Category: English

Years after graduation, my high school lab partner became a massive pop star. In a recent interview, he publicly confessed: “Back in high school, there was someone I had a massive crush on.” When that interview aired, I was sitting at my high school reunion, staring at my phone. My former classmates immediately started mocking me. “Don’t tell me you think he’s talking about you?” “She was so nerdy back then. How could it be her? My vote is for the Prom Queen!” Stella Montgomery, our former high school ‘it girl,’ sat across from me. She blushed and giggled, “Please keep it a secret, guys. I’ll get you all his autograph next time.” Everyone thought it was her. That was until this summer, when I accidentally ended up moving into his apartment. After a heated argument, he grabbed my wrist, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Chloe Hastings. You are not allowed to hate me.” 1 “Chloe, why the sudden move to New York City?” At the reunion, Stella suddenly brought me up. “Rent in the city is insane, and your family didn’t exactly have a lot of money…” Over the years, Stella had become a minor influencer and actress. Tonight, she was the center of attention. Compared to me, a lowly intern, she was living the dream. I was just about to say I already found a place to stay, when a cool, magnetic voice echoed from a phone nearby. “Back in high school, there was someone I had a massive crush on…” The girl next to me eagerly grabbed my phone. It was a live stream of Liam Thorne, the nation’s top chart-topping singer. He was looking directly into the camera, a faint, gentle smile playing on his lips. The affection in his eyes practically melted through the screen. The girl next to me started shouting. “I know why Chloe moved to New York!” She spun my phone around to show the rest of the table, laughing. “Remember how there was a rumor that Liam had a crush on you? Don’t tell me you actually took it seriously! The second he confesses to having a high school crush, you pack your bags for the city.” I waved my hands awkwardly. “I didn’t think that at all…” Any secret butterflies I had as a teenager had faded with time. I knew the difference between a normal person and a global superstar. Sarah, one of the few people I actually talked to in high school, tugged my sleeve. “Just drop it. Stella is right here, it’s making things weird.” I froze, looking blankly at Stella. My brain short-circuited. Was Liam… dating Stella? Stella’s face instantly flushed red. “Stop making things up… we aren’t even official yet.” The table erupted in teasing cheers. Amidst the noise, Stella looked at me. “It’s okay, Chloe. If you want to see him, I can take you to meet him.” “You can ask him yourself if he even remembers you.” 2 The reunion dragged on until late. After everyone finally left, I let out a long sigh. I had to meet my new landlord tonight, and I didn’t want to be late. On the cab ride over, the high school group chat started blowing up. “Chloe was such a wallflower. Who even started that rumor about Liam liking her?” “Exactly. Stella was gorgeous. My money is on Stella.” Suddenly, Stella sent a $100 Apple Cash payment to the group chat. “Next time I’ll get you guys those autographs… 😘” The chat went wild. I looked at the Apple Cash notification, hesitating. I had been a ghost in this chat for so long, I doubted they even remembered I was in it. If I quietly claim a few bucks, it shouldn’t be a big deal, right? I tapped the bubble. My finger hovered over ‘Claim.’ My eyes sparkled at the free coffee money. At that exact second, a user with a pitch-black profile picture sent a message. “Since when do Stella and I have anything going on?” A classmate immediately replied with a sneer: “Who are you? Why are you acting like you know?” The user replied with two words: “Liam Thorne.” Stella quickly jumped in. “I have Liam’s actual number. Who is this fake?” The chat started mocking the user. “Probably one of Chloe’s simps.” “Chloe actually has simps? LMAO.” Right at that moment, my finger slipped and hit the button. System notification: Chloe H. has claimed your Apple Cash. The noisy group chat instantly fell dead silent. I backed out of the payment screen and saw the messages. I wanted the earth to swallow me whole. After a few minutes of agonizing silence, I carefully typed: “Sorry, I don’t really know who this person is…” Stella didn’t reply. I sent another message: “@Stella, I accidentally claimed the largest share of the cash. I’m so sorry, I can Venmo it back…” This time, absolutely no one said a word. The chat was like a graveyard. 3 After a bumpy ride, the cab pulled up to a hyper-exclusive neighborhood in Tribeca. Looking at the understated, luxurious high-rise in front of me, I double-checked with the driver. He promised he was at the right address. I immediately called my mom. “Mom, the place I’m at right now… it looks like a billionaire’s row.” “Is it the Astor Residences?” “Yes…” “Then you’re in the right place. Just remember to be polite and don’t cause trouble for the owner.” Rent in New York was notoriously brutal. My mom had found this place through an old friend. She said the landlord was a nice guy and was giving us a massive discount. But… moving straight into a luxury penthouse? After the doorman rigorously verified my identity, he let me up. Ten minutes later, dragging my suitcase, I nervously knocked on the door of unit 302. With a soft click. The door opened. A sliver of warm light spilled into the hallway. The moment I looked up and saw that face, my heart stopped beating. How could it be… Liam? Years later, his sharp, handsome features had only grown more striking, almost intimidatingly perfect. Seeing him in person was a thousand times more shocking than seeing him on TV. Blood pounded in my ears. I gripped the handle of my suitcase, panicking as I turned around. “I’m so sorry, I—I have the wrong door…” I prepared to flee. A cool, indifferent voice cut through the dim lighting of the corridor. Crisp and magnetic. “You don’t have the wrong door.” “Chloe Hastings. Get inside.” 4 I never expected to reunite with Liam like this. Back in high school, Liam and I were lab partners. But only for a very short time. Because shortly after we were assigned to sit together, a group of girls cornered me by the lockers. “We saw you give Liam a carton of milk today. If you reach out to him again, we’ll beat you to a pulp. Got it?” “Keep your voice down, you’ll scare the little good girl.” “Don’t even look at him, or I’ll claw your eyes out.” Terrified and harassed daily, I finally dragged my desk to the back of the classroom one afternoon and switched seats on my own. “Chloe.” Liam’s voice yanked me back to reality. He was holding a pair of guest slippers in mid-air, looking like he had been waiting for a while. “Do I have to put them on your feet myself?” My face flushed the color of a boiled lobster. “No, thank you…” He looked like he had just stepped out of the shower. His dark hair was still damp. He wore a loose white hoodie, standing lazily by the door. Under the harsh hallway lights, his skin seemed to give off a flawless, soft glow. I kept my eyes glued to the floor and muttered, “Um… I don’t think this is a good idea. Once I find a new apartment, I’ll move out…” Liam paused, looking at me coldly. “Why? Do you hate me that much?” “Having male and female roommates is just a bit…” “When you signed the lease, you said you didn’t mind a co-ed arrangement.” It was true. In an expensive city like New York, having roommates of the opposite sex was incredibly common. But… He was a mega-star. Why did he need a roommate? I took a deep breath. “I’m not part of your celebrity world. Being around you… I might not be used to it.” The clock in the corner ticked loudly, pointing to 11:00 PM. The living room was dead silent. Liam looked away. “Fine. Break the lease. But I’m keeping the deposit.” I hummed in agreement and bent down to change my shoes. Suddenly, my phone slipped out of my pocket. Smack. It hit the floor. My AirPods disconnected. The audio of Liam’s live stream, which I had still been watching, blasted at max volume through the quiet living room. And my ‘Top 1% Super Fan’ badge, glaring brightly on the screen, was on full display for him to see. My recent comment had been pinned to the top of the chat. It was a thirsty cat emoji. With the caption: “God, if he ever chased me, I would simply pass away…” And the replies below it read: “Don’t worry girl, I’ll hold him back for you.” My face practically caught fire. I didn’t dare move a muscle. Liam just stood there, looking down, calmly watching my comment get hundreds of likes in real-time. Just as I was about to die of asphyxiation from the embarrassment. Liam drawled lazily: “Ah. The Top 1% Super Fan who isn’t ‘part of my world.’” “…” 5 For days after that, I avoided Liam like the plague. I didn’t dare bring up breaking the lease again. In a state of constant anxiety, I started my new job. I was an intern reporter for the entertainment desk of a digital magazine. New York was experiencing a brutal heatwave. The sounds of the city traffic were giving me a migraine. One day, my editor, Mr. Davis, suddenly dragged me out on a field assignment, saying the original intern called in sick. The shoot was in a sweltering park in Brooklyn. We baked in the sun for over an hour before the interviewee finally arrived. “Chloe? Is that really you?” Seeing Stella, I froze. She was our subject for the day. Mr. Davis wiped the sweat from his forehead, ignoring our connection, and fired off a few questions. Stella barely gave him the time of day. And I had to stand there with her, roasting in the sun. For the entire afternoon. When the interview finally ended, Stella took a sip of her iced oat milk latte and smiled. “Chloe, why didn’t you tell us you had a boyfriend?” “We’re old friends, why hide it?” “What?” I was completely lost. “The guy who defended you in the group chat the other night.” Stella smirked. “He even pretended to be Liam just to stick up for you…” A few of the crew members nearby chuckled. “People still pretend to be celebrities online? I thought we left that in middle school.” “Miss Chloe, if you want Liam’s autograph, just ask Stella. He’s literally on set today, there’s no need to date an internet troll.” I quickly explained, “I don’t have a boyfriend.” But the conversation had already moved on. Stella was chatting happily with everyone else, pretending she hadn’t heard me. Mr. Davis pulled me aside. “Go take a break. You might be old classmates, but you’re not in the same league anymore. What’s the point of talking to her?” By early evening, the weather finally cooled down. I sat under a tree and clicked on the profile of the person who had defended me in the chat. To my shock, I realized this person was already in my contacts. The saved name was—Landlord. It suddenly hit me. Right before I moved to New York, my mom had texted me his contact card, telling me he was the landlord and to message him when I arrived. But since the time and place were already set, I never bothered to reach out. I tried to tap his profile picture, but my finger slipped. A tiny line of text popped up at the bottom of the screen: You nudged “Landlord”. “…” The other side instantly switched to “Typing…” Landlord: “Need something?” I tentatively typed two words: “Liam? Thorne?” He seemed busy. It took a moment for him to reply: “If you have something to say, say it.” “!” With that icy attitude, it had to be Liam! I abruptly looked up, trying to scan the area. And right on cue, I spotted Liam leaning against a luxury SUV a few yards away. He was wearing a ridiculously expensive tailored suit, his stage makeup flawless, his dark eyes like ink. He looked absurdly gorgeous. Was he shooting here today too? Our eyes met, and he raised an eyebrow slightly. My heart immediately skipped a beat. Then he looked down and tapped his phone. My phone buzzed. Landlord: “Top 1% Super Fan, reel in your eyes. You’re staring.” “…” The summer heat and my own embarrassment made me feel suffocated. I drank some water, but it didn’t help. I decided to go to the public restroom to splash some water on my face and calm down. But as I approached the door, I heard whispers inside. “…is she the gold-digger Stella was talking about?” “Yeah. Her family is broke. She tried to seduce Liam in high school, and now she has some loser simp defending her online. Totally delusional.” “Why would anyone simp for her?” “Some girls just know how to open their legs and get what they want.” I stood by the door, listening silently, waiting until they walked out and saw me. Their faces dropped. “You… why didn’t you go in?” I smiled. “I was busy listening to you talk trash about me.” I held up my phone. “Thank you for letting me know Stella talks about me behind my back. I’ll go ask her about it right now.” The two girls panicked, waving their hands frantically. “No, no, no, we were just making things up!” “We’re sorry, we’re so sorry…” I looked skeptical. “So Stella didn’t say it?” “No…” They shifted uncomfortably. “We’re sorry, it was just dumb gossip.” “Fine. Post a public apology on your Instagram stories. Make sure you detail exactly what lies you spread. Otherwise…” I paused, pulling out my digital voice recorder. “You do know what I do for a living, right?” Half an hour later, they showed me their phones. I didn’t let them leave until I was satisfied with their miserable expressions. The apologies were live on their stories. Not hidden from anyone. So when I walked back to set, Stella’s face looked like thunder. As night fell, the drama seemed to pass. Because the shoot ran late, Mr. Davis booked us rooms in a nearby five-star hotel. Suddenly, my phone buzzed. Landlord: “You’re staying there tonight?” “Yeah.” “Want to grab dinner?” I had just stepped out of the elevator. Intermittent laughter drifted from the elevator banks next to me. “…back in high school, Stella had me and a few girls jump her. She learned her place real quick after that.” “You don’t even know. Chloe and her mom are exactly the same. We sent people to harass her mom’s street cart, and they didn’t even dare squeak.” It felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head. I stood frozen in place. Until the elevator doors closed. And the voices disappeared. It took a long time for me to process what I had heard. My mom had run a small food cart near the high school for years. I never knew they had hired people to harass her. What was even more terrifying was that the people who bullied me back then were working right beside me now. By the time I took the elevator back to the lobby to confront them, they were gone.

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After my parents died, I was taken in by the Millers—my father’s closest friends. On my 16th birthday, Caleb Miller got drunk and kissed me, whispering that I wasn’t allowed to love anyone else. At 18, he talked me into spending the night with him, promising we’d be tangled together for a lifetime. At 24, I wanted a wedding. But he told me he wasn’t the marrying type. After a month of silence, our mutual friends threw a party to try and fix us. That night, Caleb showed up with a girl who looked barely twenty. She had a shy, timid smile that looked exactly like mine did when I was eighteen. Our friend slammed his glass down: “What the hell is Elena to you then, Caleb?” Caleb just scoffed. “Why are you guys overreacting?” “Elena is like a sister to me. Just because she’s lived under my roof for years doesn’t mean I have to put a ring on her finger, right?” 1 As he spoke, he leaned down and kissed the girl’s hair. He looked around the room. “And don’t start rumors about me and Elena. I don’t want my girlfriend getting the wrong idea.” “She’s young. She’s hard to soothe when she’s upset.” Across from him, Silas, who had grown up with us, gritted his teeth. “Caleb, is this some kind of sick joke?” Everyone knew the truth about us. Silas was the only one brave enough to call him out. Caleb ignored him, casually lighting a cigarette. His face remained cold. “Silas, since when did you and Elena get so close? Since when do you handle her battles?” His gaze flicked to me for a fraction of a second before he turned back to pinch his girlfriend’s cheek. “Baby, go wait for me outside. It’s too loud in here. I’ll take you somewhere else in a bit.” The girl nodded timidly and left. Once the door clicked shut, Caleb leaned back and stared at me. “Elena, it was a mutual thing. You keep dragging our friends into this to pressure me into a proposal. Don’t you think that’s pathetic?” Before I could find my voice, he blew a smoke ring and smiled darkly. “I never actually called you my girlfriend, did I?” I looked at the face I had loved for eight years and felt a sudden, chilling sense of vertigo. He was a stranger. Silas stood up, ready to swing. “Are you even human, Caleb?” I held Silas back, my fingers trembling. Caleb’s eyes turned icy. “You want her that bad, Silas? Fine. I’m done with her. She’s all yours.” “After all these years, I’m bored. I’m sure she is too.” The sound of a glass shattering echoed through the room. It was Cillian, sitting silently in the corner. 2 Cillian was the “Ice King” of our group. When I first arrived at the Millers’ at twelve, he was the one who intimidated me most. He was always stoic, always wearing a suit, always a man of few words. Whether Caleb and I were making out or screaming at each other, Cillian never reacted. Until now. He looked at Caleb with a terrifying stillness. “You’ve crossed the line.” “Oh? Are you going to lecture me too?” Caleb sneered. “I didn’t realize everyone was so invested in my family business. Elena, I should praise you. You’ve got them all wrapped around your finger.” He had said those exact words to me when I was sixteen. He had found a love letter in my backpack. It was my birthday. He had looked at me with a smirk. “The valedictorian wrote this? How poetic.” But when the party ended, he cornered me in my room. He pinned me against the door and kissed me—a soft, hungry theft of breath. “Elena,” he had whispered into the crook of my neck, “Don’t you dare love anyone else. You’re mine. Only mine.” Back then, he sounded like a desperate boy. Now, looking at him, the contrast was so violent it made my chest ache. I knew it was over. “Caleb, since everyone is here… let’s settle this once and for all.” He crushed his cigarette. “Go ahead.” My eyes were burning, but I forced myself to look at him. “You’re right. We aren’t anything.” “From now on, we stay out of each other’s lives.” Caleb’s grip on his glass tightened until his knuckles turned white. “You’re cutting me off, Elena?” “You have a girlfriend,” I said, my voice steady despite the chaos in my heart. “Keeping your distance from other women is just common sense, isn’t it?” 3 I remembered being seventeen, bringing him a change of clothes after practice. I had caught the head cheerleader cornering him in the locker room. “Caleb, I’ve liked you since middle school. Just give me a chance.” I had hidden in the hallway, listening. “What does you liking me have to do with me?” Caleb’s voice was cold. “Move.” “Don’t be mean,” she pleaded, tears welling up. “It hurts my feelings.” Caleb didn’t soften. He pulled his hand away and looked down at her. “I have someone I love. Keeping my distance is common sense, isn’t it?” The girl froze. “Go. If the girl I love sees this, she’ll get jealous. And she’s impossible to soothe.” I had watched her run away, thinking Caleb was ruthless. But then he had found me and wrapped his arms around me from behind. “Did you see enough? Aren’t you going to thank me?” “You’re cruel,” I whispered. He laughed, a rogue’s grin on his face. “Elena, I only love you. So you better only love me. Got it?” He kissed me then, and I tasted mint and adrenaline. It was the first time I felt what it was like to be someone’s absolute priority. 4 Caleb must have remembered that day too. He fell silent, his jaw tight. I walked over to him and slid the ring off my finger. He had given it to me when I turned 22. He told me it was a family heirloom from his mother. A promise. “Here,” I said, placing it on the table. “You should have this back.” His lips trembled. “I don’t take back gifts.” “It’s not appropriate anymore.” He stood up abruptly, not looking at the ring, not looking at me. “My girlfriend is waiting.” It looked like a retreat. The room fell into a heavy silence. Silas tried to comfort me. “Elena, he’s just acting out. He’s throwing a tantrum.” A tantrum? A month ago, right here, I had been ready to propose to him. During a game of Truth or Dare, he picked Truth. I asked him, “Have you ever thought about marriage?” Under the dim lights, Caleb’s expression had gone blank. “Never. Marriage sounds like a prison.” I had frozen. Because I had made it public, he was furious. He left early that night. Now I realized he didn’t fear marriage. He just didn’t want to marry me. We started without a definition, and now, we were ending without a goodbye. 5 Cillian drove me home. He was quiet, and I wasn’t in the mood for small talk. Suddenly, Silas called. “Elena! Caleb got into a fight! He’s at the bar!” By the time we got there, the dust had settled. I saw Caleb from across the room. Whether it was the adrenaline or the gin, his face was flushed. He was sitting on a velvet sofa, pulling his new girlfriend into his lap. She tucked her head into his chest, and he tilted her chin up to kiss her. Someone who knew us asked, “Caleb, I thought you and Elena were getting serious? Who’s the kid?” Caleb’s face darkened instantly. “Who said I was marrying her?” The guy stammered, “But… this girl looks exactly like Elena—” Caleb slammed his drink down. “Don’t mention that name in front of me again. If you do, leave.” “From now on, this is your sister-in-law. Say hi.” The crowd went silent. No one could bring themselves to address the teenager in his lap. I turned and walked out. I bumped into Silas at the door. “Is he okay? Does he need a hospital?” Silas looked inside and saw Caleb nuzzling the girl’s neck—the same way he used to nuzzle mine. Silas walked back out, swearing under his breath. 6 I didn’t let them drive me home. I walked along the river, memories hitting me like waves. 18 years old. Caleb had promised we’d be together forever. He was the “bad boy” of the school, but for me, he quit every dangerous hobby. He followed me to the same university. He was the “gold standard” boyfriend. When his parents found out about us at 21, his father nearly disowned him. Caleb stood his ground, telling them he was serious about me. He got the ring from his mother and slid it on my finger. “You’re a Miller now.” Silas had asked him once if he’d ever change his mind. Caleb had kicked him. “Only if I’m dead.” Last year, we passed the “seven-year itch.” He held me and said his love was undying. I was the slow-burn type. It took me years to fully open my heart, but once I did, I loved for the long haul. And now, he had moved on, and I was stuck in the past. I remembered taking him to my parents’ graves. He held my hand and promised them: “I’ll take care of her for the rest of my life.” I guess “the rest of his life” only lasted eight years. I wiped the cold tears from my face. My phone buzzed. An email from Doctors Without Borders. My application was approved. I leave in one week. 7 It was my dream. I had been afraid to tell him, afraid of the distance. Now, it wasn’t a problem anymore. The next day, at the hospital, I saw them. The girl was crying in the ER, huddled in Caleb’s arms. “Caleb, it hurts. I shouldn’t have done that last night.” Caleb looked frustrated but tried to soothe her. “My fault.” The doctor sighed. “A ruptured ovarian cyst. You young people need to be more… careful. She’s only 18.” I felt a wave of nausea so strong I thought I’d vomit. “Dr. Lin?” A nurse walked up. “You okay? Did you skip breakfast again?” I shook my head, but Caleb had already spotted me. He lunged forward and grabbed my arm. “Why haven’t you eaten?” He looked genuinely worried. “You’re going to pass out again. Elena, take care of yourself!” He fumbled in his bag and shoved a chocolate bar into my hand. In college, he used to supervise every meal I had because I’d forget to eat during labs. When I fainted once junior year, he stayed by my bed with tears in his eyes. “Elena, you’re going to be the death of me!” Since then, he always kept snacks on him. Just in case. “Caleb… it hurts…” The girl’s whimpering voice snapped me back. I pushed Caleb away. “Your girlfriend needs you.” I turned and walked into my shift. 8 It was pouring when I got off work. I saw Caleb leaning against his car, smoking under a black umbrella. He saw me and put out the cigarette. “I’ll give you a ride.” “No thanks.” He bit his lip. “Aren’t you going to ask me about this morning?” “I’m not interested in other people’s business.” “Elena! Do you have to talk to me like that?” “Caleb, I can’t be friends with an ex. It’s over. Let’s keep some dignity.” “You think I’m chasing you? You’re awfully conceited, Elena.” His fingers were white on the umbrella handle. “Good. Let’s keep it that way.” I moved to open my Uber door, but he caught my wrist. “Tomorrow is my parents’ 30th anniversary. They want you there.” The Millers had been my family. They treated me like a daughter. “I’ll be there.” “Elena… we haven’t told them we broke up yet. Please. Just for tomorrow.” I nodded. “Fine.”

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1 I, Lucas Thorne, a hidden heir to a powerful family, was supposed to marry Emily Reed. But the night before the wedding, a sudden car accident plunged me into darkness. When I woke up again, the world was nothing but chaos. In the endless dark, I heard Emily and her assistant talking. “Emily, don’t worry, the accident perpetrator and the doctor are all taken care of. They won’t breathe a word. It’s just… Lucas loves to paint. After donating his corneas, he won’t be able to see again. What if he can’t accept it when he wakes up?” “He’s strong, unlike Adam. Adam wouldn’t be able to live without his sight. Besides, Lucas already has me, and I’ll take care of him for the rest of his life. I love him, but I can’t lose Adam.” The woman paused, her cool voice returning. “Oh, and have the doctor snip Lucas’s vas deferens as well. Adam would go crazy if he saw a child of mine and Lucas’s.” The assistant’s voice held a hint of protest: “But Emily, isn’t that too cruel to Lucas? He’s been with you since he was eighteen…” “Just do as you’re told, and don’t ask any more questions.” I felt a chill run through me, my body trembling uncontrollably. So, the woman I had loved unconditionally had long since fallen for the poor student I sponsored. She was even willing to destroy everything I had for his sake. If that’s the case, those who hurt me will not be spared. … Footsteps echoed in the hospital room. I forced myself to remain calm, feigning unconsciousness. “Ms. Reed, Mr. Grayson just donated his corneas and is still very weak. If we proceed with the vasectomy now, he might not withstand it and it could be life-threatening. I suggest we wait a while…” “I didn’t pay you to give me suggestions. This is an order, not a discussion. But if anything happens to Lucas, you know the consequences.” The doctor spoke nervously, “Yes, Ms. Reed.” A warm, searing touch brushed my cheek. Emily’s voice was soft and melodious. “Lucas, it’ll all be over soon. Don’t worry, I’ll always be by your side. I love you, Lucas.” My body gave a faint, uncontrollable shiver. A coolness grazed my cheek as Emily seemed to stand up. Sensing I was about to awaken, Emily’s voice turned cold and commanding: “Where’s the doctor? Prepare for surgery immediately. It must be done before he wakes!” I opened my eyes in terror, but saw nothing but darkness. Tears fell involuntarily as I reached out, grasping frantically at the air. “Wh-why can’t I see?” “Don’t be scared, Lucas. I’m here. I’ve always been here.” Emily held me tightly, her warm, small hand stroking my head. Her gentle voice seemed to brim with heartache. “You were in an accident… The doctor said your blindness is only temporary. Lucas, I’ll take good care of you…” The woman seemed to nod, then continued, “Be a good boy. Your body hasn’t fully recovered, so you can’t get too emotional. Let the doctor give you a nutritional shot.” If I hadn’t woken up early and overheard her conversation with the doctor, I would have believed every word she said. But now I knew that the so-called “nutritional shot” was just anesthesia to put me to sleep. I clutched the woman’s arm tightly, shaking my head desperately, my voice choked with emotion. “No… Emily, I don’t want the shot… I want to go home, can we just go home…?” Before I could finish, the cold needle pierced my skin. As my consciousness faded, I heard Emily’s familiar gentle voice. “Lucas, be good. Just sleep, and it will all be over. You’ll be fine with me here.” Tears streamed silently down my cheeks. Though my body was numb, my heart throbbed relentlessly. I closed my eyes in despair, and in the darkness, I saw eighteen-year-old Emily, her eyes red from crying, scolding me for being a fool for taking a knife for her. The girl’s tender, resolute voice echoed in my mind, “Lucas, I swear, this lifetime, I will never let anyone hurt you again.” Yet, the one who hurt me most, the one who sought to end my life, was precisely her. When I woke again, I had not only lost my sight and my love, but I would never have children of my own. I opened my eyes to the quiet of the hospital room, broken only by my own weak breathing. Soon, faint voices of an argument drifted in. “Lucas’s brother was in an accident. I have to go take care of him. Lucas’s brother has been so good to me; without him, I’d still be in the slums. I owe him everything, you can’t stop me…” It was Adam Grayson, the poor student I sponsored. Emily, who never tolerated defiance, had no hint of displeasure in her voice. “Adam, listen. Your eyes just recovered, the doctor said you shouldn’t move around much and need more rest. Lucas will be taken care of, you don’t need to worry.” My palms clenched the blanket involuntarily. When had Adam gone blind? Why didn’t I know? “Hiss!” A sharp pain suddenly shot through the back of my hand as a tiny needle quickly pierced my skin. The nurse’s voice was utterly impatient and angry as she snapped, “Don’t move!” She even pressed harder, as if to deliberately warn me. “How unlucky. Why do they get to take care of Ms. Reed’s fiancé, while I’m stuck with a blind invalid like you!” “If Mr. Grayson could put in a good word for me with Ms. Reed, I wouldn’t have to deal with the likes of you sicklings anymore…” “Crash!” The sound of a glass medicine bottle shattering interrupted her resentful muttering. “Ah! Who dares… M-Ms. Reed, why are you here…?” The nurse’s voice went from angry to trembling as Emily’s furious voice resonated through the room, sending a chill down my spine. “Get out. Don’t ever let me see you again.” A familiar warm embrace enveloped me. The woman’s body seemed to tremble slightly, her voice filled with guilt. “I’m sorry, Lucas. I was late, and you suffered. I’m so sorry…” A bitter smile played on my lips. Compared to having my corneas removed and my vas deferens severed, this little bit of hardship was nothing. But she seemed terribly remorseful, holding me so tightly I could barely breathe. “I don’t want to stay in the hospital. I want to go home.” The woman’s warm breath feathered my neck. “Once the doctors clear you, I’ll take you home.” She didn’t know that the “home” I spoke of wasn’t her villa, but the prestigious Thorne family estate far away in London. Years ago, during a period of turmoil within the Thorne family, my father had hidden me in a coastal town for safety, but somehow, ill-intentioned people found out. When I was cornered in an alley, Emily appeared and took a fatal knife blow for me. In that moment, “love at first sight” became a tangible reality for me. Later, we went to the same university, fell passionately in love, and were inseparable. Everyone around us envied our relationship. Adam appeared around that time too. I pitied him, eating plain bread every meal, and admired his talent, so I stepped in to sponsor him. Adam was eternally grateful to me, and we became close friends, sharing everything. I just didn’t know when he and Emily ended up in the same bed, or when Emily fell in love with him. Emily brushed the stray hairs from my forehead, her voice softer than ever. “Lucas, can we still have the wedding tomorrow? I truly want to marry you quickly, to make you my husband.” The wedding I once dreamed of now felt like a nightmare. I gently shook my head. “No.” Emily didn’t expect me to refuse. She released me, explaining with rare patience, “I know you’re scared, but don’t worry, I’ll arrange everything perfectly. I guarantee no one will dare to say a word. Adam will be your best man and help you.” “Our officiant this time will be Evelyn Thorne, the head of the powerful Thorne family from London. I promised you I’d give you the grandest wedding.” Hearing my older sister’s name, my hand suddenly clenched the woman’s sleeve. The Thorne family didn’t know I was in the coastal town, nor did they know that Emily’s fiancé was me. Years ago, after I refused an arranged marriage with a powerful family’s daughter, I stormed out of the house and hadn’t contacted the Thorne family since. A bitter pang went through my heart. I couldn’t imagine what my sister’s expression would be seeing me in such a pathetic state. My arm suddenly felt heavy as a deep, resonant male voice spoke, “Lucas, I’ve been so worried about you. From now on, I’ll be your eyes, taking care of you for the rest of your life…” Emily cut him off, a trace of undetectable guilt in her voice. “Don’t be silly, Lucas’s blindness is only temporary.” Adam understood, resting his head on my shoulder, feigning comfort. “Right, my mistake. Maybe Lucas’s eyes will be fine tomorrow, and he’ll happily marry Emily. Lucas, I’m truly happy for you.” It was this innocent facade that had fooled me. The assistant brought the groom’s tuxedo. Only Adam and I were left in the room. “Lucas, I hear you designed this tuxedo yourself? It’s beautiful, but it’s too big for me.” The sound of fabric tearing in the silent room was exceptionally jarring. I knew he had ruined my wedding attire. “You’re blind; there’s no point in wearing such an expensive tuxedo. Your hospital gown suits you much better.” “Splash!” My eyes stung with a sharp, burning pain, as if they were on fire. I cried out, my hands trembling as I tried to wipe away the liquid. Adam held my wrist in a death grip, his venomous voice whispering in my ear. “Lucas Thorne, your blindness wasn’t from the accident at all. I never thought a casual remark would make Emily take your corneas for me. And I didn’t even need them; they were filthy, not even a dog would touch them.” “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave quietly. Otherwise, what do you think? What if a casual word from me makes her take your life?” The acidic liquid burned my eyes, but it was less than a thousandth of the pain in my heart. Hearing the approaching click of heels, Adam roughly wiped away the liquid from my eyes, then lifted my hand high. “Slap!” A searing pain erupted in my palm. Before I could react, a powerful shove sent me reeling. My head slammed against the wall behind me, and my ears rang uncontrollably. “Lucas Thorne! You’re blind, not insane! Why are you attacking Adam? He’s very weak right now!” Though I couldn’t see Emily’s expression, her furious voice told me she had lost control. In all these years, this was the first time she had been so enraged. She had forgotten that I was the one whose body was weaker. Emily’s menacing voice rang above me, “Apologize to Adam! Otherwise, the wedding tomorrow is off!” She knew how desperately I longed for this wedding; it had been my greatest wish for years to wear a tuxedo and marry her. Just as she expected, I lowered my head, looking remorseful, the residual liquid in my eyes stinging. My voice trembled slightly with pain, “I’m sorry, Adam.” The woman’s cold voice came from the doorway, “I’ll have someone pick you up at eight tomorrow morning.” Emily didn’t know that tomorrow’s wedding, for me, was an escape. It was the day I would finally leave her. 2 The next morning, the assistant came to pick me up for the wedding car. Just as Adam said, I arrived at the wedding venue in my hospital gown. Adam’s tuxedo sleeve grazed my exposed wrist as he tossed a large coat over my head, chuckling. “Happy wedding, Lucas. Do you think wearing a tuxedo makes you the groom? It’s just to hide your blind eyes, to save you from making a spectacle.” Failing to see the despair he hoped for on my face, Adam was about to lash out. Emily’s displeased voice suddenly cut in. “Where’s your tuxedo? Lucas Thorne, are you deliberately trying to spite me? You’re going to marry me looking like that?” The assistant led me to the changing room. As soon as I took off my hospital gown, a woman’s excited voice suddenly sounded from behind me. “He might be blind, but he’s certainly not bad-looking. Be a good boy, don’t make a sound, and I’ll make sure to take good care of you.” “Click!” A cold sensation on my wrist—handcuffs. The woman’s body pressed against mine, and I was too weak to push her away. I could only open my mouth and bite her hard. “You little bastard, you’re asking for it!” The enraged woman’s stiletto heel dug into my abdomen, her panting breath hot on my neck. The woman’s soft lips had just brushed my chest when a sharp, surprised male voice suddenly rang out from the doorway. “Lucas! How can you do this at your wedding with Emily? How can you face Emily…?” The woman in front of me paused, panting, and spoke disdainfully. “He threw himself at me. I wouldn’t even want a blind man.” As soon as the words left her lips, countless accusatory voices erupted around me, their vicious words attacking me like venomous snakes. “I can’t believe Ms. Reed’s fiancé is blind!” “No wonder he’s blind, he has Ms. Reed and he’s still cheating, tsk tsk tsk.” “What a shameless philanderer!” I frantically reached for my torn clothes, burying my head in my knees, my whole body trembling violently. Suddenly, the air fell silent, broken only by the crisp click of high heels. “Lucas Thorne, you dare to betray me!” My throat was viciously squeezed. Emily’s eyes were bloodshot, filled with pure hatred. I used every ounce of strength I had, barely managing to gasp out a few words. “I… didn’t…” The feeling of suffocation slowly enveloped me. Emily abruptly released her grip, then seized my chin, squeezing it tightly. “Lucas Thorne, after all these years together, you should know that I hate betrayal most of all. I think you’ve lost your mind to be with a woman like that. If that’s the case, you won’t be attending today’s wedding.” “Guards, take him to the asylum!” As I was forcibly lifted, my heart plummeted. If I was sent to an asylum like this, I’d never be able to return to the Thorne family. Thinking this, I struggled desperately, broke free from their grasp, and ran forward, holding my breath. “Catch him!” Behind me, Emily’s furious voice echoed, along with countless footsteps. My heart pounded violently. There was only darkness before me, I couldn’t see anything, but I dared not stop running. Only by running desperately forward could I find a glimmer of hope. Suddenly, I collided into a warm embrace. A familiar, anxious female voice echoed above my head, “Lucas!” It was my eldest sister, Evelyn Thorne. My body instantly went limp. I lost my footing and completely collapsed into her arms. Seeing my pale, bloodless face, Evelyn reached out to caress my cheek, her voice trembling almost imperceptibly. “Lucas, what have you done to yourself? Where have you been all these years…? Big sister finally, finally found you.” A crystal tear fell onto my face. I reached out, wanting to wipe away my sister’s tears, but I didn’t know where her face was. Evelyn noticed my abnormality. “Lucas, what happened to your eyes?!” Just as I was about to speak, Emily’s suppressed voice came from above me. “Lucas, come here.” My body instinctively trembled. Sensing my fear, Evelyn patted my back, soothingly. “Don’t be scared, Lucas. Big sister is here. No one will hurt you again.” I nodded, too choked up to speak, my body and mind slowly relaxing. Seeing me slowly close my eyes, leaning peacefully against Evelyn’s shoulder, Emily’s face completely sank. She looked at Evelyn coldly. “Release my fiancé.” Evelyn’s eyes flashed with a hint of surprise. In an instant, she had roughly pieced things together, and a chill emanated from her. Just as tensions rose, Adam appeared between the two women. He looked at Evelyn’s extraordinary demeanor and spoke with a meek smile. “This distinguished guest, his name is Lucas Thorne. He’s Ms. Reed’s fiancé. He recently went blind and suffered a bit of a shock, becoming completely insane. You should hand him over to us to send him for treatment, lest he accidentally harms you.” Evelyn’s eyes were clouded with gloom. “Get out.” Adam’s handsome face was filled with humiliation, his eyes instantly reddening. Emily wrapped him in her arms, waved her hand, and spoke in a low voice. “No matter who you are, you won’t leave here today.” A group of black-clad bodyguards surrounded them. Evelyn’s lips curved into a meaningful smile. “It’s been a long time since anyone dared to court death like this.” With a light whistle from her, three burly men with dragon tattoos carved into their profiles charged forward. In a moment, the black-clad bodyguards lay scattered on the ground. A guest gasped, “Those are the elite guards of the Thorne family from London!” “I heard Evelyn Thorne, the head of the Thorne family, was invited today. I can’t believe it’s true!” The crowd erupted into an uproar. Seeing Evelyn’s dark expression, many timid guests cautiously retreated from the hotel, fearing they might be caught in the crossfire. Adam’s face showed surprise. He hadn’t expected the person protecting me to be the head of the powerful Thorne family from London. His fists clenched tightly, jealousy almost overflowing from his eyes, filled with resentment. “Ms. Thorne, there must be some misunderstanding here. He’s not worth it, a blind man! He was just with another woman moments ago. You don’t need to…” Before he could finish, “Slap, slap, slap, slap, slap…” Loud slaps echoed, accompanied by Adam’s sharp screams. “Ah!” Evelyn said calmly, “Those who harm Lucas will all face the same fate.” “Death.” Seeing the man she had always held so dearly being used as a punching bag, getting slapped repeatedly, Emily felt both heartache and fury. She forcefully pulled Adam back to her side, scrutinizing the woman before her whose aura was so oppressive. “Ms. Thorne, this is the coastal town. Surely you understand that the mighty dragon cannot suppress the local serpent.” “Moreover, my Reed family has never offended the Thorne family. Ms. Thorne, you were the one who took my fiancé and hurt my people first. Don’t you think you owe me a reasonable explanation?” Evelyn raised an eyebrow, her eyes as dark as ink. “How did I not know that my own brother was going to marry you? And you, do you even deserve to enter our Thorne family home?” Emily’s face betrayed undisguised shock. She remembered how I had never mentioned my family to her, and each time she asked, I would only vaguely say my family couldn’t make an appearance. She found herself whispering, “Lucas… Lucas is actually a member of the London Thorne family…” The Thorne family of London had three daughters, all powerful and influential, and a youngest son who had never appeared in public. Looking at the grim-faced woman before her, Emily couldn’t help but feel a pang of panic. Things might have just gotten very complicated. Her gaze fell on my tightly shut eyes, and her fists involuntarily clenched. “No… no… my eyes…” In a haze, I trembled with fear, my murmurs reaching everyone present. Evelyn tenderly stroked the back of my head, signaling to a bodyguard to pick me up, then walked past the stunned woman towards the door. Hearing the footsteps gradually fading away, Emily’s heart gave a violent lurch. She suddenly realized she might be losing me. Emily turned and rushed to Evelyn, her gaze firm. “Ms. Thorne, Lucas is my fiancé. Even if you are his older sister, you can’t just take him away like this. Today is our wedding, and I promised Lucas a grand ceremony…” A low, chilling voice emanated from Evelyn’s thin lips. “I wouldn’t mind turning it into a funeral.” Evelyn kicked hard into the woman’s kneecap, and Emily’s knees hit the ground with a heavy thud. “Emily Reed, you know the Thorne family’s methods.” The sound of a car engine starting reached my ears. A cup of warm water was offered to my lips. Evelyn carefully helped me up, her movements so gentle as if I would break with a touch. With the warm water, my cold body began to regain some warmth. Evelyn’s fingers swiped across a tablet, her eyes growing darker. After seeing my hospital records and treatment history, the beast she had long suppressed inside her was on the verge of breaking free. She held back with all her might, afraid of scaring me. Evelyn felt like she was going insane. A low sob faintly reached my ears. I tilted my head slightly and spoke softly, “Big sister?” “I can’t even protect my only brother. I don’t deserve to be your big sister. I’m sorry, Lucas, it’s all my fault…” Evelyn’s trembling voice was filled with self-reproach. Feeling my sister’s slight trembling, tears also streamed from my eyes. Cold fingers wiped away my hot tears. Evelyn’s gentle voice held a hidden murderous intent. “Let big sister handle everyone who hurt you, okay?” I gently shook my head. “This revenge, I want to take it myself.” Hours later, the plane landed at the Thorne family estate in London. “Lucas!” My sisters, Lillian and Bella, who had received the news, had been waiting in the villa for a long time. Their heavy breathing reached my ears. I reached out, wanting to comfort them. “Second sister, third sister, I’m fine. Don’t worry.” The three Thorne sisters, known for their cold and detached demeanor, now had red eyes. They tremblingly held my hand. “Welcome home, little brother.” After being taken to my bedroom, the private doctor examined my body and reported with deep regret, “Mr. Thorne, you… will not be able to have children in the future. Furthermore, your body is currently very weak and requires a period of bed rest and careful recuperation, otherwise, you may suffer severe long-term health issues.” The doctor paused. “However, your eyes can recover if a suitable cornea is found, for example, one with a healthy, oval-shaped orbital structure.” Emily’s long, dark eyes flashed in my mind. I wondered if there was any genuine feeling in those beautiful eyes when she sat by my bedside, saying she’d be my eyes forever. Even though I had completely given up on her, a pang of pain still tightened in my chest. Perhaps only when she was gone would my heart stop hurting.

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I’ve been married to Carter Hayes for ten years. I’ve met every single girlfriend he’s had since our wedding day. Whenever he gets bored and wants to move on to someone new, I become his go-to excuse for the breakup: “If you marry me, you’ll end up exactly like her. Eventually, we’ll just be too familiar with each other—so familiar that there’s not a single spark of excitement left.” On our tenth wedding anniversary, I was wiping the tears of the college girl he had just dumped, while he was out taking his brand-new girlfriend to the movies. After using up an entire pack of tissues on her, I felt like I was looking at a ghost of my past self. So, I finally asked Carter for a divorce. He looked unusually confused. “Can’t you wait a little longer? Maybe I’m just about to turn over a new leaf.” I smiled faintly and didn’t answer. Instead, I booked a flight across the ocean. I’m not waiting for you to turn around. I’m moving on first. Chapter 1 Marrying a playboy requires the patience of a saint. Watching the pack of tissues in my hand dwindle to nothing, that thought randomly popped into my head. The girl sitting across from me was Riley, a college senior. She had been sobbing for two hours straight since she walked through the door of the cafe. Her honeymoon phase with Carter had lasted barely a month. There was really no need to cry so hard her mascara ran down her cheeks. I opened my mouth to comfort her, but she suddenly glared at me with bloodshot eyes. “He told me I look a little bit like you. Looking at you now, I guess I do.” I paused. None of Carter’s previous exes had ever said that to me. Riley sniffled and wiped the corners of her eyes. Done with my tissues, she turned to mockery. “I don’t need your comfort. You’re way more pathetic than I am.” Wasn’t that the truth? Everyone in New York’s high society knew Carter Hayes had married the perfect, understanding wife. So understanding that she allowed herself to be cheated on time and time again, and even helped him soothe his discarded lovers. Every girl he dated after our wedding, I politely referred to as his “exes.” I had completely thrown away the dignity of a legal wife. My phone buzzed on the table. It was a text from Carter. [Carter: Are you done yet? The movie is about to start.] I placed the phone face down and met Riley’s increasingly red eyes. “Whatever financial compensation you want, just say the word. I’ll fight for it on your behalf.” I had said these exact words countless times. I was as practiced as an HR rep handing out severance packages. She scoffed and stood up abruptly. “I don’t want anything.” I sighed. “You really should ask for something.” Money, a car, a condo—something solid she could actually hold onto. Her gaze grew even colder. She raised her iced latte and slowly, deliberately, poured it right over my head. “I’m pregnant.” “And I’m keeping the baby.” I stared at her, speechless, forgetting to offer any more advice. I forced a bitter smile, hiding it as best I could. Carter, you promised me one thing, and you couldn’t even keep that promise. Chapter 2 I sat in the passenger seat, dripping wet and shivering. Carter was on the phone. He made no effort to hide it. I could easily tell he had a new girl by his side. My hand unconsciously gripped the seatbelt, my fingertips turning white from the pressure. I didn’t know what the person on the other end said, but his eyes crinkled with a genuine, affectionate smile. “Alright, alright, I’ll come keep you company tonight.” He hung up, started the car, and tilted his head slightly toward me. His hands suddenly tightened on the steering wheel, and his face darkened into a scowl. “Did she throw that on you?” I had already pulled out some napkins from the glovebox and was methodically dabbing at my wet hair. Maybe because I didn’t answer, he leaned over and snatched the napkins from my hand. “Don’t move.” I instinctively shrank back toward the passenger door, but he yanked me into his arms with a cold glare. He wiped my hair somewhat carefully, though his brows were deeply furrowed and he looked furious. “You just sat there and let her pour it on you?” “Eleanor, what happened to that fiery spirit you used to use on me?” Used to… The hollow, sinking feeling that had taken root in my chest since seeing Riley began to spread, inch by inch. I pulled myself out of his embrace with a cold expression and said flatly, “I can hardly lose my temper at a pregnant woman, can I? What do you think?” He looked sheepish for a moment, but his jaw remained tight as he stubbornly continued to wipe my hair. We didn’t speak for the rest of the drive. He drove, and I stared out the window. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him shooting me probing glances. The ripples of disappointment in my heart spread outward. Disappointment had long ago crossed the mountains of despair and settled into pure numbness. I watched the movie absentmindedly, while Carter spent almost the entire time looking down at his glowing screen, replying to texts. The so-called “ritual” of our anniversary had crumbled into ruins long before the credits rolled. The funny part was, after the movie ended, I still had to sit beside him and watch him perform. It was a lavish anniversary dinner with close friends and family. The Hayes family had sent out the invitations to New York’s elite half a month in advance. Amidst the clinking of champagne glasses and networking, Carter peeled shrimp for me with his own hands while chatting with the guests. A small mountain of peeled shrimp piled up on my plate, but I just stared blankly at his exposed wrist where his sleeve was rolled up. Whose hair tie was he wearing? The nausea churning in my stomach had already killed my appetite. A man who peels shrimp for you doesn’t necessarily love you. A man who remembers your anniversary after ten years of marriage doesn’t necessarily love you. A man who never takes off his wedding ring, even in the shower, doesn’t necessarily love you. I should thank Carter. He was the one who taught me all of this. Chapter 3 Childhood sweethearts, perfect matches, meant to be. But those words were meant for Carter and my older sister, Evelyn. Even when I barely understood what love was, I knew the Davis and Hayes families were planning a marriage alliance. It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen my sister’s blushing cheeks when she went on dates with him. Or how the notoriously arrogant and wild Carter Hayes would become perfectly calm and quiet only in front of her. Otherwise, why would my young, naive self have quietly hidden away the vintage vinyl records I had spent months hunting down for him? In our trio, I was always just my sister’s shadow. When their love was shining as bright as the midday sun, where was there any room for me? The tragedy struck when Evelyn was twenty. My always elegant and poised sister ran away the night before her engagement party, only to die in a commercial plane crash. When her diary was uncovered, the ugly truth came out. The impending bankruptcy and internal crises facing the Davis family were stripped of their glamorous disguise. It turned out her shyness was faked. My sister had been forced to act as a bargaining chip for our parents. Behind the arranged marriage wasn’t a perfect romance, but my parents’ desperate greed. The one time she chose herself, it cost her her life. Carrying the last hopes of the Davis family, I was rushed into an engagement and marriage. To save the Hayes family’s face, and to save the Davis family from financial ruin. Throughout the entire process, I didn’t even have time to figure out if I was feeling more grief for my sister or joy for myself. Even as a replacement, I still ended up marrying the boy I had secretly loved since I was a teenager. But when we exchanged rings, I was the only one whose heart was racing. During the “you may kiss the bride” moment, Carter’s lips barely grazed mine, leaving behind a whisper that would haunt us both for years. “If you didn’t want to do this, why force yourself?” At the time, we agreed it was a transaction—we both got what we needed. But over ten years of marriage, I was the one who overstepped. He did everything for me flawlessly as a husband, yet he still didn’t love me. Chapter 4 The dinner party ended past midnight. I couldn’t tell if it was the wine going to my head or just a simple, pounding headache. I got into the car and fell into a deep, groggy sleep. Faintly, I could hear Carter on speakerphone, flirting with his new girl. Those sweet nothings, twisting and turning with affection. He never got tired of saying them, but I was sick of hearing them. During a pause in the conversation, he seemed to reach over and touch my forehead. Suddenly, the car slammed on the brakes, and he let out a harsh curse. “Fuck. Why didn’t you say you had a fever?” He hung up his call abruptly and clumsily draped his suit jacket over me. I thought I heard him call me by my childhood nickname, Ellie. I must have been delirious from the fever. I managed a bitter smile. He always called me by my full name, Eleanor, terrified that if he used a pet name, I might delude myself into thinking I was the Davis daughter he actually wanted to marry. People are probably more fragile—and more clear-headed—when they’re sick. A deep exhaustion washed over me. Exhaustion toward him, and toward this unrequited love. The car started moving again, the speed making it hard to tell how fast we were going. He seemed to be constantly answering his phone. “Almost there,” “Get a doctor ready,” “It’s going to be okay.” Or maybe it was just a hallucination. Until the car stopped again. I struggled to lift my heavy head and watched him unbuckle his seatbelt and jump out of the car. He sprinted toward a frail silhouette standing near the ER entrance. Riley was tightly engulfed in his arms. Those fragmented phrases I had heard earlier finally pieced together into a complete picture. “Wait for me,” “Don’t do anything rash,” “I’m almost there,” “Be good,” “It’s going to be okay.” Every single word had been for her. From a short distance away, I could hear her pathetic sobbing. And I could hear him gently coaxing her. “How could I let you do something that hurts your body?” “Alright, alright, we won’t break up. We’ll figure out the baby situation together.” The thoughts swirling in my head dragged up a deeply buried, painful memory. Six months into our marriage, I had actually been pregnant. Chapter 5 Back then, I was walking on eggshells in the Hayes household while constantly running around putting out financial fires for my parents. Before I even realized I was pregnant, the baby’s heartbeat had already stopped. I would never forget Carter’s freezing voice outside my hospital room. “It’s for the best. It shouldn’t have existed in the first place.” After that day, we seemed to reach an unspoken understanding. He went back to being a playboy. As long as the Davis family was kept afloat. He could date whoever he wanted, as long as he didn’t marry them, and as long as… no one got pregnant. Now, he was the one who broke the promise first. The Davis family had become an empty shell following the passing of my parents a few years ago. And as for him, I didn’t want to force it anymore. I leaned against the car window, every breath I exhaled burning hot. I watched him calm Riley down before he finally came back to me. He opened the car door, draped my arm over his neck, and carried me all the way into the ER. Looking over his shoulder, I saw Riley sniffle and shoot me a look of pure contempt. As he walked past her, she unwillingly tried to grab his shirt. But she missed. He walked with long, purposeful strides, his handsome face set in a grim expression. He always managed to give me these illusions; no matter how long he wandered, he would always turn back to me. But this time, I shook my head. I was the first to wake up. “Carter, let’s get a divorce.” His footsteps faltered, but his eyes didn’t meet mine. “Hmm?” “A divorce. Okay?” The expression on his face was complicated—shifting from dark to confused, before finally settling into a soft chuckle. “Why not wait a little longer? Maybe in a few years…” He glanced at me, his smile full of mockery. “I’ll actually settle down.” I smiled too, my eyes burning. The fever was probably spiking again. “What do we do, then? There’s no spark left. We might as well just be bros.” In an instant, Carter’s face froze. His jaw clenched so hard the muscles in his cheek bulged. “Still not enough spark for you?” My vision was already blurring with tears, but I forced myself to keep smiling. “We never should have gotten married. It should have been exactly like you said back then.” “‘Eleanor Davis? I’d rather be blood brothers with her!’” Chapter 6 Carter obviously didn’t need to be “bros” with me anymore. The Davis family had thoroughly drained the Hayes family’s resources over the last ten years. We had become nothing but a burden. So when news of our impending divorce leaked, everyone in the Hayes family seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief. I pushed through my raging fever, forced myself to sign the divorce papers, and then fell into a coma-like sleep for two days. When I woke up, the papers on my nightstand already had Carter’s signature at the bottom. I stared at it for a few seconds. Beneath the numbness, I felt a twinge of guilt. The agreement wasn’t exactly noble, let alone generous on my part. Over the years, every time I helped him deal with one of his “exes,” he would wire me a lump sum. I saved every single penny, yet here I was in the property division, ruthlessly paving my own financial way out. As shrewd as he was, he definitely saw through my “insatiable greed.” But he signed it without a moment of hesitation anyway. It left me feeling hollow for a long time. Maybe he had been waiting for me to say the word “divorce” all along. Even if it meant paying me off, it was better than being shackled to me in a miserable marriage for another ten years. My temperature was finally back to normal. I dragged my aching body up to pack my bags. Ten long years of my life, packed away into barely two suitcases. I dragged them downstairs. The maids and the driver watched me awkwardly. “Mrs… Ms. Davis, should we notify Mr. Hayes that you’re leaving?” I shook my head. “No need.” And so, no one said goodbye, and no one stepped forward to help. They froze for a couple of seconds before returning to their chores. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness. Even they knew I was nothing more than a passing guest in this house. When the towncar I called pulled out of the Hayes estate, I didn’t look back. The memories that had started in my childhood had finally come to an end. In the heavy silence of the car, the driver asked, “Do you need a tissue, miss?” Only then did I realize my face was wet with tears. I was supposed to feel liberated. But a bird locked in a cage for too long will always feel terrified when the door suddenly swings open. From the estate to JFK airport, I printed my boarding pass and threw away my SIM card. The moment I sat in my seat on the plane, I fell into a deep sleep. These past few days, I felt like I had an endless supply of exhaustion. I had lost my center of gravity. I just wanted to retreat into my dreams and silently lick my wounds. Twelve hours later, I touched down in London. Chapter 7 At that moment, I had no idea that Carter was tearing New York apart trying to find me. London was where Evelyn had always wanted to go. She never made it, but I did. Wandering the gloomy, fog-covered streets, I often caught myself hallucinating that I was Evelyn. No one knew that my grueling dedication to painting didn’t come from a genuine passion. It was just because painting made me more like her. By some twist of fate, Evelyn eventually gave up and never picked up a brush again. Instead, I was the one put on a pedestal, hailed as a genius whose canvas could speak. My ten years of marriage to Carter were also the peak of my artistic career. Now, dozens of those pieces were on display in London’s largest modern art museum. I spent half a month in a complete daze before finally stepping into the gallery on the very last day of the exhibition. As expected, the crowd was sparse. Bundled in my trench coat, I took my time, lingering freely in front of each piece. I passed Combustion and Caged Bird, finally stopping in front of Bloom. Someone stopped beside me. Like me, his gaze fell on the withered girl’s face on the canvas. “‘Bloom.’ Using life itself as fuel, only to be a moth drawn to a futile flame.” He chuckled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. When he turned to look at me, it felt like he was looking through me at someone else. The look filled me with disgust. For the past ten years, Carter had given me that exact same feeling. I stepped away, but he followed me at a leisurely pace. “You two look very much alike.” My footsteps faltered, my fingers involuntarily curling inward. His eerie voice drifted over. “Evelyn always said you had more natural talent for painting than she did.” “She also said you were more suited to marry into the Hayes family. She said you were born with wings and could never be trapped.” My palms were beginning to sweat. His tone shifted, his smile now dripping with mockery. “But she never imagined you’d be stupid enough to break your own wings and willingly play the puppet.” A sharp pain pierced my chest. Unable to tolerate it any longer, I turned and glared at him. “Ethan Brooks, isn’t it enough that you got her killed…” Before I could finish my sentence, I stared in shock at a furious Carter Hayes standing just a few feet away. He stalked toward us, his entire body radiating a freezing, murderous aura. Without a word, he grabbed my arm and physically ripped me away from Ethan. The fury boiling in his eyes was tinged with bitter sarcasm. “Looking for a spark? It seems the Davis sisters have the exact same terrible taste in men.” With his free hand, he lunged forward, grabbing Ethan by the throat and slamming him violently against the gallery wall. With a deafening crash, Carter ground out every word through his teeth. “Didn’t I tell you I never wanted to see your face again?” Chapter 8 Ethan just leaned casually against the wall, making no effort to break free. “Mr. Hayes, if you had just approved that investment funding you promised, why would I have needed to come find her?” He glanced sideways at me, his eyes full of contempt. “Your family owes me Evelyn’s life. No amount of money will ever be enough.” I listened in a daze as Carter’s grip tightened. Ethan’s face started turning a dark, mottled red. “Wait…” I had seen Ethan before. When the airline confirmed Evelyn’s plane had crashed with no survivors, he showed up at the Davis estate. It was the first time I had ever seen a walking corpse. It looked as if all the life in him had died alongside my sister. He knelt on the floor, slamming his forehead against the marble tiles until blood streamed down his face. “I just want to take some of Evelyn’s things. Her clothes, anything… please.” But my parents, blindingly furious, just beat him mercilessly before having the guards drag him out and throw him onto the street. Carter finally snapped out of his rage and abruptly released his grip. He waved his hand impatiently. “Get out. Go see my assistant for your money.” The bodyguards who had followed Carter into the gallery moved to grab Ethan and drag him away. I rushed forward two steps. “Wait, what did you mean by what you just said…” Carter blocked my path, his hands clamping down on my shoulders like iron vises. “It’s nothing. Come back with me.” I violently wrestled myself out of his grip, lunging forward to grab Ethan’s collar. “You just want money, right? I’ll pay you! Explain exactly what you just meant!” My heart was hammering in my chest. A wave of unprecedented panic made my breathing ragged. Ethan brushed the guards off and casually looked past me at Carter. “Last month, while I was waiting for that investment check of yours to clear, I had an epiphany.” “Ten years is more than enough time to prove that I’m just not cut out to be a businessman. No matter what industry I try, the money just burns.” “So when I heard the news that you two were getting a divorce, I finally let it all go.” “There’s one more free person in this world now. The only tragedy is that it isn’t my Evelyn.” He looked down at me, his eyes burning with intensity. “The night before her engagement, Carter knew exactly what Evelyn was planning.” “The people who helped her sneak out of the Davis estate were hired by Carter. Even the plane ticket…” “Carter bought it for her.” An echo swirled in my ears, dragging me back ten years to a specific memory. Through a cracked door, I had overheard my parents pleading pathetically with Carter. “Should we just move the wedding up? The announcement only said a union between the Hayes and Davis families, it didn’t specify which daughter…” After a few seconds of dead silence, Carter’s voice responded, completely devoid of emotion. “The sooner the better. I refuse to let the Hayes family’s reputation sink to the same pathetic level as yours.” Chapter 9 Ethan laughed recklessly. “You did everything in your power to marry her, and for what? You spent ten years turning her into the biggest joke in New York.” Having my pathetic reality laid bare like that made me want to disappear into the floorboards. But I still couldn’t understand. Why did Carter help my sister run away? “Why? Why did you let her go, only to turn around and torture my family?” Carter pressed his thin lips tightly together, his hands clenching into fists. After a long time, he let out a soft, bitter laugh. “Because she wasn’t the one I loved.” “Your parents completely misunderstood my intentions. They tried to use Evelyn as a bargaining chip.” “I went to your house constantly. Whenever Evelyn and I went anywhere, I made sure you came with us. But you never even looked me in the eye.” I thought my ears were ringing. Was that an undercurrent of resentment in his voice? His clenched fists slowly relaxed, and he stared at me, looking utterly lost. “I gave Evelyn her freedom, and I got to marry you, just like I wanted.” “But I knew from the very beginning that you were forced into it. Evelyn’s death, your family’s endless scheming… all of it stood like a wall between us.” I couldn’t help but smile bitterly. Was that really the only thing standing between us? Ethan walked over, pulled a yellowed envelope from his coat pocket, and handed it to me. “Evelyn left this for you. Ten years ago, if she had landed safely, this letter would have reached you back then.” The envelope was scorched at the edges. Inside were two expired exhibition tickets. Attached was a small note in Evelyn’s elegant handwriting. [Ellie, be brave. Only by doing what I did will you find true happiness.] Carter’s eyes darkened instantly, and he snatched the note from my hand. He stared at me in total, absolute disbelief. The familiar sense of emotional distance washed over me again. I looked up at him slowly. “Evelyn actually knew everything.” “She knew how much I loved you back then.” “Do you remember my very first solo exhibition? The one that got cancelled? The entire gallery was filled with portraits of you.” A bitter smile floated to my lips. “I was afraid it would break my sister’s heart if she saw it, so I painted a few portraits of her and scattered them around as a cover.” “I told her it was a gift for your one-year anniversary.” I had spent three grueling months preparing for it, and anxiously slipped the tickets into my sister’s desk drawer. But when I walked downstairs, the joyous, celebratory atmosphere hit me like a physical blow. The next day was their engagement party. Chapter 10 The language of a paintbrush never lies. Evelyn must have peeked under the white sheet covering my easel countless times. She saw all the hidden, unspoken longing in my strokes as I sketched Carter’s face. Now that everything was out in the open, I could finally look back at the past through a different lens. The time we went on the Ferris wheel… she claimed she was afraid of heights and pushed me into the cabin alone with Carter. When we got off, she smiled brightly and stared at us. “You know, looking at you two side-by-side, you actually look pretty good together.” My face had burned bright red. I was terrified she had seen right through my secret crush. But Carter just looked away. “Eleanor? I’d rather be blood brothers with her.” His tone was teasing. “She’s such a quiet little introvert. Come on, call me ‘Big Bro,’ and I’ll protect you from now on.” I ran away from them with a burning red face, the sound of my racing heart drowning in a surge of deep sorrow. After that day, I always used painting as an excuse to hide in the studio. I avoided all their invitations. I couldn’t lock my heart away when I was young, but thankfully, Carter spent the next ten years cementing it shut for me. Meeting his gaze now, there was no flutter in my chest. The sudden flash of ecstatic realization in his eyes vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced entirely by confusion and panic. “You mean… back then, you…” It didn’t matter anymore. I pulled my coat tighter around myself and walked toward the exit. Carter chased after me frantically. Outside the museum, he grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to face him. “Why didn’t you tell me?! We had so many years, why didn’t you say anything?!” “Did you really have to wait until…” I finished his sentence for him, my voice perfectly calm. “Until everything was damaged beyond repair, and all the love was completely burned out? Yes.” He was struck speechless for a moment, then slowly exhaled, a long-lost look of relief washing over his face. “It doesn’t have to be like this. We’re still legally married. We can tear up the divorce papers right now.” I gently pushed his hands away and took a step back, creating distance between us. “But my desire to leave you hasn’t changed.” He stared at me, aghast. “Even after finding out the truth? Nothing changed?” “Nothing.” His face instantly darkened like a thundercloud. I spoke slowly. “I always regretted that you never got to see that exhibition where I planned to confess to you.” “I booked this exhibition all the way out here because I assumed you wouldn’t be interested in coming.” “But since you’re here, take a look. Every single painting on these walls is my final goodbye.”

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My novel about a secret high school crush went totally viral, and the film rights were snapped up almost immediately. Then, Cole Sterling—an Oscar-winning actor who had stepped away from Hollywood for years—suddenly dropped a bombshell on Twitter, announcing he was taking the male lead. The internet exploded. Netizens quickly dug up the fact that Cole had a “one that got away” back in high school. And the rising “It girl” cast as the female lead? She just so happened to graduate from Westbridge High, too. Overnight, the shippers lost their minds. The whole internet was waiting for this “second-chance romance” novel to bleed into reality. At the press conference, a reporter deliberately asked: “Mr. Sterling, if you had to choose a word to describe our leading lady, what would it be? An angel? A muse?” Cole suddenly raised his eyes, looked directly at me standing in the wings, and said coldly: “A liar.” “Excuse me?” The reporter froze. Cole calmly looked away. “I said, she’s a liar.” 1 The table read. “In the original book, the two leads clearly love each other. Why did they have a tragic ending?” someone whispered at the table. Cole’s fingertips traced heavily over the script page. He spoke coldly. “I’m quite curious about that myself.” I looked up in shock, then quickly lowered my head. Cole didn’t push the question. His gaze returned to the script. I shifted further into the corner, clutching my phone, trying to make myself invisible. Twitter was melting down. Under the trending hashtags #ColeSterlingReturns and #SecondChanceCast, a blurry high school yearbook photo was being reposted thousands of times. In the photo, a seventeen-year-old Cole was ignoring the camera, his intense gaze fixed on a specific spot off-screen. And in that blurry, out-of-focus corner of the frame was the slender back of a teenage girl. “This is definitely not a coincidence! Cole and Sierra Fontaine both went to Westbridge High!” “I remember Sierra had short hair in high school! That girl has to be her.” “Fiction becoming reality! I’m screaming, I ship them so hard.” The assistant director sitting next to me nudged my elbow, winking like a gossip. “Are you shipping them too?” “No, I just happened to see it on my timeline…” “Wait, I just remembered you went to Westbridge High too! Tell me, did the A-lister really have a crush on a girl back then?” I quietly locked my phone screen and looked up. “Cole and I… we weren’t close.” Right at that moment, the director called cut. Cole lifted his heavy eyelids. Across the crowded room, his eyes locked onto mine. The director hesitated. “Cole, your energy is a bit off here. This is their big reunion scene. The way you look at the female lead should be a mix of love and burning resentment… Harper, wouldn’t you agree?” I hurriedly looked away and cleared my throat. “Yes.” “Harper, as the screenwriter, I feel the emotional beat here is wrong,” Cole smirked, but his eyes were pure ice. “Why don’t you teach me?” Everyone’s eyes slammed into me. The director chimed in: “Sierra’s flight was delayed, she’s not here yet. Harper, why don’t you stand in and run the lines with him?” “I don’t think that’s appropriate. I don’t know how to act.” I waved my hands, forcing an awkward smile. Cole spoke flatly, “I have an interview tonight. I’m on a tight schedule.” Eager to please him, the director shoved my shoulder, urging me up with his eyes. I was forced to stand. Cole instantly closed the distance between us. The script clearly said the male lead grabs the female lead’s wrist. Instead, his hand clamped around the back of my neck. He pulled me in, whispering harshly against my ear: “When you dumped me, you didn’t have this pathetic look on your face, did you?” “If I recall correctly, you were smiling.” My breath hitched. The script slipped from my hands, hitting the floor with a smack. Maybe the AC was turned too low, but I felt my entire body trembling. “Why did you leave back then?” He pulled back slightly, his dialogue completely deviating from the script. “Answer me!” Cole pinned me against the wall, his hands slamming on either side of my head. His knuckles were white from the force. His chest was heaving as if a fire was burning through his ribs. My heart stuttered. My eyelashes fluttered wildly. “I’m sorry…” Cole’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He forcibly swallowed the emotions that were threatening to tear his chest apart. “I’m only going to ask you one thing.” “Did you ever actually love me?” he gritted out, his eyes rimmed red. The room held its breath. The director yelled from the monitors: “Yes! That’s the energy! Hold onto that, Cole!” I opened my mouth, my throat bone-dry. “I…” The red light on the camera suddenly flipped on. The heavy doors swung open, and Sierra Fontaine walked in with her entourage. The courage I had just mustered to speak was instantly shattered. “I am so sorry I’m late!” Sierra chimed. “I bought artisanal lattes for everyone to make up for it!” The director pulled off his headphones. “Alright, we’ll stop there for now. That take was absolutely perfect!” The crew cheered and swarmed the new arrivals. I was still frozen against the wall, my chest hollow. Cole suddenly chuckled. His thumb casually brushed against the small red birthmark on the side of my neck. Back in high school, he always joked that even in our next life, he would be able to find me by this exact mark. Now, his warm breath fanned across that very spot. “Screenwriter Harper.” “Acting like that feels much more real, doesn’t it?” I snapped back to reality and sluggishly took a half-step back. “You? You look so familiar.” Sierra’s gaze stopped the moment it swept over me. “Have we met before?” I stared back at her. “A long time ago. Yes.” “Oh, I’m so sorry, I must have forgotten.” Sierra shrugged, not caring in the slightest. “Want a latte? It’s hot.” She casually grabbed a cup and handed it to me. I instinctively flinched, pulling my neck back. My face went chalk-white. “Are you feeling okay?” she asked. “I’m fine. Just been standing too long.” “Make sure you get some rest! If you need any meds, just ask my assistant. My trailer is fully stocked.” She turned her back to me, pulled a separate insulated bag from her assistant, and walked toward Cole with a bright smile. “Your coffee. The usual. Cold brew, no ice.” Just a few words, but it practically screamed intimacy. “Thanks.” As Cole stepped back to take it, I caught sight of the diamond ring on Sierra’s ring finger. It was the exact same design as the one the paparazzi had caught Cole buying at a luxury jeweler just days ago. The assistant director leaned over to me, letting out a suppressed squeal and shaking my shoulders. “That coffee shop is all the way downtown! The line takes two hours minimum. O-M-G. Her flight was delayed and she still went out of her way to get him his specific drink!” “Harper! I knew my ship was real.” “Tell me the truth, are they the inspiration for your novel? At the press con, he already admitted he’s the male lead. Stop keeping us in suspense!” I lowered my eyes and said softly, “If I told you the female lead was actually based on me, would you believe it?” The AD let out a loud “Ha!” “Harper, I didn’t know you were one of his delusional fangirls!” “No wonder you don’t ship them.” I watched their matching silhouettes under the studio spotlights, suddenly grateful I hadn’t blurted out the truth in the heat of the moment. The gap between us was too vast. Even the truth sounded like a pathetic joke. “Well, at least you got to meet your crush. Oh, right, what did Cole mean at the press conference when he called you a liar? Was that just a PR stunt to build hype?” I took a deep breath, trying to hide the tremor in my voice. “He… wasn’t lying.” Ten years ago, I really was the one who lied to him first. 2 Sierra had to reshoot a drowning scene. “A stunt double?” The director frowned. “This is the climax where the female lead gets bullied. We need your face…” Sierra’s manager immediately changed her tune. “Director, Sierra is getting her period soon. Putting her in freezing water for the next two days will be agonizing for her.” “But we didn’t prep a water stunt double. Finding one now will put us behind schedule.” Sierra tugged on her assistant’s hand and turned to the director. “Director, my manager is just worried about me, please forgive her tone.” “How about this? I’ll suck it up and do the close-ups in the water.” Sierra looked me up and down. “For the wide shots of the actual drowning, let the screenwriter stand in for me. She’s the only one here with a similar build.” Her manager chimed in coldly. “Director, Cole only signed onto this project for Sierra. If she gets sick, can you take responsibility?” Classic good cop, bad cop. The director looked torn. “I still need to ask Harper if she’s comfortable with it.” Sierra smiled sweetly at me. “Please, Harper? Pretty please?” “I heard you helped run lines with Cole the other day. Why won’t you help me? Aww, are you trying to isolate me?” “I’m sorry, I’m not a trained professional. Going on camera isn’t appropriate.” “It’s fine, it’s just a wide shot. I’ll teach you!” Sierra stood up from her director’s chair. She approached me with a beaming smile—and suddenly shoved me hard in the chest. Caught completely off guard, I lost my balance and plunged backward into the pool. The deep autumn water felt like a million icy needles. The moment I went under, the memory overlapped with that day I was seventeen, being violently shoved into the deep end of the high school pool. Blind panic swallowed me whole. I thrashed wildly, but my limbs felt bound by invisible ropes, heavy and useless. Water rushed in from everywhere, filling my nose, ears, and throat. Sierra’s delighted laughter grew muffled and distorted. The director realized something was wrong and signaled the lifeguard, but Sierra stopped him. “Wow, she’s such a good actress!” “It looks so real!” The world blurred. The light cutting through the surface of the water shattered like broken glass across my vision. Right as I was on the brink of suffocating… Sierra grabbed a fistful of my hair and hauled my head above the surface. She leaned in close to my ear and smiled. “Don’t think I don’t know what you cheap sluts are plotting.” “Stay away from Cole.” “Or next time, I’ll actually kill you.” My lungs burned like they were on fire. I coughed violently, unable to string a single word together. “Harper, are you okay?” Sierra shoved my head back under the water, giggling. “Director, don’t yell cut! You’ll ruin her performance. Let’s get one more take for safety!” I sucked in a desperate breath, grabbed her wrists with both hands, and yanked her down into the pool with me. “Help—” Sierra tried to scream, but only spat out a string of bubbles. “Quick, the life preserver!” “Sierra can’t swim!” “Somebody help! Sierra’s drowning!” The crew on the deck erupted into chaos. I locked my arms around Sierra and refused to let go. Over the frantic footsteps, I heard a crew member’s shocked voice: “Why is Mr. Sterling back from his press tour early?” “Wait, Cole, you can’t jump in!” Sierra kicked me hard. “Cole, I’m over here—!” The heel of her designer boot dug into my stomach. A piercing pain shot through me. I sank deeper, my consciousness slipping away into the dark. 3 The sharp smell of antiseptic invaded my nose. When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was the champagne-gold curtains of Cole’s private trailer. “You’re awake?” He immediately reached out to check my forehead. “Your fever hasn’t broken. I’ll have the set medic come back.” “Don’t bother.” I tried to sit up, only to realize his other hand was pinning down my right wrist—the one with the IV drip. Right over the faded, circular burn scar left by Sierra putting out a cigarette on my skin years ago. “The doctor said you have old injuries all over your body. Not just this one.” He suddenly spoke. “What exactly happened back then?” My breathing stopped. My memory rewound to that suffocating, humid afternoon. Curled up inside a metal locker in the girls’ changing room, counting the slivers of light coming through the vents, listening to Sierra and her squad discuss how they were going to “teach me a lesson” in the deep end of the pool. Cole’s crucial Juilliard audition was in two days. Because of that, I chose to hide my soaked, ruined uniform at the very bottom of my backpack and say nothing. “You’re overthinking it.” I heard my own voice trembling. The air in the trailer instantly froze. Cole aggressively grabbed my chin, his grip so tight it felt like he might shatter the bone. A dark storm raged in his eyes. The calm, refined facade he wore for the public completely shattered. “Harper Ellis, what the hell do you take me for?” I looked at the shiny new ring impression on his ring finger and suddenly let out a laugh. I laughed so hard the salty taste of tears slid into the corner of my mouth. “In what capacity are you interrogating me right now, Mr. Sterling? My ex-boyfriend? Someone else’s fiancé? Or an A-list actor handing out charity?” His pupils contracted sharply. “What the hell are you talking about?” The moment he let go of my chin, the trailer door burst open. “Cole!” Sierra rushed in, wrapped in a plush blanket, pathetic, beautiful tears hanging from her lashes. “I thought I was never going to see you again…” The diamond ring on her finger caught the light, stinging my retinas. “Why did the screenwriter drag me into the water?” She exposed the purpling bruises on her pale arms. “Did I do something wrong? Did I make her mad?” “Security footage,” I interrupted her sobbing. “The set has 24-hour surveillance.” Sierra’s crying abruptly stopped. She stared at me for a few seconds, then grabbed a fruit knife from the counter, held it to her wrist, and looked at Cole with tear-soaked eyes. “The camera in that area has been broken for days. Harper knew that, which is why she dared to attack me.” “Cole, if you’re going to believe her lies, I’ll kill myself right now to prove my innocence!” “Enough.” Cole snatched the knife from her, his voice low and dangerous. He turned his back to her and looked at me. “Starting tomorrow, you’re off the crew.” A ringing sound exploded in my ears. I gripped the bedsheets, my nails digging into my palms. “On what grounds?” “This is my project.” “On the grounds that I am the lead investor.” He turned his back to me, his voice freezing cold. “Your full compensation will be wired to your account. Not a penny less.” Sierra raised an eyebrow at me and mouthed silently: You lose. My heart seized. I stumbled out of the bed. The medical ID bracelet on my wrist caught the edge of a photo frame on the nightstand, sending it crashing to the floor. Amidst the sound of shattering glass, I saw the 17-year-old Cole in the yearbook photo, staring at a specific spot. And the blurry girl in the corner wasn’t Sierra at all. It was me. My back, intentionally cropped out of the frame. He really did hate me. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have purposely signed onto my project just to kick me off and humiliate me. I rubbed my eyes and said softly, “I understand.” “Wait.” Sierra suddenly blocked my path. She leaned in close, her breath carrying a sickly, serpentine sweetness. “Harper.” “I remember now. You’re that pathetic little loser who used to hide and cry in the locker rooms.” The blood in my veins turned to ice. After all this time, I was still terrified of her proximity. The sick joke was that she had just remembered. The depth of memory is always inversely proportional. The abuser brushes it off like dust, while the victim has it carved into their bones. She stroked her diamond ring like a trophy. “The way you’re getting kicked off this set right now looks exactly like how you used to run away clutching your backpack.” She smiled radiantly. “Only this time, you can’t just transfer schools.” “Sierra.” I heard my own voice, completely numb. “Do you know how long it takes for a person to bleed out from a severed carotid artery?” She froze. “Three minutes.” I picked up a large, jagged shard of glass from the broken frame on the floor. “Want to find out?” Sierra stumbled backward in terror. Cole stared at me intensely. “Harper, calm down.” The glass dug into my palm. The sharp pain kept me lucid. Warm blood slid down my wrist, dripping onto the floor. I took a half-step back, letting the blood fall. “Don’t panic.” I looked up at Cole, forcing a twisted smile. I had already made up my mind to accept reality, so why did my heart still hurt so damn much? “I’m just scaring her.” I stepped around them and walked toward the door. At the threshold, I turned back to look at Sierra. “But next time, who knows.” 4 As I walked down the stairwell, I heard muffled, suppressed sobbing. I hesitated for a moment, then walked over. A small, petite girl was crying while applying ointment to dark bruises on her arms. Her eyes and nose were completely red. I recognized her. It was Mia, Sierra’s young assistant. My eyelashes fluttered. I softened my voice. “Do you need help?” She jumped, instinctively hiding her arms behind her back. I sighed and held my hand out to her. “Rubbing it like that will just make it hurt more.” “Let me.” She hesitated for a long time before speaking timidly. “Thank you, Ms. Ellis.” I took the cotton swab. “I used a really good scar-removal cream a while ago. I’ll text you the link later.” “Um…” she stammered. “Did you… accidentally hurt yourself before too?” “Are you sure you did this to yourself by accident?” I asked. “Yes, I was just clumsy.” I smiled and didn’t call her out on the lie. “Well, I wasn’t clumsy. I was bullied.” “What?” She looked shocked, her eyes filling with empathy. “Do you know the fastest way to heal?” I asked. I tilted my head, gently took her hand, and softly blew cool air over her bruised skin. The tips of her ears turned pink. “What is it?” I winked at her. “Hit them back.” Her tightly knit brows relaxed, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Thank you, Harper.” I patted the top of her head. “By the way, my writing studio is currently short-staffed.” “I remember you graduated with a degree in literature, right? Do you want to come work for me starting tomorrow?” “But Ms. Fontaine…” “I can have a word with the director.” Her eyes instantly lit up. “I’d love to!” “See you tomorrow, then.” “See you tomorrow, Harper.”

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“How much is one plus one?” On the darkened interstate, my brother’s voice cut through the hum of the tires. It was a sudden, sharp test. I hesitated, my small voice trembling. “It’s… it’s…” Before I could find the answer, my mother’s hand flew across the seat. The slap cracked against my cheek, stinging like fire. “I have a Master’s from Stanford,” she hissed, her eyes wild with a cold, academic fury. “Your father has a PhD from MIT. Your brother is a certified math prodigy, a straight-A student. And you? You have to think about one plus one? You’re a defect, Chloe. A total failure.” My face burned, but the terror in my chest hurt worse. I shook my head, tears blurring my vision. “Mom, please, don’t be mad. I’m not a failure. It’s just… Sebastian told me—” She didn’t want to hear it. She slammed on the brakes, pulling the SUV onto the narrow, gravelly shoulder of the highway. “Get out,” she commanded. “A child who only carries inferior genes doesn’t belong in this car with us. You want to be slow? Fine. Walk the rest of the way. Maybe the cold will wake up your brain.” I begged. I screamed. I tried to grab the door handle as they pulled away, but they were gone. Then came the blinding glare of high beams from behind. A massive shadow loomed, and suddenly, my body felt weightless. Like a dandelion seed caught in a gale. I found myself floating, moving faster than I ever could on my feet. I caught up to my parents’ car in an instant. “Mom! Dad! I’m not a failure!” I cried out, though they couldn’t hear me. “My teacher says I’m an artist! She says everyone has their own light!” 1 “A child’s average stride is between twelve and twenty inches,” my mother had said before she pushed me out. “I’ve calculated it for you. It’s exactly three thousand steps from here to the next rest area. Consider this your penance. It’s meant to trigger your survival instinct, to force that dull brain of yours to finally integrate with this family.” She had turned then, stepping back into the warmth of the leather interior without a second glance. I had chased after the car, sobbing. “Mom, please! Don’t leave me here!” The window rolled down just an inch. She tossed a small, high-end vlogging camera—the latest 4K model—onto the asphalt. “This has a built-in tracker and a lens that doesn’t lie,” she said coldly. “It’ll record everything. Don’t you dare stop counting. Stay in the emergency lane and watch for traffic.” That was her final instruction. The glass slid up, sealing them away in their climate-controlled world. I watched the red glow of the taillights shrink into the freezing mist of the December night until they vanished entirely. “Mom, it’s so cold,” I whispered. The weather app on her phone had warned of a cold front—ten degrees below zero. She had been so focused on my “lesson” that she forgot to give me my coat. I picked up the small camera, holding it like a lifeline. I looked into the lens, my breath coming in ragged white clouds. “Mom, I’m not a failure,” I told the unblinking eye. “I’m the best painter in my class. Mrs. Gable says everyone is good at different things.” But the camera didn’t talk back. I wiped my nose with the back of my hand, trying to be brave. I started to walk. I started to count. “One, two, three…” The air felt like it was turning to glass in my lungs. My steps grew shorter, my legs heavier. By the time I reached one thousand, they felt like pillars of salt. My foot caught on a piece of shredded tire, and I went down hard. My knees hit the gravel with a sickening crunch. The pain was a white-hot spike through my body. I looked into the lens, sobbing. “I’m sorry, Mom. It hurts so much. I just need to rest for ten seconds. Just ten.” In our house, everything was a game of numbers. Success brought rewards; failure brought “intervals.” Sebastian always won the rewards. I always got the intervals. Ten seconds of being ignored. Ten seconds of the “thinking corner.” Ten seconds of being told how much of a disappointment I was. Back then, ten seconds felt like an eternity. Now, it felt like a heartbeat. When the time was up, I forced myself to crawl, then stand. My leggings were soaked through with blood at the knees, and every step felt like walking on broken glass. I bit my lip. Just 1,970 more steps and I’d be at the rest stop. Grandma and Grandpa were waiting for us at the cabin with Christmas dinner. But the cold was winning. My vision began to swim with white, feathery shapes—ghostly flowers blooming in the dark. “Mom,” I whimpered to the camera. “I don’t think I can walk anymore.” She didn’t answer. Behind me, a wall of artificial suns erupted. I hadn’t realized I’d drifted away from the shoulder and into the center lane. When I “woke up,” the world was quiet. And I was as light as air. 2 Being weightless meant I caught up to them easily. They were at a roadside Starbucks inside the rest area. The table was covered in warm paninis and steaming lattes. My mother was hovering over Sebastian, pressing a thermos into his hands. “It’s freezing out there, Seb. You have to drink this tea. Stay hydrated.” Sebastian took a reluctant sip. My throat felt like it was made of sandpaper. I reached out, my ghostly hand hovering over the steam. “Mom, I’m thirsty too,” I whispered. She didn’t look up. She was peeling an orange for my brother, her movements precise and elegant. It was as if I didn’t exist. My father checked his Rolex, his brow furrowing slightly. “We’ve been here an hour, Madeline. Chloe should have been here by now. Maybe we should… I don’t know, check on her?” Hope flared in my chest. Dad. You remembered. “Dad! I’m right here! There was a big truck, and I was so tired, and then everything went quiet…” I shouted at the top of my lungs, but he just Adjusted his glasses. My mother sighed, her voice laced with irritation. “Christopher, it’s barely two miles. It’s nothing.” “If it were Sebastian, he’d have run it in fifteen minutes,” she continued. “Chloe has been manipulative since she was a toddler. She’s probably dawdling just to make us feel guilty. She needs to build some grit, or she’ll never survive in the real world.” Sebastian nodded, his face smug. He wasn’t just a math genius; he was a star on the junior soccer team. “She’s basic,” he muttered. “If she doesn’t toughen up, she’s going to be a burden on the family forever.” He looked down at his phone. He was the one who started it in the car—asking me those math questions just to watch me squirm. I used to let him. I used to smile and try to play along because he was my big brother. But now, a cold spark of anger flickered in my spirit. “I’m not a burden! You’re mean, Sebastian! You’re the reason I had to get out!” My father hesitated, looking out the window at the thick, swirling fog. His worry seemed to evaporate as quickly as it had appeared. “You’re right. Two miles… an adult does that in twenty minutes. Factor in her age and the conditions, she’s just being slow. We’ll give her another thirty minutes.” My heart sank. I’d always been a “sickly” child. I got winded easily. They knew that. But they had decided to wait. Another hour passed. Sebastian started complaining about being bored. Just then, a couple walked into the shop, shivering and breathless. Their conversation cut through the quiet. “I’m glad we left at midnight, but the traffic is backed up for miles now,” the man said. “Did you see that wreck?” the woman added, her voice trembling. “It was horrific. A semi-truck… they said it was a kid. There was… god, there was nothing left.” My father flinched. The color drained from my mother’s face. She fumbled for her phone, opening the tracking app for the camera. She saw the little blue dot on the map. It was moving. Fast. Relief washed over her, instantly replaced by a sharp, jagged anger. “That little brat,” she hissed, showing the screen to my father. “Look. The camera is moving at sixty miles an hour. She must have hitched a ride with a stranger to play the victim. She didn’t walk a single step of her punishment!” “We’re leaving,” she snapped, grabbing her coat. “If she’s brave enough to get into a stranger’s car, she can find her own way to the cabin. We aren’t waiting another second for a liar.” I panicked. I threw myself in front of her. “Mom, no! It’s not a stranger! That’s an ambulance! I’m in the ambulance!” But she walked right through me. She bundled Sebastian up in his designer parka, gripped my father’s arm, and marched out to the car. I cried as I followed them. The sirens of the ambulance were getting closer in the distance, but my father hit the gas, merging onto the highway and heading toward the mountains. We reached the cabin soon after. I tried to run to my grandparents, to feel their hug, but I just drifted through them like smoke. 3 Christmas at the cabin was usually my favorite time of year. But now, I couldn’t stop crying. My grandmother ran out to the driveway, pulling Sebastian into a hug before peering into the back seat. “Where’s Chloe? Where’s my girl?” “Grandma, I’m right here,” I sobbed, reaching for her sleeve. My mother brushed past her, hauling a suitcase. “She’s coming with a friend. She’ll be here later.” “It’s freezing out, Eleanor,” she added sharply. “Sebastian has been in the car for six hours. He’s exhausted and hungry. Focus on your grandson for once.” My grandmother’s mouth snapped shut. She looked at my father, who simply gave a curt nod. She sighed, her eyes searching the dark road one last time. “Alright, alright. I’ve got the pot roast in the oven and homemade cinnamon rolls. Come in, get warm.” The cabin smelled like pine and sugar. They all sat down to eat, laughing and talking. I sat on the floor, clutching my stomach. I was so hungry. I wanted a cinnamon roll so badly. “Chloe loves these,” Grandma said, her voice soft as she looked at the empty chair. “I saved a special batch for her. I’ll warm them up the minute she walks through that door.” I sniffed, the tears starting again. After dinner, the house grew quiet. Grandma finished the dishes and looked at the clock again. It had been hours. “Christopher, Madeline… enough,” she said, her voice stern. “Where is she? Whose car is she in? Call them. Now. A six-year-old shouldn’t be out this late on New Year’s Eve.” The room went silent. My father shifted in his seat. “She should be here soon. Any minute.” His vague answer didn’t satisfy them. “Whose car?” Grandpa demanded. “If you don’t know, call the police. How can you be so calm?” My father looked at my mother. She sighed, pulled out her phone, and opened the app. Grandma and Grandpa leaned in, and I hovered over them, too. She frowned. The dot was stationary now. It was at a building only five minutes away from the cabin. “See? She’s five minutes out. She’ll be here in a heartbeat.” Grandma tried to look closer, but my mother locked the screen and tucked the phone away. “Before she gets here, we need to have a serious talk,” my mother said, her voice taking on that “academic” authority. “Chloe is starting first grade soon. You two have to stop coddling her. It’s stuntin her development.” I hid behind Grandma’s chair, trembling. My mother loved “gifted” children. She spoke to Sebastian like he was a colleague. But me? I was a project that kept failing. Once, I got a 59 on a math quiz. She had looked at me with such pure disgust. “Are you even mine?” she’d asked. “How can you be this dense? What is wrong with your brain?” She had put me on a grueling “acceleration” schedule. Hours of extra math. Sebastian’s old workbooks. Every mistake was a mark on my hand with a ruler. Grandma tried to intervene. “Madeline, she’s just a little girl. You can’t force a flower to bloom by pulling on the petals…” “She couldn’t even tell me what one plus one was today!” my mother shouted, cutting her off. “Sebastian was doing third-grade multiplication at her age!” Grandma went pale. In the corner, Sebastian gave a little smirk. I flew toward my mother, screaming. “It wasn’t me! It was Sebastian! He told me one plus one didn’t equal two anymore! He told me it was a trick!” But she couldn’t hear my truth. “Wait,” Grandpa said, standing up. “Is that Chloe’s coat?” 4 My father and Grandpa had gone to the SUV to get the rest of the bags. Grandpa was holding my pink puffer jacket, his face a mask of confusion. “I thought she was in someone else’s car? Why is her coat in your trunk?” My father froze. He looked at my mother, his eyes wide. “Madeline… when you kicked her out… did you make sure she had her coat?” My mother’s eyes darted around the room. “I… I thought she was wearing it. She’s six, Christopher! She should know how to dress herself!” The unfairness of it hit me like a physical blow. She had pushed me out so fast. I didn’t have a chance to grab anything. Even in this warm cabin, I began to shiver. The memory of that bone-deep cold was more real than the fire in the hearth. “What?” Grandma’s voice was a whisper of horror. “On the interstate? You kicked her out on the interstate?” “You’re insane!” Grandpa roared. “It’s ten below! You left a child alone on a highway? What is wrong with you?” “Nothing happened!” my mother yelled back, her voice cracking. “I told her to stay in the emergency lane! Look at the GPS! She’s moving! She’s fine!” Grandma and Grandpa grabbed their keys, heading for the door to find me. “Grandma, Grandpa, don’t go!” I cried. “I’m here! Please, don’t fight!” Sebastian ran out of the den then, holding something he’d found in my mother’s bag. “Mom, look what was in the side pocket!” It was a drawing. I tried to snatch it away, terrified. My mother grabbed it, her face twisting as she looked at it. She held it up like a piece of evidence. “You see this? This is why she’s failing! This is what you’re encouraging!” It was a drawing of us. A family portrait. Me and Sebastian holding hands, flanked by Mom and Dad. We all had giant, messy smiles. I had titled it The Happy Family. “Drawing won’t get her into the Ivy League!” my mother screamed. “I want her to have a future! I want her to be someone!” And then, she tore it. “No!” I shrieked. “Mom, please! I’ll be good! I’ll study! I’ll never pick up a crayon again!” But the paper fluttered to the floor in jagged white pieces. “Do you have any idea how competitive the world is now?” she spat at my grandparents. “Degrees are devaluing. If she isn’t the best, she’s nothing! And you’re turning her into a loser!” Grandma and Grandpa looked like they had been struck. They turned to my father. He just pushed his glasses up his nose. “I agree that Chloe needs to focus. Art is a hobby, not a career path. We can’t have her wasting her potential on useless things.” His words were the final weight. My spirit felt heavy, drifting toward the ceiling. Mom, Dad… I’m sorry I wasn’t enough. Don’t be mad anymore. Sebastian will make you proud… The doorbell rang. My mother marched toward it, her face set in a mask of triumph. “There. That’ll be her. Three thousand steps later, and I bet she didn’t walk even ten of them.” But when she opened the door, it wasn’t me. It was two State Troopers. One of them was holding a shattered, blood-stained vlogging camera. The other held a photo. “Are you the parents of the child in this picture?”

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I never thought a single slice of prime rib would be the catalyst for my social execution. It was my senior year, and I was staying with my Aunt Sarah to be closer to my prep school. But while I was sitting at their marble dining table, trying to prepare SAT test and minding my own business, I committed the ultimate sin: I took a piece of steak from the serving platter. By the next morning, my cousin Brianna had turned me into a viral villain. I sat on the edge of my twin bed in the cramped, windowless “guest room”—which was really just a walk-in closet they’d cleared out—watching her TikTok video with a shaking hand. The view count was climbing into the hundreds of thousands. … “I know her parents are always away for ‘work,’ and I felt so sorry for her being all alone,” Brianna sobbed into the camera, her eyes perfectly rimmed with calculated tears. “That’s why I begged my mom to let her live with us. But I didn’t know she’d be like this.” She took a shaky breath, the “sad girl” filter doing heavy lifting. “She’s a total leech. She lives here for free, eats our food, and then acts like she owns the place. Yesterday, I was exhausted from studying, and my mom made my favorite steak dinner to help me refuel. And she… she just grabbed the best cuts. She ate everything before I could even sit down. I ended up with nothing but the side salad.” She let out a pathetic little whimper. “It’s not even about the food. It’s the betrayal. I gave her everything. I shared my home. And she just… she’s literally starving me out. I don’t know how I got stuck with a relative like this.” The comments were a bloodbath. “The audacity of some people. Kick that parasite out!” “Poor Brianna, she’s literally glowing from being a good person and this girl is just sucking her dry.” “I have a cousin like this. They’re like human bedbugs. Once they’re in, you can’t get rid of them.” Brianna had even replied to one: “I want to be strong, but she’s family. I can’t just throw her on the street, right? I guess I’ll just keep suffering in silence.” My stomach did a slow, nauseous roll. My parents work for a high-level government defense agency. Their lives are classified, their locations often confidential, and their time is never their own. When I started my senior year, Aunt Sarah had practically begged them to let me stay with her. She said her house was right across from the academy and it would be “perfect” for me and Brianna to study together. My father, thinking family was the safest place for me, agreed. To ensure I wasn’t a “burden,” my father wired Aunt Sarah fifteen thousand dollars every single month. That was for my room, my board, and any “inconvenience” my presence might cause. But from the moment I hauled my suitcases across her threshold, Brianna had handed me a laminated sheet of “House Expectations”: a. Do not touch personal property without written consent. b. Lights out by 10:00 PM sharp. c. Showers are limited to five minutes to conserve water. d. AC/Heat is a luxury; do not adjust the thermostat. e. Be invisible. If a family member is in a bad mood, retreat to your room immediately. I had played the part. I was the “poor relation.” I did my own laundry, I scrubbed the floors on weekends, and I spent three hours every night tutoring Brianna, who was currently failing three classes. I barely touched the food they put out, always feeling like I was an intruder in a house my father was essentially paying the mortgage on. Until last night. I was exhausted, staring at a flashcard for ‘Duplicity’, and I reached out and took a piece of meat without thinking. Brianna had slammed her fork down and stormed out. I thought she was just having a bad day. I didn’t realize she was setting up a tripod. I couldn’t stay. Not after this. The air in the house felt like poison. I packed my bags in twenty minutes. I called the school administration and secured a spot in the dorms—a luxury I’d previously declined—and then I sent a short, clipped text to my father. “Dad, I moved out of Aunt Sarah’s. I’m in the dorms now. Please send my monthly allowance directly to my account from now on.” My phone rang almost instantly. “Maddy? What happened?” my father’s voice was tight with the kind of controlled worry he used for international crises. “Is everything okay? Did something happen with Sarah?” Hearing his voice made my throat ache. My father worshipped his sister; he’d spent his life looking out for her. When Sarah’s husband, Mike, lost his job three years ago, my dad pulled strings to get him a six-figure “consulting” role at a firm he had ties to. When Sarah complained about her old car, a Mercedes appeared in her driveway. Even the house they lived in was bought with a “loan” from my father that everyone knew would never be repaid. I didn’t want to break his heart. I didn’t want him to know his sister was a snake. “I just need more time to focus on finals, Dad,” I lied, my voice small. “The dorms are closer to the library.” I hung up, feeling the weight of the silence. When I arrived at the dorms, I ran straight into Tiffany, Brianna’s shadow and the school’s premier gossip. She was standing in the hallway, phone in hand, looking at me with a smirk that made my skin crawl. “Oh look, it’s the Steak Thief,” Tiffany announced, her voice echoing off the lockers. “What’s the matter, Maddy? Did the ‘charity’ run out? Did they finally kick the parasite to the curb?” Within seconds, girls were poking their heads out of their rooms. The whispers started instantly. “I can’t believe she’s in our hall. I don’t want to leave my snacks in the common room if she’s around.” “It’s so pathetic. Imagine being so broke you have to steal food from your own aunt.” “She’s so ‘quiet’ and ‘studious.’ It’s always the quiet ones who are the biggest creeps.” Then, the main event arrived. Brianna marched into the hallway, looking like a vengeful angel in a $400 Lululemon set. “Madison,” she said, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “Are you really that sensitive? My followers were just telling the truth. You don’t have to throw a tantrum and run away.” I looked at her, really looked at her. I saw the cheap cruelty behind the expensive skincare. “You think I’m ‘occupying’ your house, Brianna? You think I’m the one getting the deal here?” She scoffed, tossing her hair. “Um, obviously? Do you know what property taxes cost in this zip code? Do you know how much we’ve spent on your ‘room and board’ these last few months? You’ve been living like a queen on our dime.” Tiffany chimed in, “It’s honestly disgusting. We all know Brianna’s family is loaded. She took you in out of the goodness of her heart, and you treated her like your personal servant. You should be on your knees thanking her.” It was a fever dream. Before I moved in, Brianna was a social nobody. She used to calculate the cost of a Starbucks latte before ordering. But ever since my dad started sending that $15,000 a month, she’d been transformed. She was wearing designer clothes, buying rounds of drinks for the “popular” kids, and playing the role of the benevolent heiress. And I was the “poor cousin” who allowed her to play that part. “Brianna,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “I suggest you go home and ask your mother exactly who is paying for what.” She laughed, a sharp, ugly sound. “Don’t bring my mom into this. Your parents are ‘government contractors’—we all know that’s just code for ‘too broke to come home.’ They probably haven’t seen a paycheck in years. You’re lucky we didn’t charge you interest.” The girls in the hall erupted in laughter. “She’s just a leech!” someone yelled. “A hungry, hungry leech!” another added. Brianna’s smile widened. She was intoxicated by the crowd. “Look, Maddy. I’ll be the bigger person. I’ll forgive you for the video. Just pack your stuff and come back. Stop making a scene. It’s embarrassing for everyone.” “I’m staying here,” I said. I turned my back on her and started unpacking. I thought that would be the end of it. I thought I could just sink into the shadows and survive until graduation. But the next day, Aunt Sarah showed up at the school. She was waiting by the fountain after my last period, looking every bit the concerned, suburban mother. “Madison, honey,” she said, rushing toward me as students swirled around us. “I saw the video. Brianna was out of line, I’ve already talked to her. You can’t stay in a dorm, sweetie. Who’s going to look after you? Come home. Let’s not let this ruin your grades.” For a second, I almost believed her. Then I remembered the 10:00 PM lights-out rule. I remembered the five-minute showers while she and Brianna spent hours in the tub. “I’m fine here, Aunt Sarah,” I said. Brianna, who was standing a few feet behind her mother, lost it. “Madison! Stop being so ungrateful! My mom is literally begging you to come back after you humiliated us. Do you want us to get on our knees?” Her voice was a siren. Everyone stopped. “Is that her?” people whispered. “The one from the TikTok?” Tiffany appeared out of nowhere, her phone already recording. “Live from the scene, guys! The Steak Thief is now bullying her own aunt! Look at this poor woman trying to be kind while the parasite throws a fit.” The comments on the live feed were scrolling so fast they were a blur of hate. “Justice for Brianna’s mom!” “Throw a brick at her!” I looked at the crowd, then at my aunt, then at Brianna. “I didn’t live there for free,” I said, my voice projecting through the courtyard. “My father paid for every single cent of my stay.” The crowd went silent for a beat before a wave of mockery hit. “With what? Food stamps?” Tiffany sneered. “Look at her shoes! They’re from Target!” someone laughed. Brianna stepped forward, her eyes gleaming with malice. “Oh, really? How much did your ‘big shot’ dad pay? A hundred bucks? Two hundred?” I stared her down. “Fifteen thousand.” “Fifteen thousand dollars. A month.” The silence this time was deafening. Then, the laughter exploded—louder and crueler than before. “Fifteen thousand! She’s delusional!” “She’s actually lost her mind!” Brianna was doubling over. “Maddy, seriously? Have you ever even seen fifteen thousand dollars in one place? You’re pathetic.” I turned to my aunt. “Aunt Sarah. Tell them. Tell them how much my dad wires you on the first of every month.” The courtyard went still. Every eye turned to Sarah. She looked at me, her face a mask of pity. She sighed, a long, theatrical sound. “Madison… I know you’re embarrassed. I know you want to save face in front of your friends. But… your parents haven’t sent us a dime. We did it because we love you. I can’t lie for you, honey. It wouldn’t be right.” I felt the blood drain from my face. It was like the ground had vanished beneath my feet. I had seen the confirmation emails on her laptop once. I knew. She was choosing the lie. She was choosing Brianna’s “influencer” reputation over the girl she’d promised to protect. The mocking reached a fever pitch. “Liarrrr!” “She’s a psycho!” Brianna stepped into my personal space. “You disgust me. You’ve been living off us for months, and now you’re trying to gaslight my mom into saying you paid? You know what? Let’s settle this. Since you’re so ‘rich,’ why don’t you pay us back?” Aunt Sarah tried to fake-protest. “Brianna, no…” “No, Mom! She wants to talk about money? Let’s talk.” Brianna pulled out her phone and opened the calculator app. “Let’s see. A room in this town? Three grand a month. Food? A grand. Utilities? Five hundred. And the ‘nanny’ fee for my mom cooking and cleaning for your messy self? Let’s call it five grand. That’s nearly ten thousand a month. You stayed three months. You owe us thirty thousand dollars, Madison.” She held the phone up to my face. “Pay up, or shut up.” The crowd cheered. “Pay up! Pay up!” I looked at my aunt. She stayed silent, her eyes averted. The warmth I’d felt for her as a child—the memories of her baking cookies—shattered like glass. I slowly reached into my bag and pulled out my phone. My voice was like ice. “Fine. If we’re going to settle the bill, let’s do it right. Item by item.”

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In our third year of marrying into the Sterling family as best friends, their childhood sweetheart returned. My best friend and I had promised to run away together, but the night before our escape, she jumped from a high-rise building. I called her husband, Caleb, but he only sneered: “Sister-in-law, my brother said if she jumps off a building today, are you going to jump into a river tomorrow?” … The mockery pierced my eardrums, and my heart sank inch by inch. I looked at Vivian lying in a pool of blood, my voice hoarse. “Caleb, I’m not joking. Vivi… is really dead.” A disdainful scoff came through the phone. “Is that so? She’s really dead? Then do I have to plan her funeral and cry my eyes out?” “Sister-in-law, just because I call you that, don’t think you’re actually the matriarch here. Your and Vivian’s little mind games are incredibly boring.” It was the middle of summer, but I felt freezing cold. Caleb didn’t believe Vivian was dead. I should have known. To him, Vivian was just a tool to appease his family. But at the very end, she had still held onto a tiny sliver of hope that he might change his mind. In the end, she was disappointed again. A woman’s voice came from his end. “Caleb, why are you on the phone for so long? Hang up and come sing with me.” Then came Caleb’s gentle, doting voice: “Alright, alright, my little princess. Hanging up now.” The sky was pitch black, pressing down on me until I could barely breathe. With hollow eyes, I held Vivian’s blood-soaked body. I didn’t understand, and I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Just yesterday, Vivi was determined to escape the Sterling family with me. Why did she jump tonight? She was terrified of heights and hated pain, yet she leaped from the thirty-something floor. Numbly, I followed the police, and then to the crematorium. In less than a day, the vibrant, living Vivian had been reduced to a square box in my hands. As the sky turned a pale gray, I walked out of the crematorium, clutching her ashes. I only snapped back to reality when a passerby called out to me. “Miss, your phone is ringing.” I froze, stiffly pulling out my phone. My vision was blurred with mist; I couldn’t read the caller ID. It wasn’t until I answered that a deep voice spoke: “You didn’t come home last night.” I gave a faint “Hmm.” Liam’s voice grew colder. “What’s wrong with your voice? Are you out fooling around with Vivian again? Chloe, I remember warning you to stay away from her.” The phone wasn’t large, but at that moment, it felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. I took a deep breath, my voice raspy. “Vivian is dead. Liam, you don’t have to look down on her anymore.” The line went dead for a few seconds. Then, a cold voice replied: “You’re playing along with her act now? Chloe, if she ‘dies’ today, is it your turn to ‘die’ tomorrow? Or do you just think faking your deaths is a fun game? What a pity, we don’t have time to entertain your drama.” The call was ruthlessly disconnected. I let out a sigh of relief. If he didn’t believe it, so be it. If Vivian could jump from such a high building, she must have been utterly and completely disappointed in the Sterling family, and in Caleb. I wiped the tears from my face and took Vivian to the beach. She had no family, no place to return to. When we were planning our escape, she once said that besides the mountains and rivers, the place she wanted to go most was the ocean. So, I scattered a portion of her ashes into the sea. Just as I let go, a gust of wind swept by, carrying her ashes deeper into the ocean. My eyes suddenly grew hot. “Vivi, is that you?” The wind seemed to understand, brushing gently against my face. I smiled through my tears. “Go on. When all this is over, I’ll take you to walk the paths we never got to finish.” The wind stopped. Just like how Vivian would never be by my side again. It was noon by the time I returned to the Sterling estate. Surprisingly, both Sterling brothers were home. As soon as I walked in, two sharp gazes locked onto me. The next second, Caleb scoffed: “Sister-in-law, you’re back. Where’s Vivian? Is she still rolling around in some hotel bed?” I clenched my fists, suppressing my heaving chest, and said coldly, “She’s never coming back.” Caleb smiled, but his eyes were ice-cold. “Really? Did she hook up with some rich sugar daddy and decide the Sterling family isn’t good enough for her anymore?” So, even now, Vivian was nothing more than a cheap, despicable existence in Caleb’s heart. I gave a tragic smile, grieving for the years Vivian wasted loving him. “Caleb, since you look down on her so much, you might as well divorce her. It’s better for you, and for her.” Caleb let out a light chuckle. “Looks like she really did find a sugar daddy.” “Sister-in-law, why don’t you enlighten me? Who is this guy?” At this moment, Caleb looked like a lone wolf, his eyes emitting a deep, predatory green light. One wrong move and he’d bite my throat out. I turned my head away and walked briskly upstairs. I didn’t come back to argue with them. I just wanted to find the truth behind Vivian’s fall. I didn’t believe she committed suicide. She valued her life so much. But before I could even reach the second floor, a powerful force pinned me against the wall. Caleb’s warm breath hit my face, carrying a suffocating pressure. “Chloe, tell me, who the fuck is Vivian with?” “Tell me!” Caleb, who always had a smile plastered on his face, finally snapped. In that moment, I suddenly felt a twisted sense of satisfaction. If he realized too late that Vivian was actually dead, would he go even crazier? “What are you laughing at? Chloe, don’t think that just because you’re my sister-in-law, I won’t do anything to you. Ask my brother—does he even care about you?” “So, be a good girl and tell me. Where is Vivian?” I laughed out loud, the corners of my eyes damp. I enunciated every word: “She really is dead. Last night, she jumped from a thirty-something story building. She hit the ground so hard she was unrecognizable. Covered in blood.” “If you don’t believe me, go investigate. Caleb, you have the resources to do that, don’t you?” The hand gripping my collar suddenly tightened, but I didn’t flinch, meeting Caleb’s glare head-on. His furious rage and my dead calm were like two uncrossable chasms. Suddenly, a large hand clamped down over Caleb’s. “Enough, Caleb. If you really want to know where she is, go look into it. Don’t take your anger out on her for no reason.” The grip on my collar loosened, and Caleb took two steps back. His eyes were dark. He nodded repeatedly, then flashed another fake smile. “Fine. I’ll go check right now. Sister-in-law, if I find out you and Vivian teamed up to play me, I might not touch you, but she’s going to have a very bad time.” I twitched my lips into a small smirk, watching Caleb’s angry back retreat until he disappeared out the front door. “Have you looked enough?” A gloomy voice sounded by my ear. I pressed my lips together, ignoring Liam, and walked toward Vivian’s room without a word. But before I could take two steps, a strong force yanked me in the opposite direction. Liam’s strides were long, and I stumbled to keep up. “Let me go, Liam. Let go of me.” “You stayed out all night, came back looking like a ghost, and claimed Vivian is dead. Chloe, I think you’ve genuinely lost your mind.” As soon as we entered his room, I was thrown violently onto the bed. Then, Liam’s tall figure leaned over me, his fingers gripping my chin so hard I had to look up at him. He parted his thin lips, his tone vicious: “Chloe, have I been too lenient with you? Didn’t I warn you to stop hanging out with Vivian?” It was no secret that Liam disliked Vivian. Three years ago, Vivian’s family faced a crisis. As the sole heir, she had to drop out of college and bounce between elite cocktail parties, desperately trying to secure investments. Liam thought she acted like a cheap socialite and always looked down on her. Even after Vivian married Caleb, his opinion of her never changed. In Liam’s words: “She just went from servicing many to servicing one.” But for Vivian, this marriage was like a moth drawn to a flame. The free-spirited prince she had fallen in love with was actually a monster wearing a tailored suit. I looked at Liam for a long time. His face hadn’t changed at all, but I could no longer see the man I once loved. “Liam, let’s get a divorce.” I had known Liam for five years and been married to him for three. I used to think I’d spend the rest of my life with him. But ever since Harper came back six months ago, that dream slowly ground to dust. I just wanted to leave him, to sever all ties with him. Liam froze, a flicker of suspicion crossing his handsome, cold features. “What did you say?” “I said, let’s get a divorce.” Perhaps I had accumulated enough disappointment, because when I said the word “divorce,” my heart felt completely at peace. The room was dead silent. I quietly waited for Liam’s answer. There was no reason for him to refuse. Harper was back. Once we divorced, he could pursue her without any hesitations. He wouldn’t have to worry about explaining it to our families, nor would he face any media backlash. Just then, a ringtone broke the silence, and a flash of panic crossed Liam’s deep eyes. It was Harper’s custom ringtone. He didn’t even hesitate to answer it right in front of me. Because of that, I heard every word of the woman’s voice on the other end. “Liam, I think I caught a cold. Could you take me to the hospital? I called Caleb, but he didn’t pick up.” Harper’s voice dripped with pathetic grievance. I saw the sharp ache of concern in Liam’s eyes, and my supposedly numb heart still gave a painful throb. Harper had a minor cold, and he was beside himself with worry. But when I had a 104-degree fever and begged him to take me to the ER? He had just answered a call from Harper, tossed a careless “call an ambulance” over his shoulder, and impatiently rushed off to be with her. Even now, when I brought up divorce, his priority was still Harper. Liam almost tripped over his own feet in his rush, not forgetting to comfort the woman on the phone. “Harper, I’m coming right now. Hang in there.” Once Liam’s presence vanished from the room, I understood clearly. As long as Harper existed, I was nothing more than thin air to him. After three years, I finally realized that some hearts are just too cold to be warmed. I searched Vivian’s room for a long time. But I found nothing. Except for a journal, filled entirely with Caleb. From infatuation, to disappointment, to absolute despair. On the last page, she had written only one sentence. “From this moment on, I will not love Caleb anymore.” My chest heaved violently, a dense, agonizing pain spreading through my heart. One night three years ago, Vivian suddenly sent me a flurry of texts. She said: “Chloe, guess who I’m marrying!” “It’s Caleb.” “I told you about him. My free-spirited prince.” “He said he wants to marry me.” “My family is saved.” Reading between the lines, her excitement was palpable. I knew she wasn’t just thrilled about saving her family. She was ecstatic because she was marrying Caleb, the man she had secretly loved for three years. That night, Vivian and I texted until 3 AM. Yet all that excitement and joy had dissolved into disappointment and despair over these past six months. Holding the journal, I felt dizzy and somehow drifted off to sleep. I had a bizarre, fragmented dream. Vivian was in it. We were climbing a snowy mountain. A bone-chilling cold swept through my entire body. But Vivian was dressed in thin layers, as if she couldn’t feel the cold at all. She ran joyfully toward the summit, like a free, radiant sun. “Chloe, I finally made it to the top! I can’t hear the voices from the bottom anymore! I’m free!” The sunlight beamed down from above her, casting a golden halo over her entire body. Before I could even feel happy for her, Vivian suddenly tilted backward. In a flash, her body disappeared off the blindingly white, snowy peak. “Vivian!” I reached out desperately to grab her, but my hand didn’t even brush the hem of her clothes. I woke up with a violently start, my body drenched in cold sweat, a deep chill wrapping around me. The sky outside was completely dark. I set the journal down, planning to revisit the building where Vivian had jumped. Just as I opened my bedroom door, a tall figure stood blocking the way. Caleb’s face was terrifyingly dark, his eyes filled with absolute frost. “Why did Vivian jump?” His voice was hoarse and heavy, carrying an interrogating tone. It seemed he really did go investigate, and finally believed that Vivian was truly dead. “Chloe, tell me. Why did Vivian jump? And what is the deal with that flight ticket out of the country?” “She wanted to leave me?” I sneered, “More than that.” Caleb’s brows knitted tightly. The face that usually wore a mocking smile was now frighteningly grim. Yet, I felt absolutely no fear, only a soaring sense of vindication. “Caleb, in about two days, you should receive a divorce agreement in the mail. That was the very last thing Vivian left for you.” “It’s just a shame that whether you sign it or not doesn’t matter anymore, because Vivian has already left you completely.” “Chloe!” My name seemed to be squeezed through Caleb’s gritted teeth. He violently grabbed me by the throat, pinning me against the wall. His dark eyes were so deep and stormy they looked like pooling ink. “Tell me, why did she want to leave me?! Why?!” “Did you manipulate her into doing this?!” I met Caleb’s fury-filled gaze expressionlessly, a cold smile never leaving my lips. “Caleb, do you seriously still not know why Vivian wanted to leave you?” “You are such a massive failure.” “Answer me!” he roared, grinding his teeth, his grip on my neck tightening. I had no doubt he actually wanted to strangle me to death. I let out a cold laugh. That journal was filled to the brim with all the misery Vivian suffered over the past three years. Whenever I thought of those words, those events, I wanted to murder Caleb myself. My eyes turned icy, and I said, word by word: “Caleb, I should be asking you. When Vivian’s parents passed away one after another, what were you doing?” “When Vivian was cornered and harassed in an alleyway, where were you?” “When she was sick in the hospital and just wanted you to keep her company, what did you say to her?” “Can you remember any of that?” I only knew about these things from reading her journal. For three years, I knew Caleb was cold to her, but I never knew she endured so much abuse. When her parents died, I asked Caleb where he was, and Vivian covered for him, saying he was abroad on a business trip. Now I know he wasn’t on a business trip. He was on vacation with Harper. When she was cornered in an alley, Caleb was sleeping with another woman, and dismissed her call for help as just another one of her ‘tricks’. But Vivian never said a word, swallowing all her pain and grievances. The expression on Caleb’s face slowly froze. The hand gripping my throat gradually loosened its pressure. “I… I was…” He muttered to himself, unable to form a complete sentence. Suddenly, a figure sprinted over and violently shoved Caleb away. Caleb lost his balance and stumbled hard onto the floor. “Caleb, I told you, stop losing your temper for no reason.” I looked at the broad back shielding me, my heart completely devoid of any emotion. It wasn’t until a petite figure hurried into my peripheral vision that I realized Liam hadn’t returned alone. Harper gasped, rushing to Caleb’s side and reaching out to help him up. But this time, Caleb simply swatted her hand away blankly. Harper bit her lower lip, looking aggrieved. When she looked up, her eyes were already brimming with tears. “Liam, what’s wrong with Caleb?” Liam frowned and said coolly, “Ignore him. When he sobers up, he’ll tell you.” Then he turned his attention back to me. “I don’t feel comfortable leaving Harper to live alone right now, so I’m bringing her here to stay for a while. Chloe, go prepare a nice guest room for her.” I kept my eyes fixed on Caleb’s defeated face on the floor, not even sparing Liam a glance. His voice deepened, heavy with authority. “Chloe, I’m talking to you.” I cast a lazy, indifferent glance at him. But I didn’t do what he ordered. Instead, I calmly walked over to the corner, picked up Vivian’s journal, and dropped it right in front of Caleb. “Vivian left this behind. Caleb, take a good look. See exactly how much pain you’ve caused her over the last three years.” I used to think Caleb didn’t love Vivian. But his reaction now gave me the illusion that he actually cared about her. If he didn’t care, this journal would be nothing more than a joke to him, something to mock her with. If he did care, this journal would haunt him for a very long time. Vivian died an unjust death, and I refused to let the person who hurt her live in peace. But surprisingly, when Caleb reached out to take the journal, his hands were violently shaking. He was terrified, yet desperately eager to hold onto the last piece of Vivian he had left. He cradled the journal against his chest like it was a priceless treasure. No matter how Harper called out to him, he ignored her completely. I smirked, but I still couldn’t suppress the heavy, suffocating anger in my chest. I felt suffocated. I needed fresh air. But suddenly, a large hand clamped down on my wrist. “Chloe, what did you do to Caleb?” Liam narrowed his eyes, the air around him dropping a few degrees. Honestly, Liam wasn’t much better than Caleb. We were a corporate arranged marriage. The first two years were respectful, but over the last six months, he had done plenty of crossing the line. He even used my family’s company to threaten me. If I hadn’t suddenly woken up to reality and demanded a divorce, Vivian wouldn’t have suggested we run away together. And maybe she wouldn’t have jumped off that building. My heart suddenly ached. I even had the delusional thought that I had killed Vivian. My face went pale. I violently yanked my hand free and said coldly, “You should ask him what he did to Vivi.” “Chloe…” “Liam.” I cut him off. He definitely wasn’t about to say anything nice, and I refused to let Vivian’s name come out of his mouth again. It was an insult to her. “Liam, let’s get a divorce. An amicable split. It won’t affect our families’ businesses.” Originally, I planned to mail him the divorce papers after I left, purely to avoid an argument that he might use to threaten my family’s company. But now that he had actually moved Harper into the house, he should be thrilled to agree to a divorce right away. The argument I worried about wouldn’t happen. I didn’t bother looking at Liam’s expression. There was absolutely nothing in this house I needed to take with me. So, I didn’t even pack a bag. I walked out of the mansion empty-handed. Before I could even clear the front gates, Caleb chased after me, his voice totally hoarse. “Sister-in-law.”

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When I arrived at the private club, Liam was sitting at the head of the table. His expression was controlled, but the corners of his eyes were red. A circle of trust-fund kids were holding their breath. Seeing me felt like seeing their savior. They practically stood at attention: “Good evening, Mrs. Sterling.” The girl sitting next to him panicked when she saw me. Her eyes red, she turned to him and pleaded, “Liam, I’m back. Are you really going to go home with her?” I walked over and picked up a bottle of red wine from the table. “Liam. Go home, or get your head cracked open. Pick one.” 01 The private room was so quiet that all you could hear was the uneven breathing of the people inside. Liam lifted his heavy eyelids to look at me. In that single movement, I could clearly sense his intense irritation. The rich kids standing in a circle, terrified of being caught in the crossfire, silently shuffled backward to a safe distance. I stood perfectly still in front of them, gripping the neck of the wine bottle. After a long pause, a smirk tugged at the corner of Liam’s mouth. “Who called your sister-in-law here?” The moment the words left his mouth, all the color drained from the face of the girl sitting next to him. She looked like she was about to shatter into a million pieces. She clung to Liam’s arm, her voice trembling as she asked: “Liam, are you… are you really going home with her?” I let out a scoff, pulled out a chair, sat down, and looked her dead in the eye. “Chloe, while I’m still trying to hold myself back, I suggest you get out of here on your own.” A single tear slid down her cheek. “Since you know who I am, do you also know…” I cut her off. “I know. I know you’re the one that got away. I know he still keeps a framed picture of you on his desk.” A shy blush crept up Chloe’s neck. A sudden spark lit up her eyes as she gently rested her head against Liam’s shoulder. “Liam, I came back for you. Divorce her. Even after all these years, marrying you is still my biggest dream.” “I know you aren’t happy. You’ve suffered so much these past few years.” Liam tried desperately to maintain his usual poker face, but the bulging vein on his temple betrayed the intense emotions surging within him. He slowly raised his hand, reaching out to gently stroke Chloe’s back. I smiled coldly, shattering their tender moment. “Well, Mr. Sterling. It seems you don’t want to go home.” “My apologies, then.” I raised my arm high and brought the heavy glass wine bottle crashing down directly onto Chloe’s head! 02 CRASH! The sound of shattering glass was instantly drowned out by the terrified screams erupting in the room. Chloe, deathly pale, stared at Liam, who had thrown himself over her, shielding her in his arms. A mixture of dark red wine and bright red blood was gushing from a deep gash on his temple. “Liam! Liam! Are you okay?! Oh my god, are you okay…” Chloe scrambled out of Liam’s protective embrace, her hands shaking violently as she helped him sit back down. Frantically, she grabbed a fistful of napkins from the table and pressed them desperately against his bleeding forehead. The napkins were instantly soaked through with blood. Chloe whipped her head around and screamed at me like a madwoman: “You psycho!!! Are you trying to kill someone?! How could Liam ever marry a psycho like you?!” Liam caught his breath after a moment. He took the napkins from her, wiped the mix of blood and wine out of his eyes, and pulled Chloe back. “Chloe, don’t provoke her.” “Are you hurt anywhere?” Chloe’s lip trembled. She held out her hand. There was a tiny, maybe one-centimeter scratch from a piece of flying glass. Liam instantly jumped up, a look of absolute panic on his face. He carefully cradled her hand and started leading her toward the door. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt? Come on, I’m taking you to the hospital right now.” I looked down at my own hand, hanging limply by my side. Blood dripped steadily from my fingertips, soaking into the plush carpet, disappearing without a trace. I had been running on fumes all day at the corporate office. I had a massive meeting with a crucial client and barely managed to choke down a few bites of a sandwich for lunch. The second I finally got off work and saw the text someone sent me, I rushed straight to this club. Liam. I was exhausted, starving, and sleep-deprived. And I was bleeding, too. How did the brave boy who once scraped his hands raw and took a brutal beating to save me from kidnappers turn into this complete stranger? A wave of severe dizziness hit me. The room spun wildly. Purely on instinct, I grabbed the edge of the table and collapsed heavily into the chair. I heard someone call out to him: “Liam, your wife is bleeding too! She doesn’t look good at all!” Liam’s voice drifted back from down the hall. “She’s a tough woman. She can handle it herself.” I looked up. His retreating back was so resolute, so utterly unfeeling. Whatever. This just meant that when I finally closed the net, I wouldn’t have to feel a single ounce of guilt. 03 I looked up at the trust-fund kids. These notoriously arrogant playboys of the city’s elite were standing perfectly still, looking at me with genuine concern. I smiled and waved them off. “I’m starving. Someone get some food in here.” “Yes, ma’am! Right away!” Tyler, the heir to the club’s ownership, was the most eager to please. He immediately barked orders at the staff to clear the table and bring out a fresh feast. Watching them scurry around, it felt just like when we were kids, and they used to follow Liam and me around, calling us “Big Bro” and “Big Sis.” When did “Big Bro” stay “Big Bro,” but “Big Sis” turn into “Sister-in-law”? Probably ever since I was five years old, when my nanny kidnapped me for ransom. Liam, who was only eight at the time, managed to piece together the tiny clues the nanny left behind and found me before the police ever did. When I woke up from passing out, I was strapped to Liam’s skinny back. He was gritting his teeth, his legs trembling under the weight, slowly carrying me out of that terrifying abandoned factory. That image was permanently burned into my soul. The elders in our families always joked that for the rest of his life, I would be Liam’s one and only exception. His favorite person. But… then Liam met the girl of his dreams. Unlike me, who lost my mother in that kidnapping and was strictly raised to be a ruthless corporate heir—everything I did was for the family business and for revenge. But Chloe? She would never raise her voice at Liam. She would never aggressively demand he read financial journals or learn eight different languages. She would sit quietly by his side, watching him with a gentle, adoring smile. She was willing to cook for him. Willing to spend hours sitting with him in lectures she didn’t even understand. She did all these things for him. Things I could never do. The environment I grew up in only taught me how to calculate risks and weigh pros and cons. Until Chloe got into a huge fight with Liam because he was just too rich. She said she could never fit into his world. She turned around and flew across the ocean. Liam didn’t chase after her. I knew he had massive ambitions. He wanted control of the Sterling family empire, and he wanted control of mine—the Vance family empire. Before he secured both empires, he wouldn’t abandon me for Chloe. So, when Liam proposed, I said yes without hesitation. Liam gave me every ounce of romance that money could buy. I enjoyed it with a clear conscience. I knew better than anyone that the Sterling empire and the Vance empire would eventually both be mine. All the beautiful things he bought with his money? I was just enjoying my inheritance early. I ate my food in silence, my brain rapidly running through every step of my master plan. I had been planning this for over a decade. I refused to let there be a single flaw. Maybe I was too quiet, because Tyler couldn’t take the tension anymore. He slammed his hand on the table and stood up. “Sarah! You’ve never shown any mercy to the women buzzing around Liam!” “Why did you back down today?!” Way to poke the bear. The entire table went dead silent. I smiled faintly. “Because she’s Chloe.” The “one that got away” is a lethal weapon. One strike, and it’s fatal. I pulled out my phone. The screen was completely blank. No missed calls, no texts. I figured Chloe’s “life-threatening” scratch was probably fully healed by now. 04 Just as I expected, Liam didn’t come home that night. I sat in the living room the entire night, watching the city go from pitch black at midnight to the gray light of 7 AM. I knew my era had finally arrived. When the clock struck 8, I was dressed impeccably. I used heavy concealer to hide the dark circles under my eyes and stepped into my chauffeured car right on time. I never expected to see Chloe at the office. She was wearing a brand-new, tailored business suit, sitting at the desk in the outer office of Liam’s executive suite. When she saw me walk past, she immediately stood up and offered a bright, professional smile. “Good morning, Ms. Vance.” The smug, victorious smirk playing on her lips, paired with her innocent, harmless face, made my blood boil. My face darkened. I immediately called the HR Director up and loudly demanded to know what the hell was going on. Since when did the company start hiring random strays off the street? Chloe looked so humiliated she wanted to sink into the floor. Her face flushed bright red, tears welled in her eyes, and under my aggressive interrogation, she couldn’t utter a single word. When I get angry, no one in the company dares to breathe. After delivering a few harsh reprimands, I suddenly felt bored by the whole charade. I waved my hand dismissively at the HR Director: “Fire her. Give Ms. Chloe whatever severance package is legally required, down to the last penny.” Chloe, who had been keeping her head down, suddenly snapped her head up. Tears streamed down her face like broken pearls. “Ms. Vance, I’m begging you. I really need this job. Please, don’t fire me.” “You live high up in your ivory towers, while people like me only survive on your charity. Are you really going to strip away the one small right I have to make a living?!” Such classic, manipulative victim-blaming. I lifted my gaze, looking past her trembling shoulders to the heavy oak door behind her. Right on cue, the door swung open, and Liam stood there, his face like thunder. “Sarah Vance. You might come from old money, but that doesn’t give you the right to throw your weight around and bully people.” “She is my executive assistant. Not yours.” With just one sentence, he drew a massive, uncrossable line in the sand. He walked forward, took Chloe’s hand, looked around at the terrified staff, and announced in a booming voice: “From this day forward, Ms. Chloe is my executive assistant. I take full responsibility for every word she says and every action she takes.” So this was what his ‘exception’ looked like. I didn’t say a word. I took two steps back, turned around, and walked back to my own office. Right before it was time to leave for the day, my assistant reminded me that I had an incredibly important gala to attend with Liam that night. A massive contract I had been negotiating for six months was riding on this dinner. I took several deep breaths, psyching myself up. I changed into my evening gown, touched up my makeup, and walked over to Liam’s office. Just as I raised my hand to knock, the door opened from the inside. Chloe, wearing a stunning evening gown, was walking out arm-in-arm with Liam. They were laughing and chatting happily. I froze in my tracks. It was early autumn. A draft blew through the hallway, chilling my bare shoulders. Liam stopped walking and shot me a look of pure, icy indifference. “From now on, my Executive Assistant will accompany me to these social events.” “We won’t need to trouble you anymore, Ms. Vance.” The two of them walked past me toward the elevators. “Liam, I’ve been personally managing this project for six months.” Liam’s voice drifted back to me, growing fainter as the elevator doors opened. “Starting today, it’s being handled by my Executive Assistant.” 05 Liam personally intervened and signed the contract on Chloe’s behalf. Before the project even officially launched, the paperwork authorizing Chloe’s massive commission payout landed on my desk. I refused to sign it and sent the paperwork straight back, untouched. Even without the commission check, it didn’t stop Chloe from becoming the most famous woman in the corporate headquarters overnight. Her fame even spread to our business partners. That day, I received a call from Chairman Chen, one of our oldest associates. “Sarah, what have you been so busy with lately? You haven’t come by to have tea with your Uncle Chen in ages.” I laughed. “Uncle Chen, you’re the busy one! How do you even have time to call me?” Chairman Chen hesitated for a long time before finally saying: “Liam recently bought a standalone luxury villa from one of my developments. The registered owner on the deed is Chloe.” “They’ve probably already moved in.” The teacup in my hand tilted sharply, spilling hot tea all over my desk. Counting from the very first night he didn’t come home, Liam had been gone for 29 consecutive days. My master plan was fully in motion. I had gone from lying awake all night with anxiety to falling asleep the second my head hit the pillow. I was carrying the immense weight of two family empires on my shoulders. Petty romantic drama was not the main theme of my life. Tyler and his group of trust-fund friends had reached out to me multiple times, wanting to intervene and get justice for me. I stopped them every time. Everything was going exactly according to plan. I didn’t feel wronged or victimized in the slightest. These kids didn’t understand. When two evenly matched powerhouses collide, they can build an empire together… or they can completely destroy each other. The knot tied by time could only be unraveled by time.

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When the protagonist appears, I am already pregnant with Kobby’s child. Unable to fight against fate, he once defied everything and broke off his engagement with the protagonist for me, but he also hated me to the core because of her, annoyed by even a glance at me. Finally, I grew tired, letting go of the entangled emotions, even giving up on the child. Until a twilight six years later. A tender-faced child knocked on my door. He said with a serious, grown-up expression: “My dad doesn’t want me anymore, can I stay with you?” 1 I froze for a moment, saying nothing. The child, Jessica, pursed his lips in displeasure, tilting his beautiful little face up and stating, very earnestly: “My teacher said that parents have the responsibility and obligation to raise their children…” The half-open door cut off his unfinished sentence. I stepped aside slightly, calmly saying: “Come in.” The dim yellow light within the room illuminated his slightly widened eyes. His eyes flickered inexplicably, and he huffed, chin raised, then obediently entered. I closed the door and turned to see Jessica curiously glancing around. Noticing me watching him, he immediately pulled his gaze back, nervously clutching his backpack straps, his small face taut as he said: “My name is Jessica.” It sounded like an introduction, and also like a reminder to me that he was the child Kobby and I had. I knew. From the first moment I saw him, I confirmed his identity. Because his appearance was almost an exact replica of Kobby’s. Seemingly disappointed by my calm reaction, he turned his head away, looking unhappy, no longer at me. I placed his small, yellow backpack by the entrance, then led him to wash his hands. “Let’s eat first.” Jessica obediently hummed in agreement. When I brought the food out, he had already climbed onto a chair by himself. I asked him why he suddenly came to find me. Jessica buried his head, poking at the small green vegetables in his bowl, his lowered head round and dark, his voice muffled: “I argued with him. He threw things and told me to get out, said never to come back.” So, he had run away from home in a fit of pique. Kobby would probably come to pick him up soon. That made sense. After all, six years ago, the Wilson family had a very ugly fight with me over Jessica’s custody. It was even less likely they wouldn’t want him now. My chopsticks paused, and I couldn’t quite say what I felt in my heart at that moment. I didn’t know Jessica was coming tonight, so I only had a simple two dishes and a soup. He was very picky, didn’t eat spring onions or carrots, and ended up with no vegetables to eat. Jessica stared at the mashed vegetable leaves with a look of deep resentment, then secretly glanced at me, swallowing guiltily. When we first met, he had a hint of childish arrogance and spoiledness, but now, he was picky and disliked vegetables, which suggested he was always indulged and pampered at the Wilson family home. He must not have been wronged. I felt a little relieved. After washing the dishes, I waited for Kobby to send someone to pick him up. I waited until half past nine. Six-year-old children get sleepy very early. He pulled pajamas from his backpack, looked around, and pouted, saying: “There’s only one room.” “Am I sharing a bed with you tonight?” I glanced at the clock on the wall, wondering why the Wilson family still hadn’t sent anyone. I had no choice but to compromise. “Yes, you’ll sleep with me tonight.” I expected Jessica to throw a tantrum. After all, a simple one-bedroom apartment would naturally not be as comfortable as the Wilson family’s mansion. But Jessica merely pursed his lips, his gaze flickering. After washing his face, he huffed and puffed into his pajamas, then climbed onto the bed, kicking his legs. It was just like dinner when he appeared disgusted but still quietly ate the vegetables I put on his plate. He burrowed and burrowed under the covers, making a little mound, then pulled out a fairy tale book from somewhere, secretly peeking at me with his eyes, and couldn’t help but urge: “Aren’t you going to read me a bedtime story?” He looked quite happy. 2 After reading Jessica to sleep, I pulled out Kobby’s number. I hesitated for a long time, but still didn’t dial. Kobby and I had been apart for six years. At first, we both thought we could defy fate. Back then, my family suddenly went bankrupt, and the Wilson family called off the engagement, secretly arranging an engagement between Kobby and Elara without his knowledge. For my sake, he recklessly broke off his engagement with Elara. He even gave up his heir status, enduring a family punishment from old Mr. Wilson and unable to get out of bed for half a month. Seeing my tears, he still endured the pain, softly comforting me with a lazy smile. I thought things would get better. The bankruptcy would get better, Kobby would get better, the future would get better. But it didn’t. Kobby and I got married in secret. Perhaps because of Kobby’s unwavering devotion to me, even after I got pregnant, I never thought of not having the child. Until the eve of childbirth. I called him repeatedly, enduring the pain, but Kobby never answered. A neighbor took me to the hospital, and when I woke up, I saw a cold and indifferent Kobby. I don’t know why a person could change so drastically overnight. So much so that his gaze towards me was filled with unfamiliar disdain. Elara visited me once. From her, I learned the truth about this world. Due to a system error in timing, when the late protagonist appeared, the male lead had already developed feelings for someone else. As a consequence of the correction, the male lead’s misplaced affection began to invert. The more he loved me before, the more he hated me now. Elara looked at me with a pitiful and sympathetic gaze. Before she left, she whispered, “Have you ever thought about what will happen to your child in the future?” I was suddenly stunned, a little lost. I didn’t know who to hate anymore. Should I hate Kobby? But he himself couldn’t sort out his feelings. Should I hate fate? But what good would hating do? I couldn’t change anything. At that time, my parents were in a car accident on their way to visit me at the hospital. They were unconscious and might be in a vegetative state for the rest of their lives. I was on the verge of a breakdown, Elara’s words replaying in my mind. I just felt that this damned world was so, so exhausting. I pushed open the window, and as I looked down, the child by the hospital bed suddenly began to wail loudly. Dazed, I wondered, if I died, what would become of him? Would this world tolerate his existence? Would Elara abuse him? Or would he, like me, be rejected by Kobby, then silently endure many grieWilsons, and finally die unnoticed, fulfilling everyone’s expectations? I started to tremble all over, returned to the bedside, my hands shaking as I reached for his neck. I wanted to take him with me. But then he stopped crying, his red, tear-filled eyes fixed on me, as if he wanted to stay with his mother no matter where she went. Until the nurse and bodyguard, sensing something was wrong, rushed in and roughly pushed me away. I looked down at my trembling hands, then suddenly realized what absurd thing I had almost done under Elara’s influence. News quickly reached the Wilson family. Old Mr. Wilson demanded to see me and began to fight for the child’s custody. I asked for nothing, left the Kobby who despised me, relinquished custody, and straightforwardly signed the divorce papers. I only asked for two million. Young and carefree, the former Miss Sterling, who once carelessly spent millions, now finds herself at a dead end for a few thousand dollars in hospital bills. Kobby never appeared from beginning to end. He loathed me so much that he didn’t even want to look at me. So, I accepted my fate. I abandoned the entangled emotions, even giving up on the child. I let him go, and I let myself go. It wasn’t until a soft little bundle burrowed into my arms that I snapped back to reality. Jessica whimpered in his sleep, curling up softly in my embrace, as if he had finally found a comfortable position, sleeping soundly. He clutched my clothes tightly, anxiously, as if afraid that I would disappear the moment he opened his eyes. I gazed at that innocent, tender face, and couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh. If he knew his mother wanted to strangle him at birth, would he still come looking for me? He would probably run from me faster than he could hide. 3 By morning, Kobby still hadn’t appeared. I didn’t know what he was trying to do. The Wilson family had fought so bitterly for custody, yet now they seemed to just abandon him. I woke Jessica up early and hailed a taxi to take him to school. His kindergarten was in a different city than mine, but luckily it was only an hour’s drive away. Before getting out of the car, he made me promise repeatedly that I would pick him up after school, and he clung to me, whining, refusing to let go. Until he saw a car parked in front of the kindergarten gate. His eyes lit up, and he urgently pulled me out of the car. As we approached, he deliberately slowed his steps, casually blocking the chubby boy who had just gotten out of the car. As if deliberately showing off, Jessica swung my hand, which he was holding, in front of the boy. Then, very loudly, in a voice everyone could hear, he asked me: “Mommy, you’ll pick me up after school, right?” This was the first time Jessica had called me “Mommy.” Perhaps because I had been absent for six whole years, even when he knocked on my door, he had never called me “Mommy” on his own. The chubby boy stared at me intently, saying with disbelief: “If you have a mommy, why didn’t she ever take you to school before?” Jessica snorted, his gaze full of disdain: “My mommy is busy with work. She took special leave today just to take me to school.” The word “special” was emphasized heavily. He held my hand and walked to the kindergarten gate in front of everyone, as if showing off, wanting everyone to see. Before we parted, he awkwardly asked again: “…You’ll come pick me up, won’t you?” Seeing my silence, he glared at me, then said, panicked and very softly: “You promised me in the car! Adults can’t lie!” I helplessly crouched down, smoothed out his turned-up collar, and ruffled his hair. His hair was dark and soft, and felt lovely to the touch. “Okay, I’ll come pick you up.” He couldn’t help but turn up the corners of his lips, then desperately straightened them, feigning maturity and raising his chin proudly, saying: “Hmm, I’ll remember to wait for you.” Only when his figure completely disappeared from my sight did I retract my gaze. I found his teacher and asked about Jessica’s situation in kindergarten. The teacher stammered, then finally sighed, frowning as she complained: “I know the Wilson family is powerful, and what I say might not be useful.” “But, Jessica’s mom, no matter how busy you are, you can’t neglect your child, can you?” “Since he enrolled, no one has ever come for a parent-teacher conference!” “Now all the children in the kindergarten are spreading rumors that he doesn’t have a mom. This isn’t good for the child’s psychological development at all.” No one had ever come for a parent-teacher conference? Even if Kobby was busy and disliked this child, was he even too lazy to send an assistant to handle it? I frowned, feeling for the first time that I might have made the wrong decision. …Perhaps I shouldn’t have given up custody back then. But at that time, I was penniless, my parents were in a coma in the hospital, and I couldn’t even support myself. How could I talk about raising a vulnerable child? I pulled out Kobby’s number, hesitated for a moment, then dialed. I decided to have a serious talk with him. If Kobby really didn’t want to raise him anymore, I would take him in. Although I couldn’t provide him with the same good conditions as the Wilson family, I had enough to raise a child. The phone had just been dialed when the ringing sounded behind me. As if realizing something, my fingertips trembled, and I turned around. Only to see Kobby stepping out of a black Bentley. Six years had passed; he seemed to have changed, and yet not changed at all. His eyelids were half-lowered, gazing at the illuminated screen, his wrist bones clearly defined, his stern face hidden in shadow. He calmly raised an eyebrow, then suddenly looked up. “You’ve been hiding from me for so many years.” “Talk?” Unlike my disheveled state over the years, Kobby remained composed and steady. His eyes were as they always were, looking at me with an inexplicably deep gaze. Even the light and shadow cast by the tree branches at this moment favored him. I heard he had taken over the entire Wilson family business from old Mr. Wilson. I heard the brand he founded was popular worldwide. I heard he had been secretly married years ago, always keeping a low profile. The memories of countless years, which I had deliberately ignored, surged back with devastating force, a subtle pain aching in my chest. Only when I saw him at that moment did I truly realize. I thought I had moved on. Apparently not. When he was young, he used to weave grass rings for me, and once kicked the person who bullied me into the pool. No one could have imagined that we would reach such an embarrassing point today. He hadn’t changed, actually; he just no longer loved me, that was all. It’s truly been a long, long time, Kobby. 4 In silence, we found a coffee shop nearby. Before the coffee arrived, I asked bluntly, as if to hide something: “Do you still want the child?” For the past six years, I had tormented myself fantasizing about a reunion with Kobby. So much so that I could now pretend to be calm. Kobby glanced up at me, without hesitation: “Of course I do.” I pursed my lips, staring at the street sign outside the floor-to-ceiling window, then quietly hummed and stood up. “Then remember to pick him up after school. If you don’t have time for parent-teacher conferences, you can notify me. I won’t disturb you and–” Still couldn’t bring myself to say Elara’s name. I couldn’t help but pinch my palm, the sharp pain making me clear-headed, forcing myself to say: “…won’t disturb your lives.” I glanced at the time, ready to leave. As I brushed past him, I heard Kobby ask unexpectedly: “So, you only want to talk about Jessica with me now?” I paused, not quite understanding. Our business had been settled six years ago; he had found new love, I took two million and left cleanly, it was that simple. Besides Jessica, what else was there for us to discuss? Kobby sighed softly, his dark eyes fixed on me, then spoke again: “Alright then, I don’t want Jessica.” He said it so righteously, as if he wasn’t the one who had changed his mind on the spot. I frowned, and couldn’t help but ask him: “What do you mean?” Kobby tilted his chin slightly, pointing to the opposite seat, motioning for me to sit back down. “Literally.” “You want to raise the child? Fine. He’s yours.” “Considering the child’s well-being, every Friday evening I will come to your current residence for necessary shared time with Jessica, and drive back to the company on Monday morning.” Watching him stubbornly argue with a straight face, I found it absurd. I couldn’t help but remind him: “We’re already divorced.” “Are we?” Kobby scoffed, his meaning unclear. “I didn’t sign.” It dawned on me belatedly what those words meant. When old Mr. Wilson made me sign the divorce papers, I only thought Kobby detested me so much that he didn’t even want to see me one last time, which was why he never appeared from beginning to end. He said he hadn’t signed. But then why did he only come looking for me six years later? I wouldn’t be so conceited as to think he still had any feelings for me. Perhaps the original agreement was lost, or there was some flaw in it that required a supplementary agreement to be signed—anything was possible. I pursed my lips, cooperating, and said: “Then let’s sign a new one.” Kobby didn’t even lift his eyes. “No.” I spoke to him gently: “Wouldn’t it be better if we settled everything after signing?” “No.” “Do you have any concerns? I don’t want any shares or money. Consider me leaving with nothing.” “No.” The three “nos” made me angry and dazed. Perhaps Kobby himself didn’t remember that he was like this in his youth. That day was his birthday party. Someone cornered me, looking at me provocatively and saying inappropriate things. Kobby kicked the person into the swimming pool. The commotion was huge. All the prominent figures in the capital were there, and the faces of several elders looked quite displeased. When asked for the reason, Kobby never offered an explanation. To avoid gossip and protect my reputation, Kobby didn’t even mention me from start to finish. He refused to admit fault and endured a beating from old Mr. Wilson. Perhaps no one would have imagined that the eighteenth birthday of this now prominent figure in the business world was spent in solitary confinement. The door was completely locked, even medicine couldn’t be brought in. I curled up outside the door, whispering softly, full of guilt: “I’m sorry.” Through the door, he paused for a moment, making some rustling sounds. He seemed to have sat down by the door too. His voice was a bit muffled; he softly hummed, then said: “Don’t listen.” I buried my forehead in my knees, murmuring, “Actually, you didn’t have to kick him. It would have been fine if you just let him finish talking. He wouldn’t dare do anything to me.” “No waiting.” I didn’t speak again. Perhaps he misunderstood something because my voice was too muffled. After a moment, he spoke again: “Don’t cry.” He tapped on the door, then tutted softly: “I did it voluntarily, it has nothing to do with you. Don’t cry.” I snapped back to reality, desperately hiding the bitterness in my eyes, yet it felt as if I heard his “Don’t cry” from many years ago again. Kobby sat in the light, smiling calmly, tiny dust motes dancing in the fragmented rays. His old contours had subtly sharpened with time. He looked up, raising an eyebrow at me. As if answering what I had said earlier. “Sophia, we can’t settle this.”

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