Category: English

The day I flew back home, my best friend’s girlfriend cornered me, her eyes burning with hostility. “So, you’re the one that got away, huh? His old flame. I’ll give you this, you’re pretty. But now that he has me, I guess that makes you… what? Just a boring old memory.” I tried to explain that I was just one of the guys, a friend, but she wouldn’t let it go. “Oh, I’ve seen your type before. The ‘cool girl’ who plays the ‘just one of the guys’ card so you can flirt without any consequences.” “Honey, have some self-respect. Don’t be some cheap tramp everyone’s had a piece of.” I was completely floored. What the hell was a “cool girl” act? I’m a guy. A 100% genuine, bona fide guy. 1 The door to the private dining room swung open just as I sat down. Leo walked in with his arm around a woman in a slinky red dress. “Brian! You’re finally back!” Zack clapped me on the shoulder. “Let me introduce you. This is Leo’s girlfriend, Lily.” Lily’s eyes roamed over me, top to bottom, and then her brow furrowed. “Leo, is this the ‘old flame’ you’re always talking about? You’ve got a pretty face, I’ll give you that, but your style is so… androgynous. Neither here nor there.” My hand, holding a teacup, paused mid-air. I looked up and smiled. “An old flame? That’s a new one on me. I didn’t know I had that title.” “Don’t play dumb,” she scoffed, sliding in next to Leo and draping an arm over his shoulder. “Leo has pictures of you on his phone. Calls you his ‘best friend.’ Sounds more like some unfinished business to me.” Zack quickly tried to smooth things over. “Lily, you’ve got it all wrong. Brian is one of our brothers…” “Brother?” Lily let out a sharp, derisive laugh. “What kind of woman runs around calling a bunch of guys her ‘brothers’? I see what this is. You’re a ‘cool girl,’ using that face to string guys along, keeping Leo on the back burner.” I set my teacup down and leaned forward. “Miss Lily, first, I’m not stringing anyone along. Second, this ‘cool girl’ you’re talking about… is it possible you’re just so insecure you see a rival in everyone?” “Are you trying to insult me?” Lily shot up, slamming her hand on the table. “I’m warning you, stay away from Leo! Don’t think that pretty face gives you a pass to be a homewrecker!” “Homewrecker?” I raised an eyebrow. “Leo is your boyfriend, not mine. Whether I stay away from him or not is none of your business. But you, on the other hand, attacking me the second we meet? That’s just a stunning lack of class.” Leo tugged on Lily’s arm. “Lily, stop it. Brian really is my friend…” “Friend?” She yanked her arm away. “She’s a woman! Thinks she can fool everyone by wearing a button-down and a short haircut? It’s all an act to get your sympathy so she can snatch other people’s boyfriends!” I pulled out my driver’s license and slapped it on the table. “Why don’t you see for yourself? The little box next to ‘Sex’ says ‘Male’.” Lily glanced at it for a fraction of a second before whipping her head away. “An ID doesn’t prove anything! It could be fake! A girl like you would do anything to get a man.” “You look all prim and proper, but underneath you’re just a cheap tramp.” Zack couldn’t take it anymore. “Lily, that’s way out of line. Brian just got back in the country. What is your problem?” “My problem?” Lily put her hands on her hips. “My problem is trying to get you guys to see her for who she really is! You’re all being fooled by her looks!” I let out a cold laugh. “Miss Lily, instead of wasting your breath psychoanalyzing me, maybe you should keep a tighter leash on your own boyfriend. After all, turning his best friend into some romantic rival… with an imagination like that, it’s a shame you’re not writing novels.” 2 “Don’t you dare get sarcastic with me!” Lily glared, stabbing her fork into the plate with a clatter. “You’re just jealous that Leo and I are so happy, so you’re trying to stir up trouble!” Leo looked mortified. “Brian, come on. Lily’s young. Don’t stoop to her level.” “Youth isn’t an excuse for having no brain,” I said calmly, taking a bite of food. “I came back to catch up with my friends, not to be screamed at by a stranger for no reason.” “Who’s screaming?” Lily’s voice shot up, drawing stares from the next table. “I’m warning you! Don’t think you can push your luck just because Leo has a soft spot for the past. He’s mine now, so you can just give up!” Zack frowned. “Lily, can you please just talk normally? Brian is a guy. We’ve known each other since we were kids. Why can’t you believe us?” “I don’t believe you!” Lily pointed a finger at me. “Look at him! Delicate skin, soft voice… besides the clothes, what part of him looks like a man? You’re all in on it together, trying to give Leo an excuse to keep his side piece around!” “Side piece?” I put down my fork and met her gaze. “Miss Lily, don’t you think you’re overestimating your own importance? Even if Leo were looking for a backup, don’t you think he’d find someone with a bit more sense than you?” “Are you saying I don’t have sense?” She leaped to her feet, her finger practically touching my nose. “You little manipulator! Think you’re so clever? Playing the man to sneak into a group of friends, seducing every guy in sight. You’re disgusting!” “Disgusting?” I stood up too, towering over her by a good half a foot. “I didn’t provoke you, I didn’t even look at you, and the first meal I have back home, you unleash this tirade on me. Who’s the disgusting one here?” Leo quickly stepped between us. “Hey, hey, break it up! Brian, I’m sorry. On Lily’s behalf. She just… she cares about me a lot.” “Cares about you?” I laughed. “If she cared about you, she’d respect your friends, not act like a rabid dog. Miss Lily, I’ll tell you one more time: I am a man, and Leo and I are just friends. If you keep this up, don’t blame me for not being polite.” Lily was speechless, her eyes turning red. She looked at Leo, her voice dripping with hurt. “Leo, look at how he’s bullying me!” “Alright, alright,” Leo said, patting her back. “Brian didn’t mean it. Just sit down and eat. Don’t ruin the mood for everyone.” Lily shot me a venomous look and sat back down, muttering under her breath, “Such a phony. You can just tell he’s bad news.” I ignored her and raised my glass to Zack. “Forget her. Let’s drink.” 3 The peace didn’t last long. Lily started up again, her voice laced with poison. “Some people have such thick skin. They can get cursed out and just sit there eating and drinking like nothing happened. No shame at all.” Zack had heard enough. “Lily, that’s it! Brian is our best friend. Can you please show him a little respect?” “Respect him?” Lily snorted. “Why should I respect some ‘cool girl’ wannabe? She deliberately dresses like a man to hang around you guys. Isn’t it obvious she’s trying to seduce you? Zack, has she got her hooks in you too? Is that why you’re defending her?” “What the hell are you talking about?” Zack’s face flushed. “We’re all brothers!” “Brothers?” Lily laughed, a high, tinkling sound. “Oh, Zack, don’t kid yourself! What man looks like that? I think you’re just infatuated with her but you’re too afraid to admit it because of your ‘brotherhood’! Have you two already slept together?” My fists clenched. I was done being patient. “Lily, you’ve gone too far! I’ll prove it to you right now…” “Brian!” Leo suddenly grabbed my wrist, his voice a harsh whisper. “Don’t! I’m begging you!” I froze. “Leo, what are you talking about?” “Lily… she has a lot of pride,” he pleaded. “If you actually prove it, she’ll be humiliated. The scene will be even worse. For my sake, as a friend, can you just let it go for a little longer?” “Let it go?” I stared at him. “She’s insulted me every way she can, and you want me to let it go?” Zack chimed in. “Leo, she’s walking all over Brian. How can you still defend her?” “I’m not defending her,” Leo sighed. “I just don’t want to make a bigger scene. I’m… I’m planning on marrying her. Brian, I know this is unfair. I’ll make it up to you later.” Seeing Leo protecting her, Lily became even more brazen. “See? See? Even Leo is on my side! I told you, you’re nothing but a manipulative, two-faced bitch trying to seduce my man!” I was speechless. The dinner ended on that sour note. As we were leaving the restaurant, Leo suddenly said, “Damn, my car won’t start.” Lily immediately turned to me. “Brian, you drove here, right? Perfect. You can give us a ride home.” I raised an eyebrow. “And why would I do that?” “Why?” Lily said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re Leo’s ‘best friend.’ What’s the big deal about giving us a ride? Or are you just bitter you have to see us together?” Leo added, “Come on, Brian, help us out. I’ll buy you dinner next time.” I hesitated, then finally nodded. “Fine. Get in.” The entire ride, Lily deliberately clung to Leo’s arm, whispering in his ear just loud enough for me to hear. “Oh, Leo, you’re so good to me. You’re the best.” “Silly girl. Who else would I be good to?” Leo’s voice was full of affection. Lily glanced in the rearview mirror, her eyes landing on my stony expression. “Leo, look at some people. Their face is so long it’s about to hit the floor. Someone’s jealous.” My grip on the steering wheel tightened. I was beyond annoyed. I was just done. 4 “Leo, remember our first date?” Lily cooed, leaning her head on his shoulder. “The necklace you gave me? I wear it every single day.” “Of course I remember,” Leo said with a smile. “I’m glad you like it.” “I bet some people have never had anyone treat them so well,” Lily said, her eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. “After all, who would want an androgynous ‘cool girl’ who can’t decide if she’s a man or a woman?” I took a deep breath and said nothing. In the mirror, Leo shot me a look, mouthing the words, “Please, man. Just hang in there.” I laughed coldly to myself. This was beyond just hanging in there. Lily was pushing every button she could find. “Brian,” Lily said suddenly, her voice sickly sweet. “You’re getting on in years. How come you haven’t found anyone yet? Is it because no one wants you? I guess it must be hard. Men don’t like you, women don’t want to be near you.” “Lily!” Leo said, a weak attempt at a reprimand. “Don’t say that.” “I’m just being honest,” she pouted. “It’s a shame. You have a decent face. Why do you have to be so confused? Pretending to be a man just to get close to other people’s boyfriends.” “Miss Lily,” I finally said, my voice level. “Do you ever think before you speak? Whether I’m seeing someone or not has absolutely nothing to do with you.” “Ooh, finally snapped, did you?” Lily giggled. “I was just joking. Did I hit a nerve?” “A joke?” The veins in my hands stood out as I gripped the steering wheel. “Making jokes about someone’s identity and character. Is that what passes for manners where you come from?” “I never said you had a character problem,” Lily said, feigning innocence. “I just think it’s not a good look for a woman to be hanging around a bunch of men all the time. You should find a nice, simple guy and settle down. Stop trying to steal other people’s boyfriends.” Again, Leo was gesturing at me in the mirror, his eyes begging. “Brian, let it go. She’s just talking.” “Just talking?” I glanced at him. “This is the third time she’s called me a conniving homewrecker. How am I supposed to ‘let it go’?” “Brian, I know you’re upset,” Leo sighed. “But Lily really loves me. She’s just… sensitive. I promise I’ll talk to her when we get home. Just let her have this one, please?” Seeing Leo defend her yet again, Lily’s smirk widened. “You hear that? Leo wants you to back off! So be a good little pet and stop trying to drive a wedge between us. It’s not going to work.” I stopped talking. I just slammed my foot on the accelerator. The car surged forward. All I wanted was to drop these two off and never see them again.

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The System ordered me to seduce the male lead. Halfway through the conquest, he killed the guy. “My hand slipped,” he said, his tone completely indifferent. Me: … Later, he took over the male lead’s body. He unbuttoned his shirt, guiding me to sit on his lap. “Come on. Use everything I taught you. Tease me. Conquer me…” 1 The System has been acting weird lately. He stopped teaching me how to seduce the male lead. My affection score with Sebastian Sterling was stuck at 60. It wouldn’t budge. With Sebastian’s “one that got away,” Sophia, returning from abroad tomorrow, I had to take drastic measures. Plan A: Seduction. That afternoon, I went to Sebastian’s penthouse. I ditched my usual look for the “innocent flower” vibe—a tactic the System taught me years ago. I wore a sexy red slip dress and nestled into Sebastian’s arms. On the sofa, I twirled his tie around my finger, looking at him with dewy eyes. “Sebastian, forget about Sophia. Be with me, okay?” Sophia was his first love. Even though he liked me now, the power of a returning first love is unpredictable. I had to lock this down before she landed. Sebastian stared at me, his gaze darkening. After a long silence, a husky voice filled the air. “I could.” “But… if you want me to forget her, in what capacity are you asking?” His eyes lingered on my chest for a few seconds. His Adam’s apple bobbed. I blushed. “As your girlfriend?” I hooked my arms around his neck and whispered in his ear. “Be my boyfriend, okay?” Sebastian chuckled low in his throat. Clearly, I’d pressed the right buttons. “Beg me.” “Beg me, and I’ll say yes.” His eyes were dark as he gripped my waist. Tighter. It hurt so much I teared up. I bit my lip, crying prettily, just like I practiced. “Please.” A woman’s tears are an aphrodisiac. The harder you cry, the more excited they get. The System taught me that, too. Sure enough, the fire in Sebastian’s eyes roared to life. He threw me onto the bed, his voice rough. “You asked for this.” As he started stripping, I panic-messaged the System in my head. [Hey! Don’t you dare look!] A cold scoff echoed in my brain. What did that mean? He didn’t care to look? Good. They say the first time you sleep together boosts the score massively. I watched a half-naked Sebastian, calculating how many points I’d get tomorrow. Suddenly—THUD. Sebastian hit the floor. Dead. Me: ? I stared in disbelief. I scrambled backward, my voice trembling. [Sys… System?] [What happened to him?!] A beat of silence. Then, a lazy voice in my head: [My hand slipped.] 2 The System’s name is Chase. He spent years teaching me how to bag the hero, step by step. Because of one “slip of the hand,” he took over the male lead’s position, wearing Sebastian’s face. His explanation? “The hero is gone. Someone has to fill the role.” So, he filled it. And now, I have to seduce him. I sat in the corner of the CEO’s office, clutching my skirt so hard it wrinkled. I didn’t dare speak. Why? I was terrified. Yesterday, he waved his hand and Sebastian’s corpse turned into pixels and dissolved into thin air. If I annoyed him, would he delete me too? … Chase finished his work quickly. He tossed the file onto the desk and looked up lazily, looking bored. “Begin.” It was obvious what I had to begin. There are many ways to raise affection scores, but physical intimacy is the most efficient. I hesitated for two seconds, staring at his perfectly shaped lips, and made up my mind. I put my hands on his shoulders, closed my eyes, and kissed him. He didn’t push me away, but he didn’t kiss back either. His lips were cold. I kissed him clumsily, putting in way too much effort. After what felt like half an hour, I still hadn’t heard the notification sound for increased affection. Confused, I opened my eyes—and looked straight into Chase’s. Dark, mocking, amused. Like a hunter watching prey struggle. He hadn’t closed his eyes the entire time. My blood ran cold. We stared at each other, and I froze, unsure if I should stop or keep going. He pushed me away, wiping a smudge of blood from his lip where I’d accidentally bitten him. His tone was loose, careless. “Ivy, I’m not Sebastian.” “The tricks you used on him won’t work on me.” “Go home. Think of a better strategy, then come back.” 3 I spent days thinking. Chase doesn’t like aggressive girls. So, he must like the pure, innocent type. I put on a modest white knee-length dress and went to the gala to find him. The hall was packed, glasses clinking, people chatting. I didn’t need to search. He was a natural protagonist. Standing in the center of the crowd, his aura was elegant and imposing. Impossible to ignore. I started walking toward him, but someone blocked my path. Sophia. She swirled a glass of wine in her right hand. She stepped up beside me, her lips curling into a vicious sneer. “Ivy, Sebastian is mine.” I didn’t care who the male lead belonged to. But when I saw her loosening her grip on the wine glass and grabbing my hand to pull herself backward… I knew she was framing me. It was a blind spot for the cameras. It would be her word against mine. In a crisis, I instinctively looked for Chase. He used to help me with everything. Luckily, he looked over right at that moment. Unluckily, he looked amused. He watched me with a smile that screamed I don’t care. My heart sank. I remembered what Chase told me. When he took over the body, he inherited Sebastian’s affection scores. Sebastian’s score for Sophia was 65. For me, it was 60. Chase is a System. He exists to execute rules. Rules are everything. So, he wouldn’t help me. … I had to save myself. In a split second, before Sophia’s glass hit the floor, I grabbed her arm and yanked. I used the momentum to throw myself down. Glass shattered. Shards pierced my calf. Cutting skin, embedding into flesh. It hurt like hell. “Ah!” People gasped. Heads turned. 4 I hit the floor hard, landing right in the debris. Red wine mixed with blood, staining my white dress. The shards felt like razor blades scraping my skin. Burning, stinging pain. Blood trickled down to my ankle and dripped onto the floor. The crowd gathered. These were heavy hitters—titans of industry, new money elites. I saw shock, disgust, and condemnation on their faces… directed at Sophia. Good. If I hadn’t pulled that move, they would be looking at me like that. After all, Sophia is the heiress of the Su Group. I couldn’t afford to be accused of hurting her. Chase walked over. His voice was cold. “What happened?” I had to admit, his acting was flawless. If I didn’t know he wasn’t Sebastian, I’d never have guessed. People rushed to explain the situation to him. Accusing eyes, sharp as knives, fell on Sophia. She panicked, stepping back. “It wasn’t me! I didn’t do it! “It was her! She framed me! She did it on purpose! “Sebastian, you have to believe me, I didn’t push her!” She grabbed Chase’s sleeve, tears welling up in her eyes. Pitiful. Chase looked at me calmly. I don’t know why—maybe intuition—but I sensed he wasn’t happy. His eyes were deep, like a freezing pool of water. Afraid he might side with Sophia, I bit my pale lip, letting my eyes turn red and misty. I looked at him with pure grievance. “Sebastian, don’t blame Sophia. She didn’t mean to. “I… I just lost my balance. Don’t worry about me. “I… I can get up.” I frowned in pain and tried to stand, but my leg gave out. I collapsed back onto the glass. Shards dug deeper. Blood flowed faster. The pain forced actual tears from my eyes. Chase let out a scoff. A mocking smile played on his lips. His voice was unhurried. “Ivy.” “You’re quite clever, aren’t you?” He shook off Sophia’s hand and picked me up. ? I froze. He called me clever? And he’s holding me? Is his affection for me higher than Sophia’s now? I felt a surge of joy. But the next second, my face froze. [Chase’s Affection: -5.] 5 The score was only 60. Now it’s 55. My heart went cold. The score is literally my lifeline. I need 100 to leave this world. The only good news is that scores fluctuate with emotions. The sooner I act, the easier it is to fix. There’s still a chance! … Chase once told me that if the target’s score is over 50 and drops, the most effective remedy is a kiss. The more intense, the faster the recovery. I looked at him desperately. “Can you lower your head?” “No,” Chase said, turning the corner toward the exit. Denied. I didn’t care about the pain anymore. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him frantically. I pried his lips open, demanding a response. I was so rough I tasted iron. Chase’s eyes were cold. He didn’t resist. He even stopped walking to let me do it. I stared into his eyes, kissing him for a full minute. No notification sound. The longer I kissed, the colder I felt. I bit his lip hard. Eventually, the kissing turned into sobbing against his mouth. It’s not working. I can’t seduce him. He lied. “Ahhh! Ivy Shen—” “You slut!” “Get your dirty mouth off him! Don’t touch my Sebastian! Let him go!” Sophia was screaming in the distance, shaking with rage. Everyone was watching us. I didn’t care about them. I only cared about the points. And it was obvious. The points weren’t coming back. I stopped struggling. I let go of Chase, limp with despair. The pain in my leg came rushing back like a tide, burning and throbbing. If I can’t seduce Chase, I can’t leave. If I can’t leave, what’s the point? Maybe I should just buy some pills and end it all. I thought numbly. But the moment the thought formed, it was interrupted. [Chase’s Affection: +5.]

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When the parents of the Male Lead came to the orphanage to adopt, they had a choice. Between the chatty, golden-retriever-energy Female Lead and the quiet, reserved me. They chose me. Suddenly, floating text—like a live stream chat—drifted across my vision. [They picked the mute, fragile side character because she seems easier? Little do they know the Heroine is the only one who can truly save the Male Lead!] [The Male Lead is actually a snake-shifter. He was hurt by humans as a kid, so he became dark and withdrawn. Doesn’t even speak.] [This side character is useless. She tried to suck up to him, but the moment she saw his true form, she cried like a baby.] [Just wait. Once the parents return her for being defective, our cute, chatty Heroine will take the stage!] Snake? I am terrified of snakes. Urged by his parents, the Male Lead hugged me with a blank expression. I was trembling so hard I blurted out, “N-no…” His eyes suddenly lit up. He put on a heartbroken act. “Do you hate me too? Figures. Once people see what I really am, no one likes me…” I squeezed my eyes shut and hugged him back, shaking. “N-no, I… I really like Big Brother.” The floating chat exploded. [Why isn’t he acting all depressed and emo?] [OMG the side character baby is so scared it’s cute! She was literally frightened into speaking!] [The Male Lead has said more words in the last minute than in his entire life just to coax her into talking.] 1 When the prospective parents came to the orphanage, I was quietly massaging the Director’s back. At the Director’s signal, I poured two cups of hot tea and handed them over. Before they could speak, I shyly hid behind the Director. The Mom’s eyes lit up. She started hitting the Dad’s shoulder excitedly. “She’s so good! So well-behaved! This is exactly the daughter I imagined!” The Dad patted her hand soothingly. “Okay, okay, I know. But we have to ask her first.” He looked at me kindly. “Sweetie, how old are you?” My face turned red, and I twisted the hem of my shirt helplessly. The Mom started hitting the Dad again, suppressing a squeal. “So cute~” The Director stepped in to save me. “To be honest, Penny is a good child. Everyone here loves her. It’s just… she can’t speak.” The parents looked at each other, surprised. My heart sank. I lowered my head. Many people had wanted to adopt me before. But once they found out I was mute, they all gave up. This time would be the same. Just then, a commotion erupted in the hallway. The door banged open. A teacher rushed in, trying to catch a girl with twin ponytails. “Mia! You little rascal! Give Charlie his hearing aid back!” The girl stuck out her tongue and grinned. “Hi Auntie, hi Uncle, hi Director!” Then she zoomed off again. Rows of text floated across my vision. [Our cute little demon spawn Heroine is here!] [The parents still prefer the quiet mute girl, but the Heroine is the real soulmate who can save the Male Lead.] [The Heroine gets the Male Lead to talk using just a stinky sock! The parents were so happy.] [Hurry up and ditch the useless side character! Take our baby Heroine home!] Reading the text, a sour feeling spread in my chest. These “comments” started appearing about two weeks ago. I was slowly understanding what they meant. Apparently, I was in a story where everyone loved the main character, and I was just cannon fodder. The comments loved comparing me to Mia. Using her liveliness to highlight my dullness. The Director spoke up. “If your son is withdrawn, it might be better to choose a livelier girl to keep him company. I worry Penny might not meet your expectations.” The parents fell silent. I stared at my toes. I was used to this. The Director was just worried I’d be returned if I didn’t fit in, which would only hurt more. The parents huddled together and whispered. Then the Mom made a decision. “So what if she can’t speak? My son doesn’t speak either.” “Exactly. Like father, like son. If we like Penny this much, our son won’t be too bad.” “Worst case, the whole family learns sign language! It’s a new skill!” The Director paused, a look of relief in his eyes. He bent down to look at me, smiling kindly. “So, Penny, would you like to go home with this Auntie and Uncle?” The parents looked nervous. I looked at them, eyes red, and nodded. 2 As soon as we got in the car, Mom hugged me and kissed my cheek. “Yay! I finally have a daughter!” Dad chuckled as he drove. “Hehe, finally don’t have to stare at that bratty son all day.” My face burned. I didn’t dare look at them. Mom… smelled so good. Their house was huge. Beautiful. The housekeeper had a table full of food ready. It was still steaming when we arrived. Sitting at the table was a boy in a white shirt. His features were as exquisite as a painting. Mom and Dad happily pulled me forward to introduce us. The boy glanced at me indifferently, then stood up without a word and went upstairs. The floating text got lively. [The Male Lead is definitely disappointed. The side character is nothing like the sister he wanted.] [He wanted a cute, bubbly girl like Chibi Maruko-chan.] [This girl is too gloomy. She looks like she’s scheming.] [The parents are busy and don’t have time for him. The house is already cold enough.] [Finally gets a sister, and she’s a mute. Of course he’s disappointed.] I froze. My chest felt tight, my eyes stung. It… it’s okay… Afraid of crying and upsetting Mom and Dad, I held it back desperately. It’s normal for a brother to want a better sister… I understand. Mom patted my head apologetically. “Brother has always been shy. Don’t mind him, Penny. It’ll be better once you get to know each other.” Dad said angrily, “So rude. I’ll teach him a lesson later. Penny, are you hungry? Let’s eat first.” Mom added, “Yeah, look, are there any dishes you like?” I looked up and forced a smile at them. Mom and Dad were really gentle… Even if I get sent back later, I want to cherish every day with them. 3 Even though my new brother disliked me, the food was amazing. How could every single dish be so delicious?! I was timid at first, only taking small bites of the dishes and shoveling rice. But Mom and Dad kept putting food in my bowl. “Honey, look at Penny eat. Like a little hamster. So cute.” “I know, right? Watching her makes me hungry.” “Hehe, I’m gonna take a picture and send it to that brat. Make him jealous.” “I’m posting it to the family group chat to make everyone envious!” Thinking I might be sent back tomorrow and never eat this well again… I fought back the sadness, grabbed a drumstick in one hand and a spoon in the other, and went to town! That night, lying in the soft, fragrant bed. I burped happily. Just as I was drifting off, I opened my eyes. In the moonlight, I saw a small black snake on my pillow. It lifted its head, looking at me curiously. My face went pale. I hid under the covers, shaking. Text floated by. [Hehe, is the Male Lead trying to scare her away?] [His true form is a snake. Humans hurt him when he was little, so he became dark and mute.] [This side character is useless. Wanted to suck up to him but cried as soon as she saw the snake.] [If the Heroine hadn’t been picked by that infertile couple two days ago, the side character wouldn’t even be here.] [It’s okay. Once she gets returned, our chaotic demon king Heroine will take her place! Hahaha~] I shook even harder. The text meant— This… this snake… Is my brother? Director Grandpa, I want to go home!!! 4 At breakfast. I was on pins and needles. But I didn’t see my brother the whole time. My nerves finally relaxed. I racked my brain trying to avoid him. Even going to the bathroom was a stealth mission. I held it until I couldn’t anymore. First, I’d crack the door open. Check for “brother” activity. Then tiptoe out. Done. Sprint back to my room. Lying in bed, I wiped the cold sweat from my forehead. Safe. Didn’t see the snake. To stop him from slithering under the door, I blocked the gap with books before bed. Windows locked tight. I played it safe for days and didn’t see him. I secretly breathed a sigh of relief. But living under the same roof, this couldn’t last. Sure enough, two days later, Mom and Dad brought him to me. To show family unity, they almost forced him to hug me. My face turned red, but I couldn’t refuse. I couldn’t speak, and I didn’t want to make them sad. Mom and Dad stood at the bottom of the stairs, beaming with expectation. Urged by them, my brother walked up the stairs expressionlessly, bent down, and opened his arms. I was shaking, so scared I blurted out, “N-no…” His eyes suddenly lit up. Like he found something interesting. He studied me for a long time. Then he leaned in and whispered. His voice was raspy, like he hadn’t used it in ages. “You can talk?” I clamped my mouth shut and shook my head frantically. He looked at me, a strange light in his eyes. The chat was shocked. [I’m more surprised than the Male Lead. She can talk?] [Why didn’t she speak before?] [Did you guys forget? She could always talk. She just had psychological trauma.] [Her mom had her out of wedlock, then remarried. Hid her in the basement so the new husband wouldn’t know. Forbade her to make a sound.] [One time she got scared by a rat and cried. The husband found out and dumped the mom.] [The mom blamed her, said she ruined her happiness, and dumped her at the orphanage.] [Since then, she never spoke. She thought her mom abandoned her because she made noise.] [She’s a pitiful baby too.] Reading the text, I lowered my head. Nose stinging, eyes burning. But I held it in.

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“If you could live your life over, would you still marry your wife?” “No.” That was the answer Zeke Crawford, age 47, gave during a media interview. Overnight, it went viral. The marriage I had carefully nurtured for twenty years, the greatest achievement of my life, was shattered into a ridiculous farce by that single word. Trapped and humiliated, I was contemplating my next move when a car crash sent us hurtling back in time, back to the year we first met. I was 24. We were at a formal meeting arranged by our families, a prelude to a merger-masquerading-as-marriage. Suddenly, Zeke stood up, cutting his mother off mid-sentence. “I’m sorry, Miss Astor,” he said, his voice firm, “but I have a girlfriend. We’re done here.” My expression didn’t flicker. As he turned and strode toward the door, I called out to his retreating back. “Then, Mr. Crawford, I suppose this is goodbye for good.” His footsteps faltered for a fraction of a second. He didn’t turn around. He just quickened his pace and walked out of my life. 01 My new morning routine began with yoga in the courtyard, followed by feeding the koi in our pond. After a slow, leisurely breakfast, I finally picked up my phone. As expected, it was flooded with messages. Inquiries, expressions of concern, morbid curiosity, and of course, those who were just here to watch the spectacle unfold. I knew this would happen the moment Zeke’s interview aired last night. It wasn’t surprising. As a titan in the world of high finance, his personal conduct had always been an anomaly. He didn’t smoke or drink, never gambled, and steered clear of scandals. In every public appearance, at every event, the only woman the cameras ever captured by his side was me, his legitimate wife. Over time, the legend of Zeke Crawford and his devoted wife became a celebrated tale in our circle—a story of deep love and perfect harmony. But now, on the cusp of fifty, he had personally confessed to the world that our two decades of marriage were, for him, a source of profound regret. What a regret, indeed. 02 After two days, with neither of the involved parties making a statement, the media frenzy began to die down. But Zeke never offered me a single word of explanation. It seemed my feelings weren’t a factor in his considerations. For a woman of my standing, being tactful and understanding the bigger picture were basic requirements. I had always played my part perfectly. But now, a rebellious spark I hadn’t felt in years ignited within me. In the car on the way to a gala, I was the one to break the heavy silence. “It’s Gwen, isn’t it?” I kept my voice even. “She’s back, so you’re desperate to prove something.” He was reviewing a financial report. At my words, the index finger resting on his tailored trousers curled involuntarily. It was a minuscule movement, but after years of sharing a life, I knew it was a tell. He was guilty. So it really was Gwen. What a romantic fool he was. The ghost of a first love, a flame that had burned in his heart for so many years, undying and brilliant. And me? I wasn’t even a bloodstain on the wall. Just a decorative piece, a wife he’d married out of familial duty. He heard my soft, derisive laugh and finally turned to face me. “Ari, don’t overthink it. This has nothing to do with anyone else.” God, I hated that placid, unreadable face of his. It made everything I did, everything I felt, seem like a childish tantrum. “You’re right,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “She’s not just anyone. She’s the love of your life. My mistake, for being the placeholder for twenty years.” His brow furrowed, and he let out a sigh of weary resignation. He placed his large, warm hand over mine, a classic maneuver to deflect and pacify. “If you’re not feeling up to it, we can go home. We don’t have to attend the gala tonight.” But I was done being placated. “So, it is because of her, isn’t it? Because of Gwen, you can’t even be bothered to grant me the slightest bit of public decency anymore.” “Ariadne! Stop it.” He cut me off, his voice dropping low, laced with annoyance. I knew that tone. When a man starts evading the question, you’ve hit a nerve. But my patience had reached its absolute limit. I ripped my hand from his grasp and, with all the force I could muster, I slapped him across the face. I had wanted to do that for a very, very long time. “Let’s get a divorce, Zeke!” My voice was a raw, ragged thing. “I am so sick and tired of you!” “If there really is a next life, I would never marry you again! I would rather have died at twenty-four than ever have met you!” His head snapped to the side from the unexpected blow. He turned back slowly, his eyes wide with a dazed sort of shock. “What did you just say?” What did I say? Are you deaf? Of course, you’re an expert at playing deaf and dumb. It didn’t matter anymore. We were getting a divorce. An end to this absurd, laughable marriage. You don’t have to wait for the next life, Zeke. In this one, you can finally be with whoever you want. … “Watch out!” … CRUNCH! … The last thing I remember before darkness took me was the image of Zeke lunging toward me. It was seared into my memory because I had never, ever seen such a vivid, terrified expression on his face. So much so that when I awoke at that fateful meeting at age 24, my first instinct was to ask him: Why? When death was upon us, why did you throw yourself in front of me? 03 But Zeke moved faster than my thoughts could form. He shot to his feet, interrupting his mother’s carefully prepared introduction. His deep-set eyes found mine across the table. “I’m sorry, Miss Astor, but I have a girlfriend. We’re done here.” With that, he turned and walked away, leaving both our families sitting in stunned, humiliated silence. I knew, in that instant. He was back, too. Fate was truly kind to him. Handsome, wealthy. And now, a second chance at life. I laughed at myself, at my own foolish sentimentality. And I laughed because, thanks to him, I was 24 again. Just before he reached the door, I called out to him. “Then, Mr. Crawford, I suppose this is goodbye for good.” He paused for a beat, but didn’t look back. He just walked out. This time, he would go find his one true love. And I… I would finally live for myself—wildly, passionately, and freely. No longer would I be the one to trade my ambitions for an apron. No longer the dutiful wife of Mr. So-and-so. And never again would I be a beautiful, docile accessory on a man’s arm. 04 With my life reset, my days became a whirlwind of fulfilling activity. I was busy prepping my application for Oxford, busy launching my own artisanal coffee shop. Busy raising a dog and taking my cat for walks. Freed from the rush to marry, I discovered the vast, liberating world outside the gilded cage. In that first year, Zeke and I never crossed paths. I didn’t seek out news of him, but our world was small. The same people, the same stories, always circling back. I heard he followed Gwen to the States. I heard his father, the patriarch of the Crawford family, was furious and stripped him of all his positions at the family corporation. I heard he returned with Gwen and started his own investment firm. And I heard he was planning a grand proposal. Good for him. The difference between being loved and not being loved was starkly, painfully obvious. 05 Gwen had been coming to my coffee shop for several days in a row. Each time, she would order a single cup and sit for hours at a corner table by the window. I could occasionally feel her gaze on me, sizing me up. But the 24-year-old Ariadne Astor had no reason to know a Gwen. If she wasn’t going to make the first move, I wasn’t going to acknowledge her. She was, after all, paying customer. On the fifth day, during a quiet afternoon, she finally approached the counter. She tapped her manicured nails on the polished wood. “Miss Astor. We need to talk.” The last person who spoke to me with that tone was my boss during my internship. She certainly had my attention. I raised an eyebrow, but my hands didn’t stop polishing a glass. “Have a seat. I’ll be with you in a moment.” A few minutes later, I brought a freshly brewed coffee over to her table. “Try this. It’s a unique blend, not on the menu. You might like it.” She looked surprised. “You know who I am?” Of course I did. In our previous life, I had probably spent more time secretly looking at the photograph of her tucked away in Zeke’s books than he ever did. I knew about the tiny, almost invisible mole above her left eyebrow. I nodded and pointed to my own eyes. “You’ve been sitting in that exact spot for five days.” She gave a tight smile, taking a sip of the coffee to hide her awkwardness. Her brow furrowed, and she quickly put the cup down. It was probably too bitter for her. She dispensed with the pleasantries. Reaching into her designer bag, she pulled out a checkbook, wrote out a blank check, and slid it across the table. “Name your price, Miss Astor. To stay away from Zeke.” I was speechless. Her methods were surprisingly similar to Zeke’s. I picked up the check with both hands, studying it with mock seriousness. Since she was offering, it would be rude to refuse. Now, what number to write… I picked up the pen and scribbled a string of digits, then pushed it back to her. It wasn’t that much. Zeke would just have to work a little harder. As I recalled, in about five years, he should be able to afford it. In twenty years, he could probably multiply it by a hundred. 06 Her face darkened as she read the number on the check. “Miss Astor, your appetite is a little… excessive, don’t you think?” I feigned innocence. “Is it? I thought it was rather reasonable.” “A hundred million dollars! You have some nerve!” She was so easily shocked. “I’d have the nerve to ask for a billion, too.” My gaze rested on her beautiful, delicate face. She was undeniably stunning, with an air of defiant confidence. I picked up my own cup and took a slow, appreciative sip. She had no idea what she was missing. I rarely brought out beans of this quality. Not because they were expensive, but because the yield was incredibly low. In my last life, Zeke had been a coffee aficionado with a ridiculously picky palate. Nothing bought from a store ever met his standards. I spent years studying his preferences, experimenting with hundreds of beans from different origins, and adjusting the roasting methods countless times. Finally, one day, I earned a single nod of approval from him. For the next twenty years, brewing his coffee became my daily ritual. Thinking of the past left a bitter taste in my mouth. I had no energy to play games with the woman in front of me anymore. “You should go,” I said flatly. “I have nothing to do with Zeke Crawford. We had one disastrous arranged meeting where he made it clear he wasn’t interested in me.” Her composure cracked. “Don’t play dumb with me, Miss Astor!” she snapped. “If there’s nothing between you, then why does he call out your name when he’s drunk?” “I don’t know when you two got involved, but I suggest you show some self-respect. Zeke and I have been together for four years. We are getting married.” I… I must have owed Zeke a cosmic debt. A lifetime of servitude clearly wasn’t enough; he had to come back and ruin this one, too. 07 Zeke arrived just as Gwen and I were locked in a standoff. “Miss Astor, the coffee here is terrible. I’m surprised you’re still in business.” I leaned back, a lazy smile on my face, and spread my hands. “If you cash that check you wrote me, I won’t have to worry about being in business at all.” My casual amusement must have provoked her. In a dramatic gesture, she snatched her coffee cup and flung its contents at me. I narrowed my eyes, bracing for impact. I really shouldn’t have given her so much face. But the scalding liquid never hit me. Zeke appeared out of nowhere, throwing himself in front of me, taking the full force of the splash. The hot, dark coffee streamed down his hair and dripped from the lapels of his expensive suit. In this life and the last, it was the first time I had ever seen him look so utterly disheveled. But I felt no gratitude. This whole mess was his fault to begin with. If he hadn’t intervened, my vengeful nature would have ensured I returned the favor tenfold. Gwen was even more shocked than I was. The moment Zeke appeared, she shot up from her seat. “Zeke, what are you doing?” she shrieked. “Why would you block that for her? Are you insane?” “What is going on between you two?” She crossed her arms, ignoring the mess dripping all over him, her furious gaze darting between us, searching for any sign of collusion. See? Zeke always had a way of driving the women around him mad. It used to be me. Now it was her. Only this time, it had nothing to do with me. The person who needed to explain and clarify was not me. I pushed my chair back with a look of distaste and took several steps away. I had someone bring Zeke a clean towel and then prepared to leave. I had been given a second chance, and I had no intention of getting entangled in their drama again. “Ariadne, don’t you dare leave! You explain yourself!” Gwen yelled, losing her composure as I started to walk away. My face went cold, and I shot her a look as sharp as a blade. “Have I been too polite to you? So much so that you’ve forgotten your place? Your man’s issues are none of my business.” My voice dropped. “You should be grateful that coffee didn’t touch me.” … “Enough!” Zeke’s sharp reprimand cut through the tension. He pressed his fingers to his temple. It was an old habit, a stress-induced migraine that flared up when he was overworked or agitated. In our last life, I had spent years seeking out specialists and even learned therapeutic massage techniques from a master practitioner just to help him find relief. He seemed to remember it, too. His eyes met mine for a fleeting second before he quickly looked away. I guessed he felt a pang of guilt. “Ariadne, I’m sorry. Could you please give us a moment?” He then gestured to the empty cup on the table. “And could you bring another coffee, the same as this one?” I gave him a withering look. “Sorry, that blend isn’t on the menu.” And sorry, I’m not serving you. If you think you’re drinking coffee made by my hands in this lifetime, you can dream on. 08 Gwen wanted to continue the argument, but Zeke took her by the hand and gently pushed her back into the booth. I had to admire his patience, sitting there covered in coffee stains while he calmed her down. A part of me laughed bitterly at the woman I used to be. I don’t know what he said to her, but after shooting me a few more dirty looks, she grabbed her bag and stormed out. I idly flicked the paw of the little lucky cat figurine on the counter. Zeke came over to pay. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low. “I never expected she would find you here. She’s still young, a bit impulsive… don’t take it to heart.” I paused, momentarily confused by his words. When I understood, I was almost speechless. I shrugged nonchalantly. “If you can get her to cash that check, I won’t mind at all.” He stood across from me, his posture impeccable, his lips pressed into a thin line. The aura of authority he commanded seemed at odds with his youthful, 24-year-old face. Just when I thought the conversation was over, he let out an almost imperceptible sigh. “Ariadne, if you ever need help, I can…” “I don’t.” I cut him off, my patience wearing thin. “Your girlfriend is waiting outside. I suggest you handle this. I don’t want to see either of you in my shop again.” For a moment, I thought I saw a flash of hurt in his eyes. I must have been mistaken. He was always invincible. No one could hurt him, least of all me—someone he never cared about. “Alright,” he finally said, and with a steady gait, he left. 09 After months of focused effort, my IELTS results came back. A score of 8. I submitted my application to the University of Oxford. In my last life, I had walked into the gilded cage of marriage at a young age. Zeke said he wanted a supportive wife, so I dutifully turned down every job offer, dedicating myself entirely to managing his life. To me, building a strong marriage and a good home was a noble pursuit, just as it had been for my mother. I naturally assumed that even in an arranged marriage, love could grow. Or, more accurately, that I could make him fall in love with me. But I forgot that a canary, no matter how prized, is destined to live in a cage, admired at the owner’s whim. Fed when he’s pleased, ignored when he’s not. It has no other value, no chance to fly free. When my parents learned of my plans, they were surprised by my transformation, but since it was a positive change, they were supportive. My brother was handling the family business, so they didn’t need me. As for the marriage alliance, a delay of a few years wasn’t a problem. Perhaps with a degree from Oxford, I could secure an even better match. My family loved me. But their love always came with a price tag attached. I wasn’t sad about it. I had, after all, enjoyed the luxurious life they provided. While waiting for a response from the university, I poured all my energy into the coffee shop. This little place wasn’t worth much in their eyes, but to me, it was a testament to my own value.

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When I was a kid, playing deep in the old woods behind our house, I heard a scream. It didn’t sound like an animal. It sounded like a soul being torn apart. My dad grabbed me, dragging me toward the tree line. “Don’t look back! Just run!” “It’s coming out!” I asked him what was coming out. He shook his head, his face pale. “No one knows its name. Everyone who sees it dies.” Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks. I looked up and saw a pair of massive, pale hands covered in white fur resting on my dad’s shoulders. My dad screamed one last thing: “Run!” Then those hands dragged him backward into the darkness of the treeline. Twenty years later, I built a hunting team to go back into those woods. 1 “Everyone who sees it dies.” That voice, intimate yet terrifying, echoed in my ears. I spun around in the pitch-black space, trying to find the source. But there was nothing but a vortex of darkness, wrapping around my fear and grief, suffocating me. A familiar sensation crept up behind me. I turned and saw a massive hand dragging a silhouette into the abyss. I couldn’t see the face, but I saw the shoes. Blue and white Nikes. They stabbed into my heart like a knife. I ran forward, desperate. But the figure was dragged further away, disappearing into the void. I screamed for him not to leave me. The only answer was silence. I tried to chase him, but a piercing shriek froze me in place. “Run!” I stood paralyzed. In the endless dark ahead, two blood-red eyes snapped open. My heart spasmed violently. I felt like I was dying. Those red eyes got closer. A pale hand, covered in white fur, reached out from the shadows. I screamed, “No!” The next second, I jolted awake in my bed, my back drenched in cold sweat. It took minutes for the trembling to stop. That scene from when I was eight years old had haunted me for two-thirds of my life. Every few days, I dreamed of it. My dad’s last cry for help. For twenty years, I didn’t have the courage to face those woods. Even passing by a cluster of trees made me feel like those red eyes were watching, waiting for me to step in. It shouldn’t have been him. It should have been me. I spent twenty years researching what It was. Folklore varied. Some called it a Devil Monkey, others a Wendigo, or a Skinwalker. But like my dad said: “No one knows its name. Everyone who sees it dies.” No. That wasn’t entirely accurate. My dad traded his life for mine. I became the first person to see it and live. Records of the creature went back over a hundred years. A group of trappers went into the deep woods. Only the guy left at the base camp survived. He heard a scream, and then his friends’ heads were tossed out of the tree line. It became a local legend. Hunting parties were formed, but for decades, nothing was found. It vanished as if it never existed. Then, in the late 90s, it reappeared. A group of hikers. The guide went to take a leak, heard a scream, and came back to five bloody corpses. The forest rangers searched for two weeks and found nothing. The third time it appeared, it took my dad. I told the police, but they found no trace. But a plan had been brewing in my mind for twenty years. I got out of bed, stood by the window, and made a call. “Is the team ready?” “This time, it’s not getting away.” 2 “This is Sarge. That’s Dutch.” My best friend, Mike, introduced me to the two men. They were veteran hunters, ex-military. I paid a fortune to get them. They had survival skills that could keep them alive in hell. They only agreed when I put fifty grand on the table. The woods were a remote branch of the Appalachian Mountains. Rarely visited, except by a few locals living off the grid. My dad had taken me there for a distant relative’s funeral all those years ago. It took us a full day of travel to reach the village on the edge of the forest. The old village head welcomed us, but when he heard what we were after, he turned pale. “Son, listen to me. Don’t go in there.” “That thing takes lives. Everyone who sees it dies.” My voice was low. “I know you mean well, Uncle. But I have to go. I saw it when I was a kid. It took my father.” The old man paused, frowning deeply. “Son, leave now. That thing… it can smell you. It might come down the mountain tonight just to finish the job.” That was a new detail. Inside his cabin, the village head told us what he knew. No one knew exactly what it was. It looked like an ape, but its scream was unearthly. Its bite force was stronger than a bear or a tiger. People found in the past had their skulls crushed. It usually stayed dormant unless something woke it up. But again, no survivors meant no details. As for the smell? A few years ago, a group of poachers went up in winter, looking for easy fur. They heard the scream. They tried to retreat, but one by one, they were picked off. Only one old poacher made it down. He claimed he saw it—huge, pale hands. Hands strong enough to snap a neck like a twig. He thought he was safe. The next morning, the villagers found a hole in his roof. The poacher was gone. They found him that afternoon by a creek. His head was crushed. Giant prints surrounded the body. Rumor had it the creature fled because the police brought heavy firepower. Sarge and Dutch exchanged a look. “This thing sounds supernatural.” I looked at them. “You can back out now. I won’t force you.” Sarge shook his head. “I’m in. My mom needs surgery, and this money saves her.” Dutch shrugged. “I need the cash for my wedding. I’m in.” Seeing he couldn’t stop us, the village head went to his shed and came back with two sticks of old mining explosives. “Leftover from when they blasted the road years ago. Don’t know if they still work, but take ’em. If you can kill that thing, we can all sleep easier.” I thanked him. That night, the creature didn’t come for me. But none of us slept well. The next morning, under a heavy fog, we stepped into the woods. 3 “Fog’s thick. Stay close,” Sarge ordered, taking point. “Don’t get more than ten feet apart.” Dutch took the rear, armed with a compound crossbow and two combat knives. If something jumped us, the crossbow was silent and deadly. Mike and I were in the middle, carrying jagged triangular bayonets—military surplus. Nasty things. One stab leaves a wound that doesn’t close. We walked for ten minutes. The fog got thicker. The forest was dead silent. It felt like walking into the mouth of a sleeping beast. Sarge slowed down, tightening the formation. Nothing happened for the first half-hour. We found a clearing to rest. Sarge looked around, frowning. “Something’s wrong. This place… it ain’t right.” Dutch nodded. Mike and I were confused. We were street fighters, not woodsmen. Sarge explained. “A forest this deep shouldn’t be this quiet. Birds, bugs, small game… there should be noise. Deer, boars, badgers—they aren’t usually this scared of humans because nobody comes out here.” “But it’s dead silent. That usually means one of two things.” “One: A natural disaster is coming. Fire, flood, quake. Animals sense it and bolt.” “Two: This is the territory of an apex predator. Something so terrifying that everything else cleared out.” We all leaned toward option two. It meant It was nearby. We sat back-to-back, weapons drawn, listening. Usually, a predator would have attacked by now. A tiger or bear would smell us entering their turf immediately. The fact that we hadn’t been attacked yet was unnerving. It meant the thing was smart. Cunning. After a while, we moved on. As we approached a creek, Sarge stopped again. Still silent. No animals drinking. That was terrifying. It meant this thing was the absolute ruler here. Nothing dared to even take a sip of water. Sarge bent down, examining something on the ground. It was a shard of bone. But it looked carved. Like a knife. Why would a bone knife be this deep in the woods? 4 “What the hell?!” Mike screamed. We spun around to see him hanging upside down in the air. A snare trap. Hidden perfectly in the leaves. I rushed forward with my knife to cut him down. “Wait!” Dutch hissed. “We’ve got company.” I looked around. Figures emerged from the mist. Men painted in camouflage made of mud and crushed plants. They stared at us with hostile eyes. Their voices were guttural, their English broken and archaic. “Leave. You. Go.” “Not welcome.” I froze. What year was this? Sarge stepped forward, speaking a few words in a dialect I didn’t recognize. Their expressions softened slightly. “Mountain folk,” Sarge whispered to us. “They live off the grid. Old ways.” They weren’t cavemen, just isolated. They traded furs occasionally but kept to themselves. Their camouflage was so good we hadn’t seen them until they moved. There were only about five of them. Probably all the men of their small clan. Sarge spoke to them for a moment, then turned back to us, looking grim. “We have to go. They’re kicking us out. They say the ‘Old One’ told them to catch us.” My head spun. The thing gives orders to humans? It made sense in a twisted way. If they lived here, they had to coexist with it. We cut Mike down and retreated to the edge of their territory, herded by their spears and bone knives. Once we were clear, they vanished back into the foliage. Sarge looked at me. “Boss… they don’t call it a beast. They call it ‘Abaha’.” “Like a god?” I asked. “Yeah. The Mountain God. The Supreme Spirit.” Sarge explained. In these mountains, the old folklore runs deep. Abaha isn’t just a monster; it’s a totem. A deity. To them, its orders are divine law. But Sarge added, “Tribes often call powerful creatures manifestations of gods. A massive tiger might be called the Mountain Lord. Doesn’t mean it’s magic. Just means it’s top of the food chain.” I frowned. “So we can’t hunt it?” Sarge pointed to a ridge in the distance. “We circle around their territory. Over there. We lure the Abaha out. Then we kill it.”

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After my movie star mother was sent to a mental hospital, I was tortured to death by my manipulative “green tea” stepmother. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn… as a four-year-old! On a family reality show, the Green Tea stuffed me into a washing machine to frame my mom. I wailed at the top of my lungs. “The Bad Auntie told me to get in! She said there was a kitty inside! She said she’s gonna be my new mommy and I can’t listen to my old mommy anymore!” The Green Tea tried to shush me, whispering threats. I screamed louder, backing away in terror. “Auntie, I promise I won’t tell the truth anymore! Please don’t kill me!” She stood up in shock, and I threw myself down the stairs. “Mommy! Daddy! Help! Auntie’s threats didn’t work so now she’s trying to silence me for good!” She exploded, trying to explain herself, but literally zero people believed her. [She’s four years old! How could she frame you?] [I swear, if this Green Tea tries to hurt anyone else, I will drag her until she quits the internet!] Watching her get torn apart online, her reputation in tatters, I smiled. Your tricks might work on a toddler, but this time? The tables have turned. 1 “Summer!” Chloe, the Green Tea in question, gritted her teeth. “Look at the camera and think carefully before you speak. Did Auntie tell you to get in, or did your mommy forget you were inside when she started the laundry?!” Seeing Chloe on the verge of a breakdown, I cried even harder. “Waaaah! It was you! You told me to get in! I was scared because Mommy said the washing machine is dangerous, but you said there was a kitty inside! You said you were too big to fit, so I had to save the kitty!” Chloe looked like she was about to explode. She couldn’t understand. She had me wrapped around her finger before. Why was I suddenly not playing along? Not only did I refuse to frame my mom, Scarlett, but I was exposing her right in front of everyone. How could a four-year-old know how to do this? She stomped her foot in frustration. She had no idea that I was reborn. In my past life, Chloe tricked me into climbing into the washing machine, then publicly accused my mom of having postpartum depression and trying to kill me. Four-year-old me didn’t understand anything. I was just scared by the yelling and cried. Chloe took the opportunity to “protect” me in her arms, secretly pinching me to make me nod along with her lies. My mom spiraled into depression because of these setups. She started doubting herself, even engaging in self-harm. My dad tried to protect us, but soon after, Chloe snuck into his room, took compromising photos, and leaked them. After that, my happy family fell apart. Mom had a complete breakdown and was sent to a sanitarium. Dad, under immense public pressure, married Chloe. A year later, I “accidentally” fell and became paralyzed. My life became hell. No outdoors, no friends. Just lying in a dull room, staring at the ceiling, waiting to die. I prayed countless times to go back to the moment I first met Chloe. I swore if I got a second chance, I would tear off her mask and make her suffer a thousand times over. And now, I’m back. Chloe, the show is just beginning. Noticing the commotion, the crew started to gather around. I wailed even louder. “Auntie, I’m sorry! I won’t tell the truth anymore!” “I won’t tell everyone you like my daddy and want to be my new mommy! Please stop pinching me!” Chloe shot up from her chair in rage. I saw my chance and rolled myself down the stairs. “Help! The weird Auntie is trying to kill me because I won’t listen to her!” That scream brought everyone running. My parents, Jason and Scarlett, who were downstairs cooking, rushed up. Mom grabbed me, while Dad, radiating a chill, slapped Chloe hard across the face. “Are you insane?! She’s a child!” Chloe was stunned. “I didn’t! It wasn’t me! She’s framing me!” Mom gritted her teeth, ignoring the cameras, and slapped her twice more. “Why would she frame you? She’s four years old!” Chloe clutched her face, stammering, unable to say a word. In that moment, everything felt right. In my last life, I was too young to understand the dark currents between adults. But now, the one who couldn’t explain herself was finally Chloe. The crew arrived just in time to see me fall as Chloe stood up. They didn’t hesitate to testify for me. The producers were furious and wanted to kick Chloe off the show. At the critical moment, I hugged Chloe’s leg. “Auntie said she didn’t mean to push me. I’m not hurt. Please don’t punish her.” My parents looked at my pitiful face, tears welling up. “Sweetheart, she bullied you so much, and you’re still defending her… oh…” The livestream comments were flooded with praise. [Is this Jason and Scarlett’s daughter? She’s adorable and so kind-hearted! I’m in love.] [Only the children of movie stars could have such great character. I’m a fan!] [I’m watching this show solely to protect Summer. If Chloe hurts her again, I’m rallying the girls to cancel her into oblivion!] Amidst the praise, I looked at the defeated Chloe. “Apologize to me, and we’ll forget about it.” Chloe clenched her fists so hard her nails dug into her palms. But even so, she knew she had to bend. “I’m sorry.” I smiled politely. Seeing me forgive her, no one else pressed the issue. But this sealed her fate. She apologized, which meant she admitted to bullying a child. She bowed to stay on the show, but to the world, that bow was a confession. Chloe would never escape the label of a child abuser. Forevermore, people would remember her as the woman who pushed a kid down the stairs because threats didn’t work. Just thinking about it felt good! 2 The show went on. My parents comforted me, checked for injuries, and went back to cooking. This time, they were smarter. They sat me on a little stool right by the kitchen door. I swung my legs, and soon enough, I spotted a sneaky Chloe. She was holding a beautifully wrapped bento box, smiling at me with sinister intent. Meeting my gaze, she forced her expression into a twisted, ugly smile. “Sweetie, Auntie doesn’t know what I did to make you misunderstand me.” “Look, Auntie made you pudding. Try it. Consider it Auntie’s apology, okay?” I smiled back. It didn’t reach my eyes. “Sure!” I snatched the pudding and ran toward my parents on my short legs. “Look! The weird Auntie made me pudding! Yay! It’s mango flavor!” Hearing “mango,” my parents’ faces went pale. They abandoned the stove and lunged at me. “Don’t eat it! You’re allergic to mango!” I stopped immediately and spat the pudding out obediently. “That’s so weird. The weird Auntie knows I’m allergic. Why did she give it to me?” “Oh my gosh, is she trying to hurt me?” My parents turned green. They unleashed hell on Chloe. “Are you sick in the head?! The production notes clearly state Summer is allergic to mango! Feeding her allergens on purpose? You’re trying to kill her!” “Summer is four! How did a child offend you so much that you’d push her down stairs and then poison her?! If you have a problem with us, come at us! Leave the kid alone!” “Chloe, what the hell is wrong with you?!” Berated by my parents, Chloe pointed a trembling finger at me. “Summer, I never said that was for you! You’re framing me again!” I spread my chubby little hands. “Check the cameras then.” The laundry room didn’t have cameras, so I had to rely on the hallway cam to catch my fall. But the kitchen was on the first floor. Cameras everywhere. Video and audio. Chloe’s arrogance vanished. “Th-there’s a misunderstanding. I bought the pudding. I didn’t know it had mango.” I pouted. “Tch.” “You just said you made it yourself. Do you really think I’m a three-year-old?” The comments went wild. [Four-year-old Summer be like: I’m not a three-year-old.] [Why is a grown woman always trying to hurt Summer? Does she get off on abusing kids? Investigate her!] [Stop laughing guys, allergies can kill. This isn’t a joke.] Everyone held their breath, waiting for my parents’ decision. They looked at me. I nodded seriously. “Since Auntie says I framed her, let’s check. I’m just a kid, I can’t grow up being called a liar.” Chloe’s eyes reddened, on the verge of tears. “Don’t…” Her reaction said it all. The people here were entertainment bigwigs. They weren’t stupid. Someone pulled the footage. Chloe tricking me into eating the pudding was played back in high definition for everyone to see and hear. Chloe was dumbfounded. In my last life, she gave me mango pudding too. Right before dinner. After watching me eat it, she added mango jam to the dessert Mom made. During dinner, I went into anaphylactic shock. Swelling up, suffocating. Everyone investigated. They found mango in Mom’s dessert. Dad was disappointed. The public attacked her. Mom was consumed by guilt. She truly believed she was a bad mother. She spiraled into regret and self-blame, afraid to even touch me after that. It gave Chloe the perfect opening! Thinking of Mom’s broken tears, my heart ached. I buried my face in her chest and sobbed. “Mommy, I’m scared. Will the allergy kill me? I don’t want to die.” Mom held me with one arm, clenched her other fist, stood up, and punched Chloe to the ground. “You animal!” The comments exploded. [That punch was clean! Is this the power of a mother?] [Scarlett’s range just expanded. She can do action movies now!] [Well deserved! Anyone who hurts kids is a psycho. She deserved that beating!] The slap mark on Chloe’s face had just faded, and now it was swelling up again. She was livid! “How dare you hit me!” She looked at my dad, acting fragile. “Jason, look at her. How can she be so violent…” Before she finished, Dad punched her on the other side of her face. “What is your problem? You poison my daughter in front of me and then try to tattle on my wife?” “I don’t hit women or children, but for an animal like you, I’ll make an exception!” I couldn’t help but giggle. The room filled with stifled laughter. Chloe gritted her teeth for a while, then ran off crying. This time, the producers didn’t let it slide. They issued a termination notice. Since it was late, they told her to pack up and leave first thing in the morning. I didn’t argue. I knew Chloe would use the remaining time to pull something else. The tighter the deadline, the more pressure she’d feel, and the more mistakes she’d make. That night, the group dispersed early because of the drama. I deliberately pestered Mom to take me outside to count stars. Soon enough, I saw a thin figure by the hotel corridor window. Someone couldn’t wait. Hook, line, and sinker! “Mommy, let’s go find Daddy!” “Can you start a livestream? I want everyone to see Daddy reading me a bedtime story!” Bedtime stories were our family ritual. Tonight was Dad’s turn. Considering I fell down stairs and almost got poisoned today, Mom didn’t lecture me about privacy. She played along and started the stream. I held the phone, my little legs pumping fast. [Hi brothers and sisters! Want to hear a story with Summer?] The comments praised my parents for spoiling me, asked about my health, and laughed at my precociousness. Soon, I led Mom to quietly ambush Dad’s room. “Mommy, let’s sneak in. We’ll scare Daddy with the fans!” Mom laughed and tiptoed along with me. We snuck to the bedside. I jumped up and slapped the light switch. And there, two million viewers came face-to-face with Chloe, wearing risqué lingerie. In the dead silence, I let out an ear-piercing scream. “Why is the weird Auntie naked?! Why is she wearing bunny ears?! Scary!!” Mom covered my eyes and started kicking Dad, who was in the bed. “Jason! Get up!” Dad swayed but didn’t react. My heart went cold. “Oh no! The weird Auntie killed Daddy!” Mom realized something was wrong and called the medics. Checkup result: Dad was in a coma from an overdose of sleeping pills. And the source of the pills… Everyone looked at Chloe. Chloe was taken away by the police for investigation before she could even explain. A few days later, the results were out. Chloe drugged Dad and stole his key card, planning to create a scandal to force his hand. The news nailed her to the cross of shame. She became the most hated female celebrity of the year. Bar none. Her career was over. Contracts were canceled due to the morality clause. She was drowning in debt. I finally breathed a sigh of relief, hugging my parents tight. In this life, I won’t lose you again.

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I was a nobody in Hollywood, a B-list actress at best. My sugar daddy, however, was Rupert Sterling, the man who could make or break careers in the city with a single phone call. In my past life, I’d been a desperate, dramatic fool. Hired as a stand-in, I’d tried to scheme my way into the leading role, to push out the woman I was meant to imitate. I’d even faked a pregnancy and stormed the Sterling mansion to demand a title, earning his ultimate disgust and losing the shield of his protection. In the end, hunted by my rivals, I met a cold, watery grave in the unforgiving ocean. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn on the exact day I’d tried to force Rupert into a proposal. The very day his affection had first curdled into contempt. “Mr. Sterling, when are we going to…” Rupert’s brow furrowed slightly as he glanced at me. “Going to what?” “Go… go our separate ways! I meant, when are we over?” 1 Rupert said nothing. But the icy mask of his expression seemed to mock me, a silent reminder that I had no right to make that decision. A man born into power, he was used to being in control. Even if he didn’t love me, this relationship was supposed to end on his terms, and his alone. Sensing the dangerous shift in the air, I scrambled to recover. “Kelly Lister is back in town, isn’t she? I’d hate for her to be unhappy seeing someone else by your side.” I was Kelly Lister’s double. In the tabloids, they called me “Little Kelly.” It was this face, a near-perfect copy of hers, that had caught Rupert’s eye all those years ago. Now, the original was back. There was still time to fix things. I would never again fight for his attention or try to sideline the real star. And I would certainly never again be foolish enough to dream of becoming Mrs. Sterling. My new strategy was simple: play the part of the considerate mistress, end things amicably for my benefactor’s sake, and walk away. Who knew? Maybe Rupert, pleased with my good sense, would toss a mansion my way as a parting gift. I looked at him, my eyes wide with manufactured hope. But at the mention of Kelly’s name, Rupert’s expression darkened. “Don’t mention her to me,” he said, his voice laced with ice. Oh, right. At this point in time, Kelly had just returned but hadn’t bothered to contact him. He was simmering with a quiet rage. And I had just walked straight into the line of fire. I quickly bowed my head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Sterling. I overstepped.” His deep, unreadable eyes studied me for a long moment. Seeing my performance of a docile little thing, he let out a short, sharp scoff. “Behave yourself,” he said. “I won’t mistreat you.” Behave yourself was a clear warning: Don’t go near Kelly Lister. As for not mistreating me… that was the truth. Rupert was incredibly generous. He showered me with jewelry and cash without a second thought. Any acting role I wanted, he delivered on a silver platter. The gossip blogs always say, where the money flows, so does the love. That’s why, in my last life, I’d naively believed there was a place for me in his heart. I’d become arrogant, entitled, making enemies everywhere and creating drama at every turn. It all culminated in me showing up at his family’s estate waving a forged pregnancy test. At the time, Rupert was in the middle of a vicious power struggle with his illegitimate half-siblings, and my stunt became a public relations nightmare for him. With that single act, I had exhausted the last shred of his patience. He’d cast me aside completely, revoking his protection. The memory of the bone-chilling water filling my lungs, the suffocating darkness… a violent shiver ran through me. I instinctively burrowed deeper into the solid warmth of Rupert’s chest. “I’ll be good, Mr. Sterling. I promise.” And faking it was easy. If I just locked my heart away and treated him as my boss, what was the difference between this and a regular job? The seven-figure monthly allowance was my salary. The jewelry and designer bags on holidays were my corporate bonuses. His handsome face was just a perk of the work environment. The blockbuster TV shows he funded for me were like company-sponsored MBAs, designed to boost my skills and public profile. And when the day came that Rupert grew tired of me… He was a man of his word. He wouldn’t treat a woman who’d been with him poorly. The breakup fee would be my generous severance package. What a great company! What a great boss! 2 “What are you smiling about?” Rupert’s voice jolted me from my reverie. I realized I’d been grinning like an idiot and quickly schooled my features. “Nothing… I wasn’t smiling.” He gently pushed me away, straightening the collar of his shirt I’d wrinkled. “I’m taking you to a party tonight,” he said. “Dress nicely.” In my past life, this was the night of my first face-to-face battle with Kelly. I had worn a couture gown Rupert had gifted me, only to find Kelly in the exact same one. Her friends had swarmed me, calling me a cheap imitation, a knock-off. I’d lost my temper and started a fight. In the chaos, I’d even pushed Kelly over when she tried to intervene. Rupert had been genuinely furious. He’d given me the silent treatment for a whole month, a month I’d spent in lovesick agony, begging for his forgiveness. This time, I wouldn’t go anywhere near Kelly. It wasn’t that I feared his cold shoulder. It was mostly… that I was afraid he’d cut off my allowance for a month, just like last time. As I was getting ready, I stood before my closet, picking out a dress. That white gown that had caused all the trouble was definitely out. But just as I was about to put it aside, a low voice came from behind me. “Wear that one.” Rupert was standing in the doorway of the walk-in closet. His tone left no room for argument. I had no choice but to obey. When I came out, dressed in the gown, his gaze lingered on me for an unusually long moment. “You look good in white,” he complimented. It just made me look more like Kelly. Hah. Men. The moment we arrived at the party, Rupert was mobbed by a crowd of admirers, leaving me to fend for myself. Bored, I looked for a quiet corner to hide in. But Kelly’s friends found me first. “You have some nerve, wearing the same dress as Kelly. Who do you think you are?” I scratched my ear, pretending I hadn’t heard them. Kelly, however, approached with a gentle smile. “You must be the woman with Rupert, right? This dress is one of only two in the world. It’s priceless. Did he give it to you? He must really like you.” Then she lowered her head, her eyes suddenly welling with tears. If Rupert was my boss, Kelly was the untouchable boss’s wife. Besides, I had no reason to make enemies and repeat my tragic fate. I smiled back. “Ms. Lister, don’t misunderstand. Mr. Sterling specifically told me to wear this dress tonight. I think he brought me here to make you jealous.” Rupert never took me to these events. For him to do so on the very night Kelly was back in town… it was obviously a power play meant to provoke her. I didn’t mind being the pawn that pleased both sides. “Stop with the innocent act!” One of Kelly’s friends shoved me hard. I stumbled backward, crashing into a waiter carrying a tray of drinks. I didn’t fall, but red wine splashed all over my white dress. A good amount of it splattered onto Kelly as well. The scene was ugly. Only now did I realize just how mortifying it had been to get into a public brawl in my past life. Rupert arrived just in time to see the aftermath. The women were huddled around Kelly, comforting her while eagerly throwing me under the bus. “Kelly just happened to be wearing the same dress! Did you have to ruin hers over it?” 3 Rupert shot me a glacial look, then his eyes softened as they landed on Kelly. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she looked utterly fragile. “Rupert, don’t blame her,” she whispered pitifully. What a massive accusation. I wasn’t about to take the fall for this. “The waitstaff must have seen everything,” I said, my voice steady. “They pushed me first. I didn’t start this. And besides…” I pointed toward a security camera mounted on the ceiling. “The camera will have the truth.” “Well… it was your fault for showing off the dress Mr. Sterling bought you! You were trying to provoke Kelly!” So, no matter what, it was my fault. All eyes turned to Rupert, waiting for the king to pass judgment. He took off his suit jacket and draped it over Kelly’s shoulders. “Wear this for now,” he said gently. “I’ll have someone take you to get changed. I’m sorry.” Of course. The scales of affection always tip one way. Even if I proved my innocence, he would always protect his darling. But that didn’t matter to me anymore. Rupert’s face was a mask of thunder as he dragged me to the car. The second the door slammed shut, he yanked at his tie. “Stay the hell away from her,” he hissed, his voice dangerously low. In my past life, this scene had played out countless times. And what did I do? I cried. I played the victim. But now, I just said calmly, “Mr. Sterling, it shouldn’t be hard for you to see that I was the one who was bullied tonight.” He was clearly stunned by my rational, emotionless response. He stared at me for a moment before replying, “I know, but Kelly’s family was there. I had to protect…” “I understand,” I cut in, a serene smile on my face. “But I can’t be humiliated for nothing, can I? As compensation, how about you give me that S-plus blockbuster script?” In my previous life, Kelly had skyrocketed to fame with that very role. I had been sick with envy. I had begged Rupert for it, but he had refused, saying my acting skills weren’t strong enough for a major production. Please. Was Kelly’s acting really that much better? The woman could barely hide her triumphant smirk when he gave her his jacket. Rupert’s lips thinned into a hard line. After a long moment of consideration, he finally said, “Fine.” I pressed my advantage, pointing to the wine stain on my dress. “And you owe me a new dress. Cash would be preferable.” Rupert might not have been a good partner, but he was certainly a considerate boss. He agreed without hesitation. But his gaze remained on me, sharp and probing, for a long time. The drive home was silent. Normally, I would be chattering away, annoying him until he snapped at me to shut up. But now, I was happily scrolling through diet-food videos on my phone. I completely ignored the daggers he was shooting at me from the driver’s seat, and the pointed, attention-seeking clearing of his throat. Hehehe. This was bliss. After a long day at “work,” I was exhausted. The moment we got home, I abandoned Rupert and dove into the bathroom for a long, fragrant shower. I snuggled into my blankets, humming with contentment. I didn’t get his slippers. I didn’t run his bath. Rupert’s expression grew even darker than it had been at the party. He started making a racket, slamming his phone on the nightstand, leaving the bathroom door open while he showered, the sound of rushing water filling the room. It was so distracting that I finally put on my headphones to watch my show in peace. When he was done, he climbed into bed and, out of habit, stretched his arm out towards me. Oh, right. That was my fault. I used to shamelessly use his arm as a pillow, and now it was a reflex for him. I just rolled over, pretending I hadn’t seen a thing. Click. As the breathing beside me grew heavier, the lamp was slammed off. Three seconds later. Click. The light was on again. Rupert shot up in bed, his jaw clenched. “Ava Reed,” he ground out through his teeth. “What in the hell are you so angry about?” 4 Huh? I was being blamed again? I scrambled to sit up, putting on my best customer-service smile for the boss. “Angry? Why would I be angry? You gave me a major role and a pile of cash. I couldn’t be happier!” “You…” He seemed genuinely furious now. He grabbed my wrist, pulling me close until our faces were inches apart. “You’re happy about this?” So being angry was wrong, and being happy was also wrong? This boss was impossible to please. I quickly laid on the charm. “With a boss as generous as you, Mr. Sterling, of course I’m happy!” Rupert narrowed his eyes, his grip on my wrist tightening. “What did you just call me?” “Boss…” That was it. He was officially furious. His eyes were like chips of ice. He stared into my eyes for a long, tense moment, as if searching for something he couldn’t find. I started to feel a prickle of fear under his intense gaze and quickly looked down. Suddenly, a hand clamped around my waist. In one swift motion, he pulled me down, and I was lying flat on my back again. He rolled on top of me, his lips brushing against my ear. His voice was like poison. “Fine,” he whispered. “Then you can work some overtime tonight.” I didn’t know what possessed Rupert that night. All I remembered was a desperate, almost punishing passion. The next morning, I woke up with every muscle in my body aching. I could barely focus on my script, yawning through every line. Filming started in three months; I had to be ready. I couldn’t let this blockbuster IP, the one that had made Kelly a superstar in my past life, fail in my hands. Even during breaks on a commercial shoot, I was studying my character’s psychology and memorizing lines. My agent, Catherine, came over to me. “Ava,” she said, “you’ve been different lately.” “Different how?” “Well… a lot nicer.” I hated Hollywood. It had destroyed the starry-eyed girl who had once dreamed of being an actress. So, in my past life, I had loathed my job. When a director with a short fuse yelled at me, I’d use Rupert’s name to storm off set, letting the whole production crash and burn. When the paparazzi ambushed me, I’d charge them, smash their expensive cameras to pieces, and have my lawyer follow up. When a young co-star tried to give Rupert a cake during a set visit, I’d have her fired immediately and then publicly call her out on social media. Everyone knew I was a nobody with an ego the size of a planet. My reputation was in the gutter. When you fall from grace, even the dogs will bite. In the end, I never even found out which of my many enemies had me killed. But in this life, I wasn’t making enemies. The director yells at me? I put my hands together and bow. “I’m so sorry, director. Can we please do one more take?” The paparazzi snap my picture? I bring them coffee. “Working hard, guys? Make sure you get my good side, okay?” A young actress brings a cake? I give her pointers. “Mr. Sterling prefers lime-flavored. Just a tip for next time.” My public image was soaring. Gleefully, I opened up my social media to bask in the trending topics about myself. But the first thing I saw was a headline that made my blood run cold: 【Ava Reed Steals Role】. The entire feed was a flood of outrage from Kelly Lister’s fans. My carefully rebuilt reputation crumbled in an instant. Before filming had even begun, the comments were already filled with calls to boycott the new show. As the online firestorm grew, I rushed to Rupert’s office. His secretary, who remembered my old diva antics, didn’t dare stop me. She just stammered, “Ms. Reed, Ms. Lister is still in there.” Is she? Then I have even more reason to go in. 5 If Kelly Lister shed a single tear, Rupert would snatch this role away from me without a second thought. I couldn’t let that happen. Kelly turned around as I entered. She was wearing heavy sunglasses, and her face was pale. She pointed a slender, accusing finger at me. “Rupert, are you really going to take this from me for her?” she said, her voice trembling. “I know I hurt you back then, but isn’t this revenge a little too cruel?” My gaze went past Kelly to Rupert, who was sitting at his desk, his expression impassive. The moment his eyes met mine, a flicker of indecision crossed his face. It was over. He was going to give the role to Kelly. I saw her sunglasses start to slip, revealing eyes already red-rimmed, a tear about to fall. I had to act first. I captured Rupert’s attention, my voice firm. “Mr. Sterling, you promised me this.” He tugged at the corner of his lip, annoyed. “You don’t even like acting. This can’t be that important to you.” “Of course it’s important.” I held his gaze, refusing to back down. “Honestly, I understand you’re in a difficult position. I never expected fairness from you. But this was your promise, and I have stayed up every night for the past month studying this script. You’ve seen how hard I’ve worked.” I had been reading until dawn every night. Not wanting to disturb Rupert, I had started sleeping in the guest room. He’d put up with it for a few days, but after a week, he couldn’t stand it anymore. He had stormed into the guest room, snatched the script from my hands, and thrown it onto the bed in the master suite. “You’ll read it under my watch,” he had grumbled. “I’d like to see what’s in this thin little booklet that requires a week of your time.” Rupert despised incompetence. He had mocked my slow pace, but he had also coached me, pointing out where my understanding of the character’s psychology was lacking. He had witnessed my effort. And it worked. The hesitation in his eyes began to fade, replaced by a look of deep curiosity. He didn’t say a word. He just buzzed his secretary and asked her to escort Kelly home. Once we were alone in the office, he rubbed his temples. “You’re not yourself lately,” he said. He was right. I didn’t cling to him anymore. In bed, I was passive, a silent partner offering neither initiation nor rejection, and certainly no emotional validation. When Kelly called him, I would quietly excuse myself, closing the door behind me. When he came home late, I was already sound asleep, getting my beauty rest instead of waiting up for him. I couldn’t help it. My days were packed: reading scripts, taking acting classes, managing my small investments. And now, here I was, reasoning with him like a business partner, devoid of any emotion. I smiled, and as a small reward, I leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “I’m busy, but I’m still obedient, aren’t I? Boss.” Rupert’s face soured. He waved a dismissive hand, telling me to leave. But I knew him. After two years, I knew that look. The role was mine. And sure enough, the trending topic vanished from social media. The show’s official account announced me as the female lead. Mission accomplished. Nothing else mattered.

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The day my sister stepped into the limousine to take my place at the altar, Roman received a final notice from the hospital. “Mr. Ashford,” the voice on the other end was clipped, professional, yet laced with an ultimatum. “Ms. Lowell’s account is significantly in arrears. If the balance isn’t cleared today, we will be forced to cease all life-sustaining measures.” Roman let out a short, incredulous laugh, the sound sharp against the hum of the wedding preparations. “Tell Norah to stop the theatrics. It’s embarrassing,” he sneered into the phone, adjusting his silk tie. “Tell her that even if she dies today, I’m still marrying Sienna. She can save her little performance.” Around him, the groomsmen—scions of New York’s oldest money—chuckled in solidarity. “Is that hospital looking to get shut down?” one of them scoffed, swirling his scotch. “Don’t they know who they’re talking to? The Ashfords own half of Manhattan.” The call ended. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, I watched, helpless, as the nurse reached out and disconnected the ventilator. It took less than thirty seconds. The machine’s rhythmic hum died, leaving a deafening silence. The nurse checked her watch and spoke softly to the empty room. “Time of death: October 10th, 2025.” Today was the day I died. It was also Roman’s wedding anniversary. Roman didn’t think of me again until the reception was over. When the last guest had left and the confetti had been swept away, he finally drove to the hospital. He pushed open the door to my room. Seeing my body still lying on the bed, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “See?” He turned to the empty hallway, validating his own cruelty. “I told you no one would dare cut off your meds.” He started to walk toward me, a rebuke ready on his lips. But he was stopped by a voice from behind him—a somber man from the funeral home, holding a garment bag. “Excuse me, sir. I need you to step aside. It’s time to dress the body.” 1 “Roman, let me go check on her for you. I’ll find out which hospital has the nerve to threaten the Ashford family.” Roman had rejected his groomsman’s offer with a cold wave of his hand. “There’s nothing to see. It’s just Norah’s usual cry for attention,” he said, his voice dripping with fatigue. “Ever since the accident, she plays the victim card. She claims she has ALS, says she has no money for treatment. But I send Sienna to check on her every single day. It’s all a lie.” The groomsman tried to press the issue, but Roman’s patience snapped. “Did Norah pay you off? Why are you defending her?” The friend backed down, muttering an apology. Roman’s expression hardened. “When Norah got hurt, I made a promise,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. “Even though Sienna is taking her place to fulfill the marriage contract between our families, I promised to take care of Norah for the rest of her life. Who would dare neglect someone under my protection? Stopping treatment? It’s absurd.” As he spoke, he caught sight of Sienna waiting in the vintage Rolls Royce. The ice in his eyes melted instantly. I was nothing but a wisp of consciousness floating in the air, watching the man I once loved look at my sister with adoration. The bitterness in my chest was overwhelming. Roman didn’t know. From the day he decided to let Sienna wear the ring meant for me, I had been erased. My parents, desperate to cement their climb up the social ladder, backed Sienna’s decision to move me. “Move her somewhere cheap,” they had agreed. “We can’t have a cripple embarrassing the family name.” So Sienna transferred me. They dumped me in a sub-standard facility, cut off the specialists, and fired the private nurses. They let my brain injury spiral into the aggressive progression of ALS. In the beginning, Roman would call. Even when he was busy closing billion-dollar deals, he checked in. Until his mother, the formidable Victoria Ashford, stood at the foot of my bed and demanded he break the engagement. “Roman, marrying a paralyzed woman will make this family a laughingstock,” she had hissed, her face flushed with indignation. “She can’t be a hostess. She can’t give us an heir. The Ashfords do not support useless assets.” I still remember the shame of that day, having nowhere to hide my broken body. So when I heard Sienna would take my place, part of me was relieved. How could I, a woman wasting away, stand beside Roman Ashford? But now, seeing Sienna in the Vera Wang gown custom-made for my measurements, wearing the diamond Roman had cut specifically for my finger… the pain was a physical spike through my phantom heart. Inside the ballroom, glasses clinked. Someone shouted a toast. “Congrats, Roman! Here’s to a lifetime with your girl. May you have a son within the year!” The room went quiet for a split second. The “girl” was supposed to be me, once upon a time. Roman leaned toward his assistant, whispering something low. “Check on Norah’s status at the hospital.” Sienna noticed the shift in his mood. “Roman? Is everything okay?” He forced a smile, squeezing her hand. “Everything is perfect. Someone just mentioned a baby. Don’t forget that part of the deal.” Sienna blushed, and the sight burned my eyes. Even as a ghost, Roman’s tenderness toward her felt like suffocation. I wanted to flee, to dissolve into the ether. But then, the assistant rushed back in, looking frantic. “Roman, the hospital says Norah isn’t there. She was transferred months ago. She’s gone.” 2 “What did you say?” Roman shot up from his seat, his chair screeching against the floor. He moved to leave, but Sienna grabbed his arm. “Roman, where are you going?” “You visit Norah every day,” he snapped, his voice rising. “Did you know she was transferred?!” Sienna froze. A flicker of panic crossed her eyes, but she smoothed it over instantly with a practiced calmness. “Yes, I had her moved. But I did it for her own good, Roman. I found a place that specializes in her condition.” She softened her voice, pleading. “Even if you don’t trust me, you know no hospital in New York would dare mistreat a Lowell connected to an Ashford. She’s fine.” The tension in Roman’s jaw loosened slightly, but the shadow of unease remained between his brows. Sienna seized the moment, linking her arm through his and pulling him back toward the celebration. I watched him sit back down, and the flicker of hope I’d felt was extinguished. Roman, she’s lying to you! Just go to the hospital! If you go, you’ll see! I screamed at him, floating right beside his ear. I shouted until my soul ached. But he couldn’t hear me. I watched them exchange rings. My vision blurred. The reception dragged on for hours. When it finally ended, I followed Roman. He didn’t go to the bridal suite. He went to my old hospital room—the fancy one I hadn’t been in for months. He stood outside the door, listening. My heart—if it still beat—would have been deafening. But he didn’t open the door. He just looked through the small glass pane at the empty bed, assuming I was asleep. “Norah,” he whispered to the silence. “I got married today.” He leaned his forehead against the wood, sounding exhausted. “I know you hate me for marrying Sienna. But there are things out of my control. You know I loved you. I told you once—it was always you.” A ghost of a smile touched his lips as he remembered. We met at the Ashford estate. My parents dragged me there to network. I was supposed to play the violin for his mother’s birthday, but I froze. The stares of the elite were too heavy. It was Roman who walked onto the stage, sat at the piano, and guided me through the melody. He later claimed he just didn’t want the party ruined, but that night, our fates knotted together. Loving him was exhausting. Everyone mocked me—the climber chasing the crown prince. But on his eighteenth birthday, he took my hand in front of everyone. “Norah,” he had said, “I don’t start things I don’t finish. You’re going to be Mrs. Ashford. Don’t try to run.” We were so sure of our future then. “Don’t hate me, Norah,” Roman said now, pulling a cigarette from his pocket. He looked at the “No Smoking” sign, then at my “sleeping” form through the glass, and put the lighter away. He tapped the glass gently. “Tomorrow, I’ll move you. I’ll bring you to the hospital closest to our penthouse. Okay?” The room remained silent. Finally sensing something was wrong, Roman frowned and reached for the handle. Just then, his phone rang. “Sienna’s sick? I’m coming.” His hand dropped. He turned and left. The door stayed closed. 3 I didn’t follow Roman back. I couldn’t bear to witness his wedding night. instead, I waited in the silence of the room where my body lay. Roman said he would come. He always kept his word, eventually. But the next morning, I was woken by screaming in the hallway. I drifted out and saw Nana Rose—my grandmother, the only person who ever truly loved me—arguing with Sienna. “Nana!” I cried out, reaching for her. But Nana was focused on Sienna, her eyes blazing with fury. “Norah is dead! None of you came to help her, none of you came to hold her hand, and now you want to steal her body?” Sienna didn’t back down. She crossed her arms, cold and imperious. “This is all Norah’s fault. It was my wedding night, and Roman left me alone to come check on her! She’s a curse. Even dead, she’s haunting us.” “I’m moving her body,” Sienna spat. “I’m dumping it somewhere Roman will never find it.” Nana clutched her chest, her face paling. I tried to push Sienna away, but my hands passed through her like smoke. “I don’t have a sister,” Sienna continued, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “If she hadn’t existed, everything the Lowells have would have been mine from the start. Why did I have to be the one sent away to boarding school while she stayed home?” I froze. I never knew she hated me this much. Nana was begging now. “Sienna, please. She’s gone. She can’t stop you and Roman anymore. Let her rest.” Sienna laughed, a cruel, sharp sound, and shoved Nana hard. “Old hag. I’m not soft like you. I don’t care about morality. I paid someone to arrange Norah’s ‘accident’ years ago, and she survived it. Now Roman wants to move her closer? No. She needs to disappear so he can finally forget her.” The revelation hit me like a physical blow. My paralysis… the accident that ruined my life… it was my sister. Nana screamed, “My Norah… oh, my poor Norah!” Sienna, impatient, grabbed Nana and threw her aside. Nana hit the floor hard, her head cracking against the linoleum. Blood began to pool. “What are you doing?!” I screamed, sobbing, uselessly beating my fists against Sienna’s back. “She’s your grandmother!” Sienna stepped over Nana to open the door to my room. Nana, bleeding and desperate, lunged forward and grabbed Sienna’s ankle. “I won’t let you hurt her again!” Sienna stumbled. She fell hard, her stomach hitting the floor. She gasped, curling into a ball, clutching her abdomen. Then, blood—bright and red—began to stain her white dress. “What did you do to Sienna?!” A man’s voice roared from the elevator banks. It was Roman. 4 “Roman!” I screamed, pointing at Nana. “Sienna hurt Nana! Look at the blood on her head!” But Roman was deaf to me. His eyes were locked only on the crimson stain spreading across Sienna’s white skirt. Sienna, eyes bloodshot and wild, grabbed Roman’s sleeve. “Roman… I just wanted to see my sister… but Nana… she told me to get out. She attacked me… I couldn’t fight back… our baby…” I stood frozen. Baby? I looked at Roman’s panicked profile, and my world collapsed for the second time. They had been together long enough to conceive. While I was rotting in a bed, waiting for a call that never came. Roman glared at the closed door of my room, his voice vibrating with rage. “Norah! I promised I’d move you today! Why would you incite this violence against Sienna? Come out here and apologize to her right now! Or I swear, I am done with you!” The room remained silent. I trembled, watching him. Nana, clutching her chest, gasped out, “Mr. Ashford… Norah is dead… she couldn’t have told me to do anything… Sienna is lying…” Roman paused, a frown creasing his forehead. Sienna saw his hesitation. “Roman, would I lie about our child? Nana has always hated me. She only ever loved Norah.” Roman’s doubt vanished. He signaled his bodyguards. Two massive men grabbed Nana, pinning her arms. Roman turned back to the door. “Norah. If you don’t come out, I’ll let the person you love most pay the price for you.” He checked his watch. “Three seconds.” “Roman, I’m dead! Please, leave her alone!” I screamed. “Just open the door! Just look!” He nodded to his guard. The man kicked Nana in the back of the knee. She collapsed to the floor with a sickening thud, gasping for air. “Apologize to my fiancée!” the guard barked. “I… I can’t breathe…” Nana wheezed. “Asthma…” Her trembling hands fumbled for her purse. But Sienna reached out and kicked the bag across the hall. “Keep kneeling,” Sienna sneered. “I don’t feel your apology yet.” Roman watched Sienna’s cruelty. He opened his mouth to object, but then his eyes fell on the blood on her dress again, and he stayed silent. I tried to hold Nana, my tears mixing with the blood on her face. “Roman, please! Help her!” Just as Nana’s face began to turn purple, the elevator chimed. A staff member from the funeral home walked out, holding a garment bag. He looked around the chaotic hallway. “Where is the family of Norah Lowell? I have the burial shroud. Who is going to dress her?”

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1 The men broke when they saw the last child in the safe room torn apart by a zombie while still alive. “Captain! You said she was just a jealous liar! You told us to guard you and Serena during the fireworks!” “So why is my month-old son in pieces?!” Jason’s face turned deathly pale. I watched, my heart bleeding. In my past life, during the zombie attack, my husband Jason took all the guards to watch fireworks with his childhood sweetheart, Serena. I screamed myself hoarse, calling them back, and saved everyone. But angry about missing the show, Serena stormed out alone and was torn to pieces by zombies. After killing the horde, Jason held her remaining leg bone, silent. That silence lasted until the day I gave birth. Then, he chopped off my limbs alive and fed me to the zombies. He’d watch them eat me, heal me, and repeat it, over and over. “You venomous bitch,” he’d snarled. “You killed her. So your death will be a thousand times worse.” When I opened my eyes, I was back—back to the day the zombies first attacked. … I was reborn the moment the sound of their guttural roars echoed through the forest. On pure instinct, I shot out of my room and threw myself at the console in the broadcast center. “Attention, everyone! Attention!” My voice crackled over the speakers. “A massive zombie horde is approaching! All personnel, evacuate to the safe room immediately!” The words had barely left my lips when the first terrified screams erupted outside. “Move!” I grabbed the machete from my belt, trying to herd the panicked crowd while simultaneously hacking down the first few infected that broke through the perimeter. The retreat was a chaotic nightmare. I scooped up a few children who were frozen in terror and shoved them through the heavy steel doors of the safe room. CLANG! The lock slammed shut, sealing us off from the hell outside, if only for a moment. The survivors, still reeling from the shock, collapsed to the floor, their sobs echoing in the enclosed space. A woman clutching an infant grabbed my arm, her eyes wide with panic. “Aria… you have to find Captain Jason! Get them back here to save us!” I closed my eyes, forcing myself to deliver the cruel truth. “Jason took the entire security team to the summit on the edge of town. He’s protecting Serena while she watches the fireworks.” The room exploded. “Fireworks? Now?” “He’s insane! He left us all here to die… for her?” Just then, a deafening sound reverberated through the room. BANG! BANG! BANG! The steel door shuddered with each impact, the center beginning to buckle and warp. At this rate, it was only a matter of time before it gave way. We couldn’t wait for him. “Maybe… maybe we don’t need them,” I said, a desperate idea forming. I turned to Jason’s mother. “Mom! The electric fence! If we can activate the high-voltage grid, we can fry them!” Her eyes lit up. “Yes! The fence!” She quickly pulled out her comms device. With every eye in the room fixed on her, she made the call. A moment later, Jason’s voice came through, laced with annoyance. “Mom? What is it? I’m a little busy right now.” His mother swallowed her rage, her words coming in a rush. “Jason, the base is under attack! A whole horde! The safe room won’t hold for much longer! You have to activate the perimeter fence, now!” The air grew thick with tension. “Are you kidding me?” he scoffed. “The power is being diverted to the summit lights. I can’t spare a single watt. Do you want to ruin the mood for Serena’s birthday?” He actually laughed. A cold, dismissive sound. “Is Aria whispering poison in your ear again? She’s that jealous? I’m just watching some fireworks with Serena. Does she really have to stoop this low, getting you to lie for her just to drag me back?” His mother was trembling with fury. “You foolish, pig-headed boy! Do you have any idea—” The line went dead. He had hung up on her. A dead silence fell over the room, thick with despair. “It’s over,” someone whispered. “We’re really going to die here.” I stared at the dented door, my heart clenching. Could it be that even with a second chance, I couldn’t change a single thing? In that suffocating silence, his mother looked at me, her eyes hardening with resolve. “I trained that security team myself!” she declared. “There’s a service path up the back of the mountain. I’ll go to them. They won’t disobey a direct order from me! I’ll bring them back!” A flicker of hope ignited in my chest. Without another word, she slipped out a side maintenance hatch. “Wait for me,” was all she said before disappearing into the darkness. An hour later, a jagged hole was torn in the main door. A rotten, skeletal hand snaked through the opening, reaching for the infant in the woman’s arms. The baby’s cry was cut short by a sickening crunch. The mother collapsed, her eyes instantly vacant. As despair washed over us, a figure stumbled back through the side hatch. It was his mother. “Is the team back?” everyone asked at once. She was covered in blood. “Quick! Block the breach!” I rushed to support her. Her voice was a ragged whisper. “That bastard son of mine… He barricaded every path. He set up defenses to make sure no one could interrupt her precious birthday.” Her eyes were red with a furious, helpless rage. A chill crept up my spine, and I stumbled backward. Jason had been so determined to keep me away that he had blocked his own mother. “No! We can’t just give up!” I looked around at the terrified faces. “If we can’t get our own team, we’ll call for outside help!” I scrambled to the emergency comms, frantically cycling through the frequencies for other nearby outposts. I finally got a response and quickly explained our situation, begging for aid. There was a long pause on the other end. “I’m sorry,” the voice finally said. “We can’t send help.” “An hour ago, we received a priority communication from Captain Jason himself. He warned us that someone at your base might be making a false distress call. His direct order was to disregard any and all requests for aid from your location tonight.” He had gone this far. To protect Serena’s birthday party, he had proactively severed every lifeline, calculated every possibility, and sealed our tomb. His mother’s face went white. “This is Jason’s mother. I’m begging you…” “Ma’am,” the voice interrupted, still cold and professional, “the Captain was very specific. He said we should especially disregard any orders coming from you.” “He stated that unless you came to our gates in person to request aid, no assistance would be dispatched.” The line went dead again. In person? A journey of dozens of miles through a sea of the dead? It was a suicide mission. The breach in the door was temporarily patched, but we all knew it was a flimsy fix. I put my arm around his mother. “Mom, I’ll go with you.” I glanced at the fresh pool of blood on the floor, my voice hard as steel. “Everyone here is counting on us. If we stay, we die. If we go, there’s a chance!” She looked at me, a deep, searching gaze, and finally, she nodded. We moved through the darkness, me supporting her as best I could. Her left arm was gone, torn clean off by a zombie. Blood still streamed from the wound. “Just over this ridge… we’re almost there…” she gasped. From halfway up the mountain, we could see the distant lights of the neighboring outpost. Hope surged through us. And then the world exploded. A firework—a military-grade flare—detonated right in front of us. The shockwave threw us violently through the air. Dazed, I looked up toward the summit and saw him. Jason, with his arm around Serena. His mocking voice boomed across the valley from a set of loudspeakers. “Aria. I knew it. When playing the victim didn’t work, you decided to try brute force, didn’t you?” His voice turned to ice. “I knew you wouldn’t give up on ruining Serena’s birthday! I won’t let you succeed!” The explosions intensified, a deadly rain of light and fire. “Mom, you have to tell him it’s you!” I screamed. His mother gathered all her remaining strength and yelled toward the summit. “JASON!” For a moment, there was silence. Then, Jason’s laughter, louder and more maniacal than before, echoed down the mountain. The distance was too great; he could only make out our silhouettes. “Aria, you really will do anything to ruin this for her, won’t you?” he shouted. “First you get my mother to lie for you on the phone, and now you’ve hired an actress? An amputee, no less! Did you really think I’d fall for that?” His mother trembled with rage. “It is me, you fool! It’s your mother! Can’t you even recognize my voice?!” For a split second, I saw a flicker of doubt on Jason’s face. But Serena immediately tugged on his sleeve, her voice trembling with manufactured hurt. “Jason… I know Aria has never liked me. Maybe we should just cancel my birthday. We can go back.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s okay… I’m used to it.” That was all it took. Jason’s face hardened, his rage renewed. “Keep firing!” he commanded. More shells rained down, completely cutting off our path. The moon hung high in the sky, a cold, indifferent witness. “There’s no time,” his mother said, her grip tightening on my shoulder. “I’ll draw their fire. You have to go! You have to get help back to them!” She shoved me away from her. “They’re all waiting for you!” She began to stumble toward the summit. I scrambled after her, grabbing for her remaining arm. “Mom, no! They don’t recognize you! They’ll kill you!” Jason’s voice, colder than the grave, echoed from the peak. “Aria, if you’re so determined to die just to spoil Serena’s night, then I’ll be happy to oblige you!” He shouldered a rocket launcher. The next second, a massive firework shell screamed toward me. “Aria, look out!” His mother threw herself at me, tackling me to the ground and shielding me with her broken body. BOOM! The explosion was deafening, a physical blow that nearly shattered my eardrums. A thick, hot spray of blood covered my face. Her body went limp on top of me. Her back had been blown open, a gaping, cavernous wound. My hands trembled as I reached for her, feeling only the warm, sticky wetness. I shook her gently, but there was no response. A raw, animal cry tore from my throat. “Mom!” Serena’s delicate voice floated down from the speakers. “Aria, you should probably push the body off the cliff. Otherwise, the zombies will smell the blood and come for you, too.” 2 Several of the guards on the summit had witnessed the whole thing, their faces etched with uncertainty. A younger guard leaned toward his friend. “She… she didn’t look like she was faking it.” He hesitated. “What if she was telling the truth? What if something really happened at the base?” His friend cut him off. “Are you crazy? The captain would know if something was wrong. It’s just her, being jealous of Serena again. You know how women get.” But the young guard persisted. “But what if? Our families are down there!” A squad leader stepped in, his voice sharp. “The captain wouldn’t risk our families. End of discussion.” A moment later, I was dragged roughly up to the summit. My body was a mess of cuts and bruises, caked in a mixture of blood and mud. Serena approached, her face a perfect mask of concern. “Oh, Aria, you’re bleeding so much. Here, let me help you.” She reached out to touch me. “Don’t touch me!” I snarled, slapping her hand away with enough force to make her stumble. “Aria!” Jason roared. “Your pettiness knows no bounds! Serena is trying to be kind to you, and this is how you repay her?” He stalked over and stomped on my pinky finger. “It seems you’ll never learn without a little punishment!” A blinding, white-hot pain shot through my entire body. I curled into a ball on the ground, but my own agony was nothing. The people in the safe room… they were still waiting. I forced myself to look up, to meet Jason’s eyes. “Jason,” I said, each word a shard of glass. “The safe room is about to fall. Every minute you waste here, another person dies.” “Don’t you hear them?” I pleaded, my voice cracking. “Don’t you hear the zombies at the walls?” At my words, Serena burst into tears. “Jason, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have had a birthday. I shouldn’t even exist.” He pulled her into a protective embrace, his voice dripping with venom as he glared at me. “How long are you going to keep up this act, Aria? The base has the best defense system on the coast. How could it possibly…” I cut him off, despair turning my voice hollow. “All of your elite guards are here, protecting you and her. All the power for the electric fence has been rerouted here for your light show! Jason, you are going to regret this!” At this, several guards exchanged uneasy glances. “Captain, maybe… maybe we should send someone to check?” the young guard asked tentatively. An older guard beside him scoffed. “You must be new. She pulls stunts like this all the time to get at Miss Serena. This isn’t the first time she’s cried wolf.” “Yeah!” another chimed in. “Remember when she claimed Serena pushed her down the stairs?” Jason’s face grew even darker. “Take her! Tie her to that tree and let her think about what she’s done!” In his arms, a triumphant smirk flickered across Serena’s face. I fought with everything I had left. “Jason, if you don’t go back now, everyone’s families—your family—will be torn apart and eaten alive!” My only answer was a vicious backhand across the face. “The more you do this, Aria,” he hissed, “the more I hate you.” Just as they dragged me toward the tree, it happened. WEEEEEEEEEE— A blood-curdling siren screamed up from the base below. It was the level-one emergency alarm. The fail-safe. It meant the safe room had been breached. No survivors. Everyone froze. The older guard who had been mocking me was the first to react. He stumbled to the edge of the cliff, his eyes wide with horror as he stared down at the base. “The primary alarm… Oh God, the primary alarm! My wife… my little girl… they’re in there!” The young guard’s face was sheet-white, his lips trembling. In the dead silence, I looked at Jason, my voice barely a whisper. “Do you hear that, Jason? They’re all dead.” “This is the fireworks show you bought for Serena with all of their lives. Are you satisfied now?” “Even your own mother, the woman you claimed to respect more than anyone… you killed her, too.”

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I was scrolling through my phone before bed, deep in the digital rabbit hole, when I stumbled across a morbid Reddit post that immediately seized my attention. AITA for wanting to tell my neighbor she’s got a stranger hiding in her apartment? The headline alone had a potent, visceral punch. I couldn’t stop myself from reading on. He’s hiding under her bed tonight. The comments section was already a chaotic mess. Definitely farming karma. This is too wild. Are you posting this from under the bed yourself, bro? Writing out your dream plot points, are we? If this is real, you need to call the cops. Wait, why does he know this? Holy hell, is the girl being stalked? The Original Poster (OP) saw the flood of accusations. Look, y’all need to calm down. Her floor-to-ceiling windows don’t have the curtains closed. I live in the building opposite, and I saw it by accident. Someone challenged him for photo evidence, but before I could scroll to see the proof, my blood ran cold. A sudden, sharp memory. My sheer voile drapes. They were at the dry cleaner. I’d dropped them off this morning. And my apartment, with its entire south-facing wall, was essentially one giant sheet of glass. 1 Just then, a sound abruptly pierced the silence under my bed. I jumped out of my skin, my muscles tensing as if preparing to launch myself into the blankets for cover. Then I realized it was just the charging cord for my phone, snagging the box of tissues on my nightstand and sending it crashing to the floor with a soft thud. I leaned over and picked it up, my hand shaking slightly. I knew I shouldn’t have been reading those messed-up, sensationalist posts before bed. What were the chances? The whole thing was clearly manufactured to go viral. But then, the Reddit post updated. The OP had uploaded an image. It was a picture of an entire residential tower. I squinted at the screen, and a film of cold sweat broke out on my forehead. It was my building. Our community. Our developer used huge, floor-to-ceiling windows to maximize light in the smaller units. My entire living area, from the balcony to the main bedroom, was one continuous expanse of glass. Living alone, I’d chosen not to put a wall between the bedroom and the balcony, so the whole space was one sunny, open concept—which I loved. The photo sent the discussion into a frenzy. I told you that privacy was crap with those windows. No curtains and everything is on display. OP is a total fraud. He’s obviously not shooting from his own floor. Everyone scatter. Probably stole the pic from Zillow. The OP replied, defending himself. I’m not an idiot. I shot this from my place. How many floors up can you count from your vantage point, genius? The math wizards in here are on fire tonight. Fine. To prove I’m legit, here’s a close-up from my window. I’m only showing half. The next image was a blurry, zoomed-in shot of the opposite building. Most windows were covered, their curtains drawn tight. A few were dark. I nearly dropped my phone. I recognized the layout instantly. That was my exact tower. And one of those dark, uncovered windows was mine. I quickly tapped the OP’s profile and checked his IP location. My heart hammered against my ribs. I instinctively slid out of bed and retreated to the living room. The comments under the post had turned frantic. If this is true, you need to call the police, OP. The OP posted again. The neighbor looks like she’s up. She just went into the living room for water. I gripped my phone, trembling. The coincidence was too precise. I was in the living room, standing right next to the water filter. I dared not look at the windows. I couldn’t walk back to the bedroom. As I stood there, frozen, the thread updated again. The reason I posted for advice is that the guy hiding in her apartment doesn’t seem to have any hostile intentions. If I tell her, will he notice and come after me? Or will he just get worse? About three days ago, I first noticed a man pop out in her apartment after she left for work. I thought he was family at first. But they never appear at the same time. And I watch him climb under the bed every day right before she gets home. The comments exploded. This girl is being stalked by a psycho! Some sickos target single women, live in their place, and when they’re bored, they kill them. This is horrifying. Call the cops, OP! Call them now! But if he calls the cops, how long will the creep be locked up? Will he come back and retaliate against the girl? The OP replied. That’s exactly why I posted for help. I’m thinking about all that. Y’all are actually believing this peeping tom? A normal person doesn’t stalk their neighbor. He’s a creep too. That comment spurred an even more intense discussion. OMG, this girl is cursed. Two psychos at once! I’m never living alone again. The OP posted a final update. I’m putting up a poll now. Based on the votes, I’ll decide whether to knock on her door and tell her. A poll button appeared instantly. Knock on her door now Continue to observe I clutched my phone and backed into the bathroom. Please don’t come. He’s a creep, too. Thankfully, the majority of votes were for “Continue to observe.” OP, don’t provoke him. Unless you’re the size of The Rock, don’t risk escalating it. I still think OP is just trying to go viral. Look at all the new followers! The OP replied: Okay, I’ll listen to the consensus. Continue to observe, or maybe tell her during the day. She turned off the light. Maybe I should delete this thread. It feels weird now that everyone’s calling me a stalker. NO, OP! We need updates! You’re the good guy stalker protecting the single girl next door! The light from the phone screen washed over my face. In the reflection, I saw my own expression: perfectly blank. Exposing myself now would put me, a woman, at a severe disadvantage against the intruder. I turned off the phone, cleared my browser history, and walked casually back to bed. I pulled the covers up to my chin. I closed my eyes. Which floor, in the building across the street, was the other creep on? Was he still watching? 2 I woke up the next morning and went to work as normal, terrified of showing even the slightest sign of distress. I was sure the man hiding in the dark would burst out and kill me the second I slipped up. Only once I stepped out the front door did my heart rate begin to slow. On the subway ride to my yoga studio, I called the dry cleaner. They told me my curtains—the material was large and handmade—wouldn’t be ready until the day after tomorrow. I didn’t push them. I just told them to take their time and do a good job. Then, I checked the Reddit thread from last night. The OP had posted an update during the day. The guy under the bed is gone. He actually left the apartment today. The neighbor still hasn’t noticed anything. Should I still say something? The comments section was busy. Oh god, is he scouting his next victim? OP, you need to get evidence and call the police! What good will the police do? She hasn’t lost anything. What’s the charge? Disgusting. The thought of a stranger touching her clothes, smelling her sheets… makes me sick. The discussion didn’t last long. The OP abruptly deleted the entire thread. I frowned, biting my lip. Did he really leave? My subway stop had arrived. I put my phone away. That evening, coming home from work, I saw a young man near the lobby entrance. He was wearing a black hoodie, the hood pulled so low it obscured most of his face. My gut told me he was watching me. But he never approached. I walked into the building, breaking his gaze. After dinner, I did my usual ten minutes of yoga on the balcony. It was essential for my job. Given the lack of curtains, I kept it brief, mindful of the exposure. Before going to sleep, I searched for the deleted thread again. The OP had reposted a new update. He’s back. He’s back. He climbed under the bed again. He seems to be holding something in his hand this time. The neighbor is home. The comment section went into full panic mode. Call the police now! He’s going to make a move! This is like a horror movie! Why are you still posting, OP?! Oh my god, is this girl about to be murdered? I think OP is just fabricating the whole thing. A normal person would have called 911 by now. OP, you need to go check on her. The OP didn’t reply again. I opened the Notes app on my phone and started typing. Then, I quickly got up and went to the living room, settling onto the sofa. I refused to go back to the bedroom. Curled up on the couch, I picked up the thermos from the coffee table, took a sip of water, and felt a wave of crushing drowsiness wash over me. I must have fallen asleep instantly. Before I drifted off, I had one last thought. Please, please don’t let the poster come tonight.

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