Category: English

“Honey, I failed the interview again. Can you cover the mortgage for a few months?” Jason threw his briefcase aside and collapsed颓废ly on the sofa. He has been unemployed for half a year, failing countless interviews. “My salary only covers living expenses, where can I get money for the mortgage?” “Take out your parents’ pension for emergency.” He said it righteously, as if stating a matter of course. To maintain the family’s life, I work during the day and take night shifts, my hands covered in chilblains from the cold. Until a congratulatory text from a securities company popped up on his phone. “Congratulations Mr. Jason, your account profit has exceeded $5 million.” Turns out, he wasn’t unemployed. He achieved financial freedom. His account, $5 million. My pocket, $1,500. Chapter 1 Jason slammed the door and left. I looked at the empty room, my stomach burning. Haven’t eaten all day. The phone vibrated, an overdue mortgage notice from the bank. Mind went blank. Where can I get these $3,000? A voice message popped up on WeChat, it was Jason. I clicked, his voice came from the receiver. “Honey, hold on a bit longer. I have a few promising interviews. Just survive this month, once I get an offer, our good days will come. You must see the big picture, don’t drop the ball now.” I smiled bitterly. For this family, I work as a cashier at a supermarket during the day, and sell hot dogs at the night market at night. Hands covered in chilblains, red and swollen, even starting to ooze. And he, unemployed for half a year, sleeps until he wakes up naturally every day, then plays games, or dresses up like a human to go for interviews like today. I checked all bank cards, adding up to no more than $1,500. This is all I have. I can’t ask my parents for money. They are old, in poor health, that pension is their life-saving money. To scrape together money, I went to the Pawn Shop at the entrance of the community. The owner narrowed his eyes at the item I handed over. That was the dowry my mom gave me, a small gold ring. “Dead pawn, three thousand.” The owner blew a smoke ring, tone waveless. “Can’t, can’t it be a bit more?” My voice was trembling. “Take it or leave it.” I finally signed, taking that $3,000. Just walked out of the pawn shop, mother-in-law called. “Elena! Did you make Jason angry again? Don’t you know he is unemployed at home? Instead of comforting him, you give him attitude, is this how you be a wife?” I held the phone, unable to say a word. “I tell you, if you make my son uncomfortable and don’t serve him well, I’m not done with you!” The phone hung up. Ears buzzing. Heart felt terrible, but no time to think, holding the $3,000 exchanged for the ring, finally paid the mortgage. At night, Jason came back. He collapsed on the sofa with a tired face, “Sigh, failed again, companies nowadays demand too high.” He saw the money on the table, a flash of greed in his eyes, but immediately switched to a distressed expression. “Where did the money come from?” “Borrowed from a friend.” I dared not say I sold the ring. Afraid he would know this opening, and couldn’t stop later. “Mm.” He collected the money as a matter of course, counted it, then stuffed it into his pocket. Then took out a bubble gum from his pocket to me, his eyes shining. “Hard work, wifey, your favorite strawberry lollipop, very sweet, taste it.” “Thank you.” I took it somewhat helplessly, he rarely brings me things. For a moment felt a bit moved, exhaled heavily. Life is hard, but as long as two hearts are together, I can endure. Returning home from the stall, it was already 1 AM. I saw Jason sneaking on the balcony making a call, voice pressed extremely low, couldn’t hear clearly. Seeing me back, he hung up immediately, sighed and walked over. “Honey, you have to think of a way for next month’s mortgage.” “Economy is bad now, jobs are too hard to find.” I subconsciously clenched my hand, chilblains hurting. “I… I really have no way.” Jason walked in and hugged me: “Wifey think of something, I know you are the best.” I nodded stiffly. At night, I lay beside him, looking at his sleeping face. This face, used to be my entire reliance. I told myself, as long as he can pull himself together, the family will be fine. I tucked him in, moved by myself. Thinking I survived another month. I thought, hard days will end. Little did I know, this was just the beginning of a nightmare. Chapter 2 Next morning, Jason went to shower, leaving his phone by the bed. I was about to get up, his phone screen suddenly lit up. A text message popped up. From a securities company. “Congratulations Mr. Jason, your account profit has exceeded $5 million, please pay attention to market dynamics.” My brain buzzed, instantly blank. Trembling hands, I picked up his phone. I tried entering his birthday. Error. I tried entering our wedding anniversary. Error. Ghost-driven, I entered his first love’s birthday. Screen unlocked. Heart instantly, cold as ice. I clicked that text, confirmed not a scam. Then, I found that securities APP. Opened it, a string of piercing numbers stabbed into my eyes. Total Assets: $5,201,345.88. Just today’s profit was over thirty thousand. More than I earn setting up a stall for a year. I felt the world spinning, almost unable to stand. I clicked his WeChat. Pinned group chat, named “Single Aristocrats”. I clicked in, saw shocking chat records. Just last night, he sent a two-hundred-dollar red envelope in the group. Someone asked him: “Brother Jason, where did you make a fortune recently?” Jason replied: “What fortune, being a lord at home, served by free nanny, so cool.” A bunch of envious emojis below. Another person said: “Brother Jason awesome, when are you kicking that yellow-faced woman?” Jason sent a proud emoji: “Soon, wait till I squeeze the last bit of oil from her family, then let her roll.” “Heard sister-in-law is setting up a stall to support you recently? So touching.” “Touching my ass, that’s my wife-taming technique. If I didn’t say I was unemployed, would she obediently sell the jewelry her mom gave her to pay my mortgage? Stupid woman, must be treated like this.” My blood, completely cold. I lowered my head, looking at my hands that didn’t look like hands. Where chilblains burst, black blood scabs formed. I clicked Jason’s phone album again. Inside were selfies of him consuming at five-star hotels last week, background gorgeous crystal chandeliers. And his newly bought watch worth tens of thousands. I suddenly remembered, for the past half year, he even asked me for money for a pack of ten-dollar cigarettes. I opened the family billing APP, started checking crazily. During his so-called unemployment, every month there was a transfer record of three thousand dollars. Remark was pocket money. But the recipient, was a WeChat ID completely strange to me. I continued scrolling down. I saw the withdrawal record of the only fixed deposit certificate at home. Fifty thousand. That was what we saved for three years, agreed to keep for future children. Also secretly taken by him. I took out a calculator, calculating one by one. Married for three years, my salary, bonus, stall income, all money subsidizing family, added up to nearly two hundred thousand. And he, behind my back, saved five million two hundred thousand. Water sound in bathroom stopped. I locked the screen quickly, put the phone back, heart pounding. Tears fell uncontrollably, I covered my mouth hard, not letting myself cry out. Jason walked out wrapped in a towel. He didn’t even look at me, walked straight to the bed, complaining: “What the hell, water heater broken again? No hot water at all.” I lowered my head, hiding red swollen eyes with hair. Inside heart, already dead ashes. Burning, only monstrous hatred. Chapter 3 I suppressed the monstrous nausea, brought him a bowl of hot porridge from the kitchen. This was boiled by me waking up at 5 AM using the last bit of rice. Jason smiled satisfied, he stirred with a spoon, steam reddened his eyes. “Wifey, hard work for you.” He took a sip, sighed satisfied, then tears flowed from corner of eyes into mouth. “Blame me for being useless, unable to give you a good life… let you suffer.” I watched him acting quietly. Suddenly, he mentioned that matter again. “By the way, about your parents’ pension, when will you ask?” He lit a cigarette. “I recently knew a friend doing private equity, very high return. You ask your parents to take money out, invest in, double in a year, then we can benefit too.” He not only wants to squeeze me dry, but also lay hands on my parents. Looking at his greedy face, I sneered inside. “Jason,” I opened mouth tentatively, “If we have money later, what would you do?” He blurted out subconsciously: “Have money? Of course change…” He stopped abruptly, looked at me alertly, changed words: “Change to a big house.” One word, already exposed all his thoughts. Change wife. “Okay, I promise you.” I lowered head, pretending obedience, “But my parents, thinking relatively conservative, give me a few days, I persuade slowly.” “Knew wifey is the best.” Jason smiled satisfied, thinking I was completely controlled by him. I used excuse to go to work, first thing was returning to that pawn shop. “Boss, the gold ring pawned day before yesterday, I want to redeem.” Boss lifted eyelids, lazily said: “Late, sent to melt yesterday.” Instantly a sourness surged, I stood on the street, watching people come and go, tears finally burst. For this man, for this family, I gave my everything. In exchange, despised and squeezed by him. Jason, I swear, what you owe me, I want you to pay back thousand, hundred times! I returned to parents’ home. Looking at parents’ gray hair, and their eyes cautiously asking if I have enough money, I was ashamed to show face. I didn’t mention money, just sat with them for a long time. During period, Jason’s life-demanding WeChat messages came one after another. “How is it? Asked?” “Talk nicely to parents, when I find job, I will definitely return this money.” “Later when I earn big money, buy big house for parents!” Looking at those hypocritical promises, I replied three words. “Parents agreed.” Almost instantly, Jason sent a smiley face emoji, and a kiss. Face changing speed, disgusting. Back home at night, Jason unprecedentedly poured me a glass of water. “Wifey hard work.” He leaned in diligently, eyes full of calculation. “When can money arrive?” “My parents said, such a big sum, must see your investment ability to be assured.” I looked into his eyes, calmly said, “They want to see your mobile banking statement.” Jason’s face changed instantly. “Why look at my statement? What do you mean? Elena, we are husband and wife, you actually don’t trust me?” He started counter-attacking, kidnapping me with ridiculous words like marital trust. I didn’t argue with him anymore. I turned silently back to room. Watching his exasperated look, a ruthless plan already formed in my heart. Chapter 4 I took a day off. Excuse was feeling unwell, actually, I went to find someone. My high school classmate, Zoe, now a famous divorce lawyer in the city. In the cafe, I told everything. Zoe listened, slamming table in anger. “Scumbag! You still keep this kind of man for New Year?” She calmed down quickly, analyzing professionally: “Elena, the biggest problem you face now is evidence! His stock account belongs to hidden assets. Without solid evidence, he might transfer or cash out all money before filing for divorce, then you get nothing.” “I took photos last time.” “Photos not enough.” Zoe shook head, “Photos can be photoshopped, limited legal effect. You best record a complete operation video, including logging in, showing account holder name, viewing fund flow and holding details. Only this forms a complete evidence chain.” This is a high difficulty task. Back home, I found Jason in good mood, humming while playing games. Probably his stocks rose again. At dinner, I specially went to downstairs store buying a bottle of high alcohol liquor. “I got a bonus today, drink a bit with me?” I smiled to him. Jason looked at me suspiciously, but seeing brand name wine, didn’t ask more. He loves alcohol, especially likes taking small advantages. After a few cups of strong wine, he soon fell asleep on the sofa, snoring like thunder. His phone, pressed under his leg. I pulled out phone, using my spare phone, turned on recording function. Unlock. Open securities APP. Record holding details. Record fund flow. Record bound bank card number. Every step, my hand trembling. Just as I prepared to exit, I clicked his album again. Besides those consumption records, I surprisingly found a photo of property deed. Address in a high-end villa area famous for scenery in another city. Full payment. I continued scrolling down. In album, wedding photos of him and a young woman. Him in photo, smiling triumphantly. Photo date, last month. Turns out, he even found the way out. I uploaded all photos, videos to cloud, and shared to Zoe’s WeChat immediately. Done all this, I prepared to put phone back quietly. Just then, phone screen lit up suddenly. A video call request popped up. Caller name, two words. Wifey. How ironic. Just hesitating whether to hang up immediately. A hand, suddenly grabbed my wrist like lightning. I looked up in horror. Jason woke up unknown when. He opened eyes abruptly, eyes sinister scary. He stared dead at phone in my hand, then at me. Then, he asked in a voice cold to extreme: “Late at night, what doing with my phone?”

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As a washed-up genius composer, I hid it from my husband and sold the rights to my last few masterpieces—my magnum opuses—to a rival company just to scrape together the money. But one hour before the surgery, the payment window showed “Insufficient Funds.” I called my husband Julian frantically, only to be hung up on and blocked. Until the LED screens across the city lit up, a two-million-dollar drone light show illuminating the night sky. The screen boldly read: [May the great artist Scarlett’s inspiration never dry up — Gift from Julian] I stumbled into the light show venue, but Julian frowned and pushed me away: “Scarlett is in a creative bottleneck. These two million can buy her a masterpiece handed down for generations. What do you know about art?” “Is our son’s life not as important as a painting?” Julian sneered: “Don’t use the child to emotionally blackmail me. The doctor said it’s just the early stage, he won’t die.” Under the brilliant lights filling the sky, news came from the hospital that my son’s heart had stopped beating. And in Julian’s eyes, my breakdown at this moment was just jealousy of his “true love.” Chapter 1 Just when Julian threw a few thousand dollars at me, just when Scarlett shouted “Inspiration is here.” My Leo, the little angel who would lie in my arms calling Mommy and asking for chocolate cake, stopped breathing on the operating table. When he left, Mommy wasn’t there, Daddy wasn’t there. Only the exploding lights outside the window, worth two million, belonging to the fireworks his dad gave to another woman. “Leo said, the fireworks are bright, but the sky is too dark, he can’t find Daddy.” This sentence suddenly echoed in my mind. After huge grief, it wasn’t hysteria, but a heart-palpitating dead silence. I slowly lowered my hand, slowly raised my head, looking at the two people still flirting in front of me. Meeting my gaze, the smile on Julian’s face froze. He subconsciously took half a step back, inexplicably shivering. “E… Evelyn, why are you looking at me like that?” He frowned, masking his inner unease, scolding sternly. “I tell you, don’t think acting mysterious will make me forgive you! Here’s your phone, get out!” Snap. The phone was thrown on the ground by him, screen cracking. I didn’t pick it up. Nor did I kneel and beg for mercy like just now, nor did I scream in anger. I just looked at him quietly, looking at this man I loved for seven years, to whom I gave all my youth and talent. “Julian.” I spoke. Voice very light. “You don’t need to forgive me.” I bent down, picking up those few bills stepped on and dirty on the ground. That was the few thousand dollars he gave me like charity just now. I patted the dust off them one by one, then folded them neatly, putting them into my inner pocket. This is Leo’s funeral expense. Even if only a few thousand, I want him to leave with some dignity. “Evelyn, you…” Watching my unusually calm actions, Julian’s uneasiness grew stronger. “What? Playing tricks again?” Scarlett said sarcastically on the side. “Took the money, why not leave?” I didn’t pay attention to the barking dog. I just looked at Julian deeply, for the last time. No love, no hate in that look, only the pity of looking at a dead person. “Julian, you won.” After saying this, I turned around, dragging my bare right foot, step by step, walking into the darkness. Behind me, the fireworks continued. Boom—! Another brilliance exploded. That was the elegy sending off my son. Chapter 2 When leaving the riverside, a fine rain began to fall. I don’t know how I got back to the hospital. Only remember the nurse guarding the operating room door, handing me a death certificate with red eyes. “Mrs. Evelyn, the child went quietly… didn’t suffer much.” Didn’t suffer much. These three words cut my heart a few more times. I pushed open the door to the morgue, a chill hitting my face. Leo lay on the iron bed in the center, covered with a white cloth. I walked over, gently lifting a corner of the white cloth. He was really quiet, like having a dream he didn’t want to wake up from. His little face was pale, body stiff. “Leo, Mommy is here.” I took out that stack of bills with body warmth from my pocket. That was the few thousand Julian gave as charity. “Mommy is useless, couldn’t snatch the money back…” “Although not much, it’s enough to buy Leo a beautiful new outfit, and a small house.” I wiped the residual blood from his face bit by bit with a towel, movements gentle as if washing his face. At this time, the phone in my pocket vibrated. It was a WeChat message from Julian. Not asking where I was, nor asking how our son was. But a photo. In the photo, a luxurious celebration party. Huge champagne tower shining under crystal lights, Scarlett standing in the center, holding a painting tube, smiling triumphantly. Julian stood beside her, face glowing with happiness. Caption: [Congrats to Scarlett for finding inspiration! Not going home until drunk tonight!] This is my husband. While I was dressing my son in grave clothes, he was popping champagne for another woman. While I was wiping my son’s body, he was hugging another girl laughing endlessly. I didn’t reply, nor was I angry. I silently turned off the phone, dressed Leo in the slightly large grave clothes, then leaned down, planting a last kiss on his cold forehead. “Leo be good, wait for Mommy here for a few days. Mommy has a little bit of trash left to clean up.” After finishing simple cremation procedures, I walked out of the hospital. The villa late at night was empty. Julian hadn’t returned, probably still celebrating Scarlett’s “rebirth” in that gold cave. I didn’t turn on the light. Borrowing moonlight, I walked into the music room at the end of the corridor again. Locked here was my entire seven years of blood and sweat. Dozens of thick composition notebooks, hundreds of unreleased master tapes, and that violin Julian gave me back then, now covered in dust. These things used to be the only capital I had to stand tall in this wealthy wife identity. Relying on them, Julian turned the nearly bankrupt Starlight Entertainment into an industry giant. I also naively thought, as long as I kept writing good songs, he would always love me, would leave a place for me in this home. But now it seems, I am a complete joke. I opened the safe, hugging out those stacks of manuscripts. “Silent Wind”, “The Last Farewell”, “Echo of the Deep Sea”… Every song here could sell for a sky-high price on the black market. Especially “Nirvana”, the core soundtrack needed for Scarlett’s so-called “synesthetic painting.” “All trash.” I whispered, throwing them all into the fireplace. Scratch. A match broke the darkness, flame landing on the paper pile. Dry paper ignited instantly, tongues of fire greedily swallowing the staves. Notes twisted in the flames, turning black, turning into smoke. Firelight reddened my face, also illuminating Scarlett’s poster on the wall. He looked melancholy. I sat on the carpet in front of the fireplace, holding a bottle of red wine, drinking gulp after gulp. Watching this fire, my heart was surprisingly calm. Burn. Burn it all clean, and I can leave cleanly. Just when the fire was at its peak, noisy footsteps and laughter suddenly came from the entrance. “…Scarlett slow down, don’t break the painting tools.” “Julian, tonight was so happy! I feel inspiration still surging endlessly!” “Quick, to the music room, I want to try if ‘Nirvana’ can change key again!” “Okay, whatever you say. As long as you are happy, change however you want.” The door was pushed open. Julian held Scarlett, walking in with the smell of alcohol and cold wind. The smiles on their faces hadn’t had time to converge before they saw the soaring fire and smoke at the end of the corridor. “Fire?!” Scarlett screamed, hiding behind Julian. Julian’s face changed instantly. He smelled that familiar burnt scent—the smell of special music paper burning! “My songs!!” He let out a sharp scream, stepping in leather shoes, rushing towards the music room like crazy. Standing at the door, seeing the half-burnt manuscripts in the fireplace, he screamed. “Evelyn!! What are you doing!!” Ignoring the high temperature, he pounced on the fireplace, reaching out to grab those burning papers. “Stop! Stop it! Are you crazy?! Do you know how important this song is to Scarlett?!” “Ah—!” Flame singed the back of his hand. He cried out in pain withdrawing his hand, but still firmly protected those few remaining pages, turning his head, staring at me with eyes wanting to eat people. “Evelyn! I see you really don’t want to live!!” Chapter 3 “Evelyn! You are crazy!!” Julian screamed, reaching into the fireplace recklessly to grab those burning papers. Tongues of fire licked his fingers. He withdrew his hand in pain, but still wouldn’t give up, turning around and pouncing on me like a madman, raising his hand and slapping me hard on the face. Slap! My head was beaten to the side, cheek burning with pain, a trace of blood taste in my mouth. “Do you know how much these manuscripts are worth?! Do you know how important this is to the company?!” Julian grabbed my collar. “This is the trump card I saved for Scarlett to win awards! How dare you burn them?! You just can’t stand seeing Scarlett do well, right?!” He cursed while scratching and clawing at me. Sharp nails cut my neck and arms, leaving trails of blood. I didn’t dodge, nor fought back. I just held that small blue box tightly against my chest, even when pushed into the corner by him, I didn’t loosen a bit. That was Leo. I can’t let him hurt anymore. “Julian! Julian don’t do this!” Scarlett only rushed up to pull him fake-heartedly then. She glanced at the manuscripts turned to ashes in the fireplace, a flash of pleasure in her eyes, but mouth showing heartache for Julian. “Oh my, burned is burned, beating her is useless. Don’t hurt your hand, I’ll be heartbroken.” She stepped forward hugging Julian, looking at me in a mess, sighing with feigned magnanimity. “Actually I can understand Ms. Evelyn.” “After all, I heard she felt she had no status at home these years,” “Maybe she wants to get your attention this way.” “Get attention?” Julian sneered. He looked at me, eyes full of disgust. “Is she worthy? If I didn’t raise her these seven years, she would have starved to death long ago!” “Now daring to burn my things to demonstrate to me? Evelyn, you are simply an ungrateful wolf!” He didn’t know at all. These seven years, who raised whom. Those golden songs that sent Starlight Entertainment public, those hits that made him earn buckets of money, which one didn’t come from these hands? Which one wasn’t written by me draining my heart’s blood? Now, he takes the money I earned, raises another woman, and calls me an ungrateful wolf. Too laughable. I hugged Leo’s urn tightly, slowly sliding down the wall to sit on the floor, mouth curling into a sarcastic arc. “Yes, I am an ungrateful wolf.” I looked up at him, voice hoarse and calm. “So President Julian, since I am this kind of person, what are you waiting for?” “I’ve already signed the divorce agreement on the table. You sign it, we are even.” Hearing the word “divorce,” Julian’s body stiffened. He seemed not to expect that Evelyn, who used to obey him and loved him like life, dared to mention divorce so resolutely. And at a time when he thought I was “making trouble without reason.” “Divorce? Dream on!” Julian suddenly sneered, eyes becoming more sinister. “Burned my manuscripts worth tens of millions, want to leave just like that? No such cheap thing!” “How to calculate those losses? How to calculate Scarlett’s mental damage?” Scarlett rolled her eyes, suddenly interjecting. “Julian, actually it’s not that serious.” “Ms. Evelyn is in the circle after all, although not famous, she knows a bit about music.” She walked to me, looking down at me, wearing a hypocritical smile. “Ms. Evelyn, my charity gala is starting tomorrow night,” “Originally ‘Nirvana’ was to be played by me personally as the finale.” “Now the score is burned, can only use that unfinished draft.” “How about this, you come to the gala tomorrow night too.” “Apologize to Julian in front of the whole city’s media and celebrities, and help me turn pages on stage, be an assistant.” “As long as you are willing to admit in public that you burned the manuscripts out of jealousy, and willing to be my assistant,” “This debt, we can write off.” Make me an assistant? Make me, a former candidate for Vienna’s principal violinist, turn pages for this idiot who can’t even read all the staves? And admit jealousy in public? Julian’s eyes lit up, seeming to think this was a good idea to humiliate me and vent for Scarlett. “Scarlett is right. Evelyn, this is your last chance to redeem yourself.” He pointed at me, tone unquestionable. “Tomorrow night at seven, The Peninsula Hotel.” “Clean yourself up, don’t embarrass me looking like a beggar!” “If you dare not come, or play tricks at the banquet, I’ll make you spend the rest of your life in jail!” With that, he took Scarlett’s arm, stepping over the mess, walking out of the music room without looking back. “Scarlett, let’s go to another room, the air here is too dirty.” “Okay, whatever you say…” The voices of the two drifted away. The music room returned to deathly silence. Only the remaining embers in the fireplace occasionally made cracking sounds. I looked down at the blue box in my arms. Luckily, Leo wasn’t woken up. “Leo, did you hear?” I whispered, eyes gradually turning cold. “They invited Mommy to the gala.” “Good.” I looked at the charred score fragments in the fireplace, only black corners left. On them, vaguely visible notes scorched by fire, seeming to cry, seeming to scream. “Just right, Mommy also wants to send their ‘art’ off for the last time.” “This last performance, Mommy will definitely make them… remember for life.” Chapter 4 The ballroom of The Peninsula Hotel, crystal chandeliers projecting brilliant light. I wore an ill-fitting black dress, standing in the shadow at the side of the stage. This was specially requested by Scarlett. She said my existence would affect the visual beauty of the stage, only worthy of staying in the gutter turning pages for her. Below, celebrities gathered, flashes of cameras blinding. Julian sat in the center of the first row, in a haute couture suit, like a king. He looked at Scarlett on stage, eyes full of pride and expectation. “Good evening everyone.” Scarlett sat in front of the Steinway piano worth millions, speaking affectionately into the microphone. “Tonight, I want to play my original farewell work for everyone — ‘Rebirth’.” “This piece was born under last night’s fireworks, a collision of my inspiration and soul.” Thunderous applause. Scarlett raised her chin at me triumphantly, eyes full of provocation. I looked at her too, mouth curling into a sneer. Start. Let your ugliness have nowhere to hide under the spotlight. Music sounded. As soon as the prelude came out, the whole venue was quiet. That was the prelude of ‘Nirvana’, written by me using complex syncopation to match Leo’s heartbeat. However, listening further, the brows of knowledgeable musicians below furrowed tighter. At the chorus climax, the melody that should have been soaring suddenly became strange and twisted. Scarlett didn’t understand the modulation processing at all. To cover up her fingering that couldn’t reach, she forcibly added an inexplicable glissando. Harsh, abrupt, extremely ugly. “This is… the master’s synesthesia?” Someone whispered below. “Why does it feel a bit out of breath?” Scarlett obviously realized something was wrong too, cold sweat on her forehead. She panicked trying to make up, but played more chaotically, finally even playing a wrong note directly, making a loud CLANG. Scarlett’s hand froze on the keys, face pale as paper. Just then, I walked out of the shadows. “Can’t play anymore? Master Scarlett.” I walked to the piano, in front of everyone, pulling out the blurry photocopied score from her music stand. “Because this fragment can only support you to play till here.” I held up that paper, facing all media and guests below. “This is Ms. Scarlett’s so-called ‘Original’?” “Holding a few burnt pages, not even understanding the rest rests on them, dare to call it a collision of souls?” “The modulation in the twelfth bar, that is compassion only C major can reflect,” “You forcibly changed it to E flat major to show off skills, ugly!” “Evelyn! Shut up!” Scarlett turned angry from shame, standing up abruptly wanting to snatch the mic from my hand. “Security! Where is security! This crazy woman is jealous of me! Get her down quickly!” Uproar below. Reporters’ flashes flashed crazily, shutters clicking continuously. “Jealous?” I sneered, just about to continue exposing her. “Enough!” Julian rushed onto the stage, face iron green. He didn’t question why Scarlett played wrong, nor looked at that fragment score, but rushed directly to me, raising his hand— Slap! Another loud slap. Harder than the one in the music room last night. Half my face swelled quickly, a trace of blood spilling from the corner of my mouth. “Evelyn, have you made enough trouble?!” Julian pointed at my nose, announcing loudly to all guests: “Everyone, really sorry.” “This woman is my ex-wife. Because she has been raised by me, her mind is twisted,” “She can’t stand Scarlett being better than her, that’s why she deliberately made trouble tonight!” “Scarlett’s talent is obvious to all. This song is indeed her inspiration last night.” “As for the mistake just now, it was completely because this crazy woman affected her mind!” Final verdict. He is the President of Starlight Entertainment, he is the capital. He says black is white, then it is white. Public opinion below reversed instantly. “So it’s a gold digger jealous of a genius, disgusting.” “How can such a person have the face to live in the world?” Seeing this, Scarlett immediately put on the face of an aggrieved victim. She clutched her chest, eyes red. “Julian, forget it… Ms. Evelyn followed you for seven years after all, has credit if not hard work. I don’t blame her.” “Just…” She changed the subject, a trace of viciousness flashing in her eyes. “Since Ms. Evelyn looks down on my art so much, and values money so much. How about this.” “Heard Ms. Evelyn studied music before too, those hands even won some Vienna ‘Golden String’ award.” Scarlett pointed at my long hands, mouth curling into a cruel smile. “Since you ruined my premiere, why not bring out your trophy for charity sale to atone.” “Or… ‘donate’ these hands, maybe I can forgive your rudeness.”

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I was at Owen’s place to drop off some hangover soup. His mother pulled me aside, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “The girl who brought him home last night… she slept in the guest room. Don’t get the wrong idea.” I asked without thinking, “What idea would I get? That she’s still too drunk for me to look after her?” The question hung in the air, followed by a dead, unnerving silence. Just then, the guest room door creaked open. A girl in Owen’s button-down shirt emerged, rubbing her eyes. A fresh, angry-red mark bloomed on her collarbone, impossible to miss. It was Owen who broke the silence, his voice rough with sleep. “Paige, let me explain.” I nodded, setting the thermos down on the console table. “Explain what? That the shirt fits her perfectly?” I asked, my voice dangerously calm. “Or do you need me to run out and buy her a woman’s blouse to change into?” This time, the color drained completely from Owen’s face. 1 The moment the car door clicked shut, Owen’s hand shot out to block it. “Paige, it’s not what you think.” I relaxed my grip on the steering wheel and turned to look at him. The early morning light slanted through the windshield, illuminating the dark circles under his eyes. He was wearing the shirt the girl had just taken off, and the collar still carried the faint scent of a perfume that wasn’t mine. “What is it I think, Owen?” I asked evenly. “That you two had a drunken one-night stand? That she wore your shirt on purpose to provoke me? Or that you called me over specifically to witness this little drama?” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “It was the project wrap party last night. Nina drank too much, got sick all over herself. I couldn’t just let her sleep in dirty clothes.” “So you lent her your shirt,” I finished for him. “And the mark on her collarbone? Did you lend her that, too?” His pupils contracted, a flicker of involuntary panic. It was an interesting reaction. I’d known him for twelve years, been with him for seven. I knew what every single one of his micro-expressions meant. That was the instinctual fear of a lie being exposed. He recovered quickly. “She must have done that herself. Paige, can you stop being so sensitive? We’re about to get married.” “That’s right. The wedding’s next month,” I said with a thin smile, starting the car. “Which is why I’m so curious to know why my fiancé let another woman walk out of our future home wearing his shirt.” As I drove out of the complex, I caught a glimpse of Nina in the rearview mirror, standing on the balcony. She was wearing my slippers. And she waved at me. 2 Owen and I met in college. Sophomore year, our club went on a camping trip. The zipper on my tent broke, and I was left standing in the middle of a dark, cold mountain field, hugging my sleeping bag, completely lost. He gave me his tent and sat by the campfire all night himself. When I crawled out at dawn, his shoulders were damp with dew, and tiny droplets clung to his eyelashes. The feeling that rushed through me in that moment was like a mountain spring bursting forth, clear and overwhelming. Later, he told me, “Paige, holding that sleeping bag, you looked like a little lost animal.” He said, “I couldn’t just leave you there.” We dated for three years. He went to grad school; I started working. He started his PhD; I got a promotion. The day he got his official offer from the research institute last year, his colleagues egged him on until he got down on one knee and proposed with the pull-tab from a soda can. “When I have the money, I’ll get you a real one,” he’d said, his eyes shining. I said yes. I never replaced the ring. It’s still that same pull-tab. I threaded it onto a thin chain and have worn it around my neck, close to my heart, for over three hundred days. Until last week, when I saw his purchase history on his phone. A diamond ring from Cartier. A woman’s ring. The status said, “Delivered.” The shipping address was not our home. 3 Proposals and mock-ups were spread all over the conference table at the wedding planner’s office. The planner was in full swing. “For the main color scheme, are we thinking champagne gold or a dusty blue? Dr. Reed, which do you prefer?” Owen was scrolling through his phone, distracted. “Either is fine.” I took the lookbook and pointed to a design. “This one. The gardenia theme. Gardenias were the first flowers he ever gave me.” Owen finally glanced up at me, his expression complicated. After the meeting, he went to get the car. I was waiting on the curb when my phone buzzed. A photo from an unknown number. The second I opened it, my fingers went numb. In the picture, Owen was standing at a jewelry store counter, leaning forward slightly to help a girl try on a ring. The diamond refracted a cold, hard light. He looked just as serious as he had when he’d proposed to me with a pull-tab. The girl’s profile was bright and lovely. It was Nina. A second message followed immediately. [He said this style really suits my hand. What do you think, Paige?] I looked up to see Owen’s car pulling up. He rolled down the window, his tone normal. “Hop in. I’ll take you back to the office.” I deleted the photo and got in. As I fastened my seatbelt, I asked softly, “Owen, if you met someone you liked more, would you tell me?” He frowned. “What’s this about now?” “Just asking.” The car merged into traffic, and the Bluetooth automatically connected to his phone. A series of message alerts chimed, and he fumbled to silence it, accidentally hitting play instead. Nina’s saccharine voice filled the car. “Thanks again for taking care of me last night! Oh, and my parents saw the ring. They absolutely love the style you picked out—” Owen slammed the off button. After a long, heavy silence, he said in a low voice, “Paige, that was a wedding anniversary gift for her parents. Her boyfriend cheated on her, and she asked me to help her pick out a ring to pretend she still had someone who cared.” “So you bought it on your account?” “She just started working. She doesn’t have that kind of money saved up.” I stared out the window at the morning rush hour, a sea of red taillights. This city has eight million cars and three thousand accidents a day, and thirty percent of them are caused by distracted driving. “Owen, pull over. I’ll take the subway,” I said. “What are you starting now?” I unbuckled my seatbelt. “I’m not starting anything. I just had a sudden thought that your passenger seat might have a new occupant very soon.” 4 I couldn’t sleep. At three in the morning, I got up for a glass of water. As I passed the study, I saw a sliver of light from under the door. Owen was still working. The tapping of the keyboard was rhythmic and urgent. In the two years since he’d finished his PhD and joined the institute, he had gotten busier and busier. Overtime was his new normal. I leaned against the doorframe, water glass in hand, and watched his focused profile. I used to love this version of him. Smart, dedicated, full of ideals. He used to say he wanted to develop a more efficient wastewater treatment technology to clean up the polluted river in his hometown. When he said that, we were crammed onto the tiny balcony of our rented apartment, sharing a bowl of instant noodles. The light in his eyes was brighter than any star. But now, that light seemed to be shining somewhere else. “Still up?” he asked, sensing me without turning around. “Thirsty.” I walked in and placed the glass by his hand, my eyes catching the open message window on his screen. I wasn’t the chat pinned to the top. The profile picture was the back of a girl in a lab coat. The contact name read: Nina – Environmental Engineering. The last message was from twenty minutes ago. Nina: [Senior, I double-checked the data on page three of the proposal, and it’s still not adding up. Could you maybe video call and walk me through it?] Owen: [You’re still up this late?] Nina: [Well, you’re not sleeping either. It’s a little scary being home alone. You could just leave the video on to keep me company.] He hadn’t replied to that one. But scrolling up, I saw that last Wednesday at 1 a.m., she’d made the same request, and he had agreed. The chat history included a screenshot from Nina. The video call had lasted two hours and forty-seven minutes. My voice was very quiet. “Owen, do you remember last month when I had a fever of 102? I called you and asked if you could come home early.” His fingers paused on the keyboard. “You said you were in the middle of a critical project phase and couldn’t get away. In the end, my neighbor had to take me to the hospital. I was in the ER on an IV until four in the morning. You got home from work, saw the empty bed, and only then did it occur to you to ask where I was.” He turned around, his brow furrowed. “Paige, are we dredging up the past now?” I shook my head. “It’s not the past. It’s the sudden realization that you do have time. You’re just not willing to give it to me anymore.” The fluorescent light in the study was stark, making his face look sallow. We stared at each other across the chasm of seven years. Between us lay countless nights he’d come home late, countless times I’d waited, swallowing the words I wanted to say. And the image of that girl, walking out of our guest room in his shirt. “Nina is just a colleague,” he finally said, his voice weary. “She’s new to the institute, there’s a lot she doesn’t know. I’m her senior, I’m just mentoring her.” “Does mentoring require house calls? Video calls at three in the morning?” “That was a special situation—” I cut him off. “Owen, that’s what my father used to say.” He froze. “He’d say he was working late, that it was a business dinner, that his female colleague was just for work,” I said, a bitter laugh escaping me as tears welled in my eyes. “Then my mom waited outside a hotel until dawn and saw him walk out with his arm around that ‘just a colleague.’ She was wearing his jacket. Just like Nina was wearing your shirt.” “Don’t compare me to your father!” he snapped, jumping to his feet. “Then stop acting like him!” The shout exploded in the study, then quickly died, leaving a ringing silence. We were like two trapped animals, facing off in the ruins of our seven-year relationship. Finally, he softened. He reached out to touch my face. “Paige, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. But you’re really overthinking this. Nina and I—” I took a step back, avoiding his hand. “The wedding,” I heard myself say. “Let’s postpone it.” 5 The decision to postpone the wedding dropped like a bomb on both our families. My mom drove up from her town that night, carrying bags of home-cooked food and groceries, saying she needed to “help Owen get his strength back.” She had no idea it wasn’t his body that needed fixing, but his straying heart. “Couples shouldn’t let the sun go down on their anger,” she chattered while stuffing cured meats into our fridge. “Owen is such a good kid. A respectable job, and he’s so good to you. He’s just been a bit busy lately. You need to be more understanding.” I didn’t say anything. I just stared at the pile of wedding invitations on the coffee table. Champagne gold cardstock, silver foil lettering. My name and Owen’s, side by side, looking like a perfect match. We had picked out the design together three months ago. He said he wanted the best, that the cost didn’t matter. He’d held me close that day, his chin resting on the top of my head, his voice soft. “Paige, I’m going to give you a wedding you’ll remember for the rest of your life.” The invitations were still here. The man who said those words was long gone. Owen’s mother called, too, her tone cautious. “Paige, dear, I shouldn’t have said anything the other day. The truth is… that Nina girl has had a tough life. Her parents are divorced, she’s all alone out here trying to make it. Owen just has a soft heart. He was only looking out for her because he felt sorry for her.” “Ma’am,” I asked, “if I had been the one to walk out of your guest room that morning, wearing another man’s shirt, would you also think he was just ‘looking out for me’?” The line went silent for a long time, then ended with a sigh. After hanging up, I opened Nina’s social media profile. She had posted a few photos from the institute’s annual party. In one of them, she and Owen were standing side-by-side on stage, accepting an award. She was beaming, and Owen was looking at her, his head turned slightly, a light in his eyes I hadn’t seen in a very long time. [Got an award with my senior! Thanks for all your guidance, looking forward to the future!] In the comments from mutual friends, people were teasing them. [The golden couple!] [When’s the wedding?] She replied with a blushing emoji. I turned off my phone and walked into the bathroom. The woman in the mirror had dark circles under her eyes and a downturned mouth. She looked like a bitter shrew. No wonder Owen was tired of me. Who would want a partner so devoid of life? But I used to laugh and joke. In college, I was on the debate team. Owen came to every single one of my matches, sitting in the front row holding a glowing sign that said “PAIGE FOR THE WIN.” When I won, he’d rush onto the stage, pick me up, and spin me around, shouting to the cheering crowd, “That’s my girlfriend! Isn’t she amazing?” The pride in his eyes back then was real. When did it all change? Maybe it started when he graduated with his PhD and joined that top-tier institute. He was suddenly surrounded by Ivy League alumni and post-docs, discussing international projects. And me? I had a bachelor’s from a state school and worked as an administrator at a small company, dealing with invoices and meeting minutes. We had less and less to talk about. He’d tell me about the lab’s latest breakthrough, and it would all go over my head. I’d tell him about office gossip, and he’d be looking down, texting on his phone. Eventually, he stopped talking about work, and I stopped sharing my life. We became like two strangers sharing an apartment, sleeping in the same bed with a galaxy between us. 6 That weekend, for the first time in ages, Owen didn’t have to work. He said he’d booked a table at a nice restaurant. He wanted to talk. I picked out a dress and put on some makeup, trying to reclaim some semblance of a date night. He had chosen a French restaurant where dinner cost a week’s salary. The floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the river, the lights of passing cruise ships sparkling on the water. As the waiter poured the wine, Owen’s phone screen lit up, then went dark, then lit up again. “Trouble at the lab?” I asked. He silenced the call and placed his phone face down on the table. “It’s nothing. Tonight is just for you.” By the third course, his phone started vibrating again. This time it was a call. The name “Nina” was clearly visible on the screen. Owen glanced at me and declined it. I sliced into my foie gras. “You should get that. It might be an emergency.” “It’s not. Tonight we agreed—” Before he could finish, his phone rang again. Nina’s voice, choked with sobs, came through the speaker. “Senior… my mom’s in the ICU… I’m at the hospital, I’m so scared… can you please come… please?” Owen’s face changed. “Which hospital? I’m on my way.” After hanging up, he looked at me. His eyes were full of guilt, but something else, too: urgency. “Paige, Nina’s mom had a sudden heart attack. She’s in critical condition. She doesn’t have any family here, I…” I put down my fork and knife. “Go. It’s a matter of life and death.” He looked relieved. He stood up so quickly he knocked over his wine glass. The dark red liquid spilled across the white tablecloth and onto my dress, like a vicious wound. “I’m sorry, I—” I dabbed at the stain with a napkin. “It’s fine. Just go.” He rushed out, forgetting even to pay the bill. As the waiter brought the check, I watched the direction he had disappeared and let out a soft laugh. How familiar this all was. Two years ago, I had acute gastroenteritis, curled up on the floor in agony in the middle of the night. I called Owen, and he said he was in the middle of running experimental data and couldn’t leave. I ended up calling an ambulance myself and spent the night in the emergency room. He showed up the next morning with a container of porridge, his face etched with guilt. “I’m so sorry, Paige. The project was at a critical stage.” I told him it was okay, that I understood. And I truly did. I believed his career was important, that our future depended on his hard work now. But it turned out he wasn’t too busy. He just saved his time for people who were more worthy of it. I paid the bill and walked out of the restaurant. The river breeze was cool, carrying the first chill of autumn. My phone buzzed. It was a text from Owen: [Her mom is stable. I’ll be back late. You should get some sleep.] I typed a reply: [Okay.] I thought for a moment, then added another sentence: [Owen, let’s break up.] Then I turned off my phone. 7 Moving out of that house was easier than I expected. Owen stayed at the hospital for three days, which gave me plenty of time to pack. For seven years of a shared life, I had surprisingly few things. Two boxes of clothes, one box of books, and the small jewelry box with the pull-tab ring. Everything else, the furniture, the appliances, the matching sets of dishes, belonged to us. And us no longer existed. I took off the pull-tab necklace and left it on the living room coffee table. Next to it, I placed a printout of the receipt for the diamond ring he’d bought for Nina. I took one last look around the home we had built together. The gardenia on the balcony had withered because I’d forgotten to water it. Owen had forgotten, too. We were both too busy, too preoccupied with our own separate worlds, to remember that the things we shared needed tending. As I was leaving, my next-door neighbor came out to take out her trash. “Going on a trip, Paige?” she asked with a smile. I pulled up the handle of my suitcase. “Yeah, a long one.” I didn’t say I wasn’t coming back. Some goodbyes don’t need a ceremony, just as some relationships don’t even deserve a funeral. I found a temporary one-bedroom apartment in an old building near my office. After the movers left the boxes in the living room, I sat on the floor and started unpacking. At the bottom of the book box, I found an old photo album. The pictures were from college, so young they were almost painful to look at. There was one of Owen giving me a piggyback ride down the mountain. I’d sprained my ankle after that camping trip, and he’d insisted on carrying me. The trail was steep, and he was sweating, but he was smiling. “You’re so light, Paige. I could carry you forever.” I had believed him. As I flipped through, the photos became fewer and fewer. We rarely took pictures after we started working. He was busy, he was tired, he said we were an old married couple, why bother with formalities. The love was already fading then. I was just too slow, or too scared, to admit it. When I turned my phone back on, there were dozens of missed calls, all from Owen. My messages had blown up. The last one was from ten minutes ago: [Paige, where are you? We need to talk. Please.] I replied: [There’s nothing left to talk about. The key is with the building manager. Do what you want with the ring.] He responded instantly: [I’m not breaking up. I don’t agree!] I typed slowly, [It’s been seven years, Owen. Leave me with a little dignity.] The “typing…” bubble appeared and disappeared for a long time. Finally, a message came through. [It’s because of Nina, isn’t it? I swear, there’s nothing going on between us.] [Her mom needed someone, I was just—] I cut him off. [Owen, do you remember when my mom had surgery? Two years ago, to remove a fibroid. The day of the surgery, you said you had a project review you couldn’t miss. I waited outside the operating room alone for six hours. You showed up later with a bouquet of flowers. You said you were sorry you were late. I said it was okay, the surgery was a success. But you never asked me how I got through those six hours. You didn’t see the woman in the next bed, surrounded by her husband and daughter. The sound of their voices made me feel like I was a ghost. And you never noticed that from that day on, I never complained to you again.] After sending that, I blocked his number.

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The yacht carrying my parents and sister exploded at sea. There were no survivors. Left with an empty house and a mountain of debt, my heart was hollowed out by grief. I was standing on the edge of a rooftop, ready to jump, when lines of text, like comments from some unseen audience, scrolled across my vision: [Actually, your parents won 300 million dollars in the lottery. They took your precious baby sister abroad to live in luxury.] [Hehe, and what the baby sister doesn’t know is that the poor, blind boyfriend she dumped is actually the heir to the Croft fortune. He was just playing a ‘pretend to be poor’ game with her.] [When she blows through all the money and comes back, the enraged Mr. Croft is going to lock her away and punish her.] [The cannon fodder needs to jump faster. Can’t wait for the real heroine’s return.] Suddenly, I decided not to die. That night, soaking wet and reeking of cheap whiskey, I stumbled into Donald Croft’s shabby apartment. … I woke to the faint light of dawn, my body aching all over. As I turned my head, Donald’s eyes fluttered open. He was blind. A car accident six months ago had stolen his sight. My sister, Mila, disgusted by his poverty and disability, had tried to break up with him countless times. His beautiful eyes, usually unfocused and empty, were always fixed on some distant, unseen point. But for a split second just now, I could have sworn he was staring right at me. Just as quickly, however, his gaze returned to its usual hollow vacancy. His voice was a low rasp. “Mila? Is that you?” The comments flooded my vision again: [What the hell? The cannon fodder didn’t die? And now she’s in bed with Donald?] [I’m so mad! Is she trying to impersonate Mila? Donald’s eyes have been fine for a while now. If she tries to deceive him, she’s going to die a horrible death!] So, he could see all along. I bit my lip, trying to calm the frantic beating of my heart. My voice was filled with a carefully crafted helplessness. “No, I… I’m her sister, Lena.” “My sister… she passed away.” “I came by yesterday to bring you some of her things, but I was drinking, and I… I don’t remember anything after that.” I glanced at the clothes on the floor, torn and crumpled into a ball, and awkwardly looked away. “Were you… thinking I was Mila last night? I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have been drinking, but I was just so heartbroken.” “After all,” I whispered, my voice breaking, “I’m all alone now.” I let out a small, choked sob. The comments swirled: [So stupid. She’s actually making excuses for him. Donald isn’t really blind. When she threw herself at him last night, all soaking wet, I saw him react instantly.] [What man could resist a bombshell throwing herself into his arms? This girl is a scheming bitch.] My body trembled slightly. The thin blanket slipped from my shoulder, revealing the red marks on my pale skin. Donald’s Adam’s apple bobbed. After a long moment, he finally spoke. “I’m sorry. I mistook you for someone else.” With red-rimmed eyes, I clumsily wrapped the tattered remains of my clothes around myself. “In that case,” I said, my voice thick with feigned dignity, “let’s just pretend this never happened.” “I should go. Please, try not to be too sad.” I stood up, but my legs gave way, and I nearly collapsed. Donald reached out to steady me. The moment his fingertips brushed my wrist, I flinched. More comments: [He’s not sad at all. He already found out Mila faked her death.] [He even hired those debt collectors himself. Forcing Lena to kill herself was his first warning to Mila.] [Mila has no idea her life has been hijacked.] [I hate her! Die, cannon fodder, die, die, die!] I kept my head down and hurried out the door. When I got home, the loan sharks who had been lurking downstairs were gone. My stomach dropped. They really were his men. I closed the door and sank to the floor, exhausted. My body ached everywhere. Of course, I hadn’t been drunk. My original plan, born of desperation, was simply to win a shred of his sympathy, to get him to call off his dogs. I never expected his reaction to be so… intense. We’d gone at it all night. A bitter smile twisted my lips. Donald had been injured in the car accident while saving Mila. But after he became a “disabled” blind man, she couldn’t stand the sight of him. She ignored his texts. She made him wait for three hours in the freezing rain while she video-chatted with someone else upstairs. She called his gifts cheap and threw them in the trash right in front of him. I used to feel sorry for him. But now I saw it was all just a game for a bored, rich boy. The comments erupted into an argument: [I think Mila made the right choice. Who wouldn’t want a rich guy? Who wants a poor, blind boyfriend? If Donald wanted to test her, this game was just cruel.] [Honestly, Mila might be selfish, but she’s lucky. When she gets back with Donald, she becomes the lady of the Croft mansion. And he’ll go right back to spoiling her rotten.] [Exactly. Good girls get a good reputation. Bad girls get everything.] Reading their words, I felt a surge of bitter absurdity. My parents had always favored Mila. She stole my toys, my clothes, my scholarship money. After I started working, they took my salary, earned from slaving away until midnight, to pay for her expensive dance classes and luxury goods. I was supposed to be her stepping stone, the foundation for her success. And now, they’d won 300 million dollars. Not only did they abandon me with their debts, but they were also willing to sacrifice my life to pave the way for hers. Why should she get everything, while I was left to die? Resentment coiled around my heart like a poisonous vine. I had spent my whole life picking up Mila’s scraps. Since she had thrown Donald away, too… I might as well pick him up and make good use of him. I ran into Donald again sooner than I expected. I was leaving the hotel where I worked part-time, bone-tired and weary. I looked up and saw him standing across the street. A cigarette dangled from his lips, his hand resting on a white cane. The boredom of the rich was truly something else. Even with Mila gone, he was still committed to the act. A man nearby seemed to recognize him and started walking over, his face plastered with a sycophantic grin. “Donald!” I suddenly called out, dashing across the street toward him. Before he could react, I grabbed his wrist. “Come with me.” I spoke quickly, my voice low. “I saw someone suspicious heading your way. It might be a debt collector.” “My sister took out huge loans before she… you were her boyfriend, so they’ll definitely come after you. You can’t see. It’s too dangerous.” “You were hurt trying to save my sister. I’ll protect you in her place.” “Don’t worry. As long as I’m alive, I won’t let them hurt you.” “I will never leave you.” My voice was so earnest it was almost reverent. “Will you trust me?” Something in my words seemed to get to him. Donald paused, then took a lazy step forward, letting me lead him away, back to my tiny apartment. And I, true to my word, devoted myself to him completely. When his stomach acted up, I’d crawl out of bed in the middle of the night to buy him medicine. Since he “couldn’t see,” I would take his hand and guide it over every object in the apartment, again and again, until he knew where everything was. I’d go hungry myself, saving every penny I had to take him to the eye doctor for follow-up appointments. Through it all, Donald would watch me with a cool detachment, a flicker of mockery sometimes crossing his features. At the hospital, the doctor shook his head, saying there was no improvement. My disappointment and pain were written all over my face. As we left the clinic, Donald let out a sudden, cold laugh. “I heard you sigh. Is it really that big of a deal? I’m the one who’s blind. What do you have to be sad about?” I stopped and cupped his face in my hands. The surprise in his eyes was, for a moment, completely unguarded. “You’re important to me,” I said, studying his eyes intently. “So when you’re in pain, I feel it too.” “Your eyes are beautiful. I’m not giving up on them.” Donald’s throat moved, and he “looked” at me with a complex expression. My face was a mask of sorrow, but I forced a smile into my voice. “Really. I was just thinking… if you could see again, I’d do anything.” When we got home, I led him inside, my eyes still red. As I poured him a glass of water, half of it spilled down my front. The thin fabric of my shirt became translucent, clinging to my curves. The look in Donald’s eyes changed. I saw the shift in his posture, the subtle tension in his body. Steeling myself, I grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him into a kiss. He froze for two seconds before taking control, his kiss turning fierce and demanding. The next morning, I ached even more than the first time. I forced myself out of bed. Donald was already up. He tossed a necklace at me. “I got this at a street stall a while back. It’s not worth much, but it’s pretty. It’s yours.” The comments exploded: [I can’t believe this. Why is Donald getting tangled up with this cannon fodder? Doesn’t he know Mila was tricked into gambling and is in serious trouble?!] [Isn’t that the diamond Donald bought at auction? Why is he giving it to her? That was supposed to be a gift to appease Mila after he locked her away and she got mad!] [Get your hands off Mila’s man, you pathetic bitch!] I ignored their hysterical rage and stared at the necklace in my hand. A diamond from an auction… It had to be worth a fortune. If I sold it, would I be set for life? Just then, new comments appeared: [Calm down, everyone. Can’t you see Donald is getting ready to dump her?] [His grandfather heard he’s been messing around all year and is furious. He’s ordered him to come home immediately.] [Donald’s worried this cannon fodder will cling to him, so he’s planning to stage his own kidnapping. He’ll have himself thrown into the ocean in front of her to crush any hope she has.] [She’s so delusional. She doesn’t see the way he looks at her, like she’s a dog he’s about to abandon.] He was going back? I clutched the diamond, a surge of dissatisfaction washing over me. All my careful acting, and all I got was one small diamond? Mila had to do nothing, and she would come back to claim everything. It wasn’t fair. That afternoon, Donald said he needed to go out alone and told me not to follow. I knew what he was up to. And I had things to do as well. I went to a pharmacy and bought a pregnancy test. Thinking about how off my body had been feeling lately, my heart hammered against my ribs. When I saw the two stark red lines appear, I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. I still had a trump card to play. Just then, my phone rang. “Lena, is it? You don’t pay your debts, you pay the price. I’ve got your boyfriend. If you don’t want him dead, get to this address.”

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Valentine’s Day, a good day for couples to date. But my boyfriend and I couldn’t meet. Because he was at school doing experiments and rushing papers. I didn’t want to waste time, so after closing the shop, I drove Uber to earn money. Arrived at pickup point, two guys and a girl got in. From the back seat came a girl’s shy voice: “Senior, do you have a girlfriend?” The guy sitting next to me said: He doesn’t have a girlfriend. Have gossip, I pricked up my ears to eavesdrop. At this time, a familiar voice came: “What’s wrong?” Hearing this voice, I looked at the rearview mirror in surprise, Actually found my boyfriend, Liam, sitting in the back. While I was bitterly earning money, He was spending Valentine’s Day with another woman. … Chapter 1 Junior girl tried to cover up and said: “I heard you have a girlfriend, a few years older than you.” I expected him to introduce me to his classmates. The guy in the passenger seat answered first: “That’s his fellow villager, not his girlfriend, how could that kind of woman deserve our Campus Heartthrob?” I braked suddenly, red light. Passenger seat guy scolded: “Driver how do you drive, careful I report you.” I really wanted to turn around let him see who I am. But I couldn’t, because this car was rented from a kind big brother. If discovered I am not the driver himself, big brother’s account will be banned. I can’t let big brother down. Waiting for green light gap, I looked through rearview mirror. The girl behind was turning her face talking to Liam, curled hair tips trembling with laughter. Liam lowered head listening carefully to her, street lights outside window shone his fair handsome face bright and dim. Two people looked really eye-catching. I wrapped tight black puffer jacket, pulled down baseball cap, lest expose unwashed oily hair. Forget it, talk when go back. Car continued driving. “Senior, taste the cupcakes just bought.” Primary school junior girl handed cake to Liam. Instantly a rich aroma spread in narrow space. I smelled this aroma suddenly felt hungry. Immediately stomach growled loud, sound so big, let passenger seat guy laughed tears out. I was awkward, picked up a piece of dry cracker aside padded a bit, drank two mouthfuls plain water then suppressed hunger feeling. This time junior girl took out milk tea handed to Liam again. I chewed dry hard cracker with water, nose full of rich milk aroma, heart not a taste. Destination arrived, they prepared to get off. Just when two people got off, junior girl嬌滴滴 (coquettishly) asked: “Senior, can you be my boyfriend for one night?” I dead grabbed steering wheel waiting for his answer. Bang a sound, car door closed. I couldn’t hear what Liam said. Because anxious, I opened car door prepared to follow. Unexpectedly forgot unbuckle seatbelt, pulled back again. I fiercely unbuckled seatbelt, just walked off car phone rang. Is car rental big brother. “Sister, time up should return car.” “Okay, wait a moment brother!” When I finished call again look up, where still have Liam shadow. I stomped feet angry, thinking of his intimate look with others, Felt myself like a joke. I paid his tuition, provided him eat provided him wear. I am his ATM, his nanny big sister, I lived like a hard-working camel. He even a status disdained give me. Chapter 2 On way back to rental apartment, I picked up phone constantly dialed Liam number, but all hung up. Not a while, a message came: Hello, I am not convenient to answer now please call later. I messaged ask where are you, he also didn’t reply. Call him voice call he also directly hung up. Back to rental apartment, I stood before mirror. Looking at disheveled self inside, thinking of just now that junior girl pretty look. Thinking they tonight want call each other boyfriend girlfriend, I uncomfortable to die. I grabbed facial cleanser crazy wash face, until rub face red then stop. Why must meet this kind of thing when I am ugliest? Looking at embarrassed self in mirror, I thought of past things. Me and Liam both grew up in same small town, count as childhood sweethearts. We together since small, school also always same class. He not only look good also very can study, people ten miles eight villages all know him. SATs over, he got into college, I failed. I followed him come to this city, he school I work. Finally spent old effort opened a women’s clothing store. Slowly, I earned some money rented apartment, he also moved over from dorm. We nest together watch TV series, eat In-N-Out. He graduated bachelor want go Grad School, family didn’t agree. I asked him why want go Grad School? He said Grad School graduate find work earn money more, that time I no need so hard. I heart warm drilled out from quilt, top chicken nest head told him: “I support you read Grad School!” Later. He no longer eat In-N-Out, only go high-end restaurants. He speak always mixed one two English words, never speak hometown dialect again, even me speak he not allow. He became idol in campus. He thoroughly integrated into this city. … Out of bathroom, I saw strawberries on counter. Looking at those red fruits, I washed washed grabbed one threw into mouth. This is my first time eat before him. Over one o’clock, he finally came back. I asked him where went? Why not return call. “I always doing experiment, didn’t look phone.” I just open mouth want expose him, water pipe rang, noisy people can’t speak. Turned into kitchen, I opened cabinet under sink, nimbly twisted valve. Water pipe not ring. Back to original place, I prepared continue confront him, result saw strawberries in trash can. “What you doing! Why throw strawberries!” “Top turned white, keep for what?” I angry crazy, from trash can lifted strawberries out put under tap constantly wash. He stepped back a step, tone full dissatisfaction: “This how dirty ah, buy again not fine.” He said lightly, he has no concept of money. Just this bit strawberry full $10, enough me eat a week meal. I suddenly lost idea confront him: “Let’s break up.” He surprised look me, full face disbelief: “For a bag strawberries you want break up, worth it ma?” I looked out window: “I said break up.” His face sank, completely can’t see just now tenderness in car. “I go back dorm sleep.” Finished he kicked trash can, slammed door left. Chapter 3 Next day, I didn’t go open shop. Arrived noon, I made myself super many delicious food. Before if just me alone at home, only deal with two bites. Liam if here I would serious cook, then face expect beg him praise. But he always say a “okay”, I angry argue with him. To that time he always say: “Delicious I will eat two more bites, why must praise you?” I told him want his encouragement, he but golden mouth hard open, never praise me. Carried last dish on table, I just sat down picked up chopsticks. Key turning sound came from outside door. Is Liam, meal time he came back. I didn’t care him, self care eat. He stood good half day see me not squeak, self pulled stool sat down. Table no his bowl chopsticks, he can only watch me eat. “I wrong okay, this give you.” He from pocket took out a exquisite packaging box pushed to me. Box printed a brand I only seen on TV. He never gave me such expensive gift. Unconsciously, my heart wavered a bit. Originally want reach hand take, hand about touch box suddenly sober up. He see me hesitate, like made up sky big determination unwilling said: “I shouldn’t throw strawberries.” He actually apologizing for this matter, I sneered, who knew this expression provoked him. “You what expression? Because such a small matter mention break up, you changed! Not sensible as before.” I “Whoosh” stood up, meet his surprised eyes ask: “You yesterday night exactly went do what?” He stunned a bit, immediately recover calm: “In lab doing experiment ah, want me say how many times then believe?” Didn’t expect he still not admit. I originally still want pursue ask, but words all said out suddenly feel my behavior so ridiculous. Even if he finally admitted went out date with others again can how? Again flow tears ask once you still love me ma? Answer already very obvious. Just like scratch card, already scratched out “Thanks”, must scratch finish ma? I no longer ask, re-sat down eat. He see me change past break pot ask to bottom style, some surprised, immediately tone soft down. “Okay don’t throw temper, this week bowls all belong me, okay ba.” I still silent, he sat closer bit, unfamiliar put hand on my hand back. I before taught him, I angry time just pull my hand, but he rarely do. He long time didn’t pull my hand… Cheap thought just冒 (pop) from heart, Liam one sentence just give me extinguished. “School want pay tuition, you transfer me $5,000.” I said always proud him how will apologize to me, still send gift still promise wash bowl ne? Turns out all because money ah. I told him: “I no money.” He speed become fast: “You how possible no money, you that card…” Words said half, he stopped. I know he this person most hate talk money. Before I in shop bargain with customers time he just can’t watch down, feel I really vulgar. But his all eat wear use cost all me this vulgar person earn. Clearly I am person earn money, why I but so aggrieved ne? I don’t want again entangle with him, stand up use most serious tone say: “Break up, return house key me.” He sneered nodded: “Good, break up then break up, you don’t regret.” I won’t regret. Chapter 4 He left after I originally wanted tidy room again. But this room full of our memories, no matter how I clean it still there. Finally, I decided move house. Spent afternoon time, I packed all things organized good. Originally want throw that exquisite gift box on table, finally thought thought still return him. After all, waste things at me here is shameful. Packed things belong him mailed to school give him after, I last look around a circle this place full my memories. Drag luggage case head not back left. Arrived shop, I just settled all things good. Landlord phone called over, urge me pay rent. I transfer to other side time, bank sent message said balance insufficient. How possible? Rent only $3,000, I this card has $15,000 money ne. I open mobile banking look, balance is zero. This money is I so many years save eat save use saved down, is Savings I saved for myself, how can a cent no have! I panicked, fire urgent fire burn ran to bank, bank people told me money all through Venmo transfer to this card. I pick up card number look, is Liam bank card. Is him transfer my money to own card, then deleted notification message. I sat on bank door steps loud cry, people come go all disgust look me. I cried enough, stand up straight run their university. I want let him return money! Entered campus I confused, here too big. I only been their playground, still I begged Liam a week he then took me come. I called countless phone calls, all hung up. No way, I can only find people ask. Found a circle, finally found a guy can contact him. “Big sister, you wait a bit ah, I give senior call.” Guy should be contacted Liam, nod to me let me sit a while. Sure enough, not a while Liam appeared. He full face anger fast walked over from distance, a grab me just take out school gate, as if I am what dirty thing. I a throw away his hand: “You don’t move!” He lower voice say: “Go out say!” “No, just here say!” Liam eyes seem spraying fire, dead stare me. Surrounding look over people more and more. “This person wouldn’t be Liam girlfriend ba?” “This how possible, Liam is Campus Heartthrob eye blind find such.” “God, I if found by such a woman I just social death.” I lowered head looked myself, bloated puffer jacket, baggy pants, and a cry messy face. This time crowd walk out a exquisite pretty girl, actually is yesterday car on junior girl. She scan scan me, eyes reveal contempt: “Senior, who is this ah?” Liam face reveal gentle expression, eyes inside all threat: “She is my fellow villager big sister, drop by see me.” I stunned in place. This words from his mouth personal say out actually so piercing ear. He dragged stunned me came to a no people corner, a push me away disgust say: “You not dislike shame ma? Without my permission you not allowed come find me!” He one sentence call me back spirit, not care sad I loud question him: “My card inside ten thousand dollars ne?” He brow frown, cold say: “Last weekend went skiing bought some equipment.” How matter of course. I didn’t ask what equipment so expensive, just let him return money to me. He tilt head, like heard what outrageous thing. “You crazy ma? Sudden run come just for ask me want money?” “I not crazy, return my money to me!” He see me shouted, a hand cover my mouth. “Don’t noise, have matter good say!” Face pinched raw pain, tears unconscious flowed down. I a struggle open him, back one step look his eyes solemn say: “Liam, you look down me then don’t spend my money. Within three days, you return my fifteen thousand dollars, otherwise we see at police station!” Finish this sentence, I a take out pocket gift box threw on him. Box fall drop out inside thing. Is a tie clip. So ironic, gift he give me is man use.

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Everyone thought I was the Mrs. Vance, pampered in the palm of Julian Vance’s hand. But in five years of marriage, I haven’t spent a penny of Julian’s money. The Century Wedding held was sponsored by brands. Even various supplies at the wedding were gifts from partners. Until five years later, my mom was critically ill and urgently needed medical expenses. I gritted my teeth and used Julian’s bank card to pay. The next day, I received a lawyer’s letter from Julian. “Pay back the money within three days, or else, I cut off your mom’s medicine.” I forced my tears back, worked several jobs a day, even borrowed from everyone around. The night I paid back the money, I went to the hotel private room, but bumped into him pinning his former secretary against the wall, handing over a Black Card. “Hailey, where a man’s money is, his heart is.” “Hundreds of millions of assets all for you, don’t leave me okay?” I froze all over. Hailey smiled and refused. “So much money, but it’s joint property of you and Scarlett Sterling, if you give it to me like this, your wife will be unhappy.” Mentioning me, Julian sneered. “That Gold Digger, back then designed to climb into my bed and fired you, marrying her was just to help you vent a bad breath.” “Hailey, as long as you agree to marry me.” “I won’t hesitate, immediately kick that Gold Digger.” … Chapter 1 My body stiffened in place, hands and feet cold. Gold Digger. Married for five years, I basically wouldn’t ask Julian for money. Except when it was extremely difficult, I had to open my mouth to Julian. But every time. Julian would always sigh and say to me, “Company cash flow is tight, we have to be frugal.” So I listened, and believed. Could avoid, always would avoid giving him trouble. Even if really forced to use Julian’s money. Also had to return it within the deadline he set. Everyone thought I was the glorious and pampered Mrs. Vance. But no one knew after marriage I always worked as an independent woman, also responsible for the expenses of a big family. Now, just because of a medical fee. I became the Gold Digger in Julian’s mouth. Even more, that night he got drunk and we had relations, in his view was also my scheming design. Even marrying me back then, was just to vent anger for ex-secretary Hailey. Tears dropped, blown away by cold wind. I don’t remember how I walked out of the private room. I stood by the river for a long time, thought a lot, especially Hailey’s face lingering in my mind. Probably five years ago. When Julian and I just got married. I bumped into Julian and the little secretary deep kissing with the help of alcohol at the company annual party. That time I was young and couldn’t hold my temper, went up and slapped Hailey. Red eyes scolded her: “Company is not a place for you to seduce men!” “Holding someone else’s husband to kiss, are you so shameless!” That slap. Made Julian determined to fire Hailey. After calming down, he apologized to me more than once. “Scarlett, that day was just a misunderstanding.” “Colleagues all drank too much, Secretary Hailey mistook me for another man.” Clearly his lie was so lame, but I still self-deceptively believed it. After being fired from the company, Hailey was independent and strong, she refused to accept Julian’s money and compensation. Ran out to start her own business, selling goods in front of TikTok Live camera. Julian swiped five hundred orders every day, forcedly praised Hailey into a top sales anchor. Hailey knew, returned all the things back. “Don’t spend money recklessly in the future, otherwise your wife will be unhappy.” She turned and went abroad. Since then Julian acted like nothing happened, being a loving couple with me in front of people. Five years later, his company grew bigger and stronger, directly moved the headquarters abroad to Paris. In a few days, Julian was going to take me abroad to hold the relocation ceremony. When Julian came back, I returned the gathered money to him. “Not a penny less, you take it well.” “Mm.” Julian unceremoniously took it back, turned to transfer money to Hailey on phone screen. Looking up saw my face gloomy, Julian smiled, subconsciously explained. “Scarlett, don’t blame me for being stingy, I do this also to cultivate you.” “After all money in my hand is all our joint property, in the future all yours too.” I lowered my head sneering, didn’t speak. I saw Hailey wearing that luxury necklace named “Heart of the Ocean” Julian gave me last year on her neck today. After attending a grand banquet. After receiving others’ praise and flattery. After Julian gained the reputation of loving wife. It mysteriously disappeared. I searched every corner of the house, didn’t find it, now saw it on Hailey’s neck. On the way back, I had a bellyful of questions, wanted to ask Julian. But now didn’t want to say a word. Blink of an eye to the relocation ceremony in Paris. Just got off the flight, Julian took assistant hurriedly went to company first. I following behind was covered by a sack, stuffed into a strange black car. I tear-heart-crack-lung shouted Julian’s name. But he never turned back once. I was stuffed into the car. Julian excitedly tidied his attire, went to meet Hailey with a grand posture. “Hailey, look at me.” “To see you conveniently, I already moved the headquarters abroad.” Julian held her hand, deeply affectionately placed on his own face. “Those things you wanted back then I have all, what others can give you, I can give you.” Hailey wearing Chanel suit, seemed shocked by man’s deep affection, small mouth slightly open, confused looking at him. “Julian Vance, no…” She wanted to refuse, half push half accept. Man however domineeringly lowered head kissed up. Watching the scene in phone screen, my tears couldn’t help sliding down. Bias beside voice mockingly sounded. “Darling, I said your husband doesn’t love you.” “What are you doing with this kind of man? Might as well divorce and follow me.” Man took off mask on face. Revealed that familiar face. Chapter 2 Liam Quinn. My childhood sweetheart, chased me for many years before marriage. Liam is a complete Yandere (Sickly Possessive), I thought after marrying Julian, he went abroad and cut off thoughts. Didn’t expect waiting for me here. He raised hand stroked my face, action incomparably deep affection. “You look at your husband, now holding other woman in arms, a little secretary from five years ago still so unforgettable, your husband really no ambition.” “Keeping body like jade for such an unworthy man, don’t you feel aggrieved?” I teary eyed looked at the scene in phone screen. Hailey half push half accept, forcefully pushed Julian away. “Julian Vance, don’t be like this!” “Last time returning to country for business trip, in private room I already said clearly. I impossible accept you, you think about your wife Scarlett, if she knows you are so obsessed with other woman now, how sad would she be?” “I already fled abroad, you don’t pester me anymore…” Julian silently looked at her leaving back. Didn’t chase up. Just like made up determination, faintly spit out few words. “I can divorce.” Hailey froze, slowly turned back. “What did you say?” Julian low voice repeated: “I never loved Scarlett Sterling.” “Hailey, just like said last time, as long as you willing accept me, I can immediately divorce with her.” Saying he walked forward, carefully held Hailey’s hand. “And these five years we are just surface couple, I never touched her at all.” Julian didn’t tell lie. These five years, every time he got drunk, locked himself in study, venting to Hailey’s photo. To me this wife loving in front of people, he always hide as far as can. Hailey was moved, tears in eyes. “Julian, why bother? I am a secretary…” She hadn’t finished her last word, was blocked by Julian with mouth. Soon, their arms entangled together, kissing inseparable. I always calmly looked at them. Time so long that, Liam looked at me with eyes full of sympathy and panic. “Scarlett, if you sad you can cry…” I laughed, said to Liam: “Okay, I can marry you, but you have to promise me a condition——” “I want divorce, want Julian leave with nothing, let him, peel off a layer of skin.” This answer obviously made Liam satisfied. Liam let me out. He gave me three days time, let me do good handover. “Scarlett, don’t think playing any tricks, now Julian already moved company headquarters abroad, you can’t return country for a while.” He bought me favorite strawberry cake, piled full yard roses, warm hospitality me. He said as long as I willing nod, can return everything originally belong to me back. Even can help take assets under Julian name all to me. Good woman get reputation, bad woman get everything. Although I didn’t get love, that property should have right? After all I was Julian’s good wife deeply loved for five years. Can’t just bear reputation, not take benefit. I agreed to this cooperation. When went back, I just entered door saw Julian iron green face. Distance my missing already passed three days. He didn’t ask me how I passed these three days, where I went, and how came back. Just voice cold concise told me: “Trouble you caused, now need you to solve.” I then knew. Yesterday, paparazzi secretly took photos of Influencer Hailey and Julian intimate actions. Some insider added oil added vinegar on internet, talked about details of Julian cheating with his secretary. Hailey now pushed to wind mouth wave tip by cyberbullying, constantly losing followers, she anxious don’t know what to do. “Need you come out to clarify.” Julian already sat whole afternoon, just waiting me agree go attend press conference. He required me clarify couple feeling not broken, help Hailey refute rumors. I calmly looked at him, “Based on what you think I will agree?” Julian coldly lifted eyes. “Don’t forget, if not because of you, Hailey today simply wouldn’t need suffer this kind of cyberbullying.” I laughed. Five years ago, after that drunken time, they dry wood fierce fire, almost lay on one bed. Was me unintentionally took reporter best friend break in. That day matter exposed. Hailey couldn’t stay in domestic circle, for reputation, for hiding wind head, could only go abroad. Julian surface said nothing, but actually always hated me. “That day I have things, can’t go press conference.” “You can have what things?” Julian sneered, directly threw that document on my face. “As long as you clarify, help Hailey solved this crisis, company 10% shares will transfer to your name.” Seeing Share Transfer Agreement few big words, I stunned. This 10% shares. I fought for five years, didn’t succeed. My dad critically ill urgent need medical fee, I even knelt in front of Julian begged him. Let him save my dad, want me do what all willing. But that time, Julian how did ne? He dead choked my neck. “If not because you took that broken reporter, ruined Hailey reputation, her mom wouldn’t mind restless, car accident on road!” “These are all your retribution!” That time Julian, not only didn’t help my dad raise medical fee, instead instructed those doctors not save people. Now holding this share transfer agreement. Julian started second time threat. “If I remember correctly, your brother should be sent by you to this country study middle school right?” Julian eyes full of threat meaning. “If Hailey unable pass this crisis, then your brother, afraid also no school can go.” Chapter 3 He took out phone, called out a photo. Blood all brain surged to top of head, I couldn’t help slapped him a slap. “Julian Vance, are you still human?” He however coldly stared at me. “Scarlett Sterling, this slap, and those accounts before, I will add up calculate with you.” I couldn’t help bitter smile. Turns out, already passed five years, he still hates me. In front of Hailey, he is a dead Yandere. Even when Hailey hit him. He also didn’t angry, instead that night wrote in his diary: “Came before slap, is fragrance on Hailey body.” But only to me, so cold, and so vicious. Julian threatened with my brother. Half day, I showed bitter smile, spine bent down. “Okay, I agree.” “Go attend press conference.” I agreed very crisp, Julian sighed relief, satisfied looked me up and down. “As long as you settle all this, return Hailey innocence, I can consider accompany you tonight.” That high above charity tone. Made me feel stomach overturn river sea, even throat couldn’t help want dry vomit. “No need, you better go accompany your secretary.” I mocking open mouth. Brush past his shoulder, leave. Full five years, I always slept alone. Everyone thought me and Julian how loving, but actually me this wife just a decoration. This kind of days I long lived enough, so I willing make space for Hailey. Blink eye to conference site. Julian as always created loving wife persona, opened car door for me, helped me hold skirt hem. Magnesium light shone on me. Reporters swarmed. “Miss Sterling, you appear at conference site today, is heard your husband and anchor Hailey scandal ma?” “Miss Sterling, heard Anchor Hailey before was you and Mr. Julian Vance secretary, they between have ambiguous relationship, is this true false?” “Miss Sterling, your husband public give you wear green hat, how you can still so loving attend event with him ah?” … Reporters sharp words pounced face come. Julian pinched on my arm, when lowered head, calmly whispered in my ear. “Turn to you to clarify, say clear point.” I face hung smile, took microphone. “Believe previous period everyone definitely heard, my husband Julian and Anchor Hailey matter, noise boiling.” “Today come attend this press conference, I just want tell everyone——” Saying I tone paused. Face to face took out a pregnancy test report from bag. “This is my husband’s child.” Julian fierce lift head look me, eyes meaning unclear, seem also very surprised. Hailey standing beside, lips tight purse, face pale staring me. Those reporters also one after another gossip up, scene instant boil. “Miss Sterling, are you pregnant? But how I look not too like ah?” “Main wife all come out clarify, people two feeling good ne, you guys don’t blind spread rumors…” “Looks like Miss Sterling and Mr. Julian are true love, people not know situation, don’t blind say, okay not okay?” In their words, I opened mouth: “You guys misunderstood.” I smiling pointed Hailey beside. “Pregnant person of course is our big anchor, Miss Hailey.”

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In my past life, my sister married the son of our county’s old money dynasty and became a pampered socialite. But the fairy tale quickly turned into a nightmare of backstabbing and betrayal. She was poisoned and crippled by her husband’s mistress, dying a slow, agonizing death. Meanwhile, the poor farm boy I married was revealed to be the long-lost heir to a powerful family from the capital. Consumed by jealousy, my sister lured me to a secluded park and stabbed me with a butcher knife until I was a human sieve. Now, reborn, I watch as my sister shoves the wealthy heir aside and grabs the farm boy’s hand with unwavering determination. “Sister, I’m stealing your destiny this time. It’s your turn to be poisoned to death by a mistress!” But my dear sister, there’s something you don’t know. I’m bound to a Husband-Boosting System. It’s not that I have a golden destiny. It’s that whoever I marry is destined to become a tycoon. 1 “Dad! Mom! I’m marrying Shane Roberts!” Seeing my sister, Laura, push Griffin Blackwood away and cling to Shane’s arm, my mother froze mid-sentence. It hit me then. I had been reborn. This was the day my sister and I were supposed to choose our husbands. A second later, my mother smacked Laura’s hand away, stomping her foot in frustration. “Laura, are you insane? Shane is a dirt-poor nobody from the next village over! His family can’t even afford a brick house! Are you going to marry him and starve?” Realizing her slip, my mother turned to me with an awkward smile. “Uh, Hannah, I mean, marrying Shane isn’t so bad! His little mud-brick cottage is probably very cozy, cool in the summer, warm in the winter… practically as good as Griffin’s villa!” My father slammed his pipe on the table. “Stop this foolishness! We are your parents, and this is our decision, not yours.” “Laura, you’ve always been delicate. I paid the matchmaker a fortune to find you a good match. You’re going to throw away a life of luxury to marry a farmer? I won’t let you suffer your whole life!” My mom chimed in, forcing a laugh. “Exactly! Your sister has always loved farm work. She’s strong and sturdy. Marrying that country boy is perfect for her. You stay out of it. Would your parents ever do you wrong?” But Laura just pouted, snatched a kitchen cleaver, and held it to her own throat. “I don’t care! I’m marrying Shane, and if you don’t let me, I’ll die right here!” My parents leaped from their chairs and scrambled to grab her. Their favoritism wasn’t entirely without reason. Laura was only a year older than me. When she was born, our family was so poor we couldn’t afford formula. Since my mother couldn’t produce milk, our aunt in the city took Laura in and raised her. Laura went to a vocational school in the city, but after three years of unemployment, she moved back to our village. She was twenty-one, and I was twenty. I thought my parents would be distant with the daughter they never raised, but I was wrong. They saw Laura, raised in the city, pale and beautiful like a swan, and then they looked at me, tanned and calloused from twenty years of farm work, and they were instantly ashamed of their coarse country daughter. From the day she returned, they treated her like a princess, vowing to marry her off to a wealthy family. The matchmaker brought two men: Griffin Blackwood, the heir to the county’s wealthiest family, and Shane Roberts, a young farmer from the neighboring village. Griffin was immediately taken with the beautiful Laura, and she was ecstatic at the thought of marrying into wealth. That left me with Shane. On the verge of becoming a socialite, Laura couldn’t resist taunting me. “Well, you know what they say, every pot has its lid. I was born for a life of luxury, Hannah. Don’t be jealous. You were just born to be a farmer’s wife, hahaha!” But less than a year after her wedding, Laura’s life was a constant war against Griffin’s endless parade of mistresses. One day, while Griffin was out of town, one of the women snuck into their villa and poisoned her water. Laura collapsed, vomiting blood. They saved her life in the ICU, but the poison left her mute, blind in one eye, and plagued by violent seizures. She wasn’t expected to live long. Meanwhile, the poor farmer I married, the one who lived in a dilapidated mud-brick house, had his life turned upside down. One day, a convoy of black cars rolled into our village. A powerful man from the capital had come to take Shane home. It turned out Shane was his only son, lost in a tragic accident years ago. Shane took me with him back to the capital. We moved into a sprawling mansion, with luxury cars and a staff of servants. We were living a life our village neighbors couldn’t even dream of. When my sister found out, she was consumed by rage. She took a train to the capital and tricked me into meeting her. The moment I arrived at the park, she pulled out a butcher knife and began stabbing me, again and again, in a frenzy. “Why?! I married the rich one and I’m dying, while a country hick like you gets everything?! It’s not fair! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!” Within minutes, she had turned me into a bloody sieve. I died on the cold ground. My thoughts snapped back to the present. I wasn’t the only one who had been reborn. So had Laura. Why else would she be so desperate to choose Shane? But dear sister, you’ve made a fatal mistake. It wasn’t my destiny to be rich. It’s that I have a Husband-Boosting System. Whoever I marry becomes destined for greatness. This time, you want the farm boy? Fine. I won’t fight you. Let’s see how you change his fate without my system. 2 My parents, terrified of Laura’s threats, reluctantly agreed to let her marry Shane. And so, once again, I was treated like a spare part, handed off to Griffin Blackwood, the man she had rejected. As the decision was finalized, Laura leaned in and whispered in my ear. “Surprise, little sister. I’m back. I’ve stolen your golden ticket, and I’m off to become the darling of the capital’s elite. You can have my old life. Have fun being poisoned and disfigured by Griffin’s mistresses before you die a miserable death!” I remained calm, offering a faint smile. “Oh, really? Well, congratulations, then.” Soon after, Laura eagerly married Shane, settling in to wait for her fabulous destiny to unfold. And I married Griffin Blackwood, the heir to the county’s old money. In the wedding car, Griffin leaned back, a toothpick dangling from his lips. “Let’s get one thing straight, Hannah. I’m rich, I’m handsome, and you’re not going to be the only woman in my life. The only reason I’m marrying you is because you’re a simple country girl with no connections. You’ll be easy to manage. Once you’re in my house, you’ll live a comfortable life, but you will stay out of my business with other women. Got it?” I nodded obediently. “Don’t worry. I know I’m not good enough for you. You wanted my sister. I’ll be quiet. Just please don’t divorce me.” I already knew that Griffin, despite his wealth and good looks, was a notorious playboy. Most of his affairs weren’t even his doing; women threw themselves at him. He was a rich, handsome man—who was he to say no? That’s why, even when he married my sister in our past life, the women never disappeared. But honestly, besides his cheating, Griffin wasn’t a bad person. He didn’t gamble or do drugs, and he spent most of his time helping his father run their family business. In my past life, after my sister was poisoned and left a disabled wreck, Griffin had a complete wake-up call. He hired the best lawyers to ensure the mistress received a life sentence, and he nearly bankrupted his family paying for my sister’s medical care. Though she eventually died from complications, Griffin never remarried and never touched another woman again. He dedicated himself to the business, expanding their fortune tenfold and becoming a nationally recognized entrepreneur. So no, Griffin wasn’t just a spoiled brat. He was just young and reckless when he got married. No one is perfect. He wasn’t a lost cause. That night, after the wedding guests had left, Griffin stumbled into our room, reeking of alcohol. He shot me a cold look. “Don’t even think about a wedding night. You’re just a tool to get my parents off my back. I’m going to see my girlfriend. You can go to sleep.” I wasn’t flustered. I just spoke softly. “It’s cold out. You should wear a jacket. And try to be back before dawn, so Mom and Dad don’t see you.” Griffin froze, staring at me in disbelief. “Wow. You’re taking this surprisingly well.” He turned and left. Less than twenty minutes later, someone burst through the front door in a panic. “Help! Mr. Blackwood crashed his car on the county line! He was drunk… they think he has internal bleeding! He needs to get to a hospital now!” Everyone in the house was asleep. I threw on a coat and ran outside. I didn’t have a license, and on a snowy night like this, there were no taxis. Without a second thought, I hoisted all six-foot-two of Griffin onto my back and ran through the snow to the nearest emergency room. The hospital had a blood shortage. Without blinking, I donated half of my own blood to save him, passing out from the strain. The next morning, Griffin woke up and saw me, pale and so weak I couldn’t even stand. His eyes turned red. “I was such a bastard to you, and you still saved my life. You’re a fool.” I managed a weak smile. “You can be a bastard, but you’re still my husband.” With that, Griffin pulled me into a tight embrace and cried like a child. 3 Just then, the door to the hospital room slammed open, and my in-laws rushed in. The moment my mother-in-law saw me, she started screaming. “You jinx! The first day you’re in our family, you put our son in the hospital! What kind of wife are you? You can’t even keep an eye on your own husband on a snowy night?!” My father-in-law, his face livid, pointed a finger at me. “He is our only heir! If anything happens to him, I will hold you responsible!” They lunged toward me, ready to strike, but Griffin scrambled to hold them back. “Dad! Mom! Calm down! It’s not Hannah’s fault! It was my fault! I left her on our wedding night to go see another woman and I crashed the car! If she hadn’t given me half her blood—so much that she almost didn’t wake up—I would have bled to death last night!” My in-laws stared, first at Griffin, then at me, their faces a mask of disbelief. “Is… is that true?” “This country girl loves you that much?” A passing nurse couldn’t help but chime in. “Of course it’s true! Can’t you see how pale and weak your daughter-in-law is? She gave your son over four pints of blood last night! She almost died herself!” My mother-in-law stammered, “But… but how is that possible? I heard she was forced to marry into our family for the dowry—” “That’s enough, dear!” my father-in-law interrupted, his tone changing completely. “If Hannah saved our son’s life, even after he abandoned her on their wedding night, then she is the best daughter-in-law we could ever ask for. There’s no room for doubt!” He paused, then slapped his thigh. “Since she saved Griffin’s life, it proves her love is genuine. Daughter-in-law, as soon as you’re recovered, I’ll add your name to the deed of the villa I bought for Griffin. And do you prefer a BMW or a Mercedes? Dad will get you one, so you have something to drive around in!” The sudden reversal in their attitude left me speechless. I knew they looked down on me and had been planning how to win them over, but I never expected it to happen this quickly. I gave them an awkward smile. “Griffin is my husband. I had to save him, no matter the risk. But… I don’t have a driver’s license…” “Not a problem!” my mother-in-law beamed. “Once you’re feeling better, I’ll enroll you in the best driving school, and we’ll order the car. By the time you get your license, the car should be delivered!” A week later, Griffin’s father personally drove us home in his Mercedes. Because I was still recovering, they hired an extra maid just to take care of me. A month later, I had my license, my brand-new BMW arrived, and my name was on the deed to the villa. At the party celebrating our recovery, all of Griffin’s relatives toasted me respectfully, calling me a selfless hero who had saved her husband. I had officially been accepted by the family. I remembered my wedding day vividly. These same relatives had drunkenly mocked me, calling me a peasant who had married a prince. Even my in-laws had sneered that I was a coarse, ugly girl, and that Griffin marrying me was like planting a rare orchid in a pile of manure. Griffin had heard it all and just laughed along with them. Now, just over a month later, everything had changed. Most importantly, during our recovery, Griffin’s phone rang constantly with calls from his other women. And right in front of me, he answered every single call and broke up with them, one by one. The night of our recovery party, Griffin deliberately stayed sober. As soon as it got dark, he eagerly pulled me into our bedroom. “Wife, tonight we’re going to make this marriage real.”

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Helping my childhood friend, who was hospitalized, to the restroom, I bumped into my ex-boyfriend whom I hadn’t seen for five years at the door. He was half-hugging a pregnant woman, head slightly lowered, in an intimate posture. I vaguely heard the pregnant woman call him “Hubby.” Five years after the breakup, I had imagined the reunion scene countless times, but never dared to think he was already married. 1 My mom repeatedly instructed me that Ethan Cole had just undergone surgery and needed someone to stay with him and take care of him for a few days. And this burden naturally fell on me, who had just resigned. Before leaving, my mom saw my reluctance and her tone was quite resentful, “Ethan is a good kid, and I watched him grow up. How is he worse than that Caleb Rivers? Why are you so stubborn…” “Mom!” I stopped her sternly almost immediately. Never thought that even after five years, just hearing this name would make my nose burn terribly, and my heart still had a deep stinging sensation. “You guys just keep trying to matchmake blindly. Anyway, Ethan doesn’t like me.” I tried my best to control my breathing, threw down a hard sentence, and left with the thermos. Arriving at the ward, Ethan was holding his phone, eyes focused, slender fingers jumping back and forth on the screen. A girl’s coquettish voice came through the receiver, sounding exactly like the type Ethan liked. “Do you look like a patient at all?” He glanced at me and smiled carelessly, “Jealous?” I couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to him and picked up a book to read on my own. Half an hour later, Ethan suddenly grabbed my arm. “Speak.” I didn’t look up. He was silent for a while, almost gritting his teeth to say, “I need to go to the bathroom.” My movement paused, looking up, just in time to see Ethan’s slightly turned profile and reddened ear tips. Helping a six-foot-three adult was really a bit strenuous. He was very weak, and almost all his weight was on me. Walking to the bathroom, I almost fainted from exhaustion. Finally waiting for him to finish, this guy still had some conscience, leaning against the wall himself, letting me rest a bit more. Raising my hand to wipe sweat and tidy up my disheveled appearance, I saw Caleb Rivers in a white coat just like that. He seemed to be waiting for someone. In the dim light, the man’s features were distinct, with a high nose and thin lips, cold eyebrows slightly lowered, gradually overlapping with the clean and indifferent young man in my memory. All reason, restraint, and forbearance were shattered, and I almost rushed up. If a pregnant woman hadn’t appeared beside him. He lowered his head slightly, half-hugging the pregnant woman, in an intimate posture. What chilled my heart even more was that I vaguely heard the pregnant woman call him: “Hubby.” 2 “Holly, lost your soul?” I suddenly came back to my senses, almost dropping the IV bottle in my hand. Ethan raised the corner of his eye with a smile, “Thinking about a wild man behind my back? Hmm?” Don’t know if this guy did it on purpose, but when he said this, his whole body leaned on me again, not to mention his voice was quite loud. The warm breath fluttered on my ears, making me shrink my neck uncomfortably. Just wanted to push him away, suddenly felt a gaze sweep over. I looked at Caleb not far away almost subconsciously. Eyes met. If the Caleb from five years ago saw this, he would definitely walk over with a cold face, hug my waist firmly, and declare sovereignty through gritted teeth. At night, no matter how I coaxed him physically, he wouldn’t let it go. Even in the end, he would act aggrieved, “You are not allowed to like anyone else.” Such a petty Caleb, such a Caleb who loved me… Now he just looked at me calmly, without any waves. He said lightly to the pregnant woman beside him, “Let’s go.” Watching the backs of the two leaving, my heart seemed to have a big hole. Five years after the breakup, I had imagined the reunion scene countless times, but never dared to think he was already married. I bit my lip tightly, trying to soothe the sour emotion in my heart, but it still kept fermenting and spreading in my chest. For a moment, I really wanted to rush over and question him regardless of everything, but found that I didn’t even seem to have the qualification to question. After all, I was the one who mentioned breaking up first back then. He was such a proud person, yet at that time he used almost every method and put down all his self-esteem to keep me. It was me who couldn’t stand the pressure and gave up on him. “I asked for you, he is still single.” Ethan’s single sentence successfully made me hold back my tears. “Huh?” Ethan looked at me with a smile, “He is my attending physician, coincidence, right?” I was stunned, and a little hope rose in my heart, “Did you ask him personally?” “That’s not it.” Ethan touched his chin, “I heard it from those nurses.” Ethan has always been popular with the opposite sex. He learned from those nurses that Caleb suddenly transferred from Boston a month ago, and the information submitted when he joined was unmarried. My chest was still stuffy, “But that pregnant woman just now…” I know Caleb, he disdains lying and won’t wrong himself. If it wasn’t a fact, the moment the pregnant woman called him hubby, he would definitely deny it. But he didn’t. Ethan looked at me and didn’t speak. He thought for a while and proposed a possibility, “Maybe it’s unmarried pregnancy?” At night, when Caleb came for rounds, my eyes were already swollen from crying. Don’t know if it was my illusion, I felt Caleb seemed to be slightly stunned. But soon, he withdrew his gaze, strode to Ethan’s side, and began a routine check. First, he asked about Ethan’s injury in a businesslike manner, then asked some routine questions, without looking at me again throughout the process. My hand in my pocket clenched, and my heart felt soaked in acid water. “What did you eat today? Has the frequency of headaches increased or decreased?” Caleb asked. Ethan answered unhurriedly, “Today I ate the porridge Holly made for me personally. Heard from her mom that she cooked it at home for three hours and almost hurt her finger when dealing with crabs. Even her ex-boyfriend didn’t get this treatment!” “Strange to say, after drinking Holly’s porridge, my head doesn’t seem to hurt anymore, tsk.” Caleb’s movement paused then, turning his head, he looked at me indifferently. 3 Clearly didn’t do anything wrong, but I felt inexplicably guilty, my body subconsciously retreating. In the past, Caleb spoiled me too much. When we were together, he did all the cooking, almost nothing for me to worry about. It can be said that my body, heart, and stomach were all tightly grasped by him. It was only in recent years that I learned to cook. Thinking of this, my eyes felt sour again. Then heard Ethan issuing an eviction order, “Since there are no problems, Dr. Rivers go back and rest early.” He stared straight at Caleb, saying lazily, “It’s inconvenient for you to stay longer.” I came back to my senses, glanced at him with a warning, but was directly ignored. Just about to speak, Caleb’s emotionless voice rang in my ear, “Oh?” I was stunned, my heart suddenly beating a bit fast. Ethan turned his head, raised his eyebrows at me extremely quickly, and then turned his gaze back to Caleb, “Not a big deal either. Just…” He smiled, slowly and meaningfully, “Haven’t showered for a few days, Holly said she would wipe my body.” Hearing this sentence, Caleb obviously paused. Just when I thought he would say something, or even do something, he stood up directly, picked up the medical record, and walked away crisply. I stood there in a daze. Unwilling to admit, but had to admit. Caleb seemed to really not care about me anymore… “Holly?” “I’m fine.” I stared dead at the floor, hands trembling slightly. Don’t know how long passed, a tissue was handed over from the side. It was Ethan. I looked up, meeting his bottomless eyes. He stared at me for a while before asking nonchalantly, “It’s been almost five years, still can’t let go?” I sniffled, without any hesitation, “Can’t let go.” Ethan was silent for a moment, still smiling and said, “You also sent me a love letter back then, how come you let go so quickly?” That embarrassing incident was suddenly mentioned, I was slightly stunned. Reacting, somewhat unable to laugh or cry, “That was how long ago. Besides, didn’t you reject me at that time, and said you only treated me as a sister.” Ethan looked at me, smiled lightly, didn’t speak. 4 Perhaps the atmosphere became a bit strange, I took the thermos and left the ward with an excuse. Closing the door, I received WeChat messages from my mom, several long voice messages. Between the lines, applying both soft and hard tactics. Roughly meaning I should take good care of Ethan and seize the opportunity. I leaned weakly against the cold wall outside the ward, somewhat dazed. Since divorcing my dad, my mom changed. She rarely smiled, became strong, irritable, and had a strong desire to control me, always afraid I would leave her like my dad. I haven’t even left the state since childhood, except for college. As for Ethan… From kindergarten to high school, childhood sweethearts for more than ten years, following behind him since childhood, how could I not be moved. But he didn’t like me. The year of graduation, I summoned up the courage to hand Ethan a love letter. He finished reading the letter word by word in silence, very seriously and frankly said to me, “Holly, I only treat you as a sister.” Ethan was born with a face that attracts peaches (romance), he has always been frivolous, lazy, and casual. Rejecting my confession was the most serious thing he had ever done to me. Later, Ethan told me he had a girl he liked very much, met during a physics competition, and he planned to follow her to study abroad. What did I feel at that time? Can’t remember clearly. Only remember Ethan sent me a text message before leaving, “I know you want to go to medical school in Boston, Holly, never disappoint your own life.” Then I changed my application behind my mom’s back and went to Boston. And thus met Caleb. When I inadvertently mentioned Caleb’s name to Ethan across the ocean countless times, not only Ethan but I also realized something. During that time, Ethan lost contact for a long time. When he messaged me again, I was already with Caleb. 5 That was the first night Caleb and I lived together, I happened to be on my period. Caleb held me on his lap, slender fingers gently and softly kneading my lower abdomen through a thin layer of clothing. When the pain eased a bit, he brought a bowl of hot porridge. I had bad intentions, hooking his little finger with mine, “I won’t eat without a reward.” Caleb was unmoved, but still couldn’t withstand my pestering, big palm holding the back of my head, gave me a very soul-hooking, fatal kiss. Stopping at the right point. Finally, he straightened me up, eyes full of spring, paralyzed in his arms smiling badly, face indifferent, but voice hoarse, “Porridge is getting cold, drink quickly.” Probably because I chased Caleb first back then, and he was always cold to me at that time, after being together I liked to tease him, provoke him. The more indifferent he was, the more I liked to see him lose control. Later when we really started having sex, Caleb began to know the taste, and the proactive, uncontrolled person became him… Ethan’s message was sent at that time. He said, “Holly, I’m coming back.” Facing Caleb’s obscure, slightly probing eyes, I was open and frank, “He is my neighbor, also my brother, known for more than twenty years.” Caleb barely believed me, but every time Ethan sent a message, he looked like facing a big enemy, wanting to pretend indifference but failing, really cute. Due to many factors, gradually, I stopped contacting Ethan. At that time, Caleb and I agreed to get the certificate upon graduation. But who knew, as soon as I graduated, something happened to my family. Relatives called me saying my mom was seriously ill. When I bought a ticket and rushed over, I found they united to lie to me. My mom never forgave me for changing my college application without permission. She hated me, hated me for disobeying her, hated me for escaping her control. Even, she never accepted Caleb from the bottom of her heart. “Holly, you want to study medicine, clearly you could go to college here at home. You want to get married, Ethan is a good kid.” “Everything Mom arranged for you is what suits you best!” During that time, my mom locked me at home, confiscated my phone, and forbade me to contact Caleb. Even used my phone to send some humiliating words to Caleb in my tone: “Why do you think I would marry into a family with a father addicted to gambling and a disabled mother?” “Do you really think Ethan is just my brother? You are just a spice for my boring college life.” When I discovered all this and wanted to find Caleb to explain regardless of everything, my mom completely exploded. She stood on the balcony, veins popping on her hand gripping the railing due to force. At that time she was emotionally out of control, crying and threatening me, if I didn’t break up with Caleb, she would jump down from the twelfth floor immediately. At that moment, I retreated. No matter how much I loved Caleb, I couldn’t watch my mom die. That night, Caleb stood downstairs, pale and much thinner. He seemed to have lost all pride, clearly received those hurtful text messages, clearly thought I loved someone else, yet still almost in a humble posture, carefully begging for reconciliation. However, facing my mom’s threat, I couldn’t even go downstairs to see him once.

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To get revenge on me, Lucas Reed often brought different women home to spend the night. On nights like these, I would always make various noises. Either coughing violently all night. Or getting up every few minutes to drink water. Always creating all kinds of noise. But this didn’t affect him at all. The master bedroom door was always tightly closed. He probably thought I was deliberately making these noises, hoping he would come to see me. Actually, it wasn’t. I was terminally ill, just physically uncomfortable. However, in his view, I was a born liar with endless schemes. Later, the hospital finally announced that I had one month left, time to arrange my affairs. That day. He was leaning against the headboard smoking. I gave him the divorce papers. He sneered, “Done with all your tricks, now using divorce to get my attention?” He wouldn’t divorce. The day his “white moonlight” (first love) went abroad. He said, since I wanted to marry him so much, he would fulfill my wish, but he would make me realize that the most regrettable thing in my life was marrying him. Indeed, I regretted it. But it was all too late. I gave him the other diagnosis report in my hand. “Let’s divorce. You don’t want to carry the title of a widower, do you?” He took the diagnosis report stating I had only one month left, and his hands instantly trembled. He stood up abruptly. “Samantha Jones, damn it, is this your way of fighting me?” He panicked. He forcibly dragged me downstairs and stuffed me into the car. “Cure her, I command you to cure her.” Was he feeling heartache? But all this was too late, too late. 1 Evening. I ate dinner alone. Went into the bathroom. Dawdled in the bathroom for over an hour before coming out wrapped in a bathrobe. Just now in the bathtub. I actually passed out. In front of the mirror, I tied the bathrobe and touched my sharp chin. Any thinner, and I would be unsightly. I came out of the bathroom. The main door opened. Lucas Reed brought a girl back. Eyes met. The girl was scared. “Mr. Reed, she is…” Lucas wrapped his arm around the girl’s waist expressionlessly, “Ignore her, go wait in my room…” The girl glanced at me and went obediently. Only Lucas and I were left in the living room. The air seemed to have settled. Inside the bathrobe, my hands clenched tightly. Lips trembling. “Couldn’t you take her somewhere else?” He leaned against the wine cabinet, a smile on his lips, “Somewhere else? You wouldn’t see it somewhere else, wouldn’t the effect of disgusting you be greatly discounted?” At that moment. My heart ached so much I could hardly breathe. “Whatever.” Finally, I just dropped this sentence, went back to my bedroom, and closed the door. Sounds came from the master bedroom. I covered my ears. But the noise still reached my ears. I dug out my headphones and put them on. Finally could block out those decadent sounds. But in this dark night. The pain seeping into my cells clamored. I curled up into a ball. When a rusty taste spread in my throat. I moved my lips away, a smear of bright red under the lamp. Covered in sweat, I crawled up and stumbled into the bathroom. That night, I didn’t know how long I gritted my teeth in the bathroom, enduring the pain. And how many decadent sounds I heard. The pain on my body eased a little. I crawled up to clean the bloodstains in the bathroom. At this moment, the sounds from the master bedroom stopped, and the door opened. Movement in the living room. Followed by the sound of a beer can opening. “Mr. Reed… do you have any medicine?” The girl’s voice was soft and mushy. After a while. I heard Lucas’s voice, “I’ll buy it for you.” My heart twitched. Wiping the bloodstains on the floor. When the bathroom door was pushed. I happened to turn on the tap to wash my hands. “Is there… someone inside?” The girl’s voice. I didn’t make a sound, turned on the light. “There really is someone.” The girl said resentfully. Lucas, “Medicine will be here soon, what’s wrong?” “I want to wash up, my body feels too sticky.” After a while. Someone leaned against the door. Then the door was knocked twice, bang bang. “Are you done yet? Jojo wants to shower.” I lowered my head, speeding up washing the bloodstains off my hands. Pulled open the door and came out. Walked past him who was still leaning against the door. The girl went into the bathroom. Only then did I turn my head and glance at him. The sweat stains on his body hadn’t dried yet. Holding a beer can in his hand. Why? Must he make me so embarrassed? The master bedroom clearly has a bathroom, but he insisted on bringing her out. He just looked at me like this. Was that gaze triumph, satisfaction, or mockery? I looked away. Got a glass of hot water and put it on the coffee table. Looked down and took out various medicine boxes from the drawer. Then poured out pills one by one. He leaned against the screen, looking at me with a sneer. I arranged the medicine and looked at him quietly. What kind of look was that? He thought I was moaning without illness again, pretending to have a serious illness to get his attention, right? His expression was, Samantha Jones, act all you want, I won’t fall for it. I smiled. Picked up the pills one by one, lifted the water glass, and fed them into my mouth. Finally, tidied up the counter. Walked past him and returned to the room. When I was first diagnosed with leukemia. The doctor asked the family to come. I called him, but he hung up. I carried the medicine back. Indeed had thoughts, didn’t put it in the bedroom. Instead, put it in the drawer in the living room. As long as he opened the drawer one day, he could discover that I had a terminal illness. But half a year passed. He actually didn’t discover it once. Let alone half a year. Even today when I took medicine in front of him, he thought I was acting. Closed the door. I suddenly wanted to laugh. Wonder if the day I die. Will he regret a little bit? His wife once took anti-leukemia medicine in front of him. But he thought it was a wonderful play, at least a play he didn’t fall for. 2 The next day. The girl left. He wasn’t home either. The nanny cooked and left. I drank two mouthfuls of porridge groggily. Got up and walked to the French window. A large patch of warm sunlight spilled here. I raised my fingertips and touched the glass. Seemed to want to touch the light outside. But couldn’t touch it. In college, my eyes were on Lucas Reed. And Lucas Reed’s eyes were on Faye. Faye and I once participated in the same group of campus activities. Also at that time. I found that Faye and I were completely opposite personalities. She didn’t like to express herself, but her self-esteem was particularly strong. Often because of a sentence. She would feel aggrieved and shed tears aside. Because I liked Lucas Reed, many people thought I deliberately bullied her. Starting from that year, my reputation became super bad. And the way Lucas looked at me became cold. The year of graduation. Faye chose to go abroad. Unfoundedly, many people rumored that I domineeringly drove Faye away. Before leaving, she just met me once and told me she was leaving. And, she took the initiative to find me. The day Faye went abroad. Lucas found me and said since I liked him so much, let’s get a marriage certificate. I was bewildered. At that time, I was still too young. Although I felt getting a certificate like this was a bit risky, I still felt I loved him enough and had the ability to make him fall in love with me. I went with him to get the certificate. And from then on, opened the door to his humiliation and revenge on me. I was really stupid at the time. Thinking he asked me to get a certificate, at least he liked me a little bit, right? Unexpectedly, it was all revenge. But what did I do wrong? I didn’t hurt Faye. I didn’t drive her away. But no one believed me. 3 At the beginning of the marriage. I tried hard to change his view. Washing hands to make soup. The arrangement of the home was also all arranged according to his preferences. He got angry. I wouldn’t quarrel with him either. Mrs. Reed was sick, and I also took care of her dutifully. No matter how late he came back from social engagements. I hadn’t slept yet, would cook the hangover soup and bring it to him. And prepare bath water for him. Also learned a set of massage techniques, massaging him when he had a headache. … But these never got a single good word from him. His face was always cold. He rarely touched me. Touching me was definitely rough, not gentle at all. To get his attention. Once when cutting fruit, I deliberately cut my finger. Showed it to him with red eyes. “Hubby, my hand is bleeding, it hurts so much.” But he smiled and pushed my finger away. “Deliberately cutting a slit, you really have means?” I had a fever. I ran to nest in his arms. “Hubby, my head is so hot, feel it.” He pushed me away and continued working. “If you’re sick, find a doctor, why find me?” Even once. I was bitten by his friend’s Tibetan Mastiff. He didn’t even come to help me up. Watching coldly with his friend aside. I limped to the hospital alone to get a vaccine. That day, I walked down from the mountain for a long, long time. It also rained heavily. Soaked all over. Walking, walking, I didn’t know if it was rain or tears flowing on my face. Finally, helplessly squatted down, covering my face. Also since then. I was no longer enthusiastic towards him. Most things at home, I no longer did myself, hired a cooking auntie. No matter how late his social engagements were, I didn’t wait for him anymore. Actively moved out of the master bedroom. Sleeping in the same room, he was also very domineering, always occupying a large area of the bed. Sometimes I woke up. Actually sleeping on the floor. His heart couldn’t be warmed. After the leg injury healed. I was silent for a while. Proposed divorce to him. I thought he would agree very readily. But unexpectedly, he tore up the agreement I handed over. He sneered, “Can’t stand it already? This is just the beginning.” A few days later. I heard from alumni that Faye seemed to have had an accident abroad. But what exactly happened wasn’t clear. For several days in a row, Lucas didn’t come back. And on this day, while pruning flowers and plants, I suddenly started having a nosebleed. Drop by drop, dripping on the flowers and plants. I looked up, but couldn’t stop this surge. The pliers in my hand fell abruptly. I thought of my mother who died from bleeding when I was young. I rushed to the hospital. After a series of checkups. I sat blankly on the chair. In the doctor’s office. The old doctor pushed his glasses frame, flipping through the sheets one by one, looking as solemn as earth. Finally just shook his head. On my diagnosis sheet, finally only five words were written, Acute Leukemia. “Leukemia, is there a difference between acute and chronic?” Facing my numb questioning, the old doctor sighed heavily, “Acute only has three months to a year, while chronic leukemia, some can live for about ten years.” Is that so? I looked down at the word acute on the sheet, hands trembling slightly. The sheet was soaked with water stains. I still have many things to do? Forget it. Do it in the next life if there is one. 4 When I returned home pinching the sheet. Lucas, who had disappeared for five days, was back. He sat on the sofa. I lowered my head, changing shoes. Was stunned by a pair of red high heels at the door. Looked up again. A girl came out of his bedroom. “Mr. Reed, earring caught in hair.” He put down his phone. “Come here.” The girl went over and sat next to him. He helped her gently tease the tangled hair strands. The posture of the two was also full of ambiguity. He looked up, looked over, a trace of interest hanging on his lips. After untangling, he pulled the girl into his arms, leaning against the sofa together. Only I, frozen in place like petrified. Just now, the doctor asked me to notify the family. I knew the call wouldn’t be answered. Still tried to dial. Sure enough, hung up by him after one ring. Turns out, he wasn’t busy at all. Just busy coaxing beauties. And this beauty, I looked over, side profile looked quite like Faye. I came back to my senses. Lowered my head and continued changing shoes. Went to the bedroom, closed the door. 5 That day. After Lucas left with the girl. I put the medicine in the drawer in the living room. Just wondering, what would be his reaction if he saw it one day. However, he never opened that drawer. On the contrary. Since that day. He often brought girls back. From bringing them back at first, to staying overnight at home later. Sometimes, didn’t even close the door. Their laughter and teasing sounds clearly reached my ears. I also knew what happened to Faye. She was cheated into marriage abroad, lost her body and heart, was beaten, and had a mental breakdown. The girls Lucas brought back all had similarities to Faye. He was taking revenge on me for Faye. But after once or twice. I became numb too. Mainly, I was counting days to live myself. Where could I still care about outside matters. Even this man I once loved to the bone, now, I seemed to be numb. However, I didn’t want the title of Mrs. Reed at all. I had to find a way to remove this title. 6 Within half an year. After bringing back twenty girls. Lucas stopped. He seemed tired of playing. And the days at home also increased. However, when I say increased, I just mean he might be home on a certain afternoon of the weekend. My body actually endured for six months. But, it should be about time. Now, even if I don’t move at home and do nothing, I look sickly. This day. There was sunlight outside. I wrapped myself in a thick sweater, wrapped myself like a zongzi (rice dumpling), shrinking at the foot of the sofa, closer to natural light. Since getting sick, I often broke out in cold sweats and felt cold. His bedroom door opened abruptly, and he came out. He walked two steps, stopped abruptly in the living room, and looked at me. I felt the gaze and glanced at him. He stood there tall and long, with suspicion in his eyes. He opened his lips, “It’s so hot, why are you wrapped up so much?” He seemed not to have spoken to me for a long time. I was in a trance for a moment. I replied, “Because it’s cold, why else?” His brow furrowed. “Cold?” I nodded. His face, impeccable from three hundred and sixty degrees, was now clouded over. He turned back and sat down on another sofa, seeming to look at me seriously. Rare, he should haven’t looked at me seriously for a very, very long time. “I heard from the auntie that your appetite is very small now, can’t even eat half a small bowl?” I wrapped the shawl tighter and looked at him. “You care about me?” Eyes met. His expression was still dignified. Maybe my thin and pale face was really worrying to look at. However, my body got worse and worse under his nose. He never suspected if I was seriously ill. Just when I had a little expectation. He got up, slender fingers taking the car key. “Go to the hospital if you are sick. Don’t think not eating and making yourself look like this will provoke heartache. Some people are not worth heartache in a lifetime.” Expectation dashed again. I sneered. He, walking to the hallway, turned his head. Seemed uncomfortable with my sneer. But I no longer looked at him. Turned my head to look at the sunlight outside. He seemed to pause for a while. But in the end, the door slammed shut with a bang.

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My daughter was barely hanging on, recovering from a brutal car accident, when my best friend, Jenna, showed up with a special delivery—a scrawny, old mother hen, flown in from some remote farm. “It’s a true heirloom, Eliza, an organic free-range bird,” Jenna insisted, placing the struggling, feathered weight in my arms. “The broth will work miracles on Carol’s broken bones.” Then came the sinister caveat, the thing that would haunt my every waking minute for two lifetimes. “This one’s a real fighter, tough as nails. Remember, before you put it in the pot, you have to kill it—and I mean kill it—multiple times. Make sure it’s completely gone.” I’m the kind of woman who flinches at a housefly. I’ve never even squashed a cockroach. But for Carol, fueled by a terrifying maternal necessity, I took a knife and the bird to the small, sterile hospital kitchen. I twisted the scrawny neck with a sickening, wet snap. But Jenna’s words kept ringing in my ears. Kill it multiple times. Trembling, I plunged the knife into the bird again and again, until the counter was slick with dark, visceral blood. When I carried the steaming thermos of broth back to Carol’s room, the horror waited for me. My daughter’s small body lay under the sheets, but when I pulled the blanket back, there was no Carol. Only a torso riddled with deep, jagged holes, a mess of blood and viscera. And no head. Jenna shrieked, a sound that felt more performative than genuine, tearing the lid off the thermos I carried. It wasn’t rich, golden chicken soup. It was a container full of thick, congealed blood, and floating on top was the mangled, barely recognizable face of my daughter. “Eliza Rourke,” Jenna wailed, clutching the bloody container. “I told you to kill the chicken, not your own child!” My husband, Gavin Brooks, burst in moments later. His eyes, usually cool and calculating, were red with a rage that eclipsed my own paralyzing shock. He didn’t ask. He didn’t hesitate. Gavin’s hand swung out, a violent slap that cracked across my cheek, sending me stumbling back against the sterile wall. “She was just being a rebellious teenager, Eliza! You had an argument! And you decided to butcher her? You’re not a mother, you’re a monster! A psychotic animal!” I saw my reflection in the dark, anti-glare glass of the window: a blood-soaked woman, eyes wide, mouth agape. And tucked beneath the fingernails of my right hand was a bright, shocking crimson—the remnants of the red hair dye Carol had fought me to keep. But I knew what I had killed. I had killed the hen. How could the victim have been my own flesh and blood? The sheer impossibility of it drove me forward. I had to prove my sanity. Despite Gavin’s fists and my shattered disbelief, I crawled my way to the police station. I needed the truth to wash the horror away. They showed me the hospital surveillance footage. I watched myself, Eliza Rourke, my face contorted in a cold, unnatural smile. I watched my own hands, strong and merciless, twist my daughter’s neck until the sound was audible even through the muted recording. I watched myself, my own hands, dismember her body and then casually clean up the worst of the mess before walking out. I was taken away, convicted of murder, and sentenced to death. And then, I opened my eyes. I was back. Back to the day Jenna brought the chicken. 1 “This one’s a tough bird, a real scrapper. Hard to kill, so you make sure you stab it good, Eliza. Make absolutely sure it’s dead.” Jenna Davies pushed the struggling, flapping hen into my hands. The sudden weight, the feel of the rough feathers, made my body seize up in a full-blown tremor. Looking at Jenna’s sickeningly earnest expression, the truth hit me: I was back. I had been given a second chance. The images—the blood-soaked glass, Gavin’s furious eyes, the headless corpse—flashed in a dizzying loop behind my eyes. I shoved the bird back, my voice laced with a raw, desperate fear. “No! I can’t. I don’t kill things, Jenna. Take the damn chicken and get it out of here!” Last time, I had accepted her gesture. I had been a grateful, naive idiot, desperate to nurse my daughter back to health. The maternal instinct had overridden my entire life’s aversion to violence. I’d snapped the bird’s neck, and remembering Jenna’s insistent warnings, I’d stabbed it repeatedly, just to be sure. But when I’d returned, the girl who loved to tease and torment her mother had been hidden under the blanket. When I’d pulled it back, all that remained was a faceless, mutilated corpse. Jenna’s screams—“Eliza! You killed your own daughter!”—and the sight of Carol’s head in the thermos. Even the ladle of “soup” I held had been a ladle of crimson blood. I killed a chicken. How had my daughter been the one to die? Gavin had kicked me to the floor, his voice echoing with righteous fury. “She was just having a moody teenage moment! You butchered her and dismembered the body to cover your tracks! You’re worse than an animal!” Lying there, broken on the cold linoleum, I’d seen the reflection. My bloodied face, Carol’s red hair in my nails. The evidence was irrefutable, yet my memory screamed a different truth. I’d crawled to the police, determined to prove my innocence, only to be faced with the undeniable footage of my own descent into madness and murder. A death sentence. Now, I was back. I would not accept the beginning of the nightmare. “Honestly, Jenna, just take it to the diner downstairs and have them process it. I simply can’t bring myself to do it. I’m not taking the chicken.” The refusal was too rational, the fear too palpable. Jenna had no choice but to awkwardly pull the bird back into her arms. I thought I was safe. I thought I had broken the chain of events. But then, Gavin stepped out of the room, his face a mask of cold fury. “Are you serious, Eliza? Your daughter is lying there with a shattered leg, and you won’t even kill a chicken for her? What kind of mother are you? Just because she was in a moody phase and you had a fight last week, you’re going to neglect her now? Every kid messes up! No other mother is this cruel!” Carol, my little girl, peeked around the door, her face pale, eyes wide and pitiful. “Mommy, don’t be mad at me. I know I was wrong. Will you please make me the chicken soup? I’ll know you’ve forgiven me then…” I wavered. The love, the absolute, non-negotiable love for my daughter, always won. Jenna seized the moment, pushing the chicken and a butcher knife into my grasp. “Go on, Eliza. Kill the bird and make the soup. I’ll keep an eye on Carol for you.” 2 I stumbled into the small, sterile hospital kitchen reserved for families, heart pounding, gaze fixed on the corner where the security camera was mounted. The footage from my past life was a horror movie I couldn’t stop watching. Why did I think I killed a chicken when I had clearly murdered my daughter? How could I not recognize my own child? I had to test it. I pressed the hen onto the cutting board. With a shaking hand, I lifted the knife and made a shallow, bloody cut along the bird’s foot, barely drawing blood. At the exact same instant, the chicken’s wild, panicked squawk was perfectly overlaid with a sharp, agonizing cry from the hallway. I dropped the knife and bolted. It’s real. It’s happening again. I threw open Carol’s door, convinced I would find her foot severed, but she was curled on the bed, her small face contorted in pain. I scrambled toward her, checking her feet, her legs. I inspected every inch. No blood. No new cuts. She was intact. Carol blinked, her eyes hazy with confusion. “What is it, Mom? I just tried to shift down and I hit the railing on my broken leg. It hurt so much I couldn’t stop myself from screaming. Did I worry you?” I froze, my body rigid with shock. I forced a brittle smile, shaking my head. No. It was just a coincidence. I’m cracking up. I’m so stressed I’m having a psychotic break. The notion of a supernatural link, of a voodoo connection between a hen and my child, was too much for my rational mind. Everything I remembered, the arrest, the trial, the death—it must have been a terrifying, hyper-realistic nightmare brought on by fear and exhaustion. Jenna was my oldest friend; she wouldn’t hurt me. Jenna stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay, Eliza. Your sweet girl is safe here with me. You can trust me to watch her. Go on, make the soup. Just make sure you kill that tough old bird properly. Maybe I should come with you, just to be sure.” I nodded, utterly exhausted. Get rid of the paranoia. Focus on the living. I turned to leave, but Jenna suddenly bolted back into the room, her eyes wide with a manic terror that belied her previous composure. “Eliza! The chicken! Where is it? It’s gone!” I frowned, confused by her extreme reaction. Yes, those free-range birds are expensive and hard to find, but it wasn’t a national treasure. The truth was, the disappearance suited me perfectly. It was the easiest way out of this deadly obligation. “It ran off, Jenna, who cares? I’ll go to the market later and buy a replacement. I’d rather spend time with Carol right now.” I sat on the bed and reached for my daughter’s hand, which was close, almost touching mine. But my fingers grasped only the cold linen of the hospital sheet. I snapped my head up. Carol was gone. She had been right there, a moment ago. The exact moment Jenna declared the chicken was missing, my daughter had vanished into thin air. 3 “Jenna! Where is Carol? Did you see her? She was right behind me, how could she just disappear?” I grabbed her shoulders and shook, the frenzy I had been fighting finally taking hold. Jenna seemed equally distraught, tears welling in her eyes. “I’ll help you search! We have to find it immediately! Hurry!” We ran out, my voice echoing down the sterile corridors of the wing, screaming my daughter’s name. Carol! Carol Brooks! I checked the ER, the morgue, even the dimly lit path to the staff parking lot. Nothing. But then I saw Jenna, ostensibly searching with me, now on her knees by a small patch of hospital landscaping. She wasn’t checking under benches or behind doors. She was rifling through the dense shrubbery, her movements more focused, more desperate than they should have been. It looked like she was searching for a missing animal. My mind went cold. I had to know. I yanked her up by the sleeve. “Jenna Davies, stop! What does that bird have to do with my daughter’s disappearance? Tell me what that chicken is! What did you bring here?” Jenna flinched, pulling her collar up to cover her neck. “It’s… the chicken…” she stammered, avoiding my eyes. Tears of pure, agonizing panic spilled down my face. Before I could press her further, a large hand clamped down hard on my shoulder and yanked me backward. “Eliza, what in God’s name is wrong with you? Stop the dramatics! You’re supposed to be making your daughter’s soup, not screaming in the hallway!” It was Gavin. And in his other hand, dangling upside down, was the missing hen. The sheer shock short-circuited my brain. I whirled around, grabbing his shirt. “Did you see Carol? She’s gone! She just evaporated!” Gavin scowled, his confusion seemingly genuine. “Carol? She’s been in the room the whole time. She said you ran out like a maniac, raving about a chicken, and she asked me to check on you.” I looked up. In the window of the hospital room, my daughter stood, small and whole, smiling and waving. “Mommy…” she called out, her voice a little, sweet lilt. “Why haven’t you made the soup yet?” It was like a bucket of icy water had been thrown over me. I was shaking, unable to reconcile the terror with the immediate, mundane reality. Jenna’s hand came back to my shoulder, her touch now soft. “Eliza, that chicken… it’s not ordinary. It’s a very rare breed—a game bird. I was afraid someone would see it and report us for poaching. I was worried we’d get into trouble, not that I wasn’t worried about Carol.” She looked so sincere that my suspicion felt small and mean. I managed a strained smile, trying to push the madness aside. But I had to be sure. I turned to Gavin, my voice dropping into a register I hadn’t used in years—a low, slightly manipulative purr. “Honey, you know I’m a mess with blood and feathers. I want Carol to have this soup, but I just can’t do it. Could you please kill the chicken and pluck it for me? I’ll take it from there and make the stock.” Gavin stared at me, his ears turning slightly red, surprised by the sudden, rare display of vulnerability. Then, he simply nodded. “Fine. Whatever. It’s just killing a chicken. Wait here, I’ll call you when I’m done.” 4 I didn’t follow them to the kitchen. I rushed back to Carol. Seeing her safe, whole, and nestled in bed brought an overwhelming surge of relief that broke the dam of my fear. My voice was thick with emotion. “Sweetheart, where were you? I was terrified! Jenna and I searched everywhere, why didn’t you answer?” Carol gave a quick, brittle laugh, snuggling into my chest. “I was just playing peek-a-boo with you, Mom. I was hiding right here. I didn’t realize you would panic so much.” I didn’t argue. But my heart was sinking. The room was tiny. There was nowhere to hide. She was either lying or she was a victim herself, just as confused as I was. Either way, I would not let her out of my sight. In the distance, I saw Gavin by the utility sink, the knife raised. I’d specifically told him to start with the chicken’s legs—to be cautious—just in case a swift beheading triggered the disaster I remembered. A shrill, agonizing squawk from the chicken. Both its legs were severed. Carol flinched in my arms, but nothing else happened. No blood, no fresh wound. I watched, breath held tight, as Gavin completed the grisly task, dismembering the bird and dropping the pieces into the pot. Carol remained perfectly intact. My panic eased. The spell was broken. It had been a nightmare. Gavin beckoned me over to the simmering pot. I gently tucked a drowsy Carol into bed, kissed her forehead, and locked the door from the outside, just in case. I seasoned the stock quickly. Ten minutes, tops. I poured a ladle of the rich, aromatic broth into a bowl and carried it back, a small victory clutched in my hand. The door was still locked. I breathed a sigh of absolute relief. But when I turned the key and walked in, the air went cold, and the victory turned to ash. The bed was soaked in a tidal wave of fresh, arterial blood. Carol’s remains—limbs, organs, entrails—were scattered on the floor in a grotesque, dismembered tableau. I dropped the bowl. The golden chicken soup splashed onto the floor, but as it spread, it miraculously transformed into a puddle of steaming, crimson blood. Jenna’s scream, identical to the last life, pierced the air. “Eliza! What did you do to your daughter now?!” I staggered backward, shaking my head violently. “No! I didn’t do it! I was only gone for a moment! She can’t be dead!” Gavin rushed in, his face turning ashen, his voice a choked sob. “You psycho! She was playing hide-and-seek! And you killed her for it? Jenna and I were out processing the chicken! Only you were here! It has to be you! The police are coming, Eliza, you’re not escaping this time!” The police arrived with unnerving speed. They barely glanced at the scene, their eyes fixed on me, my bloody hands, my horrified face. “The killer often returns to the scene,” one officer said, his voice cold and definitive. “Eliza Rourke, you’re coming with us.” I fought them, screamed, pleaded for someone to listen. I was only gone for twenty minutes! But as they dragged me away, my eyes fell on my fingernails. Again. Under the edge of the manicure: a small, tell-tale streak of Carol’s bright red hair dye. I went suddenly, horribly still. A slow, horrifying smile spread across my face. I started to laugh, a hysterical, wrenching sound that was part sob, part madness. “Of course,” I whispered to the empty room. “I see it now. You thought I was stupid, didn’t you?” The truth, the simple, devastating answer to the nightmare that had plagued two lifetimes, had been right in front of my eyes the whole time.

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