Category: English

War broke out in the Republic of Yaran, but my fiancé threw a fit at the airport, refusing to let the evacuation flight take off. All to wait for his precious Jennie, the woman who’d taken advantage of the chaos to go loot a designer makeup counter. The roar of explosions crept closer and closer. With the entire plane in mortal danger, I had no choice but to knock him unconscious and drag him aboard. Back home, far from the war, we lived a quiet, happy life. I thought he had finally forgotten her. But on our wedding day, he tied me up, got in his car, and ran me down. As I lay dying, I heard his venomous laughter. “Lynn, this is all your fault. You killed my Jennie, left her to be blown to pieces by a missile! “She was just a girl who loved beautiful things! What was so wrong with that? “You owe her this. I’m going to make your death a thousand times more gruesome than hers!” When I opened my eyes again, I was back in that moment, with him blocking the jet bridge. This time, I would give him exactly what he wanted. I would let him and his beloved Jennie stay together… forever. 1 “The rebels are almost at the airport! If we don’t take off now, we’ll be trapped!” The sounds of gunfire and explosions were drawing nearer, punctuated by the terrified screams of the crowd. Inside the cabin, people were praying, begging. A few frantic men rushed toward my fiancé, Ethan, trying to reason with him. He kicked them away with a savage boot. He glared at anyone who dared approach. “Jennie is on her way! What’s the big deal about waiting for her?” A man with glasses, clutching his chest where Ethan had kicked him, scrambled back to his feet. “So we can all die with her? Is that the plan?!” he spat, his voice shaking with fury. “The evacuation window is closing! The rebels are coming! How long are we supposed to wait? Don’t you realize we have Dr. Finch on this plane?” He pointed toward a pale, white-haired old man sitting quietly nearby. Dr. Finch was a titan in the medical field, the core of this entire rescue mission. He’d come to Yaran on a humanitarian mission, and if anything happened to him, countless patients back home would lose their only hope. “So what? Your lives matter, but Jennie’s doesn’t?” Ethan shot back, his face a mask of cold fury. “We’re all fellow countrymen. We should stick together.” His words left everyone seething but speechless. My co-pilot, just as furious, turned to me. “Captain Miller, you have to talk to your fiancé! This evacuation involves every citizen in Yaran!” “They’re about to lock down the whole country! This is our only chance out!” “And Dr. Finch’s health can’t take any more risks!” In an instant, every eye in the cabin was on me. I was the captain of this flight, one of the leaders of the evacuation. They were all looking to me to restore order. Ethan’s head snapped toward me, a familiar, predatory glint in his eyes. He was afraid I would give the order to leave Jennie behind. For a split second, I saw a flash of pure murder in his gaze. I took a deep breath and made a decision completely different from my past life. “Ethan is right. We can’t abandon any of our own.” A wave of groans and frustrated hisses swept through the cabin. Ethan, however, visibly relaxed, a triumphant smirk spreading across his face. “Crazy! You’re all fucking crazy!” the man in glasses cursed, struggling to stand up again. Ethan’s expression twisted into a snarl. He lunged forward, decking the man with a single punch, then pulled a heavy hammer from an overhead maintenance locker. As the plane’s mechanic, he knew every inch of this aircraft. He slammed the hammer against the cabin wall for emphasis, his eyes sweeping over the passengers. “Anyone else have something to say? Don’t tempt me.” 2 The cabin fell silent. Only the escalating explosions outside served as a grim reminder of the approaching danger. Ethan scanned the cabin, satisfied by the fear in everyone’s eyes. He shot me a softer, almost gentle look. “Lynn, thank you for standing up for Jennie. I knew my fiancée was the kindest, most reasonable woman in the world.” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “For being so good, I promise, the moment we get home, we’ll get married. From now on, I’ll only ever be good to you.” How familiar that promise sounded. He’d used the exact same words to fool me in our last life. I fought back a wave of nausea and forced a shy nod. He placed a soft kiss on my forehead. I lowered my eyes, hiding the icy contempt within. Outside, the chaos intensified. Plumes of black smoke billowed in the distance, and the silhouettes of rebel armored vehicles were becoming visible. Yet Ethan remained planted at the cabin door, his gaze fixed on the tarmac as if awaiting his messiah. But I knew the truth. Even if Jennie made it, we would never reach home. When he’d struck the wall with that hammer, I’d heard a faint but distinct click from the wing’s assembly. I’d seen a case like it in a maintenance manual once. A screw, loosened by metal fatigue. At thirty thousand feet, the stress would be enough to tear the plane apart. And now, that screw was gone. Even if we took off this very second, this plane wouldn’t survive the climb. The atmosphere in the cabin grew thick with despair. Some passengers wept softly, while others gripped their armrests, their knuckles white. A few younger men glared at Ethan, held back only by the hammer in his hand. “Damn it, we’re all going to die if we keep waiting!” one man finally roared. Ethan sneered, slamming the hammer against the bulkhead again. “Then get off the plane if you don’t want to wait!” Just then, the sharp click-clack of high heels echoed from the tarmac. “Ethan! I’m here!” Jennie ran toward us, her cheeks flushed and her long hair flying behind her. She was laden with bulging designer shopping bags, her lips painted with fresh Chanel lipstick, her makeup as flawless as if she were heading to a gala. Ethan’s face lit up. He dropped the hammer and rushed to her, pulling her into a tight embrace. “Jennie! You made it!” Jennie playfully tapped his chest. “Phew, I almost didn’t! Good thing I’m a fast runner.” She proudly showed off her haul, her eyes scanning the cabin until they landed on me. A provocative smile touched her lips. Ethan followed her gaze. His expression tightened for a moment before softening again. “Lynn, Jennie’s here. We can take off now.” But the man in glasses exploded. “Are you kidding me? What the hell is with all those bags of designer makeup?” he yelled. “You made us risk our lives so she could steal more cosmetics?!” His accusation drew a chorus of angry glares. Ethan snatched the hammer from the floor and pointed it menacingly at him. “Say one more word, and I swear I’ll crack your skull open.” The cabin fell silent again, the only sound the ragged, furious breathing of the man in glasses. Jennie hid behind Ethan, flashing a triumphant smirk at the passengers and deliberately shaking her shopping bags. As they passed me, she leaned in close to Ethan’s chest and whispered, just loud enough for me to hear, “Thanks for waiting for me, Lynn.” I said nothing. I just watched the armed figures sprinting toward us from across the airfield. The moment the cabin door sealed shut, a burst of automatic gunfire erupted outside. “The rebels are here!” someone screamed. 3 A torrent of furious curses exploded through the cabin. “Are you happy now, Ethan?!” the man in glasses roared, pointing at the rebels swarming the runway outside the window. “We’re all going to die here because we had to wait for her!” A mother clutching her child began to sob. “My baby is only three… and for what? So she could loot some makeup…” Jennie’s eyes immediately filled with tears. She shrank into Ethan’s arms, her voice trembling. “It’s not my fault… I was just getting some things to donate to the orphans back home…” Ethan hugged her protectively. “Exactly. Jennie is the kindest person I know. How dare you blame her?” Chaos reigned. Some people were crying hysterically into their hands, others frantically texting loved ones. The shouts of the rebels and the sporadic crack of gunfire were now terrifyingly close. I looked at the panicked faces around me and lowered my voice. “The plane is too big a target. We have to move to the nearby bomb shelter.” The man in glasses asked desperately, “But how do we get out there? It’s swarming with rebels!” I pointed to the maintenance access hatch below the main ramp. “This leads directly to a service tunnel. It’s our way to the shelter.” I quickly unlatched the hatch. “Everyone, follow me. And stay quiet.” The passengers scrambled out, one by one. Only Jennie remained, looking at the dark opening with disgust. “It’s so dirty down there… My new dress…” Ethan immediately soothed her. “Don’t worry, Jennie. I’ll carry you.” I gave the pair a cold look before turning and leading the others into the tunnel. Behind me, I heard Dr. Finch’s weak cough. “Lynn, my old bones might not make it…” “Don’t worry, Doctor,” I said, helping him steady himself. “Your research is vital to our country. I will get you home safely.” The tunnel was damp and dark, the distant shouts of rebels echoing ominously. We moved in silence, holding our breath, until we finally reached the bomb shelter. “Wait here,” I whispered. “I’ve already contacted the military. They’ll be here within two hours.” A collective sigh of relief filled the room as people found places to sit. But just then, a thick, cloying cloud of perfume filled the enclosed space. “What’s that smell?” the man in glasses asked, his head snapping up. Jennie was spritzing herself liberally with a bottle of Chanel No. 5. “It stinks in here,” she whined. “What’s wrong with a little perfume?” Suddenly, Dr. Finch began to cough violently, his face turning deathly pale. “Stop… please, stop… I’m allergic…” I lunged forward and snatched the bottle from her, but it was too late. Dr. Finch was struggling to breathe, his lips already turning blue. “You idiot!” the man in glasses screamed. “If anything happens to Dr. Finch, you’ll be a traitor to the nation!” 4 Jennie cowered behind Ethan. “I didn’t know… Why is everyone always picking on me?” Ethan shielded her, roaring at the others, “She didn’t do it on purpose! Why are you all bullying her like this?” He ignored the crowd’s fury and guided Jennie to a corner. I had no time for them. I ordered everyone to help me search for allergy medication for the doctor. Just as I found the auto-injector in the first-aid kit and was about to hand it to Dr. Finch, I heard Jennie’s delicate voice. “Achoo… Ethan, I think… I think I’m having an allergic reaction too.” My head whipped around. Jennie was clutching her chest, her face pale, leaning against Ethan as if she were about to faint. “Jennie! What’s wrong?” Ethan cried, catching her in his arms. He turned and yelled at me, “Get the medicine over here! Jennie can’t breathe!” Dr. Finch was now on the verge of collapse, his fingers clawing at his chest. “No!” I refused sharply, moving toward the doctor. “This is Dr. Finch’s life-saving medication!” But Ethan lunged, snatching the injector from my hand. The force of his shove sent me staggering back against the wall. I stared at him in disbelief. “He’s going into anaphylactic shock! You know he’s the primary objective of this evacuation!” Ethan hesitated for a fraction of a second, then shoved the injector into Jennie’s hand. “He’s an old man, he was going to die soon anyway,” he sneered. “Is his life more precious than Jennie’s?” The shelter erupted in shocked gasps. The man in glasses was the first to react. “Ethan! Dr. Finch is a national treasure! You’re sacrificing him for some makeup-stealing whore—” “Shut up!” Ethan swung the hammer, knocking the man to the ground. He glared at the horrified onlookers. “Anyone else comes near, and I’ll kill them!” Leaning weakly against the wall, Jennie shot me a triumphant smirk. She took the injector and, with Ethan holding a water bottle for her, calmly administered the dose. By now, Dr. Finch had collapsed, his face a ghastly shade of purple, a terrible wheezing sound rattling in his throat. The man in glasses scrambled to his side, shouting at me, “Captain! Do something!” I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. It was just like my past life. Ethan always put Jennie first, no matter who else had to die. My phone vibrated softly in my pocket. I glanced at the screen, and the tension in my face eased slightly. I leaned toward the man in glasses and whispered, “Don’t worry. Help is on the way.” The very first thing I did after being reborn was send an emergency distress signal to the military. As if on cue, the sound of heavy footsteps and metallic clanking echoed from outside the shelter door. “It’s the army!” the man in glasses exclaimed, scrambling to his feet. “We’re saved!” Blinding beams of light cut through the darkness as fully armed special forces soldiers secured the entrance. The lead officer removed his night-vision goggles, his sharp eyes scanning the room. “Where is Dr. Finch? My orders are to prioritize his evacuation.” Every head turned toward the corner where the old man lay, barely breathing. The officer’s face contorted in fury. He was at Dr. Finch’s side in an instant. “Doctor!” he roared, his voice echoing in the silent shelter. “Who did this?!”

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On my first day of school, I accidentally crossed the Queen Bee of the sophomore class. She threatened to sick her “bad boy” boyfriend on me. Sure enough, the school’s notorious delinquent strutted over with a walk that screamed “I own this place.” But when he saw me, he froze and shouted in disbelief: “Sis?” I smirked coldly and proceeded to give him a lesson filled with “love and care.” The Queen Bee watched, trembling, and stuttered: “Sis, since you hit him, you can’t hit me too, right?” 1 “Which class are you in?” The girl blocking my path wasn’t wearing her uniform properly. She had streaks of red dyed into her hair and radiated “Queen Bee” energy. Her tone was arrogant. “Do you know who I am?” I shook my head honestly. “You don’t know who I am, and you dare block me? Haven’t you heard of Bella from the high school division?” I shook my head again. “I’m new.” “Oh, a transfer student,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Then my skipping class is none of your business. Get lost, or I’ll make you regret it!” Five minutes ago, I was walking by the school fence when I saw a student trying to climb over. I called her down. “According to school rules, truancy is prohibited,” I said calmly. “I suggest you go back to your classroom.” Bella, as she called herself, sneered at me. “Fine, want to play hero? You might not know me, but you’ve heard of my boyfriend, right? Carter. He’s famous even outside of school. Want me to call him over to deal with you?” Boyfriend. Puppy love? I crossed my arms. “Go ahead. Call him.” Provoked by the challenge in my eyes, she pulled out her phone and dialed. “Babe…” I didn’t hear what was said on the other end, but she hung up quickly, looking even more smug. “You just wait!” I checked the time. I could wait. A few minutes later, a group of boys marched aggressively toward us. I squinted. The leader wasn’t wearing a uniform, and his build looked familiar. Bella sneered. “It’s not too late to apologize. My boyfriend isn’t as nice as I am.” “Really?” I replied coolly. “I’d love to see how ‘not nice’ he is.” As the group got closer, I finally saw the leader’s face clearly. The corner of my mouth twitched uncontrollably. The leader, oozing “Big Brother” energy, strutted toward his girlfriend without glancing at anyone else. He barked dominantly, “You okay? Who’s the blind idiot messing with my girl at North High…” He looked up at the “blind idiot”—me. His voice cracked mid-sentence. “Sis?” That single syllable stunned his entire entourage. I smiled—a smile that promised pain. “Carter, you’ve really made something of yourself. Boss of the school now, huh?” The school bully took a sharp step back. Too late. I threw the uniform jacket I’d brought for him right into his face. In two steps, I grabbed his ear and slapped his forehead. Not hard enough to cause brain damage, but enough to rattle his brain cells. “Who taught you to act like a king at school?” “Carter? Bullying classmates now, are we?” “And ‘your girl’? Not even eighteen and playing house? I ought to beat you…” “…” I gave Carter a thorough education filled with “love and care.” He scurried around like a rat, covering his head. “Sis! Sis! It’s school! Give me some face!” 2 As the eldest child, I have a natural bloodline suppression over Carter. When he was a toddler causing trouble, my parents were too soft to discipline him. I wasn’t. Won’t eat dinner? Smack. Disrespecting Mom and Dad? Smack. Stealing my stuff? Smack. Causing trouble outside? Smack. Addicted to video games? Smack. My parents realized my “gentle taps” were effective and let me handle it. I molded him into a good kid. Carter has always been simple-minded and not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed. A beating followed by a piece of candy usually set him straight. He holds no grudges as long as he gets fed. Such a good kid. How did he turn into this? Carter couldn’t escape. Since I realized my little brother would eventually outgrow me, I started taking martial arts classes. Cornered, he looked to his minions and girlfriend for help. However, the girl who was just playing the tough Queen Bee now had eyes clear of any rebellion. I looked at Carter’s little girlfriend. She shuddered visibly. “Sis,” she stammered, “since you hit him, you can’t hit me too, right?” “…” The warning bell rang, saving Carter’s life. He screamed, “Sis! Class is starting! I need to go to class!” The desperation in his voice suggested a newfound, intense passion for education. I smiled gently. “Didn’t you want to skip class just now?” From Bella’s phone call, I knew they were planning to skip together. “No, no! Sis, I’m going back to class!” I let him go and nodded. “Fine. Go back to class, all of you.” Carter and the others looked like they’d been granted amnesty and sprinted toward the academic building. However, after a few steps, they realized I was following them. “Sis, why are you following us?” Carter whispered. “I promise I’m going back to class.” I smiled. “It’s fine. It’s on my way. I’ll walk you to your classroom.” Carter didn’t think too deeply about my words. He just muttered for me to go home. I hadn’t been home in a while, so Carter clearly didn’t care enough about his sister’s life updates. He probably thought Mom sent me just to deliver his jacket. The group of students, who looked like a teacher’s nightmare, walked ahead like obedient little ducklings. Finally, under my gaze, they walked into the classroom marked Sophomore Class 9. The bell had rung, but the room was chaotic because the teacher hadn’t arrived yet. I raised an eyebrow at the sign on the doorframe. “Sis, I’m here. You can go back now,” my dear brother whispered, eager to escape my clutches. I tilted my chin. “You go in first.” Carter went in. I waited outside for another ten seconds, then, under the gaze of everyone, walked into the noisy classroom. And stepped onto the podium. The class went quiet for a second. The students who had just seen me outside stared with wide eyes. “Hello everyone, let me introduce myself,” I said, my voice steady and projecting without a microphone. “I am your homeroom teacher for this year, Ms. Shen. I’ll also be teaching you Physics. Nice to meet you all.” As my words fell, I met the despairing eyes of my brother and his little girlfriend. 3 I am nine years older than Carter. Because of the bloodline suppression, when I went to college, my third-grade brother was still a well-behaved baby in my eyes. After I graduated and went to grad school, I visited home less. Carter finished elementary school and started middle school. I heard my parents complain about his rebellious phase over the phone. I thought it was just normal teenage angst. Who knew I’d come back to find a full-blown delinquent? Where did my sweet, soft cupcake of a brother go? The first period was basically homeroom. I got to know everyone’s names. To them, I was just reading a list. When the bell rang, I walked slowly to Carter and Bella’s desks. Bella, the girl I stopped from climbing the wall, and my brother’s puppy love interest. They sat across the aisle from each other. I tapped their desks. “Phones. Out.” North High rules: No electronics on campus without special permission. They both looked devastated as they pulled their phones from their desks. “Come to my office during the long break.” The next period was also mine. Physics. It had been a while since I taught basic physics. Class 9 wasn’t the top tier, nor the bottom. Just average. The first lesson was foundational and simple. Most of them listened, especially my brother, who was terrified I’d catch him spacing out. After class, I went straight to the office with the confiscated phones. When the long break finally arrived, Carter and Bella appeared at the office door, dragging their feet. “Sis, why are you teaching at our school? Why didn’t I know?” Carter finally burst out. Of course he didn’t know. I only told our parents I was moving back to town. Last night when I visited, I mentioned getting a job at my alma mater, but Carter was gaming with headphones on. This morning, Mom noticed he left without his jacket and asked me to bring it. She didn’t mention his class, just told me to text him. I kept my face neutral. “Call me Ms. Shen at school.” “Oh. Ms. Shen.” Carter hung his head obediently. “Truancy, dating, phones, forming cliques…” I listed their crimes, then looked at my brother. “Carter, what else don’t I know?” “And you, Bella. You two are a pair. You think Carter is reliable? At your age, you should be focused on grades and dreams, not romance and gang loyalty.” My brother: “…” “Sis… Teacher, I was wrong. Please let us off this once. I promise it won’t happen again.” Carter tugged at my sleeve, begging quietly. I’ve only been working for two years and haven’t dealt with students like this much, but I know a student’s promise is worth less than sand in the wind. “I’m calling your parents tonight.” Both of their faces changed. “Teacher, aren’t you… my parent?” 4 I didn’t look up. “Call your Mom and Dad.” “Bella, is the contact in your file your father or mother?” I asked the silent girl. She didn’t look as arrogant as this morning, but there was still a stubborn set to her jaw. “It’s my dad’s secretary.” I didn’t overthink it. “Give me your father or mother’s direct number. I’ll talk to them.” She went silent. Cosplaying a mute. “…” I rubbed my temples. I knew I wasn’t cut out to be a homeroom teacher. Carter whispered helpfully, “Teacher, Bella’s mom died two years ago. Her dad remarried and ignores her now.” I paused. Family issues weren’t something a teacher could solve easily. “Bella, give me your father’s number first.” As a homeroom teacher, I had to try communicating. She finally spoke. “I don’t have it. We fought, I blocked him, didn’t memorize it.” “…” Compared to my brother, the prick, this girl had way more issues to unpack. A twenty-minute break wasn’t enough to solve this. I sent them back to class. I tried contacting the secretary Bella mentioned. The secretary politely informed me that Mr. Cheng was in a meeting and would get back to me. I waited two hours. The secretary called back, saying Mr. Cheng didn’t have time to come to the school, but provided his direct line. I called. A middle-aged man answered, sounding annoyed. “What trouble did that ungrateful girl cause now?” “Not trouble exactly. If you’re free, could you come to the school? I’d like to discuss Bella’s situation.” Before I finished, a baby started crying in the background. A woman’s voice cooed, “Honey, the baby is crying again, is he sick…” Chaos ensued on the other end. Then the man said, “If she caused trouble, punish her according to school rules. I don’t have time for her.” Click. He hung up. “…” I regretted taking this job. I grabbed my textbook and headed to another building. There were only about twenty students in the room. I stood at the podium. “Welcome, freshmen, to the Physics Olympiad Class.” Physics Olympiad Coach. That was my real job. A few days before school started, the original homeroom teacher for Class 9 (who also taught physics) had a medical emergency regarding her pregnancy. She took a long leave. The school scrambled to find a replacement. Her other class was covered by a senior teacher, but Class 9 was left hanging. The administration asked if I could cover it. Since the freshmen Olympiad team wasn’t competing this year, I had the time, so I took it. I didn’t know Carter was in that class. Looking at the fresh faces in the Olympiad class, I felt nostalgic. Ten years ago, I was sitting there, listening to my coach ramble. Throughout the year, some would drop out, some would join. The road to the Olympiad is long and hard.

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During our summer vacation, my little sister sneaked into a beat-up cargo van. I pretended I didn’t see a thing and turned my back. In my past life, I stopped her. And for that, she hated me for decades. On my daughter’s first birthday, she laced her formula with a lethal dose of rat poison. Watching my baby cough up blood, she laughed like a maniac. “Remember this? You caused this!” she screamed. “You ruined my life, so I’m going to make sure you suffer for the rest of yours!” “Why did you stop me from getting in that van?!” I tried to fight her, but she stabbed me until I was paralyzed. I spent years rotting in a hospital bed, a vegetable, until I finally flatlined. When I opened my eyes again, I was back there. The parking lot. The heat. And my sister, sneaking toward the van. 1 I opened my eyes and stared right at Chloe’s back as she nervously looked around. I squinted, a tidal wave of hatred crashing over me. A black panel van rolled up to the curb. She knocked on the door three times—a signal. Two men slid the door open and yanked her inside. In my last life, I thought she was being kidnapped. I screamed, rallied a crowd, and dragged her back from the edge of hell. I was too frantic back then to notice the look on her face. It wasn’t fear. It was annoyance. Chloe hated me for forty years. Not only did she murder my daughter, but she also spent years poisoning my food, wrecking my body before she finally put me in that coma. While I lay paralyzed, she would come to my bedside daily to curse me out. She’d brag about her wealthy husband, her perfect life, her adorable daughter. Every year, she’d bring her kid to celebrate her birthday right in front of my dying body. Five years of torture later, I died of sheer rage. It wasn’t until the bitter end that I realized why Chloe was so desperate to get in that van. It was her “Main Character Ascension Plan.” Since she was a toddler, Chloe believed she was special. The “Chosen One.” She was convinced she didn’t belong in our middle-class family, that she was a lost princess switched at birth. As she grew older and started looking exactly like Dad, she had to accept biology. But she hatched a new plan. If you’re born in the wrong house, you can just switch houses, right? The men in the van were traffickers. Chloe had contacted them herself. She volunteered to be kidnapped. Her only condition? “Sell me to a billionaire’s family.” The traffickers, obviously, said yes. Today was the execution day. In her twisted mind, I destroyed her destiny. I blocked her path to becoming a heiress. Watching the taillights of the van fade into the distance, I smirked and melted back into the crowd of tourists. This time, sister dear, go chase the life you think you deserve. I can’t wait to see where they actually take you. 2 Ten minutes later, Chloe still hadn’t come back from the “bathroom.” Mom and Dad started getting antsy. They checked the restrooms. Empty. Their faces went pale. Twenty minutes later, we’d scoured the entire tourist trap. No Chloe. Mom nearly fainted. Dad called the cops. Thirty years ago, security cameras were trash. They only saw Chloe walk toward the bathrooms and never come out. Only I knew she’d climbed out the bathroom window, circled back to the blind spot by the service exit, and hopped into the van. We searched until sunset. Nothing. Mom passed out twice. Dad chain-smoked a whole pack, his hands shaking. “It’s my fault! Why didn’t I watch her?!” Dad sobbed, face buried in his hands. “Summer, Daddy lost your sister.” We stayed in that town for half a month. My parents were eating themselves alive with guilt. They both ended up hospitalized from stress. I watched them wither away and broke into a cold sweat. This wasn’t part of the plan. I couldn’t let that monster ruin us from afar. That night, I walked up to my parents’ hospital beds, tears streaming down my face. “Mom, Dad…” I choked out. Mom pulled me into a hug, wiping my tears. “Baby, do you miss Chloe? Are you blaming Mommy for losing her?” I shook my head violently and buried my face in her chest. “I lost my sister. I can’t lose you guys too.” “I’m so scared. Please don’t leave me alone. Mom, Dad, you have to get better!” It was like a bucket of ice water hit them. They realized they didn’t just have Chloe. They still had me, their eight-year-old daughter who needed them. The next day, they pulled themselves together. Three days later, we went home. They stopped blaming themselves in front of me. To make up for the loss, they poured double the love into me. Dad threw himself into his work to distract from the pain. He caught the wave of the tech boom. His small factory became a massive corporation. We moved from a cramped apartment to a sprawling estate in the hills. I became the sole heiress of the Joestar family. I was thirteen. Lying in my king-sized bed, I laughed out loud. I wondered what kind of “billionaire life” Chloe was living. If she knew we were filthy rich now, what kind of face would she make? The family she tried to escape was the very “wealthy dynasty” she dreamed of. In the last life, because she came back, my parents stayed middle-class workers. We lived ordinary lives. I smoothed the silk of my designer dress. Turns out, Chloe was the curse on this family. Without her, we soared. Because of how weak I was in my last life, I started training. Kickboxing, swimming, Pilates. I studied nutrition and medicine. I also hit the books hard. My parents, seeing me work so hard, were heartbroken. “Summer, we have enough money. You don’t need to push yourself. We just want you happy.” I flashed a sharp, toothy grin. “Mom, I am happy.” 3 Dad never stopped looking for Chloe, even while building his empire. He spent a fortune on missing person ads and offered a massive bounty. $5,000 for a lead. $2 million for finding her. Scammers lined up around the block. Dad didn’t care. He was practically giving money away, earning the nickname “The ATM.” Two years passed. Nothing. Mom was getting frustrated. “It’s all fake! Just people trying to swindle us!” Just as they were about to give up, a bald man showed up. I recognized him instantly. He was the driver of the van. Ten years hadn’t changed his sketchy, rat-like face. He licked his lips. “Mr. Joestar, I think I know where your girl is.” Dad waved him on. He’d heard it all before. “I saw a girl looking like her in B-City. But she was taken so young, I ain’t sure.” “I can go check. If I find her, I’ll let you know. But about the cash…” Dad sighed, barely listening. “Like I said. You find her, you get the two million.” Baldy rubbed his hands together, took the five grand “finder’s fee,” and left. My parents didn’t have much hope. B-City was 2,000 miles away. But I knew. Baldy wasn’t lying. He knew exactly where she was because he sold her there. But did he think he was getting that two million? In his dreams. I hired a private investigator immediately. “Find a girl named Chloe in B-City. You have one week.” Three days later, I got the photos. I laughed until my sides hurt. Oh, Chloe. Is this the high life you sold your soul for? 4 In the photos, Chloe was scrubbing toilets in a greasy diner, wearing rags. In another, she was sitting at a dinner table, eating watery porridge while a little boy across from her devoured a whole roast chicken. The PI told me the details: The couple who bought her couldn’t conceive. They wanted a son but couldn’t afford one, so they bought a girl cheap. Two years later, they miraculously had a biological son. Chloe became the live-in maid. She dropped out of school years ago. The “parents”—the Millers—forced her to work. Then the PI hesitated. “Miss Summer, there’s… something else.” “Spit it out.” “The second daughter… she has a boyfriend.” A boyfriend? Normal for an 18-year-old. But then I saw the photo. It was a wrinkly, toothless man in his sixties. The PI explained they often hooked up in the back of the diner after hours. The old guy, Gary, had a bit of money and bought her things. I paid the PI double to keep his mouth shut. Baldy was already on his way to B-City. The reunion was inevitable. That night, I put in eye drops to make my eyes red and puffy. Mom saw me and panicked. “Summer! Baby, who hurt you?” I bit my lip and slid the photos across the marble table. “Mom, Dad… I found her. I found Chloe. She’s… she’s suffering so much.” I withheld the photos of her and Old Man Gary. My parents took one look at Chloe scrubbing toilets and broke down. Mom wailed. “It’s our fault! We failed her!” They decided to drive to B-City immediately. As I stood up, I “accidentally” knocked the photo of Chloe and Gary onto the floor. “Oh no!” I scrambled to grab it, making sure they saw it clearly. “Mom, Dad, wait—Chloe must have a reason! Life is hard, maybe she had no choice!” My dad’s face turned purple. In the photo, Chloe was hanging off the old man, laughing with genuine delight. Mom pursed her lips. I hid the photo behind my back. “Don’t judge her! Maybe… maybe he’s a nice grandpa figure?” Dad slammed his chopsticks down. “We leave at dawn!” The guilt was still there, but now, it was mixed with shame. I went back to my room and smirked at the photo. Showtime.

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A year after my breakup with Nathan, we ran into each other at a maternity shop. He was standing in the formula aisle. When he looked up and saw me, a flash of panic crossed his eyes. “I’m buying formula for my son,” he said, his voice a little strained. “He’s six months old.” “Congratulations,” I replied softly. He seemed taken aback. “You don’t hate me?” How could I not? But in that moment, as I felt the flutter of life in my own womb, the absurdity of my past self became painfully clear. A year ago, he had left me for another woman’s pregnancy test, and I had pathetically prayed that I, too, could get pregnant just to keep him. All that soul-crushing desperation, the feeling that he was the only one for me, now seemed like nothing more than a self-indulgent obsession. “It’s all in the past.” 01 After I spoke, I turned to leave. His hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. “Thea, wait…” I glanced down at his hand, then gently pulled mine free. “Is there something you need?” “It’s been a long time. Do you want to grab a coffee?” He pointed to the corner café just outside the shop, his tone tentative. “It’s right there. Still the same one you used to love.” He remembered. I could spend an entire afternoon sipping cappuccinos at that café, watching the shadows of the sycamore trees from the window seat. We had spent countless weekends there—me reading, him working, occasionally looking up to share a smile that would last for ages. But that was a long time ago. So long it felt like another lifetime. “No, thank you.” I said it quietly and turned toward the checkout counter. Nathan quickly fell into step beside me, a note of urgency in his voice. “Thea, you’re still mad at me, aren’t you?” “No.” He stopped. “Then why…” “There’s just no need.” I cut him off, enunciating each word with calm precision. “Nathan, there’s nothing left for us to say.” His expression shifted, his lips parting as if to argue, but I didn’t give him the chance. I walked past him to the register. The cashier smiled as she took my basket and began scanning the items with practiced efficiency. Prenatal vitamins, maternity formula… Nathan stood a short distance away, his gaze fixed on the pregnancy products piling up on the counter, his brow furrowing deeper with each item. By the time I left the shop, the sky had darkened. The clouds hung low and heavy, the air thick with the oppressive heat that comes before a storm. I pulled out my phone to call a car, but the screen lit up before I could. “Honey, it’s about to rain. Where are you? I’ll come get you.” His voice was full of warmth and concern, an undisguised affection that made the corners of my mouth lift into a smile. “I’m at the maternity shop on South Street.” “Stay put. Don’t wander off. I’ll be there in five.” “Okay.” Just as I hung up, a black Mercedes pulled up to the curb. Nathan got out and walked over to me. “Let me give you a ride.” I shook my head. “That’s okay. My husband is coming to pick me up.” The moment the word “husband” left my lips, Nathan’s pupils contracted. He stared at me for a few seconds before forcing a complicated smile. “You’re still trying to get back at me.” His voice was filled with absolute certainty. He thought I was using a fictional “husband” to make him jealous. He thought I couldn’t let him go. He thought… I didn’t bother to explain. I just looked at him calmly. “You’re overthinking it, Nathan.” He acted as if he hadn’t heard me, continuing his own monologue. “Thea, there shouldn’t be this much distance between us.” Distance? I almost laughed out loud. Who was it that threw a fake marriage certificate in my face and told me coldly, “We were never legally married”? Who was it that signed the papers to have me committed to a psychiatric hospital when I was at my breaking point? And who was it that, when I needed him most, chose Ava and the child in her womb? And now he was saying there shouldn’t be distance? “Nathan.” I looked at him, my voice soft but every word sharp. “Do you know what creates distance?” He stared at me, confused. “Distance is for people who still have feelings left to protect.” I offered a small, empty smile. “But between you and me, there are no feelings left.” “So it isn’t about distance, and it isn’t about forgiveness.” “We’re just strangers.” 02 A year ago, I cut a business trip short to surprise Nathan. Instead, I walked into a scene that would haunt my nightmares. In the living room, Nathan’s hand rested gently on the swollen belly of another woman. It was Ava. My sister. Both sets of our parents were there. “Ava is already five months along,” Nathan’s mother said, her tone laced with reproach. “When are you going to give her and the baby the legitimacy they deserve?” Ava quickly shook her head, her eyes welling with tears. “Please, Mrs. Cole, don’t pressure Nate…” She bit her lip, her voice catching in a sob. “I just wanted to give him a child. He still loves Thea the most.” Nathan’s mother sighed, patting her hand. “You’re too kind, dear.” My own mother echoed the sigh. “But a child needs a proper name, a proper family.” She looked at Nathan’s father. “What do you think we should do?” He was silent for a moment before turning to Nathan. “What are your plans for Thea?” I held my breath, waiting for his answer. “We’ll keep it from her for now.” “We’ll tell her after the baby is born.” In that instant, the keys slipped from my hand and clattered onto the floor. Every head in the room snapped toward the doorway. Toward me. The color drained from Nathan’s face. “Thea? What are you… You weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow.” Ava stood up, starting toward me. “Sister, let me explain…” “Explain what?” My eyes were glued to her stomach, the prominent, taunting curve of it. “Explain that you’re carrying his child?” Tears streamed down Ava’s face. “Sister, I’m so sorry, I never wanted this, but…” I walked over to her and slapped her, hard. The sound echoed in the silent room. Ava cupped her cheek, her eyes wide with disbelief. Nathan’s mother shot to her feet, shielding Ava. “Thea! Have you lost your mind?” “She’s pregnant! What if you hurt the baby?” I started to laugh. A broken, hysterical laugh that brought tears to my eyes. “I’ve lost my mind?” I pointed at myself, then at them. “Yes, I must be crazy to have let all of you fool me for so long!” Nathan reached for me. “Thea, calm down, let me explain…” “Don’t touch me!” I shoved his hand away with a strength that surprised even me. “Nathan, what right do you have to touch me?” He froze, his hand suspended in mid-air. I looked at him, the tears finally breaking free. “How long were you going to hide it? Until she gave birth? Until the baby had his name on the birth certificate?” Nathan’s lips moved, but no words came out. His mother stepped forward, her face a mask of disapproval. “Thea, have you made enough of a scene?” “You can’t have children. Is the Cole family line supposed to end with you?” “Ava was kind enough to help you, and this is how you repay her?” But I was the one who couldn’t have children because I had saved his life. 03 The day Nathan got his driver’s license, he was as giddy as a child. “Thea, I’m taking you for a drive!” He grabbed my hand, his eyes shining with excitement. I laughed and agreed. The entire drive, he talked about our future. Then, a truck lost control and came hurtling toward us. It was loaded with steel rebar. I saw it getting closer and closer. There was no time to think. On pure instinct, I unbuckled my seatbelt and threw myself in front of Nathan, shielding him with my body. The rebar pierced through me. Pain. So much pain I couldn’t even breathe. Nathan’s face was covered in blood. My blood. His mouth was moving, shouting something, but I couldn’t hear him. I could only see his tears, falling one by one. All I could think was, Thank god. Thank god Nathan is okay. The surgery was a success. But the doctor’s face was grim as he looked at my chart. “Her uterus is severely damaged. The chances of a natural conception are less than five percent.” In that moment, I saw the expression on his mother’s face change. She quickly pulled Nathan out of the room. Lying in my hospital bed, I could hear their argument in the hallway. “What are we going to do…” “The Cole family can’t be without an heir…” His father’s voice was calm. “Ava is the family’s biological daughter. She and Nathan are a much better match, really.” “Enough!” Nathan’s voice cut them off. He burst back into the room and came to my bedside, taking my hand. “I told you, I’m only marrying Thea.” His hand was warm, almost feverish, his eyes red-rimmed. His mother followed him in. “Nathan! You can’t…” He cut her off, his voice resolute. “Mom, Thea took that hit for me.” “Without her, I’d be the one lying in this bed.” “I won’t marry anyone else.” He looked at me, his eyes full of conviction. “Thea, as soon as you’re better, we’ll get married, okay?” I nodded, tears streaming down my face. Back then, I thought he truly loved me. I didn’t know it was all just part of a long deception. I should have seen the signs. The day I was discharged from the hospital, Ava moved into their house under the pretext of taking care of me. She learned to cook Nathan’s favorite dishes better than I could. She learned to brew his father’s favorite tea more skillfully than I could. She even learned to play mahjong with his mother, a game I didn’t even know the rules to. His mother was always praising her. “Ava is such a wonderful girl.” And my own parents would always say, “Thank goodness we found Ava again. What would this family do without her?” In that house, I was the outsider. 04 My eyes were red as I screamed, my voice raw. “I will never acknowledge that child!” “I will make sure that child is forever known as a bastard!” Nathan stood there, his eyes fixed on me. “Thea, he’s not a bastard.” I froze. “What do you mean?” “We have a marriage certificate. Ava is the mistress, which makes the child a bastard…” “The ceremony three years ago was a sham,” Nathan interrupted. “The officiant was an actor I hired.” “Our marriage certificate… it’s fake.” My mind went blank. The photos, the official-looking seal, the signatures… All fake? “That’s impossible.” I whispered, “We were… we…” Nathan looked at me, his expression unreadable. “You won’t find our names in any official registry.” His mother approached, her voice dripping with false sympathy. “Thea, don’t blame us.” “This is for the good of both families.” “Look, now Ava is having a baby. The Cole family has an heir. Isn’t that wonderful?” Ava hid behind Nathan, whispering, “Sister, I know you’re hurting.” “But Nate needs a child.” “I didn’t have a choice.” As she spoke, fresh tears rolled down her cheeks, making her look like the victim whose happiness I was trying to destroy. My parents stood to the side, silent. I could see a flicker of guilt in their eyes. But in the end, they chose silence. Because Ava was their biological daughter. And I was just the one they had adopted. “Fake.” I mumbled the word, my voice growing louder. “It was all fake, all of it…” Nathan reached out to steady me, and I shrieked. “Don’t touch me!” Like a madwoman, I started grabbing anything I could find and hurling it at him. Vases, picture frames, teacups… Anything within reach became a projectile. Ava cowered behind him, watching me with terror in her eyes. His mother frowned in disgust. “Has she gone completely insane?” Insane? Maybe. Maybe I really was insane. How else could I have been foolish enough to believe him for three years? How else could I have believed I actually had a family? Nathan lunged forward and wrapped his arms around me. The next day, I was admitted to Spring Mountain Psychiatric Hospital. At first, he would visit. Then, his visits became less and less frequent. During that time, I even started to hallucinate. I kept thinking I had a child. Maybe if I had a child, I could pathetically hold on to Nathan. My phone buzzed, pulling me from the memory. A message from my doctor with my latest ultrasound report. 8 weeks gestation, fetal development is normal. I smiled and saved the report. It reminded me of how I once carefully saved a marriage certificate. A certificate that turned out to be a lie. But this report was real. My marriage is real. And the baby in my womb is real. The doctor’s “less than 5% chance” had become a reality. It wasn’t a miracle. It was Wyatt. He found the best traditional medicine specialists in the country, and for a year, they painstakingly helped me heal. It was Wyatt who spent a whole year convincing me that I could still have a complete life. “Thea.” Nathan opened his mouth, but before he could speak, a black Maybach glided to a stop beside us. The door opened, and Wyatt stepped out. He walked straight to me, pulling me behind him and shielding me from Nathan’s gaze with his own body. “Mr. Cole,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “Please stay away from my wife.”

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I’m what you’d call a “try-hard.” While everyone else gets cats or dogs, I got a snake just to prove I’m different. Some people question my life choices. “I can cuddle my cat anytime I want. Can you say the same about your snake?” I leaned down and planted a big, fat kiss right on my snake’s head. Mwah! “Not only can I cuddle him, I can kiss him too.” “My dog is super friendly; you can pet him all you want, and he won’t bite.” I ran my hands all over my snake’s body, even playfully tying him into a loose knot. “Mine’s a softie. Easier to handle than a dog.” [Girl, stop playing! Can’t you see the male lead has already fainted from happiness?] [Usually, he only dares to sneak a kiss when she’s asleep. How is he supposed to handle this kind of affection?] [He’s already passed out twice today. She gives him a little sugar, and he’s like: “She’s got moves.”] 1 I’ve been a try-hard since I was a kid. To show how unique I was, while other kids played in the mud, I sat on the sidelines reading books and doing homework. A little girl with a butterfly bow in her hair blinked at me and ran over, extending a warm invitation. “Fiona, come play with us! It’s so much fun.” I lifted my chin arrogantly. “No thanks. I think reading is more fun.” The little munchkins all gasped in unison, their round eyes widening. One kid dropped his jaw in awe. “She’s amazing. She loves studying so much.” I secretly puffed out my chest. From that moment on, I fell in love with the feeling of being different. In middle school, my classmates were immature and bullied a transfer student from a poor rural family. To show how different I was, I swooped in like an anime protagonist. Not only did I chase away the bullies, but I also became his best friend. In high school, everyone started taking things seriously, burning the midnight oil to improve their grades. But me? I sat comfortably at the top of the class, leaving right when the bell rang. I was all about that effortless vibe. My desk mate, sporting dark circles under her eyes, was green with envy. “Fiona, how do you get grades like yours?” I looked up at the sky, feigning distress. “Maybe it’s just talent. I don’t really study.” I successfully elicited a gasp of envy from her. By college, a pet craze swept through campus. Cats and dogs were everywhere. To show how different I was, I decided to get something unique. 2 But what to get was the problem. After a lap around the pet store yielded nothing, I walked down the street, feeling defeated. I spotted a bench and sat down to rest. My gaze wandered to a nearby bush. A creepy-crawly sensation spread over my body, and my legs turned to jelly. There was a snake in the grass, sunbathing. I stood up shakily, ready to bolt. I moved carefully, terrified of disturbing Mr. Snake’s sunbathing session. Two steps later, it hit me. Cats, dogs, hamsters—too common. What if I kept a snake? And not just any pet store snake. A wild one. The moment the thought crossed my mind, I couldn’t move. I turned back, pulled out my phone, and used an app to identify it. The result: Rat Snake. Non-venomous. The little black snake was still blissfully soaking up the sun, looking incredibly relaxed. He had no idea danger was approaching. In a flash, I pinched him by his “seventh inch”—the spot behind the head where you’re supposed to grab a snake. The little black snake finally reacted, thrashing wildly. Startled, I almost let go. He whipped his head around, ready to bite, but then froze. We stared at each other. The snake tilted his head. He retracted his fangs, flicked his tongue, and licked my hand. I swear I saw a hint of ingratiation in his actions. Was he also captivated by my unique aura? I didn’t dare move. If the enemy doesn’t move, I won’t move. The snake seemed to calm down. He hung there obediently, widening his eyes as if trying to look cute. I tentatively patted his head. “From today on, you’re not a stray snake anymore.” He nudged my palm. Why did the little black snake look shy? I must be seeing things. Snakes can’t be shy. 3 Since he was wild caught, I decided to quarantine him for a few days. I didn’t have a cage, so I found a cardboard box and lined it with a small blanket. The snake was well-behaved the whole time, letting me place him in the box. His tail tip brushed against my wrist occasionally. Afraid he might escape and scare the neighbors, I put the box in my bedroom and blocked any gaps. Now he couldn’t get out. Exhausted from the day, I washed up and fell asleep. I slept deeply but felt something heavy pressing on my chest, like I was being strangled. Morning came. I opened my eyes and found the culprit weighing me down. The little snake was curled up in a ball, sleeping soundly on my chest. I pinched his head and tossed him aside. He woke up, slapping the bed with his tail in protest, and slithered back onto me. I tossed him again. He crawled back. After a few rounds, realizing he had no intention of attacking, I let him be. School was starting in a few days, and I definitely wanted to take him out for a walk. Before that, I decided to train him. I would turn him into a snake more obedient than a dog and cuter than a cat. If I took him out and he misbehaved or bit someone, I’d be a laughingstock. 4 “First things first.” I looked sternly at the snake. He coiled himself into a mosquito coil shape, sitting up straight. “I need to give you a name. Something low-key but meaningful, fitting my status.” “Your name is—Inky.” The little guy, head held high, slumped down. A look of speechlessness seemed to cross his dark face. The audacity! Questioning me? I went through the entire dictionary to pick that name! I coughed loudly to remind him of his attitude. “Next, learning how to be a good pet. For example…” “Inky, sit.” The snake straightened his head, pointing his tail at himself as if asking, Who? Me? I looked at his long body. Asking him to sit might be a bit tough. So I changed the command. “Inky, shake hands.” He slithered forward and placed the tip of his tail in my palm. I gave it a squeeze. Smooth. Nice texture. “Good boy! That’s my Inky.” The moment I squeezed his tail, he flopped over, his whole body going limp. Confused, I poked him. “Inky, what’s wrong?” He remained limp, lying powerless on the floor. Worried, I picked him up. “Snakey, are you okay?” His body temperature was low, so I instinctively pressed him against my chest to warm him up. He came to, took one look, and thud—fainted cold. I quickly put him in my bag and rushed to the vet. The vet examined him while I waited outside. When he came out, I surrounded him anxiously. “Doctor, what’s wrong with my snake? Why did he suddenly faint?” The vet put down his instruments, sat back in his chair, and said concisely: “Overstimulation.” I thought hard. Nothing stimulating had happened. It must be the new environment. And I was too eager to train him. Sumimasen, Inky.

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Damian Vance, the heir to Aurelia City’s most powerful family, had a fight with his childhood sweetheart. Crying, she boarded a flight overseas. Furious and soon regretful, Damian ordered the plane to be grounded immediately. However, there was a passenger on board in critical condition. The pilot and the flight director, under immense pressure, chose to continue the flight as scheduled. When the plane landed, the young woman, Clara, ignored all warnings and wandered off alone. She was cornered and assaulted by local thugs, and when Damian finally found her, she was injured. Three days later, the pilot and the flight director were found dead in an alley. Their end was gruesome, a scene so horrific no one dared to intervene. Their bodies were left to be torn apart by stray dogs, leaving nothing behind. Five years later, I curled into Damian’s arms, my eyes red-rimmed as I watched the woman across from us, his wife, break down in utter despair. “I’m sorry, Damian, darling,” I whispered. “I just wanted to say a few words to my sister…” Damian soothed me with one hand while casting a careless glance at his wife. “Don’t make a scene, Clara. The title of Mrs. Vance will always be yours.” His voice was a silken blade. “But a man needs a little novelty now and then.” … The first time Clara Morgan completely lost control and tried to strike me was when Damian brought me to her mother’s hospital room. The moment her father saw me, he exploded. He screamed that I was a homewrecker who deserved a miserable death and, when Damian wasn’t looking, he hoisted a chair to smash over my head. “You little slut! How dare you show your face here!” Damian was faster. He intercepted the chair with a sharp crack of wood against his arm. After wrestling Clara’s father out of the room, he left me alone with her mother. Clara wasn’t there. Her mother lay on the bed, her breathing as faint as a thread. “Clara…” she rasped. “Water…” I pressed my lips together, a small, knowing smile playing on them as I walked over. “Here you are, Mrs. Morgan. Drink up.” Through the window, Damian watched my display of gentle obedience with a look of deep satisfaction. It only hardened his expression as he dealt with the struggling man in the hallway. Mrs. Morgan managed to force her eyes open. When she saw it was me, her face contorted in horror. With a surge of adrenaline, she shoved me away. I stumbled backward, unprepared, and fell to the floor. A shard of glass from a fallen vase sliced into my calf, and blood began to well up, staining my skin a brilliant crimson. “You’re so young,” she wheezed, her voice trembling with rage. “Couldn’t you learn to be a decent person? Don’t you know that home-wreckers like you are cursed by God?” “And now… now…” she gasped, “you come here to torment my family!” “Get out! Don’t let my Clara see you!” At the thought of her daughter, her eyes filled with tears. When I didn’t move, just sat there on the floor, she grew frantic and tried to get out of bed. Her breaths came in ragged, desperate gasps, like a broken accordion. Then, she collapsed onto the floor. Just at that moment, Clara walked in, carrying a bowl of soup. The scene that greeted her made her freeze. After helping her mother back into bed, she wiped the tears from her own face, walked over to me, and poured the entire bowl of hot soup over my head. “I have turned a blind eye for so long,” she hissed, her body trembling like a leaf in a storm. “Why? Why must you come here and torture my parents?” She stood there, a fragile white flower braving a hurricane, both delicate and unyielding. My voice was a choked sob, tears streaming down my face. “Sister, I was just worried you couldn’t handle taking care of your mother all alone. I wanted to help…” “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know—” She ignored me. Behind her, her mother’s condition worsened, and the heart monitor began to shriek a piercing alarm. Shaking, Clara fumbled for the call button. The door flew open, but the incoming team of doctors was stopped dead in their tracks, held back by an invisible wall. Damian strode in and swept me into his arms, his face a mask of concern. “Clara,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “Apologize to Maya.” For a moment, a flash of defiance lit up Clara’s eyes. She grabbed the bouquet of flowers I had brought, tore them to shreds, and threw the ruined petals at us. “Damian, do you have any idea why my mother is in this hospital in the first place? It was you! You make me sick,” she spat. “Get out. Both of you, just get out!” The outburst drained her completely. She crumpled to the floor, a heap of helpless despair. Damian remained unnervingly calm, utterly unmoved by her breakdown. His only concern was me, his fingers gently probing my injuries. When he discovered the gash on my leg, his gaze on Clara turned to ice. “Are you done with your tantrum?” he asked coldly. “If you are, get up. Don’t you find this embarrassing?” The doctors, though they dared not enter, were getting an eyeful. I could feel their veiled, contemptuous glances on me. Clara pointed a trembling finger at the door. “Get out! Didn’t you hear me? I said get out!” Damian just smiled, a chilling, indifferent curve of his lips. “Clara, you need to think very carefully. If I leave—” He walked over to her mother, who was now convulsing on the bed, and his hand closed around the tube of her ventilator. The monitor’s alarm blared even louder, more insistent. But without Damian’s permission, no one dared to set foot inside the room. Gasps of horror echoed from the hallway, but no one moved to stop him. The look in Clara’s eyes shifted, a rapid, horrifying kaleidoscope of shock, agony, and finally, a dead, hollow numbness. Everyone watched as the woman Damian had once spoiled into Aurelia City’s most celebrated socialite, the woman who had everything, slowly, inexorably, sank to her knees. Under the desperate, pleading eyes of her parents, she knelt before me. “Miss… Maya… I’m sorry.” Her voice was a ghost of itself. “I shouldn’t have misunderstood your kindness. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I shouldn’t have thrown the soup on you.” “Please, forgive me.” She bowed her head, breaking her own spine. She had surrendered to Damian. Satisfied, his expression softened. “See, Clara? I told you. If you just behave, we can still have a good life together.” He stroked my hair. “Maya is very sweet and understanding. She heard your mother was in the hospital and insisted on coming to visit. She’s no threat to your position.” His gentle, placating words were like a series of sharp slaps across Clara’s face. But she could only keep her head down, all fight gone from her. Everything she had, everything she was, was a gift from Damian. And just like his hand on her mother’s lifeline, he could take it all away. If she didn’t bow, her mother would die. From that day on, Clara accepted her reality. She became the docile, obedient wife Damian wanted. She submitted to his every demand. She swallowed every one of my provocations, each one a slow, twisting knife in her gut. Damian was a man of particular habits. He liked to be clean. After we made love, he insisted on washing up before starting again. He had insatiable stamina, and our nights were often long. Which meant I had to shower several times a night. One evening, exhausted, I slipped in the bathroom and twisted my ankle. Damian was beside himself with worry. Then, he came up with a “perfect” solution. From then on, whenever we were together, he made Clara wait outside the bedroom door. Each time we finished, she had to come in and help me wash. I saw it countless times: her trembling hands, her red-rimmed eyes, the raw hatred simmering just beneath the surface. The woman who wanted nothing more than to tear me to pieces was forced to serve me like a maid. She learned her lesson the first time. Distraught and clumsy, she had accidentally scalded me. “Damian, darling, don’t blame her,” I had cried, my voice laced with feigned panic. “It wasn’t her fault, I was just being careless.” But the fear in my eyes as I looked at Clara betrayed my words. Damian’s fury was explosive. He knew Clara’s weakness. He didn’t punish her directly. He punished her father. That night, her father was dragged behind a car for a mile. The torture only stopped when Clara knelt and begged me, banging her head on the floor until it was bruised and bloody. It only stopped when she took a shard of glass and carved matching wounds onto her own body. She had no choice. Day by day, the light in her eyes grew dimmer, until it was almost gone. Then, one day, she met another man. Clara had been running a high fever, but I had a craving for a specific cake. She went out into the pouring rain to buy it for me, and on the way back, she collapsed. When she woke up, she was in a hospital. A man was sitting by her bedside, and it was clear he had been there all night. It wasn’t her husband, Damian. It was a stranger. When he saw she was awake, he stirred. He was holding an insulated food container, and by some twist of fate, it held her favorite dish: shrimp congee. As she ate, tears began to silently stream down her face. They didn’t speak much. She only learned his name was Liam Blackwood. It was a name she would never forget. From that day forward, it was as if the gears of fate had started to turn, pulling them both onto the same path. Whether she was at her weakest, her most broken, or feeling a glimmer of hope after her mother’s condition improved slightly, she would find him there, a quiet, constant presence in her life. He shared her pain and her joy, and in doing so, became the pillar that held up her crumbling world. One day, she gathered the courage to ask him the question that had been burning in her heart. “Do you have feelings for me?” Liam had always been reserved, almost shy, around her. But this time, he didn’t hide it. He simply nodded. In that moment, Clara felt as though a ray of light had finally pierced the suffocating darkness of her life. Her heart pounded in her chest. But then, her eyes fell on the date on her phone. Tomorrow was her wedding anniversary with Damian. Somehow, inexplicably, she didn’t answer Liam. She went home, clinging to one last, desperate shred of hope. The sounds of my panting moans drifted from the master bedroom. She closed her eyes in disgust. When she opened them again, she saw two plane tickets on the table. They were for the island where she and Damian had spent their honeymoon. The place they had promised to return to every year on their anniversary. “He remembered…” she whispered. Her heart, which she thought was dead, fluttered for him once more. She remembered Damian’s words, that he still loved her, that his affair with me was just a passing fancy. Maybe, if she could just endure a little longer, everything would go back to the way it was. That night, for the first time in a long time, Clara slept soundly. The next morning, she dressed herself in Damian’s favorite style, her heart full of nervous anticipation. But when she went downstairs, the house was empty. The tickets were gone. Just then, a new post appeared on my Instagram feed. [He was hesitant about this island at first when I suggested it, but what my baby wants, my baby gets! We’re off!] [The price was a whole night of ‘punishment’ from Damian though hehehe…] The picture was of me, nestled in Damian’s arms, holding up the two plane tickets and making a peace sign. Clara felt like the biggest fool in the world. A wave of nausea washed over her, and she ran to the bathroom, vomiting until there was nothing left. But she didn’t have time to be heartbroken. Her phone rang. It was the hospital. “Miss Morgan? Your mother just went into cardiac arrest!” On the plane, I was leaning against Damian, watching the clouds drift by, when I overheard a heated argument from the cockpit. “Are you insane? Ground the plane now!” “Just shut up! Have you forgotten what happened last time?” “But there’s a world-renowned surgeon on this flight…” “There’s no patient in critical condition on this flight! The order came from his wife! You might not value your life, but I value mine!” A moment later, the plane began to veer sharply off course. The sudden change in direction sent us straight into a flock of birds. Blood and feathers exploded against the window in front of my eyes. I screamed and fainted in Damian’s arms. When I woke up, Damian’s voice, thick with rage, was ringing in my ears, intertwined with Clara’s hysterical sobs and pleas. “Damian, I’m begging you! Please, let my mother down!” “No! Please, no!” I was in a spacious, comfortable van. When I opened the window, I had a clear view of the scene unfolding on the ocean. It was a vision from hell. Clara’s parents were being dangled from a helicopter, spinning endlessly over the water. Below them, the dark shapes of sharks circled. Men on the helicopter were tossing chum and bloody animal parts into the sea. Some of it landed on Clara’s parents, some of it was snapped up by the sharks. Some of the sharks leaped high out of the water, their jaws snapping just inches from her parents’ feet. Clara’s face was utterly devoid of color. She had lost count of how many times she had kowtowed to Damian. But he just stroked her head, his voice deceptively gentle. “Clara, you’ve been a very bad girl. I spoiled you too much.” “Your mother wasn’t that sick. When I went to see her, she was energetically cursing Maya with you. She was faking it. I don’t believe you couldn’t see that. So why use that as an excuse to ground my plane? Do you have any idea how long Maya was unconscious from the shock?” “This,” he said, gesturing to the horrific scene, “is just an equal punishment. When you do something wrong, you have to be punished.” “Don’t worry,” he added with a chilling smile. “They’re all animal experts. They know what they’re doing. Nothing will go wrong.” Clara could only shake her head, her words choked with tears. “We didn’t lie to you… we didn’t…” But Damian no longer believed her. She couldn’t fathom how the man who had once grounded a plane for her, who had flown into a rage over a tiny scratch, could now torture her like this for another woman. Suddenly, two of the sharks went into a frenzy. They leaped from the water, their jaws clamping down on her parents’ legs. Her parents’ mouths were gagged, but their eyes were wide with unimaginable agony. The men in the helicopter, fearing the sharks would drag them down, frantically cut the ropes. “NO—” By the time Clara’s mind registered what was happening, her parents had been dragged under the waves. The dark water churned, and then, a massive bloom of crimson spread across the surface. Clara’s scream was a sound that could have shattered the sky. Even Damian seemed stunned for a moment. In that instant, Clara found a surge of superhuman strength. She broke free from the men holding her and ran to the edge of the deck. Against the light, she was a broken silhouette. “Damian,” she whispered, her voice a hollow echo. “If this is what you wanted.” Then, right before his eyes, she leaped from the deck, into the blood-red water where her parents had vanished. It was only then that Damian seemed to snap out of his trance. His heart felt like it had been hit by a sledgehammer. “NO—” he roared, his voice cracking. “CLARA—”

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The awards ceremony ended, and so did we. I broke up with Liam Walker, Crestwood PD’s golden boy. “All this because I gave the commendation for the serial killer case to Lily?” he asked, a smirk playing on his lips. “Yes.” “Fine,” he said, the smirk never wavering. “Just don’t come crying back to me.” From the academy to the city precinct, we had been partners for a decade. Everyone said we were a perfect match. He was convinced that without him, I was nothing. So he ignored me, again and again. Betrayed me, again and again. He chose a junior colleague over me and stole the honor that should have been mine. But the commendation was just an excuse. The truth was, my transfer orders had come in yesterday. I was leaving Crestwood for Veridian City, a world away from him. This time, I was truly done with him. From now on, our paths would never cross again. 1. “I’m the one who ended it. I won’t have any regrets.” “Do you even remember how many times you’ve said that?” He leaned back in his chair, the picture of nonchalance. “Was it the 97th time? 98th? Or 99th?” He was right. I’d lost count of how many times I’d used breaking up as a threat. But even so, he and Lily Evans never stopped their little dance. A colleague nearby chuckled. “Come on, Claire, what’s the drama? You can’t live without Liam.” I ignored them all, silently packing the belongings on my desk. “Claire, stop the theatrics. You’re not going to quit your job over this, are you?” When I didn’t respond, he strode over, grabbing my arm so hard I stumbled. Just then, Lily’s cheerful voice cut through the tension. “Liam, my parents want to take a trip down south. You have so much experience, could you help them plan an itinerary?” The old me would have exploded right then and there, calling him out for his lack of boundaries and her for her shameless advances. But what was the point? Nearly a hundred arguments had only pushed them closer together. Seeing that neither of us was paying her any attention, the smile finally fell from Lily’s face. Her eyes reddened, and she began to sob. “Liam… Claire… please don’t fight because of me.” She wiped at her tears, her voice choked. “This commendation… I begged him for it. My family… we’re going through a hard time, and I really needed the bonus and the honor. He only gave it to me because he felt sorry for me. Claire, please don’t blame him. It’s all my fault.” It was a masterful performance, painting her as a pitiful victim of circumstance. If I pressed the issue now, I would look like a bully. Liam, his heartstrings thoroughly tugged, handed her a tissue. Watching his tender gesture, the eight years of frustration and hurt I had suppressed erupted all at once. “Do you two really take me for a fool? Liam, the night you didn’t come home, it was Lily who answered your phone. She said you were in the shower.” “That black jacket you’re wearing—that’s Lily’s, isn’t it? And the white shirt she wore two days ago? That was the birthday gift I gave you. The embroidery on the cuff took me two weeks.” The office fell silent. Everyone stared at me, shocked. In their eyes, I had always been the gentle, good-tempered Claire Reed. They had never seen me this furious. “You two are disgusting,” I spat. Liam stared at me, his face a mask of disbelief. “Claire, have you lost your mind? How could you say that about Lily? How could you try to ruin a young girl’s reputation?” Seeing him leap to her defense, righteous and indignant, I suddenly found it all laughable. Without another word, I turned and walked away. All night, my phone buzzed incessantly. Notifications from Liam. Restaurant reservation successful. Hotel room confirmed. Your takeout order is on its way. Your Durex delivery has been dispatched. He was just trying to provoke me. The old me would have already called him, begging him to come back. But this time, I truly didn’t care. 2. Just as the sky began to lighten, I saw Lily’s new social media post. A photo of an elegant Western-style breakfast, captioned: “A new day starts with a beautiful breakfast.” In the corner of the photo was a man’s hand, knuckles well-defined. On his ring finger was a ring. The one I had saved up for three months to have custom-made. The only one of its kind in the world. I commented directly below the picture: “A whore and a dog, till death do you part.” Not long after I posted it, my doorbell rang. Standing at the door was a bouquet of vibrant red roses. I froze for a second, then remembered. Today was my three-year anniversary with Liam. After eight years together, he still didn’t remember that I hated red roses. That I loved lilies. An image of his smug face flashed in my mind—ordering flowers for me after a night with her. The thought was sickening. My phone lit up with a message from him: “Happy Anniversary.” How ironic. I kicked the offensive bouquet across the hallway and, without a moment’s hesitation, blocked and deleted his number. A cake delivery guy, just stepping out of the elevator, stared at the mess in shock. He was holding a mango layer cake. A shame. I was allergic to mango. “It’s yours,” I said, slamming the door shut. The “thud” was the only sound before the tears started streaming down my face. What had I been to him for these past eight years? Less than a pet dog. For him, I had given up a prestigious position with the Forensics Unit in Veridian City to stay in this small town. Looking back, the regret was overwhelming. A man like him was never worth sacrificing my future for. Blocked, Liam sent a message from an unknown number: “Don’t be angry. You’re talented enough to get a commendation on the next big case. Don’t be so petty.” He still didn’t get it. It was never about the damn commendation. It was about the betrayal. Shaking off the thoughts, I started packing. The apartment was filled with his things; mine were few and far between. Suddenly, I remembered I’d left the autopsy report for the serial killer case at the office. After some hesitation, I went back to the Crestwood PD. As I passed the squad room, I heard familiar voices. “Captain Walker, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. So she blocked you? She’ll unblock you eventually.” “This is the first time she’s ever blocked me,” he said with a wry, careless laugh. “What did you do to make our ice queen so mad?” a colleague joked. “It was just about the commendation.” “That’s it? Does our top ME really need one more commendation? It was good to give it to Lily. Poor kid’s been living in Claire’s shadow. If it wasn’t for you, she probably would’ve never gotten one in her life.” I walked straight past them. The noisy room fell instantly silent, broken only by a few awkward coughs. So, they did feel embarrassed when caught gossiping. Liam rushed over and grabbed my wrist, his brow furrowed. “Claire, what is this really about? Can’t we just talk?” But I had no time for him. Because inside the forensics lab, Lily was flipping through my autopsy report, a strange smile on her face. “Let go of me!” I yanked my arm free from Liam’s grip, stormed into the lab, and slapped Lily hard across the face. She clutched her cheek, staring at me in shock. “Are you sick? Do you just get off on stealing other people’s things?” I bent down, snatched my report off the floor, and glared at her. “Stealing my man wasn’t enough? Then you tried to get my job right after graduation, manipulated Liam into stealing my commendation, and now you’re putting your hands on my case files?” “Claire! How could you hit her!” Liam burst in, immediately pulling Lily into his arms. Burrowing into his chest, Lily started her waterworks. “I… I wasn’t trying to steal it. I just admire you so much, Claire. I wanted to see what one of your reports looked like… I didn’t mean any harm…” I knew she would play the victim whether I hit her or not. I might as well get the satisfaction. “Admire me? Lily, you have a strange way of showing it. Admiring me so much you have to take everything that’s mine.” 3. “Claire, have you made enough of a scene?” Liam’s voice was tight with anger as he held Lily even closer. “This is between us. Leave her out of it!” I strode forward. Before he could react, I swung my arm and landed another loud, stinging slap squarely across his face. His eyes blazed with fury, but I knew he wouldn’t dare hit me back here, at the precinct, in front of everyone. Just as I predicted, he clenched his jaw, forcing his anger down. “Claire Reed,” he said through gritted teeth, “you have just assaulted a colleague. I will be reporting this to Internal Affairs.” As they walked away, Lily clinging to him, I called out after them, my voice loud and clear. “Good. I’ll be reporting Captain Walker and Dr. Evans for their inappropriate relationship and for bringing disgrace to this department. Let’s see who goes down first!” Liam’s steps faltered for a moment before he hurried Lily away even faster. My colleagues from the forensics unit gathered around me, offering clumsy words of comfort. “Claire, calm down. Captain Walker is just confused right now…” “Yeah, you two have been through so much. This will all blow over in a few days.” “That Lily, honestly… don’t let her get to you.” I straightened the report in my hands. “It’s fine,” I said coolly. “I’m not upset. We’ve already broken up, anyway.” The air froze. “I don’t believe you” was written on every single face. Of course, they didn’t believe it. No one would believe that I could ever leave Liam Walker. Back at the academy, we had been the light in each other’s lives, the ones who saved each other. We were the campus’s golden couple. Everyone knew how much he doted on me—enough to pluck the stars from the sky, enough to cut ties with his own family for my sake. He’d even used his entire life’s savings right after graduation to pay off the massive gambling debts my parents had left behind. Everyone said he had saved me. But he always told them, “We saved each other. If I hadn’t met Claire, I might not have had the courage to keep living.” From the moment I pulled him back from that rooftop ledge, we became each other’s anchor. Everyone said Claire Reed was madly in love, that she couldn’t survive without Liam Walker. All of that began to curdle the day Lily, our junior, appeared. Our world of two suddenly had a third. She was always there, chirping “Liam” this and “Claire” that, her familiarity feeling both natural and intrusive. At a class reunion, someone joked that we looked like a “happy little family of three.” But I knew. She was after Liam. From the first moment that fragile-looking junior timidly called me “Claire,” I knew our story was about to change. I first met her at the precinct entrance. It was her first day as a forensic intern, and she arrived in Liam’s car. When she got out of the passenger’s side, she was holding a half-eaten bag of spicy chips. That seat. Liam had once sworn to me, “This is Queen Claire’s throne. No one else is allowed to sit here.” The smell of artificial spice hit me, and I saw greasy fingerprints all over the limited-edition action figure on the dashboard. My brow tightened, and anger flared inside me. But Liam just placated me. “She’s my professor’s niece, Claire. She’s young and doesn’t know any better. Don’t stoop to her level.” That night, we had the biggest fight of our lives. And that night, for the very first time, I said the word “breakup.” The second time I saw her was at the restaurant where Liam and I had our first date. The two of them were laughing together. Liam was rambling about how I didn’t know how to dress, how Lily was so much more vibrant. The moment he saw me, he rushed to explain. “I was just about to call you! My professor asked me to show Lily around, and she chose this place.” Lily stood up timidly. “Claire… I’m so sorry. I didn’t know this restaurant was special to you and Liam…” I looked at the food already on their table and my anger boiled over. I calmly suggested we break up again, then grabbed my stunned best friend’s arm and stormed out. Incidents like these became more and more frequent. He made too many exceptions for her. I fought back, again and again, and the only result was that they grew closer. I couldn’t bear to throw away all our years together. After every fight, all it took was for him to soften his tone, to murmur a few sweet words, and I would forgive him. I gave him a hundred chances. Until the awards ceremony, when he gave the commendation that was rightfully mine to Lily. In that moment, he used up his very last chance. 4. The day I went to the precinct to pick up my transfer papers, I ran into Liam and Lily. It was no surprise. They were wearing matching jackets, like a couple. I remembered asking him to wear matching outfits with me, and he’d always called me childish. Now, here he was, doing it willingly. When he saw me walk past him without a glance, Liam hurried to catch up. “Do you have to be like this? Are you really going to throw away our entire future over one commendation?” Lily rushed over too, her eyes red and tearful. “Claire, please don’t blame Liam. It’s all my fault. If it weren’t for me, you two wouldn’t have…” Her words were cut short by a sudden commotion. A man with a twisted expression, looking completely unhinged, was charging toward us, brandishing a gleaming dagger. “Look out!” Liam yelled instinctively. In that instant, time seemed to crawl. His eyes darted between me and Lily. In that split second, without a shred of hesitation, he spun around and threw his body over the crying girl, shielding her completely. The dagger, fueled by a madman’s hatred, came straight for me. I wasn’t defenseless, but his choice—his instant, unthinking choice to protect her—stunned me. My reaction was half a second too slow. Darkness swarmed my vision as my colleagues surged forward and subdued the attacker. Liam, still holding the terrified Lily, looked back at me. His handsome face was a canvas of panic… and guilt. He started to move toward me, but Lily clung to him, her grip like a vise. I woke up in the hospital. “Where’s Liam?” “He took Lily home. He said she was terrified and needed someone with her.” I closed my eyes and said nothing more. A little while later, I saw Lily’s new post. He was at the mall with her. Shopping. I stared at the picture for a long, long time. The wound on my arm throbbed, but my heart was calm. I felt no ripples, no waves. So this is what it feels like for a heart to die. No tears, no drama. Not pain, not even an ache. Just… nothing. Soon, a message from him arrived. “Claire, get some rest. I have to go out of town for an assignment. Be good and wait for me to come home, okay?” He must have thought that because I’d unblocked him, I had forgiven him, just like all the other times. He was wrong. I had only unblocked him to tell him about my transfer. But now, it seemed, there was no need. I blocked him again and boarded the plane to Veridian City. 5. When Liam Walker saw he’d been blocked again, his brow furrowed in irritation. But the notice for an urgent assignment quickly pushed the thought from his mind. He told himself Claire was just throwing another tantrum. He’d go back and smooth things over, just like he always did. Beside him, Lily saw the look on his face and gently took his arm. “Liam, what’s wrong? Are you tired? Let me get you some coffee.” He allowed her to fuss over him, temporarily shelving his annoyance with Claire. It wasn’t until a regional conference that he overheard a conversation from the forensics table. “Did you hear Claire Reed put in for a transfer to Veridian City? Such a shame, she’s a brilliant ME.” “Yeah, I heard it’s already finalized. She’s already gone.” A strange sense of dread coiled in Liam’s stomach.

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Right after high school graduation, I, the most homebody person I knew, chose a college two thousand miles away. My parents roared in fury, “All this over a single room?!” Yes. I was an only child from a middle-class family that owned three properties. Yet, for eighteen years, I was never allowed to have my own independent room. Chapter 1 At my eighteenth birthday party, I loudly made my wish in front of all our family and friends. “I want my own little room.” The room went silent. A relative looked utterly shocked: “She doesn’t have her own room? A girl her age needs some privacy.” “She’s an only child! My husband and I have two kids, and we gave up the living room just to make three bedrooms.” Ignoring the instant change in my parents’ expressions, I gave a frank smile: “That’s right, I don’t have my own room.” My dad struggled to force out a laugh: “She’s kidding. We only have one daughter and three houses. Would we deny her a room?” My mom desperately tried to signal me with her eyes: “Sunny is just messing with us. Quick, make another wish.” I sighed inwardly and stated solemnly: “Mom and Dad, I’m eighteen now. I genuinely want my own private space.” The room fell silent again. Relatives exchanged glances, then looked at my parents with complicated expressions. Both my parents had stable, respectable government jobs. They projected the image of doting parents who spoiled their only daughter. Yet, their own flesh-and-blood didn’t have a bedroom? My Grandma suddenly started crying, “It’s my fault. I took over my granddaughter’s room. I’m so old, I’ve become a burden to my children and grandchildren.” I felt a pang of guilt. Grandma had always been distant, but living with her for over a decade meant I wasn’t completely devoid of feeling for her. Was I being too extreme? As I hesitated, a stinging slap landed hard across my face. My dad stood there, hand raised, breathing heavily. “You ungrateful kid! You haven’t even done anything, and you’re already blaming your Grandma.” My mom awkwardly rushed to pull my dad away, then worriedly checked my face. “Sunny, let’s talk at home. Your parents would never say no to you.” I stood frozen. I had briefly owned my own room. But when I was six, my grandpa passed away, and Grandma was moved from the countryside to live with us. We lived in a two-bedroom apartment. My parents had one, and Grandma had to share mine. I’ve wanted my own room and have been protesting since I was six. But every time I brought it up, they’d just laugh it off. Or they’d patronize me: “You and your Grandma are the same gender, what’s the big deal about privacy? Besides, if you don’t have enough space for your stuff, we can install two more shelves.” But what I needed was independent space, a room that belonged only to me! Under the stress of studying, I needed a place to decompress. I wanted my room filled with things I liked, not Grandma’s vitamins and drab, dusty clothes. Grandma snored, she ground her teeth, and the elderly wake up often. I was constantly sleep-deprived and dozed off during the day. For the three days of my finals, Grandma was finally picked up by my Uncle Kevin. Chapter 2 I thought it was finally over, that I could finally breathe. I was mentally decorating my room the way I wanted, picturing inviting friends over. But the moment my exams finished, Grandma was brought back. It was a total letdown. I had even humbly suggested to my parents: I could make a small partition in the utility room, the kitchen, or the balcony. Just a private space. Even if it was cramped or smelled a little, I didn’t care. My mom stared at me with the look you give a clueless child, scolding gently: “You’re our only beloved daughter. How could you sleep in the bathroom or kitchen? What would people say? It would be so embarrassing.” My dad chuckled, patting my head. “Silly girl. If my colleagues found out that I, the big head of the department, made my daughter sleep in the bathroom, I’d be drowned in judgment.” Knowing that protesting was futile, I had decided to go all-in today, hoping the relatives’ comments might finally motivate them to get me a room. More than anything, I wanted to remind my parents that I was eighteen, an adult, and I needed physical private space. Was this really such an extravagant request? The hotel restaurant was buzzing, but my dad’s bloodshot eyes were fixed on me. It seemed hitting me once wasn’t enough to satisfy his anger. My mom and the other guests were holding him back, saying something I couldn’t make out. I felt like I couldn’t hear anything. My face was throbbing. I covered my cheek and ran out of the hotel. The evening breeze cleared my dizzy, miserable head. The streetlights cast a dim glow on the surrounding houses, and I felt utterly empty inside. My cousin, Dahlia, with whom I’ve always had a cold relationship, texted me: [I used to envy you when we were kids. Your parents both have government jobs, stable income. Unlike mine, hustling at the market for barely enough to feed and clothe me.] It was true. I always had the newest dresses and went to the most reputable tutoring centers. In terms of education and material possessions, my parents never seemed to hold back. When my peers complained about having to share snacks and toys with younger siblings, I even felt lucky to be an only child, my parents’ only darling. So, facing the fact that I didn’t have a room, I even used to reassure myself that my parents must have their own reasons. After all, with their income and assets, getting me a room would be easy. I didn’t reply. Dahlia’s message continued: [But I stopped envying you a long time ago. Want to know why?] I turned my phone off, ignoring Dahlia’s attempt to rub salt in the wound. I sat on a bridge. The river below was too dark to see the bottom. Just as I suddenly couldn’t see the depth of my parents’ affection for me. After an unknown amount of time, I heard a police siren. Lost in my thoughts, I hadn’t noticed the crowd gathered on the opposite side of the bridge. My mom was standing out, shouting: “Sunny! We had already decided to move! We just hadn’t told you yet! Please come down!” My dad’s eyes were also red, and he was violently slapping his own face: “I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have hit you! It was just impulse!” I looked down at myself. I was sitting so close to the edge of the water. It seemed like if I stretched my leg, I’d fall in. It turned out to be a massive misunderstanding. I apologized to the police and quickly walked off the bridge. My parents hugged me tightly, as if I were some lost treasure they had miraculously recovered. Chapter 3 “Sunny, you are our most precious darling.” “That’s right. We’re going to finalize the new house tomorrow.” I didn’t explain. If I could finally get my own room, I’d let them misunderstand my actions just this once. Putting aside the room issue, they were indeed flawless in every other aspect of my life. My parents took me out for another dinner. It was my favorite, spicy hot pot. My parents couldn’t handle spice, but they watched me eat, their faces smiling and tender. One poured my drink, the other wiped my mouth. We looked like the most loving family of three, with me as the absolute center. A few girls at the next table shot me envious glances. In that moment, I soaked up all their parental affection. Satisfied that I had finally weathered the storm, and with a touch of defiance, I replied to Dahlia: [My parents decided to move to a bigger house. Keep envying me.] Dahlia didn’t reply immediately. I thought I had won. Dahlia should feel ashamed of her words. I even regretted my impulsiveness that day, causing my parents to lose face. They were clearly already planning to move. They were thinking of me. That night, Grandma was picked up by my Uncle Kevin, but her clothes and belongings remained. I knew she would keep staying with us. But it didn’t matter. I could tolerate it a little longer. I had endured so many years; dawn was finally here. I spent the night in my small room for the first time. I binge-watched a TV show, drank soda, and laughed freely. I threw trash wherever I wanted; I could always clean it up in the morning. I wore something skimpy, put my feet up on the desk, not worrying about being seen. I even pulled out old love notes written by boys at school from the bottom of my drawer. I read them out loud, shamelessly enjoying the admiration. The next day, I was more excited than my parents to look at houses. They were looking at a retirement-friendly community, quiet and peaceful, with a community cafeteria nearby. The community had just opened, and because the prices were good and the location was excellent, units were quickly selling out. When we looked, only a few three-bedroom and two-bedroom units were left. One three-bedroom unit wasn’t too high up, and all three rooms were spacious. The only drawback was the connecting corridor, which meant the light might not be great. I carefully watched my parents’ faces. Seeing no obvious dissatisfaction, I completely relaxed. I happily spun around in the smallest room. I imagined placing my small bed here, and a big wardrobe for my beloved Hanfu (traditional Chinese clothing). I wouldn’t have to worry about Grandma’s drab clothes mixed in, making them look out of place. I could also put all my figurines on the shelves, without worrying that Grandma’s poor eyesight would cause her to knock them down. The sales agent held up the contract: “Look how much the young lady loves it. You two should put a deposit down quickly.” My parents exchanged a glance, shaking their heads quickly. “We rushed out this morning and forgot our bank cards. We’ll come back this afternoon to sign.” Chapter 4 After viewing the house, our university group chat sent out a message: it was time to finalize our college applications. My dad smiled, asking me, “Your scores are good enough for a top local school. You can even come home on weekends.” My mom squeezed my hand. “That’s right. You’ve never left me. Honestly, I’m not ready to let you go.” I leaned into my mom’s arms. “I’m a Mama’s Girl, a Daddy’s Girl. I told you I wouldn’t go to a school more than twenty miles away.” My parents exchanged proud, hearty laughs. I knew we were all content. The previous day’s bitterness was completely gone. After all, what child holds a grudge against their parents? That evening, I was scrolling through my phone when I saw a new post from the sales agent we met today: [Another unit sold at Building 5! So happy!] My hand froze. Building 5 units were all large two-bedroom units, which the agent had emphasized. When we were viewing the house, the agent, trying to expand his network, had added my WeChat. My parents were whispering about the structure in the hallway and hadn’t noticed. His post was made around 3 or 4 PM, exactly when my parents went to put down the deposit. I had wanted to go with them, but my mom pinched my cheek. “My girl’s skin is too delicate. We can’t let you get a sunburn.” I had whined and asked them to bring me ice cream on the way back. My mom, not knowing which flavor I wanted, bought every flavor. I had happily posted a picture on my social media with the caption: [Love my parents the most.] I tried to stay calm: What if I misheard or misremembered? I suppressed my hammering heart and messaged the agent. The agent was in a great mood and quickly replied. “Your folks picked a great unit for you. Local parents really love their daughters. Even though it only has two bedrooms, it’s a perfect fit for a family of three.” My heart plummeted. My mind went blank. Dahlia’s message popped up at that moment: [Your mom once told my mom to have a son so I wouldn’t envy you anymore.] [I’m a true only child. You’re just a policy-only child. I’m not bragging; I just want you to see the truth, but clearly, you’re very slow.] No, that’s not right! I shook my head violently. What if Grandma doesn’t plan on living with us anymore? Maybe she has other plans? Clutching onto that last shred of hope, I slowly walked out of my room. My parents were sitting on the sofa, calculator in hand, discussing: “The money from selling this apartment can cover the remainder of the new house.” “The new house is move-in ready. We can probably just leave the furniture here.” They saw me and immediately waved me over. “Sunny, come help us with the calculations. Your young brain is much sharper.” I tried to keep my voice as normal and calm as possible. “Will Grandma still be living with us?” Chapter 5 My dad didn’t look up, answering casually: “Of course. I’m the eldest son. I have the responsibility of caring for your Grandma.” My mom frowned slightly but said nothing, continuing to calculate with her pen. Some details I had ignored suddenly became glaringly obvious. My Grandma has two sons. My mom had complained before, wondering why my Grandma didn’t go to my Uncle Kevin’s house. My dad had said, “The nephew is a boy. It’s inappropriate for him to live with my mom.” My mom never brought it up again. My mom isn’t the type to tolerate everything. She once raged at my dad for forgetting to bring her local specialty food from a business trip, forcing him to take a long-distance bus to buy it again before she forgave him. Yet, ever since Grandma moved in, when my uncle came to sponge off us, my dad just turned a blind eye. They rarely fought over their respective families anymore. They seemed to have maintained a delicate balance. And I was the weight that could be sacrificed. “Don’t I deserve my own room? Mom and Dad, we have the means. Why are you specifically making me uncomfortable?” I couldn’t suppress the hurt and anger anymore. After yelling, I was shaking all over, tears streaming down my face uncontrollably. Facing my breakdown and rage, my parents remained strangely calm. My dad shook his head, sighing. “You found out?” My mom took a tissue to wipe my tears, chiding me gently: “You’ll only be home for a few days when you’re in college. Why waste an entire room? Listen to me, the three-bedroom unit had poor lighting. No sunlight is bad for your health.” “The large two-bedroom unit is south-facing and has a great layout. And let’s be honest, your Grandma is old. Once she’s gone, won’t that room be all yours?” My mom kept rambling, but I only caught one sentence. “Why waste an entire room.” “So, in your hearts, you see me as a daughter who will eventually marry out. I’m an outsider. I don’t deserve a room, or reserving a room for me is a waste. If I were a boy, would you have given him an independent room?” The room was deadly silent. It was only now that I truly understood Dahlia’s words. Ha, a policy-only child. How ironic. My proud status as an only child was merely a necessity forced on my parents. My parents, both working in the public sector, couldn’t risk their careers to have a second child, a son. They only had me, their daughter, but in their hearts, they still cherished an “invisible son.”

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1 After returning from my studies abroad, I went to my father’s company without telling him, wanting to give him a surprise. But on my first day, I found the entire office fawning over an intern, calling her “the Princess.” I froze, asking my new colleagues to confirm what I was seeing. They all said the girl, Pearl Shen, was my father’s acknowledged daughter. But I’m an only child. I’ve never had a sister! I sent a text to my father, a cold smile on my face. 【Dad, I was thinking, after I graduate, I’ll come intern at our company.】 As always, he replied in seconds. 【My precious daughter doesn’t need to work. Once you graduate, just stay abroad and enjoy yourself. The money I make is enough for you to live lavishly for the rest of your life!】 I locked my phone and immediately contacted my lawyer. 【Please get the divorce proceedings started for my mother.】 … The employees crowded around Pearl, their compliments flowing endlessly. I pushed my way through the throng. The moment she saw my face, the middle-aged woman standing protectively beside Pearl went pale. “Ahem, everyone get back to your desks! What does it look like, chatting during work hours!” The smiles vanished from the employees’ faces as they scattered like mice, muttering under their breath. “I thought we’d get a break with the Princess here, but why’s the boss’s wife on a warpath again?” Hearing them call another woman “the boss’s wife” sent a fresh wave of fury through me. My mother had no interest in the business, and I lived abroad. It seemed that in our absence, a new mistress had taken over the Shen household. Pearl looked annoyed. “Mom, I thought you were going to help me build my image so I could take over the company sooner. I wasn’t done showing off.” I laughed. “You want to take over my company?” Pearl shot me a venomous glare. “Obviously, this is my dad’s—” Before she could finish, the “boss’s wife” shoved her aside. “Shut your mouth and get back to work!” Then, the woman lowered her head, looking at me as if I were a ticking bomb, and forced a few words through her teeth. “We can talk about this outside.” Seeing the sweat beading on her forehead, I casually pulled out a chair and crossed my legs. “Why should we go outside? Is it because you know you’ve done something that can’t see the light of day?” The woman gasped, looking like she was about to faint. Her voice was pleading. “This… this is the office!” She reached out, grabbing my arm and pulling me out of the office, away from the prying eyes. As she did, I got a clear look at the name tag on her chest. 【Rose Qin, Secretary to the General Manager】 Rose dragged me into an empty hallway and finally let out a long breath. “You must be Mr. Shen’s daughter, Cecilia. I’ve heard so much about you.” “I know I overstepped,” she began, her eyes welling up. “I was just worried my daughter would be bullied during her internship, so I let her pretend to be Mr. Shen’s daughter. Please, I’m begging you, don’t say anything. Let an old employee like me keep some dignity.” She looked so pitiful, like a desperate mother doing anything for her child. Too bad I didn’t believe a single word. Because hanging around her neck was the exact necklace I had sent to my mother not long ago. I hooked a finger under the deep, lustrous imperial jade, my eyes glinting with mockery. “It seems you’ve overstepped in more ways than one, Ms. Qin.” My mother was a princess who had been coddled with love her whole life. She cared nothing for business, only for her jewelry collection. This piece was something I had won at a high-stakes auction, and I had specifically asked my father to fly it back to her personally. My father had promised to deliver it to her, safe and sound. It seemed my leech of a father had long forgotten who my real mother was. I tightened my grip, the cord of the necklace digging a red line into Rose’s neck. Tears instantly streamed down her cheeks, making her look even more fragile. “Miss Shen, you must have misunderstood. I’m just a poor mother trying to do what’s best for my daughter.” I sneered and suddenly yanked harder. The cord snapped. Rose cried out in pain and stumbled to the floor. I didn’t spare her another glance. I contacted my lawyer. 【Get the divorce proceedings started for my mother.】 【You heard me. I’m making the decision.】 … I went home with the lawyer, who had rushed to meet me, and slapped the divorce papers down in front of my mother. She was completely bewildered. “Cecilia, are you insane? Your father and I have a wonderful relationship. Why would we get a divorce?” “Did your father cut your allowance? My sweet girl, don’t throw a tantrum. Here, take my card.” As my mother pushed her black card toward me, my lips trembled, and tears welled up in my eyes. My mother’s family had once been the wealthiest in New York. She grew up in a bubble, shielded from the ugliness of the world. How could I be the one to tell her about the disgusting things my father had done? Seeing me cry, she rushed to comfort me. As she bent over, a fake jade pendant slipped out from under her blouse. She saw me staring and gave me a reassuring smile, quickly tucking it away. “Your father said you picked this out especially for me. I love it so much, I wear it all the time.” In that moment, everything became clear. My mother has seen every treasure under the sun; how could she not recognize a fake? She must have known my father had swapped the gift, but thought I had been scammed, so she wore it happily to protect my feelings. The image of Rose flaunting the real necklace flashed in my mind. I didn’t hesitate any longer. “Mom, Dad’s having an affair.” “And not only that, his daughter is a year older than me.” The color drained from my mother’s face. Her eyes filled with tears. “Cecilia, do you have any idea what you’re saying?” I steeled myself and laid out a stack of photos. My mother picked up the first one. When she saw the brilliant necklace around Rose’s neck, her body went rigid. She looked at me, her face pale, before continuing. As she picked up the second photo, I sighed. “The girl in the picture, that’s their daughter, Pearl.” “If I hadn’t gone to the company today without telling you, I would have never known that there was already a new ‘Mrs. Shen’ and a ‘Princess’ in charge.” Tears streamed down her face as she reached for another photo. I gritted my teeth. “That’s a company share transfer agreement. The shares you trusted Dad with, the ones you gave him to manage, he handed them all over to his mistress and his illegitimate child.” My mother froze, her eyes scanning the document. The next page was a university acceptance letter. Seeing the name of the medical school, a flicker of realization crossed her face. The crying stopped, replaced by a grave expression. I gave a bitter laugh. “That’s right. I failed my college entrance exams and had to study abroad.” “But I did some digging today. It turns out I didn’t fail. It was James—that ungrateful leech—who swapped my scores with Pearl’s.” At my words, the sadness on my mother’s face hardened into a cold fury. She slammed her hand on the table. “That bastard! How dare he hurt my daughter!” I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I had gambled correctly. At her age, my mother could forgive many things, but I would not tolerate having a backstabbing parasite for a father. If it was just about the affair, she might have hesitated. But learning he had stolen my future? That was unforgivable. I gently wiped away her tears. “What’s past is past. What matters is now.” “Mom, you inherited a multi-billion-dollar fortune from Grandpa, including several public companies. I suspect that while you’ve been hands-off, Dad has seized control of everything. That’s why he’s so brazenly bringing his mistress into the company.” I expected her to be anxious, but she just smiled knowingly. “Don’t worry, darling. The prenup is iron-clad. Everything I own, James was only managing. The moment we divorce, he has to give it all back.” “In that case,” I said, my voice turning to ice, “let’s make sure that unfaithful bastard loses everything and is ruined for life.” Just then, my phone buzzed incessantly. I realized the employee notification group I had muted was blowing up with 999+ messages. 【To celebrate the Princess’s successful onboarding and the company’s upcoming IPO, a grand banquet will be held at The Zenith Club! All employees and their families are cordially invited!】 【The boss is so generous! I heard the minimum spend there is two grand a person!】 【It’s all thanks to the Princess! Long live the Princess!】 Pearl herself made an appearance, dropping a dozen large cash-filled “red packets” into the chat. The compliments and fawning intensified. I watched the celebration with a cold smile. Just when I was wondering what to do next, James had the audacity to throw his illegitimate daughter an IPO welcoming party. Perfect. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I found James’s contact and sent him a message. 【Dad, I’m flying home today. Could you and Mom pick me up from the airport?】 He replied instantly. 【What are you doing back now?】 【I mean, is my baby girl homesick?】 【I’ll tell your mother right away and book her a flight to come see you. I’ll come visit after I finish up some things here. Be good, do some traveling, and take lots of pretty pictures for Daddy to show Mom, okay?】 I raised an eyebrow and showed the phone to my mother. She needed to see his true colors. She had already recovered from her initial shock and was now sitting at her vanity, picking up a custom-made makeup brush. She beckoned to me. “Come. Let’s get you ready.” “We’re going to pay a visit to your father… and his other family.” … The Zenith Club was buzzing with energy. At the entrance, a staff member stopped my mother and me. “Ladies, please step this way for a security check.” A security check for dinner? My mother and I exchanged a look of disbelief. Seeing our expressions, the staffer smiled. “Apologies, but this event is not only for the company’s IPO, but it’s also a welcoming party for the boss’s own daughter.” “Mr. Shen adores his daughter, Pearl. For her safety, everyone entering the restaurant must go through security.” My mother and I rolled our eyes in unison. The staffer saw our disdain and sniffed. “What’s with that look? Everyone at Shen Corp knows Mr. Shen has doted on his precious daughter since she was a baby. He even braided her hair and picked out her clothes himself!” My smile froze. When I was a baby and my mother was away, James had left me unattended in the bathtub. A maid found me unconscious, having nearly drowned. He promised to take me to the park but left me locked in a hot car in the middle of summer. A passerby had to call the police to get me out. He took me hiking, I fell down a ravine, and he went home without even noticing I was gone until my mother asked where I was. I used to tell myself he was just focused on work. But I was wrong. He wasn’t incapable of love. He just never loved me. My mother, sensing my distress, pulled me away, only for us to run into a group of people fawning over Rose. She was showing off a jade bracelet James had personally flown abroad to bid on for her. “My James knows I love these things. He spent eight million on it for me. He’s so thoughtful.” My mother raised a hand to her own bare neck, a sarcastic smile playing on her lips. “Don’t be sad, Cecilia. He loves taking care of people and buying them jewelry, doesn’t he?” “Today, I’m taking back everything I ever gave him. And I’m going to watch that ungrateful wolf meet his end.” I took my mother’s hand, and we found a quiet corner to wait. Just then, my phone buzzed. It was a video call from James, who never, ever initiated contact. My heart leaped into my throat. I almost dropped my phone. Then I realized—I had just seen Rose. After I left, James must have been busy with the party preparations and hadn’t spoken to her yet. Now that everything was ready, she must have told him about our encounter. He suspected something was wrong. This was an interrogation. I looked at my mother for help, but she was perfectly calm. She simply smiled. “Follow me.” She led me through a winding corridor and, to my surprise, into a wine cellar. Pointing to the walls of wine and the foreign staff milling about, she said, “I thought this might happen, so I had some of my international staff wait nearby. Answer it. With James’s limited worldview, he won’t know the difference.” I let out a breath and answered the call. James’s greasy face filled the screen. “Sweetheart, where are you?” I held up the phone and did a 360-degree spin. “Wine tasting with some classmates. The signal isn’t great. What’s up?” I held the pose, pretending the video was frozen. On the other end, James frowned, scrutinizing every detail, before finally sighing in relief. I heard him mutter to someone off-screen. “I told you she was still abroad. Cecilia is such a mama’s girl; she would have told her mother immediately. There’s no way she came back without saying anything.” “Stop worrying and go get changed!” I was about to explode. The sheer audacity of this man, calling his real daughter to verify a lie for his mistress. My mother, having heard enough, ended the call and hurried me back to the banquet hall. By the time we returned, the party had already started. After a stunning fireworks display, a dapper James walked onto the stage, holding a beautifully dressed Pearl by the hand. To thunderous applause, they shared a heartfelt hug. James looked at Pearl as if she were a precious jewel. “My daughter, Pearl. Her name says it all. She is the pearl of my eye.” “Today, here, in front of all our dear partners and loyal employees, I am officially introducing the pearl of my eye to you all!” “As you know, the pharmaceutical company under my name is about to go public. And my daughter is a brilliant graduate from a top medical university. I hereby announce that I am gifting this company to my daughter, Pearl, as a symbol of my love and devotion. I hope that under my protection, her future will always be a path of ease and success!” The entire audience was moved by his passionate display of fatherly love, erupting in wild applause. After the applause died down, I slipped through the crowd, leaped onto the stage, snatched the microphone, and smiled at James. “Dad, before you give my mother’s company to your illegitimate daughter, shouldn’t you ask for my opinion?”

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My sister is dead. Her body was laid to rest months ago, but today I received a text message from her phone. The message contained just three rules: “Watch out for anyone wearing red.” “The food Mom makes is safe to eat, but if you find teeth, nails, hair, or other things in it, do not tell Mom.” “Be home by 10 PM. Once inside, you must be in bed immediately!” 1 I was utterly creeped out. The message was absurd yet full of dire warnings. My sister died, and her phone was supposedly tucked away in a box under her bed as a keepsake. So how did it just send me a text? A cold dread washed over me. Unless… this was a delayed message my sister set up before she died. “Jessie, come and eat dinner.” My dad’s voice suddenly called out. He was sitting on the living room sofa, waving me over. “Dad.” I hesitated, then asked: “Did you guys touch my sister’s phone after she died?” The mention of my sister made my dad frown. His expression was strange. “What did you say?” I bit the bullet: “My sister sent me a text.” “A text? What did it say? Let me see.” Before I could react, my dad stood up and snatched my phone. A few seconds later, a faint smile appeared on his face. “Someone must have stolen your sister’s number. You don’t need to worry.” “You really don’t need to worry.” My dad repeated the phrase like a broken record. Then, he smiled, picked up the fork from the coffee table, and violently stabbed himself in the throat! His suicide was sudden, decisive, and done with incredible force. The metal tines pierced his throat. “Dad!” I screamed, rushing toward him. Bright red blood poured from my dad’s throat. He slumped onto the sofa, the faint smile still plastered on his face. “What’s wrong?” My mom walked in from the kitchen when she heard the noise. The moment I saw her, my pupils constricted. My mom… she was wearing a red dress! Yet, she always hated the color red; she didn’t even allow red items in the house. ‘Watch out for anyone wearing red.’ The message flashed in my mind again. Cold sweat prickled my back. I instantly felt wary and defensive toward my mom. “Why is your father dead?” My mom’s face showed no sign of grief, and her voice was completely flat. It was as if the person who died wasn’t her husband, but a stray cat. “I don’t know.” I kept my guard up, shaking my head. “Dad called me for dinner. When I came out, he had already stabbed himself.” Investigators arrived quickly. They were dressed bizarrely. They were men, yet they wore blood-red, ankle-length dresses. My mom claimed my dad was stressed and suffered from severe depression, leading to suicide. She was lying! My dad wasn’t depressed! He told me this morning that he was taking me swimming this weekend! I blurted out: “That’s not true! Dad he…” “He what?” The investigator stopped writing, twisting his head to look at me. I gasped, my heart hammering against my ribs! The investigator’s appearance had warped. His face was stretched long, his eyes were far apart, near his temples—as alien and sudden as a snake’s head. “Why aren’t you speaking?” His head remained still, but his ominous, jaundiced eyes slid sideways, watching me. “Please continue to elaborate!” 2 “My dad… he was indeed very depressed. He often wanted to kill himself.” I forced the words out. The investigator nodded impassively, zipped my dad’s body into a bag, and wheeled him downstairs. Their movement when lifting the body was a strange, horizontal glide. As they turned the corner on the stairs, I saw a large, greasy-looking tail poking out from beneath one of the red skirts. My eyes widened. My breath was shallow, and my hands and feet started shaking uncontrollably. The world had fractured. From the moment I received that text from my dead sister, the world had become alien and grotesque. “Dinner time soon. I need to get your sister’s meal ready.” My mom turned and headed back to the kitchen. Through the doorway, I saw her hunched over a cutting board, violently chopping meat with a cleaver. The meat didn’t look like pork. It had thin skin, no visible fat, and a grayish-white color, like it had been frozen for too long. Thump, thump, thump. The sound of the chopping was deafening. I covered my ears and bolted out the front door. It looked like rain; the sky was a dull gray. People were strolling around the neighborhood. Some were walking their dogs, some watering plants, and others playing hopscotch. But, without exception, they were all wearing red clothes. As I passed them, a wave of sheer terror washed over me. These people looked like they were minding their own business. But their eyes were tracking me. Every move I made, their eyes followed! The little girl playing hopscotch was the worst; she was hunched over, leaning forward, but her face was twisted almost 180 degrees to stare at me! Cold sweat poured down my spine; I was shaking all over. “Sis, what are you doing?” Suddenly, a bright, clear voice called out. My younger sister, Lily, was walking toward me, carrying her long-braided doll backpack. “It’s getting dark. Why aren’t you going home?” I quickly looked at Lily. She wasn’t wearing red; she had on a white princess dress. I exhaled in relief. “Dad died, and Mom is acting strange.” Lily’s face instantly went paper-white. “Did Dad see the text message?” My eyes widened. “How do you know?” “My sister sent me a message, too.” Lily raised her arm and tapped her smartwatch a few times. The tiny screen displayed a message. “When Dad sees the message I sent you two, he will surely kill himself.” “His death is punishment for breaking a rule.” “If you don’t follow the rules, you will definitely die too!” Rules? Were the three sentences in my sister’s text message the key to survival? My heart dropped. I urgently asked, “What time is it right now?” Lily looked confused. She backed out of the text screen. The main watch face showed 9:59. “Run!” I screamed, grabbing Lily’s hand and sprinting toward our apartment building. My sister’s final rule emphasized: we must be home before 10 PM and immediately get into bed! We live on the third floor. If we ran fast enough, we could make it in time. But after only two flights of stairs, my feet felt like lead; every step was agonizingly difficult. “Lily, why are you so heavy?” I turned back and saw a horrifying sight. The doll on Lily’s back had turned into a bloody, raw baby’s face! 3 “What’s wrong, Sis?” Lily looked up at me, clearly bewildered. “Nothing! Let’s just run!” I turned my head, ignoring the wrinkled baby’s face. “Ah!” Lily suddenly shrieked. In my peripheral vision, I saw the infant clinging to her back, aggressively biting her shoulder. Lily’s white dress turned red as blood dripped onto the concrete stairs. I knew this grotesque infant was trying to stop my sister and me from getting home. “It hurts so much.” Lily threw off my hand. She crouched down, clutching her shoulder in agony. “I can’t run anymore!” “No!” My nerves were stretched taut. I screamed at Lily: “If we don’t run, we’ll die!” “It really hurts, Sis. It hurts so much I feel like I’ll die if I move.” Lily shook her head, gasping for breath. I frantically looked up at our apartment, only one flight of stairs away. The apartment lights were off. The red front door was open, an incomprehensibly deep black hole. “Sis, you go first.” Lily cried, twisting her shoulder, trying to dislodge the thing on her back. But the infant seemed welded to her skin. It wouldn’t let go. “Stop wasting time!” I raised my hand and, for the first time ever, slapped my sister across the face. Lily flinched, then stood up, her eyes red, and pushed me away. I fell to the floor, scraping my palms on the cement. The pain ignited my fury. I didn’t waste another word, hauling her up by her arm and forcing her to run. Dad was dead, Mom was changed. I desperately didn’t want my only sister to die too. As we reached the third floor, the hallway light flickered on. The dim light illuminated our doorway, faintly revealing a pair of feet wearing a red dress. The feet were pressed together, bare, with startlingly white, almost goat-like skin. I gritted my teeth, dragged my sister inside, and rushed into the apartment. Click. The house lights turned on. Under the harsh, blinding light, Mom stood there in a red dress, barefoot, holding a plate with an impassive expression. She spoke, her lips barely moving: “Time to eat.” The plate held slices of meat, pale white, piled high. “Mom, we need to go to sleep.” I pulled Lily toward our bedroom. Lying on the soft bed, I tightly shut my eyes, letting out a sigh of relief. Fortunately, in the final minute, we followed the text message rule: we got inside and lay in bed. I now completely believed in the rules. Because once we were home, I saw that the biting infant on Lily’s back had turned back into the harmless, braided doll. Lily’s shoulder was completely unmarked; there was no wound or blood. “Sis…” Lily whispered my name shortly after lying down. I quickly put my finger over her lips, making a ‘shushing’ gesture. Lily went silent. I took her hand and wrote on her palm: ‘Remember Big Sister’s text!’ The third rule was: ‘Be home by 10 PM. Once inside, you must be in bed immediately!’ If we just slept, as the rule instructed, we would be safe tonight. Then, a sickening, grinding sound started up. I knew that sound. When I used to eat Mom’s braised chicken feet, I’d snap the bones, letting them break through the skin, then eat the boneless foot. But this sound of bone and tissue tearing was loud and jarring. It sounded like human bone separation… Cold sweat beaded on my forehead. I tightly clutched Lily’s hand, unable to relax. “Sis.” Lily spoke again, her voice hoarse, filled with fear and pain: “My watch is one minute behind standard time.” My heart dropped. That meant we hadn’t gotten home on time. So, was the horrifying noise I was hearing now the punishment for breaking the rule? No! No, the punishment wouldn’t be that mild. Because Lily’s hand bones were gone. I had just been holding her hand, but the bones in her palm had suddenly vanished. Her hand felt soft and rubbery, like a plastic glove filled with warm water. Filled with absolute terror, I frantically felt her stomach, arms, shoulders… Everywhere was the same. There were no hard bones beneath her skin. I opened my eyes in panic. Lying next to me was a corpse. A body completely drained of bone, looking like a human-shaped skin suit filled with water, soft and slack on the bed. It was my sister. She was no longer beautiful. Her face had melted like quicksand, erasing her features, looking twisted and utterly decomposed. “Sis.” Lily desperately forced her eyes open. The melted skin finally separated into a thin, black slit. It was her dark pupil. She mumbled something indistinct: “Don’t… believe…” Before she could finish, thud. A sharp crack echoed. The flower-shaped ceiling lamp crashed down. It landed squarely on Lily’s head. Red blood and white brain matter splattered all over me… 4 I screamed hysterically and blacked out. When I woke up again, Lily’s body was gone. The room was pristine, free of any blood. I didn’t even have any horrible, bloody stench on me. I looked up. The lamp was hanging exactly where it should be on the ceiling. Only Lily was missing. I stared at the lamp, feeling a bizarre sense of confusion. Lily and I had both gone to bed at 10:01 PM. Why was Lily dead, but I was still alive? After a long period of thought, I realized that the time specified in the final rule wasn’t objective time, but the time we subconsciously accepted based on a clock. I always believed I got home at 10 PM, so I was spared. But Lily was aware of the delay; she felt guilty. Therefore, the invisible hand of the rules extracted her bones and killed her. Suddenly, a strong aroma of roasted meat drifted in. The smell came from the kitchen. I stumbled out of bed and saw my mom with her back to me, using tongs to flip slices of meat in a frying pan. Her long black hair was loose. She was still barefoot, and her toenails were painted with red polish. But thankfully, she was wearing a white dress now, just like Lily’s. “Your sister is dead.” My mom said it without turning around. It was as if she had eyes on the back of her head. I tightly clutched the doorknob, afraid to get too close. “How did she die?” “You should know very well.” My mom turned around, looking directly at me. Her face was strange. Her eyes were red and swollen, like she had been crying in pain over Lily’s death for a long time. But starkly contrasting that grief, her lips were painted with bright red lipstick. “I don’t know.” I shook my head. “I was asleep. I don’t know how Lily died.” My mom’s expression turned sorrowful. She said, word for word: “The light fell and crushed her head.” The image of the blood and brains splattering my face flooded my mind. My fingers, gripping the doorknob, began to tremble uncontrollably. “Lily died, but why is there no blood on the bed? Why is there no sign that anyone died here?” “You slept for two days. I cleaned everything up so you wouldn’t be upset when you woke up.” My mom paused. She suddenly reached out and touched my head. “You’ve slept for two days. Are you hungry? Go sit in the living room. I’ll bring you dinner.” Her palm wasn’t cold; it was warm. The touch on my head made my nose sting. I wanted to cry. In one day, I had lost my dad and my sister. Her affectionate touch felt like the familiar, loving mom I knew was back. “Silly child. Go wash your hands and get ready to eat.” My mom patted me gently. I went to the bathroom and turned on the faucet. The moment the water hit my hands, my eyes narrowed sharply. My mom lied! I hadn’t been asleep for two days! In fact, I might have only slept for a few minutes! The scrape on my palm from falling after Lily pushed me was still beading blood! But Lily died. How could my mom have cleaned the room in mere minutes? A more terrifying thought struck me. I only slept for a few minutes. That means I hadn’t followed my sister’s final rule. After 10 PM, I had not stayed in bed!

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