Category: English

1. My wife and daughter had stumbled into the abandoned minefield on the back hills. Panic ripped through our small town. The urgent, distorted voice of the town’s emergency broadcast crackled to life, a desperate plea that echoed through the valley: “Jake Miller! You’re the only one who can defuse those military-grade mines! Get to the back hills! Your daughter needs you!” My neighbors dragged me from a poker game, their hands rough on my arms as they shoved me toward the hills. Through the barbed wire fence, I could see my daughter, her face smeared with blood and tears. “Dad, please, help us!” she screamed, her voice thin with terror. “You’re the inly one who can do this…” My face went pale. I grabbed my defusal kit and charged forward. The whole town thought I was rushing to save my family. But I wasn’t. I veered off, crouching down, moving slowly toward a small white mouse trapped in the corner of the field, its leg caught in the tripwire of a mine. “This kit,” I muttered to myself, “can only be used once.” And I was choosing to save the mouse. My daughter watched, her face crumbling in disbelief as I moved toward the animal. “Dad, are you crazy?” she shrieked. “What about me? I’m your daughter!” Her voice was a raw, hysterical cry of despair. “You’re saving a rodent instead of me?” My wife, Sarah, stared at me, her face ashen. “Jake, I’ve been a good wife to you all these years. How could you abandon us now for a mouse?” The townspeople watched, their faces a mixture of confusion and disapproval. I ignored them all. I gently freed the mouse, cupping it in my hands and brushing the dust from its white fur. “Jake, now that you’ve saved the animal, are you coming to save us?” Sarah’s voice was thick with unshed tears. I looked over at her and shrugged. “Forgot to mention,” I said, my voice casual, “the detector on this thing only works once.” Her eyes widened in horror. “Then what about me and Lily? What are we supposed to do?” Her voice escalated into a shrill scream. “Jake, I know you can build a new one! You know what these mines can do! You’re the only one in this whole town who can save us!” She was sobbing, her cries echoing in the tense silence. I just carefully set the mouse down and watched it scurry away, my gaze never once meeting theirs. It wasn’t until the villagers surrounded me, pushing and shoving, calling me heartless, that I finally turned around. I looked at the two weeping women and spat out, my voice dripping with annoyance, “You’re not dead yet, are you? What’s the rush? Trying to punch your ticket to the afterlife early?” Lily collapsed to her knees. “Dad, I don’t know what’s wrong with you. You used to love me more than anything. Are you really not going to save me?” She bowed her head, her forehead hitting the dusty ground. “I know you were away in the army for most of my life, but I’ve always loved and respected you. Is this because I said I wanted to marry that boy from the next town over? I won’t! I’ll do whatever you want! Just please, save me and Mom!” Sarah’s voice was a hoarse whisper. “Jake, this is nothing for you. I’ve seen you assemble those kits. It takes you three minutes! Do you have a heart? Are you really going to watch your wife and daughter die?” I had never seen her so broken, not in all our years of marriage. I just sat down on the ground, yawned, and pulled a deck of cards from my pocket. “We didn’t finish our game, Bill,” I said to my neighbor. “I had a straight flush.” Bill’s face paled. “Jake, that’s your wife and child in there! How can you be like this?” “They walked in there themselves,” I said coldly, not even bothering to look at him. “It’s their own damn fault. Am I supposed to take the blame for their stupidity?” Sarah’s eyes turned red. “Jake Miller! I thought we had a good marriage,” she screamed, her voice trembling. “I can’t believe you’d just leave us here to die!” She laughed, a bitter, broken sound. “Fine! I’ll walk out myself. If I die, Lily can use my body as a bridge!” “Good,” I said without looking up. “Go ahead and die.” Sarah froze, her foot hovering in the air. She slowly pulled it back, her face a mask of terror. Lily, in her panic, had fallen. Her face was a mess of dirt and blood. “Dad, if you don’t clear a path, we’re not getting out of here,” she sobbed. “I’m your only daughter. Are you really just going to watch me die?” One of our neighbors couldn’t take it anymore. “Jake,” he said, his voice pleading, “I’ve got some old supplies from my army days. I’ll bring them to you. Just please, save Sarah and Lily.” I shot him a look that could freeze fire. “When did I say I was going to save them?” Sarah’s tears flowed freely. They were both injured from an earlier blast when they had tried to retreat, and now they were too scared to move. Sarah’s right hand was gone, a bloody stump wrapped in a makeshift bandage. She pointed at me with her mangled arm, her voice choked with tears. “Jake, how can you be so cruel?” Lily’s voice joined hers, a chorus of accusation. “Dad, I’ve always been a good daughter to you! You could save us, but you used your only chance on an animal! Now Mr. Johnson is offering you more supplies and you won’t even lift a finger! Are you even human?” “I’m the only one with the skills,” I said, my voice flat and bored. “I save who I want to save. Besides, what were you two doing in the minefield in the first place? You make a stupid mistake and now you expect me to risk my life to clean up your mess? You’re grown women. It’s time you learned to take responsibility for your own lives. Begging me won’t do you any good.” “Jake,” Sarah’s voice trembled, “even if you won’t save me, Lily is your own flesh and blood! How can you watch her die?” I laughed, a cold, empty sound. “You’re the one who led her in there. You didn’t seem to care much about her life then. Don’t you dare talk to me about ‘family.’ My life is valuable. I’m not wasting it on you two.” I threw my cards on the ground in frustration. “Bill, I had a winning hand. You’re not trying to get out of paying me, are you? How about another round?” The villagers stared at me, their faces turning from shock to fury. One of the younger men stepped forward. “Jake Miller, we used to respect you. We called you ‘chief’ because we thought you were a decent man. But you won’t even save your own family. You’re not a man at all. We know you were a demolitions expert in the army. This is nothing to you. We’ve got the supplies. Why won’t you help them? Is your heart made of stone?” Before I could answer, a couple of them lunged at me, pushing me to the ground. I didn’t even flinch. I just slowly got to my feet, brushing the dust off my clothes with a contemptuous smile. “So, Bill, are we playing or not? If not, you at least owe me for the gas I spent getting here.” “Jake,” Sarah’s voice was raw, “why do you hate me so much? Whatever it is, we can sort it out later. Please, just save us!” I glanced at her, my voice dripping with scorn. “Weren’t you going to make a path for Lily with your dead body? Get to it.” I picked up my cards and dealt myself a new hand. A royal flush. I smiled. Lily stared at me, her face a mask of utter despair. She fell to her knees and began to beg, her forehead hitting the ground again and again. “Dad, please! I’ll be your slave for the rest of my life! I’ll never get married, I’ll take care of you forever! Just save us!” Her leg was a bloody mess, blood pooling around her torn jeans. But still, she knelt, her back straight, her eyes pleading. The sight of them, covered in blood, was horrific. Some of the villagers were crying, their hands over their mouths. “Jake Miller, are you a monster?” someone finally roared. “That’s your wife! Your daughter!” The shouting was getting on my nerves. I pushed through the crowd and yelled at Bill, “Alright, go get your damn kit!” A wave of relief washed over the crowd. “See?” someone said, “I knew he couldn’t be that heartless. Sarah and Lily must have done something to really piss him off. He was just teaching them a lesson.” Bill scrambled to bring me the supplies. I took the kit and looked at it. “This is the last one?” He nodded gravely. “The last one. You’ve only got one shot.” I nodded back and quickly assembled the new detector. Sarah and Lily watched, their faces filled with a desperate, fragile hope. I smiled at them, my voice light, as if the past hour had never happened. “Scared you, didn’t I? I just wanted to remind you not to come back here again.” Lily nodded vigorously. Sarah’s eyes were red. “Jake, I knew you wouldn’t leave us…” The next second, I walked to the edge of the cliff overlooking the ravine and, without a moment’s hesitation, threw the newly assembled kit over the edge. It shattered on the rocks below. Everyone froze. That was the last kit. Without it, Sarah and Lily were dead. The crowd erupted. “Jake Miller! You’re not a man, you’re a monster! You don’t deserve to be our town chief!” “You’re a cold-blooded bastard!” “I’m writing a letter to the county! I’m getting you removed from office!” I just stood there, facing their fury, and grinned. “Don’t forget,” I said, my voice calm and steady, “every single one of your businesses, your livelihoods… I brought that to this town. You want me gone? Fine. But don’t come crying to me when you’re starving.” Silence. They stared at me, their faces white with rage, but no one dared to say another word. Lily was losing a lot of blood. Her face was pale, her lips blue. She was fading. But with her last bit of strength, she screamed at me, “You don’t deserve to be my father! Even an animal protects its young! You’re a murderer!” She tried to stumble toward me, forgetting where she was. A deafening blast ripped through the air. Dust and smoke billowed up, and with it, a spray of red. “LILY!” Sarah’s scream was a sound of pure agony. When the smoke cleared, all that was left of Lily was her lower body. Her eyes were still open, staring at me with a look of pure, undiluted hatred. Sarah, covered in her daughter’s blood, crawled toward the remains. “Jake Miller,” she shrieked, “you killed your own daughter!” I just stood there and slowly, calmly, lit a cigarette. Sarah collapsed, a pool of blood spreading out from under her. The villagers finally lost it. “You’re worse than an animal, Miller!” “There’s a special place in hell for you!” Forgetting about their livelihoods, they began to draft a petition to have me arrested. That night, the county government took notice. A special investigation team was dispatched to our town. “Good,” I thought, taking a long drag from my cigarette. “Things are finally getting interesting. Now the truth can come out.” It took two days for the rescue team to get my wife out of the minefield. My daughter was long gone, just a charred pile of remains. As they carried Sarah out on a stretcher, she looked at me with eyes full of venom. “It was you, Jake,” she hissed. “You refused to save our daughter. You destroyed our only hope. If it wasn’t for you, Lily would still be alive.” I shrugged. “What’s it got to do with me? You’re the one who took her in there. You killed her, not me.” Sarah gasped, clutching her chest, and passed out. The lead investigator stepped forward. “Mr. Miller,” he said, his voice cold, “we’ve received numerous complaints against you. We’re here to investigate whether you intentionally harmed your family and refused to provide aid. Our background check shows that Sarah and Lily Miller have been nothing but a devoted wife and daughter. Everyone speaks very highly of them. They were always respectful and caring toward you. We want to know why you stood by and did nothing when you had the power to save them. You saved a mouse, but not your own family. Was it because your daughter wanted to marry someone you didn’t approve of? Is that why you wanted her dead?” I blew a smoke ring in his face. “This is a family matter. Are you really going to interfere?” A woman from the village pushed through the crowd. “He’s a heartless bastard!” she screamed, pointing at me. “Lily was such a good girl! She was the best kid in this whole county! Every time her teacher gave out treats, she’d save them for him! And he just let her die!” Sarah opened her eyes, her voice a trembling whisper. “I don’t know what happened to him. I don’t want anything from him anymore. I just want a divorce. I’m taking the TV, the refrigerator, everything. I’m not leaving you a damn thing.” I looked at her and smiled, a cold, cruel smile. “What makes you think any of that is yours? A divorce? You think you have any say in the matter?” I leaned in close, my voice a low whisper. “Is that your picture on our marriage certificate, Sarah?” Her eyes flew open, her face draining of all color. She stared at me, her eyes wide with terror. I just smiled. “It’s finally over.” I gestured toward the hospital entrance. Two figures, dressed in rags, were standing there. Sarah saw them, and a tremor ran through her body. Her pupils dilated, her mouth fell open.

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My senior year of high school, my parents cut me off. Completely. They demanded I drop out. With no other options, I walked into St. Jude’s Academy, a place crawling with trust fund babies and nepo babies. Because my grades were stellar, the school waived my tuition. But I still needed to eat. After starving for two weeks, wearing my most pathetic, threadbare clothes, I finally mustered the courage. I looked at the class of rich kids who never studied and said: “Hey… does anyone need their homework done? It’s… it’s only five bucks a pop.” The young masters and misses, busy flexing their wealth, stopped dead. They all stared at me in shock. A moment later, the room erupted: “Five bucks? Are you insulting me? Five hundred! Do mine first!” “I’ll pay five thousand! I’m first in line!” “Fifty thousand! US Dollars!” “Screw you guys! I’m lighting a sky lantern! Let’s see who dares outbid me today!” 1 The day I got kicked out, I had just started senior year. My dad, face twisted in rage, pointed a shaking finger at my nose. “Other girls your age are bringing in bride prices! But you? You’re just a money pit, spending my cash all day.” My mom chimed in, her voice dripping with false concern. “If you don’t marry, where will your brother get the money to marry and carry on the family line?” I clutched my stack of academic awards, screaming my defense until my throat was raw. It was useless. I ran away. My dad’s voice chased me out the door. “I’d like to see how you survive until college without us feeding you!” I took my transcripts and went from high school to high school. The answer was always the same: “Your grades are okay, but who knows if you’ll slip up senior year?” “We can only offer a tuition waiver.” That wasn’t enough. Clinging to my last shred of hope, I stood in front of St. Jude’s Academy. This place was rich kid central. Heirs and heiresses everywhere. Their daily routine was fighting and flexing. Nobody studied. In their world, the SATs were just a formality. They were all going abroad anyway. When I stood in the office, wearing clothes washed so many times the hems were fraying, the Dean looked down her nose at me. “You’re sure you want to come here? Aren’t you afraid of getting bullied?” I shook my head vigorously. “As long as you can waive the tuition and give me a tiny scholarship…” “Just a little… fifty, no, twenty bucks a month is fine. I’ll study hard. I’ll bring honor to the school.” The Dean agreed. I took the advanced scholarship check for two thousand dollars, thanked her profusely, and backed out. As the door closed, I heard her scoff. “Twenty bucks? Who does she think we are?” 2 I made it into the classroom. The noise of the rich kids died down instantly. They all sized me up with curious eyes. “What is she wearing? Are those holes intentional? Is this the new ‘Warzone Chic’ from Balenciaga?” “Why not Chanel?” “The fabric is holding up surprisingly well for being that worn. Must be off-brand. Only street stall stuff is that durable.” “Oh, you’re an expert? You wear that stuff?” “You dare accuse me of wearing street stall clothes? You’re dead! I’m telling my dad to pull funding from your dad’s company tomorrow…” Two rich kids started brawling. I kept my head down, walked past them, and found my seat. It was in the corner, right next to the trash can. I blocked out the gossip. I’d heard worse from my parents. The mockery of these pampered kids was nothing. Now I had a school. I had a shot at college. Nobody bullied me. During the break, a gorgeous girl even ran over to my desk, looking at me like I was a new species. “Hey, Perry,” she asked, genuinely curious. “Why are your clothes so tattered? Did you not like this season’s couture?” “Is it possible,” I said slowly, “that I just can’t afford it?” “Why not? Did you get your allowance cut? You can just draw from your trust fund.” I sighed. What is a trust fund? Chloe rested her chin on her hand. “How did you get here?” “Walked. Got up early.” “Why didn’t your driver drop you off?” “No driver. No car.” “Then why not ride your motorcycle?” “Don’t have one of those either.” “Oh, I get it. You only like helicopters, and yours was in the shop this morning, right?” I hid my face behind a book. Forget it. I can’t explain this. 3 Two weeks in, I was basically invisible. I huddled in my corner, grinding through practice problems. The teachers started to like me. Because I was the only one listening. I took notes, answered questions, and saved them from the awkward silence of an empty room. But my focus was slipping. I was hungry. So hungry I wanted to gnaw on the desk. Tuition was free, but I had to pay for housing. The Dean refused to let me live in the dorms. She said my background was too “different” and the other students wouldn’t accept it. I had to rent a place. Rent was insane. I begged the landlord until he agreed to take six months upfront. My two thousand dollars instantly became one hundred. In this city, where land is gold, that only got me a tiny attic room in the boonies. The last hundred went to utilities. I was broke. My grades weren’t good enough for Ivy League yet, so I didn’t dare ask the Dean for more money. Living in that hellhole at home had destroyed my study time. Despite killing myself to catch up, my junior year scores were only good enough for a state school. I wasn’t the main character in a novel who could date, slack off, and still get a perfect SAT score. My stomach had been empty for over eight hours. Breakfast was a piece of steak and half a tuna sandwich I fished out of the school trash can. Delicious, but tiny. I licked my lips and looked up at my classmates as the final bell approached. They were discussing which golf course to hit or whose yacht to party on. I pinched my arm hard, summoned every ounce of courage I had, and asked timidly: “Um… excuse me… does anyone need their homework done? It’s… it’s only five bucks a copy.” 4 I had never seen these kids do homework. Whenever the teacher assigned it, I was the only one writing it down to do later under my scavenged lamp in that stifling attic. After I spoke, the room went silent. The flexing stopped. Everyone looked at me like I’d grown a second head. Chloe gasped. “Class Prez, you do homework?” Since the teachers loved me, I had been promoted to Class President. Which meant I also did all the cleaning. My voice was barely a squeak. “Yes. I write fast and accurate. If you need a ghostwriter, consider me.” “I don’t charge much. Five bucks a paper. Buy five, get one free.” Thinking about how rich their families were, I quickly added: “Price is negotiable if that’s too high.” Shock cracked across their faces. Then, chaos erupted. “Five bucks? Are you looking down on me? Five hundred! Do mine first! Let my dad see his son loves learning!” “Five hundred? Embarrassing. I’ll pay five thousand! I’m first!” “Fifty thousand! US Dollars! I have nothing but money!” “Sky lantern! I want to see who dares outbid me today!” 5 The classroom was a zoo. The bids were getting ridiculous. It was like I was selling a Picasso, not Algebra II homework. I waved my hands frantically. “Just five bucks! I can’t take more. If you want it done, I’ll go in order.” “It’s all STEM stuff anyway, I can do it fast.” Business needs to be sustainable. I was afraid if I took too much, their parents would find out. Freshman year, I did homework for six bucks. A parent checked the accounts, found out, and screamed at my door for an hour. The shouting continued until Chloe secured the first slot. She triumphantly transferred me twenty bucks. My second-hand phone lagged for a solid minute before the notification popped up. I stared at the balance. Twenty dollars. “Don’t worry, Miss Chloe. I promise to make your homework look beautiful tonight.” I made a hundred bucks that day. Five orders. I worked until 1 AM. To ensure quality, I never took more than I could handle. The next day after school, I was staring at a fresh hundred-dollar transfer, about to shoulder my Chanel backpack (scavenged from the trash), when I was blocked. The class’s richest, most volatile Queen Bee stood in my way. She tapped her diamond-encrusted nails and nodded at her two minions. “Drag her to the bathroom!”

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The day before her graduation party, my sister was raped and murdered in a back alley. And I was trapped in that day forever. Countless times, I thought, “If only I hadn’t wanted ice cream,” “If only I hadn’t taken the shortcut to get home faster…” maybe she would still be alive. When I opened my eyes again… I was back in that summer. 1 That year, it was the hottest summer on record. The temperature hit 106 degrees. My sister, Maya, was the top scorer in the city. I had just barely scraped into a prestigious high school. Our future was bright. Maya’s familiar voice reached my ears again after ten years: “Take a shortcut? Don’t you want to catch Grey’s Anatomy at 7:30?” Tears gushed out uncontrollably. Through my blurry vision, the clock on the wall behind Maya read 7:15 PM… The countdown to death had begun! I shuddered and almost screamed: “No! Mom and Dad said those alleys are dangerous!” Maya was startled by my outburst: “Since when are you such a chicken, Dodo?” “Okay, okay, we won’t take the shortcut. Don’t cry!” I looked at Maya’s vivid, lively face. The face that had been crushed and covered in blood in my nightmares countless times. I swore in my heart. This time, I absolutely would not let anything happen to Maya! 2 My voice was tight: “I saw on the news recently that bad things happen in those alleys. Let’s stick to the main road!” Maya chuckled: “Alright, safety first. Good job!” She spoke to me like I was a child. She was only three years older than me. She was just a kid too, but she always yielded to me, spoiled me. And because of me, she lost her future. I stared at the digital watch on my wrist. 7:17 PM. In my past life, not wanting to miss the drama at 7:30, I insisted on taking a shortcut and dragged Maya into the alley. At a fork in the alley, a dark figure suddenly lunged out and covered Maya’s mouth with a towel. I screamed my lungs out, but no one answered in the deserted alley. Maya slumped to the ground. The man picked up a brick and smashed it into my head. I fell into a stinking pile of garbage, like a dying fish, watching helplessly as Maya was stripped and murdered. Thinking of this, I couldn’t stop shivering. It was still light out at this time in summer, and there were plenty of pedestrians on the street. Street vendors were selling hot dogs and pretzels on the sidewalks. My palms were sweating profusely. My throat was dry. I kept comforting myself. He wouldn’t dare to commit a crime in broad daylight, right? Maya turned to look at me: “Dodo, I noticed you haven’t said a word the whole way. Did the sun rise in the west today?” Yeah, I used to be a chatterbox. I could write a dissertation on whether Team Edward or Team Jacob was better. When Maya called me “Little Sparrow,” I proudly declared I would become a teacher even more talkative than her homeroom teacher. Maya laughed, saying, “I pity the class that gets you.” That noisy me, full of longing for the future… Died with Maya that summer. The smile was still on Maya’s face. “Wait, don’t tell me—” Her voice cut off abruptly. All expression on Maya’s face froze instantly, eyes widening in shock. Bright red blood sprayed from her slender neck. She opened her mouth, seeming to want to grab something, and fell straight forward. “Ah—” “Psycho—” “Murder—” Chaos erupted around us, screams filling the air. My mind went blank. A cold blade plunged fiercely into my back. The immense impact made me stumble forward. I turned my head in excruciating pain— It was that masked man! Those eyes were staring straight at me. Why! Why did we meet him again this time! He roared like a beast: “B*tches!” “You all deserve to die!” 3 In my past life, he was the same. While stripping Maya, he kept cursing. “Deserved!” “I’m doing God’s work!” “Women deserve to die!” As if he harbored monstrous hatred. But we didn’t even know him… Opening my eyes again, I gasped for air. Looking around, I was back in the convenience store. The clock on the wall read 7:15 PM. Maya’s voice rang out again: “Take a shortcut? Don’t you want to catch Grey’s Anatomy at 7:30?” I immediately rushed inside the store, turning back to Maya: “I want to see what snacks they have.” Maya followed me in, looking puzzled: “Weird. Usually, you can’t even miss the opening theme.” I thought hard. Maybe that killer just wanted to commit a random crime? Not finding anyone in the alley, he went to the main street. In the first timeline, when the police found him, he had already committed suicide at home. The police came to my house with a photo asking if I knew him. I had never seen the man in the photo. Neither Maya nor I could have known him. It shouldn’t be a revenge killing… I read in detective novels that people like him might just hate society. So this time, we’ll stay in the store a bit longer. Surely we can avoid him, right? 4 I touched every bag of chips on the shelf, picked it up, put it down. That summer, the packaging for Lay’s chips hadn’t changed yet. In elementary school, Maya, being in middle school, had a daily allowance of two dollars. It was a huge sum to me. I pestered her to buy me chips. One bag each. It tasted better than any Michelin-starred meal. “Miss.” A little boy looked up and pleaded: “Can you help me get the magic pills?” I froze: “Magic pills?” Maya chuckled, reaching up to grab a pack of Maltesers and handing it to the boy. The boy jumped happily: “With these magic pills, mom and I can live forever!” Magic pills… I used to chase Maya around, shouting spells from Harry Potter. The sunset completely covered the small shop. Memories of the past glowed golden in the evening light. Interrupted suddenly by the shop owner’s voice— “What do you need?” Then a raspy voice: “Lighter.” The owner said lazily: “Two bucks.” I instinctively peeked out from the aisle. It was him. He was still wearing a mask! He took the lighter, excitement flashing in his eyes, and unscrewed the cap of the water bottle in his hand. The owner shouted: “Hey! What are you doing!” Immense fear struck me. I screamed at the top of my lungs: “Run!” “He’s crazy!” But it was too late. The convenience store was instantly engulfed in flames. The smile on Maya’s face was replaced by terror in a split second. A woman’s cry came from outside. “Save my son! He’s only five, he’s still inside!” “Please, save him!” … 5 4 dead, 1 injured in the convenience store fire. In this sudden disaster, I was the sole survivor. Burns covering 90% of my body left me lying in a hospital bed all day. Sinking into endless regret. My self-righteousness not only failed to save Maya… But killed more innocent people. In the first timeline, the memory of the shop owner giving us wedding candy was still vivid. Her face was all smiles: “My brat is finally getting married! You all must come to the wedding next month!” And now? She would never see her son get married. And that little boy, his mom used to complain to neighbors at the street corner: “All he does is play! Got a zero on his test! I’m so mad.” Just yesterday, she jumped from the roof, leaving a long letter on the table. She said in her next life, she still wants to be his mom. I killed them. My parents’ hair turned white overnight. My once-talkative father became silent, and my mother’s eyes were swollen like walnuts, yet she forced herself to comfort me: “Don’t be scared, Dodo… being alive is good, being alive is good…” “Mom and Dad will always be with you…” Neighbors whispered at the door: “Sigh, the Luo family is cursed. Their eldest daughter could have gone to Ivy League.” “Exactly. The younger one got into a top high school too, and now…” “How will they live… a good family, ruined.” Yes. A good family ruined. I am everyone’s curse. Why wasn’t it me who died? Maya’s classmates, some held acceptance letters from top universities, becoming elites in big tech companies years later. Some became influencers with millions of followers. Some started businesses, went abroad, started families… Only my sister. Only she was left forever, lonely, in that hottest summer. When I was about to drown in despair, a man in uniform entered the ward. He walked to my bed, holding a photo of a man, looking solemn: “Do you know this person?” That face… I wanted to tear him to pieces! In the first timeline. They had already asked me with this photo. The man in the photo had an extremely ordinary, dull face. Corners of his mouth slightly drooping. Looked like he was about our age. I searched my memory for this face again. But I really didn’t know him. I shook my head. The police officer frowned tightly. His next words made me gasp. “However, when we investigated his home, we found something extremely unusual.” “His room was covered with photos of your sister!” My heart stopped. “And in his diary, we found a lot of content about your sister. He described your sister, Maya, as his girlfriend.” “Think carefully, did your sister ever mention this person?” No! Impossible! Absolutely impossible! She said before college, she would only focus on her studies! I struggled, wanting to ask more— What else was written in his diary? What was his motive? The police officer’s lips were still moving, but I couldn’t hear any sound. My vision went black.

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Answering an emergency call got me reported for a “bad attitude,” and my department head fired me on the spot. The patient’s mother gloated, “Good. You deserve to be unemployed.” So I walked away and took a job at a private institute for triple the salary. The next day, that same mother burst into my new ER, clutching her child. “Please, I’m begging you, save my son!” Her son had a rare disease. Only three doctors in the entire city knew how to treat it. Two of them were overseas. The third one was me. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m no longer a doctor at your hospital.” My old department head showed up with the hospital president. “Name your price! Anything!” I pointed at the mother. “I want her on her knees outside my mother’s ICU room until the day my mother walks out of it.” Three months later, I took half of my old department’s doctors with me. 01 It was two in the morning, and the emergency room at City General Hospital was a gaping, unhealing wound in the belly of the sleeping metropolis. The air was a thick, suffocating cocktail of antiseptic, iron-rich blood, and the sour tang of vomit. The hallways were crammed with temporary gurneys. A desperate symphony of moans, coughs, the anxious whispers of families, and the incessant, rhythmic beeping of monitors filled the space. I was wearing a white coat stained with blood and God knows what else, having been on my feet for eighteen consecutive hours. The soles of my feet felt like I was walking on shattered glass; every step was a fresh stab of pain. My eyelids were leaden weights. A relentless, pounding drumbeat throbbed at my temples. My brain felt like it was pickling in formaldehyde—dull, slow, and numb. I was in the middle of administering a nebulizer treatment to a patient having a severe asthma attack when my phone began to vibrate violently, as if possessed. The screen lit up with the caller ID: “Nanny.” Beneath it, a glaring notification: 12 Missed Calls. My heart plummeted. A cold dread seized my throat. I answered, and the nanny’s hysterical sobs exploded through the receiver. “Dr. Ross! Your mother… her heart… it stopped! The ambulance isn’t here yet!” BOOM. My mind went blank. The world fell silent, replaced by a high-pitched ringing in my ears. The nebulizer mask slipped from my hand and shattered on the floor. It took me a few seconds to find my voice, and when I did, it was a ragged, trembling mess. “Now! Start chest compressions, now! The way I showed you! Push hard! Don’t stop!” My voice was shrill with terror, completely out of control. A woman holding a child, who had been glaring at me with impatience, shot to her feet. Her name was Sharon. I remembered her. Her son had a simple fever, but she’d been raising hell in the ER for two hours. “Doctor! Have you no professional ethics? My son has been waiting with a fever for two hours, and you have time to be on a personal call?” Her voice was sharp and acidic, every word a poison-tipped dart. Tears of panic were welling in my eyes. I couldn’t spare her a glance. I screamed into the phone, “Push hard! Do you hear me? Don’t stop! Whatever you do, don’t stop!” “What is this attitude?” Sharon suddenly raised her phone, the camera pointed directly at me. “This is how City General treats its patients? I’m reporting you! I’m putting this all over the news!” My eyes were bloodshot. I was practically begging. “My mother is in cardiac arrest. Can you please, just let me finish this call?” “Everyone has emergencies!” Sharon sneered, her face a mask of spiteful righteousness. “So your mom is in a rush, but my son isn’t? If my son’s brain gets damaged from this fever, are you going to take responsibility? Why is your emergency more important than his? You’re just trying to slack off!” Her words were a poisoned blade, twisting into my most vulnerable spot. Just then, the department head, Dr. Evans, arrived, drawn by the commotion. The practiced, bureaucratic smile on his face vanished the moment he saw the video Sharon was recording. He yanked me into a nearby office, the door slamming shut behind us, muffling the chaos outside. “Lena,” he began, wringing his hands, his face a mask of deep disappointment. “Look at this. The optics are terrible. Doctor-patient relations are so tense right now. You’re making the hospital look bad.” I was shaking all over, my voice choked with sobs. “Sir, my mom… she’s in cardiac arrest, I…” “That’s enough,” Dr. Evans cut me off, his tone shifting to cold and clinical. “You’re suspended, effective immediately. Come in tomorrow to handle your termination paperwork.” I looked up, incredulous, feeling as though a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head. “What… what did you just say?” Dr. Evans avoided my eyes, his gaze fixed on a plaque of hospital regulations on the wall. “You’re not a rookie, Lena. You know how important the patient relationship is. My hands are tied. I have to placate the family.” The office door burst open. My colleague, Dr. Cole, stormed in, his face livid. “Sir! Dr. Ross has worked three straight double shifts! Her mother is dying, and you’re going to—” “Enough!” Dr. Evans waved his hand dismissively, as if shooing a fly. “This is the hospital’s decision! It’s final!” From the doorway, Sharon poked her head in, a triumphant smirk plastered across her face. “That’s more like it. A bad attitude deserves to be punished. She deserves to be unemployed.” That smile was a physical pain in my eyes. I bit my lip so hard I could taste the metallic tang of blood. Without a word, I tore off the heavy, stained white coat—the one that carried the blood and fluids of strangers—and threw it onto Dr. Evans’s pristine desk. Then, I turned and ran. “Lena!” Dr. Cole yelled after me. But I was already in the elevator. The doors slid shut, sealing me off from the world. The stark, white light of the hospital corridor was sliced into a thin line, then vanished. In the small, silent box, I leaned against the cold metal wall, the strength draining out of me all at once. And finally, the tears came. 02 I ran into Central Medical Center like a madwoman. The red light above the ICU pulsed like an ominous eye in the bleached-white hallway. Our nanny was waiting by the doors, her eyes swollen shut. Seeing me, she broke down completely. “The doctors said… they said it’s really bad…” The heavy automatic doors slid open, and a doctor in green scrubs emerged. When I saw his face, I froze. It was Mark. My ex-boyfriend. He looked at me without a flicker of emotion. The eyes that had once held so much love for me were now filled with nothing but professional detachment. “Family? You need to sign here.” His voice was flat, devoid of any feeling. My hand trembled as I took the pen. The words on the page danced and blurred before my eyes. “How… how is she?” My voice was a broken whisper. Mark’s tone was as clinical as if he were reading a weather report. “Acute myocardial infarction. She missed the golden window for resuscitation. The prognosis is not good.” My knees buckled. I had to grab the wall to keep from collapsing. “It’s my fault… it’s all my fault… I wasn’t there in time…” A tidal wave of guilt and self-loathing crashed over me. Mark watched me, a flicker of something like scorn in his eyes. “You’re a doctor, aren’t you? How did you not know your own mother had a severe heart condition?” My face was as white as a sheet. My lips moved, but no sound came out. “Her… her check-ups were always normal. I didn’t know… I really didn’t know…” “We’ll observe her for the next 24 hours,” he said, taking the signed form and turning to leave. He took two steps, then paused and looked back. His next words were spoken softly, but they landed with the force of a physical blow. “I heard you got fired from City General.” I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. I said nothing. A corner of his mouth lifted in a sarcastic smirk. “You always said your career was more important than our relationship. Well, look at you now. You don’t have a career anymore, either.” I closed my eyes, letting the hot tears trace cold paths down my cheeks. The bench outside the ICU was hard and cold. I pulled my thin jacket tighter around me and didn’t sleep a wink. At 5 a.m., my phone lit up. It was a text from Dr. Cole. It’s all over the department. Dr. Evans singled you out in the morning meeting. Said you were a disgrace to the ER, a gross violation of professional ethics. I stared at the words, a sharp pain lancing through my heart. Another text followed. The head nurse is telling everyone in the group chat that you got what you deserved. That you were always so aloof and never fit in, and now it’s karma. A smile that was more like a grimace stretched my lips. My “aloofness” was just my refusal to play their political games, to join the gossip circles, to suck up to Dr. Evans, to sign off on unnecessary tests for patients. In their eyes, that was being stuck-up. At 8 a.m., the sun came up. The hallway began to fill with people. A few doctors I recognized from medical conferences walked past. They saw me sitting outside the ICU, but they averted their gazes and quickened their pace, pretending I wasn’t there. I even heard one of the younger nurses whisper to her friend, “Look, that’s her. The one who got fired for offending a patient’s family. She totally brought it on herself.” The whisper was quiet, but it drilled into my ears. I didn’t even have the strength to argue. My phone chimed again. A text message. It was my landlord. Lena, rent is due this month. I opened my banking app. The account balance was a glaring, negative red number. I had forgotten. The hospital had already frozen my direct deposit. The nanny brought me a bowl of steaming porridge. “Dr. Ross, you haven’t eaten since yesterday. Please, have something…” I looked at the simple millet porridge in the thermos, exactly the way my mom always made it for me after a long night shift. The tears started again, fat, uncontrollable drops splashing into the warm porridge, vanishing without a trace. My life, it seemed, had been stirred into the same messy, indistinguishable pulp. 03 On the third morning, I was still keeping vigil outside the ICU, a soulless statue carved from grief. A well-dressed, distinguished-looking man in his fifties walked toward me. The nanny saw him and jumped to her feet. “Director Finch! What are you doing here?” I recognized him. He was Dr. Alistair Finch, the president of the prestigious Sterling Institute, and one of my mother’s old university classmates. Dr. Finch’s gaze settled on me, his deep-set eyes full of sympathy. “I heard about what happened with your mother. Lena, my dear, are you alright?” I managed to pull the corners of my mouth into a stiff smile. “Thank you for your concern, Dr. Finch.” He dispensed with the pleasantries and got straight to the point. “Lena, I want you to come work for me at The Sterling Institute. Three hundred and fifty thousand a year, your own private clinic, and you can build your own team.” I was stunned, my mind struggling to process his words. “Dr. Finch, in my current situation…” “I know you were fired,” he interrupted, his voice steady and firm. “But I’m hiring you for your skill as a physician, not for a work history that has been unjustly destroyed.” I shook my head, my voice hoarse. “Right now… I can’t even think about that…” Dr. Finch suddenly lowered his voice, and what he said next made the blood freeze in my veins. “Don’t you want to know why your mother’s heart condition suddenly became so critical?” My head snapped up. I stared at him. “What… what do you mean?” “She’s been getting her arrhythmia medication from City General for a long time, correct?” Dr. Finch’s gaze was sharp. “I’ve reviewed her chart. She had a minor arrhythmia. It should never have progressed to full cardiac arrest.” My breathing quickened. A terrible thought began to form. “But… but all her recent check-ups were normal!” Dr. Finch looked at me pointedly. “Normal check-up reports, but an abnormal reaction to her medication. Lena, the pharmaceutical procurement at City General… it’s a corrupt system.” All the color drained from my face. I remembered. My mother had been complaining recently that the hospital’s medication made her feel worse, that her heart raced more after taking it than before. At the time, I dismissed it as a side effect. I told her to give it time. How could I have been so careless? “If you want to find the truth, you need a platform, one that isn’t controlled by City General’s politics,” Dr. Finch said, his words like a key unlocking the door to vengeance in my heart. “My institute can give you that platform.” I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms. The sharp pain brought me a terrifying clarity. “I accept,” I said. My voice was quiet, but each word was laced with ice. Dr. Finch nodded, satisfied. “Good. Come in tomorrow to sign the contract. I’ve already had it drawn up.” He turned to leave, then paused. “By the way,” he added. “The head of procurement at City General, a Director Jennings, just booked a twenty-thousand-dollar executive health screening package for his entire family at our institute last week.” I drew a sharp, ragged breath. Director Jennings’s salary was barely six figures. Where did he get that kind of money? In that moment, I knew with absolute certainty: what happened to my mother was no accident. It was an attack. I looked through the thick glass of the ICU window at my mother, lying motionless, a tangle of tubes keeping her alive. I made a silent vow. Whoever did this to her, I would make them pay. In blood. 04 The Sterling Institute was a gleaming thirty-two-story tower of glass and steel in the city’s most affluent district, a modern temple of medicine. There was none of the crowding, chaos, or despair of City General. Here, there was only quiet, light, and a reassuring sense of order. The head of HR showed me to my new office. “Dr. Ross, this is your private clinic. Two thousand square feet, fully equipped with the latest diagnostic technology imported from Germany.” I stood before the massive floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the river of traffic below. It felt like another world. Just three days ago, I was fighting with a patient’s family over a single gurney in an ER so cramped you could barely turn around. The HR manager handed me a beautifully bound contract. “Dr. Ross, your base salary is three hundred and fifty thousand, with quarterly bonuses and project-based incentives. All benefits are at the highest tier.” I signed my name, “Lena Ross.” The nib of the pen scratched against the paper. It felt unreal, like a dream too good to be true. Meanwhile, back at City General, the head nurse was showing her phone to Dr. Evans. “Sir, look. That woman, Lena Ross, went to Sterling. I heard they’re paying her three hundred and fifty grand a year,” she said, her voice dripping with envy. Dr. Evans took a sip from his thermos and sneered. “Private hospitals are all smoke and mirrors. They’ll say anything to create buzz. Who does she think she is, some kind of miracle worker? Just wait. See how long she lasts.” Across town, in a neighborhood online group, Sharon was bragging about her “victory.” “You guys, that super rude doctor I told you about? I got her fired! That’s how you deal with these people who take your money and don’t do their jobs!” The chat filled with likes and supportive comments. “You go, Sharon! Someone had to teach them a lesson!” “Exactly! We’re the customers! They’re supposed to provide a service! If they have a bad attitude, they shouldn’t be doctors!” Sharon beamed at her phone screen, then hugged her son and kissed his cheek. “See, baby? Mommy will always stand up for you.” She was so absorbed in her triumph that she didn’t notice the unnatural flush on her son’s face. Back at the Sterling Institute. Dr. Finch knocked and entered my office. “Lena, this is your team. Three assistants.” Three young people stood behind him. One of them, a young woman, saw me and gasped. “Dr. Ross!” I recognized her. It was Mia, one of my former medical students. “Mia? What are you doing here?” Mia shuffled her feet, embarrassed. “Dr. Ross, I… I was also ‘let go’ from City General…” A warmth spread through my chest. I walked over and patted her shoulder. “It’s alright. You’re with me now. We’re going to do great work here.” The other two assistants, both recent graduates, introduced themselves, their eyes shining with respect. That afternoon, my first consult request arrived. A VIP patient, the chairman of a major local corporation. He’d had a persistent high fever for three weeks, had been to every major hospital in the city, and undergone countless tests, all inconclusive. I studied the thick file of medical records, my brow furrowing. “Let me see the patient,” I said to Mia. In the hospital room, the family crowded around me, their faces etched with anxiety. A middle-aged woman with red-rimmed eyes grabbed my arm. “Doctor, please, you have to save my father! Money is no object!” I approached the bed. The patient was semi-conscious, his breathing shallow. I began a thorough physical examination. As my fingers touched his fingertips, I noticed a subtle detail that had clearly been overlooked—slight clubbing at the ends of his fingers. The name of an extremely rare but highly fatal disease flashed in my mind. I looked up, my voice firm and unwavering. “Prep for a bronchoscopy, now. And run a serum G-test and GM-test, stat!”

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On the first day of freshman year, I excitedly brought local snacks to share with my new roommates. But as soon as I finished introducing myself, my three roommates suddenly pushed me out the door, resolutely refusing to share a room with me. They even dragged the Resident Advisor into it. The RA had no choice but to scramble and coordinate a new room for me. But the moment I arrived at the new room, before I could even wheel my luggage in, I was met with fierce resistance from the new roommates. They wouldn’t even let me in the door, claiming they’d rather drop out than live with me. I was completely baffled, thinking someone had been spreading rumors about me. But I’d never offended anyone. I scoured the class group chats, campus forums, and confession pages, but found nothing about me. I asked other classmates. They were friendly one minute, but the moment I mentioned becoming their roommate, their faces changed instantly. Yet no one would tell me why. 1 “Sir, we absolutely refuse to be his roommate.” “Yeah, if I have to room with him, I’m dropping out.” “This…” Seeing his persuasion falling on deaf ears, the Resident Advisor looked at me helplessly. “Sorry guys, can you at least tell me why?” “I’m really easy to get along with. I lived in dorms in high school, I promise I’m not high-maintenance.” I carefully grabbed one of the students, hoping he’d give me a reason. He just glanced at me and shook off my hand. “No reason. We just refuse to room with you.” I leaned against the doorframe, looking at my homeless luggage, feeling like I was about to break down. I’ve always been introverted and quiet. Although I don’t have many friends, I’ve never made enemies. I didn’t understand why, in a new city, a new school, facing complete strangers… Everyone was so resistant, refusing to be my roommate. “Sorry, Julian. I really can’t find anyone willing to room with you right now.” “The school doesn’t have single rooms. How about you stay in a hotel for now, and I’ll try to coordinate another room for you?” “Don’t worry, maybe there’s just a misunderstanding. It’ll clear up once people get to know you.” The RA patted my back soothingly. Right, did someone say something about me? The RA’s words reminded me. I immediately checked the class group chat, the school’s online forum, and the confession wall. I scrolled to the bottom but found nothing about me. Besides, I was the only one from my high school to get into this university. There shouldn’t be anyone here who knows me, let alone badmouths me. Just as I was racking my brain, someone called out to me in the classroom. “Julian, what a coincidence! You’re in my class?” I looked up and saw the first person I met at this school, Zack. I met him on the way to registration. He had low blood sugar and almost fainted. I gave him a drink and some bread just in time, which helped him recover. We were busy moving luggage then, so we just exchanged contacts and parted ways. I didn’t expect him to be my classmate. “Zack, do you have an empty bed in your room? Can I be your roommate?” I grabbed Zack like a drowning man clutching a straw. 2 I just helped him. He should know what kind of person I am. Even if someone badmouthed me, he shouldn’t believe it. It just so happened that the RA and I had visited almost every room except the last one. I was too disheartened to go. Unexpectedly, Zack was in that last room. I waited expectantly for Zack to nod. But to my surprise, hearing that I wanted to be his roommate, Zack’s face changed instantly. “No, our room is full.” “They won’t agree to room with you.” Zack dropped his smile and looked at me warily. “Zack, why? Why don’t you want to be my roommate?” “You know I’m not a bad person.” I tugged at Zack, on the verge of collapse. I didn’t expect him to be my roommate anymore. I just wanted to know the reason. I could change whatever it was. But he yanked his hand away. “No reason. Just don’t want to room with you.” Helpless, I posted on Reddit for advice. We’re all classmates, why is there not a single person willing to accept me as a roommate? Kind netizens quickly offered many theories. “Did someone say you have an infectious disease?” I stared at this comment, realization dawning. Recently, there were rumors about students with HIV entering schools. To prevent discrimination, names are usually kept confidential. Did someone say something to make people think I have an infectious disease? I immediately booked a full physical examination at the hospital. I tested for every possible infectious disease. A few days later, the report came out. All negative. I didn’t have any infectious diseases. Excitedly, I projected the report on the big screen in class. To prevent doubts about Photoshop… I even logged into the hospital’s system on the spot to show the electronic report. I thought the misunderstanding would be cleared, and someone would accept me. But to my surprise, I asked every classmate, and still, no one was willing. Mentioning moving in made them threaten to drop out. Now, even the netizens were stumped, suspecting I was hiding something. The comments turned from helpful to sarcastic. “Clickbait, bet the OP is a scammer.” “Only telling your side of the story? Why would everyone hate you for no reason? You must be hiding something.” “Next time I see a post like this, I’ll win the lottery.” My DMs filled with abuse. Breaking down, I deleted the post. 3 My situation soon spread to other classes in the department. Without knowing the truth, some said I did something unforgivable, others said I had a terrible disease. Walking through the department building, I felt people pointing and whispering. I stayed in a hotel for half a month. The cost was draining me. Helpless, I had to ask my parents for more money. But seeing my parents in the video call, squatting by a construction site eating plain buns, I couldn’t open my mouth. After having me, my parents decided not to have more children, fearing I’d be treated unfairly. Though not rich, they gave me the best of everything. Even with limited education, unable to help with certain things… They always cared for and encouraged me. “Julian, are you used to living at school? Getting along with roommates?” “We know you don’t like to talk, but try to have good relationships with classmates.” “Making friends will make you happier.” “Julian, are you eating well? School just started, but you look thinner.” Hearing Mom’s concern and thinking of my recent ordeal, tears threatened to spill. I hung up hastily. Although I didn’t ask, Mom transferred money, telling me to buy good food. I knew I had to move into a dorm ASAP. I gave up on my department’s dorms and begged the RA to find a bed in another department. Finally, the RA’s relentless efforts paid off. “This is a senior dorm from another department.” “They’re all out on internships, so the room is empty. There’s one vacant bed.” “Both department RAs talked to them, and they agreed to let you move in.” Hearing this, I wept with joy. Finally, someone accepted me. No more expensive hotels. I happily organized my luggage and cleaned the room inside out. Thinking if the roommates came back, I’d leave a good impression. But that day came sooner than expected. Before I could enjoy two days of peaceful campus life, I learned a senior was returning from his internship. Knowing he was coming back, I anxiously lost sleep. The next day, I was restless. Afraid he’d kick me out upon seeing me. But thankfully, my fears were unfounded. The senior was friendly, even sharing snacks he brought back. Seeing the clean room, he praised me non-stop. Saying he met a god-sent junior. I was overjoyed, feeling warmth from a classmate for the first time. We got along well, and I thought everything was on track. Until that day, after class, carrying takeout and watermelon, ready to game with the senior… I reached the door and found a crowd. My senior roommate, two RAs, and two guys I didn’t know. Probably the other two seniors living here. “No, he must move out.” 4 “We’re seniors, why shove a freshman in with us?” “We can buy that empty bed, or put someone else there.” “Anyway, Julian Jiang is a no-go.” Looking at the senior who smiled at me this morning, now wanting to throw my luggage out. I was stunned. The watermelon slipped from my hand. It smashed, red juice spreading like the blood from my heart. “Bro Lin, didn’t we get along fine?” “Why kick me out again?” “Why? Why does no one want to room with me?” I broke down completely, grabbing the senior I lived with for days, demanding an answer. Almost kneeling to beg him. But no matter what I said, he coldly demanded I pack and leave immediately. Saying if I didn’t move, he’d keep the whole building awake. Even the RA threatening their graduation didn’t shake them. Not wanting to disturb others, I silently packed and left. The RA told me he really couldn’t find a dorm that would take me. He applied for a refund of my accommodation fees so I could rent off-campus. I gave up completely. Helpless, I found a part-time job at a bubble tea shop to pay rent. Luckily, I quickly found a suitable place. With the refunded fees, I managed. I didn’t need to ask my parents for money. One day at the bubble tea shop, I unexpectedly saw Zack buying a drink. Since I begged him to be roommates and failed, we hadn’t spoken. Surprisingly, seeing me working here, he initiated conversation. “Julian, I still need to thank you.” “Without you, I might have fainted on campus the first day.” “Anyone passing by would have helped. No need to thank me.” I handed over the tea coldly. Recent events exhausted me; I didn’t want to deal with school people. “Julian, I…” But for some reason, Zack looked very guilty, unlike his arrogant refusal before. Seeing I ignored him, he lingered at the door for a long time, seemingly wanting to say something but hesitating. Finally, urged by other staff, he left. “What happened? Did he owe you money? Why look at you like that?” A coworker asked curiously after Zack left. I just shook my head. Actually, I found it strange too. Since I moved out and gave up on dorm life… Many classmates seemed friendlier, no longer avoiding me like the plague. Even for group projects, people started willing to team up with me. Especially Zack. He seemed to want to fix our relationship but always stopped short of speaking. I didn’t know why, but since I couldn’t figure it out, I stopped thinking about it. Living alone for four years is fine. After graduation, this mess will be behind me. But while I moved on, someone else didn’t.

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I was walking my dog in the neighborhood when a handsome guy in a Maybach pulled up and asked if my dog was for sale. “Not sold separately,” I said. He hesitated for a moment, then drove off. My dog and I watched his taillights with longing. I was furious, yelling at the empty street: “Sold separately! Sold separately! Damn it! You scumbag, you weren’t even serious about buying!” Unexpectedly, his car stopped, and the door opened… My dog broke free from my grip and jumped right in. The handsome guy looked at my dumbfounded face and asked, “Aren’t you jumping in too?” 1 I was walking my Samoyed, Snowball, in the neighborhood. He was running like crazy! I held the leash, panting behind him, almost dying from exhaustion. Then we ran out to the main road outside the complex. He suddenly stopped, staring at the endless stream of cars, drooling. We both stared. Both dreaming of striking it rich. Snowball has a quirk: he’s a gold digger. He loves luxury cars. Time and time again, he tries to climb into the passenger seat of a fancy car, leave me behind, and live the good life. But I keep a tight leash on him. I’ve never let him succeed. 2 Now, he looked at those luxury cars with longing, his face full of grievance. I live in a high-end neighborhood. There’s a large villa area nearby, so there are lots of luxury cars. I told Snowball, “Snowball, stop looking. I won’t let you live the good life alone.” He rolled his eyes at me. I chuckled. It’s like he understands me. I pulled him. “Let’s go, to the park. We still have to run a lap today.” He wouldn’t budge. Suddenly, a Maybach S680 Haute Voiture stopped right in front of us. 3 Snowball and I were both stunned by the magnificent car body. Then we were stunned again by the exceptionally handsome and seductive face revealed as the window rolled down! Damn, men can drive Maybachs just on their looks now? What excuse do Snowball and I have not to work hard! People better looking than you are working harder than you. I decided right then: I’m taking Snowball for plastic surgery when we get home. The handsome guy slowly blew a smoke ring, looked at me, then at Snowball. Snowball and I looked at him with excitement. I even wondered how to get his number, maybe he could introduce me to a single, rich, handsome guy. In our standoff, the handsome guy spoke first: “Beautiful, is your dog for sale?” 4 Snowball excitedly chased his tail, delirious with joy. He whined coquettishly at the handsome guy, then barked loudly at me, trying to break free from the leash. I was furious. Raised this dog for nothing. But I put on my gentlest smile: “Not sold separately.” I pointed at the dog, then at myself: “Must be bundled.” Handsome guy: “Bundling is unfair competition. It violates antitrust laws.” He looked ready to step on the gas and leave. I had a flash of wit, barked once, and asked: “Handsome, which one do you want to buy?” Snowball was completely enraged, barking madly at me, cursing up a storm in dog language. I pretended not to hear. The handsome guy shook his head, rolled up the window, and magnificently… drove away! 5 Snowball and I were dumbfounded. He stopped barking. I stopped being sassy. We watched the Maybach’s taillights, feeling like its exhaust fumes smelled of money. This was the closest we’d ever been to wealth. Snapping out of it, I immediately cursed at the distant car: “Sold separately! Sold separately! Damn it! Scumbag, you weren’t even serious about buying!” “Damn it all, you think just because you’re good-looking, this lady cares about your money? Pfft! I’m not that kind of person!” “If God gave me another chance, I would firmly say—” The car slowly stopped again. Just then, a bus stopped in front of me. The driver yelled: “Miss, dogs aren’t allowed on the bus.” I looked and saw the Maybach had stopped in the bus lane… I stuck out my tongue, apologized, and quickly chased after Snowball. 6 The handsome guy opened the passenger door, and Snowball jumped right in. I wanted to jump in too, but the passenger seat was occupied by an 80-pound dog. No room for me. The handsome guy opened the driver’s door and got out. Wow, not just a pretty face, but tall too. Gold digging requirements are really high these days. Wait, what am I saying? Gold digging is wrong! The handsome guy smiled at me. That smile was soul-snatching. I said firmly: “Bro, sold separately, sold separately. Where do you live? I can go with you, stay with him for a while to help him adjust. Let’s exchange numbers? I’ll send you his habits and preferences.” Handsome guy: “Student Sarah Shen, don’t you recognize me?” My eyes widened like saucers. I didn’t remember such a handsome classmate. I wanted to slap myself. Stupid brain, think! Who is he? I put on a sudden realization face and exclaimed: “Ah! It’s you! OMG, I didn’t expect it to be you! What a coincidence to meet here! My god!” He was also pleasantly surprised: “I really didn’t expect to meet you right after returning to the country!” 7 I asked: “OMG, you went abroad? You’re amazing!” He smiled: “Can’t compare to you. You scored so well, got into a good university without going abroad.” So he was a high school classmate, grades worse than mine. No wonder I didn’t recognize him. Who is this guy? I racked my brain, then asked: “So you’re back to work now?” He thought for a moment and said: “Sort of.” I invited warmly: “Then come back quickly. Policies are good now, you can work on weekends too. $150 a week. We caught a good time.” He laughed: “You’re still so cute.” ??? Who is he? Even after dragging the unsold Snowball home, I couldn’t remember. Did he get plastic surgery? I need to ask which clinic he went to. It’s too successful; I have zero impression of his old face. 8 Luckily, we added each other on WeChat. But his account showed he had tried to add me years ago. Back then, I had just gained my freedom (from high school) and was very guarded. I rejected all strangers. He had applied several times. Mom, I was such an arrogant little nun back then. I searched his WeChat ID, and sure enough, he was in the high school alumni group. But not in the class group, so just same year, different class. I quickly screenshotted his profile and sent it to my bestie, asking who he was. Bestie replied instantly: “Eh, why are you curious about him?” Me: “??? Is he famous? Do I know him?” I told her about meeting him today. Bestie laughed for a while and said: “He was a legend in our school too. But you only cared about studying back then. Even if I told you, you wouldn’t have paid attention.” So I didn’t know him, right? Turns out he was Luke Lu from Section A.

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I’d just gotten off work and was heading for the subway when I ran into an old university classmate. She asked me when I was finally going to forgive Luke Pei. Luke and I were childhood sweethearts. We were supposed to get married five years ago. But at our engagement party, the night before we were to register our marriage, he called it all off. In front of everyone. He said he was tired of being a substitute for my one true love, and wished the two of us a long and happy life together. Then he grabbed his graduate school mentor and walked out. I was baffled, desperate to explain that I didn’t have a “one true love,” but the humiliation shattered me. In the end, I was the one who left Kingsbridge. “Luke still has feelings for you,” she said, as if letting me in on a great secret. “He says if you hadn’t used him as a stand-in for that other guy, you two would have been married years ago.” “All you have to do is admit you were wrong, and he’s willing to give you another chance.” Another chance? I laughed. My son is three years old. What past is there to continue? 1 Renee’s jaw dropped, her mouth forming a perfect ‘O’. She stared at me as if I’d just announced I was from Mars. “M-married?” she stammered. “Your kid’s already in preschool?” I just nodded, not wanting to waste my breath. I turned to leave, but she grabbed my arm, her grip surprisingly strong. “No way! Amy, you’re lying, aren’t you?” Her voice was so loud that people waiting for the train started to stare. “Everyone in Kingsbridge knew how much you loved Luke! You gave up a guaranteed spot at a top-tier university for him. You would never marry someone else!” I frowned. Hearing her dredge up those old stories felt like a bad joke. It was true, I had loved Luke. Loved him enough to give up everything. But that was a lifetime ago. “Why would I lie to you?” I asked, my voice flat. My indifference seemed to fuel her fire. “Well, who’s your husband, then? What does he do? Is he as rich as Luke? Is his family as powerful?” The questions came out like machine-gun fire, each one dripping with condescension, as if she was certain I’d married some pathetic loser I was ashamed of. I ignored her, trying to wrench my arm free, but she held on tighter. “Amy, are you just doing this to spite him?” she pressed. “I know what happened back then was unfair to you. But it’s been five years. You should be over it by now.” “Do you have any idea what Luke’s life has been like?” she continued, a note of pride in her voice. “He took over the Pei Corporation and tripled its market value. He’s the most brilliant rising star in the business world! And he’s been completely devoted to you. Besides Cecilia, his work partner, he hasn’t been seen with another woman. Everyone says he’s a tragic hero, wasting five years of his life on a woman who didn’t appreciate him.” The man she described sounded like a saint, a powerful, tragic figure from a romance novel. All I felt was disgust. It reminded me of a phone call I’d received just before I left Kingsbridge. It was from Luke’s mother. Her voice, as always, was gentle and polite, but held an unmistakable, dismissive chill. “Amy, dear, I know you’ve been wronged,” she’d begun with a soft sigh. “Luke has been spoiled his whole life. He’s just too impulsive.” She soothed me first, then pivoted. “But then again, it’s normal for young couples to have their little disagreements. Luke’s career is just taking off, and he’s under a lot of pressure. What he needs is a partner who can support and guide him, someone who can be an asset.” I had held the phone, silent. I understood perfectly. “That girl Cecilia,” she’d continued, “I’ve met her a few times. So poised and mature. She’s brilliant academically, has so much in common with Luke, and she’d be a great help to his career.” Her voice was light, but every word landed like a stone in my heart. “You, on the other hand… your lively spirit is charming, but for a man in Luke’s position, his future wife needs to be proper. She needs to know her place.” Proper. So all my passion, my energy, was just “improper” in her eyes. I grew up with their family. She had watched me grow, treated me like a daughter. But when it mattered most, twenty years of affection meant less than a business connection. To families like theirs, a strategic match would always be more important than a childhood sweetheart. I hadn’t said a word. I just hung up and blocked every single one of them. “Amy, are you even listening?” Renee’s voice snapped me back to the present. “Luke has been so good to you. Are you really happy married to some nobody? Don’t you regret it?” Regret? I looked at her like she was an idiot. “I’m very happy,” I said, enunciating each word. “And I don’t need anyone’s concern.” With that, I finally yanked my arm free and walked away, leaving her standing there with her mouth still hanging open. 2 When I left Kingsbridge, I cut ties with my old life completely. New city, new number, new address. They all assumed I was frozen in time, waiting for my prince to come back and rescue me. They had no idea. I had already turned the page. And Luke Pei was just a typo I had long since erased. The train arrived. I got off and walked toward the preschool near my home. Through the fence, I saw my son laughing as he went down the slide with his friends. A tall figure walked over and scooped him up. It was my husband, David. He saw me and smiled, walking toward me with our son in his arms. “Home early today?” He took my bag and laced his fingers through mine. “Missed you guys,” I said, smiling as I pinched our son’s chubby cheek. He snuggled against me, murmuring “Mommy!” in his sweet, milky voice. That single moment of warmth was enough to ward off all the cold in the world. Regret? What was there to regret? Luke and I had grown up next door to each other. He was two years older and had always protected me. If anyone so much as looked at me wrong, he’d be the first to throw a punch. Everyone said I was the apple of his eye. I thought we’d go from school uniforms to a wedding dress. Until Cecilia showed up. She was his graduate school mentor, a woman of gentle, intellectual grace. She started appearing by his side constantly, always under the guise of academic discussion. The library, research projects, academic forums. At first, I didn’t think much of it. Luke was always surrounded by brilliant women, but he only ever had eyes for me. I trusted him. The first seed of doubt was planted at a party. We were playing Truth or Dare, and Cecilia lost. Her dare was to reveal a secret about someone in the room. Her eyes scanned the group before landing on me with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Amy, but I have to tell your secret,” she said, her tone deceptively innocent. “The other day, I accidentally saw Amy’s phone wallpaper. It’s a photo of her with another guy! He’s really handsome. I wonder who he is?” Every head in the room swiveled toward me. A few glanced nervously at Luke. The smile on his face vanished. “That’s my cousin,” I explained quickly. “He passed away a couple of years ago. That’s the only picture I have of us.” “Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry,” Cecilia stammered, looking mortified. “I had no idea. I really didn’t mean anything by it.” Everyone rushed to smooth things over, but the damage was done. Later that night, Luke brought it up again. “Your cousin? How come I’ve never heard you mention him?” “He was always sick, living abroad for treatment. Of course you never met him.” I handed him my phone. In the photo, a pale young man was propped up in a hospital bed, his smile gentle. I stood beside him, grinning like an idiot. “See? We even look a little alike.” Luke studied the photo for a long time before handing it back. “Yeah, you do.” He pretended to believe me, but I could feel that a seed of doubt had been planted. After that, Cecilia was always “accidentally” bringing me up in front of Luke. “Luke, Amy has such a great personality, so many friends. I wish my social circle was that big.” “Luke, I saw Amy at the movies with a guy yesterday. She’s so popular.” “Luke, isn’t Amy graduating soon? She loves to have fun so much. I wonder if she can handle a nine-to-five job.” She never said a bad word about me. Every sentence was a compliment, but each one carried a hidden barb, implying I was flighty, promiscuous, and not serious enough. Luke became suspicious and possessive. We had our first real fight over it. He insisted I accompany him to a formal academic dinner. I ran into a senior colleague from my internship and chatted with him for a few minutes about work. Luke’s face went cold. He turned and walked out, leaving me there alone. I chased him down in the parking garage. “Luke, what the hell is your problem?” “My problem?” he sneered. “Did you ever stop to think how I felt, watching you laugh it up with another man right in front of me?” “He’s my colleague! We were talking about work!” “Does talking about work require you to smile like that?” he roared. Looking at his face, twisted by jealousy, he seemed like a stranger. I felt exhausted. “You’re being completely irrational.” “Irrational?” He grabbed my wrist. “Are you tired of me being so controlling? Am I not as gentle and understanding as your dead cousin?” He brought up my cousin again. I was shaking with anger. “You’re a bastard, Luke!” I ripped my hand away and ran off, crying. We didn’t speak for a long time after that. I thought our relationship was cracking. I didn’t realize it was about to shatter. 3 We were in a cold war for a week. He didn’t call. I didn’t either. Usually, he’d be the first to apologize after a few days. Not this time. I was fuming, but with the engagement party just days away, I figured he’d have to come around eventually. The night before the party, I got a text from Cecilia. It was a photo. Luke was drunk, passed out on her shoulder. Her head was tilted slightly toward his, a victorious smirk on her face. The caption read: He’s going through a lot. You should try to be more understanding. My heart twisted, but I told myself he was just drunk, and she was just taking care of him. On the day of the party, I dressed up, planning to surprise him and make up. I found him in the dressing room. He was wearing a suit that matched my dress, looking impossibly handsome. But when he saw me, his eyes darted away. “Luke,” I said, stepping forward to take his hand. “Let’s not fight anymore, okay?” He yanked his hand away as if he’d been shocked. The force of it sent me staggering. I stared at him in disbelief. The guests were arriving. The MC was on stage. We took our places. The spotlight hit us. I forced a smile, trying to keep up appearances. Luke didn’t even bother. He stared straight ahead, his face a mask of ice. When the MC asked us to exchange rings, the final blow came. He pulled his hand away from mine again. In front of our families and all our friends, his eyes were glacial. “Is it fun?” he asked, his voice low and venomous. “Using me as a stand-in?” The room erupted in whispers. My mind went blank. “Luke, what are you talking about?” “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He sneered and pulled a letter from his pocket. It was on scented, pink stationery. “What is that?” I asked, my voice trembling. “It’s a love letter you wrote to your ‘one true love’!” he snarled. “Cecilia found it in my study!” He unfolded it and began to read it aloud. The sappy, romantic words, spoken in his cold, angry voice, were like a thousand tiny cuts. “I didn’t!” I cried, panicking. “I never wrote that!” “No?” he laughed cruelly. “The handwriting might be forged, but the perfume on this paper is the exact same one you always wear! How long are you going to keep up this act, Amy?” I was reeling from the sudden, public humiliation. I saw the shock on my parents’ faces, the fury on his, the mixture of pity and contempt from the guests. I was a joke. When he finished, he crumpled the letter and threw it in my face. Then he took out the engagement ring, the one meant for my finger, and threw it to the ground. “I wish you and your one true love a long and happy life together.” He spat out the words, then turned to Cecilia, who was pretending to comfort him, a triumphant gleam in her eyes. He took her arm, and together, they walked out, leaving me alone in the spotlight. In that moment, my world caved in. The disastrous engagement party made me the laughingstock of Kingsbridge. I was the two-timing slut who had tried to land a rich heir while keeping a lover on the side. The rumors were vicious and relentless. The Pei family said nothing, letting the gossip fester. I became the gold-digger who got what she deserved. I was done. Done with Luke, done with his family. I didn’t offer a single word of explanation. I knew he wouldn’t believe me anyway. I deleted my contacts, deactivated my social media, and bought a one-way ticket out of the city I had called home for twenty years. There was nothing left for me there. Renee must have told Luke about my new life. Suddenly, my phone was blowing up with calls and texts from unknown numbers. I ignored them all, blocking them as they came in. A few days later, he found me. As I was leaving work, he was there, blocking my path. He looked different. The boyish charm was gone, replaced by a sharp, mature intensity, but his eyes were bloodshot and filled with a dark, restless energy. He stared at me, his voice raw. “Why didn’t you answer my calls?” 4 His voice was hoarse, like he hadn’t slept in days. I said nothing and tried to walk around him. He grabbed my arm, his grip so tight I thought the bone would snap. “Amy, I’m talking to you!” he roared. Pain shot up my arm. “We have nothing to do with each other anymore,” I said through gritted teeth. “Let go of me.” My coldness only enraged him further. “Nothing to do with each other? Is that what you call it?” he spat. “You vanish for five years without a word, marry someone else, have a kid… what am I to you?” “You’d rather marry some nobody who came out of nowhere than come back and give me a single explanation?” His eyes were wild, like a cornered animal’s. “Amy, did you ever even love me?” He asked me if I ever loved him. After he had humiliated me with a forged letter in front of everyone I knew. After he had let the world tear me apart while he did nothing. After he had spent the last five years happily playing house with Cecilia. He had the audacity to ask me if I loved him. I looked at his anguished face and felt nothing but a cold, hollow irony. The girl who had stood on that stage, alone and ridiculed, was the one who should have been asking that question. Did you ever love me, Luke? If you did, how could you believe a stranger over twenty years of us? “Mr. Pei, please let me go.” The formal, distant title made him flinch. “Mr. Pei?” he whispered, then his voice rose in fury. “What did you just call me? Say it again, Amy!” His grip tightened. “You owe me an explanation!” “There’s nothing to explain.” I tried to pull away, but he was too strong. As we struggled, a small voice called out. “Mommy!” I turned to see my son running out of the office building, a little butterfly flapping toward me. He was holding a crayon drawing of three stick figures holding hands. “Look, Mommy! It’s you, Daddy, and me!” I finally broke free from Luke’s grasp and knelt to hug my son. “Leo, what are you doing out here?” “Daddy said you were done with work, so I came to get you.” I looked up and saw David standing a few feet away, a warm smile on his face. But Luke, the moment he saw Leo, froze as if struck by lightning. The color drained from his face. He stared at the child in my arms, his lips moving but no sound coming out. David walked over, smoothly lifted Leo from my arms, and gently guided me behind him, shielding me. He looked at Luke, his gaze calm but firm. “Sir, can I help you with something?” Luke seemed to snap out of his trance. His eyes moved from my son, to David, and finally back to me. They were a maelstrom of shock, pain, and utter disbelief. “A child…” he whispered, his voice cracking. “You even have a child…” His voice was so quiet, yet it was filled with a universe of despair. I looked at his devastated expression and felt no satisfaction. Just a vast, empty peace. 5 Yes, I have a child. When I was at my lowest, abandoned by him and condemned by the world, I met David. He was the one who pulled me from the mire. He was the one who gave me a home. He was the one who taught me that love isn’t about possession and suspicion, but trust and protection. What you see now, Luke, is the happiness I fought for with everything I had. And you have no place in it. He took a sudden step forward, as if to grab me. “Amy, tell me this isn’t real!” Before he could touch me, David’s arm shot out, blocking him. David was taller, broader. He just stood there, an immovable wall between us. “Mr. Pei, is it?” David’s tone was polite, but the warning was clear. “Please do not disturb my wife and my son.” My wife. My son. Every word was a dagger to Luke’s heart. His face went another shade paler. He looked at me, his eyes pleading. “Amy, just give me five minutes. Please. Let’s just talk.” If this had been five years ago, I might have caved. Now, it was just pathetic. “There’s no need, Mr. Pei. We have nothing to talk about.” I took David’s arm and leaned against him. “Honey, let’s go home. Leo must be hungry.” David smiled gently at me and nodded. “Okay.” He held our son, and I held his arm. The three of us turned and walked away, not giving Luke another glance. I could feel his gaze on my back, hot and painful, like it was trying to burn a hole through me. I started talking to David, my voice loud enough for Luke to hear. “Honey, can we have sweet and sour ribs for dinner? It’s Leo’s favorite.” “Of course. I bought some fresh ribs this afternoon. I’ll make them as soon as we get home.” “Daddy’s the best!” Leo cheered from David’s arms. The sound of our happy, normal family conversation must have been like knives twisting in his gut. I heard a soft thud behind me. I didn’t turn back.

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After I got into the same college as my online boyfriend, he sent me a photo of myself and broke up with me. “I fell in love with her. I’ll make it up to you.” I laughed. “So she’s the main chick and I’m the side piece? I can’t live without you.” He got annoyed. “Silly girl, I’m a cheater and I have ED. You deserve better.” Just as I was about to tell him the girl in the photo was actually me… He sent a picture of a god-tier handsome guy. “This is my roommate, the campus crush. Rich family, never dated, 8.5 inches. I’ll set you up with him, okay?” I swallowed hard. “Fine. But don’t come begging for me back.” He swore, “Don’t worry. If I beg for you back, I’m a dog.” But later, the usually cool and rebellious bad boy was wearing a collar, kneeling at my feet like a puppy, crying and begging: “Please, take me back. Or let him be the main guy and I’ll be the side piece. I don’t have ED, I’m a machine.” “Please?” 1 [Babe, let’s break up.] Even though this online relationship was whatever to me, receiving Chase’s breakup text out of the blue was still a shock. I called him to ask why. Chase was brutally honest. “I saw a freshman today. She fits my type perfectly, like she was made for me.” “I feel like if I can’t be with her in this life, living is meaningless.” “So, Babe, let me go. I’ll make it up to you.” I laughed. “You used to say if you couldn’t be with me, living was meaningless.” Chase coughed guiltily. “Men say all kinds of crap when chasing a girl. But she’s different. I’m serious about her.” Serious after one look? I don’t buy it. Also, Chase and I dated online for a year. He’s a genius jock, handsome with sharp features, eyes that hook you in. My favorite “bad boy” type. I wanted to taste him before breaking up. I tried to salvage it. “Lots of people say I’m super pretty too. Why don’t you see me first?” I opened my photo gallery. “No need. I’ve seen your pics. I know you’re beautiful, but you’re the ‘cool older sister’ type. I prefer her, the ‘cute lolita’ type.” My photos are “cool older sister” vibes? “Chase, are you mistaken? I’m nowhere near that style.” Chase sent a photo. “I lied before when I said I didn’t care about looks and didn’t want to video chat. I actually saw your old profile pic ages ago.” I looked at the photo of a girl in a leather jacket on a motorcycle, looking fierce. Just as I was about to say that’s my sister, Lindsay… Chase sent another photo. Of me. “Look at my dream girl.” “Actually, you two look a bit alike, but the vibes are totally different.” “You’re cool and sassy. If your voice wasn’t my type, I wouldn’t have chased you.” “But she’s different. Big eyes, small face, voice sweet like honey. My soul left my body.” “By the way, showing you this is to prove I’m serious. Don’t do anything crazy with her photo.” I didn’t expect Chase to like me this much. I burst out laughing. Decided to mess with him. “Then let her be the main chick and I’ll be the side piece. I can’t live without you.” Chase sighed heavily. “Silly girl, I’m a cheater and I have ED. You deserve better.” Liar. He’s the captain of the basketball team, stamina for days, legs for miles. When we did stuff over the phone, he lasted at least thirty minutes. Just as I was about to say the second photo was me… He suddenly sent a picture of a guy who looked like a celestial being. “This is my roommate, Liam. Campus crush. Rich family, never dated, 8.5 inches. I’ll set you up with him, okay?” In the photo, Liam had fair skin, red lips, and a high nose bridge. Wearing a crisp white shirt. His fingers holding a pen were long and elegant, nails neatly trimmed. Sitting at a desk bathed in sunlight, he looked like a piece of flawless jade. My heart skipped a beat. And that skipped beat made me realize something. I don’t have a “type.” I’m just horny. Plus, I haven’t met anyone hotter. Might as well date Liam for now. But… “Will he actually date me?” “He will. We’re best bros. If he dares to say no, I’ll put a knife to his throat.” I laughed. “Okay then. But don’t come begging for me back.” Chase swore, “Don’t worry. If I beg for you back, I’m a dog.” Heh. Does he think I’d want him back? My parents were strict about dating in high school, so I had to sneak around online. Now that I’m at UVA, my family supports me dating. I can’t wait to date all the hot guys. No way I’m going back to an ex. “Which college are you at again? I sent your WeChat to Liam. I told him to ask you out tomorrow.” Before, to surprise Chase, I only said I was coming to Charlottesville for college, didn’t specify UVA. But no point hiding it now. Just as I was about to speak… “Forget it, talk amongst yourselves. I gotta go prep my confession for my dream girl tomorrow. Bye.” Chase hung up. Immediately, a friend request from Liam popped up. 2 But I played hard to get and didn’t click [Accept]. Today was move-in day. Someone snapped a pic of me and posted it on the campus confession wall. I went viral. The next day during freshman orientation, lots of people came to see me. Including Chase. He stood in front of me holding a massive bouquet of red roses and three hard-to-find Labubu dolls. He went straight for it: “Hi, Maya Lin. I’m Chase from CS, junior year. It was love at first sight. Will you be my girlfriend?” I looked up at Chase carefully. Honestly, he was even hotter than his photos. Under his black tee, the outline of his abs was visible. Muscles on his arms bulged, veins popping. Sexual tension off the charts. The crowd started chanting: “Say yes! Say yes! This is Chase, the CS god, the face of our school! Usually girls chase him!” “Never thought I’d see Chase simp in my lifetime. He’s usually so cold and abstinent, I thought he was wasting his genes.” Chase was a flirt online. Nothing abstinent about him. I laughed at the crowd’s stupidity. Chase mistook it for approval. He smiled, confident of victory. “Sorry, I don’t want to date you.” Chase’s smile froze. The crowd went silent. Awkward. “Why?” Because you dumped me last night and introduced me to a high-quality prospect. But I won’t say it. I’ll wait for him to figure it out. We met in a game. He liked my voice, I liked his face. To spend time with him, I pretended to be dumb so I could pester him for tutoring. He was patient, taught me math, and Venmo’d me money often. Total boyfriend material. Who knew he’d cheat right before we met? Since I wasn’t that invested, I won’t call him a scumbag. “I have someone I’m interested in.” “So you’re not dating yet? Give me a chance to pursue you? I’ll treat you better than that guy.” “No, not interested.” Chase looked embarrassed. Someone in the crowd gasped in disbelief. “But I only want you. I won’t give up. Take these gifts.” Those Labubus were cute. But I didn’t want to be entangled with Chase. I shook my head. Chase tried to force them on me. “If you don’t take them, I’m throwing them in the trash.” “Throw them then.” Don’t know if he did. I linked arms with my roommate, Tina, and walked away without looking back. Tina: “You’re savage. Rejecting Chase in public.” “It’s fine. Use him to scare off the other guys, so not every Tom, Dick, and Harry comes at me.” “True. The confession wall says half the guys on campus want to confess to you.” Speaking of which, I remembered Liam. I accepted his request and agreed to dinner. 3 At the restaurant. Liam sat by the window. When I sat opposite him, his eyes lit up, then he froze. I smiled at him. “I’m the girlfriend Chase set you up with, Babe.” “Curious why I don’t look like the photo?” Liam hummed a “Yes,” his voice deep and pleasant. Seeing me stare at him, his ears turned bright red. He drank water to hide his shyness and nerves. I was shocked. And conflicted. Didn’t expect such an innocent boy in this day and age. I kinda didn’t want to date him anymore. Since I’m here for a good time, not a long time. But he’s hot. And his lips look so red and soft, very kissable. Sigh. I’ll let him choose. “So, do you want to date me, or the girl in the photo?” “If it’s the girl in the photo, I can introduce you.” “You.” Liam didn’t hesitate. Can’t blame me then. He might not be serious about me either. Or like Chase, serious for a bit then change his mind. So whatever, carpe diem. “Chase said you’re 8.5 inches. Is that true?” “I’m not talking about shoe size.” I was blunt. Liam stiffened. Turned beet red. Couldn’t speak for a long time. I frowned. “No? If not, I’m out.” Liam looked around, then whispered, “Yes.” “Can I see?” “N-now?” “No, after we eat.” Liam nodded, blushing harder. He handed me the menu. Seeing it was my first time here, he carefully recommended the specialties. Mid-meal, Chase called Liam. It was loud; I heard everything. Chase: “Met Babe?” Liam: “Yeah.” “Didn’t lie, did I? Pretty, right?” “Yeah.” “Treat her well. Spend all your free time with her so she doesn’t think about me. Maya is harder to chase than I thought. I need to focus on strategizing, can’t deal with Babe.” “Okay.” “Thanks man. Lucky to have you. Dinner on me tomorrow.” “No need. Eating now. Bye.” “Okay.” Liam put down the phone. I suddenly realized something. “Do you know my name?” Liam paused for a few seconds. “No.” “I’m…” “Sorry.” Liam interrupted me suddenly. “I need to use the restroom.” He walked fast. Like he really had to go. I kept eating. When Liam came back, I forgot to tell him my name. Leaving the restaurant, Liam suggested getting a hotel room. Me!! 4 Did I misjudge him? He’s this open? Liam seemed to read my mind and explained frantically: “Don’t misunderstand. Not for sex.” “You can inspect the goods first. I didn’t lie. I want you to feel secure being my girlfriend.” Oh. But I haven’t seen that before. Suddenly seeing it would be awkward. “Maybe later? Getting a room just for that is a waste of money.” “If it makes you feel secure, it’s not a waste. And I’m rich.” Liam insisted. I felt like he was just too innocent. And considerate. I agreed. Afterward. Liam, face flushed, looked at me, face flushed. “I’m very traditional.” “I showed you my most important thing. No matter what happens, you can’t break up with me.” My brain was just… how is it so… Will using it actually feel good…? I didn’t hear a word Liam said, just mumbled “Okay.” Liam was happy. Took me back to campus. Near the dorms, seeing couples making out, I stopped and asked Liam, “Can I kiss you?” “Yes.” Liam, ears red, cupped my face and kissed me gently. Then pulled away fast. He seemed nervous. Fingers trembling slightly. So cute. And his lips were sweet and soft. A light touch wasn’t enough to satisfy my craving. “Can we kiss longer? Harder?” “I’ll try. But it’s my first time. Tell me if it hurts.” “Mhm.” Liam kissed me again. Better this time. But no tongue. Just as I tried to pry his teeth open… Chase’s shocked voice came from behind. “Liam! Babe?” We both froze. Liam pulled me into his arms, burying my face in his chest. Hand caressing my face, seemingly hiding me on purpose. But I didn’t have time to overthink. My mind was hijacked by his heart pounding like a drum. Just a kiss and his heart is going crazy. If we… I was lost in dirty thoughts. Chase walked over, sounding happy: “You brought Babe to campus to hang out?” Uhh. Guess Chase didn’t think a “bad student” like me could get into this school. Liam’s voice was cold: “Why are you here?” “Dropping stuff off for Maya.” “Congrats, you guys got together fast.” Liam gave a very faint “Mhm.” Chase looked at my back and laughed: “Babe, burying your face in Liam’s chest? Shy because I saw you kissing? Not gonna say hi?” I wasn’t shy. And I should say hi. So I mischievously turned around and smiled at Chase.

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It was Sunday, and I was playing hide-and-seek with my twin daughters. My younger daughter, Anna, was hiding right behind the door, giggling. But my older daughter, Lily? I couldn’t find her anywhere. Just then, my wife came home. She saw me looking under the sofa and asked what I was doing. “I’m looking for Lily,” I said. My wife’s face went blank. She looked at me with pure confusion. “Honey, we only have one daughter.” 1 I stared at my wife, Sarah, completely lost. Sarah likes to prank me and the kids, sure. But joking about our children’s existence? That’s crossing a line. I was anxious to find Lily, so I snapped back impatiently. “Stop playing around, Sarah. I really can’t find Lily!” I walked toward the bedroom, calling out, “Lily! Come out! Daddy gives up!” Sarah dropped the grocery bags on the floor and followed me into the bedroom. I thought she was finally going to help me look. Instead, she leaned against the doorframe, looking at me like I had grown a second head. “Will, are you out of your mind? Who is Lily?” “We don’t have a daughter named Lily!” I slammed the closet door shut and yelled, “Enough! Stop the joke!” My outburst scared Anna, who was standing in the hallway. She started to cry. I immediately crouched down to comfort her. “I’m sorry, Anna. Daddy shouldn’t have yelled. Did you see where your sister hid?” Anna was sobbing so hard she couldn’t breathe. It broke my heart. I picked her up and rocked her. Anna is non-verbal; she can only make simple sounds. She pointed frantically toward the bathroom. I put her down and rushed into the bathroom. I spun around. Nothing. Lily wasn’t there. Anna ran in after me. She grabbed my hand and pointed at the mirror, making urgent noises. I froze for a second, then realized what she meant. She was saying I had mistaken her reflection for Lily. They are identical twins, sure, but I’m their father. I don’t make that mistake. Anna shook her head violently, gesturing wildly. I was getting frustrated. “Anna, stop it. Daddy is looking for your sister.” Sarah rushed in, snatched Anna up into her arms, and looked at me with genuine fear. “Will, have you lost it? There is no Lily!” Impossible! I dragged Sarah into the living room and pointed at the large family portrait on the wall. “Tell me who the four people in this picture are!” She pushed me away. “Look closely! Count them!” I turned around, ready to scream, but the words died in my throat. In the photo, it was just me, Sarah, and Anna sitting between us. There was no Lily. This was insane. I ran to the kids’ room to find Lily’s clothes, her backpack, anything. The bunk bed was still there. But the top bunk—Lily’s bunk—was piled high with Anna’s toys and boxes. It looked like nobody had slept there in years. 2 I collapsed onto the bottom bunk. Sarah didn’t cook dinner. She took Anna and stormed out of the house, slamming the front door to show just how pissed she was. I sat there in the silence, actually starting to question my sanity. Was I having a psychotic break? Lily was just here. She was right in front of me. How could Sarah look me in the eye and say she didn’t exist? I have a habit of biting my nails when I’m nervous. I raised my left hand and stopped. There was a Hello Kitty Band-Aid on my index finger. Lily put that there. This afternoon, I was cutting fruit and nicked my finger. Lily had blinked her big eyes at me, held my hand with both of hers, and said seriously: “Daddy, pain fly away.” My heart had melted. That happened. Lily exists! I grabbed my phone and called my parents. Their reaction was identical to Sarah’s. They told me I’ve only ever had Anna. My mom sounded worried. “Will, honey… is this because you’re stressed about Anna being non-verbal? Maybe… maybe you and Sarah should try for a son.” What the hell were they talking about? I never cared that Anna couldn’t speak! I just wanted to find Lily! She was just tagging along behind me, calling me Daddy. How did she vanish from everyone’s memory but mine? Is the whole world gaslighting me? I felt a wave of crushing grievance. I mumbled a goodbye and hung up. I took a deep breath. Stop thinking. Just function. I unpacked the groceries Sarah had dropped and put them in the fridge. Just as I finished, the front door opened. Sarah and Anna were back. Sarah ignored me completely. Anna, however, walked straight up to me. “Daddy, you need to rest. Don’t be so tired.” Wait. Anna spoke? I reached out to hug her, but she bolted past me and ran to Sarah. My hands grabbed empty air. Sarah picked Anna up, looking at me with undisguised disgust. “Don’t talk to your father. His brain is broken.” She slammed the bedroom door. Apparently, I was sleeping on the couch or the guest room. I trudged to the master bedroom—which was empty now—lay on the bed, and closed my eyes. I hoped that when I woke up, the nightmare would be over. Sarah, Lily, and Anna would all be there. Exhaustion took over. I don’t know how long I slept, but a faint, childish voice whispered in my ear. “Daddy… Daddy.” It was Lily! My eyes snapped open. 3 It was pitch black. “Daddy, I’m down here!” The voice came from under the bed. I hung my head over the side. Lily was peeking out, just half her face visible. “Daddy, why didn’t you come find me? I’ve been hiding for so long.” I reached down to pull her out, but she scrambled out like a little monkey and ran out the door. I chased her. She stopped at the door of the kids’ room, eyes curved in a smile, looking at me. “Lily, stop running.” She didn’t stop. She turned and went into the room. Inside, Sarah was asleep on the bottom bunk. The top bunk was cleared of toys. It was made up with Lily’s sheets again. But where was Anna? Wasn’t Sarah sleeping with Anna? I crouched down and whispered to Lily, “Where’s your sister?” Lily pointed to the door. I looked back. Anna was standing in the doorway, smiling at me. Identical twins. Identical taste. They were both wearing the same bear-print nightgowns, standing one in front of me, one behind me. I felt dizzy. I grabbed Lily’s hand and Anna’s hand and dragged them to the bunk bed. I was going to wake Sarah up. I was going to make her look at our two daughters. 4 But the moment I flipped the light switch, my hands were empty. They vanished. “Lily!” “Anna!” I spun around to look for them, and then I heard Sarah scream. “AHHHH!!” “Will! Are you insane?!” Sarah was sitting up in the bottom bunk, clutching Anna tightly to her chest. Anna was safe. I smiled, relieved. But they were looking at me with pure terror. Anna burst into tears. I didn’t understand. Then I looked down at my hand. I was gripping a kitchen knife. The blade was pointed straight at my wife and child. I screamed and dropped the knife. It clattered loudly on the floor. What the hell? I hadn’t been to the kitchen. Where did the knife come from? I didn’t have time to process it. I raised my hands. “I didn’t… Sarah, listen to me…” I tried to explain everything I saw. The voice under the bed, the two girls. Sarah ignored me. She dressed Anna hurriedly, shaking. She asked Anna, “Honey, tell the truth. Did you get out of bed?” Anna was sobbing, shaking her head. “No. I was sleeping with Mommy. I woke up and Daddy was holding a knife and laughing at us.” That wasn’t true. I was losing it. “Sarah, please, just listen—” She shoved me away. “How many times do I have to say it?! We only have Anna!” “There is no Lily!” “Stop making up stories!” Seeing the hate in her eyes, I knew I couldn’t win. I compromised. “Okay. Okay. Maybe I am sick. I’ll go to the doctor tomorrow. Please.” Sarah didn’t care. She picked up Anna and stormed out of the house again, heading to her parents’.

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The moment my son was born, my best friend, Lydia, shoved my husband aside, her eyes gleaming with a manic light. She snatched our newborn from the nurse’s arms and declared, her voice ringing through the delivery room: “Your son is the great villain of this world! But don’t you worry. I will be the one to save him. In the end, I will marry him, and we’ll be together forever!” My husband and I were stunned, but we dismissed it as a bizarre, tasteless joke. She was just being dramatic. For years, Lydia doted on our son. She was a constant presence, always the first to arrive whenever danger was near. Despite her “protection,” our son was plagued by tragedy. He was diagnosed with autism, then severe depression, among a host of other issues. We poured every penny we had into his treatment. Then, on his tenth birthday, a runaway truck slammed into our car. As I lay dying on the pavement, I saw her looming over me. “A villain’s life is meant to be full of suffering,” she sneered, her voice dripping with contempt. “How else am I supposed to save him? How else will he learn to love me?” “You two just wouldn’t die,” she sighed, as if bored. “I gave him all those illnesses, and you still weren’t worn down to nothing. I had to handle it myself. What a pain.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back, months before my son was born. We immediately booked a flight out of the country, leaving our son in the care of his grandparents. Then we returned home with a baby girl. Let’s see her try to marry my son now. 1 A shrill alarm cut through the silence. I gasped, my eyes flying open, my chest heaving. Lydia’s name glowed on my phone screen. My hand trembled as I fumbled to answer it, her excited voice chirping from the speaker. “Clara! Your due date is any day now, right? When are you heading to the hospital? I want to be there with you.” I instinctively looked down at my swollen belly, my heart hammering against my ribs. I was back. My son hadn’t been born yet. There was still time to fix everything. I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. “That’s too much trouble, Lydia. You have work. My husband, Noah, will be with me. That’s all I need.” Her voice instantly sharpened. “Absolutely not! He’s my future husband! I have to be the first one to see him! No one is stealing that spot from me!” Her words were a venom-tipped needle, plunging deep into my soul. A chilling dread washed over me, cold as ice. In my last life, Lydia had become obsessed the moment I got pregnant. She called my belly her “little husband.” She bought piles of baby clothes, embroidering them with her initials and the words “Property of His Future Wife,” then forced them on me. When my son was born, she’d acted like a woman possessed, shoving everyone out of the way to be the first to hold him. Her eyes had burned with a feverish intensity as she’d made her grand pronouncement. “Your son is destined to be the villain of this story. He’ll suffer endlessly before becoming the nation’s wealthiest man. But because of all that pain, he’ll be corrupted and turn against the story’s true hero and heroine. In the end, they’ll have him sent to prison and executed.” “But don’t worry,” she’d added with a beatific smile. “With me here, I’ll save him. I will marry him, and we’ll be together forever!” At the time, we thought she’d just read one too many fantasy novels. Her behavior was extreme, but we’d been friends for so long. We wrote it off as a joke. For the next ten years, Lydia was a constant presence, more attentive to our son than we were. And just as she’d predicted, his life was one disaster after another. But every single time, Lydia was there, miraculously appearing just in time to prevent the worst from happening. Because of this, our son grew closer to her than to us. At a young age, he was already learning how to take care of her, to soothe her. But it wasn’t enough. He was diagnosed with one psychological disorder after another. We took him to countless specialists, bankrupted ourselves paying for treatments, and exhausted our spirits, but he never got better. In fact, he only got worse as he grew older. On his tenth birthday, Lydia recommended a new doctor. Clinging to a final shred of hope, we drove to the appointment. On the way, a truck lost control and crushed our car. In my dying moments, I finally understood. Every illness, every accident, every ounce of his suffering had been orchestrated by her. All for her so-called “redemption.” I took a deep breath, forcing down the hatred boiling in my gut. I kept my voice light. “Alright, then. It should be in the next few days. I’ll call you the second we head to the hospital.” “Perfect. It’s a date.” The moment she hung up, I threw off the covers and went to find my husband. This time, I would keep my son away from Lydia, no matter the cost. Noah was in his study, wrapping up work before his paternity leave. He saw me and rushed to my side, his hands gently steadying me. “You should be resting. Is everything okay?” I gripped his hand, hesitating for only a second before looking him straight in the eye. “Noah, do you trust me?” He guided me to the sofa, his voice calm and slow. “You’re my wife. Of course, I trust you. Sit down. Tell me what’s wrong.” The tension in my shoulders began to ease. I let out a long breath and told him everything, from my rebirth to the phone call. “I know it sounds insane,” I finished, my voice catching in a sob as the memories of my past life flooded back. “But I lived it. Or, if you can’t believe that, just think of it as a premonition, a nightmare that felt too real. I just don’t want our child to…” 2 Noah wrapped his arms around me, his voice a soft murmur against my hair. “I believe you. What do you want to do?” “Let’s leave. Let’s get out of this city, go somewhere else to have the baby.” My due date was just days away. The best plan was to put as much distance as possible between us and Lydia, then figure out the rest later. Noah took my hands in his, his grip firm and reassuring. “Okay. I’ll book the flights. We can leave right now.” He quickly packed a bag while I changed. A few minutes later, he was helping me to the door. The moment he opened it, a cold dread shot up my spine. My blood turned to ice. Lydia. She was standing on our doorstep. How? In my past life, she hadn’t shown up here. Noah’s hand on my back was a silent source of strength. I forced a smile. “Lydia, what are you doing here?” Her gaze flickered to the suitcase in Noah’s hand, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. “You’re about to give birth. I was worried, so I decided to stay with you for the next few days.” Her eyes locked onto mine. “Are you two headed to the hospital already? You were supposed to call me. Why were you leaving without a word? Or were you trying to keep me from my little husband?” My heart skipped a beat. Noah stepped in front of me, his voice perfectly calm. “You’ve misunderstood, Lydia. Clara’s been feeling a lot of movement the last couple of days. We were just heading to a private wellness retreat owned by a friend of mine. It’s quiet, and they have doctors on call 24/7. It’s safer.” Before I could say a word, Lydia’s gaze, sharp and venomous, pinned me in place. “Great, I’ll come with you. It’s perfect! I need to get the nursery ready for my little husband!” She chattered on, completely ignoring us as she linked her arm through mine. Her grip was surprisingly strong. This wasn’t the time to fight her. If she became truly suspicious, getting away would be impossible. Noah and I exchanged a look. We had no choice. We took Lydia with us to the retreat. It was clear now. To escape her, we had to go somewhere she could never find us. At the retreat, Lydia never left my side, a 24/7 shadow. She spent hours just staring at my belly, her eyes glowing with a proprietary zeal. She wouldn’t let anyone else touch it. Once, I accidentally brushed my own hand against it, and she slapped it away. “He’s my future husband,” she hissed. “Don’t you dare touch him!” Her glare was so poisonous that I flinched, snatching my hand back as if I’d been burned. The baby was moving more and more frequently now, and Lydia’s anticipation grew with each passing day. She stroked my stomach, her face alight with excitement. “Clara, I can’t wait to meet him. Why don’t you just have the C-section today?” A shiver of pure horror went through me. I stared at her in disbelief. “What? It’s not time yet! A premature C-section is dangerous for both of us!” “No, it’s not. I already asked the doctor. He’s fully developed. It’s perfectly fine to deliver him now.” I’d had enough. I shoved her hand away. “No! Don’t you even think about it!” Her face darkened for a moment, then softened into an apologetic smile. “Oh, Clara, I’m sorry. I was just talking nonsense. Don’t be angry with me.” I closed my eyes, a deep sense of unease settling in my stomach. I tossed and turned all night, only managing to drift off as the sun began to rise. In a hazy dream, I felt the bed was moving. My eyes snapped open. Lydia, along with a doctor and two nurses, were wheeling me down the hall toward an operating room. “What are you doing? Stop!” I screamed. Lydia just smiled, patting my arm. “Don’t worry, Clara. You’ll get to meet our baby soon. I’ll be right here.” “I don’t consent to this! This is illegal! Stop right now!” The medical staff ignored me. I struggled to get up, but Lydia and the nurses held me down. “Just listen to me, Clara,” she cooed. “It’ll be better for everyone if our little husband comes out early.” “Now!” she barked at the doctor. “Inject the anesthetic! Quiet her down!” The cold sting of an alcohol swab on my arm. The glint of a needle poised to pierce my skin. I closed my eyes, a wave of despair washing over me.

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