Category: English

I was the star recruit, the prodigy the university had paid a fortune to poach. In my last life, during the final round of the National AI Championship, the son of the university’s Chairman of the Board submitted an algorithm identical to mine. My own teammate, my supposed best friend, testified that he personally saw me plagiarize it from the chairman’s son. I was publicly shamed, dragged through the mud. My girlfriend was my only solace, her comfort the only thing that kept me going. The scandal was just starting to die down when compromising photos of me surfaced online. The story spun was that I’d only been accepted into this prestigious university because I was a sugar baby for some rich old man. The university, citing damage to its reputation, sued me for an exorbitant amount in damages. I had no way to pay. In the end, I turned on the gas and let the darkness take me. When I opened my eyes, I was back. One week before the competition deadline. This time, I decided to just quit. Let them have it. But then my girlfriend told me she had a kidney disease and desperately needed money for a transplant. 1 “Joey, you’re exhausted. Don’t sleep at your desk, you’ll catch a cold.” My best friend’s voice woke me. For a disoriented moment, I saw him—Bob, the snake who’d sold me out. I rubbed my eyes. It was really him. I swung my arm in a wide arc and slapped him across the face. A sharp crack echoed in the lab, followed by a high-pitched yelp. “Agh!” Bob stared at me, his eyes wide with disbelief. I was just as shocked. In my nightmares, I’d done this a thousand times, but my hand had always passed right through him. This time, it connected. I slowly became aware that the low hum of the lab had fallen silent. I looked around. Everyone was staring at us. What was going on? “Where am I?” Bob clutched his cheek, looking utterly bewildered. “Joey, are you still asleep or something? We’re in the lab!” My eyes shot to the calendar on the wall. September 1st. One week until the competition deadline. Of course. No wonder Bob was so surprised. He hadn’t stolen my code for Jack Thorne, the chairman’s son, yet. I scrambled to apologize. “Bob, man, I’m so sorry. I was out of it, must have been a bad dream.” Bob patted my shoulder, forcing a smile. “It’s fine, dude. I know you’ve been under a lot of pressure. It’ll all be over after the competition. I’m counting on you to win so you can buy me dinner!” I nodded along. “Yeah, the pressure’s been getting to me. Headaches all the time. I think I’m just going to go home and get some real sleep.” Ignoring Bob’s stunned expression, I packed my things and walked out. Without the betrayal of my past life, I never would have realized he wasn’t my friend. He was my warden. He wasn’t waking me up out of concern; he was waking me up to make sure I kept working, to make sure Jack Thorne would have a winning project to steal. In my previous life, the university had poached me with a ten-million-dollar scholarship, personally offered by Chairman Thorne. At first, I thought they just wanted a poster boy to attract more students. I never imagined I was being drawn into a massive conspiracy. To justify that scholarship, I entered every competition I could. And in every single one, my scores were identical to Jack Thorne’s. Slowly, Jack’s popularity eclipsed mine. He was hailed as the handsome, charming genius, the full package. I was just the book-smart scholarship kid who was trying too hard. The poor can’t produce real genius, they’d whisper. I became obsessed with proving myself. I entered more competitions, worked harder, but no matter what I did, Jack’s results always matched mine perfectly. The other students started to mock me. “He looks so ugly when he’s trying so hard to win,” they’d say. “Jack doesn’t even have to try.” Some even started a rumor that Jack was intentionally matching my scores out of pity. Jack would then put on a show of magnanimity. “Hey, don’t talk about Joey like that,” he’d say with a pained look. “He’s not as gifted, maybe, but he really does try his best.” This only made them praise Jack’s generosity and mock my supposed lack of talent even more. As graduation neared, I taught myself AI, figuring it was a field so new that Jack couldn’t possibly follow me into it. He signed up for the same championship. I remember Bob sighing dramatically, “It’s like there’s only room for one genius in this town.” Before the competition even began, the whispers started again. “Think you can beat our golden boy by taking a different path? Looks like you walked right into his territory.” “I don’t get why Chairman Thorne wasted so much money on that guy. He’s so desperate to win. He should’ve just given the ten million to his own son.” Their words were like fuel. I pushed myself harder, pulling all-nighters, fueled by coffee and spite. The competition had multiple tracks. I chose iris recognition, a niche and difficult field of biometric security. I never, ever imagined Jack would choose the exact same one. He submitted his code the day before I did. After I uploaded mine, I went home and slept for a full day and night. I woke up to find my world had ended. I was being crucified online. I was an ungrateful leech, they said, who took the Chairman’s money and then stole his son’s work. Bob and I had been inseparable during the entire development process. He was the one person who could prove my innocence. Instead, he went to the media, his face a mask of righteous indignation. “I told him not to do it,” he said, shaking his head sadly. “I warned him, but he was just so obsessed with beating Jack for once. I tried to stop him!” The truth hit me like a physical blow. He had been my shadow for months, watching every line of code I wrote. He was the leak. The baseless accusations from strangers were one thing, but the betrayal from my closest friend broke me. I fell into a deep depression. My girlfriend, Nina, was my rock, patiently pulling me back from the edge. But just as I was starting to recover, Jack’s fanatical supporters released the final blow: doctored photos of me in a compromising position with a bald, older man. I tried to explain that they were AI-generated deepfakes, but no one believed me. The narrative was set. I had slept my way into the university. The school sued me for twenty million dollars for defamation. I had nothing. My only way out was the gas stove. But now, fate has given me a second chance. And I refuse to be Jack Thorne’s stepping stone ever again. My plan is simple: tomorrow, I’m quitting the competition and just coasting until graduation. 2 The next morning, for the first time in months, I wasn’t in the lab at 5 AM. Bob, my loyal supervisor, was always there with me at 5 AM sharp. I would start coding, and he would promptly fall asleep at the next workstation. Today, he wasn’t getting his nap. He was panicking. My phone buzzed with a string of calls from him, all of which I ignored. It wasn’t until 10 AM, after I’d secured a fake doctor’s note from an urgent care clinic, that I finally picked up. “Joey! Where are you? Why aren’t you in the lab? I’ve been calling you all morning, why didn’t you answer?” His usual calm demeanor was gone, replaced by a sharp, frantic edge. I let out a fake cough. “I’m sick. Just got back from the doctor. Didn’t want to worry you, so I didn’t pick up. He said I’ve been running myself ragged and have a bad flu. Told me to rest for a week.” “But what about the AI championship? Chairman Thorne said he expects the winner to come from our university this year. Are you really going to let him down?” “It’s fine. I’m sick, but we still have Jack, right? I already gave my doctor’s note to the professor. She approved my withdrawal from the competition. I really don’t feel well. I’m going back to bed.” I hung up before he could argue. Back in my apartment, I collapsed onto my bed and went over the plan. If I don’t compete, none of the rest can happen. I’m just one person against a powerful family. This life, all I want is to live quietly and peacefully with Nina. Just as I was drifting off, my phone rang again. This time, it was Nina. “Joey, oh god, something’s wrong. I’m sick. I might need a kidney transplant. I need a lot of money!” I shot up in bed. “What? What happened?” Nina told me she had suddenly fainted and her classmates had rushed her to the hospital. The diagnosis was uremia. Kidney failure. My mind went blank. In my past life, Nina was perfectly healthy, right up until the day I died. She was never sick. Was this fate’s twisted joke? Was I destined to be separated from the one person I loved, no matter what? 3 Nina and I were childhood sweethearts. We’d been together for eight years; our bond was deep. When I was a kid, a fortune teller told my parents I was cursed and would bring them nothing but misfortune. They never let me forget it. The ten million dollar scholarship from Chairman Thorne? I gave it all to them to officially buy my freedom and sever all ties. Now, with Nina sick, I didn’t have a single penny to my name. But the prize money for the AI championship was two million dollars. Enough to save her. Was I really being forced back into the competition? I let out a long, heavy sigh. Maybe this was why I was brought back—not to escape my miserable fate, but to face it head-on. I canceled my medical leave and went back to the lab. The only person there was Bob. He gave me a smug look that said, I knew you’d be back. Seeing his triumphant expression, a hot spike of anger shot through me. “I’m still not feeling well,” I said coolly. “The professor agreed to let me work from home. So you don’t have to get up early to come to the lab with me anymore.” His smirk froze. As I started packing my laptop, he blurted out, “I can come with you! I’ll help you code at your place, and I can take care of you. How about that?” I politely declined. He opened his mouth to insist, but I was already out the door. I don’t know how much he got for selling me out in our last life, but I’ll be damned if he makes a cent off me in this one. My gut told me the Thornes wouldn’t give up that easily. Back at my apartment, I immediately swept my computer and my entire room for bugs, listening devices, and keylogging software. The scan came up clean. I could finally relax. I threw myself back into the work, writing and running code, losing track of time. Around 9 PM, my doorbell rang. It was Nina, a frown creasing her forehead. “Did you give Bob a hard time?” she demanded. “Do you have any idea how worried he was about you? Can you stop being so insanely jealous all the time? The only reason I even know Bob is because of you!” The accusation stung, but then I remembered how she’d stood by me in my past life, how she’d been my only light in the darkness. I couldn’t bring myself to argue with her. She was probably the only person in the world who truly cared about me. After a long internal debate, I decided to tell her everything. I laid out the whole story of my past life—Bob stealing my code for Jack, the public shaming, everything. Nina’s expression shifted from shock to pure fury. “How could they? Bob and the Thornes… that’s monstrous! So you’re just going to give up? But Joey… the doctor just told me today about my kidney. We need that money for a transplant!” A strange, unreadable emotion flickered in her eyes, gone as quickly as it appeared. “But no matter what,” she said, her voice firm, “Joey, you can’t enter this competition. I would rather die than see you dragged through the mud like that again!” My heart ached for her. I pulled her into a hug, tears streaming down my face. “How could I ever just watch you die? Bob won’t be around this time. I won’t let them steal it! Don’t worry, Nina. I will win that prize money, and I will get you that kidney!” Nina hugged me back, nodding into my shoulder. As if in response, the Thornes declared war. Chairman Thorne announced publicly that the winning iris recognition project from the competition would be implemented directly into his corporation’s financial software. Technology and application, seamlessly integrated. The prize money was increased accordingly. Everyone saw it as a done deal. The Chairman was just making sure the prize money stayed in the family. The winner would, of course, be Jack Thorne. Nina was my constant source of encouragement, urging me to block out the noise. To help me focus, she started bringing me nutritious, home-cooked meals every day, despite her own failing health. Her cooking was incredible, better than any five-star restaurant. Seeing her unwavering faith in me, I couldn’t bear the thought of letting her down. I worked late into the night, every night. Finally, on the last day before the deadline, I submitted my code with absolute confidence. The result was the same. A crushing, familiar disappointment. Jack Thorne had submitted his code ten minutes before me. The judges once again ruled that I was the plagiarist. And once again, I was thrown to the wolves. I hid in my apartment like a stray dog while Jack, dressed in a designer suit, accepted the award on a grand stage. Chairman Thorne presented him with the trophy himself, proudly announcing that his son’s revolutionary iris recognition system would go live that very night. Just like last time, the internet vultures descended, their comments more vicious than I remembered. Nina tried to take away my phone and laptop, to shield me from the hate, but I stopped her. Because this time, I was waiting for something. The next morning, a new headline screamed from the top of every news site. 【Thorne Corp Financial App’s Iris Recognition Fails; System Unlocks with Picture of a Dog’s Eye】 【Thorne Corp Users Report Accounts Drained Overnight】 【Source Claims Up to $50 Billion Stolen; Chairman Thorne Previously Promised 20x Compensation for Any Security Breach. Will Thorne Corp Honor its Promise?】 The news exploded. No one cared about my plagiarism scandal anymore; they were all frantically checking their bank accounts. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a sense of peace. I could finally sleep. But someone was determined to ruin it. My phone rang, and it was Nina, her voice shrill with panic. “Joey, what is going on? How could Jack’s code have a bug?” I kept my voice calm. “His code has a bug. What does that have to do with me?” There was a pause, and then I heard Nina’s voice on the other end, tight, seething with a rage I’d never heard before. “When did you find out?” I played dumb. “Find… find out what?”

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Chapter 1 After graduation, I was stopped outside the basketball court by Luke Hayes. “Maya Lin, you ghost. You’re the reason my sister is a living corpse. How dare you show your face for graduation photos?” “If I could have it my way, I’d never see you again for the rest of my life!” I watched Luke brush past me, silently clutching the medical report in my hand. The doctor said I have a tumor in my brain. College isn’t in the cards for me anymore. Luke probably will never know— His wish is about to come true. After this summer, he’ll never see me again. … The cicadas were singing loud, summer in full swing. Standing by the basketball court, I took out my phone and snapped a secret photo of Luke and me at graduation. The lighting was spotty. I opened my notes app and used voice-to-text. [June 12, 2025, 10:00 AM. Took a graduation photo with Luke. No smile today, just hate in his eyes.] I suddenly forgot why Luke hated me. Scrolling up to the last note, the fragmented past came rushing back. A month ago, I went to karaoke with Luke’s twin sister, Lily Hayes, to blow off steam after finals. On the way home, we ran into some thugs. She shielded me and got stabbed in the heart with a broken beer bottle. She’s been in a coma ever since. The doctor said only a heart transplant could save her. Otherwise, she’d remain a “living corpse” forever. Thinking of the hate in Luke’s eyes, I knew there was a permanent scar between us now. I turned off my phone, ready to leave, when a basketball came flying out of nowhere. Thud. It slammed into my back. I lost my balance and hit the concrete, scraping my knee raw. A group of guys from our class walked over, looking down at me. “Maya Lin, you put Luke’s sister in the hospital. How do you have the nerve to show up here?” “It’s bad enough you’re trash, but dragging Lily down with you? How does our school have someone as toxic as you?” “Get lost. Or we’ll beat you every time we see you.” … After they left, I wiped the gravel off my knees and elbows and stood up. Looking up, I saw him under the blazing sun. Luke Hayes, tall and tense, casting a shadow over me. “Maya, stop with the pitiful act. It’s annoying. Lily is the one who deserves pity!” I endured the pain, explaining to him again and again, just like always. “That day, Lily told me to go get security, that’s why I ran… I didn’t think something would happen in just a minute… If I could, I’d trade my life for hers.” “Great! Wake her up, and I’ll believe you!” Luke’s eyelashes fluttered, his cold voice dripping with sarcasm. “Lily needs a heart transplant to wake up. Someone as selfish as you, would you give her your heart?” He turned and walked away. Watching his back, I whispered, “Yeah. I would.” Two years ago, the doctor found a tumor in my brain. If we couldn’t control it, college was out. I took the meds, did the treatments, fought hard to live. But fate had other plans. The tumor is growing. My memory is fading every day. Since I can’t change the ending, let my heart beat somewhere else. I left school and went straight to the Red Cross. “Hi, I’d like to sign a designated organ donation agreement.” The staff looked at me. “Sorry, we don’t accept living donations.” I pulled a crumpled medical report from my backpack. “I have malignant glioma. My grandmother and mother both died from it. The doctor says I won’t make it past this summer.” “So I want my heart to keep beating and help my friend get better.” After reviewing my documents, the staff handed me a form. “You’ll need a guardian to sign a document after you fill this out.” I shook my head. “My parents are dead. And I’m eighteen. I can be my own guardian.” I signed my name solemnly on the voluntary donation agreement. And on the beneficiary line, I wrote “Lily Hayes.” Chapter 2 After I filled out the form, the staff pointed to a blank space at the bottom. “You need to fill in an emergency contact here.” I hesitated for a moment, then wrote down Luke’s name and number. Luke’s biggest wish is for Lily to recover. When he finds out later, he’ll be happy, right? Leaving the Red Cross, my phone alarm reminded me it was time for my shift at the bubble tea shop. Walking down the street, I passed an internet cafe and saw my brother, Sam, sitting on the steps smoking with some other boys. His young face had dark circles that didn’t belong on a teenager. My heart tightened. I rushed over. “Sam, it’s Tuesday. Why are you skipping class again? Are you dropping out?” Sam saw me and stubbed out the cigarette. “What’s the point of school? Gaming pays better.” I grabbed his arm. “SATs are next year. How are you getting into college like this? Come back to school with me!” Sam shook me off, annoyed. “You can work, why can’t I? Maya, stay out of my business. Get lost!” He shoved me and slammed the door shut. I stumbled, nearly falling off the steps. I watched through the glass as Sam put on his headset and sat back down at the computer. The manager wouldn’t let me in. I had to leave, looking back with every step. Walking along, I opened my notes app again. [3:00 PM. Found my brother skipping class on the way to work. Smoking, gaming… doing everything a high schooler shouldn’t do.] [Mom and Dad died early. My brother is addicted to the internet. If I die, what’s going to happen to him?] Finished recording, I realized I was at the bubble tea shop door, but felt confused. Why was I here? I checked my schedule. Right, my part-time job. Just as I was about to enter, the manager walked out. “Maya, this is the sixth time you’re late. You’re fired. Here’s this month’s pay.” He handed me five hundred bucks. My face went pale. “Manager, I’m sorry. Please give me another chance. I really need this job.” I had to save enough money for Sam’s tuition while I was still healthy. But the manager shook his head. “I’ve given you too many chances. Go home. You just finished finals, you should rest up for college.” Dejected, I turned to go home, only to see Luke walking towards me, pushing a black mountain bike. The boy was tall and lean, glowing in the sunlight. I instinctively called out, “Luke…” Seeing me, Luke frowned in disgust, parked his bike, and went into the shop. “One strawberry milk tea. Less ice, less sugar, add sago and mochi…” Hearing his order, I vaguely remembered. That was Lily’s favorite—the Strawberry Deluxe. Every Saturday, Luke would buy one for her and bring it to the hospital. And today was Saturday. The door opened, and Luke came out carrying the tea. I opened my mouth, asking hoarsely, “Luke, can I come with you to see Lily?” Luke paused pushing his bike. “What right does the culprit have to see her? You want to see Lily? Unless you die. Move!” He shoved me aside and rode off. Thinking of my condition, I silently followed him. I knew if I didn’t find a chance to see Lily now, I never would. Not long after, the sky darkened. Storm clouds gathered. I looked up as the pristine sky started to drizzle, catching me off guard. I didn’t have an umbrella. I trudged forward like a stray dog through the puddles. Waiting at the bus stop, Luke rode past on his bike, laden with milk tea and flowers. His tires hit a puddle, splash, soaking me with muddy water. A gust of wind blew. I felt cold from head to toe, right down to my bones. Chapter 3 It took forever on the bus to get to the hospital. Outside the ICU, I saw Lily lying there, tubes everywhere. Luke put the strawberry milk tea and flowers on the nightstand. With gentle eyes, he started reading a romance novel to her. Watching this, my eyes welled up. Lily loved novels. She used to hug me and say: “Maya, you can learn stuff from novels. It says twins have telepathy.” “See? My favorite person is you, and my brother’s favorite person is you too.” But Lily, Luke doesn’t like me anymore. Do you still like me? Through the glass window of the ward door, I traced Lily’s face in the air. “Lily, the three of us promised to go to the same college. But you missed the entrance exams to save me…” “But it’s okay. In a little while, I’ll give you my heart. Then you and your brother can go to the same college.” I secretly watched Lily for a long time. Only when Luke got up to leave did I flee the hospital. Back home, still soaking wet, I went straight to the shower. Hot water ran down my head, easing the cold, sticky feeling a bit. Lying in bed after my shower, I hugged the robotic dog on my nightstand, just like always. It was mottled with age, a gift from my mom before she passed. She said it was loyal and would keep me company in her place. I pressed the record button. “Today, I lost my job at the bubble tea shop. It was hard to find, but I blew it.” “I went to the hospital to see Lily. She’s thinner now, like Sleeping Beauty…” “Too bad Luke won’t let me in. Maybe the day Lily wakes up is the day he’ll finally talk to me properly.” But by then, I’ll be six feet under. I talked to the robot dog for a long time before falling into a heavy sleep. Maybe because of the rain, I slept poorly. The next day, my head was groggy when the phone rang urgently. “Maya Lin! Your brother Sam skipped class and got into a fight. Get to school now!” I woke up instantly and rushed to school. Principal’s office. I saw Luke. His face was bruised and battered, standing opposite Sam. My heart jumped. Sam hit Luke? Seeing me, the principal got straight to the point. “Maya, your brother is a junior. Skipping class is one thing, but assaulting an upperclassman?” “Luke and other students have signed a petition to expel Sam. Here are his expulsion papers.” Hearing this, I looked at Luke in panic. “Luke, I’m sorry! I’ll pay for your medical bills. Please forgive him. Don’t let him get expelled.” Since our parents died, my brother went from an honor student to a delinquent. I failed him. Before I go, I can’t let him lose his education. Sam interrupted me, looking defiant. “Luke said nasty things! He deserved it! I don’t need you apologizing for me!” Luke wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, expressionless. “In that case, no forgiveness.” He walked up to me and whispered so only I could hear. “My sister couldn’t take the exams. Your brother doesn’t deserve to either.” With that, he walked out. Sam grabbed his backpack and stormed out after him. I bowed to the principal and chased after him. “Sam! Stop!” But Sam ignored me. He walked to the dumpster and threw his backpack in. “Who told you to apologize? He ruined your reputation. He deserved it.” “Expel me, whatever. I didn’t want to go to school anyway. I’ll work and pay for your college tuition.” He lit a cigarette casually and handed me a bank card. “This is money from leveling accounts in games. I’m grown. I can take care of myself and you.” Looking at the pain patch on his wrist and the dark circles under his eyes, my heart ached. Suddenly, my nose felt warm. A drop of blood hit the bank card. Sam froze. “What’s wrong?” I wiped my nose, but the blood kept coming. Seeing Sam’s panicked face, I felt helpless. “Sam, I don’t have a future. If you quit school now, what happens later?” “When I see Mom and Dad on the other side, what am I supposed to tell them?!” I tilted my head back to stop the bleeding and saw Luke standing under a ginkgo tree across the way, staring at me. I didn’t know how long he’d been there. Chapter 4 My heart skipped a beat. I quickly looked away. When I finished cleaning up the blood and looked back, Luke had turned and walked into the ginkgo avenue without a second glance. Sam looked at me nervously. “What’s wrong with you? Is it heatstroke?” I shook my head, not knowing how to explain my illness. Sam got annoyed. He threw the cigarette on the ground, crushed it, and waved me off. “If you’re sick, go home and rest. I’m going back to work.” I wanted to call him back, but he rode off on his bike and disappeared. I sighed. “Sam, what are you going to do alone?” When I was ten, Mom died from the torture of glioma. Two years ago, Dad died in a car accident on his way to buy Sam a birthday cake. Now… I’m dying too. I fished Sam’s backpack out of the dumpster, carefully dusted it off, and went home. My stomach was empty, my head spinning. I realized I hadn’t eaten all day. I cooked a bowl of tangyuan (sweet rice balls) and brought it to the living room. Looking at my parents’ photos, I put one in my mouth. The sesame filling burst, but I couldn’t taste any sweetness. “Mom, you used to say the sweetness of tangyuan could cover life’s bitterness. But why can’t I taste any sweet at all?” “Sam doesn’t want to study. I’m dying. My life… seems like a total mess…” Tears fell into the bowl, one by one, creating ripples. Wind blew the curtains against my cheek, gentle like a mother’s touch. After eating, I broke into a sweat. My head felt a little better. After resting, I started looking for summer jobs again. I had to save more money for Sam’s future. I asked shop after shop along the main street, getting rejected every time. Finally, at 2 PM under the scorching sun, I found a flyer distribution gig downstairs. In the stifling summer heat, I wore a heavy bear suit, weaving through the crowd handing out flyers. The suit was airless. Within minutes, I was soaked in sweat. A group of kids ran over, jumping around me. “Look, a bear! I want to play with it!” The lead boy yanked my tail hard. I lost my balance, stumbled back, and fell on my butt, flyers scattering everywhere. The other kids swarmed, kicking my legs, punching me. The fattest kid sat right on my back, yelling: “Giddy up! Ride the stupid bear…” The weight was crushing. My head throbbed. Suddenly, a familiar voice rang out. “Hey! She’s not a toy!” The weight lifted instantly. The kids scattered. “You okay?” I sat up and took off the headgear, meeting a pair of amber eyes. “…Luke…” His face went cold instantly, seemingly surprised it was me inside the suit. “Maya, seriously? Doing this for sympathy again?” I blurted out, “No, it’s a summer job.” Luke’s mother walked up behind him and handed me a bottle of ice water. “Drink some water. Don’t get heatstroke.” I took it. “Thanks, Godmother.” She was silent for a moment. “You don’t need to call me that anymore. Just… take care of yourself.” My heart stung. I knew she was in more pain than I could imagine. Giving me water was already her greatest mercy. If only I hadn’t left that day. Or if I had let Lily leave first. “I’m sorry…” Besides those words, I didn’t know what else to say. Mrs. Hayes didn’t answer, eyes red. She walked toward the community gate with Luke. Just then, a black sedan pulled up. A person in business attire got out and handed a document to Mrs. Hayes. “Mrs. Hayes, the hospital found a matching heart. This is the donor’s information.” My breath hitched. Did they find out about my donation so soon?

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1 My husband called a strange number 21 times this week. I stormed into the bathroom, ready for a confrontation. He was standing there with a head full of shampoo, looking exasperated. “If you think I’m cheating, call the number yourself! Call whoever you want!” The door slammed shut. I was sure he was bluffing. But when I dialed, it connected almost instantly. A sweet female voice answered. “Thank you for calling The Orchid House. How can I help you?” The Orchid House was my favorite restaurant. Awkwardly, I hung up. Later, when I went there for dinner, I specifically mentioned it to the manager. “The girl who answers your phone is very professional. Here’s a tip for her.” The manager looked confused. “Ma’am, we don’t have a receptionist. Our calls are handled by an AI system now. It’s the trend.” I pretended I had misremembered and calmly finished my meal. That night, I checked my husband’s dashcam footage. Sure enough, I found the address of a property registered under my mother-in-law’s name. When I knocked on the door, a woman answered wearing nothing but a silk slip. … The woman in front of me looked five or six years younger than me, radiating that specific confidence of youth. She showed off her body shamelessly, not a hint of awkwardness on her face. Water droplets from her wet hair traced a path down her collarbone, disappearing into her neckline. She seemed surprised to see me, clearly expecting someone else. Then I heard that familiar, sweet voice. “You must be Mark’s wife? I’m his distant cousin, Sarah. I’m staying here while I study for grad school.” I stared at her coldly. Mark had really prepared everything, even the script. I wondered how many times they had rehearsed this. It was flawless. If not for that phone call, even finding this place wouldn’t have made me suspicious. Realizing this, my heart sank. “And you are?” I looked her up and down, unimpressed. “Oh right, I forgot to introduce myself.” “I’m Sarah Miller.” She extended a hand. I let out a scoff. “Awfully friendly, aren’t you?” I ignored her hand and walked past her into the apartment. As we brushed shoulders, I noticed a tattoo on her upper arm. SJ 7.17 My pupils contracted. A weird sixth sense kicked in. I knew she was silently marking her territory. I stared at the stylized font. She noticed my gaze, of course. She explained casually. “SJ stands for the band I was in during college. That’s the date we formed.” She pointed at the date. “I was young and impulsive. Thought it was the most important day of my life, so I got it inked.” Her tone was light, but she was watching me from the corner of her eye. I read the message in her gaze loud and clear. That date was her anniversary with Mark. Had they been together since college? Four years of marriage, and I hadn’t noticed a thing. My gaze turned icy as I scanned the room. It was lived-in. No TV in the living room, just a massive projector screen. A home theater setup. No sofa, just a Japanese-style tatami mat. Next to it was an expensive massage chair. I could almost see the countless passionate nights they had spent here. Just as I was about to head for the bedroom, the front door opened again. It was Mark. He got here fast. I stood in the doorway, a smirk playing on my lips, watching him run in, tie askew—so unlike his usual polished self. “What are you doing here?” He went on the offensive immediately. “Susan, are you investigating me?” His brow furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line. He was clearly unhappy. In the past, I would have dropped everything to soothe him. Now, I just pointed at the bedroom. “Care to explain?” He frowned, walking up to me. Conveniently blocking my view of Sarah. “What’s there to explain? She’s my cousin. My mom asked me to look out for her. Is that a crime?” I didn’t say anything. He let out a frustrated laugh. He pulled out his phone and called his mother right there. “Mom, Susan thinks I’m cheating. Can you explain Sarah to her? She won’t believe a word I say.” He shoved the phone into my hands while I stared in shock. “Susan, honey? Sarah is your distant aunt’s kid. I told Mark to look after her. He’s been so busy he probably forgot to mention it. I’m sorry, dear.” On the phone, my mother-in-law’s voice was warm and forgiving. Like she was indulging a paranoid child. “Susan, come over for dinner when you’re free, okay? I have a bridge game starting, gotta run.” After she hung up, the shock lingered. Mark looked at me smugly. “Believe me now? Stop making a scene. You’re embarrassing yourself in front of Sarah.” Sarah stood beside him with an understanding smile. “Mark, don’t be mean. It just shows how much Susan cares about you.” “Right, Susan?” I silently followed Mark downstairs. He turned to me. “I have a meeting. We’ll talk about this at home.” He acted like he was still angry about my ‘unreasonable’ behavior. His steps were heavy, but he left quickly. Watching his car drive away, I lowered my eyes. After a moment, I called my best friend. “I need you to run a background check on someone.” 2 Before dinner time, my friend sent over the file. Sarah graduated from a different university than Mark. Their lives had zero intersection. It looked like she really was just a distant cousin. I frowned deeply. After a moment, I texted my friend again. [Run a check on my mother-in-law. Last three years. Large transactions, spending records, bank statements, property transfers. Everything.] She replied instantly. [Are you crazy? You treat that woman like your own mother.] [Why investigate her?] of all people? I didn’t reply. The screen went dark, and I stared out the window. Maybe because I loved Mark, I loved his family too. He was from a single-parent home. I always respected how hard his mother worked to raise him. Since our wedding day, I treated her like my own flesh and blood. Whenever Mark and I fought, she always stood by my side. If even that was a lie… what was real? Thirty minutes later. My friend called. “Holy shit. That bastard is cheating. How did you know?” “Mark has been playing you for years? I sent everything. See for yourself.” I opened his mother’s bank statements. Starting three years ago. Mark transferred ten thousand dollars to one of her cards almost every month. But the spending wasn’t typical for an older woman. Designer clothes, jewelry, bags, collectibles. And daily expenses. The most frequent transactions were at a Japanese boutique. Almost a fixed weekly expense. I scrolled up to the account opening date. July 17th. I understood. That was the day they got together. Then I opened the second file. Transactions from his mother’s main card. The apartment they were using now. A massage chair worth thousands. A sports car imported from overseas. And all of these… Had clear gift deeds signed. I laughed, but my face felt frozen. What was Mark thinking when he prepared all this? Was he already planning his excuses in case I found out? What kind of heart does it take to do something like this? The last document was the final straw that broke me. An investment in a fashion brand, made in his mother’s name. Under “Shareholder and Founder,” it read: Sarah Miller. I don’t remember how I drove home. When I came to, I was in the underground garage. My phone buzzed with notifications. Speeding tickets. Red light violations. I buried my face in my hands, leaning on the steering wheel. I couldn’t calm down. My phone rang suddenly in the quiet space. It was jarring. I answered, exhausted. “Susan, where are you? Why am I getting speeding alerts? Are you okay?” Mark sounded urgent, worried. “I had to deliver a file. In a rush.” I made up an excuse. He sounded angry now. “Are you trying to get yourself killed? Pull over. I’m coming to get you.” I heard the rustle of clothes as he got dressed. “No need. I’m in the garage.” Silence. Mark let out a breath. “Come upstairs then.” When the elevator opened, I saw Mark in his loungewear, a jacket thrown over his shoulders. His eyes were full of concern. He nagged me about my driving skills, complaining that I shouldn’t be speeding. Looking at the man in front of me. He cared about my safety. While pouring his heart and soul into another woman. 3 That night, after Mark fell asleep. I contacted a new lawyer. I asked him to audit my assets and sent him the files I had. “Handle it all together.” I woke up to find Mark had made breakfast—a rare occurrence. “I’m meeting a client in Bayview today. It’s on your way, can you drop me off?” I looked at him quietly for a moment, then nodded. It wasn’t time to explode yet. I needed more evidence. On the way, my phone kept ringing. Before I could answer, Mark grabbed it and hung up. “You have a man on the side or something?” Hearing him project his guilt onto me, I sneered internally. In the end, he made a scene and didn’t let me answer. When I got to the office, my assistant was waiting in the lobby. Seeing me rush in, she hesitated before asking cautiously. “Boss, have you been in contact with a studio called SJ recently?” Hearing the name, my breath hitched. My throat felt dry. A bad feeling washed over me. “No. Why?” She handed me a tablet. Dozens of design sketches. My heart stopped. I looked at the familiar elements, anger rising in my chest. I walked quickly to my office. “Tell me everything.” It turned out this SJ Studio had released a batch of concept art and registered the copyrights. And the design elements were almost identical to my company’s upcoming flagship collection. The problem was, to keep the suspense, we hadn’t released our designs publicly. Production had already started. We had signed the celebrity endorsements. This meant if consumers thought we were copying SJ, the company would suffer massive losses. Even worse, we would offend our partners. Chills ran down my spine. The first person I thought of was Mark. I never imagined that to pave the way for Sarah, he would sacrifice the company I built with my own hands. Before I could come up with a plan, another assistant burst in. “Susan, the plagiarist is on TV!” I sat up straight and took the phone. Sarah Miller appeared on a popular finance show. She was dressed cleanly, simply, like the girl next door. Facing the host’s tricky questions, she was confident and calm. Very impressive. When asked why she named the studio SJ, she lifted her sleeve, revealing the tattoo. “To thank someone very important to me. I wanted his name not just in my heart, but on my body, in my life.” “He is everywhere.” The host looked envious. “That must be your lover? Can you tell us your story?” She shook her head shyly. “I promised him I wouldn’t mention him publicly without his permission.” Comments floated across the screen. [Can’t mention him? Why? Is he married?] [Holy crap, that might be it. If they’re so in love, why the secrecy?] [Maybe they just like privacy. Don’t be jealous.] The comments section turned into a war zone. I stared at the screen, lost in thought. The host asked another question. “So what inspired the ‘Fleeting Orchid’ series? Why that name?” Sarah froze for a second. The host continued. “Is it because you met him when the orchids were blooming? Does he like orchids?” Sarah clearly didn’t have an answer. She didn’t know why the host brought up orchids. But she thought fast. She winked at the camera with a mysterious smile. She said nothing. I stared at the screen and whispered the answer. “Beauty fades as the best times pass; the orchid season does not wait.” That was the poem that inspired my collection. I never thought it would become a prophecy for my marriage. 4 After the interview, Sarah became famous. After all, she was riding on the six months of hard work from my entire design team. She ignited the fashion industry. SJ Studio went from unknown to flooded with collaboration offers in a month. Meanwhile, four of my senior designers resigned. My company was in a slump. In just one month, the media hailed Sarah as a genius designer. Mark, on the other hand, was having “issues.” First, an investment failed, and he urgently needed to fill the hole. He asked to transfer three hundred thousand from our joint account. I looked at him impassively. And nodded. Soon after, my lawyer sent me the evidence. Watching the money trail, I continued to bait the hook. After that, his courage seemed to grow. Using a subsidiary we co-owned, he launched a “charity project.” He approved a five hundred thousand dollar R&D loan for Sarah. The paperwork looked legit—reviews, signatures, everything. Outsiders wouldn’t spot a flaw. I smiled at the documents in my hand. This money would allow Sarah to officially turn her studio into a company. Sure enough, SJ Corp was founded. They started hiring aggressively. Office supplies, computers—they bought the best. Meanwhile, I was in crisis. Employees resigned from my company today and received offers from SJ tomorrow. With double the salary. It seemed Sarah wanted to destroy me. Mark, who hadn’t been home in a week, suddenly appeared. “Susan, I have to go out of town. Something came up at the branch office.” I smirked internally. “How much do you need?” Mark waved his hands. “I heard things aren’t going well for you. Are you… holding up okay?” His undisguised probing hardened my heart further. Mark, let’s see who laughs last in this game. I put on a weary face. Acting like my usual self, I said: “It’s okay. Don’t worry about me. Take what you need. I’m not broke yet.” That sentence dispelled his doubts completely. He kissed my cheek. “Wife, I knew you were the most gentle and understanding woman in the world.” That night, I claimed I had work in the study, but really I scrubbed my face twenty times in the guest bathroom. The next day, Mark left with his luggage. Looking solemn, like he was off to solve a crisis. Instead, he parked at the airport and took a cab back to the city. Soon after, my friend texted me. [Holy shit. Saw your husband at a hotel. That super expensive love hotel!] [So gross!] [When are you going to make your move?] I replied: [Hold on.] Two days later, I got the alert. Mark injected one million dollars into SJ. Ha. A total of one point seven million dollars. He built Sarah a production line complete with logistics. Mark really was generous. Maybe success had gone to his head, or he thought his plan was flawless. He didn’t even bother hiding the money trail this time. And this was exactly the moment I had been waiting for. I met my lawyer in a private tea house. My mother-in-law’s bank statements and gift records. Copies of the doctored documents. The chat logs they thought were deleted forever. Everything was laid out on the table. The lawyer looked serious. “This proves not only malicious transfer of marital assets but also embezzlement.” I nodded calmly, packing up the evidence. Waiting for them to climb to their highest peak. On the day of the grand opening. Sarah was surrounded by admirers. Compliments flew left and right. “Ms. Miller is so young and talented!” “SJ Studio is definitely the next big thing!” “Mr. York has an amazing eye for investment!” Mark stood nearby, looking proud, as if her glory was his own. They were the stars of the show. This was the glory Mark bought with my designs and our money. The emcee’s voice boomed, hyping up the ribbon-cutting ceremony. “Ladies and gentlemen, the moment we’ve all been waiting for! Please welcome the founder of SJ Studio, Ms. Sarah Miller—” “And her investor, Mr. Mark York, to the stage!” Thunderous applause almost lifted the roof. That was when I pushed open the doors.

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With the wedding approaching, a company-wide Slack announcement offered every employee a $10,000 bonus and a week-long trip to Hawaii—sparking rumors that CEO Sophia Sterling would marry Director Vance there. Leo Cole, Sophia’s new assistant, hesitantly messaged, “I’ve only been here three months—should I really get the bonus?” Sophia replied, “Everyone who contributes gets rewarded.” Soon after, HR told me the Director role I’d been promised was given to someone else. Confused, I went to Sophia’s office and overheard her confess to a friend: the bonus was a discreet way to cover Leo’s mother’s surgery, and she’d previously missed my mother’s funeral to care for him after he broke his leg—all while lying to me, her fiancé. “If Ethan hears, he’ll throw a fit,” she laughed. I stepped away and called my father: “I’m calling off the engagement.” If she wanted to be someone else’s savior, I’d set her free. 1 My father’s voice shot up an octave on the other end of the line. “What did you just say?” “Son, since you were a boy, you’ve only ever had eyes for that Sterling girl.” “You gave up your place at our company, started as a grunt at Sterling Corp, all for her.” “You’re about to get married, and now you want to call it all off?” “What in God’s name happened?” My knuckles turned white as I gripped the phone, but my voice was steady. “Dad.” “Do you remember that goldfish I had as a kid?” “Every day, I changed its water, fed it, took perfect care of it. But all it ever wanted to do was jump out of the bowl.” “Then one day, it finally did.” I paused. “By the time I found it on the floor, it was already dried to a husk…” Silence stretched over the line. When my father spoke again, his voice was raw. “Are you… are you sure about this?” “Yeah. I’m sure.” After hanging up, I opened my laptop and emailed my resignation to HR. The moment I walked into the office the next morning, the receptionist told me I was needed in the main conference room. I pushed open the heavy doors, and two dozen pairs of eyes snapped to me. Sophia sat at the head of the table in a sharp white pantsuit, her long hair pulled back, revealing the elegant curve of her neck. Her gaze met mine, flickered for a fraction of a second, then hardened back into its usual calm composure. “Now that everyone’s here, let’s begin.” Her voice was as cool and crisp as ever. I took my seat. Directly across from me was Leo. He looked particularly sharp today, his hair perfectly combed. A pair of antique gold cufflinks peeked out from his crisp, light-blue shirt. I recognized them immediately. The ones I’d hunted down in a dusty little shop in Paris two years ago for Sophia’s birthday. “There is only one item on today’s agenda,” Sophia announced, her eyes sweeping across the room. “The appointment of the new Director of Marketing.” My fingers tapped a restless rhythm on the polished wood. That title should have been mine. From the day I walked away from my family’s empire five years ago to start at the bottom of Sterling Corp, I had climbed the ladder to Associate Director. Everyone in this room, including me, thought my promotion was a done deal. “After careful consideration, I have decided to appoint Leo Cole as the new Director of Marketing, effective next month.” A few seconds of dead silence, then the room erupted. Mr. Davies, the grizzled head of finance, was the first to slam his hand on the table. “Sophia, this is completely against protocol!” “The kid’s been here less than three months! He’s not even out of his probationary period!” Kate from Operations stood up to back him. “He’s right. Based on seniority, performance, and contribution, Ethan is the only logical choice!” I sat there quietly, my eyes locked on Sophia. Her expression didn’t waver. She simply raised a hand, silencing the room. “While Leo’s tenure has been short, the new market strategy he proposed has already been unanimously approved by the board.” Her voice was soft, but it carried an authority that tolerated no argument. “I am confident he can lead the marketing department to new heights.” “This decision is final.” Leo kept his head down, the very picture of humility. But I saw the faint, triumphant smirk playing on his lips. When his gaze finally met mine, a flicker of smug satisfaction flashed in his eyes. “If there are no other questions, this meeting is adjourned.” Sophia closed her file. I pushed my chair back, the screeching sound tearing through the quiet room. Every head turned in my direction. Sophia’s brow furrowed. “Ethan, do you have something to say?” 2 “No.” My face was a blank mask. I turned and walked toward the door. “Director Vance!” Leo shot up from his seat and hurried after me. “Please, wait!” He put a hand out to block my path. “I’m just a guy from a small town. I don’t have the experience or the insight for a role like this.” “The Director position… I honestly don’t feel I’ve earned it.” “I really think you’re the better fit…” His voice trailed off, perfectly calibrated to sound like a nervous rookie intimidated by a veteran. But as he pretended to straighten his tie, my eyes caught the glint of the watch on his wrist. A Patek Philippe. The one Sophia had given me for my twentieth birthday. The one I treasured so much I kept it locked away in a safe. The sight of it made my blood run cold. “Leo, don’t be like that,” Sophia said, walking over. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “This was a company decision. You don’t need to step aside for anyone.” She turned to me, her eyes laced with disapproval. “Ethan, don’t be so petty.” Her words twisted in my gut like a knife. For years, I had put my own legacy on hold to build hers. I brought her dinner during late nights at the office, sat by her bedside when she was sick. I worked myself to the bone, driving Sterling Corp’s revenue through the roof, doubling its market value. And now, in front of the entire executive team, she was calling me petty? I nearly bit through my lip. “Sophia,” I said, my voice dangerously low. “I quit.” For the first time, a flicker of panic crossed her face. “Ethan, what are you talking about?” “I said, I’m done.” “Now get out of my way.” I shoved past Leo, sending him stumbling back. He immediately put on a wounded expression. “Director Vance, please, don’t be angry.” “This is all my fault. I apologize…” he whimpered, his eyes darting toward Sophia. Sophia rushed to his side, steadying him before whirling on me, her eyes blazing. “Ethan! That’s enough!” “Leo was trying to be gracious. What gives you the right to push him?” I let out a cold, humorless laugh and turned to leave. The sharp click of heels echoed behind me. Sophia caught up, her fingers digging into my arm. “What is this attitude, Ethan?” Her voice was glacial. “The meeting isn’t over, you haven’t apologized to Leo, and you’re just walking out?” I stopped, turning to face her. Her beauty was as sharp and fierce as ever—lips like fire, eyes that could cut glass. But the warmth I once saw in them was gone, replaced by an arrogant, dismissive glare. “I’ve already resigned, Sophia,” I replied calmly. “This meeting has nothing to do with me.” “And as for Leo, I will never apologize to him.” Her brow tightened, but she quickly regained her composure, that familiar look of being in total control settling back onto her face. “I haven’t accepted your resignation, which means you’re still an employee of this company.” Her tone softened slightly. “We can forget the apology for now. Just come back to the meeting.” A wry smile touched my lips. “Since when do you care about protocol, Sophia?” “Leo didn’t even finish his probation period, and you made him a director.” Her eyes faltered for a second. “Company decisions are not for you to question.” “You’re right, they’re not,” I nodded. “Which is why I’m opting out.” “Out of sight, out of mind.” I moved to walk around her, but she was clearly not expecting such a clean break. She stood frozen for a moment before rushing after me again. “Ethan!” “What are you so upset about? Is this really all because you didn’t get the director job?” I looked at her, and a bitter laugh almost escaped my lips. She still thought this was about a damn job title. “Sophia,” I said, my voice even. “In all the years we’ve known each other, when have you ever seen me throw a fit over work?” She was momentarily speechless, but her pride kicked in and she lifted her chin. “Then what are you so angry about?” I held her gaze. “You know damn well what this is about.” A flicker of something—guilt?—crossed her eyes before she masked it. “I… I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I decided to cut to the chase. “The cufflinks. The watch. Where did he get them?” Sophia blinked, then answered with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I gave the cufflinks to Leo as a reward for his hard work.” “As for the watch, you never wear it anyway. What’s the big deal if he has it?” 3 I almost choked on a laugh. So the things I held so dear were meaningless to her. She nonchalantly tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, a smirk on her perfect red lips. “Ethan, when did you become so possessive?” “They’re just things. If you want new ones, I’ll buy them for you.” She glanced back toward the conference room, her tone airy. “Leo has been working around the clock on the new project. He deserved a little recognition.” “Recognition?” A block of ice formed in my chest. Ever since Leo had started at the company, our arguments had become more frequent. Every single one was about him, and every single time, I was the one who backed down. Not this time. “Sophia, for your birthday that year, I scoured every antique shop in Paris to find that 19th-century pair of cufflinks.” “You told me you loved the story behind them, that it was the most thoughtful gift you’d ever received.” I gestured to the bracelet on her wrist. “Just like this Tiffany bracelet I won for you at auction five years ago.” Her fingers instinctively went to the bracelet. Her gaze shifted for a moment before she put her mask of cool superiority back on. “Ethan, be mature about this.” “It’s perfectly normal to reward a high-performing employee. You’ve given gifts to your subordinates before.” I was done talking. We parted in anger. After smoking half a pack of cigarettes, I went back to my office to pack my things. I found my personal belongings scattered across the floor. But the thing that made my vision go red was the framed photo of my mother. The glass was shattered, and right across her smiling face was the muddy print of a man’s shoe. “Oh, Mr. Vance, I’m so sorry.” Leo came jogging over, his face a mask of fake concern. “Sophia said this office needed to be cleared out for the new director, so I had the cleaning crew start on it.” I turned slowly, a roar filling my ears, my blood pounding. “Who did this?” I pointed at the footprint on the photo, my voice a low growl. Leo’s eyes darted around nervously. “It… it must have been the cleaners… maybe they dropped it by accident…” “Bullshit!” My vision tunneled. I kicked over a nearby metal trash can, and it slammed against the wall with a deafening crash. Leo flinched, his eyes instantly welling up with tears, looking like a frightened rabbit. “What’s going on?” Sophia rushed over. Leo immediately darted behind her for cover. “Sophia, Director Vance is mad that I had his office cleared out.” Sophia glanced at the mess on the floor without a flicker of concern. “It’s just an office swap, Ethan. Why are you making such a scene?” She didn’t even look at the desecrated photograph. “If you want to stay, just have them move your things back in.” I snatched the photo off the floor, not even feeling the shards of glass digging into my palm. “Sophia, look closer! This is a memorial photo of my mother!” Her gaze finally dropped to the picture. Her lips parted, but before she could speak, Leo cut in. “Sophia, I swear I didn’t know! The cleaning staff must have been so careless. But ultimately, it’s my fault.” His tears started to fall on cue, streaming down his cheeks. “Maybe… maybe I should go and pay my respects to his mother, to atone for this…” “Shut your mouth!” I roared. Leo cowered, pressing himself into Sophia’s side. She immediately turned on me, her eyes furious. “Ethan! Have you lost your mind?” “Leo already apologized! What more do you want?” “He’s not the one who stepped on the photo!” Leo, ever the actor, let his tears fall faster. “Mr. Vance, I know you despise me, but I truly didn’t mean for this to happen…” Seeing the raw murder in my eyes, Sophia stepped in front of Leo, shielding him. “Ethan, if you have a problem, you take it up with me. Don’t you dare touch him!” Before I could even respond, Leo dropped to his knees without warning. His eyes were red, his voice choked with emotion. “Mr. Vance, it’s all my fault!” With trembling hands, he took off the cufflinks and the watch, holding them out to me. “I know you’re angry because Sophia gave me these gifts.” “A poor kid like me… I don’t deserve to wear things like this.” “And I should have never caused a misunderstanding between you and Sophia.” I snatched the cufflinks and the watch from his hands. And right in front of him, I threw them into the trash can I’d just kicked over. Leo’s shoulders shook violently. A fresh wave of tears streamed down his face as if he’d been grievously wounded. “Ethan! You’ve gone too far!” 4 Sophia rushed forward, pulling Leo to his feet, her expression full of pity. She gently wiped the tears from his face, her voice softer than I’d ever heard it. “Leo, stop it. You did nothing wrong.” When she looked back at me, her eyes were like shards of ice. “Do you really have to humiliate him like this, Ethan?” Leo seized the moment, grabbing her sleeve, his voice thick with tears. “Sophia, maybe… maybe I should just resign…” “I don’t want Mr. Vance to be unhappy, and I don’t want to be a source of conflict in the company.” He spoke with such sincerity, but the corner of his mouth twitched into a nearly invisible smirk. As predicted, his words made Sophia’s heart ache for him even more. She squeezed his hand, her voice firm. “Absolutely not! You earned that position with your talent. Why on earth would you resign?” “Ethan, look what you’ve done to him,” she said, her voice dripping with disappointment. “Even now, all he can think about is you.” “And what about you? What can you do besides bully and intimidate?” I watched the whole pathetic performance, a cold numbness spreading through me. Leo’s acting was flawless. Every tear was perfectly timed, every word expertly crafted to pull on Sophia’s heartstrings. “Sophia.” My voice came out as a raw whisper. “Can you really not see that he’s playing you?” “Playing me?” Sophia scoffed as if I’d told a terrible joke. “Ethan, when did you become so cynical?” “Leo is kind, genuine, and hardworking. He’s nothing like you.” “You’re manipulative and small-minded!” Leo dutifully lowered his head, his shoulders trembling as if he were enduring some great injustice. He sobbed quietly, “Sophia, please, don’t fight with Mr. Vance because of me.” “It’s all my fault. I never should have accepted your gifts in the first place.” “A poor kid like me has no right to wear a watch and cufflinks worth a fortune.” Sophia patted his back, her voice a soothing murmur. “Don’t say that. You deserve the very best.” She looked up at me, her eyes filled with nothing but disgust. “I never thought you could become this person, Ethan.” “Leo works himself to the bone for this company, and you throw a fit over a few trinkets and then humiliate him over and over again!” I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. “Think whatever you want.” I turned and walked toward the door, my steps firm. “Ethan!” Sophia called out behind me. “You’re just leaving? Without a single word of apology?” I paused and looked back at her one last time. My gaze slid from her to Leo’s deceitful, tear-streaked face. “Sophia, we’re done.” She froze. Leo’s eyes immediately reddened again, his voice cracking. “Mr. Vance, please don’t say that… Sophia cares about you so much…” Sophia grabbed his hand, her voice steely. “Leo, that’s enough.” “If he’s going to be this ungrateful, then we’re not going to beg him to stay.” After hearing that, I left without looking back.

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My breakup with my ex-boyfriend was ugly. The year he loved me the most, I took three million dollars from his mother, aborted our child, and betrayed him. He knelt outside the operating room, crying and begging me not to be so cruel. He said he would hate me forever. Six years later, we met again. He had found a beautiful girlfriend from a prestigious family and was about to get married. And I, at my lowest point, went to him to borrow some money. He forced me to attend his wedding, wanting me to watch him marry another woman. He asked me, “Do you regret it?” He didn’t know that I had raised our child alone. And that child was sick and dying. 1. Six years after the breakup, I reunited with Julian in the most humiliating way possible. It was a class reunion. No one expected Julian to show up. Someone joked, “Boss Julian never keeps in touch. Why did he suddenly decide to come this year?” “Did you hear Chloe was coming and still have feelings for her?” I sat in the corner, my back stiffening. I looked up to see Julian with a cigarette in his mouth, staring at me coldly. Everyone knew how much Julian loved me back then. He was the young master of a wealthy family, but he fell in love with me at first sight. That year, he cut ties with his family for me. He gave up power and money, fighting desperately to be with me. We lived in a tiny rental apartment, sharing a single cup of instant noodles or a bowl of porridge. It was hard, but we were happy. Every intimate night, we interlaced our fingers and swore to be together forever. Until later, when I got pregnant. His mother gave me three million dollars to abort the child and leave him. That day, Julian knelt outside the operating room, pounding on the door. He cried and begged me over and over: “Baby, please! I’ll work hard, I’ll make money, I’ll support the family. I’ll earn many, many three millions for you to spend, okay?” “Please, don’t leave me, don’t give up on our child…” I lay on the operating table, biting my lip hard to keep from crying out. Through a thin door, I listened as Julian said he would hate me for the rest of his life. 2. No one knew just how ugly our breakup was. People were pushing me towards Julian, laughing and asking him, “Boss Julian used to love Chloe more than his own life. How could he bear to let her go?” Everyone was egging us on, talking about getting back together. Julian’s friend glanced at me with a sneer and suddenly said, “What kind of woman can’t Boss Julian get? Who does Chloe think she is to make my bro pine for her?” He said there was a woman who had been with Julian for three years. That woman was gentler and prettier than me, more suited to be Julian’s girlfriend. Julian had been with her for three years, and his friends all called her “sister-in-law.” Rumor had it they were getting married soon. The laughter stopped, except for Julian’s friend, who was still smiling and inviting everyone to Julian’s wedding. He threw the invitation at me. It hit my face and fell into my lap. I looked down and saw Julian’s name on it. Next to his was another girl’s name. Her name was Sophia. It sounded like the name of a good girl. I thought she must be more sensible and obedient than me, better at caring for people, and wouldn’t make Julian sad all the time. Six years apart, meeting again after a long time… knowing Julian is doing well is enough. I held back the tears that were threatening to fall, looked up, and said to Julian: “Congratulations.” Julian stared straight at me. Hearing me say congratulations, he suddenly laughed, crushed his cigarette, and said coldly, “Chloe, don’t come to the wedding.” “My wife won’t be happy to see you. If she’s unhappy, my heart will ache.” I clutched the thin red invitation and paused. I nodded with a smile and whispered, “Okay.” 3. That day, everyone said it seemed Julian really didn’t love me anymore. No one expected that we had once loved so deeply. In the end, he was getting married, and the bride wasn’t me. Everyone thought Julian would wait for me forever. Everyone was curious about who this Sophia was, to make Julian so captivated and doting. I knew Julian didn’t want to see me again, so I left the reunion early. On the way home, a friend sent me a photo of Sophia. Sophia looked very pure in the photo. I heard she loved to smile and act cute, exactly the type of girl Julian liked. My friend asked me, “Chloe, don’t you think Sophia looks like you when she smiles?” “Do you think Julian still loves you? Is it really over between you two?” I exhaled gently, remained silent for a long time, and then smiled, “It doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t care.” I didn’t want to be entangled with Julian anymore. I thought he would never know that I secretly gave birth to our child, hiding it from everyone. That child was sick and dying. 4. This year was the poorest and hardest of my life. I worked desperately to make money, wanting my child to have the best medicine so he wouldn’t be in so much pain when he was sick. For money, I could thicken my skin and go to a class reunion to borrow from people, or work as a hostess in a club, drinking until my stomach bled. I thought that would probably be the last time Julian and I ever saw each other. Until a few days later, the girl named Sophia found me. Sophia had probably heard from others that she looked like me and wanted to meet me. She came to the club with a few friends and asked for me by name. One girl asked me, “You’re Chloe? Julian’s first love?” Her eyes were full of contempt, looking at my heavy makeup as if to say I was dirty. I clenched my fists, suppressing my temper to avoid trouble, and just asked if they wanted drinks. If not, don’t stop me from making money. The girl probably felt I wasn’t giving her face and shouted at me, “What’s with that attitude? I asked you a question, are you deaf? Don’t be ungrateful.” She pointed to a bottle of hard liquor and said, “Fine, Chloe, you like money, right? Drink this whole bottle in one go, and I’ll give you twenty thousand dollars.” Drinking that bottle would probably land me in the hospital. Sophia pretended to be anxious and advised the girl, “Didn’t we agree just to take a look and not make things difficult for Chloe?” “Although people say she’s good at seducing men and told me to be careful of her, and even Julian said I was too naive and afraid she would bully me.” “But I’m fine.” I listened quietly to Sophia’s words and understood. She was telling me how much Julian liked her and how much he hated me. I smiled and didn’t speak, just asked her friend, “It’s a deal, right? I drink the bottle, and you give me twenty thousand.” Then I picked up the bottle and started chugging. Everyone was stunned, not expecting me to really risk my life for money. Sophia pulled my hand and gently persuaded me, “Chloe, how can you ruin yourself like this for money?” “We women should know shame. I didn’t want to say it for fear of hurting you, but you know, Julian hates women like you the most…” I finished the bottle, endured the severe pain in my stomach, interrupted her, and asked, “Where’s the money?” “What Julian likes or hates is none of my business. I just want the twenty thousand you promised.” Sophia frowned, looking at me with disappointment, and said softly, “Chloe, to be honest, that twenty thousand is just pocket change to me. I could give it to anyone, but I can’t give it to you.” “You can blame me, but I’m doing this for your own good. I can’t watch you continue to degrade yourself…” Her friend pushed me and laughed, “I was just playing with you. I’m not giving you the money. What are you gonna do about it?” I laughed coldly along with her, then raised my hand and smashed the bottle. The flying glass shards cut Sophia’s leg, drawing blood. Sophia’s tears fell instantly. The women who were noisy just moments ago fell silent. The next second, the door to the private room opened, and Julian stood there, staring at me coldly. I froze, afraid to look into his eyes. Julian saw me wearing heavy makeup, drinking with men for money, and trying to please them. Actually, I wasn’t afraid of people looking down on me, I just didn’t want Julian to know I was living so miserably. But in the end, even that small wish didn’t come true. I could only try my best to pretend I didn’t care, forcing myself to look up and watch Julian pull Sophia into his arms and gently wipe away her tears. Then he asked me word by word, “Chloe, who are you bullying in front of me?” “You want money? Fine. Apologize first.” I watched Julian protect Sophia and remembered how he used to protect me a long time ago. I knew Julian wanted me to make Sophia happy. It didn’t matter. For money, I would do anything. Sophia hid in Julian’s arms, smiling secretly at me. I looked at the wound on her leg, picked up a piece of broken glass, and slashed myself hard. Then I held out my bloody hand and said calmly to Julian, “Give it to me. Twenty thousand.” Julian looked at me, and his eyes suddenly turned red. Sophia saw Julian’s expression, and the smile on her face froze. She took out a bank card, put it in my hand, and said softly, “Chloe, I’m giving you money today not because I owe you, but because I don’t want things to get ugly over a little money like you did.” I couldn’t be bothered to watch her act high and mighty anymore. I took the money and turned to leave, but Julian grabbed me. He called my name and cursed through gritted teeth, “Chloe, doesn’t it f***ing hurt? Will you die without money?” His tightly furrowed brow made it seem like he was hurting for me. I shook off his hand forcefully, turned back, and sneered, “I’ve always been a woman who loves money, Julian. Didn’t you know?” “Mind your own business, and mind your woman. Don’t mess with me again.”

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The day the real heiress came back, I got the boot. My foster parents insisted I needed to taste the bitterness their biological daughter had suffered for twenty years. Ha, you call this bitterness? For a corporate drone like me, this isn’t a tragedy; it’s just a lifestyle recession. Turning a losing hand into a winning one? That’s my specialty. 1. Midnight. New York City. Pouring rain. I stood outside the Sterling family villa. Aside from the designer clothes on my back, the only thing I had left was my phone, which was practically glued to my hand anyway. The real heiress had been home for less than two hours, and I was already on the pavement. Lydia Sterling said she’d eaten dirt for twenty-two years, so I should taste what it’s like to be destitute. The heavy iron gates slammed shut. The cold rain slapped my face indiscriminately. 2. As a blue-collar soul who transmigrated into the body of a “cannon fodder” fake heiress, I enjoyed the rich girl life for less than twenty-four hours before returning to poverty. I walked around the perimeter of the villa and found a dry spot under the first-floor terrace. Directly above was my “brother,” Lucas’s room. “Don’t worry. She’s broke. Once she tastes a little hardship, she’ll realize the benefits of wealth and come crawling back to climb into your bed.” Lydia’s voice echoed down the drainpipe. Tsk. For a multi-million dollar mansion, the soundproofing was garbage. I knew it. Lucas had been handsy with me all afternoon—giving off major Flowers in the Attic vibes—but tonight he was silent. So he was planning to keep me as a sugar baby. He calculated wrong. To Lucas, having only one penthouse condo to his name is “poverty.” But for a grinder like me? A digital wallet with two hundred bucks is enough to survive for two weeks. Besides, my balance still held the remaining $12,000 from this month’s allowance. To the Sterlings, that’s popsicle money. To normal people? If you pinch pennies, that’s a few years of living expenses. They thought they were crushing me into the dust. To me? This was just consumption downgrading. 3. Twenty minutes later, my Uber arrived. The driver got out, opened the umbrella, and opened the door for me. I felt like a princess again—totally worth the 20% surge pricing. I don’t know what’s wrong with heroines in TV dramas. They get kicked out and insist on walking in the rain until they get pneumonia, just to max out the angst. I don’t have money for American healthcare. Life is hard enough; I’m not going to suffer for the aesthetic. 4. The driver dropped me at a Motel 6. Sixty bucks a night. I took a hot shower and sent my couture clothes to the front desk for dry cleaning. Before bed, I downed two packets of Emergen-C I ordered via DoorDash. When you’re out on the streets, you have to take care of yourself. For us poor folks, health is our only asset. If no one loves you, you love yourself. 5. I woke up feeling refreshed. Wearing my freshly dry-cleaned clothes, I headed to a wholesale market in Queens. I squeezed into a crowded stall, haggled like a demon, and spent twenty bucks on four t-shirts, three pairs of shorts, and a pair of canvas sneakers. As I left, the stall owner packed my bag while complaining. “Lady, you’re dressed so fancy, but you bargain like a shark. I’m giving you cost price, plus this nice bag.” Absolutely. Without a nice shopping bag, how was I going to sell my Louis Vuitton outfit for a good price? It’s a pity about the lambskin heels; they’re ruined. Rich people burn money—you wear those shoes once, the soles get scuffed, and the resale value tanks. However, my phone case, encrusted with Swarovski crystals, was worth something. An $800 phone with a $4,000 case. If I hadn’t checked the purchase history, I wouldn’t have dared to dream that people spent money like this. The original owner of this body was so distraught she went to work at a dive bar? That’s pure brain rot. 6. I spun around the city like a top all morning and finally liquidated every luxury item on my body. Now, nothing I wore cost more than $5.99. A full Temu aesthetic. Comfortable. This was a wardrobe that matched my spending habits. I walked with the wind at my back, carrying a balance of $9,500. I’m rich! I needed to treat myself. I found a hole-in-the-wall diner and ordered a greasy burger. The patty was thin, the cheese was processed, the pickles were crisp, and it smelled like heaven. Best of all, it was cheap. I hadn’t eaten a real meal since last night. I inhaled it. I picked the last crispy fry from the basket and let out a loud burp. Before I sold the clothes, I didn’t dare eat—couldn’t risk a stain dropping the resale value. Wearing gold and silver made me nervous. Living on a budget made me free. “You can’t feed fine grain to a wild hog,” as the saying goes. That’s me. 7. That afternoon, I used my ID to get a new SIM card and swapped the $800 phone for a $200 Motorola. Familiar operating system. Ah, the smell of value. I could drop it on the floor and not even flinch! I scrolled through my old chat history. Aside from cold ridicule and hot sarcasm, there were “sugar baby” offers from Lucas’s rich frat boy friends. Screw them. Money rotted their brains. The original girl had terrible social skills; she didn’t have a single ride-or-die friend to borrow money from. The most annoying text was a “Lord of the Manor” speech from Lucas asking if I “knew my place” yet. What? It’s a society of laws. Did he want to hang me from the city walls? I replied “F*** off” and blocked him. Know my place? Kiss my ass. 8. After liquidating everything, I carried a large black trash bag and checked out of the motel. It contained my entire net worth: my cheap clothes, plus the disposable toothbrush and slippers from the motel. Hotels in the city were too expensive. I planned to move to the outskirts. I hadn’t left the city yet because, as a college senior, I still needed to pick up my diploma. Before I transmigrated, my parents pulled me out of school after 8th grade to work in a factory. I was a fugitive from the compulsory education system. The thought of becoming a certified, college-educated corporate slave was actually kind of thrilling. Novels these days have no logic. Why would a girl with working limbs and a bachelor’s degree go work at the specific bar where the male lead hangs out? Just waiting for someone to throw a drink in her face? 9. I went back to school the day after graduation. I avoided the ceremony on purpose. I didn’t need to see Lydia leading a pack of mean girls to humiliate me. I wasn’t going to let that plot point happen. Graduation photos are just a ritual. The Principal moving the tassel on my cap won’t help me earn an extra dime. Why humiliate myself for classmates I’ll never see again? My academic advisor looked at me with concern. “Lexi, if you need anything, let me know.” “Nothing, I’m good. Thanks,” I said. Aside from the lunatic Sterling family, the rest of the world was pretty normal. I was fine. Compared to the heiress meant to inherit an empire, sure, I fell from heaven to earth. But compared to 90% of fresh grads with no allowance and no job, I had cash in my pocket. “Save the help for someone who needs it more. I got this!”

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A single bottle of hair mask. That’s all it took for one of my student’s parents to lose her mind. “Are you trying to marry into money, Ms. Lister?” I stared at her message, completely baffled. Her tone dripped with contempt. “My husband just posted photos of his new car last night, and what a coincidence, I run into you buying a fancy hair mask at the store today.” “But let me tell you, the gap between us isn’t something you can close with a single bottle of conditioner.” “If you don’t cut all that hair off, I’m reporting you to the Board of Education. I’ll tell them you’re seducing my husband and get you fired.” I read the message, took a screenshot of the entire conversation, and immediately posted it in the parent-teacher group chat, tagging everyone. “Just a PSA for everyone: Be careful buying hair masks. People might accuse you of being a gold digger.” 1 Leo Carr was the wealthiest kid in my kindergarten class. His mother, Sandra, dropped him off and picked him up every day in a different luxury car. His backpack was a new designer model every week. The amusement park that other kids only got to visit for their birthdays was a weekly weekend trip for their family. But perhaps all that money had made his mother incredibly particular. In less than a month since school started, she had summoned me for meetings multiple times. The first time, she complained that the school’s stainless-steel lunch trays weren’t “refined” enough and demanded we switch to ceramic. I explained, “We use stainless steel because the children are still very young, and it prevents injuries from broken plates.” “If you’d prefer, you’re welcome to pack Leo’s lunch in a separate container from home.” Sandra was instantly displeased. “As a school, providing for the children’s daily needs is your responsibility. Why should the parents have to spend extra money?” She made a scene, but in the end, the school didn’t give in. The second time, she complained that the single air conditioning unit in the classroom wasn’t enough and demanded we install more. I politely refused. “The school’s budget is limited. If we only upgrade this classroom, it will cause complaints from other parents. However, if you would be willing to fund the purchase yourself, we can certainly arrange for installation.” Sandra went silent. The third time, she complained that the toilets were old-fashioned and demanded they all be replaced with modern, automatic-flush models. I had grown accustomed to her unreasonable demands. “That can be arranged,” I said calmly, “but you would need to cover the costs yourself.” … Perhaps because she kept hitting a wall, Sandra finally quieted down for a while. But it didn’t last long. That evening, I had just stepped out of the shower. I unlocked my phone to find over a dozen missed calls and messages. They were all from Sandra. I towel-dried my hair with one hand and typed with the other: “Mrs. Carr, is there a problem? I see your messages.” An audio message popped up instantly. 【Ms. Lister, why did it take you so long to reply? The school day is over. What could you possibly be so busy with?】 I frowned, a flicker of annoyance rising in me. My time after work was my own. But I pushed the feeling down, thinking something might have happened to Leo. I typed back patiently: 【I was in the shower, so I couldn’t get to my phone right away.】 Unexpectedly, Sandra sent another long audio message. 【I messaged you at 7:00. It’s 7:40 now. Almost an hour. Does it really take you that long to shower?】 I was completely dumbfounded. Her tone was hostile, and I couldn’t understand why she was so angry. But assuming it was something urgent, I continued to explain. 【A shower doesn’t usually take that long, but I washed my hair tonight. It’s quite long, so it takes a bit more time.】 Sandra went quiet. I waited for a long time, but nothing came. I finally picked up my hair dryer. Just then, my phone chimed again. It was Sandra. This time, she’d sent a picture. I tapped on it. It was a photo of me, in a supermarket aisle, looking at hair masks. Sandra: 【Ms. Lister, don’t you think you owe me an explanation?】 I stared at the photo, trying to figure out what she could possibly want me to explain. Finally, I just wrote back: 【I’m sorry, Mrs. Carr, but I don’t understand what you mean. And I have to ask why you were taking pictures of me without my knowledge.】 Sandra shot back: 【I’m asking you, why were you buying a hair mask?】 This was getting bizarre. What business was it of hers what I bought? But I wanted to clear up this misunderstanding and get some rest, so I answered honestly. 【Because I ran out of the one I had at home.】 Her next audio message was practically a shriek: 【Ms. Lister, do you take me for a fool?!】 Me: ??? I frowned. 【Mrs. Carr, I really don’t understand what you’re implying.】 Sandra: 【Fine, Ms. Lister. Since you want to play dumb, I’ll spell it out for you. Why are you trying to seduce my husband?】 【So young and already scheming to sleep with your student’s father. Have you no shame?】 【Do you even deserve to be a teacher?!】 A hot rush of anger surged through me. I had never even had a proper conversation with Leo’s father. Where did she get off accusing me of seducing him? My fingers trembled as I typed. 【Mrs. Carr, I suggest you watch your words. I have had no contact with Leo’s father. There is no ‘seduction.’】 Her reply was shrill. 【Still playing innocent? Then how do you explain the hair mask?】 I truly could not see the connection. 【What does one have to do with the other?】 I typed. 【Everything.】 Sandra replied. 【Haven’t you seen the shows lately? The scheming woman who uses her beautiful hair to trap a rich man.】 【You always seemed so simple and plain before. I actually thought you were a decent girl.】 【But the moment my husband posts about his new car, I find you in the store, spending ages picking out a hair mask.】 【I have a witness and evidence. What more is there to say?】 I actually laughed out loud. She’d been watching too much TV. I took a few deep breaths, forcing myself to calm down before replying. 【Mrs. Carr, you’re overthinking this. I bought a hair mask because my old one was empty. If you don’t believe me, I can send you a picture of the empty bottle.】 It was absurd, but I just wanted it to be over. I walked into my bathroom and snapped a picture of the empty plastic bottle in the trash can. In case she still didn’t believe me, I added an explanation. 【Mrs. Carr, for the record, I have all parents’ social media feeds muted. 【I have 46 children in my class, and I teach two groups, so I’m connected with over ninety parents. If I didn’t set restrictions, it would be impossible to separate my personal life from my work.】 【So, I had absolutely no idea that Leo’s father posted about a new car.】 The next second, my phone started ringing. It was Sandra. 2 I answered the call. Sandra’s sharp, furious voice erupted from the other end. “Ms. Lister, what is the meaning of this? How dare you post our conversation in the group chat?!” I put the phone on speaker, set it on the table, and calmly continued drying my hair. “It means nothing,” I replied coolly. “I just thought your imagination was impressive, Mrs. Carr. I figured everyone could learn something from your unique perspective.” “I’ll have you know I’m calling the Board of Education right now to file a complaint against you!” Her voice was distorted with rage, grating on the ear. “Go right ahead,” I said, my tone even. “In fact, I’d love for the board members to weigh in on this.” “Let’s see what law a rule-abiding kindergarten teacher breaks by purchasing a bottle of hair mask.” “Let’s see if from now on, all female teachers will be forbidden from taking care of their hair, lest they be accused of trying to seduce a student’s father.” “You…” Sandra was so choked with anger she couldn’t speak. All I could hear was her heavy, ragged breathing. I was done wasting my breath on her. I hung up. The sudden silence was a relief. But I knew this wasn’t over. I opened the parents’ group chat, which was already flooded with over 99 new messages. As expected, it had exploded. The first to react were some of the more active mothers. 【Lily’s Mom: Oh my god, what is going on? Buying a hair mask = seducing a parent? My brain can’t even process that logic.】 【Ben’s Mom: LMAO, I just bought two giant tubs of hair mask last week. Am I going to get fired too? @Ms. Lister】 【Chloe’s Dad: Those soap operas are a menace to society.】 Of course, there were a few trying to smooth things over. 【Max’s Grandma: Oh dear, this must be some kind of misunderstanding. I’m sure Mrs. Carr was just joking.】 【Sam’s Mom: Yeah, exactly! Ms. Lister, don’t take it to heart. Let’s not make a big deal out of it.】 I read the messages and scoffed. A joke? Was that a joke? Accusing me of being shameless, of trying to steal her husband. I wasn’t that forgiving. I was about to reply when a new message popped up. It was from Leo’s father, Chris Carr. He tagged me in the group. 【@Ms. Lister, I am so sorry. My wife has been binge-watching some ridiculous TV shows lately and isn’t thinking straight. I apologize for the trouble she’s caused you.】 Then, he tagged Sandra. 【@Sandra Carr, apologize to Ms. Lister right now! What is all this nonsense you’re spouting!】 The group chat fell silent. Everyone was waiting for Sandra’s response. After about two minutes, she finally appeared. But it wasn’t an apology. It was an audio message, her voice sharp and piercing. 【Chris Carr, what is your problem? You’re taking her side against me? She’s publicly humiliating me and you’re telling me to apologize? Are you interested in her too?!】 A dead silence fell over the group chat. I could feel the secondhand embarrassment radiating through the screen. This was no longer a simple misunderstanding; this was a public airing of their marital problems. Chris didn’t reply again. He was probably either furious or deeply embarrassed. Sandra, however, seemed to have found a new target. She started spamming the chat, tagging Chris over and over, her messages growing increasingly nasty. I quietly exited the chat. This was a mess I wanted no part of. I finished drying my hair, put on a face mask, and went to bed. The world could be ending, but it would have to wait until I’d had my sleep. The next morning, the moment I arrived at the kindergarten, the principal called me into her office. Her name was Mrs. Davison, a kind woman in her fifties who always looked out for the younger teachers. “Leah, come in, sit down.” She poured me a glass of water. “I heard about what happened last night.” I nodded, waiting for her to continue. “Sandra Carr called me first thing this morning. She’s threatening to file a formal complaint and demanding you give her a ‘satisfactory resolution.’” Mrs. Davison sighed, a look of weary frustration on her face. “She said that if you don’t cut your hair short and post a public apology in the group chat, she’s going to the Board of Education and the local news to drag our school’s name through the mud.” I almost laughed. Cut my hair? Who did she think she was? The Queen? “Mrs. Davison, I will not apologize, and I am certainly not cutting my hair,” I said, my voice firm as I met her gaze. “I have done nothing wrong. If I give in to such a ridiculous demand, what kind of authority will I have left in my classroom?” “What will the other parents think? What will the children think?” “They’ll learn that teachers can be bullied, that any parent’s unreasonable demand must be met.” Mrs. Davison nodded in agreement. “You’re right. That’s exactly my thinking as well.” She patted my hand reassuringly. “Don’t you worry. The school is behind you on this. I will handle Sandra Carr.” “You just focus on your class. Don’t let this affect your mood or your work.” With the principal’s support, a weight lifted from my shoulders. I went back to my classroom as the children began to arrive. Leo was there, dropped off by his nanny. He seemed withdrawn and sad, his eyes red and puffy as if he’d been crying. I sighed internally. When adults fight, it’s always the children who are the most innocent victims. I walked over and gently stroked his hair. “Good morning, Leo.” He looked up at me and mumbled, “Morning, Ms. Lister,” before looking back down at the floor. Throughout the day, Leo was much quieter than usual. He didn’t play with the other children or say much at all. I was worried. During nap time, I called him over to sit with me. “Leo, what’s wrong? Are you feeling sad?” He shook his head, silent. “Is it because Mommy and Daddy had a fight?” I asked gently. His eyes immediately welled up, and big, fat tears started rolling down his cheeks. “Mommy… Mommy smashed Daddy’s computer,” he sobbed. “And she said… she said it was all because of Ms. Lister.” My heart sank. Sandra was taking her anger toward me out on her family. I pulled Leo into a hug, patting his back softly. “It’s okay, sweetie. It’s not your fault, and it’s not the teacher’s fault.” “Grown-up problems are complicated, but your mommy and daddy both love you very much.” I didn’t know how else to explain it to a five-year-old. I just did my best to comfort him. When it was time to go home, Sandra arrived. She wore a pair of enormous sunglasses that hid half her face, and her expression was grim. She ignored me completely, walked straight to Leo, and yanked his hand, pulling him toward the door so forcefully he stumbled. “Mrs. Carr, please be gentle with him,” I couldn’t help but say. Sandra whipped her head around, her eyes glaring at me from behind the dark lenses. “Well, aren’t you concerned about my son, Ms. Lister,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “One might almost think you were trying to be his new stepmother.” Other parents were still in the hallway, and her words made all of them turn and stare. I was shaking with rage. “Mrs. Carr, that is completely inappropriate!”

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The day my fiancé, Julian, brought home a girl we were sponsoring, I walked in on them embracing. Caught off guard, I froze. Julian didn’t even flinch. “Lily has skin hunger,” he said calmly. “I’m just helping her cope. She’s practically my little sister, Maya. Don’t overthink it.” Before I could respond, the front door creaked open behind me. A young man stood there, laden with bags, looking like a stray puppy that had finally found its way home. He smiled shyly. “Excuse me, is this the Sterling residence?” What a coincidence. My childhood “groom” had come to find me. 1 The day Julian brought her home, I had just finished a six-hour remote conference on an empty stomach. It was evening when I walked through the door. Next to the shoe cabinet sat a pair of dainty Mary Janes. From the living room, a girl’s sweet laughter floated out. “Professor Julian, you don’t even know how to arrange flowers?” Then came Julian’s soft chuckle. “I guess I’ll have to learn from you.” I paused, dazed for a second. The housekeeper approached, hesitant. “Miss Maya, that’s the friend Mr. Julian brought home today…” I forced a smile and walked slowly toward the living room. Sure enough, there they were. Julian, who had never cared for flowers in his life, was bent over, carefully trimming stems. Beside him was a younger girl. Hands behind her back, head tilted, she watched him with a smile. She had healthy, sun-kissed skin and pear dimples when she grinned. Her eyes were bright and lively, like a rose in full bloom. Hearing my footsteps, she looked up quickly. She tugged at Julian’s sleeve, whispering, “Who is that…” Julian followed her gaze. His expression remained indifferent. “You’re back?” I hummed a response, smiling. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Julian tossed the scissors aside and took the tissue she offered to wipe his hands. “This is Lily.” “You know her.” Seeing my slight frown, he added, “The student we’re sponsoring.” Right. I remembered. Two years ago, I decided to sponsor a female student until she finished college. Someone quickly connected me with Lily. Back then, she was scrawny and lived in a leaky shack. In winter, without heating, her hands were red and swollen with chilblains. Julian and I covered her tuition and living expenses for the year. Since I was busy with work and Julian didn’t trust anyone else, he handled the communication. “I bought these flowers on the way here,” Lily said softly. “I didn’t know if Mrs. Sterling would lik—” Julian cut her off. “You’re not that far apart in age. No need for formalities.” His tone was gentle. “Just call her Maya.” Lily nodded and smiled at him. “Okay.” Julian placed a hand lightly on her back, guiding her toward the dining room. “Let’s eat first.” He glanced back at me, seemingly casual. “If you were going to be in meetings, you should have said something. Lily’s been starving waiting for you for an hour.” … It wasn’t until dinner that Julian told me Lily would be staying with us for a while. “She’s on summer break. Just visiting the city for a few days.” Lily immediately chimed in, “Maya, am I causing trouble?” I ignored her and asked Julian, “Why didn’t you tell me beforehand?” Julian frowned, annoyed. “What’s there to say? We have plenty of guest rooms. It’s just an extra pair of chopsticks.” He looked at me with that familiar, lofty indifference. In his eyes, I always asked stupid questions. I was the uncarved block of wood, hopeless and dull. Lily looked between us, then tugged Julian’s sleeve again. “Don’t fight with Maya.” Julian calmly picked up some food. “I’m not fighting. This is just how we are. She’s used to it.” Lily mumbled, “That’s so sad for Maya.” I stared at my reflection in the soup, the corner of my mouth twitching in a self-deprecating smile. Yeah. So sad. 2 I wasn’t brought back to the Sterling family until high school. Before that, I lived with my grandparents in a small rural town. My father, after three marriages and three divorces, realized he was destined to have no sons. That’s when he remembered me, his only daughter. He was the quintessential nouveau riche. Everything in our house screamed “money,” creating a jarring disconnect. Like the furniture, I didn’t fit into his world. He took me to galas where I stood silent, smiling like an idiot. The other kids talked about luxury brands and the latest season’s fashion; I didn’t recognize a single name. My mind was busy wondering if I’d miss the discount coupons on the livestream at 8 PM. They looked at me with disdain, deliberately ignoring me while chatting animatedly. I couldn’t join their conversation, yet I was trapped in their circle, awkward and helpless. “Maya,” someone said, rescuing me. Julian grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of the crowd. “What are you doing standing there like a statue?” I knew very little about Julian back then. Only that his dad was friends with mine. When we first met, my dad introduced him: “Call him ‘Brother.’ If you don’t understand something, ask Julian.” Julian had glanced at me, elegant and aloof. I still remember that look clearly. I looked up at him now, pulling me away from the crowd. “Thank you… Brother,” I whispered. Julian paused. His handsome features softened for a moment. Then he smiled faintly. “It’s nothing.” Julian became my only friend in the Sterling world. He took me to luxury stores, to high tea. His friends were welcoming, inviting me to their gatherings and never letting me feel left out. But as I spent more time with him, I learned about his temper. “Your taste is terrible. Throw these dresses away.” “Didn’t I tell you where this wine is from? You couldn’t even remember that?” “Don’t give cheap gifts next time. You’re embarrassing me.” I treated him like an older brother, so I subconsciously obeyed. A voice in my head constantly reminded me: Julian is always right. I felt insecure and timid in areas I didn’t understand. But with Julian around, I felt safe. So when my dad suggested we get engaged, my first reaction was to look at Julian with joy. But I saw him frown. My heart sank. It took a long time before I heard his indifferent “Okay.” … The next morning, the room next to mine was empty. Even though we were engaged, Julian and I slept in separate rooms. He wasn’t used to physical contact, and he was a bit of a germaphobe. I figured the wedding date was set anyway, so there was no rush. I checked my phone. 7:30 AM. Julian was usually still asleep. I wondered if he had gone out for a run when I heard Lily’s voice downstairs. Urgent and hushed. “It wouldn’t be good if Maya saw…” 3 I hurried to the stairs. In the corner of the living room, two shadows were intertwined. Seeing me, Lily pushed Julian away in a panic, her face flushed red. “Maya…” Julian turned slowly, adjusting his collar when he saw me. His expression was indifferent. “Lily has skin hunger. I’m just helping her cope. Don’t overthink it.” Skin hunger? I’d never heard of it. Julian always used terms I didn’t know. Separation anxiety, Stockholm syndrome, avoidant attachment. He’d say coldly, “If you don’t know, forget it.” As if I were the unreasonable one for not understanding. Those terms became his shield, justifying everything he did. “Maya,” Lily defended him, face still burning, “don’t be mad at Brother. Don’t fight because of me.” Brother. A distant, unfamiliar title. I felt a moment of confusion. I didn’t know when Julian stopped letting me call him that. “We aren’t siblings. Just call me Julian.” Back when I called him Brother, I had special privileges. I could do things his friends wouldn’t dare. I could ask questions his family avoided. He would just sigh helplessly and let me be. Everyone said I was special to him. Ironically, I thought so too. “Brother?” I looked at him with a half-smile. “You’re not siblings. Why call you that?” Julian frowned. “Maya, why are you so aggressive today?” “Lily is like a little sister to us. If she can call you sister, why can’t she call me brother?” I looked at him calmly, searching for a trace of panic. None. His expression returned to that lofty pity. “Maya, when did you become like this?” He accused me lightly. “Did you consider Lily’s feelings when you said that? She’s just a high school girl. You’re practically slandering her.” “Just because it’s a man and a woman, it has to be dirty in your eyes?” Beside him, Lily’s ears turned redder as she lowered her head. Julian twisted the narrative. I became the villain. The living room fell into a dead silence. Seeing I didn’t respond, Julian sighed and comforted me, “I think you’re just stressed from work lately. Try not to think so negatively—” Before he could finish, a knock came from the entryway. I heard the housekeeper open the door. “Who… are you looking for?” A clear, clean male voice asked, “Does Maya Sterling live here?” I froze. I had so few friends. Even my deliveries were under aliases. Who would come looking for me? The voice sounded familiar. I pushed past Julian and walked to the door. A young man stood there, carrying bags, looking green and youthful. My mind went blank for a second. Hesitantly, I called out, “Caleb?” Hearing my voice, Caleb looked up. Seeing me, he broke into a grin, revealing his tiger teeth. “Maya!” Behind me, Julian and Lily walked over. Julian scanned him, then looked at me. He pursed his lips, frowning. “Who is he?” “Me?” Caleb smiled shyly. “Nice to meet you. Sorry to intrude.” “I’m Maya’s childhood friend. And also…” He looked up, meeting Julian’s gaze calmly. He smirked slightly. “Also her childhood groom.” 4 Julian froze. Beside him, Lily gasped, “Wow…” She shut up immediately after a glare from Julian. I stepped forward to explain. “Not a real groom. Just something my dad messed around with when we were kids…” I was sickly as a child. My grandparents heard some folk remedy about warding off bad luck. The best way was to find a boy my age to raise in the house. His “yang” energy would counteract my sickness. Later, my dad brought home a little boy. Caleb followed my dad silently. He was pale and delicate. All I knew was his mom abandoned him, and his dad didn’t want him. My dad’s business had just picked up, so feeding another kid wasn’t a problem. So, Caleb and I spent our days picking fruit and watching cartoons. We became the village tyrant… and her sidekick. Caleb was timid back then, always getting bullied. My dad told me to protect him. So, relying on my dad’s money, I beat up the bullies. All that exercise actually made me stronger. The summer after middle school, my dad came to take me to the city. My grandparents wanted to stay, so I was the only one leaving. My dad looked at Caleb with a complicated expression. “Caleb, your dad… misses you too. Come back with us.” Caleb refused. He said he had no feelings for his father. “I promised Maya I’d stay and keep Grandpa and Grandma company. Besides, the high school in town is good. Don’t worry about me, Uncle Sterling.” I didn’t understand the weird tension between them then. I just felt sad. I got in the car. Dust swirled behind the wheels. Caleb stood outside the courtyard, waving and smiling. His face slowly disappeared into the dust. Back at the Sterling mansion, my dad demanded I fit in with his friends’ kids. They were born with silver spoons. I couldn’t get a word in edgewise. I hid in the bathroom and cried when they looked down on me. My dad said I was unpresentable. At night, hiding under the covers, I complained to Caleb. He comforted me patiently, telling me I didn’t need to please them. I mumbled, “If I don’t please them, I won’t have any friends.” Caleb immediately pledged loyalty. “How could that be? Am I not your friend?” I wanted to say, You don’t count. I need friends who can help me fit into this circle. Gradually, we had less to talk about. Until later, I told him, “I went to a gala with my dad today and met a really great guy! He’s like a big brother.” That day, I praised Julian endlessly. His knowledge, his class, his EQ, his taste. Caleb didn’t reply instantly like usual. A long time later, he wrote: “Congratulations, Maya. You found a good friend.” But I was too busy maintaining my new friendships. Chatting with Caleb went from weekly to monthly. Eventually, just holiday greetings. I heard from my grandparents that Caleb’s dad took him back. Apparently, it was in a faraway city. I thought I’d never see him again. And yet… here he was, at my door.

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It was 100 degrees during freshman orientation, so I paid out of pocket to treat the whole class to boba tea. The scholarship student my brother sponsors immediately lost it. “I know your family is rich, but that’s your brother’s hard-earned money. What right do you have to waste it?” With that, she slapped the drink out of my hand, spilling it everywhere. “I’ll let it slide this time, but if it happens again, I’ll teach you how to be frugal on your brother’s behalf!” I looked at the spilled boba, then slapped her right back. “From today on, my family stops sponsoring you!” “You like being frugal, right? Go ahead and be frugal on your own dime!” 1 The drill instructor had just dismissed us. I immediately rounded up a few guys to help carry boba tea from the shop across the street. The weather had been brutal lately. Several students in our formation had already passed out from heatstroke. So, I decided to treat everyone. Honestly, I mostly just wanted one myself. But drinking alone felt rude. Plus, my brother had specifically told me to make friends at college, so I figured this was a perfect opportunity. Also, the boba shop across from campus? My brother invested in it. Since I love boba but he hates all the additives in most places, he had his secretary open a “healthy” shop right there just for me. It was family-owned, safe, and delicious. After the guys brought the drinks over, I started handing them out. First dibs went to the guys who helped carry them. But as I started passing them to the rest of the formation, a cold sneer cut through the air. “Buying drinks just to seek male validation? Pathetic.” I frowned, looking for the source. But with so many people crowding around, I couldn’t pinpoint who said it. I sighed. Whatever. Haters gonna hate. After the small interruption, I continued handing out drinks. Everyone was thrilled. “Vivian, you’re an angel!” “Vivian for President! I’m following you for the next four years!” I laughed and joked with them. Suddenly, that sarcastic voice rang out again. “College students? Please. You’re just a bunch of shallow simps who can be bought with a drink.” This time, before I could even get mad, my classmates snapped back. “Calling us simps? What are you? Hiding in the crowd like a coward. Come say it to my face!” “Exactly! Vivian saw we were dying in the heat and bought drinks out of kindness. What’s your problem? Stop acting morally superior while getting a free drink!” I stood awkwardly by the boxes. I remembered my brother’s warning: “Vivian, make friends, but don’t stand out too much. People get jealous. Sometimes doing good deeds gets you punished.” He was right. The diversity of human stupidity never ceases to amaze me. I patiently addressed the unknown voice. “I’m not trying to buy anyone. I genuinely want to be friends, and it’s incredibly hot today. This is just a sincere gesture.” As soon as the words left my mouth, the person laughed louder. “Sincere?” “Spending your parents’ hard-earned money to show off? You call that sincere?” A thin girl stepped out of the crowd. She walked straight up to me and slapped the drink out of my hand. 2 The cup hit the ground and cracked open. Caramel-colored milk tea splashed all over the rubber track and my camouflage uniform. Sticky. Gross. I was stunned. It happened so fast. “Vivian, I know your family is rich, but that money comes from your parents’ blood and sweat. What right do you have to enjoy it without working, to waste it like this?” “I hate princess-syndrome girls like you who enjoy unearned blessings!” “Orientation is meant to build willpower! But you? Disrupting discipline! Dragging everyone into your gluttony! Don’t you think you’re just grandstanding?” “Sincere? You just want to flex!” With that, she kicked over the remaining boxes of boba. Then, she pulled a piece of paper from her bag. It had the counselor’s signature. “The counselor is sick and can’t come in. She appointed me as the temporary class monitor.” “From today on, everyone in this formation listens to me.” “No one is allowed to drink Vivian’s boba!” “If you do, I’ll report you for disrupting orientation!” The whole formation was stunned. Everyone stared at the spilled drinks with heartbreak in their eyes. But the girl was deep in her own world. She even started introducing herself. Her name was Sarah. She was a scholarship student from a remote mountain village. She had suffered a lot, so she despised people like us who spent money like water. “You guys can’t handle a little heat? Farmers back home work in 104-degree weather all day! You don’t see them drinking boba!” “If schools produce pleasure-seekers like you, this country is doomed!” “I can’t control others, but since I’m the monitor, I’m taking responsibility! I won’t let this culture of extravagance infect our class!” “Vivian, you started this. Go write a 5,000-word self-reflection essay. And however much you spent on these drinks, pay that amount into the class fund.” “You like showing off? That money will cover everyone’s water for the week. I will personally ration out water bottles to everyone!” Sarah’s speech left everyone speechless. I bought some drinks, and she escalated it to the downfall of the nation. The moral kidnapping was too strong. The guys who took drinks silently put them back. Everyone returned to their spots. I turned to go back too. As I passed her, our eyes met. Instantly, I remembered a photo. It was an ID photo in a file on my brother’s desk. He had mentioned it specifically. “Vivian, this girl got into the same university and major as you. I’m planning to sponsor her. Once school starts, I’ll ask her to look out for you.” So, Sarah is the girl my brother sponsors? 3 At lunch in the cafeteria, I sat with my roommate, Quinn. Quinn pouted, complaining about the morning’s disaster. “I swear, you were just being nice! What is Sarah’s problem?” “Acting like a dictator just because she’s ‘temporary monitor.’ Holding a chicken feather like it’s an arrow of authority. Who knows if she’ll even keep the position?” “So annoying! My boba!” Quinn tilted her head back, pretending to cry. I stuffed a piece of sweet and sour pork into her mouth. “Okay, okay, I’ll treat you next time.” “Maybe she’s just really straightforward. Different backgrounds, you know? We can’t empathize, so let’s just avoid her.” While talking, my chopsticks slipped, and a piece of pork fell onto the table. Quinn and I looked at each other. “Three-second rule!” Just as Quinn was about to pick it up to wash and eat, Sarah appeared. She slammed her tray onto our table. CLANG! It attracted stares from the entire line. Quinn and I looked at her, confused. Sarah started her lecture. “Vivian, was my speech this morning not clear enough?” “Do you think having money makes you exempt? Do you know how much effort goes into raising a pig? Farmers work day and night for us to have food, and you throw away perfectly good meat just because it has a little fat? Are you human? Do you deserve to be here?” I take back what I said about her being straightforward. She’s mentally ill. Why does she hallucinate so much? I stood up. I wasn’t having it. “First, we didn’t throw it away because of fat. We dropped it by accident and were about to wash it and eat it. You’re the one who started screaming.” “Second, I may not know farm life, but I know not to waste food! Unlike you, who kicked over 35 cups of boba this morning. Do the staff who made those not count as workers? Is their labor free for you to trample?” “Finally, you spilled rice when you slammed your tray down. Since you’re so frugal, please pick it up and eat it!” Quinn immediately washed the dropped pork and ate it. Chew chew chew. She swallowed and pointed at the rice grains on the floor, raising an eyebrow at Sarah. “I ate mine. I didn’t waste food.” “Your turn.” 4 Sarah’s eyes turned red instantly. She swept her arm across the table, knocking all our trays onto the floor. Grease splattered everywhere. Quinn and I were covered in sticky oil stains. Sarah looked at our mess with a sneer in her eyes. But when she spoke, she went full victim mode. “Vivian, Quinn, don’t go too far!” “You wasted food first! So what if I said something? I know you rich people look down on us poor people, but do you have to humiliate me in public?” I laughed out loud. We didn’t actually expect her to eat off the floor. We just wanted to vent. But she kept morally hijacking the conversation. She constantly tried to create class conflict. We are all students. We are equals. Who walks around broadcasting their background like her? Is being born rich a crime? Even a saint couldn’t handle her constant attacks. “How did we humiliate you? You’re the one screaming about waste! Quinn ate the pork, she didn’t waste anything. But when it’s your turn, your principles suddenly don’t apply?” “Sarah, I wasn’t going to make a big deal about this morning. But since you insist on pestering me… sorry.” “This morning, you destroyed 35 cups of boba. At $5 a cup, that’s $175. Plus my shoes, $1,500. They’re covered in grease because of you. I won’t make you buy new ones, just pay the cleaning fee. My usual place charges minimum $50. I’ll round down. You owe me $200.” Since she insists I’m a spoiled princess, I’ll act like one. Quinn followed my lead. “Oh right. Me too. My shoes aren’t as expensive as Vivian’s, but they aren’t cheap. Cleaning fee: $30.” If I recall correctly, my brother sent Sarah her first month’s stipend. He gives her $300 a month. Given her frugal nature, she should still have plenty left. It was enough. Of course, I was doing this to get my family’s money back. Since she’s so noble and loves suffering, she doesn’t need our sponsorship. I don’t have many virtues. But I love helping people achieve their dreams. Sarah loves hardship? I won’t stand in her way! I looked at Sarah and used her own weapon against her. “A class monitor should lead by example. You wouldn’t renege on a debt, would you?” The surrounding students started chiming in. “Yeah, monitor! Set an example!” “Poor but proud, right? Does that stop when you have to pay up?” “Exactly! Vivian and Quinn’s money didn’t fall from the sky. You destroyed the drinks and ruined their clothes. That’s all money. If you don’t pay, they should call the cops.” Under the pressure, Sarah was speechless. She took out her phone and, wincing in pain, transferred the money to us. I smiled at the notification. I raised my phone to the crowd. “I’m buying boba for everyone this afternoon!”

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After I rejected Milo’s divorce proposal for the third time, I did something stupid. I compiled everything—the chat logs with his assistant, the hotel receipts—into a damning slideshow and blasted it all over the internet. I poured out five years of marital grievances, a testament of my pain written in blood and tears. Just when I thought I’d finally feel the sweet satisfaction of revenge, the police showed up at my door. That’s when I learned Milo had reported me for invasion of privacy. For that, I was about to face the five darkest days of my life in a holding cell. But on the third day, he came to see me. He brought our son’s latest award-winning essay for me to read. The title was: My Mom is a Psycho. In that instant, the bedrock of my convictions crumbled into dust. Seeing the contempt in his eyes, I finally broke. The fight went out of me. “Milo,” I said, my voice a raw whisper, “I’ll sign the papers.” — 1 “Kelly, you can ask for anything you want, except custody of our son.” Now that he had what he wanted, Milo’s aggressive posture softened. For the first time in months, he looked at me with something other than hostility. All the fight had drained out of me, too. There were no more hysterical arguments left in my soul. I stated my terms calmly. “I want one million dollars.” His face flickered with surprise. He had clearly expected another war, another dragged-out battle for our son. He had probably come prepared, armed with a strategy to dismantle my every claim to motherhood. But my request threw him completely off balance. “Just a million?” he asked, his voice laced with disbelief. “You take this money, and Leo will have nothing to do with you from this day forward. You understand that?” I met his probing gaze and gave a slow, deliberate nod. Milo opened his mouth as if to say more, then thought better of it. “Fine,” he clipped out. “The moment you’re released, we’ll file the papers. Don’t you dare play games with me, Kelly.” He left me with that final warning, turning his back and walking away. But just after he was gone, another visitor arrived. It was my mother, who I hadn’t seen in the five years since she moved to Paris. She had a lawyer with her. Before I knew it, she had posted my bail with an air of casual efficiency. Walking out of the police station, she fished a slim cigarette from her purse and flicked a lighter open with practiced ease. She exhaled a slow, thoughtful plume of smoke before turning her gaze on me, taking in my exhausted, disheveled state. “Ready to come with me now?” I’m twenty-seven years old. That was the second time she’d asked me that question. The first was when she divorced my cheating father. She walked away with nothing, wanting only to take me with her. But everyone around me, all the well-meaning relatives, whispered in my ear. A six-year-old would be a burden. A penniless woman couldn’t raise a child. So I ignored the cry of my own heart and chose to stay with my father. She accepted my decision without a fight and left without a backward glance. For years, a small, bitter part of me resented her for it. Resented her for abandoning me, for shattering our family. So when she flew in for my wedding to Milo, and she told me, “Kelly, learn to love yourself before you love anyone else. Don’t pour your entire being into another person. Be good to yourself,” I bristled. Back then, I was so naive. Ten years of history with Milo felt like an unbreakable bond. I believed he would love me as he loved himself, forever and always. I’d shot back at her with all the arrogance of a girl in love. “Do you think everyone is as selfish as you are? Always demanding love but never trying to be worthy of it.” She didn’t get angry. She just looked at me with a sad, knowing smile. Only now, sitting here, did I finally understand. I truly was a naive little fool. My throat felt like it was lined with shattered glass. Each word was a fresh cut. “As soon as the divorce is final,” I rasped, “I’ll go with you.” 2 I spent the night at my mother’s hotel. The next morning, dressed in the new clothes she’d bought for me, I went back to the house I had called home for six years. Our son, Leo, was in the living room playing with his toys. When he saw me, his eyes flashed with surprise, quickly followed by a wave of annoyance. He muttered under his breath, “Weren’t you supposed to be in there for five days? Why are you back in three?” Just then, Milo came down the stairs. He, too, looked startled to see me, as if he hadn’t expected me to be out so soon. He quickly schooled his features into a neutral mask. “You’re back,” he stated calmly. “Go wash up and get some rest. Don’t cause any more trouble.” I shook my head. “No need. Let’s go to the courthouse now and file for divorce.” At the word “divorce,” Leo’s face contorted. He scrambled behind Milo’s legs, shouting at me, “If you’re leaving, you’re not taking me with you! I’m not going anywhere with you!” The raw rejection on his furious little face was a familiar sting. I could only manage a hollow twitch of my lips. Milo had left Leo’s essay with me yesterday. I’d read it over and over, the words burned into my memory. “My mom is like a psycho,” he had written. “My dad works so hard, but she’s always fighting with him. She smashes things around the house like a crazy person and hits my dad. If I could, I wish this psycho woman wasn’t my mom.” The first time Milo asked for a divorce was right after I found out he was cheating. I had calmly taken pictures of the chat logs and hotel receipts on his phone. When he got home, I laid the evidence out before him, one photo at a time. My fists were clenched so tight my nails dug into my palms, but I held my rage in check. I was waiting for his confession, for him to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness. I’d imagined a hundred different ways he would break down and apologize. But he didn’t. He just looked at me, his eyes devoid of guilt. Instead, there was a chilling arrogance, the brazen confidence of a man who’d been caught and simply didn’t care. “Kelly,” he said, “either you delete those photos and continue playing the quiet Mrs. Shen, or we get a divorce.” Until that moment, I’d foolishly thought that if he just said he was sorry, I could try to forgive him. For Leo. I didn’t want our family to break apart, didn’t want my son to relive my own childhood trauma of being forced to choose between his parents. But there was no apology. His shameless audacity ignited the fury I’d been suppressing. I grabbed the nearest object and hurled it at him, then another, and another. A storm of grief and betrayal broke loose. But then I heard the nanny’s voice from the hallway, talking to Leo. I froze, desperately trying to rein in my breakdown. I didn’t want my son to see this ugly, broken side of us. But it was too late. Leo saw me, a wild woman hurling things at his father. What he didn’t hear were the words Milo had said just moments before. Now, looking at this child who regarded me as if I were poison, I accepted the piercing pain of this wound, inflicted by the one person I brought into this world. “Don’t worry,” I said, my voice flat. “I don’t want you. I’ll be gone after the divorce.” Leo’s expression was a mixture of suspicion and hope. He looked up at Milo for confirmation. Milo met his gaze. “In that case,” he said coolly, “we’ll file the papers tomorrow. I’ll have my lawyer draft a parental rights termination agreement. Once you sign it, Leo will be able to relax.” At his father’s words, Leo’s eyes lit up, shining with pure, unadulterated anticipation. I swallowed hard. “Fine,” I agreed. 3 Milo’s lawyer was efficient. Within two hours, the agreement was in my hands. A document relinquishing all my parental rights. I signed my name without a moment’s hesitation. The second the pen left the paper, I heard a small, happy sigh from beside me. Leo snatched the document from the table. “I finally don’t have a psycho mom anymore!” he cheered. “No one at school can make fun of me now.” He caught me staring, and Milo’s gaze met mine, his eyes glinting with a faint mockery. “Someone took a picture when the police escorted you out of the house. It went viral online,” he explained, his tone thick with blame. “Because of you, Leo’s been getting a hard time at school.” He forgot, of course, that he was the one who started it all. I didn’t bother to argue. I let him heap all the blame onto my shoulders, just as he wanted. But the disdain in his eyes reminded me of the second time he’d asked for a divorce. That time, I had refused to accept it. Consumed by a desperate, maddening grief, I stormed into his office. In front of all his employees, I screamed my accusations, laying bare the affair between him and his assistant, Lana. He stood in the middle of the crowd, completely unmoved, watching my public breakdown as if I were a clown in a circus. I had forgotten. He signed their paychecks. They weren’t about to judge their boss’s private life or risk their jobs for a stranger. They all just stared, their eyes filled with a mixture of pity and amusement. Their gazes were like spotlights, leaving me nowhere to hide. I wanted to run, to disappear. Then I heard the whispers from the crowd. “She’s pretty, I guess, but she’s got nothing on Lana. If I were the boss, I’d make the same choice.” “Right? So many guys cheat, especially the rich ones. Why is she being so dramatic? Can’t she just learn to turn a blind eye?” “If I were her, I wouldn’t make a scene. Just take the money and live the good life. Making a fool of herself like this is just pathetic.” I stood there, paralyzed, as their words washed over me. A memory surfaced. The year Milo started his business. I’d helped him land a crucial contract by drinking round after round with a client, a night that ended with me in the hospital with a bleeding ulcer. Milo sat by my bedside, clutching my hand, his voice thick with tears. “Kelly,” he’d choked out, “I swear, I will never let you down. I’ll give you a home, I’ll make you the most envied wife in the world.” I opened my mouth to shout back at them, to tell them that he was the one who made those promises, that he was the one who swore we’d grow old together. But before I could speak, Lana came running over, her face streaked with tears. She dropped to her knees in front of me with a dramatic thud. “Mrs. Shen, please!” she sobbed, bowing her head. “I never meant to come between you and Mr. Shen. If you don’t want me here, I’ll resign immediately. I’ll never see him again. But I’m begging you, please don’t do this here! How can he face his employees after a scene like this?” She cast herself as the noble woman protecting her boss, and me as the unhinged wife. Milo looked at her, crumpled on the floor in a puddle of tears, and his heart clearly went out to her. He rushed over and helped her to her feet. Then he turned on me, his voice booming with fury. “That’s enough! Kelly, we’re getting a divorce! I can’t live like this for another day! I am sick of this suffocating life!” That day was also documented in Leo’s essay. I only learned then that he had skipped his after-school class that day to go to the office and play with Lana. And in his essay, he wrote: “My mom isn’t just a psycho, she’s so embarrassing. I don’t understand why I have a mom like her. I wish Lana was my mom instead.” 4 I agreed to the divorce. I signed away my rights as a mother. For Milo and Leo, it was a day of celebration. They took the agreement and went out, eager to commemorate their victory. As I started packing my bags, a new post popped up on Milo’s social media feed. It was a photo of him, Leo, and Lana, all wearing matching family outfits. Milo, who rarely ever smiled, was beaming. The brilliant, joyful smile on Leo’s face was just as piercing. Lana stood between them, the very picture of a gentle, loving mother. I glanced at it for only a second before a message from my mom lit up my screen. “I have your new passport ready. As soon as you file the papers tomorrow, come with me. We can come back just to pick up the final decree when it’s time.” “Okay,” I typed back, without hesitation. I used to tell myself I had to be a good mother, a mother who always put her child first. I wanted him to grow up happy, to know he was loved. So I never told him about the C-section. How the pain was so blinding I almost passed out several times. Milo wasn’t there. I had to stay conscious. I’d heard horror stories about babies being switched or stolen when no one was watching. So I bit down hard, enduring wave after wave of agony. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and called Milo, sobbing. He didn’t answer. I assumed he was busy with work and forced myself to swallow my pain. It was only after his affair came to light, after all the ugly truths were spilled, that I found out where he was. While I was in a hospital bed, crying in agony after being cut open for our child, he was in someone else’s bed, enjoying a much softer embrace. The night Leo had a raging fever and I was simultaneously struck down with appendicitis, frantic and in excruciating pain, Milo was on another one of his “business trips”—in that same woman’s bed. He was blind to my suffering. On the rare occasions he felt a pang of guilt, he would shower me with expensive gifts. And when he saw the genuine joy on my face, a dark, ugly thought would cross his mind: Kelly is so easy to please. He told me this himself. He recounted my moments of gratitude as if they were a joke, completely forgetting the years when we had nothing. Back when we lived in a cramped, dark basement apartment, he would see other men’s girlfriends, so polished and beautiful, and then look at me, worn down by work and worry, and his eyes would fill with tears. “Kelly,” he would whisper, his voice thick with emotion, “I’m the luckiest man in the world to have met you. How could I ever live without you?” He swore he would give me the best of everything. Whenever he got paid, he’d spend half his meager salary on a pretty dress or a piece of jewelry for me. “You deserve so much better, Kelly,” he’d say. “Just wait a little longer. Everything they have, I’ll give it all to you, and more.” I waited. And I hoped. Day after day, I dreamed of the beautiful future we would build for our little family. But reality was a relentless blade, stabbing at a heart already riddled with scars. I finished packing. I went through the house and tore up every photograph of myself, then hired a cleaning service to scrub away every last trace of my existence. Tomorrow, after filing the papers, I would leave. Milo and Leo didn’t come home that night. I didn’t call to check on them. The next morning, I was at the courthouse as we’d agreed. Milo arrived half an hour late. As he got out of his car, he saw me. I was wearing a vibrant red dress. A flicker of something—surprise, admiration—crossed his face before he quickly masked it with a smirk. “Why are you wearing the dress from our wedding day?” he drawled. “Having second thoughts?” I looked at him and shook my head. “Red is for celebration,” I said. “And today is a day worth celebrating.” The smirk vanished from his face. He looked into my eyes, as calm and still as a deep lake, and a flicker of unease crossed his features. “Are you sure about this? No regrets?” he pressed. “You know me, Kelly. I don’t look back. Once we sign these papers, we’re strangers.” I pulled out my phone. Right there, in front of him, I deleted his number, his messages, every digital trace of him from my life. Then I turned and walked toward the courthouse entrance. “Let’s go,” I said. “It’s our turn.” After it was done, we walked out into the sunlight. Without a single backward glance, I walked toward my mother’s car parked by the curb. Milo watched my resolute figure walk away, and an inexplicable hollowness bloomed in his chest. He reached out, his hand grasping for something to hold on to. But all he caught was empty air.

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