Category: English

Brooke Vance, the intern at my company, did something to my bank account. No matter how much money I deposited, my balance always magically reset to five dollars. In my past life, my biggest dream was to buy a starter condo near the office. I worked myself to the bone until I finally saved up $50,000 for the down payment. But when the realtor ran my card, she looked at me pityingly and told me it was declined. I checked my transaction history, argued with the bank, and even called the cops. But everyone treated me like a lunatic. Because on paper, my bank statements showed every single transaction clearly. But I knew I hadn’t spent a single penny of that money! I was living on ramen and cheap coffee! Sobbing, I called my parents. Instead of comfort, I got a harsh lecture. “Chloe, are you seriously making up excuses for blowing your paycheck?” my mom snapped. “Do you think we’re stupid? If you want money from us, just ask. There’s no need to make up such a ridiculous lie.” I tried telling my coworkers, hoping for some support. But after looking at my leaked bank statement, a few toxic male colleagues started smirking. “Wow, Chloe. Spending thousands of dollars at VIP nightclubs at 2 AM? I guess we now know how much those hot male models cost per night.” No matter how much I explained, no one believed me. Desperate, I posted my story anonymously online. The internet tore me apart, accusing me of making up a wild story just to get clout and sell products. Only one random user left a helpful comment: *Check your surroundings. See if anyone close to you has a spending history that perfectly matches your missing funds.* I started watching people closely. And that was when I noticed Brooke, our new intern. Every time she bought something, an alert for the exact same amount would pop up on my phone, deducting money from my account. Even when she ordered a Starbucks drink, my phone buzzed instantly. Once I was sure, I confronted her directly. Brooke just laughed in my face. She claimed I was a reckless spender who couldn’t manage her own money and was now trying to frame her. She said I was losing my mind. She even rallied our coworkers against me, gaslighting them into thinking I was dangerous, and had me forcibly committed to a psychiatric facility. I was trapped in that hellhole for two torturous years. Unable to take the abuse any longer, I finally found a chance to escape and threw myself into the freezing river. But when I opened my eyes again… I was back. I had returned to the exact day before I was supposed to sign my condo contract. *** My first instinct after waking up was to open my banking app and check my balance. Sure enough, it was exactly five dollars. I quickly forced myself to calm down and think. Right now, all my hard-earned savings had already been transferred to Brooke’s account through whatever sick method she was using. I wanted to drag her to hell with me right then and there. But then I remembered how my parents looked in my past life after I died—their hair turning white overnight from grief. I instantly regretted my impulsiveness. If I acted blindly like last time, I would only ruin myself again. Just then, my manager, Sarah, called me over to her desk. “Chloe, this new client is a total pain in the ass, but the commission is five grand! I’m doing you a huge favor by giving this to you, okay?” My throat tightened. I swallowed hard. Five thousand dollars. That was enough to cover my rent for a month and leave me with a huge chunk of change. But I shook my head. “Thank you, Sarah. But I’m taking a break from taking new clients for the next month.” Ignoring Sarah’s shocked expression, I turned and walked out of her glass office. Because the office walls were thin, everyone outside had already heard us. Immediately, whispers erupted. “Chloe Higgins is the top sales representative in the whole company. She’s literally a machine. Did she just turn down a client?” “Not just today. Didn’t you hear her? She’s taking a whole month off!” Ignoring the gossip, I pulled out my phone, opened a food delivery app, and ordered a venti iced Americano. The purchase instantly drained the remaining five dollars from my account. In my past life, I wouldn’t even spend two dollars on a gas station coffee. To survive and get a foothold in this ridiculously expensive city, I had worked myself to death. I used to stay up until 3 AM following up with clients. I woke up before dawn and squeezed onto the packed subway like a canned sardine for two hours just to clock in on time. One minute late meant a fifty-dollar penalty. That was my grocery budget for an entire week. My only dream was to own a tiny 300-square-foot studio apartment near the office. Every month, I only kept three hundred dollars for basic survival. The rest went straight into my savings account. And to think, the fifty thousand dollars I had literally bled for had ended up in someone else’s pocket! Suddenly, the heavy glass doors of the office were pushed open. “Hey, everyone! Lunch is on me today!” Brooke’s loud, obnoxious voice echoed through the room. She practically glowed, strutting in with a brand-new Chanel handbag on her arm. She looked like a trashy lottery winner who had suddenly come into money. “We’re going to the Grand Hyatt! Order whatever you want!” The office erupted. Colleagues rushed over to surround her. “Brooke! Did you hit the jackpot or something?” “Did you find yourself a sugar daddy?” I didn’t move. I just held my coffee cup, staring at her with cold, dark eyes. Because I knew. Every single penny she was spending belonged to me. Brooke waved her hands, pretending to be modest. “Oh, come on, guys. It’s nothing like that. I just bought a random scratch-off ticket a couple of days ago and won a little prize.” One of the gossipy coworkers instantly nudged her. “How much did you win?” #### Chapter 2 Brooke glanced at me, a smug, self-satisfied smirk playing on her lips. “Not much,” she said casually, waving her hand. “Just a few hundred thousand.” A collective gasp echoed through the office. A few hundred thousand dollars was a life-changing amount for wage slaves like us. But I noticed that ever since Brooke stepped through the door, her eyes kept darting back to me. She was watching me. Like an scientist observing a lab rat. She wanted to see if I had realized my bank account was completely drained. I squeezed my coffee cup, forcing down the violent urge to scream at her. I couldn’t ruin my plan now. I had to play dumb. I stood up, putting on a perfect, slightly envious smile. “Wow, Brooke! Congratulations! You have to let me get some of that good luck.” Seeing my completely normal reaction, a flicker of surprise crossed Brooke’s eyes, followed by a subtle sigh of relief. She probably thought I was still clueless about my missing savings. As lunchtime approached, Mia, who sat at the desk next to mine, leaned over. “Chloe, didn’t you say you finally saved enough for your down payment? When are we going to look at the condo? I can go with you.” At the mention of the condo, my fists clenched so hard my fingernails dug into my palms. But I quickly forced my hands to relax and kept my face neutral. “No rush,” I said smoothly. “I actually lost my ID a couple of days ago, and the DMV is taking forever to mail the replacement. Plus, the housing market is cooling down. I think I’ll wait and see.” The moment the words left my mouth, I felt that burning gaze on me again. It was Brooke. She was staring, her eyes sparkling with a twisted, triumphant glee. Brooke was just an intern who had joined the company two months ago. She was slightly overweight, had a completely forgettable face, and was always at the bottom of the sales leaderboard. In a high-pressure, looks-conscious sales department like ours, she should have been at the very bottom of the food chain. Yet, in my past life, she took my fifty thousand dollars, got full-body liposuction, and paid for extensive plastic surgery. Overnight, she transformed herself into a gorgeous, wealthy IT-girl. She used my money to buy everyone’s loyalty, hired a few male coworkers, and had me thrown into a psych ward under the guise of me having a “mental breakdown.” Remembering the agonizing two years in that place, I took a deep breath to calm my racing heart. At noon, Brooke took us to the Grand Hyatt. She grandly gestured for us to order whatever we wanted. I didn’t hesitate. I flipped the menu directly to the most expensive pages. “The king crab, the largest one you have,” I told the waiter. “The bluefin tuna sashimi platter.” “The pan-seared foie gras.” “And let’s add the premium caviar service.” With every dish I ordered, the faces of my coworkers grew more and more shocked. Mia pulled my sleeve, whispering, “Chloe… isn’t this a bit too much? It’s so expensive.” I just smiled at her and said nothing. It was my own money. How could spending it be a waste? Brooke’s cheek twitched violently. But with everyone watching, she had to keep up her generous persona. “It’s fine! Chloe is our top sales rep, after all. She works so hard. She deserves to treat herself.” She smiled brightly, though her eyes were cold. “Besides, you need to eat up so you can close more deals for our department!” Before I could answer, another colleague chimed in. “Oh, Brooke, you weren’t here this morning. Chloe told Sarah she’s taking a break from taking new clients for the next month.” The air in the private dining room suddenly went dead silent. I slowly wiped my mouth with a linen napkin and looked up at Brooke. The smile on her face froze, cracking bit by bit. “What did you say?” She stared at me, her voice suddenly sharp and high-pitched. “Chloe, why would you stop taking clients?” “What is wrong with you?” #### Chapter 3 I met Brooke’s furious stare and let my lips curl into a slow smile. “I’m taking a break. Why are you so worked up about it?” The surrounding coworkers exchanged looks, their eyes burning with sudden curiosity. “Yeah, Brooke,” Mia couldn’t help but say. “Even Chloe isn’t stressed about it. Why are you reacting like this?” “Right? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were the one losing out on commission.” The quiet murmurs acted like a bucket of ice water, snapping Brooke back to reality. The ugly distortion on her face vanished, replaced by an expression of deep, exaggerated concern. “I… I’m just worried about Chloe!” She raised her voice, trying to sound as sincere as possible. “Didn’t she say she was just a few deals away from securing her down payment? The units at West End Luxury are so hard to get. If she stops now, she’s going to lose out on so much cash! I just feel bad for her!” She looked almost on the verge of tears. It was a flawless performance. I chuckled. “I’m just tired. I want to rest.” I casually picked up a lobster claw and began cracking it open. “Besides,” I paused, looking up at her with an innocent expression, “didn’t you just win the lottery? A few hundred thousand dollars, right? If I’m actually short on my down payment… surely you wouldn’t mind lending me some, right?” The room went dead silent again. All eyes instantly locked onto Brooke. The color completely drained from her face. Her lips trembled, but she couldn’t squeeze out a single word. I took a bite of the lobster meat and added playfully, “Our generous Brooke would definitely help a friend out, right?” Cornered by everyone’s expectant stares, she was practically roasting on an open fire. Finally, she managed to squeak out a few words. “O-Of course I would.” Terrified that I would actually make her sign a loan agreement right there, she quickly added, “But, you know, it wasn’t *that* much after taxes. Just… pocket money, really.” I looked at her brand-new Celine dress, the limited-edition Chanel bag sitting next to her, and the table full of food that cost more than a normal person’s monthly rent. Yeah, right. My fifty thousand dollars really wouldn’t last her very long at this rate. I thoroughly enjoyed the meal. Before leaving, I called the waiter over and asked him to pack up the untouched king crab and lobster. A few coworkers started whispering behind my back. “Oh my god, packing up leftovers at a fancy lunch? That is so tacky.” “Seriously. She’s acting like she’s never eaten food before. How embarrassing.” I heard them, but I didn’t care. I just looked at Brooke with a bright smile. “Brooke, you spent so much money. It’d be such a waste to leave this delicious food behind. You don’t mind if I take it home, right?” Brooke’s face went through three different shades of purple. But under the gaze of the entire office, she could only nod through gritted teeth. “I… I don’t mind.” Back at the office, I casually placed the takeout boxes in the shared fridge, completely ignoring the judgmental looks from everyone else. That afternoon, I walked into the finance office. “Brenda, I need to request a cash advance on my commission.” Brenda looked up from her computer. “Company policy says you need the manager’s signature, and payments are usually direct-deposited at the end of the month.” I handed her a pre-signed form I had prepared. “Sarah already approved it.” “And I don’t want a bank transfer.” “I need it in cash.” If keeping money in my bank account meant it would be magically siphoned away, then I would just keep physical cash. Let’s see how she steals that. An hour later, I walked back to my desk with a thick envelope of cash. It was my base salary plus my commission from last month—fifteen thousand dollars. I slipped the envelope into the deepest, zippered compartment of my bag. In my past life, my nightmare had started with that fifty thousand dollars. In this life, I would claw my way back starting with this fifteen thousand. But before my seat could even get warm—not even five minutes later— My right eyelid began to twitch violently. Twitch. Twitch. Twitch. It grew more intense with every passing second. A sudden, overwhelming sense of dread gripped my heart. I quickly unzipped my bag and reached into the hidden compartment— Empty! The paper envelope was still there, but the thick stack of bills was completely gone! My blood ran cold. The hairs on my arms stood on end. I hadn’t expected Brooke’s account-linking trick to be so absolute. Was she trying to cut off my every means of survival? I looked over at Brooke’s desk. Sure enough, a smug, subtle grin played on her face. I clenched my fists. Fortunately, I had already anticipated this and had a backup plan!

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When I was seven months pregnant, I decided to go to a local boutique to pick out some baby supplies. Peering through the shelves, I froze. Across the aisle, my husband was leaning down, gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind a strange woman’s ear. “Oh, you recognize Mr. and Mrs. Vance too?” The sales associate asked casually, her head down as she scanned the prices of the items in my cart. “Honestly, who doesn’t envy Victoria? They’ve been married for three years, and Ethan has never had a single scandal. He’s completely devoted.” “They were childhood sweethearts, and now they have a boy and a girl. They’re the ultimate power couple.” I gripped the edge of the counter, my knuckles turning white. A boy and a girl? Power couple? But the “Ethan Vance” she was talking about was supposed to be my husband—the ordinary, sweet guy who told me his parents died years ago! Seeing my pale face, the sales associate gave me a suspicious look. “Do you know Ethan?” She looked me up and down, her eyes lingering on my cheap maternity dress. A flash of contempt crossed her face. “If you have any dirty ideas, I suggest you forget them.” “Ethan is a respectable man. He wouldn’t even glance at a woman like you.” She shoved past me, making me stumble. I instinctively covered my belly, panicking. Then, I heard her whisper to another coworker, laughing mockingly. “Look at her. She’s practically drooling over Ethan. Probably trying to be some rich guy’s side chick.” “With a belly like that, I bet she doesn’t even know who the real father is.” A side chick? I stood there, paralyzed, unable to defend myself. Just this morning, before he left for work, he had kissed me gently on the forehead. He told me his company was swamped with meetings and told me to rest at home. But could two people really look so identical? Down to the tiny scar at the corner of his left eye? Ethan Miller told me he got that scar from a fall when he was a kid. If he already had a family, a wife, and children… Why did he court me? Why did he marry me? Why did he turn me into the trashy, cheap side chick in everyone else’s eyes? I wanted to run after him and demand the truth. I had told him about my past. I told him my mother committed suicide by jumping off a building because she believed the sweet lies of a wealthy heir and ended up as his hidden mistress. I, Evelyn, would rather marry a beggar than ever become someone’s mistress. Why did he lie to me? Suddenly, a wave of dizziness hit me. I tripped over something on the floor and nearly fell. Hearing the commotion, Ethan turned around. His eyes widened when he saw me, and he rushed over. “Evelyn! Oh my god, are you okay? Why are you out here alone?” His eyes were filled with genuine panic, and he held me close, whispering comfort. But the expensive charcoal suit he was wearing was not the cheap office wear he had on when he left our apartment this morning. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m taking you to the hospital right now.” I grabbed his wrist, my voice cracking with tears. “Ethan… are you hiding something from me?” At my words, panic flashed through his eyes. “Babe, what are you talking about?” “Did someone say something to you?” His eyes darted around, but he quickly composed himself. “That woman… Victoria, she’s just a friend. We ran into each other and were just catching up.” “I didn’t think you’d see us. I should have been more careful. I’m sorry I caused a misunderstanding.” “I promise, I will never let something like this happen again.” Ethan spoke with such sincerity, his gaze steady and clear. I looked past his shoulder. Victoria stood there calmly, showing no intention of arguing. If they were really husband and wife, she wouldn’t just stand there in silence, right? Before I could think further, Ethan scooped me up in his arms and rushed toward the hospital. In his arms, my mind drifted back to the first time we met. He had held me just like this. Back then, my mother had just jumped to her death, and my greedy uncle was trying to sell me off to a sixty-year-old slumlord to pay his debts. I had run away, bruised and terrified. Ethan was the one who saved me from the streets, took me to the hospital, and gave me a place to stay. He told me he was an orphan, that his greedy relatives had stolen his inheritance, and that he was struggling to make a living on his own. We fell in love in our tiny, cramped rented apartment, leaning on each other for survival. Even though he was broke, he was incredibly refined and eventually got a decent job at a corporation. I had my doubts back then, but I loved him too much to dig deeper. Until the day he knelt on the worn-out carpet with a simple silver ring. “I swear to God, Evelyn, I will cherish you for the rest of my life.” He took care of all our marriage paperwork alone. After we got married, he handed his entire paycheck over to me. Every time he came home from a business trip, he brought me little gifts—a cheap necklace, some pastries, or a bouquet of wildflowers. He loved me so passionately. How could it all be a lie? At the hospital, the doctor reviewed my ultrasound and wrote a prescription for some prenatal vitamins. He smiled at the anxious Ethan. “Both mother and baby are fine. Just make sure she gets plenty of bed rest.” Ethan let out a long, shaky breath and gently stroked my belly. “Thank God you two are okay.” He knelt by my bedside, placing his cheek against my stomach, whispering softly, “Little one, be good. Don’t stress your mommy out.” I saw tears glistening in the corners of his eyes. Ethan had been nothing but good to me. He was my savior. I convinced myself that the sales associate must have made a mistake. Maybe Victoria was just a client, and the girl got confused. I shouldn’t doubt him. With a lighter heart, I went home to rest. But the very next morning, right after Ethan left for “work,” our front door was violently kicked open. I rushed to the living room, only to see Victoria standing there with a dozen burly men in black suits.

Faced with so many intimidating strangers, my heart hammered against my ribs. The nanny Ethan had hired to look after me shrank behind my back, trembling. I forced myself to stand tall. “Victoria, we don’t know each other. What is the meaning of this?” The gentle, elegant woman from yesterday was gone. Now, her eyes were dripping with cold disdain. She sneered, and her personal assistant immediately stepped forward, pointing a finger at my face. “You shameless bitch, how dare you ask? Our mistress is being generous enough to bring you back to the estate to have your baby.” I had no idea what she was talking about, so I tried to reject her politely. “I appreciate the offer, but we are strangers. I have no intention of moving into your house.” “Besides, I’m pregnant and it’s not safe for me to move right now. Please leave.” The moment the words left my mouth, the assistant slapped me hard across the face. “You home-wrecking whore! Always using the baby as an excuse to stress our mistress out!” “Victoria is the only legal Mrs. Vance. Your bastard child will just be an illegitimate mistake. Don’t think you can use it to climb the social ladder.” I stumbled backward, clutching my burning cheek. Luckily, the nanny caught me before I hit the floor. Victoria watched my struggle with a mocking smile. She walked over slowly, using the tip of her designer umbrella to lift my chin. “How pathetic. Has Ethan still not told you the truth?” “Then let me tell you. I am Ethan Vance’s real, legal wife.” She told me Ethan Miller was actually Ethan Vance, the sole heir to the multi-billion-dollar Vance empire. And she was Victoria Sterling, the youngest daughter of the powerful Sterling family. Their marriage was an arranged alliance, a match made in high-society heaven. She spoke so casually, but my heart shattered into a million pieces. Every strange detail, every inconsistency in Ethan’s story over the past year, suddenly made perfect, horrible sense. But no matter what, I couldn’t go with her. I, Evelyn, had my pride. If Ethan had really lied to me, I would rather abort this baby and run away again than stay and be humiliated. I screamed, “I don’t believe you! I want to hear it from him!” “If you’re really his wife, why are you afraid to let me confront him?” Victoria didn’t answer. A flicker of annoyance passed through her eyes, and she barked an order to her guards. “Tie her up and drag her to the car!” Seeing the guards close in, I screamed toward the open door, hoping the neighbors in the hallway would help. “Help! Please! I don’t know these people!” “Please call the police! Or call my husband!” But the neighbors, who were usually so friendly, only watched coldly from their doorways. They looked at me with disgust and muttered among themselves. “I knew she looked too trashy to live here. Turns out she’s just a sugar baby.” “And to think I helped her carry her groceries. How disgusting.” “Victoria is being too nice. If I were her, I’d have this home-wrecker beaten to death.” The heavy guards pinned me to the floor. Listening to the cruel whispers of the crowd, a wave of intense shame washed over me. I yelled at them desperately, “You all saw us! You saw Ethan and me! We had a small wedding in the courtyard!” “My husband is an orphan! He’s not some billionaire!” But no one cared. “A wedding? Please, what kind of respectable man gets married with just a backyard barbecue and no family?” “We all knew that guy looked too wealthy to be a regular office worker. You lived with him and didn’t notice? Stop playing the victim.” “You’re just a kept woman, sweetie. Don’t lie to yourself.” My body went cold. If all of his love was a lie, what was I? Just then, through the hallway window, I saw a familiar face walking into the courtyard below. It was Julian Bennett, Ethan’s coworker. He had been to our apartment for drinks. He had called me “Evelyn” and “sister-in-law.” He could prove my innocence!

I struggled against the guards, using every ounce of my strength to yell out the window. “Julian! Julian! Help me!” Julian looked up, shocked. “Evelyn? What the hell is going on?” He ran up the stairs and yelled at the guards holding me down. “Hey! Let her go!” “What do you think you’re doing to a pregnant woman in broad daylight?” I let out a sob of relief. “Julian knows me. He can prove who I am!” I glared at Victoria. “Even if you are a Vance, you have no right to kidnap me! Let me go!” But Victoria didn’t flinch. She smiled warmly at Julian. “Julian, what did you just call her?” “Since when does Ethan have another wife that I don’t know about?” Seeing Victoria’s face, Julian’s expression instantly changed. All his anger vanished, replaced by pale terror. “Mrs. Vance… I didn’t realize it was you.” He quickly stepped closer to Victoria, lowering his voice. “Why waste your time with someone like her?” My heart plunged into a freezing abyss. Ethan Vance… did you really plan all of this? Did you lie to me from the very start? Julian continued to whisper to Victoria, his tone submissive. “She’s just a plaything Ethan kept on the side. You shouldn’t lower yourself to deal with her.” “If Ethan really cared about her, he wouldn’t leave her in a cheap apartment like this without even a single guard, right?” He pointed to our nanny, who was crying in the corner. “If you just ignore her, Ethan will appreciate your grace. There’s no need to ruin your reputation over a side chick.” I ignored his insults and demanded with a shaking voice, “Is Ethan Miller actually Ethan Vance? Is he married to her?” Julian turned his face away, refusing to look me in the eye, and nodded slowly. Victoria laughed triumphantly. “Hear that? Now you know your place.” “A cheap mistress trying to act tough in front of me. Hilarious.” But I was not a weak girl who would just take this. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have survived my uncle’s abuse. I thrashed wildly, ignoring the pain in my belly. “I am not a mistress! Even if he is a Vance, I will not be his dirty secret!” “I want to ask him myself! If he lied to me, I will pack my bags and leave! I don’t want his money!” Victoria sneered. “Do you think I’m going to fall for your reverse-psychology tricks?” “Whether you like it or not, you’re coming to the Vance estate today. If you won’t walk, my men will carry your body.” She waved her hand, and the guards threw a heavy black coat over my head. Julian quickly warned, “Careful, she’s carrying Ethan’s child.” Victoria hesitated for a second, then ordered, “Tie her hands and put her in the car.” I tried to scream for help, but a rough hand shoved a cloth into my mouth. Tears streamed down my face. My heart was completely dead.

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In the middle of the night, I was dragged into the police precinct. Hailey Ward, my intern, was sitting there shivering, wrapped in a man’s oversized jacket. The moment she saw me, she pointed a shaking finger right at my nose and screamed, “It’s him… It was her husband! He assaulted me! He ruined my life! I want him in prison for the rest of his miserable life!” The detectives in the room turned to look at me, their eyes filled with utter disgust. I stood there, completely frozen. I’m twenty-eight, single, and haven’t been in a relationship in years. Where the hell did I get a husband? Before I could even open my mouth to explain, another officer burst into the room. “Detective Miller, the rape kit results are back. We found male DNA on Hailey Ward. We’re rushing the DNA match through the database right now.” Hailey stumbled forward, trying to lunge at me. “Chloe Sterling! What do you have to say for yourself now? You enabled that psycho husband of yours. You both deserve to rot in hell!” A sudden realization hit me. I didn’t get angry. Instead, I calmly took a sip of water from the paper cup. Wait. On paper… I actually did have a husband. Except, he wasn’t human.

I set my cup down and looked at the detective in charge. “Check the public registry first.” Hailey’s sobbing stopped instantly. Detective Miller frowned. “What do you mean by that?” “I mean, I’ve never been married. I don’t even have a boyfriend.” Hailey immediately grabbed her phone and slammed a photo onto the metal desk. It was a screenshot of my emergency contact and employee info sheet. Under the marital status section, it clearly read: Married, with child. She glared at me, her eyes red. “Chloe, are you seriously still lying at a time like this? Everyone at the office knows you have a husband and a kid! You leave at exactly five every single day. You never join us for after-work Happy Hour, and you refuse any business trips that require staying overnight. Last month, when the boss asked you to stay for a dinner with clients, you said your husband had a massive temper. You said if you were even a minute late, he’d start throwing things.” Miller’s gaze turned cold again. “Ms. Sterling, I suggest you take this seriously. Harboring a fugitive and covering up a felony is a serious crime. You will face prison time.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a massive headache coming on. Who would have thought that the fake, toxic husband I made up just to escape working overtime would one day land me in a police station? Three years ago, during my interview, HR asked if I could handle frequent, last-minute traveling. I knew that single women in this industry were often treated as free, on-call labor. So, I casually lied and said I was married with a young toddler who needed me home. After I got the job, the boss loved calling “urgent” meetings ten minutes before clock-out time. To leave on time, I had to keep building my fake story. My husband had anger issues. My kid was sickly. My mother-in-law was a controlling freak. I even invented an eighty-year-old grandmother who lived with us and needed me to feed her dinner. Thanks to this completely imaginary, dysfunctional family, I managed to avoid every single useless corporate bonding event for three years. But now, karma was biting me in the ass. “Officer, I admit that the whole marriage and kid thing was a lie. You can check the official government database. The system doesn’t lie.” Hailey jumped up from her chair, hysterical. “So you’re saying I’m lying about being assaulted?! What girl would make up something like this and ruin her own reputation? You lied to the company about being married, and now you’re claiming you’re single. Who knows what’s real with you? Detective, she’s the department director. She has money and connections. She probably hacked the registry and wiped her marriage records!” I looked at her. She was wrapped in that large male jacket, her hair a messy nest, with a few red scratches on her arms. She was crying tears of pure despair, but every accusation she threw at me was calculated and sharp. The detective logged into the federal database to verify my identity. After a few minutes, he looked up. “The registry says Chloe Sterling, twenty-eight, single, no children.” Hailey’s crying cut off instantly. She stared at the screen, her face pale. “No… That’s impossible! That’s absolutely impossible!” Suddenly, as if remembering something, she fumbled with her phone, pulled up a video, and shoved it in front of the detective. “Fine! Maybe they aren’t legally married. But people can live together without a marriage certificate, right?” She tapped play on a security camera clip. A tall man wearing a black hoodie was walking out of my apartment hallway, carrying a trash bag, and stepping into the elevator. “This guy! This guy came right out of your apartment! Even if he isn’t your husband, he’s your boyfriend! He’s the suspect you’ve been hiding in your home!” Hailey zoomed in on the screen. “I’ve been in your car, Chloe. I saw this exact hoodie on your backseat. Are you going to tell me he has nothing to do with you? Chloe Sterling, how are you going to explain this?!” Looking at that familiar, tall figure in the hoodie, my heart sank. I finally understood why she was so absolutely sure I had a husband.

Next, the detective pulled up another security video from the street nearby. The timestamp was shortly before Hailey called 911. Under a dim streetlight, a tall man of the exact same build suddenly grabbed Hailey from the sidewalk and dragged her into the dark shadows of a bush. Hailey pointed at the screen, shaking like a leaf, weeping as she watched herself being dragged away. “That’s him! That’s the man!” She whipped around to face me, her eyes burning with pure hatred. “And you! Chloe Sterling! You’re his accomplice!” Hailey was absolutely certain that the man who assaulted her and the man who walked out of my apartment to throw away the trash were the same person. In both videos, the build and the hoodie were about eighty percent identical. And that specific bush happened to be in a security camera blind spot. A few minutes later in the video, Hailey stumbled out of the bushes, her clothes torn, with clear scratches and bruises on her arms. The detective turned the screen toward me. “Do you know him?” “Yes.” Hailey screamed instantly. “You finally admit it! He’s the one who did this to me! Chloe, you knew he was a sick freak, and you purposely brought me to your neighborhood!” I stared at the familiar figure on the screen, remaining calm. The detective pressed on. “What’s his name?” “He doesn’t have one.” “Social Security Number?” “He doesn’t have one of those either.” The detective slammed his hand on the desk. “Chloe Sterling! This is a police precinct, not a playground. Stop playing games!” I looked up, meeting his eyes. “I am telling you the truth. The thing that walked out of my apartment… is not a human being.” “You cold-hearted, evil bitch!” Hailey lost her mind and began cursing at me. “No wonder you always offered to drive me home after work for free! You had this planned all along! You’re his accomplice! You set me up just so your freak boyfriend could assault an innocent girl!” A chill ran down my spine. Hailey was a fresh graduate with a low salary, and her rented place was far from the office. I had driven her home purely out of pity, wanting to make things a little easier for a young girl starting out. At work, I always looked out for her, assigning her the easiest tasks that still got her the best commissions. I never could have imagined that my kindness would be twisted into a horrific criminal accusation. Right then, the door to the interrogation room was slammed open. Several people claiming to be Hailey’s family rushed in, pointing at me and screaming obscenities. “You absolute monster! Look what you did to my daughter!” “She’s a good girl! She was supposed to get married soon! Now you and your psycho husband ruined her life!” A middle-aged woman Hailey’s mother was wailing hysterically. She lunged forward, trying to grab my hair. “I’m telling you, this isn’t over! We want fifty thousand dollars for emotional damages! Every single penny! Or we will go to your company, post this on Snapchat, and ruin your entire life!” The officers immediately jumped in to hold them back. Miller turned to me, his voice sharp and commanding. “Chloe Sterling! Tell us the identity of the man living with you right now!” The room was in absolute chaos. The screaming, crying, and cursing made my ears ring. I sighed, looking up. “Fine, I’ll tell you. But like I said… he isn’t human.”

The room went dead silent for a fraction of a second. Hailey’s mother was the first to react, leaping up from her chair and charging at me again. “What the hell are you talking about?! Not human? What is he, a ghost? Do you think we’re idiots?!” Miller stood up, his face turning incredibly dark. He clearly thought I was mocking him. “Ms. Sterling! This is a police station. We do not tolerate jokes here!” Hailey became completely hysterical. “Officers, do you see this?! She won’t confess until she’s behind bars!” Hailey snatched a ballpoint pen from the desk and pressed the sharp tip hard against her own neck. “Do I have to die right in front of you for you to believe me?” She shrieked, tears streaming down her face. “Is the camera footage fake? Are my injuries fake? Is the DNA inside me fake too?!” She sobbed, glaring at the police with desperation. “If you don’t arrest that monster, and if you don’t punish this woman who is protecting him, I will kill myself right here!” Seeing this, Miller warned me with a freezing voice. “Chloe Sterling, this is your absolute last warning. Refusing to hand over a suspect makes you an accessory to a felony. You will face serious prison time. This is your last chance.” The room was a mess. Miller managed to disarm Hailey, taking the pen away, while another officer dragged her mother out of the room. “Chloe, we’ve given you every opportunity to explain. Give us his name, address, and contact info. Now. Otherwise, we will officially charge you as an accomplice.” I looked at the clock on the wall. “Let’s go to my apartment. He’s in there right now.” Miller waved his hand. “Assemble a team. We’re moving out.” They put me in handcuffs for the ride. When the cold metal clicked around my wrists, my heart twinged with a bit of pain. Three years ago, I was the one who hired Hailey. When she couldn’t afford rent in the city center, I helped her apply for company housing. When her mother was hospitalized and no other coworker would lend her a dime, I personally lent her five thousand dollars. I mentored her from a clueless intern to a core team member. And now, she couldn’t wait to put me in a cage. I was escorted into the back of a police cruiser. Fifteen minutes later, we pulled up to my building. Several heavily armed tactical officers quickly got out of their SUVs, securing the perimeter of the building. Hailey hid behind a few officers, pointing a trembling finger at my window. “It’s up there. That demon is definitely still inside.” The arrival of several police cars with flashing lights had caused quite a stir. A few elderly neighbors were peeking out from their windows. Miller began deploying his men. After a quick briefing, he drew his service weapon and walked over to me. “What kind of lock is on your door?” “Fingerprint scanner.” “You’re going to open it for us.” I held up my hands. “Sure, but you’ll have to let me use my finger.” Miller glanced at me and immediately denied the request. “No. You might trigger a silent alarm or alert the suspect inside.” He turned and waved to the officers behind him. “Get the battering ram.” I sighed. It was just a simple smart lock, but they insisted on using a battering ram. Fine. Building management would charge the department for the door repairs anyway. The elevator was too slow, so the tactical team rushed up the stairs to the sixth floor. I was escorted by two officers, my handcuffs clinking with every step. Standing outside my apartment door, Miller gave the final signal. Two tactical officers flanked the door, their rifles raised. Behind them, an officer held a heavy steel battering ram, ready to swing. Miller held up three fingers, counting down silently. Three. Two. One. BOOM! The door flew open, and the team stormed inside like a pack of wolves. “Police! Nobody move!” “Hands in the air! Get down on the ground! Now!” The living room lights were bright, and the warm scent of freshly cooked dinner filled the air. In the kitchen, a tall man was standing with his back turned to everyone.

He was holding a spatula. Even with the loud shouting and guns pointed at him, he didn’t react at all. Miller yelled even louder, “I won’t say it again! Get on the ground! Hands behind your head, or we will use force!” Still, no response. Two tactical officers exchanged a quick look and rushed forward. One grabbed his arm, twisting it backward, while the other tried to pin his shoulder down. In that exact split second. CLACK. The entire living room fell into a horrifying, dead silence. Everyone stared in absolute shock at the arm that had just fallen onto the hardwood floor. “No… This… This is impossible…” A young officer stammered, his voice filled with terror and confusion. And in that eerie silence, the man with the missing arm slowly spun around. He looked at me with his glowing, synthetic eyes. “Welcome home, Chloe. Dinner is ready. System alert: Door lock damage detected. Would you like me to contact building maintenance immediately?” The officer who was holding the “man’s” other shoulder jumped back as if he’d been electrocuted. He fell flat on his butt, scrambling backward, screaming at Miller. “De… Detective! This… This guy is made of metal!” I could finally speak. I walked over to the “man,” looking back at the frozen police officers and the pale, trembling Hailey. “Everyone, let me formally introduce you. This is the ‘man’ who throws out my trash and cooks my dinner every day. The one you all swore was a rapist. He is also the ‘abusive husband’ I made up to avoid working unpaid overtime. Meet Apollo. A limited-edition, advanced domestic service android.” “Ah!” Hailey let out a piercing shriek. She rubbed her eyes in utter disbelief, babbling incoherently. “No… No! That’s impossible! A robot can’t look exactly like a real human! You’re lying! You must be lying!” I calmly walked to the sideboard, opened a drawer, and pulled out a thick folder. “Officers, here are the full patent certificates, factory quality approval, and technical specifications for this latest model of synthetic android. They come in male and female models. Very customizable.” I handed the documents to the completely dumbfounded Miller. “Furthermore, as the lead engineer of this project, I can assure you that his design and manufacturing comply with all international safety standards.” My words sent another shockwave through the room. Hailey, still refusing to accept defeat, immediately yelled, “Even… Even if he’s a robot! You must have done it! You remotely controlled this robot to assault me!” I looked at her like she was an absolute idiot. “Hailey, did you fail basic biology in high school?” I walked over to Apollo, and before everyone’s eyes, I pulled down his sweatpants. “He’s a domestic chore-focused android. Not a sex toy.” A few officers quickly looked away, clearing their throats. Miller coughed uncomfortably. “As you can see, to avoid legal and ethical issues, our domestic models do not come equipped with any human reproductive organs down there. So please tell me, how exactly did he assault you? With his charging port?” Hailey’s mother, realizing things were going horribly wrong, jumped in to cause more trouble. “Then… Then it must have been another man! There has to be another man! This robot is just a cover-up to confuse us!” Hailey’s face flashed between red and white, her hands shaking, but she still wouldn’t back down. “Then how do you explain the security footage? The figure in the hoodie!” I let out a cold laugh, walked over to my desk, and plugged my laptop in. “You want evidence? Fine. I’ll show you everything.”

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At my birthday party, I had an accidental one-night stand with Ethan, the boy next door I’d chased for ten years. When I woke up, he was already getting dressed, looking down at me with cold disgust. “This is a really cheap trick, Chloe.” I looked at the glass of non-alcoholic juice on the nightstand. I didn’t explain. I didn’t argue. I just ignored the aching soreness in my body, went straight home, and completely cut off contact with him for three whole months. The next time I heard from him, his mother had dragged him to my house to ask for a favor. “Our stubborn boy is finally ready to settle down! They’re planning the engagement! Chloe, you majored in interior design, right? Can you help them renovate their new house?” I froze in the kitchen, spilling the hot soup all over my hand. My mom happily patted my arm. “Wait, did you two actually make it work? I always said my girl might not be the smartest, but she’s definitely thick-skinned. You actually snatched Ethan!” The atmosphere instantly turned awkward. Ethan’s face went pitch black. “Chloe, is it fun to spread rumors? Even if you lie and say we’re having a baby, I will still never marry you!” Both of our mothers froze. Mrs. Davis immediately apologized, “What nonsense are you talking about? Chloe is a good, respectable girl. Stop acting like a jerk!” She turned around and slapped Ethan’s arm repeatedly. I took the opportunity to speak up. “It’s fine, Mrs. Davis. But I really can’t help with the house.” I looked down and gently touched my belly. “I actually am pregnant. Exactly three months.” I smiled and added, “But don’t worry, all three of you. The baby isn’t Ethan’s.”

That one sentence felt like a sudden clap of thunder. Ethan kicked the chair next to him in a rage, gritting his teeth. “Is it appropriate for you to make this kind of joke right now?” Under my mom’s shocked gaze, I brought out a bowl of chicken soup and sat down at the dining table. Looking at his furious face, I covered my lower abdomen, completely calm. “I’m not joking. I am pregnant. And it really isn’t yours.” Then, I forced a polite, apologetic smile. “I just found out a few days ago and haven’t had the chance to tell everyone. I’m sorry, Mrs. Davis. You’ll have to find someone else to design the house.” I stirred my soup and said to my mom, “I asked you to make chicken soup today because the doctor said the baby needs more nutrients.” The air in the room froze. My mom’s eyes welled with tears, and she couldn’t say a word. Sensing that things were going south, Mrs. Davis awkwardly laughed and dragged Ethan out of the house. Before he left, Ethan gave me a dark, unreadable look and spat out one last line. “Even if it’s true, I’ll never take responsibility for it.” The moment they left, my mom slammed her hand on the table. “I know you’ve loved Ethan for ten years. But even if you’re angry that he’s getting engaged, you can’t ruin your own reputation like this! You haven’t even had a boyfriend. Where would a baby come from?” I pulled the ultrasound report from my pocket. The words “Pregnancy: 3 Months” completely silenced her. She closed her eyes in defeat, then suddenly grabbed my wrist as if realizing something. “I heard what he just said. He said ‘even if it’s true, he won’t take responsibility.’ Did something happen between you two? Is this child his?” I took a sip of the soup and said quietly, “Mom, how many times do I have to say it? The baby really isn’t Ethan’s.” My mom’s hands shook with anger. “Then tell me who the father is! I’m not against you dating. You’re almost thirty, and you always rejected the guys I set you up with. I thought you were set on Ethan forever! But you…” She looked around and lowered her voice. “But you went and got yourself pregnant without a husband!” A wave of nausea hit my throat. I stood up and poured the soup down the drain. As she kept lecturing, I said helplessly, “I’ll tell you more when the pregnancy is stable. He knows about the baby, and he’s willing to take responsibility.” My mom followed me, her face full of frustration.

“Take responsibility? How? Right now he says he will, but once you actually give birth, he’ll run away!” My mind drifted, thinking of how excited a certain someone had been when he found out. An involuntary smile touched my lips. He would take responsibility. The moment he found out I was pregnant, he immediately transferred a million dollars to my account and bought all the baby supplies himself. At the very least, he was a thousand times more responsible than Ethan. “Mom, don’t worry. Your daughter isn’t stupid. I’m going to work now.” I packed my things and went down to the garage. When I reached my car, I saw Ethan’s car blocking my driveway completely. I instinctively reached into my bag to grab his spare key to move it. But after rummaging for a bit, I remembered he had taken his keys back the day we started our cold war. Hesitantly, I pulled out my phone and scrolled to the bottom of my chat list to find his name. [Can you move your car? I need to go to work.] The next second, a red exclamation mark flashed on my screen. He had blocked me. I tapped on his Instagram profile. His profile banner, which had been a sports theme for years, had been replaced by a photo of two hands locked together—an official relationship announcement. I let out a bitter laugh and put my phone away. Right. He took his keys back, so blocking me was only natural. As I turned to leave, I tripped on something on the ground and almost fell. My heart leaped into my throat. I grabbed the side mirror of his car to steady myself. Scattered all over the concrete were things I had left in his car over the years. There was my winter coat, which I had given him because I was worried he’d catch a cold after drinking. There was a silver cross necklace I had climbed thousands of steps at a cathedral to get for him, just to keep him safe. And a meticulously packed first-aid kit, in case he got sick… The rest was just random junk—lipsticks and fake eyelashes I’d accidentally dropped during our hangouts. If the person didn’t matter to him, then her things were just trash to be thrown away. Through the passenger window, I saw the front seat had been decorated beautifully. There was a pink cushion, a cute plushie tied to the headrest, and a toy steering wheel on the dashboard. In the past, whenever I tried to put a small keychain in his car, he would throw it out. “If you put something so girly in here, people will think I have a girlfriend,” he used to say. My eyes burned. So this was the special treatment saved only for an official girlfriend. I bent down, threw all my old belongings into the trash can, and called an Uber. As soon as I sat down, my high school bestie, Lily, called me, screaming through the phone. “Chloe! That jerk Ethan is getting engaged!” Hearing the news again, I was much calmer. “Yeah, I just found out.” “Did you see his Instagram? We were all terrified! He never posts anything, and today he uploaded five different posts! We thought the bride was you! But it turns out…” I didn’t want to hear it, so I cut her off. “Want to hear something even more shocking?” Lily asked instantly, “What?” A gentle smile crept onto my face. “I’m pregnant. You’re going to be a godmother!” “What?!” “I’m not lying. Exactly three months.” I sent her a picture of the ultrasound. She sounded like she was about to cry with excitement. “I thought you were going to be stuck on Ethan for the rest of your life. I was literally just about to tell you to stop running into that brick wall. But look at you! You got pregnant! That’s amazing!” “Quick, tell me! Who’s the dad?” I kept it a mystery. “In a few days, when he’s done with his business trip, you’ll be the first person to meet him.” She happily agreed, and we hung up after chatting about baby prep. Right after I sat down at my desk, Lily posted on her Snapchat: [Thank God! My bestie Chloe is pregnant! I’m going to be a godmother!] I was about to message her to tell her to keep it on the down-low. But the next second, Ethan, who had been completely MIA, commented: [? Are you playing along with her little drama now?]

Lily clapped back instantly: [People without kids shouldn’t interfere with those of us who do! Are you blind? Can’t you see the hospital’s official stamp on the report?] The frustration that had been building up in my chest was mostly cleared by Lily’s reply. I hummed a little tune and spent a busy afternoon working. Later, I took a picture of the soothing flowers a certain someone had sent to my office and posted it on my Snapchat story: [It feels so good to have someone caring for me.] Out of nowhere, Ethan left a comment: [Is lying to yourself that comforting? Just don’t go around telling people I sent those to you.] In his eyes, I was that worthless. I didn’t reply. While waiting for my ride after work, a familiar car pulled up right in front of me. A frustrated Ethan rolled down the window. “Get in.” I stood still. “I called an Uber.” “I’m not asking. Get in.” Sighing, I cancelled my ride. I instinctively walked to the passenger side, but after he glared at me, I quietly got into the back seat. Ethan drove incredibly fast. The wind cut through the open window like a knife. While waiting at a red light, he habitually pulled out a cigarette, but after glancing at my flat stomach through the rearview mirror, he put it away. “You can’t keep this baby. I can compensate you for what happened that night, but I won’t be responsible for a child’s future.” I gently stroked my belly, my heart aching. “You make it sound like I forced myself on you that night. Let me say it again: I don’t need you to take responsibility, and the baby isn’t yours.” Ethan swore under his breath and slammed his hand on the steering wheel, honking the horn loudly. “You’re still acting at a time like this? I don’t think you have enough charm to make any other guy look at you.” He looked at me through the rearview mirror, his eyes filled with endless mockery. My pale, tired face was reflected in the window. I didn’t care to argue with him. Since we were kids, Ethan was always the golden boy. He was tall, handsome, studious, and great at sports. The girls chasing him could line up from our doorsteps to the school gates. Even my breakfasts were supplied by his fangirls. Because I looked so average, they collectively agreed that I wasn’t a threat. When I first started passing their love letters to him, Ethan was shocked. “Hey, why are you giving me these? I don’t like you, don’t do this.” Wearing my thick glasses, I told him honestly, “I didn’t write them. Someone else asked me to give them to you.” “Good.” He let out a long sigh of relief. “Let me make this clear. Don’t get any ideas about me. To me, you’re basically genderless.” I felt a pang of sadness, but I still spent the next three years quietly following behind him. It wasn’t until high school, when we were in the same class, that things changed. After his basketball games, he would walk a long way just to ask for my water bottle. “Give me a sip. I’m dying of thirst.” The setting sun hit his sweaty face, making him look incredibly bright. For the first time, my ears flushed red, and I refused. “Why not? Don’t be so stingy to your bro.” He unreasonable snatched it away and gulped it down. When I got the bottle back, I hid in a corner where no one was looking and took a sip from where his lips had touched. That was the moment I realized I liked him. But he didn’t like me. I started caring about my appearance, tried taking off my glasses, and clumsily put on makeup that made me look like a clown. He mocked me mercilessly. “So ugly.” Later, I intentionally threw away over fifty points on my SATs just to make sure I went to college in the same city as him. I played games of Truth or Dare just to confess to him under the guise of a joke. I threw drunken tantrums and dropped hints constantly. But all I got in return was his disdain and malicious teasing from our mutual friends. The final straw was at my birthday party three months ago. I had gone out to buy cold medicine for him, and when I returned to the private room, I heard his friends making bets through the door:

“Ethan, do you think Chloe is going to find another chance to confess to you tonight? How many times has it been? At least ten thousand times, right?” Ethan’s lips curved into a slight smirk. “No matter how many times she hints at it, I’ll just play dumb. After all, she’s great for everything—except being a girlfriend.” My hand froze in mid-air. I completely lost the courage to push the door open. That was the first time I didn’t try to drop clumsy hints. In fact, after the party ended, he looked uncomfortable, grabbed my arm, and asked if I had anything to say to him. I shook my head. He then dragged me to a hotel, almost out of spite, saying he wanted to clear things up. And after that, he woke up, got dressed in disgust, and cut me off. A sudden, violent screech of brakes pulled me back to reality. The car had stopped in the underground garage of his apartment building. I thought about it and decided to tell him the truth about that night. “Ethan, that night, we didn’t actually—” Before I could finish the words “do anything,” he pushed the door open and ran off without looking back. “Victoria, don’t be scared. I’ll be right there. Wait for me.” He left so decisively, leaving me locked in the back seat, helplessly banging on the window for help. Only then did I realize who “Victoria” was. She was the elegant senior who was the only girl to ever reject him. I waited and waited until midnight, knowing he wouldn’t come back. Now that his dream girl was back, how could he let me ruin his mood? I wanted to call Lily for help. But I was afraid Ethan would think I was making a big deal out of nothing and make his dream girl misunderstand. In the end, from the lack of oxygen in the car, I fainted. … When I woke up again, the white walls and the smell of disinfectant surrounded me. The room was noisy. Mrs. Davis was screaming at Ethan. “Do you even have a heart? You knew Chloe was pregnant, and you left her locked in the car all night? If anything happens to the baby, you’re dead to me!” My mom was angry, too, but she tried to keep the peace. “Alright, alright. She’s fine now. The baby is still small.” I coughed twice, cutting them off. My mom immediately rushed to my bedside, her eyes full of worry. “Chloe, are you feeling better? The doctor said you’re weak. It was hard to save the baby, so don’t put yourself in danger anymore, okay?” Every word she said was a jab at Ethan’s carelessness. Mrs. Davis looked extremely embarrassed, but she forced a smile. “Yes, Chloe, you need to take care of your body. I won’t let this brat bother you anymore.” It sounded a bit like I was the one clinging to her son. I weakly turned my head away, but Ethan cut his mother off. “I was the one who went looking for Chloe. Stop being passive-aggressive.” He awkwardly stepped closer and held a bowl of soup to my lips. I pulled away, refusing to take a single sip. He got annoyed and slammed the bowl onto the table. “If you don’t drink it, don’t blame me if something happens to the kid!” I was almost amused by his words. He had been insisting the child had nothing to do with him. So what was this act supposed to be now? Mrs. Davis’s expression hardened behind him, and she looked at me with a hint of displeasure. I said quietly, “The baby has a father. You don’t need to worry about it.” Ethan’s face darkened by several shades. “You’re in your first trimester, so I won’t argue with you. I bought all the baby supplies based on online guides. Take care of yourself.” I looked at the corner of the room, which was piled high with baby clothes, strollers, and toys. Ethan was still misunderstanding. Since everyone was here, it was the perfect time to explain everything clearly, so a certain someone wouldn’t get jealous. But before I could speak, a slender, beautiful figure walked into the room.

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To meet my online boyfriend for the first time, I starved myself and worked out like crazy to lose 100 pounds. But the day before our big meet-up, I stumbled across a post on a local forum. “Rehoming my online girlfriend.” “Been together for over a year. She has a sweet voice, a great personality, and is amazing at emotional support. DM me if you’re interested.” Someone asked in the comments why he was giving up such a great girlfriend. He replied: “I found her real-life info online. She’s super fat. I only date hot girls.” The comment section immediately filled with mockery. “I was actually interested, but if she’s fat, never mind.” “Who wants a fat girl? Keep her to yourself, man. Haha.” Only one person replied, “Check your DMs.” I stared at the poster’s profile picture. It was the exact same profile picture as my online boyfriend. And the post had been active for three months already. I froze, my mind going completely blank. Suddenly, things from three months ago started to make sense. Carter had changed a lot back then. He had suddenly become cold and distant, even breaking up with me once, saying he was just bored. I thought he was just going through a phase, so I practically begged him to stay. He reluctantly agreed to keep trying. Right after that, he insisted on changing his Snapchat account. His excuse was that his old one was too cluttered with spam, and since he was starting college, he wanted a fresh start. So, I added his new account. Even after that, he remained a bit distant for a while, and his personality seemed totally different. It took some time before we got back to our usual sweet, lovey-dovey state. I thought he had just had a change of heart after getting bored. I never imagined… I looked down at my phone. A message popped up from him. “Babe, I looked at the calendar and saw your period is coming up. I ordered you some hot chocolate. Make sure to drink it while it’s warm.” “I can’t wait to see you next month. I’m a little nervous. Are you excited, babe?” My eyelashes fluttered, my finger hovering over the screen. So… who exactly was this person about to meet me? When Maya came to find me, she was hesitating, biting her lip. “Chloe, did you and Carter break up?” “Why do you ask?” I asked calmly. She didn’t answer but handed me her phone instead. “See for yourself.” When we used to play games online together, Maya got pretty close with one of Carter’s gaming buddies. That guy had sent her a screenshot of Carter’s private Instagram story. In their group chat, someone had asked Carter: “Yo, why haven’t you brought your girl to play games with us lately?” Carter replied: “We broke up.” Everyone was shocked. “Wait, weren’t you guys doing great? Why the sudden breakup?” “I used to love her voice and always assumed she was a babe. But last time she posted a screenshot, her delivery receipt showed her real name. I knew which high school she went to, so I had someone dig up her info.” “Turns out she’s a massive whale, nearly two hundred pounds! I swear I almost threw up on the spot. I’m a visual guy, you know? I dumped her immediately.” Someone joked, “Maybe her voice sounds good because her fat is choking her vocal cords. The sweeter the voice, the bigger the whale!” “But I remember that girl was head over heels for you. She always protected you in-game. Did she really agree to the breakup?” Carter replied, “She didn’t want to. So I basically rehomed her. I posted a listing to transfer her to someone else. It’s not like she knows my real name anyway.” Then, he shared a link to the “Rehoming my online girlfriend” post. The replies below were wild. “Holy shit, that’s insane. You can actually transfer a girlfriend?” “Carter, you’re a genius! Now she definitely won’t harass you anymore. She must have hidden her face on purpose. If it wasn’t online, you would never have dated someone like her for a year. She deserved it.” “Being catfished by a wild hog for a whole year must have scarred you, man. Not planning on dating for a while?” Carter replied, “Actually, I’ve got my eyes on a new target. There’s a super cute, innocent girl in the incoming freshman Snapchat group.” Carter came from a wealthy family and often bought coffee or drinks for the group. Naturally, everyone loved to stroke his ego. They quickly replied, “Damn, Carter’s fast! Already snagged a baddie.” “Only a top-tier girl is worthy of you, bro.” “Any pics? Let us see!” Carter sent a photo. In the picture, the girl wore a white sundress and a light cardigan. Her natural ash-brown hair was tied in a loose side ponytail resting on her shoulder. She was pale, skinny, with eyes that crinkled beautifully when she smiled. She was indeed very pretty. I recognized her instantly. It was Haley Vance from our freshman Snapchat group. She had shared her photo in the group earlier, and the guys immediately started hyping her up as the new campus belle. Maya was fuming. “Carter dated you for over a year, and he just tossed you aside like garbage. He even ‘rehomed’ you? What an absolute scumbag.” “And honestly, this Haley girl isn’t even prettier than you. She’s just pale and skinny.” “Chloe, you should post your photo in the group right now. Make him regret it.” I stared down at the screen. In that chat, only one person had tried to stand up for me. “But that girl really loved you. I remember every time you got ambushed in the game, she was always the first to rush in and die for you. Isn’t this a bit too cruel?” A moment later, Carter replied casually: “I only care about looks. What can I do? Just thinking about being with that fat pig for a year makes me want to vomit.” “If she wants to blame someone, she should blame her own ugly face.”

On my way home that evening, another guy stopped me to ask for my Snapchat. After politely declining, I walked slowly down the street by myself. The summer evening was chilly under the overcast sky, and it looked like it was about to pour. I caught my reflection in the glass window of a boutique shop. My face was small and delicate, with sharp, naturally alluring features. I remembered what Maya always said to me with envy, “Even girls who spend six figures on plastic surgery don’t have a nose as perfect as yours! Every time we go out, everyone’s staring at you. It’s insane!” I knew I was pretty now. When I went out, guys would often pay for my drinks, ask for my contact info, and I had even been approached by talent scouts. But before dating Carter, my life was completely different. I had been overweight since I was a kid. In high school, I weighed nearly two hundred pounds. My eyes were almost swallowed up by the fat on my cheeks. “Fatty.” “Ugly girl.” I had heard every insult in the book. Because of that, I was incredibly insecure. The bigger I got, the more I hid in baggy clothes, which only made me look worse. I had crushes, too, but whenever those boys found out I liked them, they reacted as if they’d been deeply insulted, yelling slurs at me. But whenever I tried to lose weight, my parents always told me I didn’t need to. They said I was cute just the way I was. They were both on the heavier side themselves, so they didn’t see obesity as a problem. My teenage years were spent entirely in the shadow of other people’s mockery. Until I met Carter in an online game. He was captivated by my voice and insisted on adding me. After playing together a few more times, we became close. After some time, Carter confessed his feelings to me. I stayed up all night agonizing over it. I knew Carter was well-off. While we played together, he gifted me countless in-game skins and tried to send me real-life gifts, which I always refused. And even though he didn’t have clear photos of his face on his feed, there were plenty of pictures of him vacationing all over the world, showing his back. He had a great build, and the hotels he stayed at were incredibly expensive. I knew he only liked my voice. If he saw the real me, he would never love me. But I really, truly liked him. Carter was so cheerful. Back then, whenever I was sad, he would always comfort me. He would even send out gift cards in the game’s public chat lobby, paying strangers to leave nice messages to cheer me up. In the end, I said yes. I hid my weight and all my personal details, terrified that he might look me up. I even tried to test him once. “What if I’m not pretty?” He replied instantly, “With a voice as beautiful as yours, how could you not be pretty? Babe, stop teasing me.” “Babe, when can we finally meet? I miss you so much.” “Babe, let’s go to the same college so we can see each other every day.” I stared at the screen for a long time, and finally made up my mind to lose weight. From that day on, I went on a brutal fitness regime. It didn’t matter if I was too hungry to sleep, if my stomach burned with acid reflux, or if I collapsed from exhaustion after working out. No matter how much my parents begged me to take just one bite of their high-calorie food, I refused. I just wanted to be skinny. I lived like that for nearly a year. I didn’t touch a single high-calorie meal. Countless times, I cried myself to sleep from hunger, but the thought of him kept me going. Finally, I did it. From 180 pounds to 160, then 120, and finally, 110 pounds. I started learning how to take care of my skin, do my makeup, style my hair, and dress up. During this time, Carter suggested visiting me several times, but I always made up excuses to dodge him. I always felt like I wasn’t pretty enough yet. Until the boys in my class started looking at me differently. I started receiving love letters. Walking down the street, guys would blush, ask for my number, and tell me how gorgeous I was. Only then did it hit me: I had actually become beautiful. I finally gathered the courage to meet Carter. I applied to the same college as him, and we agreed to meet up during freshman orientation week. But… It turned out I was just a game to him. I thought all those sweet words were real. But now that I thought about it, he had never even told me his real name. Even the name “Carter Bennett” was something I found out through Maya’s gaming crush. From beginning to end, he had never truly loved me.

In the freshman group chat, Haley posted another photo. She was at Disneyland, wearing Mickey Mouse ears and a pleated skirt, looking youthful and radiant. The boy next to her was cropped out. But at a single glance, I recognized the watch on his wrist. It was the exact same luxury watch Carter had flexed on his Instagram before. The chat was buzzing. “The queen has blessed us with a pic!” “So gorgeous! Who’s the guy next to you?” “Looks like Carter. Lucky bastard!” I had just found out from Maya that Carter started pursuing Haley the moment she posted her first picture in the chat. Word was he had flown directly to her city, bought her tons of expensive gifts, and even rented out a private fireworks show for her. Now, they were officially together. Carter spammed the chat: “Haley is my girl now.” “Carter’s the man! You guys look so good together!” “Oh my god, this is so sweet. I believe in love again!” “Only a girl like her is worthy of Carter.” … Then, someone brought me up. “You guys have no idea. Before this, Carter was catfished by some fat chick for over a year. He was scarred for life. Thank god he finally found a beautiful girl. Congrats, man!” Haley asked, “Who?” The guy quickly filled everyone in on the story. The chat immediately erupted with mockery. “Holy shit, a fat girl actually thought she had a chance with Carter? Disgusting.” “Ugly girls are always losers in real life, so they resort to catfishing online.” “I heard she’s coming to our college too. Maybe she’s in this incoming class. Can’t wait to see how hideous she actually is.” Haley chimed in with a soft laugh, “She must have been really insecure. Being ugly isn’t her fault, but catfishing people is just wrong.” Carter replied, “Let’s not talk about the past. Just thinking about it makes me sick. I’m just glad I have you now.” Carter had no idea that I had joined the freshman Snapchat group using a burner account. I had witnessed his entire new love story from start to finish. Someone asked Carter in the chat: “Carter, what was that catfish’s name? Maybe we’ll run into her when campus opens.” Carter replied: “Chloe Sterling.” “Sounds super basic. No wonder she’s ugly.” In the next second, I switched to my main account and entered the group. I set my display name to: Chloe Sterling. The group chat went dead silent. But I knew everyone was staring at their screens, waiting for the drama to unfold. A few minutes later, Haley sent two messages. “Welcome to the group, Chloe!” “Hey Chloe, we’re having a freshman pre-party tonight. Want to join us?” I knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted to make me a laughingstock. I smirked and typed a single word: “Sure.” Just as I was getting ready for bed, my online boyfriend, “Not-A-Nugget,” sent me another photo. “Babe, look at this bag. I bought it in Italy. I knew it would look perfect on you the moment I saw it. I’ll give it to you when we meet!” “Babe, why are you ignoring me? Are you asleep?” “Babe!” I frowned. This guy had bought Carter’s old account, and he was really playing the part of the doting boyfriend. He was incredibly generous, though. Last month, he sent me a designer necklace and a luxury skincare set. For Valentine’s Day, he got me a designer purse. He even sent me flowers on random weekdays. But he already knew I was fat. What was he playing at? I decided to test him. I sent him a photo of me from a year ago. 180 pounds, my eyes squeezed into tiny slits by my cheeks. “This is what I look like. If you can’t handle it, let’s just break up. I don’t want to waste your time.” I refused to believe he’d stay after seeing that. He replied almost instantly. “Babe, you look so cute.” I’m speechless. Was this guy out of his mind? I typed back frantically, “Look closely! I’m 180 pounds! I’m fat!” “I know. I think you look adorable. But please make sure to stay healthy, babe.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. Was this guy also overweight, or did he just have some weird fat fetish? “What do you look like?” I asked. “I haven’t seen a photo of you yet.” Not-A-Nugget sent a barrage of photos. There were pictures from different angles, full-body shots, and even a close-up of his abs. I let out a cynical laugh. The guy in the photos had broad shoulders, a snatched waist, and visible obliques. He looked at least 6’2″. But what was even more ridiculous was his face. He looked like a literal K-pop idol or a high-fashion model. He had warm, hazel eyes that seemed to hold a gentle smile, and messy black hair pushed back to reveal a perfect forehead. He looked incredibly youthful and charming. Right. Catfishing me with Pinterest photos, are we? I thought. “Babe, I just took these randomly without dressing up. Do you like how I look?” Fine. We were going to meet up anyway. Let’s see how he handles getting caught in his own lie. I scoffed in real life, but typed back sweetly: “Oh my god, babe, you’re gorgeous! Is this really you? I can’t wait to meet you!” “Awesome! By the way, I have something to tell you when we meet.” I smirked. Probably that you used fake photos, I thought. I replied, “Okay.”

The moment my flight landed, my phone started buzzing like crazy. “Babe, where are you? I’m waiting at the arrivals gate. I’m holding a huge bouquet of flowers!” Photo attached. “Babe, I’m so nervous. What if you don’t like me when you see me?” … The photo only showed a massive bouquet of red roses, hiding the person behind it. For a catfish, he was surprisingly romantic. My heart softened a little, and I thought, Whatever. Even if he doesn’t look like his photos, we can just clear the air and start as friends. After all, he had been incredibly sweet to me over the past three months. He was there for me day and night. When I couldn’t sleep, he’d stay on the phone with me even when he was half-asleep and mumbling nonsense. He found excuses to buy me gifts and send me cash on every holiday, or even just random weekdays. He remembered every single thing I liked and even tracked my period cycle. He was a genuinely good guy. So what if he was a little plain-looking? I could handle that. Suddenly, a guy walking next to me nudged me gently. I turned around, and he blushed furiously. “Hey, sorry to bother you. But I’ve noticed you since we boarded. Can I get your Snapchat?” I waved my hand politely. “Sorry, I have a boyfriend.” His face flushed red. “Oh, sorry! My bad.” I dragged my suitcase toward the exit. From a distance, I spotted the giant bouquet of roses blocking the face of the person holding them. But I could see his silhouette. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with a lean waist. Was he one of those guys with a great body but a face you wouldn’t look twice at? I didn’t believe for a second that “Not-A-Nugget” actually looked like those model photos. If he did, why would he date me? The person holding the flowers seemed to grow anxious, peeking out from behind the roses, his eyes searching the crowd frantically. My jaw literally dropped. Holy crap. He looked exactly like his photos. In fact, he was even more handsome in person! “Not-A-Nugget” wasn’t a catfish? A few girls nearby were already whispering and pointing at him, blushing. I walked up to him, my emotions in chaos. “Are you…” I expected him to look surprised when he saw my face, but instead, he frowned. “Can I help you?” he asked coldly. I tilted my head, pulling out my phone. “Who are you waiting for? Want to exchange Snapchats?” He looked even more annoyed now. “I’m waiting for my girlfriend. No.” I was stunned. Ever since I lost weight, no guy had ever treated me with such icy indifference. Wait… does he actually have a fat fetish and hate pretty girls? Seeing that I wasn’t leaving, he sighed impatiently. “Could you please move? My girlfriend is going to be here any minute.” I let out a helpless laugh. “Nugget, it’s me. Pumpkin.” “What Nugget, Pump…” He choked on his words, his eyes scanning me from head to toe. His eyes nearly popped out of his head. “You? Pumpkin?” “No way! Absolutely no way! Don’t you look like… aren’t you…” “Weren’t I super fat and ugly?” I finished his sentence for him, explaining, “I lost weight.” “Or do you actually have a fat fetish and only like ugly girls?” The guy who had been cold and annoyed a second ago turned bright red in an instant! “No! I don’t! I mean…you were really cute before too, you weren’t ugly! I just…” “So am I cute now?” I suddenly found his flustered reaction adorable. “Yes! I mean, you’re cute now too! You’re gorgeous! I just didn’t expect this!” He frantically shoved the massive bouquet into my arms. It was so heavy that I stumbled back a step. He panicked and immediately reached out to steady me. “I’m so sorry! I’m sorry!” I burst out laughing. “Didn’t you say you were going to take me out for good food when we met?” “Let’s go.”

Ethan was exactly like his online persona. Despite being ridiculously handsome, he didn’t have any of the typical arrogant “pretty boy” attitude. He was incredibly sweet, gentle, and attentive the entire day. I found out his real name was Ethan Brooks, and he was also an incoming freshman at our university. Although we had different majors, we were on the same campus. He took me to an upscale restaurant, pulling out my chair and cutting my steak for me, blushing so hard he barely dared to look me in the eye. He spent the whole afternoon taking me around the city, and when he finally dropped me off at the restaurant for the freshman pre-party, he looked at me reluctantly. “Text me when it’s over. I’ll come pick you up.” … The restaurant they chose was packed. As I approached the private dining room, I could hear voices echoing from inside. “Is everyone here?” “Not yet, Chloe Sterling hasn’t shown up.” “Chloe? You mean the fat girl who catfished Carter?” someone sneered. “She’s probably too chicken to show up.” “Duh! If she saw our queen Haley, she’d die of embarrassment. Girls like her only dare to catfish guys online. Nobody would look at her twice.” Haley joined in the laughter, leaning her head against Carter’s shoulder. “Don’t be so mean, guys. Being ugly isn’t her fault.” Just as I was about to walk in, a slightly plump girl beat me to it and stepped into the room. The room went dead silent for a second, and then everyone started exchanging smirks. “Well, if it isn’t Chloe. You sure take your sweet time making an entrance.” “You look exactly like Carter described.” “Have a seat. Wait, do we need to pull up two chairs for you? Will one be enough?” The room erupted into loud laughter. Carter draped his arm around Haley’s shoulders, a smug, mocking smirk playing on his lips. The girl looked at them like they were crazy, then calmly started unloading dishes from the food cart outside onto the table. She was just a waitress. The laughter in the room instantly died, replaced by awkward silence. That was when I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room fell into a suffocating silence. Every single eye locked onto me. A guy with a buzz cut froze, his beer glass suspended in mid-air. The yellow liquid spilled over the rim, dripping onto his pants before he snapped out of it, frantically wiping himself. The girl across from him, who had been laughing the loudest a moment ago, now had her mouth open in a perfect ‘O’ shape. Haley, who had been lazily leaning on Carter’s shoulder, sat up straight in an instant. Her smug smile vanished, and she unconsciously began fixing her hair. And Carter? He was staring at me, completely paralyzed. “Holy shit…” I heard someone whisper. Someone finally broke the silence. “Hey, gorgeous… are you in the wrong room? This is a freshman pre-party.” The buzz-cut guy who had mocked me earlier quickly chimed in, “Even if she’s in the wrong room, it’s fine! She looks like a freshman too. She can eat with us!” I smiled. “Hi everyone. I’m Chloe Sterling.” The room practically exploded with shock. The buzz-cut guy stuttered, his jaw dropping. “You’re Chloe? No way!” “But Carter said you were…” I smiled sweetly. “Said I was what?” My eyes swept over Carter, whose face had turned completely pale and rigid. He looked pretty much like I expected. Objectively speaking, he was very handsome. But it was a flashy, player kind of handsome. His bleached blonde hair was perfectly styled, and he had a pair of flirtatious eyes that made him look like a textbook playboy. “Who’s Carter? I don’t think I know anyone named Carter,” I said flatly. Carter froze in his seat, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. Unconsciously, his arm slipped off Haley’s shoulder. Haley bit her lower lip, her face darkening. I found the whole scene hilarious. I knew that look in Carter’s eyes. I had seen it on countless faces over the past few months. It was pure awe. But in Carter’s eyes, there was also something else. Regret. “Chloe?” he finally spoke, his voice hoarse.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “454418”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

On a miserably rainy day, while waiting for my boyfriend to pick me up, I scrolled past the fifty-first video of a relationship influencer trying to win her ex back. The caption read: “It’s pouring today. If you don’t come, I won’t leave.” The attached picture showed a girl in a drenched white dress. I clicked on her profile. Her bio read: “The account name is your birthday. Every time I need you, I will post a video. If I post fifty-two videos and we still haven’t gotten back together, I’ll agree to the blind dates my parents set up, and forget you forever.” Seeing the digits that matched my boyfriend’s birthday, I thought it was just a crazy coincidence. I clicked on the comment section, ready to type: “Don’t ruin your own health just to beg for a man’s pity.” But right then, a message from my boyfriend popped up on Snapchat. Ethan: Caught up in emergency overtime. Can’t pick you up. Find a way home yourself. Disappointed, I replied with a quick “Okay.” When I went back to the influencer’s profile, the page had already refreshed. Video #52: I always knew you never forgot me. Thank God I waited. Everyone, he came to get me. We are back together. This account will never be updated again. And in the attached photo, the ragged cloth the man was using to wipe her wet shoes was the hand-crafted leather keychain I had spent days making for him.

The comments section was flooded with “true love wins” and “so happy for you guys.” Each word felt like a needle stabbing into my eyes. The photo of their locked fingers made my heart stop. The faint scar on the back of that broad hand was from last night. Ethan had burned himself while cooking oatmeal for me. He had hidden it because he didn’t want me to worry. A wave of sheer absurdity washed over me. Before my brain could process it, my fingers instinctively dialed his number. Ethan’s voice was gentle as always. “Did you get an Uber, Chloe? Share your live location with me.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Not yet. What are you doing right now?” He paused for a second. “Working overtime at the office.” Just as the words left his mouth, a woman’s soft voice whispered in the background. “Do you want to take a shower? Your clothes are soaking wet.” At that moment, it felt like an invisible hand squeezed my heart. “What are you doing, Ethan?” He rushed to explain. “A pipe burst at the office. Don’t overthink it. Go home, okay?” The line went dead. I waited in the rain for an hour before finally getting an Uber home. When Ethan got back, it was already 1:00 AM. “Why are you still up? Didn’t I tell you not to wait for me? Remember, you said you wanted to be the most beautiful bride. No staying up late.” He carried a faint scent of gardenia. It was a perfume I never used. Looking at his genuinely concerned face, I couldn’t believe this was the same man. I didn’t answer. I just stared at him. “Where is the keychain I made for you?” He stiffened slightly. “The rain was too heavy. The leather strap got soaked and ruined. I sent it to a leather repair shop. I’ll get it back in a couple of days.” To prove it, he showed me a screenshot of his chat with a local repair shop owner. That keychain was something I made after running through dozens of stores to find the perfect leather strip when he got into a car accident two years ago. Even when the ring got loose before, he never let anyone else touch it. He always fixed it himself. I took a deep breath, telling myself it might just be a coincidence. After all, he had told me his breakup with his ex was toxic and messy. He said they would never speak again in this lifetime. “You still remember we’re trying on wedding dresses tomorrow, right?” He stroked my hair. “Of course.” But the next day, halfway to the bridal shop, his phone rang. I didn’t hear what the person on the other end said, but his expression instantly turned tense. He hung up and looked at me seriously. “A colleague has an emergency and needs my help. Go ahead and look at the dresses first. I’ll join you later.” I grabbed his arm instinctively. “But it’s impossible to get an Uber here. What’s so urgent that you have to leave right now?” He frowned, looking annoyed. “I really have to go, Chloe. Stop throwing a tantrum.” He practically pushed me out of the car. It was the first time he had ever abandoned me like this. In the past, no matter how urgent work was, he would always make sure I was settled before leaving. Watching his car speed away, I opened my phone. The Instagram account had just updated. Amber: My parents kept setting me up with men, but thank God he showed up. The screenshot of the call log she attached showed a phone number. The last four digits were identical to Ethan’s. My chest throbbed with agonizing pain. After what felt like an eternity, the manager of the bridal shop called. “Hi, Chloe. Your appointment time has passed. Are you still coming in today?” My throat felt blocked by a heavy stone. I choked out, “No, we’re not.” She hesitated. “In that case, we need you to come by and sign the cancellation form.” I took a cab to the bridal shop. But before I could walk in, I spotted a familiar figure through the glass window of a café across the street. Ethan was sitting next to Amber. Opposite them sat a couple of middle-aged people. They were laughing and chatting, looking incredibly intimate. I had seen that girl in his old cloud drive photos. She was his ex, Amber. The anxiety that had kept me awake all night finally settled. It was all true.

I opened our chat. My hands shook violently as I typed and deleted a dozen messages. Words couldn’t even describe the void in my chest. Finally, I snapped a photo of them through the window and sent it to him. Ethan checked his phone, and his head snapped up instantly. His eyes locked with mine. He whispered something to the table, rushed out of the café, and ran toward me. His face was a mask of panic. “Chloe, it’s not what you think! Her parents are forcing her to marry someone else, and I was just helping her out as a friend. You—” Before he could finish, a middle-aged woman rushed out of the café, grabbed my hair, and yanked it hard. “So you’re the homewrecker trying to steal my daughter’s fiancé? I knew you looked like trouble!” I screamed in pain, trying to pull away. “Get off me! I’m his actual girlfriend!” I looked at Ethan, who was frowning and trying to pull the woman off me. The next second, Amber ran over with tear-filled eyes and clutched Ethan’s sleeve tightly. “I know you’re his ex, Chloe! Even if you guys only broke up a few days ago, you’re still his ex! You trying to ruin our relationship makes you a disgusting side chick!” With that one sentence, the onlookers around us began to whisper, casting dirty looks at me. My eyes welled with tears as I looked at Ethan. “Ethan… did we break up?” He looked at me in pure panic. Before he could speak, the older woman, Brenda, slapped me hard across the face. “You shameless bitch! Still trying to seduce him right in front of us? I’ll teach you a lesson!” My cheek burned with sharp pain. No one in the crowd stepped in to help. My attempts to explain were drowned out by another slap. Ethan finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Brenda, stop! Please. You know I only have Amber in my heart. Let’s not waste our energy on irrelevant people. Come on, let’s go eat.” My heart stopped for a second. Brenda was pulled back. Before she left, she glared at me and spat on the ground. “You cheap trash! If I ever see you near Ethan again, I’ll ruin your face!” I collapsed onto the pavement, watching their retreating backs. Ethan turned around to look at me once. A fleeting look of pity crossed his eyes. Nobody helped me. I dragged myself up by leaning against the cold brick wall. As I reached the street corner, my phone buzzed with a message from Ethan. Ethan: Go to the urgent care and get cleaned up first. I’ll explain when I get home. Amber has severe depression and can’t handle any stress. Her mom was just being protective. Don’t take it personally. The man who once couldn’t bear to see me get a paper cut, the man who would have called the police or fought back if anyone dared to touch me, was now telling me to “don’t take it personally.” At this moment, I finally understood how much his ex actually meant to him. My lips trembled as I typed back: Chloe: We are done. Break up. After sending the message, I went to the ER. The doctor diagnosed me with a mild concussion. When I finally dragged myself back to our apartment with the medical report, I found my suitcases and boxes thrown outside the door. I tried to scan my fingerprint, but the lock was disabled. The passcode had been changed too. Just as I was about to bang on the door, it swung open. Ethan stood there, frowning. He lowered his voice, looking incredibly annoyed. “Amber’s parents insisted on seeing where we live. I had to bring them here. You’ll have to find a hotel for a few days.” “I packed your stuff. I transferred some money to your PayPal.” Before I could speak, Brenda’s loud voice echoed from inside. “Ethan? Who’s at the door this late?” Ethan hastily pushed me away, his face instantly turning cold and indifferent. “No one. Just the garbage collector asking for plastic bottles.” With that, he slammed the door shut in my face. The thunderous bang shook the stack of my luggage, and a framed photo sitting on top slid off. With a sharp shatter, the glass broke. It was our picture—the one Ethan used to keep proudly on the top shelf of the bookcase. A shard of glass grazed my cheek, leaving a thin, bleeding cut. Our smiling faces in the photo were now split in half. As I knelt down to pick up the broken glass, the door opened again. A plastic bag full of empty soda cans was thrown at my feet. Amber’s sweet, mocking voice drifted down. “Don’t come knocking on our door again. Stop bothering decent families.” I froze. But this was my home. This was the apartment we bought together for our upcoming wedding. I was the one whose life had just been shattered.

But I didn’t have the strength to fight back. The man who promised he would always shield me, who promised to always keep the porch light on so I’d never feel lost, had personally kicked me out. As I dragged my heavy suitcase out of the apartment complex, my phone buzzed. It was a text from my mother. Mom: Chloe, if you really love him that much and can’t live without him, your father and I won’t stop you anymore. We looked at the calendar, and next month is a great time. You guys can go register your marriage then. Tears finally spilled over, blurring my vision. For years, my parents had opposed our relationship because they didn’t want me to move across the country. I had spent years praying for them to give us their blessing. I never expected that when they finally did, it would be the exact moment I chose to let go. I looked back at the lit window of the apartment. The shadows of their “happy family” were reflected on the curtains. I wiped my tears and typed a short reply. Chloe: No need, Mom. We broke up. My mother called immediately. Fearing she would worry, I made up a quick excuse and hurriedly hung up. On Monday morning, the moment I walked into the office, everyone stared at me with weird, judging eyes. I was completely confused until my boss, Mr. Vance, called me into his office. On his desk lay a letter and his phone. The phone screen was playing the viral TikTok video of me being beaten and called a homewrecker in front of the café. It had already been shared hundreds of thousands of times. “Mr. Vance, it’s not like that! This is a huge misunderstanding!” He didn’t say anything. He just pointed to the envelope on his desk. I opened it. Ethan’s familiar handwriting felt like a blade slicing through my chest. I never could have imagined that the man who had written me hundreds of love letters would personally write an anonymous complaint to HR, accusing me of “moral turpitude” and “damaging the company’s reputation by homewrecking.” Mr. Vance sighed. “Chloe, I know you moved all the way here to marry your fiancé. I actually felt bad for you, and I was planning to give you a promotion and a raise this week. But look at this mess. Pack your things and leave. HR will wire your severance.” My fingers felt numb, and the letter slipped from my hand onto the floor. I called Ethan with shaking hands. He declined my calls repeatedly. Finally, he sent a text message. Ethan: They forced me to write that HR complaint. Just wait a little longer, okay? Once I’m done playing along with her family, I promise I’ll explain everything. Just go back to your parents’ place to avoid the drama for now. I shut off my phone and blocked his number. When I checked into a hotel, I was shocked to find my parents waiting in the lobby. They had heard about the breakup and rushed over, terrified that I was hurt. I didn’t want them to worry, so I lied and said it was just a mutual decision. All I wanted now was to pack up and leave this city forever. But just as we were about to check out, Amber and Brenda burst into the lobby, filming us with their phones. “Look, everyone! This is the homewrecker! She’s using my future son-in-law’s money to hide out in a fancy hotel! I’m telling you, they’re getting married soon. Return his money right now, or I’ll make your life living hell!” My father immediately stepped in front of me, shielding me. “What are you talking about? Who is your son-in-law? What does he have to do with my daughter?” Amber sobbed, her eyes red. “Sir, you seem like a good father. How could you raise a daughter who sleeps with other women’s fiancés?” My father’s face turned pale with anger. “That’s a lie! My daughter was with her boyfriend for five years, and they are already broken up! Stop harassing us and put that phone away! You are violating our privacy!” With that, he pushed Amber’s phone away. She lost her balance and tumbled to the floor. Brenda’s eyes went wide. “Assault! They’re assaulting us! Look at how violent these people are! Like father, like daughter! They support homewrecking and beat up innocent people! There is no justice!” Just then, a figure broke through the gathering crowd and rushed over.

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This was the twentieth time I threatened Ethan Sterling with divorce. But this time, my best friend, Chloe, didn’t try to stop me. Usually, she would do everything in her power to hold me back. She would even run to Ethan’s office herself to beg him to make peace with me. But this time, she was quiet. She helped me contact a lawyer, drafted the divorce papers, and ran around handling the paperwork at the family court. As I was about to sign, I couldn’t help but ask her why she was acting so differently. It was like I had touched a sore spot. She snapped, her voice full of sudden anger: “Do you have any idea that Lily had a miscarriage because of your drama this time? When are you going to stop?” Lily Vance. She was Ethan’s mistress. Seeing my shocked expression, Chloe sighed deeply: “Actually, Lily is my cousin. I was the one who introduced her to Ethan in the first place.” “For all these years, I’ve felt so guilty. I did everything I could to make it up to you, but Maya, I’m just so tired.” She put her hand on my shoulder: “Just do it for me. Stop fighting them, okay? Whatever they owe you, I’ll pay it back.” I went completely cold, feeling as if I had fallen into an ice cave. So, whether it was friendship or love… It had been a massive lie from the very beginning. While she wasn’t looking. I quietly opened the divorce agreement. And stroke by stroke, I signed my name.

The air in the room was dead silent. Then, my phone rang. The name “Lily” flashing on the screen felt like a cruel joke. Chloe’s expression softened instantly as she picked up: “Okay, I’m on my way.” Hanging up, she regained her usual cold composure: “I know you don’t really want a divorce. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have let me convince you to stay every other time.” “Go back, apologize to Ethan, and swear you’ll never harass Lily again. Let’s just end this drama here.” With that, she grabbed her car keys and rushed out of the family court building. Outside, the wind began to howl, and a heavy downpour started to splash against the windows. I gripped the signed divorce papers tightly. I suddenly remembered the first time I caught Ethan cheating. It was on a rainy day just like this. Two tangled bodies, a messy bed. Faced with my screaming and crying, Ethan had only looked at me with complete indifference: “It was just a temporary craving.” “Why are you crying? You’re still the only Mrs. Sterling.” That day, I went mad. I ran into the pouring rain and tried to jump into the river to end it all. It was Chloe who risked her life to drag me back. She cried and swore to me: “Ethan was just playing around.” “Don’t worry. I’ll find a way to make him change his mind and come back to you.” Later, every time Ethan cheated, I tried everything—slitting my wrists, threatening to jump from buildings, even trying to take him down with me. And every time, Chloe would stop me at all costs, telling me over and over that Ethan would change. But he never did. Not once. One was my husband, the other was my best friend. They used to argue passionately over whether I hated onions or cilantro in my food. They used to stand up for me whenever I was bullied, one fighting the bullies and the other pulling me to safety. Now, they were hurting me ruthlessly for the exact same woman. I guess nothing lasts forever. I tried to control my shaking hands—a symptom of my worsening anxiety—and took a big step out of the courthouse. From now on, I only rely on myself. When I got back to the house, luxury jewelry boxes were piled up across the dining table. This was Ethan’s usual routine whenever I brought up divorce. No apology, no explanation. Just a delivery of the latest designer jewelry the next day. But this time, as I walked closer, the deep, blood-red color of a ruby necklace flashed in my eyes. I instantly threw up. Years ago, my mother was publicly cyberbullied and called a cheap homewrecker. To prove her innocence, she jumped from a high-rise building right in front of me. Her body shattered on the pavement. Blood was everywhere. Since then, the color red has been my absolute worst nightmare. With trembling hands, I shut the jewelry box and dialed Ethan’s number on Snapchat. He didn’t pick up within ten seconds like he used to. One minute, thirty minutes, an hour passed. My phone was filled with missed call logs. I couldn’t sit still anymore. I stood up. I opened the location-tracking app I had installed on Ethan’s phone long ago. I grabbed the divorce papers and my car keys, and went out the door. Following the GPS. I found the estate in the suburbs that Ethan had bought for Lily. The moment I reached the gate, a security guard blocked me: “No unauthorized personnel allowed.”

The estate was heavily guarded, almost as if they were trying to keep a specific person out. I squeezed the divorce papers tighter and cleared my throat: “I’m looking for Ethan Sterling. I am his wife.” The guards looked at each other, then let out sneers: “What kind of nonsense is that? Everyone knows Mr. Sterling’s wife is Lily, the lady living inside.” They looked me up and down, judging my simple clothes: “A woman dressed like a total cheapskate claiming to be his wife? Who are you trying to fool?” I bit my lip, refusing to move from the gate. A few minutes later, a butler-like figure came out of the villa and whispered to the guards. The guards suddenly pulled out security batons: “Get lost! Mr. Sterling said he doesn’t know anyone named Maya Miller. Beat it!” With that, they shoved me hard onto the wet ground. One of them even raised his baton toward me. “What do you think you’re doing?” The sharp screech of tires stopped the guard in his tracks. Chloe scrambled out of her car and rushed over to pull me up: “You already caused Lily’s miscarriage. You knew Ethan wouldn’t want to see you. Why do this to yourself?” I bit my lip stubbornly, refusing to say a word. Chloe sighed: “Fine. Follow me inside.” The guards let us through. We walked through several iron gates and finally reached a grand, vintage-styled reception hall. The moment I stepped inside, I froze. The hall was filled with glamorous people, clinking glasses, and a festive atmosphere. And right in the center of the room hung a massive, beautiful wedding portrait of Ethan and Lily. It was a wedding reception. Our former business partners, mutual friends, and college classmates were all there. The very same people who used to look down on Lily for being a homewrecker. Now, they were all lining up to offer her their warmest congratulations. Through the crowd, Ethan spotted me. His body went rigid. He pushed through the guests and walked over: “Did Chloe bring you in?” I remained silent. He let out a heavy sigh: “Lily has been with me for years without any legal title, and she just lost our baby. She just wanted a small wedding celebration to cheer her up.” “It’s our special day. Can you please stop making a scene?” He reached out, trying to pat my head like he used to, but I flinched away violently. His hand froze in midair, and his eyes instantly turned cold and disgusted: “Fine. What do you want this time?” “Designer jewelry? A penthouse with a river view? Or more shares in my company?” My heart ached sharply. Over the years, whenever I wanted a divorce. Chloe would always tell me that if I wanted to hold onto a man, I had to grab his wallet. So every time I caught Ethan cheating, Chloe would help me demand an outrageous amount of money and assets. And Ethan always gave them to me. But it only made him despise me more and more. I gripped the divorce papers, about to speak. Suddenly, Lily rushed straight toward me: “Why are you still here?!” A sharp, burning slap landed on my face. With tear-filled eyes, she glared at me: “You really are the daughter of a homewrecker. Just like your mother, you are toxic, vicious, and pathetic.” My heart felt like it was hit by a sledgehammer. My eyes went red: “My mother was not a homewrecker!” Ethan took a step forward, shielding Lily behind him, and glared at me with fury: “Enough! How much longer are you going to keep up this drama?” The impatience and disgust in his eyes were completely overflowing. I froze. The next second, someone shoved me hard from the side. Chloe, now wearing a bridesmaid dress, looked down at me with a cold face: “Your mother was a homewrecker, Maya. The family she ruined back then… was Lily’s.”

I froze completely. I looked at Chloe, then at Ethan. During high school, my mother remarried, only to be publicly accused of being a homewrecker. Later, we found out the man had lied about being single. He had a wife and a daughter. But no matter how much my mother pleaded, everyone labeled her a homewrecker. The day the man’s wife came to our door with a mob to humiliate her publicly, my mother jumped from the building. The man vanished without a trace to escape the scandal. After that, the rumor that I was “the daughter of a homewrecker” spread like wildfire at school. My locker was constantly filled with trash. My test papers were vandalized with red ink. People whispered behind my back wherever I walked: “Like mother, like daughter. She’ll grow up to be a homewrecker too!” I fell into such a deep depression that I had to drop out of school. It was Chloe who dragged me out of bed, washed my hair, and helped me clean up. And it was Ethan who walked me to and from school every day, snapping at anyone who dared to whisper: “Did you see it with your own eyes? Or did your own mother get cheated on?” Those bullies were always left speechless, and eventually, the rumors faded. The night we graduated high school, Ethan confessed his love to me. Before I could even nod, Chloe was already crying tears of joy: “Ethan, you know what Maya fear the most. Swear to me, swear you’ll never let her bear the shame of being cheated on!” Ethan immediately went down on one knee and swore to the heavens: “In this life, I will only love Maya. If I ever betray her, I hope I die a horrible death.” The three of us had such wonderful times. From high school to college. We started the company together, we were inseparable, we lived in cheap basement apartments and shared expired bread. But everything changed silently the moment Lily appeared. I could never understand why. Now, finally, I understood. “So… Lily is the daughter of the woman who drove my mother to her death?” Chloe quietly pulled Lily further behind her back: “What do you mean ‘drove her to death’?” “Lily told me the whole truth about what happened back then.” “It was your mother who ruined her parents’ marriage. She knowingly destroyed Lily’s family.” “After that, Lily had to live with different relatives for years. Her college years were a hundred times harder than yours.” My lips trembled uncontrollably: “You felt sorry for her… so you introduced Ethan to her?” Chloe avoided my gaze, but she didn’t deny it. “Enough!” Ethan stepped forward, looking at me with a cold face: “Even if Chloe hadn’t introduced us, falling in love with Lily was only a matter of time.” Looking at his determined eyes. I suddenly laughed. I laughed so hard that tears started rolling down my face. They looked at me defensively. The moment my hand reached into my bag. Ethan panicked and yelled: “Stop her! Don’t let her hurt Lily!” Several bodyguards rushed forward, pinning me brutally to the cold floor. Fists and kicks rained down on me. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the agony in my heart. I suppressed a groan, wiping the blood from my lip: “Ethan… I came here to give you the divorce papers.”

His body went stiff. He looked down at me in utter disbelief: “Maya, when are you going to stop this childish drama?” Right. To him, every time I mentioned divorce, it was just a dramatic show. The suicide attempts, the screaming—it was always loud, but in the end, I would always listen to Chloe and go back to him. But only I knew that this time was different. The bodyguards let go of me, and I slowly stood up: “The jewelry, the cars, the house… I don’t want any of it. Just sign the papers.” Ethan’s hand, which was wrapping around Lily’s waist, froze: “I’m not signing. What kind of reverse psychology is this?” Lily had stopped crying by now, looking anxious: “Ethan, you promised me you’d give me a real family.” Ethan was silent for a long moment before whispering to her: “Sweetheart, I also promised her that I would give you my love, but keep her as my legal wife.” Lily turned her head away, looking incredibly hurt and angry. Seeing Ethan’s suspicious gaze, my heart felt a sharp prick. I had expected this reaction. I pulled a share transfer agreement out of my bag: “You’ve been wanting me to give back my shares in Sterling Group, right? Sign the divorce papers, and these are yours.” Chloe grabbed my arm tightly: “Are you insane?! You got those shares when we first founded the company!” “You can give up anything else, but if you lose those shares, you’ll literally have nothing!” I ignored her, keeping my eyes fixed on Ethan: “I know you’re currently bidding against Julian Hayes. With these shares, you’ll have absolute control over the company.” Ethan stayed silent for a long time, his eyes narrowing: “Maya, I can agree to the divorce. But you better not be playing any games with me.” I looked him straight in the eyes: “Ethan, let me go, and let yourself go. I’m just so tired.” As if triggered by my words, he snatched the papers from my hand and quickly signed them: “Fine! Let’s see how many days you can survive out there without the protection of the Sterling Group!” “I’ll be waiting for the day you come crawling back, begging me to remarry you!” I didn’t say a word. I just stared at his signature on the paper. “It’s signed. Now get the hell out of here!” He threw the papers right at my face. I didn’t cry. I didn’t yell. I just turned around and walked away. Behind me, Chloe was screaming my name: “Maya! Are you crazy? How are you going to survive without Ethan?” “Just because I didn’t stop you this one time, you actually went through with it?!” She tried to run after me. But Ethan’s cold voice stopped her: “Let her go. We’ve protected her too well all these years.” “It’s time she faces the harsh reality of the world. Only then will she realize how good she had it with us.” My footsteps paused for a fraction of a second. He didn’t know. My world didn’t have any storms. All the pain and disasters in my life were brought to me by them. I went back to the house and began packing. The high school photos, the college postcards. I left behind every single memory of the three of us. Just a few clothes and my ID documents. In this house, which was already taken over by Lily’s things, my belongings were pathetic. But at least it made packing quick. As I dragged my suitcase into the airport, a man in a black suit was already waiting for me: “Miss Miller, you did Mr. Hayes a huge favor this time. He has arranged everything for your trip.” “Don’t worry. As long as you don’t want to be found, Ethan Sterling will never find you.” I nodded to the man, turned off my phone, and boarded Julian Hayes’s private jet. Two hours later, the plane landed. A flood of text messages and missed calls popped up the moment I turned my phone back on.

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My roommate said her period had started and asked if I had a spare tampon. I didn’t lend her one. Instead, I stood right up in the middle of the lecture hall and shouted to the entire class: “Hey, Mindy’s on her period and needs a tampon! Does anyone have one she can borrow?” In my previous life, I had been kind. I rummaged through my bag and handed her one. How was I to know that three days later, she would test positive for HIV and face expulsion? Choking back tears, she had told everyone: “I only borrowed one tampon from Chloe. The plastic wrapping was already torn open, but I didn’t think much of it at the time…” “I don’t know if she did it on purpose, but now I’m infected. My life is completely ruined.” Dean Vance didn’t even listen to my explanation. He suspended me on the spot and called the police, accusing me of intentionally transmitting an infectious disease. Not only did I lose my degree and my study abroad fellowship. I was doxed and relentlessly cyberbullied on Instagram and TikTok, making it impossible to live a normal life. In the end, I jumped from a highway bridge, ending my own life. Only after my death did I find out that Mindy had been infected long before that day. She had been sleeping with multiple guys at the same time. Fearing expulsion once her test results leaked, she used me as a scapegoat. She also wanted to get me kicked out of school so she could steal my slot for the prestigious study abroad fellowship. In this life, I rejected you in front of the entire class. Let’s see how you’re going to pin your disease on me this time.

“Chloe! Are you out of your mind?” Mindy stood up abruptly. More than forty pairs of eyes in the lecture hall instantly locked onto her. She clutched her lower stomach, her eyes already pooling with tears. “If you didn’t want to lend me one, you could have just said so! Did you really have to scream it out?” I capped my pen, my face completely expressionless. “A period is a perfectly normal biological process. It’s not something to be ashamed of.” “You were too shy to ask, so I was just helping you out.” She was left completely speechless. Around us, some students ducked their heads to hide their snickers, while others muttered that I was being too blunt. Mindy glared at me. “Never mind.” She grabbed her bag, hunched over, and walked out of the classroom. After class, the Snapchat group chat instantly blew up. Someone joked: [Lmao, Chloe’s shout literally woke me up from my nap today.] [Mindy’s face turned completely green.] [But honestly, girls shouldn’t blast each other like that over a tampon.] Mindy didn’t reply in the group chat. Instead, she posted a picture on her Instagram Story. There was no caption. Just a photo of a hospital corridor, featuring an IV stand, a sterile white wall, and a glimpse of her pale wrist. Ten minutes later, the replies poured in. [What happened, babe?] [Is it bad cramps?] She sent a blanket reply to everyone: [I’m fine. It was just my own carelessness.] The next day, Mindy didn’t show up for lectures. By the third day, she still hadn’t returned to our suite. My other two suitemates, Hailey and Jessica, were whispering in the common area. “What is actually going on with Mindy?” “She said it’s too private to talk about.” In the afternoon, right after I stepped out of the library, my phone rang. It was Dean Vance. “Chloe, come to the student affairs office right now.” When I arrived, Mindy was sitting on the couch, her face deathly pale, clutching a medical report in her hand. Dr. Cooper from the campus clinic was also there. Dean Vance sat behind his desk, his brow furrowed in a deep scowl. “Chloe, Mindy has raised a very serious accusation against you.” Mindy looked up at me. Her eyes were red and swollen, as if she had been crying all night. “Chloe, I didn’t want to make a big deal out of this,” she said, her voice trembling. “But I’m just so scared.” Dean Vance slid the medical report across the desk. “Mindy got tested at the university hospital. She tested positive for an infection.” He paused, adjusting his glasses. “She claims that a few days ago, she borrowed a feminine hygiene product from you.” I asked, “Did she actually borrow one?” Mindy burst into tears immediately. “You didn’t lend me one in class that day, but you did the night before in our dorm! I asked you, and you grabbed one from your drawer.” “I saw the plastic packaging was slightly torn at the corner, but I didn’t think much of it then.” Dean Vance said in a stern voice, “Chloe, denying this won’t help you. You must cooperate with the university and go to the clinic for a full panel test immediately.” “I never gave her anything.” “It’s not up to you to decide whether you did or didn’t,” Dean Vance’s voice grew heavier. “You live in the same suite, share a bathroom, and are close. For the safety of the other students, you must get tested right now.” I looked him straight in the eye. “I refuse.” The office door wasn’t fully closed. Two students passing by in the hallway stopped in their tracks. “What infection?” “Is it… that kind of disease?” “She refuses to get tested? Isn’t that basically admitting she’s guilty?” The whispers cut through the air like tiny needles. Dean Vance’s face darkened even further. “Think carefully, Chloe. If you refuse to cooperate, the administration will treat this as a severe disciplinary violation.” Mindy kept her head down, her shoulders shaking violently as she sobbed. Meanwhile, I stood by the door, listening to the footsteps gathering outside. Everyone was waiting for me to break.

The rumor spread like wildfire. By 7:00 PM, someone had already posted anonymously on the campus Reddit board: [Drama in Dorm Building 3. Someone intentionally spread a disease to their roommate.] [I heard it was through a shared tampon.] [For real? That is fucking disgusting.] When I walked back to my dorm, the door was slightly ajar. The chatter inside abruptly died. Hailey was sitting on her bed, and Jessica was standing by her closet. The moment they saw me, their expressions looked as if they were looking at a walking plague. I put my books on my desk. Jessica immediately took a half-step back. “Chloe, can you please not touch the common table for now?” I looked at her. “Why?” She looked a bit embarrassed. “It’s not like that… It’s just, until things are cleared up, we all want to be careful.” Hailey whispered, “Mindy is already devastated. She’s been crying all afternoon, saying her life is over.” “She’s only twenty.” I pulled out my chair and sat down. “And?” Hailey blinked, stunned. I continued, “Just because she’s devastated, she gets to frame me for something that never happened?” Jessica frowned. “Can you not be so cold-blooded? She tested positive. Who would make a joke about something like this?” “And since I haven’t been tested, you all have already pronounced me guilty?” No one answered. The only sound in the room was the low hum of the ceiling fan. A few minutes later, Mindy walked in. The second she crossed the threshold, Hailey rushed over to support her. “Mindy, why are you back? Didn’t the doctor say you should rest?” Mindy shook her head. She looked at me, tears rolling down her cheeks instantly. “Chloe, I really don’t want to blame you.” “If it was an accident on your part, I can forgive you.” The moment she said that, Jessica’s gaze toward me grew even colder. I let out a soft laugh. “If you don’t want to blame me, then keep my name out of your mouth.” Mindy’s sobbing paused for a second. Her fingers clenched tightly around the hem of her cardigan. “I’m just telling the truth…” “Truth requires evidence,” I said. The atmosphere in the room completely froze. Ten minutes later, Dean Vance sent a notification to the department group chat on WhatsApp. [To ensure the health and safety of our students, Chloe will be temporarily relocated from her current dorm room, effective immediately, pending further administrative investigation.] A stream of “Acknowledged” quickly followed in the chat. Hailey let out a sigh of relief when she saw the message. Jessica muttered, “This is for the best. For everyone.” For the best. I had heard that phrase too many times in my past life. When they forced me out of the dorm, they said it was for the best. When they revoked my research funding, they said it was for the best. When they forced me to take a leave of absence, they said it was for the best. I packed a few clothes and my laptop. I didn’t take anything extra. Because I knew this was only the beginning. Even the resident advisor downstairs looked at me with pity and suspicion. She handed me the key to a temporary isolation room, her voice barely a whisper. “Don’t blame the school, honey. Parents are breathing down our necks right now.” I took the key. “I know.” “If you really have… something, get treated early. Don’t drag it out.” I looked up at her. She quickly averted her eyes in embarrassment. I carried my bag toward the end of the hallway. The temporary room was in the basement corner, right next to the utility closet. It was damp and smelled of mold. I tossed my bag onto the bare mattress. My phone buzzed. It was a text from Dean Vance. [Your President’s Merit Scholarship application has been temporarily suspended.] I turned off my phone and sat on the edge of the damp bed. My heart was completely calm. Mindy probably thought she had won half the battle by getting me kicked out. But she didn’t know. I was simply waiting for her to blow this up as big as possible.

The next morning, I went back to my old dorm to grab my textbooks. Two clear plastic bins were piled up outside the door. My towel, mug, face wash, and slippers were all stuffed inside. A sticky note was taped to the top: [Please do not bring your personal belongings back into the common area.] A few students walked down the hallway, slowing their pace. “Is that her?” “Yeah, I heard she’s quarantined in the basement.” “She actually has the nerve to come back and get her stuff?” I crouched down and began transferring my things into a tote bag, one by one. Hailey came out of the suite. When she saw me, she turned pale. “Chloe, why didn’t you text us before coming?” “Do I need a permit to get my own books?” Her lips trembled. “No… it’s just, everyone is really scared right now.” “Scared of what?” I stood up. “Scared of me breathing?” Her face flushed red. Jessica poked her head out from the door. “Cut the sarcasm, Chloe. Mindy is in a really fragile state right now. Can you please stop triggering her?” I looked past her into the room. Mindy was lying in her bed, her privacy curtain half-drawn. She didn’t show her face, but she let out a soft, dry cough. As if to remind everyone that she was the victim here. I walked over to my desk and noticed my drawers had been rummaged through. My notebooks were piled messily, and my class materials were scattered all over the floor. I turned around. “Who touched my things?” Jessica braced herself and said, “We just helped you pack them so no one would accidentally touch them.” “Helped me?” I picked up a notebook with a ripped cover. “Did you have my permission?” Hailey said softly, “It’s an emergency situation.” Jessica let out a cold laugh. “You seriously have time to complain about this? If the Dean confirms the infection, you might not even be allowed to stay enrolled.” At 10:00 AM, Dean Vance called me into his office again. A printed document lay on his desk. He got straight to the point. “Chloe, the situation is escalating. Mindy’s parents contacted the Chancellor last night, and they are extremely furious.” “The university suggests that you voluntarily submit a withdrawal form.” He pushed the paper toward me. “This way, it won’t look too bad on your official transcript, and you’ll still have options for your future.” I looked at the bold letters on the paper: Voluntary Withdrawal Application. I pushed it right back. “I’m not signing it.” Dean Vance’s face darkened. “Chloe, don’t back yourself into a corner.” “I’m not backing myself into a corner. You are trying to force me to confess to something I didn’t do.” Dean Vance frowned. “Your attitude is highly problematic. Mindy has suffered severe trauma. As her suitemate, the least you can do is cooperate.” “Cooperating doesn’t mean admitting guilt.” Dr. Cooper, who had been quiet, finally spoke up. “Chloe, from a medical standpoint, we need you to take a test as soon as possible to rule out any possibilities.” I turned to him. “I can take a test, but not under the assumption that I am already guilty.” Dean Vance slammed his hand on the desk. “You are in no position to bargain right now!” More students gathered outside the open door. The walls in this building were paper-thin. Any raised voice could be heard across the entire floor. Dean Vance lowered his tone. “We have a departmental town hall meeting this afternoon to announce the administration’s decision. You’d better think it over before then.” I grabbed my bag. “I’ve already thought it over.” As I stepped out of the office, I saw Mindy standing at the end of the hallway. She was wearing a white coat, her face completely drained of color. Seeing me leave, she slowly pulled down her face mask. She stared at me, her lips curling into a smug, triumphant smirk. Like she was looking at a bug she had finally crushed into the dirt.

The afternoon town hall meeting was held in the department’s main lecture hall. It was officially labeled as a “Campus Safety and Health Seminar.” But everyone knew exactly what it was about. The moment I walked in, the buzzing room fell dead silent. A single seat in the very front row was left empty. A piece of paper was taped to the desk: [Chloe] They were putting me on display under the spotlight. I sat down. Whispers erupted behind me immediately. “I can’t believe she actually showed up.” “She’s got thick skin, I’ll give her that.” “If I were her, I would have dropped out by now.” I didn’t look back. Mindy sat in the middle of the third row. Hailey and Jessica sat on either side of her, holding her hands. Mindy wore a mask, her eyes red and puffy, looking as though she might faint at any second. Dean Vance walked up to the podium and turned on the microphone. “We are holding this meeting today because of a recent incident that has severely impacted student well-being and campus order.” He didn’t say my name. But his eyes were locked onto me. And following his gaze, the entire room turned to look at me. “Based on our preliminary inquiry, a student has engaged in unsafe personal conduct and concealed health risks, causing physical harm to a peer and sparking widespread panic.” “The department is proposing disciplinary probation for Chloe, along with the immediate suspension of her scholarships, research privileges, and honors consideration. Depending on the investigation’s outcome, we will recommend suspension or forced withdrawal.” A collective gasp echoed through the lecture hall. Someone muttered, “That’s actually too soft on her.” “Mindy is the one who got ruined.” “She should be expelled.” Right then, Mindy stood up. Tears streamed down her face. “Dean Vance, may I say a few words?” Dean Vance nodded. She walked to the front of the room, her body trembling slightly. “I know everyone has been worried about me these past few days.” “Thank you.” She sniffled. “Actually, I don’t want to hold a grudge against Chloe. I know she’s been under a lot of pressure with her studies, and our scholarship competition has been intense. Since we share a suite, maybe there was just some… misunderstanding.” She turned her tearful eyes to me. “If she didn’t do it on purpose, I am willing to forgive her.” What a beautiful act of forgiveness. Before I was even proven guilty, she had already climbed onto the judge’s seat to grant me mercy. Some girls in the crowd started tearing up. Hailey was outright crying. Jessica held Mindy’s shoulders, raising her voice so everyone could hear: “Mindy, you are way too sweet!” A few people started clapping. Soon, the applause spread across the entire room. Sitting in the front row, I watched them all get deeply moved by her “grace.” Mindy finished her speech and walked toward me. She stopped right in front of my desk, her voice soft like a sigh. “Chloe, I just really hope you won’t hurt anyone else in the future.” I looked up at her. And suddenly, I laughed. Mindy’s expression froze for a fraction of a second. She couldn’t understand. Why would someone who was about to be suspended, disgraced, and stripped of her scholarship still be laughing? Dean Vance frowned. “Chloe, if you have any objections to the disciplinary action, you can file an appeal privately after the meeting. Do not disrupt the assembly.” I stood up. “No need to wait.” “Since you’ve announced your decision in public, I will respond in public.” Dean Vance’s face shifted. “Sit down!” I didn’t budge. “Sir, every single sentence you just spoke constitutes a public accusation against my character and reputation.” “If the department insists on handling it this way, I will call the police immediately, and file a formal complaint with the Title IX office and the board of education.” The room went dead silent. Dean Vance glared at me. “Are you threatening the administration?” “I am protecting my legal rights.” I looked up at the projector screen. “Give me three minutes. After three minutes, you can decide whether you still want to suspend me.” Dean Vance’s face was grim. “No.” I pulled out my phone and unlocked the screen. “Fine. I’ll dial 911 right now. Let’s let the police figure out who is slandering whom, and who is helping them cover it up.” Another professor stood up, walked over to Dean Vance, and whispered in his ear. Dean Vance’s expression was incredibly ugly. After a few tense seconds, he spat out through his teeth: “Three minutes.” I plugged my phone into the projector system. Mindy stared at me, a flicker of genuine terror finally appearing in the depths of her eyes. I tapped on the first file. The moment the screen lit up, the entire room gasped in unison.

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On Christmas Eve, my parents left me home alone again, claiming they had to work overtime for triple pay. Thinking about how they had done this for the past twenty years, I couldn’t stand the cold, empty house anymore. I packed some homemade lasagna and decided to surprise them at their workplace. But to my shock, my parents—who always whined about how hard they had to work just to get by—stepped out of a luxury Maybach. They had their arms wrapped around a girl my age. Laughing and chatting, they walked into a five-star hotel. “Mom, Dad, is it really okay to leave Ethan home alone?” the girl asked. My mom brushed it off. “It’s fine, Chloe. He’s used to it.” My dad scoffed. “He can’t be compared to you. You are our only treasure!” I turned and walked away. They had spent my entire life pretending to be poor just to deceive me. This time, I didn’t care about their company anymore. *** Back home, I dumped all the food on the table into the trash. If this were yesterday, I would have never done that. Since I was a little boy, I was told our family was broke. My clothes and food were all bought with money my parents supposedly pinched and saved. I barely ever had new clothes. Every season, my mom would bring home a bag of second-hand clothes. She would tell me, “These are from my coworker’s son. They’re clean. We don’t need to waste money on new ones.” I didn’t know where she got those oversized rags. Throughout my childhood, I never wore anything new. I always dragged around in ill-fitting clothes, and my classmates mocked me, calling me the dumpster diver. I had to study like crazy, thinking that one day I could buy my own clothes through my own hard work. During holidays, I handed over all the cash I got from relatives in Christmas cards, hoping to ease their financial burden. But they didn’t have any burden at all. I looked up the license plate. That Maybach belonged to the Harringtons, the richest family in the city. The Harrington heiress had once driven that exact car with a famous male celebrity, making headlines. I had seen the gossip news before. The face of the heiress was the exact same girl I saw tonight—Chloe. So, it turned out I was a billionaire’s son all along. I let out a bitter laugh, wiped my nose, and went to my parents’ bedroom to look around. Maybe they were too careless, or maybe they just didn’t care. They actually left their financial contracts in the drawer at home. When I saw a hundred-million-dollar contract signed with my dad’s name, with a luxury Montblanc pen clipped to it, my heart completely shattered. I put everything back exactly as it was, went back to my room, and pulled the blanket over my head. I just hoped that when I woke up, it would all be a bad dream. *** The next morning, my parents were busy in the kitchen. I looked at the breakfast on the table and suddenly realized something. Who has gourmet lobster benedict for breakfast on a normal day? The taste of this lobster was exactly the same as the expensive feast my college professor had treated us to last month. I glanced at the trash bag by the door. Sure enough, there was a luxury catering box inside. “Mom, Dad, did we hit the lottery?” I sat at the table and stared at them. My mom looked startled. “Ethan, what are you talking about?” “How else could we afford such an expensive lobster breakfast?” I pointed at the trash bag. My mom’s face instantly turned pale. My dad quickly chimed in with a fake laugh. “Oh, that! My boss had a big party last night and asked us to work late. He gave me the leftovers. I couldn’t bear to eat it myself, so I brought it back for us.” “With the little money your mom and I make, how could we ever afford to buy something like this?” “I see,” I nodded, sipping the coffee. I sneered in my mind. That breakfast box cost at least two hundred dollars. And their dinner last night probably cost tens of thousands. If they were truly poor, I would have found this breakfast delicious. But now, it tasted like ash. I took only two bites and stood up. “I’m full.” “Ethan, why did you eat so little? Are you feeling sick?” My mom looked incredibly anxious. Her worried eyes didn’t seem fake. I shook my head and forced a smile. “No, aren’t we going to Grandpa’s place today? I’m saving room for lunch!” Hearing this, my mom let out a sigh of relief. My dad looked guilty and was about to say something when his phone rang. I caught a glimpse of the screen. The caller ID read: *My Precious Daughter Chloe*. Chloe was his precious daughter. Then what was I? My dad quickly walked out to the balcony to answer it. My mom followed him. I could faintly hear her whispering, telling him to be quiet and not let me find out. My heart went completely cold. They had always known. They were just colluding to keep me in the dark. I even began to wonder if my life was just some sick version of *The Truman Show*. But their deceit was so terribly real. #### Chapter 2 *** After hanging up the phone, my dad came over to me. He pulled out a cash envelope and handed it to me. “Ethan, something came up at the office. I have to go in!” My mom comforted me, “It’s okay, honey. I’ll go to Grandpa’s with you.” I nodded, took the envelope, stuffed it into my pocket, and got ready to leave with my mom. When we arrived at the run-down apartment in the working-class suburb, my grandpa opened the door. The moment he saw me, he pulled me in. “Ethan is here! Come in, quick. It’s freezing outside!” His hands were soft and smooth. They didn’t look like the hands of a retired factory worker at all. My grandma saw me and immediately handed me a Christmas card with some cash inside. I took it. “Thanks, Grandma.” Then, I slid it straight into my pocket. My mom looked stunned. Normally, the moment I received any money, I would hand it right over to her. Back then, my mom would always smile and say, “Ethan is such a good, sensible boy.” But today, I broke the pattern. Even my grandma was surprised for a moment. Then she laughed, “Look at our Ethan, he’s learning to keep his pocket money now!” I shrugged and smiled. “I’m not hiding it. Mom said New Year brings new beginnings. I just want to keep some cash for myself.” “Yes, Ethan is very independent. He even pays for his own college tuition and rent by tutoring!” My mom added. I knew without even looking that Grandma had given me fifty dollars at most. Compared to my college tuition, this fifty dollars was a joke. They were so incredibly rich, yet they pressured and exploited me at every turn. I didn’t understand. Why was this “character-building hardship” only targeted at me? What did they mean by this? Grandma didn’t say anything else and went to the kitchen to fetch the food. But after taking a few bites of the lunch she brought out, I completely lost my appetite. The dishes were exactly the same as the ones I saw at the five-star hotel last night. Now I was absolutely sure. The whole family was filthy rich. My parents were pretending to be poor, and even my grandparents were putting on a show to play along. After lunch, my mom got a phone call and rushed off, claiming she had to cover a shift at work. My grandparents began to yawn, looking exhausted. I didn’t want to overstay my welcome, so I stood up to leave. But I didn’t go far. I hid around the corner of the street and watched quietly. Sure enough, not even twenty minutes after I left, a luxury stretch Lincoln pulled up. Surrounded by a small crowd of bodyguards, my grandparents got into the car without looking back and drove away. I took a deep breath, pulled up my face mask, and walked back toward the apartment building. I saw a couple of professional cleaners heading up. One of them sighed, “I don’t get these rich folks. They only come to live in this dump once a year, cook a single meal, and then leave!” “Well, they pay a fortune for the cleaning service every time!” “You don’t know? This family has been doing this every year for over twenty years. They own a massive mansion in the southern hills. This is just how rich people ‘experience’ the simple life!” Hearing their conversation, my heart went completely numb. The richest family in the city, the Harringtons. Their estate was in Beverly Heights. I rode my bike all the way there. When I saw the golden, magnificent mansion nestled halfway up the hill, guarded by security, I realized this was a world I could never have dreamed of. As I approached, a security guard immediately barked, “Who are you? Get lost!” I took a deep breath. Just as I turned to leave, a luxury motorcycle roared past me. I had seen this bike online. It cost at least fifty thousand dollars. The person riding it was Chloe. #### Chapter 3 *** She saw me too and looked visibly surprised. She stopped the bike, looked me up and down, and let out a mocking sneer. “Well, you’re not entirely stupid. You actually found this place.” I froze. So, she knew about my existence too! “Why? Why are you doing this to me?” “Chloe, am I adopted? Or is this some kind of sick social experiment, and I’m just your lab rat?” Chloe seemed to read my confusion. She shook her head with a smirk. “No, you are a biological Harrington. You’re my actual brother.” “As for why you were raised like a beggar, there’s only one reason. Because I am the sole heir of the Harrington empire!” “This isn’t a place for someone like you. Now get lost!” “Oh, don’t look at me like that, poor boy. Our parents spent a lot of effort raising you!” “By the way, don’t bother visiting Grandpa and Grandma during holidays anymore. They are old. They don’t have the energy to play house with you.” Chloe revved her engine and sped through the gates. I stood outside for a long time, finally understanding everything. It seemed my birth and Chloe’s were tied to some twisted rule about family inheritance. But what did I do wrong? I only wanted my parents’ genuine love. They had lied to me for so many years, yet their past kindness to me felt so real. But now, looking at the mansion and that luxury bike, I began to doubt how much of that kindness was actually real. I turned around and left. Before leaving, I called my dad. “Dad, are you coming home for dinner tonight?” “No, Ethan. I have to work late. I get triple pay for these three holiday days!” “Your mom is working late too!” But through the phone, I could clearly hear the roar of Chloe’s motorcycle engine and the distant laughter of a garden party. I softly murmured an “okay” and made my decision. When I got home, I packed my things. At the same time, I applied for the special off-grid research program my university had posted. The project was located at an isolated station in the Alaskan wilderness. Once I went, I would be there for three years, completely cut off from the outside world. After packing, I printed out a photo of Chloe’s back that I had snapped earlier and left it on my nightstand. That night, they didn’t come home. I was all alone. I tried calling my dad again, but no one answered. Meanwhile, Apex Group—the Harrington family’s flagship company—was handing out massive holiday bonuses. Some employees posted their gratitude on Instagram. Even a low-level employee received a five-thousand-dollar cash bonus! Many others flexed their luxury company retreats online. My parents were right there in the photos. My dad was wearing a custom tuxedo, and my mom was holding a glass of expensive champagne, looking elegant and wealthy. Chloe was surrounded by a crowd like a princess. They even posted a perfect family portrait. My parents probably assumed I was too busy working part-time jobs to pay attention to social media gossip. But they forgot that I was just a normal kid. How could a boy raised in forced poverty not look at the wealthy world online? A reporter in the video asked about their holiday plans. My dad smiled at the camera. “My daughter, Chloe, is twenty-two this year. We go on an international family trip every year. We’re flying out tonight!” My heart sank. I was twenty-two too. But the furthest place I had ever been was a school field trip to the local zoo. I let out a dry laugh, took my birth certificate and Social Security card, and looked at them. It was almost funny. When I started college, my parents insisted on removing my name from their household lease, telling me to register my own address. They said I was an adult now and had to be responsible for myself. Well, this made it much easier to leave. I grabbed my suitcase and walked out the door without looking back. Marcus, Evelyn, goodbye forever.

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My grandfather was a despicable thief. He stole my grandmother’s name, her future and every word she wrote. Then fled that soot-choked West Virginia town with another woman. What happened next? He won a Pulitzer and lectured on journalistic conscience. The other woman became a bestseller on my grandmother’s words, flaunting her “artistic soul” to cameras. My grandmother, the real Eleanor Vance, remained trapped. Slandered as a whore, she died with her eyes open. Fifty years later, I sat in the Apex Media interview room. Across from me sat Victoria Croft, Columbia’s brightest journalism prodigy. I flipped her resume. My fingers locked stiff. Two names leapt off the page. One hated for life. One hunted for decades. I shut the folder and lifted my eyes. She smiled politely, waiting for me to speak. “You’re out.” … Her smile froze. “I’m sorry. What?” My voice became clearer. “You didn’t pass the interview.” The other interviewers traded glances. Mark, the deputy editor, leaned in. “Ava, she’s only twenty-two.” “National journalism gold medalist.” “Published in The New Yorker.” “She’s a talent.” “Think twice maybe?” Victoria overheard. Her back straightened, growing taller. “My mind is made up.” I pushed her resume aside. “Miss Croft, you did not pass. Please leave.” The room held its collective breath. Victoria’s composure cracked. She stood, leaning on the table. “What do you mean by this?”

I said nothing, studying her face. The eyes, the nose, the jawline. A blinding match to that old photo.  Under the table, my hands clenched.  She glared, narrowing her eyes. “Do you even know who I am?” “My grandfather’s Julian Croft, Pulitzer Lifetime Achievement winner.” “My grandmother’s Isabel Vance, celebrated National Book Award author.” “My parents were senior editors at The Washington Post. Everyone in media knows their names.” “I graduated first in my class from Columbia.” With every line, her arrogance surged. Finally, she was looking down at me. “Tell me. How am I unqualified?”

The pen name Isabel Vance belonged to the real Eleanor Vance. “Resumes are only paper.” I stared at her, voice flat. “In this industry, I value integrity and clean backgrounds. As for your family…” I paused, wrinkling her resume. “They aren’t assets here.” “You may leave now.” Victoria froze. This was perhaps the first public humiliation of her life. Her face burned crimson. “This is petty revenge!” She snatched her resume, pointing at me.  “Ava Hayes, right? Mark my words. One call from my grandfather, every media outlet will blacklist you.” She stormed out, casting one venomous glare at the door. “Ava, you—” The other interviewers tried to cut in. I raised a hand. “Move on. Bring in the next one.”

The next three candidates were all outstanding. Back in my office, I organized their profiles. Sterling, the firm’s senior partner, stormed in. “Ava, are you insane? Why reject Victoria?” “Do you know her family background?” His words flew. “Her grandfather is Julian Croft, a journalism giant.” “He holds deep, far-reaching ties to our board of directors!” “You rejected his granddaughter. Do you know the consequences?” “Send the offer. Now.” “Too late.” I locked eyes with him. “I sent her file back already.” Sterling froze. His phone rang right then. One glance at the screen drained his color. He said nothing, gripping the phone and walking out.  At the door, a lethal glare warned: you’ve crossed the line. But I felt no fear. I’d waited too long for today.

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