Category: English

My mom got pregnant with a little brother. When we went to the hospital for a checkup, we found out he had Jacobs Syndrome. Everyone told my mom to terminate the pregnancy. My mom cried and refused to give him up. I asked her what Jacobs Syndrome meant. She told me, “It means your brother is going to be the manliest of men. He’s going to protect you.” I half-understood, until the year my brother turned seven, and he repeatedly smashed a brick into my mother’s head. I think I finally understood what she meant by “the manliest of men.” 1 When I was six years old, my mom got pregnant. Once she was far enough along, my parents secretly paid someone to find out the gender. When my mom heard it was a boy, she was overjoyed. Even though my dad always said having me, his sweet little girl, was enough, having a son had always been my mom’s ultimate wish. Until the amniocentesis results came back, and everything changed. They said my unborn brother had an XYY chromosome pattern. The legendary “Super Male Syndrome.” I was eavesdropping outside the door. My dad was desperately trying to convince my mom to give it up. “Let it go. Having Lily is enough for us! The doctor even said kids like this have strong antisocial tendencies in the future. We can’t raise a child like that.” Tears streamed down my mom’s face. She shook her head, clutching her stomach. “No, I can’t bear it. Look how big the baby already is. Are you really going to end your child’s life over one thing a doctor said?” My dad hesitated, his brows furrowed tightly. My mom said firmly, “Didn’t we raise Lily perfectly? I believe this child will be fine too. As long as we educate him properly…” My dad was so frustrated he was left speechless. He went to the balcony to smoke alone, leaving my mom crying with red eyes. I crept closer and asked, “Mommy, what does Super Male mean?” My mom looked at me sadly, thought for a moment, and said, “It means your brother is going to be the manliest of men. He’s going to protect his big sister.” I hesitated. “Will you only love my brother and not love me anymore?” My mom stroked my head. “How could that happen? Mommy loves you the most.” I smiled. A few months later, my brother was born. Everyone who saw him praised how beautiful he was. Big eyes, pale skin—he looked like an angel baby from a painting. Whenever someone complimented him, my mom swelled with pride. She’d say, How could such an adorable baby ever be violent? She vowed to spend her entire life loving him. Wrapped in my mom’s protective love, my brother slowly grew. He started babbling in a cute baby voice and began to express his emotions. It’s just that his way of expressing emotions was a little different from other kids. If he didn’t like the carefully prepared baby food, he would just smack the bowl onto the floor. If his toy car ran out of battery and stopped moving, he would fly into a rage, violently stomping and smashing the car against the floor. He was only happy once the toy was completely pulverized. He had an extreme desire to destroy. Toys in our house never survived past the second day. When he ran out of toys to destroy, he’d move on to other things. It was as if destroying things brought him infinite joy. No matter how my dad tried to discipline him, it was useless. My mom, however, stuck to positive reinforcement. “Good job, sweetie! Our baby is so strong!” I felt wronged. I went to complain to my mom. “Why do you hit me when I break something, but you never hit my brother?” My mom sighed. “Your brother is different. We have to guide him gently. Lily, you’re the older sister, you need to be understanding.” I didn’t understand. It was blatant favoritism. 2 To cultivate a gentler temperament in my brother, my mom bought each of us a pet rabbit. She smiled warmly. “You have to treat the bunnies well, okay? They are living things too.” My brother stroked the bunny’s ears, nodding as if he couldn’t put it down. But the next morning, when my mom went to change the cabbage leaves in the cages, she let out a bloodcurdling scream. I rushed onto the balcony. The bunny my brother was taking care of had been sliced open and killed. Its intestines had spilled out all over the bottom of the cage. Meanwhile, the bunny in my cage had its ears pinned back, trembling violently in the corner. My brother stood behind my mom with a huge smile, holding his arms up to be carried. “Mommy, I want another bunny!” I hugged my bunny tightly to my chest, shivering. Ever since my brother was born, all my parents’ energy had gone to him. Even my grandma came all the way from out of town specifically to help take care of him. He became the center of our entire family’s universe. I had to admit, most of the time he didn’t look any different from other little boys. He had a sweet smile, liked eating snacks, and loved watching cartoons. But this bright, cheerful boy could turn into a demon the very next second. Once, my grandma simply told him he couldn’t have a snack before dinner. He bit down hard on her arm and refused to let go, exactly like a wild jackal. No matter who tried to pull him off, his jaws stayed locked. Another time, I was just sitting there watching cartoons. As my mom carried him to the balcony, he casually grabbed the TV remote and hurled it straight at my head. Blood streamed down my face, and he smiled with pure delight. When he finally reached preschool age, my parents spent a ton of energy and money to enroll him in a daycare that specialized in early childhood mental health and development. But not long after, the teachers called my parents in. The reason: an older kid in the pre-K class had bullied him, making fun of him for being skinny and small. I don’t know where he learned it, but during nap time, while the teacher stepped out to use the restroom, he sneaked into the pre-K nap room, used a lighter to set the bedsheets on fire, sprinted out, and locked the door from the outside. If the teacher hadn’t come back when she did, the consequences would have been catastrophic. Even the teachers were horrified. “Does your child watch violent cartoons at home? I’ve never seen a kid act like this! It’s terrifying!” Under pressure from the other parents, my brother was expelled. My parents bowed, apologized endlessly, and paid a massive settlement just to make it go away. As my parents were bowing and apologizing, my brother stood to the side, biting his fingernails, giggling. The teacher asked him what was so funny. He said, “I wanted to burn you all to death!” My dad’s face went ghost white. He slapped my brother across the face right in front of everyone. My brother fell to the ground. He started bawling. The bystanders watched coldly. My mom was the only one who threw herself onto the ground to hug him. “Mommy is so sorry! It’s all Mommy’s fault!” 3 My parents had a massive blowout argument. My dad was screaming in the bedroom. “We never should have kept him! He’s a monster!” My mom pointed a finger in his face, screaming back hysterically, “Even if he is a monster, he’s your flesh and blood! And he’s already born! What’s the point of saying this now?!” My dad wanted to argue back but couldn’t find the words. He left my mom crying alone in the room. My mom tried desperately to send him to other preschools, but he either bullied the little girls—cutting off their braids—or bullied the younger boys, shoving their heads into the toilets and forcing them to drink the water. When he saw a teacher who was seven months pregnant, he actually told the other kids he wanted to kick her hard in the stomach. And later, he actually did it. When the pregnant teacher was walking to the bathroom, he sneaked up and tripped her. She lost her balance and fell forward. If someone nearby hadn’t caught her in time, the outcome would have been unthinkable. The teacher’s husband caused a massive scene. He demanded the preschool pay for emotional distress and demanded to know why my brother was so purely malicious at such a young age. The principal had no choice. She refunded our tuition and practically begged my mom, “Please, take your child and go. Our little school can’t handle him! I’ve been running preschools for thirty years, and I’ve never seen a child like this!” Neither my dad’s anger nor my mom’s pleading worked. Eventually, my mom gave up. She had my grandma watch him at home until he was old enough for elementary school. As the only grandson in the family, my grandma doted on him. She gave him whatever he wanted. Because of her age, her legs weren’t great, making stairs difficult. But even so, she would gladly walk to the grocery store every single day to buy whatever food he wanted to eat. One day, just as my grandma was heading out for groceries, the moment she reached the top of the stairs, I saw my brother charge out with a wicked grin and violently shove her from behind. The grocery basket tumbled down the steps, followed immediately by the sickening thud of my grandma’s body rolling down the stairs. My brother clapped his hands and laughed. His laughter echoed through the entire stairwell. I saw the whole thing with my own eyes. After that, my grandma was paralyzed. My dad slapped my brother like a madman. He looked like he wanted to kill him. My mom cried and clung to his legs, screaming, “He’s just a child!” My dad roared, “That is not a child! That’s a monster!” He slumped into a chair, muttering to himself, “We should have aborted him. We should have aborted him back then.” My brother glared at him with pure hatred. I was the only one who walked over to my dad. I told him not to be sad, that Grandma would get better. My dad hugged me tight, tears suddenly falling from his eyes. When I got home from the hospital, I was in a great mood. I hummed a song while feeding my bunny some lettuce. My poor bunny was still traumatized from seeing its companion killed; it shivered whenever someone came near. I shoved the lettuce against its mouth. “Eat it.” The bunny wouldn’t open its mouth. “Why aren’t you eating?” Finally, I opened the cage, and personally watched the lettuce go into the bunny’s stomach before I left, satisfied. 4 After Grandma was paralyzed, there was another person in the house who needed constant care. To prevent any more “accidents,” my mom quit her job to stay home and look after my brother and Grandma. No one knew why my brother pushed her, but according to him, he just thought it would be fun. That was how he always operated. Seeing other people suffer was fun to him. His happiness was only real if it was built on someone else’s pain. After being betrayed by her precious grandson, Grandma’s attitude completely changed. She stopped talking to him and finally started realizing my worth. Whenever she had something good to eat, she would call me over and save it for me. She didn’t give my brother a single second of her time. My brother caught us talking and sharing snacks a few times. He stared at us with a dark, sinister look. “What are you guys doing?” We stayed silent. He turned around and went back to watching cartoons. I let out a sigh of relief. But I underestimated my brother. He held grudges better than anyone. How could he just let it go? Not long after, on a day when Grandma was taking a nap, my mom and I went to the supermarket. My mom told him, “Stay out of the kitchen, and wait nicely for us to come back, understand?” He smiled sweetly and agreed. An hour later, when we got back and opened the door, we were immediately hit by the smell of smoke. My mom’s face went pale in horror. She threw the door open to find the apartment filled with smoke. She screamed his name like a madwoman. My brother was in the living room, completely unharmed. But when I went to look for Grandma, I realized the smoke was pouring out of her bedroom. Grandma was still lying in bed. I covered my nose and yelled, “Grandma! Grandma, get up!” She didn’t answer. I yelled a few more times. My mom rushed in, shaking her. “Mom! Mom! What’s wrong? Mom!” Grandma remained lifeless. As the smoke cleared slightly, I could faintly see her lips were turning purple. My mom reached out with a trembling finger to check her breathing. Two seconds later, she let out a piercing scream and collapsed onto the floor. Grandma was dead. 5 Soon, police cars, ambulances, and fire trucks completely surrounded our building. The paramedics pulled a white sheet over Grandma’s body. The firefighters looked at the floor, covered in shredded firecracker paper, and let out a long sigh. The mattress was flipped over, and the space under the bed was charred black. A firefighter told the police, “Preliminary findings suggest the child lit a string of firecrackers in the room. The elderly woman was asleep at the time. The shock likely triggered a fatal heart attack.” A police officer frowned and turned to my mom. “Leaving a child home alone is bad enough, but how could you leave firecrackers where he could easily reach them? Do you have absolutely zero common sense as a parent?” My mom hadn’t even recovered from the shock yet. She stuttered, “I… I didn’t know. There were no firecrackers in the house…” The police looked at my mom in disbelief. Meanwhile, my brother sat on the sofa like nothing happened, sucking on a lollipop and giggling as people rushed in and out. Someone glanced at him and whispered, “Look at that kid. His grandma just died and he’s sitting there laughing.” But they didn’t know. My brother didn’t have a heart to begin with. When Grandma’s body was wheeled past me, my nose started to sting. Even though she had only been nice to me toward the very end, those were still unforgettable memories. Just then, my dad rushed through the door, just in time to see Grandma’s body being loaded into the ambulance. He leaned against the doorframe, his legs gave out, and he slowly slid down to the floor. My mom stood defensively in front of my brother. She said weakly, “You… you need to calm down. Your mom was over seventy, and her heart was already bad.” My dad had already gotten the news before he arrived. He stared dead at my brother, a bottomless well of hatred surging in his eyes. Suddenly, he let out a roar, violently shoved my mom to the floor, grabbed his heavy leather briefcase, and swung it directly at my brother’s head. The briefcase slammed into him, knocking my brother to the floor. Blood from his nose stained the floorboards red. My mom screamed hoarsely, clinging to my dad’s legs. “It was just an accident! It was an accident!” My dad dragged my mom up off the floor and roared, “Get the hell away from me!” Seeing the situation spiraling out of control, the police quickly pulled my dad away. “It already happened. Please calm down! You didn’t discipline your child when it mattered, and now that someone is dead, you want to beat him?” The firefighter quickly added, “Exactly. If this had started a structural fire, could you take responsibility for the casualties of the entire building?” My brother used the distraction to sprint back into his room. When he came back out, he was holding the remaining string of firecrackers. Right in front of all of us, he lit the fuse and hurled it straight at my dad. “I’m going to blow you all up!” The firecrackers exploded in a deafening, crackling roar, filling the room with thick smoke again. Everyone just stared at my brother in dead silence. He was a monster. 6 Grandma’s death was officially ruled an accidental death. After taking care of the funeral arrangements, the house was left in ruins. After that day, my dad never spoke a single word to my brother again. He acted like he didn’t exist, and barely spoke to my mom either. After Grandma was cremated, my dad stood holding her urn and said coldly to my mom, “Let’s get a divorce.” This time, there was no explosive argument. I don’t know when, but my brother suddenly appeared behind me. He whispered, “Grandma’s dead. I thought you’d be happy.” A violent chill ran down my spine. I snapped, “What are you talking about? Why would I be happy that Grandma died?” He didn’t say anything. He just stared at me, unblinking. The next morning, my dad had already packed his bags. My mom was leaning against the headboard in the bedroom, her eyes red from crying. He left all the money and the house to my mom and voluntarily gave up custody of both of us. Right before he left, I cried and asked him, “Dad, are you really leaving?” My dad smiled bitterly. “Be a good girl, Lily. I know you’re the most sensible one. You need to take good care of your mom from now on. If anything happens, call me.” I sobbed, “If I’m so sensible, then please don’t go!” My dad sighed. “Lily, it’s not your fault. It’s all my fault. I never should have gotten married and had kids. I was never capable of living a normal life, and now I’ve ruined so many people’s lives.” With that, he grabbed his suitcase and walked out the door without looking back. From that moment on, it was just the three of us left in the house. Because I had promised my dad, I worked even harder. I scored exceptionally high on my middle school entrance exams and got into the best public middle school in the city. Because of the arson incident, every elementary school in our district was terrified of my brother. Seeing that no school was willing to accept him, my mom came up with a plan. She legally changed his name and we moved to a completely different school district. After all the chaos, she finally managed to get him enrolled just before September. My mom had aged visibly in those few months. The divorce hit her incredibly hard, but she still refused to give up on my brother. She always hoped her love could somehow change him. But my brother used his actions to prove to her that some kids are just born evil. They can never be changed.

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I fell asleep reading a novel, and when I woke up, I realized I had transmigrated into the book. I had become the most despised, vicious villainess in the entire story—a girl who shared my name, Chloe. At this exact moment, I was leading a group of my delinquent lackeys, cornering the novel’s second male lead in a narrow alley: Liam. Pushed against the brick wall, the boy wore a faded gray school hoodie. He was lean and stood tall, his messy black hair falling forward to slightly obscure his eyes. A dark bruise on the left corner of his mouth stood out starkly against his pale skin. Yet, he remained silent and stubborn, his narrow, dark eyes looking at me with freezing indifference. My legs turned to jelly. Of all the moments to transmigrate, it had to be now! The novel was a cliché, melodramatic mess. Liam had secretly loved the female lead for years, but because he came from a poor family and was deaf in his right ear, he buried his feelings deep in his heart, choosing to protect her from the shadows. And I—Chloe—was a spoiled, arrogant rich girl who lusted after his looks and harassed him relentlessly. After he publicly rejected my confession, I brought my crew to corner him. That wasn’t the main issue. The main issue was that today, his grandmother was going to suffer a sudden hypertensive crisis. Because I delayed him from going home, he wouldn’t be able to get her to the hospital in time, and she would pass away. From that day forward, Liam hated me to his core. Years later, after discovering I was still bullying the female lead, the now highly-successful, ruthless billionaire Liam used an iron fist to bankrupt my family and send me straight to prison. …And today was the pivotal turning point of it all! Looking at the boy’s face right in front of me, I knew that if I leaned in just an inch closer, our lips would touch. Remembering my tragic, horrific ending in the book, my legs went weak, and I stumbled a step back. “Hey? Chloe, what’s wrong?” The crowd of lackeys started jeering. “You haven’t even kissed him yet!” I gritted my teeth and put on a bored, unamused expression. “Forcing it is boring. One day, he’ll be begging to kiss me.” As my words fell, the group erupted into raucous laughter and cheers. “You tell ’em, Chloe!” Liam’s expression remained calm and distant, as if he didn’t even register these people or this situation in his eyes. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked out of the alley. Seeing his lean silhouette disappear at the intersection, I turned around, getting ready to leave as well. But after two steps, the thought of his grandmother weighed heavily on my mind. I couldn’t just let it go. My foot stepped on something hard. I looked down. This looked like… Liam’s student ID? I snatched it up, hastily bid my crew goodbye, hopped into my family’s chauffeured car, and immediately told the driver to turn around and head straight for Liam’s house. I value my life very much! Please, let nothing go wrong! Chapter 1 The car pulled up to a dilapidated, rundown apartment complex. I practically leaped out of the vehicle and immediately spotted Liam walking up ahead. Sensing something, he turned his head and looked back. Seeing it was me, his brows knitted together, and his voice was ice-cold: “Why are you here?” I was in such a rush to check on his grandmother’s condition that I blurted out: “Isn’t it obvious? I’m stalking you.” Liam: “…” I almost bit my own tongue off. No! Chloe, even if you’re playing the bad girl, you have to follow basic logic! I paused. Seeing his defensive, guarded posture, I figured sticking to my mean-girl persona was the safest route. I braced myself. “Since I’m already here, aren’t you going to invite me in?” Chapter 2 Liam obviously wasn’t going to agree. He just stared at me, his eyes freezing cold. I curled my lip in a sneer. “Forget it if you don’t want to. Do you really think I care?” I turned around and got back into the car. Only when I told the driver to pull up to the intersection did I watch in the rearview mirror as Liam walked down the narrow alleyway leading to his building. “Mr. Miller, drive slowly.” I silently counted the seconds in my head. Ten minutes later, a frantic commotion erupted from the alleyway. I could hear some neighbor lady yelling in a panic: “Call 911! Hurry!” My chance! I rolled down the window and looked back: “Liam!” The boy looked up in stunned disbelief. … “Good thing you got her here in time! If you had been twenty minutes later, the patient’s condition would have been critical!” Hearing the doctor’s words, the heavy rock suspended in my heart finally plummeted to the ground. Okay, okay! I had safely navigated through this death flag! I happily skipped over to the billing department to pay her hospital deposit. Surely this would offset at least a fraction of the heinous crimes the original Chloe had committed against Liam, right? The Chloe in the book was a spoiled, headstrong rich girl doted on by her parents. Even though she was only a senior in high school, her bank account balance was staggering. Compared to me, who grew up in the foster system before transmigrating, she was living like royalty. Especially since this money was buying my literal survival, spending it didn’t hurt my heart at all. When I walked back, I saw Liam stepping out of the hospital room, leaning against the wall with his head slightly bowed. It was already dark outside. The hospital corridor smelled strongly of antiseptic, and the harsh fluorescent lights cast shadows over the boy’s thin frame. I couldn’t help but sigh internally. Honestly, with a face like that, who wouldn’t be completely mesmerized? No wonder the original Chloe had been insanely, obsessively in love with him. As if sensing something, Liam turned his head and looked my way. I walked over. “I already paid your grandmother’s hospital deposit.” Liam pressed his thin lips together. It took him a long while to speak. “Thank you. I’ll pay you back as soon as possible.” Liam’s family was dirt poor, and he was just a high school senior about to take his final exams and apply for college. Where was he supposed to get the money? His grades were easily Ivy League level. Unfortunately, in the original story, he was so derailed by his grandmother’s tragedy that he bombed his final exams and missed out on his dream school. …Oh, wait. That was my fault too. There were only three months left until graduation. No matter what, I had to make sure he took his exams in peace! But Liam was incredibly stubborn. Who knew what dangerous things he might do to scrape together the money to pay me back? Thinking of this, I raised an eyebrow. “No need. To pay me back, you can just be my private tutor.” Liam clearly hadn’t expected me to say that. His dark eyes widened in astonishment. …I couldn’t blame him. The original Chloe had probably never even opened a textbook. I lifted my chin arrogantly. “From now on, you’ll do my homework for me. On top of that, you’ll tutor me three times a week, no less than an hour per session. How about it? Got a problem with that?” In just two sentences, I perfectly showcased my ulterior motive of wanting to spend time alone with him. Sure enough, hearing this, Liam’s brow furrowed ever so slightly. I threw more fuel on the fire, stepping closer with a sly smile, whispering, “Or, you can just pay me back with your body and be my boyfriend.” Liam instinctively leaned back, putting distance between us, a faint trace of cold hostility flashing in his eyes. Weighing the two options, he obviously knew which one to choose. “Fine. Friday to Sunday, nine PM, at the public study hall.” … I was incredibly satisfied. However, that good mood came to a screeching halt the second I walked into my classroom the next day. “Did you hear? Chloe confessed to Liam yesterday and got brutally rejected! It’s so funny. Has she looked in a mirror? Why would a guy like Liam ever like someone like her?” Chapter 3 As the words fell, the group of girls gathered around the desk burst into mocking laughter. One of them had sharp eyes and spotted me. Her face instantly drained of color, and she frantically shoved the arm of the girl who was talking. The laughter died instantly. The entire classroom became so quiet you could hear a pin drop. “Ch-Chloe, you’re here?” One of the girls whispered, her face pale with panic. Sigh. It was obvious my notorious reputation preceded me. I didn’t even have to say a word; just standing here was enough to terrify them. I ignored them, walking down the aisle to my seat in the very back row, lazily tossing my backpack onto the desk. Thud. The classroom grew even quieter. “Chloe? Mrs. Davis wants to see you.” A guy standing at the classroom door called out. Me: “…” Dammit! How could I forget? After I cornered Liam yesterday, someone snitched to the teachers, which originally resulted in me having to read a humiliating public apology at the morning assembly! Even though I hadn’t exactly been an honor roll student in my past life, I was at least well-behaved and never caused trouble. Thinking of the impending storm, my face crumpled into a grimace. But as I walked out the door, I ran right into Liam. He had a band-aid over the bruise on the corner of his mouth. I only gave him a fleeting glance before heading toward the faculty office, asking the guy who called me, “What does she want with me?” The guy stammered, “…I don’t really know. You’ll find out when you get there.” The moment I stepped away, the classroom erupted into chaotic murmurs again. I glanced back over my shoulder and saw a girl with a high ponytail standing in front of Liam. She was the very definition of pure and gentle. With just one look, I knew she was the female lead: Mia. I vaguely heard her asking softly, “Liam, are you hurt?” To Liam, Mia was the single ray of light in his dark, dreary life. He was willing to give everything for her, asking for nothing in return, as long as she was okay. Just like right now—Liam seemed to glance in my direction for a split second, then quickly withdrew his gaze and shook his head lightly at her. He had been bullied and cornered, but he couldn’t bear to let Mia worry about him. Then I thought about my current situation— “Chloe, do you know why I called you here?” In the faculty office, our forty-something homeroom teacher, Mrs. Davis, looked furious. I shook my head. Mrs. Davis’s brow furrowed tightly, and she raised her voice. “Someone reported that after school yesterday, you and your friends bullied Liam. Is this true?” Even though it was true, I would take that secret to my grave! I braced myself. “No.” “Really? No?” “Really, no.” “Chloe!” Mrs. Davis’s face turned even uglier. She slammed her hand against her desk. “Even now, you’re still lying to my face!” It was obvious she didn’t call me here to ask for my side of the story. She wouldn’t believe a single punctuation mark that came out of my mouth. Makes sense. What teacher would believe a delinquent mean girl who constantly skipped class? “This Monday at the morning assembly, you will stand up there and read a public apology!” I struggled. “Mrs. Davis, I really didn’t do it.” Mrs. Davis sneered. “Still denying it? Fine. If you can find someone to prove your innocence, I’ll believe you!” Me: “…” Imagining my crew of edgy, rebellious lackeys standing in the faculty office to act as my character witnesses made my vision go dark. Looks like I really couldn’t escape this one. I closed my eyes, saying desperately, “…Nobody can prove my innoc—” Knock, knock. Someone knocked on the open door. A cool, distant voice floated in. “Mrs. Davis.” I turned around in shock. Liam. His dark eyes were completely calm. “I can prove her innocence.” Chapter 4 Never in a million years did I expect the person to step up and save me to be Liam. But hearing this, Mrs. Davis’s frown deepened. She glanced at me, then raised her voice to speak to Liam: “Liam, if someone is threatening you, don’t worry. The school and the faculty will protect you.” Me: “…” Liam shook his head, his expression serene. “No one is threatening me.” Mrs. Davis asked again, “Then why did some students say they saw you two together after school yesterday?” Liam paused, then explained, “She had some questions about our coursework that she didn’t understand. She wanted to ask if I had time to tutor her.” Now, Mrs. Davis’s eyes practically popped out of her head. “What?” She looked at me, her eyes brimming with suspicion. Honestly, any teacher hearing this would think they were losing their mind. But Liam had already laid down the perfect excuse. It would be rude of me not to play along. I quickly concocted a lie, lowered my head, and spoke with a devastated tone: “Yes. My parents are talking about divorce right now. I thought if I could get my grades up, they might be so happy they’d change their minds.” Sorry, Mom and Dad! I owe you one! In reality, my dad was a self-made millionaire who married my mom for one simple reason: she was stunning. And when she nearly died giving birth to me, they decided one child was enough. As their only daughter, I was spoiled absolutely rotten. Mrs. Davis’s expression grew incredibly complicated. It took her a long moment before she finally said to Liam: “Helping a classmate is a good thing, but finals are coming up. Don’t let this drag down your own grades.” I wasn’t offended. With my current academic standing, there wasn’t much room for me to drag anyone down anyway. The moment I stepped out of the office, I let out a massive sigh of relief. “Chloe? How did it go? Mrs. Davis didn’t give you a hard time, did she?” A guy with a buzzcut suddenly popped up. I squinted and recognized him as Tyler, one of my lackeys from yesterday. Noticing Liam standing next to me, Tyler instantly went on high alert, stepping between us and glaring viciously. “Did you snitch on Chloe to the teacher?!” Liam’s expression was indifferent. Without saying a single word, he bypassed Tyler and kept walking. “Hey! You—” Seeing this idiot about to blow up, I quickly grabbed his arm. “Tyler! Shut your mouth!” You’re offending the future billionaire who could crush me like a bug! You get to act like a tough guy, but Liam’s gonna put all that resentment on my tab! Tyler looked skeptical but, seeing how serious I was, backed down. He scratched his head and grinned, holding out a drink. “Chloe, your favorite! Taro bubble tea!” I took it. “Thanks.” Tyler asked, “Hey, Chloe, we booked a table at the pool hall tonight. You coming?” I hesitated. Honestly, I didn’t want to go. I wasn’t the real Chloe. But if I changed my personality completely overnight, people would definitely get suspicious. Liam suddenly glanced back over his shoulder in our direction. A lightbulb went off in my head. “Why would I go? I have actual important business tonight.” Tyler looked confused. “What important business?” I took a sip of my boba and said slowly: “Attending study hall.” Tyler’s jaw dropped. “No way, Chloe? You don’t even go to regular classes, and now you want to go to study hall?” I kicked him in the shin. “What do you know! This study hall is way more important than you guys!” This is my golden opportunity to suck up to Liam! Anyone who stops me is dead meat! Liam withdrew his gaze, looking as though he had heard me, but also as if he didn’t care at all. I hurried to catch up with him. “Liam! Today is Friday. You promised to tutor me, don’t forget!” Liam didn’t say anything. Remembering he was deaf in his right ear, I leaned in closer to his left side and confirmed, “Hello? You can’t back out now!” Liam finally gave a slight nod. “Yeah.”

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On the day Carter Hayes got engaged, reporters shoved microphones in my face, asking how I felt. Carter Hayes. He was the untouchable, blue-blooded prince of the Upper East Side. No one approved of the eight years I spent with him. His mother would refer to me simply as “the actress,” spitting the word out like a slur. His inner circle of friends would warn him behind his back, “She’s just a little starlet. Play with her for a bit and let it go.” And Carter? He’d just flip his expensive lighter open and shut, joking carelessly, “What are you scared of? It’s not like I’m actually going to marry her.” I looked right into the interview cameras and said slowly, “Although we aren’t close, it’s a good thing. I wish them a happy engagement.” The video went viral across the internet. Carter took his private jet, flying overnight from New York to L.A. The news of Carter’s engagement completely overshadowed the headlines of my Best Actress win. Looking at the news on my phone, you could only read his name, never see his face. Carter’s photos were strictly kept out of the press. But facts and rumors alike couldn’t stop the public’s insatiable appetite for gossip. Because for the past eight years, thanks to me, he had lingered in the public eye like a ghost. His moniker in the tabloids was simply: “Serena Vance’s Sugar Daddy.” Everyone found amusement in their disdain for me, waiting eagerly for the moment I would fall from grace. “Serena, we heard you met Mr. Hayes when you were eighteen, is that true?” “Serena, you’ve been with him for so many years, why didn’t you end up together? Did his family reject you?” “Mr. Hayes chose today of all days to announce his engagement. Was he intentionally trying to humiliate you?” “Were you ever really together? Did Mr. Hayes dump you?” “Did you split up with this billionaire because of the hand-holding scandal half a month ago?” My eyes slowly swept over their frantic faces. Their gazes felt like they were trying to skin me alive, desperate to dig out an even more explosive headline. Carter Hayes… Got engaged today? I plastered a flawless, graceful smile on my face and looked back at them. “I am not very close with the Mr. Hayes you are referring to. “However, an engagement is a joyous milestone in life… I wish him a happy engagement.” Looking directly into the lens, I said it slowly, one more time: “Happy engagement, Mr. Hayes.” They excitedly analyzed my words layer by layer, acting like detectives searching for hidden clues. I handed my phone back to my manager, Chloe, who looked at me with deep concern. “The internet is saying Mr. Hayes dumped you. Your endorsements and casting offers are probably going to plummet. You know I don’t fully understand his background, but I know he’s someone nobody messes with. “If a man like that puts out a word against you, even a fresh Best Actress award won’t save you.” I felt incredibly drained. “Chloe, don’t worry too much. I won’t let it drag you down…” She offered an awkward smile, her lips moving, but she didn’t say anything else. No one believed that for those eight years, we were just like any ordinary couple. We went from flirtation to deep affection, from a passionately inseparable romance to a heartbreaking, tear-you-apart ending. Carter had a pair of chilling, desolate eyes. When those eyes locked onto you, you instantly felt like you were nothing but dust. It wasn’t intentional on his part; he was simply born that way. He possessed an innate, apathetic indifference toward everything in the world. The first time I looked into those eyes, I subconsciously wondered: in a world this loud and crowded, how much love could a man who stood so far removed from it all truly give? It was 2012. The Mayan doomsday prophecies were everywhere, Taylor Swift was blasting on every radio station, and The Perks of Being a Wallflower was making waves on campus. I was eighteen. My eighteen was fiery, impulsive, and fearless—the age of ignorance where you truly believe love conquers all. That was the year I met Carter Hayes. At the time, I was juggling classes, working part-time jobs, and desperately running around trying to audition for various indie films. When a so-called “investor” placed his rough palm on my thigh during a casting call, I instinctively stood up and smashed my bag over his head. As I ripped the door open and bolted, I heard him scream from behind, “You little bitch! Someone stop her!” I was screaming and struggling, looking like an absolute wreck, when a slightly raspy voice echoed through the hall. “Hey. The girl said no. Didn’t you hear her?” It was a voice so light it barely carried weight, yet it worked instantly. He just threw me a casual glance, as if he happened to see a stray dog getting kicked and, being in a decent mood, decided to intervene. He was leaning against the hallway windowsill, propped up on his elbows. The breeze blew in from outside, ruffling his dark hair. His white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the top, the sleeves rolled up to reveal a luxury watch. The cigarette trapped between his fingers flickered faintly. The men chasing me out of the room saw him and practically scrambled away with their tails between their legs. Clutching my bag to my chest, I gave him a deep, ninety-degree bow and sincerely thanked him. Suddenly, I heard him let out a soft chuckle. He looked out the window, put out his cigarette, and asked lazily, “Acting major? Which school?” “NYU Tisch.” He nodded, as if it were just a passing question. “They’re gone. You can head back.” The first time I saw Carter Hayes, everything about him was so understated that I didn’t even bother to think about who he might actually be. It was only later I realized that when people reach a certain echelon of power, they no longer need outward extravagance to prove themselves. They are often more low-key than anyone else. When we were together, we actively avoided talking about our family backgrounds. To Carter, I was just someone to have fun with; there was no need for explanations. To me, I was just enjoying the fleeting moments of pleasure. It wasn’t until one night at his friend’s private club. The only guy in his circle who was somewhat friendly to me got drunk and accidentally let slip a family name. I didn’t catch it clearly, but I knew it was a name completely out of my reach. Only later did I realize that wasn’t friendliness at all. It was just a different kind of warning: I was completely out of his league. Unfortunately, I was young and arrogant. I refused to listen to anyone’s advice and wasted so many years entangled with him. After the awards ceremony, the afterparties were inevitable. I walked out of the underground parking garage of The Plaza with a slight buzz, waving off my team, choosing to head upstairs alone. As the elevator ascended, I looked at my reflection in the massive mirrored walls. Tonight was supposed to be the proudest moment of my life. I should be cheering and ecstatic. I vaguely remembered a time when I missed out on a tiny, insignificant award and cried uncontrollably. Carter had sighed, pulling me into his arms, murmuring softly: “It’s just some garbage award from nowhere, you don’t need it anyway. Someday you’ll win Best Actress, and we’ll slap it in the faces of everyone who was too blind to see your talent. Stop crying, okay?” I cried even harder, asking uncertainly, “Can I really win Best Actress? I can’t even get a supporting role. When will I ever win Best Actress? You’re just humoring me…” He laughed. “Our Serena is amazing. If you don’t believe in yourself, at least believe in me. When has Carter Hayes ever lied to you?” I wrapped my arms around his waist, wiping my tears all over his ridiculously expensive shirt, leaving him rubbing his temples, afraid to get mad but clearly exasperated. After taking a shower, I threw myself onto the soft sofa, picking up my phone to reply to the flood of congratulatory messages. My finger paused over one specific name. The last message was from half a month ago. Back then, we had a massive blowout. Exhausted to my core, I sat in the passenger seat and said calmly, “Let’s break up, Carter.” His knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel, the veins bulging on his forehead. Through gritted teeth, he spat, “Impossible. Don’t even think about it.” I smiled—warmly, but cruelly. “I’ve already humiliated you like this. Do you really want to keep going?” He whipped his head to look at me, breathing heavily. It took him a few seconds to calm down. “Serena, what exactly are you throwing a tantrum about now? I’ve been exhausted lately. Just give me some time…” The argument ended in a bitter stalemate. Neither of us was willing to be the one to back down. The doorbell and my ringtone went off at the exact same time. It was probably the same person. I sat there coldly, letting the phone and doorbell ring for ages, ignoring them completely. It wasn’t until I heard the doorknob turn that I remembered I hadn’t changed the keypad code yet. I sat on the sofa, looking toward the entryway. Covered in the dust of travel, Carter looked at me with dark, heavy eyes. The eyes are the organs of desire. His eyes used to hold nothing, caring for nothing. I was the one who dragged him down into the mortal realm, only to leave him to struggle bitterly in a sea of desire. I was much calmer than I expected. Some things just needed to be resolved properly. “It’s so late. You flew all the way from New York?” He stopped right in front of me, blocking most of the light. His dress shirt was slightly wrinkled, the sleeves still rolled up. After a moment, he sat down and rested his head heavily on my shoulder. He seemed exhausted as he sighed, “What are you throwing a tantrum for?” How much of this was real, how much of it was love? It was impossible to say. Carter, can you really not see that this game is finally reaching its end? I asked him calmly, “Are you thinking that after you get married, I’ll just be your mistress? “Carter, don’t degrade me like that. “Please.” He froze, eventually murmuring, “Just give me some time…” I cut him off. “We tried, didn’t we? Carter, I tried. But all it gave me was a broken, bleeding head. Do you really have to drag me down to crash into a brick wall one more time before you let it go?” I looked down at his ring finger and said sincerely, “Your new ring is beautiful.” Carter’s hand instantly went completely rigid. I tilted my head back, smiling at him exactly like I did when we first met. “So, can I have the ring I gave you back?” What a tragedy. A passionate, all-consuming teenage romance, ending in such mutual disappointment. When I saw Carter again at eighteen, it was at a college gala. I had been pulled in last minute as a backup dancer. I thought our first meeting was just a passing coincidence, but it was actually the beginning of a long, messy entanglement. I was wearing a pure white ballet dress, waiting off to the side. I didn’t know if he had been there all along or had just arrived. He held his cigarette out the window and called out lazily, “Little Swan?” I turned my head. The moment I saw it was him, a spark of light flared in my eyes. He let out a low chuckle. “Didn’t mistake you. It really is you.” I walked over, asking curiously, “What are you doing here?” He looked down, the wind carrying the clean, intoxicating scent of him. “I was bored. Took a walk, ended up here.” He spoke to me like he was humoring a child, but I didn’t care enough to argue. He continued to tease me, saying I owed him a meal as repayment for saving me. I came fully prepared, pulling out all my part-time job savings to take him out. He looked so incredibly expensive that I couldn’t even imagine him sitting in a greasy, rundown diner. The contrast was too jarring. But he just navigated his way through the campus and sat down at the college dining hall for a late-night snack. He barely ate. After a few bites, he put his chopsticks down, explaining to me that he had a bad stomach and couldn’t eat much. At first, I thought he was just being polite, but after we got together, I realized he had actually destroyed his own stomach. When we were together, I learned how to cook all sorts of comforting soups and porridges just to take care of his stomach issues. Whenever his pain flared up, I stayed by his side day and night, treating him like he might shatter. He would lie half-propped up in bed, his face pale, pinching my cheek with a faint smile. “Look at how tense you are. Anyone would think I had terminal cancer.” I slapped his hand away in anger, grabbing the empty bowl and storming downstairs without looking back. Carter owned several startups at the time. During the early days, like most founders, he was working himself to the bone. For a while, I genuinely believed he was just a self-made guy who started out with a little seed money from his family. I secretly rejoiced, thinking that if I just worked hard enough, the gap between us wouldn’t be that wide. After several back-and-forths, we always found an excuse to talk. By the time I realized what was happening, Carter had already embedded himself in my life. The first time I met his friends was at a notorious, exclusive club in New York. I had dressed up meticulously, wanting to leave a good impression. When Carter saw me, he looked surprised for a moment. Once we got there, I understood why. The room was divided: the men were his friends, and the women were just arm candy brought along by them. His friends treated my presence next to Carter as totally unremarkable. They threw me a single glance and went straight back to greeting him. A lot of times, making someone feel painfully insecure in a crowd doesn’t require active bullying or insults. Neglect and indifference are the sharpest weapons. A simple, dismissive glance from someone born in a different social stratosphere is enough to make your skin crawl. Clearly, Carter had no intention of introducing me. Both to his friends and to him, my role that night was probably just entertainment. When you’re young, you have too much pride. If he wasn’t going to take me seriously, I was going to make damn sure he noticed me. His friends were playing high-stakes games. I casually swirled my cocktail. “One drink, call. Show them.”

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A new “Little Miss Innocent” transferred into our elite private academy. She practically had the words “The ‘I Can Fix Him’ Heroine” glowing in neon letters above her head. Every single day, she hovered around my fiancé, showering him with excessive concern and handing him cheap lollipops. Whenever I got close to my fiancé, she would shield him behind her back and scream at me: “I—I know you’re rich and powerful, but I won’t allow you to bully him!” With tears welling in her eyes, she looked like she had suffered the ultimate injustice. Me, having literally done nothing: “Are you psycho?” 1 Mia Collins was delivering candy again, while I was spinning my pen in sheer boredom. The classroom was a chaotic mess of chattering voices. My desk mate, Zoey, who was busy checking her makeup in a compact mirror, suddenly nudged me with her elbow. She tilted her chin to the left, her eyes full of blatant disgust. “Chloe, that transfer student is giving Liam candy again.” Her again. Mia Collins, the scholarship student who always acted like she was the designated savior heroine of a tragic romance novel. I stopped spinning my pen and looked over at her. She was wearing a brand-new pristine uniform. In one hand, she clutched her usual cheap lollipop. In the other, she held a slightly warped plastic thermos filled with some kind of hot white liquid. Looking straight ahead, she marched past the first row, then the second, heading straight for the back of the class. Finally, under the increasingly gossipy gazes of everyone around us, she shyly took a seat at Liam’s desk. A few students in the back huddled together, whispering excitedly. Mia remained completely unfazed. She gently placed the lollipop in front of Liam’s pencil case, then decisively unscrewed the cap of a high-end insulated tumbler sitting on the corner of his desk. Zoey pointed at Mia in shock. “Chloe! Isn’t that the tumbler filled with the imported vitamins your family got for Liam?” “Looks like it,” I replied casually. Resting my chin on my hand, my eyes followed Mia as she marched over to the trash can, poured out every last drop of the expensive supplements, and scurried back to Liam’s desk to mess with her plastic thermos. A girl nearby caught my eye and leaned in toward Mia, pretending to be curious. “Hey, transfer student. Did you ask Liam for permission before messing with his stuff?” Mia put on an incredibly shy expression and whispered, “This is warm almond milk. I just wanted to prepare something for him myself…” As she spoke, she began pouring the almond milk into the expensive tumbler. Zoey let out a mocking scoff. “Do you honestly not know what Chloe Sterling and Liam Vance are to each other?” Mia’s hands froze. She cast a fleeting, pitiful glance in my direction before quickly lowering her head, her voice trembling with manufactured grievance. “I know. I just… I just wanted to be nice to him. I wanted to warm his stomach.” Honestly, whatever she wanted to do with Liam had very little to do with me. But watching this entire performance unfold, I was getting a serious whiff of manipulative “pick-me” energy. Her constant, victimized glances in my direction were starting to annoy me. I clicked my tongue and casually reminded her, “Transfer student, Liam has a sensitive stomach. He can’t drink almond milk.” Zoey chimed in, “And the supplements you just poured down the drain cost a small fortune, by the way.” Mia flinched. The hands holding the tumbler and the plastic bottle went completely stiff. The hot almond milk missed the rim and spilled over her fingers. Scalded, she let go. With a loud BANG, the heavy tumbler crashed onto the floor. The scalding hot almond milk splattered everywhere in a messy puddle. The classroom instantly went dead silent. Countless eyes zeroed in on the scene. A sudden, burning pain flared across my left calf and foot. Even the back of my hand, resting on my desk, hadn’t escaped the splash zone. I had been pampered my entire life. No one had ever treated me like this. I looked down at the reddening skin on my leg, and then at the custom $7,000 leather loafers that had just been delivered yesterday. I let out a dry, irritated laugh. “Talk about rotten luck today.” Mia’s eyes filled with tears. She didn’t utter a single word of apology. I stood up, intending to head to the locker room to change my shoes. As I walked past Mia, I paused. “Mia.” My voice sounded sharp in the unnaturally quiet classroom. I wiped my hand with a tissue, looking down at her coldly. “That tumbler? I gave it to Liam. It’s worth about $1,500. I won’t even count the imported vitamins you poured out. But these shoes cost me seven grand. My lawyers will contact you after school.” The kids in our social circle never shied away from drama. They immediately started jeering: “The Sterling family’s legal team is known as the undefeated sharks of Wall Street.” “Transfer student, you’re screwed!” Hearing this, Mia cried even harder. She sat at Liam’s desk, sobbing and hiccuping. “You… you rich kids are all bullies. You’re so mean!” That was exactly when Liam walked in. He stopped just to the right of me and Mia. He was tall and lean, wearing a pair of silver half-rimmed glasses resting on his straight nose. His indifferent gaze swept past Mia, who was weeping a river at his desk, and locked onto me without a trace of emotion. “Chloe Sterling, what did you do this time?” 2 Liam and I locked eyes in the tense silence. Three seconds later, I suddenly stepped into his personal space. “Liam, my darling fiancé. How come you only saw the little innocent flower crying, but you completely missed the burn on my leg?” Only then did Liam lower his gaze to my legs. He looked down and saw the angry red patch on my pale calf, still dotted with droplets of almond milk. I casually took a seat at an empty desk nearby, crossing my left leg and swinging it slightly so he could get a good look. Before Liam could say a word, Mia suddenly lunged forward, throwing herself between us. She screamed at me: “I—I know you’re rich and powerful, but I won’t allow you to bully him!” With tears streaming down her face, she looked like a martyr suffering for love. I hadn’t even done anything yet, and here she was, screaming at me like a lunatic. My temper flared. “Are you psycho?” Mia didn’t answer. She just looked at Liam with big, pitiful, tear-filled eyes. Oh, two can play that game. I kept my mouth shut, crossed my arms over my chest, and stared at Liam. Liam let out a nearly inaudible sigh. He grabbed a tissue, crouched down, and wrapped one hand around my ankle. His grip was firm. The rest of the class, completely used to this dynamic, went back to whatever they were doing. With lowered eyes, his long lashes casting faint shadows on his cheeks, Liam meticulously and gently wiped the sticky residue off my leg. After several passes, a faint stinging sensation returned. My skin was incredibly sensitive. If he kept rubbing, he was going to peel a layer off. “Stop,” I frowned, annoyed. “Liam, that hurts.” I tugged my leg twice, but I couldn’t break free. Instead, his grip tightened. Liam looked up. His eyes were like a dark abyss, practically swallowing me whole. “Does it hurt?” he asked. His intense stare made me uncomfortable, and my first instinct was to escape. Without thinking, I kicked out lightly, leaving a distinct half-footprint right on his crisp, pristine white uniform shirt. Liam had severe OCD and was a massive neat freak. Looking at the glaring smudge on his shirt, I felt a twinge of guilt. “I just wanted you to let go.” Even though I felt bad, I kept my chin high, maintaining my arrogant facade. I glared at him fiercely. “Did you hear me?” “Yeah,” Liam’s voice was slightly hoarse. “I’ll let go.” He stood up, completely ignoring the dirt on his shirt, and looked down at the dented tumbler that had rolled next to my desk. Mia seized the opportunity. She scrambled to pick up the tumbler, cradling it in her hands. She looked up at Liam and stammered, “I brought you warm almond milk this morning. I wanted to put it in your cup, but—” She shot a rapid, meaningful glance at me, acting as if she had been forced into silence. “Anyway, it fell on the floor and got dented.” Liam looked at her blankly. “Got it.” His voice was flat and slow. But Mia was overjoyed just to get a response. She held the cup out to him with both hands. Liam took the tumbler. In the very next second, he brushed past her, walked straight to the trash can, and tossed the expensive tumbler inside. Leaving Mia staring in absolute shock, he walked out the back door of the classroom. A few minutes later, Liam returned carrying a pair of delicate, black designer flats—my backup shoes from my private locker. He crouched down, meeting my dazed eyes. “Change your shoes.” Mia’s face turned beet red with rage. She rudely pointed a finger at me, then screamed at the crouching Liam, “Liam! Are you her dog?!” Liam kept his head down, completely deaf to her words. Looking at Mia practically stomping her feet in frustration, I raised an eyebrow. “Liam, I think she feels sorry for you.” “Yeah. And?” Liam looked up, his gaze locking onto mine. “What do you think?” He was as cold and indifferent as ever. I blinked, flashing a wicked little smile. “I have no idea.” 3 Liam and I had been engaged since we were kids. Logically speaking, no one should have been able to tolerate my spoiled, princess-like temper. Some of our friends even had secret bets going on about when Liam would finally snap and break off the engagement. To their shock, the golden boy, Liam Vance, had always catered to my every whim, taking care of me down to the smallest detail. In our social circle, everyone called us the golden couple, a match made in heaven. After high school, the Sterling and Vance families used their wealth and connections to enroll us in the elite Crestwood Academy. Unlike normal universities, Crestwood assigned classes based on asset evaluations and offered incredibly flexible schedules. The tragedy happened during our freshman year. Liam’s mother died in a horrific car crash. His social-climbing father immediately moved his mistress and illegitimate son into the family estate, seizing the assets and inheritance that rightfully belonged to Liam. Overnight, the wealthy, untouchable young heir lost everything, plummeting from the clouds into the dirt. After that, Liam moved out of the mansion and into a modest, run-down apartment near the school with his grandmother. I don’t know exactly when, but he learned how to smoke. He became incredibly frugal. The boy who never had to worry about money began aggressively entering every single academic competition that offered a cash prize. He became quieter, harder, and almost unapproachable. But he still took care of me exactly like he used to. It was as if no one else in the world could trigger his emotions—except me. Until… Mia arrived. From her very first day as a transfer student, she locked her sights directly on Liam. And whenever she looked at me, underneath the blatant jealousy, there was always a strange trace of pity. At first, Liam ignored her completely. But then, out of nowhere, he started paying attention to her. He even initiated contact. I wasn’t some brain-dead, clueless villainess from a YA romance novel. I knew there was something weird about Mia. And I also knew that if you wanted to win the war, the worst thing you could do was act impulsively and lose the long game. 4 After the almond milk incident, Mia finally kept a low profile for a few days. It was raining today, the sky a gloomy, muted gray. Liam was off-campus representing the school in a physics decathlon, which meant Mia had no one to perform for. During the afternoon study hall, the girls in our class gathered around my desk, chatting about the latest designer drops. “Chloe, that dress you posted on Instagram last week—can I borrow it for my birthday party?” Zoey’s cheeks were round and pink, and she was incredibly cute when she begged. I laughed, unable to resist pinching her cheek. “You’ve got a good eye. Do you even know how much that vintage haute couture piece is worth?” “Like, sixteen hundred dollars, right?” Zoey grabbed my hand. “Please, Chloe? My favorite princess, just let me wear it once!” “Pfft—sixteen hundred dollars?” Mia, sitting across the aisle, laughed out loud. “You need to borrow a sixteen-hundred-dollar dress?” The girls exchanged looks and laughed even louder than Mia. “Hahahaha!” “Is she telling a bad joke?” Zoey rolled her eyes directly at Mia and scoffed, “It’s two point five million dollars, transfer student.” Mia froze, a flash of deep embarrassment crossing her face. But she quickly recovered, turning to me with a self-righteous glare. “Two and a half million dollars for a single dress? Don’t you think that’s a massive waste? Wouldn’t it be better if you donated that money to children in poverty?” Her expression was the picture of moral superiority, her eyes full of judgment. I stared at the invisible words floating above her head for a long moment, staying completely silent. I finally got it. This “Savior Heroine” wasn’t just delusional; her moral compass was completely twisted. Mia squirmed under my intense stare. “A-Am I wrong?” “No, I think you’re absolutely right,” I smiled, my eyes curving into crescents. Mia let out a breath of relief. “So—” I rested my chin on my hand. “How about I just give the money directly to you, transfer student?” Mia’s eyes widened in shock. Her heart clearly skipped a beat. “T-Two and a half million? You’d just give it to me?” “Yep.” I tilted my head, putting on a perfectly innocent expression. “I’ll wire it right to your account.” Mia, trapped by her own moral grandstanding moments ago, struggled to maintain her pride. She stammered, “Well, if… if you’re offering it to me—” “Ah,” I cut her off mercilessly. I inspected my fresh manicure, speaking slowly and deliberately. “But of course, our noble, selfless transfer student would never accept a handout like that, right?” Mia finally snapped, her face burning with humiliation. “I was just giving you a suggestion! You don’t have to humiliate me like this!” “Oh,” I replied lazily. “I was just stating facts. No need to overreact.” Zoey muttered loudly beside me, “She clearly doesn’t read the news. She has no idea how many millions the Sterling family donates to charity every year.” Though Zoey kept her voice low, she made sure Mia heard every word. Mia’s face turned an ugly shade of pale. She turned away and refused to speak to us. A little while later, she began checking the clock above the chalkboard obsessively. Just past five o’clock, Mia pulled a clean, dry towel and a pack of severe cold medicine out of her backpack. She slapped a sticky note with illegible handwriting onto the medicine, placed it gently on Liam’s desk, and sat there clutching the towel, staring expectantly at the front door. In the next second, the invisible “Savior Heroine” halo above her head glowed even brighter. “Transfer student, are you preparing for a rainy day, or are you just praying for Liam to catch a fever?” Zoey asked, clearly fed up with Mia’s existence. Preparing for a rainy day… I rested my left hand on the desk, tapping my index finger rhythmically against the wood. Was she preparing for a rainy day, or did she already know the future? My eyes suddenly lit up. I grabbed Zoey’s round face and planted a loud kiss on her cheek. “The dress is yours!” I stood up, ready to walk out of the classroom. Zoey, dizzy from the sudden kiss, asked, “Chloe, where are you going?” “Me?” I flashed a brilliant smile. “I’m going to do something worth way more than two and a half million dollars!”

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“Alex, I’m buying you an apartment next year.” My mother, who always favored Chloe over me, suddenly announced this at dinner. The entire dining table fell silent. After all, we hadn’t spoken properly in twenty years, ever since I witnessed her affair. The next second, my sister’s angry voice cut through the quiet. “Mom, why?! Alex is a grown man, he has hands and feet, why would you buy *him* an apartment?” “I’m getting married soon! If all the money goes to him, what about me?!” With that, Chloe slammed her forks down and stormed off. My father, who always claimed to love me the most, panicked at my mother’s sudden show of kindness. “Chloe’s right. She’s getting married soon; she needs enough savings so her fiancé doesn’t look down on her.” “Alex, you’re a man; you should take on more responsibility. If you’re worried about not having money for a wedding, you can always find a rich girl to marry and move in with her family, become a house husband, whatever!” “What do you say, Alex?” I stared at him blankly, nodding stiffly. My father breathed a sigh of relief. But this time, I didn’t listen to him. Later, when he saw the three property deeds in my hand, my father’s composure finally shattered.

“No, I’m buying Alex an apartment, no matter what!” “If Chloe doesn’t have money for her wedding, then she just won’t get married!” My mother’s stance was firm, and my father’s anxiety deepened. “Why? What’s gotten into you? Why are you suddenly thinking about buying our son an apartment?” “You two weren’t… weren’t…” My father stammered, unable to finish his sentence. I knew what he wanted to say: *Weren’t we enemies?* After all, when my father found out about my mother’s affair, he directly dropped eight-year-old me at his mistress’s doorstep. He looked at me with teary eyes. “Alex, if your mom doesn’t come home, Dad will have to take you with him to die.” Then, he just left. Eight-year-old me cried hysterically outside the door, my heart-wrenching screams attracting a huge crowd, practically blocking the street around the mistress’s house. My mother had no choice but to appear. Amidst the stares and whispers, she grabbed me by the arm and dragged me back. Once we were home, I got a brutal beating. From then on, my mother resented me for the public humiliation. And I hated her for betraying my father. Since that day, we hadn’t spoken properly in twenty years. I never called her “Mom” again. … Hearing this, my mother turned her gaze to me. There was a profound meaning in her eyes that I couldn’t decipher. After a long silence, she finally spoke. “No reason. He’s my son. As his mother, it’s only right for me to buy him an apartment. This matter is settled!” “Robert, you always said I favored Chloe. Now that I’m being good to my son, why are you suddenly unhappy?” My mother’s cold tone made my father’s face stiffen. Hearing her, I put down my forks, quietly waiting for my father’s reply. After all, my father always favored me, and that favoritism only grew stronger after Chloe was born. “Alex, girls eventually leave to start their own families, but I’ll always be able to count on you, Alex. It’s only right that I treat you better now.” So, I always got first pick of the good food; Dad always bought me designer clothes while Chloe got stuff from discount stores; Even my cash gifts during the holidays were thicker than Chloe’s. … My mother saw my father’s favoritism, which only made her resent me more and love Chloe more. This time, I didn’t understand why my mother was suddenly being kind to me. Nor did I understand why my father reacted so strongly. After all, Chloe’s wedding apartment and her entire wedding fund were already prepared. Even if my mother bought me an apartment now, it wouldn’t affect Chloe’s marriage. My father’s eyes darted around, and his voice unconsciously grew weaker. “That’s not what I meant. I… I… I just thought that once our daughter gets married, her new family will need a lot of money… shouldn’t we, as parents, help them out more?” “Besides, if our son-in-law finds out we bought Alex an apartment, it’s hard to say he won’t fight with Chloe. After all, you promised all the family assets would go to Chloe. What if… what if he refuses to marry Chloe because of this?” Every single word was filled with worry for Chloe. A heavy weight settled in my chest, making it hard to breathe. Turns out, in my father’s heart, a prospective son-in-law was more important to him than his own son. My mother let out a cold laugh. “If Chloe and her husband can’t support their own family, then they shouldn’t get married! Don’t drag us down!” “Besides, I’m spending my own money to buy my son an apartment. What’s it to anyone else?!” “If you object, then we’re getting a divorce!” With that, my mother simply stood up and walked away.

The word “divorce” struck my father hard. Even when confronted with my mother’s affair and his mistress’s provocations back then, my father hadn’t wanted to divorce her. This time, my mother proposed divorce to buy me an apartment, and my father clearly couldn’t accept it. His eyes teared up. “Alex, what am I going to do? You have to talk to Eleanor for me. I only have you.” I frowned, my heart a jumble of mixed emotions. I’d heard those same words for twenty years. Back then, when my mother beat me raw, my father stood by silently, with no intention of stopping her. Only after my mother had calmed down did he approach, gently applying medicine to my wounds. “Alex, Dad’s just doing this so you can have a complete family.” “You have to make me proud, kid. I only have you.” “For you, Alex, I’d go through anything! Any hardship, any pain, I’d bear it all!” Looking at my humiliated father, little me decided then and there to study hard, make something of myself, and take my father away from all this. Three months later, news came that my mother was pregnant again. I thought, even if my father loved my mother, he would surely divorce her this time. But to my surprise, my mother had an amniocentesis, confirming the baby was my father’s. My mother returned to the family, and they reconciled, both eagerly awaiting Chloe’s arrival. My resolve felt like a joke. … Now, my father’s plea was just another demand for me to compromise. My heart grew colder, bit by bit. “Dad, if you just agree to Eleanor buying me an apartment, she won’t divorce you.” “No!” Seeing I wouldn’t budge, my father angrily let go of my hand. “Alex, I’ve really spoiled you all these years! How can you be so thoughtless about your sister?!” “Chloe’s job and education aren’t as good as yours, do you know how hard it is for her?! If she goes into her marriage without enough funds, do you know how much flak she’ll get from her in-laws?” “I don’t care! Go tell Eleanor you don’t want her to buy you an apartment! Otherwise, I’ll kill myself, I swear!” My breath caught in my throat. If I didn’t agree to his demands, my father would threaten to die. Seeing a flicker of hesitation on my face, my father sighed. “Alex, please don’t make your Dad’s life harder, okay?” “You’re a boy, it’s fine if you don’t have an apartment. There are always girls willing to pay for everything.” “After Chloe gets married, they’ll need money for so many things! They’ll have to buy a car, pay off their mortgage, and when they have kids, raising them will cost a fortune…” My father kept rattling on, and my heart was filled with bitterness. “Dad, do you know how much stress I’m under right now? If I could have my own apartment, it would be a huge relief.” My father brushed it off. “If you’re stressed, just find a rich girl to marry! Being a house husband isn’t so bad! When her parents pass, won’t all their money be yours?” “Don’t worry, Dad will definitely find you a wealthy wife, so you can enjoy life once you’re married! Just forget about Eleanor’s assets, okay?” My heart was filled with disappointment. My father seemed to have forgotten how gravely he once warned me never to be a house husband. To never live such a pathetic, undignified life, like him! Seeing my prolonged silence, my father slammed the table. “Are you seriously going to stand there and watch me die?!” My throat felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and I could only nod helplessly. … That night, I tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. Faint arguments drifted from my parents’ bedroom next door. Driven by an unknown urge, I crept to their door. “Robert, you still have the nerve to bring up what happened back then?” “All these years, haven’t you done enough things to hurt Alex?” My heart was in my throat.

“You always claimed to love Alex the most, but didn’t all the good stuff always go to Chloe in the end?!” “What are you talking about?!” I clenched my fists tightly, not daring to make a sound. “Weren’t all the designer clothes he bought for you knock-offs?!” “And the snacks he bought you, weren’t they always the ones Chloe didn’t like?!” “And the cash gifts, didn’t you always slip Chloe an extra bill the very next day?!” “How dare *you* accuse *me* of favoring girls?!” My blood ran cold. The argument inside continued, and my mind went blank with a buzzing sound. I walked back to my room with stiff steps. I pulled the covers over my head, finally letting the tears flow freely. As I cried, I picked up my phone. I opened Eleanor’s SnapChat chat and slowly typed “Okay.” … The next day, I showed up with puffy, red eyes. Chloe, seeing me at the breakfast table, snorted. “Mom’s buying you an apartment, what are you crying for?! So dramatic!” My mother silently drank her coffee. My father, seeing my state, brought me an ice pack for my eyes, all while shooting me meaningful glances. I knew what he wanted, and slowly I spoke. “I don’t want the apartment. Let Chloe have the money.” Chloe looked at me in disbelief. “You… you’re crazy?” Hearing this, my father pretended to be angry with Chloe. “How can you talk to your brother like that!” “Your brother is successful; he can buy his own apartment. Not like you, who only knows how to mooch off her parents!” Though she was scolded, Chloe’s face was beaming. “That’s right! Older brothers should always take care of their younger sisters!” “Mom, since Alex doesn’t want it, buy it for me!” “Perfect, three apartments. You and Dad live in one, Ethan and I live in one, and the last one for Ethan’s parents.” My mother finally looked up at me, just about to speak, when a knock sounded at the door. Chloe’s fiancé arrived. “Ethan, what brings you here?” My father greeted him, his face eager to please. “I came to visit for the holidays.” Though he said this, Ethan’s face held no trace of a smile. My father quickly took out a cash gift and handed it to him. To my surprise, Ethan pushed it away, speaking in a cold voice. “Chloe, I’ve decided not to marry you!” Hearing this, Chloe’s face changed. “Why?” Ethan sneered, looking at me. “Why? Your parents said all the family assets would go to you, but now they want to buy your brother an apartment! Why would we even get married then?!” Hearing this, my father anxiously spoke. “Ethan, don’t worry, that won’t happen.” “Alex already said he doesn’t want the apartment Eleanor bought him.” Chloe quickly chimed in. “That’s right, Mom already promised to buy that apartment for us, and then we’ll bring your parents over too.” Ethan’s eyes flickered with a hint of struggle. “I don’t believe it! Unless…” “Unless all three apartments are transferred to our names!” Hearing this, I laughed, infuriated. “Ethan, aren’t you being too greedy?” Before he could answer, my mother, who had been silent, suddenly stared at me and spoke. “Fine. After the holidays, we’ll go handle the transfer!” Seeing my mother agree, the three of them immediately beamed with joy. “Eleanor, I knew you loved your daughter the most!” Ethan quickly changed his expression to a smiling one. Then, he looked at me with mockery. “Alex, if you want to buy an apartment, go work for it yourself! Don’t always depend on your parents’ stuff!” “From now on, this is Chloe’s and my home. As an outsider, you should come back less often!” With that, he and Chloe walked out hand-in-hand to go shopping. My father looked at me, his lips trembling, but in the end, he said nothing. My last shred of hope finally shattered. Just then, my mother sent me a message. “Parkside Estates, Building 10, 8th floor, Unit 5. Your new apartment. Go check it out.” “If you like it, I’ll pay the deposit immediately.” I looked up, surprised, at my mother. But she just calmly went back to her room. Parkside Estates, the most exclusive development in our city, selling for a ridiculously high price per square foot. Why was my mother acting so strange all of a sudden? My mind was filled with questions. “Alex, don’t blame Dad for not speaking up for you earlier.” “You have to understand, Chloe finally found someone she likes, and your mom and I have to make her happy.” “Don’t worry, from now on…” Before he could finish, I got up and left for Parkside Estates. The apartment my mother chose was south-facing, with amazing natural light. It even had three bedrooms and a living room. It was nothing like the small apartment I had imagined. My doubts grew stronger. My mother, who had always favored Chloe, why was she being so abnormally good to me now? I rushed home, wanting to ask her for a clear explanation. But my mother wasn’t home. For the next few days, my mother continued to leave early and return late, busy with who knows what. The only time we saw each other was during family meals. My mother’s expression became increasingly relaxed, and her eyes sparkled with excitement. I had a faint feeling that something was off and wanted to ask, But my mother inexplicably avoided me. As my holiday was about to end, my mother sent me another message. “Tomorrow morning, we’re going to handle the property transfer.” The next morning, my mother and I quietly left the house. She took me to the real estate agency and paid cash for an apartment for me. My name was the only one on the owner’s title. Before I could even fully grasp it, she took me directly to the property registration office. “Please transfer the two properties under my name to my son’s name.” My mother had already prepared all the documents, and the procedures were completed quickly. By the time we arrived home, I had three property deeds in my hand. As soon as we opened the door, the three people in the living room immediately rushed over. “Mom, where did you go so early? Do you know how long Ethan and I have been waiting?” “Hurry up and handle the transfer! The office will close soon!” My mother casually glanced at them and spoke unhurriedly. “No need. It’s already done.” Their faces changed color. Then, they finally noticed me behind my mother, and the property deeds in my hand.

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Everyone said I hit the jackpot. I was an orphan, yet the Vance family picked me out at a glance and took me in as their foster daughter. From then on, I was treated like royalty, just like Brittany Vance, the Vance family’s true eldest daughter. We had the same lavish lifestyle, the same upbringing, the same everything. After a big family dinner on a holiday evening, my adoptive mother, Eleanor Vance, smiled and presented a box, asking us to draw slips. “There are two slips here. One says ‘Study Abroad.’ If you draw it, you’ll go overseas for further education and eventually take over the family business.” “The other says ‘Stay Home.’ If you draw that, you’ll stay here with me.” Brittany was absolutely confident. As a Vance by blood, it was only natural for her to study abroad and inherit the family. And I, the foster daughter, was meant to be a convenient pawn, staying by her mother’s side, serving tea and water, keeping her amused. I thought so too. But to my surprise, I drew the “Study Abroad” slip. Brittany’s face instantly contorted, and she shrieked, insulting me. “Did you cheat?! Everything in the Vance family is mine! You illegitimate mongrel, who knows where you came from, how dare you even think of inheriting the family business?!” “Mom, are you really going to let an outsider steal my life?!” Normally, whenever Brittany threw a fit, Eleanor would compromise, giving her whatever she wanted, even my parents’ keepsakes. This time, however, Eleanor’s face was devoid of expression as she slapped the screaming Brittany hard across the face. “Rules are rules. Whoever draws it, gets it.” “From now on, the Vance family business will be inherited by Alice.”

Brittany clutched her face, staring at Eleanor in disbelief. “Mom! How could you hit me for *her*?! I’m your own daughter! What kind of spell has that little brat, who knows where she came from, cast on you?!” Eleanor seemed not to hear her cries, not even sparing her a glance. She simply turned to me, her voice calm as she instructed. “Alice, go get all your documents ready. I’ll take you to process the paperwork tomorrow.” Seeing that her crying and screaming had no effect, the hurt on Brittany’s face was replaced by venomous resentment. She spun around abruptly, glaring at me through gritted teeth. “Alice Vance, you just wait! You think you can steal what’s mine? No chance in hell!” She then shrieked at Eleanor again, attempting a final threat. “Mom! If you really give everything in the Vance family to this outsider today, I’ll… I’ll disown you! I’m leaving right now!” A flicker of heartache crossed Eleanor’s eyes, but she merely pressed her lips together, ultimately saying nothing to stop her. She didn’t even look at Brittany as she slammed the door and left. Eleanor just softened her voice when she spoke to me. “Alice, don’t take it too hard. I’ll talk to Brittany later.” I nodded obediently on the surface, but a sense of dread filled me. I knew Brittany’s personality better than anyone. In the past, without direct conflicts of interest, she enjoyed tormenting me. The bruises and scratches that appeared on me every other day were already commonplace. Now that I had snatched away the inheritance she considered her birthright, how could she possibly let it go? I took a deep breath, putting on a sensible facade, and walked towards Eleanor. “Mom, the Vance family has raised me for so many years. I’m already so grateful; I never dared to dream of inheriting anything.” “That study abroad spot, and the inheritance, rightfully belong to Brittany. Please, don’t let me ruin your mother-daughter relationship with Brittany.” Eleanor turned, her gaze lingering on my face for a moment, a complex emotion flashing in her eyes. She sighed, her tone, however, was firm. “Alice, you’re just too sensible. Brittany, she’s been spoiled by me. I know in my heart that you are the one truly suited to carry the Vance family’s legacy.” “Since destiny decreed that you draw the slip, this is your fate, and the Vance family’s fate. Accept it with peace of mind. I’ll handle everything else and won’t let Brittany mess things up.” Seeing her resolve, the words I was about to say died in my throat. I truly didn’t care about the Vance family’s vast wealth, but that study abroad spot was the only key to escaping my suffocating life. In the Vance household, I was ostensibly a glamorous foster daughter, but in reality, the hidden bullying and exclusion were harder to bear than in the orphanage. With this study abroad spot, I could leave the Vance family openly and legitimately. At most, I would just go along with Eleanor’s wishes for now, leave this place, and once the plane landed, I could find an opportunity to explain to her and give up the inheritance. It wouldn’t be too late. Thinking this, I lowered my eyes and meekly agreed. At Eleanor’s urging, I went back to my room to pack my essential documents. Just as I opened the drawer and took out my passport, my door was violently kicked open. Brittany stood in the doorway, her eyes bloodshot, but those eyes were fixated on the passport in my hand. “Alice Vance, are you actually planning to take my family’s money and go live it up overseas? Don’t you have any shame? Any decency? How can you feel so smug about stealing someone else’s things?!” As she spoke, she rushed over and snatched my passport.

I reached out to grab it back, but Brittany shoved me with even greater force. My back slammed against the wall, and I gasped in pain, sliding to the floor. She loomed over me, clutching the passport in her hand. “You want to steal my things to study abroad? Alice Vance, I’m telling you, dream on! You dirt-poor wretch, rotting in the mud, how dare you compete with me?!” To my horror, she tore the passport in half with both hands. I endured the pain and questioned her, my voice trembling. “Brittany Vance! Mom decided this herself! Aren’t you afraid Mom will be angry if you tear up the passport?!” Brittany casually tossed the torn passport pieces onto my face and sneered. “Angry? I’m her only biological daughter! No matter what I do, she’ll always side with me in the end! Didn’t she say nothing when I treated you like that before?!” Although I had suspected it for years, Eleanor probably wasn’t entirely unaware of Brittany’s bullying. Perhaps she simply thought an adopted child could serve as a useful punching bag for her biological daughter. But hearing her say it so bluntly still sent a chill down my spine. Tearing up the passport wasn’t enough for Brittany; she started rummaging through my room, determined to destroy all my documents. I didn’t want to lose this opportunity. Enduring the pain, I struggled to my feet and stood between her and the cabinet. “Get lost! You dare block me?!” Seeing my defiance, Brittany’s rage intensified. She raised her hand, ready to slap me across the face! “Stop that!” Eleanor’s sharp shout suddenly came from the doorway. My body instantly froze. Brittany’s action paused for only a moment, then she ignored Eleanor, not only failing to pull back but even escalating, slapping me hard to the ground. Eleanor stormed into the room, her eyes immediately falling on the pile of passport fragments on the floor. Her face darkened instantly. “Brittany, you’ve gone too far! I’ve made my decision on this, and I won’t change my mind, no matter how much you fuss!” She wasted no more words, directly calling the servants outside the door to take the still-raging Brittany back to her room. Quiet returned to the room, leaving only me, a displeased Eleanor, and the mess scattered across the floor. Eleanor’s gaze fell on me, her tone carrying a hint of dissatisfaction. “Alice, you’re going to lead the Vance family someday. How can you not even hold onto a passport?” “Forget it. I’ll have someone fast-track a replacement passport for you. Keep your other documents safe, and be ready to leave with me tomorrow, don’t mess this up.” I lowered my head, not offering any explanations, just quietly agreeing. Eleanor gave a few more instructions, telling me not to provoke Brittany further, and to be more yielding with her, before turning and leaving. I slowly knelt, tidying up the mess on the floor, silently counting down the days until my departure. Just a little longer, just a few more days, and I would be free. Before the appointed time, I locked myself in my room, doing my best to avoid any potential contact with Brittany. My door was locked, and even my meals were delivered directly to the entrance by the servants. However, the next day, at the agreed-upon time, as I tried to quietly leave the house, I found my door wouldn’t open. My heart sank. I twisted the doorknob harder, even tried to ram the door with my shoulder, but the lock didn’t budge. I pounded on the door, screaming for help. But the servants passing by outside seemed not to hear a thing.

I screamed until my voice was hoarse. Finally, a voice full of reluctance sounded from outside the door. “Miss Alice, please don’t shout, it’s no use…” It was Maria, the housekeeper who usually cleaned this floor. Her voice came through the door, tinged with fear. “It’s Miss Brittany’s strict order. She said anyone who dares to open your door will be fired immediately. We have no choice.” My last sliver of hope extinguished. I slid down the door to the floor, my body turning cold. The servants all knew perfectly well that Brittany was the rightful eldest daughter of this house, and I was merely a foster daughter who could lose favor at any moment. I watched the sky outside the window slowly dim. I stopped shouting, just sat with my knees hugged, my hope fading with time. Just then, Eleanor’s voice, full of suppressed anger, suddenly came from outside the door. “You’ve all gone mad! Who gave you the nerve to lock Alice in her room? I’m still alive and well in this house! Who are you to give orders?!” “Open that door immediately!” The door was quickly opened. Outside, several servants stood in a trembling line, heads bowed, not daring to breathe. Brittany, hearing the commotion, also burst out of her room, screaming at Eleanor. “Mom! What are you doing?! I just don’t want this mongrel to steal my things! Why are you helping her?!” Eleanor looked at her daughter’s hysterical state and said nothing more. She simply ordered James, the butler, standing nearby. “Take Miss Brittany back to her room and keep her there. She’s not allowed to step out until Alice and I return!” Brittany’s screams were cut off behind the door. Eleanor then turned to me, not saying much, and hurried me into the car. The atmosphere in the car was suffocatingly heavy during the drive. Eleanor kept staring out the window, her brow furrowed. I knew she was worried about Brittany; after all, this was the first time she had spoken such harsh words to her beloved daughter. Sure enough, not long after we arrived at the office, Eleanor’s phone rang. It was James, the butler. “Madam, it’s terrible! Please come back quickly! Miss Brittany, she’s… she’s threatening to jump! She’s sitting on the windowsill now, refusing to come down no matter who tries to persuade her!” Eleanor’s face instantly went pale. She abruptly stood up from her seat, grabbing her bag in a panic, not even sparing me a glance. She just hastily tossed out a single sentence. “Alice, you finish the rest of the paperwork yourself!” My heart sank heavily. Brittany had indeed resorted to the most extreme measure. I was afraid Eleanor would soften and compromise again under her daughter’s suicide threat, so I didn’t dare to delay for a moment. I rushed through all the procedures as quickly as possible. Even with the plane ticket and documents firmly in my hand, I felt a little dazed. Had it really gone through? Brittany hadn’t managed to sabotage everything at the last minute? It was almost too smooth, leaving me with a faint sense of unease. I took a deep breath and walked out of the office lobby. The next second, I froze in place. Right at the main entrance of the building, Brittany stood leisurely, a triumphant sneer replacing her earlier frantic expression. And behind her, five or six muscular men in black suits blocked all my escape routes. “Alice Vance, so eager to take what you stole and fly off? As expected, trash is trash. You steal things and act so righteous.” She lifted her chin and commanded the men behind her. “Go, teach her a good lesson. Teach her that other people’s things are not to be touched.”

At her words, the men’s faces twisted into grim smiles as they closed in on me. My heart pounded. I turned to run, but they quickly surrounded me, blocking every exit. Seeing no escape, I steeled myself, curled into a ball, and clutched the document bag containing my ticket and papers tightly to my chest. I was pressed to the ground. Someone yanked my hair, and slaps rained down on my cheeks. The coppery taste of blood filled my mouth. I bit down hard, not making a sound, enduring the punches and kicks raining down on me, my vision blurring. Brittany stood a few steps away on the stairs, arms crossed. Seeing me curled up, protecting the document bag, her voice was petulant. “Alice Vance, aren’t you so capable? Daring to snatch things from me, daring to process paperwork behind Mom’s back. Why aren’t you so tough now?” “Keep hitting her until she lets go. I want to see just how hard this wretch’s bones are.” I don’t know how long it lasted, but the one-sided beating finally stopped. My whole body ached, and I could only lie on the ground, gasping for breath. Brittany squatted down, nudged my shoulder disdainfully with the tip of her shoe, then snatched away the document bag. She casually flipped through the ticket and papers inside, then pulled a lighter from her pocket. “No!” My eyes burned with fury. I found a burst of strength from somewhere and desperately grabbed her pant leg. Just as Brittany kicked me away and was about to ignite the folder, Eleanor finally arrived. She rushed over, panting. The bodyguards following her quickly subdued the thugs and Brittany. “Brittany Vance! You’ve even learned despicable tricks like faking suicide by jumping?! I’m telling you, from today on, none of your schemes will work on me!” Back at the Vance home, Eleanor dragged a crying and struggling Brittany into the study for a lecture. I, dragging my aching body, returned to my room. The next morning, I sat in the car, waiting. After a long time, Eleanor finally emerged with a red-eyed, swollen-faced Brittany. “Alice, Brittany knows she was wrong. I specifically asked her to see you off today and apologize properly. After all, you two are sisters, you’ll always need to support each other in the future.” Saying this, she nudged Brittany. “Go, help your sister with her luggage. Consider it an apology.” Under Eleanor’s unwavering gaze, Brittany grudgingly walked over, snatched my backpack, and deliberately slammed her elbow into yesterday’s wound. I gasped in pain, a cold sweat instantly breaking out on my forehead. But I bit down hard, swallowing my cry of pain. No more complications, I told myself. Just endure a little longer, everything would be over soon. At the airport, Brittany seemed to have adjusted her mood. She was laughing and chatting with Eleanor as if she hadn’t been the frantic person of yesterday. And I, seeing the boarding gate so close, couldn’t help but let out a faint smile. Finally, the announcement for my flight to begin boarding echoed through the speakers. I took a deep breath, stood up, and extended my hand to Brittany for my backpack. However, at that very moment, Eleanor suddenly stood up. She clamped one hand tightly on me, holding me in her embrace. With her other hand, she used all her strength to push Brittany forcefully towards the boarding ramp. Eleanor’s voice suddenly rose, her eyes filled with reluctance as she looked at Brittany. “Alice! Study well over there! Mom will wait for you to come back and inherit the family business!” Before I could react, a group of fully equipped police officers surrounded Eleanor and me.

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Five years after my divorce, I received an old diary from my ex-husband. It contained things he couldn’t let me know until he died. [An arranged marriage? Seriously? Over my dead body!] [Chloe Sterling just had a kidney removed, she’s not dying. She’s just being overly dramatic.] [Ridiculous. She actually thinks she’s special, that this will make me want her back?] [Where are you? Please, come back.] [Chloe Sterling, I was wrong.] [In the next life, I hope you never meet Liam Thorne again.] I was getting Leo ready for preschool when Liam Thorne’s package arrived. I tossed the delivery box onto the entryway table without a second thought. My heart, which I thought had long been calm, still rippled with emotion. Back home, I hesitated for a long time. Eventually, I opened that old diary. [July 25, 2015, Saturday, Sunny to Cloudy My old-fashioned father actually wants me to get into an arranged marriage with that naive Sterling girl. Doesn’t he know how much I can’t stand her? And an arranged marriage with her? You’ve got to be kidding me. (Unless it was her sister, Willow Sterling, then maybe I’d consider it.)] Only these few lines were on the first page of the diary. The handwriting was light and messy, reminding me of our younger days. Our families, the Sterlings and the Thornes, had been intertwined for generations. So Liam and I were practically childhood sweethearts. Too bad I was raised as a daughter of the prominent Sterling family but wasn’t their biological heir. Willow Sterling was the true Sterling daughter, found after being separated from the family for years. But after all, I was the daughter the Sterlings had raised for eighteen years, and I had a compliant personality. The Sterlings decided not to send me away, letting me stay as the younger Sterling daughter. The Thorne family also continued to treat me warmly. Except for Liam Thorne. He always picked on me, ever since we were kids. At three, he pulled my pigtails. At thirteen, he pulled my bra strap. Now he was mocking me for being a fraud. He was utterly annoying. At my eighteenth birthday party, a fallen candle ignited balloons, causing a fire. Unexpectedly, the annoying Liam Thorne was the first to rush over, shielding me from the flames and getting a large burn on his back. From that moment on, I fell hopelessly in love with my hero. For four years in college, I did everything to pursue him. Friends in our circle called me Liam Thorne’s biggest simp, but I didn’t care. I loved it. After college, I begged my father for half a year before securing an arranged marriage with Liam Thorne. I knew he wasn’t happy; he scowled throughout the entire engagement party. He only spoke to Willow. Back then, I was foolish enough to believe. Even if Liam was an iceberg, I could slowly melt him, making him fall in love with me. It wasn’t until after we were married that I found him and Willow kissing in our marital home. The heartbreak felt like a dagger twisting in my chest, making me refuse to admit it. He really didn’t love me. “Chloe Sterling, our marriage is purely to maintain family interests.” “As you can see, the one I love is your sister, Willow.” “How about, from today on, we live separate lives?” I sat dejectedly on the floor, watching the mockery in his eyes, my hands clutching the carpet, feeling utterly powerless. He left with Willow and didn’t come back for six months. I searched the city like crazy for him. I became the talk of the town as a deserted wife, scorned and ridiculed by everyone. Until that night, I saw a drunken Liam Thorne outside a private club room. He’d been dumped. Willow had broken up with him. I took him back home and nursed him back to health, treating him like he was the most precious thing. “Chloe Sterling, are you really that stupid?” “I think you’re just pathetic. Saving you back then was a mistake.” “You’re like a leech, impossible to shake off.” During that time, Liam drank all day long. Drunk or sober, he’d always say something to hurt me. I took it all in. What else could I do? I loved him, hopelessly so. I put down my car keys, walking to the living room while reading the diary. I opened the fridge and grabbed an ice-cold soda. Curling up on the couch, I turned to the next page.

[December 8, 2017, Friday, Light Rain Married Chloe Sterling for two years now, and she’s still so boring, always just circling around me. It’s really annoying. Besides, I’m the city’s most notorious playboy, so what if I go out with some girls? What’s the big deal? She’s just like my dad, always trying to control me, so old-fashioned. I, Liam Thorne, swear, I will never love Chloe Sterling even a little bit in this life. If I ever do, may I rot in hell.] A mouthful of soda nearly choked me. I tossed the remaining half bottle. Anyway, I didn’t even like the stuff. It was Liam’s favorite, though. Liam loved thrills, adventure, and everything challenging. That’s how he fell for Willow, too. Willow was brought back home from the countryside when she was eighteen. She was different from me. She was fiery, daring, and willing to try anything new and exciting. Liam loved her bravery and detested my timidness. Later, the brave Willow also found Liam timid and boring, so she dumped him. She called me that day. “Chloe Sterling, I never loved Liam. I just purely envied you for living my heiress life for eighteen years. So, I took Liam from you purely for the thrill of it. Now, I’m giving him back. We’re even from now on.” She was as impulsive as ever. Before I could say a word, she hung up. But how could Liam, who had once loved Willow, settle for ordinary? So he started his own challenges. Challenges like collecting twelve zodiac girlfriends, and twenty-four seasonal girlfriends. I remember December 8, 2017, was the hundredth time I caught him out cheating. His left arm was around a young model, and his right hand was getting cozy with a B-list actress. When I arrived, I smashed his table, drenching him in whiskey. “Chloe Sterling, you’ve gone too far!” He surged to his feet in a rage, clutching the liquor bottle tightly, but he didn’t throw it. I gave him a cold stare, grabbed the bottle from his hand, smashed it on the floor, and yelled. “Come home with me!” For the first time, he actually listened to me. It was drizzling outside the bar, and I just dragged him, stubbornly walking him all the way home. “Liam Thorne, how long are you going to keep playing these games?” “None of your business!” “We’re married.” “Pfft, you think I wanted that?” I stared at him. He stripped off his clothes right in front of me, not caring one bit, and walked into the bathroom. Two years married. He had never touched me, yet he had no qualms about letting me see his body. I knew he was trying to disgust me, to insult me. From that day on, I started trying to change. Liam loved soda, so I filled the fridge with it. He loved to see my pained expression when I drank soda, so he forced me to drink can after can. My throat burned like fire, and I looked at Liam through teary eyes. Over time, I actually started to like soda. Liam, then, found it boring. Later, on our fourth wedding anniversary, he unexpectedly gave me a motorcycle. “Here, Chloe Sterling. Since you love me so much, come ride with me!” “You’re not scared, are you?” My heart churned as I touched the motorcycle, but I kept a brave face. “What’s there to be scared of? I’ve already gone skydiving with you, this is nothing!” Liam’s lips curved into a smile, and he took me to the most dangerous cliffside road in the city. I followed him on my bike, the wind making my legs tremble. Liam was definitely doing this on purpose. He knew I had a fear of heights. “Chloe Sterling, if you can follow me around this track today, I’ll promise to be a proper husband. Do you dare?”

He looked at me provocatively, his contemptuous and disdainful gaze clearly visible through the helmet visor. “What, what’s there to be, to be scared of? Let’s go!” The roar of the engine drowned out his mockery, and the motorcycle exhaust stung my nostrils. I revved the engine and sped up, determined to fight for a new life. Cleaning up the soda spilled on the table, I picked up Leo’s leftover sandwich, eating it as I turned to the next page. [May 20, 2020, Sunday, Cloudy What right does Chloe Sterling have to demand I spend Valentine’s Day with her? That incident was just an accident, I don’t feel guilty at all. Besides, Chloe Sterling just had a kidney removed, she’s not dying. Why are both the Sterling and Thorne families fawning over her? I think she’s just being overly dramatic.] I closed the diary, shaking my head with a bitter smile. Thanks to Liam Thorne, I’d had one kidney removed, making my life much more inconvenient afterward. My memory drifted back to that cliffside road. The winding mountain road was narrow and winding; for a novice, completing the entire route was impossible. I could only cling to Liam’s trail, staring at the back I had chased for years, trying to boost my own spirits. But fate, however, had other plans. After a sharp turn, a large pothole appeared on the road. I slammed on the brakes in fright, and the inertia sent me flying off the bike. When I woke up again, I was already on the operating table. Under the glaring fluorescent lights, several doctors stood, their faces grim, operating on me. Eight hours of surgery. I passed out, woke up, passed out again. It wasn’t until I was moved to a regular ward that I fully understood. After I was thrown off the cliff, a tree branch had punctured my left kidney. Mom held my hand, crying uncontrollably. “Chloe, don’t blame me. If your left kidney isn’t removed, you won’t live!” I looked at her swollen, red eyes, my heart aching as I gently stroked her hand. Later, I stayed in the hospital for three months. During this time, Liam only came once, secretly peeking at me from the doorway before leaving. Actually, I knew it all. I was taken back to the Sterling family estate to recover, and Mom and Dad still doted on me like I was their precious gem. But my heart felt hollow. I understood then: it no longer beat for Liam Thorne. Two days before May 20, 2020, I sent Liam a SnapChat message. “Spend Valentine’s Day with me, and I’ll set you free.” On May 20, I waited for him at the restaurant where I had held my coming-of-age party. I thought he’d rush over, eager to get his freedom. But by the time the restaurant closed, he still hadn’t arrived. I called him, but the line was busy. I laughed at myself bitterly. I’d overestimated my importance. Stepping out of the restaurant, a blast of cold air hit me, making me sneeze. “Chloe Sterling, it’s so cold, why aren’t you dressed warmer?” A familiar scarf was slipped around my neck. I looked up. It was Liam. He still looked so impatient. But he had come, to claim his freedom. That night, we drank a lot. He spent the entire night telling me how much he detested me. He hated me so much he couldn’t even find a comfortable way to kiss me. He hated me so much he was afraid of hurting me when we got intimate. Yes, after that night, we finally started acting like a married couple. He would occasionally wake up early to make me breakfast. He would sometimes join me for walks by the river. I finally lived the life I had dreamed of for a while. But… why did I suddenly find it so boring? On August 20, 2020, our fifth wedding anniversary. That day, I kept my promise and divorced him. There was no cooling-off period; the day after we finalized the divorce. I vanished.

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The day Caleb Thorne’s high school sweetheart returned to the States marked exactly three years of me playing Support for him. He told me to step aside and advised, “Your macro awareness is just too poor. Riley is a much better fit for me.” Everyone in the league said that if it wasn’t for Caleb, someone of my skill level would never have made it onto a pro roster. They said I was dragging him down. And Riley? She was the one who actually had a chance to help him win the World Championship. So, on the day I packed my bags and left, a friend asked him, “You’re not going to go after her?” Caleb just laughed it off, completely unbothered. “Let her learn her lesson. She’ll be back.” Until one day, someone jokingly suggested they wanted to hear me grovel and apologize to him over the phone on speaker. Uncharacteristically, Caleb agreed and dialed my number. But the moment the call connected, a lazy, raspy male voice answered instead: “She’s in the shower. “In… my room.” Rumor has it that Caleb shattered his wine glass right then and there, bolting from the banquet like a madman. 1 The day Caleb’s high school sweetheart flew back from the European circuit was exactly our three-year anniversary as a bot-lane duo. He threw a massive welcome party for her at the team facility. He invited everyone. Except me. He told me to stay in my room and “reflect on my mistakes.” Pop— Confetti cannons erupted in the living room downstairs. Every word drifting up the stairs was dripping with praise for Riley Mercer. “You’re a legend, Caleb! You actually managed to poach the top female Support in the West!” “With Riley backing us up, next year’s World Championship is practically in the bag!” “Cheers to the birth of our new golden bot-lane couple!” Riley Mercer. The star female Support player. She had a glowing track record and great mechanics. Though she hadn’t secured a World title yet, the entire organization believed her addition would be the push Frost Wolves (FW) needed to break their bottleneck. After all, everyone assumed that if I hadn’t been dragging them down, the championship trophy would already be sitting on Caleb’s shelf. Even Caleb himself had said it: “Your macro awareness is just too poor, Chloe. Riley is a much better fit for me. “Only Riley has the potential to help me win Worlds. “Chloe, give up your starting roster spot.” …… 2 Caleb knew exactly what a starting roster spot meant to a professional esports player. Yet, when he heard me refuse, he just stared at me with cold, calculating eyes. “Chloe, can you stop throwing a tantrum for once? “Can’t you be a team player? Just stay in your room and think about your attitude.” Because of that, when I walked out of my room and appeared suddenly at the top of the stairs, Caleb’s eyes flashed with the impatience of someone whose authority had been challenged. “What are you doing down here?” Riley peeked out from behind him, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Caleb, who is this?” “No one,” Caleb frowned, his tone instantly softening to reassure her. “Just a substitute.” As he spoke, he subtly took a step forward, using his body to block my line of sight to Riley. It was a defensive posture, as if I were some kind of monster about to strike. Just a substitute… My hands balled into fists at my sides, a sharp, suffocating ache spreading through my chest. Satisfied with Caleb’s answer, Riley let out a soft “Oh,” then stepped out from behind him and enthusiastically extended her hand toward me. She smiled. “Hi, I’m Riley Mercer. I’m FW’s new starting Support.” Her smile was laced with condescension, and she made sure to heavily emphasize the word starting. Looking at her bright, beautiful face, and then at Caleb standing in front of her with a warning glare fixed on me, my mind flooded with memories. I remembered the countless fights Caleb and I had after Riley announced her return to the States. “Look at other teams’ Supports, and then look at you! “Chloe, why can’t you just learn from Riley? “If you had even a third of her game sense, we wouldn’t have lost that last match!” He had probably been planning to replace me for a long time. Suddenly, the questions I had been agonizing over didn’t need to be asked anymore. I already had the answers. A strange sense of relief washed over me. I had known Caleb for ten years. Chased the esports dream with him for seven. Dated him for five. Fought alongside him on the professional stage for three. I thought we’d be partners forever. I never expected the cord to snap this easily. …… 3 I raised my eyes and looked at Riley calmly. “Hi, I’m Chloe Bennett. I’m nobody’s substitute. As of this exact second, I am officially leaving FW.” The entire team house went dead silent. Caleb’s head snapped toward me, his brows knitted in fury. “Do you even know what you’re saying?” His expression was dark. I knew exactly why he was furious. He was warning me not to test his patience. If this were the past, out of respect for his position as Captain and to avoid causing drama for the team, I would have lowered my head and backed down. But now… “I’ve already spoken with upper management to terminate my contract.” I bypassed him, handing a stack of folders to Manager Davis. “These are all the signed release forms. Keep them safe.” “Chloe!” Caleb’s sharp voice stopped me in my tracks. “Think this through. If you leave me, what organization is going to want you? Do you have any idea—” “I know,” I chuckled lightly, cutting him off. I shot a meaningful glance at Riley standing behind him and answered a question he hadn’t asked. “Don’t worry. I won’t bother you anymore.” The subtext was clear: We’re breaking up, Caleb. I’m dumping you. Caleb’s face turned an ugly shade of pale. He was so furious he practically gritted his teeth as he delivered his final warning: “I’m not going to tolerate your little temper tantrums this time, Chloe. If you walk out that door, do not regret it!” He honestly believed this was just a bluff, that I would eventually crawl back and apologize like I always did. The only answer he got was the sight of my back as I walked away. In every single argument we’d ever had, the conflict only ended because I was the “good girlfriend.” Whether it was our synergy in the game or our dynamic in real life, Caleb had never compromised for me. Not even once. So what was this about him tolerating me? As I pushed open the front doors of the facility, I raised my hand to block out the blinding sunlight, walking away without a single ounce of hesitation. Behind me, I could faintly hear the sound of something shattering violently against the floor. …… 4 After leaving the FW facility, I wandered the streets aimlessly for three days. During that time, I reached out to numerous teams, but every single one of them gave me polite, evasive rejections. It wasn’t until a female manager from a mid-tier team took pity on me that I found out the truth. She called me privately and confessed that Caleb had already put the word out. He had blacklisted me across the league. No one was going to take me in. After hanging up, I clenched my fists until my knuckles turned white, eventually letting out a hollow, self-deprecating laugh. So this was what he meant by “do not regret it.” Caleb came from old money. His family was rich and deeply connected. When he first started playing professionally, it was little more than a hobby for a bored rich kid. But as he started winning, that hobby evolved into a dream. Even though more and more female players have been entering the esports scene in recent years, the mountain of prejudice still forces most women into the Support role. The community loves to act magnanimous, patting themselves on the back for allowing a woman on the roster. But at the same time, they are incredibly stingy. They only feel comfortable placing women in roles they perceive as “low-impact.” It’s an unspoken rule: everyone just assumes female players are biologically inferior to men when it comes to mechanical skill. They’d rather strip women of their infinite potential than trust them to carry the game. Just like with Caleb and me. No matter what actually happened on the server, whenever we lost a match, the vitriol was always aimed at me: “This is why girls shouldn’t play. Why did they draft a female Support?!” “Is she sleeping with the managers to keep her roster spot?” “Go back to the kitchen, stop ruining our games!” Not once did anyone question if Caleb made the wrong macro call. Compared to other male ADCs in the league, Caleb faced almost zero criticism. And the only reason for that was because his Support was me—and I happened to be a woman. …… 5 On the fifth day of my fruitless job hunt, just as I was starting to doubt whether I was truly cut out for esports, someone completely unexpected showed up. Captain of Ghost Town (GT) and FW’s biggest rival. Hunter Vance. Before I could even process what was happening, he casually greeted the owner of the local burger joint, grabbed two cans of soda from the cooler, and slid into the booth across from me. He cracked one open with one hand, slid it over to me, and lounged back, sipping from the other. He looked so relaxed you’d think he was nursing a cold beer on a beach. I just stared at him, totally bewildered. Seeing me frozen, he lazily lifted an eyebrow. “Our org bans alcohol during the season.” He paused, frowning slightly. “Did you want a beer? I mean, I can pay the fine if we get caught…” He muttered something else under his breath that I didn’t catch. The whole situation felt absurd. “What are you doing here?” I asked. Hunter and I weren’t exactly friends, but we weren’t strangers either. As opponents, we’d nod at each other backstage and shake hands after matches. That was the extent of it. But I knew his reputation. Just like Caleb, he was the face of his franchise. A superstar. But where Caleb played the gentle, polished nice guy for the cameras, Hunter had a very different label: “A serious face hiding a totally chaotic, trash-talking esports bad boy.” And he had a venomous tongue. Just like right now. He set his soda down, looking at me with a half-smile. “Unemployed? Packing up to go work on a farm? “Getting too old? Hands too slow? “Honestly, watching you and Caleb play the bot lane… I could scatter birdseed on my keyboard, and a pigeon would have better movement than you two.” Me: “……” And here I thought he came to comfort me. Hunter seemed to read my mind. He scoffed, giving me a side-eye. “What are you expecting? I’m not that fake nice-guy Caleb, playing to the cameras and running a charity.” Me: “……” In the span of thirty seconds, he absolutely verbally dismantled me. It was a stark reminder of why pro players are often called “keyboard warriors.” I tried to argue back at first, but eventually, I was reduced to just nodding aggressively like a turtle, deeply agreeing with his roast. Hunter found this highly amusing. He laughed and muttered, “Useless.” Then, he pulled an unlit cigarette from his pocket, held it between his lips, and asked me with the casualness of discussing the weather: “Hey, loser. Wanna join our team?” I nodded numbly, taking a solid ten seconds to process the words before my head snapped up. I stared at him in utter shock. “W-what did you just say?” My heart started hammering against my ribs. I was terrified. Terrified that he was just mocking me in my lowest moment, but also terrified that my own cowardice would make me miss this lifeline. I nervously fumbled for words. “B-but your roster is full, isn’t it?” GT was a stacked roster. They didn’t even need substitutes. “Management is making some roster changes,” Hunter said smoothly. He picked up his soda again. But when he met my wide, panicked eyes, he slowly set it back down. He ground his teeth. “What is that look? Give me a straight answer. Yes or no. Or I’m taking the offer off the table.” He looked incredibly annoyed, like a dad scolding his disappointing kid. But I didn’t care. The only words that registered in my brain were taking the offer off the table. Instinctively, I lunged forward and grabbed his hand across the table, shouting, “I’m in! I’m in! Please don’t take it back!” My yelling earned us some weird looks from the other tables. Hunter just stared down at where my hands were gripping his for a solid thirty seconds. Then, he cleared his throat awkwardly and muttered, “Keep it down.” Thinking he was disgusted by the physical contact, I quickly pulled my hands back and sat up perfectly straight. But as I followed him out of the diner and walked behind him toward the GT team house, I noticed the back of his neck was violently red. Hunter reached up, rubbed the back of his neck, and cursed under his breath, “Damn heat. It’s too hot today.” ……

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It was the third year of the Extreme Cold Apocalypse. I barely kept the indoor temperature above freezing, thanks to my stash of anthracite coal. My mother-in-law, Eleanor, who had fled to my house, dumped all the coal down the drain while I was asleep. I woke up freezing and confronted her. She just pointed indignantly at the “lucky crystal” she’d brought. “The spiritual advisor said all these dark, gloomy things in the house were blocking our luck and prosperity. They had to go.” To “attract good fortune” in this apocalypse, she even tore off the insulation panels I’d used to seal the windows. “Good luck has to come in through the windows! You sealed them all off, do you want us all to starve to death?” Ethan, my husband, wrapped in my warmest down jacket, stood by, nodding and praising his mother for doing the right thing. He had stuck all my remaining hand warmers onto his rare collectible action figures, terrified the plastic might become brittle and crack. “These are limited editions. Our future depends on them appreciating in value. What’s a little chill for you?”

At three in the morning, I woke up, shivering. An icy cold seeped through my heavy sleeping bag, biting into my bones. The digital thermometer on the wall showed a chilling red number: -5°C. Just half an hour ago, when I fell asleep, it had been +8°C. The only heat source, the coal stove in the living room, was out. I grabbed my jacket and rushed out of the bedroom. In the living room, Eleanor was using my last iron shovel, laboriously prying open the sewer cover, dumping shovelful after shovelful of black coal into it. The ton of anthracite coal I’d piled in the corner, enough for the three of us to survive the winter, was already more than half gone. The sewage mixed with coal dust gave off a nauseating stench. “Stop!” I yelled, my voice hoarse from the cold and fury. Eleanor jumped, and the shovel clanged to the ground. Instead of looking guilty, she straightened up, pointed at me, and snapped, “You jinx! What are you doing up in the middle of the night? Trying to scare me to death?” I looked at the coal, now turned into sludge in the sewer, and my vision blurred with rage. “That’s our coal! Our only way to survive the cold! What are you doing?” “Of course I know!” Eleanor put her hands on her hips, indignant, and pointed to a brand new golden idol of prosperity she had enshrined in the center of the table. “The mystic said there were too many dark things in the house blocking our luck! Look how gloomy this place is. How is the God of Prosperity supposed to come in?” That golden idol was the only “luggage” she and Ethan had brought when they fled to my house yesterday. The bedroom door opened, and Ethan, my husband, walked out, wrapped in my thickest goose down jacket. He yawned sleepily, saw what was happening, and didn’t stop Eleanor. Instead, he frowned at me. “Sarah, why are you yelling at Mom? She’s only trying to help us.” I let out a dry, humorless laugh, pointing at the half-empty coal pile. “Trying to help us? She threw away all the coal! We’ll freeze to death tonight, the three of us. Is that ‘helping’ us?” Ethan waved his hand impatiently. “It’s just a little coal, isn’t it? Go find some more. Mom brought the idol so we can turn our lives around. What do you know?” As he spoke, he carefully walked to the glass display cabinet by the wall, pulled out a few hand warmers from his jacket, and meticulously stuck them to the bases of his precious action figures. “These are all limited editions. With the temperature outside, the plastic can easily get brittle. What if they crack?” He didn’t even look up. “If these appreciate in value, our whole family will rely on them to make a fortune. You’re just a woman, what’s a little chill to you?” I looked at his self-righteous face, then at Eleanor, who wore a ‘I’m thinking of you’ expression. A shiver ran down my spine, though not from the cold. Just then, Eleanor started a new action. She walked to the window and began ripping off the multi-layer thermal reflective film I had painstakingly installed three years ago, a task that had taken incredible effort. “This has to go too!” she said, tearing it. “Windows are where good luck enters! You sealed them off completely! How’s the God of Prosperity supposed to come in? Do you want us all to freeze to death?” “Screech—” A harsh tearing sound echoed, and a large gap appeared in the thermal film. Instantly, a white stream of icy air surged in through the opening, and the indoor thermometer plummeted. -6°C… -8°C… -10°C… Ethan shivered, pulling my down jacket tighter. But he still nodded. “Mom’s right. This really should come off.”

I didn’t argue with them anymore. I silently watched the numbers on the thermometer drop from -10°C all the way to -15°C. Eleanor and Ethan finally started to feel the cold. “Oh no, why… why is it so cold?” Eleanor rubbed her arms, her teeth chattering. Ethan was also shaking with cold. He looked at me, his voice demanding, “Sarah, don’t you have other things to warm us up? Get them out now! Do you want to freeze us to death?” Three years ago, when the Extreme Cold Apocalypse hit, they, mother and son, immediately took all my savings and fled into an official climate-controlled human base. They abandoned me in this house, which I had personally renovated, leaving me to fend for myself. For three years, they thought I had died in some forgotten corner, never once checking on me. But then, three days ago, they appeared at my door, looking haggard and defeated, claiming the base had kicked them out. I looked at their thin clothes and faces, purple with cold, and actually felt a moment of weakness, relenting and letting them in. Now it seemed this was the most foolish mistake I had made in three years. I ignored Ethan’s shouts and turned to my tool shed, dragging out a disassembled solid wood table. I had originally planned to use it to reinforce the fences once spring arrived. I took out an axe and silently chopped the table legs and tabletop into pieces suitable for the stove. “Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!” Dull thudding sounds of chopping wood echoed in the silent, cold room. Eleanor and Ethan watched me, their eyes filled with confusion and disdain. “Sarah, what are you doing? Burning furniture? Are you crazy? That’s terrible luck!” “You’ve managed to survive this long, so your conditions can’t be bad. Are you just trying to provoke us?” Eleanor shrieked. “Exactly! You must be hiding good stuff; don’t think we don’t know!” Ethan chimed in. “Quick, get out the good coal! This rotten wood creates so much smoke, it’s suffocating! What if it damages my action figures? Can you even afford to replace them?” I said nothing, just mechanically chopped the wood. Soon, the stove was re-lit. Orange flames surged, bringing a long-awaited warmth. But the thick smoke from burning wood quickly spread, filling the entire house with a choking smell. The thermometer numbers slowly climbed back to -8°C, but didn’t rise further. The heat value of burning wood was far inferior to anthracite coal. Eleanor and Ethan coughed repeatedly, tears streaming from their eyes. “Cough, cough, cough… Sarah! I order you! Put this fire out immediately! Get out your good stuff!” Ethan yelled at me, covering his mouth and nose. “Yes! Hurry! If it ruins my God of Prosperity, can you bear the responsibility?” Eleanor echoed. I stopped chopping wood and slowly lifted my head, my gaze sweeping over their faces, red from lack of oxygen. Then, I walked to the corner and picked up a 20-liter spare gasoline can. I unscrewed the cap, and the heavy smell of gasoline instantly overpowered the smoke from the wood. Eleanor and Ethan’s faces changed. “You… what are you going to do?” Ethan’s voice held a trace of fear. I didn’t answer. I just carried the gasoline can, step by step, to his glass display cabinet. His “limited edition” action figures inside the cabinet looked cold and rigid in the dim firelight. “Don’t… don’t touch my action figures!” Ethan’s body tensed. I tilted the gasoline can slightly. “Splash—” Amber liquid poured onto the top of the glass cabinet, slowly seeping through the cracks.

“Ahhh—! My action figures!” Ethan let out a desperate shriek, lunging at me like a madman to snatch the gasoline can from my hand. I sidestepped, easily avoiding him. His emaciated body couldn’t even touch a single one of my fingers. “Sarah! You lunatic! If you touch my action figures, I’ll kill you!” His eyes were bloodshot, his face contorted in a grimace. Eleanor was also dumbfounded, pointing at me, her lips trembling, unable to utter a word. I watched Ethan coldly, placed the gasoline can on the ground, and then pulled a lighter from my pocket. “Click.” A small, orange flame danced at my fingertips. “Both of you, go get all the coal from the sewer. Not a single piece missing,” I said, my voice calm. Ethan’s body froze. Eleanor’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You want us to dig in the sewer? That’s disgusting! No way!” “Exactly! Sarah, don’t go too far!” Ethan snarled, though his voice lacked conviction. “Do you think I’m afraid of you? Go ahead and light it! These action figures are worth a house! If you dare to burn them, I’ll make sure you spend the rest of your life in jail!” He was talking about pre-apocalypse prices. In this era, a house was worth less than a single compressed food bar. I didn’t bother with more words. I simply moved the lighter forward gently. The flame instantly licked at the gasoline-soaked glass cabinet. “Whoosh—” Blue flames roared to life, engulfing the entire cabinet in an instant. Choking black smoke billowed upwards, and the stench of burning plastic was nauseating. Ethan’s pupils contracted violently in the firelight. “No—!” He let out a desperate wail, collapsing to the ground, watching in despair as his “limited editions” twisted and melted in the fierce flames, turning into puddles of black liquid. Eleanor also collapsed to the ground in terror, a foul odor emanating from her pants. She had actually peed herself. I watched it all until the entire cabinet was reduced to a charred skeleton, then extinguished the flames with a fire extinguisher. The room was a mess. The temperature began to drop again. I turned around, looked at the dazed mother and son, and repeated my words. “Go, retrieve the coal.” This time, no one argued. Ethan looked like his soul had been sucked out, his eyes vacant. Eleanor, in extreme fear, trembled uncontrollably. I walked up to her and shoved the cold iron shovel into her hand. “Go.” Eleanor flinched, almost dropping the shovel again. She looked up at me, her eyes full of fear and pleading. They had personally destroyed our shared path to survival; they would have to personally retrieve it. Under my stare, Eleanor tremblingly picked up the shovel and a bucket, and with a zombie-like Ethan, walked towards the foul-smelling sewer. The cold, viscous sewage quickly soaked their pant legs. Eleanor retched, but seeing me standing not far away, she gritted her teeth and plunged the shovel into the sludge. The task of retrieving the coal was harder than expected. The sewer contained not only coal dust but also three years’ worth of various household waste and excrement. Every shovelful Eleanor and Ethan pulled out was like digging up a putrid piece of evidence from hell. Eleanor threw up several times, eventually even spitting up bile. Ethan remained silent throughout, mechanically repeating the digging and dumping motions. Suddenly, Ethan tripped over something in the sewer and let out a terrified scream. “Ah! Something! Something’s biting me!”

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For six years, I hauled the dead out of city basements and off hot asphalt. I worked the night shift for a body removal service, letting the stench of decay settle so deep into my pores that no amount of bleach could scrub it away. I did it for one reason: to pay for my sister’s leukemia treatments. Today, I finally had the last of the money. But as I stood in the hospital hallway, my sister, Hedy, looked at me with a chilling nonchalance. She didn’t need the surgery, she said. She wasn’t sick. Our parents weren’t dead. The car accident six years ago? She’d orchestrated the whole thing. I was the only one who actually bled that day, the only one left permanently mangled while they watched from the sidelines. Then came the second blow. My wife, Isla, stepped forward. She wasn’t bankrupt, and those late nights at the “office” weren’t for overtime. She’d been retreating to her private estate because she couldn’t stand the sight of our cramped, moldy basement apartment—or me. “We were going to keep the game going for another three years,” Isla said, waving a hand in front of her nose as if I were a piece of rotting meat. “But the smell of the morgue on you… it’s nauseating. Neither of us can take it anymore.” I stood there, my hand frozen over the check meant for her life-saving surgery. A wave of pure, concentrated absurdity washed over me, so cold it burned. Hedy snatched the check from my numb fingers and tossed it into a nearby trash can. “There’s no money left in your accounts anyway, Wayne. I’ve been rerouting your ‘death money’ to the homeless for years. Think of it as karma for your dead child. You earn a living off the dead—it’s bad luck. We wouldn’t touch a cent of it.” My blood turned to ice. I didn’t understand. I couldn’t wrap my head around the why. Then my parents appeared. They stood at the end of the hall, huddled together as if I were a leper. My father spoke first, his voice hard. “It was the only way, Wayne. You were a spoiled brat, always picking on Landon. We had to break you. We had to make you humble.” My mother nodded, her eyes devoid of warmth. “If you swear to never lay a finger on Landon again, you can be our son. Otherwise, we’re done.” As the world blurred and my heart gave its final, jagged beat of hope, a cold, mechanical voice echoed in my mind. It was the System, sounding almost… pitying. Do you wish to abandon the mission? Do you wish to leave this world behind? … 1 “Take me out.” I bit down on the inside of my cheek until I tasted copper. The pain was the only thing keeping me upright. [Confirmed. Departure in T-minus twenty-four hours.] Isla, seeing my silence, reached out to brush a tear from my eye. Her touch felt like a centipede crawling on my skin. “Do you finally get it? If you hadn’t fought Landon for our parents’ love, if you hadn’t tried to hurt him over and over, we could have been a happy family of three.” I shoved her hand away, a raw, guttural scream tearing from my throat. “You don’t get to talk about a ‘family of three’! Landon cut the brake lines! My son died because of him!” Isla’s expression remained terrifyingly placid. “The baby didn’t die, Wayne. I gave him to Landon the second he was born. Stop blaming him for your delusions.” The air left my lungs. It took seconds for my brain to process the words. “You… what did you say?” Isla looked at me as if I were a slow child. “He’s my heir. You didn’t honestly think I’d let him grow up in a basement with a man who hauls corpses? Landon is kind. Our son is better off with him.” I stood paralyzed. The cold was absolute now. Six years ago, I woke up from that crash with a shattered body and a broken spirit. Isla had been there, eyes red, telling me it was my fault we were out that night. She told me the baby was stillborn, that our parents were gone. Hedy had played the grieving sister, drowning her “sorrow” in booze until she “developed” cancer. The System had asked me then if I wanted to leave. The mission—to gain their love—was technically a failure. But I stayed. I dragged my broken body to the darkest jobs in the city, enduring the stares and the smell, all to save a sister who wasn’t dying and support a wife who was secretly laughing at me. It was all a joke. My chest ached so hard I thought my ribs might snap. “Why?” I whispered, tears leaking out. “Why not just lie to me until the day I died?” “Because Landon wants a daughter now,” Hedy said, her voice dripping with a terrifying maternal fondness for a man who wasn’t her brother. “The procedure for him is too invasive. He shouldn’t have to suffer. So, we need you one last time.” 2 I stared at them, my vision swimming. They weren’t people. They were monsters wearing the faces of those I loved. “Landon has suffered enough, Wayne. We just want to give him what he wants. Be a good boy. We can always have more children later.” Isla ruffled my hair, the gesture so patronizing it made me want to retch. “And this is your chance to prove to Mom and Dad that you’ve changed. Show them you won’t bully Landon anymore.” Landon had suffered? I thought of the dark closet in my foster home. I thought of the red-hot fire poker the woman used on me while she screamed that her son—the real Landon—was living my high-society life while I rotted. I yanked up my sleeves, exposing the jagged, silver scars that mapped my forearms. “Who suffered? You told me you’d make them pay! You said you’d never let me be hurt again—” “Wayne, stop lying!” Hedy snapped, slapping my arm away. I was malnourished and weak; the force sent me stumbling back until my hip collided with the sharp edge of a table. “Landon’s birth mother said no one ever laid a finger on you,” Hedy sneered. “Those scars? You got those fighting in alleys with delinquents when you were a teenager. You were always a rebel.” My parents scoffed in the background. “Nature over nurture,” my father muttered. “We didn’t raise him, and it shows. He’s a born liar. He’s not fit to be a father.” I stared at them, the metallic taste of blood rising in my throat. “I’m not fit? But the son of a human trafficker is a saint?” “Shut up!” Hedy’s eyes turned predatory. “How dare you? If Landon heard that, he’d be devastated.” She lunged forward, grabbing my arm with a grip like a vice. “Clearly, these six years haven’t taught you enough.” She forced my head down, her strength surprising me, and shoved me toward a large wooden shipping crate in the corner of the room. The moment the lid slammed shut, my breath died. Four years ago, while on a job, a grieving family had played a sick prank. They’d locked me in a casket with a fresh cadaver for three days. I had spent seventy-two hours nose-to-nose with the scent of rotting meat and silence. I’d developed a paralyzing, screaming case of claustrophobia that day. “Let me out! Please! I’m sorry! Help me!” I clawed at the wood, my words dissolving into frantic whimpers. I scraped my fingers against the seams until all ten of my fingernails were torn to the quick, the wood slick with my blood. Finally, the latch clicked. The lid opened. I spilled out, sobbing, clutching at Hedy’s ankles. “Please, don’t put me back. I’ll die, I’ll die—” Hedy retracted her foot as if I were a stray dog. “Stop the drama, Wayne. It’s pathetic.” She looked down at me, her expression bored. “Every client you worked for these last few years? I hand-picked them. I told them to be tough on you to build your character. Nobody actually hurt you.” The room tilted. “You… you arranged them?” Memories flashed: “Kneel. Crawl between my legs and bark like a dog, or you don’t get paid.” “Drink these ten shots of rotgut, and I might give you an extra hundred.” 3 The insults. The bottles smashed over my head. The most degrading moments of my life—all choreographed by my sister. “So what?” Hedy said. “I wanted you to learn empathy. To walk a mile in someone else’s shoes. Without my ‘training,’ you wouldn’t be ready to come home.” Isla stepped forward, her voice like silk. “Tonight, Landon is hosting a charity gala. You’re coming. We need you there so the world finally stops whispering that Landon is the son of a kidnapper. If they see you two together, the rumors die.” She looked at me with a spark of something that might have been pity, if she were human. “You always wanted a real wedding, didn’t you, Wayne? Give Landon a daughter, and I’ll give you a wedding that will be the talk of the Hamptons.” It was the same promise she’d made me under the moonlight years ago. Now, it was just the bait on a hook. A neon countdown flickered in my peripheral vision: [12 hours remaining.] I lowered my head, burying the white-hot rage deep in my gut. When I looked up, the brokenness was gone, replaced by a hollow, terrifying calm. “Fine. I’ll go.” The gala was a sea of black ties and silk. The second I stepped in, the press swarmed. “Mr. Callahan, you’ve been underground for years. What’s the status of the ‘True Heir’ vs. ‘The Imposter’? Have you made peace?” My mother shoved a piece of paper into my hand, whispering harshly, “Read it. Word for word.” I looked down. [I was never kidnapped. I was a rebellious child who ran away. Landon’s mother was a saint who took me in. I’ve spent these years in seclusion, reflecting on my cruelty toward Landon. I am the one who is unworthy.] “Read it,” my father hissed. “Peace?” I whispered. My hands tightened on the paper. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, I ripped it into shreds and let them fall like snow. “Why would I make peace with the son of the woman who tortured me?” The room went dead silent. The flashbulbs stopped. I locked eyes with Landon, who was standing center-stage, looking like the golden boy they all thought he was. “Why don’t you tell them, Landon? You stole my name for twenty years. Now you’ve stolen my wife and my son. Is there anything left of mine you don’t want?” Gasps rippled through the hall. Landon didn’t even flinch. He waited exactly one second, then his eyes welled with tears. He looked like the victim of a grand tragedy. “Wayne… why do you keep doing this to me?” He reached into his tuxedo jacket and pulled out a small, navy-blue book. “I am Isla’s legal husband,” he said, his voice trembling. “You’re the one who’s been the interloper.” My brain shrieked. I lunged forward, snatching the marriage license. There it was, in elegant calligraphy: Isla Sterling and Landon Callahan. The reason she never showed me our certificate. The “safe deposit box” lie. The blood drained from my face. I turned to Isla. “Names don’t matter, Wayne,” she said, her voice loud enough for the room to hear. “I loved you in my own way, but Landon needed a legacy. You stole his birthright; we just gave him back a life in this city.” Hedy stepped up, her face a mask of disappointment. “I’m sorry, everyone. My brother has struggled with his mental health for years. Delusions of grandeur. Please, ignore him.” The pity in the room turned to disgust. 4 “He’s a psycho,” someone whispered. “Imagine trying to ruin a man like Landon.” “You’re a bad man! Stop hurting my daddy!” A small boy, no older than five, burst from the crowd. He charged at me, headbutting me with enough force to send me sprawling to the marble floor. One look at his eyes, and I knew. He was mine. My son. I reached out, my hands shaking, wanting to hold him just once. Hedy stepped between us, her heel narrowly missing my fingers. She leaned down, whispering in my ear. “He’s Landon’s now, Wayne. And if you try to take him, I’ll show him the video.” My voice was a thready rasp. “But he’s my son.” She pulled out her phone and hit play. The screen blurred, but I recognized the alleyway. It was three years ago, a night I’d tried to come home early from the morgue. A group of men had dragged me into the shadows. I’d screamed for Hedy, hoping she’d come for me. The video showed the nightmare. My dignity being shredded in the dirt. A sob broke out of me, a spray of blood hitting the floor. “You knew… you knew they actually did it? It wasn’t just ‘acting’!” “Stop it,” Hedy said, her voice cold. “I hired those men to scare you. They wouldn’t have actually touched a Callahan. You’re just making up stories to make us feel guilty so we’ll get rid of Landon. I don’t know why you hate him so much.” My heart hammered against my ribs. Who hated whom? The System countdown flashed: [5 hours.] There was no point in arguing. The exit was close. Suddenly, a fist slammed into my jaw. Then another. “Home-wrecker!” someone yelled. It started with one man, then a surge. Men whose wives had cheated, people looking for a scapegoat, all fueled by the “delusional psycho” narrative Hedy had spun. I curled into a ball as the kicks rained down. My lip split. My ribs cracked. Hedy’s face flickered with a brief moment of alarm. She started to move toward me, but Landon suddenly gasped, clutching his chest. “Hedy… too many people… I can’t breathe…” The tide turned instantly. “Oh honey, don’t look,” my mother cried, rushing to Landon. “Isla, help him!” Isla glanced at me, then at the trembling Landon. She hesitated for a heartbeat. “Wayne, they’re just venting. You’ll be fine.” She turned her back on me to follow Landon. Hedy lingered for a second, then scooped Landon up in her arms and walked away. The crowd closed in. “Scum! Did you sleep with my wife too? Let’s see how pretty you are after this!” A heavy boot landed between my legs, a sickening crunch echoing in my ears. I felt a hot, wet explosion of pain. Blood began to pool under me, staining the white marble. I vomited blood, my vision fading into a hazy grey. By the time I crawled back to the “family” estate, my parents were fussing over Landon on the sofa. When they saw me, their faces soured. 5 “Are you still doing this?” my father sighed. “Looking like a mess just to get attention?” Isla’s eyes were full of irritation. “Don’t look at us like that. If you hadn’t tried to embarrass Landon, he wouldn’t have had to go public with the marriage. He’s always thinking of you, Wayne. Be a man and apologize.” Every step I took felt like treading on broken glass. My internal organs were a symphony of agony. I didn’t have the breath to fight her. Landon reached out, grabbing my hand, his grip surprisingly strong. “Wayne, look at you. You’re a mess.” He leaned in, his voice a whisper only I could hear. “I’m bored with your son. Give me a daughter. I need something new to play with. If I’m in a good mood, I might give the boy back before I break him.” Something snapped. The last tether of my sanity ignited. I swung my fist at his smug, beautiful face. SLAP! My head whipped to the side. The taste of iron filled my mouth. Hedy stood over me, her eyes like chips of ice. “Have you no shame? Attacking him right in front of us? When will you stop being so selfish?” “Don’t hurt my daddy!” My son—Toby—lunged forward. He was holding a silver appetizer fork. He slammed it into my abdomen. He didn’t expect it to actually go in. His face went pale as the silver tines disappeared into my sweater. But he held his ground, glaring at me with Landon’s taught hatred. The world went dark for a second. The pain in my stomach was nothing compared to the hole in my chest. “You protect him because you think he’s your father,” I wheezed. “But Toby… what if I told you that I’m—” “Shut up!” My father threw his crystal whiskey glass. It shattered against my temple, blood instantly blinding my left eye. “Don’t you dare fill the boy’s head with your lies!” Toby sneered, his voice high and cruel. “You? My dad? You’re a body-hauler. You smell like death. If you were my dad, I’d rather be dead.” Hedy pulled out her phone, the screen showing the video of my assault in the alley. “Apologize, Wayne. Record a video recanting everything. Or I’ll post this on every social media platform in the world. You’ll be a joke forever.” I started to laugh. It was a wet, ragged sound that turned into a cough of blood. “Don’t bother threatening me anymore, Hedy. I’ll do it for you.” I took the phone. My thumb hovered over the screen. Send to all. Hedy froze, confused. Before she could react, I turned and scrambled onto the windowsill of the sixteenth-floor study. Behind me, the room finally erupted in panic. “Wayne, what are you doing?” my mother screamed. “Get down! This isn’t funny!” Isla’s face was white. “We won’t give the daughter away, Wayne! We’ll keep her! Just… don’t do this!” I smiled, shaking my head. There won’t be a daughter. Hedy, ever the cynic, crossed her arms. “He’s bluffing. He wants us to beg. He knows we care, so he’s using suicide to manipulate us.” She took a step forward. “Get down, Wayne. No matter how much you scream, you’re apologizing to Landon today.” The cold night air rushed in, whipping my hair. The System’s voice chimed in my skull. [Host, time is up. You may leave.] I looked at the four people who had systematically dismantled my life and gave them a hollow, empty smile. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this. But if my child and six years of my life weren’t enough to pay my ‘debt’ to Landon, then maybe my life will cover the rest.” As they lunged toward me, faces twisted in sudden, genuine horror, I let go. I leaned back into the dark.

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