and nodded. “Fine. You stay and keep her company.” I was ecstatic. I threw myself at him and kissed him on the lips. “You’re the best! Don’t drink too much tonight, bye-bye!” Roman grabbed my waist and looked down at me. “She’s ‘one of’ the most important people. Who are the others?” Honestly, there was no “one of.” Sienna was my only family. But I didn’t mind buttering him up a bit more to lower his guard. “You, of course! Just you two, no one else.” The corner of Roman’s mouth ticked up. “Smooth talker.” He leaned down and kissed me hard. My legs turned to jelly; I could barely stand. Afraid he might lose control and decide to stay, I quickly pushed him away. “You’re going to be late! Hurry up and go!” Roman finally let me go. “Don’t fall asleep tonight.” Just to get him out the door, I would have agreed to anything. Watching his car disappear down the driveway, I let out a massive sigh of relief. I took the stairs two at a time to find Sienna. 5 I barely knocked on the door before Sienna yanked it open just enough to drag me inside. I stared at the four massive suitcases in front of me, utterly bewildered. “Are you… trying to escape?” With bags this bulky, we’d be caught as thieves before we even made it off the property, right? Sienna dusted off her hands, completely oblivious to how insane this looked. “Yeah! We’ll take all this stuff so we don’t have to waste money buying it again.” “Once we’re out of here, we definitely can’t use their credit cards. Shouldn’t we save wherever we can?” I was silent. “…” Whatever. As long as she’s happy. We waited until the maids were having their dinner before dragging the heavy suitcases downstairs. Unfortunately, because the bags were so heavy, we made a ton of noise. In a flash of brilliance, I put on a furious face and yelled, “You buy this useless junk every single day! I swear I’m going to throw it all out!” Our eyes met, and Sienna instantly understood my play. She dragged the suitcases toward the door, walking as fast as she could while shouting back, “Don’t try to pull rank on me just because you’re the older brother’s girl!” “Fine, throw it out then!” “I’ll do it for you!” The maids stared at us in absolute shock, totally bewildered by the sudden falling out between the inseparable “sisters.” Seizing the opportunity, I grabbed the other two suitcases and stormed toward the door. “Fine, I’m throwing it all out!” We kept up the fake argument all the way out of the mansion. I dumped the two suitcases I was carrying next to the trash cans, grabbed Sienna, and shoved her into the Uber we had pre-booked. Sienna kept looking back at the trash cans. “Wait, our stuff!” I yanked her arm. “Forget the stuff! If you leave it there, they’ll actually believe we had a massive fight!” It was the only way to buy ourselves time to escape. Otherwise, someone would realize something was wrong before we even left the gated community. Sienna adjusted immediately. “You’re right. Garbage belongs with garbage men!” We didn’t dare waste a single second. As soon as we got to JFK Airport, we opened the remaining suitcases to change our clothes. I rushed her as I changed. “Hurry up! We need to make a few transfers before they get back from the gala!” Sienna, in the stall next to me, didn’t answer. I assumed she was already waiting outside, so I finished adjusting my hoodie and walked out of the restroom. The second I stepped out, I saw Roman standing a few feet away, his expression absolute ice. My brain literally blue-screened. Before Roman could walk over, I pulled my hoodie over my head, looked down, and tried to sneak away. I had barely taken three steps along the wall when a hand grabbed my hood. I flinched, burying my head even lower. Wait, how did he track us so fast?! Shouldn’t he be clinking champagne glasses at the gala right now? While I kept my head down, Roman reached out, grabbed my chin, and forced me to look up at him. He offered a humorless smile. “Faking sick, acting cute, refusing to leave the house… so this was the plan all along?” I didn’t dare answer. I refused to look him in the eye. I was fully committed to playing dead. Roman took a deep breath, his tone softening slightly. “Tell me. Why did you run?” “What did I do to make you unhappy?” I mumbled, “I don’t know.” I’m with my best friend. Do I need another reason? Roman repeated the words. “‘You don’t know’?” I felt guilty. “She ran, so I ran…” I couldn’t leave Sienna. That was the bottom line. Roman actually laughed out of pure exasperation. “She ran because my brother has a ‘first love.’ I don’t! What exactly were you running from?!” I didn’t dare make a sound. Roman’s voice grew heavier. “Speak!” I jumped, on the verge of tears. “I can’t betray my best friend! If she’s running, why would I stay?!” Roman clearly hadn’t anticipated that answer. He was so angry his breathing became ragged. It took him a long time to get his emotions under control. “We’re going home.” I asked cautiously, “Can you give me my phone back first?” Since leaving the bathroom, I hadn’t seen Sienna anywhere. I hadn’t seen Brooks, either. So she probably still had a chance to escape. I needed to text her and tell her to change her route. Roman shot me a side-eye. “Trying to tip her off?” I shook my head vigorously. “No, I just want to check the time.” Roman shoved his wrist in my face, showing me his watch. “Check mine.” I practically choked on my own blood. I grabbed his hand and pushed it down. “Just let me use my phone for one second. I’m begging you.” Roman wrapped his arm around my waist, his tone frigid. “Don’t bother. She got caught too.” He paused, staring at me with a cold sneer. “Your punishment tonight is going to be far worse than hers.” I panicked instantly. “What are you going to do?!” “It’s your brother’s fault for being sketchy with some other girl! So what if Sienna ran?!” “Neither of you brothers are any good!” The more I spoke, the more agitated I got, watching Roman’s face darken with every word. But since I was already doomed, I might as well get the satisfaction of telling him off. I puffed out my chest. “What are you glaring at?! If you’re so tough, let us go!” Roman tightened his grip, leaning close to my ear. He sneered, his voice dropping so low only I could hear. “I’m not tough enough to let you go. But I am tough enough to destroy you in bed tonight.” All the color drained from my face. My voice trembled. “I retract my statement. I didn’t say anything.” I got too carried away and forgot that Roman really wasn’t a good guy! Roman’s expression didn’t change. “Too late.”

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After showering, I stepped barefoot onto the smart scale in our house. A chime rang out: “Congratulations, Mindy, mid-pregnancy, baby is 1.5 kg!” I was stunned. I was pregnant? How did I not know? Excited, I grabbed my phone and immediately called my husband: “What’s wrong with the scale? Am I pregnant?” There was a brief second of silence on the other end, then his usual gentle chuckle: “Skylar, it’s just a scale, the data’s wrong. Are you overly sensitive because you haven’t conceived yet?” I hung up, then connected via Bluetooth. In the scale’s data log, I saw three months of continuous weight gain. Grabbing my car keys, I drove straight to Mindy’s university. Before confronting Mindy, I needed to confirm my suspicions. In the scale’s app, there was a heart icon every two weeks, which I assumed marked a prenatal check-up. Based on the pattern, today was a check-up day! I parked my car outside the private hospital. The scent of disinfectant hung heavy in the obstetrics and gynecology corridor. A few minutes later, a girl in a white cotton dress walked out of the consulting room, head down. Long hair reaching her waist, no makeup on her face—exactly the pure, innocent look my husband, Alex, always favored. The moment she looked up, I confirmed it. It was Mindy, the underprivileged student my husband and I had been sponsoring. When she saw me, her eyes clearly flickered with panic for a moment, but she quickly composed herself, patting her belly and forcing a shy smile: “Skylar? What a coincidence, are you here for an appointment too?” “Yes, a prenatal check-up.” “My scale at home says I’m pregnant, so I came to see if it’s true.” I got straight to the point, “And you? A prenatal check-up too? Your belly looks about four or five months along?” “N-no!” She waved her hands frantically, “I… I just gained weight…” “I just came for a routine physical… yes, a physical!” She stammered through her explanation, full of holes. If not for the smart scale’s cold “mid-pregnancy” announcement, I might have actually believed her. My gaze fell on her tightly clutched abdomen. She trembled with fright, instinctively taking a step back. But I smiled, stepping closer, my voice gentle: “Don’t be nervous, plenty of people get pregnant before marriage, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.” “If you really are pregnant, just make the man marry you. Have Alex talk to him; let’s see if he dares to shirk responsibility.” Mindy’s face instantly paled, her lips trembling as she bolted. I didn’t watch her humiliated retreat, instead turning to make a call. “Get me Mindy’s medical report.” Within ten minutes, my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a message from my best friend, Chloe. An image: Mindy’s prenatal check-up report. A quick glance confirmed it was indeed mid-pregnancy. In the emergency contact section, two names stood out. Alex. Chloe was silent for a few seconds, dropping her usual playful tone: “Is it his?” I shook my head, a bitter smile on my face: “No proof yet…” Back home, before I even had a chance to change my shoes, my phone screen lit up. It was a notification from Mindy’s social media. A photo of a pregnant belly, the background my carefully chosen living room sofa, her wearing my loungewear, intimately leaning on a cushion I’d bought, with the caption: “Baby’s new home, I love it.” The location: the address of my newly renovated villa. I forced myself to calm down and stormed into Alex’s study. Following a woman’s intuition, I found his old phone tucked into a hidden compartment on the top shelf of the bookshelf. The lock screen was a photo of me, and the password was still my birthday. The screen lit up, and I tapped on the profile picture; it was a new account. The profile picture showed a slender hand stroking a woman’s pregnant belly. A chill ran through me. The plain silver band on that hand’s ring finger was one I had designed myself ten years ago. The contact list contained only Mindy. I opened the chat, and their love story unfolded before my eyes. The timeline wasn’t long, starting from when I was temporarily transferred out of town six months ago. The earliest message was from last Christmas, sent by Mindy: “Alex, Merry Christmas, the gift I want to give you is myself.” Alex hadn’t replied to that message, but I remembered he used the excuse of working overtime that night and didn’t come home. After a few innocuous holiday greetings, the messages grew increasingly vulgar. “Your waist is so soft.” “You were amazing last night, you utterly captivated me.” Those disgusting words turned my stomach. On our wedding anniversary, he video-called me until midnight. But after hanging up, he immediately went to find Mindy, hiking with her up a mountain to watch the sunrise. Mindy would occasionally feign innocence, asking: “Will Skylar be angry?” Alex’s reply was cold and heartless: “Our private world doesn’t include her.” I trembled as I opened the album of that secondary account; it was filled with Mindy. They kissed at sunset, their maternity photos, their dreams of a beautiful life as a family of three… I was shaking with rage, almost crushing the phone. Just then, my own phone received a picture of steamed dumplings from Alex, and immediately afterwards, the phone rang. “Skylar, are you home yet?” “I queued for half an hour in the North End to get your favorite dumplings. I was just about to bring them over, but something urgent came up at the company…” I sneered inwardly, looking at the message Mindy had just sent on the old phone: “Honey, the hotel room is ready, I’m waiting for you in my new sexy lingerie~” Unsurprisingly, those dumplings would soon appear before Mindy. I regulated my breathing: “Okay, you go take care of it.” I copied all the chat logs and videos from Alex’s old phone. When Alex rushed home, I was sitting in the living room. Seeing the scene, the gentle smile on his face froze for a moment, but he still walked over as usual, trying to embrace me: “Skylar, what’s wrong?” I sidestepped, avoiding him, and threw the printed prenatal report onto the coffee table in front of him. A flicker of panic crossed his eyes, yet he still feigned innocence: “Skylar, why did you actually go to the hospital for a check-up?” I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Alex, look closely at the name on there—it’s Mindy, not Skylar! What do you have to say for yourself?” He still brazenly lied. “Mindy? Mindy’s pregnant? How would I know… you know these young university students getting pregnant so easily…” “But darling, what does this have to do with me? You’re not suspecting me, are you… I’m innocent…” I looked at the man before me, a terrible actor, and couldn’t understand how I had loved him for so many years. “Darling, I’ll go find Mindy right now and have her clarify everything to your face.” Alex calmly took out his phone and dialed Mindy’s number. Not long after, the doorbell rang. Alex pulled in a delicate figure from outside, it was Mindy. She cowered, timidly looking at me, no makeup on her face, appearing clean and innocent. “Alex… Am I here at a bad time? Skylar, please don’t misunderstand Alex, it’s all my fault…” “Do you have a say here?” I sharply snapped. Mindy flinched, her body swaying, and she fell straight to the ground. I watched her with cold eyes, not moving an inch. Alex, however, rushed forward, cradling Mindy protectively in his arms, then turned to me and roared: “Skylar! Why did you push her! She’s carrying a child!” Before I could speak, a commotion erupted outside the door. “What child? Who has a child of the Chen family?” A middle-aged couple, plainly dressed but with sharp eyes, pushed their way in. It was Alex’s parents. They had come to deliver local specialties to Alex. As soon as Alex’s parents entered, they saw Alex embracing Mindy. His mother glared fiercely at Mindy, then charged forward, ready to strike her: “You shameless hussy! How dare you seduce my son!” Alex quickly shielded Mindy: “Mom! What are you doing! Mindy is the daughter of Mrs. Davis from the general store at the village entrance!” At these words, Alex’s parents’ attitude did a complete 180-degree turn. His mother stopped her tirade, beaming with joy, “Oh, it’s Mrs. Davis’s girl, let me see, you’ve grown so big?” She scrutinized Mindy’s belly, “Pregnant? That’s wonderful! Where are you living now? I say, don’t live anywhere else, just stay here in our villa with a nanny, we’ll make sure you’re perfectly comfortable.” Alex adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, and following his mother’s lead, turned to me: “From today onwards, Mindy will live here to rest during her pregnancy. Give her the master bedroom; you can go to the guest room for now.” His tone was not a discussion, but a decree. Before I could object, he helped Mindy up and walked out, leaving me alone in the living room. The next morning, Mindy sauntered downstairs wearing my favorite silk bathrobe. She was wearing my usual perfume, a unique scent that Alex and I had custom-blended in France during our courtship. There was only one of its kind in the world. I sat at the dining table, coldly watching her take a seat opposite me. “How did you sleep last night, sister?” Mindy deliberately rested her wrist on the table, revealing a Patek Philippe watch, smiling with feigned innocence. She was an underprivileged student; she couldn’t possibly afford it. Undoubtedly, the watch was a gift from Alex, and she was flaunting it to me. I ignored her, looking down at my porridge. She seemed unfazed, picking up a bowl of bird’s nest soup and stirring it gently with a spoon. “Alex is so good to me. He knows I have morning sickness and no appetite, so he even got up in the middle of the night to make me bird’s nest soup, saying it’s good for the baby.” “Sister, would you like to try some?” “Crash!” I couldn’t take it anymore, and furiously smashed the bowl of bird’s nest soup on the floor. “Ah!” Mindy shrieked, perfectly dodging into Alex’s arms as he walked in, crying, her face a tear-streaked mess. “Alex, I’m so scared, is Skylar going crazy?” Alex immediately shielded the “startled” Mindy behind him, his eyes burning with anger as he looked at me: “Skylar, look at yourself. What have you become?” “Mindy is pregnant, she’s from my hometown, and she’s an underprivileged student we both sponsored. Why are you losing your temper with her?” I couldn’t stand it anymore. I wasn’t going to play Alex’s game any longer. “I know Mindy is carrying your child.” Alex paused for a moment, then laughed. “Skylar, haven’t you always wanted a child?” The smile on his lips turned cruel. “I got Mindy to be your surrogate, shouldn’t you thank me?” “Thank you?” I trembled with rage. “Alex, you want me to thank you for getting your mistress to have a child for me?” My mother-in-law, who had just arrived with chicken soup early that morning, suddenly appeared. “Alex, are you saying Mindy is carrying your child?” Alex nodded. My mother-in-law’s eyes suddenly lit up, and she burst into laughter. “Heaven has eyes! Our Chen family finally has an heir!” She walked up to me, pointed at my nose, and cursed me furiously: “You barren hen! Our Chen family has had only one heir per generation, and after three years of marriage with you, there’s been no sign of a baby! Now you want to harm my precious grandchild! What are your intentions?!” Alex’s father also chimed in: “Skylar, it’s your good fortune that our Alex married you. If you can’t have children yourself, shouldn’t he be allowed to find someone who can? Don’t be so overbearing!” That whole family, they epitomized shamelessness. “Sister, don’t be angry,” Mindy poked her head out from behind Alex, stroking her belly. “Didn’t the doctor say you weren’t well and it would be hard for you to conceive? Alex is doing this for your own good too.” I was shaking with rage at this twisted scene, pointing at them, unable to speak. Suddenly, my vision went black, and I slowly collapsed. When I woke up, I saw that my assistant had called me hundreds of times. While I was unconscious, Alex had urgently convened a board meeting of the Forrester Group, proposing to remove me from my position. I floored the accelerator, crashing through the boardroom doors ten minutes later. Alex froze when he saw me, but quickly replaced it with a look of concern. “Skylar, it’s cold, don’t catch a chill.” I ignored him, addressing everyone: “Who wants to remove me? I don’t agree!” A cold laugh came from among the board members, it was my stepmother, Victoria. “Skylar, your mental state has been deteriorating lately. You’re constantly throwing tantrums and smashing things. You’re simply not fit to hold a board position.” I suddenly remembered a few months ago, when I accidentally overheard them secretly talking in the garden. Victoria handed Alex a card, both of them acting furtively. He had then dismissed it as “pocket money” from my stepmother, a gesture from an elder. It turned out they had already colluded. Alex’s voice suddenly came through the microphone: “Everyone, please settle down. I have a video I’d like to show you all, of my wife, Skylar’s, recent… true condition.” The giant screen behind him lit up, showing me. I was screaming hysterically in the living room, my face contorted, violently smashing the bowl of bird’s nest soup on the floor. The video was meticulously edited, only showing my most uncontrolled moments, perfectly portraying me as a deranged lunatic. The room erupted in gasps. Victoria opportunely pulled out a handkerchief and began to sob quietly. I coldly watched Alex on the stage. He looked back at me, his eyes filled with feigned heartbreak. He was truly a good actor. As soon as the video finished, a man in a white lab coat appeared in the conference room. “I am Dr. Lewis, head of the Provincial Mental Hospital,” “According to my diagnosis, Ms. Forrester is experiencing an acute manic episode of bipolar disorder, with severe violent tendencies, and must be immediately placed in isolation for treatment!” Alex’s tears instantly welled up: “My wife’s mental state has been extremely unstable recently due to personal family reasons, and it has severely impacted the company’s normal operations.” “To protect our collective hard work, I propose that Ms. Forrester’s chairman position be temporarily suspended, and I be granted full authority to manage the subsequent crisis!” “Uncles and aunts, for Skylar’s sake, and for everyone’s safety, I have no choice but to do this!” No sooner had his words fallen than several of his cronies on the board immediately voiced their agreement. “Mr. Chen is right, the top priority is to stabilize the situation!” “Ms. Forrester should take care of her personal affairs first; her health is paramount.” The conference room door was once again flung open, and blinding flashlights instantly engulfed me. A group of reporters rushed in. Alex’s face was etched with a grief I had never seen before. “To all media friends, I am deeply pained.” He pushed me away, leading the reporters into the room. “My wife… she has developed some mental issues because she hasn’t been able to have children.” Several reporters’ recording pens appeared before me. “Ms. Forrester, have you truly developed a mental illness due to infertility?” “Mr. Chen said you’ve been smashing things at home, even becoming violent towards him, is that true?” “Can shareholders really trust the Forrester Group to a mentally ill person?” Before I could refute, Alex stepped forward and grabbed my wrist. He looked at the camera, his eyes red-rimmed: “Skylar, don’t be afraid. I’ll take you to the best hospital for treatment right away.” His performance was flawless, like a perfect husband utterly heartbroken for his wife. And I, wearing only a thin nightgown, my hair disheveled, my face ashen. He roughly dragged me, shoving me into a car from the mental institution.

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I was just a stand-in, playing the part of my wealthy best friend on an arranged date. But Rhys Donovan, the heir to a corporate empire, fell for me instead. From that day on, if any other man so much as glanced at me, he’d have their legs broken and their bodies thrown into the river. When I confessed I wasn’t who he thought I was, he carved three lines into the back of his hand, each one deep enough to show bone. “I don’t care who you are,” he’d whispered, his voice shaking. “Just don’t ever leave me. The thought of you marrying someone else, having a child with another man… it makes me want to kill them all.” He showered me with affection for three years. The night I was rushing home, bursting to tell him I was pregnant, I found him tangled in our marital bed with my best friend, both of them naked. A madness I couldn’t control seized me. I tried to throw them out. But Rhys, his eyes red with fury, slapped me across the face. “Ava, why do you have to be so unreasonable?” “I broke off my engagement with the Langford family for you! Isabelle is being tormented at home because of it. All she wants is a child to secure her position. Can’t you find it in your heart to understand?” My best friend knelt on the floor, clutching her stomach, her voice a desperate plea. “Ava, I’m already pregnant. The baby is innocent!” I stared at them, my heart a frozen stone in my chest. “We’re done.” Rhys’s sanity snapped. “Who gave you permission to say that?” In the middle of a hurricane, he locked me on the balcony, forcing me to listen to the storm rage outside and the sounds of their lovemaking inside, all night long. That was the night I lost our baby to a raging fever. Rhys Donovan, this time, I’m really letting you go. … I was on that balcony all night. Just as the cold was about to swallow me whole, Rhys finally opened the glass door, a sliver of mercy in a sea of cruelty. He draped a warm coat over my shivering body and tucked my frozen feet against his stomach to warm them. He sighed, a sound of weary frustration. “Ava, don’t blame me for being harsh. You’re just so stubborn. You fly off the handle over the smallest thing, threatening to leave me. This was the only way to make you listen.” He tilted my chin up. “See? Who else would love you, would cherish you, like this?” Cherish me? The word was a bitter joke. He knew the hurricane last night was no ordinary storm, yet he had locked me out in it deliberately. I had pounded on the glass until my fists were raw, screaming that I was pregnant, that the cold could make me miscarry. But Rhys had only lifted his head from Isabelle’s body for a moment, his gaze sweeping over me with a tired annoyance. “Ava, don’t tell such lies to get my attention. I love you, but I’m not a fool. You had your appendix out a few months ago. I haven’t touched you since because I was afraid of hurting you. Where would a baby come from?” Blood had trickled down my thighs, staining my dress crimson. I had screamed until my throat was raw, telling him I was miscarrying, begging him to take me to a doctor. Rhys had only gotten out of bed, opened the door just enough to frame his face, and pressed a tender kiss to my forehead. “Shh, darling,” he’d soothed. “You must love me so much that you’ve imagined you’re carrying my child. Just wait. As soon as Isabelle gives birth, I promise I’ll give you a baby of your own. The three of us will be a happy family.” Then, he’d turned, retrieved a sanitary pad from the nightstand, and pressed it into my hand. “We’ve been together for three years. I have every one of your periods logged in my calendar. I know this isn’t a miscarriage. It’s just your time of the month, you silly girl.” After that, no matter how much I screamed, he ignored me. My agonized cries only seemed to fuel their passion. The more I suffered, the harder Rhys moved, and the louder Isabelle moaned, as if to make sure I heard every single second. The memory made me squeeze my eyes shut. I pushed Rhys’s hands away and shakily stood up, walking out of the room. The pain in my abdomen was so intense my legs threatened to buckle. The hem of my dress was soaked in blood. I locked myself in the bathroom and stood under the shower for an hour, trying to wash away the humiliation of the night. It was laughable to think that just yesterday, before coming home, I was naively planning my future with Rhys, filled with such hope. The man I thought was devoted to me, who had eyes only for me, had been sleeping with my best friend for months. I plugged in my dead phone. Once it had enough power, I opened my contacts and found the number for my gynecologist. “Hello, Doctor,” I said, my voice flat. “I need to schedule an abortion. As soon as possible.” With an appointment set for the afternoon, I changed into clean clothes and went downstairs. Rhys and Isabelle were already at the dining table, eating. The man who was usually so meticulous, almost obsessive about a clean table, was letting Isabelle make a complete mess of the food. She pouted. “I’m pregnant, I have no appetite. None of this tastes good. I’m craving that mango passionfruit trifle Ava makes. She’s so good at it!” As I reached for a chair, Rhys’s hand stopped me. “Ava, go make a trifle for Isabelle.” I stared at him in disbelief. “I haven’t eaten anything.” “Be good, Ava. Isabelle is pregnant. She comes first right now.” “She’s already made a mess of the food on the table, so you can’t eat that anyway. I’ve already asked the housekeeper to make something new. You can make the trifle while you wait.” I had no memory of ever making a mango passionfruit trifle. But Isabelle, my best friend, knew perfectly well that I was severely allergic to mangoes. I knew arguing was pointless. I turned and went to the kitchen in silence. When I returned with the bowl, my hands were swollen and covered in an angry, red rash. Rhys’s eyes narrowed. He grabbed my hands. “What happened to you? Are you hurt? Why are they so swollen?” He started to pull me towards the first-aid kit. But at that moment, there was a sharp crash from the table. Isabelle was bent over, gagging, tears welling in her eyes. “Ava, what did you put in this? Why do I feel so sick after eating it?” Rhys froze. He immediately dropped my hands and rushed to her side. “Ava, why would you do that?” “I know you hate me and Isabelle, but the baby is innocent! How could you be so cruel as to harm a child?” His eyes were daggers. I opened my mouth to defend myself. But he cut me off with a cold glare, shouldering past me as he rushed Isabelle out of the house. I stood by the table for a long time, my blood sugar so low I nearly fainted. Finally, I pulled out a chair, preparing to eat the leftover scraps. But the housekeeper came out and, right in front of me, scraped all the food into the trash. “Mr. Donovan called,” she said, not meeting my eye. “He said Miss Langford is not doing well. As a punishment, you are no longer allowed to eat in this house.” “The kitchen will be locked from now on. You are not to go near it. If you do, you will be thrown out.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. When he had signed this house over to me, he had declared to everyone that I was the lady of the house. That everything, including him, was mine to command. Now, he threatened to throw me out as if I were nothing more than an ant. I went to my desk and pulled a document from a drawer. We never had a wedding, but Rhys had insisted we get legally married. He’d said that since I’d tricked him by pretending to be Isabelle, he couldn’t trust me not to leave. He had to tie me to him. And for three years of blissful devotion, the thought of leaving had never once crossed my mind. But now, with Isabelle in the picture, everything had changed. I opened the folder, and with a few swift strokes, signed my name on the divorce papers. Then I sealed it in an envelope and took it with me to the hospital. I met with the doctor I’d scheduled. After the examination, he came back with the results, a gentle look on his face. “The baby is still alive. It has a very strong heartbeat. Do you want to try and save it?” I stared at him, stunned into silence for a moment before I finally managed to whisper, “No.” He sighed, not giving up. “But Mr. Donovan has been so looking forward to having a child with you. He knows it’s difficult for you to conceive, and he never wanted to pressure you by talking about it. If he knew, he’d be overjoyed!” While I hesitated, the doctor stepped out of the room. I heard him on the phone with Rhys, telling him I was in the maternity ward. Less than a minute later, Rhys burst in, breathless. He looked me up and down, a wave of relief washing over his face when he saw I was unharmed. “Ava, you’re being a little difficult. You knew I was with Isabelle. Why would you have the doctor call me over here?” I was about to tell him I hadn’t, but Rhys grabbed my arm and pulled me down the hall to another room. Two people were standing guard outside. The moment they saw me, they approached. Isabelle’s father, his face contorted with rage, slapped me hard. “You ungrateful little witch!” he snarled, jabbing a finger in my face. “My daughter treated you like a sister, and you tried to poison her!” “You took her place on that date, stole her position as Mrs. Donovan, and she suffered in silence. Now that you’ve lost his favor, you try to blame her? No wonder Rhys presents her to the world as his wife and keeps you hidden away!” I looked at Rhys in shock. So that’s why he never took me to any events. That’s why whenever I called Isabelle to pass the time, she was always coincidentally busy. How many other secrets were they keeping from me? My cheek stung. I couldn’t swallow the insult. I raised my hand to strike back. “It was Isabelle who didn’t want the arranged marriage! She was threatening to jump off a roof! That’s the only reason I went in her place!” But Rhys caught my wrist, his brow furrowed. “Ava, Isabelle just collapsed. The doctors worked for hours to stabilize her. Just let her parents vent.” “They’re right. If you hadn’t pretended to be her on our date, I never would have wronged the Langford family.” I stared at him, my world tilting on its axis. Before I could react, Isabelle’s mother shoved me. My back slammed against a cold, hard bench, the impact knocking the wind out of me. She kicked at me with her sharp heels. “You’re a little tramp! Seducing Rhys, scheming against my daughter! You’ll pay for every tear she’s shed!” I curled into a ball, trying to shield myself, my eyes pleading with Rhys for help. He stood frozen, his fists clenched, his eyes filled with a mixture of pity and pain. But his feet were rooted to the spot. “Ava, just endure it for a little while. I’ll make it up to you after today.”

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After breaking up with Liam Sterling, I found out I was three months pregnant. I raised our little Lily all by myself for five years. But the sheer exhaustion of working three jobs finally caught up with me. I suffered a massive stroke and died suddenly. Now, I was floating in mid-air. And suddenly, I saw him. Liam Sterling, who was now a Hollywood superstar. He was knocking on my front door. 01 It took a long time for the door to open. “Who are you?” The one opening the door was my daughter, Lily. She had to stand on her tiptoes to reach the deadbolt, which took her a while. She looked warily at my ex-boyfriend—her biological father, Liam Sterling. Seeing it wasn’t me, Lily immediately tried to close the door. Liam caught the frame with his hand. He frowned. “Where is Emma Hayes?” Lily thought for a moment, looked up at him, and gave a bright smile. “You’re looking for my mommy! Mommy isn’t home.” “She’s at work.” Liam’s face darkened. He asked again, “Where is your dad?” It’s you! You are Lily’s father! I screamed frantically from mid-air, but he couldn’t hear me. Lily tilted her head. “My daddy is far, far away making lots of money. Mommy said when he makes enough money, he’ll come pick us up.” Liam’s frown deepened. Suddenly, he let out a self-deprecating laugh. He muttered to himself in a low voice. “Heh, I must be out of my mind. I actually thought you’d wait for me.” With that, he turned to leave. But he suddenly stopped. He asked for Lily’s full name. “Lily. Lily Hayes.” “Mommy says I’m her little flower, so my name is Lily.” Lily said it with so much pride. Liam’s eyes searched her small face. It was as if he was looking for some kind of proof. But in the end, he didn’t say anything. He stepped into his black stretch SUV. I looked at the car driving away into the distance, screaming. Don’t go, Liam! If you leave, what is our Lily going to do? She’s only five! How is she supposed to survive all alone? I turned back to my daughter, who was blinking her big eyes at the dust kicked up by the departing car, and coaxed her softly. Be a good girl, Lily. Go chase after Daddy. Mommy is gone now, he’s the only one who can take care of you. But Lily couldn’t hear me either. She just muttered, “What a weird man.” And she closed the door. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to slap myself across the face. Why didn’t I tell Lily who her father was sooner? Why didn’t I ever show her a picture of him? This was all my fault. It didn’t matter that I was dead. But my daughter… what was going to happen to her? 02 Lily swung her little legs from the chair, waiting for me to come home. The last light of the sunset faded. The sky grew dark. Normally, I would have been home by now. Because I knew Lily was terrified of the dark. But I was already dead. My coworker, Sarah, had just received the notification at the hospital that my resuscitation had failed. She was told to contact my next of kin. But when she opened my phone, she found the “Family” section of my contacts completely empty. However, everyone at work knew I had a child. So, that night, the phone in our tiny apartment rang. Lily ran toward the phone on her little legs. “Hello?” That sweet, innocent voice brought tears to my coworker’s eyes. She didn’t know how to explain to a little girl that her mother had passed away. That she was never coming back. “Is that you, Mommy?” Lily’s voice was full of excitement. “Are you working late again? It’s okay, I’m fine. I’m not hungry at all. I just ate the muffins Mommy bought.” She patted her round little belly as she spoke. “Lily… your mommy… she just passed away.” Lily asked, confused: “Where is passed away? Is it far? It’s okay, Mommy will definitely take me with her.” Once, because of a last-minute schedule change, I had to travel out of state for work. I couldn’t bear to leave Lily home alone. So I took her with me. It was Lily’s first time leaving our city. Sitting on the Amtrak train, she pointed at the scenery outside the window, thrilled. So right now, Lily still thought I just went on another business trip. Hearing her innocent reply, Sarah let out a heavy sigh. She didn’t know what else to say. She could only hang up the phone. In the end, she represented the company and sent my body to be cremated. All that was left of me was a single urn of ashes. 03 That night felt agonizingly long. It was the first time I hadn’t come home. Every so often, Lily would run to the front door, peeking out to see if I was there. But quickly, the darkness of the hallway would scare her back inside. She ran back and forth like this countless times. Unable to fight off her exhaustion. She finally fell asleep hugging the teddy bear I had bought her. Dawn broke. She jolted awake. She hurriedly ran to the door again. Seeing I still wasn’t back. A flash of disappointment crossed her face. But soon, she comforted herself. “It’s okay. Mommy is just really busy. She’ll be back soon.” Having eaten almost nothing the night before, her stomach began to rumble. She could only eat another muffin to fill the void. Then she opened a carton of milk I had bought. Mimicking what I used to do, she wanted to heat up some water on the stove to warm the milk. “Mommy said I can’t drink it cold, or my tummy will hurt.” As she spoke, she held a heavy pot filled with water. But her hands were so small, how could she possibly lift it? I was frantic, screaming at her to stop. But I was completely powerless. Standing on a stool, just as she tried to heave the pot onto the stove burner… Her grip slipped. Water splashed everywhere. The heavy metal pot crashed down right onto her tiny foot. Instantly, the top of her foot swelled up. My heart ached as if it were being carved out with a knife. But at the same time, I was so thankful the water hadn’t been boiling yet. Lily began to whimper softly. Quickly, she hugged her foot and blew on it. “Mommy isn’t here. I’ll blow on it myself, and it won’t hurt anymore.” She wiped her tears away. She dragged the stool over. She sat right in front of the living room, staring unblinkingly at the front door. “I won’t cry. When Mommy comes back, she’ll tell me how brave I am.” Lily was so well-behaved. So mature. So mature that it shattered my heart. How I wished she would resent me right now, blame me for being a terrible mother. But she just sat there, waiting so patiently for me to come home. 04 Two hours later. A car pulled up in front of our apartment building. Sarah knocked on the door. Lily was overjoyed, thinking it was me. She ran as fast as she could. But she tripped and took a hard fall. Her little leg was scraped by the sharp edge of the doorframe. But she just frowned, quickly scrambled back up, and opened the door. When she saw it wasn’t me. Her emotions finally broke. She burst into loud, heartbroken sobs. “Mommy… why isn’t Mommy back yet?” “My foot is swollen, and my leg hurts so much. I’ve been so brave!” “But Mommy still isn’t back. Mommy doesn’t care about me anymore.” “Does Mommy not love me anymore?” Lily cried so hard she could barely breathe. Hearing her, my heart shattered into a million pieces. … Sarah hurriedly comforted her. She found the first-aid kit in the bathroom, disinfected Lily’s scrape, and put a Band-Aid on it. After making sure she was okay. Sarah brought in my urn and the belongings cleared from my desk at work. Lily looked confused. But then she spotted a photograph I had kept on my desk. It was from a recent trip to the amusement park. In the photo, I was holding Lily, and we were both laughing brightly. She recognized me. She asked, “Miss, are these my mommy’s things? Where did my mommy go?” Sarah fought back her tears. She pointed at the small urn. “Your mommy… she’s inside here. If you miss her, you can hug it and talk to it.” Lily violently shook her head. “How could my mommy turn into a jar? She’s not a wizard, she can’t just magically shapeshift! You’re lying.” She pulled my photograph tightly into her arms. “This is my mommy.” She pressed a loud kiss to the photo. And smiled sweetly. Sarah let out a heavy sigh and placed my urn high up on a shelf. Then she looked around the empty apartment. She asked, “Where is your daddy? Are you all alone here?” Lily lowered her head. “Mommy said Daddy went far away to make money. I haven’t seen him since I was born.” Sarah looked at her in disbelief. “Do you have any other family? Grandparents? Aunts or uncles?” Lily shook her head. Sarah couldn’t hold back her tears any longer and pulled Lily into a tight hug. “You poor, sweet girl.” “You’re so little… how could your mother bear to leave you all alone in this world?” Lily argued back. “Mommy didn’t leave me! Mommy loves me the most!” Sarah pressed a debit card into Lily’s small hand. “This is the compensation money from your mommy’s company. There’s $30,000 on this card. The PIN is 0000. Keep it safe. Don’t ever lose it.” Lily nodded seriously. She gripped the card tightly in her fist. Because we were so poor, I had taught Lily from a young age that money was important and had to be guarded carefully. Now, she had etched that lesson into her heart. After figuring out the next steps. Sarah made a call to the local child protective services. They were an organization specifically for children with nowhere else to go. My heart swelled with profound gratitude. Floating in the air, I bowed deeply to my coworker. Thank you. If she could get into a safe children’s home, at least my little Lily would survive. 05 When the social workers arrived to pick Lily up. She refused to go. She clung to the doorframe, wailing at the top of her lungs. “You’re kidnappers! Don’t take me! I’m not worth any money!” The social workers didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The lead woman crouched down. She spoke to her gently: “We aren’t kidnappers, sweetie. We’re taking you to a new home.” Lily frowned. She told them very seriously. “This is my home! If you take me away, Mommy won’t be able to find me when she comes back. She’ll be so worried!” I covered my mouth, tears streaming down my face. The social workers exchanged a look, their own eyes growing damp. They gently coaxed her: “Be a good girl, Lily. Your mommy is the one who asked us to take you there. She had to go on a very long trip for work, and she can’t come back just yet. She asked us to take care of you until she does.” “Plus, there are lots of other kids just like you there. You won’t be lonely.” Lily listened carefully. She blinked her big eyes at them. “Really?” “Of course.” Only then did Lily slowly let go of the doorframe. But right before getting into the car. Lily ran back inside the apartment. She grabbed the teddy bear I bought her and the photograph of us. She held them tight against her chest. As the car drove away. It was Lily’s first time traveling so far with strangers. The bravery she had forced herself to show earlier… Shattered. Fear and panic washed over her all at once. She finally broke down sobbing. “Mommy, I promise I’ll be good. I’ll be so good.” “You have to come pick me up soon, okay?” I drifted behind the car, floating, following. Wherever Lily went, I went. But she couldn’t see me. And I couldn’t hold her.

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