Category: English

  • The Amnesia Clause

    The second year after my divorce from Liam Garrett, he called me out of the blue. “Where did I put my burgundy striped tie? “And didn’t you say you wanted to turn that spare room into a nursery? Why haven’t you had it cleared out yet? “Also,” his voice was laced with annoyance, “why weren’t you home this morning?” At the same exact moment, I got a text from Liam’s sister, Chloe: 【Hey, Sienna. My brother was in an accident. His brain’s a little scrambled. To be precise— 【His memory is stuck two years in the past.】 1 Liam had amnesia. The news surprised me for a second, but then I just… didn’t really care. “Mr. Garrett,” I interrupted him, my tone polite but firm. “We’re divorced. If you’ve lost something, you should ask your housekeeper, not call me first thing in the morning and ruin my entire day.” Silence on the other end. Then, a cold, derisive laugh. “Divorce? Is that the new threat you’ve come up with? Come on, Sienna, I know you. I know I’ve been busy and I’ve neglected you, but if you keep this up, no one’s going to be in the mood to coddle you.” His impatient tone carried a clear warning. Chloe’s text popped up again: 【I’ve tried explaining it to him a dozen times, but he refuses to believe you’d actually go through with a divorce.】 The helplessness in her message was palpable. I got it. I could just picture Liam, smug and certain, dismissing her. It was the same attitude he’d had when I first brought up divorce. Everyone had said the same thing. No way! Sienna would never leave Liam. This is just another one of her ploys to get his attention. It was that certainty that allowed him to constantly put me last, to ignore me without a second thought. I sighed. “So, do you need me to print out a few hundred copies of our divorce decree and paste them everywhere you look?” He’d said something similar to me once. Right before we signed the papers at the courthouse, he’d stared at me, his face a mask of indifference, his voice harsh but his eyes suspiciously red. “Sienna, if you dare back out of this, I’ll plaster copies of this decree all over the city.” Now I had the chance to throw his words back at him. But he still didn’t believe me. He just steamrolled on. “Look, I know I messed up. I’m sorry. But I already explained it to you. All of us decided to go pick up Chelsea from the airport. Her family’s business went under; she’s not the heiress she used to be. We grew up together, and you know how this town is. If I didn’t show up and put on a strong front for her, how would people treat her?” As he spoke, his voice grew impatient again. He never had much of a temper, except when it came to his best friend, Chelsea. His words, however, gave me a clear picture of just how far back his memory had rewound. That day was the final straw that broke our marriage. The day Chelsea returned to the country was the anniversary of my grandmother’s death. I had made plans with Liam days in advance to visit her grave together. I’d even texted him a reminder the day before. My calls and messages went unanswered. I figured he was busy. So I went alone. I talked to my grandma for a while, explaining that Liam wasn’t a bad person, he was just busy. On the way home, I was in a minor car accident. While I was at the urgent care getting my cuts cleaned, I saw the news. A gossip site had a photo of Liam at the airport, greeting Chelsea. It was a trending topic. I stared at the picture on my phone for a long time before I remembered to call him. Chelsea answered. “Liam’s getting my bags, he can’t talk right now. Is something wrong, Sienna?” she asked, her voice dripping with fake concern. I could hear people in the background, teasing. “What could possibly be wrong? She probably just wants Liam to come home and cuddle. We’ve seen this movie before, yawn.” “On patrol again, huh? Liam, your wife keeps you on a tight leash. How are we supposed to hang out?” Chelsea shushed them with a playful scolding, then purred, “Liam, you can’t just forget about all your best friends now that you’re a family man.” “They’re not even in the same league as you,” Liam chuckled. He took the phone, his voice instantly turning cold. “What is it?” I didn’t want to fight in front of his friends. “I was in a car accident,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “I’m at the hospital.” “Are you seriously hurt?” “It’s just some scrapes, but I’m bleeding a—” “So it’s nothing major,” he cut me off, his tone laced with irritation. He clearly believed his friends. “You don’t have to make up excuses to check up on me. I’m not messing around. And a few scrapes will heal. Chelsea almost lost a leg once and she didn’t make half the fuss you are.” “Well, I’m not you, Liam!” Chelsea chirped in the background. “If I had a husband as handsome as you, I’d be way more dramatic than Sienna!” The group erupted in laughter. “Then maybe Liam should give you some extra attention too!” someone shouted. “Liam?” Chelsea asked, her voice full of hopeful suggestion. Through the phone, I heard his light, careless laugh. “Sure.” My hand froze. A nurse called my name. Liam heard it too, but all he said was a flat, “I’ll be home early when we’re done.” And then, an afterthought: “Can’t you just—” The line went dead. Of course. They had to throw a huge welcome home party for Chelsea. Their childhood best friend. I got my prescription, hailed a cab, and went home. Liam came back late, carrying a small, elegant box. A pearl necklace. “I was busy today,” he said, leaning in to kiss my cheek. He fastened the clasp around my neck himself. “Good taste,” he commented, looking pleased. I thought he was talking about his own taste in jewelry, and my anger began to soften. But then he continued, a hint of complaint in his voice, “See? Now are you happy? I told you Sienna wouldn’t be mad. You’re the one who was so worried, making me buy her a gift.” He wasn’t talking to me. I noticed the bluetooth earpiece in his ear. The necklace wasn’t his idea. A woman’s voice, saccharine and playful, came through the speaker as he took the earpiece out. “I was just worried she’d misunderstand!” Then, she spoke directly to me, her voice loud enough for me to hear. “Sienna, don’t worry, I kept an eye on him all day. I didn’t let a single girl get near him!” The smile on Liam’s face vanished. He shot me a look of cold annoyance. A bucket of ice water couldn’t have chilled me faster. I was too tired to fight. I took off the necklace, left it on the table, and went upstairs. I was limping, but he didn’t notice. He was still on the phone with Chelsea. “Is she still mad?” “What does she have to be mad about?” Liam scoffed. “I’ve told her a million times to take a driver when she goes out. She doesn’t listen. Maybe this will teach her a lesson.” The anger in his voice was palpable, as if my minor accident had been a personal inconvenience designed to ruin his fun. I had expected him to ask about my day, to explain why he’d broken his promise. But there was nothing. The next morning, he dressed with his back to me, as if nothing had happened. “Where are my cufflinks?” he asked. And just like that, like so many times before, I started the process of talking myself down, of forgiving him. I knew he was like this—he loved his freedom, hated being tied down. But I still held out hope that I could change him. 2 “I didn’t forget your grandmother’s anniversary on purpose!” Liam’s voice, full of complaint, pulled me back to the present. He paused, a flicker of guilt in his tone. “I’ll go apologize to her, okay?” He’d said those exact words two years ago. After a week of my silent treatment had made his life inconvenient, he’d finally remembered his broken promise and put on a show of remorse. He was younger than me, used to getting his way with a little boyish charm. It always worked on me. Now, the memory just seemed pathetic. I was packing my daughter’s tiny backpack. “I’m not mad,” I said calmly. I was divorced. I was wealthy, thanks to the settlement. Liam’s drama was no longer my problem. “I still have to apologize,” he insisted, misinterpreting my calm for forgiveness. “I promised you I’d go. It was my fault.” He sounded relieved. “Where are you now? I’ll come pick you up.” Just then, my daughter, Ava, ran over to put on her backpack. “Let me help, Mommy!” she grunted, then took my hand. “Let’s go to preschool!” Liam heard her bright, clear voice. The line went silent. “We… we have a daughter?” he asked, his voice hesitant. “She’s my daughter,” I corrected him. “She has nothing to do with you.” I gently prompted Ava to put on her shoes. “That baby died, over a year ago.” When I fell down the stairs, and his first instinct was to catch Chelsea, who had stumbled beside me. I miscarried. Liam had been devastated, or so it seemed. He held my hand, apologizing over and over. “We can have another one,” he’d promised, his voice raw. “We’re still young.” He clung to my hand, his eyes red-rimmed. “Sienna, I’ll be here for you. You’ll be here for me, right?” For a fleeting moment, I thought he might actually love me. But I was done. I used the miscarriage to demand a divorce and a massive settlement. Because Ava needed it. I’d found her at the hospital, abandoned by her parents. She had a brain tumor they couldn’t afford to treat. She was curled up in a corner, clutching a photograph, whispering, “It doesn’t hurt, Ava. It’s okay. Bye-bye, Daddy. Bye-bye, Mommy.” She looked at me, this tiny, sick child, and saw my tears. “Don’t cry, miss,” she’d said. “I’ll kiss it and make it better.” In one day, I lost my child, and Ava lost her parents. I adopted her. Out of guilt, Liam had helped with the paperwork. But the Liam on the phone didn’t remember any of that. “You don’t need to pick me up,” I said brightly. “But you can send my daughter a gift. Just Venmo Chloe.” I hung up, blocked his number, and took my daughter to school. 3 Chloe actually sent me a huge sum of money. I accepted it without hesitation. She explained that Liam had gotten hit in the head while “protecting” Chelsea. “They both deserved it,” Chloe said with a cold laugh. “Chelsea came back and started hanging around her old crew again, all of whom have girlfriends now. She’s all over them, pulling the ‘we’re just best friends’ card. One of the girlfriends got fed up, her brother came to defend her honor, and my idiot brother jumped in front of Chelsea to play the hero. He’s lucky he only got a concussion.” “If he got amnesia because of Chelsea,” I asked, “why is he calling me?” “Because the moment he woke up, he started demanding to see you,” she said. “He won’t believe you’re divorced. I can’t find the damn decree anywhere. He stole my phone to get your number and started calling you with all these stupid excuses.” She complained that Chelsea had been visiting every day, but for some reason, Liam refused to see her. “Don’t worry,” Chloe promised, “Mom has him on lockdown. He won’t be able to bother you.” Her promise lasted less than a week. I was picking Ava up from preschool. As I got out of the car, I heard someone call my name. “Miss Evans?” “Dr. Hayes?” I turned, surprised to see Ava’s neurosurgeon. “What are you—” “My nephew just transferred to this school,” he said, a wry smile on his handsome face. “My sister roped me into pickup duty.” Dr. Julian Hayes and I weren’t strangers, but it was still a bit awkward. He smoothly transitioned the conversation to Ava’s health. As we walked toward the school, he told me he’d been in contact with a specialist in Switzerland, and the prognosis for Ava’s surgery was excellent. I couldn’t help but smile. “I’m so grateful to you— ah!” A strong hand grabbed my arm, yanking me away from Julian. A familiar, dark voice growled in my ear. “Sienna, is this the son of a bitch you’re cheating on me with?” 4 I hadn’t expected to see Liam again, especially not like this. He looked a mess—his clothes were rumpled, his arm was scraped, and there was a wildness in his eyes. “Did you finally get jumped in an alley?” I asked, my voice devoid of sympathy. “God does answer prayers.” His anger faltered. “What? No one can touch me.” He tightened his grip on my arm, as if afraid I’d disappear. “Is he the father? Are you here to pick up your kid together?” Julian placed a calm hand on Liam’s arm. “Let her go,” he said politely, but his grip was firm, pressing on a raw scrape and making Liam wince. But Liam didn’t let go. His face paled, but he looked at me, his expression suddenly shifting to a wounded pout. “Honey, you’re hurting me.” 5 Playing the victim, acting cute—it was Liam’s specialty. He only ever called me “honey” in bed, or when he knew he’d really screwed up. He knew it was my weakness. But that was the old me. “Then let go,” I said, my voice flat. The pout vanished, replaced by a scowl. He took a deep breath, forcing a smile. “Look, that kid is what, three? We’ve only been married for a little over a year. So this guy must be from before me. Everyone makes mistakes when they’re young. I’ve done plenty of stupid things to make you mad. I know you still love me. I don’t mind. Are you staying away because of the kid? It’s fine. I’ll take you both home.” “Mr. Garrett,” Julian interrupted, deftly breaking his grip. “The children are about to come out. You’re going to frighten them.” “Who the hell are you to tell me what to do?” Liam snarled, swinging a punch at Julian. “This is my wife!” The punch landed. Before Liam could swing again, I slapped him. Hard. The sound echoed in the quiet afternoon air. He stared at me, stunned. “Are you calm now?” I asked, stepping in front of Julian. “If you’re going to have a meltdown, do it at home.” Liam’s tongue darted out to touch his bruised cheek. He let out a strange, choked laugh, his eyes fixed on me with a terrifying intensity. “You hit me,” he said in disbelief. “For another man.” “Liam!” Chloe was rushing toward us with several large men in suits. “They get here fast,” he muttered. He stood his ground, his head bowed. “Are you okay?” I asked Julian, mortified. “The kids are coming,” he said, his voice light despite the bruise forming on his cheek. “If Ava sees this, she’ll cry, and then we’ll have to spend all night cheering her up.” I was so mortified. But Liam just glared at Julian with pure hatred. As the bodyguards surrounded him, Chloe promised to get him home immediately. “Chloe, take your sister-in-law with you!” Liam yelled. Chloe rolled her eyes. “Ex-sister-in-law. I can’t tell her what to do.” “Wait,” I said, stopping them. I went to my car and returned with a stack of papers. I handed them to a bodyguard, who held them up for Liam to see. His rage evaporated, replaced by a stunned silence. They were copies of our divorce decree. “Amnesia doesn’t erase the past,” I said calmly. “You once said you’d plaster these everywhere if I backed out. Looks like the tables have turned.” “I don’t believe you,” he whispered, his eyes darting away from the papers as if they were on fire. But it was a weak protest. “You don’t care about me anymore?” he asked, his voice trembling. He sounded small and wounded. “He just got a bruise, and you rushed to his side. But I jumped out of a second-story window for you.” I looked at Chloe for confirmation. She nodded grimly. “I got sick, and you didn’t visit me,” he continued, his voice cracking. “I wanted to see you, but they wouldn’t let me out. So I had to jump. I think my leg is broken… Sienna, why don’t you care anymore? You used to love me.” His bewildered pain was a bucket of ice water. He took my affection for granted. He was so sure I’d never leave that he could treat me however he wanted. He used to introduce me as “Sienna, my wife,” with the same tone he used to describe a piece of property. I did love him. Deeply. But love has its limits. He was young, arrogant, and used to getting his way. But that wasn’t an excuse to hurt the person who loved him. If he could do that, it meant he didn’t love me back. And he never would. “We’ve been divorced for over a year,” I said, my voice gentle but firm. “If you hadn’t shown up today, I probably would have forgotten you existed. Amnesia is not an excuse. If you can’t leave me alone, I’ll be forced to take measures.” Just like I had when I’d fabricated evidence of him cheating with Chelsea to force his parents’ hand in our divorce. “Fine,” he said, straightening up, the arrogant mask sliding back into place. He sneered, his voice dripping with venom. “Sienna, it’s not like you’re the only woman in the world.”

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  • Returning My Plaything Fiancée​

    1 The night before our wedding, Isabella, in a fit of rage, hurled my ring into the lake. I spent the entire night dredging the icy water for it, my fingers raw and numb by the time I finally found it. But as I was about to go tell her, I overheard her talking with a friend. “Isabella, honestly, how many times are you going to mess with Ethan?” “Jason’s been gone for three years. Can’t you let him go?” Isabella’s voice was cold as steel. “Jason would still be alive if he hadn’t been begging me for a ride that day. That car crash… it was his fault. He killed Jason. Everything that’s happening to him? He deserves it.” The ring in my hand felt like a shard of ice. My knuckles were white, my blood frozen solid in my veins. She never loved me. All this time, my devotion was just a pawn in her twisted game of revenge. Silently, I tossed the ring into the nearest trash can and dialed my parents. “Mom, Dad… I’ve thought it over. I’ll agree to the family arrangement. Let’s have the wedding in three days.” … My parents’ joyous voices crackled through the phone. “Oh, Ethan, we’re so glad you’ve come to your senses! Isabella is a fine woman, but ten years your senior… people talk. And you remember Sophia Parker, don’t you? She’s your age, and she’s been waiting for you all this time!” “I know,” I said, my voice flat. “Just make the arrangements. I’ll be there in three days.” After hanging up, I leaned against the wall, gasping for air, fighting to regain my composure before walking back into the house. The moment I stepped inside, a splash of red wine hit me square in the face, followed by a sharp scream. I looked up, my eyes meeting Isabella’s as she sat on the sofa. “Ethan, I’m so sorry,” she said, though the smirk playing on her lips told a different story. “Chloe thought you were some kind of creep. It was an accident. You’re not mad, are you?” Her apology was a lie, her delight at my humiliation all too real. To everyone’s shock, I snatched the glass from Chloe’s hand and flung the dregs right back at her. The dark liquid splattered across her face and onto Isabella’s prized white dress. Isabella’s gaze darkened. Her voice was laced with ice. “I already apologized for her, Ethan. Don’t mistake my affection for a blank check to do as you please.” Affection? Her so-called affection was a series of cruel games designed to watch me suffer. Because of her “affection,” she’d abandoned me in the mountains during a trip, leaving me to struggle for three days before I was found, my right leg permanently damaged. Because of her “affection,” when I stood in a downpour all night to bring her medicine, ending up with a severe lung infection, she was nowhere to be found. Even the elaborate proposal I’d planned was ruined when she casually texted that she was “stuck in traffic,” leaving me to wait alone until dawn. Seeing the defiant set of my jaw, Isabella’s brow furrowed. “Fine,” she snapped. “I’ll let it go this time. Where’s the ring, Ethan? You spent all night in that lake. Don’t tell me you couldn’t find it.” “I didn’t,” I lied. It was sitting at the bottom of a garbage can. Before she could press me further, a man who looked like a bodyguard leaned in and whispered something to her. Her mood instantly brightened, and she waved me away dismissively. I turned and limped out of the room, ignoring the stares. Behind me, I heard someone stifle a laugh. Fighting back tears, I quickened my pace. Just a few yards away, I saw Isabella, her arm linked intimately with another man’s. He looked so much like Jason it stole the breath from my lungs—a younger, sharper version, but the resemblance was uncanny. My heart skipped a beat. By the time I realized it, tears were streaming down my face. She loved Jason that much. So much that she’d find a replacement to keep by her side. So much that she’d spend years destroying me for his sake. On the way home, my phone buzzed. It was the hospital. “Mr. Hayes? Ms. Lamont has been injured. You need to come to the hospital right away!” When I arrived, Isabella was lying in bed, her arm in a cast. She gestured to the young man beside her. “Ethan, I was almost attacked on my way back. Aiden here saved me. I’ve decided to hire him as my assistant.” The way they looked at each other, the air crackled with unspoken tension. The old me would have been consumed by jealousy. But now, knowing the truth, I felt nothing. I just nodded. Isabella seemed taken aback by my lack of reaction. It was Aiden who spoke first, offering a polite greeting. I made an excuse and stepped out of the room. The moment the door clicked shut, I heard Chloe’s triumphant laugh. “Isabella, wasn’t that a brilliant idea? Making Aiden your assistant? Now Ethan has no reason to object!” “Just make sure you play up the injury,” Chloe continued. “And Aiden, you take good care of her.” The laughter continued inside, but I couldn’t bear to listen. My chest felt tight as I walked to the restroom. As I was splashing water on my face, a figure blocked my path. I looked up into Aiden’s taunting eyes. “So, you’re the lapdog who’s been clinging to Isabella for three years,” he sneered. “Haven’t you had enough yet?” 2 I didn’t say a word. My indifference only seemed to provoke him more. “You think she cares about your stoic act? I saw you listening at the door. Pathetic.” I’d had enough. I shoved him, not hard, but he stumbled back dramatically, crashing to the floor and crying out in pain, clutching his shoulder. Just then, Isabella appeared in the doorway. “Ethan, why did you push him?” she demanded, her voice sharp. “If you didn’t want him around, you could have just said so! Why do you have to be so two-faced?” I was stunned, but before I could defend myself, Aiden spoke, his voice choked with fake tears. “It’s okay, Ms. Lamont. I just happened to save you, it’s normal for Ethan to be upset. It’s all my fault…” He squeezed out a few tears, his face, so like Jason’s, twisted in a mask of perfect anguish. Isabella’s breath hitched. “Apologize, Ethan,” she commanded. “He saved my life. Are you trying to embarrass me?” Her words were daggers, twisting in my heart. I met her cold, unforgiving gaze, then dropped my head and mumbled an apology. Aiden’s face lit up with a smug, triumphant smile. I took a shaky breath, telling myself to just hold on. Three more days. It was nearly midnight when I got back to the villa. Exhausted, I collapsed onto the bed, my eyes stinging as I took in the room filled with matching couple’s items. The toothbrushes, the mugs, the watches, the coats—every single one chosen by me. My gaze fell on a framed photo of us on the nightstand, and I was thrown back to the day we met. After graduating from college, I’d moved to Crestview to start my own business. I was struggling, on the verge of bankruptcy, when Isabella swept in. She saved my company, guided me through treacherous business dinners and industry events. I fell for her, hard. After she and Jason broke up, I confessed my feelings, and we grew closer. I thought I’d finally found love. I let myself sink into the beautiful dream she wove around me, never realizing it was all a lie. It was never about love. It was about revenge, about watching me, the fool, dance on her strings. The next morning, I woke to the sound of voices downstairs. As I opened my bedroom door, Isabella stopped mid-sentence. “Ethan,” she said, a hint of guilt in her eyes. “Aiden got a few scrapes, and his place is so far out of the way. I told him he could stay here for a while.” Stay for a while? More like forever. Seeing the way she avoided my gaze, I hid the chill in my heart and nodded, my eyes landing on the watch on Aiden’s left wrist. I had an identical one in my nightstand drawer, a gift so precious I’d never even dared to wear it. A bitter, self-mocking laugh rose in my throat. I stepped aside to let him pass, and Isabella’s expression grew complicated. “Ethan, I brought back some congee and dumplings. Go eat something. I’m just going to show Aiden to his room.” As their figures disappeared down the hall, I let out a hollow chuckle and called a junk removal service to come haul away all the “couple’s items.” As the last box was being loaded onto the truck, Isabella rushed out, blocking the workers. “Ethan, what are you doing?” she demanded, her voice rising in anger. “These are our things! Why are you throwing them away?” “I just don’t like them anymore,” I said calmly. “We can buy new ones.” She clearly didn’t believe me and was about to press further when Aiden’s frantic voice called from the balcony. “Ms. Lamont! I’m locked in! Can you come open the door? I’m kind of scared!” Isabella hesitated, shot me a conflicted look, then hurried back inside. I pursed my lips and told the workers to continue. As the truck pulled away, a weight lifted from my shoulders. Soon, this would all be over. 3 I spent the entire afternoon holed up in my room, but the sound of laughter from the living room was impossible to ignore. I glanced down to see Isabella’s smiling profile as Aiden fed her grapes. “Ms. Lamont, your arm is injured. Let me take care of you. It’s my duty to ease your burdens.” “Oh, I have more than just this burden for you to ease,” she purred. “Tonight, you can help me with my bath. Now that would be a real help.” I looked away, swallowing the lump in my throat. Grabbing a few files, I decided to head to the office. As I reached the stairs, Isabella called out to me. “Ethan, Aiden is new to his role as my assistant. As the VP, you need to get him up to speed.” She paused, then added casually, “And that new project you’re managing? Give it to Aiden. It’ll give you a chance to rest.” Her nonchalant tone sent a jolt of ice through me. I remembered the endless nights spent entertaining clients, the nauseating amounts of alcohol I’d consumed just to land that deal. And just like that, she was handing my hard-won success to someone else? My left hand, clenched into a fist, slowly relaxed. I took a deep breath. “Okay.” She seemed surprised by my easy compliance. “It’s just to give Aiden some experience,” she said, her voice softening slightly. “I’ve already booked a table at that Cantonese place you love for tonight.” Without waiting for my reply, she led Aiden away. As he left, he shot me a triumphant smirk over his shoulder. When I got to the restaurant, I realized the lie. The table was laden with food, but not a single dish was one of my favorites. Isabella had even ordered a seafood soup, something she knew I was severely allergic to. Aiden, of course, was eating with gusto. I didn’t touch my chopsticks. When Isabella stepped out to take a call, Aiden’s true colors showed. He deliberately picked up the seafood soup and moved toward me. With a clatter, the bowl fell. Aiden cried out, his eyes welling with tears. At that exact moment, Isabella walked back in. Without a second’s thought, she blamed me. “Why are you being so petty, Ethan?” My lips tightened. “I didn’t do it,” I said, my voice quiet. “He brought the soup over himself. Besides, I’m allergic to seafood. Don’t you remember?” She flinched, clearly having forgotten. But she was too proud to admit it. “Do whatever you want,” she muttered, and stormed out. That night, a torrential rain began to fall. Unsurprisingly, she left me there. By the time I made it back to the villa, drenched and freezing, it was late. Through a half-open door, I heard the unmistakable, intimate sounds of a man and a woman. I froze. The door creaked open, and Aiden appeared, a sly grin on his face. “Well, well. The lapdog is also an eavesdropper. What’s wrong? Jealous that Isabella hasn’t let you touch her in three years?” As he gloated, his bathrobe shifted, revealing a constellation of angry red hickeys across his skin. My body trembled with rage. I turned to leave, but he shoved me. I stumbled, crashing hard against the floor as he shut the door. “Since you love listening so much,” his voice called through the wood, “why don’t you stay all night and hear exactly how I ease Ms. Lamont’s burdens!” I dragged myself up, using the wall for support. The damp, cold air made my bad leg ache with a throbbing pain that made every step agony. It took me twenty minutes to get back to my room. I stared blankly at the ceiling, only then realizing my face was wet with tears. The next morning, I came downstairs with swollen eyes to find the living room empty. A moment later, a video popped up on my phone from an unknown number. It was Isabella, tied up, crying and begging me to save her. An address followed, with a threat: get here fast or she dies. After a moment of hesitation, I drove to the location on the outskirts of the city. The second I stepped into the abandoned factory, a rope tightened around my neck from behind. I was bound and thrown into a burlap sack. I heard the crude laughter of thugs as they used me like a punching bag, kicking me over and over until my body was a canvas of pain. When the smell of smoke filled the air and flames began to lick at the walls, I finally managed to break free. As I crawled out of the inferno, all I felt was a strange sense of release. My phone buzzed again. It was an audio file from Aiden. I could hear Isabella’s voice, crisp and clear. “Make sure the kidnapping looks real this morning. Follow the plan exactly as we discussed.” 4 A bitter laugh escaped my lips. How could I have been so naive? Even knowing her plan was to destroy me, some stupid part of me had still worried for her safety. When I got home, Aiden was dabbing rubbing alcohol on Isabella’s “injuries.” A few faint scratches on her lips. They looked less like the result of a kidnapping and more like a prop for the show she was putting on for me. Seeing my bruised and battered state, Isabella immediately ordered the butler to tend to my wounds. When I refused, she told the maid to make me some soup. “Ethan, those kidnappers were just too clever,” she said, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. “I never thought they’d use me to lure you there…” Were the kidnappers clever, Isabella, or were you? You know the answer to that. I had no interest in watching her act. I locked myself in my room and checked my flight information for the next morning. My gaze hardened. That afternoon, I went to the city records office and finalized the transfer of my residency. As I got into a taxi, I saw Isabella across the street, laughing in a flashy sports car. Aiden was in the passenger seat, holding a massive bouquet of roses. Heads turned everywhere they went. “Look at them, they’re so perfect together! I have to get a video of this for my feed.” “Seriously, they look so in love. It’s rare to see something so genuine.” Their words echoed in my head as I walked away, a familiar ache spreading through my chest. As I neared the villa, my phone rang. It was Chloe, her voice frantic. “Ethan, Isabella was in a car accident! She needs blood, and the hospital’s supply is low. You’re a match—you have to get here now!” It was just another one of their twisted games. I told her I was busy and hung up. But as I stepped out of the taxi, several of Isabella’s bodyguards surrounded me. “Mr. Hayes,” one said, his tone like ice. “Ms. Miller insisted we bring you. You’re the only one who can save Ms. Lamont.” They flanked me, forcing me into a car. At the hospital, I was pushed straight into a room to have my blood drawn without even seeing Isabella. Feeling dizzy, I went to the restroom to splash some water on my face. As I walked down the hall, I heard voices from a stairwell. It was Chloe and Isabella. “Isabella, he gave 1000ccs. I had them let him go. But what if he figures it out…?” “What’s there to figure out?” Isabella’s voice was sharp. “He loves me so much, he’d never leave. The kidnapping, the blood donation… I never wanted to kill him. This is what he owes Jason. He has to stay by my side for the rest of his life to pay that debt. Oh, and tell the maid to cook him something to replenish his strength. He didn’t look well in that video.” I hid in the darkness of a utility closet, my hand covering the fresh needle mark on my arm. The sting was a sharp reminder of her cruelty. She was an expert at this. Push me to the brink, then offer a sliver of kindness to pull me back into her web. She talked about atonement, about debts. But Jason’s death was from a drunk driving accident. It had nothing to do with me. She was the one who had offered to pick me up for that corporate summit. How did everything become my fault? As I walked out of the hospital, my phone buzzed with two messages from Isabella, both feigning concern. The old me would have replied in a heartbeat. Now, I didn’t have the strength. When I got back to the villa, Aiden was standing outside my room. He was wearing the custom-tailored suit Isabella had given me, proudly adjusting the gemstone brooch that had also been her gift to me. “How does it feel, Ethan?” he smirked. “1000ccs? That was my idea, by the way. And as a reward, Ms. Lamont said all of this is mine now. It would be rude to refuse, wouldn’t it?” He ordered the maids to clear out my room, leaving only a few items he deemed unworthy. Then he swaggered away. I sat on the empty bed until dawn, my tears finally dry. I grabbed my documents, walked out of the villa, and tossed my SIM card into the garden. Isabella, we’re done. I won’t let you hurt me ever again. Meanwhile, Isabella woke up in her office. She checked her phone, but there was still no reply from Ethan. His phone went straight to voicemail. She sent someone to the villa, only to discover the security cameras had been damaged in a storm days ago. A strange anxiety clawed at her. She swept everything off her desk in a fit of frustration and ordered her security team to find him. The unease in her gut was growing stronger by the minute. Just before noon, the head of her security team knocked timidly on her office door, holding a phone with a trembling hand. “Ms. Lamont,” he stammered. “We haven’t found Mr. Hayes yet… but we found this. It’s a wedding livestream. The groom… it’s him.”

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  • The Thorn & The Rose

    1 It’s been three years since my parents died. My aunt Lynn brought me to New York City to find my fiancé. His name is Jason Kang, the younger son of the Kang family, owners of the tech giant, Sterling Innovations. He’s one of the city’s most eligible bachelors. To win his affection, I studied ballet, ikebana, and oil painting. I was told I was a clumsy imitation, a poor copy of a more refined woman. One afternoon, Aunt Lynn and I were out shopping for the holidays when I ran into Jessica Thorne. We exchanged heated words, which quickly escalated into a full-blown brawl. Just as we were pulling each other’s hair, Jason appeared. Without a word, he slapped me across the face. When my aunt saw the red mark on my cheek, she was furious. She went straight to the old patriarch of the Kang family, Jason’s grandfather. The old man sighed. “I have another grandson. He is a good man, handsome and kind, but he is burdened by a chronic illness. However, he is the one who will inherit Sterling Innovations.” “I wonder, Miss Hayes, if you would consider him instead?” I rushed home, my face burning. Aunt Lynn was in the kitchen, brewing a pear and ginger tea for her cough. Mr. Kang had sent over a crate of expensive imported fruits after hearing she was unwell. “Did you get everything you needed, dear?” she asked. I held back my tears and tried to slip past her into my room. “You should see that Jessica Thorne,” Aunt Lynn said, not noticing my distress. “She’s always knitting sweaters and making little good luck charms for her fiancé. So devoted.” I didn’t want to hear it, but she continued. “You need to learn from her. Learn how to capture a man’s heart.” My own heart felt like a lead weight in my chest, but I just nodded. “I will, Aunt Lynn.” “You’re too reserved, Chloe. A woman needs to have a little charm, a little spark, to keep a man interested. I don’t want you to end up alone…” My heart felt like it was pickling in vinegar. The tears were about to overflow. I fled to my room and locked the door before I finally let myself cry. Out on the street, Jessica and I had only exchanged a few words before she lunged at me. As we scuffled on the cold pavement, she’d sneered, “You’re just some charity case from the countryside. You think because your parents did the Kangs a favor, you can do whatever you want?” “You’ve spent all these years trying to become a lady, but has Jason ever looked at you twice? You’re just a cheap copy. You will never marry into the Kang family.” She had a fistful of my hair, and I had a grip on her coat. That’s when Jason had shown up, on his way back from a business meeting. “Who do you think you are, bullying people like this?” he’d snarled, his words a slap before his hand even connected with my face. Jessica had looked at me with pure triumph. The whispers of the crowd, the sting on my cheek—it was all too much. That slap had shattered what little was left of my pride. My feelings for him, carefully nurtured for years, began to wither. “You’re just an orphan nobody wants,” he’d continued, his voice dripping with contempt. “You’ve been living off my family’s charity, acting like you own the place. And now you’re picking fights in public? You’re pathetic.” Before he could finish, I swung my own hand and sent his head snapping to the side. Acting like I own the place? So that’s what he thought of me. All those years of trying to be worthy of him, wasted. A bitter cold settled in my bones. His friends stared, stunned into silence. I walked away, not looking back, and didn’t let the tears fall until I was blocks away. For the past year, Jason had made his disdain for me clear. He was always comparing me to his assistant, a woman named Sarah Jenkins. He said Sarah was beautiful, and though she came from a poor background, she was accomplished and capable. He called her a rose blooming amongst thorns, captivating and fragrant. I was so desperate that I went to Sarah and asked her what Jason liked. She smiled, her eyes appraising me. “Jason has very particular tastes. He likes a woman who is not just beautiful, but also intelligent.” “Intelligent?” I repeated, my voice small. “The kind of woman who is good at everything.” I stared at the floor. All the things I had learned felt like shallow party tricks. In his eyes, I was just a pretender, a clown showing off my half-baked talents. Through the glass wall of his office, I saw Jason laughing, leaning against a table while Sarah arranged a bouquet of flowers. She was exquisite, her movements graceful. The arrangement was stunning. I felt a familiar pang of inadequacy. Together, they looked like a perfect couple. Jason glanced up and caught my eye, a mocking smile on his lips. I looked away, my cheeks burning. Determined to win his approval, I threw myself into my lessons with a new fervor. I took up ballroom dancing. My body was stiff, but I practiced until my feet bled, believing that persistence would pay off. At a family gala, I waited until the very end to perform. When I finally took the stage, I moved with a grace I didn’t know I possessed. I felt like a bird soaring over the ocean. Jason was the first to applaud. After that, things changed. He started responding to my texts immediately. He listened when I spoke. The effort was paying off, but it came at a price. My feet were in constant pain, and the inside of my thighs were raw from hours of practice. Aunt Lynn tended to my injuries, her eyes shining with pride. “You’re finally getting his attention, Chloe. Mr. Kang may be fond of you, but in a family like that, a woman needs her husband’s love to survive.” I knew she was right. I didn’t have the heart to tell her it felt like a hollow victory. One day, I was leaving the dance studio and saw Jason outside his office building, talking to Sarah. I heard him say, “She’s just a clueless little fool, trying to be something she’s not. She’s not worth a single strand of your hair.” 2 I feigned illness and didn’t leave my room for days. Mr. Kang, hearing I was unwell, sent over a host of expensive supplements and remedies. Aunt Lynn hovered over me, convinced I was seriously ill. But no medicine could cure a broken heart. I felt like a beggar who’d had her last ragged coat stripped from her, leaving her naked and exposed. My mother used to say that when you’re sad, you should do something meaningful to distract yourself. I picked up the embroidery I had been working on and lost myself in the rhythm of the needle. After a few days, the handprint on my cheek finally faded. I knew I had to face the world again. The next morning, I woke to a world covered in snow. Through the window, I saw Sarah Jenkins standing outside, a vision in a green wool coat. She smiled when she saw me, her eyes curving into bright crescents. I let her in. After a few pleasantries, she looked down, a guilty expression on her face. “Chloe, I heard about what happened the other day. Please don’t take it to heart.” I managed a weak smile. “It has nothing to do with you, Sarah. You don’t need to apologize for him.” I added, “But thank you for your concern.” “I’ve already told Jason off,” she said, her voice full of indignation. “How could he do that to you, his own fiancée? He’s heartless.” I didn’t want to talk about it. But she continued, oblivious. “He’s been under a lot of stress lately with a big deal at work. You have to try to be more understanding.” “It’s strange, though,” she mused, “he’s always so polite and charming to everyone else. It’s only with you that he…” She trailed off, finally noticing the pained look on my face. “Oh, listen to me, making you sad all over again.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small jar of face cream. Her smile was back, dimples appearing in her cheeks. “This is from Jason.” I took it, a flicker of hope in my heart. “Well, Jason gave it to me, and I’m giving a little to you, so it’s like it’s from him,” she clarified. Something felt wrong. Why was she so insistent on emphasizing her closeness with him? My hand, holding the cream, froze. “What’s wrong? Don’t worry, it’s amazing. It gets rid of any scar. Jason is always telling me that a woman’s skin should be flawless.” I shook my head and gently pushed the cream back into her hand. “I’m fine. The mark will be gone in a few days. You should keep it.” She looked disappointed but didn’t press the issue. After chatting for a while longer, she finally left. I watched her go, her words a heavy weight on my chest. As I was about to close the door, Aunt Lynn appeared beside me. She gently touched my face. “What’s wrong, my dear?” 3 After leaving my house, Sarah didn’t go straight back to the office. She wandered for a bit, then finally headed to Sterling Innovations. Jason was in a heated negotiation, fighting for the best terms for his company. When he saw Sarah return, his eyes lit up with anticipation. The moment the meeting ended, he rushed over to her. “What did she say?” Sarah hesitated, a flicker of resentment in her eyes. “She said… she doesn’t need your fake concern, or your charity.” Jason looked like he’d been struck by lightning. He slumped against the wall, his shoulders sagging. “Did she really say that?” Sarah pressed the face cream into his hand. “Why are you doing this to yourself? She doesn’t care about you. You deserve better.” He wasn’t listening. “Was she hurt badly?” Sarah’s heart ached with jealousy. “No. She’ll be fine in a few days.” “Good,” he whispered, relieved. “That’s good.” “I told her you didn’t mean it,” Sarah said, her voice rising in frustration. “I told her this cream was for her, but she refused to take it. She’s not a good person, Jason. She’s just petty and vindictive…” Her voice faded into the background. Jason clenched his fist, his mind replaying the scene on the street. How could he have hit her? How could he have said those things? It had all started at a dinner party a few weeks ago. Someone had brought up my family, the once-great Hayes family, now fallen on hard times. They started talking about me, about my looks. Jason had felt a surge of pride but said nothing. The conversation had quickly turned inappropriate. “Beauty is just skin deep,” Sarah had interjected. “A woman who only cares about landing a rich husband, who uses a man’s affection to get what she wants, can never be truly respectable.” The men at the table had laughed and agreed, praising Sarah for her beauty and her brains. “But the Hayes girl is more than just a pretty face,” another man had said. “She’s an accomplished artist. And her embroidery is exquisite. My sister commissioned a piece from her, and it was a masterpiece.” Jason’s heart had swelled with pride again. But then, someone else had chimed in. “But her character is questionable. I’ve heard she’s arrogant and looks down on everyone.” Jason’s pride had turned to doubt. He had started to wonder. Is Chloe really like that? When he saw me fighting with Jessica, he had assumed the worst. He thought a slap would be a wake-up call, that I would understand he was just trying to help me be a better person. Now, knowing the truth—that Jessica had provoked me—he was drowning in regret. The snow was falling heavily outside. I was lying in bed when I saw a figure approaching through the blizzard. It was Jason, holding an umbrella and carrying a pile of gifts. I turned away, not wanting to see him. The doorbell rang. I ignored it. A few minutes later, it rang again. I finally got up and opened the door. He was gone, but the gifts were piled on the doorstep. On top was a small card with three words written on it: “I was wrong.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. If apologies could fix everything, there wouldn’t be so many broken hearts in the world. Jason walked aimlessly through the snow-covered streets. He ran into Sarah, who immediately took his arm. “Are you still thinking about her? Jason, she’s not worth it. You’ve been so good to her, and she treats you like dirt.” Her words only made him feel worse. But then she said, “Don’t worry. I’ll help you. I’ll help you win her back.” His eyes lit up. “Sarah, you’re the best.” He felt a glimmer of hope. But the image that haunted him was my face after he’d slapped me, my eyes filled with tears and disbelief. He had to make it right. 4 I finally told Aunt Lynn everything. She listened in silence, her expression grave. When I finished, she reached out and stroked my cheek. “My poor Chloe. You’ve suffered so much.” Her eyes filled with tears. For the first time in days, I felt a sense of relief. “Come on,” she said, her voice firm. “We’re telling Mr. Kang.” “No, Aunt Lynn. This is between me and Jason. We shouldn’t bother his grandfather.” “Why not? It’s his grandson. He needs to take responsibility. Are you just going to let this go?” “I have to marry him,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “If I make a big deal out of this, it will only make things worse. Besides,” I added, forcing a smile, “I slapped him back. We’re even.” She looked at me, her eyes full of worry. “If he treats you this badly now, how will he treat you after you’re married?” Her words were a dagger to my heart. We were at a stalemate when there was a knock at the door. It was one of Mr. Kang’s assistants. “Miss Hayes, Mr. Jason is leaving on a business trip. Mr. Kang would like you to see him off.” Aunt Lynn’s face was a mask of disapproval. We went to the Kang mansion. The old man was giving Jason some last-minute instructions. When he saw me, his face broke into a warm smile. “You two young people have a chat.” Jason looked at me nervously. “Chloe, I’ll be gone for a few months. But you’ll wait for me, right?” He was afraid I’d find someone else. I met his gaze, my own eyes cold. “Why would I wait for you?” He looked down, ashamed. “I know I messed up. It was just… the rumors. I got confused. It was my fault.” Just then, my aunt’s voice, clear and strong, came from the hallway. “We would like to call off the engagement. My niece is too good for your family.” I was stunned. Aunt Lynn, who had been so invested in this marriage, was the one ending it. She had always been my staunchest supporter, my mother’s sister who had raised me as her own. She wanted me to have a good life, a happy marriage. But she had seen that this was not it. When we stepped out of the room, Mr. Kang was furious. He kicked Jason hard in the shin. “You worthless fool!” He then turned to me, his eyes full of sympathy. “My dear child, I am so sorry. This is all Jason’s fault.” Jason was kneeling on the floor. “Father, I was wrong.” Mr. Kang ignored him and turned to my aunt. “Lynn, must you do this? Can we not talk it over?” “My Chloe is not a piece of property,” my aunt said, her voice shaking with emotion. “She is a human being. And your grandson has treated her with nothing but disrespect. That is not how you treat someone you love.” 5 Her words were a revelation. Sarah’s comment about Jason treating me differently than anyone else suddenly made sense. He was always so charming to others, but so cruel to me. It was because he saw me as his possession. When I failed to meet his expectations, he punished me. In that moment, any lingering affection I had for him vanished. I looked at him as if he were a stranger. Mr. Kang was still trying to salvage the situation. “Chloe,” he said, his voice gentle. “Do you still have feelings for Jason?” “I did,” I answered honestly. “But his actions have worn away any affection I had for him. I feel nothing for him now. You can’t force love, Mr. Kang.” Jason looked devastated. He tugged on his grandfather’s sleeve, but the old man ignored him. “If you don’t love him, then I can’t force you.” He sighed, a tired, old man. “But I have another grandson. He is a good man, handsome and kind, but he is burdened by a chronic illness. However, he is the one who will inherit Sterling Innovations.” “I wonder, Chloe, if you would consider him instead?” The engagement to Jason was not officially broken. Mr. Kang’s plea, and my own wavering resolve, left things in limbo. Without the protection of the Kang family, my own family’s business, which was just starting to recover, would be vulnerable. And then there was the matter of a certain wealthy heir who had taken an unwelcome interest in me. He was married, but that didn’t stop him from harassing me. He would follow me, his smile predatory. “You think the Kangs can protect you forever?” One day, I finally snapped and told him to leave me alone. He grabbed me. Just as I was starting to despair, two of the Kang family’s bodyguards appeared and beat him senseless. “How did you know I was here?” I asked them, shaken. “Mr. Kang asked us to keep an eye on you,” one of them replied. I owed the old man. The Kang family had been nothing but kind to me. To refuse his offer now would seem ungrateful. But I knew there was still a chance to break free. “I don’t know,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “Would your other grandson even want to marry me?” Mr. Kang’s eyes twinkled. “You’ll have to ask him that yourself.”

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  • The Perfect Revenge

    My sister had a habit of taking everything that was mine. So when I brought my boyfriend home, a knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach. Sure enough, it wasn’t long before I caught them together at our engagement party, tangled in a passionate embrace. A double betrayal, from my lover and my own blood. Everyone waited for me to shatter. But standing outside that door, I couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. No one knew that this was all part of my meticulous plan. From this moment on, her fiancé, Kyle Hayward, was mine for the taking. 1 My parents struggled to conceive, so they adopted Cici from an orphanage. Six months after she came to live with us, my mother became pregnant with me. Everyone said Cici was our family’s lucky star, that her arrival brought the good fortune that led to my birth. And so, I was taught I had to thank my sister. Cici, who should have been the sole focus of their affection, suddenly had to share their love with me, and she couldn’t accept it. My parents, driven by a mixture of gratitude and guilt, taught me from a young age that I had to give in to my sister in everything. From childhood to now. From the smallest snacks to the warmth of our parents’ attention. Whatever she wanted, I had to surrender it without question. Today was Cici’s twenty-fifth birthday. My mother woke at dawn, heading to the market with our housekeeper to buy all of Cici’s favorite foods, determined to cook her a feast. When I got home, Mom was buzzing with excitement in the kitchen while Dad meticulously arranged a birthday surprise in the dining room. The scene made my chest ache. It was a familiar sight, one that played out every year, but never for me. It was because on my sixth birthday, Cici, in a fit of rage, had smashed my cake to the floor, screaming that because of me, Mom and Dad didn’t love her anymore. She threw a tantrum that shook the house, declaring that if I was here, she wouldn’t be. To appease her, from that day on, my birthday was never celebrated again. Because, as my mother told me, a peaceful home was everything. I had to be the sensible one. I had to let my sister have her way. Half an hour later, Cici swept in, laden with shopping bags. Mom immediately rushed to her, covering her eyes and leading her to the dining table. Dad smoothly pushed the cake in front of her. “Happy birthday, sweetheart! Make a wish and blow out the candles! Your father and I have a huge gift for you!” Cici dutifully blew out the candles, then wrapped her arms around Mom. “Mom, what did you and Dad get me? I’m dying to know!” “You’re just as impatient as you were when you were little,” Mom said, tapping her forehead affectionately. She then produced a stack of documents from behind her back. “This is a share transfer agreement. Your father and I have decided to give you ten percent of Sterling Corp.” “Mom!” Cici gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “You’re a grown woman now,” Dad added. “It’s time you came into the company and learned the ropes. Sterling Corp will be yours one day, after all.” My hand, holding a fork, began to tremble. Cici and I had walked two completely different paths. Her grades were always mediocre; her passions were fashion, parties, and travel. My parents paid a fortune to send her abroad to study art, where she barely scraped by with a degree. I, on the other hand, knew from a young age they didn’t value me. To secure my place in this family, I knew I had to gain control of the company. So I studied relentlessly, earning a place at a top-tier university for business management. I was then accepted into Yale for my master’s. I thought… I thought that after all my hard work, they would entrust the company to me. A clatter broke the silence as my fork slipped from my fingers and hit the floor. 2 Three pairs of eyes snapped towards me. I composed myself, stood up, and met my father’s gaze. “Mom, Dad… what about me?” They seemed stunned that their quiet, obedient daughter would choose this moment to speak up. An awkward silence hung in the air before my mother finally walked over to me. “Claire, you’re still young. Just focus on your studies. Your sister and father will handle the company. You just worry about school.” Her meaning was crystal clear. Years of tireless effort had just become a punchline. A bitter smile touched my lips. I pushed past her and went upstairs to my room. The unfairness of it all washed over me, and I buried my face in my pillow and sobbed. Twenty-two years, and I still felt like an outsider in my own home. Why did I always have to be the one to back down for Cici’s sake? Why did no one ever care about my feelings? Did the quiet child in the family just deserve to be treated unfairly? I cried myself to sleep. When I woke, it was the middle of the night. Thirsty, I took my glass to the kitchen for water. As I passed my parents’ room, I heard my mother’s voice. “The Hayward heir is back in the country. He’s supposed to be at the gala tomorrow. Mrs. Hayward told me to bring the girls.” My heart skipped a beat. The Hayward heir? Kyle Hayward? He was a senior when I was in high school, a legend everyone knew. Handsome, brilliant, with a legion of admirers, yet completely untouched by scandal. Last year, outside the university gates, my bag was open and a thief snatched my wallet. He happened to be walking by and, without a second thought, chased the thief down and got it back for me. That’s when I learned we were both at Yale. And that was the day a heart I’d long kept guarded began to beat again. The next morning, I woke unusually early and took great care with my appearance. I had decided that after a lifetime of giving in, this time, I was going to fight for what I wanted. When I came downstairs, Mom was already at the breakfast table. Surprise flickered in her eyes when she saw me. “Claire, come eat,” she said, gesturing to a chair. I nodded and sat down. We ate in a mutually agreed-upon silence, the previous day’s events left unspoken. Halfway through the meal, I gathered my courage. “Mom, are you going to the Hayward’s gala today?” She paused, looking at me with a hint of confusion. “Yes, I am.” I clenched my fists under the table. “Could I possibly…” “Mom, I’m ready. Let’s go.” Cici descended the stairs, dressed in an exquisite evening gown. I froze. My mother stood, grabbing her purse. “I’m taking Cici to the gala today. The driver is waiting, so we’ll be off.” Without another glance at me, she took Cici’s arm and walked out the door. I remained rooted to the spot, feeling as though a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head. My stomach churned. I looked down at my own carefully chosen dress. Claire Sterling, you’re a fool. My phone buzzed. A reminder for a dental appointment I’d scheduled. My wisdom tooth was acting up, and a friend had recommended her dentist. He was supposedly impossible to book, but somehow, I’d gotten an appointment on my first try. 3 By the time I returned from the dentist, my mother and Cici were already home. The moment I walked in, Mom grabbed my arm excitedly, pointing at a necklace around Cici’s neck. “Claire, look! Isn’t your sister’s necklace beautiful?” It was a stunning piece. Even I, with no knowledge of jewelry, could tell it was incredibly expensive. “It’s beautiful,” I said, nodding numbly. Cici shot me a smug look. “Of course it is! It’s a gift from Mrs. Hayward!” she gloated. “Mom took me to the gala, and the Haywards just loved me. You know their son, Kyle Hayward? I heard he goes to the same school as you. Do you know him? What’s he like?” At the mention of his name, a jolt of anxiety shot through me. “I don’t know him,” I replied quickly. She smirked. “I figured. I hear he’s very aloof. Not just anyone can get close to him.” She preened. “But Mrs. Hayward adored me, so he agreed to go on a date.” “Cici is so charming, I’m sure Kyle will fall for you,” Mom added enthusiastically. “You have to dress up for your date… I’ll take you shopping tomorrow…” She led Cici to the sofa, and the two of them began planning excitedly, completely forgetting I was there. I stood frozen, my feet feeling as if they were encased in lead. Back in my room, a message popped up on my phone. “Miss Sterling, remember to apply the ice pack as directed.” It was from Leo Vance, the dentist. After meeting him, I understood why he was so popular. Young, single, and devastatingly handsome—it was no wonder people were clamoring for an appointment. “Okay.” “The swelling should be down in three days. You can come in then to have the tooth removed.” “Okay.” “Rest well. See you in three days.” I thought he was supposed to be aloof, I mused. Why is he messaging me so much? I put my phone down and ignored it. Three days later, I went back to the clinic. My appointment was the last of the day, and by the time I was done, it was getting dark. Leo, now in his street clothes, handed me a fresh ice pack. “How are you getting home?” “I’ll get a rideshare,” I said, glancing outside. “My car’s restricted today.” He smiled. “Let me give you a ride.” I was about to refuse when his phone rang. He stepped outside to take the call, returning a minute later with his bag. “Ready?” It felt rude to refuse again, so I followed him to the parking garage. During the drive, he was incredibly thoughtful, giving me aftercare instructions and effortlessly making conversation. In that half-hour drive, he told me about his family and his life. After he pulled up to my house, he turned to me. “Claire,” he asked suddenly, “what do you think of me?” My mind went blank. I was trying to figure out a polite way to turn him down when two familiar figures appeared at the end of my driveway. It was Cici and Kyle. They were standing face-to-face. Cici was talking animatedly, but Kyle seemed unresponsive. Then, Cici stood on her toes and kissed him. It happened so fast. On pure instinct, I threw open the car door and shouted across the lawn, “Cici!” They both turned.

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  • The Thaw

    Summer break. We went whitewater rafting in Georgia. The raft flipped. Me and Jason—the class pretty boy—both went under. Chloe, my childhood friend, swam straight for him, letting the current take me. The safety patrol guy who fished me out, an older dude named Bud, clapped my shoulder. “Kid, I saw the whole thing. That kind of girl ain’t worth it. Don’t you worry, I’ll go snag you a pretty one.” With that, he snagged the campus ice queen, Maya, and plopped her right into my lap. I… what? I looked at her cold, perfect face and panicked, trying to shove her off. The next second, I heard a weird voice. 【Why is he pushing me away? Does he like them stacked? He probably can’t tell under this life jacket.】 Before I could react, Maya started unzipping her windbreaker. I instinctively grabbed her hand. “What are you doing?” She blinked, her expression blank. “Hot.” Hot my ass. You’re lucky if you’re not hypothermic. I almost said it out loud, but one look at her stunning face and I swallowed the words. I still couldn’t believe it. I’d just verified I was hearing her thoughts, but this was Maya. She was famously cold. She didn’t talk to anyone. I heard some guy chased her for months and she never said a single word to him. Another dude bought her breakfast every day for a week, and she just stared him down until he walked away, totally humiliated. Thinking of that, I looked at my hand, still clamped on her wrist. Oh god. Is she going to kick me back into the river? I yanked my hand back like I’d been burned. “Uh, you should keep that on,” I coughed. “It gets cold on the water.” Maya slowly zipped the jacket back up and gave a single, curt nod. “Hm.” 【Is he worried about me?】 【He’s so cute. He didn’t even notice his shoe fell off.】 A second later, a pale, slender hand was holding a white Croc out to me. “You dropped this.” I looked down. My right foot was bare. After a beat of silence, I gave her an awkward laugh, took the shoe, and mumbled my thanks. She just nodded. Another thought popped into my head. 【So happy! He smiled at me! And said thank you!】 Okay. It’s official. I can read her mind. Just then, Bud paddled over, grinning. “So, kid, what’d I tell you? Pretty good eye, right? I scoped out this whole batch of rafters. She’s the prettiest one on the river. You like her?” I instinctively glanced at her—pale skin, sharp features that looked almost exotic, and a figure that was… well, yeah. Who wouldn’t like that? I swallowed, but when I met her cold, indifferent gaze, I immediately looked away. “Aw, don’t be shy,” Bud laughed, slapping my back. “I’ll help you out.” He turned to Maya. “Hey, little lady, you got a boyfriend?” Maya blinked, glanced at me, and then slowly shook her head. Bud lit up. He pointed at me. “How ’bout this fella? I think you two would make a real cute couple.” I shot up, ready to tell this crazy matchmaker to back off. But a clear, cold voice cut me off. “Okay.” I… what? Did she eat paint chips as a kid? I stared at her, my eyes wide. She looked back at me, that same icy expression… but with a tiny flicker of confusion. 【Why isn’t he saying yes? Am I not pretty enough to be his girlfriend?】 I almost choked. Lady, do you hear yourself? You’re the campus queen of our university. If YOU’RE not pretty enough… Ugh, it’s me. I’m not worthy, okay? “I lost my baby! Can anyone help me find my baby?” We had drifted into a calm patch, and other rafts were catching up. A woman in one of them was yelling frantically. Someone on another raft called back, “Ma’am, it’s just a shoe! You can buy a new one!” The woman, who I now recognized as Maya’s mom, Sharon, waved her hands. “No, not my shoe, my baby! My daughter! The rapids separated us…” Everyone went quiet. “Have any of you,” she yelled, “seen a tall, gorgeous girl in a black windbreaker?” I looked at Maya, sitting right in front of me. Tall, gorgeous, black windbreaker. “…Uh,” I ventured, “is she… looking for you?” Chapter 2 Maya glanced at her mom’s raft, then turned back to me. “Yes.” Well, are you going to say something? Your mom is having a panic attack! When she just sat there, I waved. “Ma’am! Over here! She’s here!” Sharon’s raft paddled over, and she almost cried with relief. “Maya, baby, I was so worried! I’ve been looking everywhere!” Maya just frowned. “I can swim.” “I don’t care, I was terrified! Why didn’t you answer your phone?” “Waterproof bag leaked. It’s dead.” She blankly held up the waterlogged phone. After another minute of fussing, Sharon told Maya to come back to her raft. Bud, our captain, looked between me and Maya, shaking his head in disappointment. But then, Maya spoke, loud and clear. “No. I’m not coming back. Your raft flips too easily.” I… what? Our raft also flipped. Like, ten minutes ago. We all went in. Bud just fished us out. All three of us—me, Bud, and Sharon—were completely baffled. Then, I heard it. 【No way am I going back! I swam so hard to get here. Besides, Bud’s not done matchmaking. He hasn’t even answered if he wants to be my boyfriend yet!】 My jaw dropped. Holy crap. I thought Bud just randomly snagged her. She swam to us. And hearing that “boyfriend” part… my face started to feel hot. Sharon’s eyes darted from Maya to me, and then back. Suddenly, her face lit up with understanding. “Oh! Well! You kids have fun!” she chirped, and ordered her guide to paddle away, not looking back once. Just as her mom left, Chloe’s raft drifted over. She was still holding onto Jason, who looked soaked and miserable. When Chloe saw me, she immediately let go of Jason. “Leo! Why are you on their boat? Come back, I saved you a spot!” She even shuffled over to make room. Maya, who had been scooping water out of our raft with a ladle, froze. I shot Chloe a glare. “No thanks. Wouldn’t want to break up your romantic moment.” Chloe’s face turned red. “What is that supposed to mean? You’re just mad I saved him instead of you, aren’t you?” “Yep,” I said, without hesitation. She looked at me, completely disappointed. “I can’t believe you’re being so petty, Leo. You know I’m the class president! It’s my responsibility to help a classmate who’s in trouble. I was coming to find you right after, I just… couldn’t see where you went.” I was so angry I grabbed my water gun and shot her in the face. “Easy for you to say! You weren’t the one left to drown!” If I could swim, I would have jumped onto her raft and pushed her in. Jason, seeing the drama, started his victim act. “Chloe… it’s all my fault. Don’t fight. I’ll just… I’ll just go.” Chapter 3 Chloe immediately grabbed him. “No, Jason, don’t go!” She turned back to me. “Leo, don’t you dare regret this! I…” I cut her off by blasting her with the water gun again. “Get lost!” The stream hit her right in the head. Before she could yell, I took off my other Croc, snatched the ladle from Maya’s hand, and threw them both at her. Jason, naturally, got hit by the spray. He looked like he was about to cry. But Chloe was too busy shrieking as I pelted her to comfort him. I was still furious, looking for more ammo. Bud, seeing the look in my eye, quickly hid his own super-soaker behind his back. “Not this one, son. It’s for my granddaughter.” I turned, disappointed, only to see Maya holding out… another water gun and a pair of pink women’s Crocs. I broke into a huge grin, grabbed my new weapons, and let them have it. Finally, they paddled away as fast as they could, defeated. After the battle, we drifted on. I looked down and saw Maya’s bare feet, already pale from the cold water. The guilt hit me. “Hey, I’m sorry I threw your shoes. I’ll buy you a new pair.” She looked up, and the corner of her mouth twitched. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” Wait. Was that… a smile? I rubbed my eyes. I must have been angrier at Chloe than I thought. I was hallucinating. Bud just roared with laughter. “Hah! Pay her back? Kid, you just wait ’til we get to the end. There’s a mountain of lost shoes.” Just then, his expression turned serious. “Hold on! Rapids ahead!” A huge wave slammed into us. I lost my balance and pitched forward, right into Maya’s lap, instinctively grabbing her waist to steady myself. When the raft settled, I scrambled to get off her, but she just… wrapped her arms around my back and held on, burying her face in my chest. Seeing my confused look, she said, “Waves are big. Just holding on.” A light, fresh scent, like watermelon, hit me. My face went beet-red. I awkwardly put my arms around her, holding her steady. 【Oh my god. I’m hugging Leo. I’m never washing my hands again.】 You’re so weird, I thought. A series of waves hit us, one after another. I stopped thinking and just held her tight, shielding her. Maya had one arm around my waist and the other gripping the raft, but her smile was getting wider and wider. We finally cleared the rapids and floated into the mid-point rest area. I didn’t realize we’d stopped. Maya was still tucked into my chest, holding on tight. Bud docked the raft, looked at us tangled together, and grinned. He gave Maya a subtle thumbs-up, which she saw, and then he quietly hopped off the raft. I looked down. Maya was just… staring up at me, her eyes soft and… warm. She was gently stroking my back. A few more seconds passed before I realized the water was calm. “Uh… I think we’re here.” I looked up and met her gaze. She was staring, unblinking. 【He’s so cute. I really want to kiss him.】 My heart skipped a beat. My face felt like it was on fire. I yelped and scrambled out of her arms. After a second, I looked back. Her face was as cold and impassive as ever. …I must have misheard that. Yeah. No way she was thinking that. We walked up to the snack bar. Remembering her phone was dead, I offered to pay. She didn’t refuse. We were lucky—we got the last two Cup Noodles. But as I paid, the last two people I wanted to see walked in. Chloe and Jason. They were here for noodles, but the shelf was empty. Chloe spotted the two cups in my hand and marched over, holding out her hand. “Give me one. Jason’s cold. He needs something hot.” Chapter 4 “You’re insane.” I just walked around her. Chloe lunged, trying to grab them. I instinctively pulled Maya behind me. Maya… smiled. She put one arm around my waist, holding me, and used her other hand to shove Chloe hard. Chloe went sprawling. Wow. She’s amazing. I gave her a thumbs-up. Her lips twitched again. She shifted slightly, blocking Chloe’s death glare. 【Leo looks impressed. I wonder if I get a reward?】 A reward? How about an extra hot dog? I silently handed her one of the noodle cups and both of the hot dogs I’d bought. 【He gave me two… is this… a hint?】 I immediately snatched one of the hot dogs back. Maya’s face fell as she looked at her empty hand, and she shot me a wounded look. Jason, red-faced, was helping Chloe up. “It’s okay, Chloe. I don’t need anything hot. Cold is fine.” I was so done. I grabbed Maya’s hand and started walking away. Maya’s mind exploded: 【AAAAH! LEO’S HOLDING MY HAND! HE INITIATED IT! I’M NEVER WASHING THIS HAND! EVER!】 I almost choked on my own spit. Lady, you are SO WEIRD. Seeing me tow Maya away, Chloe lost it. She scrambled up, pointing at my back. “Leo! If you walk away right now, you are not getting a ride home in my car!” God, I wanted to smash the Cup Noodles over her head. But… food. I paused, and she took it as a win. “This place is in the middle of nowhere! You’ll never get a signal for an Uber!” I snorted. “Fine! I don’t need your ride! I’ll go live in the woods!” I pulled Maya toward the tables. I’d only just realized how obnoxious Chloe was. Our parents were old friends, so we grew up together. They’d always pushed us toward each other, and since she was usually nice, I’ll admit I kind of had a crush on her. This trip killed that. Dead. As I was fuming, Maya’s cool voice came from behind me. “You can ride with me.” Wow. She really was a lifesaver. I spun around and grabbed her hands. “Thank you! You’re the best!” Maya coughed, pulling her hands free. Her ears were bright red. I guess the legendary ice queen… was actually pretty cute. We’d just finished our noodles when the sky opened up. A torrential downpour. A staffer ran out: “Attention! This storm’s settling in! All rafting is canceled for the day! You can hike back to the entrance or find lodging nearby!” Maya and I agreed: find a room. We dashed to the nearest guesthouse, only to be told they had one room left. We stood at the counter, completely stuck. “Look, today’s a bust. Every place on this mountain is booked,” the clerk said, eyeing us. “You two are a couple, right? Just share. If you don’t take it, someone else will.” Just then, Chloe walked down the stairs. She smirked at me. “Leo. If you apologize, I’ll consider letting you have my extra room.” I couldn’t stand her smug look. I slammed my ID on the counter. “We’ll take it. We’re sharing.”

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  • Face Value

    The first thing I heard when I opened my eyes was her whisper, choked with perfectly crafted sobs. “I just… I hate that she has my face.” The voice belonged to Seraphina Vance, America’s sweetheart, influencer, and the woman I was created to be a carbon copy of. The man she was whispering to was Ashton Blackwood, my husband, the billionaire CEO who owned half of Silicon Valley and, apparently, me. “I want you to destroy it,” she breathed. I felt the air shift. Ashton’s deep voice, the one that could make markets tremble, was about to utter the two words that would seal my fate: “Bodyguards.” Before he could, my fingers, already anticipating this, tapped the screen of my phone. The slick, upbeat jingle of a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon’s commercial filled the tense silence of the penthouse living room. “Tired of sharing a face? At Elite Aesthetics, your beauty is YOURS alone. Unforgettable. Unique. Unparalleled.” In that moment, the roles of hunter and prey were about to be reversed. 1 Ashton’s brow furrowed, a thundercloud gathering on his handsome face. “Lily, what the hell is this?” I adopted my gentlest, most wounded tone. “Ashton, darling, if Seraphina is so upset about us looking alike, it must be because my face is just… unbearable to look at.” I let a small, fake tear well in my eye. “So, instead of hurting me, why don’t you just book an appointment for her? A little nip, a little tuck, and poof! Her face will be one-of-a-kind again.” To my calculated surprise, Ashton actually nodded, his logic-driven brain latching onto the “solution.” “Seraphina, honey, I think Lily has a point. It’s a great idea. I’ll book you the best surgeon in LA tomorrow.” Seraphina’s crying choked off instantly. She shot me a look that could curdle milk. “She’s a malicious bitch!” she shrieked. Oh, the irony. You wanting to have my face melted off isn’t malicious, but me suggesting a nose job is? The hypocrisy was thick enough to cut with a knife. I took out a silk handkerchief and dabbed at my dry eyes, my voice dripping with manufactured sympathy. “I was only trying to help. I feel so bad for you, Ashton, having to deal with all this drama. I just wanted to ease your burden. How could she misunderstand me so terribly?” Ashton’s masculine ego puffed up like a peacock. He turned to soothe his precious Seraphina. Incensed, Seraphina blurted out, “Then why don’t you make her get the surgery?” Ashton’s mouth, which had been opening to reason with her, froze in place. He looked like a fish, gaping and silent. It was almost comical. Seraphina, seeing her advantage, pressed on, her voice now a saccharine promise. “If she gets surgery, Ashton, I’ll never bring up this whole ‘stand-in’ thing again. We can finally be happy.” The billionaire tycoon, hearing the magic words, actually started to nod again. My internal alarms blared. I had to cut in, fast. “Seraphina, it’s no use if I get the surgery!” I cried out, my voice laced with faux desperation. 2 “And why not?” she demanded, stepping closer. I bit my lip, looking from her to Ashton, as if I were holding a terrible secret. “I… I can’t say.” “You have no reason, you’re just trying to trick me!” she accused, her voice rising. Ashton’s gaze turned suspicious. It was now or never. I took a deep breath and let it all out in a rush of feigned innocence. “Because I’m not his only one!” I exclaimed, loud enough for the entire penthouse to hear. “There’s Tiffany in Tampa, Brittany in Boston, Chloe in Chicago… Ashton has a whole network of girls who look like you, scattered all across the country! There are hundreds of us!” Silence. Dead, deafening silence. I ignored the greenish tint spreading across Seraphina’s face and continued in my most helpful tone, “So you see, even if I change my face, there are still all the others. It would take him a year and a half just to track them all down. The only permanent solution… is for you to change yours.” Ashton started coughing violently, a desperate, hacking sound. He turned to Seraphina, his eyes overflowing with a sudden, desperate love. “Seraphina, baby, I just… I made a mistake any man would make. Please, forgive me.” Her voice was a syrupy sweet whisper. “Oh, Ashton. I’m not angry with you.” I saw my opening and took it. “See? Miss Seraphina is so understanding. She must have agreed to the surgery, then.” She choked. “I…” Ashton, desperate to please, made a grand promise. “I’ll get you the top surgeon in the world, I swear. It’ll be perfect. Flawless.” Trapped, with no other way out, Seraphina had to agree through gritted teeth. “Then you have to promise you’ll only love me from now on.” “I promise.” It was such a touching scene of reconciliation. And here I was, his legal wife, feeling like the third wheel in their twisted love story. Seraphina shot me a triumphant, hateful look. “Ashton, I have one more condition. I want Lily to be my personal caretaker through my recovery.” Ashton, the ultimate simp for his one true love, agreed without a second thought. 3 That night, I tossed and turned in my bed, replaying the original script in my head. In the novel I’d somehow been thrust into, today was the day Ashton was supposed to scar my face with boiling water. Then, Seraphina would have tricked me into a back-alley surgery that would have completely destroyed my face. After that, she’d get a minor injury, and Ashton would break my legs in retaliation before throwing me out. I’d end up sold by one of his enemies into some underground hellhole, contract a disease, and die a beggar on the streets. Meanwhile, Ashton and Seraphina would live happily ever after with their nine kids and a goddamn picket fence. It was the most ridiculously skewed, insane plot I had ever read. The author clearly didn’t give a damn about anyone but the main couple. Well, screw that. The old Lily was gone. This was where the new Lily—the real me—took over. Thinking about Seraphina’s post-op face, a wicked grin spread across my own. Botox disaster or full-on melted Ken doll? I couldn’t wait to find out. 4 As expected, the unexpected happened. Oh, wow. So much for the “top surgeon in the world.” The hack job he did wouldn’t even pass muster at a strip-mall clinic in rural Texas. Her entire face looked like a lump of rising dough that had been left out in the sun. Her chin had the structural integrity of a melted candle. And her lips, the pouty feature Ashton had adored, were now two swollen, fleshy worms that couldn’t quite close. I had to dig my nails into my thigh to keep from bursting out laughing. Seraphina threw herself at Ashton, her sobs wet and muffled. “Ashton, boo-hoo, I can’t let anyone see me like this!” Even Ashton couldn’t stomach the sight. He physically turned his head away. Seraphina stared in disbelief. “You’re disgusted by me too, aren’t you? I can’t live like this!” She then began a dramatic, slow-motion run for the window, looking back over her shoulder every three steps. Ashton followed in an equally theatrical pursuit. “No, honey, I’m not! Seraphina, don’t do anything stupid!” I watched the cringey, slow-motion scene from a soap opera play out before me. Honestly, if Ashton had just walked at a normal pace, he would have caught her in five seconds. “Seraphina, I’ll love you no matter what you look like!” “Oh, Ashton!” “Oh, Seraphina!” Blech. I literally felt my stomach churn. Before, when she cried, it was a delicate, heart-wrenching sight. Now, it was like watching a water-injected ham try to emote. It was an assault on the eyes. I needed to go bleach them. 5 Ashton came downstairs, holding a tray of food with a frustrated look on his face. “You. Go make Seraphina eat.” I pointed at myself, feigning confusion. “Me?” His patience snapped. “If it weren’t for you, none of this would have happened to her!” He turned to the butler. “For every meal she misses, you will slap Lily ten times and deny her food for the day. You stop when Seraphina starts eating.” I saw the butler’s hand twitch as he started towards me. Fine. You want to play hardball? I gritted my teeth. “I have a way.” I was fuming. What did I ever do to these people? Did I burn down their ancestors’ log cabin? They wanted her to eat? Simple enough. I stormed into the kitchen, grabbed a handful of supplies, and marched upstairs, not forgetting to snatch the tray of food from Ashton’s hands on my way past.

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  • Sent to the Nursing Home by the Movie Star

    The System finally remembered me, but only after my husband and son had left me to rot in a nursing home. By then, I was just an old woman in a wheelchair, my hair a crown of white. The System apologized, its digital voice laced with surprise at my state. [Host, what happened to your points?] I lifted my tired, clouded eyes and began ticking them off on my gnarled fingers. A home for our new marriage, funding my husband’s career, my son’s rare and catastrophic illness… [You didn’t save any for yourself?] “Oh, I did,” I rasped, a dry, bitter laugh catching in my throat. “I saved them for a car accident at 68 that crippled me. For a husband who rekindled an old flame in his twilight years. For a son who couldn’t be bothered. And for this… waiting to die in a nursing home.” The System fell silent. Then, it offered compensation. “In that case,” I said, my voice finding a sliver of its old strength, “I want to go back to the beginning. I want to undo it all. And I want every single one of my points back.” I arrived in this world as a little girl with a smile that could light up a room. That’s how I intend to leave it. 1 The autumn sun was a warm blanket as the nurse wheeled me out into the courtyard. One of the other residents recognized me and turned to whisper to her friends. “This place must be really high-end. They’ve even got Julian Jeffords’s wife here.” “I heard she has the whole top-floor luxury suite. Three or four nurses just for her.” “Imagine that. A life of luxury when she was young, and now the best nursing home when she’s old, while her husband is still out there making blockbuster movies. Some people have all the luck.” A few pairs of eyes drifted over to me—some envious, some indifferent, some cold. No matter how lucky she is, their looks seemed to say, she ended up in here with the rest of us. “She’s not even that pretty. How did an outsider like her ever marry a star?” “Back in the day, her husband was the biggest name in Hollywood. The video store shelves were half-filled with his movies.” “Oh, I still have some of his posters! If he ever visits, I’m going to ask for an autograph. A final fangirl dream come true!” “Shhh… I hear he doesn’t visit much.” 2 Old minds forget, but the stir I caused every time I came downstairs was a daily ritual. Being Mrs. Julian Jeffords, wife of the legendary actor, made me an endless source of afternoon gossip. Sometimes, a bolder resident would approach me, calling me “Mrs. Jeffords” with a kind smile. The conversation always revolved around my husband, praising the tireless artist who was still so dedicated to his work, even at his age. When he wasn’t acting, he was pouring his soul into charity. Julian’s star shone so brightly it cast a benevolent glow on his wife, even from a distance. I always offered polite, brief responses. A nod here, a quiet word there. Eventually, their narrative shifted. They began to speculate that our marriage was a sham, that we’d been living separate lives for years. That Julian was only keeping me here out of a sense of duty, a final act of charity for his wife of several decades. I’d heard countless rumors about us over the years. This time, they’d finally hit the nail on the head. Mostly because I was too tired to pretend anymore. I’m no actor. I couldn’t face a camera like he did, calmly discussing his wife’s health with the practiced ease of a man who knew every detail, yet couldn’t be bothered to pick up the phone or spare an hour for a visit. “I’ve even donated to your husband’s foundation,” one woman told me, her eyes gleaming. “The one that builds libraries for children in rural communities.” “And I heard he’s now working on a project for children with leukemia! You have such a wonderful husband, Mrs. Jeffords. He’s storing up so many blessings for you!” Yes, his foundation. The one he named after me: The Effy Angel Foundation. He’d told the press his wife was a kind and gentle soul, an angel who appeared when he was at his lowest, who helped him through the darkest times. He wanted to share that warmth with the world. “Devoted Husband” was the new role Julian had adopted in his old age. In the glittering, fickle world of Hollywood, a love that lasted a lifetime was something to be celebrated. The foundation had two directors. He was one. The other was not me. The woman who traveled with him to remote towns and comforted the needy was someone else entirely. My son, Aidan, had tried to soothe me. “Mom, you can’t be so petty. Dad is doing all this to build good karma for you. He’s an old man, running himself ragged out there. Isn’t it all for you? “Your monthly expenses here—the nurses, the doctors, the special meals—it’s not cheap. Dad insists on the best. “And Isabelle is just helping him because he’s working so hard. You know how Dad is, he’s a perfectionist. He only trusts people he knows well. “Isabelle is a woman who’s been pampered her whole life, and now she’s wading through mud in the mountains for him, without a single complaint… “I guess you can only blame your own failing health.” 3 I learned about Isabelle Moreau a month ago. My son and his family were visiting. My grandson was watching a video on his phone, pointing at the screen and shouting, “Grandpa! Grandpa!” It was a broadcast from Julian’s latest charity event. After wrapping a film, he always threw himself headfirst into philanthropy. It was, in his words, the only time he felt like he was truly contributing to society—when his feet were on the ground, helping others. In the video, Julian, dapper in a black suit, was graciously introducing the foundation’s new co-director to the press. “Ms. Moreau is a dear friend of many years,” he announced. “She has dedicated herself to charity work, and we found we share a common purpose. This new initiative, providing winter clothes and shoes for children in the mountains, was her brilliant idea.” At his cue, Isabelle stepped forward. She wore a stunning, smoky-blue silk dress, a string of lustrous pearls at her throat that highlighted her timeless elegance. Basking in the flash of the cameras and Julian’s admiring gaze, she glided to the podium to detail the new project. “Look, Grandma! Grandpa’s doing good things again!” my grandson chirped, shoving the phone in my face. But all I could see were the deep smile lines crinkling at the corners of Julian’s eyes as he watched Isabelle speak. He praised her meticulous attention to detail, her kindness, her gentle spirit. The children in the mountains, he said, all called her “Grandma Isabelle.” A sharp-eyed reporter noted that Isabelle seemed to have been part of the foundation for quite some time. Her face had appeared in the background of photos from years ago, a touch of silver hair amidst a sea of younger volunteers. Julian was unruffled. “Yes, Ms. Moreau has been with the team for a long while. She’s always been hands-on, never complaining, never pulling rank. She insists on being on the front lines. Her appointment as co-director was a unanimous decision by the entire team.” I looked up at my son. “How long has she been around?” Aidan’s face became a mask of discomfort. He stammered, saying he’d only met her a few times when picking up his father. “That pearl necklace,” I said, my voice quiet. “I have one exactly like it.” A piece of that quality wasn’t a common coincidence. “The one you gave me three months ago.” Aidan swallowed hard. His wife, seeing his struggle, cut in and laid it all bare. “Two years ago, for Dad’s birthday. He celebrated it with his charity team, and we all went out to dinner. After that, they started meeting more often. She’s an old friend of his, after all. A respected elder. And… Isabelle’s company is a major partner with…” I held up a hand, silencing her. Two years ago. I’d had a bad cold that turned into pneumonia. Julian was away on a charity trip in the mountains and couldn’t get back. It was the first time I’d missed his birthday. While I was in the hospital being cared for by nurses, Julian was formally introducing Isabelle to our son. Isabelle’s family owned one of the country’s top corporations—a corporation that had a deep partnership with Aidan’s company. Seeing my silence, Aidan’s brow furrowed. “Mom, it’s not that I didn’t want to tell you. But what good would it have done? They’re just friends. Telling you would only make it seem like they have something to hide.” “Dad was just connecting me with her. Isabelle has helped my business a lot.” “I’m almost forty, Mom. I have a family to support, a career to build. I’m not asking you to help me, but at least… don’t get in my way.” As he was leaving with his wife and son, he pushed his glasses up his nose and let out a heavy sigh. “Besides…” He paused, his voice dropping. “Mom, in your condition, what can you do for me anyway? Keeping you here, paying for your care… it costs a fortune every year. Dad is pouring money into his charities, and my company is losing money.” “Mom, when you get old, you have to learn to let things go. You had a superstar for a husband. You’ve lived a glamorous life. You can’t have everything…” 4 Julian and Isabelle attended a gala. A star-struck guest mistook her for his wife, calling her Mrs. Jeffords. Isabelle blushed demurely. Julian, after a moment’s pause, laughed it off. “You flatter her,” he joked. “Isabelle looks years younger than my wife.” Isabelle was a delicate flower, raised in a greenhouse, untouched by the hardships of the world. Her petals were, of course, more vibrant than a wildflower weathered by decades of wind and rain. The System watched the clip with me, its synthetic voice full of sympathy. [Host, you’ve endured so much.] I was never supposed to be in this world for so long. I was a task-runner, forgotten when my System got into a cosmic brawl and lost track of me. My original mission was simple: help Julian Jeffords achieve fame and fortune, then gracefully exit his life. Julian was handsome, tall, with strong brows and eyes that held a deep, gentle warmth—a look that didn’t fit the rugged masculine ideal of that era. Fresh out of acting school, his childhood sweetheart had just married and moved abroad, leaving him broke and struggling. One bitter winter evening, he was huddled outside a theater, gnawing on a stale piece of bread. He looked up and saw a girl with a beaming smile. “Hi,” I said. “My name is Effy. I’m your biggest fan.” The beginning was hard. Rejection was a constant companion. I worked three jobs to keep his dream alive. Not because I pitied him, but because his success was my only ticket home. After five years of sharing scraps and washing dishes in restaurant kitchens, my hands covered in a roadmap of tiny scars, he finally landed a supporting role. I stood outside the movie theater in my stained kitchen apron, staring at the poster. Julian’s face was tiny, tucked away in a corner, completely overshadowed by the stunning lead actors. But I didn’t care. I leaned in, tracing the familiar lines of his face with my finger, smiling like an idiot. The storm clouds had finally parted. The rest of our life was supposed to be sunshine. Julian, the unknown supporting actor, stole the show. He became an overnight sensation. But I never received the “mission complete” notification. Instead, at his victory party, Julian proposed. 5 After my fifth request to return home was denied, the System went dark. That’s when I knew. I had been abandoned. Julian, holding a bouquet of roses and wearing a brand-new suit, pulled me into the spotlight for the first time. He dropped to one knee. “Effy,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for everything.” “Will you marry me?” He was a rising star. Announcing a girlfriend was one thing, but proposing was career suicide. His fanbase was made up of young women who adored his looks. An act like this could have buried him, sending him right back to that cold, tiny apartment and stale bread. That night, a fan in the crowd broke down, screaming. She lost her mind, lunging forward, trying to attack me. Reeling from the realization that I was trapped here, I was thrust into chaos. Julian wrapped his arms around me, shielding me. I watched, numb, as the frantic fan smashed a beer bottle over his head. “Effy…” he whispered, blood trickling down his temple. “Don’t be afraid…” Thinking back on it now, the memory of the man who held me so tightly, even when faced with violence and uncertainty, feels hazy, distant. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t called me by my name in years. Or maybe it’s because the only place I ever see him now is on a screen. 6 Pulling some strings, the System did some digging on Julian for me. [I have to tell you this, Host. Your and Julian’s joint assets are almost gone.] [A large portion went to your son’s startup. The rest was poured into the foundation.] [However, it appears the foundation is now primarily funded by public donations. The account that Julian controls, his personal wealth, hasn’t contributed to the foundation in a very long time.] Over the years, Julian’s “devoted husband” persona had made The Effy Angel Foundation incredibly popular. Donations from corporations and the public now more than covered all its expenses. Julian no longer had to spend a dime of his own money. Ever since I got sick, he had taken full control of our finances. [I don’t know what he’s so afraid of you finding out,] the System added. [It’s not like you have much money left to your name anyway.] I managed a weak, bitter smile. I was past the point of wanting to dig any deeper. The bond we shared as husband and wife had been discarded by him long ago, without a second thought. He and Isabelle had been in contact, on and off, for twenty years. When her husband passed away, he personally flew overseas to bring her back. It was only after my health failed that he brought their relationship out into the open. “I want to heal my legs first,” I said. Because my points had been spent in increments over many years, each request to reclaim them would take time. The System agreed. In one week, I would walk again. “But…” As an equal exchange, I had to return the value of what I was reclaiming. It wasn’t a small price. I thought for a moment. “My legs were injured because of him. The price should come from him,” I decided. “Take his lifetime of achievements. His reputation as a screen legend. Is that enough?” After all, his fame was something I’d bought for him with my points in the first place. That reckless proposal should have gotten him blacklisted by the studios. I spent a fortune in points to spin the narrative, turning a career-ending move into a testament to his romantic, daring charm. Two years ago, on a snowy night, Julian was injured on a film set. I rushed out of the house, driving frantically, and skidded on a patch of ice. His injury was minor. I ended up in the ICU for three days and three nights. My son told me that while I was fighting for my life, his father never left the waiting room. Julian, a man obsessed with his appearance, let his hair go gray in those three days. He looked like any other terrified old man in the hospital, hunched over in a plastic chair, his eyes hollow and vacant. But there was a hand on his, a soft voice whispering comfort in his ear. What I didn’t know then was that Isabelle had been there with him for all three of those days. He had trembled, turning his hand to grip hers tightly. “Thank God you’re here,” he’d whispered. “Thank God…” They say hardship strengthens a bond. I just never imagined it would be their bond that was strengthened. All it cost was my accident. A pair of legs that would never walk again. “It’s settled,” I said, my voice firm. “His lifetime of honor for a pair of legs. It’s a fair trade.” After all, I was the one who gave it to him in the first place.

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  • Playing the Part

    I was mucking out stalls for cash when I accidentally splattered horse manure on the bumper of his G-Wagon. He was already in a foul mood, sulking over his adopted sister’s latest romance, but he’d never yell at her. So, he threw his anger—and his keys—at my head. “If you don’t break up with that townie loser, you can get the hell out of our house!” The girl, Chloe, burst into tears. “Then who do you want as your sister? Her?” She jabbed a finger at me, still rubbing the spot on my forehead where the keys hit. The crown prince, Julian, didn’t even look at me. He just sneered. “Yeah, fine by me.” I was about to speak when bright, ethereal text scrolled past my eyes: 【LOL, does Stall Girl actually think he’s serious? He’s just lashing out.】 【He already regrets it. If she hesitates for one second, he’ll take it back.】 【Although… if she did become a Thorne family ward, she’d be set for life. Money, private schools, the works…】 I snapped to attention. “Hi, big brother!” The moment the words left my mouth, the air went dead. Everyone’s expression soured. Julian Thorne looked me up and down, his eyes finally landing on the muck caked on my boots. His face was a mask of confusion. “You… seriously want to be my sister?” I nodded, looking up at him through my eyelashes. “Are you going to take it back?” His expression froze. He just stood there, his jaw tight. “Julian!” Chloe shrieked, stomping her foot. “You promised I was your only sister!” The silence stretched for a few more seconds. Julian sighed, his voice going flat and cold. “Sorry. I was just kidding.” My stomach dropped. The floating text reappeared: 【Wow. I’ve seen desperate, but this is a new low. Begging a stranger to adopt you.】 【She should take a look in the mirror. A literal farm girl covered in horse shit. Does she really think she can compare to our perfect, sweet Chloe?】 【Besides, the ‘sister’ role is a special status reserved for the female lead. He’s never letting some random girl take that title.】 I rubbed the growing bruise on my forehead. I looked down, my voice small. “In that case… can you just pay me more?” Julian gave me three hundred-dollar bills. By the time I left, the siblings were back to normal. Chloe was giggling, hanging on his arm, though she shot me a smug look over her shoulder. “That’s probably not even enough for me to buy a new backpack. Should we give her more, Julian?” A chorus of 【Chloe is the sweetest! A true angel!】 filled my vision. I carefully rolled the bills and shoved them deep into my pocket, shaking my head. “No… that’s fine.” This was compensation, not a shakedown. I grabbed a rag from my bucket and meticulously started wiping the manure off his bumper. Good. It was coming off clean. The whole time, Chloe watched with a hand over her mouth. “Ew, Julian, it stinks! Is that what manure smells like?” Julian shot her a look, but for once, didn’t reply. He just watched me until I had cleaned his entire car. He didn’t say another word. But just as he was about to get in, he frowned, pulled out his wallet, and stuffed another wad of cash into my hand. That money from Julian was a lifesaver. I split it three ways. One part for my high school tuition. One part for living expenses. And one part for the hospital bills. When the money ran out, I started collecting cans. Right after school until late at night. The next time I saw Julian, he was drinking alone on a park bench. Under the streetlight, his silhouette looked thin, his handsome features shadowed with a kind of deep, lonely frustration. The floating text, which had been silent for weeks, flickered back to life. 【Aww, he just saw Chloe kissing the supporting-character guy. My poor baby’s heart is broken.】 【She’s just being a rebellious teenager! It doesn’t mean she doesn’t love Julian!】 【If only Chloe could see how much he cares! She’s only acting out because she knows Julian will always spoil and forgive her!】 【He knows what the problem is, he just can’t bring himself to be hard on her, can he?】 … I quietly walked over and set a carton of milk on the bench next to him. My eyes flickered over his watch. It was worth more than my tuition. I took a deep breath. “Big brother.” He looked up, his dark eyes heavy and unfocused. “What did you call me?” I was so nervous, my voice trembled. “If you take me in… I can help you. With your sister.” He just stared at me. “You? How?” This was it. This was the moment. I widened my eyes, trying to look as sincere as possible. “I’m a really good cook. I can clean… I’m a really hard worker. I can do all the chores…” His expression shifted to something like amusement. I dropped my gaze, my voice trailing off. “…I can just be a servant. I’m cheap. You should consider it…” My voice got quieter and quieter, fading into the night air. After a long moment, I heard a sound. A quiet huff of laughter. Julian was actually smiling. It lit up his face. “My family doesn’t have a history of employing child labor.” My shoulders slumped. “Oh.” I turned to leave. “But,” he called out, “I am currently in the market for a sister who’s a little more… obedient.” I whipped around, not daring to believe it. “What’s your name?” he asked. “Mia.” The air seemed to freeze for a second. A tiny, almost invisible frown crossed Julian’s face. 【Mia??? Isn’t that the same name as the scheming, evil side-character?】 【I thought she was just a random extra… no wonder she’s throwing herself at him.】 【She’s the one who keeps trying to seduce the male lead, which makes the female lead (Chloe) jealous. All her little plots fail and just end up pushing the main couple together.】 【I heard that in the end, Julian personally marries her off to some 70-year-old creep… who has a psycho son.】 … I just stood there. My hands were in my pockets, rubbing my last two dollars together. Compared to another day of not knowing if I’d eat… …my future husband’s age didn’t seem all that important. Finally, Julian ruffled my hair. “Let’s call you Mia Holland. It’s easier to remember.” Julian’s parents were good people. They didn’t freak out when he brought home a random girl. They just gave me the guest room. They didn’t agree to formally adopt me, though. They wanted an “observation period.” Chloe, however, threw a fit. She screamed. She cried. She went on a hunger strike. It took Julian four hours to calm her down. When he walked out of her room, he looked exhausted. I felt a wave of despair. I was so sure I was about to be kicked out, I packed my small bag and sat on the front steps all night. I woke up to someone nudging me with their foot. “What, are you running away?” Julian asked, sounding annoyed. His eyes landed on my face, and he paused. “Huh. You clean up nice. You’ve even put on some weight. Looks better than the scrawny look.” He casually pinched my cheek. “Relax. You can stay. My parents really like you.” I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I slept soundly that night for the first time in a week. No more collecting cans. No more worrying about tuition or food. I poured all my energy into my studies. I was in the top ten of my class by the end of the month. With me as a new “comparison,” Chloe finally felt the pressure. She stopped skipping class. She ignored the letters from the “supporting-character” guy. She actually started studying. The day she broke up with him, Julian did something he’d never done: he came to pick me up from school himself. “Nice work, sis,” he said. He was leaning against his car, a rare, genuine smile on his face. He was holding an unlit cigarette, and the look in his eyes was… proud. It was the first time he’d ever called me ‘sister.’ I couldn’t help but smile back. My smile seemed to make him pause, just for a second. I smoothed my skirt, playing the part. “I know what I have to do next, brother.” I started, very deliberately, “bothering” Julian whenever Chloe was around. Julian was a picky eater. I learned all his favorite dishes and made a huge show of bringing him lunch at his office, rain or shine. It got his employees talking. “The new sister is so much more mature than the other one.” “She’s smart, she’s polite, and she actually takes care of her brother.” Julian would just smile mysteriously and ruffle my hair. Those rumors got back to Chloe, just as I’d planned. After a predictable tantrum, she started… trying. She’d ask Julian about his day, offer to get him things. One night, Julian was washing fruit for Chloe. I snuck up behind him and covered his eyes. “Guess who, brother…” I whispered. I felt his long eyelashes flutter against my palms. He turned, grabbing my hands. His expression was… strange. “Mia. Personal space. You know that, right?” Just then, Chloe walked into the kitchen. Her eyes turned red. She stormed out. From then on, Chloe not only became super-clingy with Julian, she started treating me as her mortal enemy. After my SATs, she convinced her parents to send me abroad for college. “Julian is my brother, not yours. You can’t steal him. Stay away,” she warned me, her voice cold. I didn’t say anything. I just thanked her profusely. My scores were high. I could get into a better school overseas. For four years, I didn’t forget my “promise” to Julian. I couldn’t be there in person, so I’d send him things for his car—like a little bobblehead that looked like me. Sometimes, his passengers would tease him. “Girlfriend put that there?” Julian would just smirk. “Something like that. She’s a handful. Can’t live without me.” When I’d come home for breaks, I’d ignore Chloe’s death glares and pretend to have nightmares so he’d have to sit with me. My junior year, some frat boy wouldn’t leave me alone. I called Julian. He flew out and handled it. He was a great acting partner. He always knew exactly what to do to make Chloe jealous. He played the part of the perfect, doting brother so well. Sometimes… sometimes, I thought he played it too well. He’d buy out every flower shop in the city and have them deliver camellias to my dorm, just because I’d idly mentioned I liked them. He’d call late at night and ask, “Do you miss me?” And when I’d say yes, he’d be on a plane the next morning. Slowly, everyone in Julian’s circle learned he had this new sister he was completely obsessed with. His friends would look me over, their smiles a little too slick. “Damn, Julian. Your sister’s hot.” “How old are you, sweetheart? You dating anyone?” From the corner of my eye, I saw Julian, who had been lounging, sit up straight. He was frowning. I answered honestly. “I dated someone.” “Oh yeah? Who? Does ‘big brother’ know?” I smiled sweetly. “Just a stupid college thing. I kept it from him. I guess I’m confessing now.” “A college thing?” one of them laughed. “So, what, you held hands? That doesn’t count, sweetheart. Boring.” “Shut up, you assholes. All you think about is sex,” Julian cut in, his good mood suddenly restored. He slung an arm around my shoulder. “My sister is the best. She’s only ever cared about me. She wouldn’t have time to date anyone behind my back.” Is that so? A very different, very specific, very dark memory flashed in my mind. I just smiled and nodded. “That’s right, brother.” But I couldn’t stop the heat from rushing to my face.

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  • Seeing Red

    My period chose the absolute worst week to crash the party: Freshman Orientation Boot Camp. The cramps felt like someone was wringing out my insides with rusty pliers. I raised a shaky hand, my voice barely a whisper, asking the Drill Instructor for a break. A heartbeat later, Sophie’s hand shot up too. Sophie. My boyfriend Liam’s childhood best friend. The girl he grew up next door to. I glanced over at her. Her face was fresh, her ponytail bouncing, not a single drop of sweat on her perfectly tanned skin. Instructor Davis scowled, his patience already worn thin by a hundred clueless freshmen. “This isn’t a spa day. I’ve got one spot on the bench. One. The second person who thinks they need a break can think again.” From the guys’ platoon across the field, Liam’s voice cut through the morning air. “Harper, come on, you’re tough as nails! Sophie… she’s always been kind of delicate.” He wasn’t finished. “It’s just cramps, babe. Can’t you just let her have this one?” 1 A wave of obnoxious laughter rippled through the guys’ formation. “Damn, Liam, already got her cycle tracked on your Google Calendar?” “He said she’s ‘tough as nails,’ man. Guess he’s done his own… durability comparison with his ‘delicate’ little friend.” Sophie blushed and swatted the air in their direction. “Oh, stop it, you guys! A guy can’t worry about his little sister from another mister?” “Ooooh, ‘little sister’!” they hooted back, nudging each other. Someone yelled a crude joke, “If you’re so worried she’s tired, Liam, maybe you should do all the heavy lifting for her tonight!” Sophie feigned anger and tossed an empty water bottle at them. The guys’ instructor barked at them to get their heads out of their asses and run laps. That just left us. Our instructor, Davis, looked at me. My face must have been ghost-white because a cold sweat was prickling my hairline. He pointed a thick finger at me. “You. Go to the medical tent.” Then he jerked his chin at Sophie. “You. Get back in formation. Now.” Her perfectly shaped lips immediately formed a pout. She shot me a look of pure venom. “I guess I just can’t compete with some people’s acting skills,” she muttered, just loud for me to hear. “Truly method.” 2 These weren’t just cramps. This was a five-alarm fire. I ended up having to get a shot of high-strength painkiller from the camp nurse just to uncurl from the fetal position. During the lunch break, Liam showed up at the medical tent. He handed me a bottle of lukewarm water, his words laced with something sharp. “Sophie’s on her period too, you know. Never seen her need a shot for it. Harper, if you’ve rested enough, you should probably get back out there. It doesn’t look good, you taking the only pass. Everyone’s thinking you’re just trying to get out of drills.” A cold dread pooled in my stomach, worse than the cramps. “What do you mean, you’ve ‘never seen her need a shot’? Just because she’s not in pain, I have to be? Liam, are you saying I’m faking this?” He pressed his lips into a thin, annoyed line. I stared at him. “So you didn’t come here to check on me. You came to see when I’d be done playing sick so your precious Sophie could have a turn at slacking off, is that it?” He set the water down with a sigh heavy with martyrdom. “That’s not what I mean. Sophie’s just… she’s sensitive. I’m just trying to look out for her, there’s nothing else to it. Harper, can you please not be so jealous?” My vision went sharp and clear. All the pain seemed to focus into a single point of icy calm. “Childhood sweethearts, inseparable, I get it. If you’re in love with her, Liam, you didn’t have to start dating me.” Panic flared in his eyes. “What? That’s crazy! I don’t feel that way about her at all!” I turned my face away. “Just go. I don’t need you here.” 3 That afternoon, I dragged myself back to the training field. Instructor Davis gave me a curt nod and pointed me back into line. “Wow, a miracle recovery,” Sophie whispered as I stood beside her. Every step was agony. I white-knuckled it until dismissal. The second we broke formation, Liam was there, holding out an ice-cold bottle of Gatorade. “Look, maybe I was a little harsh at lunch…” he started. “I just feel like…” I ignored him, unscrewing my own thermos and taking a long sip of the warm water inside. His hand hung in the air. “Still hurts?” I kept sipping my water, my eyes fixed on Sophie across the field. She was laughing with a group of friends, her cheeks flushed with a healthy, vibrant pink. “I don’t care what you ‘feel like,’ Liam. If you want to play detective, why don’t you go ask her how she’s so full of energy after she was supposedly dying this morning?” He froze. Sophie happened to look over at that exact moment. Her laughing face instantly crumpled into a mask of hurt. “I only bought her that drink because I was worried you were in trouble,” she said, her voice trembling as she walked over. “If she won’t drink it… does she really hate me that much?” 4 Liam immediately went into damage control mode. Sophie’s eyes were already glistening. He hesitated, looking completely torn, then pushed the icy bottle toward me again. “Harper, come on, just take one sip. It’s a peace offering from Sophie…” The seconds ticked by. I didn’t move. Liam’s patience snapped. He roughly shoved the bottle into my hands. “Just get over it! It’s a period, not a terminal illness! Do you have to be so damn dramatic about everything?” The freezing plastic slipped from my grasp and thudded onto the dusty ground. “FALL IN!” Davis yelled. Liam was already by Sophie’s side, walking her back to her platoon. I could hear their voices drifting back. “Liam, why would you date someone like that the second you get to college?” I saw him gently ruffle her hair. “It’s okay, Soph. It’s my fault.” I walked back to my spot. As I passed Sophie, she turned her head just enough for me to see her mouth the word. Loser. A white-hot rage shot through me. I raised my voice, making it loud and sharp enough to cut through the noise of the assembling platoons. “WHO ARE YOU CALLING A LOSER?!” Everyone froze. All eyes were on us. Sophie looked stunned for a second, then her eyes instantly filled with tears. Instructor Davis marched over, his face like a thundercloud. “What’s going on here?!” She wrung her hands, looking helpless. “Sir, I… I don’t know why she’s always coming after me…” The guys’ platoon started murmuring. When Instructor Davis turned his glare on me, I took a deep breath. “Sir, permission to speak, Sir! As I was walking past, I heard someone say your training methods were ‘lame as hell’.”

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  • After being reborn, the truth came to light.

    On the fifth anniversary of my marriage to my stepbrother, he killed himself. He left me only a torn piece of paper. On it were three words: I hate you. He had every right to hate me. He’d raised me for ten years, and I’d repaid his kindness by drugging him and climbing into his bed. I made him lose the love of his life. I faked a pregnancy to trap him into marrying me. I knew he didn’t love me, but I was too selfish to let him go. In the end, I drove him to his death. And I died on the way to his funeral. I thought that would be the end of it, a final, clean break. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I drugged him. Caleb was dead. I was in a coffee shop with my lawyer, finalizing the divorce papers, when the call came. “Give him the money, the house, everything,” I said, my voice flat. The lawyer looked at me, surprised. “Ms. Ross, you intend to walk away with nothing?” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his expression baffled. “My understanding is that Mr. Hayes initiated the separation. Legally, he’s the party at fault…” I held up a hand to stop him. “Just write it that way.” The money, the house—it was all his. I’d already poisoned so many years of his life; I had no right to his possessions now that it was over. “Well, in all my years handling divorce cases, you’re certainly the most generous client I’ve ever had,” the lawyer said with genuine admiration. A bitter smile touched my lips. If he knew what I’d done to Caleb, he wouldn’t be saying that. For years, everyone in Caleb’s life had a name for me: the psycho. The monster who’d coveted her own stepbrother. The ungrateful viper he’d raised. “If you’ll review this one last time, you can sign right here. I’ll have the agreement couriered to Mr. Hayes.” My heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise as I took the pen. I’d just started the first letter of my name when my phone rang, shattering the quiet of the café. “Am I speaking with Ms. Stella Ross? This is St. Jude’s Medical Center. We’re calling about your husband, Caleb Hayes. He was admitted following a suicide attempt…” The pen slipped from my fingers and clattered to the floor. A high-pitched ringing filled my ears, and the world blurred. I never imagined he hated me that much. That he would rather die than spend another day tied to me. But he was just one signature away. I was so close to finally setting him free. Part 2 By the time I reached the funeral home, Caleb was already in an urn. The moment she saw me, his grandmother, her eyes red and swollen, slapped me hard across the face. “You monster. How dare you show your face here?” I didn’t flinch. I just stared at the black-and-white photo of Caleb, my mind numb. It had been six months since I’d last seen him. That was the day he’d asked for a divorce. “Jessica’s back in town,” he’d said, his voice devoid of emotion. “After all these years, I’ve never forgotten her.” He looked away, unable to meet my eyes. “Name your price, Stella. Whatever you want. Just sign the papers.” I’d flown into a rage. I smashed everything in the living room, screaming at him like a banshee. “A divorce, Caleb? Don’t you even think about it!” I’d shrieked. “The only way I’m leaving this marriage is in a casket. There’s no divorce for me, only widowhood.” He didn’t say a word. Just like every other time we fought, he silently started cleaning up the wreckage I’d made. I thought I’d won. I thought the subject was closed. But when I woke up the next morning, he was gone. His clothes, his pictures, every trace of him had vanished from the house, as if he’d never been there at all. And now, my own words had become a twisted prophecy. I was a widow. Right at the moment I’d finally decided to give him his freedom. A metallic taste filled my throat, and a wave of pain so intense it buckled my knees brought me to the floor. A storm of regret washed over me, but all it produced was a useless, silent, I’m sorry. Grandma Hayes refused to let me attend the funeral. She ignored my pleading and physically pushed me out of the building. When I tried to force my way back in, she shoved a crumpled piece of paper into my hand, her eyes burning with hatred. “You want to see what he left behind? This is it! This is the only thing he left!” I froze. My fingers automatically smoothed out the paper. The familiar handwriting sent a chill straight through my soul. “Still want to come in?” she asked, her voice dripping with venom. I shook my head, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. The three words on the paper burned in my mind, a repeating, searing mantra. I hate you. Caleb never made enemies. It was painfully obvious who those words were for. Part 3 I clutched that piece of paper and stood outside the funeral home all night. I couldn’t go in, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave. As dawn broke, I saw his family emerge, carrying the urn. They got into a car. I scrambled to mine and followed at a distance. The road leading up to the cemetery was a winding mountain pass, slick and treacherous from last night’s rain. The higher we climbed, the more difficult the driving became. I prayed silently, a desperate bargain with a universe that had never listened. Just let me see him off. Just let me finish this one last journey with him, and I’ll do anything. As the thought crossed my mind, a shadow fell over my car. A massive boulder, dislodged from the cliffside by the rain, crashed down onto the roof. The piece of paper I’d been holding fluttered onto my lap. I looked at the words—I hate you—and laughed through my tears. Of course. I was so arrogant I’d forgotten. Caleb didn’t want me here. He didn’t want me to see him off. As my vision faded to black, I closed my eyes and made a vow. “Caleb, if there’s a next time, I swear I’ll leave you alone.” Part 4 “Stella, are you insane?!” “I’m your brother! You drugged me!” The familiar voice echoed in my ears. I apologized instinctively. “I’m sorry.” The words had barely left my lips when a pair of strong hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me close. “A little late for sorry, don’t you think?” His warm breath tickled my ear. I snapped my eyes open in disbelief. Standing in front of me, very much alive, was Caleb. “Caleb?” His eyes were flushed with a mixture of desire and anger. I immediately shoved him away and, acting on pure instinct, slapped myself hard across the face. The stinging pain was real. Tears of pure, unadulterated joy streamed down my cheeks. It wasn’t a dream. I was really back. “I’m not the one who’s mad, why are you hitting yourself?” Caleb frowned, grabbing my hand. His eyes were filled with… concern. A fresh wave of guilt washed over me. It was just like the first time. I was the one who had drugged him, who had planned this whole disgusting thing. But instead of being furious, he blamed himself for not being a better guardian, a better brother. Afterward, he’d taken all the blame. His fiancée, Jessica, broke up with him. His grandmother was so enraged she’d cut him off completely for a year. Through it all, he never once told them what I had done. If I hadn’t become more and more possessive, more unhinged over the years, he never would have come to hate me so much. He never would have sought death as an escape. Remembering how I never even got to see him one last time, I pulled my hand from his grasp, my eyes red. “Caleb, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it… I just wanted to see if this stuff worked. I’ll call 911 right now…” I fumbled for my phone, but he suddenly grabbed my wrist, his grip tight. His voice dropped, and his eyes darkened. “You were… testing it on me, Stella?” he asked, his voice dangerously low. “If it worked, who were you planning to use it on?” I hadn’t expected him to believe my frantic, ad-libbed excuse. But then I realized, this was the perfect out. If he thought I was in love with someone else, it would be a relief for him. A good thing. I forced a shy, embarrassed smile. “The quarterback at my school. I’ve had a crush on him for ages. When I confessed to you before, I was just… practicing.” The hand on my wrist tightened, his knuckles turning white. “Stella, you used me as a guinea pig for some other guy?” “Is he really that special?” Part 5 “Is it really worth it, Stella? To do something like this for a guy?” Caleb’s expression was a complicated mix of disbelief and… something else. It was like he was scolding a naive little sister, but also like he was interrogating the ghost of my past self. For a moment, the present blurred with the past. The first time this happened, right before I pushed things past the point of no return, he had held my hand just like this and asked me the same question. “Stella, do you have any idea what you’re doing? What people will say? Is this really worth it to you?” Back then, I was young and fearless, blinded by my obsession. I knew the world would condemn us, but I didn’t care. I just tilted my head up and kissed him. “It’s worth it,” I’d whispered. The scene shifted back to the present. I said the same two words, but this time, I pulled my hand away from his. “Caleb, he’s the love of my life. Anything is worth it for him.” I immediately dropped my gaze to the floor, terrified he would see the blazing love for him in my eyes. And because of that, I missed the flicker of disappointment that crossed his face. “Fine, Stella. You’d better not regret this.” Before I could answer, he’d shoved me out of the hotel room and slammed the door. Remembering the intensity of the drug, I hesitated for a moment and knocked. “Caleb, are you sure you don’t need me to call 911?” Silence. My anxiety spiked. I was about to call security to break down the door when a familiar voice came from behind me. “Stella? What are you doing here?” I turned around stiffly. A pang of pain shot through my chest when I saw who it was. “Jessica. What are you doing here?” Jessica held up a small paper bag from a pharmacy and smiled, a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “What do you think, sweetie? We’re all adults here. I’m not here to play Monopoly with your brother in the middle of the night.” Before I could respond, the hotel room door opened. Caleb stood there in a bathrobe, his hair damp. He frowned when he saw I was still there. “Why haven’t you left yet?” A bitter coldness spread through my chest. I kept telling myself this was for the best. Caleb and Jessica were supposed to be together. It was only natural that he would call her. This was the right thing. “Never mind, the medicine…” he started to say. “You guys are busy! I’ll head home now!” I practically fled. The moment I was back in my own apartment, the tears started falling. I guess people are just greedy creatures. I was the one who chose this path, to put things right, to go back to being a normal sister so he could live a long, happy life. But the second I saw him standing with another woman, the pain was unbearable. Every cell in my body was screaming at me to go back and drag him away. I didn’t sleep all night. When I opened my eyes, the very first thing I wanted to do was check his Instagram to see if they’d made it official. I slapped myself. Then I jumped out of bed and started packing. “Stella, what are you doing now?” “Caleb? Why are you home so soon?” I stared at him, my mind reeling. From my past life, I knew how strong that drug was. Last time, he had kept me in that hotel room for three days straight. How was he home after just one night? He saw the look on my face and his expression darkened. “What, you’re disappointed to see me? Were you hoping I’d be gone longer so you could pack up and move in with your precious quarterback?” I never thought he’d jump to that conclusion. It was almost funny, but also deeply sad. I would probably never get the chance to live with the person I loved. “No, that’s not it,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m moving into the dorms. It’ll save you the long drive to pick me up from campus every day.” My university was on the other side of the city. I should have moved into the dorms freshman year, but because of my obsession with him, I’d stayed at home, forcing him to drive me back and forth every day. I paused, then added, “Besides, we’re not real siblings. And now that we both have people we’re interested in, it’s… probably not a good idea for us to live together anymore.”

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