Category: English

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

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

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

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The fresh grad I’d been mentoring for three months suddenly looked up from her phone and asked, “Sarah, is the company withholding your paycheck or something?” “What do you mean?” I asked, pausing my typing. “I just saw my pay stub. I’m making $140k base, but the internal sheet says you’re at $110k. That has to be a payroll glitch, right?” She looked at me with wide, innocent eyes, completely unaware that she had just committed a murder. Starting that day, I began quietly messaging every veteran employee in my department. One month later, when twenty-three of us handed in our resignation letters simultaneously… The CEO finally realized who was actually keeping his ship afloat. Chapter 1 “Sarah, you must be pulling in, what, like $160k? My $140k barely covers rent in the Bay Area these days.” The straw in my iced oat milk latte froze halfway to my mouth. The boba pearls clinked softly against the plastic cup. Across from me, Brittany, the new hire, blinked her doe eyes, waiting for validation. $140k? My salary was $110k. I had been grinding at this “Internet Giant” for three years. $110k. “You… how much did you say?” I tried to keep my voice steady. “140,” Brittany said, nodding matter-of-factly as she chewed on a pearl. “HR told me that for someone with an overseas Master’s, that’s just the starting market rate.” She sighed, a humble-brag dripping from her lips. “Ugh, but San Francisco is so expensive. My studio apartment in SoMa alone eats up nearly four grand a month.” I set my drink down. Suddenly, the sugar rush felt like acid reflux. Three years ago, I graduated from a top state university with honors and fought tooth and nail to get into this company. Starting salary: $85k. I was the first one in, the last one out. I put out fires. I trained newbies. My direct supervisor, Director Miller, always praised me as “reliable” and “the backbone of the team.” Whenever colleagues hit a wall, their first instinct was always: “Ask Sarah.” Three years of blood, sweat, and tears for a $25k bump. And sitting across from me was Brittany. She’d been here a week. She barely knew how to log into the VPN. And she was making $30k more than me. “Sarah, you okay?” Brittany asked, feigning concern. “Is the latte bad? We can try that viral spot next time.” I shook my head, forcing a smile. “No, it’s fine. I just remembered I have a sync meeting later.” “Oh, you work too hard,” Brittany waved her hand dismissively. “It’s just a job. With our degrees, we could go anywhere. No need to burn out.” Degrees. I thought about Brittany’s resume. A one-year Master’s program in the UK. Her practical skills were non-existent. Yesterday, I asked her to organize a user research report. She literally Googled an article, changed the title, and emailed it to me. Chapter 2 Meanwhile, I had three years of frontline product experience and held half the department’s core user data in my head. And I was the discount labor. “By the way,” Brittany leaned in, whispering conspiratorially. “I heard comp reviews are next month. With your experience, you’ll probably bump up to $180k, right?” I almost choked. Last year, my raise was $5k. The year before? $8k. The excuse was always: “Sarah, you’re young. Look at the long game. The company takes care of its own.” “Actually,” Brittany continued, oblivious to my internal screaming, “I don’t think $180k is even that high. My friend just started at a competitor for $175k base.” I took a deep breath and stood up. “Brittany, let’s head back. I need to prep for the afternoon meeting.” “Aww, but my croissant isn’t here yet,” she whined. “Get it to go,” I said, pulling out my phone to pay the bill. I didn’t tell her that this “afternoon tea” cost me two days of my grocery budget. Shutterstock Back at the office, I walked straight to the HR Director’s glass office. Linda was sipping her artisanal pour-over coffee. Seeing me enter, she put on her corporate mask. “Sarah! What can I do for you?” I cut the small talk. “Linda, I want to review my compensation package. And I’d like to understand the pay bands for the new graduate hires.” Linda’s smile faltered for a microsecond before resetting. She pulled a file from her drawer. “Sarah, your compensation is aligned with company standards for your current level.” She paused, her voice taking on that patronizing, ‘HR-splaining’ tone. “Regarding the new hires… the market is volatile. Top-tier talent commands a premium right now. It’s just supply and demand.” “We veterans need to look at the big picture. Don’t fixate on the number. The company offers a platform for growth and comprehensive benefits. Those are ‘hidden paychecks.’” I flipped open the file on her desk. It was right there. Brittany, Product Specialist, $140,000/yr. Kevin (another new grad), $135,000/yr. And next to my name? That stinging $110,000. Even the intern next door who just converted to full-time was rumored to be at $115k. I closed the folder and looked Linda in the eye. “I understand, Linda.” My voice was calm. Too calm. Linda exhaled, clearly relieved. “I knew you were sensible, Sarah. Don’t sweat the short-term stuff. We value your loyalty and dedication. Future looks bright.” I nodded and walked out. Loyalty? Dedication? I was done eating the pie in the sky. I sat at my desk and opened a new, password-protected document. Filename: Project_Exodus.docx. I documented everything. Brittany’s salary confession, Linda’s gaslighting, the pay bands. Then, I opened the internal directory. I found the veterans. The ones like me, who had been grinding for years while inflation ate their paychecks. I sent a blind message to their personal numbers: Do you feel like your paycheck matches your output? Then I updated my LinkedIn and started teaching Brittany everything I knew. I was going to train her to replace me. I wanted to see if she was worth that $140k price tag. Chapter 3 Linda’s “loyalty” speech didn’t pacify me; it radicalized me. I started watching Brittany like a hawk. Monday morning. Weekly sync to discuss the Q4 product launch. I was presenting my strategy—a plan I’d spent three all-nighters perfecting, backed by hard data. Mid-sentence, a hand shot up. “Sarah, sorry to interrupt,” Brittany said, adjusting her designer glasses. “But isn’t this approach a little… dated?” The room went silent. “When I was studying in London,” she continued, voice dripping with unearned confidence, “we used a ‘Viral Loop Growth Model.’ It’s way more effective than this traditional funnel stuff.” Before I could respond, Director Miller’s eyes lit up. “Oh? Tell us more, Brittany! We need fresh blood and bold ideas!” He actually waved me off. “Sarah, hold on. Let Brittany speak.” I shut my laptop. Brittany strutted to the screen. Her slide deck was pretty—full of buzzwords and flashy graphics. She talked about a viral marketing case study from a dating app in Europe. It sounded impressive to the ignorant. But anyone who actually knew our user base knew this was suicide. The demographics were completely different. Her data was three years old. “Brilliant! Innovative!” Miller clapped like a seal. He beamed at Brittany like she was Elon Musk. “This is the global vision we need!” He turned to me, his face stern. “Sarah, scrap your plan. We’re going with Brittany’s strategy. Learn from the younger generation. Don’t be a dinosaur.” I looked at Miller’s excited face and felt nothing but cold detachment. He didn’t care if it worked. He just wanted to put “AI-driven Viral Loop” on his quarterly report to the VP. Chapter 4 After the meeting, Brittany stopped by my desk. “Sarah, don’t take it personally,” she smiled, a shark baring teeth. “I just think if you learn new things abroad, you should share them. Your experience is cute, but you need to update your database.” She handed me a flash drive. “Here are some case studies and papers from my professor. You should read them.” The audacity. It was breathtaking. I took the drive. “Thanks, Brittany. I’ll study hard.” I plugged it in. Garbage. It was a folder of blog posts and generic white papers she’d likely pirated or downloaded from LinkedIn influencers. I saved everything. Folder name: Brittany’s_Sources. Then, I opened her “Viral Loop” proposal. I began to “refine” it. Where her logic was flawed, I made the flaw bigger. Where her data was shaky, I leaned into it. I crafted a perfect disaster. A plan so beautiful and so fundamentally broken that it would implode on launch day. My phone buzzed. Kelly, a headhunter I’d known for years. Kelly: Sarah, two companies bit. An EdTech unicorn needs a Product Lead. $180k + equity. And an E-commerce giant wants a Growth Manager. $190k base. I stared at the numbers. Me: Set up the interviews. ASAP. Kelly: Fast! You finally ready to jump ship? Me: Oh, I’m already packing my bags. Chapter 5 Brittany’s project became the department’s golden child. I was assigned to “assist” her. Which meant I did the work, and she took the credit. I watched her present my sabotaged plan in meetings, Miller nodding along like a bobblehead. December rolled around. Bonus season. The email hit everyone’s inbox. Bonus Structure Update: 1. “Rising Star Award”: New hires (<1 year) with excellent performance get an extra 1-2 months salary bonus. 2. "Future Leader Award": New hires who contribute to key projects get 2-3 months bonus and fast-track promotion. I read it three times. Nothing for veterans. Just the standard "N-multiplier," based on our already stagnant salaries. Next to me, Mike, a senior dev who’d been here six years, slammed his laptop shut. "Are they actually joking?" Brittany popped her head up like a gopher. "Guys! Did you see? I think I qualify for the Rising Star and the Future Leader! That’s like... an extra $30k! Yay!" Mike looked like he was about to flip a table. "That's great," he deadpanned. That night, the department dinner. "Pre-Holiday Celebration." Director Miller raised a glass of wine. "This year was tough, but we made it! Especially thanks to..." He pointed at Brittany and the other fresh grads. "...Our new blood! The future is in your hands!" "To the youth!" Brittany and her crew stood up, beaming. We, the "Old Guard," sat there holding our water glasses, smiling stiffly. Miller turned to us. "And to our veterans... keep being the ladder. Support the youth. Your sacrifice paves the road for their success!" Mike kicked me under the table. I took a sip of orange juice. Be the ladder? You want to step on our faces to climb up? Fine. But ladders can collapse.

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1 On the eve of our wedding, my fiancée Aria’s childhood sweetheart came back. Caleb Chrest, the golden boy who once had the world at his feet, had been reduced to a simpleton by a tragic accident. Now, he wouldn’t let anyone near him except Aria. I thought she would keep her distance. After all, eight years ago, they had destroyed each other, a spectacular implosion that ended with Caleb fleeing the country and Aria’s entire family in the hospital. Since she’d been with me, I was her entire world. Our friends always teased her about it, calling her famously devoted now that her long-time crush—me—had finally become her fiancé. But now, she was on the phone, frantically arranging to pick him up, so absorbed she didn’t even notice I’d come home. “Cancel the setup at the venue for now,” she was saying, her voice strained. “Caleb can’t handle the idea of me getting married.” She let out a soft, confident breath. “Don’t worry, Ethan won’t mind. He loves me so much. He even cut ties with his family just to marry me…” Aria was so certain I’d do anything for her. What she didn’t know was that my father’s favorite game was pretending to disapprove. Not only had he prepared an astronomical “dowry” to help this ‘imposter’ heiress secure her position in the Monroe family, but he had also hand-picked another fiancée for me long ago… … A few days ago, I’d heard rumors that Caleb was back in the country, demanding that Aria come get him. I didn’t think anything of it. She hadn’t reacted to the news either, other than being too nervous and excited about our wedding to sleep. But now, the wedding I had dreamed of for years was just an inconvenient ceremony she needed to postpone. Her line was busy, so I drove to the hotel myself. The grand ballroom, which had been nearly transformed for our ceremony, was stripped bare. Everything had been packed away. The hotel manager conveniently avoided me. I went home, a cold fury simmering in my gut. Just as I was about to confront her, two vases came hurtling toward me. “Thief! Robber! Who said you could steal my Aria?” Shards of porcelain skittered across the floor, one slicing into my calf. I cried out in pain, stumbling backward. But Caleb wasn’t finished. He lunged at me, grabbing a handful of sharp fragments as if he couldn’t feel the pain, and tried to throw them at my face. I instinctively threw my arms up to block him. “Caleb!” Aria screamed, rushing out of the kitchen and grabbing his hand. The throbbing pain in my leg mixed with a surge of angry, wounded betrayal. This was the woman who used to fret over a papercut on my finger, and now she hadn’t even glanced at me. “Caleb, are you trying to destroy your hand?” she cried, her voice laced with panic. She immediately fetched the first-aid kit and began tending to his wounds, her brow furrowed with heartache. I looked around, and a wave of dizziness hit me. It wasn’t just Aria who seemed like a stranger; the whole house was alien. The designer watches she’d given me, the latest season’s menswear—all of it had been moved into a new, separate room. The rest of our home was a scene of utter devastation. Our wedding portrait and all our other photos together were shredded on the floor. The festive crimson banners we’d hung were torn down and crumpled. Anything red, anything that symbolized our union, had been destroyed. The Monroe family’s housekeeper was cleaning up the mess, while Aria’s neat handwriting on sticky notes directed her where to place Caleb’s garish action figures. She’d even installed protective corner guards on the tables. She was still so meticulous, just as she had been when she designed every inch of this home with me. But this was supposed to be our home. The unease I’d been feeling solidified into a cold, hard dread. “Aria, what is the meaning of this?” It was as if she’d only just remembered I existed. She turned, the gentle, placating smile she’d been giving Caleb freezing on her lips. Her eyes darted around the ruined room, and a look of guilt and panic flashed across her face. “Ethan…” As she started to rise, Caleb wrapped his arms around her waist and started to sob like a child. “Aria, why were you mean to me just now?” he wailed, then pointed a trembling, accusatory finger at me. “Was it because of him? Because of this pretty boy who stole you from me?” Aria finally noticed the blood trickling down my leg. With a sigh of resignation, she gestured for the housekeeper to come bandage my wound, then pulled me tensely into the study. “Ethan, please don’t be angry with Caleb,” she began, her voice hesitant. “I know he’s older than you, but mentally… he’s stuck at around ten years old.” “He’s always been possessive,” she continued, her tone pleading. “I just looked away for a second and he destroyed the house. You can understand that, can’t you?” She wouldn’t meet my eyes, but her resolve hardened. “You know what happened. After his family went bankrupt, his parents disappeared. He doesn’t remember any of his other relatives or friends. Caleb… he only has me now.” Then came the final blow. “He’ll be living with us from now on.” The decision was so sudden, so absurd, it was almost laughable. “No. I don’t understand, and I don’t accept it.” The words felt like acid on my tongue. “First you cancel the wedding, now you’re redecorating our home for him. Should I just give him my spot in our bed, too?” A look of relief washed over her face. “Oh, so you already know about the wedding?” 2 Aria started rubbing my shoulders, the way she always did to calm me down. She let out a small, placating laugh. “Honey, you’re not actually jealous of someone with the mind of a child, are you? Look, we can go get the marriage license in a couple of days. As for the ceremony, we’ll have a proper one once his condition stabilizes.” I pulled away from her touch, my disappointment a lead weight in my stomach. “What does his condition have to do with us?” Her face was a mask of guilt. “His psychological problems started after I forced him to leave the country. When he heard about our engagement, he got drunk and had an accident. It took him over a year to recover to… this state.” She finally looked at me, her eyes filled with a terrible certainty. “It’s my fault. I owe him this. I have to take responsibility for him.” This wasn’t a discussion. It was a declaration. I knew Aria. That unshakeable resolve, once a quality I admired, now felt like a dagger in my heart. That night, she smoothed things over with her family and posted on social media, confirming the wedding was postponed. My father’s call came soon after. His voice was tight with barely suppressed rage. “Ethan. Is this wedding not happening?” I gripped the phone, forcing my voice to remain steady. “No. Not for now.” The story Aria heard—that I’d cut ties with my family—was just an exaggeration of my father’s anger when I’d refused to have our main wedding ceremony in our hometown of Northwood. I didn’t sleep that night, lost in memories. I remembered the day Aria found out I loved her back. She was so ecstatic she wanted to shout it from the rooftops. My father had initially disapproved of our relationship; he already had the perfect daughter-in-law in mind. But Aria never complained. She just worked tirelessly to prove herself worthy. Even though she thought I came from a modest background, she never once treated me with anything but respect. “It must be me,” she’d say. “I’m just not good enough to make your father happy yet.” Everyone knew Aria was determined to marry me. The wild, rebellious girl I first met had slowly transformed into a poised and capable woman. It was only after she achieved incredible success at her company that my father finally gave her his blessing. On the day we got engaged, she cried with joy. “I promise, sir,” she told him, “I will never, ever let Ethan down.” And she hadn’t. She was fiercely loyal, shutting down any hint of flirtation from others, always putting me first. But the moment Caleb Chrest came back, she broke her promise. … The next morning, Aria emerged from Caleb’s room, dark circles under her eyes. Seeing my stunned expression, she explained awkwardly, “He gets anxious. He needs someone to soothe him to sleep.” I walked past her, heading for the closet to put away the tuxedo I’d had meticulously prepared for our wedding. But the display stand was empty. A terrible premonition coiled in my stomach. Laughter echoed from downstairs. I found Caleb there, wearing my tuxedo, gleefully painting on the walls with his hands. The jacket was covered in childish graffiti. The pant legs had been crudely hacked short. It was slathered in so many colors of paint it was unrecognizable. A roaring sound filled my ears. That suit was more than just fabric and thread. My mother, before she passed, had designed it for me, pouring over draft after draft. It wasn’t just a memento; it was a mother’s love and blessings for her son, woven into every stitch. Now, it was ruined. Defiled. He twirled in front of me, his eyes holding a clear, defiant challenge. For a split second, there was no trace of the simpleton, only sharp, calculating intelligence. I saw it all in that instant. “Hey, bad guy,” he chirped, his voice mocking. “What do you think of my new clothes? Aren’t all the colors pretty?” My fists clenched, rage, hot and blinding, shot through me. “Take it off.” He ignored me, dipping his fingers back into the paint. “Why should I? I don’t want to! Aria said this is my home now when we were sleeping last night. She said everything here can be mine.” I grabbed him by the collar and slapped him, hard, across the face. Twice. “Aria! Help me!” he shrieked, bursting into tears. “I said,” I snarled, my voice low and dangerous, “take it off!” He thrashed and clawed at my hands, but I didn’t let go. I raised my hand to strike him again, but Aria caught my wrist. Caleb scrambled into her arms like a frightened animal, sobbing that I was trying to kill him. Aria looked at me with a cold, guarded expression. “It’s just a suit, Ethan! Why are you going crazy and hitting him?” I was shaking with fury. “He’s faking it!” She didn’t believe me. Her eyes followed my gaze to the ruined tuxedo on Caleb’s body, and her breath hitched. 3 “Caleb! Didn’t I tell you not to touch Ethan’s things? You—” Caleb gasped for air, and then his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed. Aria caught him, her face pale with panic. She had the housekeeper change his clothes while she made a frantic series of calls, urging a doctor to come immediately. “Ethan,” she whispered, her voice pleading. “Please… don’t provoke him.” She still wanted me to be the one to yield. I numbly picked up the tattered remains of my suit from the corner where it had been tossed. A profound sense of powerlessness washed over me. When Aria came into my room later, she saw me packing a bag and her face fell. “Ethan, I’ll have it restored.” “It’s my fault, I should have been clearer with him,” she said hastily. “I’ll make him apologize to you right now.” She pulled me into Caleb’s room. He was clutching the corner of her shirt, looking lost and confused. “Aria, don’t be mad at me.” “You said… you said this was my home. Why should I listen to… to him?” He looked at me, and his expression suddenly twisted into a mask of pure desperation. He scrambled off the bed and started banging his head on the floor. “Please, I’m begging you, just leave!” he sobbed. “You can have all my toys! I just want Aria!” I saw shock and conflict flicker in Aria’s eyes. She didn’t immediately pull him up. When she finally moved to comfort me, Caleb let out a wild scream and pulled out a knife he’d hidden, holding it to his own wrist. “Aria is all I have! Make him get out!” The psychologist later told her Caleb had a “physiological aversion” to me. Watching him sob until he could barely breathe, Aria wrapped her arms around him, shielding his eyes from the sight of me. “His emotional state is too unstable,” she said, her voice strained. “Ethan, you need to leave. For now.” Two nurses she had called for backup escorted me firmly out the door. It was pouring rain outside. I knocked, but no one answered. My vision blurred, and a deep chill settled into my bones. I didn’t have my phone, and I was still in my pajamas. My only option was to walk out of the gated community to find a place where I could call for a ride. … I ended up in the hospital with a fever from the cold. As I was waiting, I saw Aria rushing down a hallway and instinctively followed her. “It’s been six months. Why hasn’t his condition improved?” It was the psychologist’s voice. “Aria, his obsession is you. That’s why you’re the only person he remembers.” The doctor sighed. “You’re the one who deliberately sent him the engagement announcement that triggered his accident in the first place…” “The reason he hasn’t gotten better is because you used to only visit him once a month. Of course he’s terrified you’ll abandon him again. It’s perfectly normal for him to be hostile toward your fiancé. If you don’t want Caleb to have another breakdown, you need to remove the source of his insecurity.” Aria’s voice was sharp with warning. “That’s enough. Don’t talk nonsense.” So. They had been in contact for a year. No wonder she was so practiced at handling him. The irony was suffocating. All those “monthly business trips” she’d told me about… My complete and total trust in her was now a cruel joke. Because of today’s incident, she had even hired bodyguards for Caleb. That evening, Aria picked me up so I could pack some of my things. She stared at my red-rimmed eyes, her voice soft and cautious. “Ethan… would you be willing to move out for a little while?” She showed me her phone. She had already booked our appointment to register the marriage. I nodded, turned off my screen, and closed my burning eyes. When we got back to the house, there was a puppy in the backyard. The engagement ring Aria had worn was now hanging from its collar. The reason? Caleb was afraid the puppy would get lost, and the unique ring would make a perfect dog tag. I calmly slipped my matching ring from my finger and dropped it into my pocket. Then, I opened my phone and accepted a friend request I had been ignoring. A message came through immediately. [Don’t worry. All the years of support Mr. Kensington has given the Monroe family will not be in vain.] Attached was a wedding plan, updated annually to reflect my changing tastes. In the past, my father had always declined it on my behalf. This time, I replied with a single word. [Approved.] … Two days later, a message from Aria popped up. [I thought we agreed to get our marriage license today? Ethan, why didn’t you show up?] I was busy with work transitions and ignored her calls. A few hours later, she sent me the address of a remote, no-name hotel. [Is this about the wedding? Fine. I’ll give you a wedding.] [Stop throwing a tantrum. We’ve been together for nearly ten years. Don’t let a small thing like this…] Someone leaked a screenshot of the cheap, thrown-together venue to our friends’ group chat, along with the fact that Aria had only invited a handful of people and begged them to keep it a secret. The same friends who had once envied our love story were now openly and privately mocking me. Our ten years, it seemed, couldn’t compete with Caleb’s ten-year-old mind. The messages in the group chat kept coming. I paused, typed out a short reply, and hit send. [Wedding’s off. We broke up.]

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As Hugh Sullivan’s intended wife, the title of “Mrs. Sullivan” was the last thing I ever wanted. On our wedding day, standing outside the dressing room, I overheard a conversation between my father and Hugh. “Hugh, are you truly willing to marry Elara for Celia’s sake?” “If you have second thoughts now, I can still find someone else to take her place.” A heavy sigh from Hugh. “I’m the only one who can tie Elara down, make her give up her claim on the inheritance. Everything I’m doing… it’s all for Celia.” A slow, silent smile spread across my lips. Oh, Father. You’ve grown so foolish in your old age. Did you really think marrying me off would be enough to neutralize me? That it would clear the way for you to welcome your illegitimate children into the family and hand them the Vance family’s billion-dollar fortune? And Hugh… he gave himself far too much credit. The only reason I agreed to this union, the only reason I gave him a second glance, was because he was the man Celia Vance had her heart set on. And what could be more satisfying than stealing the one thing your enemy cherishes, using him completely, and then casting him aside? After all, my mother taught me from a young age: what is yours, you take back, by any means necessary. 1 My father clapped Hugh on the shoulder, his voice heavy with meaning. “I appreciate your devotion to Celia. After the wedding, I’ll transfer five percent of Vance Enterprises’ stock to you as compensation.” But Hugh refused flatly. “I don’t want compensation. When Celia gets back from her trip, I just want to be the one to explain this to her, to make it right.” Celia. Always the precious jewel they cradled in their hands. To avoid upsetting her, my father had conveniently sent her on an overseas vacation right before my wedding. I’d expected this, of course, but hearing the words spoken aloud still sent a familiar pang through my chest. I pursed my lips and turned away, quietly signaling my makeup artist to fetch the wedding ring I’d “forgotten.” What isn’t mine, I don’t want. But what is rightfully mine… you will never take from me. The ceremony reached its peak. With a perfect, demure smile, I linked my arm through my father’s and walked toward Hugh. He placed my hand solemnly into Hugh’s, patting our joined hands with a look of fatherly affection and concern. “Elara, you only just returned home… and with your mother gone so early, and me so busy with work… I haven’t been able to care for you properly. Now that you’re marrying Hugh, I can finally rest easy, knowing he’ll look after you.” I dug my nails into my own thigh, hard, until the sting brought tears to my eyes. I let out a choked sob and threw myself into my father’s arms. Peeking over his shoulder at Hugh, I whispered in a trembling, childish voice, “Daddy, what if… what if Hugh isn’t good to me?” Hugh’s body went rigid, his brow furrowing in a flicker of irritation. “Elara, I’ll be good to you for the rest of our lives.” A pathetic performance. I scoffed internally, ignoring him completely. Clinging to my father’s arm, I rocked it gently. “Daddy, do you remember when I was eight and threw a tantrum because I wanted a little brother to protect me?” “You spun me around and around, and you told me I was your one and only precious pearl, and that you would protect me forever.” My father’s smile faltered. He knew where this was going. But I pressed on, my voice dripping with manufactured innocence. “It was only later that I learned Mommy couldn’t have any more children after she had me. But you never cared about the rumors, about people saying you needed a son to be the ‘pillar of the family.’ You always took such good care of us.” “Even after Mom passed away five years ago, you never remarried or had other children. Daddy, thank you. Thank you for giving all your love to just me and Mom.” Coming from anyone else, such words would have melted a father’s heart. But my father had a secret mistress and two secret children tucked away in the shadows. He had always treated me like a naive little princess, assuming I was clueless about his affair, about the second family he’d raised behind our backs. His plan was to use this very reception to bring his mistress and illegitimate children out into the open, to force me to accept them. I wouldn’t give him the chance. Before he could muster a response, the guests began to murmur their approval. “Harrison Vance is famous for doting on his wife and daughter. He’s a true role model in our circle.” “A man of such high moral character, it’s no wonder he’s built such an empire. He’s an inspiration to us all.” My father prized his public image above all else. The praise from his peers sealed his lips shut. His face was a mask of strained discomfort as he instinctively glanced toward the audience, where I knew Madeline and her son, Caleb, were sitting. Their faces were tight, their fists clenched. Their long-planned ambush had been effortlessly dismantled by my “innocent” little speech, and now they were all squirming, trapped in the spotlight. I kept my expression pure and deeply moved, but inside, I was fighting back a triumphant laugh. My father sighed heavily, but I wasn’t done yet. I decided to turn up the heat. “Daddy,” I said, my voice clear and loud. “Even though I’m getting married, I’ll still be your only child, right? Your most precious pearl, forever and ever?” 2 A sharp, audible gasp from my father. I beamed, my eyes wide with expectation, locking him in place. If he admitted it, here, in front of everyone, that I was his only child, then Celia and Caleb would be condemned to the shadows forever. If he denied it, all the praise he’d just accepted would turn into a hail of scorn, branding him a hypocrite. Down in the audience, Madeline’s fist was clenched so tight her knuckles were white. This man, so decisive and ruthless in the boardroom, was now paralyzed by the simplest of questions. The loving smile vanished from his face, replaced by a storm of conflict. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. Hugh shot a panicked look from my father to me, his expression twisting into one of pure disgust. “Elara, don’t push him. Can we please just continue the ceremony?” So, they were allowed to plot against me, but my fighting back was an inconvenience? I turned my head away petulantly. “No. Daddy hasn’t answered my question yet. I spent so many years alone overseas… I feel so insecure. I just need his promise. I need to know that whether I’m married or not, I’ll always be his only child, that he’ll never abandon me.” Perhaps it was guilt over my mother’s death. Perhaps it was the social blade held to his neck. Whatever the reason, my father finally broke. “Elara, don’t overthink things,” he conceded, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. “How could I ever abandon you? You will always be my only child.” Victory. I threw my arms around him again. “Daddy, I love you so much!” The hall erupted in applause. In my peripheral vision, I saw Madeline and Caleb rise from their seats, their faces black with rage, and storm out of the room. The look Hugh was giving me now wasn’t just disgust; it was pure hatred. I, however, savored it. I loved seeing him despise me while being forced to play the part of the doting husband. Amidst the cheers and applause, Hugh and I exchanged rings. When it came time for the groom to kiss the bride, he hesitated, his lips pressed into a thin, resistant line. I just smiled and wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him closer. Just then, the grand doors of the hall were thrown open with a crash. Celia stormed in, her face a mask of fury. She marched right up to me and slapped me hard across the face. Her eyes were bloodshot. “You little homewrecker! You stole my boyfriend!” I didn’t feel anger. I felt a flicker of amusement. After all, I was the one who’d secretly leaked the wedding details to her. Celia turned to Hugh, tears streaming down her face, her voice a pathetic wail. “Hugh, why? Why would you marry this woman?!” Hugh shoved me away instinctively. He took a step toward her, then froze, his fists clenching at his sides, his eyes filled with pain. The guests broke into a frenzy of whispers. “Who is that? Does she have a death wish, trying to steal Harrison Vance’s son-in-law?” “Seriously, they’re already married. To make a scene like this… how shameless.” Even under the weight of their scorn, Celia held her head high with an air of defiant arrogance. I looked at Hugh, my voice trembling with practiced vulnerability. “Who is this girl? Hugh, don’t you think you owe me an explanation?” A vein throbbed in Hugh’s temple, but he remained silent. “Hugh,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Now that we’re married, you need to get your affairs in order. Please don’t let people like her humiliate me like this. It… it scares me.” Perhaps I played the part of the fragile victim too well. They both underestimated me completely. Hugh finally spoke, his voice low and placating. “Celia, it’s not what you think. Go home for now. I’ll explain everything later, okay?” Celia looked like she was about to strike me again, but my father, ever conscious of the situation, boomed, “Enough!” She shot me one last hateful glare before spinning on her heel and leaving. I watched her go, a deep, cold hatred churning in the pit of my stomach. My mother’s death was not an accident, and I knew she and her family were involved. I was back now. And I was taking everything: the inheritance, the company, and the truth. 3 After that fiasco, neither my father nor Hugh had any appetite for entertaining guests. This gave me the perfect opportunity to mingle, making my face known to the titans of industry present. As things stood, I was, undeniably, the sole heir to Vance Enterprises. These corporate sharks, seeing how “malleable” I appeared, were all too eager to offer their support, their eyes gleaming with greed and calculation. My informant inside the Vance mansion told me that my father had postponed his plan to publicly announce his other family. Predictably, this led to a tearful, dramatic scene. It took hours of placating from my father to calm Madeline and her two children. Even Hugh, my brand-new husband who should have been with me, rushed over on the pretext of an “urgent business matter.” I can only imagine what new scheme they concocted to pacify the trio. In the end, Hugh was seen escorting Celia to her room. He didn’t emerge for two hours. He finally returned home at three in the morning and went straight to the study to sleep. The next day, Madeline, who had been my father’s executive assistant, was inexplicably promoted to Chief Financial Officer. Caleb went from a bottom-rung position at the main office to being appointed President of a subsidiary. Celia received the deed to a luxurious waterfront villa. And me? His legitimate daughter? To this day, I had never even set foot inside the corporate headquarters. It didn’t matter. I didn’t need to be there. My people—or rather, my mother’s people—were already inside. I also heard my father was establishing a new charity, “The Crestwood Foundation.” A thinly veiled attempt at legitimacy. Anyone with half a brain could see it was a fund for Caleb and Celia. The moment Hugh left for work, I made a call. “It’s time. And one more thing. Caleb is at the subsidiary now. He’s an incompetent, greedy, lecherous fool. Give him enough rope to hang himself. I want him to create the biggest disaster possible.” I had just hung up when I heard a key in the front door. I assumed it was Hugh, having forgotten something. But it was Celia. And behind her stood three menacing thugs. My eyes darted around the living room, taking in the evidence of my “work” from the previous night. I instinctively shrank back, my body trembling as I retreated further into the room. “What… what are you doing here? How do you have a key to my house?” “This is breaking and entering! It’s illegal!” My hands shook as I fumbled for my phone to call the police, but Celia swatted it out of my hand with a contemptuous slap. A vicious kick sent me sprawling to the floor. She grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head back. “Look at you, you pathetic little coward. How dare you steal my father? How dare you steal my Hugh?!” “You should have followed your dead mother’s example and gone straight to hell!” 4 I grabbed her wrist, struggling with all my might. “Who are you?! Don’t you dare insult my mother!” Celia sneered, striking me twice more across the face. “Listen up, you little bitch. My name is Celia Vance. Harrison Vance is my father, and I am his most beloved daughter!” “You’re nothing but a burden he dumped overseas, a nuisance who crawled her way back!” “It’s all your fault! Because of you, my family can’t be together openly!” My eyes widened in feigned disbelief, my voice quivering. “You’re lying! My father would never have another daughter!” Celia roared with laughter, only stopping after she’d beaten me until blood trickled from my nose and mouth. She looked down at me like I was trash. “A daughter is nothing,” she mocked. “I have a brother, too. And he is the true heir to the Vance fortune!” “I’m here to give you a warning. Get out of the country, or you’ll end up worse than your mother.” “And to think I brought all these guys to deal with you. You’re just as useless as that dead bitch you call a mother!” Something inside me snapped. “You can say whatever you want about me,” I screamed, “but you do not talk about my mother!” Fueled by rage, I lunged forward and sank my teeth into her wrist. Celia shrieked in pain. The three thugs immediately swarmed me, their fists and feet raining down on my body. Each dull thud was punctuated by Celia’s furious screams. “Little bitch! You dare bite me? Beat her! Beat her to death!” Someone stomped on my hand, grinding their heel into my knuckles. I felt a rib crack under a savage kick. I bit down hard, the taste of blood flooding my mouth. The world spun, and then everything went black. When I woke up, it was evening. I was in a VIP room at a private hospital, my body a symphony of pain. My father and Hugh were sitting by my bed. Seeing my eyes open, my father gripped my hand, his face etched with guilt. “Elara, you’re finally awake. You had me so worried.” I winced, my voice a weak rasp. “Dad… is it true? What she said? Do you really have another son and daughter?” He looked down, sighing heavily. It was a long moment before he spoke. “Elara, I’ve done you a great wrong. But Celia… she’s a sweet, kind-hearted girl. Once you get to know her, I’m sure you’ll grow to love her.” Tears of cold fury slid down my temples. “Dad, she beat me like this, and you’re telling me she’s kind?” Hugh quickly jumped to her defense. “Celia isn’t like that. There must have been some kind of misunderstanding.” I had wanted to give them one last chance, but their loyalties were clear. There was no point in wasting any more words. Just then, my father’s assistant burst into the room, his face pale with terror. “Mr. Vance, it’s terrible! The news… it’s leaked. About your mistress and… and the two children…” My father shot up from his chair, his voice cracking. “What did you say?!” The assistant held out his phone, his hand trembling. “It’s a top trending story. I… I don’t think we can contain this…” The battle-hardened businessman lost his composure. “How did this happen?!” he roared. “This is a complete humiliation!” “It seems… it seems Miss Celia let it slip…” the assistant stammered. At that moment, Hugh’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen and answered immediately. Celia’s terrified shriek echoed from the speaker. “Hugh, help me!” The color drained from Hugh’s face. “Celia, don’t be afraid! I’m on my way!” He snapped his phone shut and bolted from the room. My father was frantic. “What’s wrong with Celia?!” No one answered. He chased after Hugh, not sparing me a second glance. Watching them scramble away, I felt no disappointment. Only a rising tide of dark satisfaction. I had played their game for long enough. Now, the real show was about to begin.

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

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

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

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The famous movie star posted a tribute to her deceased lover, and my five-year-old son called the police on her. “If you’re building a persona of a heartbroken lover, why are you posting my Daddy’s picture?” Chloe Wood’s eyes were red as she explained, “It’s not marketing. That’s a picture of my deceased fiancé.” The photo showed me at eighteen. She didn’t love me then. She said I was the person she hated most. Now, she used a sentimental soundtrack with my picture, captioning it: [Six years gone since I lost my fiancé. I’ll never see your face again.] Everyone praised her devotion, envying me for being loved by her even in death. My son’s cheeks puffed up, and he yelled fiercely: “That is my Daddy! He is not dead! You can’t see your lover’s face, so you decided to publicly cremate my Daddy online, didn’t you?” 1 “Daddy, Baby needs to ask you something.” My five-year-old son, Ethan, suddenly ran up to me. His plump, red lips were pursed, and he said seriously: “Confess honestly and you’ll be treated leniently. Resist and you’ll be punished severely, got it?” I paused, slightly stunned. I rubbed his cheek, annoyed. “What good baby treats his Daddy like a criminal? You’re being too presumptuous, little man.” He batted my hand away, his small face serious and fierce, like a tiny adult. “Daddy, be serious! Answer the question honestly.” “Are you sick? Really sick, and you’re hiding it from me?” I stiffened. I wondered why the little guy was suddenly asking this. Ethan saw my reaction and assumed he had figured out my secret. He has a beautiful, sculpted face, a natural birthmark on his forehead, making him look like a picture-perfect cherub. He looked at me, pouting, his eyes glistening. “Don’t pretend, Daddy. I know everything.” I was completely dumbfounded. What did this little guy know? Was he just quoting something abstract he saw online? 2 He pulled a few sheets of paper from behind his back and slapped them onto the table. “You brought these papers home from the doctor, didn’t you?” “You thought hiding them in the drawer would work? Daddy, you underestimate me.” I realized they were the test results I got yesterday. He thought I was sick. Before I could speak, Ethan put his hands on his hips, his cheeks puffed up with indignation. “Baby’s little eyes might not read, but you can’t treat me like an idiot.” “These papers are exactly like the ones you got when you took me to the doctor when I was sick.” “So many papers! You must have a serious, serious illness.” As he spoke, his long lashes fluttered, and tears instantly sprang up. He wiped his face with a chubby hand, collapsing. “Daddy, what kind of awful illness do you have?” “Tell Baby! Baby can handle it…” The little guy was sobbing so hard my heart was breaking. I immediately pulled him into my arms, comforting him gently. “My Baby, don’t cry. Listen to Daddy.” “Daddy just went for a check-up. The doctor didn’t say I was sick.” The little guy stopped crying immediately, pearl-like tears clinging to his lashes. “Really? Daddy, we’re father and son. You can’t lie to me.” I nodded, assuring him I wasn’t lying. 3 In truth, I had gone to the hospital because I was in too much pain to work. It was late, and I hadn’t finished all the necessary tests. I needed to go back today. The doctor’s expression had been grim, leaving me deeply unsettled. My babysitter, Alex, arrived then. I hired him because of my work schedule; he’s newly graduated, cheerful, and Ethan loves him. Seeing Ethan’s damp lashes, Alex asked gently: “What happened? Did our Baby cry?” Ethan nodded, explaining vividly: “Yes. I was just playing a game of ‘abstract truth’ and scared myself.” Alex and I both laughed. I told Alex: “Stay with Ethan. I need to go out.” I started packing my things, planning to go to the hospital before returning to work. It was strange; Alex kept staring at me, as if there was something on my face. Suddenly, he asked: “Jay, do you know the movie star, Chloe Wood? Or rather, do you know her dead lover?” I froze, feeling uncomfortable. “Why?” Alex pulled out his phone. “Chloe Wood posted a picture of her deceased lover last night, and he looks exactly like you.” I lowered my gaze and saw the picture of myself. My mind instantly went blank. The caption felt incredibly piercing. After a long silence, I blinked, pulling my gaze away. I gave a faint smile. “No, I don’t know her. It must be a coincidence.” 4 While waiting for my test results, I scrolled through social media. I found a gossip account: [Movie Star Chloe Wood posts a memorial for her fiancé who died six years ago. The emotional music, coupled with her reply to a fan saying she regrets not loving him more, is truly heartbreaking.] [A fan commented that the photo looked familiar. Chloe replied: ‘Impossible. I watched him get cremated.’] [I thought she hadn’t found love yet, but she was already tragically bereaved. I feel so much sympathy for her grief.] I opened the comment section. I was stunned. [After you left, this world is your will, and I am your sole legacy… So touching. The man Chloe loves must have been so happy.] [I’m so jealous of that guy. She still loves him even though he’s dead.] [You can see how much Chloe loves him. I envy them.] [Ugh, I wish I were that man. I’d be happy even if I lived to a hundred, had billions in assets, and was feasting every day.] [That little jerk had good luck. Chloe still loves him six years after he died.] I stopped reading and scrolled down. The next post was Chloe’s. The photo showed me at eighteen. I had been madly in love with Chloe then. I pursued her relentlessly. But she didn’t love me, saying I was the person she hated most. Now, she used a sentimental soundtrack with my picture, captioning it: [Six years gone since I lost my fiancé. I’ll never see your face again.] In the comments, a local user wrote: [The photo looks familiar. I think I saw him a few days ago.] Chloe replied: [Impossible. I watched him get cremated.] Another user: [You must have loved him so much.] Chloe replied: [My greatest regret is not loving him properly back then.] I never imagined the person I had desperately pursued in my youth would say she loved me six years after my “death.” Was I sad? Happy? Or was it… ironic? 5 I stood alone after leaving the doctor’s office. I looked at the bustling crowds of patients, my mind blank. I felt confusion, helplessness, and a profound powerlessness against fate. My head was pounding, and my emotions were at a breaking point. I slowly crouched, leaning against the wall, hugging my knees, and crying softly. I kept asking myself: What do I do? What should I do? And Ethan… he’s only five. He’s still so young. Suddenly, I heard Ethan’s voice. I looked up, following the sound. A young man nearby was watching a video on his phone and had paused on Ethan. “You’re so pure, you’re 1080P. You mourn your dead lover, but you cremated my Daddy online…” Hearing that, I instantly sobered up and grabbed my phone. A pop-up notification appeared: [You follow EthanTheDaddy’sBoy. New update…] My little guy loves watching videos and often films himself doing daily things. Alex helps him share them on his account. The little guy now has 200,000 followers and is starting to get ad deals. He always shows me his videos, demanding I read the comments. When he gets an ad, he puffs up proudly and says: “Daddy, Baby is earning money with his face now. Isn’t that amazing?” 6 I clicked the notification. The video opened. The next second, I saw Ethan’s cheeks puffed up, his small brow furrowed in anger: “Aunties, Baby isn’t playing games today. This is very serious.” “Movie Star Chloe Wood, why did you post my Daddy’s picture to mourn your dead lover?” “I’m asking you. You’re a movie star, you’re so pure, you’re 1080P. You mourn your dead lover, but you cremated my Daddy online. That is so rude.” Ethan’s small, red lips trembled. He pointed at the camera, threatening fiercely: “My Daddy went to work this morning. Why did you watery-eyed people cremate him this afternoon?” “Whether you’re marketing a deep devotion persona or playing abstract, I called the police! You wait for jail!” The video ended there. Posted two hours ago. I was stunned. I immediately called Alex. He answered quickly. “Alex, where are you?” Alex spoke slowly: “Jay, we’re… at the police station.” “Ethan saw the gossip video, insisted Chloe’s photo was you, and called the police… The police officer has summoned Chloe. Jay, maybe you should come down?” My mind went blank. Then I blurted out: “Okay, I’m on my way.” I quickly packed my diagnostic report and left the hospital for the police station.

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