Category: English

My eight-year-old son, Mason, deliberately dumped a bucket of water from the second-floor balcony, soaking his classmate below. By the time I rushed to the school, breathless and panicked, he was still defending himself. “Mom, I didn’t mean to! My hand just slipped. You have to believe me.” I nodded slowly. Ignoring the burning, angry glare of the other boy’s mother, I spoke to my son, keeping my voice gentle. “Go down to the courtyard and wait for me.” Five minutes later, I stood on that same balcony. I lifted a basin filled to the brim with ice-cold water, aimed for my son standing below, and dumped the whole thing on his head. 1 Before Ms. Carter sent me the security footage, I was holding onto a shred of hope. You always want to believe your kid is the sweet one, the one who listens, the one who only has the occasional rebellious streak. You don’t want to believe they’re capable of malice. But the moment I clicked play on that video, I knew I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. The footage was crystal clear. Mason was supposed to be helping tidy up the classroom. Instead, he filled a small bucket, wobbled over to the second-floor railing, and stood there. He tipped onto his toes, peering over the edge, waiting. You could see the hesitation. He looked down, then back at the bucket. But then, he made up his mind. In a split second, he hoisted the bucket and dumped it directly onto a classmate’s head as the boy walked by underneath. The text bubble from Ms. Carter popped up a moment later, a wall of text: [Mrs. Miller, Mason is at a critical developmental stage. Mental health and behavioral issues are serious. Unlike grades or a fever, psychological issues hide deep inside. We need to communicate and solve this immediately before it gets worse.] My chest tightened. She was politely telling me my son was disturbed. [Please come to the school this afternoon. regardless of the ‘why,’ Mason was in the wrong. He needs to apologize to the other student.] I typed back instantly, my fingers shaking. [Absolutely. I’ll be there. Is the other child okay? Do I need to cover a doctor’s visit?] Even in summer, getting doused with water from that height is a shock to the system, both physically and emotionally. [The student cried for a while, but his parents picked him up to change. He seems physically okay. His parents will be back this afternoon for the meeting.] [Okay, Ms. Carter. Thank you. I’ll be there at 5:00 PM sharp.] I took a deep breath, trying to steady my heart rate. My husband, Grant, and I had always been overachievers. Top of the class, Ivy League, the works. Mason was our only child. Grant had massive expectations for him, running a tight ship when it came to academics. Since kindergarten, Mason had been at the top of his class. Teachers loved him. He was sunny, helpful, the kid everyone wanted to be friends with. That’s why this act of bullying terrified me. It was so out of character. I almost forwarded the video to Grant. But I hesitated. He’d been pulling all-nighters working on his tenure review and research papers, barely sleeping. I decided to handle it myself. I checked the time and headed to the mall first. I needed to buy the other kid a new outfit. Whether the parents accepted the apology or not, I had to show that we were taking this seriously. I pulled up the class photo, showed a sales clerk the victim’s size, and bought two high-end outfits. I picked the most expensive options without blinking. Then, I drove to the school. My son did something wrong. As his mother, I couldn’t be late. I wouldn’t give them another reason to be angry. 2 School had just let out when I pulled into the lot. I walked into the main office at the same time Ms. Carter was walking in. Behind her trailed two boys. One was Mason. The other was the victim, Liam. The second Mason saw me, he dropped his head. I looked away, staying silent. Ten minutes later, Liam’s mom rushed in. She zeroed in on me immediately. “You’re Mason’s mom?” I nodded, keeping my expression open and remorseful. “I am. And I am so incredibly sorry. My son hurt your son, and as his mother, I want to apologize first.” I handed her the shopping bag. “Liam’s clothes got soaked, and I know that ruined his day. These are new. It’s a small gesture, but please accept it. Mason was wrong. I’m going to handle this strictly. But I also want to hear from you—whatever you need to make this right, we will do it.” Liam’s mom blinked, caught off guard. She clearly expected a fight, not a humble apology. She took the bag, her expression softening but still wary. “Look, boys roughhouse. I get it. But pouring water from a balcony? That’s dangerous. It’s too much.” “It was completely out of line,” I agreed quickly. “Again, I am so sorry.” She sighed, nodding. “I accept your apology.” She turned to her son. “Liam, do you accept the apology?” Liam nodded, but his eyes darted nervously toward Mason. I turned to my son, who hadn’t said a word. “Mason. Come here. Apologize to Liam and his mother.” Mason looked up at me, his lip trembling, then looked down at his sneakers. “Mom, I don’t want to. I told you, I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. My hand slipped. You have to believe me.” The air in the room instantly turned ice cold. Liam’s mom, who had just calmed down, flared up again. “Excuse me? The teacher saw it. The security cameras saw it. My son didn’t even touch you, and you’re standing there lying about it?” Ms. Carter jumped in, trying to de-escalate, offering Liam’s mom some water. I stepped forward and crouched down to look Mason in the eye. “Mason, I watched the tape. I asked Ms. Carter to ask the other kids because I wanted to be sure you weren’t being framed. They all confirmed it. You did it on purpose. Why are you still lying?” Mason’s head sank lower. His legs were shaking. He was gripping the hem of his t-shirt so hard his knuckles were white. I knew my son. He was terrified. My voice remained calm, but I was vibrating with nerves. “Mason Miller, I am giving you one last chance. Apologize to your classmate.” The silence stretched out, agonizingly long. Finally, Mason choked out a sob. “Mom, why don’t you believe me? I didn’t mean to!” I closed my eyes. When I opened them, I ignored the hateful look Liam’s mom was giving us. I nodded. “Okay, Mason. Go downstairs to the courtyard. Stand right under the balcony and wait for me.” I watched his small back retreat out the door. Then I turned to Liam’s mom. “My child soaked yours. He refuses to own up to it. I think it’s only fair he understands exactly how that feels.” Liam’s mom looked confused. “What do you mean?” “Come with me,” I said. Two minutes later, I stood on the balcony with a basin of water. Mason was standing right where I told him to. I felt sick, but I didn’t hesitate. I tipped the basin and splashed the cold water directly onto my son. 3 Mason shrieked, clutching his wet head, looking up at me in total disbelief. Ms. Carter gasped, her hand covering her mouth. She wanted to stop me, but it was too late. Liam’s mom stared at me, jaw dropped. I turned my back on the balcony and faced her again. “On Monday, Mason will give Liam a proper, sincere apology.” She waved her hands awkwardly, suddenly embarrassed by the intensity of the punishment. “It’s… look, they’re just kids. He’s been punished enough. We… we don’t blame him anymore.” I crouched down to Liam’s level. “Liam, honey, are you still angry?” He shook his head. He thought for a second, then said, “Ms. Jenna, Mason is actually my best friend. He usually helps me. Last time I was sick, he did my class chores for me.” I waited patiently. “Go on.” “I was just mad he soaked me. I felt embarrassed. But I don’t hate him.” I patted his shoulder. “Mason is lucky to have a friend as forgiving as you.” Liam nodded. Then he lowered his voice, glancing at his own mom. “Ms. Jenna… I think I know why he did it.” I froze. “Why?” Liam looked nervous, but his mom nudged him to speak. “Because of the soccer tryouts. I beat Mason in the prelims. Mason told me this match was super important. He said if he didn’t get first place, his dad would be furious.” My brow furrowed. I didn’t know anything about this. Liam was getting worked up now. “His dad told him he has to be number one in school and number one in sports, or else he’s not a ‘good son.’ Last time we were changing for gym, me and the guys saw marks on Mason’s back. Like, red lines. I think his dad hit him…” My temples started throbbing. Liam’s mom lightly tapped her son’s arm. “Liam, don’t make up stories.” She looked at me apologetically. “Kids talk, you know how it is. Don’t take it to heart. It’s getting late, we should go.” I forced a smile. “Right. Drive safe.” After they left, Ms. Carter looked out the window at my shivering son, then turned to me. “Mrs. Miller… does Mason’s father actually talk to him like that?” She chose her words carefully. “He’s young. If a parent pushes too hard, or uses fear to motivate… it twists a child’s thinking.” “Also…” She hesitated. I nodded, cutting her off gently. “I understand. I’m going to have a very serious conversation with his father tonight.” 4 I drove home in silence. Mason sat in the back, head down, shoulders shaking. “Why are you crying?” I asked, pulling the car over to the curb. “Is it because I poured water on you? Or is it something else?” He didn’t answer. I rubbed my temples, exhaustion washing over me. “Mason, you know I think you’re an amazing kid, right?” “And I don’t mean because you get A’s. I mean because you’re generous, and kind, and you help people. You respect us.” I looked at him in the rearview mirror. “Sometimes I ask myself… if you got bad grades, would I still love you?” Mason looked up, his face streaked with tears. “I would,” I said softly. “Because you are my son. Loving you is my instinct. It’s my job. It’s not a reward for performing well for the neighbors.” Fresh tears welled up in his big eyes. He wiped them away furiously with a tissue. “When I was upstairs, Liam told me something. He said if you admit you were wrong, he still wants to be your best friend.” I turned in my seat to face him. “Do you know why he’s willing to forgive you?” Mason shook his head, sniffing. “Because before today, you were good to him. When he was sick, you helped him. When he twisted his ankle during the fire drill, you slowed down to help him down the stairs. That kindness built a bank of trust. You made a withdrawal today, Mason. You hurt him. But he remembers the good version of you. Now, do you still think you weren’t wrong?” “Mom…” Mason broke down, sobbing loudly. “I’m sorry. I know I was wrong.” “Okay,” I said, my voice trembling. “On Monday, you need to tell him that.” “I will.” I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Okay. That part is settled. Now we need to talk about the other thing.” Fear flashed across Mason’s round face. “You poured water on Liam because you wanted him to get sick so he’d miss the finals on Sunday, didn’t you?” Mason froze. He tried to shrink into the leather seat, avoiding my eyes. “Why would you think like that?” Silence. I took a deep breath. “It’s because of Dad, isn’t it?” “Because Dad told you if you aren’t the best at everything, he won’t love you anymore… or worse.” I closed my eyes, feeling sick. “He’d punish you, right?” “Tell me,” I said, enunciating every word. “Do not lie to me.” Finally, Mason nodded. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m just not good enough. That’s why Dad gets mad.” I bit my lip so hard I tasted copper. My hands were shaking on the steering wheel. “No,” I reached back and touched his knee. “That isn’t true. Dad put impossible, cruel pressure on you. You have nothing to be sorry for.” My voice cracked. “Dad is the one who should be sorry.” Mason picked at his fingers nervously. “But Dad… Dad never says sorry.” I looked at the red light glowing through the windshield. I hit the blinker and made a U-turn. “Mom? Aren’t we going home?” “You’re going to stay at Auntie Sarah’s for a few days,” I said, my voice scarily calm. “We aren’t going back until your father apologizes to you.”

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When my crush’s family went bankrupt, I didn’t abandon him. I practically bought Liam Vanderbilt. But his heart belonged to his “white moonlight,” the girl who got away. He didn’t like me. No touching, no looking, and definitely no dessert. Every time I said the wrong thing, he’d threaten to leave my mansion. After he stormed out again, I did what I always did: sent an apology gift to his dingy rental apartment. But ten days passed, and he didn’t come back. Just as I was starting to panic, a wall of floating text—bullet comments—appeared before my eyes. “OMG, the female lead still doesn’t realize she sent the package to the wrong guy?” “She mistyped one digit on the apartment number and sent it straight to the poor scholarship student!” “This is the first time the gloomy villain has ever received a gift in his life, isn’t it?” “There’s a black card with $200k inside! I’m crying. Silas was about to drop out of school… now he can pay tuition.” … “The male lead is kinda pathetic though.” “Waiting for his sugar mama in that rental, eyes red from crying, and she never came.” “He thinks he’s been abandoned!” Chapter 1 Liam Vanderbilt ran away from home again. All because I accidentally knocked over the watch Clara gave him. In a fit of rage, he packed his bags and took the bus back to his old family home in the suburbs. It was the only thing his father left him before committing suicide after the Vanderbilt empire collapsed. A tiny, 500-square-foot studio. The location was terrible—basically the slums. Surrounded by thugs and drifters. Liam couldn’t stand living there, but he’d been a prince too long. He was stubborn and never bowed his head. Every time, I was the one who caved, begging him to come back to my villa. This time was no exception. I looked at my phone. My number was blocked. I opened the shopping app and started ordering gifts. Sneakers, gaming keyboard, mouse, headphones… all the things Liam liked. I also ordered a bouquet of sunflowers, his favorite. Inside, I tucked a bank card and a confession note from the florist. Usually, when I apologized this hard, Liam would unblock me within a week. Then he’d begrudgingly let me pick him up. But this time… It had been over ten days since I sent the package. Silence. Not a peep. It was like he decided to freeze me out completely. Not a single text. Chapter 2 I was confused. What was going on? Did Liam really decide to cut ties with me? I couldn’t sit still anymore. I drove out to the suburbs. It was a cluster of dilapidated apartment buildings. I parked and followed the address old Mr. Vanderbilt left me, searching door to door. I turned the corner to Building 5. Suddenly, I saw a boy walking out, holding a bouquet of sunflowers. It was the exact brand I ordered. And he was wearing the T-shirt I mailed to Liam a few days ago. …What the hell? Did I run into a thief? Or did Liam throw away my gifts, and this guy picked them up? I got out of the car and marched over. I was about to yell, but before I could open my mouth, a barrage of text floated across my vision. “Holy crap, the female lead still doesn’t know she sent the gifts to the wrong person!” “It’s because her phone glitch wiped her address book! She mistyped a digit and sent it straight to the villain’s house!” “Ugh, does the villain really live this poorly? His place looks even worse than Liam’s!” “It’s like 200 square feet. He shares a kitchen with the neighbors…” “Yeah, didn’t you know? The villain is dirt poor, an orphan, bullied since childhood. This is literally the first gift he’s ever received.” “There’s a black card with $200k in there. I’m sobbing. Silas was about to drop out, but now he can pay tuition.” … Wait a minute. What? Silas? Silas Thorne from my school? The super genius who’s always top of the class? How is he the villain? Chapter 3 I froze. I kept reading the comments. According to the original storyline, Silas was supposed to drop out. He was brilliant but destitute. Even with scholarships, he had a sick grandmother and a younger sister to support. He gave up his guaranteed admission to an Ivy League school to work in a factory. Then a fire broke out. A beam fell and crushed his leg. He used half his compensation money for his family and the other half to start a business. He was capable and hardworking. Within a few years, he became a tech tycoon. His future was bright until a competitor framed him, causing him massive losses. That competitor? Liam Vanderbilt. After Silas dropped out, Liam took his spot at the Ivy League. As the “male lead,” Liam’s life was smooth sailing. He made rich friends and got investments from industry bigwigs. Even though his products weren’t as good as Silas’, his connections crushed him. Eventually, Silas snapped. He thought about how Liam had everything only because he, Silas, had to drop out. He went “black.” He became a villain. He started stealing Liam’s projects, contracts, employees, investments… He became a terrifying, unhinged tycoon. I took a deep breath, trying to process this. Just as my brain was melting, another comment popped up. “Lol, look at the female lead’s innocent face.” “She doesn’t know that after the villain turns evil, he not only steals the male lead’s money but also his girl!” “He’s gonna lock her up in a dark room and go crazy. The censors won’t even let us see what happens next!” … EXCUSE ME? Steal me? What did I ever do to him?! The comments seemed to sense my breakdown. “It’s because she was too good to the male lead and ignored the villain. Silas started getting jealous of Liam back then…” “Sigh. If our Spring had been nicer to the villain, maybe she wouldn’t end up in the dark room later. Boohoo.” … I turned my head mechanically. I looked at Silas Thorne, who was hugging my gifts and walking toward his rundown building. A group of neighbors, boys his age with dyed hair who looked like troublemakers, surrounded him. They whistled and teased him. “Ooh, look at Silas! Getting gifts again?” “Who sent it? I’m dying to know!” “Must be a secret admirer. Tsk.” “Isn’t there a card in the flowers? Lemme see!” One of them grabbed Silas by the shoulder and snatched the sunflowers. He ripped out the card. And read it out loud— “I’ve sent you so many things. When will you realize how I feel?” “Can you just…” “Like me back a little bit?” “- Spring.” Chapter 4 “It’s a confession!!!” The gang of punks screamed. They pushed and shoved, acting like they’d seen a ghost. Everyone wanted to see the card. “Who is Spring?” “Is she a nerd like Silas? Some boring good girl?” Immediately— Silas kicked the guy hard. He snatched the card back. The crowd erupted in jeers. A blonde kid whistled. “You don’t know Spring? Spring Vance! The heiress!” “Super rich! Her family does real estate, right? Worth billions!” “I saw her driving an Aston Martin last time. So cool!” “Really? What does it look like?” “Like… hey, isn’t that one right there?” …Silence. Everyone turned to look at me. I didn’t have time to hide. Our eyes met. Silas was still holding the sunflowers. When he saw me, his face turned bright red. The punks exploded. “Spring Vance!” “That’s the heiress!” “Holy sh*t, she actually came here to find Silas!” “Silas, why are you standing there like a log? Go over there, you nerd!” “Don’t keep the lady waiting!” “Go!”

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I was taking my mom to a U-Pick farm for fresh cherries when she suddenly dropped a bomb. “You know, you’re actually kind of cheap.” I looked up, a bit slow on the uptake, and stared at her. “Why would you say that?” “I mean, sure, you have money, but sometimes you really don’t measure up to your sister.” “To put it plainly, you’re a penny-pincher.” She emphasized the words, her tone dripping with righteous indignation as she repeated herself. “Sometimes you look generous. You give me cash, you buy the groceries and household stuff. But you never take me out to eat at nice restaurants. Your sister is different. She always treats me.” It hit me like a ton of bricks. That lunch Chloe paid for two weeks ago. That was still stuck in her craw. She just couldn’t let it go. 1 Two weeks ago, Dad got into a car accident and broke his arm. I was the one who rushed him to the ER, ran up and down stairs handling insurance, paying the deductibles, and hiring a home health aide. By the time my little sister, Chloe, finally showed up, I had basically done all the heavy lifting. So, Chloe decided to treat us to a meal at a Panera Bread across the street from the hospital. At the time, Mom’s face was already dark. She kept shooting me looks, hinting heavily: “You’re the big sister.” I sighed, resigned to my fate, and reached for my phone to pay. The bill was maybe fifty bucks. Tops. I really didn’t want Mom sulking over fifty dollars, giving me the cold shoulder because I didn’t reach for my wallet fast enough. But Chloe was faster. She waved her phone playfully. “Already Venmo’d the register. It’s done.” Mom looked absolutely horrified. She asked Chloe, “Where did you get the money? You spent over a hundred just Ubering here! With me and your sister here, why on earth should you have to pay?” Chloe, afraid I’d get mad, shot me a secret, helpless little smile. Then she linked arms with Mom and whined cutely. “Mom, who cares who pays? Sis already covered the hospital deposit and the nurse fees. There’s no reason I can’t cover the small stuff.” “Once we find the driver who hit Dad, insurance will reimburse all that. Your sister is just floating the cash, it’s not like she’s losing it.” Mom muttered under her breath, clearly unconvinced. But in reality, when Mom got the settlement check later, she never paid me back a dime. Honestly? I didn’t care about that. Dad was hurt. It was my duty to step up. I didn’t feel unbalanced about the money. What hurt was that Mom wouldn’t shut up about that damn lunch Chloe paid for. “We shouldn’t have let your sister pay. Her job is so unstable, she works one month and takes two off. She can barely feed herself.” “Chloe paid for lunch. You know, Harper, you really rode your sister’s coattails on that one.” I spent thousands. Chloe spent fifty. And in the end, I was the one mooching off her? I was at my breaking point, ready to snap back. But I saw Dad on the hospital bed, shaking his head at me desperately. For the sake of my injured father, I didn’t scream at my mother right there in the ward. But all afternoon… Mom called her friends, FaceTimed the aunts, chatted with the neighbors. She told everyone. Chloe bought lunch. It was headline news. And me? I craned my neck to listen, only to hear her whisper-complaining: “The youngest is just so thoughtful. She knew we hadn’t eaten all morning and took us out immediately.” “The oldest sat there all morning and didn’t even think to grab me a bagel.” I couldn’t take it anymore. I made up an excuse, turned around, and walked out. Tears were streaming down my face before I hit the elevator. It wasn’t that I didn’t care she was hungry. I was too busy to think. Admissions paperwork, CT scans, co-pays, dealing with the police report, finding a caregiver. When did I have a second to breathe? I always knew Mom played favorites. back in college, the deal was that Chloe and I both got $1,000 a month for living expenses. But between textbooks, lab fees, food, and basic survival, I was always broke. Chloe, somehow, always had extra cash. Mom always scolded me, saying I wasn’t as sensible as Chloe, that I didn’t care about my parents’ money, that I didn’t know how to budget. Every time I asked for money, I got a lecture. Occasionally, I’d starve myself to stay under budget, but Mom wouldn’t even send the check on time. She’d delay it a few days. To “build my character.” 2 I lived in constant anxiety. Every month, I prayed the transfer wouldn’t be late. But I never dared to demand anything from Mom. Because she always shut me down with one sentence: “How come Chloe has enough? How come she never nags me?” Yeah, I didn’t get it either. I was being cheap as hell. I was rationing tampons. Why was I still drowning? It wasn’t until years after graduation, during a casual chat with Chloe, that I found out the truth. Yeah, the cash allowance was $1,000. But Mom paid for everything else separately. Textbooks, Sephora hauls, snacks—Mom ordered them on Amazon and shipped them directly to Chloe’s dorm. Even her meal plan was prepaid each semester—thousands of dollars I didn’t know about. Chloe’s $1,000 was just for fun. She didn’t know how to spend it all. And me? I had nothing. Everything I needed had to come out of that grand. One Thanksgiving, Mom brought out her special pot roast for guests. Chloe and I both loved it. When we were leaving, Mom packed a huge Tupperware container for Chloe. She didn’t even mention it to me. Dad, feeling the awkwardness, quickly spoke up: “Pack a bag for Harper, too.” Mom curled her lip in disdain. “It’s just leftovers.” She spoke slowly. But her eyes were fixed on me. Then she asked, hesitating, “Do you even want it?” I held back the tears stinging my eyes and shook my head violently. “No. I don’t like it.” She let out a sigh of relief, like she’d been pardoned, and smiled at Dad. “See? I said she didn’t want it. She’s so picky, she’d never want these scraps.” It hurt too much. I rushed out to my car, ready to leave. But Mom chased after me. She completely flipped her attitude, smiling brightly as she shoved a greasy bag into my hands. “Just take it. Your dad insists.” “If you don’t take it, he’s going to fight with me again.” I sighed quietly and took it. When I got home and opened it, I realized it wasn’t the roast she made. Her roast was savory and tender. This was dry, bland meat. It was the leftovers from my Aunt’s house that Mom didn’t want to eat herself. I remembered her heating it up earlier, muttering, “This tastes like cardboard. I should just regift it.” Oh. So I was the garbage disposal. And now, standing in this cherry orchard, listening to her bring up the lunch Chloe paid for again? I snapped. “Mom, the duvet covers, the sheets, the fruit, the snacks, the toilet paper, even the AC unit and the 65-inch TV in your living room—I bought all of that. I Venmo you thousands for every birthday and holiday. Have you ever calculated how much that is? Yet you’re obsessed with the fifty bucks Chloe spent, repeating over and over how I mooched off her. How about this: from now on, let her buy that stuff. I’ll PayPal her a hundred bucks right now to cover that lunch. Will that buy your silence?” “If this is how you keep score, then fine. Let Chloe have the ‘privilege’ of paying for everything. I’ll take the hit on being ‘cheap,’ okay?” My voice was shaking, throat tight. Mom was startled. Her eyes went wide. “Why are you so unstable? We’re just chatting, why are you throwing a tantrum?” “I don’t have a degree like you, I don’t know what’s PC to say and what isn’t. Do you really need to nitpick your own mother? I never said you didn’t spend money. I admitted you buy things. I’m just saying that when it comes to dining out, you aren’t as thoughtful or classy as your sister. Did I lie?” 3 “Honestly. Can’t even open my mouth around you.” “Don’t ever ask me out again. Dragging me out in this heat… acting like I owe you something.” “I was in a good mood, and now you’ve ruined it with your screaming.” She looked at me like I was bad luck personified. She grabbed the baskets of cherries we’d picked and started walking out. From a distance, I heard her tell the farmer, “My daughter will get the bill,” before walking to the road to hail a cab. I stood there, heart filled with frustration and humiliation. I deeply regretted asking her out. Actually, I didn’t ask her out. She called me yesterday saying she craved cherries. I offered to Instacart some. She said she wanted “fresh off the tree.” I canceled my meetings, skipped breakfast, and drove her here. And she left me in the dust. In the past, I would have told myself: She’s getting old, she’s confused, let it go. But this string of events was too much. She was being too cruel. I couldn’t gaslight myself anymore. I decided to let my anger breathe. I wasn’t bowing my head this time. There was one loose end, though. A month ago, Mom mentioned she wanted a Roomba. She said sweeping was hurting her back. She wanted to wait until the weather cooled down to go shopping for it. Usually, if I took her, I’d be the one paying. I’ve fought with Mom before. But I was always the one to break the ice, to apologize. This time, I wondered… If I went no-contact, if I didn’t mention the Roomba, what would she do? Even if she reached out, I knew it didn’t mean she cared about me. But I was curious. Would she initiate contact, even if just for a machine? The answer came three months later. She texted me. But the content shocked me. “You don’t need to take me to buy that robot vacuum anymore.” [Why?] “I asked around. Those things eat electricity. It’ll cost sixty or seventy bucks a month to run. That’s almost a grand a year. Too expensive. I don’t deserve to use it.” My fingers hovered over the screen. I paused, then typed back casually: [It’s not that expensive. Modern ones are energy efficient. It won’t cost that much.] [But it’s up to you. If you don’t want it, that saves me the trip.] I saw the “typing…” bubble bobbing for ages. But two hours passed. Not a word. When I tried to send another message, I got the “Not Delivered” error. She blocked me. I got it. Her passive-aggressive “I don’t deserve it” was code for: Tell me you’ll pay the electric bill too, and then I’ll happily go buy it. I knew the game. But I was done playing. I didn’t say it. At this point, I was heartbroken and disillusioned, but not entirely dead inside yet. I wasn’t thinking about cutting her off financially forever. I just wanted to stop being invisible. I wanted her to acknowledge my existence, my contributions. On the day we were originally supposed to buy the vacuum… Early in the morning, Dad called. He asked casually when I’d be there and if I wanted breakfast. I feigned surprise. “Dad? I’m at work. What’s up?” 4 “Wasn’t today the day you were taking Mom to get that sweeping robot thing? Why are you at work?” “I was going to take PTO, but Mom said she didn’t want it anymore. So I didn’t request the day off.” “Well, request it now. We’re waiting for you.” Dad sounded helpless. But I refused. “Can’t do it, Dad. Need 24-hour notice. It’s too busy here. We’ll do it another time.” Mom must have been listening. She exploded in the background. “I told you not to call! She’s just talking pretty, you think she actually wants to come? God, I’m embarrassed for you! Hang up! Stop bothering her high-and-mighty career!” Her shrill voice dripped with sarcasm. The call ended. Dad texted me on WeChat. His tone was accusatory. “You know how your mother is. She said she didn’t want it because she was mad at you. If you don’t come coax her, why are you taking her literally?” “Dad, Mom blocked me. How do I coax her? Besides, she’s an adult. She said no. Was I supposed to kidnap her to Best Buy?” Meanwhile, Mom posted a video in the four-person Family Group Chat. The title was: “When old people are annoying, do they deserve to die?” Chloe, oblivious to the war zone, popped in with a joke: “Who was brave enough to piss off Mom? Name them, I’ll fight ’em.” “Is it Dad? Apologize now, or your favorite daughters are gonna be mad.” “It wasn’t your father.” “Thank god I have you, Chloe. Otherwise, your mother would die of a broken heart.” Mom’s targeting was laser-focused. Dad @-mentioned me in the group: “@Harper regardless of who is right, you’re the child. Bowing your head won’t kill you. Just apologize.” He then @-mentioned Mom: “And you, stop holding grudges against your own kid. Stop spiraling. We’ll go tomorrow. Harper will take the day off.” “Right, Harper?” Chloe finally smelled the smoke. She DM’d me: “What happened, Sis? Did you fight with Mom?” “No. Just a misunderstanding.” I replied to Chloe, then explained in the big group. “Mom, I’m not breaking a promise. You said you didn’t want to go. That’s why I’m at work.” “You blocked me for no reason. I don’t know what I did. Now you’re doing this. I really don’t know what I did wrong. If you want the vacuum, just tell me. I’ll take off tomorrow. But I can’t guess your mind games anymore. I’m too tired.” “Dad, can we change the dynamic in this house? If you need something, or if I messed up, just say it. We’re family. Why do I have to be a mind reader to make you happy?” Dad replied instantly: “Yes, yes, Harper is right. Come home tomorrow, we’ll lecture your mom together.” Then he DM’d me privately: “Just take the day off. I’ll work on your mother. I’ll drag her there if I have to.” I felt a wave of exhaustion. But I held my ground in the group chat: “Dad, that doesn’t work. I need Mom to say it. Does she want me to come tomorrow? I’m done being the bad guy.”

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My husband, Robert, took our five-year-old daughter, Lily, to a client dinner with Ava, the woman he’d always loved. During the dinner, he sent Lily out alone to a pharmacy to buy allergy medicine for Ava. While crossing an intersection, our daughter was hit by a speeding motorcycle and thrown dozens of feet. The hospital called me. When I arrived, Lily was still clutching the box of allergy medicine in her tiny hand. With her last ounce of strength, she whispered, “Mommy, Auntie Ava… medicine…” After she closed her eyes, her hand fell limp, and the box of pills clattered to the floor. My world shattered. I called Robert dozens of times before he finally picked up. But before I could scream at him, his voice cut through the line, sharp and angry. “I sent Lily to get the medicine, where is she? Call her and hurry her up, Ava’s waiting!” He hung up before I could speak. When I tried to call back, I found he had blocked my number. Fine. In that case, your precious Ava can join my daughter in the grave. 1 I spent the entire next day making arrangements for my daughter. The hospital staff looked at me with eyes full of pity. For a full forty-eight hours, there was not a single word from my daughter’s father. A decade of love, gone in an instant. I didn’t eat or drink. I just printed the divorce papers and waited. I waited all day for him to come home. When he finally walked through the door, his first words to me were: “Where’s the medicine I told you to have Lily bring? Did she take a detour to the moon? Do you have any idea she put Ava in the hospital for two days?” A cold, bitter laugh threatened to escape my lips. She took a detour to heaven, actually. He yanked off his jacket with an air of profound irritation and threw it on the sofa. The scent of a woman’s perfume I didn’t recognize assaulted my senses. I wrinkled my nose and reflexively took an allergy pill from the drawer. He saw the movement, his eyes narrowing. “What are you trying to pull?” he snapped. “Ava has an alcohol allergy, so you have to copy her? If she’s in the hospital, why aren’t you?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Where’s Lily? Get her out here right now to apologize to Ava! It’s a testament to Ava’s kindness that she isn’t blaming her. She’s covered in a rash and still defending your daughter! Look at how you’ve spoiled that child.” “I’m going to teach her a lesson today!” I forced down the inferno raging in my chest and slapped the divorce papers down on the coffee table in front of him. “Sign them. You don’t need to trouble my daughter anymore. You have no right to discipline her. I’ll get out of your way.” My words ignited his fury. He stomped on the papers, grinding them into a mangled pulp under his shoe. “Your daughter did something wrong, and now you’re throwing a tantrum? Just because Ava is forgiving doesn’t mean I’ll continue to indulge Lily’s behavior!” he roared. “I try to discipline my own child and you want a divorce? Are you insane?” Every word was a hammer blow, turning my heart to bloody ruin. I shot to my feet, the world turning black for a moment. I steadied myself, my voice shaking with restrained violence. “Discipline her? What exactly did my daughter do wrong? What heinous crime did she commit that required you, her father, to send her out alone at night to buy medicine? Do you have any idea what happened to her on the way—” “Oh, for God’s sake, are you ever going to shut up?” Robert cut me off, his voice laced with venom. “What’s the big deal? I sent her to buy medicine. The streets are full of people, what could possibly happen? Did she run to you crying again? Why is she so coddled!” He roughly pulled a small, gift-wrapped box from his suit pocket and slammed it down in front of me. “Is this enough to shut you up? Now get Lily out here. I’ll talk to her myself. From now on, when I discipline her, you stay out of it!” Looking at his face, I suddenly realized there was no point in telling him about Lily. He didn’t care. He only cared if his precious Ava had been slighted, if my daughter had inconvenienced her in any way. With that realization, a mocking smile spread across my face. I reached for the perfume box and opened it. It was the same scent that clung to his jacket. He couldn’t even be bothered to come up with a separate gesture for me; he just bought two of whatever he got for Ava, like tossing a coin to a beggar. Every perfume on the market contains alcohol. I’m severely allergic to it; I’ve never been able to wear any. But Ava, who so famously claimed to share my allergy, adored perfume. He had never been interested enough to notice the contradiction, and he certainly wouldn’t waste his time trying to understand. There was a time when any gift from him, no matter how small, would fill me with joy. Because I loved him. So I valued everything he gave me. Perhaps that was why he thought my love was so cheap. So cheap that he could trample my daughter’s life into the dirt without a second thought. The thought of Lily made my eyes burn. “Just sign the papers,” I said, my voice flat. “Lily will never bother you again. My daughter doesn’t need anyone’s forgiveness. She did nothing wrong.” Her only mistake was being born into this family. My stubbornness made his face darken. “Are you done? I gave you a gift, what more do you want? Our daughter is this old and now you want a divorce? I’m warning you, if we divorce, you can forget about getting custody of Lily!” “I’ve been too good to you,” he spat. “You don’t know what’s good for you.” Having vented his spleen, he turned and stormed off toward the bedroom. This was the first time in ten years I had ever been cold to him. He probably thought it was just another one of my jealous fits. He’d take a nap, wake up to find dinner waiting, and our cold war would end as it always did. But this time, it wasn’t the cold war I wanted to end. It was us. I left the keys and the signed papers on the table and walked out of the home I had lived in for five years. 2 I had a crush on Robert for five years, and we were married for five more. For our relationship to begin, my mother paid with her life. For it to end, my daughter paid with hers. My mother was the housekeeper for the Hayes family. She took care of Robert’s mother for half her life, a model of diligence and devotion. The Hayes family adored her, giving her a raise almost every year. One day, she was accompanying Mrs. Hayes on a shopping trip when they were attacked by a kidnapper—a businessman driven to desperation after being ruined in a deal. He wanted to hold Mrs. Hayes for ransom. My mother didn’t hesitate. She threw herself at him. The kidnapper, stunned that an old woman would dare to intervene, panicked and pulled a knife. My mother fought with all her remaining strength, managing to delay him just long enough for the police to arrive. Mrs. Hayes was safe. The kidnapper was arrested. Only my mother was left, bleeding out on the pavement. Mrs. Hayes, pale with shock, knelt by her side, talking to her, begging her to hold on until the ambulance arrived. But my mother knew her time was short. With her last breath, she thought of me, her only daughter. She knew I had feelings for Robert, and so she made her final request to Mrs. Hayes. Mrs. Hayes was taken aback. She knew Robert had his own great love, Ava. But as she watched the life drain from my mother, as the hand she was holding grew weaker and weaker, she made a promise through her tears. Just before my mother passed, she swore that I would marry into the Hayes family. My mother died in peace. While making her funeral arrangements, everyone tried to console me. I had lost my mother, but I had secured a lifetime of wealth and comfort. No one knew that I would have rather been alone for the rest of my life than lose my mom. My father died when I was young; she was all I had. She never knew how much she meant to me. On my wedding day, Mrs. Hayes held my hand, her voice choked with sobs. “Your mother can finally rest easy…” My eyes were vacant, my face ashen. But thinking of my mother’s dying wish, I nodded resolutely. Robert was the perfect gentleman in front of our guests. For a moment, I allowed myself to believe I had found my partner for life. But after the wedding, when we were finally alone, he leaned in close, his voice a cold whisper in my ear. “You traded your mother’s life for this wedding. Are you satisfied now?” “I don’t love you,” he continued, “but I will honor my mother’s promise. I will play the part. In this play, I am your husband. Offstage, my heart belongs to another.” He was true to his word. In public, he gave me all the respect and dignity befitting Mrs. Hayes. But our marriage was a hollow shell, a truth only I had to live with. The day our daughter was born, he didn’t smile once. He just looked at me and said, “Now my debt is paid. My mother’s debt is paid.” I thought that as Lily grew, his heart might eventually find its way home. How foolish I was. After Lily was born, the only one trapped was me. A marriage bought with one life, now ended by another. 3 After leaving that house, I took my daughter’s ashes and moved back into the cramped old apartment my mom and I used to share. It took three days of waiting in line just to secure a burial plot. Finally, the day of the interment arrived. I had just opened my door when someone kicked it open, sending me sprawling to the floor. The urn nearly slipped from my grasp. I looked up into Robert’s furious eyes. His precious Ava stood behind him, flanked by bodyguards, her face hidden behind a white mask. Before I could react, Robert stepped over me and stormed into the apartment, bellowing Lily’s name. He kicked open every door, but found no sign of a small child. His patience evaporated. He strode back to me, squatted down, and grabbed me by the collar. “Where is she?” he snarled. “Get her out here!” Seeing his face, twisted with rage, my grip on the urn tightened. “I told you, you don’t have the right to even say her name! Now take your mistress and get out of my home!” My words fanned the flames of his anger. His gaze was a poisoned dagger. “Watch your mouth, or I’ll be happy to teach you some manners! You coached our daughter to do something this vicious, and when I want her to apologize, you try to stop me? Have I been too lenient with you?” My blood ran cold. A terrible premonition washed over me. “What did Lily do? I’m here now, don’t you dare try to pin anything on my daughter!” I had thought, for a fleeting, foolish moment, that he had heard about the accident and had come to mourn with me. Reality slapped me across the face once again. Seeing us argue, Ava slowly approached. She pulled down her mask, revealing a face covered in an angry red rash. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked pleadingly at Robert. “It’s okay, Robert. Maybe the child didn’t know what it was. She didn’t mean to give me an allergic reaction…” Her words only made Robert angrier. “Ava, stop defending that little brat! Clara coached her to ruin your face, and your indulgence is only going to make her worse!” I stared at him, my expression a mask of disbelief. “Robert, that is your daughter! What are you saying? What are you going to do to your own child for this… this whore?!” My daughter was gone, and this woman still wouldn’t leave her in peace. Robert’s hand shot out, and the crack of his palm against my cheek echoed in the hallway. The stinging pain ripped away the last of my self-control. “I told you to watch your mouth!” he roared. “Your mother died, was there no one left to teach you how to speak?” “You coached Lily to pour a whole bottle of rubbing alcohol into Ava’s face cream! You know she’s allergic! How could you be so malicious? And now you’re trying to use a five-year-old as your accomplice? What kind of mother are you?” His accusation finally broke me. “She’s five years old!” I shrieked. “How would she even know what rubbing alcohol is? Besides, the smell is so strong, anyone with a nose would have noticed it! It evaporates! How could anyone possibly put that on their face? Robert, have you lost your mind in your quest for revenge for her?!” I screamed until my throat was raw, trying to expel five years of misery. But Robert’s voice was louder. “The only person who went into Ava’s room was Lily! We don’t even have a maid! Who else could it have been?” he bellowed. “It’s all on the security camera, crystal clear, and you’re still trying to deny it? Once I’ve spoken to Lily, I’m turning you over to the police!” “Enough of this nonsense. Bring Lily out. Now!” 4 “The camera?” I gritted out. “Show it to me. I will not let anyone slander my daughter!” Robert furiously tapped his phone and threw it at me. On the screen, a small figure in a dress identical to the one Lily was wearing on the day of the accident, her face obscured by a fisherman’s hat, tiptoed into a bedroom. She stood at a vanity, took a small bottle from her bag, and poured its contents into a jar of face cream. The video ended there. The timestamp was from two days ago. By then, Lily had already been cremated. A cold, mirthless laugh escaped me, and tears streamed down my face. Ava chose that moment to speak. “Clara, I just want to understand why she did this to me. I don’t mean anything else by it. A child can still be taught right from wrong. You can’t encourage her to do these things.” Hearing her so brazenly frame my dead child, I scrambled to my feet and spat in her rash-covered face. “Don’t you dare talk about my daughter! You have no right! You come here with your fabricated evidence without even knowing who was in that video? Is that how desperate you are to become Mrs. Hayes?” My defiance was the final straw. Robert’s rage exploded. He kicked me hard in the stomach. A cry of pain escaped me as my hands went slack. The urn slipped from my grasp and crashed to the floor. The lid popped off, and as the urn rolled, the ashes—a stark, heartbreaking grey against the concrete—spilled across the floor. For a moment, all pain vanished. My world narrowed to that patch of grey dust. A raw, animalistic scream tore from my throat. Ignoring the agony in my stomach, I fell to my knees, trying to shield the ashes with my body. Robert jerked his chin at the bodyguards. One on each side, they hauled me to my feet. My eyes remained fixed on my daughter’s scattered remains. My mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. “Where is our daughter?” Robert’s voice was a low, menacing growl. “Speak. This is your last chance.” I didn’t hear him. I was frozen, trapped in a waking nightmare. He nodded slowly. “Fine. You won’t talk? You like ruining people’s faces, is that it?” He took a bottle of medical-grade alcohol from one of the bodyguards and poured it onto the floor, turning my daughter’s ashes into a grey slurry. He bent down, scooped up a handful, and brutally smeared it across my face. The cold shock made me tremble. He ground the mixture into my skin with more force. “I’m giving you a facial, on the house. Do you like it? Speak! I asked you a question!” The alcohol hit the raw skin on my cheek where he had slapped me. Pain, sharp and blinding, contorted my features. My screams echoed in the dilapidated hallway. “You want a divorce? You’ve got it!” Robert yelled over my cries. “And you can forget about ever seeing Lily again!” He wiped his hands on a bodyguard’s sleeve and took out his phone. “Get the police,” he barked into the phone to his assistant. “I want them to tear this city apart to find my daughter. And get our lawyers to draft the divorce papers. I want full custody.” There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line. Then, the assistant’s voice, small and timid, trickled through the speaker. “Mr. Hayes… your daughter… she’s passed away. She was cremated… It was the same night you and Ms. Vance were at that dinner. The cause of death was a motorcycle collision.” “Because I couldn’t reach you, I took the liberty of helping Mrs. Hayes arrange for a burial plot. Today… today was supposed to be the interment…”

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When my childhood best friend was surrounded by fire, he calmly looked in my direction. I knew he had reincarnated, too. Suddenly, a stream of comments flashed across my vision. “LOL, the thirsty female side character is going to rescue the male lead again.” “Wait for the female side character to save the male lead, get sixth-degree burns, and be shipped off to the sticks. Then the male lead can introduce the poor female lead as the fake daughter to the side character’s family. Childhood romance trope, so sweet.” “Our pure female lead just wants a home. The reborn male lead definitely won’t let the side character return to threaten her happiness.” Is that so? What if, in this life, the one who gets sixth-degree burns is my childhood friend, not me? Chapter 1 The fire crackled loudly. The hot, scorching smoke made it impossible to breathe. “Coral, don’t worry about me. Run!” That familiar scene and voice made my entire body tense up. I thought I was dead. Dead, after my childhood friend and the fake heiress tormented me. Dead, caught in a once-in-a-century blizzard. “It’s okay, even if I die here, it doesn’t matter. As long as you live, that’s all that counts.” “Coral, you’re the kindest, most innocent girl I’ve ever met. I just wish I had met you sooner in the next life to protect you.” Anyone hearing those passionate, sorrowful words would feel compelled to stay. In my past life, I was fooled by them. But in this life, my heart is colder than a sword forged in the mountains for sixteen years. I looked up and met the flawlessly handsome face of my childhood friend, Henry Wen. His expression seemed fearful, but his eyes held an unsettling calm. With that single glance, I knew he had been reborn, too. I curved my lips, about to speak, when a stream of comments flashed across my vision. “LOL, the thirsty female side character is going to rescue the male lead again.” “Wait for the female side character to save the male lead, get sixth-degree burns, and be shipped off to the sticks. Then the male lead can introduce the poor female lead as the fake daughter to the side character’s family. Childhood romance trope, so sweet.” “Our pure female lead just wants a home. The reborn male lead definitely won’t let the side character return to threaten her happiness.” Oh, how amusing. Not only am I reborn, but I can also see these bizarre comments. This second life is going to be far more entertaining. Chapter 2 Just like in the past life, I said, sounding frantic: “Coco! I won’t let you die!” Henry curved his lips into a mocking smile, but just as his smile peaked, I spoke again. “You wait here! I’m going to call the cops and get help!” “Henry, wait for me!” With that, I turned and ran. I ran so fast I almost stumbled and fell. I wasn’t rushing to save him, but this fire was going to spread rapidly. The area was full of dry brush, and it could easily get out of control. Even though the fire didn’t spread in the previous life, I couldn’t risk it. My life is valuable. I have to stay alive until these scumbags are dead! Henry watched me run until I was far away, realizing I wasn’t joking. He started yelling for help. “Help!—Help me!” “Skylar Li! Come save me! I’m going to burn to death!” Hearing that, I finally stopped. Relief flashed in his eyes, but when he saw me simply standing there, arms crossed, watching lazily, he panicked for real. He tried to save himself, rushing toward the ring of fire, desperate to escape. But the idiot was too busy posing. The fire was much bigger than he anticipated. He even deliberately sent the housekeeper away and told the security guards he was setting off fireworks so they wouldn’t disturb him. He wanted the fire to spread quickly so I would burn. Now he’s getting a taste of his own medicine. The comments section exploded. “Is this side character crazy? Why isn’t she saving the male lead!” “WTF, is the handsome male lead going to die in the first chapter?” “No way! He’s the male lead, the Chosen One! Others might die, but he’ll probably just get burned, then get reconstructive surgery to look even hotter. That’s the standard trope.” I smirked. I don’t know who’s posting these comments, but they’re all idiots. Henry can’t get plastic surgery because he has a tendency to keloid scarring. And the Wen family isn’t as wealthy as mine. He absolutely cannot and will not be reborn as a success. I swear, even Jesus can’t help him! … Five minutes later, a passing neighbor heard his cries for help and frantically called the police and an ambulance. I watched him being carried away on a stretcher from a distance. The white sheet didn’t cover his face, which told me the jerk wasn’t dying yet. Good. Chapter 3 After a night of emergency surgery, Henry woke up. His proudly long legs were amputated, and his handsome face was melted by the flames. The smell of burned flesh permeated the air. Henry’s parents almost passed out from grief. This was their only son. When my parents and I stepped into the hospital room, Henry, numb and despairing from the pain, instantly roared with incandescent fury: “Skylar Li! I was so good to you! How could you just watch me burn?” “Do you know my leg was amputated? I’ll never stand again! I have sixth-degree burns and I’m crippled! You could have just reached out and saved me! Why were you so cruel? Why did you ruin me? What did I ever do to deserve this? Are you happy now that you see me like this?” His desperate accusations sounded like a spiteful woman. He looked nothing like the refined, gentle boy he used to be. I wasn’t this unhinged when he ruined me in the past life. I pursed my lips, feigning innocent distress. “Henry, how could you accuse me? Everyone knows I do whatever you tell me.” “You set the fire! You drew that big circle with gasoline and said you were going to show me a magic trick! I thought you were putting on a show again. And you kept insisting I leave. I thought it was part of the act, so I listened and left!” Henry’s mom wiped her tears, complaining. “You left, but you should have called the police! How could you just watch him burn like that?” I spread my hands, looking even more innocent. “I didn’t leave. I was standing right there, watching Henry’s performance.” Henry’s mom’s face went white with anger. She was about to point at me, but Henry’s dad stopped her, trying to soothe her. “Calm down. It’s over now. Henry did set the fire, and he did tell Skylar to leave. She’s only twelve. It’s normal for her to think it was a magic trick.” My parents had already heard my side of the story on the way over. While I might have been partially involved, they couldn’t blame me entirely. My mom quickly added: “We’re so sorry. We spoiled Coco too much. We truly apologize for this.” “I’ve already spoken to the hospital director. They’re contacting the best specialists globally for Henry’s treatment. Technology is so advanced now, he’ll be able to get prosthetic legs soon and walk again. Please let us know if you need anything at all.” Ha, dream on. My parents spent a fortune in the past life trying to get me back on my feet. It was useless. His injuries were too severe. The amputation went up to his thigh, and he damaged his reproductive organs. He’ll never have children unless he’s getting cheated on. Chapter 4 My dad gently patted Henry’s dad on the shoulder, sighing. “I know our children are our lives. I understand how you feel.” “But life must go on, no matter how hard it is. Once you’ve recovered, let’s start the wind power project together. The approval documents just came through.” Instantly, Henry’s parents’ expressions softened. They were just waiting for my dad to say that. After all, their son was crippled—that’s a fact. And it was his own fault. Blaming me was pointless. Better to exchange the misery for a multi-billion dollar partnership. Henry’s dad nodded. “You’re right. We have to keep living.” Henry expected his parents to demand justice for him, to make me pay a painful price. Instead, he realized they were using him as a tool for business interests. He was so angry his face turned crimson. He was about to curse me, when I leaned in and whispered mockingly in his ear. “Henry, I lied to them just now.” “I knew you weren’t doing a magic trick, and I deliberately didn’t save you. You can forget about advanced prosthetic legs. The scars will be permanent.” “I personally ruined you, but this is just the beginning.” The words were devastating. So devastating that his hysterical screams started only after I pretended to tuck him in. “Skylar Li, you bitch! You devil!” “Mom, Dad, she just admitted it! It was all deliberate! She wanted to ruin me! No, she wanted to kill me!” “Mom, Dad, you have to kill her! Kill her—” He didn’t finish. Henry’s dad angrily yelled at him. “Henry Wen!” “Are you done throwing a fit? You’re still trying to blame Skylar!” “You set the fire yourself, and you told the security guards it was fireworks so they wouldn’t check! Everything that happened is your own damn fault! Be thankful Skylar didn’t get hurt, or your life wouldn’t be enough to pay for it!” Henry was so enraged he started spitting up blood. Doctors and nurses rushed him to the operating room for emergency treatment. The comments section was livid. “WTF, the side character is seriously insane! Absolutely unhinged!” “Did the side character reincarnate too? She’s brutal! Her words are murderous. It’s pathetic how the male lead is being destroyed by her.” “Honestly, this psycho side character is kinda hot. The male lead wanted to kill her, and she reversed the outcome. That’s fair.” “Haha, when you put it that way, it’s actually pretty cool.” I smiled. Of course, it’s cool. Compared to the hypocritical male lead and the weak, fake female lead, a vicious side character like me is much more entertaining. I’m ready to kill them both. Don’t bother trying to bind me with morality. A devil who clawed her way out of hell has no morals whatsoever. Chapter 5 The national wind power project was a massive opportunity. So tempting that Henry’s parents quickly forgot about their son still in the hospital. And I, the vicious side character, used the excuse of taking care of him to visit the hospital every day, just to provoke and disgust him. I read him the love letters I received. I danced the ballet I just learned right in front of him. Dancing alone is boring, so I brought a handsome, gentle boy to dance with me. I frequently brought his former rivals to visit him. I shared good news, like getting first place in the entrance exam… He couldn’t take it anymore and complained to his parents, begging them to keep me away. Henry’s dad was furious, accusing him of being ungrateful. He said I was so busy, yet I made time to visit and even brought friends to cheer him up. He called Henry a spoiled brat. Henry developed full-blown depression. I used the opportunity to suggest: “Maybe the hospital environment isn’t good for Henry’s recovery.” “My family owns a villa in the countryside. The scenery is beautiful, the people are kind, and the food is all organic and healthy. With a private nurse and two caregivers, the recovery results would be much better than here.” “Then we can get Henry the most advanced prosthetic legs, and he can play basketball again.” Henry’s dad instantly agreed. “You’re so thoughtful, Coco. We’re too busy to be with him.” The decision was finalized then and there. He was sent to the countryside that afternoon. He fought and screamed and threatened a hunger strike. But what could he do? They just packed him up and put him in the car. He didn’t even have the strength to fight back. The comments lit up. “The side character is a poison! So cruel! The poor male lead is ruined…” “This plot is familiar. Is the side character planning to do everything the male lead did to her, back to him?” “Who says the side character has to die? This counterattack is so satisfying!” “What if the side character takes a cute guy and trains him to be her submissive boyfriend? That would be so hot.” Even the cutest guy wouldn’t be as handsome as the male lead, right? The male lead is the handsomest. Wait, there’s a major villain, Alec Lin, who’s supposedly just as handsome. But Alec’s ruthlessness matches his good looks. He’s a cold-hearted bastard. “If the side character and the ultimate villain team up, the destruction of the world is basically imminent.”

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1 I was doing a stunt for a fight scene when the film’s “It Girl” stabbed me for real, landing me in the hospital. My A-list actor boyfriend, Zane, rushed to my side, fussing over me with worried questions. Before I could even feel a flicker of warmth, a line of text materialized above his head: [When is Sienna going to realize the A-lister bound her to that wannabe Roxy with a Beauty System?] [Whatever part of her body Sienna obsesses over, that same part on Roxy becomes even more perfect!] A second later, my agent of five years, Cole, hurried in. Another line of text appeared: [The agent’s just as bad. He’s bound her with an Achievement System. The harder Sienna works, the more successful Roxy becomes!] I looked at the two men in front of me and fell into a deep, unsettling thought. So… all I have to do is stop giving a damn. … As the text continued to scroll, a chill crept into my heart. How could this be possible? The two most important men in my life were using me, sacrificing me for someone else? Just then, a celebrity news alert popped up on my phone: [Rising Star Roxy Spotted by Fans, Warmly Posing for Photos and Hugs.] In the video, her legs were impossibly long and slender, so pale they practically glowed. But just yesterday, when we were filming our fight scene, I’d seen her thighs, and they hadn’t looked like that. The comments section was flooded. [Roxy is the queen of self-discipline! Just a few days ago people were talking about her ‘thick thighs’ and now look at this comeback. Incredible!] [I heard she runs ten kilometers every morning to maintain her figure! How can a star like this not be famous?] [This is some serious shade on a certain senior actress, isn’t it? She’s been in the business for years and still hasn’t learned to manage her own body!] [Exactly. She’s so dark and chubby. If she’s not a flop, who is?] I didn’t need three guesses to know who the “certain senior actress” was. I glanced instinctively at my boyfriend, Zane, and my agent, Cole. They were both staring at their phones, grinning like idiots, their eyes filled with undisguised admiration and pride. I used to think they were just happy to see an artist from our agency succeed. Now I knew the truth. They were laughing at how stupid I was. The text floated by again: [See? The more Sienna worries about her thigh scarring, the more beautiful Roxy’s legs become.] I took a deep breath. I was starting to believe it. There was no other explanation for how Roxy’s legs could transform into flawlessness in a single day, right after mine had been sliced open. Rage boiled in my chest as I looked at them. One was my boyfriend. When he was a nobody, I was the one who spent a fortune—tens of millions, at least—on ads and investments to make him the star he was today. The other was my agent. When he was a newbie getting bullied in a corner, I was the one, a popular actress at the time, who took him under my wing. Because of me, he became a top-tier agent. And now, these two were working together to destroy me for Roxy. I was about to explode when a nurse came in to change my dressing. Zane immediately took the antiseptic and bandages from her. “I’ll do it,” he said gently. “You go on.” The nurse gave me a knowing, envious smile. “Your boyfriend is so handsome and thoughtful!” I forced a smile, my eyes secretly tracking Zane’s movements. With his back to me, he discreetly tossed the healing powder into the trash. The text floated up: [So cruel. This way, Sienna’s wound will scar, making her even more insecure about it.] I shot up and pushed him away. “Forget it. Just leave it.” Zane stared at me, bewildered. “Sienna, don’t you know that keeping your body scar-free is the ultimate respect you can show your audience?” “Besides,” he added, his voice hardening, “you’re my girlfriend. How can you be worthy of me if you have a scar?” He talked about not wanting me to scar, but all he wanted was for me to be insecure and obsessed. Years ago, when he, a famous actor, chose me, a washed-up star, over a bevy of beautiful actresses, his fans had ripped me to shreds for years. He never once defended me. Instead, he’d gaslight me. “Sienna, maybe they just think you’re not pretty enough.” “It’s okay. With modern medicine, if you want to get some cosmetic work done, I’ll support you.” Blinded by love, I’d foolishly agreed. To be “worthy” of him, I went through hell and back with cosmetic procedures, but my face only got worse. Now people called me a plastic surgery monster, full of toxins. I remember curling up under the covers, my body wracked with sobs, completely depressed over it. And on that very day, Roxy won the “Most Beautiful Lead Actress” award for her stunning looks. Snapping back to the present, I pushed him away with a humorless smile. “If you really cared about me, why haven’t you gone to settle the score with Roxy? Why haven’t you asked her why she used a real knife instead of a prop?” At the mention of Roxy, his expression soured. Cole stepped in, his tone deliberately calm. “Sienna, I know you don’t want to be just a pretty face. You care more about your skills, right?” “So I completely understand you focusing on your acting.” He paused, holding out a call sheet. “Here. I just booked you another stunt gig. Shoots at 1 a.m. The pay is good.” I glanced down at the throbbing wound on my thigh. I’d just been injured yesterday, and he wanted me to pull an all-nighter for a fight scene? I threw the call sheet on the floor. “I don’t feel well. I’m not doing it.” This time, even he couldn’t stay calm. His brows furrowed, his voice laced with impatience. “Sienna, accidents happen in acting. You used to be so tough. What’s wrong with you today?” “Do you have any idea how hard I’ve worked for you these past five years, never giving up, constantly hustling for roles?” I stared at him, a bitter taste in my mouth. “Oh, thank you so much,” I sneered. He’d been with me for five years. I took him on when I was at my peak. He seemed so grateful, always at my beck and call. When my career tanked, he stayed, working tirelessly to find me gigs. I always thought he was loyal. It was why I refused to go home and inherit the family business, despite my parents’ pleas. I pushed myself so hard, often staying on set until three or four in the morning, because I didn’t want to let him down. And what was the result? No matter how hard I worked, I was just a stepping stone for Roxy. The thought made me shake my head. “Since I’m already a flop, what’s the point of trying? I’ll still be a flop.” I looked up and smiled at him again. “You never said you were working so hard. Since it’s such a burden, why don’t you just stop?” Zane and Cole stared at me, their expressions a mixture of confusion and alarm. My words were strange, but my meaning was clear. I didn’t give them a chance to reply. I stood up and walked out. “I’m checking out of the hospital.” Zane snapped out of it and chased me down the hall. “What are you talking about? Your leg looks terrible! Get back in there!” Cole followed, frowning as he tried to grab my arm. “You need to heal up. You have a lot more fight scenes coming up.” “You’re throwing a tantrum over a little thing like this? You’ll never make a comeback at this rate!” “A comeback?” I stopped dead and spun around to face him. “The truth is, you’re terrified I will make a comeback!” My outburst drew curious glances from a few passersby. Zane panicked, fumbling to put on his mask and hissing, “Calm down! We’ll talk about this when we get back!” I shoved his hand away and shouted, “I am perfectly calm!” More people were stopping to watch now. Zane lost it. “Sienna, are you insane? If you don’t care about your own image, at least think about the agency’s reputation!” “You look like a crazy shrew right now! Are you trying to embarrass me?” His face was red beneath his mask. I reached out and ripped it off. “So, the great A-list actor only likes beautiful women?” The mask was off. The hallway erupted. “Isn’t that the movie star, Zane? And that woman… that’s his girlfriend, Sienna, right?” “Why are they fighting in a hospital? Is she pregnant?” “No way. Isn’t he famous for doting on that ugly girlfriend of his? I thought they were true love!” Zane treasured his hard-won fame above all else. He hastily pulled his mask back on, muttering, “You’ve got the wrong person,” and fled. The onlookers froze, their phones still half-raised. I smiled sweetly at them. “Yes, that was Zane.” Cole grabbed my arm, dragging me aside. “If you keep this up, no one will ever hire you again!” “Once this scandal hits the news, your career in this industry is over!” I tilted my head, a laugh bubbling up. “Wouldn’t that be perfect? I was just thinking of retiring.” I had a family empire waiting for me to inherit. I didn’t need to grovel in this toxic industry. While he was still stunned, I turned and walked away. I sent a quick text to my mom, then systematically left every group chat for stunt work. Next stop: the agency, to terminate my contract. I had no endorsement deals, no TV appearances, and no active film roles. Plus, my parents were the biggest investors in the agency. Leaving wouldn’t be hard. That was the real reason the agency never fired me, even after my career had been in a slump for so long. I had asked them to keep my family background a secret, afraid people would use it against me, and even told them not to give me special treatment or resources. The moment I stepped into the office, I ran into Roxy. She stopped in her tracks, her eyes instantly welling up. “Sienna… I didn’t know the knife would… I really didn’t know…” I watched her performance, my face a blank mask. She cried beautifully, inching closer. “Sienna, please don’t be mad at me. It’s all my fault, all my fault…” Her eyes darted to my thigh. “That wound… it’s going to scar! I’ll find you a doctor, I know a really good one…” I sidestepped her. “You stab me, then you find me a doctor. You’re a real saint.” My words ignited the office. A colleague snapped, “Roxy, how is this your fault? It’s her own damn fault for not dodging a real knife. She’s probably just desperate for attention.” “Yeah! Roxy, you’re always getting her roles. She shouldn’t complain about one little stab, or even ten!” “If you ask me, she’s just ugly and high-maintenance! And now she has the nerve to be sarcastic with you!” I scanned the room, a cold smirk on my face. “So, stabbing me was justified, is that it?” Roxy’s tears fell faster. “Sienna, I didn’t mean it like that…” she whimpered. The more helpless she acted, the louder the murmurs grew. “Sienna, that’s going too far. Roxy apologized, what more do you want?” “You think you’re so great because your boyfriend’s a movie star? Get over yourself!” “Look at you. How can you even compare yourself to Roxy? One of her fingers is worth more than your entire career!” “The only reason someone who looks like you is still in this business is because Roxy helps you out. Otherwise, you would’ve been kicked to the curb ages ago!” I took a deep breath, trying to suppress the inferno inside me. They were right. Roxy was better than me now. But everything she had—Zane and Cole had stolen it from me and given it to her. She’d started as a nobody, an extra everyone looked down on. I felt sorry for her and asked Cole to give her a hand. And with that one hand, she shot to stardom. After she got famous, she even got her hooks into my boyfriend. I don’t know when the three of them started plotting against me. I was done wasting my breath on her. I reached out to push past her. The instant my hand touched her, she stumbled backward dramatically, collapsing to the floor. She clutched her knee, her face a mask of agony. “Roxy!” Zane and Cole burst out of the elevator and slammed into me, sending me sprawling. My wound tore open again. Blood gushed out, the pain so intense it brought a cold sweat to my brow. Before I could process what happened, Zane was pointing at me, roaring, “Sienna! How can you be so petty?!” Roxy clutched her back, whimpering as she leaned against him. “I have a promotional event tonight… but after Sienna pushed me, I’m so dizzy… I don’t think I can go… What if this affects the company?” A colleague immediately rounded on me. “That event has several major directors attending! If Roxy can’t go, what will they think of us? You bitch, you’re trying to sabotage everyone!” I suddenly noticed that Roxy was wearing shorts, and her thighs looked thicker than they had in the video this morning, the fabric cutting into her flesh. A text floated by: [Sienna stopped caring about her scar, so Roxy’s legs are back to their original state!] I looked down at my own leg. It was a bloody mess, but the skin around the wound was smooth and pale. Seeing me stare silently at my leg, someone stepped forward and stomped right on my injury. The pain was so blinding I nearly blacked out. The others backed away in disgust. “Now there’s blood all over the floor. So unlucky.” Zane looked down at me, his eyes filled with loathing. “Sienna, if you keep this up, don’t blame me for forgetting our history and telling the boss to blacklist you!” Cole’s voice was like ice. “Without me, a top-tier agent, you’ll never work in this town again!” Suddenly, a furious voice boomed from the entrance. “Insolence! Who dares cause trouble in my company!” Behind the CEO stood my mother, her face a mask of cold fury. The CEO pushed through the crowd of gossiping employees and strode towards me, his brow furrowed. He glanced at my bleeding leg, then at Roxy, and his voice was heavy. “What happened here?” Roxy immediately clutched her back, her voice frail. “Sir, I was just trying to advise Sienna to take better care of her image, but she suddenly lost her temper and pushed me…” The colleagues chimed in. “That’s right, sir! Sienna started it! Roxy was just trying to help!” “Yeah, Roxy is so kind, she didn’t deserve that!” My mother gasped and rushed over. The sight of my leg, drenched in blood, made her scream. “Someone, call an ambulance! Now!” But Zane just scoffed, stopping someone who was reaching for their phone. He crossed his arms, sneering at me. “Stop the act. If you had an ounce of this acting talent on screen, you wouldn’t be a flop.” “Look at Roxy. She debuted after you and already has several leading roles. And you? You’re still just a stunt double. Isn’t that pathetic?” The pain was making my head spin, but I gritted my teeth and glared at him. “This is acting? Are you blind, or am I?” “Zane, have you forgotten how you became an A-list actor in the first place? How dare you lecture me!” “You!” Zane pointed a trembling finger at me. “Sienna! If you hadn’t blackmailed me with the past, do you think I would have ever looked twice at a dark, ugly woman like you?” “I know what you did! You slept with Director Evans to get me that role, to make me an actor! I only stayed with you out of pity, because I didn’t want to expose you!” “But you’re the one who did it! I never forced you!” A wave of gasps and whispers filled the room. “I knew it! That’s how she got famous so fast back in the day! She slept her way to the top!” …It wasn’t enough to destroy me. He had to slander me, too?

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386943”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

One day, a long-term client of mine hit me up. [15k to meet my online boyfriend for me? You can keep everything he buys you.] I was about to type out a polite “no thanks” when she sent the next message. It was a picture of my nemesis. My face went blank. [Are you telling me you’ve been using my photos and videos to date him?] 1 [You’ve been scammed, girl,] I typed back, trying to be gentle. [Impossible,] she shot back instantly. [He’s sent me so much money. He has to be the real Julian Henderson, the heir to the Henderson fortune.] I sighed. I dragged the photo she sent of Julian into a Google search. It was a stock image, used and abused by dozens of gossip blogs. I took a screenshot and sent it to her. She was unmoved. [We’ve worked together for ages, would I lie to you? My online boyfriend is the Julian Henderson.] I let out a slow, frustrated breath. From what I knew of the insufferable Julian Henderson, the swarm of women he dealt with in real life was more than enough to handle. The idea of him bothering with an online romance was laughable. Especially one where he had to look at my face. He wouldn’t fall in love behind a screen; he’d probably just throw up. [He saw my—well, my—photos and didn’t say anything?] I asked. [He said they were beautiful. I mean, you are,] she said, then quickly added, [I even used your voice notes! He sends me ten grand every time I use one!] Oh, dear god. If Julian actually heard my cutesy, high-pitched voice from those recordings, he’d lose his appetite for a week. That settled it. There was absolutely no way the guy she was talking to was Julian Henderson. With that comforting thought, I scrolled through the photos and videos I’d sold her. The pictures were just standard selfies, nothing too crazy. The videos, however… Me, in a series of tight mini-dresses, complete with a cutesy kitten-ear filter. Whatever. It wasn’t the real Julian. No harm done. My client’s messages turned desperate. [Please, babe, just help me out. It’s a totally safe, public meetup! I told him I’m not ready for anything physical. We’re meeting at the downtown galleria, it’s always packed.] When I didn’t reply, she sent another barrage of texts. [If you’re nervous, just stay for one minute and leave! Please? If he thinks I’m a catfish, how am I supposed to keep getting money from him?] A few seconds later, a notification popped up. A direct deposit of $50,000 had just landed in my bank account. The fingers I’d been using to type my refusal froze mid-air. Then again, what kind of person uses Julian Henderson’s photos for a dating profile and then has the guts to meet in person? Wasn’t he afraid of getting called out for false advertising? This client could hire me to be her stand-in, but nobody could order the real Julian Henderson around. You know what? I was curious. I wanted to see what kind of train wreck this guy was. I deleted my half-written rejection. [Fine.] This client was playing with serious cash. Honestly, the fake Julian sounded more generous than the real one. Fearing I’d change my mind, she immediately sent a flurry of screenshots of their chat history. It was a cringe-fest of “Hubby, kisses!” and “I only love you, hubby!” peppered with gifs of spinning cats and blushing kittens. The fake Julian’s replies were always the same. [You’re so beautiful, baby.] Transaction Notification. [You’re so cute, baby.] Transaction Notification. Transaction Notification. Transaction Notification. Holy moneybags. She quickly sent me the location. [This mall.] I glanced at the address. Well, what do you know. The Crown Prince actually did frequent this place; it was near one of his family’s villas. Maybe… I pulled up Julian’s contact and hit dial. Wouldn’t it be perfect to have the imposter see the real Julian Henderson show up right in front of him? Scare him half to death. Ah. Right. I forgot. He blocked me. I silently closed my phone. 2 After a thousand last-minute instructions from my client, I got dressed to the nines and arrived at the galleria half an hour early to scope the place out. I never expected to actually run into Julian Henderson himself. He was lounging near the central fountain, one hand casually tucked in his pocket. A girl was chattering away at his side, and while he wasn’t really listening, he wore a lazy, detached smile. The fact that he wasn’t showing any sign of annoyance was a miracle in itself. I just stood there, stunned. Then his eyes found me, and the smile vanished from his face. He muttered something under his breath. “Just my luck.” I heard him loud and clear but kept my expression neutral. The girl beside him instinctively tightened her grip on his arm, glaring at me. “And who are you?” When I didn’t answer, she turned to Julian with a wounded look. Julian sneered. “A charity case.” He wasn’t wrong. If I wasn’t broke, I wouldn’t be here to meet a fake Julian Henderson. I let out a small, dry laugh, my voice light. “To be hated by the great Julian Henderson… I must be doing something right.” His face instantly darkened. He crossed his arms, his words dripping with contempt. “Thea, what in this mall can you actually afford?” “As long as you can afford it, that’s all that matters,” I replied with a breezy smile, gesturing to a luxury boutique nearby. “Didn’t you buy me a purse from that very store once?” The girl’s eyes widened. “What’s your relationship?” What was our relationship? We were first loves. And dating this spoiled prince was the single biggest mistake of my life. Julian didn’t say anything, and I wasn’t about to embarrass myself further. I adjusted my bag and turned to leave. “Thea.” His voice was soft, but it carried the same arrogant, condescending tone it always had. “Which poor sucker did you trick into paying for your things this time?” I turned back. “Don’t worry, Julian. I haven’t managed to trick anyone more generous than you yet.” Of course, the guy my client was tricking didn’t count. Julian had been coddled his entire life; he never bothered to hide his emotions. So I knew, right then, that he was in a very bad mood. Worried he’d ruin my upcoming meetup, I decided to placate him. “You were right before,” I said softly. “Someone like me will never be happy. But as long as you’re happy, that’s what counts.” Honestly, I think the “nemesis” thing was one-sided. I never go out of my way to make enemies, especially not with a wealthy ex who used to be an open wallet. But the spoiled boy who was once so hard to please was even less receptive now. He curled his lip, his voice laced with venom. “Don’t you go anywhere. I want to see what kind of trash you’ve managed to catch this time.” I froze. I had no idea what kind of persona my client had created with this guy. What if it was some pure, innocent flower? My cover would be blown in seconds. Julian’s personality was tailor-made for exposing lies; he’d tear me apart with a few pointed questions. I swallowed my pride. “He’s not as handsome as you, and he’s not as rich. Julian, why do you have to humiliate me like this?” The girl beside him nodded. “Yeah, Julian, let’s just go.” Julian didn’t even glance at her. He pulled a black card from his pocket. She took it, her entire demeanor shifting as she turned and walked away briskly. “Okay, I’m going shopping then. Text me if you need anything, Julian!” “She’s cute,” I commented with a faint smile. Julian ignored me but made no move to leave. He just stood there, staring down at me. That was him, though. Impulsive and willful. I remembered a time he had a fever. I was frantic with worry, but he just lazily held my hand and whispered, “Want to see what 104 degrees feels like?” My eyes went wide, and my face turned beet red. Not from embarrassment, but from sheer rage. “Are you sick in the head?” He just smirked, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. In the end, we did try. And he ended up in the emergency room. Such childish memories. I lowered my gaze. Julian’s patience was wearing thin. He looked at me, a flicker of irritation in his eyes. “You didn’t just make someone up, did you?” I stayed silent. His patience finally snapped. He answered a call from a friend. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a bit.” Then he shot me one last look, his eyes swimming with mockery. “Instead of carrying that cheap canvas tote, you should’ve just swallowed your pride and kept the bags I gave you.” With that, he turned and strode away, his long legs carrying him further and further from me. I watched his tall figure recede. Even the way he walked was infuriatingly nonchalant. After Julian and I broke up, I packed up every single luxury item he’d ever given me and shipped them back to his family’s estate. His only reply was a text with four words: [I don’t want trash.] Then he blocked me. As for the gifts, a friend told me he threw them all in the dumpster outside his villa. My phone buzzed incessantly. N: [Hey, are you there yet?] [Maybe we should meet in the coffee shop? I’ll just tell him I’m waiting for him there?] [Babe, please answer me!] I took a deep breath, composing myself. [Okay, heading to the coffee shop now.] I walked in and scanned the room. I sent a text to my client: [Babe, bad news. Your Julian Henderson isn’t here. Even worse news, there’s only one handsome guy in the entire place.] [Impossible! He said he’s already there!] she replied frantically. I sighed. Just then, the one handsome guy stood up and started walking toward me. His eyes were almond-shaped, tilting up slightly at the corners, and a tiny beauty mark sat just beneath his left eye. He smiled, a gentle, warm expression that somehow radiated the charm of a cunning fox. I instinctively took a step back. He spoke, his voice a low, magnetic hum. “Thea.” My blood ran cold. I looked down at my phone and furiously typed: [Your name isn’t ‘N,’ is it? You didn’t use my real name, did you?] She replied instantly: [Uh, yeah. I was too scared to use my real name, and we were negotiating prices for the photos, so I just sent him yours. Sorry!] [Wow.] I shut off my phone, took another deep breath, and looked up at the handsome stranger. “Hi there.” Up close, he was even more striking. His features were exquisite without being feminine. A high-bridged nose, thin lips curved into a slight smile, and a single, sparkling stud in his left ear. He was far better looking than I had imagined. Stunning, even. Wait a minute. Why would this guy need to use Julian’s photos? I gave a weak smile. “You look a little different from the photos you sent me.” He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t recall ever sending you any of my photos.” My face twitched. This guy never even sent a picture, so how on earth did my client become so convinced he was Julian Henderson?! “Oh, my mistake,” I said through a clenched jaw, forcing another smile. “Would you mind if I used the restroom really quickly?” “Of course,” he said, his smile never wavering. The second I was inside the restroom, I dialed “N.” The moment the call connected, I exploded. “I TOLD YOU, YOUR ONLINE BOYFRIEND IS NOT JULIAN HENDERSON! NOT JULIAN HENDERSON! But you wouldn’t listen. I figured he was just a catfish, but it turns out HE NEVER EVEN SENT YOU A PHOTO! How in the hell did you decide he was Julian?!” There was a long silence on the other end. Finally, a stunned “Holy shit” echoed back. It was a man’s voice. I froze. “He’s not Julian Henderson? How is that possible? Then who is he?” a torrent of panicked questions came pouring out. “You’re asking me?!” I practically screamed back. “Where did you even find this guy? This is so unprofessional!” I thought I was dealing with some girl running a romance scam. Who knew it was a guy? No wonder he had to buy my voice notes. “What does he look like? Describe him, quickly!” The guy on the phone sounded even more panicked than I was. “He’s actually really handsome, so you don’t have to worry about that,” I said. Another silence. After a long pause, his voice came back, devoid of all life. “He doesn’t have a beauty mark under his eye, does he?” “He does.” “AHHHHHHHHH! I’M SO DEAD!” Right, now he’s dead. Where was this fear when he was scamming money off the guy? If he had been scamming the real Julian, he really would be dead. Julian would have had him skinned alive. A moment later, he asked mournfully, “So what do we do?” “I’m curious,” I said. “This guy seems a lot nicer than Julian. What made you think Julian was such a great catch anyway?” “No, you don’t understand. This guy—my brother—is way scarier than Julian. If Julian wanted to kill me, my grandma might step in. If my brother wants to kill me, no one will lift a finger to help!” He started sobbing. My eyes widened. “What did you just say?” He was clearly in despair. “No wonder Julian said I was an idiot. Am I really that stupid?” “So what now?” I asked. “Should I just make a run for it?” “NO!” he yelped. “If you run, he’ll investigate. He’ll one hundred percent trace it back to me!” I was speechless. “You know what? Just take over my account,” he said decisively. “Just pretend it’s been you two talking this whole time. My brother’s not bad-looking, and he’s loaded—” My jaw dropped. Before I could answer, he started muttering to himself. “I never knew he’d be so generous in a relationship. Shit, why isn’t he like this with my allowance?” “Forget it,” I said flatly. Ever since breaking up with Julian, I’d learned one thing: what doesn’t belong to you will never be yours. Especially not these wealthy young masters. Don’t waste your time fantasizing. Besides, if I actually got involved with this guy and Julian found out, who knows how he’d freak out. No, wait. He’d probably just sneer at the guy: “Your taste is terrible, getting involved with a girl like Thea.” I sighed. The guy on the phone wasn’t happy. “Hey, doesn’t your service include after-sales support?” Wow. They really were related. That twisted logic was just like Julian’s. “I’m hanging up,” I said. “Fifty grand! I’ll add another fifty!” he pleaded. “That’s all my New Year’s money! My brother can’t find out!” “One hundred.” “You’re a loan shark! You know you can get plenty from my brother, and you’re still trying to bleed me dry?” “Then forget it,” I said. “DEAL!” he cried, defeated. “What’s your brother’s name?” I asked. “Sebastian Henderson.” My head shot up. “You mean Julian’s cousin? The one who’s always been abroad?” “Yeah.” 3 I smoothed down my dress in the restroom mirror, reapplied my lipstick, and took a final, deep breath before walking back out. Sebastian was waiting for me. To be honest, Sebastian didn’t seem as prim and proper as his name suggested. He had an air of effortless confidence, like someone who existed outside the rules. That constant, gentle smile made him look like a fox. Why would someone with his kind of money and power bother with online dating? I took the initiative and linked my arm through his. He stiffened for a fraction of a second, then his smile widened. “Anything you want to buy? Or should we eat first?” he asked. “Either is fine,” I said. He then led me from one boutique to another. Unlike Julian, he would patiently comment on how each bag or dress looked on me before buying everything. Julian would just find a chair, play on his phone, and pay when I was done. It was strange. It felt like a perfect boyfriend had just fallen from the sky. But I knew Sebastian wasn’t as easygoing as he appeared. The more perfect they seem, the more dangerous they are. For now, though… He even had two bodyguards following us, their arms laden with shopping bags. “Thea, I made a reservation at that restaurant you said you wanted to try,” Sebastian said, his lips curling into a soft smile. “Let’s go!” I agreed cheerfully. “Do you remember which one it was?” he asked, his gaze dropping to me, deceptively casual. He looked like a cat watching a mouse in its paws. Which one. I had no idea. And I couldn’t exactly pull out my phone and ask my male-client-who-is-now-my-fake-boyfriend’s-brother. The silence stretched. My heart hammered against my ribs. I bit my lip, a sudden chill creeping over my skin. I finally understood what the kid meant when he said Sebastian was scarier than Julian. Julian wore all his emotions on his sleeve. If you pissed him off, you knew it immediately. But Sebastian… I couldn’t read him at all. I had no idea what he meant by asking that question. I opened my mouth, but before I could say anything, he chuckled, his voice a warm, deep timber. “It’s okay. You’re busy, it’s normal to be forgetful. You’ll know it when we get there.” I nodded frantically. Sebastian was actually a nice guy! If Julian had known I’d forgotten something about him, he would have spent the next five hours delivering a non-stop monologue of creative insults. 4 When we arrived at the restaurant, the maître d’ bowed respectfully. “Mr. Henderson.” He led us to a private room in the back, an elegant space complete with its own koi pond. I sat across from Sebastian. He had the cuffs of his shirt loosely rolled up, revealing well-defined wrists. The pale skin made the blue veins stand out even more. “You can order,” I said, not even looking at the menu. “I’m not a picky eater.” Sebastian smiled. “Alright.” I took the opportunity to text the kid, Noah. [You told Sebastian you wanted to eat at a French place? I almost got caught. Are there any other details I need to know? Tell me now.] Suddenly, the door to our room was pushed open. A familiar voice rang out. “Sebastian? You’re back in the country?” I froze. Julian clicked his tongue, his voice bored. “I thought this room was empty, so I didn’t bother making a reservation. The others are full. Mind if we share?” I ducked my head, trying to shrink into nothing. But I forgot what Julian once told me: he could recognize me even if I was reduced to ashes, just so he could scatter me to the wind himself. “Thea?” The lazy drawl in his voice instantly turned to ice. I didn’t dare look up. Worse, my phone lit up with a reply. [Huh? No way. I never told my brother where I wanted to eat. I hate French food. I like rotisserie chicken.] My eyes widened in horror. “Look at me, Thea,” Julian growled, his voice a low threat. Sebastian’s fingers tapped lightly on the table. “Is that any way to speak to your sister-in-law?” “My what?” Julian’s voice shot up an octave. Only then did I slowly raise my head, offering a weak smile. “What a coincidence.” Then, taking Sebastian’s cue, I added, “Little brother.” “Who the hell is your little brother?!” Julian exploded. He pointed a shaking finger at me, then turned to Sebastian. “You don’t know she dated me?” Sebastian sipped his coffee, completely unbothered. “I didn’t. Are you two still together?” “No, no! We broke up a long time ago,” I interjected quickly. “Shut up,” Julian snapped, his voice tight with suppressed rage. Each word was ground out from between his teeth. His hands were clenched into fists, his knuckles white. “Sebastian, didn’t you run a background check on me when I was dating her? Don’t you dare lie to my face and say you don’t know who she is.” Sebastian crossed his legs, his posture relaxed. In the suffocating tension, he actually managed a lazy smile. “I did. So what?” Julian’s eyes were red with fury. I sighed and decided to intervene. “Don’t be mad. Maybe we just weren’t meant to be. Why don’t you have some water and calm down?” I started to get up to pour him a glass. “Thea.” Sebastian’s voice was light, but his gaze was sharp. My heart seized. I immediately sat back down, perfectly still. Julian looked at me in disbelief. “You argue with me about everything, but you listen to him like that? Did he put a spell on you?” I didn’t answer. To be honest, Sebastian was just more intimidating. A long silence passed. Finally, Julian’s voice was hoarse. “When did you two get together?” I couldn’t answer that. Sebastian answered for me, his tone even. “End of last year.” “When, exactly?” Julian pressed, relentless. “The day after Christmas.” My smile froze on my face. A cold, mocking sneer spread across Julian’s lips. “Wow, Thea. You really are something else.” Julian and I had broken up on Christmas Day. But I wasn’t the one who started talking to Sebastian on the 26th! I kept my mouth shut, swallowing the bitter truth, and let him think I was the kind of girl who moved on in a day. Seeing my silence, Julian slammed the door on his way out.

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My eight-year-old brother, Max, said he was reborn. He led five-year-old me, the girl with zero sense of direction, to a lost, simple-minded boy picking through garbage in a suburban field. The boy was looking for a rag doll. Max pointed to the doll hairpin in my hair and said, “She is the doll. She’s yours now.” With that, Max walked away without looking back. I waited and waited. From noon until sunset. My brother never returned. Then, a strange, echoing voice cut through the air: “The villainess doesn’t know that the male lead has been reborn. In this life, he will only cherish the tragically deceased female lead of the previous life as his own sister.” … I didn’t understand the words. My eyes filled with tears, and I stood trembling in confusion. The lost boy slowly finished flipping the last bit of trash. He wiped his grimy hands on his clothes. Then he tugged the doll hairpin in my hair. “Rag doll, do you want to come home with me?” 1 The end of the road. The silhouette that had walked away never reappeared. I bit down hard on my lip, my eyes red, and pushed the boy’s hand away. My voice trembled despite my best effort. “I can talk! I am not your rag doll!” My mother died in childbirth. My father was long gone. My brother had carried me, still a baby, into the orphanage. Since then, he was the only one who had ever been kind to me. He told me children shouldn’t follow strangers. I stood rigidly by the stinking pile of garbage, waiting for him to return. Five years. Since the day I was born, he had never once left me behind. I didn’t understand why he suddenly left me here. I didn’t understand the strange voice in the air, or what “reborn” meant. I only believed that my brother would come back soon. The sky grew dark. The sun slowly sank behind the woods. A wetness blurred my vision. I wiped my eyes furiously and kept staring down the road. The boy stood before me, studying me intently. I stared back, my eyes wide and cautious. “My brother is coming to pick me up! I won’t go with you!” The boy looked startled, watching my lips move. He seemed to realize that I wasn’t just a doll. He looked disappointed. “Then you stay here. I have to go home now that it’s dark.” The last edge of the sun disappeared behind the trees. The surroundings grew darker. The boy walked away, leaving me alone. 2 The last light faded. I looked down, barely seeing my own feet. Strange bugs and birds chirped. The grass rustled—I didn’t know what it was. I suppressed my tears, afraid to cry out loud. I crouched, curled into a ball, hands clenched, sticky with sweat. It felt like forever. I was sleepy, my eyelids heavy. But I didn’t dare to close them. I kept my eyes wide and my ears straining against the dark. Then, a shadow appeared before me. A familiar height, taller than me. The tears I’d been fighting finally burst out. I stood up, finally letting out the breath I’d been holding. My lips trembled violently. I wailed, rushing into his embrace. But the scent was unfamiliar. Not my brother. I immediately stopped crying and stepped back. In the dim light, I recognized his dirty clothes. The boy who was picking through the trash. He looked at me in the dark. After a long pause, he said foolishly, “Your brother definitely doesn’t want you.” I was furious and ashamed. I clenched my fists. “You’re lying!” The boy was serious. “He said he was leaving you for me, like a rag doll. No one picks up something they threw away.” I bit down hard. I wanted to argue, but no words came out. I could only make small whimpering sounds. The boy looked around. “No one wants you. If you stay here, the monsters will eat you.” He turned to leave. I couldn’t hold back the tears, shaking uncontrollably. “You’re lying! Brother will come for me!” But my feet moved on their own, chasing after him. I was truly terrified of the monsters behind me. I cried louder. Unconsciously, I reached out and grabbed his sleeve. I held on tightly, sobbing. “Brother is coming! He promised to buy me a cake today! It’s my birthday! He saved up for months!” Last night, he had gently held my hand and said, “Little Jane, tomorrow I’m going to give you the biggest surprise!” We walked for a long time. When I hiccuped from crying, I suddenly noticed the light ahead. The strange voice in the air returned: “Isn’t this the Military Base? The place where the female lead will soon be adopted and live. How did the stray idiot bring the villainess here?” “I told you he’s an idiot. Why are you surprised?” “Trespassing on a military base is a crime. Now the villainess, who caused so much trouble in the past life, might be eliminated at five.” I finally saw the light. The wide, imposing gate, topped with a red star. Guards in crisp uniforms stood outside, holding rifles, their faces stern. My crying stopped in my throat. This time, I understood a little of what the voice was saying. I gripped the boy’s sleeve. Just as I was about to say we couldn’t go in there, a young couple rushed out of the Military Base, looking straight at us. The man wore a military uniform, his face stern and angry. The woman, in a smart dress, rushed towards us, her eyes red with tears. She embraced the boy next to me. “You ran off again! We’ve been looking all over the base for you! You’re trying to worry us to death!” I clutched my skirt, afraid to speak. The woman noticed me and paused. “Who… who is this child?” 3 The boy lifted his head proudly. “Someone gave her to me. She can talk and cry.” The woman’s face froze. The stern man behind her stepped forward, his face dark with anger. “Nonsense! You’ve caused trouble!” He controlled his anger and knelt down, speaking gently to me. “Little girl, do you remember your family and where you live? Uncle will take you home immediately.” I was too scared. I stammered, “I’m from the orphanage. I have a brother. He lost me by accident.” The couple handed the boy to the guard and offered to drive me back to the orphanage. Outside the orphanage, I immediately recognized my brother. He was talking to the director under the streetlamp. My eyes welled up. I urgently pushed open the military jeep door and ran toward him. The couple saw I found my family and stopped following. I ran to the gate and met my brother’s eyes. I saw shock, quickly followed by disgust and warning. I thought I was mistaken. Then I heard his urgent voice talking to the director: “You always said she was stupid, that she couldn’t remember the way even after walking it a hundred times. She’s sickly and causes the orphanage so much trouble.” “I accidentally lost her this time. It has nothing to do with you.” “The Colonel’s wife was considering Jane but also Sarah. Let them adopt Sarah. Sarah is smart and will remember to come back and thank you…” I stood rigid, unable to believe what I was hearing. The Colonel and his wife had visited the orphanage recently. They said Sarah and I were the best behaved and they wanted to adopt one of us. My brother tried to make me look good, and the Colonel’s wife decided on me. Sarah was the daughter of an acquaintance of my mother. Her father got into trouble, and she came to the orphanage. She often tried to get close to my brother, but he ignored her. Yesterday, when she came to wish me a happy birthday, my brother angrily sent her away: “Jane’s birthday has nothing to do with you!” Now, just one day later, he was changing his tune. I didn’t know why. Just like I didn’t know why those strange voices kept appearing in the air. The director listened to my brother, then smiled with satisfaction. “Boy, remember what you said. You lost your sister.” “Sarah is clever. If she gets adopted by the Colonel, she will definitely come back to thank me…” I stood there, gripping my hands, unable to process the words. When the director left, my brother walked toward me, his face dark. He asked coldly, “How did you find your way back? Did that idiot teach you the route?” My eyes ached. I fought back tears, but my voice cracked with misery. “Why did you abandon me?” “Why?” My brother sneered. His eyes were filled with a strange, intense hatred toward me. “If I hadn’t been softhearted and remembered our sibling bond, I would have killed you the moment I saw you!” 4 I stared at him, bewildered and terrified. He moved closer, his hateful gaze stabbing me. “In the past life, Sarah just joked about selling my Harvard acceptance letter. You created a huge scene at the college and the military base, humiliating her and sending her to jail, where she killed herself…” I barely understood his words. He stopped talking, sneering with rage. “Why am I wasting my breath? Jane, I spared your life. That’s more than enough. You live or die on your own terms!” “Never appear in front of Sarah and me again, or you’ll regret it!” My whole body trembled. Instinctively, I reached for his arm. He violently pushed my hand away. He turned and shoved me hard. I didn’t know he could push so hard. My body flew backward. My vision blurred. My forehead hit something. Blood flowed, dripping into my eyes. Through the bloody haze, I saw my brother’s cold, resolute back as he walked away. I finally understood. He truly didn’t want me anymore. Because of some confused, incomprehensible reason, he was gone. The young couple who had brought me back led me back to the Military Base. I saw the idiot boy sitting on the sofa in the foyer. He was staring at the door, looking anxious. When he saw me, his eyes brightened. He rushed over and grabbed my wrist. He looked furious, staring at the couple. “She is mine! Don’t you dare take her away again!” He turned to me, carefully checking me over. “Are you hungry? Are you tired? I’ll take you to eat and sleep.” He spoke to me like I was a genuine rag doll. The woman sighed. “That’s my son, Alex. He had an accident six months ago and… lost his mind when his sister died.” So, he wasn’t a stray. He was looking for a doll because he missed his sister. The woman took my other hand, speaking softly. “He won’t hurt you. If you’re afraid, I’ll move him to another room…” I remembered how he came back for me at sunset, even though I drove him away. I looked at her, shaking my head firmly. “I’m not afraid.” The woman’s eyes reddened. She stroked my hair. “Good. Since he brought you back, this is your home now, as long as you want to stay.”

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The million-dollar deal was dead, and for the first time, Caleb turned his fury on me. In front of the entire office, he tore me to shreds. When we got home that night, his tone was cold and clinical. “At work, there’s no room for personal feelings. You screwed up. It’s your fault.” My phone buzzed. It was a text from his new favorite intern, his junior from college. Clara, I’m so, so sorry. It’s all my fault the deal fell through. Caleb bought me a cupcake to cheer me up—it’s actually really good. Should I order one for you? The next morning, Caleb mechanically scraped the breakfast I’d made into the trash. “How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t eat breakfast.” Later at the office, Brenda from the next cubicle leaned over, a conspiratorial glint in her eye. “That new intern has some nerve. She actually went up and talked to Mr. Hayes this morning. Even brought him a coffee and a bagel. And you know what? He not only ate it, he told her it was good.” I was so done. Forget it. On my phone, another man was still trying his best to poach me. “Hey, if all else fails, I’m not above being the homewrecker. Say the word.” I pressed my lips together. No need for that, I texted back. You’re getting a promotion. 1 One second, I was handing my resignation letter to HR. The next, I was being summoned to Caleb’s office. The moment I walked in, a cup of coffee hit me square in the chest. The force of it felt like a slap to the face, stinging my skin. Over on the leather sofa, a woman was crying, her eyes red-rimmed, the picture of pitiable innocence. “Caleb, please don’t blame Clara,” she sobbed. “It’s my fault. I was responsible for that deal falling through, too. I’m the one who should be leaving, not her.” Caleb’s voice was thick with a rage I rarely saw him display. And it was, once again, because of Jenna. “Is this because I criticized you yesterday? Are you trying to pressure Jenna by running to HR and threatening to quit?” he snarled. “You were her supervisor. Botching that deal was your responsibility. How dare you shift the blame onto her?!” “Do you have any idea what people in the office are saying about her now? They’re saying you couldn’t stand working with the ‘disruptive intern’ and that she drove you out! I want you to go out there right now and clear the air!” I thought he might actually be upset about his girlfriend of seven years leaving him. I should have known better. He was just worried that after I left, people would look down on his precious Jenna. Jenna sniffled dramatically, blew her nose into a tissue, and casually tossed the snot-filled wad onto the other end of the sofa. Caleb’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. After a three-second pause, he walked over, picked up the tissue with his fingertips, and dropped it into the trash can. I froze. A tight, sharp pain clenched around my heart and spread through my chest. In our second year together, we were at home watching Hachi: A Dog’s Tale. I was a wreck, sobbing uncontrollably, tears and snot everywhere. He shoved me out of his arms in disgust. “Sorry, I’m a germaphobe. You need to clean yourself up.” He then disappeared into the bathroom and scrubbed himself from head to toe, at least three times over, as if he’d just touched something contagious. A cold laugh escaped my lips. So, his germaphobia was selective. I took a long, hard look at Caleb. “I’m resigning because I don’t want to work here anymore. It has nothing to do with anything else.” He didn’t believe me. “Then why today? Why not yesterday or tomorrow? It has to be about the deal.” He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a low threat. “Clara, don’t you dare pull your petty little games on Jenna. If you do, don’t blame me for forgetting our history.” I sighed, feeling none of my usual desire to argue with him. When it came to Caleb, my emotions were like a sieve. They poured in and drained right back out. He had been there when the deal imploded. We were at the final stage, the client had all but agreed to our terms. Then Jenna burst in, insisting on personally toasting the CEO. The CEO was already visibly annoyed. But she acted like she couldn’t see it. A brand-new intern, forcing a CEO to drink with her—I still don’t know where she got the audacity. When the CEO lost his temper, I held her back and plastered on a smile, apologizing profusely. I told her to drink three shots as an apology, but she burst into tears, louder than anyone. “Clara, why are you doing this to me? Women shouldn’t tear each other down! Why do you always force me to do things I don’t want to do?” At the time, Caleb’s face was so dark he looked murderous. I thought it was because of the deal we’d just lost. I never imagined it was because I’d told Jenna to apologize. I was just so tired. “I’m not playing games, Caleb. Let’s break up.” Without waiting for his thunderous expression to change, I turned, gathered my things, and walked out of the company. Back at our apartment, I started packing. This was the downside of breaking up—so much stuff, it would take forever to pack. Suddenly, my hand froze. In the back of a drawer, I found a pair of red stockings that weren’t mine. They were torn to shreds, a testament to a very eager, passionate encounter. I tossed them into the trash, snapped a photo, and sent it to Caleb. My phone was already buzzing with his texts, full of explanations I didn’t bother to read. Instead, I dialed another number. “Didn’t you say you wanted a promotion?” 2 On the other end of the line, Wyatt was practically screaming with excitement. He offered to come help me move, but I turned him down. If Caleb saw him, I was afraid he’d start a fight. It was better to keep things simple. I had a condo on the west side of town. Once this month’s bonus came in, I could finally pay off the mortgage completely. I would finally have a place of my own. The thought warmed me, chasing away some of the chill. The doorbell rang. I thought it was the movers and opened the door to find Caleb standing there. For a second, I was so surprised I thought I was imagining things. Last year, my appendix burst. I was in so much pain I passed out. I called him, begging him to come home and take me to the hospital. His voice was ice. “I’m at work, Clara. You’re a grown woman. Can’t you dial 911?” But last week, when Jenna spilled some warm water on her leg at the office and yelped in pain, he had scooped her up in his arms in front of everyone and driven her to the hospital himself. He never left work early. Unless it was for Jenna. She was the exception to all his rules. I guess today I was lucky enough to be an exception, too. His eyes scanned the packed boxes, and a flicker of panic, barely perceptible, crossed his face. “What is this?! What are you doing? Are you trying to force my hand by threatening to break up?” “Didn’t you see my texts? I explained everything. Jenna left those here by accident. It was raining that day, so I told her to come up for some ginger tea. Her stockings got snagged, so she just changed before she left.” I narrowed my eyes, thinking back. That was the week before last, when I was on a business trip. I’d flown back into a torrential downpour and asked him to pick me up from the airport. He’d said he was working late and told me to get a cab. When I got home, I saw the half-finished mug of ginger tea on the coffee table. I thought he’d made it for me. Turns out I was just drinking someone else’s leftovers. Maybe the same thought occurred to him, because his expression turned awkward. “Don’t overthink it.” I shook my head, my face calm. “I’m not. It doesn’t matter anymore.” A strange look crossed Caleb’s face. He stared at me for a long time. Finally, his voice was raspy, testing the waters. “Why aren’t you angry anymore?” So he knew I’d been angry before. He just hadn’t cared. Instead, he’d always scolded me, called me petty, said I had a dirty mind that saw the worst in everything. I was about to tell him I was moving out when his phone rang. It was Jenna, crying hysterically on the other end, claiming someone was bullying her. Caleb shot me a furious glare and sneered. “So this is your game. Nice move, Clara.” Before I could figure out what was happening, he grabbed my wrist, his grip like iron, and hauled me out to his car. The car smelled of a woman’s perfume. It was the same scent Jenna wore. Dangling from the rearview mirror was a cute little monster keychain, the same one as Jenna’s profile picture. I hadn’t been in his car since I started working at his company. He’d said he didn’t want people to gossip, so we had kept our entire relationship a secret. The territory that had once been off-limits to me was now completely occupied by someone else. I no longer felt that familiar ache in my chest. There was only a dull sense of inevitability. The moment we arrived at the office, Caleb roughly yanked me out of the car. My heel twisted, and I fell to the ground. He acted as if he didn’t even see it, letting out a cold laugh. “What’s with the act?” He grabbed me by the back of my collar and dragged me into the building like a bag of trash. 3 He dragged me all the way to my old desk. My wrists and knees were scraped and bleeding. I was on all fours on the floor, like a stray dog. Caleb pulled Jenna into a protective embrace, his voice a low warning to the onlookers. “I don’t care who put you up to this, but this is still my company, not Clara’s. Bullying an intern is not acceptable.” “If you want to keep your jobs, you’ll show me where your loyalties lie.” Brenda’s face was white as a sheet. She stood frozen, not daring to move. She had already texted me on the way over. After I left, Jenna was assigned to her team. An intern who loved to slack off and cut corners—what good could she possibly be? She’d messed up a simple lunch order for a client, and Brenda had said a few words to her. That was all it took for Jenna to call Caleb and tattle. Jenna buried her face in Caleb’s chest, the two of them oblivious to the world. “Caleb, I don’t even know what I did… I just saw the client was a little overweight, so I ordered him a salad. And Brenda just started yelling at me…” Caleb stroked her hair, promising to get her justice. His cold eyes swept across the room. “I know Clara was good friends with many of you. You saw she left, and you wanted to stand up for her. But she left because of her own professional failure, because she was too ashamed to stay. It has nothing to do with Jenna.” “I’ll say it one more time. Show me you want to be here, or you can all get the hell out.” Everyone’s face paled. They all understood his ultimatum. Amy, a junior associate I had personally trained, walked up to me. She squeezed her eyes shut, whispered, “I’m sorry,” and slapped me across the face. Caleb stood there, unmoved. “And the rest of you?” A line formed. One after another, they stepped forward, slapping me. Some were people I had helped, others were people who had helped me… Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth. My head was spinning, my ears were ringing, and the world was starting to go fuzzy. Jenna let out a giggle. “Caleb, look at her. She’s so pathetic. She looks like a swollen pig.” Caleb’s eyes were like ice. His words were even colder. “Someone this manipulative, who only knows how to play office politics, doesn’t deserve to be in our company.” “Her resignation is denied. She’s fired. And this year’s bonus is forfeited. It will be transferred to Jenna.” My eyes widened in disbelief. Rage, like a spider’s web, spread through my body, trapping my heart. “Caleb! I earned that! On what grounds?!” Company policy was to calculate bonuses based on the projects each person landed. From negotiations and drafting proposals to closing the deal and haggling with clients, I had done it all myself. To secure one more percentage point, I had drunk until the early hours of the morning. That bonus… that was the money I was going to use to pay off my mortgage. My parents divorced when I was young. Neither of them wanted me. They passed me back and forth like a soccer ball. I was left with my uncle, whose wife hated me. She was always threatening to kick me out if I didn’t behave. As a result, I grew up with a deep-seated fear of having nowhere to go. After I got with Caleb, I clung to him desperately, terrified he would leave me. I had to know where he was at all times. But even the most passionate love can be extinguished. I started putting my faith in money. I would use it to buy a house of my own. That way, if Caleb and I ever broke up, if he kicked me out, I wouldn’t be homeless. I worked like a madwoman, scraping together a down payment. All these years, I had scrimped and saved to make the mortgage payments. The stress was immense. I was losing hair, finding gray strands far too early. Caleb saw it all. He knew exactly how much this bonus meant to me. But now, his voice was mocking. “On the grounds that I own this company. And on the grounds that you bullied Jenna. You owe her this as compensation!” The words were stuck in my throat. A wave of nausea churned in my stomach, rising up my esophagus. A fifty-thousand-dollar bonus. He handed it over to an intern who had done nothing, just like that. I gritted my teeth against the dizziness as Caleb’s security guards threw me out of the building. The moment I was outside, a text from him arrived. What happened today was your fault. When I didn’t reply, another one came through. Fine, maybe I went a little too far. But that was because you showed Jenna no mercy. She’s my junior, after all. When you let people bully her like that, of course I’m going to get angry. I’m leaving for a business trip tomorrow. To France. That new bag you wanted is launching there. How about I buy it for you to make it up to you? He didn’t know that just a minute earlier, Jenna had already posted on her Instagram story. “Someone’s pulling some strings and taking me on his business trip, just because I said I wanted to see the Eiffel Tower~ Such a good boy~” I blocked them both without a second thought. A week later, Caleb returned from his trip. He held the new designer bag in his hand, a nervous feeling churning in his gut. He had planned to be gone for three days, but Jenna had dragged him from one sight to another, and he had completely forgotten to let Clara know. He’d come back today hoping to surprise her. The thought of Clara waiting for him at home warmed him, and he quickened his pace. He pushed open the door, calling her name twice. Silence. The boxes Clara had packed were gone. Everything that belonged to her was gone. Caleb’s breath hitched. His face went white. An unbelievable thought clawed its way into his mind. 4 A massive wave of panic washed over him. “No…” He knew how much Clara cared about him. Over the years, she had brought up marriage more than once. When a woman does that, it means she’s decided to spend her life with you. That’s why Caleb had always seen her as a sure thing. He never worried she would leave. All he had to do was say the word, and Clara would drop everything to meet him at the courthouse. Where else could she go? She had cut ties with her parents long ago. She was in touch with her uncle occasionally, but she knew his wife didn’t like her, so she would never go there. What about that small condo she’d bought with her down payment? Caleb’s eyes lit up for a second. He grabbed the bag and drove towards the west side of town. But when he got there, he stopped. Where was her condo? He didn’t know. A flash of annoyance crossed his face. He’d never thought she would actually move into that little place, so he had never bothered to learn the address. She had asked for his opinion when she was buying it, but he had just glanced at the brochure and said he didn’t know. And now, he had no way of finding her. It was only when he was driving that he realized Clara had blocked him on social media. He had no idea when she had done it. He hadn’t messaged her all week. Had she done it because she was jealous? He couldn’t be sure. He pulled out his phone and called her. The robotic voice of an AI operator that answered sent a jolt of pure panic through him. He had never dreamed that she would actually block him on everything. His mind flashed back to her face in his office that day, her calm expression as she’d said they should break up. He finally realized she had been serious. Caleb felt a thick rope slowly tightening around his chest, suffocating him. He clutched his shirt, squatting on the sidewalk, gasping for air. “Clara…” He was about to call in a favor to find her address when his phone rang. Wyatt’s triumphant voice filled his ear. “Caleb, I’m getting engaged. My girl just said yes.” “We’re having a party tonight. You should come.” A throbbing pain started in Caleb’s temples. He could hear the gloating in Wyatt’s voice, but he was in no mood for an engagement party. “I have something to do, I can’t…” But the man on the other end seemed to have anticipated his refusal. “You have to be there. You’re looking for someone, right? Come, and I’ll help you find her.” Caleb ignored the uneasy feeling in his gut and agreed. He didn’t know Wyatt that well—they’d just been classmates in college—but he knew Wyatt was the youngest son of the wealthy Nash family. He had resources. Finding one person should be easy for him. That evening, Caleb had planned to go to the party alone. But Jenna had somehow heard about it and insisted on coming along to “see the world.” After a moment’s thought, he agreed. I watched with amusement as Wyatt, like a peacock in full display, tried on five or six different suits in front of me. “Which one looks best?” I thought for a moment. “They all look good.” “Why did you have to invite Caleb?” Wyatt looked a little flustered. He quickly came over and took my hand. “You heard that? Are you mad? I’m just so happy…” I shook my head, smiling as I linked my arm with his, and we walked out together. The moment we entered the ballroom, a pair of eyes locked onto me. I followed the gaze and saw Caleb, trembling, all the color drained from his face. Under the bright lights, he looked like a ghost that had just been pulled from the water.

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I have a brother and a sister. For eighteen years, my parents had the master bedroom, my siblings shared the second room, and I slept on the balcony. So when my parents finally decided to upgrade to a four-bedroom house, I cried tears of pure joy. After the housewarming party, we chose our rooms. My parents took the master suite. My brother, Ross, picked the room next to theirs. My sister, Mia, smiling, moved into the northern bedroom. Excited, I headed toward the last room—but Mia stopped me. “Alex, wrong way. Your room’s over there.” She pointed to the balcony, where my familiar wooden bed waited. It hit me then: the problem was never the house size, but my place in their hearts. As I stood frozen, the others gathered in the last room—now a game room. Mia squealed with delight. Ross admired his sneaker shelf. My mom showed my dad his new ergonomic chair. “I finally don’t have to work at the dining table,” he said, touched. “Thanks, Mom! We love you!” they chorused. I watched them—a perfect, happy family—through the doorway. Tears streamed down my face. Even after ten years on the balcony, in this new house, there was still no room for me. An hour later, the novelty of their new shared space wore off, and they trickled out of the room. They finally noticed me, still standing in the same spot, my eyes red and swollen from crying. Mia, oblivious as ever, came over and poked my arm. “What’s wrong, Alex? Did the new house break your brain or something?” Ross let out a short laugh, but it died in his throat when he met my gaze. He walked over, trying to sound magnanimous. “Look, if you really don’t want the balcony, I guess we could switch.” Before I could even speak, my parents shot him down in unison. “Absolutely not! You’re studying for your grad school exams. You need proper rest.” A bitter wave washed over me. So they knew. They knew sleeping on the balcony meant you couldn’t rest properly. “But I have my college entrance exams coming up,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. I thought that might spark a flicker of guilt, but their expressions remained unchanged. “You’ve done it for ten years, you’re used to it,” my mother said. “Your brother isn’t.” My father’s stern gaze was laced with reprimand. “He’s a light sleeper, Alex. You know that!” My mother chimed in, her tone scolding. “Honestly, this boy. Always has to compare everything. You’re being so immature!” The tears I’d just managed to stop started flowing again, hot and unstoppable. Immature? How much more mature could I possibly be? There were three kids, and I wasn’t even the oldest, yet I was the only one who ever did chores. Even during my middle school finals, studying until midnight, I still had to find time to wash the dinner dishes, do the laundry, and mop the floors. With Ross’s offer vetoed, all eyes turned to Mia. She shrieked instantly. “You even think about making me sleep on the balcony, and I’ll make sure none of you get a wink of sleep, ever!” My mother stroked her hair with a look of helpless adoration. “Don’t you worry, my little princess. We’d make anyone sleep out there before you.” “That’s more like it,” Mia said, smugly. “I’ll let you off the hook for now. No need to call Grandma and Grandpa to complain.” I stood my ground, refusing to move my things to the balcony. The silence in the hallway was thick with tension. The urge to just turn around and walk out, to leave it all behind, pulsed through me, but I forced it down. Eight years of living as a guest in my aunt’s house had given me a desperate, bottomless craving for a real home. Even if this family didn’t cherish me the way I’d imagined, at least it was my home. At least I wasn’t a beggar living under someone else’s roof. Swallowing my hurt and resentment, I tried one last time, my voice trembling. “But what about the last room? Can’t I just stay there for a little while…?” “No!” This time, all four of them said it at once. The last, fragile flicker of hope for their affection died in my chest. With a furious roar, I swept my arm across the dining table, sending the carefully constructed pyramid of soda cans crashing to the floor. “If that’s how it is,” I choked out, my eyes burning, “then there’s no reason for me to be in this house at all.” I grabbed my worn-out duffel bag and stormed out without a backward glance. Just as I reached the elevator, a hand clamped down on the back of my collar. “Stop right there! Where do you think you’re going?!” my father yelled, his face purple with rage. “None of your business!” I shot back, my voice cold. It was the first time in my life I had ever spoken back to him, the first time I had ever defied him so openly. He froze for a second, stunned. Then, the sound of the slap was deafening. I stumbled backward, the force of it sending me crashing to the floor. The contents of my duffel bag spilled out around me. “Over a single room? You’d abandon your own parents over a room? Is it really worth it?!” he roared. I looked up at his furious face and screamed back, my voice even louder than his. “Yes! It is!” In the past, no matter how wronged I felt, I would have only offered a quiet, timid defense. I was weighed down by the shame of being the outsider, the latecomer to the family. I thought being obedient and invisible would earn their acceptance. But now I saw it clearly. All it ever got me was more pain. There was no point in trying to fit into a space where I would never belong. My mother rushed out after him. “What is wrong with this child? Do you only get happy when you’re making your parents miserable?” Her anger escalated until she was pointing a shaking finger at me. “Fine! You want a room so badly? You can have the master bedroom! Your father and I will sleep on the balcony! Are you happy now?!” She spun around as if to start packing, but Ross and Mia grabbed her arms. “Mom, you and Dad are the elders. We can’t have you sleeping on the balcony,” Ross said, then shot a resentful look at me. “Seriously, this was supposed to be a happy day, and it’s completely ruined by one selfish person.” Mia’s glare was pure poison. “Just keep it up, Alex. Maybe Mom and Dad will send you away again!” A violent tremor shot through my entire body. The hellish memories of my life at my aunt’s house before I was eight flooded back, replaying in horrifying detail. When I was four, I accidentally broke my cousin’s doll. My uncle’s face darkened, and he shoved me out the door. I spent the entire night curled up in the corner of the stairwell, sobbing until the sun came up. When I was eight, my cousin was playing with matches and burned half the apartment down, but she blamed it on me. My aunt and uncle tied me up and beat me with a leather belt until I was half-dead. That was the year my parents finally took me back. I thought the nightmare was over. I never imagined I would still be the one who didn’t belong. I couldn’t take it anymore. “You don’t have to send me! I’m leaving myself!” I tore myself from my father’s grasp, my face streaked with tears, and slammed the down button for the elevator. I ran out of the building, out of the complex, just ran. It was ten o’clock at night. All I had was a cheap phone that could only make calls. Not a single change of clothes. I stared at the thousands of warm, glowing windows in the distance, then collapsed onto the curb, sobbing uncontrollably, letting out all the years of bottled-up misery. “Alex? Is that you?” A familiar voice cut through my grief. I looked up. It was my classmate, Leo. Standing beside him were his parents, a kind-faced middle-aged couple. I’d been so excited about the new house that I’d told practically everyone I knew, so of course, he knew. “I thought you guys were moving in today,” he started, confused. “What are you doing out here so late…?” His mother cut him off. “Leo, didn’t you say you had some tough homework problems you needed Alex’s help with? This is perfect. Why don’t you invite him over?” Then she turned to me, her voice gentle. “Alex, our place is just around the corner. Would you mind coming over to help Leo out for a bit?” Leo, who knew bits and pieces about my family situation, caught on immediately. “Please, Alex? You’ve gotta help me,” he begged. Thinking of my cold family and my empty pockets, I numbly accepted their kindness and went home with them. Later that night, Mrs. Dallas sent a text to my parents for me, explaining that I’d be staying with them for the month leading up to the final exams. I overheard her on the phone with my mother. I heard my mother’s shrill voice rattling on about how immature and shameless I was, how I shouldn’t be imposing on another family just to “tutor.” She never once mentioned the balcony. She never once asked me to come home. For the next month, I became part of the Dallas family. Leo and I ate together, slept in his room, and went to school together. We studied late into the night, quizzing each other. I silently etched their kindness into my heart and swore I would ace my exams. I had to build a future for myself, a bright one that didn’t depend on anyone else’s approval. The month flew by, and the exams were over. In all that time, my parents had made a few half-hearted calls to Mrs. Dallas, offering to transfer money for my expenses, which she refused. When she did, they never tried to send it to me directly. They never called me once. But I saw them. Whenever I used my phone to look up study materials, their social media posts would pop up. Ross posted: Mom’s been making me a different kind of gourmet soup every day to keep my strength up for GRE prep. Best mom in the world. Mia posted: Dad promised me the new-gen console no matter what my final grades are! Love my family! Best parents ever! My parents were the first to like and comment: Our little family of four, always together. I also saw on my mother’s page that she had dismantled the wooden bed on the balcony and replaced it with two tiers of flower shelves. Her caption was heartfelt: Finally cleared out that eyesore. Now it’s just birdsong, fragrant flowers, and my two wonderful children. My life is finally perfect. So that was it. The days without me were their happiest. I finally understood that from the moment I was born, I was destined to be the extra piece that never fit. A sharp pain lanced through my chest, but it vanished as quickly as it came. The exam results were out. “Alex, did you see it? You’re number one! You’re the top scorer in the entire state!” Leo yelled, grabbing me in a hug and spinning me around. “You’re not so bad yourself,” I said, grinning. “Eighth in the city.” Leo’s parents walked over, smiling warmly. “It’s all thanks to you tutoring him this past month. With his old grades, he would’ve been lucky to get into any state college.” Leo stuck his tongue out sheepishly, then turned to me with genuine gratitude. “Seriously, man. Thanks.” “By the way,” Mr. Dallas said, “we’re planning Leo’s graduation party at The Grand Regency Hotel. If you don’t mind, we’d love for you to celebrate with us, as our guest of honor.” I immediately tried to refuse. I’d already imposed on them for a month; I couldn’t possibly crash their party. But Leo got angry. “You said yesterday you thought of me as a brother, and now you won’t even celebrate with me? Fine! I’m not talking to you anymore!” He pouted, turning his back on me. I was cornered. I had to give in. “Okay, okay, Leo, don’t be mad. I’ll be there.” “You know,” I added wistfully, “I’ve never had a party like that.” Leo’s face was a mask of disbelief. “What are you talking about? You were first in the city in middle school…” He trailed off, suddenly realizing. The three of them looked at me for a long moment. Their eyes held no surprise, no pity. Only a deep, aching sympathy that warmed me to my core. The emotions I had suppressed for so long surged up again. Strangers could see my pain, could care for me, could feel for me. But my own flesh and blood saw me as a burden, something to be ignored and mistreated. It was clear then. Blood isn’t what makes a family. I knew, with absolute certainty, that some people weren’t worth holding on to. On the day of the party, wearing a new shirt and slacks Mrs. Dallas had bought me, I went with them to The Grand Regency. During a trip to the restroom, I took a wrong turn and ended up in a different ballroom. I was about to leave when four familiar figures caught my eye, and I froze. There, on the main stage in the center of the room, were my father, my mother, Ross, and Mia, huddled together, beaming. “This son of mine has been brilliant since he was a boy,” my father announced, slinging an arm around Ross’s shoulders and holding up his grad school acceptance letter for all to see. “He’s bringing honor to the Clarke name!” “And our Mia is incredibly talented too!” my mother added. “Even if her grades weren’t the best, she’s a genius at dance. Just yesterday, she won a national junior dance award!” She finished by planting a proud kiss on Mia’s forehead. “You will always be your mother’s greatest pride, sweetie.” The room erupted in applause. Guests swarmed them, congratulating my parents on their good fortune, praising Ross and Mia for being so accomplished. The atmosphere was electric; everyone was radiant with joy. And then there was me, a lonely shadow in the doorway, completely out of place. I panicked, desperate to escape, but just as I turned to leave, a voice called out. “Alex? What are you doing here?” It was Ross. He was standing right in front of me, and behind him were Mia, and my parents. It had been over a month, and the look in their eyes wasn’t happiness or surprise. It was pure, undiluted disgust. As if I wasn’t their son, but the filthiest, most repulsive thing in the world.

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