Category: English

I was born deaf. It’s a silence so complete, it feels like time itself has stopped. My family thought I was just a quiet, well-behaved baby. It took them years to realize I wasn’t responding because I couldn’t hear. Everyone told my mother to give up. “Send her to a state home. It’ll be easier. You can have another.” My own father gave her an ultimatum: “It’s me or the ‘broken’ kid.” Mom didn’t even cry. She just packed our bags and we left. She worked two jobs, taking me with her, and spent her nights teaching herself sign language so she could teach me. I remember her, exhausted, her hand on my throat, mouthing words over and over, trying to teach me how to feel the shape of sound. When I was six, she had finally saved enough for my first hearing aids. That was the first time I heard the rain. It was also when I discovered my “gift.” When I wear my aids, I hear the world. When I take them out, the world goes silent… but I can hear thoughts. From that day on, I almost never took the aids out. Knowing what people really think—it’s not a gift. It’s a curse. 2 There were times, when she was so tired she could barely stand, that my mom thought about leaving. She thought about walking out the door and never coming back. I knew. I’d just tug on her shirt and sign, You won’t leave? She’d burst into tears and hug me, and I’d listen to her thoughts. I love you. I will never leave you. School was hard. Teachers were kind, but kids were cruel. “Deaf-mute.” “Freak.” I never, ever took my hearing aids out at school. I was terrified of what I’d hear. I hated the world’s noise, but I hated its silence even more. So I just… disappeared. I was the quiet girl in the back row. Excellent grades, zero friends. I got my mom’s looks. Not “bombshell,” but “pretty.” Boys would sometimes leave notes in my locker. When I’d politely decline, they’d get mean. “What, you think you’re too good for me? You’re a deafie. I was just being nice.” You learn to ignore it. Their words were never as ugly as their thoughts. Mom opened a small diner, The Dumpling Nook. I’d help out on weekends, clearing tables and running the register. Mom wanted me to stay home and study, but I wanted to help. One day, a group of kids from my class came in. Mom was so happy she comped their meal. The next day, the rumors started. How I was “trailer trash.” The jocks would “borrow” my homework. It always came back stained or torn. My teachers would ask if everything was okay. I’d just nod. I didn’t want to make things harder for my mom. It got worse. Then, I was “asked out” by Ethan Crowe. The school “god.” I was stunned. I had nothing he could possibly want. I said no. I expected him to be cruel. Instead, he just smiled, a flash of perfect white teeth, and ruffled my hair. “That’s okay, Ava. I’ll wait. You’ll come around.” He walked away, his white shirt bright in the sun. That image stuck with me. Of course, the entire school lost its mind. I got a new nickname: “The Girl Who Shot Down Ethan.” I started noticing him. He wasn’t just popular; he was brilliant. On the academic rankings, he was always right behind me. Number two. He was the debate team captain, the class president, the star quarterback. He was everything. Our school put up a “Wall of Scholars” for national competition winners. My photo went up for winning the National Essay Contest. Right next to it was a photo of Ethan, holding a debate trophy, his smile so bright it hurt. The next day, there was a letter in my locker. His name was on the envelope. I waited until I was home to read it. Ava, I read your essay. It was incredible. I feel like you’re the only other person here who’s actually thinking. My asking you out was… clumsy. I apologize. Can we just be friends? If yes, just leave this note in your desk. I’ll find it. —Ethan I shouldn’t have. I should have thrown it away. But… I was lonely. I wrote back: Friends. Let’s both ace the midterms. I tucked my reply into my copy of The Bell Jar and left it in my desk. The next morning, the book was gone. In its place was a tiny stuffed bear. Our “friendship” became a secret. We’d pass in the halls, and he’d give me a small, private smile. That was it. I was grateful. A month later, he texted. I’m drowning in calculus. Meet me at the library on Saturday? Please? It was off-campus. It felt… safe. I said yes. I was nervous. I spent an hour picking out an outfit. He was already there. He was so easy to talk to. I recommended a few prep books I was using. He bought them, and then he bought me a coffee, and we just… talked. Until the sun started to set. I got home that night, and my skin started to itch. By morning, I was covered in hives. I’m deathly allergic to mango. I retraced every step. The only thing I hadn’t prepared myself was the coffee… the one he’d bought me. I missed the state math competition. Ethan showed up at the hospital a few days later with flowers. “Ava! I heard you were sick! Are you okay?” His smile was so warm, so concerned. I pulled out my right hearing aid. The world went silent. 【God, this is boring. I wish she’d stay in here longer.】 I fumbled with the aid, pretending to adjust it. 【She had to have told me she was allergic to mango. I remember it. Thank God it worked.】 …It worked? 【She’s so annoying. This ‘little deaf girl’ act is so old. If she’d just fall for me, I wouldn’t have to pull this crap.】 I put the aid back in. My hands were shaking. “The doctor said…” His voice was smooth as silk. “I… I think I must have eaten something with mango in it. At the diner. I’m so stupid. I ruined everything. I’m so sorry I missed the competition.” He looked genuinely devastated. 【She’s buying it. Perfect. Now I just need to keep her out of the running for the AP Scholar prize.】 I handed him the bottle of water from my nightstand. I made sure he saw the red, swollen rash on my hand. He flinched, just for a second. “It’s okay,” I said, my voice soft. “It was an accident. I should have been more careful. I feel like I let you down. You were cheering for me.” He relaxed, taking the water. “Next time, Ava. We’ll be 1 and 2.” I smiled. Oh, Ethan. You’re not even in my league. “Actually,” I said, “I was organizing my study notes before… this. I can give you a copy when I get out. To thank you for the flowers.” His eyes lit up. 【Her notes? It’s over. I’ve won.】 When an enemy reveals his weakness, the game is yours to control. I gave him my notes. All of them. And they were all correct. It’s just… I gave him the long, convoluted, time-wasting formulas. The ones that take ten minutes when a simpler one takes two. The test is about speed, after all. I’m not a “good” girl. I’m a survivor. He touched my future. He was lucky I was only going for his GPA. Ethan, ecstatic, told me he’d placed second in the math competition. (A new kid, Liam, had taken first.) He was convinced my notes would help him “clinch the top spot” next time. I just smiled. “I know you can do it.” 3 Someone posted a photo of us at the library. The rumors went nuclear. My teachers pulled me aside. I promised them Ethan and I were “just study partners.” They let it go. My grades were my shield. But the whispers… I took out my aids for just a second. 【Look at her. Total user. Playing the deaf card to get the top jock to pity her.】 【I heard she’s faking the deaf thing. She’s just a manipulative bitch.】 I put the aid back in, my head pounding. That afternoon, I was cornered in the bathroom. It was Maya, the “queen bee” of the school. She took a long drag from her vape and blew the smoke in my face. I coughed, my eyes watering. “Heads up, scholarship,” she said, flicking an ash. “Ethan Crowe? He’s not ‘nice.’ He’s a snake. Don’t be an idiot.” She just… left. Ethan, meanwhile, doubled down. He started sitting with me at lunch. In front of everyone. “She’s such a slut. Leading him on.” “She’s probably just after his money.” I tried to ignore it, my hands shaking so hard I couldn’t hold my fork. I took a deep breath. I picked up my unopened orange juice and slid it across the table to him. “Ethan,” I said, loud enough for the tables nearby to hear, “I can’t get this open. Can you help me?” It was the first time I’d ever publicly acknowledged him. He was stunned. Then he smiled, popping the seal and handing it back. You’re the one who started this, I thought. Why should I be the only one to pay for it?

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My sister is… intense. She’s got a bit of a thing for her little brother. When I was ten, we were almost kidnapped. I shoved her out of the way and they took me instead. By the time I was ransomed, my face was ruined and my legs were broken. That’s when Victoria truly took over the family business. I became the one thing in her life she truly loved, and her one trigger for absolute, psychopathic rage. Some kid in her orbit laughed at my scars and called me a freak. Victoria had his head shoved into a duffel bag full of rats. He didn’t have much of a face left. Someone else whispered I was a cripple. She had him put through a car compactor. Victoria is the queenpin of this city, a woman who makes grown men tremble. But she spoils me rotten. She poured a fortune into sending me to Switzerland—the best surgeons in the world to rebuild my face and fix my legs, followed by a quiet university education. Before I flew home, I got an invitation. She was engaged. You’re finally going to have a brother-in-law to spoil you, too, she texted, sending a picture of the guy. But the moment I stepped into the villa she’d bought for me, the door crashed open, and her fiancé burst in with a crew of thugs. He thought I was her secret sugar baby. He pointed at me, his voice cracking with tears. “Victoria’s coming,” he sobbed to his men, “and when she gets here, she’s going to see what I do to the ‘competition’.” Then he looked at me, his eyes full of hate. “Tell me,” he sneered, “what makes you so special?” “Bang!” The glass of the patio door exploded inward. A dozen men in black suits stormed into the living room. I recognized the man in the lead: Chaz. The guy from my sister’s photo. Before I could even say “congratulations,” he swung a metal golf club straight at my face. A sickening crunch. Pain exploded in my nose as warm blood gushed down my chin. I stumbled back, disoriented. “You little boy-toy! Finally caught you!” Chaz screamed, his face purple with rage. “Thought you could just hide out in Europe forever, huh? Sucking my fiancée dry?” He swung again, a vicious blow to my side that cracked a rib and sent me sprawling to the floor. I tried to shield my head. “You’ve got it wrong,” I gasped. “I’m…” Chaz jammed the head of the golf club into my mouth, chipping a tooth. The metallic tang of blood filled my throat. “I’ve got it wrong? You think I’m stupid? You think I don’t know Victoria bought you this mansion?” “You heard we were engaged, so you came crawling back, didn’t you? Try to worm your way in, or at least keep the money flowing!” “Today, you learn what happens to parasites!” He kicked me, hard, rolling me over. My head slammed against the marble coffee table. I was getting angry now. “You’re wrong! I’m Victoria’s brother! I’m Leo!” “She sent me an invitation to the wedding… she…” Chaz paused. One of his men leaned in. “Boss, I have heard she has a twin brother. Leo. Been in Switzerland for years.” Chaz glanced at my face. “Twin? He looks nothing like her.” Just then, another man walked in. Scar on his face. My sister’s right-hand man. Blade. He’d know me! He’d been with our family forever. “Blade! It’s me! Leo!” I yelled, my voice thick with blood. Blade stared. “Who the hell is this? And how does he know my name?” Chaz swung the club again, this time shattering my jaw. I screamed, but no sound came out. “He’s the sugar baby I told you about,” Chaz said. “He must have overheard your name.” Blade shook his head. “No… he said he was Leo. That’s the young master’s name. No one outside the family knows that.” He stalked over and grabbed my face, turning it to the light. “Doesn’t look like him.” My heart sank. He hadn’t seen me since the surgeries. “Wait,” Blade said. “He was sent away for surgery. Is your face… new?” I nodded frantically. Yes! It’s me! Chaz scoffed. “A kept-man who lives off his looks? Of course he’s had plastic surgery.” Blade held up a hand. “Face can be faked. ID can’t. Search him.” Two men pinned me down. I struggled, and Chaz backhanded me across my broken face. “Tie him up.” I was bound and humiliated as they rifled through my pockets. Blade looked nervous. “Chaz, what if he’s telling the truth? If this is really him…” Chaz just lit a cigarette. “So what? I’m engaged to Victoria. I’m family. She’ll forgive me for being a little rough. It just shows how much I love her, right?” Blade nodded. “Right.” They found my wallet. Chaz yanked it out, flipped it open, and burst out laughing. “See? I told you. Fucking liar.” Blade read the ID. “Name… Chris Chen.” He read my university ID. “Jack Chen. This is a fake. The young master’s name is Leo. And he’s in Switzerland, not England.” My blood ran cold. After the kidnapping, Victoria had moved my identity to our mother’s maiden name. She’d told everyone I was in Switzerland as a decoy, but secretly sent me to London for school. All to protect me. Victoria, your paranoia is going to get me killed. Blade’s eyes turned to ice. “You dare impersonate the young master? Beat him.” They descended on me. My phone, which had been in my jacket pocket, clattered to the floor. The screen lit up. Blade saw my lock screen and froze. “Wait.” It was a photo of me and Victoria, last Christmas in the Alps. He picked it up. “This… this is your phone?” I nodded, hope surging. Chaz sneered. “Blade, come on. It’s called Photoshop.” I grunted, trying to get him to unlock it. He understood, and held the phone up to my swollen face. It clicked open. He saw my texts. “He… he has her listed as ‘Sister’,” Blade whispered. Chaz snatched the phone. “That’s what all these gold-digging freaks do! ‘Sister,’ ‘Mommy,’ ‘Daddy’…” He scrolled up, his face turning purple. “She… she calls you ‘my baby’? She says she ‘can’t wait to live with you’?” I wanted to explain. I was her only family. Of course she missed me. Chaz was shaking. Blade looked at me, then at the phone, then at me. “He… he does have the young master’s eyes. Always looked like he was about to cry, even when he was happy. Boss, I’m telling you, this might be him. If we’re wrong…” Chaz nodded, suddenly calm. “You’re right. I’ll just… I’ll just call her.” “If he’s her brother, I’ll apologize. But if he’s not…” He looked at me, his eyes dead. “I’ll make him pray for what Blade’s men are about to do to him.” He had his men gag me and dialed. “Hey, babe! I was just thinking… you said your brother was coming home for the engagement. What day does he get in? I want to get him a gift.” Her voice, happy and clear, came through the speaker. “Oh, that’s so sweet! He lands tomorrow night.” My heart stopped. I’d changed my flight to today. To surprise her. Chaz’s eyes met mine. They were full of triumphant hatred. He was going to hang up. I bit down. Hard. The man holding my mouth roared and let go. “SISTER, HELP ME!” I screamed, pouring every ounce of strength I had into it.

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1 My long-distance boyfriend of several years went bankrupt. “Faye, they took my mother’s house.” Mark’s voice was a fragile, lost thing over the phone. I hung up without another word. That same night, I landed in Port Sterling with everything I owned. I found him, and together, we leased a small stall in the local fish market. “Don’t worry,” I told him, my voice steady. “I’ll buy it back for you.” Three years of my hands, perpetually raw and steeped in the stench of fish, earned us two million dollars in scattered bills. The day I went to deposit the money, a guy next to me at the bank was scrolling through a livestream on his phone, the volume cranked way up. “Mark, my man, you coming back or what?” “What’s the rush? I’m not done playing with my little Fish Girl yet.” He must have left in a hurry. The phone, still streaming live, was propped up on the cutting board. … I recognized the voice in a heartbeat. It was Mark. That voice was a part of me. It had once traveled as a whisper across oceans, soothing me when my mentor’s critiques had brought me to tears. It had been a rough, breathless gasp in my ear, murmuring my name in the dark. But now, the words he was speaking felt like a foreign language. The sound from the phone was just too loud, a relentless, jarring noise that drilled into my ears. A buzzing started in my eardrums and spread, a tremor that seized my entire body until I was shaking uncontrollably. I turned my head, my movements stiff, robotic. Through a blur of unshed tears, I saw the monotonous image on the screen. A yellow rubber hose lay draped over the wooden cutting board, water streaming from it in a ceaseless flow. A sharp filleting knife was stuck into the wood, its blade glinting with blood-streaked scales. I had stood in that exact spot for three years. The voices from the livestream continued, oblivious. “Hahaha, you’ve really got it made, Mark. By the way, where’s the Fish Girl? She’s usually glued to this place. Did the sun rise in the west today?” “I told her the rent was going up. She’s probably at the bank right now, scraping together the deposit.” The crisp, expensive flick of a Zippo lighter crackled through the speaker. Someone was lighting a cigarette. “Seriously? You own this whole damn street. The fact that you’re personally shaking her down for rent… you’re giving her way too much credit.” “What can I say? The girl’s a machine when it comes to making money. I told her we’d get married as soon as we bought the house, and she started selling fish like her life depended on it. If I didn’t raise the rent, I’d be losing out on my own investment, wouldn’t I?” The two of them laughed for a moment. I heard a sound like a hand slapping a shoulder. “Alright, man, stop chatting with me. Your darling Chloe is waiting for you at the coffee shop. Here, take this necklace. You can’t show up empty-handed every time, that’s just rude. Oh, and don’t forget to transfer me the money for it later. It’s over a hundred grand.” “Yeah, I’ll wire it.” The unique, staccato rhythm of Mark’s typing on his phone danced a cruel rhythm on my shattering heart. “Whoa, Mark, you serious? You sent me two hundred thousand?” “Yeah, it’s nothing. Pocket change. Go have fun. I’m heading out, watch the stall for me.” The sound of rustling cash, crisp and fast, was amplified by the teller’s microphone behind the glass. It was everything I had earned. Three years of my life, without a single day off. Just enough to cover a necklace Mark casually bought for another girl. The heavy plastic curtain at the stall’s entrance flapped open and shut. Just as Mark was leaving, the other man spoke again, his tone suddenly probing. “Hey, Mark. It’s been three years. Are you really just messing with her?” The flapping of the curtain paused. In two different places, Mark and I held our breath in shared silence. Finally, I heard his voice, light and dismissive. “Of course. You think I’d actually marry a fishmonger?” As the last word fell, my world, which had been held together by the quietest of hopes, didn’t just crack. It imploded. In an instant, all the strength drained from my body. I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t make a sound. All that was left was a broken heart, uselessly pumping pain through my veins. The screen suddenly went dark. The guy next to me cursed. “What the hell?” What the hell. No four words could have described me better. For a single, pathetic plea from Mark, I had thrown away the Golden Cleaver, the symbol of my craft and honor. I had flown across the world, a fool on a mission to save my fallen hero. And now, in a place where he couldn’t see me, he had sentenced me to death with a single sentence. A fishmonger. If my mentor heard someone call me that, he’d probably use his eighteen signature knife techniques to turn them into a gourmet feast. But I had abandoned his protection, and for what? To happily take on that title. Stupid. So incredibly stupid. “Ma’am? The money has been counted. Are you sure you want to transfer twenty thousand to this account?” the teller asked. I blinked, reality crashing back in. “No. No transfer. Thank you.” I wasn’t renting this stall anymore. And I didn’t want Mark anymore. The bank card in my hand felt impossibly heavy, a dead weight of a thousand days and nights of my own foolishness. Two million dollars. The price of my blind, idiotic devotion. I didn’t go back to the stall. I went to the shabby apartment we rented. I started to pack. Looking around, I realized there was almost nothing worth taking. The matching bracelets Mark had bought me for $1.99, shipping included. The buy-one-get-one-free boxes of breakfast pastries that cost $13.99. A ring he’d twisted for me out of a paper napkin. My collection of foul-smelling rubber boots in various colors. I pulled open the nightstand drawer. It was filled with boxes of condoms. Opened ones, empty ones. When we first opened the stall, business was slow. We had sunk every last penny into it. We were so, so poor. I never thought I’d live like that. We’d make a single bagel last for three meals. Cream cheese in the morning, half the bagel for lunch, the other half for dinner. I used to cry all the time. I cried when I was hungry. I cried when we didn’t make enough money. And every time I cried, Mark would pull me into bed. “Hey, my little crybaby,” he’d murmur. “Let’s do something to take your mind off it.” Surrendering to that raw, primal instinct was a drug, a way to numb the nerves. The 99-cent condoms were cheap and unreliable; they’d tear if we were too rough, or if the angle was wrong. In the midst of crushing material poverty, we clung to each other as if for life itself. The constant creaking of the old wooden bed frame became a lullaby for my soul. Every morning, the floor was littered with used, torn wrappers. I thought, back then, that all I had left was love. Looking back now, I see I didn’t even have that. I don’t know what I was even trying to pack. After an hour, my suitcase was still empty. The trash can, however, was overflowing. I scanned the room, a wave of emptiness washing over me. There was nothing here. Just worn-out furniture that screamed “making do.” A flickering lightbulb, a refrigerator that rattled like a machine on its last legs. I had wanted to make this place a home. But Mark always shut me down. “Don’t bother.” “It’s not necessary.” I thought he was just being frugal, trying to save us money. The truth was, he never saw this as a home. A woman he’d eventually get tired of. A slum that was beneath his true status. Of course, none of it was worth a single moment of his effort. I’d left my ID at the stall. I had to go back. There was only one man there. Mark was probably still at the coffee shop, whispering sweet nothings to his perfectly matched, high-society darling. The man was sitting in Mark’s chair, smoking. When he saw me, he didn’t bother to get up. “Well, well, Fish Girl. Broad daylight and the stall’s empty. Are you even in business anymore?” His voice was familiar. The other man from the livestream. If I hadn’t heard the whole thing, I might have actually believed he was just an impatient customer. “I am. What are you buying?” My flat, indifferent tone seemed to catch him off guard. After a moment, a nasty smirk spread across his face. “I want twenty eels. Deboned. Skinned. And mince them, nice and fine.” I grabbed an eel. A nail hammered through its head, pinning it to the cutting board where it writhed in agony. “You know, Fish Girl,” the man drawled, his voice thick with innuendo, “eels can be… useful for a woman.” I ignored him. My knife, an extension of my hand, made a deft, diagonal slice, sliding along the creature’s length and pulling out a clean, white spine in a single motion. “Want me to teach you how, Fish Girl?” When I continued to ignore him, he got up and reached for my face. I instinctively blocked his hand. The next thing I knew, he was on his knees, clutching his wrist and howling. “You dare touch me? Do you have any idea who I am?” he snarled. “Who are you?” I asked, my voice calm. I truly didn’t care. “I’m…” He was about to reveal himself, but caught his tongue. He still had to play his part in Mark’s little drama. The plastic curtain swished open, and a clean, well-manicured hand pushed it aside. Mark was back. He saw the man kneeling on the floor. “Caleb? What happened?” “Mark, this psycho just attacked me for no reason!” Caleb yelled. I crossed my arms and looked at Mark. “Oh? You two know each other?” Mark’s expression flickered. “Not really. He’s been here before. Faye, did you hit him?” I raised an eyebrow. “You could say that.” His face hardened with disapproval. “Faye. Apologize to him.” No questions asked. Just an order to apologize. Such deep brotherly love. My heart was already too numb to feel any more pain. All I wanted to do was laugh. “Not a chance.” My refusal was a slap in the face. Mark’s expression turned ugly. Before today, I would have smiled and charmed even the most difficult customer for the sake of the business. “Faye, don’t make me force you. Apologize to Caleb.” Caleb smirked, a vicious, triumphant look on his face. “Mark, you can’t even control your own woman? What, she won’t apologize? Fine. Then you can pay up!” His arrogance was astounding. “How much?” I asked. Caleb scrambled to his feet, pointing at a smudge on his sleeve. “Two hundred thousand! This shirt was custom-made last week. It’s ruined now, reeks of fish. And you touched me with your filthy hands. It’s disgusting.” “What’s the account number?” “Talking big, aren’t we? Can you even afford it?” Caleb rattled off a string of numbers. “Sent,” I said, not even blinking. He checked his phone, a flash of surprise in his eyes, quickly replaced by a look of malicious amusement. “That’s just for the shirt! You injured me! You owe me for lost wages!” “Is eight hundred thousand enough?” “Faye!” Mark roared, grabbing my arm to stop me from making another transfer. “Faye! He just wants an apology! Why are you giving him so much money? Get on your knees! Apologize to him, and he’ll let it go!” Mark shoved me, and I stumbled, catching myself on one knee. He tried to force my head down, but I refused to bow, my hand clutching my phone. “Oh, right. And for pain and suffering, emotional distress… is a million enough for that? There. I’ve sent it all.” In less than a minute, I had emptied the bank account. Not a single cent was left. “Are you insane?” Mark’s face was ashen, his eyes looking at me like I was a complete madwoman. “What are you yelling about? You think it’s not enough? Fine! You can have it all!” I grabbed the metal cash box from the counter and smashed it on the ground. Coins and bills scattered everywhere, sticking to the wet, grimy floor. A sharp, jarring pain shot up my arm. In that moment, I realized I hated him. I hated Mark with a rage so pure I wanted to tear him limb from limb. “Faye, what the hell is wrong with you? Do you know how much money you just gave him? That was everything we had!” Mark’s voice was shaking. His eyes were daggers, ready to kill me. My own eyes burned. I met his furious gaze, a silent war waging between us. I pointed to the phone still streaming on the cutting board. I didn’t have to look at the blood draining from Mark’s face. “Don’t worry about it,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “A mere two million. Pocket change. Let your good buddy have fun with it.” I snatched my ID from the counter and walked out to the street to hail a cab. Mark chased after me. “Faye, wait. Listen to me. I can explain.” His expression was desperate, all traces of his earlier anger gone. “Was it fun, Mark? Was it fun making a fool of me?” A deep, cold wound he’d carved inside me was finally beginning to bleed. “Don’t worry, Mark. I can take a joke. You don’t have to wait until you’re tired of me. I’ll leave on my own. Just give me back my ring.” The ring. My mentor’s wife had given it to me before she passed away. Give this to the man who loves you most, she’d said. I gave it to Mark. But he didn’t love me. I’m so sorry, Amelia. I was wrong about him. I’ve tarnished your gift. “Faye, it’s not what you think…” “Don’t say another word. Just give me the ring. After this, I never want to see you again. You make me sick.” A flicker of anger finally crossed his face. “Faye, that’s enough. Just listen to my explanation, and I’ll forgive you for what you said. You’re a fishmonger. There are obstacles for us, real ones. But I can give you money, enough to set you up for life. Just tell me what you want.” The clouds overhead gathered, greedily swallowing the daylight. “I want my ring.” “You’re being ridiculous! You think anyone actually wants this cheap piece of junk?” He ripped the red cord from his neck and threw it at me with all his might. The ring hit a tree and bounced onto the grimy pavement. It rolled, a tiny, glittering circle in the filth, and disappeared down the narrow slit of a sewer grate. My eyes flew wide, feeling as if they might tear at the corners. I scrambled toward the grate like a madwoman. I plunged my hand in without a second’s hesitation. The foul water swirled below, a putrid mix of fish guts, scales, and God knows what else. My fingers scrabbled through the sludge. I was becoming one with the filth on the ground, the stench filling my lungs with every ragged breath. “Faye, it’s just a ring! Are you serious?! Look at yourself! Have you no shame?!” Mark ran over, trying to pull me back. And then the sky opened up. A torrential downpour crashed down on us. “Mark, darling, is this the woman who’s had you so bewitched? Your standards seem to have slipped.” A perfectly dressed woman holding an umbrella emerged from the coffee shop next door. The diamond necklace at her throat glittered, each facet reflecting my own pathetic, drenched form. “Chloe, she’s just some girl I was messing with. I didn’t know she was crazy. Don’t worry, there’s no way in hell I would ever marry her.” Mark looked at me as if I were a piece of trash he couldn’t get rid of. “That’s enough, Faye! What is wrong with you today? How much more are you going to embarrass me?” I tasted blood in my mouth. I couldn’t hear anything they were saying. I just kept reaching, my fingers clawing through the muck, searching for that tiny, precious circle of metal. It was the only thing my mentor’s wife, the woman who was more of a mother to me than anyone, had left me. Mark’s patience finally snapped. He raised his hand and slapped me, hard, across the face. “Faye, stop it! I’ll buy you a new one! A better one! That piece of crap isn’t worth anything! Get up!” Chloe giggled, her hand covering her mouth. “Leave her be, Mark. She’s just a fishmonger. She’s never seen anything nice. A little ring is probably the most valuable thing she’s ever owned. She’s really not in your league.” Mark raised his hand to hit me again. But I finally gave up. I slowly pulled my hand from the sewer, letting the rain wash the filth away. The raindrops pelted my skin, a cold, familiar stinging. I looked up at Mark, a deep sadness welling inside me. “Mark, that night… when you held me… were you thinking about the future we were building together, or were you laughing at how stupid I was?” His expression wavered. I knew he understood which night I meant. My birthday. He’d bought me a cheap strawberry shortcake. The plastic fork it came with bent when you tried to use it. But we sat on the floor, eating it with a six-dollar bottle of cheap whiskey, and we were happy. Then a pipe burst in the living room, spraying us with rusty water, a sudden downpour we couldn’t escape. We were helpless. So we just sat there on the floor, soaked to the bone, laughing like idiots. “Mark! One day, we’re going to buy a huge, beautiful house! It’ll have a massive, soft bed, at least a king-size! And a giant kitchen, so I can cook you all kinds of amazing food. You know, I’m an amazing cook. I was almost a world-class chef.” Why did he nod his head back then? Why did he let me believe in a dream he had already been living his whole life? The rain seemed to stop, or maybe it never did. Mark’s face was slick with water. “Faye, I’ll say it again. I can’t marry a fishmonger. But I can give you money. A lot of money.” “I hope you don’t regret this.” I flagged down a taxi. Mark didn’t know. I wasn’t a fishmonger. I was going to the airport. I was going home.

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I was born a doormat. A chronic, incurable people pleaser. When I was a kid, my little brother wouldn’t eat his dinner, and my dad flew into a rage. He screamed, “If you won’t eat the food, eat dirt!” To diffuse the tension, five-year-old me literally went outside, dug up a spoon of dirt, and ate it just to make my dad smile. Growing up, I clawed my way into a top-tier Ivy League university just to please my relatives and fish for their compliments. The day I stepped onto campus for my junior year, I walked straight into a scene from a bad rom-com. Roses covered the quad. A crowd had gathered around a gorgeous girl. Some guy was confessing his love. And judging by his thunderous expression, he had just been brutally rejected. He stormed toward me, blinded by rage. The path was narrow, the crowd was tight, and I had nowhere to go. To avoid a collision, I panicked and dove headfirst into the campus fountain. Splash. The crowd erupted in laughter. I wasn’t sure if they were laughing at the rejected guy or the soaking wet girl in the fountain. Hearing the laughter, the guy stopped. He turned back and stared at me as I climbed out, dripping wet. “You saw me get rejected, so you jumped in the fountain,” he said, squinting. “Who are you? I’ve never seen you before.” I opened my mouth to explain. “Oh. You like me.” He nodded, connecting dots that didn’t exist. “That’s why you jumped.” A ten-ton accusation dropped on my head. I shivered. “Huh?” He shoved the rejected bouquet of roses into my hands and draped his suit jacket over my wet shoulders. His face was still dark. “Since you’re this obsessed with me, I guess I’ll force myself to date you.” Me: ??? But the word “No” got stuck in my throat. I physically couldn’t say it. Plus, he just got humiliated publicly… maybe he needed this to save face. As a people pleaser, I couldn’t bear to see someone embarrassed. I stared at the wet pavement and whispered, “Okay, sure.” If you know anything about people pleasers, you know we are allergic to confrontation. 1 Asher Sterling dragged me straight to his car. The heat was blasting. Asher ignored me the second we got in. It was just the stoic driver, Asher scrolling on his phone, and me. I figured the situation was too awkward, so he kidnapped me to escape the scene. I was dripping water all over his expensive leather seats. Drip. Drip. To cover the sound and break the suffocating silence, I started rambling. “Knock knock.” No one answered. The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror. Asher kept scrolling. “Who’s there? Water. Water who? Water you doing ignoring me?” Silence. The air in the car somehow got heavier. “Haha,” I laughed dryly. I lowered my head and pointed at the window. “You can just drop me off here.” Asher finally looked up. “Why? I just ordered a dress for you. We’re going to the hotel so you can change.” “The… hotel?” I gripped the door handle. Dating meant going straight to a hotel? Asher realized how that sounded. “Don’t get any ideas. It’s my brother’s birthday gala tonight. I just need a plus-one to save face.” Okay. Rich boy. If you tell me not to get ideas, I won’t get ideas. I pulled my phone out of my pocket. It was dripping wet. Asher raised an eyebrow, looking horrified. “Is that… an iPhone 6? With a cracked screen?” I nodded. “Yeah. My mom was throwing it away. I thought the phone would be sad, so I saved it.” Asher blinked. “You saved it because you didn’t want your mom to be sad?” He nodded, impressed by my filial piety. “No,” I corrected. “I was afraid the phone would be sad.” Asher: … 2 I changed into the dress and waited for Asher at the hotel entrance. I hate making people wait. When Asher walked out, I saw a flash of genuine surprise in his eyes. He quickly looked away, acting unnatural. “You waited out here this long? You really must like me.” I didn’t confirm or deny. We walked into the ballroom. The party was in full swing. A man walked toward us. When he saw Asher, he smirked with disdain. Then his eyes landed on me, and he paused. “Asher. Couldn’t catch the last one, huh? But honestly… I think this one is prettier.” Asher didn’t speak. He just glared, his face dark. They stood there in a standoff. The silence around us was terrifying. I decided to break the ice. “Thanks! You’re not too bad yourself.” The man looked at me again, his expression complicated, before walking away. The room exhaled. Asher leaned in. “That’s Julian Cross. My sworn enemy. Business, personal, everything. Our families are rivals in DC and Wall Street, so naturally, we hate each other.” I took a sip of champagne. “He loves trying to steal my women,” Asher whispered. I didn’t know how to respond, so I went with empathy. “That’s a little mean.” This was the harshest insult I was capable of. I was trying to please the Prince of New York, after all. Asher looked at me. “…Just a little?” I grit my teeth and went for the jugular. “Okay, that’s very mean.” Asher’s driver walked over and handed me a box. A brand new iPhone. The latest model. “My old one,” the driver lied, looking awkward. It was still in the plastic wrap. I broke my moral code for the sake of the gift. “Julian Cross is a terrible person.” Asher nodded, satisfied. He gave me a few instructions and went to find his brother. Across the room, Julian Cross raised his glass to me. I immediately smiled back. He couldn’t have heard me, right? 3 I drank too much champagne. The room was spinning. I went to the hallway to find a bathroom, but suddenly, a hand grabbed my wrist and yanked me into a supply closet. Click. The door locked. It was Julian. I looked at him calmly. Was he going to yell at me for calling him terrible? I stared at him. He stared at me, the corners of his lips twitching upward. He placed one hand on the door and the other on my waist. “Where did Asher find such a perfect little puppet? Pretty and obedient.” His warm breath hit my face. “If you’re drunk,” I said politely, “I can call room service for some coffee.” He shook his head. “Why don’t you leave him and be with me? I can buy you as many phones as you want.” I blinked. “But I only have one SIM card.” Who needs that many phones? He lowered his eyes, his voice dropping to a whisper. “If you don’t say yes, I might get hurt. I’ll be depressed. I’ll be lonely and sleepless for the rest of my life.” He sounded so sincere. I could almost see tears in his eyes. “Okay then,” I said. “Just don’t tell Asher.” Julian blinked, genuinely shocked. He didn’t expect me to fold just because he played the victim card. Sigh. It’s hard being a people pleaser. Outside, I heard Asher calling my name. He was looking for me. I moved to open the door. Julian pressed me harder against the wall. “Babe, my heart is racing,” he rasped. “Check me. Do you think I’m having an allergic reaction to the alcohol?” He pulled open his mesh shirt. What was I supposed to see in the dark? I could only see abs and chest muscles. I looked down seriously. “It looks… asymptomatic.” Asher’s voice faded into the distance. Julian chuckled darkly. He was playing Asher. And he was playing me. I looked up at him calmly. “By the way, are you trying to seduce me?” 4 The question was too direct. Julian froze. I smiled, reached out, and buttoned his shirt for him, smoothing out the wrinkles with care. “Babe, you should hit the gym. I measured with my eyes… you’re not as big as Asher.” Julian’s playful smile cracked. “Turns out you aren’t a puppet,” he murmured. I switched to my ‘admiration’ face. “What are you saying? If you want a puppet, I can act like one. I can be whatever you want.” His pupils contracted. He looked… conflicted. “I think I like this version better,” he said. I smiled. I’m a people pleaser. I’ll be whatever makes you happy. I learned to be this way to survive. In a family with too many mouths and not enough food, I had to please my parents to get the scraps left over after my brother ate. When my brother started stealing from neighbors, I stole my mom’s phone so they’d blame the theft on him, balancing the scales of justice in my own twisted way. When my parents discussed selling me to the neighbor’s mentally disabled son for dowry money, I smiled and said, “Okay.” Then I put sleeping pills in their porridge, took my ID and all the cash in the house, and ran. Compliance is my armor. Asher likes them innocent? I can be innocent. Julian likes them wild? I can be wild. I am a full-service people pleaser. Julian fixed his collar. “I originally just wanted to use you to mess with Asher. But I’ve changed my mind.” I raised an eyebrow. “So? Should I say thank you?” He looked incredulous. I pushed him aside and unlocked the door. He blocked my path. “Clarify something. Where am I smaller than Asher?” I looked him up and down. “Everywhere.” The crack in his perfect mask shattered. He dropped his arm. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll tell Asher we were in here?” See? One second he’s whining about being lonely, the next he’s threatening me. I made a terrified face, cupping my cheeks. “Oh no! What should I do? I’m so scared!” Then I pushed past him and walked away. I left him standing there, grinning like an idiot. My instincts told me: some dogs only chase you if you ignore them.

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Chapter 1 When I was six, a volunteer teacher came to our village. During the first class, my older sister, Lily, told me to draw a picture in my notebook—a drawing of our mother, chained in the corner of her room. The next day, a fleet of cars with flashing red and blue lights surrounded our house. Police officers subdued my screaming father, then smashed the rusty lock on my mother’s bedroom door. I watched as Mom grabbed Lily’s hand and ran toward a man in an expensive suit. Her face was glowing with a smile I had never seen before. Dad lay on the ground in a pool of blood, his eyes closed. Terrified, I begged Mom to save him. She shoved me away. “Don’t call me Mom! If it wasn’t for Lily, I never would have given birth to a monster like you!” I froze. Lily, didn’t you say that if I gave the drawing to the teacher, Mom would finally hug me? … Everything happening in front of me was nothing like what I had imagined. The man in the suit, who held my mother tightly, stared at me with cold, deadly eyes. He looked like someone important, someone powerful. After kicking my unconscious father a few more times, he walked toward me. His large hand blocked out the sunlight. I squeezed my eyes shut, trembling. “Wait…” It was Mom’s voice. She tugged at the man’s sleeve and looked at me with a complicated expression. My heart leaped. Lily was right! I gave the drawing to the teacher, and now Mom liked me. But then Lily pulled away from Mom’s embrace, pointed a shaking finger at me, and screamed through her tears. “Mommy, it’s her! That kidnapper loved her the most!” “He gave her all the good food first! He called her his little treasure!” “Her kidnapper dad made us suffer so much! Why aren’t we punishing her?” Mom’s body stiffened. The look in her eyes changed instantly. The man, hearing this, looked at me like he wanted to kill me. Bang! He kicked me to the ground. The hard sole of his shoe slammed into my chest. It felt like my insides were being rearranged. “Mommy… Mommy…” I cried out for her, but she just held Lily tighter, never looking back at me again. Hearing me call her “Mommy” only seemed to make the man angrier. He started kicking and punching my curled-up body. The pain was suffocating. My vision blurred. Mommy, didn’t you like me just a second ago? Why don’t you like me anymore? A police officer finally pulled the man off me, saving my life. My father, covered in blood, was handcuffed and taken away in a car with flashing lights. As he passed me, he smiled faintly, mumbling something I couldn’t hear. I knew the man in the silver bracelets wasn’t coming back. Mom and Lily were getting ready to leave too. Panicked, I wailed and grabbed Mom’s leg, kneeling on the dirt. “Mommy, don’t leave me! I’ll be good, I promise!” Mom stopped. But Lily started crying again. “Mommy, I’m scared! I don’t want to see her!” Although none of them wanted to take me, the police insisted. Reluctantly, they put me in the car. The seat was soft, but I was too scared to move. I was terrified my dirty clothes would stain it, and they would throw me out. I started feeling dizzy. When the car took a sharp turn, I couldn’t hold it in anymore and fell against Lily. Lily burst into tears. “You bullied me before, and now you’re bullying me again! I hate you! I never want to see you again!” In the end, they found a thick rope. One end was tied to my wrist, the other to the back of the car. They dragged me behind the car like a piece of trash. By the time the car stopped, I was a bloody mess. Chapter 2 I spent a month in the hospital. Every time the doctor came in, he looked at me with pity. Mom never came. Not once. Only Lily visited a few times. Each time, she wore a beautiful princess dress I had never seen before, holding fancy snacks. She sat by my bed, crunching on chips, bragging about her new life. “Daisy, Daddy bought me a huge toy castle. It’s bigger than our old house in the village.” “Mommy took me to eat French food. Escargot is so delicious. You’ve probably never even heard of it, have you?” Her words stung, like little needles in my heart. But I never said a word. I just watched her quietly. After I recovered, I was taken to their home. It was a mansion, but my room was in the attic. Small, stuffy, with only a tiny skylight. I wasn’t allowed to leave my room, let alone go to school. Every day after school, Lily would come to my door in her pristine uniform, carrying a cute backpack, just to show off. “Daisy, today in art class, the teacher taught us how to paint. It was so fun.” “Daisy, my classmates invited me to the amusement park this weekend. Mommy already said yes.” I wanted to go to school too. But from the whispers of the maids, I vaguely understood my background. Until one day, Lily dragged me out of the attic and brought me to Mom. “Mommy, let Daisy go to school too.” “It was the kidnapper’s fault, not hers. We shouldn’t take it out on Daisy.” After Lily begged repeatedly, Mom finally relented. “Fine. Go if you want. Just don’t cause trouble.” Mom didn’t even look at me. She dropped those cold words and walked away. Even though Mom still didn’t like me, I could finally go to school. I was enrolled in the same elite private school as Lily. I thought this was the start of a new life. But on my first day, my desk was covered in black ink. My new textbooks were torn to shreds, confetti scattered across the floor. I didn’t dare make a sound. I cleaned it up silently, alone. During recess, a group of rich kids cornered me in the bathroom. “Hillbilly trash! Do you even know how to use a toilet this fancy?” “Look at her clothes. So tacky!” “I heard her dad was a kidnapper. Scum like that shouldn’t have kids!” A heavy-set girl grabbed my hair and shoved my head into the toilet bowl. I struggled, but I was too weak. I choked on the yellow water. Just then, Lily appeared. She frowned and shouted, “Stop bullying my sister!” She pulled me out of the toilet. “My sister just came from the countryside. She doesn’t know how to use a flush toilet. Don’t laugh at her.” “Mom and Dad brought her back. Even though… even though she doesn’t really look like us, please, for my sake, stop bullying her, okay?” But after saying this, she covered her nose and looked at me with disgust. “Why do you smell so bad? Did you not shower again?” After her “defense,” the group laughed even harder. “Oh, so she’s the charity case the family took in!” “Don’t worry, Lily. For your sake, we’ll take good care of her!” After school, I went home filthy. When Mom saw me, she frowned in disgust. “Just like that animal. Only knows how to cause trouble.” I said nothing. I dragged my exhausted body back to the attic. Locking the door, I pulled out some paper and a pencil from under my bed. I had found them in the trash. Lying on the floor, I drew a little girl. She was standing on the edge of a cliff. Behind her, countless invisible hands were pushing her into the abyss. Chapter 3 I quickly learned the rules of survival at school. No matter how they insulted me or pranked me, I kept a poker face. They wouldn’t let me study, so I pretended not to listen in class. But back in the attic at night, I studied bit by bit. Until one day, Lily tore all my notes into pieces. “Daisy, Mommy isn’t going to pay for your college anyway. This trash takes up too much space. I cleaned it up for you. You’re welcome.” In that moment, something inside me snapped. I pushed her. Hard. She didn’t expect me to fight back. She fell backward, hitting her forehead against the corner of the table. Blood trickled down. “Ah!” Mom and the servants rushed in immediately. Lily cried and threw herself into Mom’s arms. “Mommy, Daisy hit me! She said I’m a bad person and she wants to kick me out of the house!” Mom looked at the cut on Lily’s forehead, then at me. Her eyes turned vicious. “You ungrateful little wolf! Lily treats you so well, and you dare to hit her!” Mom raised her hand and slapped me across the face. My “father,” Mr. Sterling, rushed in too. “You touched Lily? I’ll kill you!” He grabbed my hair and slammed my head against the wall. Pain exploded in my skull. Lily hid behind Mom, her eyes red. “Daddy, don’t blame Daisy. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have touched her things…” “What things does she have? A bastard child, eating my food, living in my house, and daring to bully my daughter!” He looked around, grabbed a leather belt from the wall. The belt gleamed in the light. Mom watched without a flicker of emotion, only hugging Lily tighter. Crack! The belt lashed across my back. My clothes tore instantly. Burning pain made me curl into a ball. “It wasn’t me…” I could barely speak through the pain, but I tried. “She… she tore up my notes…” “Still lying! Still framing Lily!” Crack! Crack! Crack! The belt hit my back, my legs. Everywhere was tearing pain. I looked up at Mom in the doorway, begging silently. She finally spoke, but not to save me. “Just like her kidnapper father. Full of lies. Born bad.” Mr. Sterling threw the belt down and started kicking me. Chest, stomach, back… every kick felt like my organs were rupturing. The taste of blood filled my mouth. My vision blurred. Before I closed my eyes, I saw Lily peek out from Mom’s embrace. A faint, triumphant smile curled the corner of her lips. Chapter 4 In middle school, Lily’s grandmother returned from abroad. That night, the family held a grand dinner. At the table, Grandma met Lily and me for the first time. Lily was poised and charming, calling “Grandma” sweetly with every breath. Grandma responded politely but kept glancing at me in the corner. Halfway through dinner, Grandma wanted to walk in the garden. As we passed through the foyer, Lily, walking behind me, suddenly stuck out her foot. I tripped and fell forward. Crash! Grandma’s favorite antique vase shattered on the floor. Lily screamed immediately. “Ah! Daisy! How could you be so clumsy! That was Grandma’s favorite vase!” Mom’s face darkened instantly. She stormed over, raising her hand to slap me. But the slap never landed. A hand pulled me behind them. Grandma stared coldly at Lily. “Don’t play these cheap tricks in front of me.” Lily’s face went pale. Mom froze. After that, my life improved slightly. At least Lily stopped openly tormenting me. Although Mom still didn’t like me, I understood. I focused on my studies. I couldn’t change my birth, but I wanted to change my fate. My grades soared. I even skipped a grade and became Lily’s classmate. She was jealous. She started sabotaging me in every way possible. In the final mock exam before college entrance tests, I ranked first in the grade again. As long as I maintained this, I could start a new life. But the day after the exam, Lily reported me to the homeroom teacher. “Teacher, Daisy cheated. Here is the evidence!” Looking at the slip of paper in her hand, I trembled with rage. “You tore that from my scratch paper!” “Lily, why are you doing this to me!” Just then, Mom rushed in. Without asking a single question, she slapped me across the face. “Have you no shame!” “You’re useless yourself, so you have to frame your sister! You’re just like your kidnapper father—rotten to the core!” Mr. Sterling followed Mom in, pointing at my nose and cursing. “You have disgraced the Sterling family!” “From today on, don’t step foot in our house!” The principal walked in. “Mr. Sterling, I think we need to investigate further. Daisy has always been a top student. She has no reason to cheat.” Before Mr. Sterling could speak, Mom cut in. “She’s bad to the bone. A pathological liar. Maybe she cheated on every exam to get first place.” “I didn’t cheat! The note is fake! Check the surveillance cameras!” I screamed. “Shut up! A kidnapper’s child getting an education is already a miracle. If we say you cheated, you cheated.” Under Mr. Sterling’s pressure, the principal adjusted his glasses and avoided my gaze. “Um… Daisy Sterling, senior class one. Due to misconduct and cheating, you are hereby expelled and disqualified from the college entrance exam.” My world collapsed in that instant. I knelt and begged the principal to check the cameras, to prove my innocence. But he just glanced at Mr. Sterling and shook his head slightly at me. Walking out of the office, Mom and Dad flanked Lily protectively, leaving me far behind. At the stairwell corner, Lily deliberately slowed down. She leaned close to my ear and whispered, so only I could hear: “Daisy, you can’t beat me. In your next life, make sure you’re born into a better family.” I looked at her smug face. Years of grievance exploded in a split second. I used all my strength and shoved her toward the railing. “Ah—!” Lily screamed as she fell from the fourth floor. I climbed onto the railing and looked down at the two shocked parents. “Mom, I’m giving this life back to you. In the next life, I never want to know you.” Wind roared in my ears. I saw the mother I drew in my notebook, the one chained up. She reached out to me, wearing the gentle smile I had imagined a thousand times. This time, she would definitely hug me. Lily and I were rushed to the hospital. Mom screamed and cried for Lily, completely ignoring me, equally covered in blood, on the other gurney. Mr. Sterling hovered anxiously around Lily. Chaos in the ER. “Patient has lost too much blood! We need a transfusion! She’s Type B, blood bank is low!” “Take mine! I’m her father!” Mr. Sterling rolled up his sleeve frantically. The doctor shook his head. “No, you’re Type A. Not a match.” Both parents froze. “Impossible? I’m O, he’s A. How can Lily be B?” Just then, a nurse ran over with my lab results. “Doctor, this girl is Type A. We can use her blood!” Silence fell over the ER. At that moment, several police officers walked in. “Mr. Sterling, Mrs. Sterling. We are from the City PD.” “The kidnapper, Zhou Yong, just revealed a major secret to bargain for medical parole.” “He confessed that years ago in the hospital, he swapped his biological daughter with yours.”

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1 The day my fiancé and the true heiress announced their engagement, I wanted to drive my car straight into the hall and take them all down with me. But just as that insane thought took hold, my phone wouldn’t stop ringing. I answered. It was the hospital. “Miss Qin, you’re pregnant…” The engine died, and I sat there, frozen. Half an hour later, as cheerful music drifted from the grand hall, I started the car again. I turned it around and drove straight to the airport. And so, just as everyone wanted, the fake heiress of the Qin family vanished from Veyra City. I fled a thousand miles away to Port Blossom. I fought tooth and nail to survive, to bring my daughter—my own flesh and blood—into this world. I never contacted any of them again. Until four years later, when they started showing up, one by one. 2 The first time I saw Leo Vance in four years was outside the kindergarten. I had just picked up Daisy when another mom nudged me. “Hey, Daisy’s mom, look across the street. Isn’t that the famous singer… what’s his name again…” I followed her gaze and saw him. “Leo Vance!” The mom snapped her fingers. “That’s him!” I pulled my eyes away. “Never heard of him.” She looked surprised. “You don’t listen to music? Leo Vance! He’s been the biggest indie singer-songwriter for the past few years! Won a ton of awards!” She leaned in closer. “You know, looking at him… he actually looks a bit like you. You both have that kind of striking beauty…” I just smiled and shook my head, leading Daisy away. “Barbara Qin.” His voice cut through the air behind me. I ignored it and kept walking. “Barbara!” Daisy looked up at me. “Mommy, is that man calling you? Why did he call you Barbara Qin?” I smiled down at her. “He’s got the wrong person, sweetie.” But when we reached the parking lot, just as I was about to open the car door, a hand grabbed my arm. I turned. It was Leo, panting, his face flushed. “Barbara,” he breathed, “you… you’re actually alive?!” His words, as always, were laced with acid. But maybe from the run, his eyes were rimmed with a faint, unmistakable red. 3 I dropped Daisy off at the neighbor’s. When I came back downstairs, Leo was leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets. “What are you doing living in a dump like this? Where’s your apartment? I’m coming up.” I shook my head. “There’s no need.” Four years ago, he was the one who said his only sister was Isabelle Vance. He was the one who said the thought of calling someone like me his sister made him sick. When Ethan Qin cast me out, when Julian abandoned me, I was lost. I had thought, for a desperate moment, of turning to him—my own blood brother. I stood outside his record label’s building all night in a blizzard, nearly freezing to death. But all I got from him was a single, brutal sentence: His greatest wish was that I had never been born. “If you didn’t exist, Isabelle would never have been switched at birth. She wouldn’t have had to suffer so much.” “Sister? What a joke. Now that the Qins have thrown you out, you’re trying to play the ‘family’ card with me? I would never acknowledge someone like you.” That’s when I finally understood. No matter how much I had done for him, he would always hate me because of Isabelle. Now, he was looking at me with that same judgmental gaze, his brow furrowed. “That kid… is she Julian’s? Did you run off just to have his baby?” I paused. “She is my daughter. Mine alone.” A smirk twisted his lips. “Barbara, she’s the spitting image of him. Do you think I’m blind?” “Don’t tell me you actually thought you could win him back by secretly having his kid. Are you that delusional… God, it’s not just pathetic, it’s sad.” “I told you, she is my daughter,” I cut in, my voice sharp. “I have no intention of ever returning to Veyra City, and I certainly have no plans to use my child to fight with your precious Isabelle over Julian. You can relax. You don’t have to be so hostile.” “Just like you said back then, we’re strangers who happen to share some DNA. I’m not interested in your life, so please, do me the courtesy of staying out of mine.” He stared at me, stunned. “If there’s nothing else, you should go,” I said, turning away. “Wait.” He grabbed my arm again, his grip tight. He opened his mouth, then closed it. “You… you…” I frowned. “What?” “Why… why did you leave back then?” he finally stammered out. “You were a pampered princess who couldn’t do anything for herself. So what if a few people said some mean things? You just had to run away with a baby in your belly like some drama queen.” “If I hadn’t found you, how long were you planning on living this miserable life? And these past four years…” He hesitated. “How… how the hell did you survive?” 4 I glanced at his eyes, red-rimmed again. Probably from anger. He was likely shocked that I was still alive. My existence was a threat to Isabelle’s perfect life. How did I survive? Someone else gave their life so I could. But I had no reason to tell him that. The old Barbara Qin was a delicate hothouse flower, sheltered from the world. But the woman I was now, Barbara Shaw, had long ago learned not to cry for help. He saw my silence and grew agitated. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you so withdrawn? Don’t tell me that big earthquake in Port Blossom a few years ago rattled your brain. Serves you right for running off to a godforsaken place like this.” Just then, a neighbor walked by. “Hey Barbara, getting dinner started?” I forced a smile. “Just about to.” Leo froze. “You should go now,” I said. But his grip on my arm tightened. “Why did your name change? Shaw?! Are you married? Wait, whose name is that?” “Whose name it is has nothing to do with you.” I pried his fingers off my arm, one by one. “My name, my life… Leo, none of it is any of your business.” 5 Leo was a celebrity. He couldn’t afford to make a scene in public. I went upstairs, brought Daisy home, and from the hallway window, I saw him still standing below, looking lost. He never cared about me before. This sudden display of concern was probably just his discomfort with my new indifference. After all, four years ago, when I learned of his musical dreams, I had used every connection I had in Veyra City’s high society just to get him an audition. The very record label he was signed to now was the one I had fought to get for him. He was my brother. He had suffered. I wanted him to succeed. But he twisted my kindness into a calculated plot to isolate and hurt Isabelle. “Mommy, was that uncle today… your family?” Daisy asked from her bed. I paused, then smiled, stroking her hair. “No, sweetie. Why would you think that?” “Just guessing. You two look alike.” Family. An image of Ethan flashed in my mind. I used to believe that no matter what, blood or not, Ethan would always be my brother. But four years ago, he had held Isabelle in his arms after she’d fallen down the stairs, and the look he gave me was pure rage. “Barbara, you have disappointed me more than I can say.” “From this day on, you are no longer a part of the Qin family. And I no longer have you as a sister.” “My only sister is Isabelle.” I had cried, clinging to his legs, pleading that I hadn’t pushed her, begging him not to abandon me. But he kicked my hand away and walked out with Isabelle in his arms, never looking back. I shook my head, clearing the memory. “That man is not mommy’s family.” Daisy’s face fell. “Oh. I thought maybe you had other family besides Uncle Sean.” I smiled and booped her nose. “Mommy has you and Uncle Sean. That’s all I need.” “But Uncle Sean is gone…” she mumbled, her lip trembling. “I miss him.” I understood. But a gentle sadness was better than the soul-crushing agony of having something, depending on it, only to have it ripped away. I had lived through that. I would never let my daughter experience the same pain. I just never expected to see Ethan the very next day. 6 Daisy spiked a fever in the middle of the night. I rushed her to the hospital. The viral infection was aggressive, and she needed to be admitted for an IV drip. I didn’t sleep a wink. By morning, the fever finally broke. She was listless and weak. I carried her on my back, stopping at a street vendor to buy some meat and vegetables on the way home. Just as I paid, a hand with long, elegant fingers took the bags from me. I froze. I looked up and saw Ethan’s face through the hazy morning mist. My sleep-deprived brain went blank. For a split second, I almost called him ‘brother’ before I remembered. He had forbidden me from ever calling him that again. The Qin family was a power I couldn’t afford to cross. After all, to punish me for ‘bullying’ Isabelle, Ethan’s single word had been enough to get me blacklisted by all of Veyra City. “Mr. Qin,” I corrected myself immediately. I was too busy trying to figure out why he was in Port Blossom to notice the flicker of pain that crossed his face. “Let me carry that,” he said softly. “It’s fine.” I reached for the bags, but my movement was clumsy, and Daisy whimpered on my back. “Don’t push yourself, Cece.” He stopped me, his hand on my arm, keeping the bags from me. “Let me take you and the child home.” 7 Cece. It had been so long since Ethan had called me that. Our parents were always abroad, so for most of my life, Ethan was the one who raised me. And when he saw me as his sister, he truly spoiled me. Someone once asked him if he wasn’t afraid I’d cause trouble with how much he pampered me. He had just smirked. “So what if she causes trouble? Let her. No matter how big the mess, I’ll be there to clean it up.” But then Isabelle came home. At first, he promised me I would always be his sister too. But every time Isabelle provoked me, he would tell me to be the bigger person. “She’s been through a lot, Cece. Just let it go.” He said we had to make it up to her. I didn’t want to make things difficult for him. He had been my brother for over twenty years; I just wanted him to be happy. So I let it go. I endured it. Again and again. It wasn’t until he blindly believed Isabelle’s lies about me that I finally realized: I saw him as my brother, but he had long since stopped seeing me as his sister. And when he took back all his affection, leaving me to be torn apart by the world, I understood just how foolish I’d been to ever depend on him. We drove in silence. It had been ages since I’d ridden in a Maybach. The luxury felt alien. I just held Daisy tighter, my mind racing. Did Leo tell him? Was he here to make sure I wouldn’t hurt Isabelle? What would he do to me? Punish me for secretly having Julian’s child? I didn’t know. My head throbbed. I hugged Daisy closer, completely missing the look of profound longing in his eyes as he watched me. “Cece…” I looked up. There were new lines around his eyes. “Four years ago… we all thought you…” “You thought I was dead, I know,” I finished for him. “Honestly, it’s better if you just assume I am. I gave up fighting with Isabelle a long time ago. Everything was hers to begin with; it’s only right that it went back to her. You don’t have to be so tense, so defensive. You don’t need to come check on me. All I want is to live a quiet life with my daughter.” “And about my daughter,” I added, “she will only ever be with me. I will never go looking for Julian. I swear on my life, I will not use her to sabotage Isabelle and Julian’s relationship. You can rest assured.” I met his gaze and repeated, “You really can rest assured.” He looked stunned. “That’s not…” “Then are you afraid I’ll use the Qin family name to cause trouble? Don’t worry, I won’t. I changed my last name years ago…” “Cece!” he cut in, his voice cracking. His eyes were red. “Brother… is here to bring you home.”

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I found a half-dead werewolf in the woods. I pinched pennies and skipped meals to buy him medicine, brewing potions until my eyes were raw. And in the end, he said to another, “I would never fall for a notorious witch.” I found that bizarre. “I don’t know what the customs are for you werewolves,” I told him later, “but for the record, I don’t date pets.” 1 I’m a witch. I live deep in the forest. My dream is to have a dog. The first time I saw Rhys, bleeding out on a bed of moss, a little shriek escaped my lips. Finally! It was my turn to find a stray! It wasn’t until I’d dragged him home and washed him off that I realized I’d picked the wrong species. The coat of shimmering silver fur wasn’t fur at all, but a ruined pelt he was wearing. Beneath the tangled, matted hair that covered his face was the face of a man. The ears and the fluffy tail, however, were real. Wolf ears and a wolf tail. I went still. My hand, mid-scrub, froze. I considered how to put him back exactly as I’d found him. The dog whimpered. No, that wasn’t right. It was a man’s groan. His lashes fluttered, and his eyes slowly opened. They were dark and brilliant, like polished obsidian from a deep forest cave. He did look a bit like a puppy, though. Fine. I’d just raise him like one. 2 I went back to scrubbing him clean. “How about I call you Lucky?” I muttered as I worked. “Sound good?” Lucky’s gaze drifted upward. “I have a name,” he whispered. “It’s Rhys.” “Right,” I said. “Lucky.” Lucky was silent. Lucky shut down. He closed his eyes again. Youth is a wonderful thing; he was asleep in an instant. It took me the rest of the day to get him clean, even combing the knots out of his hair until it was straight. I tried to wake him for some broth, but he was dead to the world. He’d passed out again. I managed to trickle some healing potion between his lips, and his eyes fluttered open. Rhys ran a hand through his hair, a thoughtful frown on his face. I puffed out my chest. “Your hair was a total mess! It took me all afternoon to get it straight.” “I have naturally curly hair,” he said, his voice flat. The silence that followed was deafening. I forced a laugh. “Well, think of it as a new look.” 3 Rhys’s injuries were serious. But when you take in a pet, you have a responsibility to see it through. I’d always been a broke witch, living meal-to-meal. Now, saving up for Rhys’s recovery, I was lucky to get one meal a day. A bundle of pain-dulling herbs cost a silver coin. A poultice of blood-clotting moss was two. Every day, I’d squat by the door with a stick, scratching figures in the dirt. The more I calculated, the more I thought Rhys was horribly unlucky to have been found by a pauper like me. I used the cheapest herbs, but the potions I brewed were flawless, distilled with a practiced hand. I often stayed up all night by the cauldron, my eyes burning from the smoke, and then spent the day tending to the half-dead Rhys. His wounds would begin to heal, but on the night of the full moon, they would tear open anew. He’d break out in a cold sweat, his already pale face draining of all color. He’d bite his lip until beads of blood formed and dripped onto his collar. I’d hold a wooden bowl to his lips, feeding him the analgesic potion one spoonful at a time. I hummed a little tune to distract him. “Hush now, little puppy, hush now, be good. Smart and so lively, a sweet, gentle boy…” He listened in silence. When I paused to take a drink of water, he told me, “I’m a wolf.” I nodded, unbothered. It was an easy fix. “Hush now, little wolfie, hush now, be good…” Rhys closed his eyes, his expression peaceful as he leaned his head against my shoulder. I could smell the scent of cedar clinging to him, a fragrance that reminded me of a pine forest blanketed in snow. 4 When Rhys was mostly healed, I started him on physical therapy. He hadn’t been on his feet for weeks, which is terrible for a wolf. I bought a bone from a local hunter, scraped it clean, and tossed it across the yard while Rhys watched. “Go get it, Lucky!” Rhys was sitting in a wicker chair, reading one of my spellbooks. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, dappling his fine features. He was too beautiful for a common dog. He gave me a look, then returned to his book. Unimpressed. I tried a sweeter tone. “If you’re a good boy, I’ll make your favorite bone broth for dinner.” Rhys’s lips tightened, but he said nothing. He gently set the book aside and then, he was gone. A true wolf. His form was a graceful, powerful arc, a shooting star against the green of the forest. In the blink of an eye, he was back, the bone held gently in his hand. He looked down at me, his eyes shining. “Here.” I took it and immediately threw it again, even farther this time. Rhys: “?” I stood on my toes and patted his head in praise. Then I commanded, “Go get it.” Rhys let out a soft sigh. And took off running. 5 Once he was almost fully recovered, Rhys started hunting. In the mornings, he’d lean against the doorframe with the crude bow and quiver I’d made him, listening as I listed the potion ingredients I needed. “A frog, a fish eye, two sprigs of myrtle…” I finished the list. He didn’t move. He just stood there, looking down at me with that brilliant gaze. “Is there anything you want?” he asked. I looked up at him and smiled. “I’d love some baked bread.” I used to save up my coins to buy fresh bread from the town. But since I’d started saving for Rhys’s medicine, it had become a luxury I couldn’t afford. Rhys nodded. From then on, he came back every day with a small loaf of bread for me. At night, he would light the candles in the cabin and organize the herbs in my medicine cabinet. Then he would sit quietly, watching me stand on a stool, humming “Hush Now, Little Wolfie” as I brewed his potions. He would bend down, letting me stroke his fluffy ears. He’d listen as I absentmindedly called him “puppy” or “Lucky.” And late at night, he’d pick up his pillow and retreat to the small room I had built just for him. He was my healing little puppy. But the beautiful dream didn’t last long. 6 One day, Rhys left at dawn and didn’t come back. He was always back by dusk. I grabbed my wand, hopped on my broomstick, and flew out to find him. I knew Rhys might have enemies. But I was once a very powerful witch. I was confident I could save him from anyone. But I didn’t see any enemies. I saw Rhys at the edge of the forest. A werewolf with gray ears and a gray tail was bowing respectfully, addressing him as “Your Majesty.” Rhys, still holding the loaf of bread he’d gotten for me, stood bathed in the silver moonlight, his expression unreadable. His voice, when he spoke, was a low current of sound, cold enough to make you shiver. “I will return soon.” “You can reassure the pack. I would never fall for a notorious witch.” Neither of them saw me. I was perched high in the branches of an old oak, shielded by an owl. Its round eyes glowed in the dark as it hooted a strange call only I could understand. “Leora,” it cooed softly in my mind, “even the Wolf King in his Northern Ridge has heard of your reputation.” I lowered my head, silent. Of course I knew. I was the “notorious witch” he spoke of.

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After my daughter was brutalized by her classmates, I posted a statement online: “I do not intend to press charges, nor will I seek compensation. My child needs to go to school, and life needs to go on.” The entire internet turned on me. What kind of man, what kind of father, was so spineless? So weak? I didn’t deserve to be a dad, they said. But while they were busy insulting me, I had already resigned from my job, sold our house, and divorced my wife, leaving her with everything. Then, I started waking up at 5 a.m. to run. To lift. To practice at the shooting range. The word father isn’t something you say. It’s something you do. 1 I stood outside the emergency room, unable to accept that the person on that gurney—unconscious, covered in wounds—was my daughter. Her skin was a canvas of angry red welts and deep bruises. The doctor told me the lacerations would leave scars she would carry for the rest of her life. Looking at her, a knife twisted in my gut. It had happened because she hadn’t said hello to the right girl in the hallway. For that, she was dragged into a bathroom and beaten by a pack of them. Now, my daughter, Lily, was lying in an ER, her condition uncertain. And the girls who did this to her were down the hall, giggling with each other. They peeked out from behind their parents, sticking their tongues out at us. “Mister, you can’t blame us,” one of them chirped, the ringleader. “Your daughter should have said hi to me. Don’t worry, I won’t touch her at school anymore. But after school… no promises.” Their expressions were light, casual. Not a flicker of remorse. Even the police officer standing nearby couldn’t take it. “Ma’am, sir, could you please control your children? Don’t provoke the victim’s family.” I watched as those parents wrapped their arms around their daughters, their faces etched with protective concern. Their daughters were precious. Was mine just born to be broken? Seeing the rage building in my eyes, the school principal stepped in, his brow furrowed. “Please, calm down. We didn’t want this to happen any more than you did. But the girls know they were wrong, and their parents have agreed to cover all the medical expenses. Isn’t that enough? Let’s not blow this out of proportion.” I stared at him in disbelief. Were those words actually coming out of a grown man’s mouth? An educator? My daughter is brutalized, and when I demand justice, I’m the one blowing things out of proportion. “Why are you looking at me like that? Am I wrong?” he pressed. “They’ve apologized. What more do you want? Do you need to ruin their lives to be happy? Can’t you think about the bigger picture here?” The bigger picture? It was the sickest joke I’d heard in my entire life. Then, a man dripping in gold jewelry—a thick chain, a gaudy watch—spoke to me with a dismissive smirk. “Look, buddy, I get it. You’re just trying to squeeze a little extra cash out of this, right? Cut the act. How much do you want to make this go away?” He was the father of the ringleader. “I have plenty of money,” he continued, “but if you want it, you have to make a public statement. You have to say your daughter’s injuries were from a fall. That my kid had nothing to do with it.” When I didn’t answer, his face hardened. “Hey. Don’t push your luck. I’m giving you an easy way out. You should take it. Because I have a thousand ways to make sure you can never make a living in this town again.” There’s an old saying: the kindest people are the ones who get taken advantage of the most. What he didn’t know was that the last person who spoke to me like that has been dead for a very long time. 2 When Lily woke up, she curled into a ball under the hospital blanket and refused to come out. Seeing her small body trembling made my heart ache. It was only when she heard my voice that she finally responded, slowly peeking her head out. Her small face was a mask of terror. She scrambled out of the sheets and threw herself into my arms. “Daddy, Mommy, I’m so scared,” she sobbed. “They all hurt me. I don’t want to go back to school. I’m so, so scared.” I raised my hand to stroke her hair, but my eyes caught the angry red lines on her back, and the pain in my chest sharpened. This was my little girl, who would cry in my arms over a paper cut. I couldn’t imagine the desperation she must have felt during that hour of torture. “Daddy,” she whispered into my shirt, “you always say you only get punished when you do something wrong. What did I do wrong? I just… I wasn’t wearing my glasses, so I didn’t see her.” I held her tighter, stroking her head. “You did nothing wrong, sweetheart. Nothing. They are the ones who are wrong.” I pulled back to look her in the eyes. “And I promise you, Daddy will make sure that the people who did wrong will pay for it.” Tears welled in her eyes. “Really, Daddy?” I nodded, my voice firm. “Really.” My wife, Sarah, sat beside us, wrapping her arms around Lily, her expression a mixture of heartbreak and helpless rage. After we finally managed to get Lily to fall asleep, I drove to the police station. The officer’s words sent my heart plummeting back into that dark pit. It turned out the ringleader, Madison, had a long history of this. Her parents were both high-powered attorneys. They had used their connections to get their daughter a falsified psychiatric diagnosis—some kind of intermittent explosive disorder—which had helped her escape legal consequences more than once. “What kind of bullshit is that?” I demanded. “She gets a free pass to be a monster just because she’s a minor? A fake diagnosis makes her untouchable?” The officer let out a heavy sigh, his gaze full of sympathy. “I’m sorry, man. Our hands are tied. The best we can do is push for a bigger settlement. If they bother your daughter again, call us immediately.” So that was it. Who knew how many other kids would have to suffer at her hands? Just then, my phone buzzed. A new message. I opened it and my blood ran cold. It was a video of Lily being beaten. 3 In the video, Lily was gasping for air as several girls held her down. Her face was already swelling, turning purple and blue as she cried helplessly. “You guys are hitting her too hard,” a voice said off-camera, laughing. “You knocked her tooth out! How’s she gonna look pretty now?” Madison then pointed the camera directly at Lily’s face for a close-up before pulling out a large pair of scissors and hacking at her hair. The video ended with the girls turning the camera on themselves. They each had a foot planted on Lily’s back, and they were all smiling, flipping off the camera with their middle fingers. Beside me, Sarah choked back a sob, her tears falling onto my hand. Her own hands were trembling, unable to watch another second. “Those animals,” she whispered, her voice shaking with rage. “I’ll kill them. I’ll burn my life to the ground to get justice for Lily.” She was completely falling apart. But my heart… my heart had become unnervingly calm. When we got home, I walked straight to the bathroom, opened the medicine cabinet, and dumped every single pill I owned into the toilet. A fake psychiatric diagnosis lets you do whatever you want without consequences? Is that how it works? Fine. Let’s see what happens when a real one stops taking his medicine. Because when the madness comes, even I can’t control myself. 4 This was my secret. No one knew except for Sarah. As a kid, I was a victim of bullying, too. It was relentless, and it broke something inside me. It gave me a gift: a severe bipolar disorder with psychotic features. The first time I snapped, I stabbed every one of my tormentors with a pencil. The second time, I cut a rabid dog that bit me into pieces. The third time, I killed a neighbor who tried to assault me. After that, I was sent away. I spent ten years in a state psychiatric hospital before I was deemed stable enough for release. The condition of that release was a lifetime of medication. Even I, a man with a genuine, violent mental illness, understood the necessity of medicine. I knew I had a responsibility to control myself, to keep society safe from what I was capable of. But Madison, with her sham diagnosis, was using the shield of mental illness as a weapon to terrorize the weak. If the sane world and its rules couldn’t give my daughter justice, then it was time for me to return to the world of the insane. 5 I gathered all our important documents and drove Sarah to the courthouse. She was silent the entire way, her hand just holding mine tightly. I signed everything away. The house, the savings, all of it. Full custody of Lily went to her. The clerk handling the uncontested divorce had never seen anything like it. She kept looking from me to Sarah with suspicion, trying to talk us out of it, but finally, she just stamped the papers. As we left, Sarah stopped me. “Whatever you’re going to do, I support you. Just one thing. Don’t hurt yourself. Lily and I still need you.” Fifteen years we’d been together. She was, and always would be, my rock. Back at our half-empty house, Lily limped over to me with a glass of water. The scabs on her face were still healing. I pulled her into a hug, my heart aching. “Lily-bug,” I said softly. “I’ve already arranged for you to take a break from school. How about you and Mommy go visit Grandma and Grandpa for a while?” She looked down, ashamed. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I caused so much trouble. It’s okay, I can go back to class. I’ll just… I’ll hide from them.” She said it was okay, but I could see the profound terror in her eyes. After I promised her again and again that everything would be all right, she finally, cautiously, nodded. At the train station, just before they boarded, Lily, wearing a hat and a mask to hide her face, turned back one last time. “Daddy, you’ll come get us soon, right? Me and Mommy are going to miss you so much.” Watching their train pull away, I took a deep breath. Don’t worry, Lily. The bad people will get what they deserve. Daddy promises. 6 That day, I posted a picture of my signed divorce papers and the agreement giving Sarah all our assets on my Facebook page. The caption was simple: Starting today, I’m back to being me. The news hit my circle of friends and family like a bomb. Messages flooded in. Why? Why the divorce? I had a sweet daughter, a loving wife. I was the one all my friends envied. Amid the dozens of messages of concern, one notification stood out: a series of celebratory fireworks emojis sent by Madison’s parents. Then, a new private message from Madison herself. Hey Mister. Heard you got kicked out. Did your wife finally dump you? How’s life on the streets? Hope you find a new wife and have a healthy daughter soon. Oh, and by the way, make sure I never see your daughter again. My… condition… might flare up. I can’t control myself, you know. Attached was a photo. A small, white rabbit, its fur shaved off, its body covered in cuts and bruises. Lily’s favorite animal was a rabbit. I suppressed the surge of rage and posted a second image: a copy of my official diagnosis for severe bipolar disorder, stamped with the red seal of a well-known psychiatric hospital. My first day off my meds, I wrote. Suddenly feeling the urge to kill someone. And one last detail. Forgot to mention, the hospital that issued this is the same one that diagnosed Madison King. Same doctor, too. As expected, Madison’s father appeared in the comments. Falsifying a medical document is a felony, you know. Are you trying to threaten us by pretending to be crazy? I ignored him. I stuck to my new routine. A six-mile run every morning. Weight training. Marksmanship drills. Fighting practice. I stopped talking about the bullying incident entirely. It was as if it had never happened. The other parents were ecstatic. They thought they had won. Life was back to normal for them. I was at the range, emptying my last magazine, when the police called. They wanted me to come in and sign the settlement agreement. I refused. I didn’t want their money. And I damn sure didn’t want a settlement. The officer pleaded with me for a long time, but finally gave up and started calling the other parents to inform them. The moment they heard I’d rejected the deal, they exploded. “We already agreed to pay! What more does he want?” “He’s just trying to extort more money! Fine, now he gets nothing! Let’s see how long he can hold out!” Lily’s homeroom teacher called to blame me for making things difficult. “If you continue this unreasonable behavior, we’ll have no choice but to expel your daughter. We can’t have our school’s reputation damaged by this.” “You can’t be so selfish. No wonder your daughter has problems. She has no sense of community spirit. How will she ever fit in?” “Do you have any idea how long the principal yelled at me today? If you want to blackmail these families for more money, fine, but don’t drag me into it! My performance review is this year! If this messes it up, I’m holding you responsible!” “And besides,” he added, his voice dripping with disdain, “it was just a little fight. Does she have to be so dramatic?” I hung up, unwilling to listen to another word. After hearing I wouldn’t settle, Madison’s father began calling me nonstop. “I’m a lawyer! I have connections you can’t even imagine! You think I can’t find out every dirty little secret about you with one phone call? I’ll have you crucified online!” I knew he probably could. But what did it matter anymore? I blocked his number. In their sprawling mansion, Madison’s parents sat on a velvet sofa, staring at the red exclamation point on their screen. Furious, Madison’s father picked up his phone and dialed a number. “I want everything you can find on Lily’s parents. Everything.” A short while later, his phone rang. “Mr. King, we found it.” “Ethan’s parents filed for divorce seven days ago. The father, Ethan, voluntarily gave up all marital assets. He also quit his job the next day. For the past week, his routine has been the same: morning runs with a weighted vest, and afternoons at a shooting range.” The voice on the other end hesitated. “There’s more, sir. This man… Ethan… he previously killed three people. He spent ten years in a state psychiatric hospital.” “Divorce? Quit his job? Shooting range? Psychiatric…?” Mr. King’s hand went limp. The glass of water he was holding slipped and shattered on the marble floor. “He… he’s really mentally ill?”

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Six years later, I reunited with my ex, Alex. It happened outside a Dairy Queen. I was squatting by the door, trying to beat the heat, when I saw him rushing by. I grabbed his arm. “Buy one get one free Blizzard. Wanna split?” He lowered his phone, his gaze sweeping over the “Couple’s Special” banner. “Oh,” I said, realizing. “So, back together?” Alex narrowed his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. “Sure. But let’s keep it low-key.” “I’m keeping a canary in a gilded cage recently. She gets jealous easily.” I froze. He turned around. “By the way, pack the ice cream to go. She loves it.” 1 Before I could react, the cashier had already packed two Blizzards with a beaming smile. “You two look great together! Wishing you a lifetime of happiness!” Alex showed no emotion. He took his share and walked away. His Rolls-Royce was parked by the curb. It was scorching hot. I squatted by the entrance of a fruit shop to steal some AC, licking my melting ice cream. Before he left, he looked at me with a half-smile. “Girlfriend, need a ride?” I glanced at his passenger seat. Pink cushions, cute plushies. Marked territory. Every inch of it screaming ownership. “No thanks,” I said slowly. “My place is close…” Before I could finish, he sped off, leaving me in a cloud of dust. “Hey, don’t block the door!” “Ah, sorry.” My legs were numb from squatting. I stood up too fast, and the Blizzard slipped from my hand, splattering onto the pavement. Damn. What a waste. I traded a boyfriend for this? I smacked my lips in disappointment and turned to walk home. My rental apartment was simple and clean. I quietly took down an old photo from the wall. High school sweethearts. The boy in the photo had eyes curved in laughter, a brilliant smile, holding the girl’s hand like it was a treasure. In contrast, the girl was expressionless, cold. I stared at it for a moment, then threw it in the trash. Tsk. I looked so miserable back then. No wonder he dumped me. “Meow.” The stray calico I picked up rubbed against my leg. I opened a can of wet food for it. Buy one get three free at the supermarket yesterday. Being poor makes you stingy. Missing a deal feels like physical pain. I kinda regretted not asking for a breakup fee back then. Just then, a strange number called. I picked up. It was Alex. His voice was still cold. “We’re back together, aren’t we? Add me back on WeChat.” “Don’t you know calling is a hassle?” I mumbled an “Oh.” Before I could say anything else, a girl’s spoiled voice came through the line. “Mr. Shen, I’m hungry…” He hung up immediately. Beep. Beep. Beep. Actually, the “back together” thing was a joke… I wanted to tell him to forget it. But remembering the voice on the other end, I couldn’t bring myself to call back. I searched for his WeChat ID. Account deleted. Phone number, disconnected. I lay on my bed, clutching my phone. Alex forgot. He was the one who deleted me six years ago. 2 I remembered his old number and added him. He accepted quickly but didn’t say a word for a long time. I quietly scrolled through the six years he was gone. His feed was silent, monotonous. Until last year. A girl in a red dress appeared, full of life, reminding me of him from before. From that day on, Alex posted more. His smiles weren’t as radiant as before, but they were filled with a quiet happiness. I was dazed. Halfway through scrolling, the screen went blank. He must have remembered. He blocked me. I slowly finished my instant noodles. Thrown the phone aside, wrapped myself in the quilt. Sleepless all night. For the next few days, we both acted like nothing happened. I prepped lessons, went to school, fed the cat. A two-point line. He was busy with his company, international negotiations. Occasionally, I saw him on TV. Alex Shen, the new tech tycoon, rising alone, swallowing company after company. My friend, Linda, sometimes brought groceries to visit. We’d sit on the sofa, eating watermelon and watching the news. His success made many socialites restless, throwing olive branches his way. “Mr. Shen, you’ve rejected all marriage proposals. May I ask why?” a bold reporter asked. Alex narrowed his eyes, composed and distant. Yet, a flicker of tenderness passed through his eyes. “I have a girlfriend.” Everyone guessed it was the girl in the mansion. Only Linda poked me, asking hesitantly. “You just said you got back together. Is he going to marry you?” “After all, his pursuit of you back then was legendary. The whole school knew.” I stared at the polite, cold man on the screen. I shook my head. I knocked on her head. “Idiot. Who gets a girlfriend over an ice cream?” Alex didn’t care about me at all. “I know, but he’s the Alex who loved you the most in the world!” She counted on her fingers. “Skipping class together, claw machines, first kiss.” “Every time you gave him a look, the icy school god would come wagging his tail.” The memories felt distant. “By the way, tell me the truth. Did you really cheat on him?” I hummed, shaking my head honestly. Linda fell silent, changing the subject. “It’s okay. Don’t be sad. We don’t need men.” I looked up, speaking slowly. “I was fine to begin with.” She choked, put on an apron, and went to cook. “Tsk. Knew you were heartless. Come help.” I thought things would continue as usual. Until one night, he texted me first. [Dinner tomorrow night?] [I’ll wait downstairs.] I saw the message after my shower. Right. Since the breakup six years ago. Maybe I got old and lazy. I stayed in this small apartment where we once lived together. I stared for a while before remembering to refuse. [No, I’m busy tomorrow.] His reply was brief. [I’ll wait three minutes.] Indifferent, distant, impatient. I remembered. He wasn’t the Alex who followed my every whim anymore. But I really didn’t want to eat this meal. I thought for a moment, typing. [Ah, sorry. I didn’t mean that. It’s just rare for ice cream to be on sale, and it was so hot…] [I only knew you on the street. Dragging a stranger to split the bill is weird. At least we used to date…] [Let’s just break up. Good for you, good for me, good for everyone.] The more I typed, the messier it got. I deleted everything. Sent one sentence. [That day I said getting back together was a joke. Sorry.] I waited with my phone for a while. He didn’t reply. I sighed. Those lingering feelings from six years ago… let’s just let them go. 3 I didn’t take it seriously. He probably couldn’t be bothered and blacklisted me again. But when I came back from class in the afternoon. I ran into Alex right at the gate. He leaned lazily against his car, attracting a crowd of girls. “It’s Alex Shen! He’s so handsome!” “Yeah, the top scorer from eight years ago!” Alex stared blankly at the sycamore trees on campus. I quietly tried to walk around him, but he called out. “Xu Mo.” “Long time no see. So you’ve been teaching at River City High all this time.” River City High was our alma mater. Teasing flashed in his eyes. “What? Nostalgic? Can’t let go?” I gave a dumb “Ah.” “Yeah, I can’t let go. They offered double the salary.” Alex’s face darkened. “Heh. You love money as much as ever.” He couldn’t read my expression. He opened the car door and got in. “Get in.” I said slowly. “I really don’t want to go…” Alex rolled down the window coolly. “Seafood boil is 50% off today.” I whispered without confidence. “Can we get takeout?” He looked like he was going to laugh from anger. “Whatever.” I hopped into the back seat. He changed cars today. A Porsche Cayenne. Looked rarely driven. No pink decorations in the passenger seat. Alex drove quietly. I leaned against the window, both of us silent. Honestly, I didn’t understand why he came. I said it was a joke. He didn’t seem like the type to pester. He glanced at me in the rearview mirror. Then he irritably pulled out a cigarette. My eyes flickered. I opened my mouth. He held the cigarette pack and accidentally hit a button. A cutesy, spoiled female voice rang out. “Dear Mr. Shen, are you in a bad mood again?” “Don’t smoke, okay? I’ll sing you a song.” “Two tigers, two tigers, run fast…” I froze. He froze too. He put the cigarette back instinctively. A smile rippled in his eyes, terrifyingly warm. Leaving me truly restless. We arrived quickly. A seafood stall by the sea. Alex went to order. I leaned on the railing, enjoying the breeze. A drunk fat guy walked up and put his hand on my shoulder. “Yo, beauty. Where’s your boyfriend?” I quietly pushed his hand away and moved further. He persisted. In the struggle, I met Alex’s gaze not far away. He watched quietly. Until some college guys stepped in to stop it. Alex slowly walked over. Maybe they knew him. The drunk sobered up instantly. “Mr. Shen, is she your woman? I just…” He smiled and patted the fat guy’s shoulder. “You bullying her has nothing to do with me.” I stared at him. He shrugged, eyes full of coldness. “What? I said we’re back together. I didn’t say I’d be good to you.” With that. Alex took the seafood and beer and walked away. 4 He leaned back in the wicker chair. I stood, refusing to sit. “Eat something first. The takeout bag won’t fit it all.” I finally felt something was weird and asked quietly. “Mr. Shen, did you see the message?” He looked at me calmly, speaking casually. “What message? I don’t have the leisure to stare at your chat box all day.” I still didn’t move. He got impatient. “Are you eating or not?” I looked down. These were my favorites. I was hungry. I reached out and tasted a skewer. The spice made tears flow instantly. “Cough, cough.” “Not good?” He scrutinized me brazenly. “Oh, I forgot. This is my preferred taste.” “I used to always accommodate your preference for mild broth. How about you compromise this time?” I stayed silent, rinsing it in my water cup. Still spicy. But besides that, fresh, tender meat. He squinted at me for a while, then raised his hand for the waiter. “Another round of everything on the table. Non-spicy.” He paused. “And a strawberry mousse.” I took out a wet wipe and said slowly. “No need. I want to go home.” Alex raised an eyebrow. “What? Feeling wronged already?” Actually, it was okay. Just the spice burning my stomach slowly reached my heart. Uncomfortable. Wanted to go home immediately. Too lazy to even pack leftovers. He stood up too, pushing the plates away. Lazily said, “Let’s go then. I’ll drive you.” I opened my mouth. Guessing my refusal, he added. “It’s ten miles to the city.” “You have no sense of direction. Want to walk until dawn?” Alex naturally took my hand. I struggled uncomfortably. As always, he gripped tighter. I couldn’t break free, so I gave up. Before leaving. I took out my phone to take a picture, wanting to share the hidden gem with Linda. Alex, who was spacing out, suddenly reached out. Slapped my phone away. “Don’t take pictures!” His voice was loud, attracting attention. Everyone looked over. He said coldly, “If she sees the photo, I have ways to ruin you.” I froze. It took a moment to react. The phone hit the ground. Screen shattered. I bent down to pick it up, wiping off the dust. Pity. It was a new phone. I said slowly. “I didn’t want to take a photo with you. Or post it online.” “I just thought the food was good and wanted to come back with a friend.” Alex’s eyes flashed with guilt, then turned cold again. He pursed his lips. “I’ll buy you a new one.” “Yours was old anyway. Last year’s model.” I shook my head silently. “No. There’s no reason for you to buy me things.” “I’ll call a friend to pick me up. Mr. Shen, help yourself.” Alex narrowed his eyes, sneering as he grabbed my wrist. “No reason? Didn’t you beg me to get back together?” I realized belatedly and let out an “Ah.” I held up my phone. “Didn’t you read the message I sent? I was really just joking.” “What are you talking about?” He frowned, opening his phone. My messages were set to “Do Not Disturb.” Who did it was obvious. I apologized. “Sorry. I just wanted to split the bill. If I caused a misunderstanding, I’m really sorry…” “Xu Mo!” He interrupted me with a dark face. Almost gritting his teeth. “So, it was just for an ice cream?” I blinked blankly. “Yeah.” “…Fine. Xu Mo. Good job.” He laughed coldly. Kicked the tree next to him hard. Sycamore leaves fell like rain. Covering me. “Do you know? Every time I see that indifferent look on your face, I want to strangle you.” He seemed to finally lose his temper. “Who else would want a patient with emotional detachment disorder like you, except me?” “Don’t regret it.” Alex left coldly. I stood there. Passersby looked at me strangely, whispering. “So she’s emotionally detached. Can’t love.” “Poor boyfriend. Putting up with a selfish, cold partner. No wonder he’s mad.” “Please, can these people not date and ruin others’ lives? Go to a mental hospital…” I lowered my head. Alex was angry again. The breakup six years ago was still vivid. He was angry and pleading then too. “Xu Mo, why do you never say you love me!” “Say it! Why am I always the proactive one? Why do you always seem not to care about me!” “Did you want to break up long ago?” He smashed his fist on the table. Loud and hoarse. People everywhere. Glass cut his hand, staining it red. His eyes were red too. I was truly scared stupid. I didn’t know how to respond. Seeing him like that, I was terrified. Childhood memories flooded back. I covered my ears and screamed. “Then let’s break up.” With that sentence, everything finally returned to calm. But later, even though I took a lot of medicine, it didn’t work. When I went to find him again, he had a new lover. Someone who knew how to love him. It started drizzling. I lied. No one was coming to pick me up. I quietly knocked on the clinic next door. “Doctor, can emotional detachment be cured?” A man in a white coat was leaning against the door. He glanced at me and drawled. “Find me and it’s guaranteed. Just learn three sentences from me.” I widened my eyes. He coughed. “First sentence: I love you.” Me: “???” I looked closely at the man. Pale skin, tall and slender, hands in his coat pockets. Cold features, but eyes bright as stars. Shiny and gentle. I was dazed. Too beautiful. I was afraid I walked into a host club…

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They dragged me into their nightmare, the fake princess and her court, and left me to be savaged by the wolves. They thought I was just another victim. What they didn’t know is that in this kingdom of monsters, I am the true heir. And when the monsters saw I had returned, my real family went wild. The Scarlet Matron, her nurse’s uniform crisp and white: “My sweet girl, who did this to you? Tell Auntie. Auntie will make it right.” The hulking Butcher, wiping his cleaver on his apron: “Point them out. Uncle will make you a present of their limbs.” The little Ghost Child, her eyes wide and black: “People are so scary, big sister. Should I turn them into dolls for you?” And then, the final boss, my father: “Anyone who harmed my daughter… not a single one leaves.” What can I say? It’s good to be the favorite. It feels… exhilarating. 1 The floor was a slick paste of rotted meat. The air, thick and metallic with the stench of blood. Down the long, dark corridor, the only light came from the sickly green glow of the emergency lamps on the wall. It was all so familiar. I looked away from the scene and focused on the woman standing before me. The player chat flickering in the corner of my vision filled me in. It was Serena, the family’s golden girl, the one who’d taken my place, who had dragged me into this hell. She stood with her arms crossed, looking down at me as if from a great height. “Did you hear me, my dear sister?” she said, her voice dripping with venom. “If you want to live, you do exactly as I say from now on.” A few of her cronies chimed in. “This isn’t a game, newbie. You screw up, you die.” “Just listen to Serena. She’s your sister, after all. We’ll even try to look out for you.” “Hey! She’s talking to you! What are you, deaf or just stupid? Answer her!” A hard shove sent me stumbling. I fell to the floor, my hand instinctively going to my ankle. I forced my body to tremble. Their laughter echoed in the corridor. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Scared already? You haven’t seen anything yet.” “How is this weakling supposed to do us any good?” “Serena, maybe we should test her. If she’s useless, we ditch her now. Better than having her drag us down later.” Serena’s chin was high, her expression imperious. She pointed a perfectly manicured finger toward a heavy, locked door at the end of the hall. “They have a point. This is for your own good, Alice. You have to prove you’re worth keeping around. Now go. Open that door.” The chat feed exploded. 【Newbie’s screwed. The Scarlet Matron’s ward on the first run? Talk about bad luck.】 【Blame Serena. That’s a bitch move, sending a level-one player in first.】 【The Matron hates having her routine disturbed. That new girl is too pretty to die like this. Don’t do it! The second you open that door, she’ll split you in two!】 【Go for it! I love watching the Matron work. A true artist.】 【Look at the newbie, she’s shaking so hard she can barely stand.】 … Serena kicked my leg. “Alice, get moving!” “Still think you’re Daddy’s little princess? In here, you’re nothing!” “The clue we need is in that room. Now open the goddamn door!” With all eyes on me, I slowly, deliberately, pushed myself to my feet. I kept my head down, letting the tremors run through me. It wasn’t fear. It was a thrill, a tremor of homecoming. I walked toward the door, which pulsed with a strange, crimson mist. I raised my hand. And I knocked. “Auntie Rose? It’s me. I’m home.” 2 The corridor fell deathly silent. Serena and her crew tensed, weapons ready. The chat feed went haywire. 【LMAO! Did she just KNOCK? Is this newbie insane?!】 【Shame. Such a pretty face, about to be split in half.】 【She must have snapped from the fear. Poor thing.】 Then, the red mist swirled and dissipated. The office door creaked open just a crack. Two long, unnaturally pale hands shot out, yanking me inside with impossible speed. The Scarlet Matron’s mouth, painted a gruesome, bloody red, stretched into a horrifyingly wide grin. A shriek tore through the air, a sound of pure, loving rage. “My sweet girl! What in the nine hells are you doing here?!” “We sent you away! We got you out!” “Dammit all! After all our work to get you to safety, who brought you back?!” She cradled my face in her cold hands. “You just tell Auntie who it was. I’ll carve them into eight perfect little pieces for you. A little welcome home snack.” The chat was a waterfall of question marks. 【?】 【??】 【Wait, what is happening?!】 3 It seemed even the all-knowing player base was in the dark. I wasn’t just a player. I was a product of this place. My father is the final boss of this entire twisted reality. It took him thousands of years to find a loophole in the game’s code, a glitch that allowed for my creation. Serena thought she had pulled the real Alice Walker into the game. But the real Alice was long dead. She had taken her own life months ago. I was the entity that found her empty body, a perfect vessel. Once I had settled in, my father and all my aunts and uncles—the monsters of this realm—pooled their power to push me out, to give me a life in the world beyond the screen. I’d only had a few weeks of sun and quiet. I never expected Serena, stewing in her hatred for the sister she’d tormented, would use a high-level summoning card to drag “me” back. All that effort, wasted. Getting me out of here had been a massive undertaking, the collective hope of every creature in this dimension. No wonder Auntie Rose was so furious. Looking at her screaming face, I reached up and gently pushed her gaping mouth closed. “I can see your tonsils, Auntie Rose. It’s hardly elegant.” Her lips snapped shut into a serene, if terrifying, smile. Through clenched teeth, she hissed, “Explain. Now.” The chat was listening in. 【What is going on?! Auntie Rose, you’ve changed! You weren’t like this on my playthrough!】 【Where’s your scythe? Why haven’t you killed her?!】 【My brain is broken. I have never, ever seen anything like this.】 【Is she using some kind of item? A ‘Monster Affinity’ charm?】 I wondered if any of the other players had an item that let them read private conversations. Best to be careful. I just shook my head, keeping it vague. “See that girl out there with the short hair? She did it.” It was a nonsense sentence to the players, but Auntie Rose understood perfectly. “Her? Did she hurt you?” Her cold gaze flickered down to my ankle. “Your foot is injured.” A roll of bandages and a vial of painkiller appeared in her hand. The bandages looked like they’d been soaked in old blood, but I knew it for what it was: a gesture of pure affection. A noise came from the hallway. Serena’s voice, faint but clear. “You go first. I’ll cover you from behind.” “Hurry up!” Auntie Rose gave me a look. A promise. “Don’t you worry, sweet girl. Auntie’s got your back.” I gave her my sweetest smile. “Thanks, Auntie Rose.” 4 With that, Auntie Rose picked up her massive crimson scythe and glided gracefully toward the door. She smoothed the front of her pristine white dress. The moment the door was pushed open and the first person stepped through, she swung the scythe in a high, elegant arc. In a flash, the player was cleaved in two. Blood atomized, hanging in the air like a red fog before splattering the walls. The two halves of the body slumped to the ground without a sound. I recognized her. It was the girl who’d called me deaf. 【Now that’s the Scarlet Matron I know and love!】 【That’s the stuff. One clean slice. So satisfying.】 【Damn, this newbie has nerves of steel. She didn’t even flinch.】 【Oh, they broke the rules. The hunt is on!】 A system notification popped up for all to see. Game Rule: The office contains a clue to proceed. However, the Scarlet Matron despises uninvited guests. Forcing her door open will result in… consequences. The rule had been broken. Serena’s team scattered, screaming. Auntie Rose smiled back at me. “Time for work, sweet girl. You make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back to check on you when I’m done.” “Okay!” I expertly wrapped my ankle. Glancing at the jars on her desk filled with severed fingers and other grisly specimens, I flopped down on her surprisingly fragrant bed and opened a simple puzzle game on my phone. The chat was just question marks again. 【???】 【This can’t be right.】 From the frantic messages, I gathered that Serena and a few others had used a rare escape item to vanish just in the nick of time. When Auntie Rose returned, the hem of her dress was soaked in fresh blood. Even her pale, powdered cheeks were dotted with crimson specks. “I took care of them for you, my sweet girl. Though I’m sorry to say the short-haired one got away…” I cut her off. “It’s okay, Auntie Rose. It just means we get to play with her a little longer.” A slow smile spread across my face. “I do so love playing the helpless little lamb.” After so much time trying to be a law-abiding citizen in the outside world, I could feel the dormant cruelty inside me starting to stir. The chat feed froze for a few seconds. Then, it completely lost its mind. 【HOLY SHIT, PEOPLE! WE’VE GOT AN INSIDE JOB!】

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