Category: English

I was attending my brother-in-law’s wedding as the honored sister-in-law. The pristine white dress, the aisle of red roses, the heartfelt vows. It moved me to tears, vaguely reminding me of a few years ago, before I turned into a monster. “Honey, do you regret marrying me?” My husband looked at me with deep affection. “Regret? Babe, I wouldn’t dare.” Moments later, the ceremony ended. Just as I was about to eat, the bride’s mother suddenly rushed over to me, screaming, “The maid of honor’s cash envelope is missing! Did you steal it?” The entire restaurant went dead silent. My husband’s family turned pale, cold sweat instantly beading on their foreheads. 1 Growing up, the phrase I heard most often was “Kill them with kindness.” As a kid, I didn’t get the metaphor. I just interpreted it my way. When older kids bullied me, I caught a venomous snake and left it in their backpack. When the neighbor’s girl got jealous of my hair ribbons and cut them, I shaved her head while she slept. When the old lady across the street called me a “bad seed,” I set her kitchen on fire while she was cooking. For a long time, no one dared to mess with me. They wouldn’t even come near me. My carefree mother found it strange. “Lexi, why does everyone walk around you?” I looked up, smiling, dimples showing. “Because they’re afraid of blocking my path.” Mom was relieved. She praised my popularity, saying people were so polite to make way for me. She had no idea. It wasn’t just walking. People made way for me in everything. That peaceful life didn’t last long. One day, a group of muggers cornered me in an alley, demanding money. I pulled out a box cutter and sliced every single one of their wrists. The police got involved. That finally woke my mother up. She grabbed me, shaking, and drilled it into my head: “Lexi, you have to appear kind. Even if you have to fake it, you must look like a good, obedient girl.” “What if someone bullies me?” Mom smiled, a dark glint in her eyes. “You endure it. You yield…” “You wait until they think you’re weak. You wait until the whole world thinks you are the victim.” “Then, you strike back. One hit. Lethal.” Mom winked. “That way, you get your revenge, and no one can blame you. Isn’t that fun?” My eyes lit up. Dear Mom, I finally understood the true meaning of “Kill them with kindness.” 2 I retracted my claws and played the role of the good girl. Until my wedding day. A client who constantly delayed payments tried to blackmail my in-laws at the reception, demanding a new contract in exchange for the money he owed. My honest, timid in-laws were shaking with rage but helpless. So, in between toasts, I dragged him into the VIP lounge and broke both his legs. Amidst the blood-splattered room, I whispered gently, “Don’t worry. Modern medicine is amazing. They can reattach those.” “Don’t bother calling the cops. The cameras saw you trying to force yourself on me. I was just defending myself.” When my husband, Caleb, rushed in and saw the blood, he almost passed out. It took him a long time to find his voice. “Honey… is this… a hobby? Or a one-time thing?” I thought for a moment. “Only when people piss me off.” “Caleb, will you piss me off?” Caleb laughed, though it sounded like a sob. “Don’t worry. I… I wouldn’t dare.” The client went to the hospital and wired the overdue payment that same day. My in-laws looked at me with pure terror after that. I asked, “Do you want to annul the marriage? It’s fine, I don’t mind.” They shoved Caleb toward me. “No, no, no! Consider him our protection fee! Please look after us!” Since then, I went back to playing the virtuous wife. Neighbors and relatives praised my gentle temper. They didn’t know that behind closed doors, in a family of five, I sat at the head of the table. Three years later, Caleb’s younger brother was getting married. My in-laws personally ushered me to the main seat. Watching the ceremony, I was genuinely moved. “Honey, do you regret marrying me?” Caleb hugged my shoulders tight. “Silly girl, I wouldn’t dare regret it.” Then, the meal began. The bride’s mother, Brenda, stormed over. “The maid of honor’s cash envelope is gone! Did you steal it?” Silence. My brother-in-law, Gavin, ran over to mediate. “Mom, please. Lexi has been sitting here the whole time. How could she touch the envelope? It must be misplaced…” Brenda shook him off. “Since my daughter walked down the aisle, this woman has been staring at her.” “She’s just jealous that my daughter’s wedding is grander than hers was! She’s sabotaging us!” 3 In the dead silence, I started to stand up. Caleb grabbed my hand, pleading in his eyes. “Babe, it’s Gavin’s big day. Please, spare them…” I thought about it. She is the bride’s mother. Bloodshed might be bad luck. So, I stayed silent. This only fueled Brenda’s arrogance. “Cat got your tongue? Guilty! Look at this sister-in-law, stealing from the bridal party. Trash!” “In-laws, you let this kind of person be the matriarch? Aren’t you embarrassed?” “I’m putting it out there: if she tries anything today, or bullies my daughter tomorrow, I won’t let it slide!” Even my good-natured mother-in-law snapped. “Show some respect! This is family business!” Brenda rolled her eyes, changing tactics. “Oh, I’m just worried you’ll suffer under her rule! My daughter, Bella, is so much better. Filial, gentle.” “Don’t worry, when this woman kicks you out, Bella will take you in!” It was a cheap, transparent attempt to sow discord. Brenda extended a hand toward me. “Hand over the money. I’m giving you a chance to save face.” I sat still and winked at my husband. Caleb’s face went through several colors before he let go of my hand. “Just… go easy,” he whispered. I nodded. “Relax. I’m doing this the civilized way today.” I walked onto the stage and took the microphone. “Everyone, quiet down. Brenda here claims I stole an envelope. I’ve called the police. Please cooperate.” “If the police can’t find it, I will personally fund a replacement envelope for the maid of honor.” “Rest assured, no matter how much was in there, I can afford it.” 4 Minutes later, two officers arrived and searched the area. They found one red envelope in a corner. The other was missing. Brenda looked nervous. “Oh, it’s a small thing, why call the cops?” I took the found envelope. “It was a gift from the bride’s mother. The amount must be significant. We have to be serious.” I ripped it open. I tipped it over. A single $20 bill fluttered out. The crowd gasped. “Damn… I haven’t seen a twenty-dollar wedding gift since the 90s.” “The bridesmaids paid for their own flights and dresses, and she gave them twenty bucks? Is the bride’s family destitute?” “She screamed at the head table over twenty dollars? Insane.” Laughter rippled through the hall. The bridesmaids looked furious. Even the cop laughed. “All this drama for twenty bucks? Alright, wait here, we’ll find the other one.” I stopped him. “No need.” I walked up to Brenda and patted her waist. Sure enough, I pulled the missing envelope from her belt. I opened it. Another twenty dollars. “Brenda, did you forget to give it out? Or did you give it out, regret the expense, and steal it back?” Brenda smiled awkwardly. “I… I remembered wrong. I hadn’t handed it out yet…” I threw the two bills in her face, thanked the cops, and sat back down. The drama faded, but Brenda was fuming. She muttered, “I’m an elder! Even if I made a mistake, you didn’t have to humiliate me…” Gavin looked exhausted. “Mom, stop. Lexi already gave you a lot of face.” If she had done it her usual way, you’d be in the ICU right now.

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1 My BBQ joint, “The Corn-Fired Grill,” uses dried corn kernels for fuel. It’s cleaner than charcoal and more sustainable. Until today, when a young girl showed up and, through a flood of tears, threatened to report us. “I’m a farmer’s daughter! The one thing I can’t stand is people wasting food!” “When crop prices are low, farmers starve! You’re all just vile capitalists!” she declared, her face set in a look of fierce determination. I nodded, apologized immediately, and promised I would no longer buy corn from her town. Then I went to the next town over. But this year, the rains came and didn’t stop. When all the corn in her town rotted in the fields, unsold, the farmers came knocking, asking why I hadn’t come to buy their harvest. … The girl showed up on a busy night, the restaurant packed. She was sobbing as if she’d suffered a terrible injustice. At first, seeing how young she was, I tried to explain. “Listen, sweetie, corn doesn’t have to be eaten to be useful.” Before opening, I’d done my homework. Using corn as fuel wasn’t a whim. Only a small fraction of all corn grown is for human consumption; the rest is used for animal feed or industrial purposes. You can ferment it into ethanol and put it in your car’s gas tank. Why couldn’t I put it in a furnace? I thought a little education would clear things up. But she only cried harder, her lip trembling. “I don’t wanna hear it! Corn is cheaper than charcoal, so you’re just doing this to make more money!” “There’s no such thing as an honest businessman! You can’t talk your way out of being a heartless monster!” I had to explain again. “You’re right, using corn is more cost-effective. But I buy all my corn at market price from local farmers. Whether it’s old, stale, or just won’t sell, I take it all. This is corn that’s so dry and hard, it’s been sitting in silos for years. No one would ever eat it. Normally, it would just rot. Now, they get extra income, and I save on costs. It’s a win-win.” Wasting food isn’t about how it’s used; it’s about failing to realize its value. A customer at a nearby table chimed in. “The farmers are happy, the owner’s happy. What’s it to you?” Seeing she had no allies, the girl’s face flushed with anger. She stormed into the grill and grabbed a carton of eggs. Then, she started throwing them. Everywhere. Slimy, disgusting streaks of yolk ran down the walls. Splatters hit other customers, the raw, fishy smell clinging to their clothes. She acted as if she were a revolutionary, holding an egg aloft like a banner. “You’re not burning corn! You’re burning the sweat of our farmers!” she screamed. “A farmer’s daughter will not allow this!” Unbelievable. She was accusing me of waste, claiming to be a voice for the farmers. Yet, in less than a minute, she had smashed over twenty eggs. Who was the one being wasteful now? Who was speaking for the poor hens that worked so hard to lay those eggs? Her tantrum spent, she straightened her shoulders and marched out, wrapped in a shroud of self-righteousness. I wanted to chase after her, but the restaurant was in chaos. Customers were leaving in droves, complaining that this random disaster was worse than finding a hair in their food. I had no choice but to stay and manage the fallout. I promised everyone their meal was on the house and that I’d cover their dry-cleaning bills. As for the girl, from the look of her clothes, her family didn’t have much. Even if I caught her, she wouldn’t be able to pay for the damages. I let it go. In business, you have to pick your battles. The world is full of fools; I’d just have to count this as a lesson. The next day, I opened up as usual, only to be ambushed by a pack of reporters shoving cameras in my face. “Do you have a response to the allegations online?” That’s how I found out I’d gone viral. Someone had posted a video exposing my “wasteful” use of corn. But it didn’t stop there. The video spun a vile rumor. “A woman owning a business? She must have slept her way to the top.” “I bet some sugar daddy paid for this whole place.” At first, people were skeptical. Then the original poster dropped a photo of me in the comments. In the picture, there was a sticky, white puddle in the middle of my skirt. Paired with the suggestive captions, it was designed to make people’s minds go straight to the gutter. The comments section exploded with filth. “Pop quiz: If she’s using the kernels for fuel, what do you think she’s using the cobs for?” “Now we know the real reason she’s buying all that corn.” I laughed, a bitter, angry sound, and clicked on the poster’s profile. Dozens of selfie videos confirmed it. It was her. I sent her a private message. “You know exactly where that picture came from.” It was just egg yolk from when she’d pelted me last night. I thought she was just having a meltdown, but this was a different level of vicious. And from another woman, no less. She didn’t even bother denying it. Her reply was instant. “Hehe, a farmer’s daughter has to defend her crops!” I told her what she was doing was illegal. Slander. She didn’t care. She just kept repeating the same childish taunt. “Aww, did I strike a nerve? U mad?” Fine. Let the video ferment. Once it crossed the viewership threshold for criminal charges, we’d see who was really mad. Thanks to the online mob, not a single customer came in all day. Instead, I got a visit from the police, the fire marshal, and the health department. It turned out the girl had filed a full suite of complaints against me, a tactic she’d learned online. My conscience was clear. I told them to inspect whatever they wanted. I wasn’t worried about that. But one thing bothered me. Why was she so obsessed with me? If she was truly outraged about using corn as fuel, my grill wasn’t the only one doing it. Her actions were clearly meant to destroy me, personally. I couldn’t think of any time I might have crossed her. What could she possibly gain from all this? Something wasn’t right. The grill was forced to close pending the inspections. With the unexpected free time, I decided to drive out to the countryside and sign my contracts for the fall harvest. I’d made a promise to support the local farmers, and I wouldn’t back out, even if my restaurant stayed closed for the rest of the year. The drive out was rough. Recent rains had turned the country roads into a muddy mess, and my car bounced and slid the whole way. When I arrived, I had to wait a long time before the town’s mayor, an old man named Hemlock, finally came out to see me. He looked sour. I remembered my first year buying from them. The whole town had thanked me with tears in their eyes. They said I had saved them, giving them enough money to have a proper holiday season. Seeing their joyful faces was what made me decide to come back every year. “Sarah. You’re here again,” Mayor Hemlock said, sitting down and taking a sip of tea. Maybe he was just having a bad day. I didn’t let his attitude bother me. I wasn’t doing this for thanks. I handed him the contract. “Same as last year. You know the drill.” He didn’t take it. He set his teacup down with a deliberate clink. “I’ve been thinking. This one-dollar-a-pound rate… feels a little low, don’t it? The cheapest charcoal is four dollars a pound. Why shouldn’t you give us that three-dollar difference?” He looked at me with narrowed eyes. “We’re simple country folk, Sarah. We don’t take kindly to being cheated.” This was bizarre. Suddenly everyone was an expert on my corn procurement. “Mayor, you’re misunderstanding,” I said calmly. “First, the contract clearly states that I’m buying your low-grade, unsellable corn. The market price for that is fifty cents a pound. I’m offering double that. Second, I have to cover all the transportation costs myself. When you factor that in, my total expense is about the same as buying charcoal.” The town was tucked away in the hills. A single trip for a truckload of corn cost me thousands in gas alone, not to mention the time and effort. That’s why no other buyers ever came out here. It’s why, for years, their corn sold for pennies on the dollar, if it sold at all. Most of it just sat in their barns and rotted. And there was another thing. I’d noticed they liked to mix small rocks into the corn sacks to add weight. I figured they were just trying to make ends meet, so I always turned a blind eye. I never called them on it. The mayor seemed to waver, maybe convinced by my logic, or maybe just remembering how desperate things were a few years ago. He sighed and finally decided to sign. “Ah, fine. Take your profits, then.” His words stung. He made it sound like I was begging him. I wanted to just get up and leave. But I thought of the other families in the village who were counting on this, so I swallowed my pride. The mayor put on his reading glasses and scrutinized the contract, reading it over and over. Finally, just as he was about to put pen to paper, a hand shot out and knocked the pen from his grasp. “Mayor! She’s ripping you off! Don’t sign it!” I looked up. It was the girl from my restaurant. “I went to the city and did my research,” she announced. “This woman is sucking our blood, paying a dollar a pound for our corn!” “Do you know how much a corn tart costs in the city? Eighteen dollars! She can make three tarts from a single ear of corn that she buys from us for pennies!” The girl’s name was Jenna, and this was her hometown. She puffed out her chest and launched into her grand vision. “I’ve already figured it out. We’ll all pool our money and open our own dessert shop in the city. We’ll process the corn ourselves and sell it at a huge markup! We’ll make a thousand times more than we would selling to this crook!” I almost burst out laughing. So that was it. She wasn’t mad that I was “wasting” their corn; she was mad that I was buying it at all, getting in the way of her get-rich-quick scheme. All that righteous talk was just a cover. But what she didn’t seem to realize was that gourmet products like corn tarts and corn bread are made from premium, sweet corn. This village, with its poor, alkaline soil, could never produce that kind of quality. Besides, fad foods like corn tarts were already past their peak. The novelty had worn off, and no one was paying those inflated prices anymore. But Jenna was lost in her own fantasy business empire. “Mayor! We have to keep this wealth in our community!” she urged. “We just need to raise fifty thousand dollars to open the shop. I promise, I’ll make this whole town rich! We won’t have to bow to greedy capitalists ever again!” Fifty thousand dollars. Split among the families in town, that was a couple of thousand each. For most of them, that was a huge chunk of their annual income. But the mayor didn’t even hesitate. He agreed on the spot and called a town meeting. Everyone was dazzled by the potential profits, scrambling to invest. They turned to me, their faces twisted with indignation. “You witch! Preying on honest farmers! You’ve been getting rich off us for years, haven’t you!” “She knew one ear of corn could be worth fifty bucks, and she cheated us because she thinks we’re all uneducated hicks!” As they worked themselves into a frenzy, someone’s eyes turned red with rage. He grabbed a nearby sickle and swung it at me. Before I could react, a sharp pain seared across my arm. Then another. This wasn’t just about business anymore. They were attacking me. I had tried to do something good, never asking for anything in return, and this was how they repaid me. My consideration, my turning a blind eye to their petty cheating, it was all a joke. I saw another blade coming down. There was no time to dodge. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the impact. The pain never came. Someone had grabbed the man’s wrist, stopping the blade inches from my face. “Assault with a deadly weapon is a felony! I’ve already called the police!” The word “police” sobered the mob. They shuffled back, suddenly timid. My rescuer was a man named Miller. He was from a neighboring town. He had approached me before, asking if I could buy their surplus corn too, but my grill’s demand was limited. I’d had to turn him down. He was just passing through today and saw that my deal had fallen through. He made his offer again. “If they don’t want to sell, we do!” But after being betrayed like this, I was hesitant to get involved again. “Don’t worry,” he said, seeing the look on my face. “We’re not like them. We’re not ungrateful.” “We know our corn isn’t top quality. We’ll take whatever you think is a fair price. And we’ll split the transportation costs with you, fifty-fifty.” Hearing this, Jenna scoffed. “A low price? Fifty cents a pound? Are you crazy? Do you have any idea how much that’s worth once it’s processed? You should invest with me.” Mr. Miller just shook his head. “We’re not looking to get rich quick. We just want an honest, steady income.” I thought it over. His offer was more than fair. I wasn’t the type to let one bad experience scare me off forever. If he was sincere, I was willing to give his town a chance. I drew up a new contract and signed it with him right there. “I’ll be back with the trucks after the harvest.” Jenna watched the whole exchange, her laughter growing louder and more mocking. “Fine, fine. Have it your way. Throw your lot in with the crook. But when you see us rolling in cash, don’t come crawling back, begging for a piece of the pie.” As I got in my car, I took one last look at her.

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The engagement party was winding down. I went to the lounge to find Richard, but stopped short when I heard his drunken voice slurring to a friend. “I don’t love Kelly. The woman I want to marry is Ava. You get me?” His friend sighed. “Then marry Ava. Why go through with an engagement to Kelly?” Richard mumbled, his words thick with alcohol and resentment. “My family demands a match of equals. They’d never let Ava into the Monroe family. But Kelly… she loves me, her family is perfect, my parents approve…” I lowered my eyes, swallowing the bitter taste that rose in my throat. It was true, I loved Richard. But my family, the Langstons, had no shortage of suitors. 1 I gathered the hem of my gown, ready to leave, when I heard his friend speak again. “Keep your voice down. What if Kelly hears you?” I froze, wanting to hear his answer. A moment later, Richard’s voice rose to a shout. “Let her hear! What’s she going to do? She loves me so much, she’d never leave me!” “You have no idea how suffocated I feel. When we were making the toasts tonight… God, I wished it was Ava standing next to me.” “Listen to me,” he said, his voice cracking. “Marry someone you love. Otherwise, you’ll end up miserable, just like me…” A smile, more painful than a sob, twisted my lips. I never knew. I never knew that Richard had agreed to be with me, to propose to me, under such a cloud of misery. My nose tingled, a hot sting behind my eyes. I turned to go and walked straight into a waiter. The hangover-remedy soup I’d ordered for Richard sloshed all over my expensive gown. The waiter began to apologize profusely. “It’s fine,” I said, my voice hollow. “Don’t bother making another one. Just… pretend I was never here.” I had arranged for the soup earlier, watching Richard knock back glass after glass. I thought he was happy. How utterly laughable I was. The waiter tried to say something else, but I was already walking away. I sat in my car for a long time, the world outside a silent blur. Then, I made a call. “The wedding in two months… can you be my groom?” The person on the other end was silent for a long moment. Then, a single word. “Yes.” My grandfather’s health was failing; the doctors had only given him a few years. His greatest wish was to see me married. As long as I was married, my uncles couldn’t touch the inheritance my parents had left me. That’s why, when Richard proposed, I’d said yes. But tonight, I learned the truth of his private agony. I drove back to the house we were supposed to share, our future home, but my heart felt like a hollow cavern. Just a few days ago, I had been excitedly telling the designer exactly how I wanted every room to look. In the living room stood several large suitcases I’d had delivered, still unpacked. Now, it seemed, they would be leaving with me. A dead calm settled over me. It was love at first sight for me with Richard. Our relationship was engineered by his family, a perfect strategic match. At first, he was polite but distant. Then, slowly, he began to return my affection. I thought… I thought he was falling in love with me. Richard’s call came while I was in the middle of ripping our enormous engagement portrait off the bedroom wall. I answered, and his heavy breathing filled the line. “They said you left early. Why didn’t you wait for me?” “Just tired,” I said coolly. He was quiet for a few seconds. “I have something to take care of tonight, so I won’t be coming back. I’ll pick you up for breakfast in the morning.” “Fine.” Tonight was meant to be our first night together in our new home. As soon as he hung up, I drove back to my own apartment and started searching for my important documents. I couldn’t find them anywhere. Then I remembered—I’d brought my birth certificate and passport to Richard’s apartment, thinking it would be more convenient for applying for the marriage license. Since that was off the table, I needed to get them back. The next morning, I drove to Richard’s downtown apartment. He often worked late at the office and wouldn’t come back until the afternoon. But when I opened the door with my key, the first thing I saw was a pair of long, bare legs. Ava, his secretary, was standing there wearing one of my shirts—one I had bought for Richard. Our eyes met. 2 So this was the “something” he had to take care of. “Kelly…” Ava stared at me, her eyes wide with shock. The egg she was frying in the pan began to smoke. “Where’s Richard?” I asked, my voice flat. “He’s… still sleeping.” She bit her lip, a picture of innocent chagrin. The scene was surreal: my fiancé’s secretary, wearing his shirt, making him breakfast in his apartment. But after overhearing his confession last night, my heart felt little more than a dull ache. There was no room for shock. I started toward the bedroom, but Ava blocked my path. “Kelly, this is all my fault,” she pleaded, her voice trembling. “I had too much to drink, and Richard was just worried about me. I was the one who initiated things. It’s all on me. You can hit me, scream at me, just please don’t blame Richard.” By the end of her speech, she was sobbing. I tried to step around her, but she grabbed my arm. I shook her off, and with a sudden shriek, she stumbled backward and collapsed onto the floor. Before I could even react, Richard burst out of the bedroom and shoved me hard. My back slammed against the sharp corner of a console table. A jolt of intense pain shot through me, and I gasped. He wasn’t even dressed, just wearing a pair of boxers. A cluster of fresh red marks on his neck burned into my vision. “Kelly! If you have a problem, take it up with me! Don’t you dare touch Ava! I can explain everything.” Explain? Explain why he was sleeping with his secretary? I opened my mouth to speak, but my gaze fell on a bracelet on Ava’s wrist. It was the Monroe family heirloom. Richard’s grandmother had given it to me, a tradition for every bride who married into the family. A priceless piece of jewelry, now on Ava’s wrist. I stepped forward to get a closer look, but Ava shrank away like I was a monster, hiding behind Richard. “Please, don’t hit me again,” she whimpered. Her shoulders trembled as she cried, the very image of a victim. Richard shielded her, his face dark with fury. “It’s just a bracelet, Kelly. As the future Mrs. Monroe, you shouldn’t be so petty.” So it was true. The bracelet I treasured, the symbol of my place in his family, had been given to her. “If you want to marry her,” I said, my voice steady, “I will step aside.” Richard flinched. The reality of his family’s opposition hit him, and his expression turned blacker than the burnt egg in the pan. “Kelly, it’s a stupid bracelet! If she wants to wear it, let her. I already owe her so much. Can you just stop making things harder for me?” I looked at his heaving chest and realized something with stark clarity: the absence of love is deafeningly obvious. With me, his emotions were always muted, a calm, placid surface. He rarely got angry. But now, for another woman, his face was a mask of cold fury. The realization sent my heart plummeting. A profound exhaustion washed over me. “I’m just here to get my things. I’ll be gone in a minute.” I came out with my documents, and Richard stared at me, his brow furrowed. “What do you need those for?” To marry someone else. To be with someone else. But I saw no need to tell him that. “It’s none of your business.” He instinctively started to follow me to the door, but Ava’s weak, wounded voice called out from behind him. “Richard…” He stopped dead in his tracks and watched as I slammed the door behind me. Outside, I made another call to the same person. “When you get back, let’s get the marriage license first.” “Okay. I’m almost done here. Wait for me.” I looked up at the vast blue sky and thought, maybe things weren’t so bad after all. At least I was free of a rotten man. 3 I had my suitcases moved to a penthouse owned by him and began to set up our new home myself. I worked until evening, when a text from Richard came through. I stared at the message, a humorless laugh escaping my lips, and deleted it. The future Mrs. Monroe? Sorry. I’m no longer interested. Though I was resolute in my decision to leave Richard, our families were still entangled in business. So, until I was ready to make my move, I played my part. At my birthday party, I was on his arm, a fake smile plastered on my face as we accepted congratulations. When I grew tired and slipped out to the balcony for some air, I saw Ava, dressed in a stunning white gown, step gracefully to Richard’s side. They looked good together. A perfect match. I didn’t remember inviting her. A short while later, Richard was summoned to the study by my uncles. As he headed upstairs, he shot a worried glance back at Ava and me. I knew what he was thinking. He was afraid I would hurt her. Once Richard was out of sight, Ava came and sat beside me. She raised her wine glass. “Congratulations, Kelly.” “Are you congratulating me on my fiancé’s infidelity, or on you successfully climbing into his bed?” Her smile faltered, a flash of jealousy in her eyes. Since I wasn’t playing nice, she dropped the act. “You don’t actually think last night was our first time, do you?” She smirked, her tone dripping with provocation. “The night you confessed your feelings to him, the night you two officially got together? He came to me, drunk, holding me and apologizing for how guilty he felt.” “You were out making wishes on shooting stars, Kelly. Did the stars give you what you wanted?” My hand trembled, and red wine sloshed over the rim of my glass onto the floor. The night before I told Richard how I felt, I had seen a shooting star and made a wish. When he agreed to be with me, I’d joyfully told him my wish had come true. He had just smiled and patted my head. I couldn’t stop myself. I threw the rest of my wine in her face. The red liquid stained her expensive dress. I turned to leave, but she grabbed my hand and clamped it around her own throat. “Kelly, I’m sorry… please don’t do this…” I struggled to pull away, confused, and in the next second, she threw herself backward over the balcony railing. It wasn’t a high balcony, only a single story down to the lawn below. I heard Richard’s roar of fury from behind me. He ripped me away, his eyes locked on Ava’s unconscious form on the grass. Then he was gone, flying down the stairs to her side. He looked up at me, his eyes blazing with a hatred so intense it scorched me. He sped away with Ava in his car. She’d broken her leg. She wasn’t dead. The next day, I was trending online. Headlines painted the future Mrs. Monroe as a vicious shrew who couldn’t tolerate a grain of sand in her eye, who had pushed her fiancé’s poor secretary off a balcony. The story they spun was that Ava had only come to the party to deliver an urgent file. The public backlash was immediate and brutal. The Langston Group’s stock plummeted. My uncles pressured me to go to the hospital and apologize. Not wanting to worry my grandfather, I went. I was met by Richard, his face covered in stubble, his eyes shot with blood. The moment he saw me, he lunged, slamming me against the wall, his hands tight around my throat. Just as my vision started to blacken, Ava’s weak voice came from the room. “Richard… don’t do something you’ll regret…” He let go. “If we weren’t engaged,” he snarled, his voice thick with rage, “I would kill you.” He turned and went to her bedside, carefully spoon-feeding her porridge. I watched the scene with a cynical detachment. Ava, however, flinched under my gaze. “Kelly, I was wrong, I really was. Please, forgive me, I’ll break it off with Richard…” Before she could finish, Richard cut her off. “Kelly, get out!” My heart was already numb. I turned and walked away. Photos of my hospital visit were, of course, leaked to the press. The next day, a new story was published: it was all a misunderstanding, an accident. But no one believed it. Someone was carefully orchestrating the narrative, keeping the blame squarely on me. Then, two days later, every negative story about me vanished from the internet. I knew he was back. Eddy. Eddy Cole. He’d had a crush on me in college, but his family was so powerful, their world so complicated, that I had turned him down. We hadn’t spoken since, though he’d sent his congratulations through a mutual friend when he heard I was engaged. The night I heard Richard’s confession, I’d gotten Eddy’s number from that same friend, never imagining he would actually agree to my desperate proposal. Now, he sat across from me in a private dining room, devastatingly handsome. I had to ask. “Eddy, was it you who had the stories taken down?” “Yes,” he said, his gaze steady and serious. We ate in a comfortable silence. With Eddy, I was learning what it felt like to be treated with genuine chivalry. The next day, we got our marriage license. I showed it to my grandfather, who was overjoyed. He’d only met Richard once and barely remembered what he looked like. A moment later, my phone rang. It was Richard. “Where have you been? You haven’t been staying at the new house, have you? And all your suitcases are gone.” His voice was strained. “Kelly, I’m already stressed out cleaning up the mess you made. Can you please stop throwing a tantrum…” I cut him off, my patience gone. “What do you want?” He paused, then his tone softened. “Come back. There’s something I need to discuss with you.” Honestly, I could have just ignored him, but I knew if I didn’t go, he would just go to my uncles. Now that I was legally married, it was time to set the record straight. When he saw me, the frustration on Richard’s face melted away. He rushed toward me and took my wrist. I pulled away instinctively. His voice was gentle, conciliatory. “I was thinking, after we’re married, we should have Ava move in with us. That way, I can look after her. I don’t trust anyone else.” I stared at him in disbelief. He seemed completely oblivious to my shock. “None of this would have happened if your jealousy hadn’t gotten the best of you and you hadn’t pushed her,” he continued, his tone matter-of-fact. “I was going to call the police, but Ava stopped me. You should be grateful to her, Kelly.” “I’ve already had the housekeeper prepare the master bedroom for her. If you want to stay, you’ll have to use the guest room.” Hearing his words, I felt a wave of profound relief that I had woken up when I did. I opened my mouth to tell him that none of this mattered to me anymore, but he cut me off impatiently. “I have to get back to the hospital to take care of Ava. If you need anything, call my assistant.” He started for the door, but just then, his phone rang. My hands were shaking with rage at his audacity, and I accidentally hit the speakerphone button as I answered. Eddy’s clear, calm voice filled the room, laced with an unmistakable tenderness. “Wife, are you coming home for dinner tonight?” Richard froze, his hand on the doorknob. He turned slowly, his face ashen. “Kelly, stop playing these games. Do you really think hiring some guy to call you is going to make me abandon Ava?!”

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Lucian is a merman. A cold, breathtakingly beautiful merman. He also flat-out rejected me. His main issue? We aren’t the same species. I had a meltdown. “What do you mean we’re not the same? We both have big tails, don’t we?” He let out a cold laugh. “Is that really your logic? I’m a merman, Sienna. You? You’re a snake.” He looked down at my tail. It’s pink. Soft, long, and currently swaying back and forth, trying to wrap around his torso. Lucian swatted it away like it was a pest. “Stop clinging to me. Go find your own kind if you’re that lonely.” It was a lightbulb moment. So, I did. I found myself a snake-shifter boyfriend. Later, I ran into Lucian by chance. He stared at me and my new guy, his expression complicated. I ducked my head shyly. “You were right. Sticking with my own kind is actually pretty great.” 1 I didn’t actually know I was a snake-shifter until I was older. When I was tiny, I got hurt bad. Like, bleeding-out-on-the-side-of-the-highway bad. Julian, the head of the Vance family, found me and took me in. The Vances are Shifters—beastkin hiding in plain sight within human society. Because I grew up surrounded by merfolk, for a very long time, I was absolutely convinced— I was a fish, too. I mean, we all had long tails. It wasn’t until Julian told me he had to go out of town for business that things changed. He said Lucian would be watching me while he was gone. “Yes! Oh my god, yes,” I nodded furiously, eyes lighting up at the name. Julian chuckled. “Are you really that excited? You know his temper is terrible.” Is it? I never noticed. Usually, I was too busy staring at his face or getting hypnotized by that gorgeous tail of his. After Julian dropped me off at the estate, I finally saw him again. In the open-air infinity pool. The water surface rippled with an electric blue glow. Lucian was leaning back against the pool’s edge, his tail fully transformed and looking arrogantly perfect. He splashed water onto my foot with a flick of his fin. It was freezing. “Why are you just standing there?” Lucian opened his eyes. “Oops!” Splash. I slid into the pool. Okay, it was obviously on purpose. My pink snake tail, acting “panicked,” immediately wrapped around his waist. “Lucian, I’m scared.” He didn’t even lift an eyelid. He just scooted two feet away. “You’re slimy. Back off.” I am not. Aren’t our tails basically the same— Wait. No. I hadn’t really compared them side-by-side before. Now, under the direct sunlight, the difference was brutal. His scales looked like translucent blue crystals, refracting starlight with every movement of the water. My pink tail, while flexible and soft, had a matte, foggy finish. Like a cheap plastic bead thrown into a pile of diamonds. The realization was depressing. But I was in denial. I told myself mine was just pruney from the water. I touched it. Still smooth. “Lucian, let me touch yours.” “Touch what?” “The tail.” He glanced at me and didn’t say yes. I pouted. Okay, maybe Julian was right about the temper. But then I remembered—Lucian’s tail had been injured once. Of course he wouldn’t like being touched. It happened three years after the Vance family adopted me. I was playing by the coast when a storm hit. I hate the cold, so I curled up in a sea cave, shivering. When the tide started rising like crazy, it was Lucian who shielded my head with his scales, dragging me back to shore against the waves. Because of that, the most beautiful blue scales on his fin were scraped off by the rocks. It bled a lot. I was terrified, crying my eyes out. Julian comforted me, “It’s okay, they’ll grow back. They’ll be even harder than before.” I was skeptical. I used to sneak peeks and try to touch the scar. Whenever he caught me, he’d swat my hand away. I guess he still hates it. But that’s fine. I can compromise. After getting out of the pool, Lucian shifted back to human legs. I didn’t. I kept my tail out, drying it on the lounge chair. “Lucian—” I dragged out his name, looking at him with puppy-dog eyes. “Touch mine instead. It’s super smooth right now.” In my head, this was an act of intimacy. He frowned. “Stop it.” “What does it matter?” I didn’t hide my crush. “We’re going to be together eventually anyway. We might as well get used to it.” “Who says we’re going to be together? We aren’t even the same species.” I froze, my tail halting mid-air. “What do you mean? Don’t we both have big tails?” “Is that your only criteria?” He scoffed. “I am a merman. You are a snake.” My world collapsed. No wonder our tails looked nothing alike. I really was the impostor. I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could process it, the staff announced that Julian was back. 2 Julian brought a girl back with him. Another mermaid. But she was covered in bruises and cuts. Rumor had it a new trafficking ring was hunting Shifters. The prettier you were, the more likely you’d get snatched. Exotic Shifters fetch a high price in the Underground auctions. This mermaid, Stella, had gotten hurt trying to save one of her companions. Apparently, she and the Vance family went way back. When Lucian saw her, he looked genuinely shocked. And nervous. “Stella.” I barely caught her name before Julian ushered me away. He said the smell of blood was too strong. I hate the metallic scent of blood, but I couldn’t help looking back. Lucian—always so cold, so detached—was carefully cleaning Stella’s wounds. His voice was low, raspy. “This is going to sting. Bear with it.” I was so distracted watching them that I walked smack into a wall. I looked up. It was Julian. “They’re the same age,” he explained softly. “They grew up together.” I paused, my gaze drifting back to Stella. Even battered and bruised, her tail was mesmerizing. I unconsciously shuffled a step closer. “Don’t come over here,” Lucian suddenly snapped. I froze. “Your venom… your scent,” he corrected sharply. “It agitates her wounds.” Julian sighed, patting my shoulder. “He’s not targeting you, Sienna. Merfolk have a natural defense mechanism against reptilian Shifters. It’s biological.” That’s when Stella finally noticed me. She looked over, confused. “Who is…?” “The little snake the family adopted,” Lucian said dismissively. Stella looked at me with curiosity. By then, I had already shifted my tail back into legs out of shame. Stella quickly lost interest and turned back to whisper something to Lucian. Once Julian and I were outside, I asked immediately, “Can I stop being a snake? I want a fish tail too.” Julian burst out laughing. “Since when do you hate yourself?” “Fish tails are prettier.” My voice dropped to a whisper. “Lucian doesn’t like snake tails.” Julian’s smile faded. He looked at me with serious eyes. “Sienna, listen to me. You are who you are. Changing it means losing yourself, and besides, you can’t change your genetics.” I thought about it. “But I heard there are doctors in the Underground who do cosmetic mods.” “Who told you that?” Julian’s face darkened. “That’s black market nonsense. It’s dangerous scams.” I shrank back. “I just… Googled it.” Julian sighed. He gave me a lecture about not believing rumors. But he was still worried, so he ordered his bodyguards to keep a close eye on me. The guards liked to tease me. “Hey little snake, show us the tail.” “No.” “Lucian shows his off. Why are you so stingy?” one of them laughed. “Even if he came here, I wouldn’t show it.” He thinks it’s ugly anyway. “Dream on. Lucian doesn’t have time for you. He’s glued to Miss Stella’s side.” I pretended not to hear. But that night, I went to find Lucian. Some things just need to be said out loud. Just like how I told him I loved him a thousand times. I needed to pour out the confusion rotting in my chest. If he truly hated me, if he loved Stella, then I would stop chasing him. But to find Lucian, I had to go through Stella. I followed my memory to the guest wing where she was recovering. I pushed the door open, but Lucian wasn’t there. There was just a massive glass tank in the center of the room. Moonlight filtered through the glass, casting a ghostly blue glow on the water. I held my breath and crept closer. When I saw what was inside, my blood turned to ice. Stella was floating in the water, hair splayed out, tail limp. And at the bottom of the tank… a cloud of blood was blooming. I screamed. Bang! The door was thrown open. In seconds, the room was swarming with people. Someone roughly grabbed my wrist and dragged me out. I heard the whispers. “Typical snake… cold-blooded.” “She was probably jealous of Miss Stella.” … Lucian rushed back just in time to hear the gossip. He looked at me. And he left me with one sentence. “Even if she died, her tail wouldn’t transfer to you.” My mouth fell open. I forgot what I was going to say. It took a long time to remember I had come with a question. But I guess I just got my answer. 3 While chaos consumed the manor, I left. Not just because I knew I was unwanted, but because they had guessed my darkest thought. I was jealous of Stella. I wanted a beautiful tail like hers. I wanted to be looked at by Lucian with that kind of reverence. I wanted to be accepted. I didn’t plan on going back. Before I knew it, I was standing in front of a clinic in the Underground—the “Downlow.” I heard there was a doctor named Silas here. He could modify Shifters. The door opened. A young man stood there, looking down at me. His pupils were vertical slits, rimmed with a faint gold. Cold, yet hypnotic. “What do you need?” My throat was dry. “Can you modify a tail here?” He stared at me for a few seconds, then let out a light chuckle, stepping aside. “Come in.” “You’re a snake-shifter, right?” he asked. I nodded. “Have you made up your mind? Once you accept the modification, your legs will be permanent. You’ll never shift back to your beast form.” I blinked. He misunderstood. “That’s not what I meant. I want to change my snake tail into a fish tail.” He paused, looking surprised. “You misunderstood me, too. The modifications I do… I turn Shifters into humans. Completely. They ask for it so they won’t be auctioned off or treated like freaks anymore.” Oh. So my request was too weird even for the black market. Depressed, I turned to leave. But Silas called out to me. “Why do you want a fish tail?” “It’s prettier,” I answered without hesitation. As I said it, my snake tail popped out, sliding anxiously against the floorboards. “Don’t you think?” He didn’t seem to hear me. His gaze dropped to my tail, and those cold eyes suddenly lit up. “It’s so cute.” His voice was much softer now. I froze, then whipped my tail in annoyance. “Don’t patronize me just to make me feel better.” “Patronize?” He raised a brow. “I’m not taking your money. Why would I need to comfort you?” “Then why…” “Have you ever seen those sugar-frosted gummy candies? The pink ones? Your tail looks exactly like that. How is that not cute?” My face burned. My tail instinctively curled back. But he was faster. His long fingers hovered over my scales, just an inch away. “Can I touch it?” It was a question, but his hand was already so close I could feel the cool aura from his fingertips. I hesitated. Finally, like I was surrendering, the tip of my tail wrapped tentatively around his finger. “Fine. Just once.” He gently squeezed the tip of my tail. A shiver ran down my spine, like a small electric shock. Suddenly, footsteps pounded outside. Voices shouting—searching. Silas froze. He let go of my tail and walked to the door. Knock, knock, knock. A voice came from the other side. Cool, crisp, but with an undeniable urgency. “Did you treat a snake-shifter with a pink tail?” I knew that voice. But I didn’t make a sound. I was afraid of bad news. I was afraid he was here to punish me. “No,” Silas said flatly. “But I smell snake on you.” Silas: “That would be me.” Silence stretched for a few seconds outside. Then, the footsteps faded away. Once it was quiet, Silas closed the door and turned back, looking thoughtful. “That guy… was a merman, wasn’t he?” “High quality, too.” “For a merman of that class to be in a dump like the Downlow… that’s dangerous.” I looked up, staring at him. “Why did you say you smelled like a snake?” He didn’t answer immediately. His vertical pupils locked onto mine. “You tell me.” It clicked. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. A feeling I couldn’t describe surged in my chest. I think… I think I just found one of my own. 4 It was late when Lucian returned to the manor. He stood in the empty hallway, rubbing his thumb against his palm. There was a lingering, faint scent of snake there. He had guessed she was in that clinic. But when the door opened, he was met with the hostile glare of a male snake-shifter. So the scent might not have been hers. He lost her. And the smells of the Underground were too chaotic to track her further. A dull ache throbbed in his chest, like something was squeezing his heart. But when he pressed his hand there, he felt no wound. “Where did you go?” Julian’s voice came from behind. Lucian didn’t answer. He deflected, asking about Stella instead. “Same as before,” Julian paused. “You know she’s injured and anything could happen. Why did you speak so harshly to Sienna?” Lucian’s expression shifted. Why? Probably because he already found her annoying. He hated how she stared at him with those big, sparkling eyes. Hated how she kept coming back no matter how cold he was. He hated how she tried to shove her tail into his hands like it was some precious treasure. He hated her saying, Lucian, I like you so much, you like me too, right? when she knew she’d get no response. “I dislike her,” Lucian said. “You saved her life once.” “She was just a kid then. Too weak to swim back. I pitied her.” Was it just pity? He wouldn’t fall in love with a dull, matte snake. Merfolk and snakes don’t mix. It’s biology. It’s common sense written in their blood. His future partner would be someone like Stella. Same species, same shimmering scales. But when he tried to picture a future with Stella, his mind was a blur. All he could see was a pink snake tail, swaying gently in the back of his memories. Find her first. Lucian spent days leaving early and returning late. He came back smelling of the city’s grime. Finally, Stella stopped him. “Are you… looking for that snake?” she asked softly. Lucian nodded. Stella grabbed his wrist. “Are you really that obsessed with her?” “She was never meant to live with us. She’s not our kind. Snakes are treacherous. What if she hurts people?” Stella’s voice rose to a shrill pitch she rarely used. “I almost died saving our kind from humans, and you want to bring a dangerous predator into our home?” How bad can a little snake be? At worst, she just refuses to show people her tail. Lucian kept looking. Meanwhile, Stella vanished. Julian sent people to find her, but she was gone. But Lucian finally found the little snake. She was standing next to the snake man from the clinic, looking at items on a store shelf. Like a normal couple. So natural. So intimate.

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I walked away from a partnership track at a top Wall Street firm and flew back to the States to slave away for my boyfriend’s startup for three years. Finally, the day came. We rang the NASDAQ opening bell. At the celebration gala, under the crystal chandeliers, my boyfriend made an announcement. He pulled a junior developer—a girl I had hired—into his arms. She was his true fiancée. She leaned into him, fragile and triumphant, raising her champagne flute at me. “Elena, thanks for every line of code you wrote over the last three years. Your work is now registered under my name on the patent filing.” “Oh, and that historic brownstone you sold to keep the company afloat during the seed round? That’s going to be our wedding venue.” Jacob, the man I had loved for seven years, looked at me with a sickening mix of pity and arrogance. “Elena, what we had was gratitude, not love. Here’s a check for half a million. Take it. Go start your own life.” I took the check. Under the gaze of the city’s elite, I tore it into confetti. I built you up to the IPO. I can certainly tear you down to bankruptcy. 1 The hangover headache was splitting my skull, but my phone vibrating against the nightstand was worse. I swiped the screen. Dozens of news alerts clogged my notifications. The headlines were variations on a theme, linking my name with Jacob Thorne’s. I tapped the trending article. It went live at 3:00 AM. I had left the gala less than four hours ago. Jacob’s PR team was nothing if not efficient. The press release was a masterclass in corporate gaslighting. “Due to differences in strategic vision, co-founder Elena Shand has voluntarily stepped down and received a generous severance package.” “CEO Jacob Thorne stated: ‘Though it is difficult, we appreciate Ms. Shand’s contributions. This company will always be her home.’” The photo was curated perfectly. One of me looking cold and detached during a board meeting. Another of Jacob at the bell-ringing ceremony, looking teary-eyed and exhausted. He painted himself as the sentimental, burdened entrepreneur. I was the cold-hearted exec taking the money and running. Generous severance? You mean the check I shredded? Hilarious. I ignored the phone and walked barefoot into the bathroom. The cold tiles grounded me. The woman in the mirror looked tired, but her eyes were sharp, burning with a cold fire. Jacob, you think a few press releases can scrub the slate clean? I threw on a blazer and drove to the office. It was rush hour. The lobby was buzzing. Employees who used to bow and scrape now avoided eye contact, parting around me like I was contagious. I walked straight to the turnstiles. BEEP. The light turned red. The screen flashed two offensive words: ACCESS DENIED. I tried another lane. ACCESS DENIED. In the security booth, Old Hank, who I used to bring coffee to every morning, buried his head in a logbook. I tapped my knuckles on the glass. “Hank.” He hesitated, then stood up slowly, forcing a pained smile. “Ms… Ms. Shand.” “What’s wrong with my badge?” “Well…” Hank’s eyes darted around. “Orders came down. Your clearance… it was revoked at midnight.” He lowered his voice. “It’s not just the doors. Your email, internal accounts, Slack… everything’s been wiped.” So much for “this company will always be her home.” I couldn’t even get past the doormat. I drove back to my apartment. It was a high-end loft only ten minutes from the HQ. Jacob had “thoughtfully” leased it for me, saying, “Elena, you work so hard. I hate seeing you commute. Live close so you can rest.” In hindsight, it was just so I could spend more hours coding. My landlord was waiting in the lobby, arms crossed, tapping his foot. “Ms. Shand, finally!” He shoved a printout in my face. “Look at this! Your company just emailed. They stopped the automatic rent payments as of today!” “The lease says the corporate entity pays. If they stop, you go.” He looked me up and down with a sneer. “You have three days to vacate.” “Or I call the Sheriff to toss your stuff on the curb.” I stared at him until he flinched. “Three days,” he barked, retreating to the elevator. “I’m not running a charity.” I walked into the empty loft and collapsed onto the sofa. Locked out of the company. Kicked out of my home. Jacob was systematically erasing me. I pulled out my phone. Over the last three years, I had mentored dozens of engineers. They called me “Master,” “Mentor,” “Boss.” I dialed Marcus, my first protégé. Three rings. Declined. I tried Kevin. Straight to voicemail. I tried a third, a fourth… Radio silence. Just as I was about to throw the phone against the wall, a text popped up from a burner number. “Elena, it’s Sarah, the intern.” “Don’t call Marcus or the guys. Jacob called an all-hands meeting at 8 AM. He said anyone caught talking to you gets fired immediately and blacklisted from the industry.” “They’re scared… take care of yourself.” The number went dead immediately after. My finger hovered over the screen. Good. Burn the bridges. Salt the earth. I packed the few things that mattered—clothes, some cheap toiletries, and an old, battered laptop. It was a brick I’d bought at a pawn shop during the lean startup days. Once the funding came in, I’d tossed it in a closet. I sat on my suitcase, looking around the apartment I’d lived in for three years. Jacob, you stole my company, my patent, and my home. You cut my network. You think you’ve won? You think unplugging my ethernet cable stops me? I opened the old laptop and blew the dust off the keyboard. Power on. The screen flickered, and a familiar command line interface greeted me. You revoked my admin privileges. You locked the front door. But you forgot one thing. I wrote the kernel architecture of that entire building. I wrote the foundational code of the platform. My fingers flew across the keyboard. Lines of green text cascaded down the black screen like a digital waterfall. I hit Enter. ACCESS GRANTED.

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The third year after my death, my husband sent me a lawsuit. He was suing me. The papers alleged that the kidney I had donated to his childhood sweetheart, Olivia, was defective. He, of course, received no response. To force me out of hiding, he held a press conference, publicly transferring twenty percent of his company’s shares to her. When that failed, he finally drove back to my hometown, his patience exhausted. Our old neighbor was baffled. “Maya? We haven’t seen her since her grandfather passed.” He pounded on my family’s door, his fury a palpable thing. My sister was the one who opened it. “Ethan? Don’t you know? My sister has been dead for two years.” 1 The man, my husband, jammed his hands into the pockets of his tailored slacks. A derisive laugh escaped his lips. “What new game is Maya playing now? Faking her death? Trying to make me feel guilty?” His voice was laced with ice. “She had the nerve to drive her car at Olivia two years ago. All I did was cut off her credit cards, and she throws a tantrum like this?” He shook his head, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “If Olivia’s kidney hadn’t started acting up today, I never would have forgiven her.” My sister Chloe’s brow furrowed, her expression a mixture of grief and disbelief. “My sister has been dead for two years. What are you talking about, you forgive her? That’s insane.” Ethan ignored Chloe completely, his gaze shifting past her into the small house. A flash of white fur caught his eye; our little dog, Buddy, was wagging his tail. “Don’t even try to lie to me,” Ethan scoffed. “Buddy’s here. Where could Maya have possibly gone?” He lowered his voice, the sound a low threat. “You tell her I’m giving her an out. If she doesn’t take it, she can stay gone forever.” As if he understood, Buddy limped forward, barking twice at Ethan’s expensive shoes. Chloe reached down, scooping the little dog into her arms to soothe him. But it was too late. Buddy’s tongue lolled out, and his small body was seized by violent, spasming convulsions. Chloe scrambled, frantically searching for the small oxygen tank and the tongue depressor. Seeing Buddy like that, a fissure of pain cracked through my soul. I instinctively reached out, my ghostly arms trying to embrace him. But they passed right through his trembling body. The cold reality washed over me again. I wasn’t in this world anymore. I could never hold my loved ones again. A look of disgust twisted Ethan’s handsome features. “Damn dog. You want me to kick you again?” Two years ago, in a fight over Olivia, Ethan had slapped me across the face. Buddy, ever loyal, had sunk his teeth into Ethan’s leg. Ethan had kicked him so hard he flew across the room. The attack had left Buddy with permanent damage to his right leg and these terrifying stress-induced seizures. Ethan’s voice dropped to a low warning. “I’ll say it one last time. Get Maya out here. Now.” “She’s dead!” Chloe’s voice was a raw, desperate scream. “And even if she were alive, she would never want to see you again! I’d make her stay away from you, find a good man, and build a life that had absolutely nothing to do with you!” Ethan didn’t believe a word of it. “So that’s it?” He sneered. “She’s shacked up with some other guy behind my back? Just like Olivia said. A cheap, faithless woman. I must have been blind to ever marry her.” The words struck me like a physical blow, tearing through the fabric of my spirit. So, this is what it felt like. Even in death, your heart could still break. He and his perfect Olivia had already pushed me to my grave, and still, he stood here, desecrating my memory with his filth. The agony was a wildfire in my soul, scorching me from the inside out. “How dare you,” Chloe choked out, tears streaming down her face. “Get out. Get out of our house!” Ethan’s eyes, cold and hard, swept over her. “Your house? Every brick and board of this place was paid for by me, Ethan Blackwood. Didn’t your sister tell you? Even the money for your deadbeat brother’s wedding—that came from my pocket.” It was true. Ethan had been our family’s twisted savior. When my mother was dying, he’d paid the medical bills that saved her life. When my brother’s fiancée got pregnant and her family pressured her to have an abortion, Ethan had provided the money that allowed them to marry, the money that allowed my nephew to be born. And so, in his mind, everything I gave, everything he took, was simply a debt being repaid. What he never knew, what he never bothered to ask, was that I was born with only one kidney. The doctor who did my pre-donation physical, the one who was supposed to protect me, had been bought off by Olivia long before. I only found out on the operating table. The anesthesiologist, in on the scheme, had given me half the standard dose. I drifted in and out of a hazy, paralyzed consciousness, a silent witness to my own violation. I heard them chatting idly as they worked. I felt the searing pain as they removed my only healthy kidney, replacing it with a cold, mechanical device that was a torture chamber inside my own body. After the surgery, a severe infection took hold. Complications followed with terrifying speed. Less than two weeks later, I was dead. And all the while, Ethan was by Olivia’s side, whispering comforting words, tending to her recovery, never once thinking of me. Chloe was sobbing now, her composure shattered. “Mr. Blackwood, if you don’t believe me, then go to the hospital where she had the surgery! Go and ask them!” “They have my sister’s death certificate!” Ethan let out a cold, humorless laugh. “I already did. They told me she was discharged without any complications. You can’t even get your lies straight.” That wasn’t what happened. I died in that hospital. They couldn’t save me. But a simple lie, one that could be disproven with a single phone call, was all it took for Ethan to believe what he wanted to believe. “Ethan Blackwood! You dare show your face here!” A new voice, low and shaking with rage, cut through the tension. My brother, Leo, stood in the doorway, his eyes burning red. 2 Leo had just gotten home from his construction job, his face streaked with grime and exhaustion. But the weariness was eclipsed by the inferno of fury in his eyes. “I’ve paid back every cent we owed you,” he growled. “What the hell are you still doing here?” Ethan calmly took a cigarette from the pack his assistant offered him, leaning into the flame. Smoke curled around his face, obscuring his expression. “Leo. Your family leeched off my wife, and through her, you leeched off me. Do you really think a debt like that can ever be ‘paid in full’?” A flicker of pain crossed Leo’s face. He looked down, his voice a low murmur. “You’re right. I was a burden to her. But you… you have no right to say that to me.” He lunged forward, grabbing the collar of Ethan’s expensive shirt. “I was the only one who told her not to marry you. She knelt on our doorstep for a day and a night to get my blessing…” His voice broke. “And what was the result? You shattered her heart. You got her killed! You should be off somewhere with your precious Olivia, living happily ever after. You have no business being here, disturbing her spirit!” “Ethan! You’re a piece of garbage, worse than an animal!” Ethan’s face hardened. He calmly pressed the glowing tip of his cigarette onto the back of Leo’s hand. Flesh sizzled. “Leo!” Chloe screamed. “It was just a kidney,” Ethan said, his voice dangerously quiet. “I gave her ten million dollars for it. What kind of garbage is that generous?” He shoved Leo back. “She agreed to it herself. Don’t you dare try to blame me now.” Leo cradled his burned hand. “What ten million? The fifty thousand for the wedding and the half-million for Mom’s treatment, I paid it all back! Stop spewing your lies!” “You took the money and now you deny it. Is everyone in this family so disgusting?” Ethan’s patience snapped. He gestured to the black-suited men who had been waiting silently by his car. “Grab them. Let the dogs out. Time to teach them some manners.” Panic seized me. My spectral form dropped to its knees in a useless plea as the security guards stormed the house, surrounding my family. Vicious, slobbering dogs, bred for fighting, were unleashed from the back of an SUV. They lunged. My brother shielded my sister, but Buddy was too small, too slow. He was torn apart in a blur of fur and blood. “No! Stop! Please, stop!” I shrieked, but no one could hear me. Tears of blood streamed down my face. Only Buddy, in his final moments, looked up, his dying eyes seeming to find mine. My Buddy. You knew I was here the whole time, didn’t you? And all I could do was watch him die. “That was just a small lesson,” Ethan snarled, his face a mask of rage. “You have three days. Tell Maya to come back on her own. Otherwise, what happened to that mutt is what happens to you.” The door slammed shut, shaking the small house to its foundations. He would do it. Years ago, after I’d said something unflattering about Olivia, he had systematically destroyed my family’s business, driving my father into a stress-induced illness from which he never recovered. When it came to protecting Olivia, Ethan was a force of nature, destroying anything and anyone in his path. For two years, my soul has been tethered to him by the ghost of that stolen kidney. It is a fate more agonizing than any hell I could have imagined. Downstairs, in his car, his phone rang. The name on the screen was Olivia. Instantly, the rage vanished from Ethan’s face, replaced by a soft tenderness. “Hey, Liv. What’s up?” My spirit was pulled along, an invisible passenger. I watched him, my heart aching as his entire demeanor changed. “Ethan, honey,” Olivia’s voice purred through the speaker. “Is Maya still hiding from us?” A delicate, fake cough. “It’s all my fault. My body is so weak, it couldn’t even handle the rejection. I ruined the beautiful kidney she gave me. I bet she’ll never agree to give me another one…” Her cloying, manipulative tone made me want to vomit. “Don’t be silly,” Ethan cooed. “How could you say that? We’ll get her the best bio-printed artificial kidney on the market. She’ll do it whether she wants to or not.” He laughed. “The doctors said your body can only accept a living transplant. Maya works out all the time, she’s as strong as an ox. She’s been living just fine with an artificial one, hasn’t she?” He spent another thirty minutes soothing her before he reluctantly hung up. Just then, another assistant, a younger man, knocked on the car window. “Mr. Blackwood, sir. An anonymous email just came through. It’s a death certificate…” Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Whose?” “It’s… it’s for Ms. Maya.” 3 Ethan took the printed document from his assistant with an air of casual indifference. My name, Maya, was clearly typed across the top. He let out a short, sharp laugh. “Maya, you really are something else. Forging a death certificate just to avoid me? Do you really think that’s going to work?” The assistant hesitated. “Sir, I don’t think it’s a forgery. I ran a check with the county clerk’s office, and the police department confirmed it as well…” “Enough!” Ethan cut him off, his voice sharp with irritation. “It’s obviously another one of her little games. She wants me to regret what I did. She can dream on.” He jabbed a finger at the man. “Find her. I don’t care where she’s hiding. Tear this state apart inch by inch if you have to, but you will find her.” The assistant sighed, nodding meekly. “Yes, Mr. Blackwood.” A week passed. The assistant returned, his face pale and unsettled. “Sir, the private investigators have reported back. They’ve… they’ve confirmed Ms. Maya’s death. The body was cremated at the municipal funeral home. Her brother, Leo, signed for the ashes. There’s no mistake.” Ethan’s brow furrowed. “Bullshit! Maya loves life more than anyone I know. She’d never just give up and die. This is the woman who went on some crazy spiritual quest in the desert just to find some miracle cure for a damn fever!” A bitter laugh escaped my spectral form. He had no idea. That trip to the New Mexico desert wasn’t for me. That year, Ethan had contracted a rare, aggressive infection on a business trip to South America. The best doctors, the strongest antibiotics—nothing could break his fever. I heard a rumor about a reclusive herbalist in a remote desert community who had an ancient remedy. I drove for days, then hiked for miles into the mountains, the high altitude leaving me dizzy and breathless, on the verge of collapse. But I found the old woman in her isolated cabin. I got the remedy. And whether it was the herbs or my desperate faith, I’ll never know, but after he took it, Ethan’s fever broke. And he thought I did it all for myself. The irony was almost funny. The assistant looked deeply uncomfortable. “But sir, I hired two separate firms. They both came back with the same result. It’s possible that Ms. Maya really is…” “Bullshit!” Ethan slammed his fist on his desk. “I know her better than that! She’s relentless. She never gives up until she gets what she wants, and she was determined to be stuck to me for the rest of our lives.” A cruel, knowing smile spread across his face. “Maybe she knew her kidney was failing all along. She’s playing dead to avoid taking responsibility. I bet she’s off somewhere right now, laughing her ass off.” The assistant was stunned into silence. “But sir, that’s… that’s incredibly dramatic.” Ethan’s smile widened. “She was the star of the drama club in college, remember? Faking her own death is right up her alley. She’s a professional.” The assistant had no response. “So, Mr. Blackwood,” he finally managed. “Should I tell them to continue the investigation?” Ethan lit another cigarette, blowing a perfect smoke ring. “Yes. I want to know exactly which funeral home, which crematorium. I want to know where the ashes are buried.” He took a long drag, his eyes glinting. “I want to see just how perfect Maya’s little performance really is.” I stood behind him, this man I had loved for seven years, and felt the last embers of my affection turn to ice. My soul felt a little more transparent, a little more faded. Another week went by. The assistant came to report, his expression grim. He placed a file on Ethan’s desk. “I found it. Ms. Maya was cremated at the City Central Funeral Home. The date of cremation was two years ago.” He took a deep breath. “Her ashes are interred at Green Hills Memorial Park, just outside the city. Section C, row six, plot eight.” “The groundskeeper confirmed it. Her brother and sister visit every year on her birthday.” Ethan’s face was a thundercloud. “Well, well,” he whispered, his lips barely moving. “She really thought of everything.” He shot up from his chair, his movements sharp and violent. “You’re really committed to hiding from me, aren’t you, Maya?” He strode towards the door. “Let’s go. We’re taking a drive to Green Hills.” 4 I was a freshman in college when that photo was taken. My smile was shy, my eyes full of a hopeful, uncomplicated light. Ethan stood frozen before the headstone, his gaze locked on that black-and-white image of a girl he barely remembered. His assistant hovered a respectful distance away, not daring to breathe. My soul drifted beside them, a wave of melancholy washing over me as I looked at my own grave. Leo took such good care of it. My mother, broken by grief, had followed me into death the year after I passed. “Dig it up.” Ethan’s voice was a harsh rasp, making his assistant jump. “Sir? What… what did you say?” “Are you deaf? I said dig up her grave.” The assistant’s face went white. “Mr. Blackwood, we can’t do that! That’s… that’s a desecration! Ms. Maya is gone. Please, let her rest in peace.” Ethan was relentless. “If you won’t do it, you can pack your things and be out of my company by the end of the day. All of you.” The bodyguards exchanged uneasy glances, but they were paid to obey. With grim faces, they picked up shovels from the groundskeeper’s shed and began to dig. Ethan watched, his eyes never leaving the disturbed earth, until the shovels struck something hard. A small, simple urn was lifted from the ground. He snatched it from the bodyguard’s hands and wrenched the lid open. I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard, a tense exhalation of breath just before his hands moved. The assistant and the bodyguards respectfully looked away. A sound cut through the quiet cemetery—a laugh. It was sharp, triumphant, and utterly devoid of warmth. “Hahahaha! I knew it! I knew she was playing me! Maya, let’s see you act your way out of this one!” The assistant, bewildered, glanced at the urn. His jaw dropped. “It’s… empty.”

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1 The day I was sentenced to death for a crime I didn’t commit, my fiancée Elena married my stepbrother. My mother coughed up blood and died upon hearing the news, while my father’s mistress celebrated at the head table. During five years in prison, I endured beatings and pain, surviving only on thoughts of revenge. Then, suppressed evidence emerged, proving my innocence. I walked out, buried the name “Caleb Rivera,” and plunged into the violent underworld of the borderlands. The man who rose from the corpses was Vince Vance—a feared name in the global arms trade. Two years later, I returned to New York as a munitions tycoon to visit my mother’s grave. As my jet landed, the city’s elite gathered to welcome “Mr. Vance.” On my way out, I saw Elena standing pale at the edge of the crowd. “Caleb?” she whispered. She rushed over, grabbing my arms. “You’re alive! Why didn’t you come for me?” I calmly removed her fingers from my sleeve. “Ms. Elena, have some dignity.” Taking a silk handkerchief, I wiped where she’d touched me, deliberately showing the platinum band on my ring finger. “My wife is a germaphobe.” … Elena’s gaze locked onto the ring. Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Wife? Caleb, don’t be delusional. Look at you.” The crowd began to whisper, their looks of admiration turning to suspicion. “Isn’t that the Rivera convict? The one who was on death row?” “Where is security? Get him out of here! If he upsets Mr. Vance, we’re all finished!” The man who had just been handing me his business card sneered, shoving me. “Get lost! A convict has no business at a gathering like this!” In the commotion, the handkerchief my wife had embroidered for me fell to the marble floor. I reached down to retrieve it, but a stiletto heel slammed down on the fabric. Elena looked down at me, her eyes wet but hard. “Seven years… Caleb, if you were alive, why didn’t you come see me?” I stared at the white silk, now stained with the dirt from her shoe. My eyes turned cold. “See you? See you marry my stepbrother? See you become my sister-in-law?” Elena flinched. “No! I had no choice back then! You don’t understand!” I let out a low, humorless laugh. I would never forget. Seven years ago, in that courtroom. When the judge read the death sentence, my father and Elena didn’t cry. They exhaled. They smiled. That relief was a dull knife sawing at my heart. Elena scanned my appearance, then looked behind me at the empty exit. “Why did you come out of the VIP gate? Do you know the arms dealer, Mr. Vance?” I smirked and shook my head. After all, how can one know oneself? Elena let out a breath, her posture relaxing. “Caleb, I’m begging you. Don’t cause a scene today. We have bet everything on making a connection with this Mr. Vance.” Her eyes drifted to my phone, which lit up with a notification. The lock screen showed me holding my wife, with our two-year-old daughter in my arms. Elena froze, then let out a scoff. “God, you haven’t changed. Still so childish. Did you Photoshop that just to make me jealous?” Her arrogance reminded me of our youth. I once flew halfway across the world just because she said she missed me, just to sing her to sleep. I thought devotion would be returned with devotion. I was an idiot. Seeing my silence, she pitied me. “Give it up. Even if you play pretend, I won’t feel anything for you anymore.” I ignored her narcissism. I pointed to her foot. “Give me the handkerchief.” She looked confused that I cared about a piece of cloth. She lifted her foot, picked it up with two fingers as if it were toxic waste, and sneered. “It’s just a dirty rag. Is this all you’re worth now?” She tossed it into a nearby trash can. Without hesitation, I reached into the bin. Amidst the gasps of the crowd, I retrieved it, carefully dusting off the ash and grime. Elena’s disdain overflowed. “No wonder you came out that exit. You’re working as a janitor now? Caleb, if you’re willing to beg, I can ask your brother to give you a job. At least… you won’t have to be a bottom-feeder.” I folded the cloth reverently and placed it back in my inner pocket. “No need. I didn’t come back to beg for a job.” I looked her dead in the eye. “I came back to balance the ledger.” “You? With what power?” she snapped. I didn’t answer. I turned and walked away. My phone rang. The moment I saw the caller ID, the ice in my veins melted. “Daddy!” My daughter Mia’s voice was a balm to my soul. “Grandpa said we can come see you and Grandma in two days! Do you miss us?” “Every second of every day, sweetheart.” My wife took the phone. Her voice was calm, dangerous, and loving all at once. “Vince, everything is arranged. My father says when we land, we need to pay our proper respects to your mother.” Two years ago, I was a nobody fighting in illegal death matches in the jungle, half-dead. Isabella found me. I didn’t know then that the fragile-looking woman was the only heir to a munitions empire. When I healed, she asked if I dared to trade my life for a future. I had one condition. “I want revenge.” She smiled. “Done.” I hung up and drove straight to the cemetery. For seven years, I had dreamed of kneeling before my mother. But when I arrived at the plot number, there was nothing but an empty pit. My heart hammered against my ribs. I stormed into the management office. “Where is Sarah Rivera’s grave?!” The clerk checked the logs and gave me a weird look. “Who are you to her? That grave was moved three years ago… to the pet sector.” My mind went blank. I stumbled to the pet cemetery adjacent to the grounds. There, next to a lavish tombstone for a dog, was my mother’s headstone, tossed carelessly in the corner, overgrown with weeds. A primal rage, hot and blinding, consumed me. I got in my car and drove to the Rivera estate. I kicked open the doors. My stepmother, Vivian, was wearing a birthday crown, surrounded by guests singing to her. They were celebrating her birthday on the anniversary of my mother’s death. “Where is my mother?!” I roared. Vivian turned pale, then squeezed out crocodile tears as she looked at my father. “I was just afraid Sarah would be lonely down there. When our dog, Buster, died, I thought they could keep each other company…” “You buried my mother with a dog?!” My stepbrother, Liam, stepped forward, swirling his wine glass. “Bro, relax. Your mom was a bitch, Buster was a dog. It’s a match made in heaven, isn’t it?” Laughter rippled through the room. My fists clenched so hard my knuckles turned white. “You forget that without my mother’s money, this family would be on the streets! You’re living on her blood!” “Ungrateful bastard!” My father, Richard, smashed his glass. “Seven years gone and you come back to curse us? Drag him out! I have no son!” Bodyguards rushed me. I threw them off like ragdolls. “Anyone who hurt her will pay in blood!” I screamed. Outside, a thunderstorm broke. Rain hammered the earth. Vivian ran out with an umbrella. “Caleb, it’s pouring. Take this.” As she leaned in, ostensibly to give me the umbrella, she whispered in my ear. “You don’t know how she really died, do you?” I froze. Vivian smirked, her red lips curling like a demon’s. “She was on her knees begging me to save you. But I told her… I told her you were sentenced to death. She vomited blood right onto my shoes. It was… disgusting.” Boom. Something snapped in my brain. The grief was a tsunami. I grabbed Vivian by the throat. I squeezed. Her eyes bulged. She clawed at my hands, feet kicking the air. “Let… go…” “He’s crazy! Save Mrs. Rivera!” The guests panicked. Richard screamed, “Kill him! Take the animal down before he kills her!” But I wasn’t the weak Caleb anymore. I was Vince, forged in war zones. I threw Vivian aside and dismantled the first wave of bodyguards. “Break his legs!” Richard shrieked. More men poured in. I was overwhelmed. Suddenly, a figure burst through the rain. “Caleb! No!” Elena wrapped her arms around me from behind. In the past, whenever my bipolar disorder flared, she would hold me like this. She was my anchor. My savior. Even now, in this moment of life and death, a pathetic part of me wondered: Is she trying to save me? I hesitated. “Don’t be afraid,” she whispered against my ear. “It’ll be over soon.” A sharp pain pricked my neck. A syringe. Muscle relaxant. High dose. My strength evaporated instantly. I collapsed into the mud. “Hold him down!” The guards pinned my limbs. One of them stomped on my shin. Snap. The agony was blinding, but I couldn’t scream. My muscles wouldn’t obey. They grabbed my hair and slammed my head into the pavement, forcing me to kowtow to a gasping Vivian. Thud. Thud. Blood and rain blinded me. Richard looked at me with pure disgust. “Mr. Vance is coming tonight. We can’t have this convict’s blood on the floor. Bad luck.” “Throw him in the trash,” he ordered. “Since he misses his mom so much, send him to her.” They dragged me like a sack of meat and tossed me into the mud next to the dog grave. The rain was freezing. Darkness began to take me. Then, footsteps. Not the chaotic stomping of the guards. The disciplined, rhythmic march of an army. Dozens of polished black shoes surrounded me. A pair of familiar heels stopped by my face. “Vince. We’re here to take you home.” My wife’s voice. Before I blacked out, I rasped, “Before home… revenge.” She pulled my muddy, broken body into her pristine coat. “Done. I’ll burn this place to the ground for you.” Night fell. The Rivera Gala was in full swing. The entire upper crust of New York was there, waiting for the legendary head of the Vance family. Under the flashing lights, an old man walked in, flanked by a wall of security. Arthur Vance. Richard and Vivian practically sprinted to greet him, bows deep and servile. “Mr. Vance! An honor! A true honor!” “We are humbled by your presence!” Richard bent so low his nose nearly touched his knees. Elena and Liam stood by, smiles plastered on their faces. Arthur Vance sat stone-faced. He didn’t take the wine offered to him. He didn’t even look at them. The glass hovered in the air. The room grew awkward. Finally, Arthur cleared his throat. The room went silent. “I am here to introduce someone.” He gestured to the grand doors. The doors swung open. I rolled in, sitting in a wheelchair pushed by my beautiful wife. My daughter sat on my lap, her arms around my neck. “Daddy,” she chirped. The word echoed in the silent hall. “Caleb… Rivera?!” Elena gasped, dropping her glass. Cameras flashed like lightning. Vivian was the first to recover. She pointed a shaking finger at Isabella. “You trash! Where did you hire these actors? Did you rent the kid too?” Liam laughed nervously. “What kind of bastard claims a convict as a father? Brother, have you no shame?” Richard was trembling with rage. He glanced at the silent Arthur Vance, then roared at me. “Who let this cripple in?! Security! Throw him out!” He turned to Arthur, bowing frantically. “Mr. Vance, please forgive me! This is my estranged, good-for-nothing son! An escaped convict! I disowned him years ago! We will remove this filth immediately!” Guards moved toward my wheelchair. Arthur Vance, who had been a statue of ice, suddenly slammed his cane onto the floor. BANG. “Who dares touch my son-in-law?!” In the rafters, red laser dots appeared on the foreheads of Richard, Vivian, Liam, and every guard who had taken a step. Silence. Absolute, terrifying silence. My father-in-law stood up, ignoring the pale Rivera family, and walked to my side. He placed a hand on my shoulder. “Tonight, I have an announcement.” He looked at the crowd. “From this moment on, the entire Vance empire belongs to my son-in-law, Vince Vance. Formerly known as Caleb Rivera.” Elena stumbled back, her knees giving out.

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It was 2:00 AM. My roommates were screaming at their screens, on a losing streak in ranked. I woke up, seething with annoyance, and went to the bathroom. While I was in there, a news alert popped up on my phone: [URGENT: An adult gorilla has escaped the city zoo due to unknown circumstances. Residents are advised to lock all doors and windows. Do not go out late at night.] When I got back to the dorm, I shoved my earplugs in and tried to force myself back to sleep. In the dark, I silently cursed them. If that gorilla broke in and mauled them to death, maybe I’d finally get some peace and quiet. The next morning, my RA (Resident Advisor) was shaking me awake, her face twisted in pure terror. “Dead. They’re all dead. “Lily, wake up! Oh my god!” 1 I was still groggy, but the sight of the RA made me sit up fast. I checked the time. 9:00 AM. Damn it. The other four girls in the dorm had been gaming all night, screaming and raging. I hadn’t slept a wink. Now I’d overslept and missed my morning class. I scrambled to get dressed and climbed down from my bunk, ready to apologize to the RA and grab my books. But the RA didn’t say a word. She just stared at the floor, eyes bulging. I followed her gaze. And then I screamed. Two of my roommates were lying on the linoleum in twisted, unnatural poses. Their eyes were wide open, staring at nothing. Their pajamas were soaked in red. They looked… they looked like broken dolls. 2 My legs gave out. I stumbled, barely catching myself on the bed frame. The blood had pooled all the way under my bunk. My heart was hammering against my ribs like it wanted to break out. I swallowed hard, dry and painful. To confirm what my brain refused to process, I stumbled toward the bodies and checked for breath. Nothing. Up close, the horror was worse. Their clothes were shredded by what looked like massive claws. Their bodies were covered in deep gouges. And their throats… chunks of flesh had been torn right out. I scrambled backward, crab-walking until I hit the wall, paralyzed. My stomach lurched. I dry heaved, nothing coming up but bile. The RA finally snapped out of her trance, grabbing my shoulder. “Lily! There are five of you in this suite. Where are the other two? “Are they okay?” Her question hit me like a slap. Right. Where were the other two? “Quick, help me look! Maybe they’re hiding!” I nodded, taking a shaky breath. I checked the bunks. I pulled back the curtain on Bed 1. My roommate Sarah was curled up under the duvet, her back to me. Terrified she was dead too, I climbed up to shake her. The moment I touched her, her body flopped over, limp. Her throat was gone. The mattress was a sponge of blood. “Ahhhhhhh!” I recoiled, falling backward off the ladder and hitting the floor hard. At the same time, the RA found the fourth body. On the ground outside. She had fallen from our sixth-floor window. Smashed on the pavement below. I didn’t even feel the pain in my twisted ankle. My mind was snapping. All I could think was: I spent the entire night sleeping in a room with four corpses. And those wounds… they looked like they’d been mauled by a wild animal. 3 I clutched my head. It was splitting, a migraine drilling behind my eyes. I hadn’t even processed the fear yet. Then, the sirens started wailing downstairs. 4 Our dorm building was taped off. The school issued a gag order—no one was allowed to talk about it. Not long after, the RA and I were taken to the station for questioning. The RA came out quickly, looking grim. Then the detectives called me into the interrogation room. “What time did you go to sleep last night?” I bit my nail, trying to remember. “After I got woken up… I probably fell back asleep around 4 AM. They were gaming too loud. Screaming at the screen. It was impossible to sleep.” The two detectives exchanged a look. “After you fell asleep, you didn’t hear anything else?” I shook my head. “No. Nothing.” I knew how fake that sounded. My four roommates had been slaughtered. There must have been a struggle. They wouldn’t have just waited quietly to die. If their gaming could wake me up, surely their screams for help would have too. But I really didn’t hear a thing. I didn’t want to lie. The detective chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “The girls in the dorm next door said your room was screaming all night. They almost called the RA to check if you guys were in trouble. But since your room is constantly making noise, they figured it was just another gaming session and ignored it.” “And yet, you say you heard nothing after 4 AM?” Hearing his skepticism, I felt a weird urge to laugh. My roommates… they were obsessed with finding “cracked” guys online to carry them in ranked matches. One guy carrying four girls. They always lost. They were close friends, inseparable, but toxic. When they lost, they’d mute their mics and trash-talk the guy carrying them, calling him trash. But the second they unmuted? “Op-pa, big brother, you’re so good!” It was annoying as hell. Because of them, I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in months. That’s why I had that thought last night. I hope the gorilla mauls you all to death. I picked at my cuticles. It was just a thought born of anger. But now… they were actually dead. The police noticed the shift in my expression. “Did you remember something?” I looked up. After a moment of hesitation, I decided to come clean. “At 2:20 AM, I woke up to go to the bathroom. My phone popped an alert: A gorilla escaped from the city zoo. “Our dorm window wasn’t latched properly. I suspect… maybe the gorilla climbed up the drainpipes and got in. “They must have been mauled by the gorilla!” As I said it, my heart raced. I was terrified that my curse had actually come true. I rubbed my temples. The lack of sleep was causing tinnitus—a high-pitched ringing in my ears. My eyelids felt like lead. “So, you heard the gorilla?” “No. It probably came in after I fell asleep at 4. Like I said, after 4 AM, I heard nothing.” I fought to keep my eyes open. The detectives looked at me with pure suspicion. I felt that familiar irritation rising. “Officers, you don’t actually think I killed them, do you? It was four against one! How could I possibly solo-kill four people? I don’t even have the guts to kill a chicken!” Just then, another officer walked in and whispered something to the interrogator. Next thing I knew, they were hooking me up to a polygraph. They asked the same questions. The machine showed I was telling the truth. According to the data, after 4 AM, I was out cold. Dead to the world. Regardless of the carnage happening feet away from me, I hadn’t woken up. 5 The detective changed his angle. “Did you take sleeping pills because of the noise?” “No.” “Before you slept, were they still gaming?” “Yes. I remember right before I passed out, Zoe yelled something like, ‘Finally, no one’s bothering us! We have to win this next round!’” “How was your relationship with them? Any conflicts last night?” I fell silent. They definitely suspected me. But to clear my name, I had to be honest. That comment about “no one bothering them” was obviously about me. “Relationship? Not good, not bad. Just… petty stuff. Locking me in the dorm so I’d miss class. Hiding the necklace my mom left me. Making up rumors about me sleeping around. That kind of stuff.” The detectives looked at me with complicated expressions. They probably didn’t expect me to be so calm about the bullying. But it didn’t matter. They were dead. What’s the point of holding a grudge against corpses? I continued, digging through my memory. “We did argue last night. When I came back from the bathroom, I couldn’t sleep. The ringing in my ears was bad. They were screaming. I finally snapped and told them to shut up. “The room went quiet for a few seconds. “Then I heard Zoe say… she said if I kept bothering them, she’d kill me. “They pinned me down. They poured something into my mouth. They choked me.” Recallling it, a sudden wave of grief hit me. Tears splashed onto the metal table. They had said other things, too. But the moment I tried to remember the specific words, my head felt like it was splitting open. My brain refused to go there. The detective handed me a tissue, staring at my neck. “Looks like you were choked unconscious. You poor kid. Does your neck hurt? We’ll get you some ointment later.” I touched my neck. Hiss. It stung. But I wasn’t crying because they bullied me. I couldn’t explain the feeling. It was just an overwhelming wave of sorrow. Four people were dead. The police wouldn’t stop just because I was crying. They placed a tablet in front of me. CCTV footage. I clicked play. What I saw made my blood run cold.

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For me, Nate Hunt gave up three things. Women, fighting, and street racing. Everyone said that I, his gilded canary, had tamed the city’s most untamable wolf. Until the morning after our wedding of the century. I woke up five years in the future. A twenty-nine-year-old Nate was slamming a divorce agreement onto the table in front of me. “I told you, stay away from her! Otherwise, next time it won’t just be a broken hand.” “Clara, I’m done wasting my time on you.” The man before me was all sharp angles and cold fury, the warmth in his eyes completely extinguished. My own eyes welled with tears, my lip trembling. “Honey, you’re scaring me.” Nate froze. Then his brow furrowed even deeper. 1 It was like… I couldn’t understand. Just the night before, he had humbled himself, bringing me a basin of warm water to wash my feet. A few months ago, after a car crash, he had nearly died shielding me from the impact; the scar by his eye was still a pale, visible line. At our wedding, the famously ruthless heir to the Hunt empire had choked back tears in front of all our guests, simply because he was marrying me. How could one night change everything? The man who had once cherished me like life itself was now looking at me with pure disgust. Clearly, Nate couldn’t understand my confusion either. He stared at me, his gaze intense. “Time travel? Clara, there’s no need to invent such a ridiculous excuse.” He didn’t believe me. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, not even wanting to look at me as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. I stood there, stunned, then instinctively ran after him, trying to grab his arm. “Na—” He stopped so abruptly I didn’t have time to react, my nose crashing into the solid wall of his back. A small cry of pain escaped me as tears pricked my eyes. But Nate didn’t seem to hear, let alone turn around. He was looking down at his phone, which was vibrating in his hand. Ah. Someone was calling him. He answered. A light, feminine voice came through the speaker, clear enough for me to hear. “Nate, where are you? Finn has been waiting for you forever.” Nate’s response was a soft hum. The cold mask on his face melted away. “On my way.” A knot tightened in my stomach. I blinked, my voice small. “Who is that?” Her voice was vaguely familiar, but my mind was a tangled mess. I couldn’t place it. “Are you done with the act?” Nate put his phone away. When he turned back to me, a trace of that softness still lingered around his eyes, but his words sent a chill down my spine. “If it weren’t for me, you would have died on that godforsaken mountain, not standing here in the Hunt family home.” His gaze flickered over my reddened nose, his tone flat and cold. “You should be grateful, Clara.” The door slammed shut. The sound was so loud it made my entire body flinch, snapping me out of my daze. My hands trembling, I picked up my phone. Almost on instinct, I dialed the number I knew by heart. It rang for a long time before it was finally answered. “Hello? Is this… Clara?” Nina sounded surprised, as if my call was the last thing she expected. But I couldn’t dwell on her strange tone. The moment I heard my best friend’s voice, the tears I’d been holding back broke free. After I told her everything, there was a brief silence on the other end of the line. Then, Nina’s voice shot up several octaves. “You’re saying you just got married yesterday?” I stared blankly at the paper in my hand. “Yes. And now Nate… he wants to divorce me.” I sniffled. “Nina, can you come get me?” Another long pause. So long I thought she might not have heard me. Finally, a single word. “Okay.” 2 In the coffee shop, Nina stared at me for a long time, disbelief etched on her face. “So you’re telling me you just went to sleep and woke up here? You… you don’t remember anything from the last five years?” I nodded, then shook my head. “This isn’t the first time Nate has tried to divorce you,” she said, her expression complicated. After a moment, she managed a wry smile. “And we… we haven’t spoken in a very long time.” I was speechless. Nina sighed, and then she told me everything. Less than a year after our spectacular wedding, Nate changed. The reformed bad boy, it turned out, had been an illusion. My eyes widened. “He cheated?” “Yes. Four years ago.” She took a sip of her coffee, glancing at me. “With a junior from your university. And just like you, she was a scholarship student sponsored by the Hunt family.” Nina said that when I found out, I fell apart. I did a lot of crazy things. I went to the university and cornered the girl, screaming at her, making a huge public scene. Then I crashed the lavish birthday party Nate threw for her, forcing him to have me arrested. That was the first time he demanded a divorce. Nina took another sip. She told me she couldn’t stand to watch me self-destruct and tried to convince me to let him go, but in my crazed state, I had attacked and injured her. And with that, my only friend cut ties with me. The canary who tried to tame the wolf had become the city’s biggest joke. I was horrified. “He broke my hand just because I ruined a flower his mistress was growing?” Nina looked at me and nodded. I looked down at the divorce agreement. Honestly, Nate was being generous. For a bitter divorce, the settlement was substantial. Twenty million dollars and several downtown apartments. I came back to my senses and picked up the pen to sign. Nina’s hand shot out and grabbed mine. “Are you sure this time?” Seeing my confusion, she hesitated. “The last few times, you pretended to sign, then went back on your word and made a fool of him. It made Nate furious.” I was stunned. Had I really become that unhinged? Nina pressed on. “Clara, are you sure you don’t love him anymore?” My hand paused. Love? My thoughts drifted. Nate was right. If it weren’t for him, I would have died on that mountain. I was a scholarship student he had personally selected. Without the Hunt family, I never would have escaped, never would have gone to school. Then, my sophomore year of college, my stepfather tricked me into coming home, lying that my mother was seriously ill. He was afraid I would run away again, so he broke my hand and locked me in the cellar, waiting to sell me to an old bachelor for thirty thousand dollars. It was Nate who drove through the night to save me. He was enraged. He hired the best lawyers to put my stepfather and that man behind bars. He saved both me and my mother. Before my mother passed away, she told me over and over, “Clara, you wouldn’t be here today without the young master of the Hunt family. We may be poor, but we must always be grateful.” I never forgot. I swore I would repay him. He said he loved me, so I learned to love him back. He said he wanted to marry me, and I nodded happily, just wanting to make him happy. And now, he had found someone else, someone better suited to him. My debt of gratitude… hasn’t it been paid in full? Isn’t it time for me to find a life of my own? Nina’s eyes were red as she spoke, her voice thick with emotion. “Clara, for you to think that way… it’s really… it’s for the best.” 3 Standing beneath the Hunt Industries tower, I tilted my head back, looking up at the skyscraper piercing the clouds. It was the same building, but it felt different from five years ago. “Isn’t that the crazy Hunt woman?” “What’s she doing here again? Didn’t she embarrass herself enough last time? You can take the girl out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the girl.” The whispers around me pulled me back to reality. I lowered my gaze and clutched the divorce agreement in my hand. Before I left, I had tried to call Nate. The call was declined after one ring. When I tried again, I was blocked. I figured if we were getting a divorce, there was no point in dragging it out. I would deliver the papers myself. Nina had tried to stop me, only relenting after I convinced her I was really, truly just going to finalize the divorce. “I have a case this afternoon. Are you sure you can handle this on your own?” Nina was a busy lawyer. Seeing my determination, she left, looking back every few steps. She still didn’t trust me, worried I was using this as an excuse to cause a scene at Hunt Industries. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one. The moment I walked into the lobby, the receptionist knocked over a glass of water in her nervousness. Security guards immediately surrounded me, on high alert. I suddenly remembered what Nina had told me. At my most manic, I had even trashed the Hunt Industries headquarters, giving their rivals plenty of ammunition to drag the company’s reputation through the mud. Nate had held a lot of people accountable for that. No wonder they were so tense. I offered the receptionist a friendly smile. “I’m here to see Nate Hunt.” She hesitated, then said apologetically, “Ms. Lin, the new director, has a strict rule. No one can see Mr. Hunt without an appointment. Not even… Mrs. Hunt.” It took me a second to process. Ms. Lin. That must be my university junior, Seraphina Lin. Nate’s precious mistress. “And if I insist on going up?” I asked calmly, starting to walk forward. The receptionist grew more anxious, and the guards moved to block me. I frowned, about to speak, when a commotion erupted outside. A crowd of people was surging into the lobby. 4 Before I could even turn around, someone pushed me from behind. I stumbled and fell, my not-yet-healed right hand slamming against the corner of a wall. I hissed in pain. Then, a sickeningly sweet voice rang out. “Oh, someone help the cleaning lady up… wait, is that you, Clara?” I looked up into Seraphina Lin’s wide, innocent eyes. “You must be aging quickly, Clara. From the back, I didn’t even recognize you. Is your hand okay?” I rubbed my swollen wrist, my expression turning cold. “You’re so young, Ms. Lin, it’s a shame your eyesight is already failing. Then again, when it comes to men, you also seem to prefer those who are already taken.” Seraphina’s face instantly darkened. I ignored her and turned toward the elevator, but she motioned for her entourage to block my path. “Did you not hear the receptionist, Clara?” Seraphina’s voice was soft and melodic. “Let me repeat it for you. Outsiders without an appointment are not allowed to see Mr. Hunt. Unless they’re a senior executive, of course. Oh, right… you’re not an employee of Hunt Industries anymore, are you?” My eyes narrowed. I had started working at Hunt Industries during college. According to Nina, the jewelry lines I designed over the last few years had been instrumental in the company’s successful expansion into the luxury market, and I had even become the Director of the Design Department. Until last year, when Nate replaced me with the newly graduated Seraphina. Seeing me stand there silently, Seraphina smiled, leaned in, and whispered triumphantly, “Haven’t you learned your lesson yet, Clara? You were kicked out like a stray dog…” I watched her for a moment, then let out a small laugh and, in one swift motion, slapped her across the face. “As long as I am not divorced, I am the rightful Mrs. Hunt, the lady of this company! Who do you think you are to stop me? The company watchdog, or… Nate’s dirty little secret?” Seraphina, spoiled and pampered by Nate, had never been treated like this. She clutched her face, her eyes wild as she lunged at me. “How dare you hit me!” I sidestepped her, caught her flailing arm, and used her momentum to swing her around, delivering another sharp slap with my other hand. “If Nate won’t teach you some manners, I will!” The slaps sent Seraphina into a frenzy. Her face was contorted with rage as she tried to attack me again. Just then, the elevator chimed open. The man emerging, surrounded by his executives, looked up and his eyes landed on me. He froze for a second, then strode forward and wrapped his arms around Seraphina, who was now sobbing uncontrollably. When he looked back at me, his face was a mask of fury. “Clara, what the hell are you doing now!” 5 Before I could speak, Seraphina beat me to it. She huddled in Nate’s arms, looking terrified. “Nate, I was just explaining the rules to Clara. No appointments, no entry. Even if she… tried to use her status as Mrs. Hunt to pressure me, it’s still against the rules!” “I was just following company policy, but she flew into a rage and started hitting me…” I gave her a cold look. “Still haven’t learned your place, have you…” “Clara!” Nate’s voice was sharp, his eyes colder than mine. “Is this fun for you?” He stared at me, his lips a thin, hard line. “Whatever games you’re playing, they won’t work anymore.” I was taken aback for a moment, then I understood. In his eyes, everything I was doing today was just another desperate ploy to get his attention, to delay the divorce. He was telling me that no matter how much I fought, he wouldn’t change his mind. “You’re right. It’s not fun at all,” I said with a humorless smile, pulling the papers from my bag. “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?” This time, it was Nate’s turn to be stunned. His gaze swept over my calm face, then settled on the divorce agreement in my hand for a few long seconds. The next thing I knew, he knocked the papers from my hand, his voice exploding with rage. “Do you think this is funny?” he roared, his temple pulsing. “Trying the same old tricks again? Clara, are you really so pathetic that you can’t live without me? Do you have to keep stooping to these cheap tactics? How desperate can you be? You—” Slap. Nate’s head snapped to the side. The rest of his words were swallowed by the sharp sound of my hand connecting with his cheek. Meeting his thunderous gaze, I flipped the agreement to the last page and shoved it in his face. “Take a good look!” Nate glared at me, his jaw clenched, before finally taking a deep breath and looking down at the paper. And then he froze.

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1 My roommate, Sera, Venmoed me a hundred bucks to grab her some food from the dining hall. I was hesitating when a series of comments suddenly floated across my vision, visible only to me. 「You idiot. That’s Seraphina Sinclair, daughter of the richest man in New York. A true princess. Start sucking up to her now, and you’ll have everything you’ve ever wanted.」 「If you don’t, your best friend will. And trust me, she’ll make sure you never get the chance.」 「Exactly. Your ‘bestie’ already knows who Sera is. She’s just waiting for you to say no so she can swoop in and cut you out completely.」 My phone buzzed with a text. It was from Mila, my supposed best friend, who was sitting right across from me. 【Jenny, don’t you dare take her money. We may not be rich, but we have our pride. Let her deal with her own princess problems.】 She even gave me a knowing little blink. In that instant, a bone-deep chill washed over me. The next second, I switched apps, accepted the hundred dollars, and beamed at Seraphina with a fawning smile. “At your service, my lady. Your humble servant will return in a flash.” Sera gave me a surprised but amused look, nodded with a slight smile, and went back to watching The Crown on her laptop. Ignoring Mila’s dumbfounded expression, I bolted out of the dorm. I hadn’t gotten far when someone called my name. I turned to see Mila jogging to catch up. “Jenny, how could you take that money?” she panted, catching up to me. “I just told you, we have to have some self-respect! Seraphina’s entitled attitude is disgusting.” Knowing what she was really thinking, her hypocrisy was almost impressive. I put on a pitiful expression. “You know my family’s situation is way worse than yours, Mila. My mom’s sick and can’t work, and my dad barely makes five grand a month. This hundred bucks? That’s like three days’ work for him.” “It’s not that I don’t have pride,” I said, my voice cracking slightly. “It’s just… the princess pays really, really well.” With that, I turned and ran, leaving Mila fuming and stomping her foot on the pavement behind me. New comments flickered into view. 「Hahaha, Jenny Smelton finally gets it! She’s on the fast track to the good life now.」 「Totally. Sera’s parents made her promise to keep a low profile at college, not to just throw money at people. But look at her, day two and the princess is already acting like a princess.」 「She’s got that princess syndrome, for sure, but she’s still listening to her parents. She’ll probably just keep one person around to run errands, nothing too flashy.」 「Ugh, I’m so jealous of Jenny. If I were her, and the food got cold by the time I brought it back, I’d probably slap myself…」 That last comment really resonated with me. Right then and there, I decided these floating comments were my new career guide. And they said the princess would only hire one person for the whole of college. I couldn’t screw this up. Not with Mila circling like a vulture. I had to latch onto this golden opportunity and never let go. After buying the food, I sprinted back to the dorm faster than I’d ever run in my life. Bursting through the door, I saw Mila hovering around Seraphina, her face plastered with a sycophantic grin. Sera was still engrossed in her show, offering only distracted, one-word replies. “My… my lady! Your order has arrived!” I gasped, bent over and dripping with sweat. Sera looked up, genuinely surprised by my speed. She glanced at the clock and then back at me, a look of satisfaction spreading across her face. She picked up her phone and sent another hundred-dollar Venmo. “Not bad,” she said. “From now on, you work for me.” “Absolutely, my lady! Just think of me as your personal assistant, on call 24/7,” I said, unable to contain my joy. Sera took the food containers, covering a laugh with her hand. “What happened to being my ‘humble servant’?” I just grinned sheepishly. “Whatever makes you happy, my lady.” The look on Mila’s face was a toxic cocktail of envy, jealousy, and pure hatred. “Heh heh…” A soft chuckle came from the other side of the room. It was our fourth roommate, Chloe. Dressed head-to-toe in designer labels, she was clearly from a wealthy family too. I could tell she wasn’t laughing at me, but at the absurdity of the whole situation. I didn’t sense any malice, so I let it slide. Of the four of us, my family was by far the poorest, with Mila’s being a close second. “Jenny Smelton, that food looks like it’s from Dining Hall Two, doesn’t it? Everyone knows that place is famously terrible,” Mila said, pretending to wrinkle her nose. But the smirk in her eyes gave her away. In an instant, my face fell. When we’d all introduced ourselves yesterday, I’d just said my name was “Jenny.” I never offered my last name. Because with a name like mine, you don’t make friends. Let alone best friends. Mila was the exception. We’d been neighbors in elementary school, classmates through middle and high school, and now, by some twist of fate, college roommates. My name had been the butt of jokes my entire life. It was a miracle I’d survived it. Only Mila had never seemed to mind, though she did borrow money from me constantly. A few bucks in elementary school, then ten or twenty in middle school, and by high school, it was fifty, a hundred at a time. I always gave it to her, never asking for it back, even when it meant I had to skip lunch. I didn’t care. With her, I felt… respected. But now I saw that the respect was conditional. The moment I became a threat to her interests, she turned on me. I knew she’d said my full name just to hurt me. “It’s actually not bad,” Sera said, breaking the awkward silence. She took a bite and nodded. “The taste is fine.” Chloe bounced over. “Really? Maybe I’ll go check it out then. Of course, I’m not rich like you, Sera. Can’t afford a delivery fee, so I’ll have to go myself.” She gave my shoulder a friendly pat and strolled out of the room with a smile. Tears welled in my eyes as I watched her go. I turned back to Sera, who was happily digging into her meal. A sudden wave of warmth washed over me, soothing my frayed nerves. There was a reason rich people were rich. Their upbringing, their class… it was on a completely different level from anyone I’d known before. Mila, on the other hand, was left standing there, looking like a fool. This wasn’t how her script was supposed to go. In the past, saying my full name was the quickest way to crush my spirit. But it wasn’t working anymore. “Haha, well, maybe I’ll go try it too,” Mila mumbled, then scurried out of the room in disgrace. Half an hour later, Mila found me eating in the cafeteria. She sat down across from me, her face a mask of disappointment. “Jenny, I never thought you were this kind of person.” I feigned innocence. “What kind of person?” “You’re willing to throw away your dignity for money? Calling yourself a ‘humble servant,’ a ‘personal assistant’… Honestly, as your best friend, I’m embarrassed for you.” She looked at me with pity, as if trying to rescue me from my own greed. I laughed coldly to myself. What a fool I’ve been. “Mila, I know you think you’re looking out for me, but let me ask you something. Would you really choose dignity over money?” “You…” My question shut her up completely. 「The competition is fierce! Look at these two, tearing their friendship apart just to be the main character’s sidekick.」 The comment floated by, and I smiled. Thanks to these messages, I finally understood everything. I was living in a book, and Mila was supposed to be the designated sidekick. By becoming Sera’s gofer in college, she was meant to win her trust and launch herself into a life of luxury. And me? I was just a stepping stone for Mila, a bit of comic relief for the story. The punchline, of course, was my name. Damn you, author. How could you come up with a name like Jenny Smelton? In the original story, I missed this opportunity. Mila abandoned me, then spent the rest of college isolating and bullying me, making my life a living hell. After graduation, I had the misfortune of marrying an abusive man and wasting my life away. Mila, with her high-powered executive husband, would even visit our hometown just to humiliate me. Finally, at forty, I gave up and jumped from a building. Seeing that ending scared me half to death. Now that I knew what was supposed to happen, I had to seize this chance. And I already had a head start. Mila stormed off, her jaw clenched in anger. Our friendship was officially over. After I finished my meal, I went back to the dorm. Sera was out. I looked at her bed—a chaotic landscape of rumpled sheets and misplaced belongings—and without a second thought, I started tidying up. When Sera returned, her eyes landed on her now neat and pristine bed, and a smile spread across her face. “You did this?” I smiled shyly. “You gave me so much money earlier, my lady. I felt bad not doing more, so…” Sera nodded. “Alright. Then let’s make it a semester-long gig. How does ten thousand for the semester sound?” My heart hammered against my ribs. I nodded frantically. “Yes, yes, that sounds… that sounds amazing.” Sera was decisive. To her, money was just a number. 【You have received $10,000 from Seraphina Sinclair.】 Just then, Mila walked in, her face instantly turning dark with envy when she saw the transaction notification on my phone. “Jenny Smelton, we’re all roommates here. Why do you have to be so greedy? If you really considered Seraphina a friend, you’d help her out of kindness, not put a price tag on it. You’re ruining the atmosphere in this dorm!” She quickly found an angle, trying to paint me as the villain. I was stunned she could twist it like that, turning it into a moral failing. My face flushed with embarrassment. Seeing my reaction, she pressed her advantage, turning to Sera. “Sera, we’re all classmates. If you need anything in the future, just ask. I, Mila Jones, will help you, no questions asked. And I won’t take a single penny.” She delivered the lines with such self-righteous grandeur that, next to her, I looked like a petty, money-grubbing troll. I had no choice. I turned to Sera. “My lady, she’s right. I… I should give you the money back. From now on, whatever you need, just tell me. I’ll do it.” The words tasted like ash in my mouth. My heart ached. This was ten thousand dollars. The first two hundred was one thing, enough to make my college life a little easier. But ten grand was different. My family was so poor; that money could change everything for them. To my surprise, Sera just waved a dismissive hand, a frown on her face. “I never take back money I’ve given away. And the last thing I want is to owe someone a favor. Don’t bring this up again. It’s settled.” Without another word, she picked up her tablet, started up The Crown, and completely ignored us. Mila froze. For the second time, Sera’s reaction had completely blindsided her. All she could do was shoot me a venomous look before storming out of the room. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. I couldn’t let Mila ruin this for me. The months flew by. I became Sera’s shadow. I sat in on her classes, ran her errands, cleaned her space, and eventually, she even entrusted me with her laundry. Luckily, I’d been doing chores at home my whole life, so I was efficient and thorough, which kept Sera very happy. In just a few months, my savings account had swelled to over fifteen thousand dollars. Chloe was a character. Used to a lavish lifestyle, she’d occasionally burn through her allowance and come to Sera, cheekily asking for “a job” to earn some cash. Sera would always oblige, making up some simple task and paying her generously, which always delighted Chloe. Mila watched, green with envy, and tried to do the same. But Sera wouldn’t even give her the time of day, ignoring her completely, which infuriated Mila to no end. “Did you say something bad about me to Seraphina?” she demanded, cornering me one day. I just rolled my eyes. “Honestly, no. Believe what you want. Besides, I thought you were too proud to stoop for money?” Sera never said it out loud, but it was obvious she didn’t like Mila. Mila was just too clueless to see it. “Hmph, you won’t even admit it. Just you wait. After everything I did for you, the second you get a taste of money, you turn your back on me. You’re nothing but an ungrateful snake,” Mila spat, her words dripping with venom. I was done being her punching bag. I dropped the pretense. “We’re adults, Mila. Let’s stop with the drama. Our entire ‘friendship’ was something I paid for. Do you have any idea how many meals I skipped to lend you money?” Mila’s face cycled through shades of red and white. She knew it was true. She’d never paid back a single cent she’d “borrowed” from me over the years. “Fine. Fine! We’ll see about that,” she seethed, then stormed away. Watching her go, I felt a surge of satisfaction. And then, a new comment appeared, and the blood in my veins turned to ice. 【Jenny’s in deep trouble. Mila has a vicious plan to frame her. Sera will definitely kick her out. The power of the plot is too strong; things are snapping back to the original storyline.】 I read on, my heart pounding. When I saw the details of her plan, a cold sweat broke out across my body. Mila Jones, after this, it’s war. A few hours later, I rushed off campus and bought a micro-camera. After getting permission from both Sera and Chloe, I installed it in our room. Only then could I finally breathe again. Three days later, a shriek echoed through the dorm. “Has anyone seen my Tiffany bracelet?” Sera, who was usually so composed, was in a state of panic. It was written all over her face. Chloe chuckled. “What’s the big deal? It’s just a few grand, right? Nothing for you, my lady.” “It was the last gift my mother gave me before she passed away,” Sera said, her voice trembling as she frantically searched. “I’ll die if I lose it.” “Oh, God. Okay, I’ll help you look,” Chloe said, her playful tone gone. Mila and I joined the search. We turned the entire dorm room upside down, but the bracelet was nowhere to be found. “Jenny,” Mila finally said, her voice sharp as she turned the spotlight on me. “You’re the one who usually tidies up Sera’s things. You didn’t happen to see it, did you?” I feigned panic. “No, I haven’t seen it at all!” A sly smile played on Mila’s lips. “Well, it looks like we have a little rat in our dorm.” The implication was crystal clear. At that moment, the only places left to search were our three beds. As she spoke, both Sera and Chloe glanced at me, no doubt remembering the camera I’d installed three days ago. For some reason, the panic on Sera’s face seemed to melt away. Chloe’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “Well then, let’s start with my bed.” After a thorough search, they found nothing. Mila’s eyes gleamed. “Let’s do mine next! I have nothing to hide.” Sera smiled languidly. “Alright.” Of course, they didn’t find it there either. Mila grabbed my arm. “Jenny Smelton, are you going to give it back yourself, or do we have to find it? Sera has been so kind and generous to you. I can’t believe you’re the one who stole from her.” I cast a pitiful look at Sera, who, along with Chloe, gave me a subtle, encouraging smile. I took out my phone and opened the live camera feed. The sight of my phone seemed to trigger a wave of dread in Mila. But she was in too deep to back down now. “What are you doing, Jenny? Hand it over! If you don’t, I’m calling the police. It’s a disgrace to share a room with a thief like you!” I ignored her completely and held my phone out for Sera. “My lady, perhaps you should see this.” An image appeared on the screen. Mila couldn’t resist leaning in for a look. The next second, all the color drained from her face.

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