Category: English

Jasper Hayes came to the orphanage to pick out a little sister. All the girls crowded around, praying to be the chosen one. I was the only one who hid in the closet and fell asleep. I thought I could escape the fate of my past life—becoming the adopted daughter of the Hayes family, and eventually, Jasper’s wife. I wanted to live freely and happily this time. But when I woke up, I saw Jasper standing in front of the closet door. He smiled and asked me, “Lola, will you come home with me?” 1 When I saw Jasper’s face appear before my eyes, I thought I was still stuck in that nightmare. It wasn’t until the director called me with a stern face: “Lola, why are you sleeping in here?” Only then did I sober up, realizing that everything in front of me was not a dream. Seeing me frozen in place, the director reached out and pulled me out of the closet. She straightened my collar and pushed me in front of the Hayes couple: “You fell asleep. Master Hayes told us not to wake you.” “Everyone has been waiting for you for a long time.” Jasper, who was named, was standing in front of his parents with a faint smile on his face, looking at me. At this moment, he was somewhat different from the Jasper in my memory who was always cold to me. He greeted me proactively: “Hello, Lola.” I don’t know why, but hearing my name from his mouth felt indescribably weird. I frowned and looked away, avoiding his gaze. But I was wondering in my heart, they could have chosen anyone else, why did they have to wait for me? “Waiting for me? For what?” The director bent down to explain to me: “They want to adopt you. Lola, you’re going to have a home, parents, and a brother.” The usually unsmiling director rarely smiled at me at this moment. I guess she was happy for me. For children in the orphanage, being adopted is lucky. But the director didn’t know that I was reborn. I knew long ago that Jasper would come to the orphanage today to pick a sister, so I deliberately hid in the closet. “Lola, will you come home with us?” Mrs. Hayes held my hand and said gently, “Jasper has always wanted a sister. You can be his sister from now on.” This scene was exactly the same as in my previous life. Memories of my past life flashed through my mind like a slideshow. I immediately withdrew my hand and looked up at the director: “Director, I don’t want to be adopted by them.” As soon as the words came out, everyone was surprised. The one with the strongest reaction was Jasper. He frowned and asked me, “Why?” “Because I don’t want to be your sister.” Even though I rejected him, there was no trace of anger on Jasper’s face. Instead, his tone became gentler, with a hint of imperceptible indulgence. “Then don’t be my sister. Just come back to the Hayes house with me and live together, okay?” The director tugged at my sleeve secretly, but still couldn’t stop me from rejecting Jasper again. “No.” I thought Jasper would give up. But when the director asked the Hayes couple if they wanted to pick another girl, Jasper suddenly said loudly: “Mom, I just want her.” He said, “Only she looks most like my sister.” 2 In my last life, Jasper chose me among many girls because I looked somewhat similar to his late sister. At that time, knowing I was chosen, I felt that God really favored me. I was taken back to the Hayes family, renamed Lola Hayes. And I had my own room in the huge villa. Even if that room didn’t truly belong to me, I was satisfied. Mrs. Hayes said: “Children from orphanages are inevitably petty and can’t present themselves well.” So I changed my old habits and became less and less like myself. Mrs. Hayes was strict with me. I had to practice piano for more than twelve hours a day. Even though the teacher explicitly said I had no talent for learning piano, Mrs. Hayes still accompanied me to practice every day. But some things cannot be forced. “I’m sorry, Mom, I still can’t play well.” Every time I apologized, Mrs. Hayes would look at me even more dotingly and comfort me. “It’s okay, as long as Lola works hard, you will be able to play well in the future.” Later I learned that playing the piano was the hobby of Mrs. Hayes’ deceased daughter. Mrs. Hayes treated me like this just to find the shadow of another person in me. But I didn’t care. A fish lacking water doesn’t care if the water it gets is clean; it just needs to survive. Water to fish, love to me. Having it is enough. I studied piano harder and tried harder to please Mrs. Hayes. We looked more and more like a real mother and daughter. Until Jasper’s engagement party, he was drugged, and I happened to break into his room. Mr. Hayes fainted from anger when he saw me and Jasper. Mrs. Hayes slapped me in the face: “I shouldn’t have brought you to the Hayes family in the first place.” Jasper looked at me silently, with emotions in his eyes that I couldn’t understand. But I think he probably regretted it too. Regretted choosing me as his sister in the beginning. “I don’t know what happened. I didn’t drug my brother.” I tried hard to explain for myself, but no one believed me. So much so that later, whenever Jasper betrayed me and our marriage countless times, he would say: “You didn’t hesitate to drug me to marry your own brother. All this now is your retribution.” Jasper hated me. So after marriage, he always liked to slap my face in public and embarrass me. Many people in our circle were betting on how long my marriage with him would last. “At most a year. Once the child is born, Jasper will kick her out.” Unfortunately, the result surprised everyone. Jasper and I were entangled for nineteen years. Even after I died, the words “Wife of Jasper Hayes” were engraved on my tombstone. “Lola, tell me, why don’t you want to be adopted by the Hayes family?” After Jasper left with his parents, the director called me to the office. I was silent for a long time before making up a random reason: “I don’t want to leave you and everyone else.” The director sighed and advised me to think it over. I knew she meant well and hoped I would live a good life in the future. But I didn’t want to repeat the same mistakes, nor did I want to have anything to do with Jasper anymore. However, a fire that night shattered all my plans. 3 “Did you set the fire?” In the hospital, I looked at Jasper coldly and questioned him. “No.” Jasper hurriedly explained: “The fire department has found out that it was caused by aging wiring.” After speaking, he laughed self-deprecatingly. “Lola, you think too badly of me.” I had only met him two or three times in this life, but Jasper’s attitude towards me had an indescribable familiarity. “I just want to help you.” “As long as you agree to come home with me, I will pay all the treatment costs for the director.” The orphanage caught fire last night, and the director was severely burned trying to save us. I snorted coldly and mocked: “Taking advantage of someone’s danger, do you count as a good person?” Jasper didn’t explain anything for himself, only said: “Lola, it doesn’t matter if you don’t want to be my sister.” “You can just be fostered in the Hayes family.” He guided me patiently and compromised repeatedly. But I was even more curious: “Why do you insist on me going back to the Hayes family with you?” Jasper said: “Because my mom misses my sister very much these days, and you look very much like my sister.” “I want to take you home to accompany her.” I was skeptical about his words, after all, Jasper was too abnormal towards me. I asked him: “Is that all?” Jasper hesitated for a moment, then nodded: “That’s all.” Although I didn’t want to get involved with Jasper, the director was still lying in the hospital bed. On the way back to the Hayes house, Jasper kept talking to me, but I remained silent. He probably knew he was annoying, so he softened his tone to make up for it. “The Hayes family can provide you with better conditions. No matter what, it’s better than being in the orphanage.” “Lola, don’t blame me. I’m doing this for your own good.” I’m doing this for your own good… Jasper in my past life also said this sentence. Jasper hated me for most of his life. Only when I was dying did his attitude towards me soften a bit. But by then, I was beyond cure, with only a kitten to accompany me every day. On a whim, Jasper suddenly came back to the villa to see me and had the cat I raised for half a year thrown away. I asked him: “Why?” He looked at me askance then and also said: “I’m doing this for your own good.” At that time I knew, him saying it was for my own good didn’t mean he really wanted what was best for me. This sentence was just an excuse for him to satisfy his selfishness and desire for control. Or perhaps it was another way for him to torture me. After all, he was always like this. Whatever I liked, he destroyed. … As soon as the car arrived at the Hayes home, I saw Mrs. Hayes standing at the villa door. Jasper told her in advance that he would bring me back. So she had the room on the second floor cleaned up early. “Lola, this is your room from now on.” Mrs. Hayes held my hand affectionately: “Do you like it?” I looked down at the hand held by Mrs. Hayes, stunned for a moment, then withdrew it. I was no longer the Lola who longed for motherly love in my previous life. “Mrs. Hayes, this is your biological daughter’s room, right?” “There are many of her old things in the room, and you have preserved them very well.” “I can tell you cherish these things very much.” “If I live in this room, you will definitely be sad if I accidentally break these things.” “I see there is a guest room downstairs. I’ll live in the guest room.” Mrs. Hayes looked at me and wanted to say something: “But…” But was interrupted by Jasper: “Mom.” “Lola wants to live downstairs. Ask the maid to tidy it up.” I looked at Jasper who spoke for me. He probably didn’t know that the bigger reason I didn’t want to live on the second floor was actually because his bedroom was right next door. In my past life, before Jasper got engaged, we got along harmoniously. Even during adolescence, when Mrs. Hayes asked me “What kind of boys does Lola like?” I looked at Jasper who just came back from running and smiled: “I like someone like brother.” This unintentional joke became the testimony of me drugging my own brother many years later. Every time I explained for myself: “I didn’t drug you.” Jasper would choke my neck and refute me: “You said you liked me when you were sixteen.” “Liked me for so many years, and finally even used means like drugging to force me to marry you. Why don’t you dare to admit it now?” 4 Probably because I returned to this villa, I dreamt of things from my past life at night. During the last period of my life, the doctor said: “It’s not good for you to stay alone all day like this. Call your family and friends to accompany you more.” “I have no family.” As for friends… My best friend before was Jasper’s fiancée, named Serena Xu. In the fifth year of my marriage with Jasper, Serena returned to the country. Jasper went to pick her up at the airport personally and organized a welcome party for her. Someone deliberately recorded a video of the party and sent it to me—the two sitting in a corner, kissing passionately. A video of only a few seconds, I watched repeatedly all night. It was also that night that I made up my mind to give up the second child of Jasper and me and propose a divorce to him. He asked me: “The reason?” I showed him that video. “Jasper, I know you were forced to marry me back then.” “But now that Serena is back, and it seems she has forgiven you, let’s divorce and go our separate ways.” Actually, before this, I had proposed divorce to Jasper many times. But I was rejected by him every time. I thought, with Serena back, he would agree this time. But Jasper still tore up the divorce agreement I prepared and deleted the video on my phone. … “Lola? Lola?” I woke up suddenly and slapped Jasper in the face. The teenage Jasper looked at me, showing a wronged look in his eyes. “I heard you crying outside the door, so I came in to check.” After speaking, he turned and walked out. He turned back at the door and said: “Get up quickly for breakfast, you’ll be late for school.” Just like in my previous life, the Hayes family transferred me to Jasper’s school. Seeing me follow him into the classroom. Someone asked him: “Jasper, who is she?” Jasper introduced me to them: “Her name is Lola, currently fostering in my home.” In a trance, I thought of my past life. Before the drugging incident, when Jasper introduced me to people, he always said: “My sister Lola.” I looked at Jasper, who was a step away from me, and suddenly realized that he seemed different from the Jasper in my memory. Neither like the teenage Jasper in the past life, nor like the Jasper who always retaliated and tortured me later. My heart skipped a beat, and I suddenly thought of something. “Jasper.” “Jas.” Just as I stopped Jasper and was about to ask my doubt, someone called him at the same time as me. Jasper glanced at me, then looked up behind me. I also turned back. The person standing at the classroom door calling him was Serena. “Jas, wait for me after school, I have something to tell you.” After speaking, Serena noticed me standing next to Jasper. Her eyes were not friendly. She looked me up and down as if sizing me up: “You are the girl fostering in the Hayes family?” After all, she was my best friend in my past life. Almost the moment Serena looked at me, I felt her obvious hostility towards me. This was completely different from the past life. In the past life, after knowing I was Jasper’s sister, Serena affectionately held my arm, called me Lola, and brought me into her social circle. But now, her attitude towards me was very similar to the last time I saw her in the past life. That meeting was very unpleasant. I asked her: “The surveillance showed that only you and I entered Jasper’s room that day. I didn’t drug him, so it was you, right?” At that time, I couldn’t figure it out. She liked Jasper so much, why did she ruin their engagement party. “Her name is Lola,” Jasper answered for me. Serena looked at me, gave a perfunctory smile, and said nothing more. Later, sitting in my seat, I sensed Serena looking back at me frequently. Even though I felt strange in my heart, I had to ignore her, withdraw my gaze, and force myself to listen to the class carefully.

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The year I was my purest self, I split the meat bun my grandma made—the size of my face—and gave half to my scrawny desk mate. From then on, if I had a bite to eat, Julian had half. Junior year, Julian transferred. He was an illegitimate child, but his father finally acknowledged him. I left him a phone number: “If your dad doesn’t feed you well, call this number and find my grandma.” Five years later, while sorting through my late grandma’s belongings, her phone suddenly rang. “Grandma, I’m hungry.” I burst into tears at the phone: “I don’t have a grandma anymore…” Within an hour, a luxury SUV pulled up downstairs. “Lily Lin, I’m sorry, I’m late.” 1 I love meat buns—baozi. Thin skin, huge filling, dripping with savory oil. My grandma learned how to make them just for me. My parents had just scraped together enough for a small apartment in the city, so Grandma took me, a country bumpkin, to live with them. Grandma said, “A girl needs to see the world. Can’t stay in the sticks forever.” During dinner break in freshman year, I pulled out a baozi as big as my face, ready to feast. A gaze was locked onto the bun in my hand. It was my bean-sprout-skinny desk mate, Julian Gu. In this class, his popularity ranked dead last. Because he was an illegitimate child and his mom was sick, no one cared about him. His staring creeped me out, so I asked, “Why don’t you go to the cafeteria?” Julian’s eyes didn’t move an inch from my baozi: “My mom’s medicine costs money. I have no money for dinner.” Only then did I notice that Julian actually had nice features, but he was too thin, his cheeks and eyes sunken. I swallowed, steeled my heart, broke off half my baozi, and handed it to him. “I’m on a diet, can’t eat this much.” Julian’s hand hovered hesitantly in the air. It wasn’t until I placed that half bun in his palm that light returned to his eyes. I felt like if I didn’t feed him, he might start gnawing on me. “Th… thank you.” Although the baozi was a bit cold, it was still fresh and delicious. Julian wolfed it down. I ate the remaining half, feeling unsatisfied. If I knew he’d eat it like that, I would have given him less. I wasn’t full yet. 2 For the next few days, I’d split half of the baozi my grandma packed for me with Julian. I didn’t want to, initially. But when he looked at me with those big, pitiful eyes, my heart softened again. I pinched the flesh on my arm, then looked at Julian’s skeleton. Actually, eating less might be okay… Julian felt bad about eating my food for free, so he offered to help me with my studies. My English was terrible, but his was great. He patiently explained grammar to me and even let me copy his notes. Over time, we became friends. Sometimes we’d walk home together after school. High schoolers’ minds are basically adults’; the class was full of hormonal energy. Any interaction between a boy and a girl became gossip for the whole class. Julian and I were the subject of rumors. The guy behind me poked Julian’s back with a pen every day: “You bastard child and this country bumpkin, a perfect match!” Julian’s face got darker each time, but he never fought back. He didn’t want trouble. After all, he had no parents or family to back him up. Until one day, a classmate saw me splitting a baozi for Julian, and the whole class exploded. “I wondered why Julian was so attentive to Lily Lin. Turns out he’s a moocher living off a woman!” “Sigh, Lily is so stupid, wasting her kindness on Julian. Even his dad doesn’t want him, yet Lily treats him like a treasure…” Before, no matter how they humiliated Julian, he never resisted. But hearing someone call me stupid, he grabbed a chair and rushed at the guy, seizing his collar. “You say one more word about Lily, and I’ll smash your head in.” Julian was thin, but he wasn’t short. And after a month of being fed my baozi, he had much more energy. His forearms even showed muscle definition. The class went silent instantly. After all, when a quiet person snaps, it’s terrifying. Julian holding that chair leg looked like he could actually kill someone. 3 Since then, no one in the class dared say a word about Julian and me. I felt I needed to tell Grandma to make the baozi bigger next time. Because Julian’s appetite was growing. I went from giving him half, to three-fifths, to two-thirds. I was about to turn into a bean sprout myself. Every time I went home, Grandma asked if I finished the baozi. Finished? It wasn’t enough! My parents worked at a factory and only came home once a month; Grandma took care of me. I could feel Grandma’s confusion. She never skimped on the meat filling, so why was her granddaughter getting thinner? Grandma pinched my cheek, turning to the kitchen mumbling, “Guess I need to make them bigger…” In the finals before the New Year, both Julian and I improved by over a hundred ranks. I went from average to above average. And Julian shot into the top seven. Before, he studied on an empty stomach, which was inefficient. With my baozi, he was energized. Sometimes when he tutored me, I’d stare at his face and zone out. Because… Julian was damn handsome! Luckily, he was unpopular, and no one else noticed him. So only I could enjoy his looks. Winter break freshman year, my parents, Grandma, and I went back to the countryside for Chinese New Year. I turned to Julian, who was packing his bag. “What are you doing for winter break?” “Working.” In a blink, it was New Year’s Eve. The courtyard of our rural home was piled with red firecracker paper, and the TV was counting down to the New Year. I stood on the hill in the backyard, making a wish to the moon. “I hope Julian can eat his fill every year.” Wait, no, that wish is too simple. By the time I wanted to change it, the New Year bell had rung. Oh well. Eating his fill is good enough. 4 School started again, and everyone wore light spring clothes. Classmates were surprised to find I had slimmed down significantly and looked much better. Julian was even leaner than before the break. Looks like I have to fatten him up again. One morning, Julian kept his head down, silent. He ignored my greeting, just pointing to my desk drawer. Someone had stuffed a love letter inside. I read it over and over. After all, this was the first love letter I’d ever received. Julian snatched it away. “It’s just a scrap of paper. If you want one, I can write you one too!” Watching him panic like a dog jumping over a wall was hilarious. Julian suddenly turned red realizing what he said. We both lowered our heads. At the end of freshman year, I improved another hundred ranks. And Julian secured a spot in the top three. Grandma wanted to celebrate my “Most Improved” award, so she cooked a feast. I invited Julian. My parents weren’t home. Grandma welcomed Julian with a smile. “Look at this skinny child. Eat my baozi, I guarantee you won’t stay thin!” Julian and I exchanged a look, almost bursting into laughter. After dinner, I called Julian to my room to read. Julian took a rhinestone hairpin from his pocket and clipped it on my hair. “Mm, looks good. One day, I’ll replace all these with real diamonds.” A ray of sunlight slanted through the small window, hitting our profiles perfectly. He suddenly leaned down, looking at my face quietly. The sun turned his hair and eyelashes gold. If only time could freeze in this moment. If only Julian hadn’t transferred, if only Grandma hadn’t passed away… how good that would be.

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Five years after the divorce, my ex-husband submitted a wedding planning request to my company. I meant to refuse, but my assistant, Paige, insisted the request was direct: he had specified my name and was offering triple the standard fee. For the money, I agreed. I was giving the bride a final dress fitting—all business, nothing personal—when she snickered. “I heard the reason the Kellers kicked you out was because you couldn’t conceive?” “Heh. A woman who can’t give the family an heir… what’s the difference between her and someone who cheats?” “Not like me. I’m about to give the Kellers their golden grandson. They’re so thrilled, they spent millions just for this wedding.” She peered down her nose at me. “Don’t think I don’t know. You’re only here today because you regret divorcing my husband.” “Just a warning: if you dare try to hook up with him, I will make your life a living hell!” I smiled. My twin daughter and son, Leo and Luna, had just turned two. As for Dean Keller, how could a sterile man possibly father a child? Besides, my event planning company is now valued at over a billion dollars. I didn’t have the time to regret walking away from a piece of trash. 1 I let the smile fall from my face, kneeling to gently smooth out the train of her gown. “Then congratulations are in order.” Tessa Marlow froze, then kicked the toolkit next to my hand, sending brushes and cosmetics skittering across the floor. She loomed over me, her voice dripping with disdain. “Humble yourself for a few broken dollars. Pathetic.” “A barren woman is useless and disgusting. No wonder he divorced you.” “I think this job is fake. You just can’t bear to let go of my husband!” I chuckled softly, calmly picking up a fallen foundation compact. “Mrs. Keller.” “You, more than anyone, should know the real reason why Mr. Keller and I divorced, shouldn’t you?” At the sound of my words, Tessa’s face flickered. Back then, she was a financially-supported student the Kellers had taken in, living temporarily at our estate after graduation. She seemed sweet and demure, and I genuinely grew fond of her. I bought her whatever she fancied, and she was always the first person I thought of when bringing back gifts from business trips. Everyone said we were like sisters. I never imagined that day I came home early from a trip, excited to give her a little something, I would find her and Dean—naked and intertwined—in the bathtub. They were so consumed by the moment, they didn’t even notice me standing frozen in the bathroom doorway. Rage hit me like a physical blow. I started sobbing, throwing every cosmetic, every bottle, every object in the bathroom at them. Dean scrambled to cover himself, immediately shielding Tessa in his arms. He rounded on me, his face red with fury. “Sierra Rhys! Haven’t you caused enough drama?” I had been married to him for five years; I loved him deeply. I gave him two options: kick Tessa out, or divorce me. But that night, Tessa slit her own wrist. She collapsed at my feet, weeping hysterically. “Mrs. Keller! I was wrong! I never should have touched Mr. Keller!” “Please! I’m begging you! Don’t post those photos online!” “If you agree, I’ll even kill myself!” I didn’t understand what she was talking about, but Dean had already grabbed my phone. He opened my photo album, and there, inexplicably, were dozens of nude photos of Tessa. Dean’s eyes went bloodshot. For the first time, he hit me. “Sierra! I am so disappointed in you!” His strength was terrifying. He beat me so severely I landed in the hospital with a broken hand, cracked ribs, and a punctured eardrum. I remember it clearly: when the doctor called him to sign off on my emergency surgery, he snapped, “Tessa can’t even sleep because of her! She’s ruined everything!” “That woman? Just let her die!” It took three surgeries before I finally pulled through. When I woke up, I understood everything. I filed for divorce. The rumor about me being barren? Just the dirt the Kellers threw on me to cover up Dean’s cheating and the violence. Five years had passed. I was done hating. Now, I was perfectly happy with my husband, Rhys, and my two beautiful twins. Thinking of all this, I offered only a cool, detached smile. “Do you truly believe I’d regret leaving a man who cheats and assaults his wife, Mrs. Keller?” “I will finish this order and leave. Rest assured.” Tessa seemed to recover. She jutted her neck out and yelled, “Just keep being smug! You’ll regret it when you see my husband!” My assistant, Paige, walked in holding a steaming cup of coffee. She heard the tail end of the exchange and whispered in my ear, “Ms. Rhys, what happened?” I simply smiled, indicating it was nothing. I re-organized my toolkit, stood up, and brushed imaginary dust off my skirt. “Mrs. Keller, the dress is perfect. Shall we move on to makeup?” Tessa snorted, plopping down in front of the vanity. She smoothed her hair, her tone careless. “Honestly, having a hand-me-down like you do my makeup feels like bad luck.” “But my husband has a kind heart. He said he felt sorry for you—a bitter ex being kept by some old man—so he threw you some money.” She didn’t bother to lower her voice. The bridesmaids and several female relatives instantly clustered around, their eyes wide with curiosity and judgment. The foundation brush paused in my hand. “Kept?” 2 “Mrs. Keller, slander like that can land you in serious trouble.” I put the brush down. “Can you prove what you’re saying?” She shot up from the chair. “Am I lying?!” Tessa pointed to herself, her voice rising. “I’m a Senior Director at this very hotel!” “I’ve seen you here a dozen times! You walk in and out of here every day, with a different old man every time! I have witnesses!” “I’m not slandering you! If you don’t believe me, let’s check the security footage!” I understood instantly. She seemed to be entirely unaware that my husband, Rhys Easton, is one of the wealthiest men in the state. And this entire hotel is his property. The “old men” she was referring to were my company’s shareholders, meeting in the conference room. Were we suddenly doing something wrong by holding board meetings in our own property? The surrounding guests started whispering, their eyes glinting with malicious amusement. “So that’s the ex-wife. Doesn’t look like much, no wonder he left her!” “She left Dean, and now she’s a makeup artist?” “Makeup artist is probably just a side gig! Didn’t Tessa just say she’s being bankrolled by an old man?” “Tessa’s a Director here, why would she lie?” “Haha, look at the pink diamond Tessa is wearing. That woman couldn’t earn that in a lifetime!” “Tessa, you better keep your distance! Who knows what kind of filth she’s picked up, selling herself like that.” Paige finally reacted, her voice trembling with indignation. “You! Do you even know who Ms. Rhys is?” “She personally came to handle the makeup and styling for this wedding, and you’re slandering her!” “Ms. Rhys?” Marilyn Keller, Dean’s mother, strode out of the back room, laughing a sharp, grating sound. “Sierra Rhys, I can’t believe after five years divorced from my son, you still can’t stop lying!” “Tessa is carrying the Keller heir! How dare you shout at her!” Marilyn had always hated me. She spent my entire marriage to Dean trying to break us up. Now, her face was a mask of pure disgust. She shoved me aside. “We were kind enough to let you earn a measly tip, and now you’re trying to inflate your own importance?” “A discarded woman! Who do you think you are?” “The way you treated Tessa just now… you could have upset my precious grandson!” “I am ordering you now: Kneel down and apologize to Tessa! Or do you think I won’t call your company and have you fired instantly?” Tessa slandered me first, and now she wants me to kneel? However, the job was halfway done. Getting paid was the priority. I took out my phone, my voice flat. “If you aren’t happy with my service, I can arrange for someone else to take over.” “But you’ll have to run that past Mr. Keller first, as he personally requested me.” Paige immediately backed me up. “That’s right! Our contract specifically names Ms. Rhys as the lead consultant for this wedding!” “Unless Mr. Keller approves, you can’t back out and then try to stiff us on the fee!” Tessa slapped Paige across the face. She pointed a furious finger at my assistant. “Stiff you?!” “What kind of family are the Kellers? We would try to weasel out of a few hundred, a few thousand dollars? What a joke!” A few hundred, a few thousand? I pulled Paige behind me, my anger finally peaking. “I think you misunderstand, Mrs. Keller.” “It’s not a few hundred. It’s three million dollars.” “Furthermore, I will be reserving the right to press charges for the assault on my assistant.” “Three million?!” Tessa shrieked. “A wedding planner of your caliber is trying to extort three million from the Keller family!” “Did leaving Dean make you this poor and desperate?!” At that moment, Dean rushed into the room, looking frantic.

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I opened my eyes and found myself lying in a massive dirt pit. Several villagers stood above me, shovels in hand, tossing dirt onto my face. Wait. Did I just get isekai’d? And my spawn point is a shallow grave? Once my brain rebooted, I scrambled up like a zombie on caffeine. “Hold up! Put the shovels down! I’m not dead yet!” The villagers shook their heads, looking genuinely disappointed. “Are you kidding me? I dug this hole for hours. What a waste of cardio.” “Even lightning couldn’t kill her? She’s literally unkillable. Like a cockroach.” “Those poor kids, Jayden and Lily. Back to the torture chamber with that evil witch.” The town mayor, a guy with a face like a dried apple, wasn’t giving up. “Just bury her anyway. What’s the point of keeping trash around?” A girl who looked about ten years old was on her knees, slamming her forehead into the dirt. “Please don’t bury my mom! She’s the only family Jayden and I have left!” Her voice was raw from crying. Her forehead was swollen and bleeding. The villagers finally hesitated. They muttered among themselves and eventually convinced the mayor to drop it. Of course, since they wanted me six feet under five minutes ago, nobody offered a hand to help me out. I clawed my way out of the pit, ears ringing, and collapsed on the ground, gasping for air. Be careful what you wish for, they say. Back in my world, I went to a famous fertility temple to pray for a baby. On the way home? Wham. Truck-kun sent me packing. Now, I’m stuck in a web novel as the villainous stepmother. Chapter 1 Well, I got my wish. I have kids. Two of them. In the original novel, the son, Jayden, is fourteen now. Ten years later? He becomes a rebel leader who burns half the kingdom to the ground. The daughter, Lily, is ten. Ten years later? She’s the “Femme Fatale” who corrupts the court and brings the empire to its knees. Together, this brother-sister duo turns the nation of Kyria into a slaughterhouse. And the catalyst for their villain arc? Me. Or rather, this body’s original owner, the Evil Stepmom™. The original “me” was so toxic that apparently, Mother Nature decided to strike her down with actual lightning. Now, every time I moved, my body screamed in agony. Chapter 2 “Mom? Are you… okay?” Lily looked terrified, trembling like a leaf. Pale skin, big innocent eyes. She was exactly the daughter I’d always dreamed of. I fought through the pain and gently patted her head. “Lily, honey, don’t be scared. I’m okay…” She flinched instinctively, ready to be hit. When the blow didn’t come, she just stood there, stiff as a board, confused. The mayor sneered. “Next time you get beaten, don’t come crying to us, Lily. You asked for this.” “I can’t leave her,” Lily whimpered. “She’s our mom.” My heart. This kid is an angel. A boy in ragged clothes sprinted over. When he saw me alive on the ground, the panic in his eyes instantly froze into cold detachment. “They said lightning killed you.” It was Jayden. Despite the dirt and rags, he was stunning. Even better looking than the book described. A born martial artist. But his clothes were shredded. His face was bruised, and his lip was split. I reached out to check his injuries. He flinched violently and took a step back. Just like his sister. Polite words, terrified body language. Winning these kids over was going to be a marathon, not a sprint. Jayden pulled a small pouch from his pocket and held out a few silver coins. “Mom. This is what I earned today.” Before I could speak, the crowd erupted again. “Lola, you sent Jayden to the fight pits again? He’s fourteen!” “You lazy witch! Making your son fight to the death and your daughter beg on the streets while you do nothing?” “Stepmothers really don’t have hearts. Poor kids.” Chapter 3 Jayden ignored them. He grabbed Lily’s hand with one hand and mine with the other. “We’re going home.” My kid is protecting me. Deal with it. I shot the villagers a smug look. The mayor was fuming. “Jayden! That woman is going to be the death of you!” Our “home” was a shack. The yard was covered in dead leaves. Lily immediately grabbed a broom and started sweeping. Jayden headed for the kitchen. I grabbed his arm. “Your cuts are infected. We need to put Neosporin on that.” He pulled away coldly. “I won’t die.” I turned around and—blink—there was a tube of antibiotic ointment on the table. Wait. That table was empty a second ago. Could it be…? I tested it in my head. I wish I had some Ibuprofen for the pain. Blink. A bottle of Advil appeared next to the ointment. Jackpot. I have an inventory system! Anything I need from the modern world—meds, supplies—is just a thought away. I grabbed Jayden’s arm again. Harder this time. “You are getting treated. Sit.” “Ah…” He winced. I rolled up his tattered sleeve. My breath hitched. His arm was a roadmap of bruises, cuts, and old scars. “Who did this to you? Which animal?” Jayden looked me dead in the eye. “You did.” Chapter 4 That original Lola was a monster. Jayden fought in illegal underground matches to earn money, and instead of hugging him, she beat him? I’ve been a doctor for fifteen years. I’ve seen bad stuff. But this broke me. My eyes burned. My throat tightened. Jayden’s shoulder had a deep, festering wound that looked weeks old. He’s fourteen. I couldn’t stop the tears. The original Lola would guilt-trip him into fighting so she could fuel her gambling addiction. Jayden probably thought I was putting on an act. He gritted his teeth. “…I can fight one more match tonight.” “No!” I snapped. “No more fighting. Ever.” My hands shook as I applied the ointment. “From now on, I make the money. You don’t risk your life for silver coins. And if I ever ask you for gambling money again, you have permission to tie me up.” The boy’s eyes flickered with hope for a microsecond before going dull again. My heart ached. I made him swallow the ibuprofen and watched him like a hawk until he did. Chapter 5 “Mom, Jayden… dinner’s ready.” Lily had cooked. Three white steamed buns. Two bowls of watery rice porridge that looked more like dishwater. The kids stood back, waiting for me to eat first. I grabbed a bun and took a bite. Lily watched me, swallowing hard, then looked down at her water-soup. She’d probably lived on that slop for years. No wonder they were skin and bones. In this house, white buns were for the Stepmom. I broke the rules. I handed each of them a bun. “Eat.” They froze. They were terrified. They wanted a mom so badly, even a monster was better than nothing. Well, lucky for them, I wanted kids. That night, Lily whispered to me before bed. “Mom… hide the money. Thieves have been hitting the village.” She was terrified I’d lose Jayden’s blood money. We were too poor for pens, so I used a piece of charcoal to write a note. Go out the door, turn right. East side. Third house. Lots of cash there. I slapped the note on the table and went to sleep. The next morning, I woke up to find a new note on the table. Next to it were two massive silver ingots. Thanks for the tip. Standard finder’s fee: 20%. The “third house” was the mayor’s house. He tried to bury me alive; I sent a burglar his way. Karma. And this thief had professional standards. Lily squealed. “We can eat real food!” Jayden, the stoic warrior, actually cracked a small smile. “Everyone get dressed,” I announced. “Mom’s going to town to buy meat.” When I came back hauling bags of pork, Lily had already boiled water. “Mom… did you lose it all gambling again?” Her face fell when she saw me empty-handed of cash. “No more gambling. Spending money on pork belly is way more fun.”

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On the day of my alma mater’s Centennial Gala, my assistant sent me a screenshot of an Instagram Story. The caption read: [Hope my girl kills her first performance tonight. You’re gonna shine, star. ✨] In the photo, a girl I didn’t know was standing backstage, looking like a delicate white swan. She was wearing my custom-made haute couture gown. The story was posted by my husband, Julian. And he had blocked me specifically from seeing it. I stared at the photo, fingers hovering over the keypad, ready to demand an explanation. But before I could type a word, the girl from the photo walked onto the stage. I was sitting front row center in the VIP section. She was dressed exactly like the photo. And then, she began to sing. It was the song Julian had written for me. I paused, lowered my phone, and snapped a picture of her performance. I sent it directly to Julian. “Honey, isn’t it a small world? I just found my missing couture gown and my diamond necklace right here at the gala.” “And this girl… she’s singing the love song you wrote for our anniversary.” “If I didn’t know better, I’d think I had a stalker obsessed with becoming me.” “Tell me, if I call the cops right now for grand larceny, how many years do you think she’d get?” The moment the message delivered, a spotlight swept across the audience. It landed squarely on a man holding a neon support sign in the VIP box opposite mine. His face was plastered on the giant auditorium screens. It was Julian. The sign was full of cutesy cheering words for the girl on stage. I didn’t hesitate. I stood up, turned around, and waved at my husband across the aisle with a dazzling smile. “Honey! What a coincidence!” 1 Our eyes met. Julian’s face drained of color instantly. I acted completely oblivious, looking at him with mock concern. “Julian? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Are you feeling okay?” The University President, sitting next to me, stood up and looked between us curiously. “Ms. Vance, you know Mr. Sterling?” He gestured to Julian with admiration. “Mr. Sterling is our newest major donor! The two new science labs and the library wing? All him. We even named the atrium after him!” The President turned to Julian, beaming. “Mr. Sterling, you should have told us you were coming! We would have seated you in the front row with the Guests of Honor.” It was loud. He obviously hadn’t heard me call Julian “Honey.” I smiled, walked over, and linked my arm through Julian’s stiff, freezing arm. “Oh, we know each other, President Miller.” I leaned my head on Julian’s shoulder. “We’re husband and wife. Right, honey?” Julian flinched. He forced a smile that looked more like a grimace. “I… I was just passing by. Saw the lights, thought I’d drop in. Didn’t want to bother the administration.” He stammered through an introduction. “This is my wife, Victoria Vance.” He was so guilty he couldn’t even look me in the eye. I didn’t expose his pathetic lie right there. Instead, I turned my attention to the stage. “President Miller, who is that girl singing? She has a lovely voice.” The President’s face lit up. “That’s Lily Harper. A real diamond in the rough. She comes from a very difficult background, but she’s brilliant. One of our top scholarship students.” “Mr. Sterling here is her personal sponsor. Since she enrolled, he’s been very generous to the university.” I nodded, maintaining my perfect socialite mask. After the gala, the President enthusiastically introduced Lily to us. “Lily, come meet our most distinguished alumna, Victoria Vance! The ‘Vance Legacy Scholarship’ you applied for? She established it.” He chuckled. “And what a small world—your sponsor is Ms. Vance’s husband.” Lily immediately bowed her head, gushing about how much she admired me and how grateful she was to Julian. She played the part of the humble student well, but she couldn’t hide the calculation and jealousy in her eyes. I stared at the dress she was wearing. “Miss Harper, for someone from a ‘difficult background,’ you have expensive taste. That gown is a custom piece I lost a few days ago. It’s worth six figures.” “It’s uncanny. It looks exactly like my missing auction item.” Lily’s face went pale. She looked at Julian for help. Julian shot her a warning glare. She immediately dropped her head, voice trembling. “The dress… I sewed it myself. I saw a photo in a magazine and copied it. The pearls are fake, too.” “I know it’s a knock-off, but I just wanted to look perfect for the stage.” I didn’t press further. I just turned to Julian, smiling dangerously. “Honey, you know how much I loved that dress. If I ever find out who the thief is… I’ll make sure they pay back every cent, a hundred times over.” Julian looked like he was about to vomit. He grabbed my wrist, his grip tight. “Tori, the gala is over. Let’s go home.” 2 The moment the car door slammed shut, I turned on him. “Julian. Explain.” He started sweating, his voice frantic. “Tori, it is strictly platonic! She’s just a kid from a poor village. I was moved by her grit and determination. I just wanted to help her succeed!” I laughed, cold and sharp. “She’s in college, Julian. She has hands and feet. She can work.” “From next month, you will pay her tuition only. No living allowance. No luxury gifts.” “I will contact the Dean and get her a job at the campus library. It won’t interfere with her studies.” I stared him down, laying out the law. “You will cut all personal contact. No texts, no dinners. The scholarship money goes through the school’s finance department, not your personal Venmo.” “And,” I leaned in closer, “get my things back. The dress, the necklace, the bags. I don’t care if you ‘gave’ them to her.” “Lily Harper is a scholarship student, not a sugar baby waiting to be pampered.” Julian turned red, then pale. Finally, he nodded, defeated. Our marriage was a business arrangement. The Sterling family needed the Vance family’s connections to enter the top tier of society. He was the perfect, gentle husband, and I was the powerful partner. We had a good run, even love, for a few years. I accepted that passion fades, but I have zero tolerance for betrayal. The next day, Julian brought everything back. My dress and necklace were returned in a velvet box, placed carefully on my vanity. “Tori, I made it clear to her. We’re done. No more contact,” he swore, raising his hand like a boy scout. I accepted his submission and let it go. But the moment he left for work, my phone pinged. A friend request. Lily Harper. I accepted, thinking she wanted to discuss the scholarship. Before I could type “Hello,” a wall of text hit me. [Lily]: Ms. Vance, for a trophy wife who just spends her husband’s money, don’t you think you’re controlling? [Lily]: What gives you the right to take back his gifts? [Lily]: Julian bought them with his money. They belong to him. He can give them to whoever he wants. [Lily]: Bullying a broke student… is that what gives a CEO’s wife a power trip? I read the messages and smirked. Not a white lotus after all. A viper. I typed back slowly. [Me]: Julian and I have a prenup and shared assets. His money is my money. But every cent he spent on you? That’s marital misconduct. [Me]: I can sue you for return of property and fraud. I can have you expelled and in debt before lunch. [Me]: Miss Harper, check your attitude. You’re a charity case, not a rival. [Me]: I’ll let this slide once because you’re young and stupid. Cross me again, and I pull your funding and your campus job. The chat went silent. I didn’t care. I’ve seen a dozen girls like her. They want a shortcut to the penthouse. They usually end up in the basement. Just then, my phone rang. My dad. 3 “Tori, your mom misses you. Can you come home for the weekend?” My parents’ health hadn’t been great lately. Julian and I usually visited together. “Of course,” I said. “Julian and I will be there.” But the night before we were set to leave, Julian came home with a “crisis.” “Tori, I’m so sorry. Emergency merger in Chicago. I have to fly out tonight. I can’t make it to your parents’.” He looked devastated. “I bought gifts for them—they’re in the trunk. Please apologize for me. I’ll make it up to them.” Business comes first. That was our rule. I agreed and went alone. The next day, I was walking with my parents through a luxury resort near their estate. My mom squinted at a figure in the distance. “Tori… isn’t that Julian?” My stomach dropped. I looked. It was him. Even from the back, I recognized the limited-edition trench coat—the one he was wearing in the photo he sent me from the “airport.” And hanging off his arm, taking selfies with him, was Lily Harper. I swallowed the rage and smiled at my mom. “Mom, you need new glasses. He’s in Chicago freezing his butt off. That guy just has the same coat.” “Let’s go to the spa. My treat.” Once my parents were settled in their massage session, I walked out and sent Julian my location. Then I called him. “Julian. You have three minutes to get your ass in front of me.” “Tori?” He sounded confused. “Why are you at the resort?” “I should ask you that. How’s Chicago?” He froze. Then the excuses started pouring out. “Lily… she’s never been on a vacation. Today is her birthday. She begged me… I just…” “I don’t care,” I cut him off. “Get here. Now.” “I can’t!” he snapped, suddenly defensive. “I brought her here. I can’t just abandon her. You’re with your parents, you’re fine. I’ll explain tonight.” “Julian. Three minutes. Or we are done.” He hung up on me. I called back. Straight to voicemail. Then, a notification. Lily Harper posted a Moment. [My BOSS turned off his phone just to focus on my birthday! No more interruptions! ❤️🏰] The photo was Julian’s back. The dignified CEO was wearing Mickey Mouse ears. I was shaking with fury. I messaged Lily. [Me]: Tell Julian to call me in three minutes. Or you both lose everything. Silence. Three minutes passed. I called my assistant. “Cancel the Vance Scholarship funding for Lily Harper. Get her fired from the library. Now.” Then, I screenshot Lily’s post and uploaded it to my own social media—visible to every high-society friend, business partner, and investor we knew. [My husband skipped visiting my sick parents to play Disney Prince with his charity case. He even blocked my number. Thoughts?] The internet exploded. [Comment]: WTF? Julian Sterling? The ‘Family Man’? [Comment]: Cheating on Victoria Vance? Is he suicidal? My phone lit up. Julian was calling. I declined. Blocked. The next morning, Julian’s parents dragged him to my doorstep. The moment the door opened, his father kicked him in the back of the knees. “You ungrateful moron! You’ve shamed the entire family!” His mother was crying, slapping his arm. They beat him and scolded him right in my foyer. It was theater, but it was violent theater. Finally, his mom grabbed my hand. “Tori, please. He’s an idiot, but it’s innocent! He just has a savior complex!” His dad kicked him again. “Kneel! Apologize to your wife!” Julian hit the floor. He looked up, eyes bloodshot. “Tori, I’m sorry.” “I swear, I’ll never speak to her again. Please. Forgive me.” I looked at him. He was pathetic. But… I wasn’t ready to burn it all down yet. I sighed. “Julian. This is the last time. Next time, there is no conversation.” 4 To prove his loyalty, Julian deleted Lily from everything in front of me. For months, he was the perfect husband. Home by 6 PM. Cooking dinner. Bringing flowers. We were almost back to normal. I threw myself into work. I was launching a new luxury fashion line under the Vance Group. I poured my soul into it. Three days before the launch, I told my team to rest up. The next morning, my lead model, Alice, called me sobbing. “Ms. Vance… I’ve been cut.” “What? The show is in two days.” “Mr. Sterling… he moved the launch to today. And he replaced me.” My brain short-circuited. I grabbed my keys and sped to the venue. When I burst in, Julian was on stage, mic in hand, beaming at the press. And standing next to him, the “Face” of my brand… was Lily Harper. She was wearing my designs. My jewelry. My hard work. I saw red. I stormed the stage and snatched the mic. “Stop the music!” I pointed at Lily. “Take that off. Now.” “You don’t deserve to wear my designs.” Lily shrank back, tears instantly springing to her eyes. “Ms. Vance, I didn’t know… please…” Julian stepped in front of her. “Tori! This was a business decision. Don’t take it out on her!” “Business decision?” I laughed hysterically. “Alice ‘got sick,’ right?” Alice walked out from behind me. “I’m not sick! His secretary fired me this morning!” The reporters went wild. Cameras flashed like lightning. “Julian,” I hissed. “You swore on your knees. You crossed the line. This is my project.” Julian glared at me. “It’s a Vance project under the Sterling Group umbrella! I am the CEO. I decide who the model is!” “You’re too controlling, Tori! You cut off a poor girl’s funding over petty jealousy! You bullied her so bad she wanted to hurt herself!” “If I didn’t step in to help her, her blood would be on your hands! I’m cleaning up your mess!” “Helping her?” I screamed. “You call parading your mistress in my designs ‘helping’? You’re disgusting.” “Victoria Vance!” he roared. “If you make another scene, I will fire you from your own board! You can go be a housewife!” Slap. The sound echoed through the hall. My hand stung. Julian touched his cheek, eyes murderous. “Security! Get these crazy women out of here!” Two guards grabbed me and Alice and dragged us out the side door. I stood on the sidewalk, smoothing my dress. I wasn’t crying. I was smiling. “It’s okay, Alice,” I said to the weeping model. “You’re hired by Vance Corp directly. Triple salary.” Julian Sterling. You want war? I pulled out my phone and called my father. “Dad. Mom. It’s time.” “Initiate the hostile takeover. Gut the Sterling Group.”

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On Christmas Eve, my husband wanted a thrill. He snuck his childhood sweetheart into my high-security research lab for a tryst, using my credentials to override the locks. She went rogue, touching things she shouldn’t have, and smashed a vital piece of containment equipment. The result? A catastrophic virus leak. Seventy-two researchers trapped inside, infected, and left to die. But when the dust settled, everyone pointed the finger at me. My husband, Mark, stood tall on the moral high ground. “Even though you’re my wife, Sarah, I can’t protect you. How could I face my dead colleagues? They were brilliant minds, patriots!” His mistress, Chloe, chimed in with a tearful plea. “Sarah, making a mistake at work isn’t shameful, but this is seventy-two lives! You have to turn yourself in. Stop running from responsibility.” I tried to explain, but I was drowned out. The furious families of the victims surrounded me. I felt the cold steel of a knife, once, twice… over twenty times. As I lay dying on the cold floor, my vision fading, I heard Mark whisper to Chloe: “Good thing I used Sarah’s badge to get you in. Since it’s her login, she takes the fall.” Then, darkness. When I opened my eyes, I was back in my office. It was the morning of Christmas Eve. Chloe had just broken into the lab. 1 “Sarah! How can you just sit there drinking coffee? Do you realize you’ve killed everyone in the containment wing?!” My husband, Mark, kicked open my office door. He stormed in, launching immediately into a tirade. My colleagues jumped, exchanging bewildered glances. “The containment wing? Killed who?” I sat perfectly still in my ergonomic chair, taking a slow sip from my mug. “I’ve been sitting here all morning. I haven’t stepped foot near the labs. What does any of this have to do with me?” “You’re still lying!” Mark screamed, veins bulging in his neck. “You tampered with the equipment! You caused a malfunction that led to a Level 4 leak! The whole building is contaminated!” It was the exact same script as before. I laughed internally. In my past life, Mark cheated on me with Chloe. To spice up their affair, he gave her my clearance badge. She broke a centrifuge, triggered a leak, and they framed me. Last time, the moment I heard “virus leak,” I panicked. I ran to the lab, desperate to help. My anxiety looked like guilt. This time, I was the calmest person in the room. “A virus leak? If it’s that serious, why aren’t you initiating lockdown protocols instead of screaming at me? Seems like you care more about pinning blame than saving our colleagues.” Mark choked on his words. His face flushed a deep, ugly red. “Don’t change the subject! The access logs show only you entered the lab this morning. Who else could it be?” He found his footing again, pivoting to attack. “You’re the culprit. You should be down there fixing this, not hiding in here while they die!” He lunged forward, grabbing my wrist to drag me out. “Come with me to the main lobby. You need to answer for what you’ve done!” My colleagues were getting restless. The accusation was too serious to ignore. I yanked my hand back. His grip left a red welt on my skin. “I can walk,” I said coldly. “I’ll go. Not to confess, but to prove I didn’t do a damn thing.” Mark sneered. “Still stubborn? Wait until you see the families.” We arrived at the lobby of the Science Complex. A crowd had already gathered. Chloe was there, blending in with the terrified staff. When I appeared, the atmosphere shifted. Dozens of eyes locked onto me. They had already been told I was the “Patient Zero” of this disaster. Someone spoke, voice trembling. “Sarah… did you really cause the leak? Is that why the hazard signs are up?” I looked at the yellow tape blocking the corridor: BIOHAZARD. DO NOT ENTER. “I didn’t cause the leak,” I said loud enough for everyone to hear. “But I did put up the sign.” Mark’s eyes flickered with surprise, but he covered it quickly. “See? She admits she put up the sign! If you’re innocent, why seal the area? You’re trying to cover up your mistake by burying everyone inside! You’re trying to silence the witnesses!” 2 The crowd murmured. Doubt was spreading like the virus Mark claimed was loose. “He’s right… there are a dozen people on the night shift we can’t reach.” “If she sealed the doors, they’re trapped.” “My God, a Level 4 breach kills in hours.” Before I could speak, the sound of rushing footsteps echoed from the entrance. The families. Many lived in the nearby company housing. They had heard the rumors. “What is going on?!” a woman screamed. “Why isn’t my husband picking up his phone?” “Is there a leak? Is my son inside?” An elderly woman grabbed the arm of a junior researcher. “Please, tell me the truth. Is it safe?” “We… we don’t know,” the researcher stammered, looking at the ominous warning tape. “It might be critical…” A wail of pure anguish pierced the air. People tried to rush the tape. Security guards held them back, struggling against the tide of desperate relatives. “Let me in! My wife is in there!” It was chaos. Mark watched the scene, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his face. He turned on me, raising his voice to be heard over the sobbing. “Sarah! Look at this! Are you still going to deny it? If you hadn’t messed with the pressure valves, none of this would be happening!” The families froze. Slowly, they turned their heads toward me. The elderly woman who had been asking questions let go of the researcher and grabbed me. Her hands were shaking. “Director Sarah… is it true? Did you kill my son?” I supported her trembling frame. “Ma’am, it wasn’t me. I swear, I didn’t do this.” That’s when Chloe stepped out from the crowd. She put on her best ‘concerned citizen’ face. “Sarah… please stop lying,” she sobbed softly. “I saw you running out of the lab at 8:00 AM when I was bringing Mark his breakfast. You looked so guilty. I know work is stressful, but… these are human lives!” Mark nodded vigorously. “Exactly! The digital logs confirm it. Only Sarah’s ID badge was used at 8:00 AM. There is no other suspect!” It was a perfect pincer movement. Just like last time. They riled up the crowd until logic didn’t matter anymore. Last time, the grief-stricken families beat me to death before I could utter a complete sentence. I saw the hatred kindling in their eyes. They began to close in, forming a tight, suffocating circle. Mark seized the moment. Smack! He slapped me across the face. “You incompetent bitch! It wasn’t enough to screw up the experiment? You had to cover it up? These people are patriots! They are fathers, mothers, sons!” “How do you sleep at night? Do you hear their screams?” “Look at these families, Sarah! Look at them!” He was conducting them like an orchestra of rage. “You murderer!” a mother screamed, shoving me hard. “My son praised you! He trusted you! You monster!” “My dad promised he’d be home for Christmas dinner!” “Die! You should just die!” They were on me. Hands clawing, fists flying. I fell to the linoleum floor. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and fury. Mark stood back, looking righteous. “Confess, Sarah! Even I won’t protect you. You need to pay for this with your life!” I curled into a ball, protecting my head. Just as a boot was about to connect with my ribs, a booming voice echoed through the lobby. “POLICE! EVERYBODY BACK UP!” 3 The motion stopped instantly. Through the gaps in the crowd, I saw a squad of uniformed officers swarming the lobby. The lead officer held up his badge. “We received a call about a riot in progress.” He looked at me—hair messed up, cheek swelling, uniform torn. “Did you call 911, ma’am?” I coughed, pulling myself up. “I did.” Mark’s face paled for a fraction of a second before he switched tactics. He pointed a shaking finger at me. “Officer! You have to arrest her! She committed an act of bio-terrorism! She caused a massive virus leak due to negligence and killed everyone in that wing!” “She’s a murderer! She has the audacity to call the police? Take her away!” I knew Mark’s game. He wanted the police to arrest me, remove me from the building, and officially charge me. Once I was in the system as the suspect, the narrative would be set. I took a deep breath. “They are framing me. I didn’t kill anyone.” Mark got in my face. “How dare you lie to the police!” He turned to the officer, putting on his best grieving hero act. “Officer, she sabotaged the lab to hide her incompetence. Dozens are dead. My colleagues…” The crowd surged again. “Arrest her!” “Justice for our families!” “She’s a devil!” The officer looked disturbed. “Is this true? Are there casualties?” “Yes!” Mark shouted. “It’s a massacre! Check the logs! Only she went in!” Chloe chimed in, “Officer, please, just take her. She needs to pay.” The officer reached for his handcuffs. “Ma’am, given the severity of the accusation, we need to bring you in for questioning.” I clenched my fists. “I said, I didn’t hurt anyone.” I turned to the elderly woman who had grabbed me earlier. “Ma’am, your son is David, right? David Liu?” She nodded, tears streaming down her face. I pulled out my phone. “Officer, before you cuff me, let me make one call.” Mark laughed nervously. “Stalling? The virus kills in hours. David is probably already dead or in a coma. He can’t answer!” I tapped the screen. Video call. Ring… Ring… Click. David’s face filled the screen. He was smiling, holding a sandwich. Behind him, people were laughing and walking around. “Hey, Director Sarah! What’s up?” The lobby went silent. “David,” I said calmly. “Where are you right now?” He looked confused. “Uh, we’re at the Annex. You told us the main lab was undergoing maintenance this morning, remember? So the whole night shift crew came over here to do inventory on the mice. We just finished up.” The background was clearly the Annex building—miles away from the “contaminated” lab. 4 David’s mother let out a strangled cry and lunged at my phone. “David?! David, is that you?” “Mom?” David frowned on the screen. “Why are you at the Institute? Why is everyone crying?” “You’re alive… oh thank God, you’re alive!” she sobbed, sliding to her knees. The other families rushed forward. “Is my husband there?” “Is Jessica with you?” “Get my dad on the phone!” A few moments later, a team of Hazmat workers walked out of the “sealed” lab, pulling off their hoods. They looked confused to see the crowd. “What’s going on? We just finished the fumigation. The building is empty.” At the same time, David panned his camera around. Every single “missing” researcher was at the Annex, eating lunch, completely safe. The relief in the lobby was palpable. It washed over the crowd like a wave. Then, the wave receded, leaving something else behind. Anger. The families turned. They wiped their eyes and looked at Mark and Chloe. “You liar!” David’s mother screamed. “You told me my son was dead!” “You said they were trapped!” “You almost made us kill an innocent woman!” The police officer lowered his handcuffs. He looked at Mark, his expression turning icy. “Sir? You said there was a massacre. Making a false report of a bio-terror incident is a federal felony.” Mark was sweating profusely. He backed away, bumping into Chloe. “I… I…” He stammered. “It must have been a mistake. The alarm went off… I thought…” “A mistake?” I stepped forward. “You were pretty sure a minute ago. You said I killed them. You rallied a lynch mob.” I looked at the officer. “I’m pressing charges. Slander, filing a false report, and incitement to violence.” Mark looked trapped. Chloe tried to slink away into the crowd. “Where are you going, Chloe?” I called out. The crowd blocked her path. “Don’t let them leave!” someone shouted.

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It was right after my family went bankrupt. I saw the group chat on my husband’s phone: [She runs a credit check on my location every day, demands I be home by nine—must be home—no alcohol or smoke smell on me, sets a million ridiculous rules. She treats me like a dog on a leash!] [Now that her family’s lost everything, if she tries to control me or boss me around one more time, I’m filing for divorce!] When I didn’t dare to act out, when I stopped controlling him, and stopped giving him orders, my husband actually pinned me down on the bed, looking utterly wronged. “Why aren’t you checking up on me?” “Why aren’t you giving me orders?” “Did you get a different dog?” 1 Damon Hawthorne walked in the door at nine-oh-one. He was about to step inside when I blocked his way, my arms crossed. “Do you know what time it is?” Damon frowned, a familiar flicker of impatience in his eyes, and glanced down at his watch. “Traffic was backed up, Sloane. I’m one minute late. Isn’t that a bit much?” I scoffed. “You dare to be one minute late today, tomorrow you’ll be ten minutes late, and after that, you’ll start sleeping out all night, won’t you?!” He looked speechless, holding back a retort. After a few tense seconds, he sighed and apologized. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Can I please come in now?” My temper flared up fast, but it always settled just as quickly. “Fine. I’ll let it slide this time. But if you’re late again, you can forget about setting foot in this house!” Just then, my dad called. “Sloane, I have some good news and some bad news. Which do you want first?” I rolled my eyes. “Dad, are you serious with the dramatics? Fine. I’ll take the good news.” My father paused, the silence stretching uncomfortably. “Let’s stick to the bad news first. We’re ruined. The company is gone.” I froze, the air knocked out of me. “The good news is we managed to stash a little cash. Your mother, your brother, and I are using it to move overseas. You stay put and build a good life with Damon. He won’t let you down.” “We’ll call you once we’re settled abroad.” And with that, he hung up, leaving me in a state of absolute chaos. Damon emerged from the bathroom, carrying my electric foot spa filled with hot, scented water. He set it down in front of me, knelt, and skillfully removed my socks, easing my feet into the warmth. The soothing heat brought me slowly back to earth. Damon looked up at me, his eyes searching mine. “What is it? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” I looked back at him, the words tasting like ash. “My family is bankrupt.” Damon seemed unfazed, almost calm. “Your dad’s company has been on the ropes for a while. I put some money in to help him, but the hole was too deep. There was no way to save it.” I couldn’t process it. I stood up, pulled my feet out of the water, and walked straight to the bedroom. 2 I couldn’t sleep. I woke up around 3 AM. Damon was next to me, already asleep, his silk eye mask pulled down over his face. But the screen of his phone on the nightstand flashed. I was wide awake now. I quietly picked up the device. I had forced him to set the password to my birthday, a tiny, petty requirement to make sure he never forgot it. I typed in the numbers and opened the messaging app. The notification was from his group chat with his friends. [Our D-Man finally grew a spine!] I frowned and scrolled up, my heart starting to pound. [I’m so furious!] [I was one minute late coming home today, and she locked me out until I apologized!] [Now that her family’s lost everything, if she tries to control me or boss me around one more time, I’m filing for divorce!] His friends chimed in: [Use this opportunity to fix the Princess’s temper, D-Man. Get your old self back. Prove you’re not whipped.] [Our Hawthorne is a big shot outside, a CEO, and then at home, he’s treated like a servant! She’s running his face in the dirt!] [Once D-Man tames his wife, we can finally get back to those all-nighters, drinking until sunrise.] [Agreed.] [Agreed, plus one.] [….] My hand trembled, but I kept scrolling, tracing back months of conversations. [She’s completely out of line! She actually makes me wash her feet! Treats me like I’m a personal valet!] [When she’s on her period, I’m her punching bag! I just shifted on the sofa next to her and she threw a pillow at me, shouting I was distracting her. I move far away and don’t dare to breathe, and she calls me heartless for not caring. I swear, breathing is a mistake now!] [She doesn’t treat me like a person…] I closed his phone, placing it back on the nightstand, unable to catch my breath. So much resentment. Damon hated me this much. He must despise me and desperately want a divorce. I have nothing now. My parents and brother are gone, and their phones are already unreachable. If he leaves me, what will I do? 3 Damon and I were brought together by a corporate merger—an arranged marriage, pure and simple. Damon had a college sweetheart, a fragile little thing. Their relationship was cut short almost immediately by his mother, who paid the girl a million dollars to disappear overseas. After that, he didn’t date seriously until he took over the company and was pressured into marrying me. He seemed deeply reluctant. I assumed he couldn’t get over the one that got away. I didn’t care. Out of all the suitable heirs in The City, Damon was the best option. He was gorgeous, built like a Greek statue, capable in business, and he was clean—no tacky side-pieces, no scandals. We met once before the wedding, then rushed into the marriage and moved in together. He worked constantly and came home late. Very late. It cut into my beauty sleep. And most of the time, he reeked of alcohol. I hate the smell of alcohol. I never tolerate discomfort. So, I laid down the law: He had to be home by 9 PM. And he couldn’t smell like booze or cigarettes. At first, Damon ignored it. He kept coming home late, smelling like a distillery. Furious, I changed the locks on the front door. He knocked for what felt like an hour before I finally opened it, cold as ice. “Try being late again, or let me smell booze on you, and you won’t get back in.” He laughed, but it was a bitter sound. After that, though, he was home every night before nine, clean as a whistle. I began to use him more and more. If I wanted seafood, I only ate the shrimp and crab he’d painstakingly peeled for me. I demanded the foot spa ritual, and he had to bring it to me. The water temperature had to be exactly right; too hot or too cold, and he had to dump it and start over until I approved. When I was in a bad mood during my period, he was the only acceptable target for my fury. My mother had treated my father the exact same way, so I never saw anything wrong with it. But things were different now. Drastically different. I had to change immediately. I couldn’t give Damon any more reasons to despise me. 4 I planned to get up early and make Damon breakfast. But I couldn’t drag myself out of bed. Instead, I woke him up with my groaning. Out of habit, I stretched my foot out. He automatically reached for my sock to put it on. Halfway through, I snapped to attention. Wrong! I couldn’t order him around anymore! I sat bolt upright. I snatched the sock from his hand, forcing a sickly sweet, high-pitched voice. “Honey, I can do it myself.” I’d never called Damon “Honey.” The word left my mouth and made me wince. I wasn’t the only one uncomfortable. A flash of pure bewilderment crossed Damon’s eyes. He stared for a few seconds, then simply got out of bed and left the room. When I finished my bathroom routine and walked into the kitchen, a perfect, gourmet breakfast was waiting on the island. He set a glass of freshly squeezed juice in front of me, then dressed quickly, preparing to leave for the office. Before walking out, he walked toward me, a sour look on his face, intending to kiss me. It was another one of my rules: He had to kiss me before leaving. He always obeyed, but he always looked like he’d just been asked to kiss a toad. Now, I couldn’t force him. I pushed him gently away. “You don’t have to force yourself to kiss me, Honey. Go on, you’re going to be late for work.” He stared at me, his expression clearly saying, Let me guess. What’s the catch this time? I urged him to leave again, and only then did he turn. But just as he reached the front door, he spun around and strode back to me. He reached out, cupped my jaw, and kissed me fiercely, aggressively, until I was breathless. He pulled back, wiping his mouth, a look of utter annoyance on his face. “Can you stop playing these little games?” “Playing coy doesn’t suit you.” ??? I was completely lost. Playing coy? What game was I playing? 5 That evening, Damon called me. “I’m meeting some friends tonight. I’ll be back before nine, though.” I rushed to reassure him. “No, no, you don’t have to! You play for as long as you want. It’s totally fine if you don’t come home!” There was a long silence on the other end, and then he hung up. I was being so understanding. Surely, he didn’t hate me now. I didn’t ask the housekeeper to prepare dinner. Instead, I ordered a huge takeout feast—fried chicken and soda. I usually allowed myself one cheat meal a month to keep my figure. I was settled on the sofa, watching a trashy reality show. I heard footsteps outside the door. I thought it was the delivery guy, so I ran to open the door, barefoot. Damon looked at my bare feet, frowned, picked me up, and placed me back on the sofa. He gave me a look of disdain. “Do you really have to be this excited to see me?” I… I glanced at the time. It was only 8 PM. I was confused. “Why are you home so early?” “I thought you were meeting your friends?” He snorted. “Don’t pretend I couldn’t hear the passive-aggression in your voice on the phone.” “What you meant was, ‘I don’t want you to go.’” I was not being passive-aggressive! He didn’t wait for my explanation. He took off his suit jacket, walked to the kitchen, rolled up his sleeves, and started cooking. As I sat on the sofa, Damon’s phone flashed again. The kitchen was out of sight of the living room. I quietly picked up the phone. The message was, predictably, from his friend group. Damon: [She’s pissed. We’ll have to cancel tonight.] His friends: [She’s still acting like that, even after her family went bankrupt?!] [D-Man, what happened? Can you please show some backbone?] Damon: [This is the last time I indulge her, for old times’ sake. Next time she pulls this, I’m getting a divorce!] His friends: [……] [You better mean it.] I nearly blacked out. Wait, what? I was the one who was pissed? 6 Damon’s birthday party was held at his sprawling estate outside the city. Almost every important figure in The City was there. Halfway through the party, a security guard came in and approached me. “Mrs. Hawthorne, there’s a young woman outside who claims to know Mr. Hawthorne, but she doesn’t have an invitation. Should we let her in?” I thought for a moment, then followed the guard out. I recognized the girl immediately: Lily Stone, Damon’s college sweetheart. Lily saw me and looked up, all wide-eyed fragility. “I just wanted to see him for a minute.” In the past, I would have dismissed her without a second thought. I had my family’s empire backing me, giving me the confidence to stand my ground. But now, that was gone. Damon didn’t love me, and he could divorce me at any moment. I didn’t dare let her in. What if Damon still carried a torch for her? What if they rekindled their old flame? The guard looked at me for instruction. I shook my head, then turned and walked back into the party. After a few glasses of champagne, my head felt foggy, so I went upstairs to the private lounge for a rest. When I came back down, I saw Lily had somehow gotten inside. She was standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, chatting with Damon. 7 They stood by the window, him handsome, her delicate—a perfect, picture-book couple. Lily must have said something funny because a soft, almost tender smile touched Damon’s lips. It was a look I had never seen him direct at me. An invisible hand gripped my heart, squeezing until I couldn’t breathe. I took a deep, steadying breath. Calm down, Sloane. You’re not the spoiled Miss Harrington who can throw tantrums anymore. You have to be sweet, generous, and play the part of the perfect wife. I picked up a glass of red wine and walked toward them, my heels clicking deliberately on the marble floor. “Honey,” I said, my voice sweet to the point of nausea, as I naturally looped my arm through Damon’s. “Is this a friend of yours? Why haven’t you introduced me?” Damon’s body went rigid. The smile vanished instantly, replaced by an expression of shock—like he’d just seen a ghost. He probably didn’t expect this reaction. Lily Stone’s face also shifted, but she quickly reverted to her damsel-in-distress persona. “Mrs. Hawthorne, please don’t misunderstand. I… I just haven’t seen Damon in a long time. I wanted to catch up.” “Catch up?” I smiled brighter. “Perfect! I’ll have someone find you a place to sit so we can chat. But, Honey, you’re the star of the show tonight. You can’t spend the whole night with just one guest; you’ll neglect everyone else.” As I spoke, I used undeniable force to pull Damon away from her. The message of proprietorship couldn’t have been clearer. Damon looked down at me, his eyes as complex as an algebraic equation. There was surprise, curiosity, and a strange hint of… excitement? It must be the alcohol. A delusion. I steered him toward a cluster of business partners and then headed to the buffet area. I had just picked up a plate when I saw Lily walking toward me, a look of contrite apology on her face. “Mrs. Hawthorne, I’m so sorry about earlier. I didn’t know you didn’t like that… I just missed him.” I picked up a petite tiramisu, speaking airily. “It’s fine. Friends catching up is perfectly normal.” “Good,” she sighed with relief. “Actually, Damon and I, in college…” Ah, the classic opening. I saw it coming a mile away. I cut her off. “Miss Stone, this petit four is amazing. You should try it.” She blinked, clearly thrown off by my refusal to engage. “Mrs. Haw—I mean, Sloane, I…” “Oh, dear!” My hand suddenly “slipped.” The entire glass of red wine flew out of my grasp and landed squarely on her pristine, white cocktail dress. The crimson liquid bloomed rapidly on the white fabric, looking like a grotesque, beautiful wound. “I am so sorry, Miss Stone,” I gasped, wide-eyed and innocent. “I must have had one too many. My hand just gave out.” Lily’s face turned green, but with so many prominent guests around, she had to grit her teeth and say, “It’s… it’s fine.” “How can it be fine? Such a gorgeous dress, and I ruined it.” I pulled out a napkin, attempting to “help,” only succeeding in smearing the wine deeper into the fabric. Damon heard the commotion and strode over. He saw Lily’s ruined dress and his brow furrowed fiercely. Lily’s eyes welled up instantly. She looked at him, the silent message clear: See? She’s bullying me. My heart tightened. Was he going to defend her? If he dared to humiliate me in front of all these people, I would… I would cry until he regretted it! Instead, Damon simply grabbed my wrist, pulled me aside, and lowered his voice. It was a strange mix of anger and amusement. “Did you do that on purpose?” “Honey, what are you talking about?” I immediately switched to my most fragile, wounded voice, leaning against him. “My head is spinning. I think I really did drink too much…” He looked down at me, his expression a complicated mix of exasperation and a flicker of… endearment? I was definitely too drunk. He sighed, completely ignoring the petrified Lily Stone, and half-carried, half-guided me upstairs. “Are you done with your little scene? I’m taking you to rest.” As we passed his cluster of friends, I clearly heard their sharp intakes of breath. [Holy crap, D-Man just got tamed by his wife? The ex is right there!] [This isn’t fixing her temper; this is throwing his own face on the floor for her to stomp on!] He took me into the lounge and dropped me onto the plush king-sized bed. “Sloane Harrington, what is your endgame here?” He stood over me, his expression thunderous. I decided to double down on my “sweet and weary wife” act. “My endgame? Nothing. I’m tired. I want to sleep.” I rolled over, presenting my back to him, letting my hair convey my innocence. The room was silent for a long time. I could feel his eyes on my back, tracing me like a searchlight. The old me would have leaped up, yelling at him for taking the other woman’s side. But my silence was a new, unexpected weapon. Slam! The door was forcefully shut. He was gone. Good. He was angry. But somehow, not that angry. I slowly climbed off the bed and tiptoed to the door, pressing my ear against the wood. Silence. I pulled out my phone. I hesitated, then unlocked the one in my hand. I had “accidentally” slipped Damon’s phone from his suit pocket when he was carrying me upstairs. I truly was a genius. The group chat was, predictably, on fire. Brother A: [D-Man, what the hell? The ex shows up, and your wife doesn’t make a scene? She just… let it go?] Brother B: [Let it go? Did you not see the red wine “mishap,” bro? That was surgical. High-level play!] Damon: [She’s changed.] Three words. I could practically see him scowling as he typed them. Brother C: [Changed for the better? Maybe she realized she needs to dial it back.] Damon: [Better my ass! She threw wine on Lily, but she won’t admit it, and she won’t fight me. She never used to do that.] Damon: [When she used to get mad, at least I knew she cared. Now, she’s quiet and compliant, and I have no idea what’s going on.] Damon: [She doesn’t love me, does she? She only married me for the merger, and now that my family is bankrupt, she’s planning to leave me. She’s being nice now so we can have a clean break!] I squinted at the screen. “???” My brain froze for three seconds. What kind of absurd, twisted logic was this man operating on? I was scrambling to save our marriage, and he thought I was preparing for divorce? What in the actual hell was going on?!

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The day before Ivy League admission decisions were released, every boy in our senior class decided to take a “ritual dip” in the town’s old Holy Spring. They wanted to pray for the “Prom Queen,” Chloe. I watched them as they started stripping off their clothes, ready to dive into the murky water. I hesitated, then spoke up. “I heard locals have been releasing copperheads and rattlesnakes into the springs lately. Maybe don’t jump in.” My boyfriend, Tyler, snapped at me instantly. “Maya, you already got your early admission to Harvard. Are you really that insecure that you have to sabotage our prayer for Chloe? This is pathetic. I should report you to the board; maybe they’ll revoke your admission for being such a toxic person.” Hearing that, I was ready to just walk away. But then I saw Tyler pull out a mesh bag, ready to “release” some animals for extra luck. My heart stopped. “Those are Pit Vipers! They are extremely venomous and aggressive. Do not open that bag!” Chloe stepped in, smiling sweetly, insisting they were just harmless water snakes she bought from a local “collector.” I called the Principal immediately. Luckily, a group of parents arrived just in time to stop them. They confirmed the snakes were deadly. The guys in class actually thanked me then. “If it wasn’t for you, Maya, Chloe would have gotten us all killed.” When the results came out, Chloe didn’t get into a single university. She ended up at a bottom-tier community college. She left a suicide note—which was actually a manifesto—blaming me for ruining her “blessing ritual,” claiming that’s why she failed. Then, she ran away from home. That same night, my bedroom was crawling with Vipers. As I was bitten to death, I heard Tyler’s voice from the hallway. “If this bitch hadn’t interfered, Chloe would be at Yale right now!” When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the spring. Back to the day they were all “praying” for Chloe. This time, I’m going to stand back and watch them die. 1 “Maya, you’re already set for Harvard. Why are you trying to stop us from helping Chloe? Are you really that jealous?” “I know your grandma got scammed by some ‘spiritual healer’ for fifty grand back in the day, but she was senile. We aren’t.” Tyler’s gaze was filled with pure disgust. Standing before the stagnant, muddy pond with the whole class, I realized I had been reborn. The phantom pain of a thousand fangs filled my mind. I forced a smile and stepped back. “I was just saying some springs have snakes. But since Chloe found this place herself, I’m sure it’s perfectly safe.” Tyler looked satisfied. “It’s time. Let’s do the release first,” Chloe said, pulling out a heavy crate. The moment she pulled back the tarp, I saw dozens of cold, slit-pupil eyes staring back. My skin crawled. In my past life, I stopped this. I saved them. And they repaid me by filling my house with venom. My parents died in their sleep. My entire neighborhood became a death trap. And Chloe? She went viral. She posted videos saying, “Maya stopped the ritual, so the snakes followed her home. Karma is real. Stay blessed.” She became a “spiritual influencer” on the back of my family’s corpses. “Maya, don’t just stand there. Help us,” Tyler barked. I looked at them—my “boyfriend” and the snakes. I felt a surge of cold fury. “I’m actually terrified of snakes,” I said, backing away toward the road. “I’ll stay up here and record the ‘miracle’ for you guys. Good luck with the blessing.” Go ahead. Feed the vipers. 2 Chloe grabbed my arm. “Maya, I know I’m not a genius like you. I don’t deserve your help.” “But first you claim there are vipers, and now you’re ‘scared’? You’re just trying to imply I’m lying to everyone. I would never hurt my friends!” She started to sob. “Just go. Everyone, just go. I don’t deserve the luck. I’ll just accept that I’m a failure.” Before I could blink, Tyler slapped me across the face. “It’s just a few snakes, you coward!” “You’re just trying to bully Chloe!” He grabbed my wrist, dragging me toward the crate. I was shaking. “I’ll stay! I’ll record! Just let me go!” “Look at how pathetic you are,” Tyler sneered, throwing me to the ground. The other guys laughed. “Being a nerd doesn’t make you part of the team, Maya.” “Ugly girls are always jealous of girls like Chloe. If she messes with Chloe again, let’s just toss her into the water with the snakes.” I promised I wouldn’t leave. I held up my phone. Tyler laughed. “The ‘snake bath’ is supposed to be life-changing. If Chloe wasn’t on her period, she’d be in there with us.” The boys roared with laughter. “Stop it, you guys are embarrassing me,” Chloe giggled. “Release them!” The moment Tyler opened the crate, the snakes slid into the dark, murky water like oil. 3 Tyler stripped down and waded in. After just two steps, he let out a sharp gasp. His face contorted, his muscles twitching. Chloe laughed from the bank. “Tyler! Is it working already? Is a snake wrapping around your… you know?” The other guys got excited. “Damn, that’s intense!” “Don’t tell me you can’t handle it, Tyler!” Tyler looked like he was in agony. But he gritted his teeth, his ego refusing to let him back out. “I’m fine! Get in here! Let’s see who can stay in the longest!” I watched them all pile into the water. I smiled. Let’s see who dies first. Soon, every boy in the water had a look of sheer pain on his face. But they were all “Alpha males”—no one wanted to be the first to scream. The water was too muddy to see the blood. Tyler, the first one in, whispered, “Why does it feel so… swollen?” Chloe smirked. “I heard that in these springs, the ‘energy’ makes men more well-endowed. Maybe you should check for yourselves.” They actually fell for it. They started checking themselves under the water, their faces lighting up with a sick kind of pride. 4 Swelling. That’s the first symptom of a Pit Viper bite. The second is tissue necrosis. Their “manhood” was literally rotting while they smiled. “What are you doing?!” a voice screamed from behind me. It was Mr. Henderson, our homeroom teacher. Tyler waved lazily from the pond. “Just getting a blessing, sir.” Mr. Henderson’s face went white. “Are you insane? Look at the water! Those are Pit Vipers!” “They are highly aggressive and lethal! Get out! Now!” The boys froze. Chloe tried to intervene. “Mr. Henderson, you’re mistaken. These are harmless water snakes. I bought them myself.” The second she finished her sentence, a scream shattered the air. A snake had breached the surface and latched onto Tyler’s face. Chaos erupted. The water turned into a thrashing mess of limbs and scales. As they scrambled for the shore, I saw it. Snakes were dangling from them—latched onto their legs, their arms, and yes, their “swollen” manhoods.

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After rocking the world of the Julian Thorne—heir to the Thorne empire—for one wild, unforgettable night, the System gave me a notification: Time to skedaddle. His “destined” Female Lead was coming online. I fled the hospital that very night, but I didn’t leave empty-handed. I stole something of his. Four years later. My daughter got into a fight at kindergarten. The teacher called both parents. I rushed over, only to find a terrifyingly familiar man crouching in front of my child, begging for an answer. “Tell me, little one… what is your mommy’s name?” 1 “Hailey!” The man froze. “What? Not Harper?” The little girl wrinkled her nose. “Mister, you might be handsome, but you can’t just go around changing my mommy’s name.” “Impossible… absolutely impossible…” The man, usually so composed and commanding, shook his head in disbelief. He dropped to one knee, reaching out as if to hug this miniature version of himself. But when the girl stepped back in fear, his hand dropped to his side, defeated. “Little one, how old are you?” She pouted. “Mommy said I can’t talk to strangers.” “Strangers…” The man sucked in a sharp breath, the blood draining from his handsome face. The teacher standing nearby was totally lost. Here’s the tea: during playtime this afternoon, the best-behaved girl in class got into a brawl with the class bully. The bully, despite his size, got absolutely wrecked by my little girl. The bully’s dad? The CEO of Thorne Corp. Rumor had it Julian Thorne spoiled his wife and son rotten. The Thorne family treated that boy like a golden egg. Meanwhile, my daughter comes from a single-parent home. Just me and her against the world. We were supposed to be toast. Sure enough, Julian Thorne stormed in with an entourage. But when he realized the other parent was late, just as he was about to explode, he caught a glimpse of the little girl standing in time-out. His face changed instantly. He ignored his own son—who was stomping his feet and crying “Dad! Daddy! Dad!”—and started grilling my daughter. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was the one who got called in for her. 2 I was hiding outside the door, my heart hammering against my ribs like a drum solo. I couldn’t go in, couldn’t run away. [System! We have a Code Red! Where are you? You said we wouldn’t cross paths again!] My palms were sweating against the door handle. I watched through the crack. My daughter was still in there. I had to go in. Even though the System had tweaked my appearance a bit, if Julian recognized me, the game was over. He’d find out about Lily. Would he try to take her from me? While I was hesitating, a cheerful voice piped up behind me. “Lily’s mom? Why are you standing out here?” “Don’t worry, we’re just here to resolve a little conflict.” A teacher I recognized reached past me and threw the door open. 3 I stumbled into the office under the gaze of everyone in the room. My daughter stood ramrod straight, her little face tense with stubbornness. But the second she saw me, the tears fell. She threw herself into my arms. “Mommy!” Her tears soaked my shirt. My heart shattered. I held her tight. She was such a tough cookie. She’d held it together all this time, refusing to cry in front of them. But seeing me broke the dam. I patted her back gently, whispering comforts while fishing a couple of gummy bears out of my pocket. A sharp, predatory gaze had locked onto me the moment I entered. Now, it felt like a physical weight on my shoulder. Suffocating. I didn’t look at the man. I turned to the teacher. “He started it!” the bully yelled. “We were playing House. I wanted to be the Daddy, but she said she didn’t need one! She said her house is fine with just a Mommy!” “How can she not need a Daddy? She didn’t pop out of a rock!” My voice went cold. “And? What else?” I didn’t believe my daughter would throw hands over just that. She’s heard “no dad” taunts before. If she hit people every time she heard that, she’d be a UFC champion by now. The bully went quiet, glancing at his father. Julian stood there, eyes icy. “What else did you say?” he asked his son. “I said… everyone has a dad. My mommy said only bad kids get thrown away by their dads.” The room went silent. Kids can be so cruel in their innocence. I took a deep breath, fighting the urge to punt a child across the room. I turned my daughter around and checked her for injuries. Then I walked up to the bully. “Did you scratch her neck?” The kid was spoiled, but faced with an angry adult, he panicked. He tugged his dad’s pant leg. No reaction. Tears welled up. I ignored his father completely. “Apologize to Lily. Now.” The bully glared at me. “No!” He shoved me and tried to run. I grabbed him by the collar, lifting him like a chicken. “Your dad won’t teach you?” I glanced at the gloomy man beside me. “Fine. I will.” The teacher looked ready to intervene, but Julian stopped her with a look. Teacher: ??? “Let me go! Do you know who my mom is?!” The brat kicked his legs. “I don’t care who your mom is. Apologize, or we stay here all night.” Suddenly, a flash of pink rushed into my vision. The weight in my hand vanished. Slap! A stinging pain exploded across my cheek. A petite, well-dressed woman snatched the boy, hugged him, and screamed at the teacher. “You were just going to watch this crazy woman assault my son? I’m suing this school!” She glared at me, then tugged Julian’s sleeve. “Hubby, call the police!” My face burned. I felt a trickle of blood—her diamond nail art had cut me. Lily saw the blood and started wailing, hugging my leg. “Mommy, I’m sorry! I apologize! I’m sorry!” My heart twisted. I looked at the family of three opposite me. I’d never met her, but I knew exactly who she was. Gemma. The Female Lead. 4 In the car. Silence. I took Lily to McDonald’s. She just sat there, picking at the placemat. Her silence hurt more than the scratch on my face. The principal had stepped in to de-escalate things. Gemma left threatening to sue everyone. Julian just stared at Lily. I shielded her from his gaze. For four years, I raised her alone, surviving on the System’s mission rewards. I never figured out how to explain the “missing father” part. Today, it blew up in my face. I thought about the bully—Jett. Strong, loud, fearless. A kid raised in a honey pot. And he was the same age as Lily… So, I left, and the Female Lead stepped right in. She conquered the heart I spent three years trying to warm up. Did he fall for her at first sight, too? “Mommy…” A soft voice broke my trance. A strawberry shake was pushed toward me. “Mommy, you drink it.” Lily’s eyes were red, her face stubborn but cute. “I thought you wanted this?” I asked. I usually limited her sugar, so this was a rare treat. “I want Mommy to be happy.” She muttered, “I was wrong today.” “What did you do wrong?” “I didn’t beat Jett fast enough.” She clenched a tiny fist. “Next time, I won’t lose!” I laughed through my tears and ruffled her hair. “Mommy was wrong too. I shouldn’t have asked for an apology. I should have just spanked him!” The image of Jett flying through the air made Lily giggle. We shared a Happy Meal and planned our next playground strategy. We didn’t notice the luxury car parked across the street. Or that it followed us all the way home.

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I was the slow one. The one who never quite caught up. The day my sister came to pick me up from school, she was dragged into an alley, brutalized, and murdered. I was the only witness. Mom and Dad gripped my neck, their eyes red and blazing. “Tell us! You saw him, didn’t you? Say it out loud!” I opened my mouth, but the sound was trapped behind my teeth. In a fit of rage, they threw me out of the house. Unable to care for myself, I ended up on the streets—begging, scavenging for garbage, sleeping under the city bridges. Until the day a man in a black suit found me. He said he was my sister’s fiancé. Dean. He crouched down, looking straight into my eyes, his voice barely a whisper: “I can take you to a place where we can replay the moment you saw that day.” “But the cost is your life.” My grimy hand clenched the stained fabric of my sleeve. I nodded hard. “I’ll do it.” What was there to fear about death? I was afraid of forgetting… forgetting whose face my sister saw last. 1 The light of the high-powered broadcast lamps was blinding, aimed directly at my face as I lay on the Memory Retrieval Stand. The auditorium below was packed. Cameras, like dull black eyes, stared at me. They said this entire process was being live-streamed to the world. Dean, the man who called himself my sister’s love, stood beside me, his expression unreadable. “It’s not too late to back out.” I shook my head. Just then, a commotion erupted at the entrance. I looked up and saw Mom and Dad rushing in. The moment Mom saw me, tears streamed down her face, but the words that followed were like shards of glass: “You heartless thing! Your sister was so good to you, buying you candy, picking you up from school… and she died such a horrific death…” “You clearly saw the killer, so why didn’t you speak up?!” Dad’s eyes were bloodshot, his voice hoarse: “We raised you for this long. Even if you were slow, we never once resented you!” “But you? Is this how you repay your sister?” A wave of hushed chatter swept through the audience. The cameras swiveled toward my parents. Mom was crying so hard she could barely stand: “You were always jealous of your sister, weren’t you?” “Jealous because she was smart, because she was beautiful, because everyone loved her…” “But did you know, she never once looked down on you, her slow little sister!” “She didn’t even have to pick you up that day! She did it because she worried about you, worried the other kids would pick on you…” Mom’s voice rose to a shriek: “She died because of you! Do you even realize that?!” I stared blankly at their hysterical faces, and my eyes slowly filled with tears. So… they really did hate me that much. In everyone’s eyes, I was the reason Soph died. Dean’s hand pressed lightly on my shoulder. He murmured, “Your sister… she wouldn’t blame you.” I turned my head and looked at him, asking softly, “If I go through with the Memory Retrieval, the person who hurt my sister will be caught, won’t they?” Dean was silent for a moment, then nodded: “Yes. Live, globally broadcast evidence. Everyone will see the truth of that day.” “Then let’s start.” Dean looked at me again. “But it’s going to hurt a lot.” He gestured to the center of the stand, where a long, thick silver probe stood upright. “See that needle? It’s going to pierce your skull and enter your cerebral cortex to read your memory.” “The deeper the memory, the deeper it goes.” “You need to pull the very deepest layers—the scene of the crime. So… it will go very, very deep.” I froze for two seconds, then my gaze drifted back to my parents, still crying and cursing below the stage. Then I smiled faintly. “I’m not afraid of pain.” Dean’s brow furrowed. “If catching the killer is the only way to help my sister,” “And if it means Mom and Dad can forgive me… I don’t care how much it hurts.” Dean was silent for a long time. Finally, he looked at the doctor in the white coat and nodded: “Proceed.” The doctor stepped forward, his eyes sweeping over me before turning to Dean: “Mr. Dean, once the Memory Retrieval process begins, it cannot be stopped.” “The neural extraction is irreversible. Upon completion, the patient will suffer catastrophic brain damage resulting in brain death.” He paused. “Should we inform the patient’s family of the risks beforehand?” I spoke immediately: “No! Don’t!” My voice was quiet, yet firm and absolute. Everyone looked at me. I met Dean’s gaze, my eyes unwavering: “Please don’t tell them yet… okay?” Below the stage, Mom was still weeping; Dad’s face was dark with anger, staring up at the platform. Dean’s Adam’s apple bobbed once. “…All right.” Two nurses approached, helping me lie down on the cold metal stand. My body was secured with restraints—at the wrists, ankles, and across the chest and abdomen. Finally, a metal halo was clamped around my forehead. A nurse approached with a syringe, injecting a cold liquid into my vein. The world began to blur. Above me, the long silver probe slowly descended, its needle-tip perfectly aligned with the center of my forehead. The next moment, Mom’s horrified voice suddenly cut through the air: “Stop, hold on!” 2 My eyes snapped open, a flicker of hope igniting in my chest. Mom, was she worried about me? The very next second, her cold voice returned: “Doctor, please make absolutely certain that you retrieve the events of that day.” “If it means getting the truth, you don’t need to worry about her body.” Dad chimed in: “That’s right, money is no object. We’ll pay extra if you guarantee you can catch the killer who murdered Soph!” A sharp, stabbing pain twisted in my heart, and tears spilled out, uncontrollable. After hearing their words, Dean’s gaze darkened, a flash of pity crossing his eyes. The retrieval continued. The silver probe pierced my forehead and entered my skull. The drilling pain was excruciating; my entire body convulsed. I bit down hard on my teeth. I could feel warm blood trickling out, seeping into my ears, matting my hair. The first memory appeared on the main screen. The image shook violently, like a scene viewed through tears. A gray sky, black funeral streamers, and Soph’s portrait displayed in the center of the wake. I was kneeling on the floor. The room was full of people, everyone dressed in black. Mom was draped over Soph’s casket, her sobs tearing through the air. Dad stood beside her, his eyes swollen, his body shaking uncontrollably. Suddenly, Mom spun around and rushed towards me, clutching my shoulders until her fingers dug deep into my flesh: “Lucy, tell me! What happened that day?” “You saw it, didn’t you? Tell Mommy, who killed your sister…” Her fingernails nearly punctured my skin. Her voice was sharp and grating: “Say it! Just tell us!” I looked up, tears streaming down my face. “I’m sorry… I really can’t remember…” Mom’s voice spiked: “How can you not remember?! Your sister died right in front of you!” She suddenly grabbed my hair and slammed my head down onto the floor. “Thud!” My forehead hit the tile hard. “Bow to your sister! Apologize to her!” Another blow. “We’ve been so good to you, how can you do this to your sister?!” “Thud!” A spot of bright red blood stained the tile. “How could you forget? How could you forget!” In the image, my forehead was a bloody mess, my eyes wide, the pupils reflecting my sister’s funeral photo. Blood flowed down my temples, mixing with tears, dripping onto the floor. I didn’t struggle. I just let Mom force my head down, bowing it to the ground, over and over. Everyone in the room watched. No one stepped in to stop her. I knelt at my sister’s wake for an entire day and night. The day after Soph’s burial, Mom tossed a large, bundled sack at my feet. “Lucy,” she pointed toward the door, “Get out!” “When you remember what happened that day, then you can come back.” “If you never remember, never come home.” “I don’t have a daughter like you.” I froze, staring numbly at the sack, then looking up at Mom. “Mom…” “Don’t call me Mom!” she screamed, “I don’t have a daughter like you!” Dad walked over, silently grabbed my arm, and dragged me toward the exit. I finally registered what was happening and cried out, latching onto Mom’s leg: “Mom, I’m sorry… I’ll try to remember…” “Please don’t send me away… Mom…” “I’m scared…” Dad pried my fingers off her leg, one by one. He was so strong; my fingers ached with the force. The front door opened. I was shoved outside. The sack landed at my feet. “Slam—” The heavy door shut in my face. I knelt on the ground, pounding hard on the wood: “Mom… Dad…” “I’m sorry… I’m really sorry…” There was no response from inside. After a very long time, exhausted from crying, I picked up the sack. Dragging my bleeding forehead, I stumbled down the stairs, one step at a time. As I walked out of the apartment building, I looked back at the fourth-floor window. The curtains were tightly drawn. The screen went dark. The auditorium was utterly silent. Suddenly, Dad’s furious voice exploded: “What is this?! This is not what we came here to see!!” Mom shrieked as well: “We need the truth about Soph’s murder!! What happened in that alley?!” “Continue! Keep going deeper!” A murmur of discussion arose in the audience. Dean looked at the screen, then at me, lying pale and still on the stand, his lips moving wordlessly. The doctor sighed, his voice echoing over the microphone: “First layer of memory extraction complete. As the memory deepens, the pain the patient experiences will continually escalate.” “The nervous system is undergoing extreme stress, which may lead to extraction interruption or…” His sentence was cut short by Dad: “Continue. Any price is acceptable as long as the killer is caught.” Mom covered her face, weeping: “We just want the truth!” 3 The doctor looked at Dean. Dean stood silent for a long time, his knuckles white where he gripped the railing. “…Continue.” The doctor operated the control panel. The silver probe, once again, began to drill slowly toward the deeper layers. “Agh—!!!” I couldn’t stop the scream that ripped from my throat. My mind felt like a red-hot iron rod was being plunged in and twisted. My whole body began to convulse violently. Sweat instantly soaked my thin clothes; veins bulged on my forehead. The screen lit up again. This time, the image showed me cornered by a group of boys. “Look, it’s Lucy the slowpoke!” “Hey, little dummy, playing in the dirt again?” As they spoke, they picked up small pebbles and trash from the ground and tossed them at me. I looked up, staring at them blankly. “Look at her, she can’t even cry! Definitely a dummy!” “Let’s bury her in the sand pit?” “Yeah!” Amidst the jeering, a dirty hand suddenly grabbed my arm and yanked hard. I lost my balance and tumbled into the deep sandbox. “Bury her!” “Yeah! Bury the dummy!” Several pairs of hands held me down amidst the excited shouts. Heavy sand began to pour onto my head and body. It was heavy, pressing the air out of my lungs. The sand rose past my waist, moving up toward my chest. I was going to be buried alive. I couldn’t move, and I couldn’t scream. Just as the sand was about to cover my shoulders— “What are you doing?! Get away from my sister!!” A clear voice rang out. It was Soph! Soph, with her high ponytail, stood by the edge of the pit, hands on her hips. The sunlight hit her just right; she seemed to glow. “You’re bullying my sister?” Soph’s voice was fierce. “Want me to tell the principal?” The boys hesitated for a moment and let go of me. “Sophia, your sister is a dummy anyway…” “Say that again?” Soph took a step forward, her eyes wide and round. “My sister is not a dummy! She just… she just processes things a little slower!” “She’s kinder than all of you put together!” Intimidated by her presence, the boys mumbled excuses and ran away. Soph rushed over, clawed the sand away, and pulled me up. Her eyes were full of worry: “Luce, are you okay? Are you hurt?” I shook my head, but tears started to fall anyway. “Don’t cry, don’t cry.” Soph pulled me into a hug, gently patting my back. “It’s okay, Luce, Soph is here.” “If anyone bullies you again, you tell me right away.” “I’ll protect you, okay?” In the memory, I buried my head in Soph’s shoulder, sobbing softly. Soph smelled like clean soap. Her hands were so warm. Below the stage. Mom was slumped in her chair, weeping. “Soph… my Soph was always so good…” “She was kind to everyone… especially her slow little sister…” Dad’s eyes were also red, his voice choked with emotion: “Soph was responsible from a young age, always looking out for her sister…” Dean stared at the screen, his eyes fixed, filled with a deep, aching remembrance of his fiancée. The next second, Mom suddenly turned, glaring at me on the platform, her voice cracking: “Lucy! Look! Look how good your sister was to you!” “How could you… how could you forget how she died?!” Dad pointed at me, his face ravaged with grief and anger: “Lucy, what happened that day? Your sister loved you so much, why won’t you just say it?!” “Did you really see something… that you’re refusing to tell us?” I lay on the Retrieval Stand, listening to their demands. Tears slid down my temples. I want to say it, too. Mom and Dad. I want to know what happened that day. I want to know who killed Soph. But I… I really can’t remember. Deep inside my brain, a sharp, sudden pain erupted. The silver probe began to release electrical currents. “Mmph…” I arched violently, and a mouthful of blood sprayed from my throat. 4 “Blood pressure plummeting! Massive neural shock!” The doctor’s alarmed cries were drowned out by my parents’ increasingly frantic screams: “Don’t worry about that! The picture! We need the scene from the alley! Continue! Go on!” Dean suddenly lunged forward, slamming his fist onto the edge of the control console: “I want the truth just as much as you, but can’t you see she’s dying?!” “I don’t care!” Mom’s eyes were scarlet. “She owes this to Soph! Her life’s only purpose now is this moment!” The red haze in my vision intensified, but the pain made my hearing unnaturally sharp. Amidst the chaos, the probe in my brain twisted violently again. “Agh—!” A new wave of agonizing pain exploded. The screen flickered violently, then lit up with a blinding white flash. This time, the scene was from the days after my parents threw me out. I was cornered in an abandoned construction site by a few trashy young men. There were broken bricks on the ground, and the air was thick with dust. “Hey, little dummy, heard your folks ditched you?” The leader, a skinny guy with yellow hair, poked my shoulder with a stick. “Guess if we rough you up, nobody cares, huh?” I pressed myself against the damp wall, shaking, but clutching a sharp piece of broken brick in my hand. “Got a nasty glare, don’t you?” Another one stepped up and slapped me across the face. The sting was immediate and searing. But clearer than the pain were the fragments of my parents’ whispered words echoing in my mind— “She needs to suffer a little, then she’ll be afraid, then she’ll try harder to remember…” “Soph can’t have died in vain… this is to force her…” The memory clips flashed back. Mom secretly slipping cash to the thugs in the alley; Dad whispering into the phone, “Give her a good scare, make her taste a little hardship.” So, the people who had stolen my food, slammed me to the ground, and even tried to tear my clothes off… They had all been arranged by Mom and Dad. My heart shattered completely at that moment. “Agh—!” I suddenly let out a scream, clutching the jagged brick, and lunged wildly at the men. They seemed stunned by my unexpected resistance. They wrestled me to the ground and started smashing rocks onto my head. The screen image shook violently, mixed with crude curses and the sounds of impacts. Not until I was covered in blood, lying motionless on the ground, did the thugs curse and walk away. My vision slowly blurred. A pair of polished leather shoes stopped right in front of my sight line. It was Dean. He looked down at me, his eyes complex and hard to read. “Lucy, do you want revenge for your sister?” I opened my mouth, but only bloody foam came out. “I know a way to pull the images you saw that day… out of your mind.” He paused. “But the process is incredibly painful. And, you will…” Before Dean could finish, the screen image switched again. Finally, it was the scene in the alley that day. I had my backpack on. Soph was standing across the street, waving and smiling at me. She was wearing a new dress today; she looked beautiful. My eyes lit up, and I started to run across. Just as I stepped onto the crosswalk and reached my sister’s side— A tall figure, wearing a black mask and a baseball cap, lunged out of the side alley like a phantom. He clapped a hand over Soph’s mouth and brutally dragged her into the dark, narrow side street. Soph’s startled cry was muffled. Her eyes were wide with terror as she desperately kicked her legs. I was stunned, instinctively rushing forward, trying to grab her hand. The attacker didn’t even look back. He just swung his leg and delivered a vicious kick to my stomach. “Thwack!” I flew backward, my head slamming hard against the sidewalk. A blinding pain and vertigo instantly overwhelmed me, and warm liquid began to spread from the back of my skull. My vision began to swim and blur. No sound could escape my throat. But I fought to keep my eyes wide open, staring into the depths of the alley. In the dim light, Soph was pinned to the ground. She struggled wildly, her fingers grasping uselessly at the air. The attacker seemed enraged by her resistance. He suddenly raised his hand— In that fraction of a second, Soph lunged upward and grabbed— “Rrrrip—” The black mask was ripped clean off his face! The faint light from the alley streetlamp illuminated the face that was suddenly exposed.

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