Category: English

I’ve been on TLC’s hit reality show *Last Chance Lovers* twice in one year. The first time, my husband Leo Vance and I tore each other to shreds on national television. When the season wrapped, he became my ex-husband. The second time, I was sitting in the studio as a special guest commentator. My agent, Chloe, had tried to talk me out of it. “Genevieve! You have an Oscar nomination, for God’s sake. Why are you going back to reality TV?” Why? To watch my second ex-husband-in-the-making crash and burn, of course. 1 The show’s director was practically bowing. “Ms. Reed, we’re so honored you could make time for us. Truly. Whatever you need, you just say the word. We’ll build the whole show around you.” I gave him a slight nod. Chloe quickly ushered him out of my dressing room. My, how times have changed. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. A year ago, I was here with Leo, about to film the first season of *Last Chance Lovers*. He was a nobody actor, and I was even less than that—a ghost in the Hollywood machine. Back then, I’d overheard that same director complaining in the hallway. “Tell me about it… the A-lister dropped out last minute… otherwise you think we’d be casting these Z-listers? Ugh. But hey, our show’s a hit. Everyone wants a piece of the clout.” I’d wanted to tell Leo we should just walk away. Why were we killing ourselves to claw our way up in this town? But I remembered a rare moment of tenderness from him. “Gen, being on this show doesn’t mean we actually have to get a divorce. This is a huge opportunity, babe. It’s the last year of my contract. I just want one shot to go viral, to show all those casting directors who passed on me what they’re missing.” “Gen, you’ve always talked about wanting a family, right? Once I’m a star, we can have as many kids as you want.” “Just say yes. You’ve waited for me for this long. It’s finally our time to cash in.” Leo’s eyes were sparkling. I signed the contract, and in doing so, signed myself over to the abyss. On the show, Leo became a different person. He listed my every flaw, waxing poetic about his “depression” within our marriage. He talked about how I had “trapped” him, suffocated his career, how he just needed to be free. I started trending on Twitter, but not in a good way. The comments were brutal. “OMG so THAT’S what happened to Leo Vance. I thought he was pretty good in that CW sci-fi show before it got cancelled.” “This is what happens when women don’t have their own careers. They just turn into bitter, nagging housewives.” “SO TOXIC. If I were him, I’d run for the hills. Is this woman a narcissist?” “My poor baby Leo. He deserves so much better.” Every time I tried to defend myself, Leo would shut me down with an exasperated sigh. “I already told you, it’s all scripted for drama. If you keep making a scene, I really will divorce you.” So I swallowed my rage. I started to wonder if maybe they were right. Maybe I wasn’t enough. It all culminated in the season finale, where Leo made a grand declaration in front of the cameras. “Genevieve, this journey has given me a lot of clarity. We’ve been together for so long, but do we even really know each other? I think it’s time we set each other free. The house, the car, it’s all yours. I’ll walk away with nothing.” And just like that, he divorced me. It’s been 321 days since that day. My phone buzzed. A payment reminder for the mortgage. I looked at Chloe. “Any word from the realtor?” Her face was grim. “Gen, you know the market is garbage right now. A house that big in the Hills, at that price point… it’s a tough sell. And that guy is such a bastard. It sounds so noble, saying he’s leaving you the house. Why didn’t he also mention he was leaving you the crippling debt that came with it?” Yeah. Why was he such a bastard? He never even liked me, but he was desperate to marry me. And when he wanted a divorce, the first I heard of it was when he announced it on camera. Well, now it was my turn to be the bastard. Since the whole world didn’t seem to know that the new wife he brought on this season was the same woman he’d hit on during the *last* season, I figured I’d let them in on the secret. 2 I walked into the studio wearing a floor-length black gown, as if I were attending my ex-husband’s funeral. The lights were blinding, but I could feel every eye in the room on me. An ex-wife showing up to comment on her ex-husband’s *second* televised divorce attempt? That was worth a hundred trending topics. Especially when that ex-wife had, against all odds, landed her first movie role and gotten a Best Actress nomination, staging one of the biggest comeback stories of the year. “Genevieve, what a surprise! We never thought we’d get you back on the show,” the host said, all fake smiles. “What’s more surprising is that Leo is back for a second divorce, this time with someone else,” I replied smoothly. “Who knows if he’s for real this time or not. As an expert witness, I figured I could offer his new wife some… pointers.” “Hahaha, well! Since you’re being so refreshingly honest, I know this is going to be a great show. Shall we get started? This is a live broadcast, you know.” Of course, I knew. That’s why I came. I wanted Leo to see the little surprise I’d prepared for him in real-time. The show’s intro rolled, and the camera focused on me. “Wow, it looks like the viewers are excited! We’ve just gone live and we’ve already broken the network’s streaming record. Let’s see what our viewers are saying.” What did I want to say? I wanted to say: *“Roll up, roll up! This is the ‘good guy’ you all felt so sorry for, the one who just wanted to escape his marital prison. Turns out, he was already promising the world to his next cellmate before he’d even broken out.”* *“And you, Seraphina Stone, you absolute fool. You really fell for a man who was hitting on you before his divorce was even final? Well, look at you now. Karma’s a bitch, isn’t she?”* *“I’m here today to witness the blessed event of your separation. You two better make it official.”* But I needed the money, and my reputation. The network offered me a number I couldn’t refuse, so I couldn’t completely blow things up in the first episode. *At least make it through three episodes*, I told myself. *No, just make it until my dear ex-husband sees me on his TV screen.* 3 I saw Leo on the monitor first. He was thinner than the last time I’d seen him, and he had a worn-out, haggard look. Funny how the day he divorced me was the brightest he’d looked in years. I can still picture him standing in the sunlight outside the courthouse, waving that little divorce decree, looking me up and down with a sneer. “For the record, I didn’t cheat on you, Genevieve. Even without her, we were over. Got it?” Right now, the host on screen was asking him that very same question. “Leo, we understand you and Seraphina actually met during the filming of the last season. Is that right? Do you consider what happened to be cheating?” “This past year, that question has been crushing me,” Leo said, his voice thick with fake sincerity. “I don’t get it. When the show aired, everyone agreed that Genevieve and I were a terrible match, that I was miserable. But then, suddenly, I’m the cheater? All I did was meet the love of my life at the exact moment I decided to end a relationship that was already dead.” The rest of what he said was a blur. I didn’t snap out of it until the studio lights came up and everyone was looking at me. “Genevieve, what’s your take on the situation back then?” It was time to act. Chloe had told me once, “Gen, you have a gift. Why are you letting this jerk derail your entire future?” So I smiled, a gentle, sad little smile, directly into the camera as the live comments scrolled furiously. “It all happened so long ago. Why dredge up the past? It seems like my ex is really trying to make things work this time. It wouldn’t be right for me to interfere with their life by talking about our old story. Besides…” I pressed a finger to the corner of my eye, careful not to smudge my makeup. “…I’m doing just fine now.” I glanced at the monitor showing the viewer comments. “‘I’m fine now’ is code for ‘he destroyed me back then’!!!” “Wait, so Leo is basically admitting he got with Seraphina before the divorce?” “Dude, you’re not even divorced and you’re already falling for someone else. That’s called cheating, you moron.” “Go back and watch last season. The editing was so shady. All they showed was Gen’s supposed ‘flaws,’ and most of it was just Leo complaining. Maybe he was the real problem and that’s why she felt so insecure.” “Where’s the other woman? Let’s hear her side of the story.” The producers knew good TV. The next segment was Seraphina’s one-on-one interview. 4 Seraphina sat there, not like a homewrecker, but like a beautiful, proud swan. She wasn’t just any swan, though. She was last season’s on-set host. During the mandatory “couples hike” episode, her job was to interview each couple privately at the summit. But on the way up the mountain, Seraphina was already getting a private interview with Leo. “Oh, this trail is so steep! Can someone help me?” she’d chirped. I was stronger and further up the trail, so I reached down to give her a hand. But Leo, moving faster than I’d ever seen him move in my life, shot past me and grabbed her hand first. The only other time he was that quick was in bed—right after, when he’d roll over and start snoring before I could even ask how his day was. Any other time, I could call his name a hundred times and he’d just grunt, “In a minute,” “I’m busy,” or “Can’t you do it yourself? You’re home all day, what else do you have to do?” Seraphina giggled, and their hands stayed clasped for a solid five minutes. I finally had to whisper, “Be careful, the cameras are still rolling. A scandal is not the kind of viral fame you’re looking for.” He reluctantly let go, then turned on me. “See, Genevieve? This is the problem. In your eyes, even helping someone is a crime. This hypersensitivity is what ruined our marriage.” Of course, none of that made it into the final cut. And it certainly wasn’t mentioned in Seraphina’s interview now. “It’s really hurtful that everyone misunderstands,” she said, dabbing a single tear. “Leo and I only met that one time on the show. We just politely exchanged numbers for professional reasons. I admit, I would occasionally text him to ask about his career, but I was never the ‘other woman.’ I even explained this to Genevieve, you can ask her.” “But none of that matters now,” she declared. “What matters is that I want a divorce.” *You couldn’t even make it to your one-year anniversary?* I thought. *You two should have been shackled together from that moment on the mountain.* On camera, I put on a look of deep sympathy. “Oh, sweetie, you have to be sure. My ex… he can be a handful, I know. But men, they need time to mature, don’t they? To give up so soon? Think of all the pressure you two were under to get together. To divorce this quickly seems like such a waste.” I leaned in conspiratorially. “And if you want to have kids, you have to keep trying. Sometimes, you know, it’s just the mental stress that can cause… issues.” I snapped my mouth shut, feigning a gasp, as if I’d just revealed a massive secret. Heh. I did it on purpose. The comment section exploded. “WAIT. Did Gen just say Leo has performance issues??? IS THAT THE TEA??” The viewers had caught on. 5 After the show wrapped, I checked my phone. One unknown number had called me a dozen times. Worried it was the realtor, I called it back. It was answered before the first ring. “Genevieve, are you insane? Why are you sticking your nose in my marriage?” The voice was both completely alien and painfully familiar. When he was divorcing me, I had been pathetic. I had swallowed my pride and tried to contact him in every way possible. I wrote him long, forgiving emails. I told him I understood it was a moment of weakness, that it was my fault, that I would wait for him to come back. I had waited for him to marry me; I could wait for him to return. Leo had blocked me on everything and changed his number. The only reason I knew when and where to show up for the divorce was because his agent told my agent. And now, here he was, calling me himself. “And what the hell was that comment? Are you telling the whole world I have erectile dysfunction?” “What? You must have misunderstood, Leo,” I said sweetly. “I was just talking about pressure. If your mind went somewhere else, I can’t help that.” “Why are you on that show? Do you have any idea what people are saying about me online right now?” When I was in love with him, I thought he had the most beautiful voice in the world. Now, it was just grating noise. I held the phone away from my ear and let him rant. When he finally paused for breath, I replied, “Well, the network invited me. The show was very good to me, you know. I couldn’t just turn my back on them.” And it was true. The show hadn’t just helped me see the truth about a toxic relationship; it had gotten me seen by a director. I’d come to Hollywood to be an actress. I took a nothing role as the eighteenth female lead in that CW sci-fi show, thinking it was a start. But on set, I met Leo. He was flirting with the famous lead actress, a peacock showing off all his feathers. The sun caught his hair, his perfect nose. He was beautiful. I just wished I was the one he was making laugh. At the wrap party, I finally worked up the courage to sit next to him. He was drunk, schmoozing with a producer. Finally, he turned to me. “Let me give you some advice, kid. This town is tough. If you’re not sleeping with someone important, you’re not gonna make it. I think you should just…” He tilted my chin up with his finger. “…find a nice guy and settle down while you’re still young and pretty.” I was a little drunk myself. “Would you marry me?” I blurted out. He didn’t say no. I know how stupid I was. I made chasing him my career and forgot about my own dream. It was after the reality show, after I’d been publicly humiliated, that a director contacted me. “The role isn’t very glamorous,” he’d said. “Every actress we’ve offered it to has turned it down. The ones who want it can’t act. But I saw you on that show. I think you’ve got it in you. Want to audition?” I needed the money to pay the mortgage, so I went. I played a hysterical housewife who discovers her husband is cheating. The character has a complete breakdown, murders him, and then drives her car off a cliff in a blaze of glory. It was the most cathartic experience of my life. The indie film unexpectedly got into a major European film festival, and I was a nominee for Best Actress. Leo was still screaming on the phone. I’d had enough. “And what about you?” I cut in, my voice sharp. “Is this another fake divorce just to get your name trending again? Give me a spoiler. Are you already lining up your next girlfriend?” “You’re sick, Genevieve,” he spat, and hung up. Damn it. I didn’t get to tell him, *“Actually, according to Twitter, you’re the one with the sickness.”* And I didn’t get to say, *“By the way, Seraphina’s love isn’t as unconditional as you think.”* 6 Before Leo and I officially divorced, Seraphina had requested a meeting. She sat across from me at a cafe in Beverly Hills, twisting the engagement ring he’d already given her. “Gen,” she said, “do you believe in destiny? Leo was on the brink of stardom, you know. But marrying you… it was like you stole his luck. Look at him now that you’re breaking up. He’s all anyone is talking about. Why don’t you just give him his freedom? Let him become the star he was meant to be. I’m sure he’ll even thank you in his awards speech.” “And where do you fit in?” I asked. “Oh, Leo says I’m his muse. He says I don’t need to work. My only job is to be his sanctuary.” I’d heard that line of bullshit before. “Honestly, Gen, Leo and I are so spiritually aligned on this,” she continued. “He just *gets* me. I’ve never felt like my hosting job was my true calling. It’s so exhausting. I mean, you saw me on that hike. I couldn’t have made it up that trail without help.” “It was a two-mile loop with a 500-foot elevation gain. Maybe life itself isn’t for you.” “Gen, sweetie,” she said, her voice dripping with condescension. “If you really love him, you should let him go. You can always love him from a distance.” That was the moment I decided to divorce Leo. Not because I was a good person, but because I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. I was sickened that I had let myself fall into this trap. Sickened that I had waited for a man like that. Sickened that he had only married me to squash a nasty rumor about him and a female network executive. “You want to get married, right? Let’s do it now,” he’d said, like it was a business deal. I was sickened that he later used that to manipulate me. “If I hadn’t married you, if I’d just kept my connections happy, I’d be a leading man by now.” He would say things like that, and I would just try to love him harder. After my meeting with Seraphina, I went home and cried. A new article had just been published online with paparazzi photos of me talking to her. The headline read: “Genevieve Reed Confronts Husband’s Female Friend in Desperate Bid to Save Marriage.” And in the comments, I saw a familiar username—one of the anonymous accounts I used to use to defend Leo online. The comment said: “OMG I know Leo, he and Seraphina are just friends! Some women can’t handle their own marriage failing so they go and harass innocent people. It’s disgusting.” That was it. I was done. I didn’t want any of it anymore.

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I was in the middle of reviewing my company’s nine-figure revenue stream when I got the call. They had found my birth parents. They said that if I wanted to be officially welcomed into the Donovan family, I would have to pass their test. I’d have to go through five rounds of written exams and interviews to get a job at their company, prove my worth in an entry-level position, and only then would they consider accepting me. A few days later, I received the interview notification. The HR manager in charge of my assessment was none other than the fake heiress they had accidentally raised as their own. “Luna is the heiress we’ve groomed her whole life,” they’d told me. “She’s currently training in Human Resources. She’s meticulous and sharp, the perfect person to vet you.” “Frankly, she’s a better fit as a Donovan than you are. If she finds any serious flaws in your character or abilities, we’ll have to reconsider acknowledging you at all.” I had to laugh. I instructed my secretary to clear my schedule for the interview. I was dying to see just how “meticulous” the HR department of Donovan Corp—the same company that had been crying and begging for a partnership with me just last week—could possibly be. 01 At the request of Thomas and Laura Donovan, I dressed down, sitting inconspicuously in the interview waiting area of Donovan Corp while my boyfriend, Leo, chattered endlessly in my ear. “Zoe, can you believe our luck? Do you know who the lead HR interviewer is? The Donovan heiress, Luna Donovan!” “I heard she’s been the apple of their eye since she was a child, the guaranteed successor to the Donovan empire. If we can get on her good side, we’re set!” I raised an eyebrow. I had to admit, Luna’s public image was solid. No one seemed to know she was a complete fraud. Leo, annoyed by my lack of reaction, nudged me with his elbow. “You’d better be on your best behavior. I know you have a simple background, but who knows? You might get lucky.” I scoffed internally but said nothing. My boyfriend of four years had become a different person the moment he’d received this interview notice—arrogant, insufferable, already dreaming of his shortcut to the top. My patience was wearing thin. I’d tried to break up with him several times, but his relentless pleading always wore me down. The door to the waiting room swung open. Luna entered, flanked by an entourage, and glided to the microphone. “Good morning, everyone. I am Luna Donovan, the head of this recruitment cycle.” Her voice was soft and sweet. Her eyes scanned the room, and when they landed on me, her chin lifted slightly. Her next words were clearly a veiled jab. “Here at Donovan Corp, we believe in quality over quantity.” “As you know, our compensation is very generous. Many of our new hires start with a salary of around $200,000 a year. However, I don’t want people joining our group who are shortsighted, willing to do anything for a bit of money.” I almost burst out laughing. My own secretary made more than a million a year. Two hundred thousand dollars? That was less than five minutes of my company’s cash flow. Beside me, Leo nodded vigorously. He leaned in and whispered, “See? Miss Donovan is warning people not to get any funny ideas. Just be honest later. Don’t exaggerate anything. I bet she can spot a liar a mile away.” I pursed my lips, speaking just loud enough for those around us to hear. “If her eye for detail is so sharp, why is she wearing last season’s collection? I gave that same dress to my housekeeper last year.” The girl next to me let out a snort of laughter before quickly clapping a hand over her mouth, nodding at me in solidarity. On the stage, Luna, disappointed at not seeing the flustered reaction she’d expected from me, bit her lip. But time was short, so she announced the start of the interviews. “We’ll go in groups of ten. When your name is called, please enter. First group, Zoe He!” I blinked in surprise. Not only was it a group interview, but I was first. It seemed the little heiress wanted to make an example of me in front of everyone. 02 Luna picked up my resume, flicked through it with an air of impatience, and tossed it aside. “Zoe He, is it?” She scanned me from head to toe. When she spoke again, her voice was still sweet, but it dripped with a manipulative innocence. “First question. Looking at your resume, your family background is quite… ordinary.” “Walking into a major corporation like Donovan Corp for the first time, you must be nervous, right? Terrified? Don’t even know where to put your hands and feet, I imagine?” I was genuinely stunned for a second. I never imagined such a brainless, leading question would be her first attempt at an assessment. “I’m… fine?” The question was so utterly unrelated to professional competence that it actually stumped me for a moment. I had to quickly organize my thoughts to respond to her sudden bout of idiocy. “It’s just, uh, the chairs in your company are a bit firm. I guess I’m not used to it.” Luna’s face took on an expression of profound understanding. “Oh, of course. Our chairs are all made of high-quality wood, not the cheap plastic ones you’re probably used to. You’ll have to get accustomed to it.” I rolled my eyes, suddenly missing the $30,000 Italian leather sofa in my office. Seeing my silence, Luna assumed she’d hit a nerve. Suppressing a smile, she continued in a mock-sympathetic tone. “Alright, let me ask you something else. Let’s say—and this is just a hypothetical—someone from your kind of background suddenly gets incredibly lucky and wins five million dollars in the lottery. What would you do with the money?” “Would you quit your job immediately? Start splurging? Buy a luxury car, designer clothes, eat at fancy restaurants, travel the world?” This question earned a few slight frowns from the other interviewers. It was completely irrelevant to the job assessment, but this was clearly Luna’s show, and they couldn’t intervene. My mouth twitched. I was ready to walk out. But then I glanced over and saw Leo through the glass window of the waiting area, frantically waving his hands, signaling for me to answer properly. A reluctant smile played on my lips. Fine. If she wanted to play, I’d play along. Five million? The spare change I donated to a charity fund last month was more than that. “Well,” I said thoughtfully, “I suppose I would probably buy a new car.” After all, I was getting tired of the ones in my garage. It wasn’t exactly a lie. Luna covered her mouth with her hand and let out a theatrical little giggle. “That’s understandable! It’s more money than you could ever dream of seeing in your entire life, after all.” Before I could respond, she launched into her third, even more ridiculous question. “Okay, let’s follow that thought. Let’s say you’re hired as the CEO’s executive assistant, against all odds. On your first day, you need to drive the company’s Rolls-Royce to take me to meet an important client.” “You’ve never driven such a nice car before, so you’re nervous and you get into an accident. The repair costs could be over a million dollars. What do you do? Would you just burst into tears on the spot? Or would you try to sneak away?” She winked playfully. “This is a test of your ability to think on your feet, you know.” Watching her, practically salivating at the thought of my humiliation, I answered with a perfectly straight face. “That would depend on your condition, Ms. Donovan.” “If you were merely injured, I’d call a car to take you to the hospital. If you were seriously injured, I’d call an ambulance immediately. And if, god forbid, you didn’t make it…” I paused for effect. “I’d slam my head on the steering wheel too. Get some of that worker’s comp, you know?” The other candidates in my group erupted in laughter. Luna’s face turned a shade of sickly green. “You—!” Furious that her attempts to fluster me had not only failed but had backfired, she scrambled to regain control. “Someone from your background probably doesn’t even know how to open the door of a Rolls-Royce! It’s easy for you to talk big here!” “You have to understand, as the sole heiress to Donovan Corp, I’ve been surrounded by this level of luxury my entire life. My perspective, my knowledge—it’s in my blood.” Warming to her theme of superiority, she straightened her back, her chin held even higher. “My eighteenth birthday present was a custom sports car. The kind of scenario I just described could never happen to me.” “Unlike some people who think they can just change their status and become a princess overnight. When it really matters, they’re completely useless and just embarrass the company.” I was about to roll my eyes so hard they’d get stuck. Just as I was about to drop the act, the glass door opened again. 03 The newcomers were none other than Thomas and Laura Donovan, my birth parents. They were beaming, their faces plastered with fawning smiles. I was wondering what was going on when I saw who they were ushering in: a tall, impeccably dressed young man with an air of effortless command. I froze. It was Caleb Vance, the heir to the Vance Conglomerate. Luna’s eyes lit up instantly. Her face transformed into a mask of sweet innocence, her voice becoming soft and delicate. “Caleb! What are you doing here?” She instinctively fluffed her hair and tilted her head, affecting a cute, girlish pose. Thomas Donovan chuckled. “Mr. Vance is here to discuss some business and tour the facility. We happened to be passing by and thought we’d check on the interviews.” As he spoke, he gave Luna a pointed look, urging her to seize the opportunity. Laura quickly chimed in. “Yes, Luna is in charge of recruitment this year. She’s always so meticulous and serious about her work. We have complete faith in her.” Luna got the message. She immediately began shuffling papers on her desk, trying to look professional. Caleb’s gaze, however, had sailed right over her from the moment he walked in and landed squarely on me. A smirk he couldn’t quite suppress played on his lips. My stomach dropped. I felt a wave of social death wash over me. Of all the people to see me here, it had to be him. To maintain a low profile, I’d always operated from behind the scenes, letting my VP act as the public face of my company. Caleb was one of the very few outsiders who knew my true identity. After he’d figured it out, we’d become surprisingly good friends. Just last week, he’d found out about my Donovan connection and had mercilessly teased me for finally escaping poverty by building my own empire, only to be dragged back down by my “new” family. He raised an eyebrow, his eyes asking the silent question: What in the world are you doing here? I held up my resume to hide my face, feeling utterly defeated. Don’t ask. My birth parents are having a moment, and I’m here to play doctor. “Mr. Vance, you’re interested in our recruitment process?” Thomas asked, following Caleb’s gaze. He seemed to notice me, his biological daughter, for the first time, and his eyes narrowed. Laura shot me a warning glare, silently telling me not to cause trouble. Caleb tore his eyes away from me and turned back to Thomas, his expression once again cool and distant. “Yes, I happened to walk into something quite interesting. You don’t mind if I sit in, do you, Mr. Donovan?” As he spoke, he shot me a secret wink. I just… I couldn’t. Was it too late to pretend I didn’t know him? Seeing Caleb’s request to stay, Luna was ecstatic. “Of course not!” she chirped. “Caleb, please, have a seat.” She personally brought over a chair, eagerly placing it next to hers before shooting me a triumphant glance. I just wanted the floor to swallow me whole. The interview continued. I thought Luna might tone down the ridiculous questions, but she chose to double down on her foolishness. She cleared her throat. “Zoe He, let’s continue with another hypothetical. If, after this interview, you were hired by Donovan Corp against all odds, but you soon discovered that your abilities were completely inadequate for the job, what would you do?” Caleb, listening from the side, let out a low chuckle, watching me with amusement. Luna, thinking he was impressed by her sharp questioning, became even more animated. “Would you hide in the bathroom and cry every day from your own incompetence?”

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1 When the fire broke out, Mom grabbed my little sister, and Dad hoisted my older brother onto his back. They ran. They left me behind in the flames. My face was burned. And just like that, the demanding, attention-seeking child I once was… disappeared. I was dying anyway. Let them have the scraps of love I no longer wanted. But then they regretted it. They held my thin, scarred hand and begged, “Please, just throw one more tantrum for us. Please?” Mom held my sister, Maya, close. Dad carried my brother, Leo, on his back. They burst out of the burning house and clung to each other, sobbing with relief. “Is there anyone else inside?” a firefighter yelled, rushing toward them. Mom spun around, her eyes frantically scanning her children. She pointed to my brother and sister. “Leo and Maya. Both of them are here. They’re all here!” “Are you sure?” the firefighter pressed. But Mom’s world had shrunk to just the two of them. She didn’t answer, just kept murmuring, “They’re safe, they’re safe,” pulling them into an even tighter hug. That’s when I stumbled out of the house, my hand over my mouth, coughing. Her words made me feel like a pathetic joke. My body was covered in soot, my clothes in tatters. They, having escaped early, were practically untouched. The strength that had gotten me out of the house evaporated. My legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the ground. A searing pain shot through my back. My name is Clara. But I’ve always been the extra one. 2 “Leo, stop tickling me!” Once the initial shock wore off, Maya and Leo started playing, their laughter a small comfort to my distraught parents. But then Maya tripped, and her hand landed directly on the raw, open burn on my back. “Ah!” I screamed. I could feel the freshly dressed wound tear open, blood seeping through the bandages. Maya scrambled to her feet, hiding behind Leo, her dark eyes wide with fear. “Clara!” Mom’s voice was sharp with reprimand. “Stop throwing a fit! Why did you yell at your sister?” Her gaze landed on my face, and she flinched, a look of disgust flashing in her eyes. It was the burns, I knew. And she thought I was faking because her attention had been so focused on the other two that she hadn’t even seen the firefighters tending to my back. She never saw me. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I ran to the edge of the lawn and sobbed, my cries echoing in the night. They all fell silent. When I finally quieted down, Mom came over, holding Maya’s hand. She reached for mine. I flinched away. Her hand froze in mid-air. “Clara, please try to understand,” she said, her voice weary. “It’s not that we don’t love you. It’s just… Leo is in the middle of a big promotion at work, and Maya is so young…” I looked at her through my tears. “Can’t you just be the sensible one, for once?” I had to laugh. It was so absurd. The sensible one. The one who was always expected to make do with the leftovers. Seeing me laugh, Mom must have thought I was over it. She grabbed my hand and placed it on top of Maya’s. “There, that’s better. Now, say you’re sorry to your sister, and we can all move on. We’re a family, after all.” Her voice was gentle, but her eyes were fixed on Maya, cooing and comforting her. I snatched my hand back. Mom’s face hardened. “I have three children,” she said, her words like daggers, “and you’re the only one who turned out so spoiled.” She scooped Maya into her arms and walked away. Spoiled. Demanding. That’s what they called me. I used to fight for their attention, for every scrap of affection. I knew if I didn’t, I would get nothing at all. But now… I was dying. I had an illness they didn’t know about. I was done fighting. 3 Our house was gone. We needed a new place to live. “Finding a place for a family of five is going to be tough,” Dad said. “We’ll have to split up for a while. We can take two of the kids, but we’ll have to send one to stay with relatives.” All eyes turned to me. I just smiled a bitter smile. The old me would have thrown a massive tantrum, would have cried and screamed until they gave in. But Leo and Maya never had to scream to get what they wanted. This time, I didn’t make a scene. I just nodded and took a step back. “I’ll go,” I said, my voice hoarse. They all looked surprised, but no one argued. So I was sent to live with my uncle. Life there was a tightrope walk. At first, they were kind. But soon, the smiles faded, replaced by cold, hard stares. It didn’t matter that I woke up early to do all the chores, or that I collected cans to earn a little money to give to them. Nothing I did was ever enough. One afternoon, I overheard them talking. “When is she leaving?” my aunt asked. “Just a few more days,” my uncle sighed. “I can’t stand it. She… she smells. Every time I talk to her, I feel like I need to take a shower. And another mouth to feed… it’s a lot of pressure.” I looked down at my clothes. They wouldn’t let me use the shower, afraid I’d use too much hot water. That night, at dinner, I forced a smile. “Uncle, I think I’d be more comfortable in the basement. And I can just make my own meals from now on.” They looked at each other, and for the first time in weeks, the tension in their faces eased. “Here, Clara,” my aunt said, placing a piece of chicken on my plate. “You’re too thin. You need to eat.” 4 The basement was freezing. The wind whistled through the cracks in the door, a thousand tiny needles pricking at my burns. I wrapped myself in a threadbare blanket, my body shaking. I hadn’t had anything to drink all day. The thirst was unbearable. I crept upstairs. A stray cat was lapping at a puddle of dirty water on the floor. I hesitated, then knelt beside it. When you’re dying of thirst, dignity doesn’t seem so important. The water was cold and sweet. When I stood up, I saw my brother, Leo, standing there, his face a mask of cold fury. He had been watching me. He was the last person I expected to see. I tried to run, to hide, but he grabbed my arm. “We’re going home. It’s New Year’s Eve.” I shrank away, terrified he would smell the stench of the basement on me. But he just tightened his grip. “Let’s go.” I found myself in front of their new home, a charming two-story house with a small yard. They weren’t struggling financially. So why couldn’t they have taken me with them? I hesitated at the door. Inside, I could hear them laughing, my parents calling Maya their “sweet baby girl.” I didn’t belong here. “Where’s Clara?” Maya asked suddenly. The laughter stopped. “She burned our house down,” my mother’s voice was like ice. “She’s lucky we’re even letting her come for dinner. When she gets here, we’re going to give her a piece of our minds.” I looked at Leo in disbelief. “You were there. You know it was Maya who started the fire…” “Shut up!” he hissed, his voice low and threatening. I flinched, my body tensing. I had become so sensitive to anger, to any hint of disapproval. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Maya is fragile,” he said, his voice a little softer. “Don’t make a scene. Does it really matter who started it?” It mattered to me. But I just nodded. “I won’t say anything.” He seemed to relax. “Come on, let’s go eat.” I shook my head. “Can you give me some money? I need to buy medicine.” His face hardened again. “Is that all you ever think about? You finally come home, and the first thing you do is ask for money?” He pulled a few bills from his wallet and threw them at me. I knelt to pick them up, my face impassive. “Is that it?” he sneered. “I humiliate you like that, and you don’t even fight back?” The old me would have. But I was tired. I just wanted to leave. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my abdomen. My period had started, and I had just drunk dirty, cold water. “Can I have a glass of hot water?” I begged, my voice trembling. “Please?” Seeing me so weak, a smirk played on his lips. He said nothing, just turned and went inside, slamming the door behind him. “She’s not coming,” I heard him announce. The pain was overwhelming. I collapsed onto the cold steps, and the world went black. Vaguely, through the haze, I thought I saw their horrified faces. 5 I woke up to the smell of antiseptic and the sight of a white ceiling. A nurse smiled at me. “You’re awake.” “Who brought me here?” I asked. “Your family,” she said. My heart twisted. They had brought me to the hospital. The nurse hesitated, then patted my hand and left. I lay there, tears streaming down my face, until I fell back asleep. Later, I heard the nurse whispering to a colleague. “It’s so sad. Their other kid wanted to go out to eat, so they just left her here. Who does that?” The pain in my chest was worse than the pain in my back. I thought I didn’t care anymore. Why did it still hurt so much? 6 That night, they brought me leftovers from the restaurant. “Clara, we brought you food!” Maya chirped, running toward my bed. I quickly lifted my arm, moving the IV out of her way. They all froze. I knew what they were thinking. There she goes again, being difficult. I forced a smile and took the food. “Thank you. I’m starving.” The food was cold, but it tasted like heaven. When I was done, I huddled under the blanket. “Thank you for bringing me to the hospital,” I said, trying to sound as cheerful and grateful as I could. They exchanged glances and left without a word. “It’s like she’s trying to make us feel guilty,” I heard Leo mutter as he slammed the door. I flinched and pulled the blanket over my head.

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1 The day my husband’s first love died during a rock-climbing trip, he left a suicide note and jumped off a thousand-foot cliff. It was then I knew he’d never loved me. Then I woke up—reborn in my college years. This time, my now-ex Kevin broke up with me immediately and ran to his first love Daisy. Watching him leave, I finally let go, erasing him from my heart. Eight years later, I saw him again at a gala for Sterling City’s most powerful magnate. Kevin was a finance titan, Daisy still sparkling on his arm. Spotting me alone in a corner, he frowned in annoyance. “Elara, you’ve got nerve tracking me here,” he said contemptuously. “Stop chasing me. Even in eighty years, I’d never choose you.” I glanced at him, then walked toward my daughter hiding under a table, secretly drinking juice. His face twisted with rage. “You married some random guy and had a kid just to make me jealous? Have you no shame?” … Seeing that familiar figure across the crowded ballroom sent a jolt through me, a flicker of disbelief in my eyes. I never imagined that the next time I’d cross paths with Kevin Sterling would be at a gala thrown for Ethan Thorne’s return to the country. In the center of the room, Kevin’s arm was draped possessively around Daisy’s shoulders. He moved through the crowd with an easy smile, schmoozing with practiced charm. The quiet, brooding artist I once knew was gone, replaced by a polished executive. “Mr. Sterling, congratulations! You’re the youngest CEO in Sterling City’s financial sector. The sky’s the limit for you!” “Indeed! An invitation from the Thorne family at your age? You’re destined for greatness.” “And is this your lovely wife? You two make a perfect couple.” Kevin accepted the flattery with a gracious nod. “Daisy is my fiancée,” he announced, his smile widening. “We’re getting married in July. I expect to see all of you there.” A chorus of “Absolutely!” and “We’ll be there!” followed. Then, a former classmate of Kevin’s chimed in. “Kevin, you and Daisy were the campus golden couple. Why the eight-year marathon to the altar?” At that, I set down my glass, my gaze drawn back to him. Truthfully, I wanted to know the answer to that myself. After all, Kevin had loved Daisy to the point of madness. In my past life, the news of her death had driven him to leap from a cliff, ending his own life without a second thought. And in this life, when we were reborn back in college, he’d dropped me like a hot stone to chase after her. How could two people so supposedly in love still not be married after all this time? It was bizarre. Across the room, Kevin’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second, a shadow of awkwardness crossing his face before he smoothed it over. “Daisy was my first love, the only woman I’ve ever truly wanted. I refused to let her settle for anything less than perfect,” he said, his voice dripping with carefully crafted sincerity. “That’s why I’ve worked myself to the bone all these years—to give her the wedding of her dreams, the grandest the world has ever seen.” He looked down at Daisy, his eyes shining with a devotion so intense it felt theatrical. Daisy beamed, leaning into him. “I can’t wait, Kevin.” Watching them, a wave of bitter irony washed over me. So this is what Kevin looked like when he was truly in love—considerate, devoted, willing to build a world for someone. It was a universe away from the man he’d been with me. In our last life, no matter how much I gave, he refused to marry me. It was only when I became pregnant by accident and his grandfather intervened that he grudgingly agreed. I’d had enough of this charade. The party felt suffocating. I stood, ready to leave, when a flash of movement under a nearby table caught my eye. A little girl with two pigtails was hiding there, downing glass after glass of fruit punch. I shook my head with a sigh and started walking toward her. In my haste, my elbow clipped a wine glass on the edge of a table. CRASH! The crystal shattered, scattering like diamonds across the marble floor. “Hey! Who are you?” a waiter snarled, stepping in front of me, blocking my path. “Who let you in here? Do you have any idea how much that glass you just broke costs?” His expression was pure contempt. The entire room went silent. Every head turned in our direction. Kevin’s eyes found me, and he froze, shock widening his gaze. “Elara?” he breathed out, then his expression hardened. “You’d even crash a party hosted by the Thornes just to get to me?” The crowd murmured, their curiosity piqued. “Mr. Sterling, you mean she’s not an invited guest?” Kevin’s jaw tightened, a hint of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. “My apologies, everyone, for the interruption. She’s… an ex.” 2 At the word “ex,” knowing smirks spread across the faces in the crowd. “Quite the collection of beauties, Kevin! An ex and a fiancée, both stunning!” “Wait a minute… didn’t he say Miss Daisy was his first love?” “So where does this ‘ex’ fit in?” The questions hung in the air, and Kevin’s face turned rigid. Daisy, nestled in his arms, shot me a look brimming with a venomous mix of disgust and resentment. “It’s a misunderstanding,” Kevin said quickly, his tone dismissive. “She’s not really an ‘ex.’ More of a… rebound I had during a brief argument with Daisy.” Having delivered his explanation, he turned to the waiter. “Put the glass on my tab,” he commanded. “And get her out of here.” Throughout the entire exchange, he never once looked directly at me, treating me like some piece of filth he was ashamed to acknowledge. A part of me was just… tired. But another part was relieved. This was good. In this life, I wanted nothing to do with him. “Alright, you heard him. Let’s go,” the waiter said, shoving me impatiently. “Look at the state of you. As if you ever had a chance with a man like Mr. Sterling.” He sneered, his eyes flicking over my slightly dusty sweatsuit. My patience wore thin. “Just a moment,” I said, my voice firm. “I need to find someone. Once I do, I’ll leave.” The waiter scoffed. “Find someone? Do you take me for an idiot? I’ve seen your type a million times. Don’t think you can hang around here scouting for your next meal ticket.” He grabbed my arm, his grip tight, and started dragging me toward the exit. Suddenly, a voice cut through the air. “Wait.” It was Daisy. She glided toward us, her arm looped possessively through Kevin’s, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips. “Elara, Kevin has never loved you. You need to stop harassing him,” she said, her voice dripping with condescension. “We’re getting married. What you’re doing… it’s no different from being a homewrecker.” “She’s right,” Kevin added, his brow furrowed in annoyance. “I never loved you. Stop clinging to fantasies. It’s been eight years. You could wait another eighty, and I would still never be with you.” He paused, then offered, as if granting a great favor, “Look, I’ll transfer you a million dollars. Just promise you’ll disappear from my life for good.” He had Daisy pull his phone from her purse. He opened his banking app, then froze. “Elara? You… you blocked me?” His voice cracked with disbelief, rising in pitch. “What else was I supposed to do?” I replied, a hint of exasperation in my tone. We made a clean break. Why would I keep his number? Besides, the man in my life now is the king of jealousy. If he ever found out I still had an ex’s contact information, he’d throw a fit to end all fits. My casual question seemed to enrage him. His face darkened. Daisy immediately jumped to his defense. “How dare you, Elara! Playing these pathetic games again!” she spat. “Did you really think a cheap trick like blocking him would make him feel sorry for you? Dream on!” She pressed herself against Kevin’s arm, purring, “Kevin, darling, don’t waste another second on her. It’s obvious she found out you’re a CEO and came crawling back. Women like her are nothing but gold-diggers.” “I know,” Kevin muttered, nodding as he shot me a look of pure disgust. Daisy’s eyes raked over me, from my worn sneakers to my simple ponytail. “You graduated from a top university, for God’s sake. Couldn’t you use all that energy you spend chasing men to build a career? Look at you. You’re pathetic. You look worse than a beggar on the street.” Her words were so ludicrous, I couldn’t help but laugh. Daisy, of all people, had clearly forgotten the mud she’d crawled out of. 3 Daisy’s family were dirt-poor farmers from generations back, living in some forgotten corner of the mountains. Worse, she was utterly devoted to her parasitic younger brother, treating him like a king. After she got with Kevin, she sold every single gift he ever gave her to fund her brother’s life. The first time I met Kevin, he was in the hospital. He’d been working a side job to give Daisy’s brother some cash and had ended up with a broken leg. Under pressure from his family, who despised Daisy, he’d finally broken up with her. That was the darkest period of his life. And I was the one who sat by his side, slowly helping him find the light again. Kevin loved to paint, so I hunted down tickets to every exclusive art exhibition I could find, no matter the cost. I was his driver, his nurse, his companion, flying with him all over the world to see the great masters. I bought him the finest canvases and pigments money could buy. I took care of everything—his meals, his laundry, his life. All he had to do was be happy. Even his own friends said I was the girlfriend of the century. Everyone assumed I was madly in love with him, but the truth was, Kevin was the one who asked me to be his girlfriend. I never saw his confession coming. He was always logging into a secret social media account to stalk Daisy’s life. I thought he was still hung up on her. But then he looked at me, his eyes full of a deep, earnest emotion. “Elara,” he said, his voice soft. “You’re my salvation. Without you, I don’t think I’d still be in this world. I’ve fallen in love with you. I want to spend every day with you.” My heart soared. I said yes. We were together for eight years. Even Kevin’s parents were shocked that their restless, impulsive son had settled into such a stable relationship with me. But no one knew the truth. Over those eight years, I asked him to build a home with me, to start a family, more times than I could count. Each time, he found an excuse to say no. It wasn’t until I accidentally got pregnant and his parents found out that he was forced, under immense pressure from his family, to marry me. He didn’t even want our child. During our marriage, we were on an outdoor adventure trip when he heard the news of Daisy’s death. He locked himself in a room for three days and three nights. On the fourth day, when I finally broke down the door, all I found was a note. Daisy was the only love of my life. Without her, my existence is meaningless. In the next life, I hope I can give her the grandest wedding of all. It was then I realized that the night before, Kevin had followed his first love into death, leaping from a cliff. My heart turned to ash. So, in this new life, when he wanted to leave me for Daisy, I didn’t try to stop him. I felt nothing but relief—an overwhelming sense of gratitude for a second chance, a new future free of him. I turned to leave the party, but Daisy stepped in my way again, her chin held high. “Elara, look at that sweatsuit. That style went out a decade ago! You look absolutely pathetic. How about I ask Kevin to pull some strings and get you a job as a server here?” “Miss Daisy is too kind,” a man trying to suck up to Kevin chimed in. He glanced at me, his lip curled in a sneer. “This is the most luxurious ballroom in Sterling City. A server’s tips here can reach thirty thousand a month! A woman like you has probably never seen that much money in her life. You should get on your knees and thank her!” A wave of irritation washed over me. “I have a job, thank you. I don’t need your charity.” But Daisy wasn’t finished. “Oh, really? I bet you’re lying. What kind of job?” “I’m an artist. I paint.” At my words, Kevin, who had been silent, suddenly snapped his head up. His eyes locked on mine, a storm of complicated emotions swirling within them. “Painting?” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. After a moment, he looked at me, his expression softening into something like pity. “I only said I liked to paint on a whim back then. I can’t believe you took it so seriously. Fine. For old times’ sake, I can offer you a decent job.” I blinked, realizing his mistake. He thought I’d chosen to become an artist because of him. The truth was far simpler. When I was reborn, I discovered I’d already spent all my savings on exhibition tickets and art supplies for him. Not wanting them to go to waste, I started painting myself. And somewhere along the way, I fell in love with it. Now, years later, my work has gained some renown across the country. I even get invitations to hold exhibitions overseas. My income is significantly higher than Kevin’s, the so-called young CEO. But I wasn’t going to tell him that. Kevin had never been one to believe me anyway. Besides… I glanced down at my clothes. My sweatsuit was a bit grubby. But I’d been driven to the gala straight from the airport after a week of sketching in the mountains. I hadn’t had time to change. What did it matter? I met Kevin’s gaze, my voice cool and distant. “I love my work. I plan to keep painting. But thank you for your concern.” His face darkened instantly. “Elara, do you have to be so stubborn?” “Kevin, let it go. She’s not worth getting angry over,” Daisy cooed, trying to pull him away. Just then, the waiter from before stormed over, his face contorted in fury. He pointed an accusing finger at me. “You’re a thief!” “What?” “That sweatsuit! You stole it from one of the other guests, didn’t you?” “That’s ridiculous. I bought this myself,” I said, frowning. “Liar! I recognize the brand. It’s a bespoke label! Someone like you couldn’t even afford one of the buttons!” Hearing this, Kevin’s expression soured into disgust. “Elara, what has happened to you?” “So that’s your ‘job,’ huh? A petty thief!” Daisy sneered. “You have two hands and two feet. How could you resort to stealing?” I felt the weight of dozens of judgmental stares. The whispers started around me, and my face grew cold. These people would say anything to get on Kevin’s good side. My patience was gone. “I said, this is my clothing!” My voice was sharp, cutting through the murmurs. “If you don’t believe me, call the police. Otherwise, I’ll sue you for slander.” The waiter’s bravado faltered, a flicker of fear in his eyes. “Why are you getting so defensive? If it weren’t for the fact that I don’t want a lowlife like you ruining Mr. Thorne’s gala, I’d have you arrested right now!” “Speaking of which,” someone in the crowd piped up, “isn’t it strange that Ethan Thorne hasn’t made an appearance yet?” “A man of his stature always makes a grand entrance at the pivotal moment,” Kevin said confidently. “I heard he brought his wife and child back with him this time!” “Really? Which family’s daughter was lucky enough to capture his heart?” “A titan like Ethan Thorne… he lives in a different world from us.” As the crowd buzzed with speculation, a thrilled smile spread across Daisy’s face. “Kevin, darling, do you think you could invite Mr. Thorne to our wedding? Imagine how prestigious that would be!” “I’ll do my best,” Kevin said, his chest puffed with confidence. Just as he spoke, the venue manager, flanked by a dozen security guards in black suits, hurried toward the crowd, his expression grim. 4 “Ladies and gentlemen,” the manager announced, his voice tight with anxiety, “have any of you seen a little girl, about this tall?” He held his hand out, measuring the height in the air. A collective gasp went through the room. People exchanged nervous glances. It had to be Ethan Thorne’s child. Who else could command such a frantic, high-level search at his own party? “I heard Mr. Thorne’s child is a little girl!” “Yes, yes, around four or five years old!” someone added. A jolt of excitement shot through the crowd. They had been racking their brains for a way to connect with the legendary Ethan Thorne, and now, fate had dropped the perfect opportunity right in their laps. Instantly, the ballroom erupted in motion as guests fanned out, eagerly searching for the missing child based on the manager’s description. Kevin and Daisy were at the forefront, pushing past others in their haste. I watched the chaotic scene unfold and shook my head with a wry smile. This little troublemaker really knows how to make an entrance. I walked straight to the juice station. There she was, my daughter, downing another glass as if her life depended on it. I crossed my arms, my brow furrowed. “Still thirsty?” She spun around. When she saw it was me, a sheepish grin spread across her face, guilt flashing in her eyes. “Come on. We’re going home,” I said sternly. “No!” She shook her head so hard her pigtails flew, clutching her juice glass like a precious treasure. I took a step forward, reaching for the cup. But in a flash, Daisy threw herself between us. “Elara! How dare you!” she shrieked, her voice loud enough to command the entire room’s attention. “Do you have any idea who she is? She’s the Thorne family’s little princess! You’re actually going to lay a hand on her? Are you out of your mind?!” Everyone froze. All eyes snapped back to us. Kevin rushed forward, his face a mask of disgust. “Elara, I haven’t seen you in years, but I never thought you’d stoop this low. I know you’re desperate for money, but this is beyond pathetic!” Before I could even open my mouth to explain, the waiter who had accused me of theft cut in. “You worthless parasite! How dare you cause trouble at a Thorne family event!” He glared at me, then turned to the frantic manager. “Sir, it’s her! Not only did she steal clothes from a guest, but now she’s trying to harm the young miss!” The manager’s face went pale with fury. “Men! Detain this woman immediately!” he roared. “I’ll personally escort her to the police station! And be careful! Don’t frighten the young lady!” Two hulking guards immediately moved toward me, their expressions menacing. Daisy, seizing her moment, crouched down and gave my daughter her most winning smile. “It’s okay, sweetie. Don’t be scared,” she cooed. “Aunty has taken care of the bad woman who was trying to hurt you.” My daughter blinked at her, then walked straight past her, over to me. She wrapped her arms tightly around my leg and looked up with a trembling lip. “Mommy,” she whimpered, “this lady is scary.”

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1 Everyone noticed I wasn’t chasing Asher anymore. Including Asher himself. After class, he blocked my path, his face cold. “About the other night,” he said. “I’m only explaining this once. Believe it or not, it’s up to you.” “Mia was being hassled by some drunk guys. I went to help.” “I was wrong for forgetting to text you.” The “other night” was his birthday. He was in a fight for Mia, while I waited for him at the amusement park. All day. So, he thought I was just sulking about that. I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter.” Then, under his dark, unreadable gaze, I quietly walked past him. He didn’t know that because he’d ditched me again, the system had declared my mission a failure. In one month, I would be “erased” and sent back to my real world. And this body would be given back to its original owner. 2 The third time the park employee told me they were closing, the system in my head sighed. Flora, let’s go home. Asher isn’t coming. He’s with Mia right now. He’s completely forgotten he was supposed to meet you. I stomped my aching feet, picked up the cake box, and turned to leave. “Okay.” All the excitement from that morning had been ground down to nothing. All I felt was a flat, gray calm. Even when the system announced my failure. In one month, you will be in a severe car accident. This is your punishment for failing the mission. While you are in a coma from the injuries, I will send your soul back to the real world. This body will be taken over by the original Flora. After delivering the notice, the system went silent. I pulled out my phone to call a ride-share. The battery icon was red. 1%. The screen went black. And I had no cash for a cab. I finally gave in and started the long walk home. I’d always known failure was a possibility. But in that moment, an overwhelming exhaustion flooded my body, making every step feel impossibly heavy. 3 The walk home took me past the school. It was a Saturday night. The campus should have been empty. But on a bench just outside the gates, I saw two familiar figures. Mia was holding a Hostess Cupcake with a single, unlit match stuck in the frosting. “I’m sorry, Asher…” she was saying, her voice soft. “I only just found out today was your birthday. I didn’t have time to get a cake… I hope you don’t mind this.” The boy across from her had fresh cuts on his cheekbone. A bandage was wrapped around his forehead, mostly hidden by his messy bangs, giving him a lazy, restless look. He didn’t seem to think the cupcake was ridiculous at all. He even took out a Zippo and lit the match. “I don’t.” His voice was as cool as ever. “I think it’s great.” But I could hear a trace of warmth in it. An attempt to soothe her. I couldn’t help but remember last night. I was in the school’s home-ec room, showing him the birthday cake I’d finally perfected after three failed attempts. “What do you think? Is it good?” He was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. His eyes flicked to my hand, which was red and blistering from a burn. His voice was laced with annoyance. “Looking at your hand is enough to make me lose my appetite.” I flushed, trying to hide my hand in my hoodie sleeve. He looked tired. He walked over, grabbed my wrist, and started dragging me to the pharmacy. “What are you hiding it for?” he snapped. “Don’t you have a brain? You burn yourself, you use medicine.” He looked furious, but his hands were incredibly gentle as he applied the burn cream. I’d worked up my courage again. “Asher… do you like the cake, though?” He stared at the blister, his brow furrowed. “It’s ugly as hell.” At the time, the system had comforted me: Don’t listen to him! He’s just mad you got hurt making it. He’s just being difficult. He’s worried about you! My thoughts snapped back to the present. I stood across the street, watching Asher gently reassure Mia that her last-minute cupcake was fine. It hit me, all at once. Even someone as difficult and angsty as Asher… when he actually likes someone, he can be gentle. He can pull in his thorns. He can be careful with her feelings, so she doesn’t feel small. I didn’t know what Asher felt for me. But I knew, with certainty, that it wasn’t love. 4 I turned to leave. “Flora?” Mia spotted me. “What are you doing here?” Asher’s head whipped around. His eyes landed on the cake box in my hand, and he froze. He’d just remembered. Mia saw the cake, too. “Oh! You were looking for Asher, weren’t you?” “I heard you were supposed to celebrate at the amusement park today.” “I’m so sorry, Flora. He had to ditch you because of me.” Her apology was lazy, almost automatic. Like she was already used to Asher dropping everything for her, and she knew I wouldn’t—couldn’t—do anything about it. I’d just sulk for a day, then go right back to chasing him. I shook my head, denying her first question. “I was just passing by.” Asher stared at me, his expression unreadable. Mia just smiled, clearly assuming I was making a pathetic excuse to save face. “Well,” she said, “since you brought the cake anyway, we can celebrate now!” She reached for the box. I stepped back, moving it out of her reach. “It’s spoiled,” I said. “You can’t eat it.” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s… it’s getting late. I’m going home.” “Bye.” Mia looked genuinely surprised. Usually, I’d use any excuse to stick to Asher’s side. Now, I was willingly leaving them alone. I walked a few steps, then remembered. I turned back, embarrassed. “Mia? Can I borrow twenty bucks? My phone’s dead, and I can’t get a cab.” “I’ll take you.” Asher spoke the instant I finished, his voice fast and tight. I acted like I hadn’t heard him. Mia fumbled in her purse. “Oh! Uh, sure…” She handed me a bill. “Thanks. I’ll pay you back on Monday.” I took the money and left. From start to finish, I never looked at Asher once. 5 Maybe because I knew I was going home soon, I dreamed of my old life. I was in a massive college lecture hall, reading a novel and sobbing. My friend passed me a tissue. “I thought you said that was a romance?” “It is,” I hiccupped. “But not for the second male lead, Asher. His life is just… tragic.” “He’s been in love with the main girl, Mia, since high school. But he’s poor and has all this baggage, so he never tells her. He just… protects her from the shadows, even after he becomes this huge CEO.” “And the worst part! He spends all of high school being bullied by the villainess, this rich, evil bitch named Flora!” My friend checked the cover. “Her name’s Flora, your name’s Laura. Kinda close.” I slammed the book down. “Don’t remind me. It’s humiliating.” That night, I woke up in the book. As Flora. The system’s directive was simple: Win Asher’s heart. In this timeline, I was the person he hated most. Difficulty: SSS-level. The system sounded bored as it looked at me, practically vibrating with excitement. This is a hell-mode mission. Why are you so happy? “Because I can change it! I can fix his awful teenage years!” I was so happy I was bouncing. “I’m going to give him everything. He’ll never have to suffer again!” The system had no faith in me. It said it was just counting down the days until it had to send me back. I spent two years trying to break down his walls. I chipped away at his hatred. His “affection” meter got so high that even the system thought I might actually win. But I still failed. In the end, I couldn’t even blame Asher. He was written to love Mia. It was his entire character. Putting her first was his default. It’s a simple truth I only managed to understand once I finally stopped loving him. 6 I’d been out in the wind all night. I woke up the next morning, unsurprisingly, with a nasty cold. After taking some medicine, I got a call from one of Asher’s friends. “Flora! Hey, Asher’s doing a re-do for his birthday today.” “At the amusement park, the one you guys were supposed to go to. You coming?” Asher never cared about birthdays. I knew what this was. It was a peace offering for standing me up. My voice was thick with congestion. “You guys have fun. I’m… I’m going to the library.” The guy’s voice got muffled. “Ash! Flora said she’s not coming.” A few seconds of silence, then I heard Asher’s short, sharp laugh. It was full of scorn. “Whatever. Let her.” I wasn’t surprised. That was the most I could expect from him. It was, for Asher, a major concession. I coughed, a dry, racking sound. The friend was back on the phone. “Whoa, Flora, you sound sick.” “Okay, you know what? Never mind. You just rest up.” Right before he hung up, I heard him ask, “Hey, where’d Ash go?” Someone else answered, “Looked like he was heading to the pharmacy.” “Why? His face is fine, he just changed the bandages…” “Dunno.” 7 I went to the library with Ryan. Ryan. The real Flora’s childhood best friend. And the only person in this world who knew I was a “transmigrator.” He’d figured me out a few weeks after I arrived. He’d just stared at me, his eyes narrowed. “Stop lying,” he’d scoffed. “You can’t fool me. I know Flora better than anyone.” After I told him the truth, he was stunned… for about five minutes. Then he just accepted it. Maybe because I looked like his friend. He’d been good to me these last two years. One of my only real friends here. On the way to the library, I told him the mission had failed. “So, that’s it? You’re leaving in a month?” “Yep. The real Flora gets her body back soon. You’ll have your best friend back.” Ryan’s messenger bag bumped against his back as he walked. He gave a short laugh but didn’t say anything. His eyes looked empty. 8 We stayed until the library closed. Ryan’s house was right next to mine. When we got to his gate, I stopped to say goodnight. But Ryan was just… staring. Motionless. I followed his gaze. To my front porch. Asher was standing there, his black windbreaker making his pale face look even colder. The cuts on his cheek and jaw made him look feral. He was holding a small paper bag from a pharmacy. I turned back to Ryan. “Well, you’re home. I’ll see you tomorrow. ‘Night.” He knew I didn’t want him involved. He just nodded. “Text me if you need anything.” I heard his front door click shut. Asher’s gaze shifted to me as I walked up the path. “Do you need something?” I asked. He ignored me. “You’re sick?” he demanded. “You were laughing with him just fine. You looked pretty healthy to me.” As if on cue, my throat itched. I broke into a fit of coughing. The scorn in his eyes faded. I sniffled. “If that’s all, I’m going inside.” He moved, blocking the door. A wave of cold radiated off him. He must have been standing out here for hours. “You’re sick. What the hell are you doing running around with him?” He shoved the pharmacy bag at me. “And about the other night,” he said, his voice clipped. “I’m only explaining this once. Believe it or not, it’s up to you.” He wasn’t good at apologies. It came out stiff. “Mia was being hassled by some drunk guys. I went to help.” “But I forgot to text you. I made you wait. That was my fault.” I’d never, ever heard him clarify or apologize for anything. I was… shocked. But that’s all. The old fluttery feeling was gone. I pushed the bag back at him. “Thanks, but I can’t take this. I can buy my own medicine.” I looked up at him. “And I accept your apology.” “Is there anything else? I’m really tired.” Asher’s jaw tightened. He just stared at me. He was searching my face, silently asking, What is wrong with you? When he didn’t say anything, I took it as a ‘no.’ “Bye, then.” I sidestepped him and went inside. From my bedroom window, I looked down. He stood frozen on the sidewalk for a long time. Then, as if he finally understood, he let out a bitter laugh. He tossed the bag of medicine into the neighbor’s trash can and walked away. I think he finally got it. I wasn’t sulking. I was done.

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Caleb Astor didn’t like me, his fiancée from out of town. To get me to break off our engagement, he had a scholarship kid from our school pretend to be him. “A new-money girl and a guy who can barely afford lunch,” his friends joked. “It’s a perfect match.” “I’ll bet you a grand she won’t last three days. She’ll call the whole thing off for sure.” The scholarship kid was tall and quiet, with a kind of beautiful, broken-down stillness to him. I actually believed the story—that the Astors had gone bankrupt and he was starving. I could almost hear my dad’s voice in my ear: “Sweetheart, so what if they’re broke? We’re not snobs who chase money. We’ve got enough to take care of him.” So, when he was hungry, I brought him food. When he worked his part-time jobs, I played bodyguard. When his mom was hospitalized, I paid the bills. I took very good care of my dirt-poor fiancé. Until one day, a handsome, preppy-looking guy snatched the breakfast I had carefully made. I was about to blow a fuse when he looked at me, a frustrated pout on his face. “Maya, open your eyes. I’m your fiancé.” 1 My dad told me I had a fiancé in the city. To give me a choice in the matter, and to make sure I got into a good college, he enrolled me at Northwood High for my junior year, right in Caleb Astor’s class. I’d heard the Astors were practically royalty in Cedar Creek, old money with deep roots. My dad even made me pack a bunch of nice things to make a good impression. But when I got off the train, no one from the Astor family was there to pick me up. I was a little annoyed, but all of that vanished the second I got to school and saw him—thin, dressed in a faded t-shirt that had been washed a hundred times. A friendly student I’d met on the way to the office had looked at the photo on my phone and offered to show me the way. “Room 203? You’re looking for Caleb Astor? Oh, yeah, I know him. C’mon, I’ll show you.” He pointed through the classroom window. I followed his finger. There, sitting by the window, was a boy with a ramrod-straight back, looking clean but worn. Afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting stripes across his profile. A stray breeze ruffled his hair, revealing a sharp brow bone and a smooth forehead. I glanced down at the photo, then back at him. The friendly student’s voice echoed in my head, filled with pity. “You didn’t know? The Astor family went bankrupt a couple of years back. Caleb’s on financial aid now. He works a bunch of jobs after school. Sometimes, he can’t even afford to buy lunch.” Our families hadn’t been in close contact, and I guess a proud family like the Astors wouldn’t exactly advertise their bankruptcy to my dad out in Austin. I let out a soft “Oh,” and nodded like a bobblehead, promising the student I wouldn’t spread it around. “This is our new transfer student, Maya Lin. Let’s give her a warm welcome,” the teacher announced, pointing to an empty desk in the back. “You can sit there for now.” I looked up. It was right next to Caleb. From the moment I walked in until I sat down, he never once looked up. He was completely focused on whatever he was writing. I had to squeeze behind his chair to get to my seat. As I passed, my backpack snagged on something. I gave it a gentle tug, and an old metal thermos clattered out of his desk. It rolled on the floor with a loud clang, and the lid popped off. Half of a dry-looking sandwich tumbled out, picking up a layer of dust. I saw his shoulders tense, just for a second. His knuckles went white around his pen, but he didn’t turn around. A few muffled snickers came from nearby. I saw a couple of guys whispering behind his back, their eyes full of scorn. So, it was true. He was really struggling. The vibrant, confident boy in the old photos was gone, replaced by someone who couldn’t even afford a decent meal. I bit my lip, clutched my backpack, and sat down. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean to.” He still didn’t look at me. He just picked up the dusty sandwich half, put it back in the thermos, and shoved the whole thing back into his desk. “I’m Maya Lin,” I tried again, leaning closer. “Do you remember me?” When he was six, we met once. Like my mom, I’ve always been a sucker for a pretty face, and little Caleb was adorable. I followed him around everywhere. Of course, that was before I convinced him to help me “catch” a rooster at a petting zoo and he got pecked for his trouble. He didn’t speak to me for the rest of the day. Good to know he grew up just as handsome. My sudden closeness seemed to startle him. He leaned back slightly, his eyes finally lifting to meet mine. They were beautiful, like polished obsidian. His lashes were so long and dark that when he looked down, they veiled his gaze, making him seem less distant. But after the initial surprise, he went back to being silent. I scratched my head. “I’m your fiancée, remember?” He was taking a sip of water and choked, coughing into his fist. I reflexively patted his back. When he recovered, he gave me a strange look, a faint blush creeping up his neck. Maybe he didn’t remember. Or maybe losing everything had changed him. Whatever it was, I got the message. We’d just start over. I smiled and held out my hand. “Well, we’re desk partners now. I’m Maya. It’s nice to meet you. Hey, could I ask you for a favor?” I expected him to ignore me again, but this time he spoke, his voice cool and distant. “I don’t have time.” 2 Meanwhile, that “friendly” student who showed me the way? The second I was in the classroom, he ducked into the stairwell where a few other preppy kids were waiting. Gavin rushed over to the handsome boy at the center of the group. “Cal, it’s done. That girl’s not the brightest bulb.” “She believed every word. I pointed out Liam Jiang, told her the Astors were broke and that you couldn’t afford lunch. Her jaw just about hit the floor.” “She even saw his sad little sandwich. Who in their right mind would want to stick around for that kind of charity case?” “I bet you a thousand bucks, in three days, she’ll be begging her dad to call the whole thing off.” Caleb Astor looked bored, but he double-checked. “You’re sure? Three days? She really bought it?” “I saw the picture she had. It was just a side profile of you. Honestly, it could’ve been Liam. Close enough.” “I even told her that after the ‘bankruptcy,’ you changed your name to avoid creditors. She totally fell for it.” “And if you ever do run into her, just say you have the same name. Easy. She won’t be able to latch onto you.” Caleb leaned back against the wall, a smirk playing on his lips. “A new-money girl from out of town. Who even does arranged marriages anymore? It’s not the dark ages.” “Seriously,” another friend chimed in. “The Astors have a hundred-year legacy. You should be marrying someone from a family like the Prescotts, like your brother did. Not some… country bumpkin.” “Tell me about it. My mom’s been on a hunger strike trying to get my dad to cancel this thing.” “But you know my dad. He does whatever Grandpa says, and Grandpa is all about ‘honor’ and ‘keeping promises’ to his old army buddies.” “By the way,” Gavin said, a little hesitantly, “that fiancée of yours…” Caleb shot him a cold look. Gavin corrected himself. “That girl… she’s actually pretty hot. I snapped a pic. You wanna see? Maybe you’ll change your mind.” Caleb scoffed. “Are you kidding? You think I have a thing for girls from the sticks?” Gavin mumbled to himself, “For real, though. She’s way prettier than your girl, the ‘queen bee’ of Northwood.” 3 I didn’t know any of that. At that moment, my world revolved around Liam Jiang. That’s the name he told me, and that’s what everyone called him. The Astors really must have gone to great lengths to hide, even changing his name. I spent the whole day trying to talk to him. He rarely answered, sometimes pretending not to hear me at all. But I’m a chatterbox, just like my dad. My dad can talk to a herd of cattle for an entire day and not get bored. Plus, I’ve never been shy. I can basically have a full conversation by myself. “So, what’s good to eat around here? It’s my first day, I’m totally lost.” “Do you live on campus or off?” “Hey, why is this math formula different from what I learned back home?” “Where’s the water fountain? I’m dying of thirst.” Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. “Just try to pay attention in class,” he muttered. After a beat, he added, “The fountain is outside room 207. You can go after the bell.” By the time the bell rang, I’d forgotten all about being thirsty. I immediately called my dad and told him about the Astor family going bankrupt. He sounded surprised. “What? Really? Well, shoot. It’s okay, sweetheart. If they’re broke, they’re broke. We’re not the kind of people who kick someone when they’re down. This is when you see a person’s true character. If you really like the kid, what’s the big deal? We’ll support him.” I nodded. It wasn’t that I liked him liked him. Not yet. It was just that… Liam seemed so pathetic. I don’t have a lot of things, but I do have a lot of money. And right now, money was what he needed most. Our family got rich the year I was born. My dad saw a tiny article about real estate reform in the corner of a newspaper and immediately bought up an old, abandoned grain depot on the edge of town. Later, when the city expanded, he cashed in big. Then came the tech boom. He didn’t understand any of it, but he understood how to invest in people who did. We were “new money,” for sure. Compared to a family with generations of wealth like the Astors, I was definitely what people online would call nouveau riche. But being new money has its perks. For one, my dad hands me credit cards like they’re playing cards, without blinking an eye. I could probably buy the diner where Liam works his night shift, but I didn’t want to be that obvious. It took me a few days of pestering, but I finally figured out where he worked. Liam at his night job was different from the Liam at school. His clothes were more casual, his hair a little messy. I had followed him there, so when he saw me, his brow furrowed into a deep V. “What are you doing in a place like this?” He pulled me into the stairwell. “You shouldn’t be here.” Well, at least he was talking more now. I pulled a sandwich out of my backpack and stuffed it into his hand. Liam froze, his hand hovering in mid-air. “Eat it,” I urged. “I, uh, bought too many. The guy at the deli said it’ll be stale by tomorrow, and I’m full. It’s a waste to throw it out, so you can have it.” I’d done my research. Every day after school, Liam worked at least three jobs. First, handing out flyers downtown. Then, he’d run his own little noodle cart. After closing that down, he’d come here, to the diner, to work the late shift as a busboy. A bowl of noodles from his cart sold for seven bucks, but he never ate one himself. He’d either make do with the sad sandwich from the morning or wait for leftover food from the diner’s kitchen. I’d gotten friendly with my classmates over the last few days. A few of them had warned me not to get too close to Liam. They said he was weird, gloomy, and never talked to anyone. They told me his mom had kidney failure and he had a disabled younger sister. Wait, Caleb Astor’s mom was that sick? I didn’t want to ask Liam about it. I was afraid it would just make him feel worse. “Why are you doing this?” Liam asked, his gaze fixed on the sandwich in his hand. I waved my hand dismissively, my eyes wide. “What do you mean ‘why’? You’re my desk partner. And you helped me with that math problem today.” I nodded firmly. “That’s right! My dad says if I don’t get into a good college, he’s gonna break my legs. So, consider this a bribe, Liam. That sandwich isn’t free. You have to help me with my homework again tomorrow.” I had peeked at his test scores. The guy got a 1590 on his SATs. He was a genius. He pressed his lips together. “Aren’t you… grossed out by me?” My eyes went wide again. “Why would I be?” I leaned in and took a dramatic sniff around him. “Don’t you know how clean your mom washes your clothes? I sit next to you all day, and the wind blows this nice, fresh laundry soap smell over to me. Look at my shirt…” I held up my own slightly grubby sleeve. “I’m way dirtier than you. Are you grossed out by me?” In the dim light of the stairwell, Liam looked up at me, his eyes shining like stars. He clutched the sandwich and slowly shook his head. I lifted my chin smugly. “That’s more like it. I’m your fi—” I caught myself just in time. 4 Liam got off work ten minutes early and insisted on walking me home. He also tucked a notebook full of his study notes into my backpack. My dad had bought me a house in The Pines, an exclusive gated community, before I even moved here. Ever since my mom passed, he’s been super protective. He wanted to quit his job and move with me, but I managed to talk him out of it. Instead, he hired a lovely lady to be my live-in chaperone and cook. As we got close to the entrance of The Pines, I quickly steered Liam down a different street, one with more modest houses. His family was broke; seeing all these mansions would probably just make him feel bad. “This is me!” I said, pointing randomly at a house. “You should get home, too.” Liam looked up at the house, then suddenly reached out and gently patted the top of my head. “See you tomorrow, desk partner.” If any of our classmates had been there, they would have seen a different Liam. It was like a black-and-white photo that had suddenly been colorized. The heavy, world-weary look was gone, replaced by something that looked a little like… hope. As soon as he was gone, I sprinted back towards The Pines. I was running fast, and as I rounded the corner to my street, I nearly crashed into someone. The person reacted instantly, shooting out an arm to steady me. I looked up and found myself staring into a handsome, finely chiseled face. Huh. I frowned. He looked familiar. Kind of like Liam, actually. But why was he just staring at me like that? I waved a hand in front of his face. “Hello? I’m fine. You can let go now.” He blinked, then quickly dropped his hand. “Sorry.” I shrugged it off, nodded, and started to walk away. “Hey, do you go to Northwood—” he called out from behind me. But just then, my little golden retriever, Sunny, came bounding out to greet me. “Sunny!” I cried, running to him and scooping him up, completely forgetting about the boy behind me. Caleb Astor stood frozen, watching the girl disappear around the corner, happily cuddling her dog. By the time he snapped out of it and ran after her, she was gone. He pulled out his phone and typed in his group chat: Any of you guys know a girl at our school with long hair, super tall, big round eyes, and a tiny mole by her nose? Ever seen her? Someone replied: What’s up, Cal? Meet a new girl? Love at first sight? Another message popped up: No way, Caleb’s standards are way too high. He wouldn’t even look at the homecoming queen. Caleb propped his feet up on the coffee table, staring at the words “love at first sight” for a long moment. Cut the crap, he typed back. Just tell me if you’ve seen her or not. Long hair, check. Big eyes, check. Tall, check. But that specific combo? Never seen her. Don’t worry, man. We’ll be on the lookout tomorrow. If she goes to Northwood, she can’t hide. Caleb typed back lazily: Find her, and there’s a big reward in it for you. Caleb Astor came from a wealthy family and was blessed with good looks. He had a natural confidence that told him anything he wanted, he could get.

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My neighbor pounded on my door in the middle of the night, a deep gash on her hand. I grabbed my first-aid kit and patched her up. The next day, she reported me to the state medical board for practicing medicine illegally. I didn’t argue. I quietly accepted my suspension from the hospital and waited for the investigation. In the community group chat, she gloated: “That’ll teach these little nurses a lesson!” Five days later, her elderly father choked on a piece of food and stopped breathing. She hammered on my door, screaming for help. I stood on the other side and said calmly, “I’m on suspension. I can’t risk practicing medicine illegally. You’ll have to wait for the paramedics.” 1 It was one in the morning when the frantic ringing of my doorbell jolted me awake. “Sarah! Sarah! Open the door! Help me!” It was my neighbor, Linda. Her voice was a terrified shriek, laced with tears. I threw on a robe and rushed to the door. The moment I opened it, the thick, coppery smell of blood hit me, making me gag. Linda stood there, her face ghostly white. Her left hand was crudely wrapped in a kitchen towel, but blood had already soaked through, dripping between her fingers onto the floor. “I was cutting fruit… I think I hit an artery! Sarah, you’re a nurse, right?” “Please, help me! I’m getting so dizzy!” She swayed on her feet, about to collapse. I didn’t have time to think. I pulled her inside. “Don’t panic. I’ll take care of it.” I sat her down on the sofa, ran to my bedroom, and grabbed the professional-grade first-aid kit I always kept on hand. As a surgical nurse at City General, this kind of trauma was second nature to me. “Hold still. This is going to sting.” I carefully cut away the blood-caked towel. A deep wound, almost down to the bone, gaped at the base of her thumb. It was bleeding profusely, but she’d missed the main artery, only severing a small vein. I pulled on a pair of sterile gloves and began to clean the wound with an iodine swab. “Ah! That hurts! Be gentle!” Linda screamed. “There are shards of glass in the wound. They have to come out, or it will get infected,” I explained, my hands never wavering. Decontaminate, disinfect, apply ointment, pack with gauze, and secure with a pressure bandage. The whole process took less than ten minutes. The bleeding stopped completely. A fine sheen of sweat had broken out on my forehead. “There. It’s not too deep, and you didn’t damage any tendons.” “Keep it dry for a few days and go to a clinic to get the dressing changed regularly.” I took a fresh sterile gauze pad and a roll of bandages from my kit and handed them to her. “Take these for your dressing change tomorrow.” Linda stared at her neatly bandaged hand and let out a long, shuddering breath. “Sarah, thank you so much! You’re my savior!” “I have to take you out to dinner to thank you properly!” She grabbed my hand, gushing with gratitude. I just waved it off, feeling a deep exhaustion settle over me. “It’s nothing. We’re neighbors. Just go get some rest.” After she left, I looked at the puddle of blood on my living room floor and the stained sofa cushion and sighed. I started cleaning. I didn’t get back to sleep until three. The next morning, I went to work with dark circles under my eyes. That afternoon, while I was preparing medications, the head nurse called me into her office. “Sarah, did you treat a neighbor’s wound at your home last night?” “Yes. She was bleeding heavily, it was an emergency,” I answered truthfully. The head nurse slapped a file down on her desk. “Your neighbor, Linda, filed a formal complaint with the medical board this morning.” “She’s accusing you of practicing medicine illegally without a license in an uncertified location. She claims your improper procedure caused a severe infection.” “She’s demanding you pay for her medical bills, lost wages, and pain and suffering. A total of fifty thousand dollars.” Fifty thousand dollars. My mind went blank. A chill spread through my limbs. The same woman who had called me her “savior” just hours before had turned around and stabbed me in the back. “She also said…” the head nurse paused, “that the medical supplies you used were expired, and that your hostile attitude caused her extreme psychological trauma.” Rage surged through me, so hot it felt like my blood was boiling. A fire lodged in my throat, and I couldn’t speak. Every single item in my kit was from the latest batch, purchased through the hospital’s internal supply channels each month. There was no way anything was expired. I looked at my boss, my voice raspy. “That’s a complete lie.” “Whether it’s a lie or not isn’t the point right now,” she sighed. “The medical board has accepted the case. The investigators will be here tomorrow. Sarah, according to protocol, you’re suspended, effective immediately, pending a full investigation.” 2 I walked out of the head nurse’s office in a daze. My colleagues looked at me with a mixture of pity and curiosity, but mostly, they just looked away. “Illegal practice.” For anyone in the medical field, it’s a career-destroying accusation. I could hear the whispers from the corner of the nurses’ station. “See? No good deed goes unpunished. She stuck her neck out and got it chopped off. Serves her right.” “Fifty grand? That neighbor is ruthless. It’s a straight-up shakedown.” “You never know, though. How do we know her supplies were clean? What if she really did mess it up?” The words were like needles, piercing my heart. I went home, and before I could even catch my breath, my phone started buzzing violently. The community group chat. It was Linda. She had tagged me in a post to all three hundred members. She’d attached a photo. Her hand was re-bandaged, but she’d deliberately loosened the wrapping to make it look sloppy. The skin around it had been photoshopped to a raw, swollen red, making it look “severe.” I could tell instantly the “redness” was just smeared-on lipstick. Immediately, a woman named Janet chimed in. She was the head of the community association, a notorious gossip who loved to stir up trouble. What’s going on here, Sarah? The chat exploded. Neighbors who knew nothing about the situation piled on. “That’s horrible! How could you betray someone’s trust like that?” “Exactly! Don’t offer to help if you don’t know what you’re doing!” “What a terrible nurse. Using expired supplies just to save a few bucks?” I stared at the cascade of false accusations. I wanted to fight back, to post all my evidence and tear their lies apart. But as I typed the first word, I stopped. I suddenly understood. Arguing with a mob fueled by outrage was pointless. They didn’t want the truth. They wanted a spectacle. I deleted my message and left the group chat. I took a deep breath, walked into my bedroom, and locked the very first-aid kit that had saved Linda’s life deep inside a closet. Then, I sent a text to my head nurse. I accept the hospital’s decision. I will cooperate fully with the investigation. To Linda and Janet, my silence was an admission of guilt. It was weakness. Their performance became even more theatrical. BREAKING NEWS! That nurse Sarah has been suspended! See? Justice will be served! Thank you, Janet, for standing up for me! And thanks to all my wonderful neighbors for your support! That’s how you deal with these nurses! They think a white uniform makes them angels? Look, she’s too scared to say a word. She knows she’s guilty! This isn’t over until I get my $50,000. Not a penny less! She’s going to pay! I could almost see Linda’s gloating face through the screen. I smiled. It was a quiet, cold smile that I could feel on my own lips. 3 The days of my suspension were harder than I could have imagined. I couldn’t go to the hospital, couldn’t put on my scrubs. I felt like the core of my identity had been ripped out. I replayed every detail of that night in my head, confirming again and again that my procedure had been flawless. I photographed the lot numbers, manufacturing dates, and expiration dates of every single item in my first-aid kit. I even managed to pull the security footage from my apartment hallway. The video was grainy, but it clearly showed the stark contrast between Linda’s panicked arrival and her calm departure. With all my evidence prepared, I waited for the investigators’ summons. Meanwhile, Linda and Janet’s show continued in the new HOA group chat they’d created. Every day, Linda posted an “update” on her condition. One day, the wound was supposedly filled with pus. The next, she couldn’t lift her arm. The day after, a doctor had supposedly told her she might have permanent nerve damage. She painted herself as a tragic victim, brutalized by a negligent nurse. Janet, for her part, fanned the flames. She even posted a notice on the community bulletin board titled: “Official Condemnation of Resident Sarah Jenkins of Unit 1502 for Endangering the Safety of Her Neighbors.” It was printed on red paper in stark black ink, like a public shaming notice, nailing me to a pillar of disgrace. Every time I went out to take out the trash, I could feel the other residents’ eyes on me. Contempt, avoidance, smug satisfaction. Once, in the elevator, an older woman saw me, immediately grabbed her grandson, and pulled him into the corner, muttering under her breath. “Stay away from her, sweetie. Her hands are dirty, and so is her heart. You might catch it.” An invisible hand squeezed my heart, so tight I couldn’t breathe. I was the one who had saved a life. Why was I the one being publicly crucified? Five days later, the call from the investigation team finally came. I went to the hospital with all my evidence. Facing the two grim-faced investigators, I felt no fear. I presented my evidence, one piece at a time: the photos of the supply lot numbers, the clear expiration date records, the hallway security footage, and even photos showing how I had properly disposed of the medical waste. I calmly recounted every step of the procedure, from cleaning the wound to bandaging it, along with the medical justification for each action. “Based on my assessment of the wound and the sterile procedure I followed,” I concluded, “the probability of infection occurring during my treatment is less than one in a thousand.” “If Ms. Linda’s claim of a ‘severe infection’ is true, there are only two possibilities.” “First, after receiving my emergency aid, she removed the bandage herself, causing a secondary contamination of the wound.” “Second, she deliberately faked an infection in order to extort money from me.” My words shifted the atmosphere in the room. The investigators exchanged a look. When the interview was over, I walked out of the hospital into the blinding sunlight, a massive weight lifted from my shoulders. I trusted the facts to clear my name. When I got home, my phone showed that Linda was still performing in the group chat. Today happened to be a holiday, the Festival of Lights. Linda had posted a photo of a lavish dinner, with a bowl of steaming sweet rice balls in the foreground. Happy festival, everyone! Once I get my settlement money, I’m treating all my supportive neighbors to a huge feast! @Linda, congrats in advance! You can’t go easy on people with no medical ethics! A chorus of agreement followed, all of them praising her “brave” fight for “justice.” I looked at the screen, at all those hypocritical faces, and turned off my phone. I boiled a bowl of frozen dumplings and ate them alone, in silence. Outside my window were the lights of a thousand homes and the occasional firework. My own world felt cold and empty. Just as I was finishing my meal… BANG! BANG! BANG! A pounding on my door, even more frantic than before. It was followed by Linda’s voice, now a distorted, desperate shriek of pure terror. “Sarah! Open the door! Please, open the door!” “Help me! My dad… My dad is dying!” 4 Through the peephole, I saw a face twisted in absolute horror. Linda, her hair a wild mess, was throwing her body against my door, creating a series of dull, heavy thuds. “Sarah! I’m begging you! Please come out and look!” “My dad choked on a sweet rice ball! He can’t breathe!” Her voice was raw, every word trembling. I didn’t move. I didn’t make a sound. THUD! Linda started kicking the door, making the heavy steel frame vibrate. “Sarah, are you even human?! You’re a nurse!” “If you let him die, you’re a murderer!” She started screaming curses, spewing every vile word she could think of. I could picture the scene on the other side of the door. A life, slipping away with every second. My hand clenched into a fist, my nails digging deep into my palm. As a nurse, saving lives is my instinct. My brain was racing, every step of the Heimlich maneuver flashing through my mind. If I opened the door, it would take me maybe thirty seconds to save a man’s life. But… I remembered her gloating in the group chat. “That’ll teach these little nurses a lesson!” I remembered the notice on the bulletin board, its angry red paper burning in my mind’s eye. I remembered the old woman in the elevator, her look of disgust. I remembered the lonely, sleepless nights of my suspension, the feeling of being utterly alone and betrayed. Why? Why should I? Why did they get to hurt me, to trample on my profession and my dignity, and then demand my help as if it were their right? I slowly walked to the door and leaned against the cold, hard steel. Outside, Linda’s screams and curses continued, now mixed with desperate pleas. “Sarah, please, I was wrong! I’m not human, I’m an animal!” “I shouldn’t have reported you! I don’t want the fifty thousand! I’ll get on my knees for you!” “Please, just save my dad!” THUD! THUD! THUD! She’d given up kicking and was now banging her head against the door. I took one final, deep breath, suppressing the last flicker of a nurse’s impulse. Then, through the door, in a voice that was perfectly calm and clear, I said: “Linda, I’m very sorry.” “I am currently on suspension. I am the one you reported for practicing medicine illegally.” “I can’t break the law. You’ll have to wait for the paramedics.”

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The transmigrator who possessed my body for five years finally got bored. She left me with a ruined, weakened body and a shattered family. I cried, throwing my arms around my husband, thinking I was finally home. But he pushed me away. “Where is she?” I froze. A second later, glowing text—like comments on a livestream—scrolled past my eyes: 【Ugh, so annoying. Now the ‘Villainess’ is going to pull that ‘abused wife’ crap, where she leaves heartbroken just to make them all regret it!】 【But she’s the one who came back and stole the Female Lead’s husband and son! What’s she even complaining about?!】 【THIS. I hate this ‘playing the victim’ girl-on-girl drama! The cat-and-mouse game between the real Heroine and the Male Lead was so good. Who wants to watch this green-tea snake?】 I stared at the comments. Then I backhanded my husband across the face. “So you knew. You knew that thing… wasn’t me.” Cole was stunned. The floating comments were just strings of question marks: 【Wait, that’s not right. The Villainess is supposed to cry and wail about how this body was hers first, and ‘why did you fall in love with her soul?’】 【Why? Because our Heroine is a million times more charming, that’s why! If I were a guy, I’d choose the Heroine too.】 【I get it. This is a new tactic. She’s playing hard to get. Just watch, if he actually gets mad, she’ll go right back to the ‘abused wife’ script.】 Mad? I stared coldly at Cole. His stunned expression slowly morphed into something else. “Elara?” “Since you know who I am,” I said, my voice like ice, “you will never say that woman’s name in front of me again.” I shoved past him and went to my room. The comments exploded: 【Who the hell does she think she is! The one he’s been obsessed with for five years is our Heroine!】 【Exactly! She’s the one who hijacked the situation, and now she’s the one making demands?】 【Just wait. This kind of manipulative snake will get what’s coming to her. The Heroine and Male Lead will have their happy ending!】 Get what’s coming to me? I let out a cold laugh. She possessed my body for five years, drove it into the ground, and I’m the one who needs to be “cleared”? We’ll see who clears whom. That transmigrator had ruined me. My body, which I’d kept in peak condition, was now a weak, frail thing. I got winded just walking up the stairs. I stormed into the bedroom. I grabbed the mountains of cutesy, pink makeup cases and tacky stuffed animals and hurled them down the stairs. I ripped the frilly, floral wallpaper from the walls. I called an interior designer. “I’m sending you the original blueprints for my master suite. I want it back to exactly how it was.” Then, I opened the closet to find something to wear. It was a sea of pastel, ruffled “princess” dresses. I finally found one simple, blue silk nightgown. The moment I touched it, the comments flared. 【Here it is! I knew this snake was faking! How else would she ‘coincidentally’ pick the exact nightgown the Male Lead had custom-made for our Heroine?】 【I can’t take it, I’m spoiling it: The script says she wears this, he yells at her, and she acts all victimized.】 【Then, because she’s incapable of just talking, it causes more drama, and she throws down divorce papers and leaves, triggering the ‘chase her to the ends of the earth’ plot.】 【Seriously, lady? Who wants to watch a homewrecker get her ‘groveling chase’ plot? It’s just playing the victim to manipulate him.】 【The commenter above gets it! She only acts ‘hurt’ so he’ll regret it, chase her, and finally give her his whole heart.】 【She’s nothing like our Heroine. Our girl is spontaneous, fun, says what she means! That’s the kind of woman a man obsesses over!】 【It doesn’t matter. In the end, Elara is just the evil side-character. Let her have her moment. She’ll be dealt with soon enough.】 My hand tightened on the silk. So that was my “plot.” I put the nightgown on without a second thought. 【SEE! I TOLD YOU! She knows it was made for the Heroine! She’s wearing it just to provoke him!】 【I see you, girl. I’m a snake too, I get it.】 “Elara.” Cole’s voice came from the doorway. I turned. He was frowning at the nightgown. “This dress…” “You have a problem with it?” I asked, my voice flat. He hesitated. I ripped the giant, fluffy bow off the neckline and threw it in the trash. “This is ridiculous. It’s a nightgown, not a costume! Can’t you buy anything normal?” 【AAAAH I’M SO MAD! This ‘not-like-other-girls’ snake! That was the Heroine’s favorite bow!】 “Now that I’m back, everything in this house is going back to my standards. I want all her things out of my house within 24 hours. Or I’ll do it myself.” He just stood there, watching me. I stepped closer. “What’s wrong? You upset to see me wearing her clothes?” “It’s beautiful.” He smiled, a small, soft smile. I froze. Cole was looking at me with that old, familiar tenderness. The way he looked at me before. “I was just going to say,” he said, “it’s beautiful on you.” I was completely blindsided. The comments were just as shocked: 【COLE, WAKE UP! SHE’S THE VILLAIN! YOUR TRUE LOVE IS THE HEROINE!】 【You’re a CHEATER! The Heroine hasn’t even been gone 24 hours and you’re already moving on?! I’m out!】 【Ummm… guys? Isn’t it possible he was… her husband first?】 That last comment was immediately buried in an avalanche of hate: 【Don’t blame him! This Villainess is just a master manipulator! She’s playing hard to get, but everything she’s doing is just a game to steal him!】 【THIS. ‘Not-like-other-girls’ or ‘green tea,’ it’s all just a type of snake!】 “If you don’t like these,” Cole said gently, taking my hand. “I’ll have new ones made. I meant no offense, wife.” Wife… How long had it been since I’d heard him say that? The last time… I was bleeding out on the asphalt after pushing him and our son out of the way of that car. He’d held me, screaming it… “Wife! Elara!” I thought I’d never see them again. But then… I woke up, trapped in my own mind, as another soul opened my eyes and called my husband… “honey.” “Who said you could wear my mommy’s dress!” A small body slammed into my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. I staggered, catching myself on the bedpost. My son, Leo, was glaring at me, his face red with anger. “Daddy had that made for Mommy! Take it off! You’re a bad lady!” I frowned. “Leo, it’s me. I’m Mommy. I’m back.” “I know! But you’re not her! My real mommy came back five years ago! You can’t wear her clothes! Take it off!” He lunged and tore at the silk, trying to rip the gown from my body. My voice was shaking. “Leo, don’t you remember? Don’t you remember how I used to take care of you?” “Pfft!” He put his hands on his hips. “She’s the one who made me better! She made me run around and get her packages and work out! You’re just a lazy fake who reaped the benefits!” The comments were hysterical: 【Aww, Leo is so cute! He can already spot a snake! He’s a genius!】 【You tell her, Leo! Put that fake mommy in her place!】 【It’s true! If the Heroine hadn’t made him run errands all the time, he’d still be sick! This villain has some nerve trying to take credit!】 I closed my eyes. She had made him better? Leo was born frail, constantly sick. I was the one who spent years hunting down specialists. I was the one who spent ten hours a day brewing that bitter, complex medicinal formula. He was too sick for school, so I homeschooled him. We were finally, finally healthy, a normal family, when that car hit me. That transmigrator didn’t “train” him; she abused the healthy body I had painstakingly built. And for him to know this… for him to say this… there was only one way… I turned to Cole. CRACK. I slapped him again, harder this time. “Is this what you’ve been teaching our son?” Cole stared at me, holding his cheek. Leo is ten. A child’s behavior is a reflection of his parents. If Cole didn’t respect me, Leo never would. “You bad lady! Don’t hit my dad!” Leo lunged at me, but Cole grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. “Leo. Apologize to your mother. Now.” Seeing his father’s serious expression, Leo’s lip trembled. “Why? She’s the one who stole Mommy’s body…” “Apologize!” Cole’s voice had the same authority that silenced boardrooms. Leo’s face crumpled, but he just glared at me. “S-sorry…” I turned and walked away. The child could be dealt with later. This house was contaminated. I was halfway down the stairs when I felt a violent, two-handed shove from behind. My body, weakened from five years of atrophy, had no balance. I tumbled, head-first, down the entire flight of stairs. My whole body exploded in pain. I looked up. Leo was at the top, grinning, his hands on his hips. He stuck his tongue out. “Hah! That’s what you get for wearing Mommy’s dress! And for making Dad yell at me! Serves you right!” The comments were cheering him on:

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Other families have sister drama—the kind of love-hate dynamic that fuels reality TV. My sister and I? Pure, unadulterated hate. I despised her for always being the golden child, acing every test, every competition, leaving me in her dust. She, in turn, loathed me for being the wild one, the troublemaker, yet always seeming to be our parents’ favorite. How deep did the hate run? We wished each other dead. When she got into an Ivy League university, my parents poured all their savings into my art school application. That day, she actually held a kitchen knife to my throat. I shoved her back, hard, and she ended up in the ER. Afterward, she vanished from the hospital, never looking back. Years later, when my marriage imploded and domestic violence landed me in the hospital, I found my attending physician was her. 1 “Skylar Hayes, are you trying to ruin my life?!” Autumn Hayes burst into my room, a gleaming chef’s knife clutched in her hand. Mom and Dad stumbled in behind her, their faces etched with panic. Autumn clamped my arm, pressing the blade against my throat. I felt the cold, sharp edge pierce my skin, a thin line of pain blooming there. Her hand trembled as she screamed, a raw, desperate sound, at Mom and Dad across the room. “How dare you tell me I can’t go to school, giving all our money to her?!” Dad’s brow furrowed, his voice rising to match hers. “Nobody said you can’t go to school! You’re smart, you can retake the SATs, apply again next year! Are you even listening to yourself? Have you no respect for your father?” Mom frantically tried to pull Dad’s arm away, tears streaming down her face. “Autumn, honey, how can you call your sister useless? Please, Mom’s begging you, Skylar’s art school spot… it took so many favors to get. If she doesn’t go now, Professor Davies’ class will be full.” Professor Davies. The renowned art professor at the Mather Institute of Art. A guaranteed path to a prestigious career, if you got into his class. “Autumn, please be understanding this once. Let your sister use the money for tuition. Just two years, sweetheart. We promise, we’ll save up enough for your university tuition, okay? Just two more years.” The warm trickle of blood on my neck intensified, the pain sharper. Autumn was serious this time. She tugged me towards the window, her voice chilling. “What else would you call her? Useless?” She let out a bitter laugh, her gaze fixed on our parents. “Why do I always have to give in to her? Why, since we were kids, has she always been your priority?” “When I was little, I could’ve skipped a grade, but you insisted Skylar was too wild to be alone in kindergarten. So I stayed with her for another two years because she ‘couldn’t keep up’ in first grade.” “You always made us go to the same schools, the same classes, saying I could tutor her. But I’m two years older! If it wasn’t for her, I’d be in college already!” “Every time Skylar struggled, you made me hold back with her. Haven’t I been ‘understanding’ enough?” “Now she’s failing out and needs to go to art school, and I have to sacrifice another year for her?” “What are you complaining about with your sister?!” Dad roared, slamming something onto the floor. “I’ve given you everything, spoiled you both, and this is the selfish, ungrateful daughter you’ve become?” That ignited Autumn completely. All her pent-up resentment poured out. “You never think you’re wrong. You never see how unbelievably biased you are!” Dad pointed at her, his face a mask of disbelief and fury. “Who gave you the right to accuse your parents of wrongdoing?” 2 Autumn ignored Dad, completely lost in her tirade. “Skylar fought, she cheated, she skipped class—how many messes did you clean up for her? I worked myself to the bone just to get an ounce of the attention you showered on her, and still, everything revolved around her.” “Why? Just because I’m the older sister? Am I supposed to be her lifelong blood bank, dragged down by her failures?” The throbbing in my neck was unbearable, and her words ignited my own fuse. “You think I want you as a sister?!” Years of playground brawls had taught me a thing or two. I broke free from her grip, shoving her hard. She stumbled backward, hitting the corner of my dresser with a sickening thud. A faint thwack. My vision was red with rage; I barely registered her trembling form. “You were always perfect, always the best. I could never measure up.” She lay curled on the floor, her face ashen. Dad, still fuming, stood with his hands on his hips. Mom started to move towards Autumn, but Dad held her back. “Don’t touch her! Let her cool off. Holding a knife to her own sister? Unbelievable! What a heartless child I’ve raised!” Tears welled in my eyes, my voice shaky. “Every teacher we ever had said, ‘How could this straight-A student have such a dim-witted sister?’ Every family gathering, relatives would say, ‘Autumn’s the one to count on.’ And me? Everyone just shook their heads.” “They’d all point at me and say, ‘You two are sisters, but one’s an angel, the other’s a devil.’ Autumn, you’re smart, you’re brilliant, but why does everyone have to step all over me to praise you?” “And you call me a parasite? You think I wanted you as a sister?” I stepped over her, pushed past Mom and Dad, and flung open my bedroom door. This house was suffocating. I needed to get out. Professor Davies’ class, tuition money, who cared? Before I even reached the front door, I heard Mom’s horrified scream. “Blood! Oh my God, Miles, Autumn’s bleeding from the back of her head!” I spun around to see Dad scoop Autumn into his arms, rushing towards the exit. Autumn was taken to the hospital. Several stitches in the back of her head. A large patch of her long hair was shaved off. Mom and Dad sat in silence until she woke. Autumn opened her eyes but refused to speak. Mom held her hand, tears of pity streaming down her face. “Autumn, don’t be mad at your sister, she didn’t mean it. You know how she is, always a tomboy, never knowing her own strength. See, you even cut her neck, and she didn’t say a word.” 3 I lowered my head slightly, feeling the bandage around my neck. The cut wasn’t deep; the blood had almost clotted by the time they bandaged it. Autumn still didn’t speak, closing her eyes, shutting us out. Dad, seeing her stubborn silence, stood up, his brows furrowed, ready to erupt again. Mom pulled him and me out of the room. Outside, Mom gently pushed Dad. “Say less, she’s hurting. Don’t argue with her.” Then she looked at me. “Skylar, does your neck still hurt? Don’t blame your sister, going to an Ivy League was always her dream.” I stared at my shoes, then mumbled, “She cut me, I pushed her. We’re even. I couldn’t care less.” Mom patted my head, a relieved smile on her face. “That’s my Skylar. Big-hearted, doesn’t hold a grudge.” I remained silent, listening to the sounds from inside the room. Autumn shifted under the covers, turning away. Dad walked back in, placing a bowl of porridge on the bedside table. His voice was awkwardly strained. “Eat this after your shot. Your mom and I are going to pay Skylar’s tuition. Let’s just forget about this, okay?” “You’re old enough, be sensible. Stop making a fuss. You and Skylar are sisters. If you don’t support each other, who will?” Autumn stayed hidden under the duvet, silent and still. Dad picked up his car keys and left, Mom pulling me along. She paused at the door, speaking to the lump under the blankets. “Autumn, wait for us here. We’re just going to register Skylar for her classes.” In the car, Mom pulled out the thick envelope. “Skylar, you have to work hard for Professor Davies. Our entire savings, every last penny, is riding on you.” I clutched my backpack, a suffocating weight in my chest, and didn’t reply. Stepping out of the car, I looked up at the towering building. Professor Davies’ workshop was on the 33rd floor. I gripped my backpack strap, my voice barely a whisper. “Dad, Mom, maybe Autumn should go to college instead. I’m just not cut out for school.” Dad shot me a furious glare. “If you dare mess this up, I’ll break your legs.” Mom took my hand, pulling me into the elevator. “It’s okay, Skylar. Just focus on your studies. Autumn’s smart; she’ll get into an Ivy League eventually.” When we returned to the hospital after registering, the nurse informed us Autumn had checked herself out. She was gone. By the time we got home, she had taken her ID and university acceptance letter, packed a few clothes, and left. Dad swore, “Neither of you is any help,” grabbed his car keys, and rushed out to search. Mom, terrified, followed him. I tossed my backpack onto the sofa, my gaze falling on Autumn’s open bedroom door. I sat there, the image of her lying on my floor, blood pooling behind her head, replaying in my mind. Whatever. I’d always wished I didn’t have a sister. Now she was gone; I should be happy. Good riddance. Autumn vanished. Mom and Dad searched everywhere she might possibly go, but found nothing. After twenty-four hours, they filed a missing person’s report. Leaving the police station, Mom’s hands were still trembling. “Where could Autumn have gone? Why is she being so difficult? This is too much.” I supported her, saying nothing, as the three of us silently returned home. Hours later, the police called. They had contacted Autumn. 4 Mom panicked, immediately asking for her address. But the police said Autumn had explicitly stated she was safe and did not want her whereabouts disclosed. Autumn was an adult, capable of making her own decisions, so the police had to respect her wishes. They only relayed that she was safe, providing no address or contact information. After they hung up, Dad slammed the phone onto the table. “That girl is completely out of control!” I stared at the still-lit screen, a guess forming in my mind. A City. The place where her beloved Ivy League university was. Autumn had gone to college. But her major there was incredibly expensive, and our family’s savings could only cover one of us. How could Autumn, running away like that, afford her tuition? I knew where Autumn was, but I just sat there, saying nothing. I didn’t want Autumn to come back. “Waiting another year” to retake her SATs? I didn’t want to live in her shadow a moment longer. Thanks to Professor Davies’ connections, and my parents’ endless gifts and cash, the following year, I barely scraped into Mather Institute of Art. Mom and Dad were overjoyed, throwing a lavish celebration. During the party, relatives asked where their elder daughter was. Dad’s face darkened, and he scoffed. “Who knows where she went. Ungrateful child. Abandoned her family.” After college, I asked Mom and Dad for some money and took a grand trip. On the road, I met a guy from my city. We fell in love quickly—a whirlwind romance culminating in marriage. Autumn didn’t show up to my wedding, and no one mentioned her. But as Mom held my hand, wiping away tears on stage, her gaze kept drifting towards the door. I knew who Mom was waiting for, but I wouldn’t say a word. This was my shining moment; I didn’t want her to steal even a fraction of my spotlight. After the wedding, my husband, Adam, got a job transfer, and we moved to A City. My temper was as volatile as ever, and we had our share of arguments. I was still the same—if I couldn’t win with words, I’d resort to insults; if insults failed, I’d get physical. During an unprecedentedly heated argument, he hit me for the first time. He grabbed a vase and smashed it against my head. My temple hit the coffee table. The world went black for a split second. Before I could shake off the dizziness, a sharp pain shot through my lower body. Blood. So much blood. Just like the blood that day, when Autumn lay on my floor. He was terrified. He picked up his phone, but didn’t call 911. He called his mother, his voice trembling as he told her he’d hit me, and there was blood everywhere. I ended up in the hospital. I’d been a month pregnant and had just miscarried. I woke from a daze, my head wrapped in gauze. He wasn’t there. I was alone in the hospital room. I picked up my medical records and a thick stack of reports, seeing the miscarriage diagnosis. And then, clearly visible in the doctor’s signature line: Autumn Hayes. A sharp sting in my arm. My IV drip was empty, and blood was backing up into the tube. A nurse checked the bag, replaced it, and left. After she was gone, the door opened again. I saw Autumn, dressed in a white lab coat, walk in.

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The year I went blind, I was six. It was the same year I found Leo, half-frozen and left for dead in the snow. I begged my mother to save him, lying that I needed a companion, someone to be my eyes. Later, when we were alone, I whispered a promise in his ear. “I don’t want a guide dog. You just have to live. Go wherever you want to go.” But Leo stayed. After my mother remarried and left, he became the only thing I had. He watched over me as I grew up, my constant guide, my walking cane, my eyes. For my sake, he even abandoned his breathtaking talent for painting to study medicine, to become an ophthalmologist. But even after he became a brilliant eye surgeon, my world remained dark. Then came my 25th birthday. That was the day Sloane, a woman Leo once called his kindred spirit, won a major national art prize. He locked himself in his study. I could hear the rustle of paper, the sharp, angry sounds of tearing. “Just writing you a birthday card,” he said, his voice tight, strained with an emotion he was trying to hide. I smiled, wanting to go to him, to kiss the sadness away. But just as I took a step, a line of text scrolled across the darkness of my vision, stark and terrifying. “Don’t be a fool, little blind girl. He’s tearing up his paintings. On the back of every single one, he’s written ‘Audrey, go die.’” “Stop. Don’t take another step. There’s a frayed electrical cord on the floor in front of you. If you step on it, you’ll be electrocuted.” I froze, just for a second. Then I lifted my chin, forced a bright smile, and took a confident step forward. “Leo,” I called out cheerfully. “Whatever you wished for, I know it will come true.” 1 I walked carefully, deliberately, making sure I wouldn’t miss the frayed wire. Suddenly, Leo’s voice cut through the air. “Audrey!” It was a choked sound, thick with tears, but he didn’t say anything more. I pretended not to notice, my tone light and soothing. “Is your head hurting again? Come here, let me rub your temples.” The text in my mind flashed frantically. “Stop walking, you idiot! The wire is right at your feet!” Good. Right where I can’t miss it. But just as I was about to lower my foot, the doorbell rang, a shrill, piercing sound. It was followed by the violent scrape of a chair being shoved back. “Watch out!” A powerful force slammed into me, throwing me to the floor. My head cracked against the hardwood, my brain rattling inside my skull. The pain was a blinding white light in my endless darkness. Leo’s trembling hands helped me up. “Audrey… I’m so sorry… there was a live wire.” The text was a stream of curses. “What the hell is wrong with you, Leo?! You’re the one who wanted her dead, so why are you shaking now?” My own heart ached. You fool, I thought. Why did you have to go soft? I swallowed the pain and gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s my fault, I’m the one who can’t see. Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt.” The text exploded. “Is she crazy? Apologizing after he tried to kill her?!” But I knew. I knew that right now, Leo was in more pain than I was. I could hear his ragged, broken sobs. He opened his mouth to say something else, but his phone buzzed. A woman’s voice, clear even through the phone. “I know you’re home, Leo. I’m not leaving until I see you.” A pause. “Please. Think of this… as the last time.” I recognized her voice from the TV interviews. Sloane. The brilliant painter. She and Leo had met years ago, volunteering at a community arts program. He told me he’d found a kindred spirit. Sloane once told me that Leo’s art had more soul than anything she’d ever seen. But now, she was a celebrated artist, and he was a doctor trapped with a blind girl. Leo hated being a doctor. After every long surgery, he’d be sick for hours. His hand tightened on mine, a desperate grip, then suddenly released. He stumbled toward the door. The force of him pulling away sent me staggering backward. Disoriented, the back of my head connected with the sharp corner of the dining table. A warm, sticky wetness began to seep through my hair. “Leo,” I whispered, my voice weak. “It hurts…” The front door slammed shut. My hearing has always been sharp, a small compensation for my lack of sight. Even with the door closed, I could hear their muffled, desperate voices from the hallway. Sloane was crying. “Her eyes are a lost cause, and you know it! You can’t fix them! Those hands of yours… they have more talent than mine ever will!” she pleaded. “Come with me. Meet my mentor. It’s not too late, Leo, as long as you just…” “Sloane,” Leo’s voice was shaking as he cut her off. “I owe her my life.” He took a ragged breath. “She’s blind. If I leave her here… where would I go?” Sloane’s voice was filled with sorrow. “What about your dream? What about… me?” A long, heavy silence passed before Leo answered, his voice raw. “No matter what happens… we’ll always be kindred spirits.” I heard her sob, then the sound of her running down the stairs. “I won’t come back again… If you change your mind, use this to find my mentor.” Lying there on the floor, dizzy from the blow to my head, my mind drifted back to when I was thirteen. Some kids from the blind school had cornered me, and I’d come home with bruises blooming on my skin. Leo had been so furious, he’d insisted on transferring to the school himself, just to protect me. He, a brilliant student, giving up a normal high school to spend his days in a place that taught Braille and cane navigation. He stayed up all night, every night, just to keep up with the advanced curriculum of his old school. Then, when I was fifteen, my mother came to say goodbye. She was getting married again. She clutched my hands, her own tears splashing onto my face. “Audrey, your new stepfather… he can’t help me raise a blind child. It’s been so hard, you have to understand, don’t you?” Her voice was a pathetic whine. “Besides, I found Leo for you. He should be the one to take care of you!” She left with her suitcase, leaving me the old house and Leo. He was only eighteen, taking care of a blind girl, and the stress wore him down until he was a bundle of nerves and exhaustion. I used to cry and beg him to leave, to save himself. But he would just smile and stroke my hair. “Little crybaby. Look at the swallows nesting under the eaves. They always come in pairs. One can’t make it without the other.” But now, the little swallow was tired. He deserved to fly away on his own. I was just a blind girl nobody wanted. If Leo hadn’t held my hand all these years, I would have died a long time ago. I just had to make sure I died somewhere he’d never find me. Otherwise, the guilt would crush him. 2 I pressed a hand to the back of my head, smearing the sticky blood, and managed to pull myself to my feet just as the door opened. “What happened to you?” Leo’s voice was hoarse. “Where did all this blood come from?” The text flashed in my vision. “Is he serious? He’s the one who knocked her over!” I tried to smile. “I’m sorry. I can’t see, I must have tripped over something.” The words were barely out of my mouth when a glass shattered at my feet. “Audrey! How many years have you lived in this house? You still don’t know your way around?” I could hear his heavy, ragged breathing. I clutched the hem of my sleeve, my heart sinking. “I’m sorry, Leo. I’m just useless.” He went to the hall closet and pulled out the white cane that had been gathering dust for years. He grabbed my arm and started dragging me out the door. I couldn’t keep up, stumbling, nearly falling down the porch steps several times, but he didn’t slow down. “Leo, where are we going?” I cried, pulling back in fear. He stopped so abruptly that I slammed my face into his back. I felt a warm trickle from my nose. As I fumbled to wipe away the blood, I heard his voice, frayed and broken. “Audrey! There are millions of blind people in the world! Why can they live normal lives with a cane, but you can’t?” His voice cracked. “I’m not your guide dog! I can’t be your dog forever!” A fist seemed to clench around my heart. He gave me a hard shove from behind, and his cold words drifted back on the wind. “If you don’t learn how to walk the sidewalk on your own tonight, don’t bother coming home.” Then he was gone. His scent, his presence, everything vanished. All I could hear was the wind, the rush of traffic, and the murmurs of passersby. “Is she blind? What’s she doing out here? Trying to get hit so she can sue someone?” Darkness and panic swallowed me whole. I clutched the cane, fighting the urge to scream, and whispered his name under my breath. “Leo, I’m so scared.” When I was little, right after I lost my sight, I could never get used to it. I’d wake up to a world of black and start crying hysterically. Leo would always be the first one in my room, his hand finding mine in the dark. “I’m here. Don’t be scared, I’m right here.” Now, only the wind answered. The text in my mind was a torrent of fury. “Unbelievable! He was the one who swore she’d never need a cane, that he’d be her eyes forever! That bastard!” I wiped away a tear. No, it’s not like that. I’d long forgotten how to use a cane, how to feel for the textured paving of the sidewalk. A blind girl like me… I must be such a burden to him. I walked blindly, tapping the ground, moving toward the loudest sound—the blare of car horns at a busy intersection. Maybe if a car hit me, Leo could finally be that free swallow. But the impact never came. Instead, strong arms yanked me back, pulling me into a fierce embrace. Leo’s body was trembling. His voice was laced with despair. “Audrey, you’re blind, not stupid! Why can’t you learn?” His voice broke. “Out of everyone in the world… why did a blind girl have to be the one who found me?” Why? You fool. Then why are you still holding on to me? I finally broke, the sobs tearing out of me. “You’re right, I’m not stupid! So just go! I don’t want you taking care of me anymore!” When I was five, my parents were getting divorced. They fought every day about who would be stuck with me. They were so busy fighting they didn’t even notice I had a fever high enough to burn away my sight. A child nobody wants can’t even keep her own eyes, I thought back then. That’s why, when I saw Leo abandoned in the snow, my heart broke for him. I didn’t want there to be one more unwanted child in the world who couldn’t even keep his eyes. Leo’s arms tightened around me, his grip weak. “Okay, I’m sorry. Don’t say things you don’t mean.” His voice was a hoarse whisper. “If I don’t take care of you, are you going to let a car kill you?” He led me home. He never mentioned the cane again. But I knew he spent more and more time staring silently at the canvases locked away in his study. The next day, I hid in my room and made a call. The person on the other end exploded as soon as she heard my voice. “Why are you bothering me? I have no legal obligation to you anymore!” I sniffled, my nose burning. “Mom… I don’t need you to take care of me. Could you just… pretend to take me in? Just for a little while?” After I swore up and down that I wouldn’t be a burden, she finally agreed, saying that for old times’ sake, she’d pick me up after my half-sister got back from summer camp. I hung up the phone and smiled. It was good. My mother had a new child to love. And Leo could finally get rid of me. 3 When I knocked on Leo’s study door, I heard him frantically putting something away. “What is it? Did you lose something again?” His voice was sharp with irritation. I swallowed hard, then forced a playful smile. “Leo, my mom called. She said she’s doing really well now and feels terrible about everything. She wants me to come live with her. I said yes.” Disbelief colored his tone. “Do you have any idea what you’re saying?” “I want to live with my mother,” I repeated, my voice steady. He exploded. “Audrey, have you forgotten what she did to you? Haven’t you had enough of her cruelty?” Of course I hadn’t forgotten. In the years after the court gave her custody, she was always out on dates. Sometimes she’d be gone for days, forgetting to even leave money for food. A young Leo would go out in the dead of winter to collect empty bottles, using the change to buy a piece of bread that he’d feed entirely to me. He was just a boy, his own stomach cramping with hunger, but he’d pat my back and lie through his teeth. “It’s okay. I just ate too much.” I found Leo because I wanted him to live. But chained to me, he hadn’t had a single good day. I stood my ground, and Leo’s anger boiled over, but he refused to give in. Sighing inwardly at his stubbornness, I called Sloane. “Please,” I begged her. “Try talking to him one more time.” The day Sloane called him, I had just returned from another fruitless eye exam. The doctor’s sigh was heavy with finality. “This eye condition… if even Dr. Evans can’t do anything, I’m afraid this is how it will be for the rest of her life.” Leo’s fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were white. “Audrey, why do you have to be so useless?” Guilt washed over me. All I could say was, “I’m sorry.” Later, I heard Sloane’s heavy voice on the phone with him. “Leo, I’m leaving with my mentor in a few days. Once I’m gone… there won’t be another chance.” A pause. “Is this really… how you want to live the rest of your life?” Leo stared at me, his gaze so intense it felt like he could see right through me. Suddenly, his control snapped. He stormed into his study, grabbed something, and ran out of the house. Listening to the door slam, I felt a strange sense of peace. A day passed, and Leo didn’t come back. Sloane sent me a voice message. “Thank you for letting him go. He’s a natural. My mentor is incredibly impressed.” I was so happy. But I hadn’t eaten anything all day, and the hunger was becoming unbearable. This time, when Leo left, he’d forgotten to leave snacks out where I could easily find them. I used my phone’s voice command to order takeout, but the front door was locked from the outside. Night fell, and Leo still wasn’t back. Acid churned in my stomach. I fumbled my way into the kitchen, trying to find something to eat. But this is how useless a blind person is. I don’t know what I knocked over, but the kitchen caught fire. I scrambled to put it out, but I couldn’t even aim the water in the right direction. The flames spread, and thick smoke filled my lungs. I collapsed, my skin growing numb to the searing heat. “You worthless thing, Audrey,” I sobbed, crawling desperately toward where I thought the door was. “Don’t you die in here!” If Leo came back to find my charred body, he would never, ever recover. The text in my mind screamed directions. “This way, blind girl! Crawl this way, to the left!” I scrambled in the direction it told me, but the smoke was too thick. My consciousness began to fade. When I woke up, I was in a hospital. Leo arrived soon after, with Sloane right behind him. “I was only gone for one day,” Leo murmured, his voice ragged with exhaustion. “Why do you always manage to do this to yourself?” My hands twisted in the starchy sheets. “I’m sorry…” A police officer stood by the bed, his voice stern as he addressed Leo. “How can you call yourself her guardian? How could you leave a blind person home alone?” He gestured at me. “Do you have any idea how close she came to burning to death?” I opened my mouth to defend him, but then I heard Leo’s hollow voice. “Is this it? Every time I try to take a step forward, you pull a stunt like this to remind me that I can never leave your side?” At that moment, Sloane shrieked. “Audrey!” Her voice was sharp with accusation. “You deliberately had me call him, and just when he was about to agree, you do this! You wanted him to feel guilty, to trap him here forever, didn’t you?” I couldn’t see the raw anguish in Leo’s eyes, but I could feel it. And suddenly, I started to laugh. “So what if I did? As long as my eyes are like this, he owes me. He has to be my dog for the rest of his life. Why else do you think I rescued him in the first place?”

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