Category: English

I was the designated “simp” for Finn Sterling, the school’s golden bad boy. Everyone thought I loved him more than life itself. He skipped class to fight? I copied his notes. He flirted with other girls? I covered for him. I spent three years acting like a total doormat, dragging his sorry ass across the finish line to get him into an Ivy League university. But right before freshman orientation, he dumped me. He looked down at me with that arrogant smirk, “Gwen, I know you’ve been obsessed with me for years. But your brain is just… textbooks. Compared to Hannah, you’re too stiff. Too boring. We’re done. I’m going to be with Hannah.” The crowd held its breath, waiting for my breakdown. I glanced at my bank app. The pending balance of $5 million had just cleared. I smiled sincerely. “Okay. Congratulations.” Nobody knew that my unconditional devotion was purely because his mother paid me an obscene amount of money. Now that the check had cleared, it was time for me to vanish. 1 “The School King just dumped her, and she said congratulations?” “She hung up in less than a minute. She’s definitely losing it. Probably having a mental breakdown right now.” “I don’t know, man. She looked calm. Like she’s been waiting for this.” Someone glanced nervously at Finn. He had his arm around his new girl, but his handsome face was dark, clearly annoyed that I hadn’t begged. The gossip quickly shifted. “No way. Gwen has been obsessed with Finn for years. She’s probably just holding it in. Give it three days, she’ll be crawling back begging him not to leave her.” Finn’s expression softened slightly at that. “If she comes back and begs, I might consider forgiving her. Depends on her attitude.” I didn’t hear any of this. I was already dragging my suitcase to the airport. If I had heard them, I would have laughed. If my parents hadn’t been convinced that “school is useless for girls” and tried to sell me off for a dowry while I was still a teenager… If my alcoholic father hadn’t torn up my acceptance letter and beaten me half to death… If Mrs. Sterling hadn’t found me at my lowest point and offered me a deal—cover my high school tuition and give me $5 million if I got her son into Harvard… I never would have chased after a bully like Finn Sterling. I never would have been his on-call servant. Three years. I used every trick in the book to turn that rebellious slacker into a straight-A student. Now the job was done. I had the money. I was escaping hell. Why would I be sad about him switching girlfriends? I just wanted to survive. Love had nothing to do with it. I didn’t go to the local college I was accepted to. My parents would have hunted me down for the dowry money. To leave, I had to leave completely. Over the summer, I aced the TOEFL and got my French to a B2 level. I was enrolled in a design school in Paris. As I boarded the flight, a text from Finn popped up. “Why are all my calls blocked? Gwen, haven’t you thrown enough of a tantrum? Even if I’m with Hannah, we can still be friends. Stop acting out. Unblock me.” 2 Even in a text, he was condescending. He was so sure I was playing hard to get. He thought I’d come wagging my tail like always. I popped the SIM card out of my phone, snapped it in half, and tossed it into the airport trash can. Along with that card, I threw away the humility, the schemes, and the unbearable past. The plane took off, leaving everything behind. Later, my best friend told me Finn went crazy on my social media. Comments like: “Are you done yet?” “It’s just a breakup, why are you so dramatic?” “Add me back now!” She said, “At first, Finn was sure you were bluffing. When you didn’t show up, he got violent. Mentioning your name made him snap.” It sounded like a story about a stranger. I used Mrs. Sterling’s millions to restart my life in Paris. Top design school. New language. Heavy workload. It was hard, but there was no Finn to please, no suffocating parents to escape. Just sketchpads, fabric, and a future that belonged to me. Years flew by. With talent and sweat, my jewelry designs started making waves at Fashion Week. I won a few international awards. I became the new Chief Designer for Lumina, a rising luxury brand, and was sent back to the States to open up the market. First day back. I was grabbing lunch downstairs at the new HQ when a hesitant voice called out behind me. “Gwen? Is that you?” I turned. It was Ashley, a girl who sat in front of me in high school. Her eyes went wide, scanning me from head to toe. “OMG! It is you! You’ve changed so much!” Gone was the timid, people-pleasing girl in thrift store clothes. Time and money had given me a quiet confidence. “Long time no see.” “This is crazy!” Ashley was hyped. “There’s a class reunion tonight at the Sky Lounge upstairs. Everyone is coming, even Finn! You have to come! No one will recognize you!” Finn Sterling? That name felt like a relic from a past life. I wanted to say no, but then I thought—why hide? I had nothing to be ashamed of. “Sure.” I spent the day handling the handover for the new office. By the time I remembered the reunion, it was late. I didn’t bother changing and went upstairs in my casual clothes. I pushed open the heavy doors, and the noise hit me. 3 My eyes swept the room and landed instantly on the man holding court at the main table. Finn Sterling. He looked older, his features sharper. Wearing a bespoke suit, looking lazy and expensive. He was still the center of the universe. Next to him was a young, flashy girl. Not Hannah. The bad boy had updated his accessories again. A drunk guy spotted me first. “Holy sh*t! Look! Finn! Your simp is back!” The room exploded. Everyone turned to stare. Shock. Amusement. Schaudenfreude. Finn looked up. When he saw me standing there, his pupils dilated. His relaxed smirk froze. It was replaced by shock, and something complicated I couldn’t read. The girl next to him sensed the shift immediately. She tightened her grip on his arm, glaring at me with hostility. “Gwen?” I ignored the whispers. I walked over to the empty seat next to Ashley and poured myself a glass of water. “Gwen, wow, you’re alive,” Tiffany, the class mean girl, spoke up first. Her voice dripped with fake sweetness. “I heard you didn’t go to college? Makes sense, your family couldn’t afford it anyway.” “Where have you been working? People said you married some old guy for money. But looking at your outfit… pretty casual, huh?” She emphasized “old guy,” and a few girls giggled. “I was abroad for a few years. Just got back,” I said calmly. “Oh, abroad!” Chad, the class clown, jumped in with exaggerated sympathy. “It’s tough for returnees these days. Unless you were doing… illegal work over there? Do you have a job now? Need a hookup?” “My uncle’s company needs a clerk. Low requirements, just need to know how to type. The pay sucks, but it’s legit work. Better than whatever you were doing…” 4 He trailed off, implying something dirty. “Yeah, exactly,” Tiffany chimed in. “Foreign guys just like to play around with Asian girls, you know? Gwen, we’re old friends. If you’re struggling, just ask.” “You don’t have a degree, and you look kind of… plain. Interviews might be tough. I can lend you some cash to buy a suit? It’s a shame, you were top of the class once.” Finn remained silent. But his hand gripped his glass tight, his eyes dark, fixed on me. His new girlfriend, Lola, couldn’t take it anymore. She sneered, leaning forward with a look of supreme condescension. “So you’re Gwen? I’ve heard about you.” “I heard you were a total stalker. Chasing my Finn like a desperate puppy.” “Doing his homework, taking notes, covering for him?” “Thanks for your hard work,” she paused, letting the class snicker. “But at least you knew your place. You knew you weren’t in his league and ran away. But it looks like you haven’t done well for yourself?” “Finn is taking over the Sterling Group now. And me? I just took over my family’s fashion brand. I’m busy negotiating a collab with a top international design house. If you’re broke, we can throw you a bone.” I sipped my water. “No thanks.” Lola rolled her eyes. “You probably don’t even know my level. Ever heard of Lumina? It’s the hottest new French jewelry brand.” “Their Chief Designer is a genius in Paris. Very mysterious. I pulled so many strings to get a meeting. If she agrees to a collab… I’ll be famous.” “Once that happens, I can feed you with the crumbs from my table.” The classmates oohed and aahed. “I know Lumina! Their taste is insane!” “That designer is legendary. Lola, you have connections!” “Finn is so lucky to have a power couple partner!” Lola lifted her chin, soaking it in. “What’s the designer’s name?” someone asked. “Her English name is Eileen Gu, but she’s Chinese,” Lola bragged, pretending to know details. “Young, talented, highly respected in France.” “It’s hard for a small brand like ours to get her, but I’m confident.” She leaned onto Finn. “Right, babe?” Finn grunted.

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The day I was discharged from the hospital, my depression finally in remission, I waited at the entrance for hours. It was nearly midnight when the message from Lucas Sterling finally came through. Something urgent came up at the firm. Don’t wait up, just head home. A moment later, I saw the new post on Bethany Reed’s Instagram. It was a photo of Lucas, sleeves rolled up, patiently changing a lightbulb for her. The caption read: For all the hard things in life, I’m so lucky to have you. My breath caught in my throat. I tapped the ‘like’ button and quietly called a cab. When I got home, I was surprised to find Lucas already there, looking like he’d rushed back. He saw me and immediately grabbed my hands, his voice tight with anxiety. “Don’t overthink it, Mia. She’s just an old friend. I was just helping her out.” I nodded, playing the part of the compliant girlfriend he expected. But his brow only furrowed deeper. He hesitated, then asked, “…Mia? What’s wrong?” I just shook my head, my gaze fixed on the ugly, layered scars that covered my wrists. Nothing was wrong. I was just… done loving him. … The room fell silent for a long moment. Finally, Lucas let out a sigh, reining in his temper to coax me. “Mia, please don’t be like this.” “It was nothing. I didn’t do anything with her, I just helped her with something small.” “I already promised you I wouldn’t cross any lines with Bethany again. Don’t fixate on one little thing.” He finished and moved to wrap his arms around me, but I took a silent step back, avoiding his touch. A muscle in his jaw twitched. His patience finally snapped, his voice rising. “What the hell do you want from me?!” I flinched, a sudden fog of tears blurring my vision. He seemed to realize he’d gone too far, a flash of regret in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to blame you—” “I want to break up.” My voice was barely a whisper, but it cut through his words. “What?” Lucas stared at me, then pressed his fingers to his temples as if fighting off a massive headache. “Can you not do this again? Don’t threaten to break up every time we have a problem.” “It’s always this, Mia. I’m so tired.” “Yes, I know. I cheated on you before. I was with Bethany, and it was wrong, it hurt you. But I’ve changed, haven’t I? Haven’t I been good enough to you these past months?” “Just because I made one mistake, you’re going to torture me like this forever?!” There it was again. I couldn’t look at him. The air in the room felt like it was turning to thick, black water, ready to pull me under. A wave of terror washed over me, and for a horrifying second, I felt the urge to drop to my knees and beg for his forgiveness. But I held my ground, repeating the words. “I want to break up.” Crash! He slammed his water glass onto the floor, and it shattered into a thousand pieces. “Aah!” I screamed, dropping into a crouch and wrapping my arms over my head, trembling uncontrollably. “I’m sorry… please don’t hit me… I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Lucas loomed over me, his voice dripping with scorn. “There you go again. Faking it.” “Mia, have I been too good to you lately? Did that make you think you could control me with these pathetic little acts?!” I couldn’t process his words. The rising volume of his voice just sent fresh waves of panic through me, and I scrambled away from him like a cornered animal. The look in his eyes hardened into disappointment. “Fine.” “Calm yourself down. When you’re ready to be rational, we can talk.” I don’t know when he left. By the time the storm in my body subsided, the sun was streaming through the windows. Slowly, I packed a bag and walked out. I passed a few neighbors on my way out. They gave me those familiar, pitying looks, and as I walked away, I could hear their hushed whispers. “What’s going on now? Another tantrum?” “You don’t think they’re actually breaking up, do you? I don’t get it. They fight every single day. Why are they even still together?” “She can’t let go, probably. Who could, in her position?” “That man doesn’t love her. If it were me, I would have walked away a long time ago.” They were right. I should have walked away a long time ago. I paused and looked back at the apartment complex, now small in the distance. I couldn’t stop the hot, heavy tears that finally fell. Ten years of this. I had cried, I had raged, I had lost my mind. I had trampled on every last shred of my dignity until I was nothing more than a joke. Lucas Sterling, I’m finally done loving you. I was eighteen when I got together with Lucas. I had just been accepted into the country’s top art academy, my future a bright, shining path. Then the call came from home. My father was addicted to gambling and had racked up an insurmountable debt. With my back against the wall, I dropped out of school and started working as a cocktail waitress in a high-end club. That’s when Lucas appeared. He was thoughtful, a gentleman, handsome and well-mannered, like a prince from a fairytale. He was so good to me. He paid off my father’s debts and had him transferred to a private hospital after the loan sharks beat him so badly he was paralyzed. He remembered my cycle, brewing me ginger tea whenever I had cramps. When I couldn’t sleep, he would hold me all night, whispering stories until I drifted off. Falling in love with him was inevitable. After we got together, everyone said I wasn’t good enough for him. They’d laugh, their contempt barely veiled. “She’s just some cheap cocktail waitress. Does she really think she’s pulled off a Cinderella story?” “Haha, everyone in this town knows Lucas is just playing with her.” “Just wait until she comes back…” A cold knot would form in my stomach. I never let myself listen to the end. Of course, I knew I didn’t deserve him. Our worlds were galaxies apart. But I loved him, and because of that, I missed my chance to walk away when I should have. From that love, the thorny branches of insecurity began to grow. I never dared to ask him who “she” was. Instead, I’d joke around, asking if he loved me. He would never answer. He would just look at me, his dark eyes seeming to see right through me, to a place I couldn’t follow. My anxiety grew. Eventually, I heard the name: Bethany Reed. She was his first love, the one that got away. They said we looked alike. That I was just her replacement. The realization was like being plunged into ice water. It all made sense. The tender way he looked at me—he wasn’t seeing me at all. He was looking at someone else. I completely lost my temper. I stormed into Sterling Corp and demanded an explanation. But he was patient, pulling me into his arms and hushing me softly. “It’s all just rumors. Why are you so upset?” “Yes, Bethany and I were together, but that was a long time ago, Mia.” “She came back to the country yesterday. If I still loved her, if you were just a substitute, why wouldn’t I just break up with you and be with her?” I believed his lies. For a little while, I even felt a flicker of confidence. But I couldn’t shake my curiosity. One day, I was working a catering gig and learned that the famous concert pianist performing was Bethany Reed. I snuck a look. She was beautiful. Dressed in a flowing white gown, her long, slender fingers danced across the piano keys. The spotlight caught her from the side, making her glow like a princess. The self-loathing was a tidal wave, and it threatened to drown me. I turned and fled, but I didn’t get far before someone grabbed my arm. It was one of the women who was infatuated with Lucas. She looked at me with a sneer. “Well, look who it is.” “Here to cause a scene?” “So you know you’re the stand-in, and now you’re getting desperate? Look at yourself. You really think you’re fit for the Sterling family? How pathetic.” All eyes were on me. Their jeers wove into a net, trapping me. I couldn’t breathe. But then Lucas was there, alerted by the commotion. He didn’t hesitate. He wrapped his arms around me, shielding me from their stares, and then he tore into the women who had been taunting me. In the middle of that noisy hall, his voice rang out, clear and strong. “Mia Collins is my girlfriend. You have a problem with her, you have a problem with me.” I drew a universe of security from those words. From that moment on, I pushed every doubt aside and forgot all about being a substitute. We had three wonderful years together. On our wedding day, Bethany sent a tasteful gift with her best wishes. When she spoke to Lucas, she was warm and poised, like any old friend. Watching the elegant profile of her face, I felt a pang of guilt, certain that I had wronged her with my petty insecurities. I went home that night, happy, planning what I could get her as an apology gift. I wanted to discuss it with Lucas. I pushed open our bedroom door and froze. He and Bethany were tangled together, their clothes in disarray. On our wedding bed.

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When my childhood crush told me he was breaking up with me because my family was too poor, I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God I was just acting broke, not actually broke. He had no idea my mom made me pretend we were poor because she was afraid he would be intimidated by our wealth. It was exhausting playing poor. Now I finally don’t have to anymore. Chapter 1 Jake Chen was destined to be my future husband. My mom spotted him on the street when he was a kid and immediately declared him the most devastatingly handsome child she’d ever seen—he had to be our son-in-law. To ensure I could snag Jake’s heart early, Our entire family moved from our luxurious penthouse downtown to a rundown apartment next door to his house. Jake and I naturally became childhood sweethearts. After befriending Jake’s family, my mom stopped her regular spa appointments, quit mahjong and golf. She spent her days elbowing Jake’s mom at the supermarket, fighting over discounted eggs and clearance produce. She gave up her socialite life, all for this future son-in-law. I told my dad, My mom was so nuts she’d be canceled by the internet. My dad just quietly pocketed the Rolls-Royce keys. He pulled out the scooter keys and drove me to school. Ugh. My dad is just like me. He has no say in this family. I once asked my mom when I could finally be my true self around Jake. She said adolescence is when self-esteem is most fragile. What if Jake found out how rich we were and got insecure? I don’t know about Jake getting insecure. But I was going crazy. One night, I couldn’t handle it anymore. I marched into their bedroom. I confronted my mom: “Is Jake your secret love child?!” “I don’t care if he is! Just let Dad and me move back downtown!” “We’re willing to accept the secret love child!” The answer was a synchronized beating from both my parents. My butt hurt. Fine. I’ll just suck it up a little longer. Chapter 2 Thankfully, I finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel. The day Jake fell for someone else. After school today, Jake refused to take the public bus with me. “Stella, my family’s old house was demolished. You know that.” “Do you know how much the payout was?” He gestured with his hand. “Thirty million dollars.” “I won’t be taking the public bus anymore.” “You know what that means, right?” Honestly, I didn’t. I replied blankly: “Sure. Let’s take an Uber then!” Jake sighed dramatically. “It’s not about the Uber fare.” “Then what is it about?” Jake’s tone suddenly felt unfamiliar. “My mom said we’re moving out of the old neighborhood in a few days.” “I mean, I’m basically an A8 family now. What about you?” “What about me?” Jake sighed again. “I didn’t want to be blunt. Why are you so slow?” “I believe everyone has the right to pursue better things. You can’t stop me from moving on to someone better, right?” “So, Stella, you get my point?” After all that rambling, I finally understood Jake’s point. His family just got a massive payout. And I, his girlfriend, was no longer good enough for him. He was dumping me. “Fine.” He looked surprised that I agreed so quickly. I got nosy. “Who’s the ‘someone better’?” “Summer Lei.” “I think she’s the most suitable match for me right now.” Oh, the school beauty, gorgeous and from a good family. “Got it.” I pulled out my phone. “I agree to the breakup, but you have to tell my mom yourself.” Jake frowned. “Stella, we’re adults. Why involve our mothers?” My attitude was firm. “She won’t believe me if you don’t tell her.” He sighed again. “Fine.” “Breaking up with poor people is such a pain.” Poor people? Is he talking about me? I dialed the number. My mom was excited when she heard Jake’s voice. “Jake, sweetie, want to come over for dinner tonight?” “Your mom hasn’t answered my calls or texts all week. I wonder what she’s so busy with.” Jake was silent for two seconds, sounding slightly guilty. “Auntie, I called to tell you something.” “I think we need to focus on our studies right now. We shouldn’t be distracted by romance.” “So, Stella and I have decided to break up peacefully.” “What peaceful breakup?!” I screamed into the phone. “Jake, why don’t you tell the truth!” “Mom! His family got rich, and he thinks I’m not good enough!” “He’s dumping me to chase the school beauty!” Jake hung up the phone. “Stella!” This was the first time he had ever yelled at me. “Can’t you be mature about this?” “Why do you have to leave a bad impression on my aunt?” Me: ??? What a jerk. “Whatever. It’s over now.” “I’m officially pursuing Summer starting tomorrow. Please tell the class we’ve broken up.” I watched Jake walk away. I was suddenly glad my mom made me pretend to be poor. How else would I have seen his true colors? But what made me happiest? I finally didn’t have to pretend anymore. And no more riding the public bus. Chapter 3 Today, I splurged and took a private car home. The moment I walked in, my mom interrogated me frantically. “What happened with you and Jake? Did you fight?” I shrugged helplessly. “Can’t you see? His family got rich, and he thinks we’re too poor for him.” My mom was in denial. “No way. Jake’s not like that.” “Do you think… he has a terminal illness and is breaking up with you so he doesn’t drag you down?” I rolled my eyes. “Stop reading romance novels. They’ve ruined your brain.” She insisted. “We’ll spend everything we have to save Jake!” My mom grabbed my arm, dragging me out the door. Jake’s house was right across the hall. After knocking several times, his door finally opened. Jake’s mom looked awkward seeing us. “Oh, you’re home.” “You promised we’d go fight over discounted eggs this afternoon. Why didn’t you answer my messages?” My mom has an incredibly high tolerance for rejection. She didn’t notice that the other party clearly didn’t want anything to do with her. She continued: “Jake called to say he was breaking up with Stella.” “I wanted to know if something was wrong.” Suddenly, Jake’s mom became incredibly snobby. “What could be wrong? Are you cursing my Jake?” “They broke up because he doesn’t like her anymore. What’s the problem?” She was about to close the door. But she added one more thing. “Oh, right, Stella’s mom.” “I forgot to tell you, our old house was demolished. We got a thirty-million-dollar payout.” “We just picked up a Porsche today and are moving to a place that costs fifty thousand a square foot next week.” “So, this is where our story ends. No need to keep in touch.” The moment the door slammed shut, I swear I heard my mom’s heart break. My mom still couldn’t believe she misjudged him. Until she saw that her chat window with Jake’s mom had a red exclamation mark next to it (Blocked). That night, she shook me awake. “Stella, let’s move back downtown.” “The penthouse, the concierge service, the luxury spa. I miss them.” I bolted upright in bed and nodded, relieved. It took forever, but my mom finally saw the light. My dad and I drove the Rolls-Royce straight back to the penthouse that very night. We finally didn’t have to pretend to be poor anymore. My custom clothes, luxury bags, limited-edition blind boxes. I bet you missed me. I’m home! Chapter 4 The next day, I walked into the classroom wearing my limited-edition sneakers. Summer Lei scoffed loudly. The other students looked over. “Stella and Summer are wearing the same shoes.” “It took me one second to guess who’s wearing the fake ones.” “Stella bought knockoffs? No wonder Jake dumped her. She’s so shallow.” “I heard Stella is still harassing Jake, clinging to him even after his family got rich.” “She was wearing eighty-dollar sneakers yesterday. Now she’s in twenty-thousand-dollar shoes? Who’s going to believe that?” Summer played the generous angel. She pretended to be understanding. “It’s okay. Stella probably just doesn’t know about brands.” I slapped her hand away. “Who the hell doesn’t know about brands?” Summer was embarrassed but couldn’t show it. She forced herself to look hurt. “Why are you so mean?” “If you’re mad because Jake is chasing me,” “I just won’t say yes to him.” ??? Who’s mad about that? Jake swooped in like a hero, protecting his potential girlfriend. “Stella, we’ve known each other for years. Don’t I know exactly who you are?” “You know the most about two-dollar street food and seven-dollar instant noodles. You know anything about designer sneakers?” The class erupted in laughter. “I saw Stella arguing with an old lady over fifty cents! She’s desperate!” “She thinks wearing the same shoes as the school beauty makes her one? Or is she trying to win Jake back?” “No matter how hard she tries, the school beauty’s style is still low-budget on her.” Maybe the thirty-million-dollar payout gave him confidence. Jake decided to test me. “Since you claim you know shoes.” “What’s the name of the founder of this brand? What’s his birthday?” The name and model number were on the tip of my tongue. You don’t ask the brand name? You ask about the founder and his birthday? My face was red with fury. Before I could explode, Jake assumed I was humiliated. “Enough. I know breaking up with me hit you hard.” He pulled a meal card out of his pocket. “There’s five hundred dollars on this. It should last you one semester.” Seeing me refuse, he shoved it into my hand. “Stop pretending. I know you need it.” “Consider it compensation for the breakup.” I rolled my eyes and threw the meal card back at him. I sat back down in my seat, only to realize Jake had moved. He moved next to Summer, claiming he was helping her study. But everyone knew his real motive. Jake was gone. No one wanted to sit next to me. But a poor student in the class, Chloe Xie, took pity on me and silently moved to the empty seat. As Chloe moved, Summer leaned on my desk and sneered: “The whole class hates her now. Moving next to her? You know what that means.” Chloe still moved next to me. I asked her why. She said she couldn’t stand Jake and Summer using their money to bully people. I felt slightly offended. It’s still TBD who’s using money to bully people.

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I was sent to live at the rich kid’s mansion. Turns out, my mom’s hard of hearing. She heard “School Bully” as “Star Student.” So, I spent all my time tutoring the jerk. I accidentally forced the failing King of Campus straight into a Top-Tier State University. At his college acceptance gala, the golden boy looked at me, eyes glistening: “I have to thank my girlfriend. She made me truly believe: Believe in the Power of Belief!” Me: ??? 01 My sophomore year, I moved into the mansion of the campus bully. The gorgeous, arrogant trust-fund kid, Ethan Knight, looked down his nose at me: “Don’t think just because you have a decent face, you’re the heroine in some cheesy K-drama.” Me: ?? He elegantly strode down the grand staircase: “Don’t catch feelings for me, okay? I know I’m naturally stunning and totally down-to-earth, but a sparrow can’t date an eagle, right?” He then tripped, hands jammed deep in his pockets, nearly face-planting like a dumb puppy. Good thing I was quick. I caught him in a steady princess carry. The stunned young master, cradled in my arms, blinked his huge, double-lidded eyes. A weird pink flush rose on his pale face. “The Suspension Bridge Effect? That’s some smooth game.” He suddenly scoffed: “Still, pretty cheap tricks.” Me: ??? 02 My mom is mute. She’s the live-in housekeeper for the Knights. The school had recruited me on a full scholarship, which is how I ended up in the city and in Ethan’s class. Mr. and Mrs. Knight were generous enough to let me stay in the staff quarters. They sent the chauffeur to drive us to school together. Ethan protested: “If the students see us in the same car, my seventeen years of pure, untouchable status will be ruined!” He told me not to tell anyone I lived here. He then wheeled out a pricey racing bike from the garage. I thought it was for me. “Thanks.” He hopped on: “I’m not trying to be a gentleman. My six-pack has just been slacking lately. Gotta get some cardio in.” And he sped off. I was three pages into my vocabulary review by the time he showed up. His slicked-back hair was damp with sweat. A dark strand clung to his forehead, like a damp little dog curl. It was honestly gross. I instinctively reached up and smoothed it back. Ethan bit his lip, pretending to be angry: “Ugh! I told you, watch the PDA in school!” But his mouth was twitching like he was struggling to hold back a smile. 03 The students were way friendlier than I expected. I got eighteen love notes by lunch. After class, I was heading back from the restroom when a guy blocked the hallway, demanding I scan his Snapchat code. I told him I couldn’t—my cheap flip-phone didn’t do that. He called me stuck-up and snarled: “Do you know who my dad is?” I asked: “Doesn’t your mom know?” His face went white. The next second, Ethan Knight appeared, holding a Starbucks, and bowed like a butler: “Princess, your coffee.” The whole hallway exploded: “Clear the halls! The Queen has arrived!” I asked him why he made such a scene. He just said he loved watching pathetic losers look terrified. He also added the coffee was from one of his stalkers and he didn’t want it, so I shouldn’t “read too much into it.” I found out later: Ethan Knight was the School Bully. He was so icy and menacing that not a single girl dared to actually pursue him. 04 The manor was massive, with a staff dining area, but the parents insisted Ethan and I eat together to prepare for our college exams. That evening, studying in the staff room, Ethan knocked and handed me a phone. It was the latest Pura80Pro+1TB. He said it was standard for Knight staff and came with mandatory monitoring software to prevent privacy leaks. Since I lived there, I had to use it. I was ecstatic! My first smartphone! I could finally look up study guides! The next day, I saw the chauffeur using an old iPhone. I asked Ethan about it. He said slyly: “You think those guys know how to use all this tech? I had to secretly hack their old phones to install the listening apps. Gotta keep them off the scent, wouldn’t want to tip them off.” I remember thinking, living in a rich family is deep water. I later found out the whole monitoring thing was a lie. He just wanted to buy me a phone. 05 Mr. and Mrs. Knight warned me: “Ethan has a terrible temper. If he’s rude, you tell us.” I smiled: “He won’t be. He’s actually very sweet and kind-hearted.” Ethan said nothing, only constantly peeled shrimp for my plate. Me: “Thanks, you really are thoughtful.” The Knights looked genuinely shocked: “Is this our son?” After that, Ethan became incredibly gentle and considerate. When it got cold and I forgot a jacket, he took off his and gave it to me. I casually mentioned wanting coconut water, and he produced one at the next break. When my mom threw out her back, he snatched the mop from me and scrubbed the entire mansion floor until it was clean enough to ice skate on. I thanked him: “Seriously, you’re the best.” Ethan: “It’s nothing, honestly!” Mr. and Mrs. Knight stared at him, bewildered: “What is wrong with you, kid? Look in my eyes!” 06 My mom, with her hearing issues, signed to me that Ethan was an Academic Whiz. I argued: “No, Mom, he failed his last math test!” She signed back that he was probably just hiding his true power as a form of rebellion against his parents. My view of Ethan changed instantly. I thought I was being too shallow, judging based on scores. A true High-Level Player wouldn’t care about meaningless vanity. 07 When I hit a wall with math, I finally gathered the courage to knock on the “Master’s” door. “Could I ask you about a few problems?” Ethan’s handsome face cracked: “Ask me?” “Yes! My mom says you’re a genius,” I said earnestly, “I want to look up to you and study hard!” Ethan slammed the door. He opened it moments later, took my worksheets, and sat at his desk, snapping multiple photos of the questions. I asked: “Why the pictures?” Ethan didn’t miss a beat: “My apprentice, you don’t know the secrets of the Master. I am recording your path to mastery.” I was touched. “Thank you, Master!” He had wireless headphones in. I asked: “Master, who are you talking to?” He looked offended: “Silence! I’m listening to music! Have you not read the martial arts novels? This is the Art of Simultaneous Learning, the Left and Right Hand Technique! You’ve never seen it?” I was impressed beyond measure: “You are truly amazing!” When he explained the problems, he paused after every single sentence. I got impatient: “I get this part, can you skip ahead?” He tapped my head with his pen: “Such a rough personality! Temper your impatience, or you’ll never achieve greatness.” I humbly accepted: “The Master is right.” 08 After the term finals, everyone was checking answers. I only had Ethan. He scolded me: “Checking answers is the stupidest habit after a test. It ruins your focus.” I mumbled: “…Oh.” To avoid stressing out, I skipped checking answers. When the results were posted, I was dreading it. Ethan tried to reassure me: “There’s a gap between our schools. It takes time to adjust. Don’t worry, your Master won’t fault you.” The scores came out: I was Number One in the class. Top Ten in the whole school. Wait?? Is this a joke? Wasn’t the Master a genius? Why… why did he score dead last in the class?! Ethan was calmly reading a superhero manga: “I’m suppressing my power, lest I shine too brightly. Don’t want the Ivies fighting over me and stressing out the students.” He took a sip of his coffee: “I’m handsome and rich. I have to have one flaw to keep everyone else feeling balanced.” I was full of respect: “Such nobility, sir!” 09 One summer day, the parents and my mom were out. The chef had the flu. Ethan, full of bravado, insisted on showing off his cooking skills. He only managed to chop some chilies before running to the bathroom. He came back, red-faced, doubled over in pain, claiming a stomach ache, and collapsed on the sofa. I insisted on taking him to the ER, but he refused. He kept running to the bathroom, but never seemed to get better. When the Knights returned, they asked why their son looked half-dead. I told them about the chili and the bathroom trip. I rushed to hand Ethan the hottest water bottle I could find: “You have a stomach ache! Maybe your stomach is cold. Hold this!” Ethan: “!!” The Knights stared at him with tragic concern. As Ethan stoically hugged the boiling hot water bottle to his groin, the three of them—Ethan, Mr. Knight, and Mrs. Knight—all screamed in unison: “S-S-S-S-S!” 10 Mrs. Knight later mocked him: “With your cooking skills, you could barely boil water in a microwave, let alone ‘show off’!” I shook my head. He was just being humble, Mrs. Knight! I enlightened her: “Smart people excel at everything; it’s all connected.” Mr. Knight looked confused: “Smart? Who?” I guaranteed them: “Ethan is a fantastic cook. I fully expect him to show off his talent again.” Ethan, sitting next to me, puffed out his chest, completely confident. His nonexistent tail was practically wagging: “You bet I will!” From then on, he spent all his time in the kitchen (I figured he was supervising). Once, I caught him secretly chopping potatoes late at night. He claimed it was “art therapy” for his “highly sensitive” nature. Before school started, I finally tasted his cooking. It was incredible: spicy pork, sweet and sour pineapple… The steamed custard was like freshly unpacked pudding, smooth and jiggly, without a single air bubble. I told them: “See? Ethan is brilliant. Everything he tries, he succeeds at.” Mr. and Mrs. Knight just kept eating his amazing food, their eyes silently filling with tears. Me: ?? Are you from the South? Can’t handle this little spice?

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I’ve walked this earth for three hundred years, a monster hiding in plain sight. I feast on the wicked to preserve my timeless youth, but I have a code: I only consume the truly evil. My world tilted the day he moved in. A detective. He knocked on my door, holding a list of missing persons, and pointed to a face. “Ever seen this man?” I smiled. “Never.” He had no idea that every single person on that list was already inside me. 1. The Hound at the Door I was in the middle of processing the day’s… material… when the doorbell rang. The man had been a domestic abuser. A polished executive by day, a savage beast to his wife by night. She had cried out for help—to community centers, to friends—only to be met with the same cold refrains: “Don’t air your dirty laundry in public,” and “He’s just under a lot of stress.” No one would help her. So I did. I was meticulous, just as I’d been with the hundreds before him. His bones would join the others beneath the ginkgo tree in my backyard, becoming the finest of fertilizers. The doorbell chimed again, insistent, pulling me from my work. I wiped my hands clean, slipped off the blood-flecked apron, and changed into a simple, elegant dress. Only then did I glide to the door and open it. A tall man stood on my doorstep. His features were sharp, with deep-set eyes and a strong nose that gave him an aquiline intensity. A tailored black trench coat accentuated his broad shoulders and long legs. He looked at me with the piercing gaze of a hawk. “Hi, I’m Lucian. I just moved in across the hall.” His voice was a low baritone, laced with an undeniable authority. I offered a perfectly measured smile. “Hello. I’m Selene. Can I help you with something?” Instead of answering, Lucian held out a sheet of A4 paper. It was a printout of missing persons, a dozen black-and-white photos of varying quality, each with a name, age, and date of disappearance. My eyes swept over the familiar faces, my heart a placid lake. “I’m a detective with the city precinct,” he introduced himself, his gaze locked on me, searching for a flicker of reaction. “There’s been a spike in disappearances in this area. We’re canvassing the neighborhood. Do you recognize any of these people?” Maintaining my smile, I took the paper and made a show of examining it. Arthur Wells, 42, suspected of financial fraud, missing for three months. Ah, yes. He’d swindled several elderly people out of their life savings, causing one to die from a heart attack. He tasted of avarice and stale grease. Lila Reed, 35, a notorious bully, missing for two months. She had driven a young girl to leap from a school building. When I found her, she was in a bar, bragging about her “glory days.” Her soul had the sickly-sweet stench of decay. … My fingertips traced over the faces, a chef reviewing her menu. Lucian’s gaze sharpened. He raised his hand and pointed to the last man on the list. “This one is our priority. Kyle Miller. Have you seen him?” The man in the photo was the very same one I had just… processed. I lifted my eyes to meet Lucian’s probing stare, my smile deepening. “No, I don’t know him.” He studied me in silence, trying to peel back my composure to find the lie beneath. After a long moment, he took back the list. “He was last seen near this building. If you remember anything, call me.” He handed me a business card before turning to leave. I closed the door and tossed the card into the trash without a second glance. Back in the kitchen, I looked at my half-finished work on the countertop and found my appetite had vanished. This detective, Lucian, was like a bloodhound with a keen nose. For the first time in three hundred years, I felt a prickle of annoyance. The next morning, as I went to take out the trash, I ran into him again. He was out for a morning run, dressed in athletic gear, a light sheen of sweat on his brow. He stopped when he saw me. “Morning, Selene.” “Morning,” I nodded, ready to move on. “Your trash bag…” he said suddenly, his eyes fixed on the black sack in my hand. “I think it’s leaking.” I looked down. A single drop of dark crimson was seeping from the bottom of the bag, staining the clean pavement. Kyle’s blood. I’d been too hasty, and a shard of bone must have torn the plastic. My heartbeat didn’t falter. I calmly met Lucian’s gaze. “Oh, it must be the leftover beef stew from last night. I was in a hurry when I threw it out.” His eyes traveled from the drop of blood on the ground, slowly, deliberately, up to my face. His stare felt like a scalpel, ready to slice me open. “Is that right?” he asked, his tone unreadable. “Funny. It doesn’t smell like beef stew to me.” 2. Trouble in the Garden “Perhaps my sense of smell is off, then,” I replied, my expression unchanged, before tossing the bag into a nearby dumpster. “If there’s nothing else, Detective, I should be getting back.” I turned and walked away without giving him another look. Back in my apartment, I stood by the window and watched his figure disappear into the morning light. This man was even sharper than I’d anticipated. Over the next few days, I kept “bumping into” Lucian. In the community garden, at the local supermarket, even at my favorite bookstore. He never initiated conversation, but he was always there, just within my line of sight, his hawk-like eyes a constant, silent presence. I knew what he was doing. He was watching me. One afternoon, I was in the backyard watering my ginkgo tree when someone knocked on the gate. When I opened it, Lucian was standing there, but he wasn’t alone. A plump woman I didn’t recognize was with him. The moment she saw me, her voice shot up. “That’s her, Officer! That’s the woman! The night Kyle went missing, I saw her creeping back home!” I vaguely recognized her now. Mrs. Gable from the next building, the neighborhood’s most notorious gossip. Lucian gave Mrs. Gable a brief glance before turning his professional gaze on me. “Selene, you are a person of interest in the disappearance of Kyle Miller. We need you to cooperate with our investigation.” “Me?” I feigned a laugh, as if it were the most absurd thing I’d ever heard. “On what grounds?” Mrs. Gable jumped in immediately. “On the grounds that I saw you! It was almost midnight, and I got up to use the bathroom. I saw her dragging a huge suitcase back home! It looked heavy, really heavy! Kyle was a big guy, over six feet tall. I bet he was in that suitcase!” My gaze turned cold as I fixed it on her. “Mrs. Gable, you can choke on your food, but you shouldn’t choke on your words. Which one of your eyes saw Kyle Miller inside my suitcase?” My stare made her flinch, but with a cop by her side, her courage returned. “Well… I guessed! What’s a single woman like you doing dragging a giant suitcase around in the middle of the night? What else could it be but a body?” What a foolish, venomous assumption. I was done wasting my breath on her. I looked directly at Lucian. “Detective, are you really going to investigate me based on this kind of baseless gossip?” Lucian ignored her chatter. His gaze drifted past me, settling on the flourishing ginkgo tree in my yard. “We’re just asking some routine questions, Selene,” he said, then his tone shifted. “That’s a fine ginkgo tree you have. Must be well-fed, huh?” I felt an invisible hand clench around my heart, but my face remained a placid mask. “It does alright. I use kitchen scraps for fertilizer from time to time.” “Kitchen scraps?” A cryptic smile touched Lucian’s lips. “Something like… bone meal?” The air crackled, thick with unspoken meaning. Mrs. Gable, oblivious to the undercurrent, kept flapping her gums. “Officer, you have to search her place! I’m sure you’ll find evidence! A woman like her, with no history… she’s up to no good, I tell you!” My patience snapped. I’ve lived for three centuries. I’ve met more people than Mrs. Gable has eaten hot dinners. Women like her—leeches who live vicariously through others, their only joy found in gossip and slander—were the one type of creature I truly despised. “Mrs. Gable,” I said, my voice dripping with ice. “You, of all people, should know what kind of man Kyle Miller was. His drunken rages were loud enough for the whole complex to hear. A man like that goes missing, shouldn’t you be setting off fireworks? Why are you so eager to find his supposed killer?” Her face turned the color of raw liver. “What are you talking about! That’s just how some married couples are! What would a single woman like you know about passion?” “Passion?” I scoffed. “The kind of passion that lands someone in the emergency room?” “You… you…” She sputtered, trembling with rage, pointing a finger at me. Lucian cut in smoothly. “Selene, please answer my question.” His eyes were like nails, pinning me in place. “What, exactly, is in your kitchen scraps?” I met his gaze head-on. “If you’re so curious,” I said, my voice a low challenge, “why don’t you grab a shovel and find out for yourself?” I expected him to back down, or at least to go get a warrant. But he just gave me a long, searching look, then turned to Mrs. Gable. “Ma’am, we have your statement. You can go home now.” She left, grumbling under her breath. Now it was just Lucian and me at the gate. “Selene,” he began, his tone softening slightly. “I’m not targeting you. But Kyle’s wife… she’s not doing well. She’s pregnant, and her husband is gone.” I laughed silently. Not doing well? She was probably ecstatic. “That’s her business. It has nothing to do with me.” “You’re sure you don’t remember anything at all?” Lucian pressed. “Nothing.” He stood there for a moment longer, then turned to leave. Watching his retreating back, I didn’t feel relief. I felt a heightened sense of alarm. The hound was closing his net. 3. The Trap is Sprung As expected, trouble arrived on my doorstep. The next day, the property manager, a paunchy middle-aged man named Mr. Henderson, knocked on my door with two workmen in tow. “Ms. Selene,” he said, his face stretched into a sycophantic grin. “So sorry to bother you. We’ve received a complaint from another resident. They’re concerned the roots of your ginkgo tree might be compromising the building’s foundation. We need to have our guys take a look. We might… have to move the tree.” Compromising the foundation? The excuse was so flimsy it was insulting. This building was fifty years old; my tree had been here for less than thirty. I didn’t need to guess who was behind this. “Mr. Henderson, don’t you think that’s a bit of a stretch?” I said, blocking the doorway. His smile faltered. “Well, Ms. Selene, it’s a safety issue. And the complaint came from Mrs. Gable. You know how she is. Our hands are tied.” He shrugged, absolving himself of all responsibility. “And if I refuse?” His expression hardened. “This is a community matter, not a personal one. If you obstruct our work and something happens, will you take full responsibility?” The two workmen behind him clutched their shovels and pickaxes, looking ready to force their way in. I knew then they were digging up that tree today, one way or another. What lay buried beneath it could never see the light of day. I took a deep breath, preparing to use… unconventional means… to persuade them to leave, when a voice cut through the tension. “What’s going on here?” It was Lucian. He was standing off to the side, his face a cold mask as he observed the scene. The moment Mr. Henderson saw him, his demeanor changed instantly. “Oh, Detective! You live here too? We just received a complaint and came to deal with this tree.” Lucian’s gaze swept over the tools in the workmen’s hands, then settled on me. I said nothing, simply meeting his stare, waiting to see his next move. “Dealing with a tree requires this kind of equipment?” Lucian gestured to the shovels. “Are you here to transplant it or to excavate?” Mr. Henderson stammered, “Well, you know… just in case.” “According to city ordinance 34B, trees on community property belong to all residents. Unilateral removal or transplantation is illegal,” Lucian stated, his voice calm but imbued with a chilling authority. “Do you have a resolution from the homeowners’ association? Have you filed the proper paperwork with the Parks Department?” The string of technical questions left the manager completely flustered. “We… uh…” “If not, please leave,” Lucian ordered. “If this happens again, I’ll report it myself.” Mr. Henderson’s face cycled through shades of red and white. He hadn’t expected the new tenant to be so well-versed in the law. He shot me a venomous glare that screamed This isn’t over, then scurried away with his workmen. Just like that, Lucian had diffused the crisis. I looked at him, feeling not a shred of gratitude, only a deepening suspicion. Why had he helped me? “Thanks, Detective,” I said flatly. “Don’t thank me,” he replied, his expression complex. “I just don’t believe in using illegal methods to conduct an investigation.” He paused, his eyes locking with mine. “Of course, when I conduct my own investigation, I’ll be sure to use legal ones.” The threat was unmistakable. “Like a search warrant?” I raised an eyebrow. He didn’t answer, which was an answer in itself. “I’ll be waiting,” I said, before closing the gate. Leaning against the cool wood, I listened to his footsteps fade away. That familiar frustration churned inside me again. He was a stone tossed into the placid lake of my three-hundred-year existence, sending out ripples I couldn’t control. Worse, I was beginning to realize I couldn’t see through him. He suspected me, yet he stopped others from digging up my yard. What was his endgame? That night, I made a decision. I wouldn’t wait passively for him to corner me. It was time to go on the offensive, to create a diversion that would draw his attention elsewhere. I needed new prey. It didn’t take long to find the perfect target: a loan shark named Leo. He had ruined several families, and was currently in hiding after a deal went bad. Conveniently, his last known location was near a different precinct, far from Lucian’s direct jurisdiction. I dressed in black and melted into the night. Finding Leo was easy. He was holed up in an abandoned warehouse with a pair of goons. They were no match for me. Leo dissolved into a blubbering mess, falling to his knees and begging for his life. “Don’t kill me! Please! You want money? Take it all!” I looked down at him, my expression as cold as a butcher’s slab. “I don’t want your money,” I said. “I’m just here to deliver a message. Some people are not to be trifled with.” Then, I snapped his neck. Before I left, I carefully arranged the scene, leaving behind a few calculated clues—enough to link this case to other unsolved ones, creating the profile of a phantom killer, but nothing that could ever trace back to me. By the time I was finished, the sky was beginning to pale. I returned home, took a long shower, and believed I had finally bought myself some peace. But the next afternoon, my doorbell rang again. I opened it to find Lucian on my doorstep, his face as dark as a thundercloud. Behind him stood two uniformed police officers. “Selene,” he said, his voice hard as steel as he looked me in the eye. “You are under arrest for suspicion of involvement in multiple homicides.” He produced a pair of gleaming steel handcuffs.

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The whole world knew I was Nathan Bell’s most hated ex-girlfriend, the top celebrity singer. On a reality show, a young idol casually turned on the car stereo and played the default playlist. It was my song. Two seconds into the intro, Nathan, sitting in the passenger seat, spoke coldly: “Terrible. Skip it.” He skipped. It was my song again. He skipped again. Still my song. Nathan’s face looked terrible. He glanced at the driver and sighed. “Kid, you have awful taste for someone so young.” The young idol hesitated, then weakly spoke: “Bro, this is your car. And that’s your playlist…” Nathan: “?!” 1 Nathan and I are the entertainment industry’s most famous feuding exes. Our track record is legendary. Since we debuted, roughly a third of our songs have been direct disses at each other. I don’t remember who started it. It was just: he releases one, I release one; he releases one, I release one… Hatred is the number one productivity fuel. Stimulated by Nathan, I managed to pump out ten albums in two years. Back when we were dating, only our close friends knew. But nothing escapes the all-seeing eye of the internet. Our lyrics, when pieced together, read like a public argument. #NathanBellAndAlyssaLane: Hollywood’s Pure Hatred Couple #NathanBellAndAlyssaLane: Did They Dig Up Each Other’s Graves? #NathanBellAndAlyssaLane: Why Did They Break Up? How Can They Be This Bitter? These ridiculous, trending topics popped up one after another. Our motto: No peace, only beef. Nathan and I topped the charts for months. Then, at the end of the year, the platform forced us to attend the awards ceremony. The host asked: “To both of you, who do you want to thank most for your success today?” I listed everyone: “My family, my friends, my manager, my fans…” Nathan looked straight at me. “I want to thank my ex-girlfriend for dumping me. She gave me endless inspiration for my breakup songs. She is…” He smirked, a thin, fake smile. “…My muse.” He calls me a “paint-by-number zombie” and “Picasso’s failed abstract project” online, but in person, I’m his muse? The guy is a piece of work. Always passive-aggressive. On the way home, I wrote a new song: Muse is your cheap tears, Packaging lies to cover fears. Voice cracked, career is down, Go home, wash up, and forget this town. My exit killed your drive, New album tanks? No surprise. You deserved the cruel break, I’m gone, no double take. That night, I posted the demo and announced a new album. Fans went wild, tagging Nathan. He finally logged on late that night. He liked my post, then left a friendly, neighborly comment: [6.] [Alyssa Lane, you just wait. ‘Smiley face’ emoji.] 2 Making Nathan miserable makes me happy. I slept great. My manager, Dawn, warned me the next morning that I had a gala to attend. “I hear Nathan will be there. If you don’t want to break the internet, be civil. Put on a friendly face for the cameras.” I thought she was exaggerating. With so many stars, we probably wouldn’t even cross paths. I was wrong. The damn event organizer seated Nathan and me together! I sat down, and a figure quickly dropped into the seat beside me. Nathan was in a midnight-blue custom suit, looking tall and handsome. At first glance, he was picture-perfect. Remembering Dawn’s desperate plea, I forced a smile for the cameras. Fine. I can play nice. “Good evening, Mr. Muse.” “Well, if it isn’t Ms. Rhyme,” Nathan retorted. “Did you suddenly learn human decency? Talking to me now?” See? You can’t give him an inch! The event was live-streamed. The camera zoomed past us, and the comments went crazy: [Muse Bro and Rhyme Sis are together again! Keep the camera locked on them!] [Midnight Blue Suit and Deep Blue Dress! What a gorgeous couple.] [Bro, Sis, please date again! Just for our entertainment.] The industry pros are the worst gossips. Since I walked in, several people had already tried to subtly ask about Nathan. Now, I could feel dozens of eyes on us. Nathan was uncomfortable, too. His ear tips were red. I quietly stared at the table. Wow, this is a very… wooden table. The chat was a riot: [Don’t you guys think Nathan and Alyssa look like they’d have cold, hate-fueled sex?] [What’s hatred? Hatred is just love that hasn’t found an outlet!] [Healthy relationships are nice, but a twisted romance has a unique flavor. You wouldn’t understand!] 3 I couldn’t stand it. I looked around for someone to switch seats with. “Does sitting next to me offend you that much, Ms. Lane?” I glared at him. “Yes. I can’t stand it.” I scanned the room. I didn’t know many people well enough to ask for a favor. Fine. Just endure it. Nathan saw I was defeated and looked smug. “I told you. Stop fighting. You’re destined to be stuck with me.” Psycho. “Lyss, want to swap?” A familiar voice. I turned. Hollywood’s A-list actor, Ethan Cole, was standing behind me. “Yes! Thank you! You’re a lifesaver!” I stood up immediately. “Hey, you—” Nathan instinctively grabbed my wrist. “What? You’ll miss me?” “Ha.” He scoffed, his lips twitching, slowly letting go. “Get away from me. Good riddance.” [She stood up, and he reached out to grab her wrist! Did you see that? He’s panicking.] [I’m dying! Who would dare sit next to Nathan and Ethan? The air pressure is low enough to form icebergs.] [I hear Alyssa dated Ethan, too. Nathan’s face is green. The rumors must be true.] [Rival meets rival. The tension is real.] [I’m so jealous of Alyssa. She only dates hot guys.] Total fabrication. Ethan is my cousin. My parents are overseas, so I grew up with my Aunt’s family. He’s practically my big brother. He starred in my MV years ago, and we got linked by the press. Nathan still doesn’t know the truth. I wasn’t about to tell him. Ethan needed to leave early. “I need to go. Don’t forget my Mom’s birthday party next week.” “Bro, what should I get her?” “Get her a boyfriend. That’s what she wants most.” I pouted. “She keeps pushing me. I haven’t found anyone decent.” “Oh, really?” Ethan paused, stifling a laugh. “I thought maybe you were still hung up on your ex.” “No way! I got over him ages ago!” Ethan cleared his throat and gestured behind me. I turned. Nathan was staring at me with a wounded gaze. If looks could kill, my cousin would be smoking. [I won’t say who is desperately jealous, but you can smell the bitterness through the screen.] [Nathan: I’ll watch you forever! Forever!] [Alyssa, please comfort him. He looks like he’s shattering.] I smiled, narrowing my eyes. I flipped him off where the cameras couldn’t see. Ha! Nathan glowered at me. He turned away, his face pale, his lips a thin line. He didn’t look at me again. Poor little man. Can’t handle a little heat. 4 You can’t get cocky. I was too excited after baiting Nathan and forgot I was wearing four-inch heels. I twisted my ankle. Then, my ride broke down halfway. I was hobbling alone through the dark underground parking garage. What a tragic life. “Well, well. If it isn’t Ms. Lane, enjoying a midnight barefoot stroll?” A Lexus van pulled up next to me. The rear window rolled down. “A stroll? Are you blind? I twisted my ankle.” Nathan saw my swollen ankle and frowned. “No one picking you up? Get in.” I was stubborn. “I don’t need your help. I can call a cab.” “Alyssa, are you getting in or not?” “No.” “Fine. Be tough. Tougher than when you dumped me.” The next moment, Nathan got out and hauled me over his shoulder. “You bastard! Put me down!” I was shocked to be airborne. He threw me into the back seat, roughly. He pulled a first-aid kit from the car. “Take your shoe off.” “Why?” “Stop talking! What do you think? I’m going to steal your heels and sell them on eBay?” I thought, You would. Nathan massaged the swelling gently while applying pain relief cream. It felt good. But it tickled. I instinctively pulled away. “Stop moving. I’ve touched you everywhere else. Why be shy now?” “Shut up.” “Cough, cough, cough…” A loud cough came from the front seat. “Bro, be careful what you say. I’m still here.” I looked forward. “Little Zach, is that you? Long time no see!” Zach is Nathan’s assistant and has been with him for years. When Nathan and I broke up, he got blackout drunk and threw up all over Zach. Zach’s salary tripled immediately. I was, in a way, the reason for Zach’s career advancement. “Long time no see, Sister Alyssa.” Zach is usually quiet, but today he was very talkative, asking about me. Nathan kept glaring at Zach and making strange faces. I was confused. “Are you having a face spasm?” “Oh!” Zach suddenly understood. “Sister Alyssa, do you have a boyfriend right now?” If I said yes, it was a lie. If I said no, I’d lose face in front of my ex. I was trying to figure out an answer. Nathan chimed in, passive-aggressively. “She probably broke up with him. What kind of useless boyfriend leaves her to limp out alone? He ran off, the coward.” I realized they were talking about Ethan. Nathan still didn’t know the truth. “We were never dating, so stop spreading rumors. I hate seeing my face all over the news.” “Oh, so you broke up.” Fine. Let him think that. I looked at my phone and heard a suppressed chuckle next to me. I turned and saw a fleeting smile on Nathan’s face. “What are you laughing at?” “Nothing.” “Yes, you were! I saw it!” “You have eye problems. Go get checked.” “Want to bet? Bet your miserable life!” “Kneel and beg me, and I’ll take that bet.” Zach quietly raised the partition. He couldn’t watch this mess.

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1. The system told me that if this body died, I could return to my original world. This was after I’d failed to capture the hearts of the three male leads. So, I happily ordered a massive carb-loaded feast down in this dark, musty basement. After finishing it, I got out a length of rope and prepared to hang myself. But just as I was about to slip my head into the noose, a barrage of glowing comments flashed across my vision. [Nooooo, sweetie! Your brother is only treating you badly because he feels guilty toward the foster sister! You are his most beloved sister!] [Exactly! Your fiancé is the same way! It’s just because the foster sister saved him. His heart is BLEEDING every time he hurts you!] [And your childhood best friend only feels guilt for the foster sister, too! Don’t give up! Don’t kill yourself! If you die, those three will go insane!] … I had just stepped onto the stool when these bizarre comments appeared before me. Reading them, I felt nothing but utter ridicule. For over twenty years, I had poured my entire heart and soul into trying to win over this world’s three male leads. Yet, because the foster sister attempted suicide that one time, they subjected me to extreme torment, kicked me out into this godforsaken rental room, and caused me to rack up massive debt, enduring daily beatings from loan sharks. Now these comments were telling me that I was the one they truly loved? It was laughable. I ignored them, slipped my head into the noose, and kicked the stool away. The feeling of suffocation slowly crept in. In my mind’s eye, I saw the loving smiles of my parents. It’s finally happening. I’m going home. [Relax, everyone! Big Bro is coming right now! He’ll save her while pretending to be tough!] [Yup, yup! He acts like he hates her, but he’ll be terrified seeing her try to kill herself!] [The foster sister saved the three male leads, so they have to repay their debt! Sweetie, be understanding of them! Once the fiancé and the foster sister have their ceremony, their debt will be fully repaid!] The next second, the rickety basement door was violently smashed open. My brother, Ron Clark, rushed in and pulled me down, a fleeting look of panic in his eyes. I hit the floor hard, feeling a profound regret that I hadn’t made it home to my parents. “Lola, what is this act of yours? What are you doing? Raven is suffering from depression because of you. She’s just having a commitment ceremony with Ethan; it’s not a real marriage! Who are you trying to impress with this stunt? “Do you think anyone will feel sorry for you if you kill yourself? I just feel sickened.” I looked at that face, so familiar yet filled with such contempt for me, and my heart ached with a dull, numb pain. Ron was an illegitimate child in our family. When he first joined us, he was disliked, and kids at school often bullied him. I was the first one to take his hand and tell him he was good enough. I shared everything with him. When he discovered a passion for piano, I argued relentlessly with the elders and finally secured him a spot with a master teacher. He adored a rare, out-of-print music score that I found, but it was in shreds. I stayed up for nights, even damaging my eyesight, just to painstakingly piece it back together for him. He used to smile, carrying me on his back, promising to be good to me forever. “Lola is my sister. I would die before I let anything hurt her.” But that man who made those fervent promises—everything changed when the foster sister, Raven, arrived. 2. Raven often played the innocent victim to frame me. And right when I was about to marry my fiancé, Ethan Hayes, she ran up to a rooftop in a wedding dress and threatened to jump. To appease her, my fiancé and brother threw me out of the Clark estate, set me up with that enormous loan shark debt, and had me blacklisted across the city. For three years, I’ve been hiding daily, constantly subject to beatings. The legs that once danced ballet are now permanently injured, crippled by a compound fracture. [Waaah, Big Bro is actually so sad saying those things! His fists are clenched tight!] [It’s because the debt hasn’t been repaid! I know Sweetie is hurt, but try to think of Big Bro! He only favors the foster sister because of the life debt.] [So angsty! My heart aches for Big Bro.] It was utterly ridiculous. What did their life debt have to do with me? For twenty years, I had been nothing but kind and loyal to Ron. I looked at Ron and smiled faintly. “As you wish, I won’t be a nuisance anymore.” Before Ron could react, I grabbed the fruit knife from the table and brutally slashed my own wrist. “LOLA!!!” Before I blacked out, I only heard Ron’s heartbroken scream. I truly thought this time I would finally die. But no. I was jolted awake by a glass hitting the wall. Opening my eyes, I saw Raven and Ethan standing by my hospital bed. Raven was crying pitifully, while Ethan was rigid with fury. “Sister, please don’t hurt yourself because of me! I won’t marry Ethan anymore.” Raven leaned against Ethan, delicate as a willow, looking like she might collapse at any moment. Ethan immediately steadied her, his gaze aristocratic and cold as he looked at me. “What stunt are you pulling now? Do you realize Raven has called off the ceremony these past few days because of you? She isn’t eating or sleeping well! It’s not even a legal marriage yet! Who are you trying to impress by being so dramatic?” [Ahhh, who noticed the fiancé’s tightly clenched hands? Saying those nasty things to the female lead hurts him ten thousand times more!] [He has to repay the life debt, so he can’t let the foster sister be sad and must comply with her every wish. He just has to inconvenience Sweetie first.] [Sweetie, don’t cry! The sweetness will come after the ceremony! You’ll be the main character in a sweet romance then!] [Who understands the fiancé’s restrained love? The more he loves, the more he holds back! The angst is killing me!] These comments didn’t bring me an ounce of joy. Instead, I was flooded with memories of Ethan. I met him in high school while I was an exchange student abroad for two years. He was betrayed by his father’s illegitimate son, driven overseas, and was so broke he looked like a common beggar. I took him in. He was a spoiled young master who didn’t know how to cook, so I cooked for him and managed the household, restoring him to his former self. My attentive care transformed him from an icy figure to a tender, loving partner. He used to secretly sketch me while I slept and write “My Wife” in French on the margin. Back in the States, I helped him regain control of his family’s corporation. He said he wanted to marry me and give me the grandest wedding in the world. But after Raven’s “life-saving act,” everything shattered. The Ethan who was once so gentle now hated and avoided me, even feeling sick at the sound of my name. He was the one who personally ordered the breaking of my violin-playing hands. All because of a ridiculous, easily disproven “life-saving act.” I couldn’t speak. I just lowered my head. “I don’t want anything. I just want peace. I have nothing left. At least my life is my own.” [Why does Sweetie always say things to hurt the male lead’s feelings?] [I’m sorry, but I think the female lead is being a bit dramatic. The male lead is so devoted and restrained. What more does she want?] These comments, with their endless “Sweetie,” treated me like a tool for their shipping fantasy. In their minds, the male lead’s pain was always the only thing that mattered. 3. Ethan’s eyelashes fluttered. He instinctively reached out to stroke my hair, like he used to. But he quickly pulled his hand back, sneering. “Do you think we’ll pity you for using these tricks? If you want to die, go do it far away. Don’t be a bother here!” Ethan glared down at me, then swiftly summoned people to tie me down. I struggled in panic. “What are you doing?” “You want to die? I won’t let you. I want you to wish you were dead but be forced to live!” They tossed me into a remote psychiatric hospital. It looked familiar because it was one of Chris’s properties. I was strapped to a hospital bed. Chris Walker entered, holding his phone, speaking to someone on the other end in a tone of false sweetness, calling them “Sis.” “Sis, you rest up. Don’t worry, I won’t miss your ceremony with Ethan!” But when he looked at me, his eyes were full of disgust. “Ha. Ethan told me you’re throwing another suicide pity party. Lola, you’re so damn pathetic!” [Wow, wow, wow, here comes the Tsundere Puppy, Chris!] [He’s jealous that Sweetie is always with the fiancé and Big Bro, so he’s intentionally bullying her to get her attention.] [Haha, making a call in front of his sister to make her jealous! Such a cute, arrogant little one!] The “cute, arrogant boy” the comments described was now using the most venomous words to curse me. Chris was my childhood best friend, the little brother who always followed me. When he was fifteen, we got caught in an avalanche while skiing. I dug him out of the snow bit by bit and then carried him down the mountain. Because of this, I suffered severe frostbite and was sent straight to the ICU. When Chris woke up, he stayed by my hospital door for several days and nights, his eyes red and swollen. He watched over me for the entire time I was in a coma. When I finally woke up, he threw himself into my arms, crying and calling me foolish. “I’d rather die than let anything happen to you, Sis.” He was sincere and heartfelt then. I stroked his head and comforted him with a smile. The Chris in my memory was completely different from the one standing here. “You like playing with death? Fine, enjoy your stay in my mental hospital.” Chris waved his hand, and immediately a group of people in white coats entered. They carried syringes and vials, indiscriminately sticking needles into my arm. I struggled desperately, even yelling Chris’s name. Please, save me, for the sake of me saving you on that mountain. But Chris just gave me a quick glance, then promptly closed his eyes and left. They shoved unknown drugs into my mouth and washed them down with water. I closed my eyes in despair, tears streaming down my face. I spent the next few months enduring pure hell. When I was awake, they drugged me, gave me shocks, and fed me expired, moldy food. I was living, but less than human, without the strength to even attempt suicide again. [Does anyone else think this is too much? Why is the male lead letting the female lead be abused like this?] [You don’t get it. This is a must for the angst novel! The more it hurts now, the sweeter it will be later.] [Exactly! The male lead’s pain is so much greater! Can you please feel for the male lead? I’m so over this.] After a full month of torment, I was finally released. Chris walked into the room. Seeing my fragile state, his eyes flickered, and he asked, “Do you know you were wrong?” 4. I didn’t answer. I just closed my eyes. [Sweetie, just apologize quickly! Seeing you like this, Bestie is completely brokenhearted!] [One tear from Sweetie, and Bestie will give you his life! Quick, say you’re sorry!!!] I found it utterly ridiculous. Chris didn’t press the issue and walked over to pick me up. I frowned in disgust and clearly struggled. Chris’s face paled, and he lifted me roughly. “Do you think I want to touch you? Someone as low as a rat in a gutter—I hate even touching you! If Raven hadn’t told me to pick you up, I wouldn’t spend another second looking at your disgusting face.” Chris held me tight, pressing my head against his chest. [Bestie acts disgusted, but he’s secretly thrilled! He finally gets to hug his sister!] [Bestie is going to go back and show off to the other two a million times, like it was nothing, hahahaha!] Did Chris truly love me, as the comments claimed? Perhaps. But his love was cheap and loathsome. Chris took me to a bridal shop where Raven was smiling, trying on a wedding gown. When she saw my disheveled state, a flash of mockery and smugness crossed her eyes. “Sister, you’re here! Come quickly and help me try on dresses. My ceremony wouldn’t be complete without you!” “Chris, you should go now. This is sister-time for us!” Chris frowned. “If I leave, what if Lola bullies you?” “Chris, don’t say that about Sister Lola! I know she didn’t mean it before!” Raven feebly defended me, which only served to cement the story that I was the one who had bullied her. After Chris left, Raven looked at me, a malicious smile curving her lips. “Oh, Sister. You did so much for those three, but what good did it do you? In the end, I’m the only one in their hearts.” Raven’s friend stood next to her, sniping cruelly, “Raven, why bother talking to her? She’s just a discarded mistress.” “Why don’t we let her try on the wedding dress for you? Didn’t she want to marry Ethan so badly?” They burst into laughter, surrounding me and stripping my clothes off, piece by piece. “Look! That scar on her body is so ugly, hahahahaha!” That scar was from when I saved Chris on the snowy mountain. I once complained about it to him. He had promised then that he would never let anyone mock my scar. But now, all my shame was laid bare for the person he cherished to see, stripped of all dignity. I was left in my underwear. They took out their phones, snapping pictures and shrieking with mockery. I desperately tried to cover myself, but they kept pulling my arms away. I don’t know how long it lasted before a sudden roar came from the doorway. “STOP IT!” Ron strode in, frowning at the scene. He took off his jacket and shielded me. “Brother, my friends are just playing a joke on Sister. There’s no harm intended. Please don’t be angry with them, okay?” Raven explained airily, as if she knew Ron would always favor her and blindly take her side. Sure enough, he only glanced at me and said nothing more. 5. [Waaah, don’t be sad, Sweetie. Big Bro actually cares about you.] [Big Bro’s hands are about to bleed from clenching them! He must be so heartbroken inside.] [Big Bro is the one who loves Sweetie the most, and he’ll be the one to spoil her the most in the later plot!] I watched the comments try to justify Ron’s actions with cold eyes. True love doesn’t involve harm. These three men, who had hurt me the deepest, didn’t deserve to speak of love. Ethan and Raven’s ceremony quickly arrived. Ethan and Chris forced me to work as a server at the ceremony, all because Raven had said she wanted to hear my blessing. Raven and Ethan, dressed in their magnificent wedding attire, presided over the ceremony while I stood in the middle, holding a tray, subject to public ridicule. “That’s Lola. I heard she tried to steal her sister’s fiancé.” “She’s so wicked, nothing like Raven.” “She’s still here, shamelessly, at their ceremony. Is she still holding out hope?” Raven stood by the massive cake, holding a serving knife and showing off to me. “Sister, this is the most important day of my life. Can you bless me?” I remained silent for a long time. Ethan frowned and sharply ordered me. “Lola, didn’t you hear Raven speak?” I just stared at the knife in Raven’s hand. I realized I had finally found my way home. If they wouldn’t let me live in peace, then even in death, I wouldn’t let them have peace. “What are you doing, Lola?” Chris, who was standing the furthest away, noticed that something was wrong with me, but it was already too late. I lunged forward, pressing my chest right onto the blade, plunging it in hard. I instantly collapsed, bleeding profusely, feeling life drain away. I was finally going home. As I fell, there were three anguished roars. [WTF, why did Sweetie kill herself?!] [This isn’t supposed to be a sweet romance, is it?!] [Oh no, if she dies, what about the three male leads?!] Raven still gripped the knife handle, screaming in shock and instinctively turning to Ethan for help. But Ethan didn’t even look at her. He knelt before me, stunned and heartbroken, carefully lifting me. “Lola, Lola, wake up. You’re trying to scare me again, aren’t you? Don’t do this. I was wrong, I don’t love Raven, I only love you, truly. I was wrong, I was wrong!” I still had a shred of strength, so I struggled desperately, pushing Ethan’s hand away, and slowly closed my eyes. My soul gradually pulled away from my body. Ethan completely shattered. He pressed his face against mine, his tears mixing with my blood. “Lola, wake up! Wake up! We’ll get married right now, okay? We promised to get married! You can’t break your promise!” Ethan’s voice grew numb and hysterical. He didn’t seem to believe I was dead, holding me tightly and whispering about our past. “Lola? Lola!” Ron, who had just returned from outside, heard the enormous commotion. He then saw my cold corpse. Ethan held me tight, refusing to let anyone touch me. “Ron, what happened to my Lola? What happened to her?! Tell me!” Ron trembled as he touched my face. His voice choked up; he couldn’t speak a single word. “Lola… Sis…” Chris was completely frozen in place. When he finally reacted, he rushed over, knelt down, and stared blankly at me. “Sis, you’re just scaring me, right? How can you die? You can’t die! You promised we’d go back to that mountain! You can’t break your promise! Wake up! Wake up!”

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Three years after my own brother sent me away, our paths crossed at the airport. War had broken out in Adana. I’d been severely injured protecting children in the slums and was being flown home for medical care. He, on the other hand, was about to embark on a round-the-world trip with his adopted sister. Our eyes met. His gaze swept over my injuries, and his voice was laced with the same old disappointment. “I warned you it was dangerous over there. You have no one to watch your back, so stop looking for trouble.” He paused, his expression hardening. “I can get you the best doctor, but first, you will apologize to Nina for what you did.” I lay limp on the stretcher, my gaze drifting away from him. “No, thanks,” I said, my voice a faint rasp. “We stopped being brother and sister a long time ago.” Besides, I had a new brother now, a man of immense power I’d met overseas. Seacliff City’s finest surgeon was already waiting for me. … My body was a canvas of countless wounds, big and small. The pain in my leg was so intense it was bordering on numbness. Just uttering that one sentence made the metallic taste of blood flood my throat. My brother Ethan’s face darkened. “It’s been three years. Are you still holding a grudge?” he scoffed. “You’re this torn up, and you still haven’t learned your lesson?” I tried to retort, but a sharp movement sent a jolt of agony through me, and I sucked in a breath. The two paramedics carrying my stretcher immediately tried to move on, but Ethan blocked their path. “Sophia, is it so hard for you to just say you’re sorry?” The sudden halt of the stretcher sent a blinding, bone-deep pain shooting up my right leg. I bit down hard on my lip, forcing the words out. “I did nothing wrong. Why should I apologize?” Beside him, Nina clutched Ethan’s arm, her voice a soft, cautious whisper. “Ethan, let it go. I was fine a long time ago…” “You’re still defending her?” Ethan’s voice was sharp with frustration. “If she hadn’t slapped you back then, would your heart condition have flared up, taking three years to recover?” He shot me another venomous glare. “Look at you. You clearly got into a fight and got beaten up. And you’re still unrepentant. Sending you to the slums was too lenient!” Adana was a chaotic hellscape, and its slums were no place for a human being. So, naturally, Ethan assumed my injuries were the result of a street brawl. He was wrong. I was hit by shrapnel from a mortar shell. I had thrown myself over two small children to shield them. It didn’t just cost me my leg. I’d lost most of the hearing in one ear, too. I looked up at him, a mocking smile playing on my lips. “You’re right. You should have just killed me back then.” “You want an apology? Maybe in the next life.” Ethan’s face turned ashen, his hands clenched into tight fists. He looked like he was seconds away from striking me. Just then, the airport announcer called his and Nina’s names, a final boarding call for their flight. My paramedics were getting anxious, their faces grim as they tried to push past him. Nina tugged on his sleeve. “Ethan, we should go, or we’ll miss our flight!” Her face was pale, her voice small and frail. That was the look he could never resist. His tone softened instantly. “Alright.” But when he turned back to me, his eyes were chips of ice. “I’ll deal with you when I get back from our trip with Nina.” The crowd swirled around us, and in a moment, he and Nina were gone, swallowed by the flow of travelers. The two foreign paramedics rushed my stretcher outside and into a waiting ambulance. At the hospital, a team of three doctors immediately began examining me, their faces grave. The only American doctor among them spoke in a low, reassuring tone. “Miss Spencer, don’t worry. You got back just in time. We can still save your leg.” “Mr. Lin gave us clear instructions. He wants you fully healed. We’re taking you into surgery now.” Mr. Lin. My new brother, Leo. Hearing his name was like an anchor in a storm. A sense of peace washed over me. I managed a weak nod before they wheeled me into the operating room. The three surgeons surrounded me, and the anesthesiologist prepped the IV. As consciousness began to fade, I slowly closed my eyes. But just then, a horribly familiar voice echoed from outside. “Where are the doctors? My sister’s having a heart attack! Get your best specialists in here, now!” My heart dropped like a stone. But before I could process it, the anesthesia took hold, and my world went black. I thought three years had been long enough to bury the past. But in my dreams, I was right back in that soul-crushing family estate. I was kidnapped at seven. By the time Ethan found me and brought me home, I was seventeen. In those ten years, he had endured my disappearance and then the sudden, accidental death of our parents. The grief shattered him, pushing him into a severe depression that led to multiple suicide attempts. His therapist suggested he adopt a sister. And so, Nina entered his life. Nina was three years younger than me and had Ethan wrapped around her little finger. I returned home at the peak of their bond. Ethan was always warning me. “Sophia, Nina has a weak heart. She can’t handle stress. Stay away from her, don’t provoke her.” “She was there for me through everything. I can’t just send her away, but don’t worry. You’re my only real sister.” I knew how much he had suffered, so I tolerated it. I swallowed my pride, again and again. But behind his back, Nina showed her fangs. At family gatherings, she’d convince Ethan to leave me at home, claiming I didn’t understand the proper etiquette. The welcome-home gifts from relatives and friends? She took them, one by one. If I dared to protest, she’d clutch her chest and gasp about how she couldn’t breathe. As it happened more and more, Ethan’s disappointment in me grew. “They’re just little things, why do you have to make such a big deal? Nina has a heart condition. Are you trying to kill her?” I endured it all, until the day Nina “accidentally” knocked over the bowl of soup I’d made for Ethan. It was a small thing, but it was the spark that lit the fuse of all my pent-up anger and resentment. “Ethan’s stomach is acting up from overworking! If you’re not going to help, at least don’t make things worse!” I slapped her. The next second, she was on the floor, clutching her heart. I’ll never forget the icy glare Ethan gave me. “We’ll settle this when I get back,” he said, before scooping Nina into his arms and rushing to the hospital. I waited, my stomach churning with anxiety. The next morning, he came home, his face a cold mask. He handed me a passport and a plane ticket. “Nina had a severe heart episode. You can’t stay here anymore. Go to Adana for a while, cool your head.” I stared at him in disbelief, tears streaming down my face. “If you send me away,” I screamed, “I’ll never call you brother again!” His face hardened. He grabbed my arm and began dragging me towards the door. “You’ve done nothing but cause trouble since you came back. Do you think you’re some kind of princess? If you can’t get rid of that rotten attitude, then don’t come back at all!” “Here, I can protect you. But over there, you’re on your own.” Even as I sat on the plane, I couldn’t believe he had just abandoned me. I was sobbing uncontrollably, my voice hoarse. “I did nothing wrong! If you send me away, you’re not my brother anymore!” His lips pressed into a thin line, and with one sentence, he shattered all my remaining hope. “Then I’m not.” After just one year back home, I was exiled to a slum worse than any kidnapper’s den. Even now, I don’t have the courage to remember how I survived those three years. I woke up crying, the bright lights of the operating room blinding me. A young intern stood beside me, scalpel in hand, her voice filled with pity. “All the senior surgeons were called away by a Mr. Ethan Spencer. He donated a hundred million dollars to this hospital, so…” Two of my ribs were broken. My body was covered in over a hundred stitches. The intern had managed to close my wounds, but because we’d missed the optimal window for surgery, my right leg was now facing amputation. “Miss Spencer, the bones in your leg are shattered, and the tissue is becoming necrotic. You don’t have much time to decide.” Someone’s voice buzzed in my ear. “Amputation is a viable option. You can be fitted with a prosthesis later.” My head was ringing. Images of the maimed and crippled from the slums flashed through my mind. They hadn’t been fast enough to run from the shelling. They were blown to pieces. We believe in keeping the body whole for the afterlife. I didn’t want to be buried missing a leg. My voice was thick with tears when I spoke. “What happens if I don’t amputate?” “The muscles will atrophy. You could lose your other leg as well. You might manage with crutches for a while, but eventually… you’ll likely need a wheelchair.” I covered my face with my hands, hot tears streaming through my fingers. A moment later, the phone under my pillow buzzed. It was a video call from Leo. I took a deep breath, composed myself, and answered, showing only half my face to the camera, a weak smile on my lips. “Hey, what’s up?” He held up a plane ticket. “Just wanted to let you know, I’ll be there in two days,” he said, his voice etched with worry. “You’re out of surgery, right? How’s the recovery going? I got you the best doctor in Seacliff City, so everything should be fine, right?” I angled the phone away slightly. “It’s fine. Don’t worry.” He let out a sigh of relief, a smile returning to his face. “Joseph and Hank are insisting on coming. They said you saved their lives.” Two familiar faces popped into the frame, waving their hands and chattering excitedly in their native Adanan. I forced another smile, exchanged a few words with them, and then ended the call, claiming I needed to rest. I had just put the phone down when I heard Ethan’s voice from the hallway. “This must be the young lady’s room, right? I was in a hurry earlier and had to pull her surgeons away. I’d like to apologize to her.” The door opened. When he saw me, he froze. “The Miss Spencer in the operating room… it was you?” I gave him a scornful look. “Let me guess. Just like every other time, Nina is perfectly fine now, isn’t she?” Before Ethan could answer, the intern spoke up, her voice urgent. “Miss Spencer, have you made a decision? Are we amputating or not? If you choose amputation, we need to operate immediately!” The color drained from Ethan’s face. “Amputation? What are you talking about?” The intern, after confirming their relationship, explained my condition to him. When he learned that it was because he had pulled my doctors away that I’d missed the crucial window for surgery, his expression became a mask of horror. But then, just as quickly, he made the decision for me. “Amputate. It’s better than losing both legs later!” My fingers clenched into a fist. “No! I choose conservative treatment!” I could deal with the consequences later. I had to wait for Leo to get here. What if he had a way? Ethan’s face was a thundercloud. “Why are you being so stubborn? Didn’t you hear what the doctor said? Amputation isn’t the end of the world. Even if you can never stand again, I’ll support you. No one will dare to laugh at you for being a cripple!” “No!” I shouted, my voice raw. “I’d rather use crutches than lose my leg! We already cut ties! You have no right to decide for me!” “Well…” The doctor looked torn. Ethan’s brow furrowed. He pulled out a stack of documents—his passport, his ID, and even our family registration booklet. He handed the booklet to the doctor, a flicker of relief in his eyes. “Good thing I brought all our documents for the trip.” “Doctor,” he said, his voice firm, “I am Sophia Spencer’s sole legal guardian. Don’t listen to her nonsense.” “We’re choosing amputation. Do the surgery. Now.”

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1 I’m living with the guy who made my high school years a living hell. When the morning light hits the room, I barely shift my arm. The arm clamped around my waist just tightens, pulling me flush against him. Sebastian buries his face in my neck, his voice rasping with that morning gravel. “Did you sleep at all last night?” I freeze for a second, then nod obediently. Before, I might have fought it. But he spent the last three weeks teaching me a very specific lesson: Submission is survival. He grabs my hand, interlocking his fingers with mine, playing with them like they’re toys. He chuckles into my hair, sounding amused. “Didn’t throw the ring away this time?” … He means the diamond on my ring finger. There were two before this. One I hid in the freezer. The other I chucked into the complex’s fountain. I don’t want to think about the consequences of those first two attempts. But the consequence of this third ring is clear: I am going to marry him. The man I fear most in this world. 2 I love shower time. It’s the only time I don’t have to look at him. The only time the memories don’t choke me. But staring into the fogged-up mirror, even the steam can’t hide the marks on my skin. My eyes are bloodshot. I stare at my reflection like a ghost. Then comes the slow, rhythmic knock. Sebastian. “Taking a while in there, Chloe.” “Come out, or I’m coming in.” … He’s done it before. No boundaries. I shut off the water instantly and wrap a towel around myself. … Breakfast is laid out perfectly, but Sebastian doesn’t have time to eat. The news is playing on the TV. He’s tying his tie with practiced, elegant movements. Catching me staring, he leans over and taps my nose. “Like the view? Maybe you can tie it for me next time.” I look away. He just chuckles, unbothered. Then, just to mess with me, he picks up my glass of milk, finds the lipstick stain on the rim, and drinks from the exact same spot. … “Be good. Wait for me.” “We’re fitting for wedding dresses tonight.” 3 Sebastian leaves. I stare at the TV for a long time. Then I pick up the glass he just drank from and hurl it at the screen. The TV screen glitches, spiderwebbing, and the glass shatters on the floor. The crash brings the maids running, gasping. I just curl up in the chair, hugging my knees, and cry. … Sebastian was my nightmare. Back in high school, he was the king of the bullies. He once threw my backpack out of a third-story window. He orchestrated the isolation. Because of him, girls dragged me into the bathroom and slapped me. No one dared to help me. Sebastian is the heir to the Shen Group. His family literally donated the library wing. He led the charge, and bullying me became the class trend. They say he was the dream guy for half the school. To me, he was the demon that kept me awake at night. And now, seven years later. He says he wants to marry me. 4 I still shake when I see him. Old habits die hard. Even after sharing a bed with him for three weeks. No one helped me. My mom found out Sebastian Shen wanted to marry me and basically thanked God. He switched cars today. This one has a spacious backseat. I hate it. The partition is up. The driver can’t see or hear what happens back here. But Sebastian is quieter today. I’m trembling. The AC is on, but I’m shaking like a leaf. He pulls me into his lap, ignoring my resistance. “Chloe, are you really that scared?” His voice is low, teasing my ear. He knows exactly why I’m like this. “We’re just picking a dress. Relax, okay?” I try to stop shaking, but a bitter laugh escapes my throat. Who would believe it? The guy who pushed me into the abyss is now whispering sweet nothings about wedding gowns. 5 The bridal shop is inside a private villa. Crystal chandeliers. Gowns that cost more than my life shimmering on mannequins. I don’t care. I don’t want to choose. I let Sebastian talk to the designer about custom fits. I let the assistants measure me like a doll. The villa has a backyard garden. I’m more interested in that. While they talk, I hike up the skirt and slip out the back door. There’s a gate past the garden. Maybe past that gate is freedom. I’ve thought about running a thousand times. But every time I work up the courage, I realize I have nowhere to go. My mom thinks I’ve hit the jackpot. She told me to stop being dramatic. I sit by the koi pond until Sebastian finds me. “Whatcha thinking about?” He’s looming over me again. High and mighty. I hold out my arm. There’s a small, circular scar on my wrist. Raised, pink skin. “Look. Your cigarette burn.” High school. One day he was in a bad mood, dragged me to a corner, and put a cigarette out on my skin. It hurt so bad I forgot what happened after. Sebastian stares at it for a long time. Then he crouches down. I hate admitting it, but his face is perfect. Like a marble statue carved by a master. If he looked at anyone with soft eyes, they’d drown in them. The Bible was right. The devil has the most beautiful face. The flame of a lighter flickers. He lights a cigarette right in front of me. I flinch, terrified he’s going to burn me again. But he doesn’t. Without breaking eye contact, he presses the lit cigarette into his own wrist. Same spot as mine. He watches the smoke rise, calm as a frozen lake. “Feel any better, Chloe?” “…” I look down. The ash mixes with fresh blistered skin. It looks agonizing. Suddenly, he pulls me into a hug. “Chloe… if only I could take some of your pain for myself.” Fireflies drift over the pond. I stare at the moonlight reflecting on the water. “Sebastian, you’re the one who gave me the pain.” He stiffens. Then, slowly, he strokes my hair. “Then let me atone for it. Okay?” “…” 6 This morning, after Sebastian left, I threw my milk at the TV again. Usually, the maids just heat up another cup and bring it to me. But today, I didn’t want it. I used to love milk. My mom always packed a carton for me in high school. Until one day. Sebastian was sitting on my desk. He loomed over me, casting a shadow. Someone laughed. Someone said, “Let’s have some fun, Sebastian.” He smiled at me and held out his hand. I handed him my milk. He unscrewed the cap. Before I could smell it, white liquid poured over my head. My nose, my collarbones, my uniform skirt. Everything was sticky and wet. I was crying. Everyone else was laughing. “Look at her. Trying to seduce him like that?” “God, Sebastian, you have weird tastes.” He wiped my cheek with his thumb, staring at me. Then he sneered. “Ugly.” … So now, I hate milk. But I hate Sebastian more. When I knocked over the second glass today, the maid almost knelt. “Miss… please just drink it…” I refused. My eyes landed on the landline. I crawled over and dialed the only number it allows. A man answered. Not Sebastian. “Miss Qin?” It was his assistant. The driver. “I need Sebastian.” “He’s in a board meeting, Miss Qin…” “I’m coming over.” I hung up. The security at the villa let me pass. I’m the future Mrs. Shen, after all. I walked straight into his corporate HQ. Up to the top floor. No one stopped me. Only when I reached the conference room did the assistant try to block me. “Miss Qin, you can wait in the lounge…” I shoved the heavy doors open. 7 Sometimes I don’t know what I want. Maybe I just want to drag someone down into the dark with me. Or maybe I want to make such a scene that he realizes I’m worthless. If I’m worthless, I don’t have to wonder if I’m savable. The room is full of middle-aged men in suits. Sebastian sits at the head of the table. He looks out of place—too young, too handsome, too cold. Forty pairs of eyes land on me. Maybe the AC is too strong. I start shaking. Then, I’m being held. It’s the first time I smell smoke on him. Cold and cruel. “When did you get here?” A second ago he was tearing into his executives. Now his voice is soft. … The meeting is paused. He carries me into his office. It’s huge. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. From up here, the people below look like ants. He looks like a god who could crush anyone. Especially me. He tosses me onto the bed in the adjoining lounge. He loosens his tie, red silk slipping through his fingers. I interrupted his meeting. He’s mad. He’s not actually that patient with me. “Missed me that much?” He plays with my hair. I stare at him blankly. “Sebastian, do you have milk?” He pauses. This is his private suite. His shirts and suits are scattered around. He goes to the mini-fridge and pulls out a carton. “We ran out at home…?” Before he finishes, I snatch it. I unscrew the cap. And I pour the entire carton over his head. He just stands there. He could have dodged. He has the reflexes. But he lets the white liquid soak his hair, his expensive suit. I look up at him. Dammit, he still looks handsome. “Sebastian. This is how you poured milk on me back then.” I say every word clearly. … I doubt anyone has ever made him look this pathetic. Milk drips down his eyebrow. He clenches his jaw. Then, he chuckles. He reaches into the fridge and grabs another carton. I don’t realize what’s happening until he unscrews the cap. My eyes go wide. The milk is ice cold. He pours it over my head. I shiver violently as it runs down my chin, into my shirt. It feels colder than I remember. … I heard the cleaning ladies gossiping once. calling me crazy. Saying I’m lucky to marry him. But Sebastian? He’s crazier than I am. He finishes pouring, then gently brushes wet hair from my cheek. “Now we’re the same.” I shove him away. “Chloe, you know it’s not good to make me angry, right?” He grabs my chin. I’m not scared of him, exactly. I just don’t want him angry. I hate the consequences. He carries me into the bathroom. The steam blurs his silhouette. “Sebastian, seven years… why did you come back for me?” My voice is hoarse. I feel like I’m dying. His answer, as always, is silence. 8 He puts me to bed. Tucks me in like a child. I haven’t slept well in days. Someone changed the sheets while we were in the shower. No scent of him. I fall asleep fast. My dreams are fragmented. High school trauma playing on a loop. Half-awake, I hear voices. Maids cleaning the room next door. “You know who that girl was? The one who crashed the meeting?” “Miss Qin. The boss’s fiancée.” “God, she has no class.” “Mr. Shen spoils her…” “Why? I’ve never seen her before a few weeks ago.” “I heard… just rumors… he found her recently.” “Because she looks exactly like his first love.” “He couldn’t get the real girl, so he settled for a dupe.”

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Bored in the middle of the night, I opened a new AI fortune-telling app I’d just downloaded. I typed in: “When will I get rich?” But my thumb slipped, and I hit “RIP” instead. Before I could correct it, the AI instantly replied: “2:00 AM. Mauling by a bear.” I froze, then burst out laughing. A bear? In the middle of the city? Plus, I live on the 23rd floor. Was the bear going to take the elevator? Just as I was about to delete the app, my best friend called, her voice frantic: “Zoey, listen up! The new Himalayan Black Bear at the zoo broke out!” “The tracking device shows it’s right near your place! You have to run!” 1 It was 1:30 AM when I stumbled upon the AI psychic app in the App Store. The reviews were suspiciously glowing: “OMG! So accurate! I bought a plane ticket and fled town that night! Saved my life!” “I got into a fight with a client, and I asked if my boss would fire me. It said no, and she didn’t! Seriously next-level!” Curiosity killed the cat, so I downloaded it immediately. I tapped out a question in the input box: “When will I get rich?” But in a moment of clumsy typing, “rich” came out as “RIP”—as in, R.I.P. I cursed under my breath and frantically tried to backspace the morbid mistake. The AI shot back instantly: “Calculation Complete. Today, 2:00 AM. Death by mauling. Countdown: 28 minutes and 17 seconds.” I paused, then scoffed. Are you kidding me? This is downtown, and the nearest wilderness reserve is a hundred miles away. Besides, I’m on the 23rd floor. Does this bear have a jetpack or something? I rolled my eyes. “What a garbage app. Total waste of time.” Just as I was about to hit Uninstall, my phone vibrated so violently it nearly gave me a heart attack. It was my best friend, Ashley Song. She’s an early bird. Why was she calling me this late? A strange sense of dread washed over me, but I answered anyway. Before I could speak, Ashley’s voice, thick with tears, spilled from the speaker: “Zoey, something awful happened! The new Himalayan Black Bear we got—the one you saw the other day—it broke out!” My breathing hitched. I had a terrible feeling. “What? I thought the cage was locked! Where’s security?” Ashley’s voice was shaky and broken: “I don’t know! All the cameras went down! The tracker shows it’s in your general neighborhood, and it’s still moving!” “Look, I remember you said you were working late tonight. Can you just crash at the office?” “Please, don’t go home. That bear is just… it’s too smart.” I froze, realizing my mistake. I was supposed to work late, but the project got postponed. If I’d known this was happening, I would’ve stayed out! When I didn’t reply, Ashley went silent for a second, then spoke faintly: “Zoey, you didn’t already go back, did you?” Then, she quickly tried to reassure me: “The Animal Control team is on the way, and my little brother, Kyle, the firefighter, is with them.” “Don’t panic, just lock your door tight, be quiet, and turn off your lights. You’ll be fine…” I numbly agreed, my hands and feet turning icy cold. I couldn’t hear a word she said. Panic brought back the memory of the AI’s terrifying prophecy. 2:00 AM. Death by mauling. The image of my visit to Ashley’s zoo a few days ago flashed in my mind. That new bear, a Himalayan Black Bear, was terrifyingly huge. It was sitting quietly in the corner of its enclosure, but its eyes were fixed on me. The thick iron bars looked pitifully thin in front of it. I shivered and complained to Ashley: “Are your zoo cages sturdy enough? That bear is massive, I feel like it could bend those bars with a little effort.” “Also, when it stood up a while ago, facing away from me—that silhouette, it seriously looked like a person standing there. It freaked me out!” Ashley had just laughed, telling me I was paranoid and needed glasses. “These bars are special alloy, super strong. Besides, he’s been very mellow.” “Looks like a person? You’re watching too many horror movies…” Swallowing hard, I felt utterly lost. I was about to ask Ashley how smart the bear was, and if it could figure out an elevator. If it was just wandering the bushes downstairs, maybe I was safe. But before I could speak, BANG, BANG, BANG—a loud, heavy knocking sounded on my apartment door. I instantly went rigid, nearly dropping my phone. The sound was jarringly loud and sinister in the dead of night. Ashley heard it too, all the way through the phone. She urgently whispered: “Zoey, what was that? What’s going on?” 2 I stood frozen, covering my mouth, terrified to make a sound. Survival instinct eventually overwhelmed my fear. I pressed myself against the wall and slowly crept to the door, stood on my tiptoes, and pressed one eye to the peephole. In the dim hallway light, a huge, bulky figure was blocking the door, almost filling the entire peephole. It was wearing a bright yellow and blue delivery uniform, a helmet pulled low, making it impossible to see the face. A powerful, musky, animal smell seeped through the door crack. I gagged, fighting the urge to vomit. Just then, a robotic voice, distorted by static, came from the hallway: “Your delivery is here. Please open the door…” Did my boyfriend, Matt, order me food? But through the peephole, the hulking delivery guy didn’t have anything in his hands! Suddenly, Ashley’s hushed voice came through the phone: “Zoey, don’t open it! It has to be the bear!” “It’s incredibly smart, and it can mimic human voices! Step back, get away from the door!” I gasped, my blood running cold. My legs buckled, and I nearly collapsed. I scrambled backward, crawling back into my bedroom. Is this it? Is this the bear from the AI’s prophecy? The one that’s going to kill me? It was almost 2:00 AM. I gripped my phone tight, my voice shaking uncontrollably. “Ashley, what do I do? It’s knocking and… and talking…” “When is Animal Control coming? What if it breaks the door down?” Ashley’s voice was tearful but she was trying to sound steady: “Soon! My brother Kyle said they’re close to your apartment building—ten minutes max!!” “Zoey, listen to me. That bear is smart and strong, but it shouldn’t be able to break through a steel security door. Just don’t open it, and it can’t get in!” “Find a sturdy place to hide! Kyle has tranquilizer guns, they’ll stop it!” But I was terrified. The knocking stopped abruptly. Outside the peephole, it was pitch black. I couldn’t see a thing. What was it doing? Looking for another way in? I couldn’t just sit here and put all my faith in a rusty security door and a slow-moving rescue team. My mind raced back to that creepy AI app. If it could predict my death, could it maybe tell me how to survive? I remembered a reviewer saying the app helped them escape danger. What did I have to lose? Desperate times. Even if there was only a one-in-a-million chance, I had to try. I opened the app again and typed in a new question: “There’s a bear outside my door! How do I survive? Tell me now!” The AI replied instantly: “Self-Rescue Plan Generated.” “Plan A: Create massive noise to attract neighbors’ attention and trigger mass intervention.” “Plan B: Attempt to climb from your window onto the adjacent balcony.” “Plan C: Use household flammables to create a makeshift incendiary device for deterrent throwing.” 3 Create noise to attract neighbors? It’s the middle of the night. Most of my neighbors are 9-to-5ers who are fast asleep. Even if someone wakes up, who’s going to come out and face a giant beast that can stand upright and mimic human speech? What if it just makes the bear angrier? Climb to the next balcony? I’m on the 23rd floor, it’s dark outside, and it’s starting to rain. I get dizzy just looking down. Climbing out there is just a slow way to jump. As for the incendiary device, I have half a bottle of cheap vodka and a few cans of hairspray. But even if I make a Molotov cocktail, how do I throw it with a security door in the way? And what if I don’t scare it off and accidentally set my own apartment on fire? This isn’t a rescue plan; it’s a death warrant! This AI isn’t trying to help me; it’s pushing me straight into more danger! As I frantically paced, a CRASH came from the other side of the door. Not knocking—it was charging! The bear was hitting the door! The impact was huge. My rusty security door was rattling violently. It wouldn’t hold for long! I couldn’t hold back a scream. Ashley yelled into the phone: “Zoey, what’s wrong!” I choked back tears: “It’s… it’s hitting the door…” “Ashley, where’s Kyle? That bear… it’s going to break in…” Ashley quickly reassured me: “Almost there! My brother says they’re downstairs at your complex! Zoey, you have to hold on…” Before she could finish, the phone gave a low battery warning. Then, the call disconnected. The terrifying impact noises from the hallway stopped. The silence was deafening. A heavy, slow walking sound moved away from my door. A small spark of hope flared in my chest. But the quiet lasted only for a few seconds. A short, choked-off grunt, like someone being throttled, came through the door gap. Then, a thick, coppery smell of blood. Did Kyle and the rescue team subdue the bear? I summoned my courage, crept back to the door, and whispered: “Kyle? Is that you?” Silence. Then, a chilling sound broke the quiet. Crunch, slurp… It was the sound of teeth tearing flesh and bone, of chewing! Something warm and viscous began to seep under the door. My stomach churned. I clamped a hand over my mouth, my body shaking violently. My pajamas were instantly soaked with cold sweat. Kyle, Ashley’s little brother, the firefighter, who used to call me his big sister. Did the bear just eat him? I collapsed onto the floor, sliding down the wall. Despair and terror were drowning me. It was five minutes to 2:00 AM. Am I really going to die, just as the AI predicted? My face was ghostly pale. I stumbled toward the window, ready to follow the AI’s terrible advice and climb. If I was going to fall, at least this way would be quicker. Just then, my phone vibrated again. I looked down. It was a notification from the couple’s app I shared with my boyfriend, Matt. It showed that the distance between us was rapidly shrinking. Less than 500 yards. He was supposed to be out of town on a business trip. Why was he here? Then, the phone rang. 4 Realizing Matt might be downstairs, I snatched the call. Before he could say anything, I screamed: “Matt! Don’t come up! There’s a bear in the hallway!” “It’s really smart, and it mimics human voices! If you come up, you’ll be killed!” Matt was silent for a moment, then sounded annoyed: “Zoey, are you half-asleep? Where would a bear in the city come from, let alone one that talks?” “I cut my trip short and came home early. I figured you’d be up, so I brought your favorite takeout. I wanted to surprise you, and I’m at the elevator, and you’re pulling this on me?” “Tell me the truth—do you have someone else in there, and you don’t want me to come up?” I was hysterical, tears streaming down my face: “No, I don’t!” “Matt, you have to believe me! I’m telling the truth! Ashley can confirm it—her zoo’s bear escaped! It’s right outside my door, and it was ramming it!” “Ashley’s brother is already…” The sheer grief made it impossible to finish the sentence. But Matt scoffed. He didn’t believe me: “Ashley Song? She was trying to set you up with Kyle before! Why would I trust her?” “Zoey, we’re about to get engaged! And you’re making up ghost stories in the middle of the night, trying to make me look like an idiot!” “Are you hiding some random guy in there? I’m coming up right now to see what that asshole looks like!” I shouted in desperation: “No! If you don’t believe me, I can show you proof!” “The news about the escaped bear is already trending! I’ll send you a screenshot right now!” As fast as I could, I sent him the news link and a photo. Matt was quiet for a few seconds. His tone finally softened a bit: “I saw the news, but Zoey, I’m your boyfriend. How can I let you face danger alone?” “Don’t worry, I have my stun gun in the car. I want to see how tough this bear really is!” I was terrified: “Matt, are you insane? That bear is unbelievably smart and strong! You’ll be killed if you come up!” But Matt wouldn’t listen: “No. I can’t leave you. Wait for me!” Then, I heard the sound of the elevator door opening. I was furious, almost fainting: “Matt! Listen to me…” The line went dead. I sank to the floor, my mind blank. The crunching sound outside had stopped. It was silent again. Time crawled by. I clutched my phone, dialing Matt’s number over and over. No connection. Just when I was giving up hope, Matt finally called me back. I quickly answered, wiping my tears, and cried out: “Matt, you scared me to death! I thought the bear got you!” There was a moment of silence on the other end, then Matt’s familiar, joking voice: “See? I told you. How could there be a talking bear in the city? Only you would fall for it!” “Ashley was just playing a cruel prank on you. There’s nothing outside.” “Zoey, open the door. I brought your favorite Lobster Mac and Cheese…” I froze. The tears in my eyes instantly dried up. A prank? There was no bear outside? Was this all fake? Was Ashley really just messing with me? But if it wasn’t a joke, and there really was a bear, how could Matt talk to me so calmly? A huge weight lifted off my chest. I sighed in relief, ready to unlock the security door. Just then, an unknown number called me. I answered, confused. Ashley’s urgent voice came through the line: “Zoey, don’t open the door! I’m with the Animal Control team hiding in the stairwell! That person outside is not Matt!”

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