Category: English

I was a prim and strict secretary to CEO Aaron Kingston. In three years of work, I had never made a single mistake. Until this day, I ran into Aaron at a bar. I was drunk, and I rushed over, treating him like a dog and lecturing him all night. Afraid of losing my job, the next day I claimed he had encountered my twin sister. Aaron stared at me thoughtfully, and after a long pause, said, “Your salary goes up by two thousand every month. Send me your sister’s contact info.” 1 As exhilarating as last night was, that’s how utterly humiliated I felt now. Aaron Kingston sat in his office, his thin lips bearing a hint of blood, his long neck still showing distinct scratch marks—all my handiwork from last night. Guiltily averting my gaze, I thought I’d misheard him. I instinctively asked, “Pardon me, what did you just say?” My distraction caused Aaron’s brow to furrow slightly in displeasure. But he repeated, “Send me your sister’s contact info.” “May I ask what this is about?” “Personal business.” After a moment of silence, I said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Kingston, I may not be able to help you. Actually… my sister and I aren’t very close.” Aaron raised an eyebrow slightly, and I braced myself, continuing, “You may not know, but my sister and I parted ways after our parents’ divorce, and I haven’t been in touch with her for a long time.” “Not in touch for a long time, yet she called me ‘Kingston’s dog’?” Aaron scoffed. “Yesterday, your sister was quite rude to me. I’ve never met her before, so unless you mentioned me to her, how would she know who I am?” At that, my hairs stood on end. How could I have forgotten that part! Last night, I really had lost control. Drunk, I’d run into Aaron, marched up to him, and slapped him across the face. “Bold Kingston’s dog, why do you not kneel before your queen?!” It had completely stunned him. I don’t remember anything after that. When my memory started to return, Aaron was stripped down to just his tie, his hands tied behind his back in an X-shape, kneeling before me, calling me “Queen.” The thought made me mortified all over again. I cleared my throat. “Well, there’s still a tiny bit of contact, we’ve exchanged a few jokes, I didn’t think she’d take it seriously…” “My sister is just impulsive and reckless. If she offended you in any way, please don’t take it to heart.” “It’s already taken to heart,” Aaron said expressionlessly. “I won’t make things difficult for you. Find an opportunity to ask her. I believe she’d be happy to add me as a friend.” With that, he waved his hand. “You may leave.” Walking out of the office, my rigidly held posture finally crumbled. 2 I was known for being a prim and proper secretary. Meticulous in my work. Reserved with people. For three diligent years, I’d never made a single mistake. But in truth, being a secretary wasn’t my career plan. I intended to use it as a stepping stone to earn Aaron Kingston’s recommendation. Last week, I learned that a branch company was being formed, and there was a managerial position open. Aaron, as the head of the project, had absolute recommendation power. A few days ago, I had submitted my application, and the results hadn’t been announced yet. As soon as I reached my desk, a few colleagues gathered around. “Cara, has the transfer list been decided?” “No.” “It should be you, right? Mr. Kingston trusts you so much; it feels like there’s no one else.” “I think so too. Apart from the boss, Cara is the busiest person in the whole company. She probably hasn’t had a full weekend in three years, has she?” I smiled and shook my head. “Not necessarily. The boss has his own plans.” But despite saying that, I still held some hope. To my surprise, the next day, Aaron called me into his office. “The recommended candidate for the new company’s general manager position has been submitted to the OA for the board of directors’ approval and announcement.” I glanced at the list. Elaine Foster. She joined the company at the same time as me. The only difference was that I was assigned to the CEO’s office, while she remained in the business department. I held the list without moving. Aaron looked at me strangely. “Anything else?” “May I ask why I was passed over?” He was surprised I would ask. “No reason. You’re not suitable.” I pressed further. “Where am I not suitable?” Aaron’s eyes showed displeasure. “The new company needs someone who understands business, is bold, and innovative. You’re conservative and meticulous, too focused on minor details. You’re fine for administration, but not suitable for market development.” “But I…” “Alright, let’s not discuss this further. The list has been finalized on my end. Your job is to execute.” With that, his face darkened, and he lowered his head to review documents, ignoring me. This was his way of refusing further discussion. Aaron Kingston was known for being particular, with many strict rules. He liked his water at 45 degrees Celsius, only drank black coffee, wore only black jackets, and even had a preferred angle for his computer monitor. For three years, I meticulously observed his every habit, fearful of crossing his boundaries. Now, all I got was “too focused on minor details.” My heart completely sank. Taking a breath, I decided to speak again. “Mr. Kingston, there’s one more thing I need to report.” “Speak.” “You asked me to speak to my sister earlier. I’ve asked for her opinion.” Aaron’s expression softened slightly, and he looked up at me again. “What did she say?” “She said yes.” Aaron’s lips curved upwards. He hummed. “Alright, just send me her contact.” Then, thinking of something, he corrected himself: “No, you send her my contact. I’ll add her myself.” 3 After the list was released, I received many condolences that afternoon. “Mr. Kingston must have been reluctant to let you go. After all, you’re his confidante.” “It’s a competency trap. Mr. Kingston probably thought he wouldn’t find a suitable secretary without you.” “And for a new company, I think Mr. Kingston wanted a man. Women really don’t have an advantage in the workplace.” On the surface, I pretended indifference, saying I didn’t care much. But internally, my molars were grinding. Damn you, Aaron Kingston. This time, I’m going to make you regret this! Before leaving work, I registered a burner account. My profile picture was a side profile taken during my university days. Wearing a black slip dress, with wavy red hair cascading over my shoulders, I looked completely different from my current self, with my thick glasses and meticulously combed hair. After confirming there were no other issues, I pushed the contact card to Aaron Kingston. Soon, he added me. I accepted his request and was the first to reply: [Heard you were looking for me?] He replied almost instantly. [Yeah, shouldn’t someone be responsible after hitting a person? My knees still hurt.] [Then your kneeling posture must not have been up to standard.] [You’re right, it’s all my fault.] Before I could reply, he sent another message. I opened it. It was a picture. A selfie of a man kneeling behind an office desk. His face wasn’t visible, but the suit trousers indicated it was him. [Are you satisfied now, Your Highness?] Hiss—Playing such a dangerous game! I suddenly gasped, instinctively turning my phone away. But inexplicably, there was also a hint of secret excitement. I subconsciously glanced at Aaron Kingston’s office. The door was tightly closed. I couldn’t see what the person inside was doing. I tapped my phone, changing his contact name to [Aaron’s Dog]. When it was time to leave, a colleague leaned over. “Cara, it’s the department team-building tonight. Whose car are you riding in?” I paused, realizing it was the department’s annual dinner. The venue was a bar. But I was allergic to bars lately, so I immediately declined. “I have to work late, so I won’t be going.” As expected, a look of sympathy immediately appeared on their face. “The boss’s work pace is really insane. Only you in the whole company can keep up.” I forced a bitter laugh, not elaborating. It wasn’t until everyone from the department had left that I finally relaxed. My arms were sore from slapping him last night, and I wanted to take this chance to go home early and catch up on sleep. As I was shutting down my computer, footsteps sounded behind me. “You didn’t go to dinner tonight?” Although I didn’t particularly want to see Aaron Kingston right now, due to the promotion list, I managed not to show it, forcing myself to perk up. “No, I still have some work to do.” “Are you done now?” Unsure of what he was up to, I conservatively said, “Almost.” “Then I’ll wait for you. We can leave together shortly.” I paused. “Leave? Go where?” “Team building.” I was a bit surprised. “You’re going too?” Aaron Kingston raised an eyebrow. “What, I’m not allowed?” I immediately put on my professional fake smile. “Of course, you can go.” The ride was silent. Aaron Kingston sat beside me, crossing his legs. I remembered the photo he sent me, kneeling on a stool. I couldn’t resist glancing at him. He caught me looking. “Something wrong?” “It seems you have a scratch here. Do you need a band-aid?” In my nervousness, I blurted out a random excuse, pointing to his Adam’s apple. Then I immediately regretted it even more! That spot on his Adam’s apple was where I had bitten him! Aaron Kingston frowned slightly, opened his phone, and checked his front camera. His voice immediately cooled. “No.” I didn’t dare say anything. Unexpectedly, the next second, my phone started vibrating wildly. Aaron’s Dog: [You bit my neck.] Aaron’s Dog: [And your sister saw it too. How am I supposed to explain this?] I glanced at my phone screen, afraid Aaron Kingston would notice anything. I didn’t dare reply. Aaron Kingston tapped his fingers on his knee. Then he started texting again. Aaron’s Dog: [Hello? Why aren’t you answering?] Aaron’s Dog: [I’m not blaming you, just asking~] Aaron’s Dog: [Are you seeing someone else behind my back?] His typing speed was a bit too fast. I didn’t even have time to put my phone on silent. In the quiet space, my phone vibrated like crazy, doing a full dance. Aaron Kingston grew impatient, casting a glance at me. “Isn’t your phone a bit too loud?” he sneered. “Who is it, talking so much nonsense?” I quickly turned on “Do Not Disturb” and gave a couple of awkward laughs. “Sorry, my dog at home accidentally hit the keyboard.” 4 I was already annoyed, and then when I arrived at the bar, I discovered Elaine Foster was there too. My footsteps faltered. My stomach churned with renewed discomfort. Before, Aaron Kingston never attended department team-building events. Could it be that he knew Elaine was coming and came specifically for her? My established persona was always that of a professional, calm, prim secretary. I greeted everyone as I entered and then retreated to a corner. Everyone was used to my personality and didn’t pay much attention. Elaine saw Aaron Kingston and immediately stood up enthusiastically, surrounding him. She smiled and asked, “Mr. Kingston, I’m crashing your office team building. You don’t mind, do you?” Aaron Kingston lifted his eyelids. “Whether I mind or not, you’re already here, aren’t you?” That single sentence left Elaine completely speechless. Aaron Kingston was notorious for his sharp tongue. Elaine clearly hadn’t experienced it much. The woman’s expression stiffened. She said, “Mr. Kingston, I’d like to toast you. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to gain experience at the new company.” Aaron Kingston subconsciously glanced at me. He cleared his throat. “No need for such thanks. It’s just picking the best from a bad bunch; we couldn’t find anyone else suitable.” Elaine froze again. I, who had been secretly enjoying the moment, suddenly realized something was off. Did that remark just insult me too?! I frowned, pulled out my phone, switched to my burner account, and opened the [Aaron’s Dog] chat. [Slap yourself. Right now, this instant!!!] Beside me, Aaron Kingston’s phone screen lit up. I could visibly see his expression turn strange, and he replied with a question mark. [Why?] Me: [Do I need a reason to give an order?] Me: [What, you can’t even do such a small thing?] Aaron Kingston pursed his lips: [It’s a company dinner tonight, surrounded by subordinates.] [Be good, I’ll let you do whatever you want when we get back tonight, okay?] Me: [No.] Me: [I can find someone else tonight.] The next second, Aaron Kingston raised his hand and slapped himself across the face. The private room fell into an awkward silence for a few seconds. Elaine was the first to react. “Mr. Kingston?” “Mosquito.” A mosquito in a bar’s private room in the dead of winter. I believed it. Elaine believed it too. After slapping himself, he looked down and sent me a message. Aaron’s Dog: [I just hit myself.] Me: [Oh.] Aaron’s Dog: [Satisfied?] I denied it. [I wasn’t even there. How would I know if it was real?] Aaron’s Dog: [Are you inviting me over?] Aaron’s Dog: [The left side hasn’t been slapped yet. Want to try tonight?] Me: ? Help me. This man is truly not normal! By the time the party ended, the red mark on Aaron Kingston’s face hadn’t faded. Truly worthy of being the CEO. He could be so hard on himself!

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It was the second year since the Sterling family had formally acknowledged me as their biological daughter, yet I still hadn’t been allowed to move into their house. On New Year’s Eve, I told my brother I wanted to leave. He looked completely bewildered. “Just because Chloe is in the family portrait and you aren’t?” “You could say that.” He was silent for a long time before saying, “Chloe is used to being spoiled by this family. If she wasn’t in the family portrait, she wouldn’t be able to handle it.” I finally realized that in his eyes, the fake heiress was his only true sister. That was fine. I didn’t really want to go back to the Sterling house anyway. My group chat with my three adoptive brothers was blowing up. They were planning to pick me up and take me home as soon as the youngest finished recording his New Year’s Eve broadcast. I sent a short reply: [Okay.] … It was snowing heavily in Chicago on New Year’s Eve. In the private dining room of the restaurant, Chloe Sterling had prepared festive red scarves for every single relative. Except me. Someone suggested that since the whole family was gathered together, we should take a family portrait. Chloe smoothly pushed me forward, telling me to take the picture. The frame was set. Right in the dead center of the photograph, Chloe clung to Arthur Sterling’s arm, smiling brightly. No one cared that I wasn’t in the family portrait. When I told Arthur I wanted to leave, he affectionately ruffled my hair. “It was my oversight. I should have paid more attention to those little details.” “It won’t happen again, Maya. Don’t make a fuss and talk about leaving over something so trivial, okay?” I shook my head. I wasn’t angry, but I really just wanted to go home. Arthur frowned. “If you leave the Sterlings, where else can you go? Back to Seattle to pick through the garbage?” My head snapped up, and I met his gaze. For a split second, a look of pure disgust flashed through his eyes. He sighed, and his tone softened. “Alright, Maya, stop being mad. Next year—next year, I’ll make sure you’re in the family portrait, okay?” Chloe suddenly popped a segment of a mandarin orange into Arthur’s mouth, giggling as she linked her arm through his. “What’s wrong? Why are we talking about next year’s family portrait?” Seeing that neither of us spoke, she immediately sensed the tension. She dropped her smile and said softly: “Maya, don’t blame Arthur. I was just too careless. There were so many people, I accidentally mistook you for a waitress.” “I’m the only outsider here. I should have been the one taking the picture.” As she spoke, a sorrowful expression washed over her face. Arthur instinctively reached out to comfort her, but halfway there, his hand froze and pulled back. He spoke in a low, stern voice: “It’s just a photograph. It’s not a big deal.” “But Chloe, you need to understand. No matter how bad Maya’s past was, she is a daughter of the Sterling family.” “You should know better.” Chloe bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes. Arthur kept a cold face and didn’t look at her again. But his heartache was impossible to hide. Back at the Vance house, my oldest brother once fished my failing test paper out of the trash. He punished me by making me copy the wrong answers, but he was worried I would get too tired. So he just sat next to me with a cold face, keeping me company the entire time. Arthur’s phone rang. He answered it, said a few words, and frowned. I faintly heard the words “formaldehyde test.” I had been back in Chicago for two years, but I had never actually stepped foot inside the Sterling house. For the first six months, they said they were remodeling my room. Then they said it needed to air out. They originally promised that once the formaldehyde test passed, I could move out of the hotel. But another year passed, and I was still living alone in a hotel room. Chloe asked, “Was that the testing company?” “How were the formaldehyde results this time?” Arthur froze for a second and didn’t answer. Chloe looked down and said, “I understand.” “The test passed, right? Maya is going to move back in.” “After the holidays, I’ll have the maid clean the room again and make Maya’s bed.” Arthur sighed softly. His warm hand grabbed my wrist. “The formaldehyde levels are still a bit high. You won’t be able to move in this month.” “After the holidays, I’ll hire a professional remediation company to do a deep clean. It will definitely pass after that.” I pulled my hand back and said calmly, “Don’t bother.” A few hours ago, the testing company had accidentally sent the results to me. Even though they quickly unsent the message. I still saw it. The room had passed the formaldehyde test six months ago. Arthur simply didn’t want me to come home. 2 If he didn’t want me to come home, why did he even bring me back to Chicago? I couldn’t understand it. At the New Year’s Eve dinner, Arthur specifically saved the seat next to him for me. Chloe pouted and found a seat as far away from him as possible. During the meal, Arthur placed a distinctly folded dumpling onto my plate. I took a bite and tasted something sweet. He looked at me gently. “Did Maya get the lucky dumpling? You’re so lucky!” “What’s your New Year’s wish?” I suddenly remembered a New Year’s Eve years ago, when my third brother intentionally smeared flour on my nose. My oldest and second brothers pinned him down on the couch, waiting for me to retaliate. I answered instinctively, “I just want to go home and have a loud, lively dinner with my family.” Arthur coughed uncomfortably. “Next year. Next year, when you move back into the house, we’ll celebrate the New Year together at home.” I realized then that he thought I was complaining. Seeing the tension, my aunt quickly served Chloe a bowl of soup. “What’s wrong, Chloe? You haven’t touched your food all night.” Chloe’s eyes turned red, her voice dripping with grievance. “Nothing, I just don’t have an appetite.” Someone nudged Arthur. “What’s wrong with Chloe? Go comfort her. Why isn’t she eating on New Year’s Eve?” His tone was cold. “If she doesn’t want to eat, let her go hungry. She’s an adult.” Chloe stiffened, and massive tears rolled down her cheeks. She turned and ran out of the room, not even grabbing her coat. Arthur didn’t chase after her. He just let out a soft sigh. “Maya is your biological sister, but Chloe has been with the Sterlings since she was five. Arthur, you can’t be biased and only treat Maya well while ignoring Chloe’s feelings.” He gave a cold “Mm,” and the relatives didn’t push the issue further. They went back to drinking and chatting, quickly forgetting the minor drama. I didn’t even notice when Arthur slipped away from the table. A mischievous little boy pointed a finger gun at me and muttered, “Pew, pew, shooting the garbage picker.” No one disciplined him, and no one paid any attention to me. I looked down and checked my phone. My second brother texted to ask if it was snowing heavily in Chicago. I looked out the window, stood up, and went downstairs to take a picture of the snow for him. As soon as I reached the ground floor, I heard the sound of sobbing. Under a streetlamp, Arthur was wrapping his own overcoat around Chloe. Snow fell heavily around them. He gently wiped the tears from her face with his thumb. “Arthur, do you not want me anymore?” Arthur’s voice was tender. “Silly, how could I not want you?” “Maya’s situation is actually quite pitiful. When I found her in Seattle, she was digging through the trash.” “If I treat her a little better, she won’t be jealous of you or target you, and your life in the Sterling house will be much easier.” Chloe looked up at him. “Really? But when she moves into the house, will you still feel that way?” He tapped her nose affectionately. “I already bought her a small condo on the South Side. As long as she has a place to live, she’ll be perfectly satisfied.” “Don’t worry, I won’t let her move into the main house.” The wind-driven snow hit my face like a stinging slap. I couldn’t help but shiver. I stood frozen for a long time before remembering to snap a picture of the snow and send it to my second brother. Then I dialed a number I hadn’t called in a long time. “Mom, I miss you so much.” On the other end of the line, Mrs. Vance paused, her voice choking up. “Maya, Mom misses you too.” “Are they treating you badly? Do you want to come back to Seattle this year?” “The Sterlings are just a small, ordinary family. Are you getting used to life there?” Mrs. Vance asked question after question, and I didn’t even know which one to answer first. I laughed, but my nose stung with unshed tears. “I’m coming home today. My brothers said they’re coming to pick me up.” “Good, good, that’s wonderful. Which of those three brats is going to get you?” My heart swelled with warmth. “All of them.” 3 When I returned to the private dining room, the relatives were getting ready to watch the New Year’s Gala. Chloe was leaning against Arthur, occasionally showing him something on her phone, the two of them laughing uproariously. I thought to myself, if I hadn’t come back inside, I doubt anyone would have even noticed I was gone. The younger kids in the family started screaming at the TV, “Leo! It’s Leo!” Festive music flooded the room. I stared blankly at the person on the screen, my eyes growing moist. He looked much thinner than the last time I saw him, but he was still a presence that made it impossible to look away. The five-minute opening act finished, and the camera froze on that impossibly handsome face. The sound of camera shutters clicked. Chloe was taking pictures of the TV screen. “Arthur, didn’t you say you have a friend who knows Leo’s manager?” “Can you ask him to get me VIP tickets to his concert?” “I absolutely HAVE to go to his concert!” Arthur agreed indulgently, “Alright, alright, I’ll definitely get you tickets this year.” My phone buzzed. A new message popped up in the group chat. [Phew, finally done. I’m rushing to the airport right now!] [@Maya, did your third brother look handsome?] [Where’s the oldest? Did he not watch my performance?!] My second brother replied to him: [Your oldest brother is on a business trip in Berlin. He’s on a flight to Chicago right now. He said he’ll watch the replay.] I quickly typed a reply: [Leo, you lost weight, but you still looked super handsome!] “Who are you texting?” Arthur’s cold voice came from right above me. I instinctively shoved my phone into my pocket. He stared at me intensely. “Why are you calling random, shady guys ‘brother’? I am your only brother.” I froze for a few seconds, suddenly realizing it had been a very long time since I had called him “brother.” When I first returned to Chicago, I genuinely saw him as my only family. Back then, he took meticulous care of me. When the hotel AC made the air too dry, he immediately bought a humidifier and brought it over. No matter how busy he was with work, he would make time every week to take me shopping or to the movies. Once, he got drunk at a business dinner and stumbled into my hotel room. That was the first time I heard him say how guilty he felt. If it wasn’t for him, I never would have been abducted. That was the first time I saw him cry uncontrollably, promising to protect me and never let anyone hurt me again. Perhaps even he didn’t realize whether his feelings for me were rooted in guilt or genuine affection. Chloe’s gasp pulled me out of my thoughts. “Wow, is this Leo when he was a kid?!” “He was so cute!” “I didn’t know he had two older brothers and a younger sister!” Leo had just posted a family portrait on Twitter. I was only six in the photo. It was the year the Vance family adopted me. My second aunt glanced at the photo and said softly, “That little girl looks really familiar.” A moment later, she muttered to herself, “She looks a lot like Maya when she was little.” I was about to speak when I heard Arthur laugh. “When Maya was little, she was just a dark, skinny little monkey. She didn’t inherit any of our mother’s beauty.” “How could she look like a kid from the Vance family?” “You guys don’t understand. Leo isn’t just some ordinary celebrity. The Vance family’s power in Seattle is beyond anything you could ever imagine.” My second aunt chuckled. “I’m getting old. I guess I can’t even remember what you guys looked like as kids anymore.” I closed my mouth and stayed silent. So Arthur had completely forgotten what I looked like as a child too. 4 Everyone went back to casually chatting and scrolling through their phones. The younger kids were already whining about wanting to go home. I wanted to leave too, but Arthur insisted I stay to count down to midnight. Chloe let out a yawn. “Arthur, when are we going home?” “Be good. We’ll keep Maya company until midnight, and then we’ll leave.” Chloe checked the time, looking completely exhausted. “But we have an early flight to catch tomorrow.” “I haven’t even finished packing. I don’t even know if it’s cold in Switzerland right now.” She suddenly covered her mouth, looking at Arthur in a panic. Arthur said calmly, “Maya, I promised Chloe a while ago that after her grad school entrance exams, I’d take her to Switzerland to ski.” “I’m busy with work, and the New Year holiday is the only time I have off. You’ve never been out of the country, and getting a passport takes time, so I can only take Chloe.” The relatives chimed in to agree. “Chloe worked really hard studying for those exams. She deserves a good break.” “Exactly. Maya, the Sterling family has always been broad-minded. You wouldn’t get upset over something so trivial, right?” Everyone’s words boxed me into a corner. If I said a single word of complaint now, I would be the unreasonable one. But I didn’t understand. Since Arthur was taking Chloe out of the country for the holidays. Why did he insist on keeping me in Chicago? I could have had a loud, joyous New Year. “Maya, don’t be mad. When I get back, I’ll take you to the movies, okay?” I laughed until tears came to my eyes. I just wanted to leave. As I turned around, something slipped out of my pocket and fell to the floor. Before I could get a good look at it, Chloe picked it up. “What’s this?” She immediately slipped the bracelet made of ceramic beads onto her own wrist. “Is this for Arthur? It’s a bit big, looks kind of clunky.” I looked closely. It was the bracelet I had made for my brothers. Last month, I went to a pottery town. I tried to buy tea sets for my brothers, but they refused. They said they only wanted something I made with my own two hands. So I had to learn how to make ceramic beads, and I strung a bracelet for each of them. I reached out to snatch it back, but Chloe intentionally dropped it onto the floor. A navy blue ceramic bead shattered into two pieces. I stood frozen for a few seconds, my chest incredibly tight. I raised my hand and slapped Chloe across the face. The sharp crack was followed by Arthur’s explosive rage. “Maya, are you insane?!” “It’s just a trashy bracelet! Is this really necessary?!” “If I had known you were this ill-mannered and couldn’t tolerate Chloe, I never would have brought you back.” “Whether you’re digging through the trash or starving to death, I wouldn’t have cared!” I glared at him furiously, my eyes burning. “Why did you come looking for me? Why did you bring me back?” “I was doing just fine. I was happy.” “You brought me back, but you refuse to accept me. You forcibly turned me into an orphan.” Scalding tears rolled down my cheeks. I was done playing along with his act. A flicker of guilt and panic appeared in his eyes: “I was just being impulsive. Chloe just dropped it by accident. You shouldn’t have hit her.” A crisp knock came from the door. Arthur’s assistant stood there. “Mr. Sterling, the CEO of Vance Enterprises—the one you’ve been trying to contact for six months—just suddenly showed up in Chicago. Should we arrange to pay him a visit?” Arthur paused and asked, “Why is he suddenly in Chicago?” Before he could get an answer, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway. A familiar voice rang out: “Maya, I’m not late, am I?” I looked up at the man, and the tears I’d been holding back finally fell. 5 The door to the private room was wide open. A chilling gust of cold air swept in. The man standing in the doorway was tall and imposing. The heavy, oppressive aura around him belonged to someone used to wielding absolute power. But when his eyes landed on me, they softened considerably. “Maya, what’s wrong?” Arthur’s tone was incredibly hostile. “Who are you?” “Do you not know this is a private family dinner?” His assistant sprinted over, his face pale as a ghost. He whispered frantically into Arthur’s ear: “That is Alexander Vance, the mysterious CEO of Vance Enterprises!” “We’ve been trying to set up a meeting with them for six months and couldn’t even get past his secretary!” Arthur’s pupils contracted sharply. A stiff, aggressively sycophantic smile spread across his face. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “So it’s Mr. Vance! What an honor!” “Why didn’t you let us know you were coming to Chicago? I would have arranged a proper reception for you!” Alexander ignored him completely, walking straight toward me. He bent down. And picked up the ceramic bead that had shattered into two pieces. He examined it in the palm of his hand. “Are you Maya’s brother, Arthur Sterling?” Arthur looked confused. He thought about it for a moment, then his face hardened. He suddenly turned to me and barked sternly: “Maya! Did you do something to offend Mr. Vance?!” Alexander let out a barely audible, icy scoff. He took a step forward. His overwhelming presence forced Arthur to instinctively take a step back. “Did you break my bracelet?” Arthur’s mind went completely blank. “Your bracelet?” At that exact moment, another figure appeared in the doorway. The newcomer wore gold-rimmed glasses, exuding a gentle, scholarly elegance. Snowflakes still clung to his coat. The moment he walked in, he furrowed his brow and looked at me. “Why are you dressed so lightly again?” “How many times have I told you? Chicago winters are damp and cold. You’ll get sick.” Only after scolding me did he turn to Alexander. His tone carried the authority of an older brother. “Alexander, what is wrong with you?” “I reminded you this morning to make sure you brought Maya a down jacket, and you forgot again?” That brief exchange instantly erected an invisible wall around us. All the petty drama of the Sterling family seemed utterly laughable in their presence. Chloe stared at the newcomer, her face draining of color. She whispered: “Professor Julian Vance? The advisor for the grad program I applied to… what is he doing here?” Arthur followed her gaze. He also recognized the man, a prominent figure in both the financial and academic worlds. A friend in the investment circle had once mentioned that whoever managed to hire Julian Vance as a consultant essentially held the golden key to the future. Hearing his name, Julian glanced at Chloe. Half a second later, he looked away. He took off his own scarf and wrapped it securely around me, leaving only my eyes visible. “Let’s go. Let’s go home.” Julian casually grasped my wrist. Alexander stood guard on my other side. They led me away, walking out under the dumbfounded stares of everyone in the Sterling family. Arthur suddenly snapped out of his daze. He chased after us, blocking my path. His voice was hoarse. “Maya, where are you going?” “We agreed to spend New Year’s Eve together as a family.” Julian stopped and looked at him. His tone was flat. “Mr. Sterling, you might be confused.” “Maya Vance is my sister.” “As far as any of us are concerned, the Vance family is Maya’s only family.” He seemed to remember something and turned to ask Alexander. “I almost forgot about Leo. Where is he? He’s ten minutes late.”

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“Just sign it. The firm has decided to ‘realign’ your position.” Madeline, the Department Director, pushed the severance agreement across the mahogany table. She wouldn’t look me in the eye. Her gaze was fixed somewhere near my shoulder, shifting with a restlessness that betrayed her guilt. Beside her sat the HR lead, wearing a smile so practiced it felt like a ceramic mask. I picked up the pen and scanned the document. Three months of severance plus a performance kicker. It was standard. Exactly what the law required, and not a penny more. “Fine,” I said. I signed my name—Ben Cross—and stood up. Madeline blinked, looking stunned. “You… you don’t have anything to say? No questions?” I gave her a thin, dry smile. “Is there anything left for me to hand over?” They traded a glance, their eyes mirroring a profound confusion. They expected a breakdown, a plea for mercy, or at the very least, a dignified argument about my three years of service. What they didn’t know was that I’d been waiting for this moment for exactly ninety days. 1. The conference room was freezing. Outside, the July heat was baking the Chicago skyline, but inside, the vents were blasting a clinical, recycled chill. Madeline sat across from me, her fingers tapping a rhythmic, mindless beat on the table. She was wearing a navy power suit today, the kind with pearl-inlaid buttons on the cuffs. On her wrist was a brand-new Cartier Love bracelet. I remembered her bragging about it on Instagram after her birthday three months ago—a gift to herself for a “record-breaking year.” The HR guy was a kid, maybe twenty-five, named Tyler. I’d never seen him before; he must have been one of the new hires brought in to handle the “restructuring.” He held a leather-bound folder like a shield. “Ben, we’ve got the transition paperwork ready,” Tyler said, his voice soft, as if he were trying not to wake a sleeping infant. “The firm is offering a standard package based on your tenure. Please take a moment to verify the figures.” Ben. I’d been at this firm for three years and four months. My employee ID was #001847. I was the senior-most Account Manager in the entire Midwest Division. Three years ago, when I started, the Midwest Division didn’t exist. It was just me, a laptop, and a list of cold leads I’d turned into gold, one grueling flight at a time. Back then, they didn’t call me “Ben.” They called me the “MVP.” “Once you sign, HR will coordinate the rollover of your 401k and provide your letter of recommendation,” Tyler continued. “The severance amount is $168,000. It’s all there in the breakdown.” I glanced at the number. $168,000. Perfect. “Don’t worry about the hand-off,” Madeline finally spoke, her voice carrying a forced, brittle warmth. “The company will assign someone to step in. We want you to focus on your next chapter. Take some time for yourself, Ben. You’ve earned it.” “Mhm.” I flipped to the final page and scrawled my signature. As the ink dried, I saw Madeline’s shoulders drop an inch. She’d been holding her breath. She probably thought I’d cry. Or maybe she thought I’d burn the bridge, screaming about how I’d carried the Midwest’s largest accounts on my back for thirty-six months. I’d won “Producer of the Year” at the last annual gala. She was the one who handed me the trophy, beaming at the cameras, telling the board that I was the “unshakable foundation” of her department. That was only eight months ago. “Reggie,” I said, using the nickname I knew she hated when things were formal. “I’m going to pack my desk now. I’ll be out by five.” “Oh? So soon?” “Let’s be real. The severance offer expires at end of business today. I wouldn’t want to give the firm an excuse to ‘realign’ the payout, too.” A flicker of embarrassment crossed her face. She knew the drill. Sign today: full package. Wait until tomorrow: a legal battle for half. “Well,” she cleared her throat, “regarding the transition, you’ll need to brief Hailey on the current pipelines, client dossiers, and project timelines—” “No need.” I cut her off. “Excuse me?” “My laptop doesn’t hold client dossiers. Everything the firm is legally entitled to is already in the CRM. As for project timelines, I submitted my weekly report on Friday. You should have read it by now.” Madeline’s expression soured. “Ben, what is this attitude? We’re trying to make this professional.” “This is professional,” I countered. “The agreement states my final day is today. I will complete my contractual obligations before I leave. Is there an issue?” She opened her mouth, then closed it. Tyler kept his head down, pretending to be very interested in the staples of his folder. I grabbed my messenger bag and walked to the door, but stopped with my hand on the handle. “By the way, Reggie. Just a curiosity.” “What?” “How many people are being let go today?” She hesitated. “I don’t see why that’s relevant.” “Just wondering about the ‘alignment.’” She tried to hold my gaze but failed. “Sixteen.” “Sixteen,” I nodded. “All from our department?” “No. Across the firm. But… you’re the only one from the Midwest Account team.” “I see.” I pushed the door open. “Good luck with the quarter. You’re going to need it.” I checked my phone the moment I hit the hallway. 2:43 PM. A notification from Dexter, a top-tier executive recruiter, was glowing on my screen. “How’d the meeting go?” I typed back three words: “It’s done. Signed.” He replied instantly: “Perfect. I’ll pick you up at five. We’re headed to Apex Systems to finalize your offer with their CEO. Welcome to the $5 million club, Ben.” I smiled and slipped the phone into my pocket. Three months ago, Dexter had called me out of the blue. He’d said, “Ben, Apex Systems wants to poach you. We’re talking a $750k base, a $5 million total package over three years, plus equity.” At the time, I was sitting in my glass-walled office, watching Madeline tell me through a Zoom call that “the budget was tight” and my well-deserved raise would have to “wait another year.” Wait. She’d been asking me to wait for three years. Year one: “You’re new. Let’s see some consistency first.” Year two: “The market is volatile. We need you to be a team player.” Year three: “Your numbers are great, Ben, but you need to think about the ‘Big Picture.’ It’s not just about your individual commission.” The Big Picture. I was making $180,000 while bringing in $50 million in annual revenue. Madeline was making $800,000 while she hadn’t closed a new lead since the Obama administration. Her clients were my discoveries. Her bonuses were built on my sweat. Her “Leader of the Year” plaques were earned by my late nights. And she wanted me to wait. So, when Dexter called, I didn’t hesitate. I asked, “When’s the interview?” I’d spent the last three months playing the role of the loyal soldier, while secretly preparing for the day the “realignments” would inevitably hit. I knew the firm was looking to cut high-earners to pad the year-end margins. I knew they thought I was too expensive. I sat on my sofa that night, staring at the ceiling. I’d given this place three years. I thought I cared about the culture. But when I looked closer, who was I caring for? Madeline? Who took the credit and gave me crumbs? The firm? Who didn’t even give me a two-week heads-up? My colleagues? Half of them were already sharking for my desk space. I had fed my heart to a machine that didn’t have a soul. Why would I stay for a second longer than I had to? 2. As I packed my desk, I could hear the whispers from the neighboring cubicles. “Is Ben really gone?” “Yeah, just saw him come out of the room with the HR Reaper.” “No way. He’s the top producer. Why him?” “He’s over thirty, man. He’s got a family, mortgage, expectations. Look at the others they cut—all the seniors. They want the hungry kids who don’t know any better.” “That’s brutal.” “That’s corporate. Nobody’s indispensable.” I didn’t look back. I tucked my favorite mug, a leather pen holder, and a framed photo of my dog into a cardboard box. It took fifteen minutes. Three years and four months of a career, reduced to a box that wasn’t even full. “Ben.” I looked up. It was Hailey. I’d mentored Hailey for the last year. She was twenty-six, a Yale grad with a sharp tongue and a mediocre work ethic, but she knew how to play the office politics game better than I ever did. “You heard,” I said. “I did.” She stood there, looking performatively sad. “Ben, I’m… I’m so sorry.” “It’s fine, Hailey.” “Who did this to you? Was it Madeline? I could talk to her—” “Nobody ‘did’ anything,” I said, lifting the box. “Strategic adjustment. It’s business.” “But your numbers…” “The numbers belong to the team now, right?” I looked her dead in the eye. She flinched. At the last company retreat, when I was given the MVP award, Hailey had posted a photo on LinkedIn with the caption: “So proud of what our team has achieved together! Collaboration is the key to success.” The photo was of me and Madeline. Hailey wasn’t even in the shot, but she had framed the victory as a collective effort. She felt she’d “contributed” because she’d booked a few flight tickets and printed out some decks. “So, what’s next for you?” she asked. “Taking some time off. Re-evaluating.” “If… if you need anything,” she said, fidgeting with her lanyard. “I know a few recruiters. I could put in a word?” I laughed. “I think I’ll be okay, Hailey. Thanks.” “Ben, don’t be like that. We worked together for a year—” “Hailey,” I interrupted. “Do you know why I said the performance belongs to the team?” She shook her head. “Because that’s exactly what Madeline told the board. She said, ‘This wasn’t Ben’s win; it was the department’s.’ And while she was saying that, you were in the back of the room, nodding the loudest.” Hailey’s face went pale. “Ben, I didn’t mean it like that…” “It doesn’t matter what you meant.” I shifted the box to one arm. “What matters is—do you actually think you can replace me?” She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. “Madeline thinks you can,” I said. “The firm thinks you can. But do you?” She looked down at her shoes. “Let me ask you a question,” I said, my voice dropping to a low, cold hum. “How many major accounts are in the Midwest portfolio?” “Twenty-three,” she answered quickly. “Wrong. Twenty-seven. We signed four new ones last month. Did you miss the memo?” Silence. “Out of those twenty-seven, how many of the decision-makers’ personal cell phone numbers do you have?” “…” “How many of their procurement cycles do you know by heart? Their pain points? Their kids’ names? The exact reason they hate our competitors?” Still nothing. “You were right before,” I smiled, though it didn’t reach my eyes. “The revenue is the team’s. It’s on the company’s ledger.” I walked past her, my shoulder brushing hers. “But the clients? The clients are mine.” 3. At 5:00 PM sharp, Dexter arrived. He was driving a sleek black Porsche Cayenne, idling at the curb in front of the office tower. I threw my cardboard box into the backseat and climbed into the passenger side. “Nervous?” he asked, pulling into traffic. “Why would I be nervous?” “True.” He grinned. “The guys at Apex are more anxious than you are. Their CEO, Malcolm, called me three times today just to make sure you hadn’t changed your mind.” Apex Systems. The undisputed titan of the industrial software world. They’d just finished a massive Series C round, valued at over a billion dollars. Their Midwest presence was currently a vacuum—a massive opportunity with no one to lead it. They didn’t just want an account manager. They wanted a general. And they knew I had the map to the territory. “Dex,” I said. “Yeah?” “Do you think I’m worth $5 million?” Dexter glanced at me, his expression turning serious. “What are you thinking, Ben?” “Just… reflecting on the last few hours.” “You’re absolutely worth it,” Dexter said. “The five million isn’t just for your time. It’s for the three years of relationships you’ve built and the technical expertise you possess. If Apex tries to build the Midwest from scratch, it’ll take them five years and twenty million dollars in trial and error. With you, they skip the line. You’re a shortcut.” “I guess you’re right.” “So don’t overthink it. You’re worth what the market is willing to pay.” I nodded, looking out the window as the city lights began to flicker on. Madeline had told me I was “replaceable.” The firm had told me I was “overhead.” At $180,000, I wasn’t worth keeping. At $5 million, I was the prize they were fighting for. “You know what the biggest thing I learned in the last three years is?” I asked. “What?” “Never let anyone else set your price.” Dexter chuckled. “Sounds like something out of a self-help book.” “But it’s the truth,” I said. “Three years ago, I walked into that building thinking my goal was to be a ‘good employee.’ Then I realized ‘good employee’ is just a code word bosses use to keep you compliant.” “Go on.” “Think about it. What is a ‘good employee’? Someone who is obedient, works late, doesn’t complain, doesn’t ask for more. You take the hits, you stay in your lane, and then, when it’s time for a raise, they tell you that you still have ‘room to grow.’” I let out a short, sharp laugh. “I spent three years being a ‘good employee’ and all I got was a cardboard box. So, I learned.” “Learned what?” “To be good to myself instead.” The Porsche pulled into the Apex Systems campus. It was a sprawling, modern tech fortress—three times the size of my old firm. It had a gym, a rooftop lounge, and a vibe that felt like the future rather than a dying cubicle farm. “We’re here,” Dexter said. “Malcolm is waiting in the boardroom.” I pushed the door open, feeling the warm evening air hit my face. “Dexter, thanks.” “For what? I’m just doing my job.” “For the phone call three months ago. You didn’t just poach me.” “I know,” he said, looking at me with a knowing smirk. “So, tell me. Out of those twenty-seven clients… how many are coming with you?” I thought about the cell phone numbers in my contacts. The dinners. The trust. “At least eighteen,” I said. “To start.” “And does Madeline know?” “She hasn’t a clue.” “What’s she going to do when she finds out?” “She’s going to regret calling me ‘replaceable.’” Dexter laughed, a rich, appreciative sound. “Then let’s give her something to regret.”

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On my thirtieth birthday, I received a ghost from my past. It was a package, wrapped in cheap, crinkly brown paper. Inside sat a vintage handheld GameBoy—the exact model I had spent my entire childhood praying for. Becca, my senior colleague, leaned over my cubicle and let out a soft whistle. “Thirty years old and someone’s sending you vintage toys?” she teased, her eyes twinkling. “That’s either the mark of someone who knows your soul… or someone who really, really hates you.” I forced a smile, my fingers tracing the cold plastic buttons. “You’ve got a sharp intuition, Becca. You hit the nail on the head.” The person who sent this was the person I had been closest to in this world. And, without a doubt, the person who had carved the deepest scars into my heart. But it had been years. Hate, love—they were just different sides of the same exhausting coin. At this point, I didn’t want either. 1. Underneath the console was a handwritten letter. It was thousands of words long, a sprawling manifesto of supposed “sincerity” and “regret.” I didn’t bother reading past the first paragraph. I tossed the letter and the GameBoy straight into the trash can. Becca gasped, reaching out as if to catch them. “Sadie! If you don’t want it, let me have it. My son is obsessed with these ‘relics.’ This thing is probably worth fifty bucks on eBay. I’ll pay you for it!” “Fifty bucks?” I let out a dry, hollow laugh. “Is that all it’s worth?” I waved her off, telling her to just take it. She felt guilty, though, and insisted on taking me out to lunch to make up for it. At the restaurant, I spent five minutes meticulously picking every piece of zucchini out of my pasta. It was a reflex, a twitch I couldn’t unlearn. I caught Becca watching me, her expression a mix of pity and confusion. “You probably think I’m ridiculous,” I said, my voice dropping. “A grown woman acting like a picky toddler. Dressing in these bright, ‘young’ colors, trying so hard to look like a girl who hasn’t been broken yet.” Becca shook her head vigorously, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. “Don’t you dare go there. Life is too short to eat things you hate or wear things that make you feel invisible. I tell my son all the time: we aren’t rich, but we aren’t so poor that we have to deprive ourselves of the small joys. You live once. You should be comfortable in your own skin.” Such a simple concept. And yet, it had taken me thirty years to even hear the words. I thought about that GameBoy, a toy that had never truly belonged to me. A sad, helpless smile pulled at my lips. “Becca, have you ever heard the saying? We spend our entire adult lives haunted by the things we were denied as children.” My list of denials was long. My obsessions ran deep. Becca opened her mouth to ask more, but she froze. I followed her gaze. Standing just outside the glass doors of the restaurant was my mother, June. She was clutching a thermal lunch bag, her eyes—dull and sunken—lit up the moment she saw me. Within seconds, they were brimming with practiced tears. “Sadie… oh, thank God. I finally found you.” She rushed inside, ignoring the stares of the other diners. “You’ve been gone for so long. Do you have any idea how worried your father and I have been? We’re a family, Sadie. We’ve missed you so much.” A small crowd began to gather, drawn by the drama. June saw them and leaned into the performance, dabbing at her eyes with a tattered tissue. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” she sobbed softly. “Parents don’t hold grudges. It’s your birthday, honey. I made your favorite. I brought it all this way. Please, eat it while it’s hot.” She unzipped the bag and pulled out a container. Inside was a gray, congealed mess of zucchini and eggplant. No seasoning, no sauce, just a watery, slimy mush that looked like something a body had rejected. I stared at it. My vision blurred with a sudden, violent heat. I tried to swallow the bile rising in my throat, but I couldn’t. I stood up and swiped the container off the table. It hit the floor with a wet thud, the gray slime splattering across the tiles. “June, you know damn well,” I hissed, my voice shaking with decades of repressed rage. “I hate zucchini and eggplant more than anything in this world. Almost as much as I hate that GameBoy!” The restaurant went silent. June’s bottom lip trembled. She looked around at the onlookers, then slowly lowered her head, looking small and defeated. “It’s my fault,” she whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I forgot. You’re a ‘city girl’ now. My cooking isn’t good enough for you anymore. But it’s not dirty… I’ll eat it. I won’t let it go to waste…” She actually knelt down. She began to scoop the mush off the floor with her bare fingers, moving it toward her mouth. “Sadie, that’s enough!” a colleague from a nearby table shouted, stepping forward to pull June up. “How can you treat your own mother like this? She traveled all this way just to bring you lunch, and you act like a spoiled brat?” “She’s a monster,” another whispered. “To treat an old woman that way… no wonder people say she’s cold.” The judgment hit me like a physical weight. June’s sobbing intensified. She started apologizing for “failing as a mother,” telling the strangers how I had always been “difficult,” a “liar,” and nothing like my “sweet, successful brother.” My eyes stung, but I refused to let the tears fall. I reached into my bag and pulled out the legal document—the formal estrangement papers I’d had drawn up years ago. I slammed them onto the table in front of her. “You were the one who told me we were done, June! You signed these! Why are you here now, putting on this sick show? Do you want me to tell them? Do you want me to tell everyone exactly what you did?” 2. June’s mouth twitched. She let out a ragged breath. “What is there to tell, Sadie? The same old story? That we ‘favored’ your brother?” She turned to the crowd, her voice gaining strength. “We worked ourselves to the bone to put her through school, and she spent her time skipping class and getting into fights. She barely scraped through a community college. We didn’t even blame her! But then, she got herself pregnant at eighteen, brought shame on this family that we had to carry for years. Meanwhile, her brother… he’s a saint. He’s the one who told me to come. He’s the one who worried about his big sister being all alone.” She collapsed into a chair, looking like she was about to faint. Becca tugged at my sleeve, her voice a panicked whisper. “Sadie, just apologize. You’re up for a promotion. Don’t let her ruin this. You’ve worked too hard to let your reputation go up in flames over a bowl of vegetables.” I looked at June. I realized then that her timing wasn’t accidental. She hadn’t come for my birthday. She had come for my jugular. Was this “gift” supposed to be a peace offering, or was it a slow-acting poison meant to hollow me out? I had spent fifteen years being quiet. Fifteen years swallowing the “gray mush” of my life. Not today. I looked at the woman who shared my blood, my voice turning ice-cold. “Let’s talk about being ‘poor,’ June. That was your favorite word, wasn’t it? ‘We’re too poor, Sadie.’” Since I could remember, that word was a cage. June told me I was born sickly, that my medical bills had drained their savings. To “save money,” I was fed the cheapest scraps—discount zucchini that was practically rotting, bitter eggplant from a neglected garden patch. Boiled together until it was inedible. But Tyler? Tyler had steak. Tyler had roast beef. I remember the smell of it, how my stomach would cramp with hunger. Once, I reached for a piece of his food. June slammed a hot frying pan down onto my hand. I lifted my hand, showing the faint, jagged scar on my palm to the room. “You still want to tell them you weren’t ‘favoring’ him?” June shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “Sadie, that’s not how it was! You were allergic to protein! I was trying to save you! I was terrified you’d go into shock. I bought you the best ointments afterward…” “The ‘ointment’ was toothpaste mixed with lard, June. It gave me an infection that turned into a fever so high I hallucinated for three days. You told me the hospital was too expensive and gave me a bag of frozen peas for my head. I missed my final exams because I fainted during the gym test. That’s why I didn’t get into a top-tier university. And then you used those grades as ‘proof’ that I was lazy and stupid.” June shifted in her seat, her expression flickering between embarrassment and defiance. “That was an accident. And I tried to make it up to you, didn’t I?” “Oh, you made it up to me alright,” I said, my laugh sounding like glass breaking. “With another bowl of zucchini.” 3. After I failed to get into the state university, I begged them to let me retake my senior year. I knew I could do it if I was healthy. But the answer was always the same: No money. “Sadie, it’s not that we don’t want to,” June would say, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. “We’re still paying off your childhood medical debts. Just go to the vocational school. It’s the same thing. I’ll make you a huge feast for your birthday to celebrate.” I was naive enough to believe her. I told myself I’d work twice as hard, make them proud. On my birthday, I put on the only nice thing I owned—a hand-me-down dress from a cousin that was three years too small. June did make a feast. There was steak, lobster, a three-tier cake. She’d invited every relative we had. She said it was a “once-in-a-lifetime” day. But when I walked into the dining room, the banner on the wall didn’t have my name. CONGRATULATIONS TYLER ON GETTING INTO THE ACADEMY! The lobster, the steak, the cake—it was all for him. His “big day.” I was a ghost at my own party. June had pulled me into the kitchen, away from the guests. She pulled a small bowl out of the microwave. “You’re still recovering, honey. Rich food is bad for your digestion. I made you a special batch of zucchini and eggplant. I even put a little bacon grease in it for flavor. It’s all yours.” I watched through the kitchen door as my father sat in the living room, bragging to my aunt. “Twenty thousand,” my father said, patting Tyler on the back. “That’s what the tuition and the ‘donation’ cost to get him into that school. Worth every penny. A boy like Tyler is going to lead this family. He’s the legacy.” “Twenty thousand?” my aunt gasped. “That’s a down payment on a house!” “Tyler’s a star,” my father replied, his voice thick with pride. “Not like Sadie. That girl isn’t cut out for books. Once she’s eighteen, we’ll get her a job at the plant so she can start saving for Tyler’s wedding fund.” Tyler sat there, stuffing his face with cake, looking at me with a smirk that said he knew exactly what was happening. He was the prince; I was the cattle. I looked at June now, standing in the middle of the restaurant. “Twenty thousand dollars. You told me we were starving, but you had twenty thousand for Tyler’s ‘donation.’ And you wouldn’t give me two thousand for a tutor.” My teacher had come to the house back then, begging them to let me continue. They lied to her face, saying they were broke. When she suggested a student loan, June screamed at her, saying it would “ruin the family’s reputation” to have a debt-ridden daughter. The people in the restaurant were starting to look away now, their faces softening into something like shame. June, sensing the shift, tried one last desperate move. “I didn’t want you going away because I was afraid you’d get into trouble! I heard the rumors, Sadie! You were hanging around those boys, staying out late. I was trying to protect you!” I let out a harsh, jagged laugh. “The ‘boys’ you’re talking about were the only reason I didn’t starve. They were the ones who shared their sandwiches with me because they saw me fainting in class! If it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t have made it to eighteen!”

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In the fifth year after I legally severed ties with my family, I waited on a familiar table of guests at the restaurant where I worked. As I carried their pre-ordered cake into the private dining room, the family of three suddenly froze. I didn’t blink. I sang “Happy Birthday,” placed the cake on the table, and politely closed the door behind me. But a moment later, the daughter chased me out into the hallway, holding out a slice of cake on a small plate. “Mom told me to bring this to you. Today is your birthday too.” “In all the years you’ve been gone, Mom and Dad talk about you every single day. They’re getting older. Just come home, okay?” The young woman’s eyes actually welled up with tears as she spoke. I remained perfectly polite, utterly detached, and gave a slight shake of my head. The next second, the slice of cake was smashed forcefully against my chest. An older woman stormed out of the room, screaming: “What did we ever do to mistreat you?! Why do you hate us this much?!” I quietly looked at the young woman standing in front of me—my identical twin sister. I thought about it for a second. Probably because her name was “Hope.” And my name was “Blight.” 1 The commotion in the hallway was loud. When my parents rushed out of the private room, their eyes instinctively locked onto Hope first. “Hope, sweetie, are you okay? Don’t be upset, baby.” My mother, always the emotional one, wrapped her arms around Hope, who was trembling with manufactured anger. My mother’s eyes were red. I quietly pulled some paper towels from an apron pocket and began wiping the frosting off my uniform. Out of habit, I didn’t say a word. The man, who had initially swallowed his reprimand, suddenly exploded when he saw my passive reaction. “Blight, this is your mother and your sister! What kind of attitude is that?! You disappear without a word for five years, and the first time we see you, you decide to throw a tantrum and show us up?!” Hearing that name again after five years—the name I despised from the absolute bottom of my soul—still made my stomach physically churn. My breath hitched for a second. When I looked up again, I flashed a perfect, corporate customer-service smile. “I apologize, sir. My name is Maya.” “If you don’t need anything else from me, I’m going to step away to clean my uniform, so I don’t ruin your appetite.” Five years of grinding through the real world had taught me not to act on impulse. After delivering my lines smoothly, I turned and walked away. Behind me, the three of them stood frozen in place, as if they’d been struck by lightning. They probably never imagined that the hysterical, scorched-earth daughter who had severed ties with them would ever become so polished and detached. … By the time I finished my shift and cleaned up, it was late at night. Just as I walked up to the bus stop, a car slowly pulled up to the curb right in front of me. The window rolled down, revealing my mother’s cautious face. “It’s too late. Let me give you a ride.” Seemingly afraid I would refuse, she quickly added, “It’s just Mom. Just let Mom give you a ride, okay?” The flickering streetlights reflected in her eager eyes. The sight of it almost made me laugh. My mother, a renowned child psychologist, was always so confident. She honestly believed that if she just showed up, she could win me back. I had seen this exact tactic when I was a child. But I wasn’t a child anymore. “No need. My roommate is on her way to pick me up.” Clearly not expecting a rejection, she looked stunned for a moment, but stubbornly refused to drive away. I knew she probably thought I was just making up an excuse. But I had no desire to explain anything to her. There was no point. 2 When my mother first got pregnant, she had a strong feeling she was having a girl. She picked out the name “Hope” very early on. She was at the absolute peak of her career. As a child psychologist, she had seen her fair share of broken, unhappy families, so she was absolutely determined to give her child a life filled with hope and light. Unfortunately, she had identical twin girls. The delivery was horrific; she suffered a massive hemorrhage and nearly died. Lying in her hospital bed, weak and exhausted, her eyes burned with an astonishing level of resentment. “Name one Hope, and name the other one Blight. She’s just an unwanted extra anyway. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have almost died!” And so, the second-born twin—me—was burdened with the sin of nearly killing my mother before I even opened my eyes. For the next few years, I was always the forgotten one. For a busy professional like my mother, taking care of one child was already exhausting. When it came to the “extra” child, she just did the bare minimum to keep me alive. Because of this, Hope constantly used our identical faces to her advantage, eating my portions of food without anyone ever noticing. One night, I was so hungry my stomach cramped. I sneaked into the kitchen. I knew there was half a cup of yogurt left in the fridge from what Hope had been eating. Earlier that day, after she finished my portion of yogurt, she was too full to finish her own. She whined to my mother to put it in the fridge so she could eat it tomorrow. “Mommy, this is my yogurt. You can’t give it to Blight,” she had insisted repeatedly. I stared at my mother, desperately wanting to expose the lie. But the moment I opened my mouth, I was impatiently cut off: “Blight, I told you, you and your sister get one cup each! You are not allowed to steal from your sister!” But I was so incredibly hungry. I was so hungry I couldn’t sleep. I’ll just take a tiny taste. Nobody will notice, I thought. I held the yogurt cup, dipped my finger in, and licked it. It tasted amazing. But the very next second, I was caught by Hope, who had followed me. The house lit up as she started screaming and crying. I stared at the yogurt that had spilled all over the floor from the shock, completely terrified and lost. “Blight! You’re learning how to steal at this age?! Didn’t I tell you this belonged to your sister?! Are you that much of a glutton?!” My mother hugged a sobbing, hiccuping Hope and screamed at me. Hope kept going: “Actually, my sister always steals my snacks…” Lie. She was the one who constantly stole my snacks! “And at lunch, my sister didn’t like the steak you made, Mommy. I said I would eat it, but she just threw it in the trash and said she’d rather throw it away than give it to me…” Lie. I didn’t throw that steak away on purpose. She didn’t like it, but she refused to let me eat it. My mother stroked a rambling Hope’s hair, her eyes filled with nothing but heartbreak for her. I panicked. “No, Mommy, it’s not true! It’s not what she said!” I wanted to defend myself, but I was terrible with words. All I could do was repeat, “It wasn’t me,” and “I didn’t steal it,” over and over again. “I didn’t pick the wrong name for you. You really do live up to your name. You’re a blight, rotten right down to the root. Blight, how did I ever give birth to a bad seed like you?!” Beep! The sound of a horn pulled me out of my memories. My roommate pulled up on her electric scooter. Just as I was about to climb onto the back seat, my mother actually stepped out of her car. “Blight… are you really choosing to ride on that piece of junk instead of getting in my car? It’s freezing tonight. Why do you insist on making yourself suffer like this?” She reached out to grab my arm. My response was to ruthlessly slap her hand away. “Mrs. Miller,” I still addressed her formally. “Isn’t everything I am today entirely your doing?” 3 Years of neglect and false accusations molded me into someone extremely sensitive and quick to anger. I was the absolute polar opposite of Hope, who had excellent grades, a sunny personality, and was the textbook example of my mother’s perfect parenting. “Mr. Miller, Mrs. Miller, we asked you to come in today regarding a bullying incident involving Blight. She put an allergen into a classmate’s water bottle. The student is currently in the hospital.” “The school has a zero-tolerance policy for bullying. We have decided to expel Blight.” Before arriving at the principal’s office, I had absolutely no idea what was going on. Sure, my grades were terrible, I hated talking to people, and I looked like someone you didn’t want to mess with. But I strictly lived by the rule: If you don’t mess with me, I won’t mess with you. I barely even knew the classmate they were talking about. I immediately knew it was Hope. She used our identical faces to do something horrible and pinned it on me. Half of my terrible reputation was a direct result of her actions. If it were the usual petty gossip, I wouldn’t have bothered explaining. But I didn’t want to be expelled. “Hope brought mangoes from home this morning. I didn’t put them in the bottle.” I stared intensely at the two people sitting in front of me—the people I biologically belonged to, but refused to acknowledge as parents. It wasn’t until the words left my mouth that I realized my palms were sweating profusely from anxiety. I forced my chin up, confronting them. “It wasn’t me. Hope did it. She was jealous because that girl took the number one rank in the grade from her last week.” Their faces were dark. My father was the first to let out a cold snort. “Look at the wonderful daughter you raised! You call yourself a child psychologist, and you can’t even teach your own child!” With that, he turned and walked out, completely washing his hands of the situation, just like he always did. My mother despised anyone using her proud career as a weapon against her. She spun around and delivered a vicious slap, snapping my head to the side. She pointed a shaking finger at me, screaming that I was a “failure.” “Hope has always had perfect grades! Why would she be jealous of anyone?! Blight, you are truly beyond saving. You actually tried to drag your sister down with you!” I was forcibly expelled. Locked in the house all day, I eventually developed severe bipolar disorder. Most days, I just lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, letting time waste away. Forgetting to eat for an entire day was normal. My family treated me like I was invisible. They only checked in to make sure I was still breathing. To them, it was better that I didn’t have the energy to cause trouble. One day, I turned on the TV, and by pure coincidence, an interview with my mother was playing. The interviewer asked, “What is your perspective on the increasingly severe mental health issues among teenagers in modern society?” On TV, my mother looked infinitely kinder and more approachable than she ever did with me. She smiled and said, “A child’s psychological issues mostly stem from parental neglect. We need to start with the parents, building bridges of communication…” “With a mother like you, your child must be incredibly outstanding,” the interviewer marveled. She nodded in agreement. “Yes, I have an incredibly outstanding daughter. Her name is—” “Hope.” 4 I smashed the TV. But to them, I was just “throwing another tantrum.” My mother couldn’t even be bothered to look at me. I stood barefoot amidst the shattered glass and plastic, the soles of my feet sliced open and bleeding. From that day on, I started acting out with a vengeance. Since my mother refused to acknowledge me as her daughter, I was going to violently prove my existence. I stopped coming home at night. I stopped going to school. I learned how to smoke, how to drink, and how to waste my days in internet cafes. I was willing to destroy myself if it meant inflicting damage on them. Even though it brought me zero pleasure, I still used every ounce of my energy to torture them. I went back to the internet cafe. Sitting in front of the computer, I started staring into space again. I didn’t actually want to use the computer; it was just a habit to sit there for two hours. It was enough time for my clothes to soak up the smell of stale cigarette smoke, just so I could go home and piss off my mother. But that day, I met Julian. The only light I would ever have in the first half of my life. When I saw him sneaking into the internet cafe, trying to hide his face, I couldn’t believe it. After all, this was “delinquent behavior” according to my mother. I never imagined Julian—the genius math Olympiad champion—would ever set foot in a place like this. Logically, a complete academic failure like me shouldn’t have ever had the chance to meet Julian. But ironically, he was the object of Hope’s intense jealousy and admiration. Hope was ranked number one in our grade, but that was only because Julian was fully focused on national competitions and didn’t take the regular school exams. She absolutely hated it when people said that if Julian came back to regular classes, she would have to step down from the throne. Over time, I had constructed an image of an untouchable genius based on her complaints. He was completely different from the clumsy guy sitting next to me, who couldn’t even figure out where the power button on the PC tower was. I leaned over and pressed the power button for him. “Thanks.” He smiled sheepishly. After that, I always saw Julian in the exact same seat on Friday afternoons. As time went on, we got to know each other. He told me his family was incredibly strict. He only had two short hours of free time on Friday afternoons. “I actually hate the math competitions. It’s incredibly dry and boring, and studying for it is exhausting. But my parents exhaust themselves trying to push me to the top, so all I can do is sneak out to relax for a bit.” “Maya, please keep my secret.” I hadn’t told him my real name. The word “Blight” was too ugly. I didn’t want to hear it coming from his mouth. I had wondered countless times why my mother couldn’t have named me something normal, like Maya. That way, I could be Maya, and that other person could be Blight. Julian and I always played co-op games together. He would tell me all the school gossip, even though I had been expelled a long time ago. Sometimes, he would bring me snacks—cake, chocolate… The first time I drank the yogurt he brought me, I cried. “What’s wrong? Does it taste bad? I won’t bring it next time,” he panicked, clumsily trying to wipe my tears, looking completely devastated. I let myself enjoy the feeling of being cared for. With tears shining in my eyes, I smiled and replied: “This is the first time I’ve ever had yogurt. It’s so good, it’s so good I could cry!” We became best friends who talked about everything. The distance between us closed rapidly. My mental health issues were finally under control, and everything seemed to be moving in a positive direction. We were in the noisy internet cafe, in the middle of a co-op match, when the guy next to us raged at his game and violently threw his water cup across the desk. I was sitting right next to him and jumped out of my skin. When I regained my senses, I realized Julian had instinctively pulled me into his arms, shielding me. Wrapped in a tight embrace, I looked up, just as he looked down. “Are you okay? Did it scare you?” I shook my head. Our breaths tangled together, and my face instantly flushed burning red. Julian froze for a second, then awkwardly pulled away. We went back to our game, but neither of us could focus. Suddenly, my pinky finger was hooked by his. I turned my head and met Julian’s youthful, slightly nervous face. “Maya, let’s go out,” he said. I felt like I had been hit by a truck made of pure joy. My face turned bright red, and I had no idea what to do. Julian, however, immediately regretted his delivery. “Oh man, I should have prepared a proper, formal confession for you.” I still remember telling him it didn’t matter, that he could just give me one later. But later, in the dead of night, waking up from nightmares, I would always cry and whisper: “Don’t be with me.” I’ll ruin you.

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I discovered my husband secretly bought a voice recorder. When I casually asked him about it, he exploded: “Are you going to interrogate me about my work equipment too?” “If you have that much free time, go get a damn job!” I didn’t argue. Instead, I swapped the SD card in the recorder for a micro signal transmitter. The next day, he and his new mistress were seeking a thrill in his car. Every word of their conversation was broadcast via Bluetooth, Streaming live to the massive outdoor speakers of the neighborhood park’s Zumba class. 1. Mrs. Higgins, the lead dancer of the park Zumba group, was just about to change the track when the upbeat salsa music abruptly cut out. It was replaced by a harsh burst of static, followed immediately by incredibly explicit, red-faced noises blaring from the high-wattage outdoor speakers. “Oh… Carter… be gentle…” The sweet, breathy female voice was amplified by the heavy bass, rolling like thunder across the entire community park. Hundreds of seniors, mid-stretch and mid-kick, froze in unison as if someone had hit the pause button. Then came Carter’s familiar voice, dripping with a sleazy arrogance I had never heard before: “What are you scared of? This car has great soundproofing. That ugly old hag is still at home, stupidly waiting for me to finish ‘working late.’” The entire park went dead silent. The only sound was the obscene activity echoing from the speakers, growing louder, so clear it felt like they were right next to us. Mrs. Higgins stood frozen for a few seconds before her fan dropped to the concrete with a clatter. She was closest to the speakers, and the sheer volume of the moaning was making her heart race. “Wh… which couple left their windows open?” someone in the crowd muttered. “What couple?! Listen to what they’re saying, that’s an affair!” I sat on a bench at the edge of the park, pulling the brim of my baseball cap down low, clutching the receiver remote in my hand. I watched the black BMW X5 parked a short distance away, its windows tinted pitch-black. The chassis of the SUV was currently rocking to the rhythm of the sounds coming from the speakers. The conversation from the speakers continued, and the content only got more explosive. “So when are you going to divorce her? I don’t want to keep sneaking around like this.” “Soon, soon,” Carter’s voice sounded vicious. “That idiot is obsessing over getting pregnant right now. She forces me to watch her take her prenatal vitamins every day. She has no idea I replaced her expensive imported folic acid with long-term birth control pills, and even added a little ‘extra ingredient.’ As long as she can’t get pregnant and her health completely crashes, my mom will naturally force her out of the house.” If the crowd was just watching a sideshow before, that sentence completely shifted the atmosphere in the park. The seniors, who had been whispering amongst themselves, turned pale with fury. Everyone here had sons and daughters. Who could stomach hearing such a malicious, pure evil scheme? “Is he even human? Drugging his own wife?!” “That is pure evil! He’s trying to kill her!” Listening to the curses from the crowd, my fingernails dug so deeply into my palms they drew blood, but I couldn’t feel the pain. So that was it. That was why my health had been deteriorating for the past two years, why I had been experiencing unexplained bleeding. It was all his doing. Rage boiled in my veins, but I had to stay calm. 2. “Ugh, let’s not talk about that buzzkill of a woman,” the female voice whined playfully. “Babe, are we… are we going to get caught out here?” “Relax, I scoped this place out,” Carter said smugly. “These old geezers doing their little dances blast their music so loud, it’s the perfect cover. They can make their noise, and we can have our fun. It’s thrilling.” The words “old geezers” acted like a spark dropped into a powder keg. Mrs. Higgins was shaking with rage. She snatched her fan off the ground and waved it furiously: “This is outrageous! Doing their dirty business right under our noses and insulting us?!” “They’re parked right under the oak trees! I knew that black SUV looked suspicious!” Someone yelled, and hundreds of eyes simultaneously locked onto the parking spaces along the street. That black BMW X5 stuck out like a sore thumb under the streetlights. “Let’s go! Let’s see what kind of animal is in there!” The crowd surged toward the car like a dam breaking, a massive, unstoppable wave. I blended into the back of the crowd, watching as Carter’s car was completely surrounded, packed tight with angry seniors. The people inside clearly hadn’t realized what was happening, until the female voice let out a terrified shriek: “Carter! Why… why are there so many people outside?!” “What?!” Carter’s panicked roar came through the speakers, followed by the frantic rustling of clothes being thrown on. People started banging on the car windows: “Get out here! Explain yourself!” “Drugging people and cursing us out?! Get your ass out of the car!” The BMW rocked violently, pushed back and forth by the furious crowd like a tiny boat in a hurricane. Carter was clearly panicking. He tried to start the car, but he was completely blocked in, front and back. He rolled the window down a crack and yelled in exasperation: “What are you doing?! What the hell are you doing?! This is my private property! Move or I’m calling the cops!” That shout, picked up by the pen-shaped recorder clipped to his collar, was broadcast crystal clear across the entire park once again. “Call the cops? Go ahead and call them!” Mrs. Higgins had a fiery temper. She marched right up and pointed the park’s megaphone directly at the crack in his window. “Let the police decide who’s right: the scumbag drugging his wife, or the citizens catching a degenerate!” Carter’s face, flashing in and out of the shadows behind the tinted glass, was as white as a sheet. He probably couldn’t dream in a million years that his every word and action was currently being broadcast live to the entire neighborhood. While both sides were locked in a standoff, I gently tapped the screen of my phone. If I was going to drop the hammer, I was going to make sure he never got back up. I switched the signal source. Instead of broadcasting the live audio, I played an encrypted audio file I had recovered from the deepest, hidden folders of his recorder. 3. The chaotic noise from the speakers suddenly stopped. It was replaced by the dead-silent ambient noise of a closed office, followed by Carter’s lowered voice, sounding dark and incredibly greedy. “Mr. Lee, I’ve already taken care of the QA reports for that batch of steel rebar. So what if it’s all defective? Once it’s buried inside the concrete pillars, God himself won’t be able to see it. As long as that three million dollar wire hits my account, I’ll personally sign off on the final inspection for the Grandview redevelopment project.” The seniors, who had been aggressively slapping the car windows, froze in unison. The air instantly turned to lead. Grandview Estates. That was the massive, long-abandoned construction project nearby that had recently resumed building. Many of the seniors here had children who bought units there, or had sunk their own life savings into that exact project. “Defective… steel rebar?” “What is he saying? Those are our homes!” Terror spread much faster than anger, followed immediately by an explosion of rage a hundred times more violent than before. “Carter Vance?! You’re the Carter Vance from Grandview?!” “You son of a bitch! You’re building a death trap! Do you know how many people you’re going to kill?!” If this was a moral judgment before, it was now a blood feud. I don’t know who picked up the first brick, but it smashed against the BMW’s front windshield with a sickening CRASH. Spiderweb cracks instantly spidered across the glass. “Smash his car! Don’t let him escape!” “This piece of trash belongs in prison!” Inside the car, Carter completely broke down. He laid on the horn, but the sound was entirely drowned out by the roaring fury of hundreds of people. He couldn’t fathom how his top-secret, highly illegal corporate extortion was being broadcast to a public park via a Zumba speaker. Police sirens wailed in the distance, rapidly approaching. I stood in the shadows, watching as the cops struggled to push through the enraged mob, dragging a disheveled, bleeding Carter out of the car. His new mistress was paralyzed with fear, curled up under the dashboard, shaking like a leaf. The moment the handcuffs clicked shut on Carter’s wrists, his eyes were still frantically searching the crowd in a daze, desperately trying to find the mastermind who had just annihilated his entire life. But he was never going to find me. 4. I turned and walked away. When I got home, the apartment was pitch black and terrifyingly quiet. But I knew that tomorrow, this place was going to be incredibly lively. The police would come with search warrants, the loan sharks would be banging on the door, and the furious homeowners from Grandview Estates would come demanding blood. And I, as the completely “ignorant, innocent victim,” would cleanly extract myself from the wreckage. I would file for divorce as the aggrieved party, take back everything that was mine, and then some. I walked into the bathroom and dumped the swapped bottle of “folic acid” pills into the toilet, watching the pills swirl and vanish down the drain. My phone buzzed. It was a text from Carter. He must have used his one phone call or begged a cop for a second before being thrown in the back of the cruiser. It was just three words, dripping with bone-chilling desperation: [Was it you?] I poured myself a glass of red wine, raised it to the pale but bright-eyed woman in the mirror, and took a sip. Then, I slowly and methodically typed my reply: [Honey, what are you talking about? I’ve been waiting at home for you to finish work! I just heard Mrs. Higgins say they caught some pervert in the park, are you okay?] 5. The doorbell rang early the next morning. Looking through the peephole, I saw two stern faces wearing the blue uniforms of the NYPD’s Financial Crimes Unit. I quickly adjusted my makeup—making sure I looked appropriately haggard, while ensuring the concealer didn’t completely hide the redness around my eyes—and opened the door. “Are you Ms. Chloe Davis?” The older detective in front flashed his badge. “We’re with the Financial Crimes Task Force. We need to ask you a few questions regarding Carter Vance.” “Officers, please, come in,” I stepped aside, my voice trembling with carefully controlled emotion. “Carter… did he really…” I didn’t finish the sentence. I just covered my mouth with my hand, looking like a woman shattered by disbelief and grief. My performance was flawless. During the hour-long interrogation, I painted myself as a completely oblivious housewife, blissfully lost in the joy of trying to start a family. I “recalled” Carter’s recent strange behavior, like his frequent encrypted phone calls and the pen-shaped voice recorder he claimed was “for work.” “I… I just thought he was having an affair,” I sobbed, using a tissue to dab at non-existent tears. “I never in a million years thought he would do something so… so evil.” After seeing the detectives out, before I could even catch my breath, the door was pounded on like a war drum. This time, I didn’t check the peephole. I just opened it. My mother-in-law, Susan, charged in like an enraged lioness, raising her hand to slap me across the face. 6. I had anticipated this. I leaned back slightly, letting her hand swipe empty air. “Chloe, you venomous bitch!” she screamed, her eyes bloodshot, pointing her finger right at my nose. “Was it you?! Did you set up my son?! If anything happens to him, I’ll bury you with him!” “Mom, what are you talking about?” I gripped the doorframe, swaying as if I were about to faint. “I just found out what Carter did. I’m the victim here! Our family… it’s completely destroyed.” “Cut the crap!” Susan wasn’t buying it. Her usually well-maintained face was twisted into an ugly snarl, spit flying from her mouth. “Carter told me everything! He just wanted to scare you into signing the divorce papers! The drugging, the defective construction materials—you obviously hired someone to deepfake that audio!” I smoothly took a half-step back to avoid her spit. My eyes grew even more sorrowful, but I raised my voice just enough so the nosy neighbors peeking out into the hallway could hear every word. “Mom, hundreds of people in the park heard it last night. Carter admitted it himself. He said he swapped my prenatal vitamins for birth control and added other things… You watched me take those pills every single day. You praised me for being so responsible about getting pregnant. Did you know the pills were poisoned all along?!” Those words acted like a dagger, plunging directly into Susan’s weak spot. Her expression froze, and her eyes started darting nervously. “B-bullshit!” Her confidence clearly wavered, but she compensated by yelling even louder. “I just wanted a grandchild! Whose fault is it that your womb is useless?! Two years and you couldn’t even drop an egg! Carter was desperate… Even if he swapped the pills, he just didn’t want you giving birth to a retard!” Gasps echoed from the hallway. This was Carter’s mother. In her twisted logic, her son slowly poisoning his wife was justified because my “womb was useless.” I sneered internally, but on the outside, I put on an expression of world-shattering despair. I slid down the doorframe and collapsed onto the floor. “So… you did know? You watched my health deteriorate, you saw my unexplained bleeding, and you still pressured me to take those pills every day…” I clutched my chest, letting out a choked, agonizing wail. “That’s attempted murder! Mom, how could you be so cruel?!” “Shut up! Stop calling me Mom!” Seeing the neighbors pointing and whispering, some even pulling out their phones to record, Susan panicked. 7. She lunged forward to cover my mouth, but was stopped by a sharp shout from Mr. Henderson next door. “What do you think you’re doing?! Are you going to assault her too?!” Mr. Henderson was a retired city official with a strong sense of justice, and he had been at the park last night. “Susan, your son did something completely depraved, and the police dragged him away. Now you’re here bullying the victim? Do you really think the law can’t touch the two of you?!” “Exactly, that is so evil! Teaming up to drug your own daughter-in-law.” “She always looks so polite, who knew she had such a black heart?” The court of public opinion instantly turned against her. Susan, who valued her reputation above all else, turned the color of a bruised plum under the barrage of accusations. She pointed a trembling finger at me. “Fine… Chloe, you win this round! Just you wait! If Carter goes to prison, I will never let you live in peace! My son bought this apartment, get the hell out of here!” I lifted my head. Tears were still wet on my cheeks, but my eyes were terrifyingly clear, carrying a coldness that made her shudder. “Mom, this apartment is a marital asset. Carter is currently facing major federal financial crimes and aggravated assault charges. Until the court seizes the property, I have every legal right to stay here.” I paused, lowering my voice so only the two of us could hear. “Besides, everyone just recorded you admitting you knew about the drugs. Tell me, do you think the police will charge you as an accessory to attempted murder?” Susan’s pupils contracted violently. She stared at me like she was looking at a ghost. She finally realized that the meek, submissive daughter-in-law she used to abuse was completely gone.

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1 I saw a question online: What’s it like to have a twin sibling who is a hundred times more accomplished than you? I replied: Accepted my fate, made my peace with it. I even posted an eight-year-old video of my sister and me practicing violin. We’d both had three lessons. My sister played “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” beautifully, clear and melodic. My rendition of “Chaconne from Partita No. 2, BWV 1004,” however, sounded like a dull saw cutting through wood. But the comments section exploded. “Holy cow, OP, are you seriously not humble-bragging? Playing a piece as difficult as ‘Chaconne from Partita No. 2, BWV 1004’ that precisely after only three lessons?!” “As a ten-year arts student, I swear if I had one percent of OP’s talent, I’d be at Berkeley by now!” I was stunned. Growing up, my mother had always been fair, fully supporting both my sister and me. Yet, no matter what I did, I always seemed to fail. It often made my mother secretly shed tears and sigh in disappointment. After a while, I couldn’t bear to cause her worry or sadness, so I proactively gave up on every opportunity. I just focused on being the ordinary, dutiful child. How could someone like me possibly be a genius? A new comment popped up, hitting me like a lightning bolt. “OP, that violin of yours? It’s barely worth a hundred bucks, looks like a cheap fire poker!” “And your sister’s violin? That’s a five-thousand-dollar instrument.” … I stared fixedly at the screen, my hands trembling as I searched for the prices of the two violins. It was exactly as the netizens had said. A cold sweat immediately broke out on my back. A tidal wave of immense shock and bewilderment crashed over me, leaving me breathless. From outside, I heard my mother’s joyous, excited voice. Dazed, I walked out to see her video-calling my sister. “Didn’t you say you wanted to go skiing for the New Year? Mom bought you a new snowboard.” Seeing me, she pointed her chin towards her feet. “One for each of you girls. This one’s yours.” My feet felt as if they were nailed to the floor, unable to move an inch. Ever since I was little, my mother had always been like this. Whether it was academics or material possessions, my sister and I each had our own. I had always believed she was the fairest, best mother in the world. But today, my world had suddenly crumbled into ruins. Seeing me standing there, pale-faced, my mother looked puzzled. “Why are you just standing there, spacing out?” Before I could speak, my sister laughed. “Mom, don’t you remember when my sister and I went skiing as kids, and she broke her leg and was in a cast for three months?” She giggled. “She probably has PTSD from seeing this. How could she be happy?” My mother seemed to recall the memory, shaking her head with a resigned, bitter smile. “Yes, your sister has always been clumsy since childhood; she can’t compare to you in anything she tries!” I had heard that sentence for over a decade. I had grown accustomed to it, forcing myself to accept my fate and let it go. But now, countless questions were stuck in my throat, as if a hand had brutally choked me! Clutching the snowboard, I fled back to my room, feeling utterly lost. The first thing I did was check the price! The result slapped me hard again. My sister’s snowboard was a professional brand, costing a thousand dollars. Mine was a mere fifty dollars. Not even a fraction of my sister’s. My hands trembling, I posted a plea for help online. “Is this board okay for New Year’s skiing?” The comments quickly piled up. “Oh my God, I urge you to throw that trash away as soon as possible!” “That snowboard is dangerous. I bought a cheap one once, and it split in half while I was skiing. I almost broke my neck!” My nails dug deeply into my palm. In my mind, I kept replaying scenes from that ski lesson when I was ten. My sister, though slow to start, glided steadily. I, however, wobbled constantly, falling again and again. Back then, I held onto a spark of determination. I wanted to prove to my mother. That as her daughter, I was no worse than my sister. But the harder I tried, the more brutally I fell. In the icy snow, I finally couldn’t hold back my tears. Everyone thought I was crying from the pain of my broken leg. Only I knew. I hated myself for being so utterly useless! Why couldn’t I do anything right? Why couldn’t I be like my sister, earning my mother’s praise and becoming her pride? But now, the whole world was telling me. It wasn’t my clumsiness, it wasn’t my fault. All of this was merely a result of my mother’s profound selfishness hidden beneath a facade of fairness. That night, I excused myself from dinner, claiming to feel unwell. I burrowed deep under my covers, tears streaming uncontrollably, again and again, until my skin felt tight and painful. I didn’t know how to face the deep-seated resentment in my heart. Nor how to expose this cruel truth. 2 For several nights, I couldn’t sleep. In my anxious torment, my sister finally came home. Relatives gathered around her, showering her with affection and concern. “University in New York is great, but it’s so far! Your mom can’t stop talking about how much she misses you!” My mother, serving fruit, smiled at this, then sighed. “As long as the children are ambitious and successful, I fully support both of them flying far away.” She paused, then added, “It’s a shame, though. We enrolled both of them in a summer camp in New York when they were in elementary school. Chloe got perfect scores in every subject, but Lillian could only manage barely passing grades!” My fingers, gripping the wall, tightened fiercely. The relatives burst into laughter at her words. “Oh, it’s fine to be a little less academic, dear. It’s nice to have her around, steady and close.” “I still remember back then, Lillian was so stressed about her grades that she got sick in New York, throwing up and running a high fever. You were almost scared to death!” The atmosphere in the living room remained warm and jovial. “Chloe, I heard you won another violin competition?” “Haha, play something for us!” My sister smiled confidently, rising gracefully. “Of course, I’ll play ‘Chaconne from Partita No. 2, BWV 1004’ then.” The melodious violin notes filled the air. Everyone smiled, full of praise. My mother’s gaze remained fixed on my sister, her eyes openly expressing admiration and satisfaction. It was as if she were looking at the most dazzling jewel in the world, the most beautiful flower among the mountains. All of this caused my tightly strung nerves to suddenly snap. Amidst everyone’s startled gasps, I lunged forward. I snatched the violin from my sister’s hands and, like a madwoman, smashed it against the wall. My sister shrieked in terror at the sudden turn of events. My mother’s face instantly twisted, and she rose abruptly. “Lillian Miller, what on earth are you doing?!” A stinging slap caught me off guard across my face. After it landed, the air hung still for a few seconds. Even my mother herself was momentarily stunned. But only for an instant, then she stiffened her neck again. “Who are you glaring at with that dark face? What did anyone say that was wrong?” she snapped. “You are clumsier and dumber than Chloe, that’s a fact!” Her voice rose, dripping with contempt. “To be so jealous of your own sister, I didn’t realize you were so narrow-minded and petty!” Seeing her temper flare, many people discreetly gestured at me. “Yes, Lillian, for all these years, your mother has cultivated both you and your sister with equal care! We’ve all seen it; no one can find a single fault!” “It’s okay to be a little less capable, but if your personality and temper are also so terrible, that’s truly inexcusable!” The chorus of accusations felt like ropes tightening around my heart. I couldn’t bear it any longer. I rushed back to my room and pulled out several items. “Open your eyes and look closely!” I demanded. “Has my mother truly been fair to my sister and me?” I forcefully shoved the hundred-dollar violin into my sister’s hands. “If you’re so talented, play ‘Chaconne from Partita No. 2, BWV 1004’ again with this!” My mother’s face immediately changed. A flash of panic and guilt crossed her eyes. She lunged forward, trying to snatch the violin, clearly wanting to smash it to destroy the evidence. “Lillian Miller, stop being so unreasonable!” At that moment, my disappointment and pain reached their peak. “My mother bought me this trashy violin, but bought my sister a five-thousand-dollar premium one!” I yelled. “She made me, with perfect pitch, sound like I was making horrible noise. And when you made my sister and me go skiing, you bought me all this garbage gear, which resulted in me breaking my leg and nearly being permanently disabled!” After hearing my accusations, everyone was stunned, looking from me to my mother in unison. “Eleanor, is what Lillian saying true?” “This isn’t right, how can you treat your children so differently!” My mother glared fiercely at me. Then she turned, went back to her room, and returned with a stack of receipts. “So, you resent me just because I chose a slightly cheaper violin for you?” she spat. “Then why don’t you mention that when we signed up for that summer camp, your sister’s class was only three hundred dollars, but yours was five thousand!” Aunt Clara immediately snatched the receipts, scrutinizing them carefully. “Eleanor isn’t lying.” She turned to me. “Lillian, this is you being unreasonable! Your mother is famously fair and unbiased. We all know that. You can’t accuse her like this over a small matter and break your mother’s heart!” I nearly screamed in frustration. “But I didn’t even need that expensive summer camp!” The class my mother enrolled my sister in was a foundational one, tailored to her aptitude. That’s why she steadily improved, getting perfect scores every time. I, however, was put into an advanced calculus class. I couldn’t keep up even if I starved myself and didn’t sleep! Not only that, but I was constantly discouraged, feeling as stupid as a pig. After that, whenever my mother wanted to enroll me in any tutoring, that nightmarish experience would make me tremble, and I would refuse to participate again.

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I was born with a unique gift: a slander-rebound system. Any lie told about me boomerangs back onto the liar. In high school, a classmate spread a rumor that I was a slut who’d slept with a bunch of old men. That same day, he was picked up by a dozen older gentlemen and was soon hustling for them. In college, my boyfriend’s childhood friend claimed I was the star of a viral porn clip. That night, the face in every porn clip across the internet was replaced with hers. After that, no one dared to breathe a word against me. Until I was brought back to the Ashworths, the wealthy family I was born into. Cecilia, the girl who had taken my place, wrapped her arm around mine with a sickeningly sweet smile. “Anna, darling, I heard a rumor that you… well, that you had a baby out of wedlock. With a murderer, of all people.” “Now that you’re home, why didn’t you bring the child with you? We’re all family here. We won’t look down on you!” … The moment she finished, my father’s face turned to stone. “You have a bastard?” “Anna Ashworth! How old are you? How could you bring such shame upon yourself!” Seeing my father’s rage, a smirk flickered across Cecilia’s lips before she quickly covered her mouth in mock horror. “Oh my goodness… Anna, you didn’t tell Father?” “I’m so sorry, Anna, it’s all my fault… I shouldn’t have said anything.” She turned to my father, her voice pleading. “Father, please don’t blame her. She’s been all alone out there for so many years… she must have had her reasons.” “Don’t you worry,” she said, turning back to me, her eyes filled with false sincerity. “From now on, I’ll help you keep this a secret. I won’t let anyone gossip!” Just then, an elegantly dressed woman burst out of the mansion and threw her arms around me. “Anna! My daughter… I finally found you!” She sobbed into my shoulder, only realizing after a long moment that the air around us was thick with a strange silence. “What is it? Why are you all staring at Anna like that? What were you talking about?” “It’s nothing, Mother. Anna must be tired from the long trip. Let’s go inside,” Cecilia chirped, shooting a meaningful glance at our father, playing the part of my protector perfectly. I spoke, my voice calm. “She said I was an unwed mother who had a baby with a murderer.” My mother’s face went white. “What! Anna, you—” “I didn’t. She’s lying.” “Anna!” Cecilia’s voice shot up, tears instantly welling in her eyes. “I was only trying to help! How can you say I’m lying?” She took a choked step back. “Do you really want me to expose all your dirty secrets in front of everyone?” She bit her lip, glancing at our parents as if she couldn’t bear to say more. “What else is there?!” Father’s veins bulged on his forehead. “Cecilia, speak! I want the whole truth, now!” Cecilia looked as if she’d made a difficult decision, bowing deeply to me. “I’m sorry, Anna… I know you wanted to hide it, but our parents have a right to know the truth.” She took a deep, theatrical breath. “When I heard you were coming home, I tried to find out about your interests… but instead, I accidentally discovered…” She paused, as if the words were too foul to speak. “Anna… since high school, she’s been… selling her body…” A collective gasp went through the onlookers. Father trembled with rage. “You wretched creature! How could the Ashworth family produce something so vile!” Mother stumbled back, her eyes wide with disbelief. But I just looked at Cecilia with a faint, knowing smile. “Are you sure about that? Lying has consequences, you know.” “Of course it’s true! You—” “Retch—!” Before she could finish, a violent wave of nausea hit her. She clutched her stomach, which seemed to bulge slightly. I blinked, a slow smile spreading across my face. See? I told you there would be consequences. “Cecilia! What’s wrong? Why are you being sick?” My parents rushed to her side, their voices frantic with worry. I stood my ground, tilting my head. “Oh, Cecilia. The way you’re retching… it’s almost like you have morning sickness.” The air froze for a few seconds. “What are you talking about!” Cecilia shrieked, as if mortally wounded. “I don’t even have a boyfriend! How could I be pregnant?” “You can’t just accuse me of your own… your own filthy behavior…” Seeing her tear-streaked face, my parents’ hearts melted. My father glared at me. “Anna Ashworth, how dare you spread such disgusting rumors about your sister! You have no class!” My mother’s face was a mask of disappointment. “Anna, that was cruel! Cecilia has never been with a man. It’s impossible for her to be pregnant.” I blinked, my expression all innocence. “It was just a thought.” “But since she’s so sick… maybe she should see a doctor!” “No!” Cecilia blurted out, then quickly covered her mouth with a cough, her eyes darting around nervously. “I just ate something bad. I’ll be fine after a little rest.” She feigned weakness, collapsing against our mother. My parents immediately helped her into the mansion. I watched them go, a thoughtful glint in my eye. Cecilia’s reaction was… off. It was almost as if she already knew she was pregnant. My gossip-loving soul ignited. I followed them into the mansion and joined the vigil by her bed. “Cecilia, I’m just so worried about you. I took the liberty of calling a doctor. He’ll be here any minute.” “If something really is wrong, it’s best to find out early. For Mom and Dad’s peace of mind, you know?” Hearing my considerate words, my parents beamed with approval. But the color drained from Cecilia’s face. She burrowed into our mother’s arms, whining, “Mother… I don’t want to see a doctor…” Mother patted her back, about to speak— “That won’t be necessary.” A low voice came from the doorway. My brother, Simon, strode in. He gave me a head-to-toe scan, his disgust unconcealed. “You’re Anna?” “Let me make one thing clear. You may be my blood, but Cecilia is my only sister.” “You have no right to interfere in her affairs.” He walked straight to Cecilia’s bed and gently wiped her tears. “If you don’t want to see a doctor, you don’t have to. Big brother is here for you.” At that, Cecilia threw herself into Simon’s arms, sobbing. “I knew you were the best to me, Simon!” I watched them, a spark of inspiration hitting me. “You two are so close!” I said with childlike innocence. “Even though you aren’t related by blood, you’re so intimate!” The mood in the room shifted instantly. Simon dropped his arms as if he’d been burned, his ears turning red. His eyes blazed with fury. “What the hell are you talking about!” Cecilia started crying again, looking at me with wounded eyes. “Anna, how could you say that about me and Simon?” “Are you just trying to change the subject? To stop Mom and Dad from asking about your illegitimate child, you decided to spread rumors about me?” She bit her lip, looking crushed. “You know… I found out you had been taken advantage of, and I was going to ask our parents to stand up for you… I can’t believe you’d treat me like this…” Mother immediately grew tense. “Taken advantage of? Anna, who hurt you?” I sat down, amused. “I have no idea. Cecilia, who hurt me?” “Anna, don’t be afraid. It wasn’t your fault…” Tears of sympathy welled in her eyes. “I found out that… a few months ago, you were… dragged into an alley by seven or eight thugs…” “They… they did things to you…” She sighed, reaching for my hand. “That first time… it wasn’t your fault. But Anna, how could you be so foolish? Why did you keep seeing them?” “The neighbors in the alley all said… every few days… they saw those men leaving your apartment half-naked…” She trailed off, lowering her head as if she couldn’t bear to continue. “You shameless hussy!” Father roared, his face a mask of rage. Mother clutched her chest, pointing a trembling finger at me. “Anna… tell me it’s not true…” “Anna Ashworth, you are a disgrace!” Simon yelled. “The Ashworth family has no room for someone like you. Get out of this house, now!” I looked at their twisted faces and felt a surge of absurdity. Forget that none of this ever happened. Even if it had, shouldn’t their first reaction as my family be concern that I had been hurt? “Anna, even though… even though you’ve been sleeping around, I believe you can change,” Cecilia pleaded. “If you just admit you were wrong and cut ties with those men… Mom and Dad will forgive you.” I let out a soft laugh, my gaze calm. “I don’t know any thugs. Why would I admit to something I didn’t do?” “Besides… Cecilia, didn’t I just tell you? Lying has consequences.” “Anna, why do you keep saying that?” Cecilia squeezed out a few more tears and pulled out her phone, holding the screen up for everyone to see. “If I’m a liar, then how do you explain… these?” On the screen was a photo of me, dressed provocatively, lounging between several men. As if that wasn’t enough, she swiped to a picture of me holding a baby. My parents’ faces were thunderous. “Those photos are fake,” I said, looking Cecilia in the eye. “And I’ll say it again: lying has consequences.” “I’m not lying! I—” “Fine,” I cut her off calmly. “Just don’t regret it.” With my rebound system, I never lose. She had spoken the words; now she could suffer the consequences. My nonchalance only fueled their rage. “It’s good that you admit it, Anna,” Cecilia said, a triumphant smirk on her face as she pretended to comfort everyone. “Father, Mother, don’t be angry… Anna was just confused for a moment…” Mother hugged her gratefully. “Cecilia, you’re always so understanding.” “You’re not feeling well, so we’ll let you get some rest. If you’re still sick tomorrow, I’ll take you to the doctor.” They left, shooting me looks of pure disgust. I didn’t care. I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. The next morning, I woke up to a piercing scream. “Cecilia! You… what happened to you?!” “Who did this?! Who the hell did this!!” Cecilia’s sobs echoed through the mansion. I stretched and wandered over to enjoy the show. In Cecilia’s room, seven or eight half-naked men were being held down by security guards. She was huddled in the corner of the bed, her eyes swollen, her body covered in red marks, trembling uncontrollably. “You animals! Who gave you the nerve to touch my daughter!” Father kicked the nearest man, his eyes blazing. “Touch her? She was begging for it!” the man shot back with a sleazy grin. “Hey, little vixen, why don’t you explain it to your parents?” “You’re the one who invited us over last night. We’re old friends. Why are you playing innocent now?” He pulled out his phone and shoved the chat history in everyone’s face. “Hey boys, come keep me company tonight.” “I miss you. I’m waiting at home. It’ll be more exciting.” My parents stumbled back as if struck by lightning. Simon stared at the screen, his face a picture of disbelief. “It’s fake! That’s fake!” Cecilia wailed. “I don’t know them! I didn’t send that!” “Why are you lying about me? I don’t even know you…” “Lying? We’re not the ones lying! The chat history is right here!” the man retorted. Cecilia’s face was chalk white. Her lips parted, but no words came out. I leaned against the doorframe, a cold smile on my face. Now she knows what it feels like to be slandered. “It was you!” Cecilia’s head snapped up, her eyes locking on me. “Anna Ashworth! You hired these thugs to ruin me!” I sighed dramatically. “Me again?” “Yes! You!” she screamed, tears streaming down her face. “Anna, what did I ever do to you? Why would you hire these men to hurt me?” “These men… they were your clients!” A cold laugh escaped my lips. “So you’re saying I have an improper relationship with these men?” “Fine, Cecilia. Show me the proof. I’d love to see it.” “I will!” She shot me a venomous look, as if she’d been waiting for this. “You asked for it, Anna!”

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The year my adoptive parents passed away in a car crash. My adoptive older brother, Arthur, sensed my inappropriate, hidden feelings for him and gave me two words: “You disgust me.” Shortly after, our family’s company faced bankruptcy. To secure funding, he shipped me off to the Vance family in a strategic marriage, forcing me to marry their intellectually disabled son, Liam. Three years later, Arthur’s business empire expanded massively. He no longer needed the Vance family’s backing. With a wave of his hand, he orchestrated their downfall and sent Liam’s entire family to federal prison. He stood in front of me and reached out his hand: “Come home with me.” I just shook my head faintly: “You must be joking, Mr. Sterling. My husband’s last name is Vance. The Vance family is my home.” 1 My finger traced the photo in my wallet, as if the person in the picture was still right beside me, as if he had never left. Tears fell drop by drop. I quickly put the wallet away. I couldn’t let the person in the photo see me sad; it would break his heart. A voice next to me interrupted my thoughts at the worst possible moment. “Ms. Sterling, you’ve suffered in the Vance family for three years. Now the dark clouds have finally cleared. Mr. Sterling is already waiting for you. Please, just come with me.” I wiped the tear stains from the corners of my eyes, gave Arthur’s assistant a flat look, and shook my head. “I’m not going anywhere. I want to stay here.” This was the third time the assistant had tried to persuade me, and the third time I had rejected him. Unable to complete his task and knowing he’d have a hard time explaining it to his boss, he was incredibly anxious. “There’s not a single soul left here. It doesn’t make any sense for you to stay.” He was right. There wasn’t a single soul left. Even though just last month, Liam was right here in this garden, wrapping his arms around my waist, begging me to feed him oranges. The Vance family was all here too, sitting around the garden, laughing warmly. The person in my wallet photo was my husband, Liam. When the federal agents arrived and arrested his entire family, Liam was terrified. I had pushed his wheelchair in a panic and managed to help him escape the chaos. But after the dust settled, he went missing in the aftermath. I had no idea where he was, or if he was eating and sleeping well. This single photo carried the entire weight of my worry for him. “I can’t leave. I have to wait for Liam here. What if I leave and he can’t find me?” I turned my head to meet the assistant’s eyes. “Tell Arthur Sterling he doesn’t need to send anyone to pick me up anymore.” The assistant sighed and dialed Arthur’s number. I’ve always known Arthur was busy—either negotiating deals or flying around the country for corporate dinners. Because of that, the assistant had to call practically all night before the line finally connected. The assistant deliberately put the phone on speaker so I could hear. I couldn’t tell exactly what Arthur’s mood was from his voice, but it definitely wasn’t good. “What? Has she been out in the wild so long she’s forgotten where her actual home is?” I didn’t answer, instead looking out the window into the night. Right now, silence spoke louder than words. After a long pause, he issued a command through the phone. “Since she wants to stay there so badly, let her stay there for the rest of her life!” The moment he finished, the line went dead with a rapid beep-beep-beep. He didn’t want to waste a single extra word on me. He was probably even busier now. Busy crushing rival companies and sending anyone who posed a threat to him to prison. Liam was one of those people. Everyone on the news was saying the Vance family committed massive financial crimes, and that they were getting off easy if they didn’t get life sentences. But I knew the Vance family hadn’t done anything wrong. I understood Arthur’s methods too well. When he needs you, he can lower his head and abandon his pride. But once he’s squeezed every drop of use out of you, he’ll turn around and sell you out without a second thought. The night wind was freezing, but every time I thought about Liam wandering the streets out there, I couldn’t bring myself to go inside and sleep. I hadn’t eaten a bite all day. I just sat there in a daze, guarding the photo in my wallet and this empty house. Eventually, I don’t even know how I fell asleep. “Get up! Stop playing dead!” 2 Early the next morning, I was jolted awake by a sharp, piercing female voice. I squinted and saw Chloe Sterling standing in front of me. I had no idea when she arrived. Unlike my pathetic state, she was dressed in high-end designer clothes, wearing bright red lipstick, looking every bit the wealthy socialite. Seeing me slowly sit up, she looked down at me from above, a smirk on her face. “Haven’t seen you in three years, and look at the pathetic state you’re in. If anyone found out you were the adopted daughter of the Sterling family, I’d die of embarrassment.” “Anyway, Arthur specifically sent me to bring you home. If you still remember everything he’s done for you, you’ll hurry up and divorce that retard so you don’t have to live like a widow while he rots in prison.” “I am never getting a divorce.” I looked at her, letting out a cold laugh. “You’re just as mean and bitter as you used to be.” Chloe is my sister. But unlike me and Arthur, she didn’t grow up with us. When she was eight, she was abducted by human traffickers. By the time she was finally found and brought back, our parents had already passed away. Because of that, she lacked the refined elegance typical of old-money socialites. Instead, she carried a thick, street-smart hostility and was always the first to kick someone when they were down. A flash of undetectable anger sparked in her eyes, but she quickly suppressed it. “So what? Do you actually think those words are enough to make me mad?” “Also, don’t think that just because you refuse to get a divorce, Arthur can’t do anything about it. I’ll tell you right now, he predicted you’d act like this. He sent me here not just to persuade you to come home, but to give you something.” A terrible feeling washed over me. I watched her pull a piece of paper from her designer bag and throw it mockingly at my feet. “Forced by your own brother to marry a retard, and now that the retard is in prison, you still want to wait for him.” “Evelyn, you are so incredibly stupid.” I ignored her taunts and quickly unfolded the paper on the ground. With a single glance, it felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over my head, and my ears started ringing violently. The paper in front of me was a finalized divorce decree. I had never signed it, but my signature was right there at the bottom, mimicking my handwriting perfectly. That meant Arthur had forged my signature to finalize this legally binding divorce. He wouldn’t even let me keep the very last tie I had to Liam. “He can’t do this… how could he…” I gripped the paper, shaking uncontrollably. My stomach suddenly churned violently. My vision grew darker and darker. The massive emotional shock, combined with my physical exhaustion, caused me to collapse to the ground. My eyelids grew impossibly heavy… Right before my eyes closed, I saw Chloe panicking. She was terrified that if I died, she’d have a hard time explaining it to Arthur. I don’t know how much time passed, but several paramedics rushed in, and I was loaded into an ambulance. And at that moment, I completely lost consciousness. My surroundings slowly shifted, and I sank into a dream. The dream was very long. In it, I went back to the winter when I was twenty-two. My adoptive parents had just died in a car crash, and the company was facing a catastrophic crisis. Arthur stared at me like I was a piece of merchandise, and then… He used me as a bargaining chip, forcing me to marry Liam—the intellectually disabled son of the Vance family who no one else wanted—in exchange for their financial bailout. At that time, Chloe had just been brought back to the family. When she found out the price for the funding was marrying a disabled man, she screamed and cried like a lunatic, leveraging the twenty years of hardship she had suffered. And Arthur, forced to choose between his biological sister and his adopted sister, naturally chose me. By the time I found out, Arthur had already called my future in-laws to wait at the front door to pick me up. 3 That night, I ran to him, crying. “Arthur, why?! We grew up together! Does all that time mean absolutely nothing to you?!” “You know perfectly well that marrying into that family is throwing me to the wolves! Yet you’re abandoning me just to feed your own ambition! I’m your sister!” He stood in the shadows, his expression unreadable. “Evie, give me some time. When the moment is right, I will absolutely come bring you back.” Right at that moment, Chloe ran out to add fuel to the fire. “Evelyn, our family raised you for so many years. Didn’t you always say you wanted to repay Mom and Dad? Now that you have this perfect opportunity, why are you refusing?” “You’re fighting this so hard… don’t tell me you have a crush on someone?” The moment she said that, I went dead silent. The most humiliating thing in the world is having your deepest, most shameful secret exposed. I instinctively looked at Arthur. When my eyes met his, my face instantly drained of all color. His brow was deeply furrowed. He turned his head away, his expression laced with disgust. “You disgust me.” Seeing his reaction, what else was there to understand? Later, as time ticked away, he literally had his men tie me up, throw me into a car, and force me to get married. As the car window rolled up, the last thing he said to me was: “Evie, once you’re married, there’s no need for you to come back to visit. Mom and Dad only adopted you because they missed Chloe so much. Now that she’s back, it’s time for you to step aside.” His meaning was crystal clear: Don’t ever contact me again. I cried uncontrollably. It turned out he had noticed my teenage crush a long time ago. He despised me, and used this marriage as an excuse to cut all ties with me. I looked straight at him, my heartbreak indescribable. “Then I’ll just assume you’re dead.” And just like that, I married Liam, a handsome man with the mental capacity of a five-year-old. Life after marriage wasn’t nearly as unbearable as I had imagined. In fact, you could even say it was incredibly happy. Even though Liam only had the intellect of a five-year-old, he was kind-hearted, and… he loved me very much. “Pretty lady, are you my wife? Mommy said when you get a wife, you have to protect her! Pretty lady, I’ll protect you forever!” He said this to me with absolute seriousness, and then handed me all of his most treasured candies. In that moment, I felt like a ray of light had pierced through the total darkness of my life. Over the next three years, true to his word, the entire Vance family treated me incredibly well, especially Liam. We watched flowers bloom and the sun rise together. We did so many meaningful things. He never let me suffer a single grievance. He treated me even better than my adoptive parents and the brother who used to dote on me. He would always quietly follow behind me, proudly showing off to everyone that he had a wonderful wife. As time slipped by, moment by moment, I fell for him, sinking deeper and deeper. But Arthur ruined all of it. He clearly had everything he could ever want, but he simply refused to let go of anyone who had ever looked down on him when he was struggling. He completely obliterated my happy life until there was nothing but ash left. So I hated him. And I refused to go back home with him. My brother had already died in my heart three years ago. The dream collapsed the moment Arthur arrived. When I opened my eyes again, I was in a hospital. The person from my dream had crossed over into reality. Arthur was sitting by my bed, his gaze filled with tenderness. I turned my head away, refusing to look at him. He tried to act understanding, but his true goal was still to persuade me. “Evie, since you couldn’t make the decision yourself, I made it for you and divorced that Liam guy. This way, you don’t have to tie yourself to a retard anymore. He’s in prison anyway, so you…” “Arthur Sterling.” I cut him off, speaking every word with burning hatred. “My brother abandoned me three years ago. As far as I’m concerned, I don’t have a brother.” “And my home with you was destroyed a long time ago. The only home I have left, the only one that matters, is the one with my husband.” His expression stiffened, and an inexplicable surge of anger radiated from him. “Evelyn, do you really love that retard so much?!” 4 “Yes, I love him very much,” I answered truthfully. Arthur’s anger intensified, his very breath feeling hot with rage. I instinctively reached for the photo in my wallet. It had become a habit—a way to long for Liam during our brief separation. Arthur caught this tiny detail. He snatched the wallet from my hand, glanced at the photo, his expression cold and his voice dark. “Evie, I truly never imagined you’d fall so deeply in love with him. It seems sending you to him was a mistake.” Saying that, he pulled a lighter from his pocket and, right in front of my eyes, slowly burned the photo to ashes. All the while, he watched me out of the corner of his eye, waiting for my reaction. I had no reaction. It wasn’t that I was okay with him destroying the object of my longing, but I knew that if I showed signs of a breakdown, it would be exactly what Arthur wanted. If Liam were here, he definitely wouldn’t want me getting angry over a photo. After all, he hated seeing me upset more than anything. I closed my eyes, forcing back the sorrow threatening to overflow. When I opened my eyes, the ashes had already scattered in the draft. Seeing me unmoved, Arthur grew even more irritated. He leaned in close and inexplicably dropped a sentence: “Since you like him so much, I’ll take you to see him.” What? He knew where Liam was?! I grabbed Arthur’s arm, my voice furious. “What did you do to him?!” Even though his words made me incredibly anxious, I also felt a surge of heartbreaking sorrow. This meant Liam had actually been captured by him and hidden away. I couldn’t even imagine how much Liam must be suffering right now. Seeing my expression, Arthur remained indifferent. He put a finger to his lips, making a “shh” gesture. Then, he spoke slowly: “So, you better be a good girl. Otherwise, I might not be able to control my men. Right now, without my explicit orders, they’re just keeping an eye on him. But if I’m in a bad mood one day, that retard is going to suffer.” “Arthur, you did this on purpose!” Seeing his smugness, I clenched my hands into fists, wanting nothing more than to tear him into pieces. He simply tilted his head, cracking his knuckles loudly. “Like I said, Evie, you’d better not defy me. Right now, I’m just teaching him a little lesson. But if you remain ungrateful, it won’t be so simple next time.” “I’ll tell you the truth. To climb to where I am now, I’ve lost count of how much blood is on my hands. So, I don’t mind adding one more body to the pile.” “You’re a psychopath!” I screamed at him, completely breaking down. He looked even more pleased with himself, leaving only the instruction to “think about it carefully.” After he left, I completely deflated, collapsing onto the floor, drenched in a cold sweat. After that, I finally agreed to go home. Naturally, I lost my freedom. I was locked in the house, and Arthur ordered several more bodyguards to stand watch outside my door day and night, terrified I might run away. I didn’t fight back. Day and night, I just watched the geese flying by in pairs outside my window, looking so lively and free. Sometimes, Chloe would come looking for a fight, throwing insults at me, but I treated her like she didn’t exist. As for Arthur, whenever he got off work early, he would come back to see me. Just like today. He brought me a skewer of candied hawthorn berries and handed it to me. “Evie, you used to love these the most. Try it, see if it tastes like when we were kids.” I shook my head. I remember the third month after I married into the Vance family. I was still trapped in the agony of being betrayed by my family. Whenever I cried from the pain, there was always a man following behind me. I found him annoying and ignored him, but he didn’t care whether I paid attention to him or not. Every single day, he brought me different sweet treats—sometimes cotton candy, sometimes sugar figures. He told me: “I don’t know why you’re crying, but I asked around, and everyone said Evelyn loves sweet things the most. So I’m giving these to you, hoping they make you happy.” “I don’t understand all that scheming and plotting people talk about, but I know that anyone who bullies my wife is a bad person, and they need to be taught a lesson!” His goofy, silly earnestness finally made me laugh, and I stopped crying. But ever since Liam was taken from me, I lost my taste for sweets. The things Arthur brought couldn’t even compare to a fraction of the sweetness from back then. I don’t know if it was psychological, but I suddenly felt incredibly nauseous. Eventually, I couldn’t control it and threw up all over the floor. Arthur panicked instantly. He called the bodyguards and rushed me to his private clinic. The doctor gave me a quick ultrasound. What he said next shocked everyone in the room. “Mr. Sterling, Ms. Evelyn is pregnant. Looking at the scan, the fetus is about a month old.”

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I think someone has been watching me lately. Every day, a strange, anonymous letter arrives in my mailbox, filled with the sender’s inner thoughts. At first, I thought someone had the wrong address, but things gradually took a sinister turn. The letters started mentioning details of my private life, and this person seemed to know me intimately. It felt as though… they were living in my house with me. 1 “The spicy beef stew you made this weekend looked delicious.” “Were you up late yesterday? Binge-watching a show or something? I saw your lights were on until 1:00 AM. Make sure you take care of your health.” “Haha, with a body as great as yours, it’s a shame to wear those childish kitten panties. This is what suits you best. Wear it for me after your shower tonight, okay?” Along with that letter came a set of sheer, provocative lingerie. I couldn’t take it anymore. Disgusted and terrified, I shredded the lingerie with scissors, threw it in the trash, and decided to quit my job and move. “Mr. Vance, this is my resignation letter. Please take a look,” I said. “What’s wrong?” Arthur Vance asked. He was my boss—young, successful, and someone I could learn a lot from. If it weren’t for this unknown creep stalking me, I would never have given up the opportunity to work at his company. “Um… I’m planning to move back to my hometown,” I lied. I had no intention of telling him the truth; the fewer people who knew, the better. In reality, the stalking had me terrified. This person seemed to know everything. If I made a scene and alerted them, they might become enraged, and my life could be in danger. Slipping away quietly was the best plan. “Alright, but I hope you can give us one week to hand over your projects smoothly.” I naturally agreed. I could use that time to find a new job and a new apartment in a different part of the city. What I didn’t know then was that this final week was about to turn my life upside down. 2 On the first day after I submitted my resignation, Mark Reynolds started acting strange. He was my co-worker, sitting right next to my cubicle, and was universally recognized as the office golden boy—handsome, charismatic, and highly competent. He started chatting with me constantly, almost as if he were trying to fish for information… He also began dropping not-so-subtle hints that he liked me. One day, when no one was looking, he explicitly slid his hand onto my thigh. “What do you think you’re doing?” I asked coldly, immediately rolling my chair far away from him. “Nothing. Maybe it’s because you’re leaving soon, but you look especially captivating today,” Mark smiled, and it made my skin crawl. “Are you out of your mind?” He completely ruined my mood. During lunch, I vented to two female co-workers about it, but they didn’t believe me at all. “What? Chloe, stop making things up. Mark is so nice to everyone, and he’s practically a saint. How could he possibly do that?” They exchanged a look, as if accusing me of trying to take advantage of the office heartthrob. They didn’t even bother to hide the disdain in their eyes. Right, I thought. I’m leaving anyway. There’s no need for them to pretend to be friendly anymore. It was chilling. They nonchalantly changed the subject, chatting away while I sat in silence. I finished my food quickly, made an excuse, and left. I had been at this company for almost a year, and we had always laughed and talked during lunch. I honestly thought we were friends. The very next day, rumors about me and Mark spread like wildfire through the office. They were saying that I was trying to hook up with him before I left. “Hey, did you hear? The real reason Chloe is quitting is because Mark rejected her. She got so mad she started spreading rumors that he touched her thigh!” Who was spreading these lies? When I saw the two girls I had lunch with whispering with a crowd in the breakroom—and noticing how they avoided eye contact with me all day—I knew exactly who it was. Riding on the privilege of his “nice guy” face, Mark grew even more smug. Using a voice only I could hear, he leaned in and said: “Those two girls came running to me yesterday, asking if I touched your thigh. Did you really think I’d admit it? You can see whose words carry more weight around here.” “If you had just been a good girl and let me feel you up, you wouldn’t be dealing with all this trash talk today.” I didn’t speak, nor did I look at him. I just kept a cold face and pounded aggressively on my keyboard. I knew clearly that no matter how angry I was, causing a scene right now was unwise, even though I wasn’t the one who started it. People only hear what they want to hear, and the more scandalous and dirty the gossip, the better. Looks like I’d just have to count the days until Friday. 3 I never expected my reputation to be entirely destroyed in my final week. It felt like everyone’s attitude toward me shifted overnight, all because Mark touched my thigh. On the bright side, the creepy stalker hadn’t sent another letter. I thought with bitter irony, This guy is surprisingly “considerate,” knowing I’m in a bad mood and choosing not to bother me. Fortunately, most of my projects were wrapping up and didn’t require much collaboration. I only needed Mr. Vance’s signature on a few things. He treated me exactly the same as always. When he heard the rumors, he even reprimanded the gossiping employees. “I know you’re not that kind of person,” he told me privately. Those few words moved me so much I almost cried. Because of that moment, a different, special kind of feeling began to bloom in my heart for him. With Arthur’s strict orders, no one dared to gossip openly anymore, though their eyes still darted away when I walked by. I pretended not to notice. Just having some peace and quiet was a blessing. On the fourth day after my resignation, my handover was mostly complete. I had found a new apartment to share with my best friend, Sarah, on the completely opposite side of the city. With thirty minutes left until clock-out, I opened a chat window on my computer to vent to Sarah about the week’s disasters. My neck was feeling stiff, so I stretched a little. As I tilted my head, my peripheral vision caught something that froze my blood. My heart practically stopped. Mark had turned his entire face toward me. His neck was craned forward, and he was staring dead-eyed at my computer screen. His gaze was hollow, completely devoid of focus. What… what the hell is that? Why is he looking like that? Has he always been staring at my screen? Why didn’t I notice before…? I didn’t dare turn my head to look at him directly, nor did I want to meet that dead stare. I pretended I hadn’t noticed, typed a quick, irrelevant message to Sarah, and closed the chat. When I finally gathered the courage to glance at him out of the corner of my eye, he was acting completely normal, as if nothing had happened. For a second, I thought I was just being paranoid and hallucinating. “Chloe, why do you always attract the weirdos? Haha, it’s okay! Once you move in with me this weekend, you won’t have to worry!” Sarah texted my phone. Whether it was a stress-induced hallucination or not, it was better to be safe. Seeing my best friend’s comforting words made me feel a lot better. Just a few more minutes until quitting time. Tomorrow was my last day. I just prayed nothing else would go wrong. 4 I came into the office today to pack up my desk, planning to leave before lunch. I was worried Mark might try something crazy again, but thankfully, he had called in sick. “Chloe, come here for a second,” Arthur called me into his office. “What is it, Mr. Vance?” “I see you only have one bag to take with you. On your way out, could you do me a favor and drop these two boxes in the back storage room? Also… this is a personal gift from me, to thank you for everything you’ve done for the company over the past year.” He pulled out a stunning, clearly expensive necklace. I wanted to decline, but the gift was exactly my style. I always loved wearing necklaces. After a moment of hesitation, I accepted it, planning to buy him a nice dinner and a return gift in the future. Besides, I had my own selfish motives. Maybe… this could lead to something more between us? “Thank you, Arthur. What kind of things do you like? I can’t just take a gift without giving one back.” He smiled and said we could talk about it later. Knowing he didn’t like to dawdle, I didn’t press the issue. I carried the two heavy boxes down the hall to the storage room and set them inside. Just as I was wondering what was so heavy inside them, the storage room door slammed shut behind me. The loud noise made me jump. I turned around and saw someone standing there. “Mark?” 5 “What… what is the meaning of this? What are you trying to do?” I asked, backing up. “I’ve liked you for a really long time. I was planning to reel you in slowly, but I didn’t expect you to leave so soon.” His eyes were bloodshot. He started taking off his jacket as he walked toward me. Seeing him like this, I knew I couldn’t provoke him. “Then… then why didn’t you just ask me out normally? You’re a great guy, I definitely would have given you a chance. Why do this? You’re just scaring me and pushing me away…” I pretended to be incredibly hurt, even squeezing out a few tears. In reality, my peripheral vision was frantically scanning the room for an escape route or a heavy object I could use as a weapon. Seeming to see right through me, Mark sneered maliciously: “Don’t waste your energy. The only way out of here is the door behind me. No one ever comes down to this storage room. Let’s get this over with quickly.” Seeing I wasn’t giving up, he added, “Oh, right, don’t even think about calling the cops. I specifically walked through the camera blind spots to get here. Besides, after the rumors this week, whose side do you think the company is going to take?” I had no other options. I screamed for help at the top of my lungs while backing away, praying someone would hear me. But it was too late! Mark lunged forward, grabbed me, and began violently tearing at my clothes. BANG! The storage room door was kicked open! Before Mark could even react, a fist slammed into his face. The punch was brutal. I couldn’t tell if it was just my imagination, but Arthur seemed to be taking out some serious personal rage. I didn’t overthink it, though. I was saved. I was overjoyed. Arthur stood tall, looking down at Mark groveling on the floor, holding a digital audio recorder in his hand. “Mark, you’re fired. Don’t bother showing up on Monday. Also, the audio from this recorder is going into the company-wide chat right now. Get the hell out of my building.” 6 “Arthur, you…” For a girl fighting to survive alone in a big city, how could my heart not flutter for a man who had protected me twice in a single week? “I was watching you leave from the upper floor and saw Mark hiding in the corner. Putting that together with the rumors he’s been spreading about you, it didn’t take a genius to figure out he was up to no good.” He was watching me leave… Does he pay attention to me in secret too? Thinking about this, my schoolgirl crush was probably written all over my face. I couldn’t stop my lips from curving upward. Arthur laughed. “Alright, stop grinning like an idiot. Since you don’t work here anymore, you don’t have to call me Mr. Vance. Call me Arthur.” I remembered I had lied to him about moving back to my hometown. Seeing how I had kept my guard up against him made me feel guilty. “Um, actually, I didn’t quit because I’m moving back home. I quit because…” “It’s okay, I understand. People who resign always use ‘moving back home’ as an excuse. Let’s go grab lunch.” “But… it’s still working hours.” “I think you forgot something.” “What?” “I own the company!” Arthur laughed brightly. I had only ever seen his serious, professional side. I never realized how charming he was outside of work. I think I was falling in love with him. 7 After that incident, Arthur and I grew close. He naturally confessed his feelings to me, and we started dating. The honeymoon phase lasted for several months, and I moved out of Sarah’s place and into Arthur’s luxury apartment. Lately, however, he seemed incredibly busy. While he was just as gentle and attentive as always, something was clearly distracting him. Whenever I asked, he would just smile and say it was nothing. My intuition told me he was hiding something. While he was in the shower, I secretly opened his phone. I was pinned to the top of his messages. The rest were just standard work chats—nothing suspicious. Just as I was convincing myself I was being paranoid, a text from an unsaved number popped up: Meet me at the old place tonight. My heart dropped. I put the phone back exactly where I found it. After forcing myself to calm down, I decided to follow him. If I caught him cheating red-handed, I’d dump him on the spot. “Chloe, I have to handle an emergency at work. I’ll be sleeping late tonight,” he said, smiling as he patted my head. I was stunned. How could he be so calm right before doing something so slimy? This obviously wasn’t his first time. But I smiled and nodded, wearing my usual pajamas to avoid raising suspicion. The moment the front door closed, I threw on my coat and shoes. I was ready. We lived on the ninth floor. Through the peephole, I saw the elevator pass the seventh floor. I opened the door and bolted down the stairwell. Watching his retreating back from a distance, I had fully prepared myself mentally to beat him and his mistress up, then run out of the hotel crying.

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