Category: English

The day our final high school grades were released, Reina threw a huge celebration party for Alex. But she didn’t invite me. Later, when her meticulously planned drone light show over the Hudson River made local headlines, I quietly changed my college application from Columbia to NYU. Eighteen years of being inseparable, and in the end, I lost out to the new guy. I never thought the person I would lose to would be the underprivileged student I had personally vouched for. And this time, I don’t think I can ever forgive Reina. 1 I only found out about the party because someone in our class group chat accidentally posted and then quickly deleted a video. The moment Alex saw his grades, he let out a whoop of joy and swept Reina into a massive hug. “Reina! I can go to Columbia with you!” Reina didn’t push him away. She just smiled and slipped a wristband with a small, silver “King” charm onto his wrist. “Congratulations,” she said. In the background of the noisy video, our classmates were all cheering for him. It felt less like a celebration of his grades and more like they were celebrating him and Reina finally getting together. And there I was, staring at my phone, the punchline to a joke I didn’t even know I was in. I hesitated for a second, then called her. After two rings, a voice I didn’t expect answered. It was Alex. “Hey, Liam. Reina’s in the bathroom. She’s been running around all night planning this party for me, this is the first break she’s had.” He paused, realizing his mistake. “Actually, I told her to invite you, but she said you might be bummed about your scores, so she didn’t want to bother you.” “I’ll have her call you back, okay?” “Whoa…” I heard him gasp, like he had just seen something incredible. I didn’t care what it was. “Don’t bother,” I said, my voice flat. “You guys have fun.” I hung up. A local news notification popped up on my phone. A drone show over the Hudson. When I saw the image of the drones spelling out “CONGRATULATIONS ALEX – COLUMBIA BOUND,” I understood his gasp. A gesture that grand, that public… what guy wouldn’t fall for that? I glanced at my computer screen. A perfect 1600. I had worked my ass off for the past six months. I could get into Columbia, no problem. I could get into any school I wanted. Once, going to Columbia together was our plan, our promise. After Reina got in through early decision, that promise became a heavy weight on my shoulders, making every practice test a source of anxiety. But now, it seemed like I was the only one who even remembered that promise. And there was no point in keeping it anymore. 2 The next day, I slept in until noon. I called my parents and told them my score. My dad wired me ten grand and told me to “go celebrate, buy yourself something nice.” My mom, after a brief silence when I told her I was choosing NYU, finally spoke. “I thought you were going to choose Columbia. With Reina there, I wouldn’t have to worry about you.” She sighed. “But, if you have your own reasons, I support you completely.” “Yeah, Mom. I can take care of myself,” I said, ending the call quickly. After my parents divorced and remarried, having new kids with their new spouses, I became the baggage neither of them wanted. I thought I was used to it after all these years. But hearing her say that… it still stung. Because now, even Reina wasn’t going to be by my side anymore. 3 That afternoon, I was in the backyard, watering the roses, when Reina called to me from over the fence. “You seem to be in a good mood. What did you get?” she asked, yawning. She was still in her pajamas, her voice casual. She probably didn’t actually care about my score. If she did, she wouldn’t have waited until the next afternoon to ask. “1600,” I said quietly. “That’s great!” she said, her voice suddenly bright, like she was genuinely happy for me. “So you can come to Columbia with us!” That one word—”us”—twisted something in my gut. It was like she had only ever wanted Alex to go with her, and I was just an unexpected, and maybe unwanted, addition. I was about to tell her I wasn’t going to Columbia, but then Alex stumbled out of her back door, stretching. He was wearing one of her oversized t-shirts and a pair of pink pajama pants that were way too small for him, making him look like a kid in hand-me-downs. He saw me and ran over, his face beaming. “Liam, man, I’m so sorry. I was so excited yesterday, I completely forgot to ask you how you did.” Of course he was excited. Reina’s grand gesture had made him the talk of the town. Even if the drone show was old news by now, for them, it would be a memory that lasted forever. I looked at the pink pajamas again, and my good mood vanished. Their relationship was moving a lot faster than I had thought. Reina, sensing the awkwardness, tried to smooth things over. “Liam got a 1600. He can come to Columbia with us.” Alex’s smile faltered. “Wow, that’s amazing. You did even better than me.” He looked at me. “Do you know what you want to major in?” I was still stuck on “with us.” “I don’t know,” I said irritably. “With this score, I can probably pick whatever I want.” “Liam, don’t be rude,” Reina said, frowning at me like she was scolding a child. Alex quickly jumped in. “Liam comes from a wealthy family; he can just choose whatever he’s passionate about. For me, I have to think about my future career, job prospects… it’s so hard to choose.” “Don’t worry,” Reina said, reaching up to ruffle his hair, her voice soft. “I’ll help you figure it out.” The casual intimacy of the gesture was like a slap in the face. As they walked away, Reina turned back. “Liam, you shouldn’t talk to Alex like that. His family doesn’t have the advantages we do. He’s worked incredibly hard to get where he is.” “And about yesterday,” she continued, “the party ended really late, and he couldn’t get back to his place in the suburbs, so he just crashed in my guest room. Don’t read anything into it.” “Besides,” she added, “you’re the one who told me to help him out.” “Anyway, I’m really happy you got into Columbia.” I turned off the hose, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. A half-assed explanation and a pat on the head. Was that all I was worth to her? So, Alex’s struggle was a struggle, but mine wasn’t? It was true, when I first introduced them, I had asked her to help him, to tutor him. I never thought he would end up replacing me in her life. I never thought my best friend, the girl I had grown up with, would one day say my full name with such a cold, dismissive tone, all for some other guy. But it was done. Three was a crowd, and someone had to be the one to gracefully exit. So, I wasn’t going to Columbia. In a month, I would be gone, and Reina and I would be over. Forever. 4 I called a real estate agent and listed the house. I told him to price it slightly below market value, but that I would only accept a cash offer. He came over to take pictures and gently told me that finding a cash buyer for a house this size would be difficult in the current market. I just smiled. “That’s fine. Just list it. I’ll leave a key with you when I go to college.” As I was showing him out, I saw Reina and Alex leaving. Alex saw me and immediately came over, all smiles. “Reina’s taking me to get some stuff for my dorm room. Want to come?” He was wearing a brand-new, expensive-looking watch. A gift from Reina, no doubt. It was also obvious that he hadn’t left her house in days. “Crashing for one night” had turned into moving in. But then I remembered that her parents were out of town on business, and it all made a sick kind of sense. Reina didn’t second his invitation. She just pointed at the real estate agent’s car. “Who was that?” “Oh, just someone from the city to fix a leaky pipe,” I lied. Ever since I decided to leave, I had become a very good liar. I don’t know if it was my acting, or if Reina just didn’t care enough to question it. She just nodded and told me to take care of myself, then walked off with Alex, laughing and talking. The sight of their happiness was so sharp, so painful, that I had to turn away. And for the third time in my life, I felt a profound, aching loneliness in this big, empty house. The first time was when I was seven. My parents got divorced. My mom left with a single suitcase. Before she walked out the door, she knelt down and told me, “Your dad is busy. You need to learn to take care of yourself. If you need anything, go next door and ask Reina’s mom.” “And be polite,” she added. “They’ll like you more if you are.” Reina’s parents did treat me like their own son. And Reina… she always looked out for me. If there was a dish on the table that I liked, she would save it for me. I was a picky eater, and I hated carrots. She would sneak them out of my bowl when her mom wasn’t looking and eat them herself, even though she hated them too. The second time was when I was ten. My dad remarried. His secretary, pregnant with a boy, he had confirmed. He was overjoyed. He bought a house in her hometown and moved there. Out of guilt, I guess, he transferred the deed to this house to my name before he left. He said he would come back and visit, but he rarely did. Even though he was never really around much before, the thought of being completely alone in this house on holidays was a new kind of lonely. Back then, Reina, afraid I would be sad, would come over every day with some new way to cheer me up. She would dress up in a Pikachu costume in the middle of summer and bring me cupcakes. Her mom would cook my favorite meals. Their warmth filled the void left by my own family. And slowly, over the years, my feelings for Reina changed into something more. In our freshman year of high school, she made me promise we would go to Columbia together. The look in her eyes was so sincere, I thought she felt the same way. I had planned to confess my feelings to her the day we both got our acceptance letters. Looking back now, I think I was just fooling myself. Reina was nice to me, but she was nice to everyone. Except for Alex. With him, she was more than nice. She was… everything. 5 Reina’s parents came home early from their trip. Her mom immediately called and invited me over for dinner, saying her dad had a graduation gift for me. It was a new laptop, tablet, and phone, the exact same models as Reina’s. I was grateful. Her dad was a quiet man, but he had always been kind to me. The thought of leaving them was the hardest part of this whole decision. But I would find a way to make it up to them someday. We were halfway through dinner when Reina and Alex finally came home. Alex immediately tried to hide behind Reina. Her dad’s expression hardened. “How many times have I told you to be mindful of your boundaries with people? Bringing a boy home like this… what will people think?” Her mom, trying to keep the peace, gestured for them to sit down. “Let’s just eat. After dinner, I’ll have the driver take you home.” She looked at Alex. “Your parents must be worried about you, right?” Alex didn’t say anything. Under the table, he tugged on Reina’s sleeve. She moved my favorite dish, a spicy stir-fried pork, in front of him. “Mom, Dad, I don’t know why you’re so hostile toward Alex,” she said, her voice sharp. “Liam is over here all the time, and you’ve never said a word to him.” “That’s different, and you know it,” her mom snapped. “How is it different?” Reina retorted. She glanced at me, a flicker of something in her eyes, but no apology. She stood up, grabbed Alex’s hand, and pulled him toward the door. “I promised Alex I would show him every corner of this city this summer. If he’s not welcome in this house, then we’ll just stay somewhere else.” Even though I had tried to prepare myself for this, hearing her say that, seeing her defend him so fiercely… it was like a punch to the gut. The special treatment, the favoritism I thought I had… it had never been for me. Her mom tried to comfort me after they left, but I couldn’t hear her words. I just smiled and said, “It’s okay. People grow up.” And people grow apart. “Don’t be too hard on her,” I said. 6 I spent the next few days packing. After my parents left, there wasn’t much in the house that was mine. The only room that took any time was my bedroom. One entire wall was covered in shelves, filled with gifts from Reina. Crystal snow globes, music boxes, Marvel action figures, limited edition sneakers… for a while, they had made me believe I was special to her, that I was the only one. But now, I realized she had probably just felt sorry for me. A sad, lonely boy who needed cheering up. Throwing them all away felt too cruel. I decided to leave them for the next owner. I just packed a few suitcases of clothes. Reina’s parents eventually managed to get her to come home. As a compromise, they allowed her to take Alex out during the day, as long as she was home by six every night. We would sometimes run into each other, and she would always look at me with this hesitant, almost guilty expression. I think she blamed me. I think she thought that her parents’ disapproval of Alex was somehow my fault. But who was there to care about my pain? 6 The night my acceptance letter arrived, Reina threw a small pebble at my window. It was a secret signal we had when we were kids. We hadn’t used it since she and Alex had gotten close. I opened the window, a strange sense of nostalgia washing over me. Reina was standing in her yard, holding up her own acceptance letter, her face glowing. “Liam! It’s here! Columbia, aerospace engineering!” Becoming an aerospace engineer had always been her dream. For a while, I had even considered majoring in the same thing, just so we could spend more time together. Now, all I could do was smile from my window and say, “Congratulations.” “What about you?” she asked, tilting her head. “What did you end up choosing?” “Literature.” She nodded. “That sounds like you.” She pulled a handful of sparklers from her pocket and lit them. The sparks illuminated her beautiful face, making her look almost magical. “Congratulations on getting into Columbia, Liam,” she said, her voice soft and hypnotic. “Thanks,” I said, a dull ache in my chest. If I hadn’t seen the drone show, I might have been fooled by this cheap, imitation romance. Goodbye, Reina. I did get into the literature program. Just not at Columbia. 7 I wanted to live off-campus, so as soon as my student visa was approved, I booked a flight to New York. Reina was too busy showing Alex the world to notice I was gone. I only said goodbye to her parents. I told them I was just going on a trip, not that I was leaving for good. The pace of life in New York was frantic, and the busyness of it all helped to numb the pain of leaving. But sometimes, I would find myself scrolling through my phone, looking at Alex’s posts. While I was apartment hunting under the hot summer sun, he was posting pictures of him and Reina whitewater rafting. Caption: **”Cooling off this summer! First time rafting!”** Reina’s comment: **”There will be many more times to come.”** While I was eating a sad slice of pizza in a tiny diner, he was posting pictures of a fancy dinner at a restaurant at the top of the Empire State Building. Caption: **”It’s lonely at the top. And a little hard to breathe. First time having dinner with a view like this.”** Reina’s comment: **”I’ll help you check off every item on your wish list.”** I turned off my phone, a cold sneer on my face. It wasn’t the altitude that was making him dizzy. It was the intoxicating fantasy of marrying into money. The night I moved into my new apartment, on a strange impulse, I went through and liked every single one of his posts. Less than a minute later, I got messages from both of them. Reina: **”You little jerk. You went to New York without me?”** Alex: **”Reina told me you’re in New York! Is it fun? I wish I could go. I’m so jealous you can just pick up and leave whenever you want.”** Alex: **”By the way, Liam, school is starting soon. You’re still going to sponsor me, right?”** I was defeated by his sheer audacity. He had already stolen the love of my life, and he still had the nerve to ask me for money for college. I was also angry at myself, for wasting even a second of my time on them. I left their messages on “read” and blocked them both. Finally, the world was quiet again.

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1 On our third anniversary, Caleb sent me $5.20. He sent his first love $520,000. When I refused the pittance, he accused me of being a gold digger. “I sent Chloe money because she’s struggling, not because I care about her,” he sneered. “Isn’t my mother’s support enough? This was your final test. You failed, Mia.” So I left. He proposed to Chloe the next day. Five years later, we crossed paths at the Grand Harbor Hotel. His company was nearing its IPO, and Chloe—elegant in couture—clung to his arm. He saw me, covered in mud, digging through a trash can, and frowned in disgust. “Mia Lin. You once looked down on five dollars. Now you’d be lucky to find that much in ten bins,” he said contemptuously. “Don’t think playing pitiful will make me take you back.” I ignored him. My son’s favorite seashell—a treasure his father had thrown away—was somewhere in that trash, and I had to find it. … In the hotel lobby, Caleb Grey made his entrance with Chloe Shen on his arm. His immaculately tailored suit accentuated his tall frame, and he moved with the easy confidence of a man who owned every room he entered. He was instantly recognized. “Mr. Grey! What a surprise to see you at the Financial Summit! To take a company public just five years after taking over… truly remarkable!” “I imagine you’re also here to meet with the investor, then?” Caleb gave a slight, knowing nod. Most of the people here were after the same legendary, elusive investor. Someone’s gaze shifted to Chloe, their voice slick with flattery. “And this must be the lovely Mrs. Grey! A perfect match!” Chloe pressed closer to Caleb, her smile demure. “We’re not married just yet. We’re planning the wedding for after the IPO. We hope you’ll all be able to join us then.” Caleb’s expression tightened for a split second before he forced a smile. “We’ve both been so focused on our careers. We’re already committed to each other; a piece of paper can wait.” The crowd murmured their congratulations. I was surprised. They weren’t married yet? Five years ago, the day after our breakup, he had proposed to her. Their engagement was a high-profile spectacle. He loved her so much; I’d assumed he would have married her immediately. How could work have delayed it this long? Especially when I knew how desperate his mother was for a grandchild. Just then, a hotel attendant marched toward me, his face a mask of disapproval. “Ma’am, this is a five-star resort hotel. It’s not a place for just anyone to wander into.” His eyes raked over me, his disgust unconcealed. “And digging through the trash is strictly prohibited. Please leave at once.” I had just come back from the beach with my son. I was covered in mud, my hair a tangled mess. I certainly didn’t look like a guest. “I’m so sorry,” I explained quickly. “Something of mine was thrown away by accident. I’ll be back in my room as soon as I find it. I’ll clean up any mess…” “With the way you’re dressed, there’s no way you’re a guest here,” he interrupted impatiently. “Leave now, or I’m calling security.” His voice was loud, drawing looks from the surrounding crowd. That’s when Caleb glanced over his shoulder. Our eyes met. He froze. “Mia?” The attendant looked at him, surprised. “Mr. Grey, you know her?” Caleb’s composure returned in an instant. His tone was glacial. “She was a charity case my mother used to sponsor. We’re not acquainted.” He looked away, as if another glance was a waste of his time. It was the same cold indifference he’d shown me the day we broke up. Taking his cue, the attendant shoved me. “Get out of here! I’ve seen your type before. Just because someone helped you once doesn’t mean you can leech off them forever.” I dodged his hand. “I told you, I’ll leave when I find what I’m looking for. I’ll pay for any damages.” He sneered. “Pay? You?” He pointed to the ornate bin. “Do you have any idea what this is? It’s a custom piece from an Italian designer. It costs ten thousand dollars. Can you afford that?” he scoffed. “Don’t make empty boasts. You can’t even imagine the value of a single object in a place like this.” He reached for me again. “That’s enough.” Caleb, who had already reached the elevators, turned and walked back. His face was a blank mask. “What are you looking for? Tell me how much it’s worth, and I’ll give you the cash.” His eyes were cold. “Stop trying to get my attention like this. It’s pathetic. I have zero interest in you.” Chloe tightened her grip on his arm, her smile gentle but condescending. “Mia, we’re getting married. I know you were bitter about the breakup, but you can’t force these things. I hope you can find some dignity.” I offered them a small, genuine smile. “I wish you both a long and happy life together.” Then I ignored them, crouching down to continue my search. “What will it take for you to leave?” Caleb’s voice was sharp with irritation. “Or are you still hung up on that half a million I gave to Chloe?” He impatiently pulled out his phone. “Fine. I’ll transfer it to you now. Take the money and disappear. Never show your face to me again.” He didn’t look up from his screen. “Chloe was always the one I loved. Those years with you were just me running away from my feelings for her. This money is enough for you to start over. Find a man who’s actually in your league and stop wasting your time on me.” Suddenly, his thumbs stopped moving. “Your card was declined. Are you a defaulter now?” I understood immediately. He was trying to send money to the old bank account my scholarship was paid into. I hadn’t used it in years. Since I got married, I’d only ever used the black card my husband gave me. Of course the old one was frozen. It seemed his opinion of me hadn’t improved. I’d graduated from gold digger to broke, and now, to a deadbeat. “I don’t need money,” I said, too tired to explain. His voice turned colder. “You’re reduced to digging through garbage, and you still won’t accept help?” I frowned, confused. “We broke up five years ago. We’re strangers. Why would I need your help?” I added, “And please, don’t send any money. I don’t want it.” If a certain someone found out another man was sending me money, he’d interrogate me for weeks. And if he ever dug up my history with Caleb, the resulting jealousy would last for a month. Caleb was taken aback, then let out a short, mocking laugh. “Mia, you’ve misunderstood. The only reason I’m offering you money is out of pity. Don’t worry, I have absolutely no other intentions toward you.” He stared at my disheveled appearance for a long moment, his expression growing complicated. “Seeing you like this… maybe the breakup hit you harder than I thought. I suppose I do bear some responsibility for that. Is that why you won’t take the money? You want me to feel guilty forever?” Chloe jumped in, stroking his arm soothingly. “Caleb, darling, she was a top student at medical school. She’s perfectly capable of getting a job and supporting herself. The only reason she’s like this is because she’s lazy and has no ambition.” Her voice was sweet poison. “You could see it back then. Her family was poor, but instead of getting a part-time job for tuition, she just accepted your mother’s charity. It just goes to show what kind of person she is.” “Chloe!” I snapped, my voice sharp. “I paid back every cent of that scholarship, with interest. Watch what you say.” Chloe flinched, then tugged on Caleb’s sleeve. “Forget it, Caleb. She’s too proud. Your kindness is just an insult to her. Let’s just go.” “My affairs are none of your concern,” I said coldly, turning back to the trash. Suddenly, I saw it: a small bag filled with colorful seashells. A wave of relief washed over me. I had just grabbed it when Caleb’s hand shot out and clamped around my wrist, yanking me violently to my feet. “Mia Lin! You turned your nose up at five dollars back then, and now you’re digging through trash for shells? Tell me, are they worth more?” His voice was a low growl. “Even as a beggar, don’t think for a second that playing pathetic will make me take you back.” I was speechless. After all these years, he still thought I broke up with him over five dollars? That year, Chloe had left for overseas without a word, a sudden breakup that had nearly destroyed him. Caleb’s mother asked me to look after him, and out of gratitude for her sponsorship, I stayed by his side while he healed. Eventually, we fell into a relationship. But the moment Chloe came back to the country, he grew distant. He stopped answering my calls, ignoring my messages. On our third anniversary, he sent me $5.20. It was a clear, insulting message: get out of my life. The most pathetic part? I still hadn’t wanted to let go. Not until I received that text message from Chloe. That was what truly killed my love for him. How could he not know? I looked down at the hand gripping my wrist. “Caleb,” I said calmly, “I’m doing very well now. I have never, not for a moment, thought about getting back together with you. You can rest easy.” I tried to pull my hand away, but his grip was like iron. “You’re the one who said it, remember? ‘Don’t come crying back to me after we break up.’ I’ve remembered that every day.” He narrowed his eyes. To dispel any lingering doubt, I added, “I’m married now. My husband has a bit of a temper. If he saw us like this, it wouldn’t be good for anyone.” He snatched his hand back as if he’d been burned. His face was a mask of shock. “You dared to get married behind my back?!” His brow was deeply furrowed. “Where is this husband of yours? What kind of man lets his wife end up looking like this?” I didn’t answer. He suddenly let out a bitter laugh. “I almost fell for it. What, you’re trying to make me jealous by pretending you’re married? You could tell me you have kids and I still wouldn’t care.” He didn’t need to say it. I knew better than anyone that his heart had only ever had room for Chloe. But he was the one who confessed his love to me first. I had asked him again and again if he was truly over her, and only when he swore he’d forgotten her did I agree to be with him. Now, in his version of history, I was the desperate one who wouldn’t let go. I shrugged. “Think whatever you want.” Chloe took a theatrical step back. “Caleb, the smell here is awful. Let’s go. She clearly doesn’t appreciate your concern.” But Caleb’s gaze remained locked on me. He wasn’t moving. Chloe shot me a cold glare. “So stubborn. Fine. We’re meeting our investor today, and we happen to need someone to serve tea. If you’re willing, I can pay you fifty thousand dollars.” She smirked. “That should be enough for someone like you to live on for a whole year, right?” Caleb finally stirred. “Mia, you’re just too proud. You won’t take a handout, but you can accept money you’ve earned, can’t you?” I almost laughed in their faces. “Are you two that bored? I don’t have time to play a part in your twisted little charity game. Please, leave me alone.” I had canceled several major surgeries just to get three days off to spend the summer holiday with my son. And they wanted me to serve them tea? It was ludicrous. My repeated refusals made Caleb’s face darken. Even the ever-composed Chloe couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. The crowd around us began to whisper. “Mr. Grey, that woman is not only poor, she’s stubborn. You’re really going to let her serve your VIP guest?” “I think you should forget it. What if she offends the investor? It would ruin the day for all of us.” The attendant was now in a full-blown panic. “Security! Get her out of here! The investment showcase is about to start! The guest in the presidential suite could come down at any moment!” He glared at me. “Ma’am, the most influential people in Port City are here today! Especially the young master of the Thorne family from Helios City! He even brought his wife and child. This hotel has never hosted an event of this caliber!” he hissed. “Normally, I might turn a blind eye to you digging in the trash. I might even give you some cardboard to sell. But not today! You’re making a scene, and it will destroy this hotel’s reputation! I can’t be responsible for that! Please, I’m begging you, just go.” Security guards moved in, grabbing me roughly. “I can walk myself!” I shouted, shaking them off. Seeing that I was finally leaving, a collective sigh of relief went through the lobby. “Wait!” Caleb’s sharp voice stopped me in my tracks. His eyes were fixed on the bag of shells in my hand. His fists were clenched at his sides, his knuckles white. “Mia,” his voice was hoarse, raw with an emotion I couldn’t place. “Why don’t you understand? I don’t need these shells anymore.” I looked down at the shells in my palm, and a memory surfaced. The year he and Chloe broke up was the year his family started sponsoring me. Caleb was a ghost back then, spending his days sitting by the sea, not speaking, not eating. A walking corpse. His mother, worried sick, asked me to keep an eye on him. I took her request to heart. I would sit with him on the beach for hours, day after day. One time, a rogue wave pulled him under, and I dragged him back to shore with every ounce of strength I had, collapsing from exhaustion myself. He held me and cried like a child. In my daze, I grabbed a seashell from the sand and pressed it into his hand. “Caleb,” I’d whispered, “from now on, every time I give you a shell, you have to smile for me. Okay?” He’d nodded, a tearful smile breaking through his despair. After that, I collected shells for him constantly, just to see him smile. It had been so long. If he hadn’t brought it up, I would have forgotten all about it. Seeing my silence, Chloe laughed out loud. “Caleb threw out that box of shells years ago. You can’t possibly think you can win him back with such a childish trick, can you?” she mocked. “It was just a game to him back then, something to humor you. You can’t tell me you actually took it seriously all this time.” Caleb looked at me, his tone flat. “Mia, Chloe and I are getting married. There’s no possibility for us anymore. It’s over.” I had nothing left to say. I turned and walked toward the elevator. Just then, my phone rang. As I reached for it, the attendant snatched it from my hand. He looked the expensive, latest-model phone over with suspicion. “How could you possibly afford a phone like this? Did you steal it?” I froze, forcing my anger down. “That. Is. My. Phone,” I said through gritted teeth. Chloe chuckled as if watching a play, and motioned for the attendant to give it back. “If it’s yours, then unlock it and prove it.” I tried the fingerprint scanner, but my muddy hands wouldn’t register. Face ID failed too, blocked by my messy hair. Just as I was about to type in the passcode, the hotel manager, who had rushed to the scene, snatched the phone away. “Take this to the front desk. Contact our guests immediately and see if anyone has lost a phone.” He then turned to security. “Call the police.” “Wait,” Caleb cut in suddenly. “For my sake, let’s just drop this.” Chloe immediately backed him up. “I’m a lawyer. Theft of an item of this value carries a sentence of at least two years. And as you can all see, she’s not mentally stable. She probably just got confused…” “I didn’t steal anything,” I interrupted. “Since you’re a lawyer, you should know that false accusation carries the same sentence.” My defiance only strengthened the manager’s resolve. He ordered security to restrain me while he dialed the police. At that exact moment, the elevator doors slid open. A three-year-old boy with a tear-streaked face saw me and ran out, his arms outstretched. I knelt down to give him the shells, but Chloe suddenly slapped them out of my hand. The bag scattered across the marble floor. “Mia! Are you insane? Kidnapping a child in front of all these people?!” The boy, startled and scared, burst into terrified sobs. Chloe immediately scooped him up, her voice a soothing murmur. “It’s okay, sweetie. She’s a bad woman, not your mommy. Auntie will help you find your real mommy.” But my son struggled wildly in her arms. “I want Mommy! I want my mommy!” Seeing his red, crying face, my heart felt like it was being shredded. “Let go of my son!” I fought against the guards, trying to get to him, but they held me fast. The lobby filled with ugly, jeering voices. “She’s crazy! Just grabbing any kid and calling him her son! Someone call the police and get her locked up!” “You can’t let a psycho like that run free! She’ll probably burn someone’s house down next!” “Mommy… Mommy…” My son reached for me, his little voice hoarse from crying. I choked back a sob, trying to soothe him even as I struggled. “Don’t cry, baby, Mommy found your shells. I’ll give them to you right now…” I was almost close enough to touch his hand when a guard twisted my arms violently behind my back, preparing to tie them. Caleb sighed deeply and pulled me away from the guards. “I’ll handle this. You go wait outside. I’ll find you after the showcase.” He started dragging me toward the exit. “Let go of me! Caleb, don’t make me hate you!” I screamed, twisting to look back at my son, who was watching me, his little lip trembling. Caleb ignored my pleas, his grip unyielding. Ding. The main elevator doors opened again. A tall, commanding figure stepped out. A perfectly tailored cream-colored suit draped his powerful frame, and he radiated an air of innate, aristocratic authority. “Mr. Thorne,” the crowd murmured in unison, their voices filled with awe. My eyes met his, and my vision blurred with tears.

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I had been in love with Addison Vartan for ten years. The moment I found out he loved my sister, I gave up. That night, he was blind drunk. My first instinct was to call my sister. He snatched my phone and threw it out the window. “Still trying to push me away?” he murmured, his voice a low growl. “You’ve gotten bold, kid.” … After the world tilted on its axis, I told him, “Don’t worry. We’re both adults. I don’t expect you to take responsibility.” Addison’s eyes darkened. He pulled me into his arms. “Maybe not. But I need you to take responsibility for me.” 1 Addison Vartan came back the day before my birthday. I went to meet him, my heart soaring. I was a step too late. I saw him with my sister, Aurora, wrapped in an embrace. My childhood friend, Leo, sighed beside me. “I need to tell you something. You should probably brace yourself.” “What?” My gaze was glued to Addison. It had been so long. He’d gotten even more handsome. Aurora was saying something to him; he just listened, his expression coolly detached, occasionally nodding or murmuring a quiet assent. “Your sister is marrying him.” “Who?” “Addison.” The bouquet of roses I was holding slipped from my grasp and fell to the floor. Addison’s head turned, his eyes finding mine across the space. His gaze lingered on my face for a moment, just as blank and unreadable as ever. Leo grabbed my arm. “Hey, did you hear me?” I shook him off. “Don’t talk nonsense!” I loved Addison. My pursuit of him had always been loud, direct, and anything but a secret. My sister adored me. She would never, ever try to steal him away. I launched myself into Addison’s arms. He stumbled back half a step, catching me. I inhaled the faint, familiar scent of tobacco on his coat, my head swimming with delirious happiness. “Addison, did you come back just for my birthday?” “You’ve misunderstood.” He gently pried my arms off him, making me stand on my own two feet. “I have a temporary assignment. A business trip to the city.” I didn’t care about that. I pressed close to him again. “Do you have time tomorrow night, then? Can you come to my birthday party?” “Skye.” My sister’s voice was firm. She pulled at my sleeve. “Addison is very busy. Don’t be a nuisance.” I tilted my head back, my eyes wide with hope, looking only at Addison. “Stay out of this, Aurora. I want to hear his answer.” Our eyes met. His were sharp, a deep, impenetrable black. I couldn’t read a thing. But I knew that ever since we were children, he could never bring himself to refuse me. Except for that one thing: being his girlfriend. As expected, Addison let out a soft sigh. “If I have time, I’ll be there.” “Okay.” I beamed. “I’ll be waiting for you, Addison.” 2 At 11:46 PM, he came. “He’s on the rooftop, talking with your sister,” Leo told me. “Okay!” I was practically vibrating with joy, ready to sprint up the stairs. Leo grabbed my arm again. “Skye, please listen to me. Go on up, fine. But whatever you see, you have to be able to handle it.” “What is there to handle?” I brushed him off, unconcerned. I ran up to the rooftop, the name “Addison” ready on my lips. But the word caught in my throat, a hard, painful lump. I saw my sister, the one who had cherished and protected me my whole life. She reached up and untied the silk bow at her chest. She took Addison’s hand, which was resting at his side, and brought it up, placing it over her heart. “Addison, I’m in love with you,” she said, her voice trembling but clear. “I don’t know when it started, but by the time I realized it, it was too late to turn back. I know this is wrong, I know it’s not fair to Skye, but my feelings for you… they are just as strong as hers.” My own heart leaped into my throat. I prayed silently, fiercely. Reject her! Addison! You’re so good at rejecting people! But heaven wasn’t listening. I watched as Addison raised his hand. His fingers were gentle, deliberate. He took the ribbons of her undone bow and slowly, carefully, tied them back together. Then he opened his arms and pulled her into a hug. His lips moved, but I couldn’t hear the words. Of course, I didn’t want to hear them. A tear slid down my cheek, a hot, silent drop that felt like it was falling straight into my soul. The two people I loved most in the world. On my birthday. Betraying me. Together. 3 I ran. Not home, not to school. I spent the next seven days and seven nights drowning myself in bars and clubs. Preston, some trust-fund kid who’d had a thing for me, finally saw his chance and stuck to me like glue. He opened a five-figure bottle of champagne, determined to get me wasted. My head was spinning, nausea rising in my throat. He kept pushing the glass toward me. “Skye, drink! If you don’t drink, you’re disrespecting me!” My hair was a messy curtain over one shoulder. I shot him a glare. “Don’t push your luck. What ‘respect’?” “Hey! If you don’t want to drink, fine, but why the attitude?” He was offended, calling over his buddies to back him up. The door clicked open. Like the hero walking into a movie, Addison’s entrance had an unreal, luminous quality. He stood tall, a cut above everyone else, his presence commanding. He was dressed in black, a palpable chill emanating from his sharp features. The restaurant manager scurried behind him, trying to stop him. “Sir! You can’t just walk in here! Who are you?” Addison ignored everyone. His eyes locked onto me, a storm gathering in their depths. He strode over, grabbed my wrist, and started pulling me out. Preston stepped in his way. “Hey, who the hell are you?” “You dare touch someone who belongs to me?” Addison didn’t say a word. He just lifted his gaze and leveled it at him. It was a look forged in crucibles Preston couldn’t even imagine, and it made the boy flinch. Preston started to bluster, but Addison had already turned to the stunned manager. “My name is Vartan.” “Vartan? As in, the Vartans?” “Holy crap! We can’t afford to mess with him!” “Come on, anyone can say that. How do we know he’s not bluffing?” The whispers rippled through the room, but no one dared to move. Addison let out a cold laugh. “Since you’re Skye’s friends, you’re my friends,” he said, his voice dangerously smooth. “Their tab tonight… put it on me.” He turned back to the now-terrified Preston. “May I take her now?” 4 A classic hero-saves-the-damsel moment. All I felt was that he was being a meddling busybody. Inside Addison’s black SUV, I asked lazily, “Did my sister send you?” He handed me a bottle of water. “What does she have to do with this?” The cap was already twisted open. So thoughtful. Worthy of being my brother-in-law. I didn’t take a sip. I screwed the cap back on and tossed the bottle into the back seat. “Well, congratulations are in order, I suppose.” The car screeched to a halt. I was nearly thrown from my seat. I whipped my head around to glare at him. His own expression was thunderous. “Skye Everett, can you stop with the sarcasm?” “You want me to talk to you nicely?” I sneered. “Fine. Beg me.” Addison would never beg me. He started the car again and drove me home in stony silence. I slammed the car door when we arrived, still ignoring him. He caught my arm, his voice laced with exasperation. “What will it take for you to talk to me properly?” I walked into the house and went straight to my father’s liquor cabinet, reaching for the strong stuff on the top shelf. Too high. I couldn’t reach. I heard Addison sigh behind me. He stepped up, easily retrieved the bottles, and handed them to me. I set them on the table. “Drink all of these, and I’ll talk to you properly.” Addison was allergic to alcohol. He wasn’t supposed to drink, ever. He looked at me, his gaze intense. “You promise?” “Of course.” I’d never seen him drink. The one and only time was on his 18th birthday. He ended up in the hospital. I sat by his bedside all night, crying my eyes out. When he woke up, I made him promise me. “Swear you’ll never drink again!” He was lying there, pale as a sheet, but he still managed a weak smile. He lifted his hand and gently tapped my nose. “I swear I’ll never make our little Skye cry again.” I was only in middle school then. That brilliant smile was seared into my heart. Even today, I couldn’t erase it. 5 Addison had lost his mind. He actually twisted the cap off one of my dad’s expensive whiskeys and started chugging it straight from the bottle. At first, I didn’t care. But then half the bottle was gone, and he still wasn’t stopping. No. Even without the allergy, drinking like that would destroy his stomach. I didn’t want him dying in my house. I snatched the bottle from his hand. “Stop it! You don’t have to drink anymore! I was wrong! It was a joke, okay? I won’t mess with you!” The alcohol had hit him hard. The corners of his eyes were red, the usual intimidating aura around him gone. He just stared at me blankly, murmuring my name. “Little Skye.” He kept saying it, and my own throat felt dry. This was a mistake. A terrible mistake was about to happen. No. Even though I loved him, I had my limits. A moral code. “Just sit here. I’ll get you some water.” I escaped to the kitchen and fumbled for my phone to call my sister. Before the call could connect, the phone was ripped from my hand. I turned to see Addison swaying behind me. He’d thrown my phone out the open window. We lived in a house, thank God. Otherwise, that would have been a crime. “Addison! What is wrong with you? You owe me a new phone!” He just looked at me, a dumb, drunken haze in his eyes. Then he reached out and pulled me into his arms. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. I could hear his heart beating against my ear. His warm breath ghosted over my skin, and his voice, deliberately low and raspy, was intoxicating. It was melting my resolve. “Still trying to push me away?” “You’ve gotten bold, kid.” 6 His kiss was a storm. Overwhelming, passionate. I never knew the perpetually cool Addison Vartan could be so fiery. At first, I resisted. Then, it became a battle of wills. It’s not like I was losing out, anyway. But I was no match for him. I was losing, badly. “Addison,” I mumbled against his lips, still trying to sound tough. “Tell me the truth. You’ve kissed a lot of girls, haven’t you?” He was dizzy, his arms tight around me. “Little Skye,” he slurred, “I’ll take that as a compliment on my natural talent.” Talent, my ass. I bit his lip. He wouldn’t open his mouth. I pinched his side in frustration. He gasped in pain, his lips parting, and I took my chance. And I lost again. I don’t know how it all happened. When I came to my senses, Addison was cupping my face, his handsome features softened with a tenderness I’d never seen before. “Are you going to push me away again?” I turned my head, refusing to answer. He was stubborn, pressing me for a response. He didn’t stop until a broken sob escaped my throat, until tears were streaming down my face. He sighed, as if he didn’t know what to do with me. He gently, tenderly, kissed the tears from my cheeks. “Little Skye,” he whispered. “I’m so in love with you.”

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1 For three years, my soul has been trapped in the ceiling. Tonight, my family hired a paranormal livestreamer to prove I faked my own death. During the broadcast, my mother wrapped her arm around Lily, the girl they raised in my place, and called me a venomous, ungrateful snake. My brother’s voice was cold as ice. “When she was home, all she did was hurt Lily with her pathetic little schemes. Now she’s learned to play dead just to torment us. A monster like that doesn’t deserve to be my sister!” My father nodded in agreement. “Exactly. She’d better be dead for real this time. If not, I want this streamer to drag her out and humiliate her.” Everyone cursed my name, saying the world was better off without me. It made me wonder. If they saw that I was well and truly dead, would they feel even a flicker of sadness? … Deep in the night, a dilapidated, abandoned building stood silhouetted against the moon. A streamer, a camera strapped to his head, pushed open a rust-eaten iron gate, the beam of his high-powered flashlight cutting through the darkness. “What’s up, folks! Daredevil Dave, your number one Myth Smasher, coming at you live.” “Tonight, we’re at a location that’s become a hotspot for ghost hunters over the last three years. The story goes that Clara Ashworth, the heiress who was cast out by her family, threw herself down a well right here, turning this place into a seriously haunted house.” “Yesterday, her family contacted me. They want me to get to the bottom of it. So tonight, we’re going to uncover the secrets of this so-called haunted mansion!” The yard was choked with weeds, and the mournful cries of a few night birds echoed under the chilly moonlight, making the scene feel unnervingly strange. The live chat was already exploding. 【Clara Ashworth? You mean that evil bitch they found and brought back to the family?】 【I heard that after she moved in, she used her ‘real daughter’ status to frame the adopted one, Lily, over and over. Then she tried to poison Lily, but her own father drank it by mistake!】 【Damn, she deserves to rot. The Ashworths should have never taken her back!】 【Almost killing her own dad? She’s worse than an animal!】 Someone else chimed in with more gossip: 【Heard when they kicked her out, she stole a bunch of jewelry and stuff. Probably came here to party and live it up every night…】 【For real? But this place looks creepy as hell. Doesn’t exactly scream ‘party central.’】 【Plus, people say they hear a woman crying here at night. Totally gives me the creeps…】 【What do you know? She was probably scared her family would find her, so she had her ‘fun’ here! Crying? Please. Probably just noises she made while she was getting wild. If you know, you know!】 Watching the fiery debate in the chat, my brother’s voice cut in, low and grim. “We thought she might have learned her lesson, but instead, she’s resorting to these sick games to curse us. Dave, please, show everyone what she’s really up to.” My parents urged him on. “Yes, we can’t let her continue this madness!” The chat went into a frenzy. 【Whoa, so the haunting is fake? She’s still alive?】 【What a psycho! Dave, go in there and expose her!】 Daredevil Dave chuckled. “I’ve said it a thousand times, folks. There are no ghosts in this world. Just people causing trouble.” “Tonight, I’ll show you exactly what kind of game this wicked heiress is playing.” His righteous declaration earned a wave of cheers and a flood of digital gifts in the livestream. Dave raised his flashlight and waded through the tangled weeds into the yard. He stopped at the edge of the old, dry well where I was rumored to have ended my life. A massive stone slab covered the opening. Moss crawled over the stone, and in the ghostly moonlight, you could see several dark, dried bloodstains on its surface. On the video call, Lily clutched her head and let out a pained cry. “That’s it! In my dreams, Clara was there… biting her own finger to write a curse, saying she would trap me in that well for eternity…” My brother comforted her. “Don’t be afraid, Lily. Her pathetic black magic can’t hurt you.” My father spat, his voice filled with rage. “All this hocus pocus! I’d like to see what kind of trick she can pull from the bottom of a well!” Dave found a crowbar and started working on the stone. Ten minutes later, panting, he finally pried the massive slab away. He aimed his flashlight into the abyss. A gasp escaped his throat. “Holy crap! What the hell is this?” The moonlight poured into the well, but instead of the expected glint of water, there was only a pit of impenetrable darkness. A foul, rotting smell drifted up, and Dave pinched his nose, taking a step back. 【Whoa! Did the evil bitch actually jump?】 【I remember three years ago, after they threw her out, she did a livestream, crying. She said she didn’t poison anyone and that she’d prove her innocence with her life!】 【Don’t fall for it! There’s no water in the well. She couldn’t have drowned. How could she kill herself by jumping in? It’s so fake!】 Dave pulled on a mask and tied a rope around his waist. “Only one way to find out! If she really did it, her bones will be down there.” 【Dude, are you insane? What if it’s real? You don’t want to piss off a vengeful spirit…】 Dave pulled out a silver medallion. “Look, I don’t believe in ghosts. But even if there is one, this little baby will send it packing.” The chat erupted in laughter. I managed a bitter smile. These strangers, who had never met me, were filled with such malice, all based on whispers and rumors. They didn’t care about the truth; they only cared about the version of justice they’d constructed in their minds. How pathetic. At the bottom of the well, Dave found only a few animal skeletons. And a strange, yellowed piece of parchment. My mother recognized it instantly. “That’s a hex! That’s Lily’s name and birthdate on it! She’s really cursing my daughter!” The chat exploded. 【Holy shit, she’s pure evil!】 My brother explained that he and my parents had been having nightmares recently, dreams where they could hear me crying. They had considered looking for me, but Lily had tearfully begged them not to. “Clara came to me in my dreams, too,” she sobbed. “She said she’d find a way to make you take her back. And when you did, she promised she’d make my life a living hell!” Her words were enough. My parents and brother promised they would wash their hands of me, leaving me to my own fate. But soon after, Lily started having accidents—a sudden fever, a near miss with a car. Fearing for her safety, the family had decided to call in a paranormal streamer to expose whatever game I was playing. Now, seeing the hex, my brother’s hands clenched into fists. “The police searched this place three years ago. There were no animal bones or hexes in this well then. This has to be Clara’s doing!” My father’s voice was laced with fury. “And she has the nerve to haunt our dreams, claiming she was framed. It’s clear she just wants to make sure we never have a moment’s peace!” “But… if she can visit our dreams, does that mean something really happened to her?” my mother murmured, a flicker of doubt in her eyes. As if to answer her, a cold, unnatural wind swept through the yard. Dave’s flashlight suddenly died. The chat freaked out. 【WHOA DUDE, YOU STILL ALIVE?】 【I’M GONNA PEE MY PANTS, DON’T DO THIS TO ME!】 Before Dave could say anything, the livestream cut out. “Did something… actually happen to Clara?” My parents and brother stared at their phones, a nervous energy filling the room. The comment sections on social media were already buzzing. 【Dave’s been streaming for five years, and his feed has never just cut out like that! Something’s seriously wrong!】 【What if we were wrong about the real daughter? What if she’s actually dead? Oh god, please forgive our ignorance…】 A dark glint flashed in Lily’s eyes. She buried her face in my mother’s arm and cried, “If something really happened to Clara… then who put those things in the well to curse me?” “Maybe… maybe I should just leave the Ashworth family. Then she won’t have any reason to curse you all.” “It’s all my fault,” she whispered. “I made her go down the wrong path…” Any shred of concern my family had for me evaporated, replaced by cold fury. “It was her own petty, jealous heart. How could you possibly blame yourself?” “If she hadn’t been constantly trying to drive you away three years ago, your father would never have been poisoned.” “We kicked her out to stop her from doing something unforgivable! It had nothing to do with you!” At this, my brother slammed his glass down on the table. “I can’t believe she’s still pulling these stunts. She doesn’t deserve to be part of this family!” My mother agreed. “That’s right. We will never let her back in!” My father snorted. “When the stream comes back on, we’re going to make sure the entire world sees her for the monster she is!” Five minutes later, Dave’s stream was live again. He had climbed out of the well and was grinning into the camera. “Positive energy, folks! Just a bad signal. And the flashlight ran out of batteries!” 【You scared the hell out of us! So… are you still gonna check out the house?】 Dave declared that since he was already there, he had to do a full sweep. He walked to the front door of the house and pushed it open. A blast of cold, musty air rushed out, carrying a cloud of dust. The broken windows rattled in their frames. Empty liquor bottles littered a table. 【Damn, she was really living it up in here. Look at all that booze!】 Dave’s flashlight then caught something on the floor—several empty condom wrappers. 【She was definitely sleeping around with a lot of guys here!】 “These things… they were confirmed to belong to Clara. The police documented all of this back then,” my brother stated flatly. As soon as he said it, the chat filled with insults, calling me a slut. “We asked the police to keep it quiet at the time, to protect what little was left of her dignity.” “But now… after being gone for three years, she’s using black magic to harass our family and curse Lily. We’re not protecting her anymore!” 【That’s right! That ungrateful bitch doesn’t deserve to be your family! Dave, find more evidence! Nail her to the wall!】 As the crowd’s anger reached a fever pitch, a scraping sound, like fingernails on wood, echoed from the second floor. 【What the hell was that?! Maybe you should get out of there, Dave. I’m scared…】 “We have to be scientific, folks! I’m going up there to see who’s trying to spook us!” Dave said, his voice a little shaky as he grabbed his silver medallion and headed up the stairs. It turned out to be nothing more than the wind pushing a tree branch against a windowpane. Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief. But then, a pair of eyes glowed in the darkness. 【AHHH! A GHOST!】 Dave fought to keep his legs from turning to jelly and shone his flashlight toward the glowing eyes. “Oh, for crying out loud. It’s just a stuffed rabbit.” The moment he picked it up, the rabbit spoke. “My family found me at the orphanage today. Mom cried and said she was so sorry, that it was all her fault I was switched at birth at the hospital.” “Dad said he’d never let me suffer again.” “And my brother gave me this little rabbit. It can repeat what you say.” “I’m so happy. I finally have a family.” My own voice, young and hopeful, startled Dave, but he quickly realized what it was. “Is that… Clara’s voice?” My brother’s tone was heavy. “That was my gift to her. I think… I think it had a recording function.” The chat exploded. “Whoa? That must have been recorded like, five or six years ago. Her voice is so young!” Dave quieted the chat and gently pressed the toy again. “There’s another sister at home. She’s dressed like a princess.” “When Mom saw her crying, she held her and comforted her for a long time.” “Dad and my brother told me that her name is Lily, and she’s our family, too. They said thanks to her, Mom wasn’t so sad all those years.” “I understand. I’ll love my sister, too.” … Hearing this, Lily’s voice choked with a sob. “But she didn’t love me. She hated me…” My brother put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and motioned for Dave to continue. “Today, the butler’s son called me a hick. My brother punched him hard.” “The butler almost called the cops, but I said I did it.” “Mom was furious. She sent me to bed without dinner.” “My brother snuck a piece of chicken into my room. He asked me why I took the blame for him.” “I said I was scared the police would take him away. He laughed.” “He said he’d get arrested a hundred times to protect his little sister.” “This is what it feels like to have a big brother. It’s the best feeling in the world.” Dave looked surprised. The chat was scrolling wildly. 【Huh? The evil bitch was once this sweet?】 【Maybe something happened to make her change?】 My brother stared at the rabbit, his mind drifting back. He remembered telling me I was just like that bunny, soft and lovable. What had happened to that gentle, kind sister to turn her into the person she became? Lily tugged at his sleeve, crying. “Clara wasn’t always bad, brother. Please, don’t hate her for this.” As she spoke, she casually brushed her hair back, revealing a deep, ugly scar on her forehead. The sight snapped my brother back to the present. His expression hardened with disgust. “You’re always too kind, Lily. She’s the one who gave you that scar. Don’t you dare defend her.” 【Whoa, that scar is from her? Never mind, can’t trust a word she says!】 Dave frowned and pressed the rabbit again. “My sister didn’t come home tonight. It got really late.” “Dad was about to call the police when she finally showed up, her dress torn, her head bleeding.” “She fell to her knees in front of me and begged for forgiveness.” “She said she knew she was wrong to compete with me for Mom and Dad and brother’s love.” “She begged me to stop sending people to hurt her, and she promised she’d leave home right then.” “My brother was so angry. He wanted to call the police and have me arrested.” “I cried. I told them I didn’t do it… I really didn’t.” “My sister pleaded for me.” “She said we couldn’t let a scandal like that get out, especially since I’d only been back with the family for a year.” “For the first time, my whole family looked at me with disgust.” “They made me move into the storage room. They told me to think about what I’d done.” “I’m so lost. Why doesn’t anyone believe me?” Dave paused again. He was confused. The recordings were filled with Clara’s desperate pleas for her family’s trust. She didn’t sound like someone who would bully her sister. Someone was lying. Noticing his suspicious gaze, Lily buried her face in her hands, weeping. “Why would Clara twist the truth like that? She knows what those people almost did to me…” she wailed. “Would I really use my own reputation, my own safety, to frame her?” The chat was once again filled with rage. 【So this monster started her crime spree way back then!】 【And she has the nerve to record herself playing the victim? Disgusting! Find her and throw her in jail!】 Amid the storm of curses, a thin crack suddenly appeared on the silver medallion in Dave’s hand. Everyone was shocked, asking him what had happened. His face paled, and he shushed the chat, pressing the rabbit again. But the next recordings were just more of my lonely ramblings, my desperate yearning for family, and my terror at the bizarre things that kept happening. Every incident somehow pointed to me, and no one ever believed I was innocent. I sounded heartbroken. “Little rabbit, why don’t Mom and Dad and brother believe me?” I cried in one recording. “Is it because I’m not as perfect as my sister?” So, I channeled my grief into determination. I started studying relentlessly. Finally, I was accepted into a decent state college. I was ecstatic, mainly because the school was far from home. I threw myself into a new life, and the recordings filled with my joy about college and the new friends who actually cared about me. Dave’s expression softened. It seemed that a change of scenery had done me good. But the rabbit’s next words sent a shockwave through everyone watching. “Why won’t they believe me?” “I didn’t seduce my sister’s boyfriend… I swear I didn’t.” “It was New Year’s Eve. We all had too much to drink.” “I just woke up and he was in my bed.” “My sister cried and asked me why I would steal him from her. Mom and Dad and brother called me shameless.” “I begged him to tell them the truth, but he said… he said I dragged him into my room when he got up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night.” “I didn’t do it. Why would he lie about me?” “My sister didn’t believe me either. She ran out of the house, crying, and was almost hit by a car.” “Dad hit me for the first time. But I really, really didn’t touch her boyfriend…” Hearing my choked sobs, Dave’s brow furrowed. He glanced at Lily on the screen, searching her face for something, anything. The medallion cracking wasn’t a coincidence. Something was very wrong. Lily threw herself into my mother’s arms, whimpering that her leg, the one injured in the accident, was aching again. My brother scoffed. “Her lies might fool a ghost, but not us. We know exactly what she’s like.” My father’s anger flared. “She’s a compulsive liar! She almost poisoned me to death, and you expect anyone to believe her?” Someone in the chat snarked: 【This recording is so fake. So the whole family just misunderstood her over and over again? Yeah, right. I’m not buying it.】 My heart ached, but I couldn’t make a sound. No one noticed the single drop of water, like a tear, that traced a path down the dusty mirror behind Dave. He pressed the rabbit again. “I went to the hospital to see my sister today. I saw her hand her boyfriend a debit card.” “She told him he’d put on a good performance.” “It was all an act to frame me!” “I confronted them, but then Mom and Dad and my brother arrived.” “Her boyfriend threw the card in my face. He said it was from me, that I paid him to keep tormenting my sister.” “I screamed that they were lying, that it was all a setup. My sister threatened to jump off the roof to prove her innocence.” “They believed her. They kicked me out of the house.” “I don’t have a home anymore…” 【Just check whose name is on the card, problem solved, right?】 My brother laughed, a cold, harsh sound. “We checked. The card was in Clara’s name.” 【Well, there you go. What’s she playing innocent for? So gross!】 Dave remained silent, pressing the rabbit one last time. “The dean called again about my tuition and dorm fees.” “I tried to call my brother to borrow some money, but he called me a liar and a thief.” “But I’m not lying. And I didn’t steal anything.” 【What a joke. If she was so broke, how was she partying and living it up here?】 My brother’s voice was dripping with contempt. “She didn’t steal? Then how did my mother’s jewelry and the cash from my father’s safe just disappear?” “If we weren’t trying to spare her some public humiliation, we would have called the cops on her long ago!” Dave noticed another crack spiderweb across the medallion. “It’s been three months since I dropped out of school.” “I was waiting tables at a hotel and saw my family celebrating Christmas Eve with Lily.” “My brother told me to stop making a scene and get lost.” “My dad said if it wasn’t for the family’s reputation, he’d have me thrown in jail.” “But I don’t have money for my treatment. Is it a crime to work?” “The doctor said if I don’t get treatment soon, my stomach cancer will get worse.” “I don’t want to die.” 【She was sick? Why didn’t she tell her family? It’s another lie, isn’t it?】 Dave pressed the rabbit, and it provided the answer. “It’s New Year’s Eve. My sister begged the family to let me come home.” “I was going to tell them about the cancer.” “But after my father drank the juice I poured for my sister, he collapsed. He’d been poisoned.” “The dose was small, thank God. He survived.” “He made a public statement disowning me.” “Everyone called me a monster. I had nowhere left to go.” 【Serves her right. You play with poison, you get burned!】 A desperate, broken wail came from the rabbit. “I tried to go back to get my medical records, but a group of drunk men knocked me out.” “When I woke up, the records were gone. And those men… they had violated me.” “Someone kind called the police.” “But the men they arrested said I was willing, that I did it for money.” “And there was a pile of cash under my bed.” “My parents called me disgusting. My brother told me to stop making up excuses for being a whore.” “He said if I couldn’t handle living, I should just die and stop shaming the Ashworth name.” “Should I? Should I just die?” The recording stopped. No matter how many times Dave pressed it, the rabbit remained silent. 【If she was assaulted, where did all the booze, condoms, and money come from?】 【Jesus. She almost kills her dad, then comes back here to screw around with a bunch of guys? She probably lied about being assaulted because she was scared of getting caught.】 【The police already investigated the scene. She probably faked her suicide, took the money, and ran. This recording is just a pathetic attempt to look innocent.】 【And then, when she got bitter, she came back to put a curse on the adopted daughter!】 【What a psycho! Someone needs to find her and lock her up for good!】 With every comment, the netizens hammered another nail into my coffin. Dave was silent, his jaw tight. He knew this wasn’t the whole story. He turned, and that’s when he finally saw it. On the mirror behind him, streaks of water trickled down the dusty surface. Like tears. The air was bone-dry. Where was the water coming from? He looked up, following the drip to its source, and his eyes widened in shock. “There’s something wrong with this ceiling. I have to break it open.” He dug a hammer out of his bag and, aiming for a crack where the water was seeping through, he swung. With a single blow, the plaster shattered. Something fell from the hole. Instinctively, Dave threw the stuffed rabbit up to block it. 【HOLY SHIT! IS THAT… AN URN?!】 【Why is there a hex nailed to it?! That’s so messed up!】 Dave picked up the small urn and held the parchment with its strange writing up to the camera. My mother saw it and her face went ghost-white. “That’s… that’s Clara’s name and birthdate!” My father and brother stared, their mouths agape in disbelief. Just then, the rabbit—the one that had just been hit by the urn—spoke again. Its eyes lit up, and a triumphant, mocking laugh filled the air. It was Lily’s voice.

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Suddenly, I could see everyone’s true identity. My best friend’s rich boyfriend had the words “Married Man, Ten Million in Debt” floating over his head. My own broke boyfriend? “Missing Heir to the Richest Family in the Country.” Right at that moment, my best friend was in the middle of a lecture, trying to convince me to break up with him. “It’s better to be a rich man’s mistress than a poor man’s wife,” she insisted. “Good looks don’t pay the bills.” “Your boyfriend could work his entire life and still not afford the toilet in my husband’s house.” 1 In the lavishly decorated Western restaurant, my best friend’s boyfriend, Jason, casually flipped through the menu. “Two orders of the M9 Wagyu Beef Wellington. The meat’s incredibly tender here.” “And two of the seared foie gras with sea urchin and caviar.” “The charcoal-grilled blue lobster… that’s a pretty big portion, so one should be enough.” With every item he named, the color drained a little more from my face and from my boyfriend, Fred’s. I stared down at the menu, a cold sweat breaking out on my back. The steak was $1,388 an order. The foie gras was $798. The blue lobster was a staggering $2,688. Add in the appetizers, salads, and desserts… dinner tonight was going to cost well over ten thousand dollars. And tonight, it was our turn to pay. Jason was my best friend Maya’s new boyfriend. They hadn’t been dating long before she excitedly insisted on a double date. Last week, Jason and Maya had treated us to a hot pot dinner. When it was time to pay, Jason conveniently got a call from a major client. He rushed out to meet them, and Maya ended up paying the bill. With my coupon. My company had a partnership with the hot pot place, and they’d given us a few $200 gift certificates for the holidays. You could use one per meal. I remembered it clearly: after the coupon, the total came to $360. 2 Fred is a firm believer in returning a favor. Since they had treated us, it was only right that we treat them back. When I suggested it to Maya, Jason had waved his hand with a magnanimous smile. “Hey, we’re all friends here. No need to be so formal.” Then he immediately called and booked a table at this restaurant. What were his exact words? “You don’t have to take us anywhere fancy. Just a casual meal is fine.” His idea of “casual” was a dinner that would cost me two months’ salary. After setting down the food menu, Jason picked up the wine list. “This restaurant owns its own vineyard in France. Their reds are exceptional. You have to try one.” “Let’s go with this Grenache. It’s got a rich, fruity body with a crisp, oaky finish.” Under the table, Fred’s hand tightened on mine. My heart gave a violent lurch. That bottle of wine cost $39,888. Fred and I had just graduated from college this year. We’d landed decent jobs at good companies, but we were still just interns. I made $5,600 a month; he made $6,800. We both came from rural, working-class families. We had fought our way to this metropolis through sheer academic grit. But the cost of living in the city was crushing. And the weight on our shoulders was immense. My mother’s health was poor, so I sent half my salary home every month for her medicine. Fred’s income had to cover our food, transportation, and rent. After six months of scrimping and saving, we had managed to put away just over $30,000. Thirty thousand dollars. In a rich man’s restaurant, that wasn’t even enough to buy a single bottle of wine. 3 The wine and food would be at least fifty thousand. Was I supposed to take out a payday loan to treat them to dinner? Maya leaned against her boyfriend’s shoulder, her face glowing with happiness. “Jason, how do you know so much about all this?” “Thank you for showing us this world. I would have never dared to step into a place like this on my own.” I was torn. My rational mind was screaming at me not to bankrupt myself just to save face. But my heart ached at the thought of embarrassing my best friend. Just as I was hesitating, the waiter collected the menus and turned to leave. Fred suddenly looked up. “Excuse me,” he called out. “We’d like to cancel that order.” “I bought a group deal for this restaurant online. We’ll just have that set menu, please.” A wave of relief washed over me. I gave Fred a mental thumbs-up. He had said what I was too afraid to say. But Maya’s expression changed in an instant. She shot to her feet, her voice high and shrill. “Fred, what is the meaning of this?” “Jason is only having dinner with you two because of me! You won’t even let him order what he wants? Are you trying to humiliate me?” She then whirled on me. “Anna! I told you to stop digging through the trash for a boyfriend!” The other diners were all staring at us. The situation was excruciatingly awkward. So awkward, in fact, that I started to hallucinate. What the hell? Why was there a line of glowing text floating above everyone’s head? 4 I rubbed my eyes hard. The text was still there, bigger and clearer than before. Jason pulled Maya back down, patting her shoulder with an air of good-natured patience. “Don’t be angry, honey. It’s my fault. This is just what I normally eat. I didn’t realize the prices would be a bit steep for them.” “How about this,” he continued. “We’ll skip the wine, but let’s keep the rest of the food.” Maya was a mess of distress and indignation. “How can we do that? You always like a little drink after dinner. I can’t let you change your habits for me.” The waiter stood there, holding the menu, looking utterly confused. Fred held out his phone. “I’m paying, so you’ll listen to me. We’ll have the group deal set menu. Here’s the voucher.” Maya jumped up again, furious. “Forget it! Who wants your stupid group deal? I can’t stand you broke losers. Jason, let’s go!” The group deal wasn’t exactly cheap. It was $1,288—a month’s worth of groceries for Fred and me. 5 They stormed out, leaving Fred and me staring at each other, with the bewildered waiter still standing beside our table. “Sir, should I still bring out the food?” I tilted my head up, squinting to read the text above his head: “Working Four Jobs to Survive.” Fred shook his head. “No, that’s alright. Thank you.” He then took my hand, his expression uncertain. “Anna, let’s go home?” he asked tentatively. I looked at him, really looked at him. Fred and I had been classmates in high school and college. In high school, he was the unattainable, handsome loner that every girl had a crush on. But right now, the text above his head was far more captivating than his handsome face. “Missing Heir to the Richest Family in the Country.” Did that mean what I thought it meant? As a devoted reader of web novels, I was very familiar with tropes like special abilities, system interfaces, and reincarnation. Could these words be… my superpower? The ability to see everyone’s true identity? I craned my neck, my eyes wide with excitement, and scanned the room. “Soon-to-be Bankrupt Heir.” “Housewife Addicted to Cheating.” “Pervert Who Likes Taking Upskirt Photos.” “Fugitive with a $500,000 Bounty.” Wait a minute. $500,000? 6 A whirlwind of nerves, excitement, doubt, and shock played across my face, scaring the hell out of Fred. He stood up, flustered, and started stammering an explanation. “Anna, I know what I did was embarrassing. But fifty thousand dollars… that’s enough to pay for your mom’s medicine for two years. I just couldn’t bring myself to spend it on one meal.” “Saving face is temporary. Living our lives responsibly is what matters. Please don’t be mad at me, okay?” I barely heard a word he said. My attention was entirely fixed on the fugitive. He was sitting in a corner, cutting into a steak. He wore large, black-framed glasses that obscured half his face, and his hat was pulled down low. When he heard the commotion from our table, he glanced over briefly before quickly looking away. “I’m just going to the restroom.” I tossed the words over my shoulder at Fred and walked towards the restrooms with a straight back, feigning nonchalance. Once inside a stall, I immediately dialed 911. There was a police station just a few blocks from the restaurant. I composed my face and walked out of the restaurant, then quickly ducked around a corner, my eyes glued to the entrance. Fred followed me, his face a mixture of worry and confusion. “Anna, what are you doing? Let’s just go home. I can make you some noodles.” “Shh, be quiet!” I clamped a hand over his mouth, my gaze never leaving the glass doors. Fred looked puzzled, but he didn’t ask any more questions. He just stood there quietly, waiting with me. The police arrived faster than I expected. Within five minutes, the restaurant was surrounded by squad cars. When the fugitive was led out in handcuffs, I saw the text above his head change: “Fugitive Apprehended.” 7 The whole night felt like a dream. Fred went with me to the police station to give a statement, and I signed the “Bounty Claim Confirmation” form. The female officer who took my statement was incredibly friendly. “Thanks to your timely call, we caught him just in time. He had a knife on him. His plan was to have one last nice meal, kill a few rich people, and then kill himself.” “You didn’t just help us catch a criminal; you saved several lives. The reward money should be in your bank account in about a week.” $500,000. Just like that. Fred was so excited his face was flushed, and he walked out of the station with a clumsy, uncoordinated gait. “Anna, you’re a genius! How did you know that guy was a fugitive?” I grinned and took his hand. “I’m just broke. When I have nothing to do, I scroll through wanted lists, hoping to get lucky and spot one. And what do you know, I actually did!” After the initial euphoria wore off, Fred finally calmed down. He cupped my face in his hands, his eyes full of concern. “Anna, you don’t have to push yourself so hard. I’ll work hard to give you a good life. What you did was so dangerous. What if he had noticed you?” I looked at the brightly glowing words above his head and thought, damn, this man is handsome. On the way home, Fred lectured me about the risks, imagining a hundred different ways it could have gone wrong. His worrying nearly put me to sleep. So much had happened that I had completely forgotten about Maya. Fred, exhausted, fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. I, on the other hand, stayed up half the night on my phone, researching the richest man in the country. The more I looked, the more confused I became. The billionaire’s last name was Sterling. He was a self-made man who started as a construction foreman and made his first fortune in real estate. But according to all reports, he only had one very private daughter. There was no mention of a son. And Fred… he didn’t look anything like Mr. Sterling. 8 The next morning, I was woken by a furious pounding on the door. I glanced at my phone. It was almost noon. Fred had already left for work. To make extra money, he had taken a weekend job, spinning like a top with no days off. On the table was the breakfast he had made for me. Bang! Bang, bang! The knocking continued, as if someone was trying to break the door down. I hurried to open it and was met with Maya’s fiery, enraged eyes. “Anna! It’s the middle of the day!” Above her head floated a few shimmering golden words. “Hopeless Romantic.” It was fitting. Maya was indeed a hopeless romantic, with a vast and varied dating history. In high school, she fell for her tutor. During college orientation, she fell for her drill instructor. After graduation, it was a senior colleague at her internship. She even managed to fall in love with her personal trainer at the gym. She met Jason because he was a major client for her company. She worked at an ad agency, and her boss had put her in charge of a new project. Before the project made any headway, she and Jason were already a couple. 9 “Anna, you need to break up with Fred. Right now!” Maya stormed into the apartment without even taking off her shoes, planted herself on the sofa with her hands on her hips, and glared at me. “I told you not to date a poor man, but you wouldn’t listen! What are you keeping him around for? A man who needs a group deal coupon to eat out? For God’s sake, have some standards!” Her baseless tirade completely soured my good mood. My face hardened. “Maya, what happened yesterday was Jason’s fault, wasn’t it? He knew we’re just regular office workers. Why did he order such an expensive bottle of wine? Anyone with manners knows you don’t order the most expensive thing on the menu when someone else is treating. It’s basic etiquette.” Normally, when someone is treating you, you politely pick something moderately priced and let the host take the lead. But Jason? He ordered the most expensive items without a second thought for whether we could afford it. Maya rolled her eyes and sneered. “What are you trying to say, Anna? Jason was just being nice! He was afraid you country bumpkins wouldn’t know how to order in a fancy restaurant, so he did it for you! Instead of thanking him, you’re turning it around on him. You’re not just poor, you’re petty too!” I couldn’t stand her constant use of the word “poor.” What was wrong with being poor? We didn’t steal or cheat. We worked hard for our money. We had never taken a single penny from anyone. 10 She wasn’t always like this. Maya and I had been best friends since kindergarten. We were in the same class through elementary, middle, and high school. We only separated when we went to different colleges. When we were kids, my parents worked long hours and often weren’t home until late. Maya would always invite me over for dinner and share her secret stash of snacks with me. The Maya I remembered was warm, kind, and loyal. When had she become this person? “Alright, alright, stop with the long face,” she snapped. “You’re breaking up with Fred, and I’ve already found your next boyfriend for you. He’s a friend of Jason’s, a multimillionaire. Go change. You’re having lunch with him.” I almost laughed out loud. I was about to retort when the door opened and Jason walked in, a look of disdain on his face. “Maya, what’s taking so long? Mr. Liu will be here at eleven. We can’t keep him waiting.” Maya’s face instantly broke into a flirtatious smile. “Jason, what are you doing here? We’ll be ready in a minute.” She turned and glared at me. “What are you waiting for? Go get changed! Wear that white dress you wore for your birthday. You look good in that one.”

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Six years after I cut off all contact with my parents, my adopted brother secretly reached out to my wife. He told her my parents missed me terribly and hoped we could all be a family again before it was too late. I touched the scar on my forehead. I got it when I was eight, the day my brother slammed a door on my hand, breaking the fingers I used to play the piano. When I tried to hit him back, my father stopped me. My wife, unable to bear the sight of my brother’s sad, puppy-dog eyes, tried to reason with me. “It’s ancient history, honey. Just let it go.” My daughter, clutching a new Barbie doll my parents had sent, chimed in, her voice indignant. “Daddy, I can’t live without my grandparents and my uncle! You have to make up with them! If you don’t, then I don’t want you to be my daddy anymore!” A wave of exhaustion washed over me. I nodded slowly. “Fine.” 1 The moment I handed her the divorce papers, Evelyn’s face was a mask of disbelief. “Just because I want you to make peace with your parents?” “Yes. Just because of that.” “What about our daughter? She’s only five. What’s going to happen to her?” Just then, our daughter, Chloe, charged into the room like a tiny bull, slamming into my leg. Pain shot up my shin. “You’re a monster, Daddy!” she shrieked. “Grandma and Grandpa didn’t raise you to be a monster!” I gritted my teeth against the pain. “Who taught you to talk like that?” Chloe looked guilty for a second, her eyes darting to my brother, Ethan, who was hiding behind the door. He’d been my father’s best friend’s son, and he’d lived with us since we were kids. “It’s my fault, big brother!” Ethan said, his voice dripping with faux innocence, a look I had come to despise. It was the same look that had gotten me into trouble countless times. “I was telling Chloe the story of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves, and she must have picked up a bad word.” But Evelyn and Chloe were already defending him. “Jacob, you’re always so busy with work. You can’t blame Ethan for helping to look after Chloe.” “Daddy, I love Uncle Ethan the most! If you’re mean to him, I don’t want you anymore!” I hadn’t said a word, but the two of them were already leaping to his defense. I saw a flicker of triumph in Ethan’s eyes, and the disgust and hatred in my gut reached a boiling point. 2 I didn’t waste any more words. I handed the pen to Evelyn. “Sign it. You’re free to be with whoever you want.” She looked at me, her eyes full of disappointment. “Can you please stop being so dramatic? I just want our daughter to have more family in her life. Your family.” My head felt like it was going to explode. I remembered when Ethan first came to live with us. My parents had told me, “You’re three months older than Ethan. From now on, you have a brother. You need to take care of him.” He wasn’t named Ethan then. My dad said since his parents had both died, he should take our last name. He was just a small, helpless little boy. I gave him my treasured comic books, the chocolates my mom bought for me, the toy cars my dad brought home. “Can I really think of this as my home from now on, big brother?” Ethan had asked, his eyes wide. I remembered my parents’ words and nodded. But from that day on, he was always on the verge of tears, always looking at me with a wounded expression. My parents thought I was bullying him. They called me selfish and gave all my things to him. When I was six and a half, my room became his. The bookshelf that held all my comics became his. When I was eight, the piano lessons I’d been taking for four years were canceled after Ethan “accidentally” slammed a door on my fingers. When I was twelve, my birthday party was replaced with a celebration for Ethan’s win at a dance competition. The cake was mango-flavored, his favorite. My parents took endless photos of him. No one remembered I was allergic to mangoes. When I was eighteen, I was forbidden from entering a math competition because, as my parents said, “We need to save that money to hire a better piano teacher for Ethan.” When I was twenty-two, years of malnutrition caught up with me. I developed a severe stomach condition that required expensive surgery. My parents refused to help. Instead, they bought business-class tickets to Europe to watch Ethan compete in a piano competition. I nearly died on the way to the hospital. That’s when I met Evelyn. She was horrified by my story and swore she would always be on my side. Six years later, she was the one asking me to let them all back into my life. 3 “I’m not signing this, Jacob,” Evelyn said, her voice firm. I ignored her and went to the bedroom to pack. In the back of the closet, I found a stash of expensive gifts. A master-crafted tea set, a high-end massage chair for the elderly, a pair of luxury leather shoes for men. They were well-hidden. Evelyn rushed in, as if she’d just remembered. “What is this?” she asked, the divorce papers still in her hand. She couldn’t meet my eyes. Chloe held up her Barbie doll, her voice smug. “Those are the presents Mommy bought for Grandma, Grandpa, and Uncle Ethan.” “And that’s not all, Daddy!” she taunted, sticking her tongue out. “You don’t get anything because you were bad!” She was trying to provoke me. I started walking toward her. Ethan ran in and shoved me back. “Don’t you dare touch Chloe! She’s their only grandchild! You have no right to hit her, even if you are her father!” That was the last straw. I grabbed his collar and punched him, hard. “Aah!” he screamed. Chloe immediately activated her smartwatch. “Daddy’s hitting Uncle Ethan! Grandma, Grandpa, come quick and teach him a lesson! Daddy’s a monster! I don’t want him to be my daddy anymore!” 4 I snatched the watch from her. Of course. They had a group chat. It was called “Chloe and her favorite Grandma, Grandpa, Mommy, and Uncle.” I was the only one left out. The chat was a lively, happy world without me. My daughter, who had stopped sharing her kindergarten stories with me, told them all about the new cute boy in her class. Evelyn, who had been coming home later and later from work, was taking Chloe to “family dinners” all the time. With her bonus, she had arranged for my parents to have full medical check-ups and had booked a European tour for Ethan. Everyone in the chat was so happy together. My father, who was always so stern with me, praised his granddaughter for being just like him, able to spot a bad guy a mile away. My mother, always so easily swayed, gushed about how beautiful and thoughtful Evelyn was, and how she wished Evelyn had met Ethan first. *“My son is getting so old, and he’s still not married. It’s so worrying.”* And then there was Ethan, of course. Calling Evelyn his “dear sister-in-law,” all shy and sweet. It had clearly melted Evelyn’s heart. She hadn’t bought me a gift in years, but she was constantly sending them money. “Jacob, let me explain,” Evelyn said, her voice pleading. She insisted she was just trying to pave the way for me to reconcile with my parents. “Ethan isn’t as bad as you say he is. Why can’t you just try to get along with them?” Get along? I couldn’t stop myself. I slapped her across the face. 5 Seeing me hit the two people she cared about most, Chloe went ballistic. She started kicking and punching me. “Grandpa was right! You’re a devil! You broke your own fingers and blamed it on Uncle Ethan! You deserve to have no one love you! Get out! Get out! I don’t want you as my father! I like Uncle Ethan better! So do Grandma and Grandpa and Mommy!” I was stunned. This was the daughter I had raised. I had made every single one of her baby food purees. I had bought every toy and picture book in this house. Evelyn was always busy with work; I was the one who put her to bed at night and took her to kindergarten in the morning. Five years of my life, poured into her. And this is what I got. “You deserve it.” It hurt. There’s no denying that. So I decided to just lay it all out. “Chloe, I’m only going to give you one chance to take that back.” “I won’t! I hate you! I don’t want you to be my dad! I want Uncle Ethan! He’s handsome, he can play the piano, and he gives me candy! I like him more than you!” Every parent is worried about cavities. I limited her sugar for her own good. Seeing the cold fury on my face, Evelyn tried to intervene. “She’s just a child, Jacob. Don’t take it so seriously.” In her eyes, a parent should always forgive their child, no matter what. In her eyes, she was doing this for my own good, trying to mend my broken family. I was the one making a scene, threatening divorce. But I couldn’t take it anymore. 6 “Jacob, why are you still so stubborn?” I thought I was dreaming. I could hear my parents’ voices. The front door opened. I had forgotten they had the code. Chloe ran to them, her face beaming. “Grandma, Grandpa, you’re finally here to punish Daddy!” Seeing them all standing there together, a happy family, my heart turned to ice. My mother looked at me with a hint of apology, but before she could speak, she saw Ethan, clutching his bruised face. “Ethan, who did this?” she shrieked, her face contorting with rage, like a lioness protecting her cub. My father’s voice boomed through the house. “Who else could it be! It had to be Jacob! Evelyn, get him out of this house! If we don’t teach him a lesson now, what if he hurts my precious granddaughter next?” Evelyn, playing the part of the dutiful daughter-in-law, tugged at my sleeve. “Honey, hitting people is wrong. Why don’t you just apologize?” She knew I had my bags packed, but she was still expecting me to back down. 7 I met Ethan’s triumphant gaze. A bitter smile touched my lips. “No matter what piece of trash I pick up, you just have to have it, don’t you?” He looked startled. “What are you talking about, big brother? I don’t understand.” My father grabbed my collar. “Jacob, I am ordering you to apologize. And don’t you dare threaten my wonderful daughter-in-law with divorce. She works so hard to support this family. If you have any guts, you’ll leave with nothing.” Evelyn tried to pull him off. “Dad, this is between me and Jacob. Please, don’t get involved.” “Hmph! If he hadn’t pretended to be sick all those years ago, you never would have missed Ethan’s performance. You two could have been together by now.” I shot a sarcastic look at Evelyn. No wonder the photo of a boy’s back in her desk drawer had looked so familiar. The boy who had taken her breath away. She had told me not to be jealous, that he didn’t even know she existed. Any last shred of feeling I had for her vanished. I signed the divorce papers and picked up my suitcase. Evelyn tried to stop me, but my parents held her back. Chloe clung to her mother’s leg. “Don’t worry about him, Mommy! He’s just a stay-at-home dad! He has nowhere to go! Grandma and Grandpa said he’ll come crawling back after a few days of being hungry.” While Evelyn hesitated, I walked out the door and didn’t look back.

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At sixteen, I had a sudden, horrifying realization: I was living inside a male power-fantasy novel. And I was cast as the hero’s gold-digger ex-girlfriend. The script said that after four years together, I would dump him for money. He would then rise to the top of the world, a new beautiful woman on his arm for every season, and eventually, he’d come back to rub his success in my face. But even after this revelation, I didn’t deviate from my life’s path. I still aced my way through the best high school, then into the top university. So when the eighteen-year-old hero-to-be stood before me, confessing his feelings, I gave him my most dazzling smile. “Alright,” I said. “But you should know, being Fiona Dursley’s boyfriend is a role you can be fired from.” 1 That one sentence lit a fire under him. Alfred Thorne became far more attentive than his character in the book. Beyond the standard ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’ texts, he was constantly asking me out. “I’m busy,” was my standard reply. The top two students in my major this semester would get a fully-funded opportunity to study abroad. It was a golden ticket, and I wasn’t about to let it slip through my fingers. The consequence was that Alfred only ever saw me in class. So today, he showed up before my lecture with a bouquet of flowers. “My dearest girlfriend,” he said, with a flourish, “would you trade this bouquet of red roses for the pleasure of having dinner with me?” Alfred was undeniably handsome, and the grand gesture had half the girls in the classroom swooning. “A boyfriend that hot bringing you flowers? You have to say yes!” someone whispered loudly. I gave the roses a brief, dismissive glance. “Maybe next time you buy flowers,” I said, my voice just loud enough for him to hear, “you should actually find out what kind your girlfriend likes.” The whole class knew. Someone had sent me roses once, and the allergic reaction had kept me out of school for a week. As my boyfriend, Alfred had managed to pick the one flower I actively despised. It turns out, if a person is shallow on the inside, a handsome face can only hold your interest for so long. Later that day, he cornered me outside the library. “Fiona, are you even serious about being my girlfriend?” he demanded. “We’ve been together for a month. How many times have we actually seen each other?” I held up the stack of textbooks in my arms. “I have to study. Is this news to you?” “And for the record, when I told you to perform well, I didn’t mean I wanted a puppy following me around.” I fixed him with a cool stare. “If you don’t finish this semester at the top of your class, we’re done.” For the hero of the story, this was hardly a challenge. But in the early chapters, he was committed to his whole ‘slacker genius’ act—brimming with talent but too cool to apply himself. He was saving the big reveal of his brilliance for the parade of future heroines. As for me, his starter girlfriend? Please. I wasn’t worth the effort. “Are you serious?” Alfred asked, his voice strained. I just rolled my eyes and walked into the library. 2 As I dove headfirst into my work, I could feel Alfred’s eyes on me from across the table. I ignored him. A man without discipline is a man without appeal. When he realized staring wasn’t working, he tried a different tactic. “Fiona, how do you solve this one?” I glanced at the problem he was pointing to and then looked at him as if he were an idiot. “If this is the level of question my boyfriend needs help with, you can leave.” Alfred flushed, realizing he’d picked something on par with ‘1+1=?’ He spent the next ten minutes hunched over his textbook, finally selecting a genuinely difficult problem. I didn’t brush him off. I took my time, walking him through the logic and the shortcuts to the solution. He started off paying attention to the textbook, but slowly, his gaze drifted from the page to my face. “Fiona…” I kept working on my own problem set. “What is it?” His cheeks were tinged with pink. “You’re not what I expected at all.” Of course not. He had been drawn to my face, immediately slotting me into the ‘trophy girlfriend’ category in his mind. I didn’t call him out on it. Instead, I asked, “And what did you expect?” Alfred thought for a moment. “Beautiful, charming… the center of attention.” “And now?” He opened a bottle of water and slid it across the table. I took it with a nod and had a few sips. “Now,” he said, his voice softer, “I see that you’re brilliant and hardworking. You have this… rational kind of charm.” I smiled and leaned across the table, stopping just before our noses touched. My eyes crinkled at the corners. “Good.” Then I went right back to my work, pointedly ignoring the way the tips of Alfred’s ears had turned a fiery red. Soon, the end of the semester was approaching, and the university decided to host an Arts Gala to help students de-stress. The class president came up to me, holding a student activity form. “Fiona, I heard you’re a dancer. Would you be interested in representing our class at the gala?” I remembered this part. In the original story, my sultry dance performance was what caught the eye of the rich heir. I declined. The class president was stunned. “Why not? You’d be amazing.” He pressed on, “You’re already so popular. If you perform, you’ll be the star of the show.” Perhaps. And in the rich heir’s eyes, I’d be no different from a club dancer he could proposition. “Because I’ve already signed up to be the host of the Arts Gala,” I replied politely. 3 I beat out all the other applicants for the hosting gig. But the faculty advisor was worried I’d get stage fright. “Your file says you can sing and dance, but there’s no mention of any hosting experience. You won’t have the same on-stage presence as the others.” “How about I find you a male co-host?” she suggested. “You can support each other, and it’ll take some of the pressure off.” I didn’t argue. “Professor, why don’t I do a run-through with your recommended co-host? We can go over the script and see how it works.” The result was, predictably, a disaster. The guy they’d picked had clearly been pulled in at the last minute with zero prep. With the advisor watching, I had no choice but to go through the entire program script by myself. When I finished, she applauded lightly. “Alright, then. I was worried you wouldn’t be able to carry the show alone, but you’ve proven me wrong.” I apologized to the would-be co-host. He blushed. “No, no, it’s fine! You were just… you were amazing, Fiona. I’ll work harder so maybe one day I’ll get the chance to share a stage with you.” As for why the university didn’t bother holding proper auditions for a male host? Because this was a male power-fantasy novel. All the female characters were props for the hero. Why would any other man get a chance to shine in the spotlight? Even the original host from the book, Laura, was just another conquest for the hero down the line. When Alfred heard I was hosting the gala, his first reaction was excitement. His second was jealousy. “Doesn’t that mean a ton of guys are going to be checking you out?” 4 I pinched his cheek. “Why don’t you ask if I’ll be checking any of them out?” Alfred pulled me into a hug. “I don’t care. You’re only allowed to look at me.” I subtly pushed him away. “That depends on whether you continue to measure up.” On the night of the gala, I abandoned my usual minimalist style. I went all out, renting a stunning evening gown from the university’s costume department. Even as the disposable ex-girlfriend, my looks were top-tier. Otherwise, the hero wouldn’t have spent half the book collecting women who bore a passing resemblance to me. The thought made my stomach turn. I walked onto the stage to a wave of applause and stunned silence. My beauty was an asset—one I wouldn’t overuse, but one I would never discard. The most intense gaze in the audience, of course, belonged to Alfred. But I couldn’t help but notice the man in the front row: Damian Sterling, the book’s secondary male lead. It was hard not to notice him. He and his bodyguards took up an entire row. His eyes were locked on me. I offered a polite, generic smile in his direction and then looked away. 5 After the show, Alfred came on stage with a huge bouquet of white roses. Great. More roses. He tried to hand them to me. “Fiona, I’m so proud of you.” I gave him a quick hug but didn’t take the flowers. Alfred looked confused. “You don’t like them? I made sure to get white roses this time, not red. I thought all women liked roses.” Just then, the rich heir, Damian, made his way onto the stage. “Excuse me for interrupting. Hello, I’m Damian Sterling.” He offered me a bouquet of pristine white tulips. “I feel tulips are a much better match for your elegance tonight, Miss Dursley.” I smiled and accepted the tulips. Alfred’s face started to darken. I tugged on his sleeve. “Alfred, darling, could you reimburse Mr. Sterling for the flowers? It was so kind of him to pick them up for me.” A grin spread across Alfred’s face. He pulled a wad of cash from his pocket and shoved it at Damian. “Thanks for the effort, but I’m perfectly capable of buying my own girlfriend flowers.” Damian just smirked. “You have to buy the right ones first.” I thanked him again to break the tension, then looped my arm through Alfred’s and led him backstage. Once we were alone, Alfred, practically bursting with pride, told me he’d turned down a girl who confessed her feelings to him today. “Who was it?” 6 “Laura. The girl who was also trying out to be the host.” So it was her. It seemed my presence in the competition had pushed her into the audience, where she’d met Alfred ahead of schedule and made her move. “And?” “I turned her down, of course,” Alfred said, puffing out his chest. “I already have the best girlfriend in the world.” Speak of the devil. The person handling the backstage cleanup was Laura herself. Her eyes immediately landed on our intertwined hands, her gaze sharp and assessing. “So you’re Fiona Dursley. Alfred’s girlfriend.” I just smiled and said nothing. Laura’s expression soured. “You’re lucky to have a boyfriend like him.” “It’s not her who’s lucky, it’s me,” Alfred interjected, leaning his head toward me. I gave his hair a perfunctory ruffle. “Such a good boy.” Laura looked like she’d been slapped. She dropped what she was doing and ran out, tears welling in her eyes. Once she was gone, Alfred’s smile faded. “Fiona, the reason you didn’t take my roses… is it because you really don’t like them?” I nodded. “That’s right.” He tightened his grip on my hand. “Next time, even if you don’t like them, can you just take them anyway?” I pulled my hand back, my own expression turning cold. Without another word, I started walking toward my dorm. Alfred rushed after me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant… in front of your other admirers, could you give me a little…” I stopped and turned. “A little what?” He wrapped his arms around me. “A little face.” Just then, Damian Sterling happened to be walking by. I tilted Alfred’s chin up and kissed him. Right in Damian’s line of sight. “Was that enough for you?” 7 Alfred’s face was as red as a ripe apple. He stood there, completely stunned, but his eyes shot a triumphant glare at Damian. “Childish,” I muttered. By the end of the semester, Alfred and I were the campus’s model couple. Everything seemed to be going perfectly. But then, a plot twist that wasn’t in the original script appeared. The university was offering a full scholarship for the top two students in our department to study abroad. Originally, Alfred and I were tied for first place, both securing a spot. But my advisor had just sent me a message. There had been a change. Because of Damian Sterling’s family connections, the department had decided to add him to the list. Which meant that either Alfred or I would be cut. Honestly, someone with Damian’s background didn’t need a university scholarship. If he wanted to study abroad, he had a dozen better options. It made no sense for him to pull strings for this one, small opportunity. It was a power play, designed to force Alfred and me to come to him. And in that moment, I realized just how powerless I was. Until Alfred had his big hero moment and leveled up, Damian was effectively the second protagonist of this world. He had the power to crush anyone. Against him, I had no moves to make. I told Alfred about the situation. He was silent for a long moment, then looked at me. “Let’s just give up, Fiona,” he said. “We don’t have to try so hard.” It was like a splash of cold water to the face. I finally understood my mistake. Compared to the hero of the story, blessed with endless good fortune, I was just a disposable stepping stone. Now that I was aware of the plot, how could I possibly have expected him to be my support? 8 I accepted Damian Sterling’s invitation. Studying abroad would allow me to build my own network, to create a bigger future for myself. I had no reason to give that up. If the plot remained unchanged, the domestic market would one day belong to Alfred. My only move was to carve out my own territory overseas. Damian had chosen an absurdly luxurious and stylish cafe. His first words to me were, “Will you be my girlfriend?” “No,” I replied instantly. He was taken aback. “Then why did you agree to meet me today?” He quickly recovered, smiling. “Don’t be so quick to refuse. You can think it over while you enjoy your coffee.” I didn’t say anything. I simply picked up my cup, inhaled the aroma, and then proceeded to add a generous amount of sugar and cream. Damian raised an eyebrow. “That’s pure Blue Mountain coffee, you know.” The implication was clear: I was ruining it. I decided it wasn’t sweet enough and added another sugar cube. “I’m not a fan of making things difficult for myself.” “I came here today to tell you that I am willing to go abroad with you. I am not, however, willing to become your girlfriend.” Damian took a slow sip of his own coffee. “But… if you’re not my girlfriend, why would I give you this opportunity?” I played my next card. “I will break up with Alfred.” I let that hang in the air for a second. “Not to be with you. But to give you an opportunity to pursue me.” Damian burst out laughing. “That is the most interesting proposition I’ve heard all year.” I said nothing more. I just left my contact information on the table. “Let me know when you’ve made a decision. This offer won’t last forever.” I stood up to leave. “You have until tomorrow morning.” I was betting on two things: Damian’s arrogance, and the narrative’s relentless drive to separate me and Alfred. It was a gamble I had to take. 9 Even before I got a confirmation from Damian, I sent Alfred the breakup text. He rushed to my dorm, standing outside the building. It was funny, in a sad way. It was the first time he’d ever come here on his own initiative. He stood there all night, causing a campus-wide spectacle. Finally, worn down by the unspoken pressure from my roommates, I went down to see him. His eyes were bloodshot, his face gaunt. He looked utterly heartbroken. “You’re breaking up with me for this scholarship?” he asked, his voice rough. “You’re going to dump me and run off with that rich guy?” “Not exactly,” I corrected him. “The scholarship is the immediate cause, yes. But the root cause is this: you’re lazy and you have no backbone. You don’t meet the standards for the next phase of my life.” “Next phase?” he repeated blankly. I nodded. “People are supposed to strive for better things. Just because you’re content to coast doesn’t mean I have to accept it. Besides, when this whole thing with Damian came up, what did you do? You stood there and told me to just let it go, spouting nonsense about how things will work themselves out.” “What else did you do?” “That doesn’t mean I have no backbone,” he said, his voice cracking. “I love you. I just don’t want to see you struggle.” I threw my hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Exactly.” “So I’m not struggling anymore. I’m breaking up with you.”

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The night my nemesis, Angelica Monroe, made her grand return to New York, Wyatt Hayes—heir to half of Manhattan, it seemed—materialized at JFK. The society pages practically exploded. Before the ink was dry, rumors of their rekindled romance were the headline on every gossip blog. For the next two weeks, my social media feed was a minefield of their shared existence. Paparazzi shots of them slipping into the same exclusive Soho high-rise.“Sources close to the couple” spilling saccharine details of their reunion. Then, a photo I’d tried to forget resurfaced: me, presenting Wyatt with a birthday cake last year. It became the internet’s favorite punchline. “All those years Nina Parker spent chasing after Wyatt, and it took Angelica one day to get him back.” “Honestly, they should just get married already. Then maybe these desperate wannabes would stop buzzing around him like flies.” Angelica posted a picture to her private Instagram, a calculated leak of two hands clasped together, captioned with sickeningly sweet text: “We took the long way, but I’m so glad we found our way back to each other.” To make it easier for the star-crossed lovers, I packed my bags, left a signed divorce agreement on the bed, and walked away. The result? A complete and utter meltdown from the man in question. A voicemail, choked with something that sounded suspiciously like a sob, accused me, “When other guys get dragged through the mud online, their wives have their backs. You just leave. How could you be so cruel?” 1. My flight back from a business trip landed at the same time as Angelica’s triumphant return from Europe. Years apart had done nothing to dim her shine. She was still effortlessly incandescent, the kind of woman who becomes the gravitational center of any room she enters. The news of her split with Wyatt before she left had been the talk of the town. Now that she was back, every reporter with a pulse was scrambling for the scoop. A swarm of them surrounded her, a cacophony of questions and flashing cameras choking the exit. I pulled my mask up higher, sinking into the collar of my coat, and tried to slip past unnoticed. The last thing I needed was for her to recognize me. We’d been rivals since kindergarten, a constant, petty war of attrition waged over grades, friends, and social standing. But all our childhood squabbles paled in comparison to the one truly staggering fact: her first love was now my husband. A year after she left the country, Wyatt and I got married. This is the third year of our secret marriage. I overheard two journalists who hadn’t managed to break through the scrum, whispering excitedly beside me. “I got a shot of Wyatt Hayes’s car. That’s the real story.” “What’s he doing at the airport this late?” “What do you think? He hasn’t seriously dated anyone since Angelica. The queen is back; the king has to show up and kiss the ring, right?” My fingers, wrapped around the handle of my suitcase, went numb with cold. My flight was supposed to be tomorrow morning. Wyatt had changed it. “We have a family thing tomorrow,” he’d said. “Come back tonight.” He told me he was busy, that he’d sent his assistant to pick me up. “Are you sure it was him? It’s dark out.” “A license plate like that? In this city? My eyes might be shot, but my ten-thousand-dollar camera lens isn’t. Just wait. Tomorrow’s headlines are going to be epic.” The assistant, driving a nondescript black sedan, greeted me with a respectful, “Mrs. Hayes.” But his eyes wouldn’t quite meet mine, and I could practically smell the guilt rolling off him. “Is Wyatt still working?” “Yes… but Mr. Hayes said he’ll be home to see you tonight…” It was one in the morning. Wyatt Hayes didn’t work late. Ever. The subtext was loud and clear: He’ll be home eventually. Don’t ask where he’s been. 2. When Wyatt and I got married, we kept it quiet. Outside of our parents and a few close friends, no one knew. My mother complained about it privately. “The Hayes family is wonderful, yes, but to have my daughter marry in secret after I’ve raised her for twenty-something years… It just doesn’t sit right with me.” But this was the man I’d been in love with for more than a decade. No one knew the electric shock of joy that went through me when I heard he and Angelica had broken up. And no one could possibly understand how my heart hammered against my ribs when his father, drunk at a dinner party, started playing armchair matchmaker. For me, all the pomp and circumstance in the world couldn’t compare to the moment Wyatt nodded his assent. The secret marriage was my idea. The night before we went to City Hall, I found him with a friend who was teasing him. “The second news of this wedding gets out, Angelica’s going to be on the first flight back to New York.” Wyatt was lighting a cigarette and didn’t answer. When he saw me walk in, he just smiled, as if nothing had happened, and wrapped an arm around my waist. I met the friend’s shocked gaze as I gently plucked the cigarette from between Wyatt’s lips. “Let’s not announce our marriage to anyone,” I said. “I have no interest in being the catalyst for someone else’s drama.” From the very first day, I was honest with him about everything, except for the small fact that I’d loved him for most of my life. I told him flat-out that I couldn’t stand Angelica. I told him I was in this to build a real life with him. “I can accept that it will take time for you to get to know me, to maybe even grow to love me,” I’d said, my voice steadier than I felt. “But I cannot accept being with you if your heart is still with someone else. If you can’t do that, we should end this now, before it begins.” I remember he laughed, a low, soft sound. Then he dipped his head and his mouth found mine in a deep, possessive kiss. Just like now. He understood exactly what I was saying. He turned to his friend, a lazy grin playing on his lips. “You hear that? Watch what you say next time.” The next day, he made sure every detail was locked down. The city clerk came to our apartment to officiate. So, no, I couldn’t blame the internet for their speculation. But seeing that photo—the one of his car at JFK—still felt like a punch to the gut. The reporter claimed to have been in the car right next to his. I zoomed in on the image, and through the dark, tinted window, I could have sworn I saw the silhouette of his profile. Below it was a clip of Angelica’s airport interview. Someone had asked, feigning innocence, “It’s so late, Miss Monroe. Do you have someone special picking you up?” A blush bloomed across her perfect face. She answered with a coy little smile, “That’s a secret.” There’s nothing more dangerous than a half-answer and a well-timed coincidence. Together, they plant a seed of doubt that grows, twisting your thoughts down paths you can’t control. In that moment, I forgot the fierce, desperate way he’d made love to me when he got home, pressing his forehead to mine and murmuring that I was cruel for leaving him all alone. All I could remember was that he didn’t get home until three in the morning. I remembered the faint, sweet scent of roses clinging to his clothes. And I remembered how the gossip, which had been the top headline when I woke up, was scrubbed from the internet within half an hour, the search terms completely blocked. And his quiet phone call to his assistant, when he thought I was still asleep. “Get every mention of it taken down. If any of this gets out, it’ll be bad for her.” For her. Not for us. 3. Throughout the entire family dinner, Wyatt acted completely normal. I hated myself for it, but I just sat there, quiet. The old me would have thrown down my fork and started a fight right then and there. Back then, I thought I could stick to my principles: no matter how much you love a man, you always put yourself first. Now, I found I couldn’t even bring myself to ask the question. I was terrified he’d say yes. That’s when the humiliation would truly become unbearable. Wyatt was the first to finish. He stood, put on his jacket, said a quick goodbye to his parents, and then turned to me. “I’ve already spoken to the driver. He’ll take you home in a bit. I have something this afternoon.” He used to tell me where he was going. He never would have left me alone at a family event. He’d never said the words “I love you” outright, but for three years, his actions had screamed them. He was attentive, thoughtful to a fault. He remembered every anniversary, never let a word I said fall on deaf ears, and was so attuned to my moods he could preemptively avoid anything that might upset me. He had a wonderful temper, gently absorbing all my rough edges and bad habits. When I made a mistake, he never got angry. He’d just smile, smooth back my hair, and patiently show me the right way. So I believed he loved me. No one could be that patient, that tender, with someone they didn’t love. But I’d forgotten one crucial, fatal detail. Wyatt Hayes was a good person to his core. He was good to everyone. I just happened to have the title of “wife,” which meant he was simply better to me. I didn’t know it then, but that absurd thought, one I would have scoffed at just weeks ago, would soon wrap around me like a venomous snake. From that day on, Wyatt was always out early and back late. The only constant was the good morning kiss he’d demand before he left, a ritual he never skipped. I tried to use these “habits” of his to soothe the growing anxiety in my chest, but every day was a battle, oscillating between the urge to confront him and the need to stay silent. Sleep became a distant memory. One night, I tossed and turned so much I woke him. He wrapped his arms around me from behind, his lips warm against my neck. “Is it that time of the month? Is that why you can’t sleep? Does it help if I hold you?” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. Tears immediately pricked my eyes. I had always told myself I would never become one of those women, clinging and emotional, letting unfounded suspicions drive me crazy. But this was different. This was a real sense of crisis, the very feeling I used to look down on with such disdain. My mind was a slideshow of the “relationship details” Angelica had made sure I’d see, of the genuine affection I’d witnessed between them years ago. And the undeniable fact that she was the one who had ended things… “Wyatt…” “When you get back from your trip, let’s talk.” I fought to keep my voice even. I had to talk to him, openly. Whether he went to the airport or not, whatever his reasons were, I just needed an answer that would silence the storm of doubt in my head. He was so tired his eyes could barely stay open. He just nuzzled his head against mine and mumbled, “Mmm.” But we never got the chance to have that calm, rational conversation. 4. Wyatt had a five-day business trip. His flight was early, but he made a point of waking me up just to tie his tie. “You seem a little down lately. Is everything okay? When I get this deal closed, I’ll take you somewhere, just the two of us.” He was always like this—so attuned to my every emotion, always ready to give me the best of everything within his power. It was how he’d slowly dismantled my defenses, making me love him more, making me need him more, with each passing day. I didn’t want to start something right before he left. I shook my head and used work as an excuse, cutting off any further questions. For a split second, I even allowed myself to wonder if I was just imagining it all. That afternoon, an anonymous account posted on a gossip forum. No text, no commentary. Just two pictures, time-stamped, showing Wyatt and Angelica entering the same luxury apartment building in Soho, one after the other, late at night. The comments section exploded. Congratulations and shock in equal measure. “Oh my god, I knew they’d get back together!” “Didn’t she dump him? And he waited all these years? He’s willing to forgive that?” “You don’t get it. True love conquers all, duh.” Of course, there were a few skeptics. “These two pictures don’t really prove anything…” The original poster replied to only that one comment: “I have more. Just wait.” I saw the post late at night. A few minutes later, it was gone. I don’t know how to describe the feeling. I felt like a dying fish on a scorching sidewalk, my body wracked with shivers. For the next several days, the anonymous account posted new photos at the same time every night. Different outfits, same building, same pattern of entering one after the other. Then, as if on cue, a self-proclaimed “friend” of Angelica’s posted a screenshot of a vague, yet pointed, Instagram story: “So glad we found our way back to each other. ” I would recognize that profile picture anywhere. It had been rotting in my block list for years. Angelica and I had fought countless times, but I had never gone so far as to block her completely. That had happened years ago, the day she sent me a picture of Wyatt kissing her on the cheek, with a taunting message: “He’s not so hard to get, is he? To think you’ve been hung up on him for so long.” “If you put half the energy you spend fighting with me into chasing guys, you might not be so alone.” “Then again… even if you gave it your all with Wyatt, he’d still choose me. Hahaha.” “Nina, you’ll always be second best. Always.” For the first time, I didn’t fight back. I just stared at that picture, over and over, a pain like a physical blade twisting in my chest. The person I had cherished for more than a decade was, to someone else, just a game. What hurt even more was her willingness to use her sweet moments with him as a weapon to crush me. So, just as she’d predicted, I retreated like a defeated soldier. I deleted their numbers, blocked their accounts, and avoided any party or event where I might run into them. I never imagined that, years later, the same tactics would be used against me again, this time with a single, fatal blow that felt like a thousand arrows piercing my heart. 5. I hadn’t slept in days. I had no appetite, no energy for work. Every day, I stared at my phone, a self-destructive ritual of waiting for them to drop the next “big story.” I tried to invent a million other possibilities, clinging to any shred of hope, but when Angelica’s interview was released, that hope turned to ash. As the country’s youngest rising star in jewelry design, and with her family name and the gossip swirling around her, it wasn’t hard for her to find a spotlight. “Angelica, we’ve been hearing whispers of some good news lately. We all think you and he are a perfect match. Will you let us in on it when the time is right?” “I really didn’t expect to be photographed,” she’d said, a picture of demure surprise. “He’s always been very private about his personal life. As long as we’re happy behind the scenes, that’s what matters. But of course, if there’s any real news, you’ll be the first to know!” Her friend chimed in on the gossip forum right on schedule: “They’ve been through so much. He’s so devoted. The night she flew back, he waited at the airport for her until two in the morning. And he’s spent the last few weeks running around, helping her get settled in her new place. He’s been so incredibly attentive. True love can’t be broken.” My mind went numb. A dull, throbbing pain started in my chest, a suffocating weight pressing down on me. So all those days he was leaving early and coming home late, all those nights my calls went straight to voicemail… he was with Angelica? I thought back to my birthday last year. Because I’d mentioned wanting to see the ocean, he’d rented out an entire private island. He spent a fortune on a drone light show to celebrate. For three days and two nights, we were tangled together, the sound of the waves a constant backdrop to our lovemaking. He’d told me then, “Nina, I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” In all my twenty-something years, I had never felt a moment of happiness so pure. A lifetime, he’d said. How could I reconcile that with this? How could I just let it go? I leaned against the wall and sobbed, a raw, wrenching sound that tore through my body until I was numb. My imagination ran wild, each thought a sharpened blade, flaying me alive, piece by piece. I couldn’t breathe. My hands fumbled through the medicine box on the nightstand, searching for something, anything, to calm the frantic beating of my heart. But before I could find it, the world went black, and I collapsed. I woke up in the hospital. It was five in the morning. The woman who cooks for us had found me and brought me here. The doctor said the extreme emotional distress had triggered a somatic symptom disorder. Our housekeeper, murmuring prayers of thanks, said she was going to call Wyatt to let him know I was okay. I reached out and stopped her. When I opened my phone, I saw a message from a friend: “What the hell is wrong with people online? Why don’t you just ask Wyatt what’s going on? You’ve been married for three years, and they’re still trying to pair him up with a girlfriend on the internet!” She’d sent a screenshot of the thread where my birthday picture had been posted. “I thought this was the real one? Their parents have known each other for decades.” “LMAO, I know her. Go ask her at work tomorrow if you want. That Nina Parker has been drooling over Wyatt for ages. Has he ever once acknowledged her? Look at how long Angelica has been back. He’s tripping over himself for her. He wants this.” “I agree. The handsome guy and the beautiful girl should just get married already. It would save us from all these flies trying to bother them!” I didn’t reply. I just waited quietly for the IV drip to finish. I didn’t want to think anymore. I was disgusted with the person I’d become. It was five in the afternoon when I got home. Wyatt was already back. He didn’t know I’d been in the hospital. He’d sent me a text when he got home: “Why aren’t you picking up your phone? Are you swamped with work?” “I’m heading home to get some rest. I’ll have the driver pick you up this afternoon.” He was fast asleep, clutching my pillow, so exhausted he was snoring lightly. My eyes fell on his briefcase. A file was sticking out. I pulled it out. A purchase agreement for a condo. In the exact same building he’d been photographed at. Everything clicked into place. Holding my breath, I quietly packed my things. I never thought it would end like this. After leaving the divorce papers on his nightstand, I finally broke down in the elevator, my sobs echoing in the small, silent space.

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My lease was up after three years, and my landlord refused to renew. I was scrambling to find a new place, which is a nightmare in this city. My best friend, Maya, saw the apartment listing online and was furious on my behalf. “This landlord is a total psycho,” she grumbled, scrolling through the pictures on her phone. “You offered to pay more, and you’ve kept the place spotless. Why is he so desperate to rent to someone else?” Impulsively, she stabbed the “call” button on the listing, planning to mess with him a little. But when the call connected, we both froze. The voice that answered was my boyfriend’s. 1 Maya had him on speaker. A familiar “Hello?” came through the phone. The voice was quiet, but it hit me like a lightning bolt. It was my boyfriend, Leo. I couldn’t believe it. I reached out to stop Maya, but my hand hovered uselessly over the screen. We just stared at each other, stunned. “Hello?” he said again, a little louder this time. Maya recovered first. Clearing her throat, she pinched her nose to disguise her voice. “Hi, are you the landlord for apartment 1204 at The Goldcrest?” “Yes, I am.” She shot me a look, then continued, “I saw your listing online, and I—” “Sorry,” he cut her off, “the apartment’s already taken. Someone put down a deposit.” He hung up. Maya shot up from the couch and threw her phone onto the cushions. “Holy crap! The apartment you’ve been renting for three years… the landlord is Leo?” she exclaimed. “This is like something out of a bad movie!” 2 The shock started to wear off, replaced by a cold, sinking feeling. I opened my utility app and pulled up the account for my apartment. Under “Account Holder,” it read: L. Hayes. Next, I called the building management office and asked for the owner’s name for my unit, pretending I needed it for a renter’s insurance claim. “The owner is Leo Hayes,” the woman on the phone confirmed cheerfully. I slumped onto the floor, the strength draining out of me. I leaned against the side of the bed, motionless. When I first signed the lease, the landlord had to reschedule at the last minute. I had a conflict and couldn’t make the new time, so Leo offered to go and sign the paperwork for me. I never once saw the owner’s information. Later, when I saw the name on the utility bill, I’d even joked with him about how common his name was. Looking back, I felt like the world’s biggest idiot. He was collecting rent from me, his girlfriend, for an apartment he owned. He was using me to pay his mortgage, while also crashing at “my” place whenever he wanted. It was a flawless setup, and I had been completely clueless. Maya’s words cut right to the bone. “That’s some next-level scheming. He’s got you paying off his mortgage, and he gets to live there for free. Girl, you’re not his girlfriend, you’re his sugar mama.” 3 My phone buzzed. It was a text from Leo, sent ten minutes ago. [Hey, I’m off work. On my way to pick you up so we can go apartment hunting.] He’d been telling me for weeks that he was about to be sent on a work trip for the better part of a month. He was worried I wouldn’t have time to find a place and move before he left. He kept pushing me to find something quickly so he wouldn’t have to “worry about me” while he was gone. It wasn’t concern. He was just in a hurry to get me out so he could get his next tenant in. A hot wave of anger washed over me. I almost called him right then and there to confront him. But Maya stopped me, a frown on her face. “Doesn’t this seem weird to you?” she asked. “You offered to pay more rent, and he still said no. Why do you think that is?” The answer hit me like a punch to the gut. He already had a new tenant lined up. And he was about to break up with me. The rental listing wasn’t for just anyone. It was for her. The girl he was cheating on me with. 4 In Leo’s car, I took Maya’s advice and tried to act normal, like nothing had happened. “You know,” I said casually, “I heard the apartment across the hall from me just went up for rent. Maybe I should just take that one. It would save me the trouble of moving everything.” I watched his face closely. I didn’t miss the flicker of panic in his eyes. “But you’ve always complained about the noise in that building,” he said, trying to sound reasonable. “This is a great chance to find a quieter place.” A sarcastic smile touched my lips. “I’ve lived there for three years. I’m used to the kids upstairs running around. It’s like a white noise machine at this point. I’d probably have trouble sleeping without it.” He chuckled, but it sounded forced. “What are you, a masochist? Don’t get attached to a bad situation. Come on, let’s find you a better place. It’s so loud, I swear the mom upstairs is always screaming at her kids whenever we’re trying to have a moment. It’s not exactly a mood-setter.” His words were like poison, every syllable a lie. I dug my fingernails into my palms, trying to keep my composure. 5 Leo and I met in college. He pursued me for a year before I finally agreed to go out with him our sophomore year. He was a local; I was from a small town a thousand miles away. I’d always assumed we’d break up after graduation. But then I landed an internship at a top ad agency right here in the city. It was a dream opportunity. I told him the good news, and he was ecstatic. “That’s amazing!” he’d said. “You can stay here! We don’t have to break up!” He helped me search for an apartment. Since he knew the city, I trusted his judgment. He was the one who sent me the link to the apartment I ended up renting. To be honest, I wasn’t thrilled with it when the realtor showed it to us. The walls were paper-thin. You could hear every stomp and crash from the family upstairs. I told Leo I thought we should keep looking, but he was unusually insistent. With all the other places we’d seen, he’d been the picky one, finding fault with the lighting, the amenities, the security. But this place, despite the obvious flaw, he loved. He argued that for the location and the price, it was the best we’d find. “If it weren’t for the noise,” he’d said, “the rent would be way higher.” At the time, it made sense. I was on a tight budget, and it really was a good deal. So, I took it. Looking back, I finally understood why he was so determined for me to live in that specific apartment. 6 The real estate agent showing us apartments today was the same woman from three years ago, a friendly, middle-aged local who owned her own small agency. After three hours of looking, I hadn’t liked a single place. No matter how much Leo tried to sell me on them, I found something wrong with each one. He was starting to get frustrated. “What exactly are you looking for?” he asked, his patience wearing thin. “Your lease is up in a week.” “If I can’t find anything, I’ll just crash with Maya for a while,” I said calmly. “I’m not in a rush. I want to find a place I actually like.” He frowned. “But we’ve seen all the suitable listings this agency has.” “Then we’ll find another agency,” I said with a shrug. Leo’s jaw tightened. “The agent has spent all afternoon with us. You can’t just ghost her now. That’s not right.” The agent quickly jumped in. “It’s no problem at all! We have plenty of other options. We’ll take our time. The right place will come along.” I looked at her then, really looked at her, and then back at Leo. A strange thought popped into my head. They looked alike. They had the same eyes. 7 The next day, I was sitting in a coffee shop waiting for Maya when I noticed a striking, long-haired girl at the table next to me. She was on the phone with a real estate agent, scheduling a time to sign a lease. After she hung up, she stood to leave and collided with Maya, who was rushing in with a coffee in each hand. The girl’s white dress was now covered in latte. Maya’s phone clattered to the floor, the screen shattering. I rushed over to help Maya apologize. The girl was surprisingly gracious and didn’t make a fuss. I insisted on getting her Venmo to pay for the dry cleaning. Back at our table, while I was sending the money, I casually said to Maya, “Why were you in such a hurry? You wrecked your phone.” As I opened the Venmo app, a little red dot appeared on my Instagram icon. A new story. I tapped on it instinctively. It was the girl from the coffee shop. [Found my new place! Ready for some sweet cohabitation adventures ~] The location tag was unmistakable: The Goldcrest. My building. Just then, Maya’s voice, loud and sharp, broke through my daze. “Oh my god! You are not going to believe what I found out!” she exclaimed. “That real estate agent? She’s Leo’s mom!” “This whole family is running a goddamn romance scam on you!” 8 After our apartment hunting trip, that crazy thought about the agent wouldn’t leave me alone. To check it out, I’d asked Maya’s mom to pay a visit to the real estate agency. Maya’s family was also local, and her mom could talk the ear off a statue. She could get a stranger’s life story in five minutes flat. Maya chugged a glass of iced tea, not even pausing for breath. “So, my mom went in pretending to be a buyer,” she reported. “She and the agent hit it off, started calling each other ‘sis.’ The agent even pulled out her phone and showed my mom pictures of her son. I showed my mom a picture of you and Leo, and she said, yup, that’s him. The agent’s son is Leo.” I’d been with Leo for five years, and I’d never met his parents. He told me they were business owners who lived out of state, in Arizona. He said they rarely came back, and he always flew out there for the holidays. And he did disappear for a few days every Christmas, always returning with some turquoise jewelry or a bag of local coffee for me. I never had a reason to doubt him. How many of his stories were lies? On a sweltering summer day, a chill ran down my spine. 9 “So then,” Maya continued, “my mom starts gushing about what a catch her son is and asks if he has a girlfriend, saying she has a niece who would be perfect for him. My mom is a master bullshitter. She invented a whole fake niece on the spot, from a super-rich family, and you could see the agent’s eyes light up.” Maya rolled her eyes. “And guess what she said? She said her son has a great job, owns his own place, drives a nice car, makes six figures, and has a great personality. The only thing missing is a girlfriend.” I laughed, a bitter sound. “Owns a place and a car, sure. Six figures is a stretch.” “Totally! Six figures my ass. He wishes.” He’d bought a used BMW his second year of work. The apartment was a small one-bedroom in a mid-rise building. He was a software developer at a mid-sized tech company. His salary was nowhere near “six figures.” His mom was really puffing him up to land a rich girl. 10 “So basically,” Maya said, her voice full of indignation, “you’ve been with him for five years, and his mom doesn’t even think you’re good enough for him. No wonder you’ve never met her.” My parents owned a small dermatology clinic in my hometown. It was a comfortable life, but nothing fancy. Leo must have told his mom about my family, and she’d written me off as not good enough. Leo was never serious about me. He was just keeping me around until something better came along. And instead of just breaking up with me, he and his mother were using me to pay his mortgage. And now, they were about to do the same thing to the next girl. 11 My phone vibrated, pulling me out of my thoughts. It was the girl from the coffee shop, accepting my Venmo payment. A second later, another message came through. [Hey, I saw your Instagram story. Small world! I’m the next tenant for your apartment!] I was stunned. I typed back quickly. [That’s crazy! When did you see the place?] [Last Sunday. The agent let me in. She said you were at work.] My lease wasn’t up for another week. He hadn’t even bothered to tell me he was showing the apartment. He just waited for me to be gone. He really couldn’t wait to get me out. She asked me a few questions about the apartment. [Can I ask you something privately? I loved the place, but is the noise from upstairs really bad?] I told her the truth about the thin walls. [Yeah, that’s what I was worried about,] she replied. [But my boyfriend really loves the location. It’s super close to his work. So I decided to take it.] I asked the million-dollar question. [Does your boyfriend work at the tech company nearby?] She confirmed it. I then asked her, trying to sound casual, if the agent who showed her the apartment was Leo’s mom. The answer she sent back was exactly what I expected. I didn’t need to ask anything else. I knew. Leo was her boyfriend. He and his mom were running the same scam all over again. 12 “Hello? Earth to Jane?” Maya said, waving a hand in front of my face. “What are you staring at? Did you hear a word I said?” I held up my phone and let her read the messages. Her eyes grew wider with every line. “No way! That girl from the coffee shop is Leo’s side piece?” she gasped. “And his mom showed her the apartment while you were at work!” I thought about it. “I don’t think she knows about me,” I said. “She seemed totally normal when she saw me. Leo probably told her he was single.” A thought occurred to me, and I quickly typed another message. [Have you signed the lease yet?] [Not yet, I’m signing it tomorrow.] [Don’t sign it!] I typed, my fingers flying. [Why not?] I sent her a picture of me and Leo, smiling together on vacation. Then, I typed out the truth, one word at a time. [Because he’s a liar.]

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The day before my wedding, the car I was in drove through a freak temporal anomaly. Eight hours for me was twenty years for the world. When the police asked if I had any family they could contact, I stared out the window at a billboard featuring my fiancé’s face and shook my head. “No one. My parents are gone. I have no one left.” The moment he pushed open the precinct doors, words scrolled across my vision, like comments on a livestream. 【Luna, hurry up and tell him who you are! Your fiancé is a titan of industry now.】 【The one that got away is back! Kick out that cheap replacement he married, and you’ll be set for life.】 They said he had become one of Crestview’s elite, that in twenty years, he had never forgotten me. I looked at the man before me, a stranger in a tailored suit, and my voice was hollow. “Who are you? I don’t know you.” 1 With bloodshot eyes, Lucas Hart crushed me in an embrace. “Luna, you’re finally back!” I fought my way out of his arms, my voice sharp and final. “Sir, I think you have the wrong person. I don’t know you.” He stood there, clad in a bespoke suit, a ridiculously expensive Rolex glinting on his wrist, his red-rimmed eyes locked on me. Across my vision, the ghostly comments flew by, lamenting the fortune I was so foolishly turning away. But they didn’t know. I’d lived this life before. In my last life, I had thrown myself into his arms in this very police station, weeping with joy. It was a joy that soured into the cruelest of tragedies. Lucas took a step forward, reaching for me again, but I flinched away. The officer beside me moved between us, his posture wary. “Mr. Hart, what exactly is your relationship to this woman?” Lucas’s gaze never left my face, a storm of emotions churning in his eyes before settling into a quiet calm. It was a long moment before he spoke. “Her parents were my mentors. I suppose that makes me something of a big brother to her.” The comments erupted again, insisting he was just easing me into the truth, using the “brother” angle so as not to overwhelm me. I lowered my eyes, a bitter smile touching my lips. I should have known. He wouldn’t acknowledge me as his fiancée. That girl was supposed to be a memory, tucked away and cherished, not a living, breathing complication. The Lucas of today was a wealthy man with a beautiful family. My reappearance was nothing but a problem. Last time, I was blind to this. I believed his love was as unwavering as mine. I’d rushed to reclaim my title as his fiancée, deluding myself into thinking I could take back everything he had built with his wife, Sophia. It was a delusion that led to a gruesome end, with not even a body to bury. So this time, I would play the part of the amnesiac. This time, I would not interfere with his perfect life. After verifying his identity, the police prepared to release me into his care. “I don’t know him,” I insisted, digging my heels in. “I’m not going with him.” He pulled out his wallet and from it, a faded photograph of me with my parents. “Come on, Luna. Your parents left some things for you at my house. Consider it a keepsake.” But I saw it clearly. Tucked into another fold of his wallet was a vibrant, happy photo of a family of three. As he pulled out the old picture, a small, laminated photo slipped out and fluttered to the floor. It was my old student ID. 【Oh my god! He’s kept her picture for twenty years! He’s so in love!】 【I knew it! He only ever loved her! That Sophia is just a stand-in!】 The comments lauded his undying devotion. All I felt was a searing irony. A man with a wife and child—what was the point of pretending to be a tragic, romantic hero? “Luna, if you don’t come with me, you can’t get your records updated. You’ll be a ghost in the system, unable to do anything.” I hesitated, then finally, I followed him. The ride back was suffocatingly quiet. The plush leather of the Rolls-Royce’s back seat felt vast, yet it couldn’t contain the turbulent current flowing between us. After what felt like an eternity, he broke the silence, his voice low. “You really don’t remember anything about me?” “Nothing at all.” I shook my head, meeting his probing gaze with a calm, practiced smile. I wasn’t lying. I truly didn’t know this man. The Lucas I knew was a poor but proud boy, twenty years old, who would blush at a single word from me. Love and jealousy were written plainly on his face. He didn’t have this man’s money or his cunning. A ride on his beat-up bicycle was enough to make his whole day. He would never have wavered between me and another woman. In my past life, this older Lucas had hidden me away in a lavish villa, a dirty secret, torn between his wife and me. In the end, his indecision destroyed us all. I glanced over. He was rubbing his eyes, a habit I remembered. I could see the silver creeping at his temples. I ran a thumb over my bare ring finger. He still hadn’t noticed the ring he gave me was gone. Once I find the person I need to find, I will walk away from him and never look back. 2 Sophia was impeccably preserved, looking barely over thirty. The animosity in her beautiful eyes was sharp and undisguised. Lucas was about to make introductions when his phone rang. He stepped away to take the call, leaving me alone with her in the grand foyer. I tried to force the word ‘Sophia’ out, to greet her as his wife, but the sound was trapped in my throat. She approached me with a bowl of what looked like hot pear cider. “Here, drink this. It’ll soothe your throat.” The moment I reached for it, her wrist tilted. The bowl crashed at my feet. Scalding liquid splashed onto my instep. It was autumn now, but I was still wearing the flimsy summer sandals I’d had on before I got in the car. When Lucas ended his call, he saw a tearful Sophia, a stunned me, and a floor littered with porcelain shards. “Luna, what did you do?!” he roared, his voice cracking like a whip. “Apologize to Sophia, now!” His hand clamped around my wrist, the force of his grip bruising the bone. The comments flared. 【Just you wait, Lucas! When her memory comes back, you’re going to regret this!】 【Maybe he thinks he’s too old for her now? Is that why he’s pushing her away?】 A chill settled deep in my bones. No, that wasn’t it. In the twenty years I was gone, he had fallen in love with someone else. The scales of his heart had long since tipped in favor of the wife and child who had stood by his side. Sophia quickly intervened. “It was nothing, I just lost my grip. Luna, are you alright? Did it burn you?” She retrieved an elegant shopping bag from a nearby closet. “I got you some new clothes. Why don’t you go change?” Lucas took the bag from her, glanced inside, and shoved it back into her arms. “This is the couture gown I had made for you. You can’t just give it to anyone.” His voice was cold. “I’ll get new clothes for Luna.” I kept my head down. “Thank you… brother,” I mumbled. I slipped on a pair of disposable slippers and followed them into the living room. I sat on the sofa, but my eyes were drawn to the room around me, a museum of their life together. In my last life, I was never allowed in this house. 3 Only now did I see the full, crushing weight of their happiness. In their wedding photo, Sophia was radiant, nestled against Lucas. The date in the corner was three years after the day I disappeared. An entire wall was a mosaic of their life, a dense collage of memories documenting two decades. There were photos of them traveling the world, from the Eiffel Tower to the pyramids of Giza. There were photos tracing their son’s growth, from a swaddled infant to a toddler taking his first steps, to the lanky teenager he was now. The steam from the cup of tea they’d placed before me blurred my vision as memories from my past life flooded back. When I first returned, I thought he was still the same Lucas I loved. He had held me, sobbing, telling me over and over how overjoyed he was to have me back. He said his life without me had been an agony, every second a torment. He said Sophia and their son were just a responsibility, a duty to appease his parents. And I believed him. I foolishly thought we could go back. But the one time I secretly went to see Sophia and their son, he flew into a rage. “You’re still such a child,” he’d snarled. “You can’t possibly understand the pressures a forty-year-old man faces.” My eight hours had been his twenty years. His habits had changed, his tastes had changed. I couldn’t keep up with the new world. I didn’t know how to use a smartphone, didn’t understand the new slang he used. I could see the impatience, the annoyance, hidden beneath his weary sighs. That annoyance peaked two years after my return. He suddenly announced he wanted to end things. “Luna, I have a wife and son. The twenty years we lost is a chasm we can never cross.” “I can compensate you,” he’d offered. “A car, a house, money… just name it.” I’d spent the entire night screaming, smashing everything in the house. He just sat on the sofa, chain-smoking until dawn. Neither of us would yield. So I took the fight to his office, to his company, and finally, to the press. Whether it was the weight of public opinion or my relentless campaign, I’ll never know. But one day, Sophia took their son and jumped from the roof of their high-rise apartment. From that day on, Lucas hated me with a passion that burned for thirty years. He never saw me again, instead leaving me to the mercy of his staff, who found creative ways to torment me. Just before he died, he sent a message: “If only we had agreed to just be brother and sister the day you came back.” So, in this life, no matter how the ghostly comments plead my case, I will stick to my story. I have amnesia. This time, I’m not chasing some phantom love. I just want to find my footing in this new world, reclaim what my parents left me, and then disappear from his life forever. Lucas’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Luna, go apologize to Sophia.” I lifted my head, my gaze bypassing Sophia and landing squarely on him. “Are we… really brother and sister?” The comments scrolled faster. 【Whoa, whoa! Is this it? Is the big reveal coming?】 【She’s going to tell him! I knew she wasn’t an amnesiac!】 【Get ready for the groveling to begin!】 Lucas’s eyes flickered. “Yes,” he said, his voice firm. “We are.” Then, a little softer, “Did you remember something?” 4 I smiled and shook my head. “No. Just asking.” He let out a quiet, almost imperceptible sigh of relief. His fingers tapped a light rhythm on the tabletop. I knew that sound. It was the sound of his relief that I remembered nothing. The front door clicked open, and a young boy with a backpack walked in. “Dad, who is she?” Lucas opened his mouth, but seemed to struggle with how to introduce me. I spoke up first. “I’m your aunt.” The boy, Leo, eyed me suspiciously. “How come I’ve never seen you in any of the pictures?” he mumbled. Dinner was soon served. Sophia urged me to eat more. The table was laden with rich, elaborate dishes, but not a single one was something I liked. I felt a wave of dizziness. I remembered when Lucas and I were starting out, so poor we could barely scrape by. A single fancy meal was a cause for celebration that lasted for days. As I drifted in memory, the doorbell rang. A moment later, Lucas walked back in holding a McDonald’s bag. My eyes instantly flooded with tears. The comments went wild. 【She told him she wanted McDonald’s right before she got in the car!】 【He remembered for twenty years… I’m not crying, you’re crying.】 But in the next second, Leo leaped up and excitedly grabbed the bag from his father. “I knew you’d remember, Dad! It’s Wednesday—our family McDonald’s night!” Wednesday was McDonald’s night. That was my thing with Lucas. Our wedding was set for a Thursday, and the Wednesday before, we were so busy we never got a chance to eat. It was the one thing I kept complaining about. “I’ll get it for you as soon as I get off this thing, I promise,” he had laughed over the phone. “Luna, what’s wrong?” Sophia’s concerned voice cut through the haze. I lowered my head, forcing down a mouthful of rice. My voice was thick. “It’s nothing. I was just… thinking about my parents.” Lucas was gone from dawn till dusk, consumed by work. The household was Sophia’s domain. And she found endless reasons to torment me. One day, the dishes I washed were still greasy. The next, the floor I mopped wasn’t clean enough. Then, the clothes I hung had too many wrinkles and she had to re-iron everything. Before I could even defend myself, she would sigh, her eyes downcast. “It’s my fault, Lucas. I didn’t explain the house rules clearly enough… Oh, never mind. I’ll just go do it all again.” Lucas would only scowl at me and tell me to stop being so childish. Their son, Leo, was even worse. He secretly took photos of me changing and even tried to sell my underwear online. I brought it up once. Lucas’s face darkened instantly. “He’s a teenager, Luna. How can you even think something so vile about him?” Time truly changes a person. In my last life, sleeping next to the forty-year-old Lucas, my love had created a filter, obscuring the truth. I never realized he was no longer the twenty-year-old boy I adored. Ping. A notification on my phone. My official records were finally updated. That night, my phone rang. “City Hall. Ten a.m. tomorrow.” “I’ll be there.” The next morning, I ran into Lucas right outside the building. “Luna? What are you doing here?” I clutched the marriage certificate in my hand, its crisp edges digging into my palm. “Nothing. Just taking a walk.” If he had only asked one more question, he would have known I was there to get married. 5 Sophia’s voice called from the car. “Lucas, darling, hurry up! We’ll be late for work.” With them both gone for the day, I found the safe in Lucas’s study. Inside was the letter my parents had left me, along with the company’s original shareholder agreement. With these, I could take back what was mine. The password was still our anniversary. The first day of spring. The comments were still fawning over his supposed sentimentality. It just made me sick. I was dragging my suitcase down the street when a car careened out of control, heading straight for me. I collapsed in a pool of my own blood. My first instinct was to call Lucas. I dialed his number again and again, until the world went black. He never picked up. When I woke up, Sophia was sitting by my bed. “You’re finally awake, Luna.” Her voice was laced with faux concern. “Lucas and I were so busy with our fertility treatments for a second baby, we didn’t hear the phone.” I stared at her. “A second baby?” “We’re hoping for a girl this time,” she said, smiling sweetly. Her eyes fixed on me, and then, with a flick of her wrist, she smashed the jade bracelet she was wearing against the bedside table. Lucas walked in at that exact moment to the sound of Sophia’s theatrical sobs. “Lucas, darling! Luna… she broke the only thing your mother ever gave me!” He rushed to her side, shielding her with his body. It was the second time he’d fallen for such an obvious, pathetic trap. But this time, Sophia added a new twist. “Lucas, I don’t think she ever lost her memory. If she’s been faking it this whole time, then all of this… it would finally make sense.” His eyes snapped to me, filled with a dawning, terrible suspicion. I met his gaze. “She’s right, Lucas. I never lost my memory.” “And I never did a single thing to Sophia. The pear cider, the bracelet… it was all her.” His face contorted, a storm of shock and betrayal washing over him. His eyes reddened. I stared right back at him, my voice clear and steady. “I never wanted to destroy your family. That was your own self-important fantasy. Did you really think the twenty-year-old me would still be in love with a forty-year-old man?” The veins on the back of his hand stood out in sharp relief. “Stop it, Luna! Don’t say such things! I don’t believe you!” he roared. “If you never lost your memory, how could you be so calm? How could you not… not come running back to me?” The comments exploded. 【No way! Absolutely no way! If she remembered everything, with how much she loved him, she’d never be this cold!】 【I don’t buy it. She’s just saying this to get a reaction out of him, to make him jealous!】 My gaze shifted to the still-sobbing Sophia. I slapped her, hard, across the face. The sound echoed in the sterile room. “I was trying to be civil, but some people just keep shoving their face in for a slap.” “Luna!” Lucas lunged for my wrist. But his hand was caught mid-air, stopped by a grip of iron. A tall man with sharp, intelligent eyes stepped between us, pulling me gently behind him. His gaze on Lucas was like ice. “Allow me to introduce myself,” the man said, his voice a low baritone. “I’m Richard Vance. Luna’s husband. Legally.” I peeked out from behind him, holding up the marriage certificate. “It’s true. We’re legally married. And I have absolutely no interest in you.” “I never lost my memory, Lucas. I just lost interest.”

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