Category: English

I was on a work trip, but my neighbors were blowing up the group chat, tagging me in ALL CAPS, cursing me out for knocking on their window in the middle of the night, and threatening to come upstairs and kill me. I stared at my phone screen, utterly confused. I was a thousand miles away in Nashville, munching on some Nashville hot chicken. There wasn’t even a roach in my apartment, let alone a person. Who the hell was knocking? Operating under the principle that there are no such things as ghosts, I told my neighbor to go take a look. The resulting video they sent showed a massive, homemade effigy hanging from my balcony, swinging back and forth with the draft from the HVAC unit, repeatedly striking the glass. The effigy was human-sized. It was headless and handless. 1 It was 2:30 a.m., and the condo group chat was detonating. A resident named “Inkwell” was furious: [Is the moron upstairs high? KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK! It’s been an hour! What time do you think it is?!] RyanCole302: [Maybe it’s just the wind? Who’s a big enough idiot to knock on a window at 2 AM for fun?] Inkwell: [Bullshit! It’s not the wind! It’s got a rhythm, man, someone is deliberately knocking! Still going! I swear I’m coming up there to kick your ass!] A girl named “SweetSpot” chimed in: [An hour of knocking? That’s kind of creepy. Does that unit have someone with a mental health issue or something?] Seeing them argue, I felt compelled to step in as a good neighbor: [Hey, man, chill out. What building are you in? Don’t get worked up, just ask security to go check, right?] The next message was Inkwell changing his screen name to “FinnMiller402.” I froze. 402? That was the unit directly below mine. He was yelling at my apartment? But I was in Nashville on a consulting gig. Nobody was home. The place was locked up tighter than a drum. I cautiously typed: [You’re 402? Are you sure you’ve got the right unit?] FinnMiller402 (Inkwell): [QuestionMark.jpg. You think I don’t know where I live, genius? You must be an idiot.] My gut clenched. A burglar? But what kind of burglar breaks in, steals nothing, and spends an hour playing bongos on the window? It made no sense. Two minutes later, Finn sent another message: [I called security and the building manager. They’re on their way up. The son of a bitch upstairs is going to apologize on his knees tonight!] As a lifelong, meek consultant (the perpetual ‘B’ party), my first instinct was to de-escalate: [I am truly sorry. I’m the owner of 502. But I swear I’m not home right now, and there is absolutely no one else there!] FinnMiller402: [???] BrawnyBrock: [Holy crap, a horror story?] SweetSpot: [Maybe your parents or a relative took your key and didn’t tell you?] HarveyReno: [Even a relative wouldn’t be banging on a window in the middle of the night, would they?] Pierce602: [It’s a break-in, then.] BrawnyBrock: [What kind of thief is that cocky? Trying to get caught?] The bizarre turn of events drew out every night owl in the chat. Just as the speculation hit a fever pitch, Pierce602 posted a video: [@SeraKnight, is this your place?] BrawnyBrock: [Oh, Momma! What the hell is that thing?!] SweetSpot: [That looks familiar…] I clicked the video with a trembling hand. One look, and the blood drained from my face, a chill shooting straight up to my scalp. My living room curtain was partially open. Right in the center of the balcony, a huge, white object was hanging. It looked like a human-sized rag doll. The central air was blowing directly on it, and the thing was swinging back and forth with the draft, striking the floor-to-ceiling panoramic window with a rhythmic “Thud, thud, thud.” That was the sound Finn downstairs had been hearing. Pierce602: [Is that supposed to be one of those old-school weather dolls?] HarveyReno: [Who makes a doll that big? It looks like a person. @SeraKnight, did you hang that?] I quickly denied it: [Absolutely not! Why would I hang that creepy thing?!] BrawnyBrock: [Wait… could that actually be a person?] SweetSpot: [How long have you been gone?] Me: [Two days. I was scheduled to be back next week.] Just as we started arguing about what the thing was, Finn messaged again: [Security is here. I’m going in with them to check it out first.] 2 BrawnyBrock: [My dude is a madman!] The group chat went dead silent. Everyone was holding their breath, waiting for Finn’s update. After about ten minutes, Finn sent a chain of voice messages. His voice was shaking, bordering on a sob. “Oh my GOD! Ahhhhh!” “No head! God, it has no head!” “Call the cops! Call the cops right now! It’s a person! It’s missing its head!” He was clearly terrified, incoherent save for the frantic calls to 911. HarveyReno: [So… a corpse?] BrawnyBrock: [I’ve already called the police! @SeraKnight, forget your job, get your butt back here! Something huge has happened!] Brock, despite his mouth, was quick on the draw. He sent several messages urging me to return. Me: [Dude, I can’t. The earliest red-eye flight I can catch won’t land until tomorrow morning.] BrawnyBrock: [Someone’s dead, and you’re flying? Can’t you take an Uber? You sound guilty! Maybe you’re the killer!] I snapped back: [I’m in Nashville! It would take two days of non-stop driving to get back! You’re awfully quick to throw accusations—are you looking for a scapegoat?] RyanCole302: [Alright, stop fighting, guys.] SweetSpot: [@RyanCole302, you’ve been quiet the whole time we were panicking. Where were you?] RyanCole302: [Seriously? I was asleep, woman! Look at the time! I’d have been out cold if the chat hadn’t kept vibrating. Now you’re going to suspect me?] SweetSpot: [Sorry, sorry. Been watching too many true-crime documentaries. A little jumpy…] Pierce602: [Shut up. Sirens. The police are here.] The group chat fell into a grave silence once more. About twenty minutes later, Pierce602 posted four words, like a boulder dropped into a deep well: [Someone is dead.] 3 I booked the next available red-eye flight. The sky was just beginning to lighten when I landed. The police were waiting for me at the gate. “Ms. Knight? You’ll come with us.” The interrogation room was lit by a sickly fluorescent glare. Detective Price, a sharp-featured officer, sat across from me. “The victim’s time of death was between midnight and 1:30 a.m.” Detective Price stared into my eyes. “Where were you during that time?” “I was on a work trip in Nashville,” I replied honestly. “Alibi? How do we know you didn’t secretly fly back, kill someone, and fly out again?” “What?” I was stunned. “Don’t the building and the airport have security cameras?” “Unfortunately, your building’s security system went half-offline three days ago,” Detective Price tapped the table. “And we note that you, Ms. Knight, are a security systems consultant. An expert in the field.” “As for the airport footage, that takes time to review.” “Now, answer my question.” It seemed I was the number one suspect. Which, given the body was found in my apartment, was fair. “The trip was my boss’s assignment. I was in Nashville to supervise a client camera installation.” “Yesterday, after I finished work, I went back to the hotel. I didn’t go anywhere else.” “No colleagues to vouch for you?” I shook my head. “It was a solo trip.” “However, around one in the morning, I was starving, so I ordered some takeout.” “It was delivered around 1:15.” “It was one of those hotel delivery robots that brings the food up. The robot should have a log, right? And the hotel lobby security would definitely show I never left.” “That’s convenient,” Detective Price leaned back in his chair. “Hungry in the middle of the night?” I sighed with frustration. “Of course I get hungry when I can’t sleep. Officer, a woman eating a midnight snack isn’t a crime, is it?” As the initial shock wore off, I slowly calmed down. I hadn’t killed anyone. I didn’t need to tremble like a criminal. “So, have you offended anyone recently?” Detective Price changed tack. “Or who do you think would want to hurt you the most?” “I don’t know,” I shook my head. “But I swear I’m not the killer, or I hope to be hit by a bus on my way out of here.” Detective Price watched me for a long moment, seemingly confirming I wasn’t lying before putting down his pen. “Save the dramatics. They don’t help. Don’t leave the city for the next few days. We may call you back in.” “‘Us’?” “Every resident in the building who doesn’t have a rock-solid alibi.” Detective Price rubbed his temples. “Even though the interior security system was compromised, the exterior ones are still working.” “Since 10 p.m last night, no one entered or left the complex except for one delivery driver.” “Then why are you grilling me—” Detective Price gave me a flat look. “The police don’t rule out any possibility.” I nodded quickly. “Our complex is a little out of the way. It’s usually only delivery people and mail carriers who frequent the place…” Wait, the delivery driver? A flash of memory crossed my mind. “Detective Price, I just remembered something. I don’t know if you’d call him an enemy, but he was definitely a delivery guy.” 4 It was a small incident, originally. If Detective Price hadn’t simultaneously brought up “enemy” and “delivery driver,” I would never have connected the dots. “About two weeks ago, I had a fight with a delivery guy, and I ended up calling the police.” It was 10:30 p.m. that night. I had ordered a spicy Thai curry. “You order takeout often that late?” “Yeah, I’m a consultant. Long hours.” I continued recalling the night. “The food arrived pretty fast, around 11:00 p.m.” “Knock, knock, knock.” “Just leave it by the door, thanks!” I was deep in a heated battle on my game console and just shouted out a response. The game was a nail-biter, so I kept playing for another half hour. When I finally remembered the food and went to the door, my instinct as a woman living alone told me to check the peephole first. The motion-sensor light in the hallway had gone out. It was pitch black. But in the darkness, a single red spark was flickering, glaringly bright. Someone was squatting by my door, smoking! My building has an apartment directly across the hall, but it was empty. No neighbor from upstairs or downstairs would purposely come all the way to my door to have a cigarette. I instantly remembered all the online news stories about delivery drivers staking out single women’s apartments. My heart hammered against my ribs. To confirm, I dug out the order on my phone and dialed the driver’s number. Immediately, a phone rang outside my door, and the motion-sensor light flared on. Squatting there, in the yellow vest, was the delivery driver. A few seconds later, the call connected. “Hello, can I help you?” I backed up a few steps, trying to keep my voice steady. “Sorry, I was busy. I see the app says it was delivered?” The driver turned and stared directly at my door, his eyes unblinking. “Oh, yes, about half an hour ago. It’s cold out, your food must be getting cold. You should grab it now.” “Got it. I’m in the bathroom, I’ll get it in a minute.” 5 Thinking back, my excuse was weak. I kept my eye glued to the peephole. His eyes never left my front door. He had to know I was lying, that I’d spotted him. But he still didn’t leave. I retreated to the bedroom, hands shaking, and called 911. The police arrived quickly, within five minutes. Only after I heard the commotion outside did I dare open the door. “Officers, it’s him! He’s been squatting by my door for over thirty minutes!” As the police pinned him down, the delivery driver stared intensely at me. It was a look of venomous resentment—the hatred of a plan exposed—and it made my blood run cold. But in an instant, he morphed back into a simple, harmless-looking man. “It’s a misunderstanding, Officer, truly,” he pleaded, his face crumpled. “It’s too cold out. I just wanted to get out of the wind and wait for my next order here.” He even played the victim, claiming he had a paralyzed mother to support at home. “I have to work constantly, I can’t quit.” My gut told me his version of “work constantly” was less about delivering food and more about attempted home invasion. But I had no proof. In the end, the police could only give him a warning. He hadn’t actually touched me or picked the lock. That was the end of it. Later, I posted about it online. The comments section was full of people warning me to be careful, saying people like that hold a grudge. [OP, watch your back. Always double-lock your door!] [The police won’t do anything about this potential danger? Do they have to wait for someone to get hurt?] [No new orders, but he’s squatting by your door smoking? Something’s definitely wrong with this guy!] Of course, there were also sanctimonious S.O.B.s defending him. [Maybe he was just tired and taking a break?] [They’re just low-income workers, trying to make a living. Don’t assume the worst.] [Maybe he was afraid the food would get stolen and you’d ask for a refund, so he was waiting for you to bring it inside?] Regardless of the truth, I was terrified for a week. Thankfully, nothing happened. I convinced myself it was a spur-of-the-moment thing, or perhaps I had just overreacted. Slowly, the incident faded from my memory.

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Before my dad took his last breath, he left me a huge surprise. He told me my mom wasn’t dead. She had remarried, taking my two older sisters with her. I left our small trailer park to find her, only to discover I didn’t just have two sisters anymore. I had… One, two, three, four new siblings. The eldest sister, the CFO of the family empire: “Pick a gem, Leo. Can’t decide? Just take them all.” The second sister, Hollywood’s new “It Girl”: “I got you VIP tickets to my concert, front row center! It’s all yours.” Even the stepsister who isn’t related by blood… “Little brother, drink your milk. You need to grow taller. Eat more, okay?” And the formerly arrogant, rebellious stepbrother… “Who bullied my little brother? Get out here, I’ll kick your ass!” Me… I guess I’m just going to lie down and enjoy the ride! 1 My dad died. Before he croaked, he told me to find my mom. With no idea where to start, I embarked on the journey to find her. Mrs. Miller from the trailer next door tearfully stuffed homemade biscuits into my tattered backpack. “Leo, honey, don’t go hungry.” I hugged her and took the water bottle from old Mr. Henderson. “Leo, stay hydrated.” Finally, Uncle Bob, the mechanic, rubbed my head and threw me onto the Amtrak heading to Boston. He said, “Your mom married rich. If she doesn’t want you, use your secret weapon.” I carried my small backpack, tears in my eyes, feeling like a lost puppy. I shouted into the wind, “Uncle Bob, what… is… my… secret… weapon?” No one answered. Only the echo from the canyon replied. Scared as I was, I eventually stood shakily at South Station in Boston. Clutching the address, I rang the doorbell of a massive villa in a wealthy suburb. The woman who opened the door was dressed impeccably. She looked me up and down. “Who are you looking for?” I fidgeted with my fingers. “I… I’m looking for my mom. Her name is Elizabeth.” “Come in.” Although suspicious, she let me in and made a call. “Mrs. Sterling, there’s a young boy downstairs. He says he’s looking for you.” Before long, a woman walked down the grand staircase. I marveled at the place. It was like a palace. They even used an intercom to talk. “Leo?” The woman was beautiful, with barely any wrinkles under her eyes. She wore a silk robe and pulled me into a tight hug. I froze, feeling the softness and the strange sensation. Is this… Mom? “It’s Mom, it’s Mom. Leo, I missed you so much.” The beauty wept, tears rolling down like crystal beads. “Mom?” I tentatively asked. “Yes!” She hugged me tighter and rubbed my hair. “Quick! Call Victoria and Chloe back!” My beautiful mom started giving orders. “Who are they?” I asked, confused. “Your sisters.” She held my hand and led me upstairs. “Your dad had a gambling problem back then, and you were too young. I could only take your sisters and run. I planned to come back for you later, but you found us first.” I whispered, “Dad died.” Maybe it was my imagination, but she paused for a second before bending down. “Mom will treat you better. I’ll be so good to you, Leo.” “Stay here, okay?” Her eyes were gentle. I widened my eyes and nodded obediently. Soon, she cleaned me up and led me downstairs. Just as we reached the steps, someone pushed the front door open. The woman seemed to carry a cold wind with her. Her gaze was sharp. She put her briefcase aside and started unbuttoning her coat. I instinctively stepped back. Mom led me down. “Leo, this is your eldest sister.” Mom explained gently. “Hi, big sis,” I lowered my head, sneaking glances at her. The woman squatted down, her eyes full of smiles. “Leo, you’ve grown so much.” She pinched my cheek, her smile deepening. “I’m back! I’m back! I’m back!” Someone shouted, rushing through the door. “My brother is here?” “Where is he?” The moment our eyes met, we both screamed. “Ahhhhh! Chloe Sterling!” She vaulted over the sofa with one hand. The next second, a beautiful face was magnified in front of mine. I almost stopped breathing. Even in my remote trailer park, I had seen her commercials on TV. America’s Sweetheart, Chloe Sterling! She’s my second sister! I started to suspect this was all a dream. “Leo, did you miss me?” Chloe pinched my cheek too. Not satisfied with one, she pinched both sides. “Leo was too small back then,” the eldest sister crossed her arms, stating a fact. I nodded unconsciously. “Yeah.” “It’s okay, you’ll remember later. Chloe loves you the most! I saved a ton of fun stuff for you!” Chloe grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the stairs. “Let’s eat first. Leo traveled a long way. He’ll see the stuff later,” Mom said gently. “Madam, Mr. Sterling says he’ll be back soon. Miss Harper and Master Ethan… said they aren’t coming home tonight.” A trace of helplessness flashed across Mom’s face. “I know.” “Harper and Ethan aren’t coming back again?” The eldest sister sat aside, flipping through a file, her voice cold. “They’ve been acting out lately. Maybe Uncle needs to talk to them,” Chloe said, twirling a lock of my hair. Mom sighed and called me over, showing me a photo. “Leo, this is your Uncle Richard, my current husband.” The man in the photo was handsome and sharp. “This is Harper, Uncle Richard’s daughter.” The girl in the photo looked a bit disgruntled. “Her eyes are blue!” I exclaimed. “Yes, her mother was French,” Mom explained. “Oh, okay,” I nodded obediently, earning a round of head rubs from my sisters. “This is Ethan, Uncle Richard’s son.” The boy had great hair, but the corners of his mouth turned down. He looked full of angst. “He’s handsome,” I praised sincerely. “Our Leo is the best looking!” Chloe puffed out her cheeks and muttered. I pursed my lips and shook my head. “Haha, let me see the handsome boy!” A hearty male voice came from the door, footsteps heavy. I looked up. The man was tall; I had to crane my neck to see him. He was strong, completely different from my sisters. He looked… safe. He half-squatted and reached out. “Come here, let Uncle see.” I moved from Mom’s arms, curiously observing him. “Hello, Uncle.” “Hello, Leo!” “How old are you?” He let me look at him, asking softly. “Eighth grade,” I answered obediently. He rubbed my face, grinning from ear to ear. Suddenly, he lifted me up and placed me on the dining chair. He rubbed my head. “Let’s eat!” Mom smiled and sat down. My sisters sat beside me. “Eat up. After dinner, I’ll show you something cool!” Chloe whispered. “Chloe, less talking, more eating!” Mom interrupted. “It’s fine. She can talk to Leo,” Uncle Richard said warmly. My sisters both looked up, surprised by his words. Mom paused for two seconds before saying, “Oh, okay.” “Which room does Leo want?” Uncle Richard asked while putting food in my bowl. “Victoria works late, don’t disturb him. Chloe is rarely home, but when she is, she’s loud. The room behind theirs is a storage room, you can’t stay there.” “Uncle Richard!” Chloe pouted, looking annoyed. I shook her hand under the table, signaling I’d see her toys later. “You are loud!” Victoria nodded in agreement and offered a suggestion. “Leo can stay in the room next to mine. Good lighting.” Uncle Richard thought for a moment. “Okay, that one. If Harper and Ethan have complaints, tell them to come to me.” I wondered why they would complain. I found out when I moved in. We were neighbors. 2 Chloe opened the door and introduced me. “My room is at the end of the hall. Victoria is opposite me.” She opened the room next to Victoria’s. “This is yours! Great sunlight during the day. The peach tree branches touch your window!” I rolled on the bed, overjoyed. “Next door is Ethan. Opposite him is Harper.” Chloe looked around unnaturally. “Don’t talk to them if you don’t have to.” “Huh?” I didn’t hear clearly. “What did you say?” Victoria walked in with milk and kicked Chloe as she passed. “Don’t talk nonsense.” She turned to me. “Leo, drink your milk.” “Okay.” I drank it all, amused by their loving gazes. “I finished!” “Okay, bedtime now.” Victoria tucked me in and dragged Chloe out. “Wait, wait! Leo, I have toys to show you!” Victoria grabbed her by the scruff of her neck. “Tomorrow. It’s rest time.” “Sleep? What time is it?!” Chloe protested. “Your schedule is unhealthy!” Victoria ignored her struggles, turning off the light for me at the door. “Goodnight, Leo. Toys tomorrow.” I laughed and shouted okay. I yawned. I was tired. But I didn’t sleep well. In the middle of the night, I met… Harper. I screamed when she kicked the door open, instinctively turning on the lamp. “You! What are you doing!” She was swinging a baseball bat, destroying my room. Bang! Crash! “Yo, this is the new brother?” “Harper, what are you doing!” Victoria arrived quickly, shielding the shivering me. “Just teaching the new kid a lesson. Letting him know who runs this house.” Harper shouldered the bat, chewing gum loudly. “Leo is young! You’re scaring him!” Victoria trembled with rage. “Why waste breath on her!” Chloe appeared and tackled Harper. Victoria joined the fray. I was left alone, circling them helplessly. Mom and Uncle Richard were on the third floor; they couldn’t hear the commotion. Luckily, this seemed routine. Soon, the three of them stopped, panting. I worriedly circled Chloe. “Don’t worry, Leo. I’m fine.” I waved my hand. “Chloe, take care of your face. I like your face.” Chloe froze. Harper stood up shakily behind her, sneering. “Brother, we’ll clash plenty in the future!” I saw her stumbling and reached out to steady her. “Oh, okay. Goodnight, Harper.” Harper’s look changed. She stared at me like I was an idiot. Her gaze was fierce, almost making me cry before she looked away. “Scared stupid.” “Watch your mouth!” Victoria and Chloe spoke in unison, ready to fight again. I stopped them and ushered everyone out one by one. After a quick tidy, I slept until noon. 3 I had met Victoria, Chloe, and Harper. Only Ethan was missing. I played with a small, exquisite action figure. “Like it?” Chloe sat beside me, eyes full of expectation. “Yeah!” I nodded, but hesitated. “Chloe, you saved… this many?” The entire storage room was filled with figures. Chloe twisted the hem of her shirt. “When you were little, you said you liked them.” I blinked. I had no memory of my sisters. Mom said she left when I was born. When did I say I liked figures? Seeing me stare, she said awkwardly, “I was holding you, walking around. A guy teased you with a figure. You wanted it, he wouldn’t give it! You cried.” I was surprised. “I don’t remember.” She said anxiously, “I remember! I knew then I wanted to give you everything good in the world. But…” I patted her shoulder. “Okay, okay! Don’t think about the sad stuff.” I stood next to a life-size figure. “Chloe, am I as tall as this one?” She rubbed my head. “Our Leo will grow tall!” We spent the afternoon organizing the room. It became my playroom. Besides figures, there were expensive toys. Uncle Richard even sent a slide when he saw us. If Mom hadn’t stopped him, he would have sent a ball pit. Well, he sent it anyway. After playing, I opened my door to find Victoria sitting at my desk. “Victoria,” I called obediently. “Hmm. Like the playroom?” She wore gold-rimmed glasses tonight, looking gentle. I sat on a small stool next to her. “Yes! Chloe played with me for a long time!” Victoria pinched my cheek. “Chloe is the fun one. Leo must like her more. You said you liked her face yesterday.” I sensed something wrong. I moved my stool closer. “I like you just as much, Victoria!” “Really!” “Victoria is great too!” Just a bit scary looking. I swallowed that thought. She looked like an abandoned puppy. “Victoria~” I tried to act cute. “Okay.” Victoria pulled me up to sit on the desk. She stood behind me and produced three boxes like magic. “Look at these. Like them?” The first box had loose diamonds, sparkling under the light. “Wow!” The second had a ruby watch. Exquisite. “Pretty!” I couldn’t take my eyes off it. The last box had a pearl necklace. Each pearl glowed. “This is too expensive, sister.” I pushed the boxes back. “I don’t need expensive jewelry!” Victoria rubbed my head lovingly. “I might not be able to play with you like Chloe, but I can afford these. If you want anything, I can get it for you.” I bit my lip. “I know. I’ll pick one.” I felt it was too flashy for a kid. “Can’t decide?” Before I could answer, Victoria decided. “Keep them all. By the way, the ruby is the cheapest.” Watching her leave, I suddenly understood why she stopped Chloe yesterday. The gems sparkled, pure as a sister’s desire to make up for lost time.

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After my wealthy family finally found me, their adopted son—the fake heir—ran out crying and was hit by a car, breaking both his legs. Then, the family suddenly went bankrupt. To pay off debts, my biological father worked construction and fell, ending up in a vegetative state. My mother, unable to handle the shock, nearly died of a heart attack. Everyone said I was cursed, that I brought misfortune to the family. But my sister held my hand firmly and said: “Leo, I believe none of this is your fault. Let’s work together to carry this family, okay?” Touched beyond words, I worked countless jobs, exhausted like a dog. Three years later, I rushed to the hospital clutching thirty thousand dollars for medical bills, only to see my supposedly vegetative father sitting up in bed. “Serena, the three-year test is almost over. Do we still need Leo’s thirty grand today?” My sister laughed. “Of course we do. Why wouldn’t we?” “The motorcycle I bought for Caleb cost exactly thirty thousand. Consider it Leo’s apology gift.” Caleb, who should have been wheelchair-bound, stood up and hugged her. “I love you the most, sis!” My mother looked a bit worried. “But where did Leo get so much money? A test is a test, but we shouldn’t force him down a dark path!” “Don’t worry, Mom. Leo has Rh-negative blood, it’s worth a lot. My people saw him going to sell plasma. Once he passes the final test, I’ll tell him the family secured an investment.” I clutched the bank card, my hand instinctively covering the agonizing pain in my lower back. How could selling plasma possibly earn thirty thousand dollars? That money came from selling my kidney. But my sacrifice, risking my life, was just a test of familial loyalty! If that’s the case, I’ll just leave. … Chapter 1 Through the glass of the hospital room, I watched the family laughing and chatting happily. My heart felt like it was being carved by a knife. I covered my mouth with my hand, holding my phone up, trying to stifle my sobs. It was all a lie! My sister, who said she believed in me, was torturing me to vent anger for the fake heir. Even my biological parents played along with their misery, forcing me into the life of a stray dog. Memories of the past three years’ suffering flooded back like a tide. Only now did I realize the many plot holes. I had been too exhausted from the grind to even think. Through my tears, I saw a familiar figure stepping out of the elevator. It was Mr. Lewis, Dad’s former subordinate and current “debt collector.” I put away my phone and hid in the stairwell, watching him lead two bodyguards into Dad’s room. His fawning voice drifted out. “Mr. Vance, you truly have foresight! Pretending to go bankrupt to test the young master—only this way can you guarantee he isn’t just after the Vance family fortune.” “I heard the day you pretended to become a vegetable, the young master knelt by your bed and cried for a day and a night. Such a filial son!” Mom laughed too. “Yes, for three years I scolded him terribly, yet he still recognizes me as his mother. He is indeed filial.” My sister’s voice was cold. “He hasn’t passed Caleb’s and my test yet. Who knows if he’s scheming deep down?” Dad nodded. “Correct. To truly be Edward Vance’s son, he must pass the whole family’s test!” “Understood, Mr. Vance. I’ll play my part well…” My nails dug deep into my flesh. My heart was filled with agony. So that’s it. For three years, Dad’s test was to see if I was greedy. Mom’s test was to see if I would remain filial despite her coldness. And now, my sister’s test is to see if I’m willing to risk my life to pay off debts for the family. But I don’t want to play this role anymore. I don’t want this family anymore. Just as I turned to leave, Caleb spotted me outside the door. He flashed a provocative smile at me, then clutched his leg and collapsed back into the wheelchair, crying out in pain. “Since my brother caused me to almost become crippled, can I ask him to kowtow and apologize to me?” “Of course! He was the one who agitated you into that car accident. He owes you this!” Hearing the family spoiling him, I felt dead inside and prepared to leave. The next second, the door opened, and my sister saw me standing by the elevator. After a moment of shock, she immediately put on an anxious face and pulled me over. “Leo, you’re finally here! Mr. Lewis is inside demanding payment, come quick!” The moment she dragged me into the room, Mom was holding Caleb, weeping. Dad, who was just bossing people around, was back in bed with his oxygen mask on. My sister pulled me down, bowing and pleading humbly: “Uncle Lewis, for the sake of my dad, can we just pay thirty thousand in interest today? Once I get the investment, we’ll pay the rest…” Mr. Lewis looked at us with disdain. “Thirty thousand? You think I’m a beggar? Your dad is like this now, his ‘face’ isn’t worth a dime!” With a wave of his hand, the two bodyguards started smashing things. Mom cried her heart out. My sister gritted her teeth and pulled me to kneel with her. “Please, just give us a few more days! Before the end of the month, we will definitely pay it back!” “Besides, the doctor said my dad might wake up. You don’t want to burn bridges, do you?!” Pleading mixed with threats finally made Mr. Lewis relent. “Fine. Give me the thirty thousand now. If you don’t have the rest by next month, don’t blame me for getting nasty!” I gripped the bank card tightly. This was the money I exchanged half my life and a kidney for. My sister noticed my hesitation and hugged me, persuading: “Good brother, you’ve worked hard these three years.” “My deal is about to go through. Once we cure Dad, our family will get better and better!” Mom also knelt down towards me with a thud. “Son, Mom was wrong to blame you before. You aren’t a jinx, you’re the lucky star who can save our family!” Since Caleb broke his legs and Dad had his accident three years ago, Mom had hated me. She called me a jinx who almost killed her husband and son, never giving me a kind look. If this were before, hearing her call me “son” and seeing her weep like this… I really would have given my life for her. But now, I knew she was acting. Just to test if I would part with the money. I looked up at the ceiling, fighting back the surging tears. Mom, you gave me my life. Is it worth just thirty thousand dollars? If you think I owe you, I’ll pay you back. I helped her up and handed over the card. After Mr. Lewis took the money, he pointed at Caleb in the wheelchair dissatisfiedly. “The whole family knelt to me, why didn’t this brat kneel? Does he look down on me?” Caleb’s eyes reddened. My sister quickly apologized, but Mr. Lewis wouldn’t let it go. “This brat needs to kowtow three times loudly for this to be over! Otherwise, I’m kicking your whole family out of the hospital today!” Mom and my sister immediately pressed me down, forcing my head against the floor heavily. “Sorry, Mr. Lewis. Caleb is disabled, let his brother do it for him!” My forehead slammed against the cold tiles. Humiliating blood mixed with tears blurred my vision. Caleb sat in his wheelchair, looking down at me with triumphant eyes. From an angle no one else could see, he mouthed slowly: “You can’t beat me.” I scrambled up, wanting to flee, but the world spun. Blackness took over, and I passed out completely. In my stupor, I heard my sister and Mom screaming for a doctor. When I woke up again, it was the next day. I found myself lying in our dilapidated shack. My sister and Mom’s voices drifted in. “Sigh, did we go too far?” “Three years, letting Leo live in this dump… the doctor just said he fainted from long-term malnutrition and excessive blood loss. Sigh! We should have stopped him from selling plasma…” My sister interrupted Mom. “If it’s a test, how can it be easy? Three years ago, if his ambition hadn’t agitated Caleb into that accident, we wouldn’t have seen his true colors!” “Consider this his atonement to Caleb, and a way to prove himself! Once he passes Caleb’s test in three days, he’ll be the young master of the Vance family forever, enjoying endless wealth!” Mom still hesitated. “But the doctor said he needs a full checkup. Isn’t it dangerous to bring him back here like this?” “It’s just malnutrition and blood loss, what danger could there be? Some iron supplements and he’ll be fine. Keeping him in the hospital might make him suspicious. Where would we get the money to pay for his stay?” “Sigh, true.” They stood up and walked out the door. I slowly opened my eyes, looking at the rotting roof, my heart in agony. If they had just agreed to the checkup, they would have found out my blood loss wasn’t from selling plasma. It was because I was missing a kidney. A week ago, my sister cried to me that if we didn’t have thirty thousand dollars, Dad would be kicked out of the hospital. At my wit’s end, I saw a shady flyer on the street corner advertising plasma donation. I thought my Rh-negative blood would fetch a good price, but those black-market doctors were heartless. They said only a kidney would get that kind of money. When my sister called crying again, I walked into that back-alley clinic without hesitation. For seven days, I hid in a motel clutching my wound, lying that I was working out of town. I intended to keep my sister from worrying, but I never expected… She knew exactly what I went to do! But why did she lie to Mom and Dad, saying I only sold plasma? Sister, do you hate me that much for Caleb’s sake? Creating a situation where I had to carve out a kidney to atone. So in your eyes, I was never worthy of being your brother, more like an enemy, right? Even though you were the one who held my hand and said we were family, that we would carry this burden together! The pain in my heart far exceeded the physical pain. Through blurry eyes, I saw a bottle of iron pills on the bedside table, and my sister’s phone. I picked it up and tried her birthday as the passcode. It unlocked. [Leo is going to the hospital today, hurry back and get ready.] In the chat with Mom and Dad, my sister constantly reminded them. [Sis, today is my birthday. Will you come celebrate with me? Or do you have to be with him?] In the chat with Caleb, she coaxed him gently. [I haven’t forgotten. Three years ago on your birthday, he almost caused you to be disabled. Of course I’ll be with you!] Trembling, I opened my sister’s social media. That’s when I realized. She had posted so many updates that were hidden from me. Photo after photo of her and our parents with Caleb, looking happy and blessed in a villa. For the past three years, I was the only one working myself to death. They were living the good life in a mansion. I fought back the tears and took photos of these posts and chats with my own phone. Then I put her phone back. Staring blankly at the ceiling, my mind flashed back to my sister holding my calloused hands, tears streaming down her face. The way she knelt for me when Mom kicked us out of the hospital room. She said, “Leo, you are my biological brother. I believe in you. One day Mom will accept you. Hang in there.” For three years, I lived alone in this converted boat shack, freezing and starving. Last winter, when I had a high fever, I video-called her. The moment she accidentally accepted, I saw what looked like a luxury villa background. Then, she panicked and hung up, texting me impatiently: “I’m discussing a partnership at my boss’s house. Don’t disturb me.” For three whole years, she and the family enjoyed life in a villa while I suffered alone. Only when dealing with me would they return to the hospital to act. It was laughable that I scavenged scraps other fishermen didn’t want just to buy her a thick quilt. Turns out she never needed it. My familial love was wasted. I opened my phone to buy a ticket, only to find I had $6.90 left in my account. That was my food money for the next three days. Is their punishment to strip me of even the freedom to leave? Mocking myself, I dialed that number. “Do you still buy blood? I need money urgently. Okay, three days from now.” Three days later was exactly the end of the month my sister planned for. It was also the day of their final test for me. Using three days to say goodbye to three years of fake family was enough. My sister lifted the curtain and entered, her face changing when she heard my words. “What are you doing in three days?” I hung up and forced a bitter smile. “Did you forget what day it is in three days, sis?” She slapped her forehead, remembering. “Right! It’s your birthday! After three years, I can finally celebrate it with you.” “Leo, once I secure the investment, what birthday gift do you want? I’ll get you anything!” Mom also came in smiling. “Yes, you’ve worked hard these three years. Mom needs to make it up to you too.” My heart felt bitter. “I haven’t thought of it yet. I’ll tell you on my birthday, okay?” My sister and Mom exchanged smiles and agreed readily. Just as they were about to say more, my sister’s phone rang. She picked it up, glanced at it, and her face changed. “Caleb says Dad isn’t doing well. Mom, we have to go back immediately!” Before, I would have insisted on going with them. But now, I knew it was just an excuse to get away from me. I obediently stayed in the shack, watching them leave. As I was about to pack, a message popped up on my phone. [Leo, you heard everything at the hospital yesterday, right?] [The whole family believes me. They tortured you for three years for me.] [You didn’t seem very willing when you kowtowed to me yesterday… Since that’s the case, my test for you in three days won’t be so simple.] [With me here, don’t think about returning to the Vance family as the young master. Got it? If you’re smart, get lost now. Being kicked out by the whole family later will be much uglier!] … Each sentence pierced my heart like a dagger. So the final test was set by Caleb? No wonder he was confident I would fail. Ultimately, Mom, Dad, and Serena treated him as their real family. I, the outsider who couldn’t fit in, should leave. I dialed that number again. I wanted to ask if he could buy my blood two days early. I really needed the money. “Earliest is three days! Besides, it hasn’t even been half a month since you sold your kidney. Are you trying to die? “Forget it, forget it. I won’t take your blood in three days, I’ll just give you an extra thousand bucks. You scare me!” Touching the dull ache in my lower back, I smiled bitterly. Why wouldn’t I fear death? For three years, my family played me like a fool. I desperately wanted to leave them and live for myself. Is fate toying with me? Even leaving has to wait three days. Fine. I also wanted to see how far the family would go for Caleb, the fake heir, in three days. The next day, my sister called saying she had to accompany Caleb to rehab and wouldn’t be back. Half an hour later, Caleb sent me a photo. In the picture, Mom, Dad, and Serena were enjoying a feast with him in a luxurious villa. A huge family portrait hung on the wall, missing only me. Looking at the photo, my eyes stung. Their home never included me. When the clock struck midnight, I sat blankly on the beach in front of the shack, looking up at the stars. Caleb sent another video. The family was singing Happy Birthday to him. Serena gave him motorcycle keys, Dad gave him 5% of the company shares, and Mom personally designed a diamond-encrusted tuxedo for him. And I only received dry “Happy Birthday” texts from Mom and Serena. “Serena, what do you think Leo is doing right now?” “What else? Probably crying tears of gratitude over our text messages!” The conversation stabbed my heart. Yes. If I didn’t know the truth, I would definitely be moved to tears by those two texts. Mom finally said Happy Birthday to me personally. The cold sea wind stung my eyes. I silently saved the video Caleb sent. Along with the video I recorded outside the hospital room and the chat logs, I set two scheduled messages. One to Serena. The other to social media. Serena, by this time tomorrow, I’ll be gone. I hope you and Mom and Dad like my final gift. As dawn broke, I dragged my luggage to find the blood broker. I thought I could get the money and leave, but he looked behind me and smiled sinisterly. “I said I wouldn’t take your blood, but someone else wants to.” Shocked, I turned to see Mom and Serena rushing toward me. “Leo, quick, give blood to your brother! Only you can save him!” They dragged me to the hospital, where I saw Caleb lying pale on a bed. I instantly understood. This was their final test. But with my current condition, if this goes wrong, I will really die! “I can’t give blood right now…” Before I finished, Mom’s face changed. “Great! I knew you wanted your brother dead, didn’t you!” Just like how she accused me for three years. Serena looked disappointed and urgent. “Leo, lives are at stake, stop being willful!” “I know you don’t like him, but he’s family we raised for twenty years! Can you bear to see him suffer?” Face pale, I looked at them sincerely. “Mom, Serena. Three years ago, I didn’t say anything to make Caleb leave. I never wanted him dead. You have to believe me.” “We believe you! As long as you give him blood, we believe you!” Looking at Serena’s eager gaze and Mom’s displeasure and suspicion. I resigned myself to the bed, letting the doctor insert the needle into my arm. “If this makes you believe me, then my life… doesn’t matter.” Mom scolded, “Stop talking nonsense! It’s just a little blood, it won’t kill you!” The moment the blood was drawn, breathing became difficult, and my vision darkened. Serena whispered to the eyes-closed Caleb, “How about it? Did he pass?” Caleb lay still, no reaction. Mom said unhappily, “It’s only been a little bit, what’s the rush?” It wasn’t until the doctor drew a full bag that I completely passed out. Serena noticed something wrong first. “Leo? Good brother, it’s done. You can open your eyes now. Sister has good news for you!” But no matter how she called, I didn’t react. “Doctor! My brother’s hand is so cold, come look!” Caleb sat up in bed, looking aggrieved. “Sis, is Leo ignoring us on purpose because he didn’t want to give me blood?” Mom sneered. “He’s definitely just trying to scare us because we forced him. Leo, stop acting and get up!” The doctor checked my eyelids and pulse, turning pale with shock. “Not good! The young master has no pulse or heartbeat!” Serena and Mom froze. Only Caleb’s eyes flashed with triumph. The curtain was thrown open, and Dad, who had been hiding, couldn’t hold back anymore and rushed out. “Didn’t we agree to tell him I woke up once he passed? Why is it like this!” “Doctor, save my son!” The doctor quickly ordered the nurse to lift my shirt for defibrillation. The next second, he stared at my body in horror. “The young master lost so much blood because he had a kidney removed! With his constitution, how could he handle this?!” My parents and sister stood frozen. “How… it was just selling plasma. How could he have a kidney taken…” Serena’s face was white as she mumbled to herself. At that moment, her phone rang. She picked it up in a panic. One look, and she collapsed to the floor. “It’s from Leo. Mom, Dad! He heard what we said in the hospital room that day!” “He knew we were testing him all along!” My parents’ faces changed drastically. Dad threw himself on me, holding my hand. “Son, Dad was wrong. Dad shouldn’t have listened to them to test you. Don’t scare Dad, wake up, okay? Dad promises, no more suffering. Dad will make you the most pampered young master of the Vance family!” But no matter how he screamed, I showed no sign of waking. Seeing the defibrillator failing, the doctor ordered oxygen and a blood transfusion. But I have Rh-negative blood. The hospital had no stock. Ordering it would be too late. Dad looked up, staring coldly at Caleb on the bed. “If it weren’t for your idea of a test, Leo wouldn’t be like this. Did you want him to die so you could be the sole heir?” Dad, a veteran businessman, finally realized this adopted son wasn’t as simple as he seemed. Caleb turned pale and threw himself into Mom’s arms, crying. “Mom! I didn’t! I asked you and Serena when I thought of this. You said he drank imported supplements for days, so one bag of blood would be fine.” “Three years ago, if Dad and Serena hadn’t done everything to get panda blood for me, I would have died! Can’t we take one bag from him today? If I really hated him, why would I come up with such an easy test?” Mom hugged him and yelled at Dad. “Caleb is the child we raised for twenty years. He’s so kind, how could he be like you say! Besides, he didn’t know Leo lost a kidney! How can you blame him?” Dad was speechless, only gripping my hand tighter, urging the doctor. Caleb sensibly rolled up his sleeve to offer blood. Serena was still scrolling through her phone frantically. She seemed to see something, her eyes filling with rage. She stood up and slapped Caleb. “Serena, why did you hit your brother!” Mom gasped. “Scum like him deserves to be my brother?” Serena shoved the phone screen into our parents’ faces. They clearly saw the video Caleb sent to provoke me, and his gloating threats telling me to leave. In that moment, Dad finally exploded. “Caleb Vance, you are just an adopted son. You dare dream of replacing my own flesh and blood? You better pray my son is okay, or I will make your death very ugly.” Mom also looked at Caleb with disappointment. “Caleb, you had twenty years of love that belonged to your brother. Why weren’t you satisfied? Why did you provoke him like that?” Caleb cried that he was wrong, that he only wanted to get back at me verbally for the accident three years ago. “Mom, Dad, I didn’t really want to kill him! Take my blood. If it saves him, I’m willing to die! Consider it atonement for my immaturity!” Mom sighed. “You’re still childish.” Dad snorted and said nothing more. The doctor sweated profusely as he transfused blood into me. Finally, the monitor beeped. I started breathing again. “The patient’s will to live is very low. He shouldn’t be stimulated. We should all go out.” Under his persuasion, the family left. As soon as the door opened, Mr. Lewis stumbled over. “Chairman, it’s bad! The internet is attacking our company. Look!” Dad’s relief vanished. He checked his phone and saw tons of missed calls and messages. Online was the post I made. The video of him, the family, and Mr. Lewis plotting the test. The audio of Mom and Dad acting with Caleb to force me to kowtow. The records of my remittances from three years of hard labor. And the chat logs of the family enjoying the villa with Caleb while he taunted me. The most shocking part was an audio recording. “Your panda blood is valuable, but to get thirty thousand, we’d have to drain you dry. Are you not afraid of death?” “But there is another way. Sell a kidney. Exactly thirty thousand. Think about it.” In my hesitation, Serena’s voice message played. “Leo, they said if we don’t pay the interest, they’ll kick Dad out. He’ll die!” I hung up and said firmly, “Okay, I’ll sell a kidney.” Public opinion exploded. 【Are these parents or demons? To test their own son, they made him sell a kidney?!】 【The Vance family is evil. Torturing their bio-son for an adoptee, making him kowtow. I can’t take it!】 【Living in a mansion with the adoptee while the real son rots in a shack for three years. Wow.】 【Can his mom just die? She doesn’t deserve to be a mother…】 Seeing this comment, Mom clutched her chest and collapsed. Serena supported her, face pale, muttering: “How… how did Leo go from selling blood to selling a kidney?” Dad kicked her, furious. “It’s all your fault! Coming up with such a radical test, causing my son to sell a kidney! I don’t have such a vicious daughter!” Serena seemed to realize something. She tried to contact the subordinate who guided me. The number was disconnected. “He was my man. He said he saw Leo sell blood. How could this happen…” Serena realized the subordinate was compromised. She remembered seeing him at the hospital that morning. He hadn’t gone far! She immediately ordered people to guard the airport and stations to bring him back. Dad ordered Mr. Lewis to handle PR at any cost. They would claim the video was staged by Caleb, and the audio was guided by him. They would issue an apology letter to me, admitting their mistake. That was the best solution. But Dad underestimated the netizens’ rage. Someone dug up my attempt to leave after learning the truth. The photo showed the luggage I left behind when Serena and Mom intercepted me. Inside was a new floral quilt, a shell necklace, and a worn diary. The diary was full of gratitude to Serena for believing I wasn’t a jinx and willing to support the family with me: 【I’m used to hardship, but Serena isn’t. She’ll get cold in this shack. I scavenged for half a month to buy this quilt. I hope she likes it.】 【I have a fever. I wanted to call Serena, but I saw her in a warm villa doing business. Good. She doesn’t have to freeze with me…】 【Serena said she’s getting a big investment. Dad’s debt will be paid, and he’ll get better. Great!】 【Mom finally acknowledged my effort and let me see Dad. I’ll work harder so she accepts me!】 …

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “388826”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

It was New Year’s Day, and my parents were enjoying the holiday quietly. Our next-door neighbor, little Lily, came over to play. I went straight for the treat my mom, Julia, had bought—a beautiful, frosted raspberry mousse cake—and offered her a slice. I never imagined that one bite would send her into anaphylactic shock. By the time we rushed her to the hospital, it was too late. She was gone. Because I was under fourteen, the court ruled it an accident, and I wasn’t formally charged. But my parents, David and Julia, were left with a crushing, massive settlement to pay. My dad took on three jobs, hustling day and night to cover the debt. He was killed in a delivery truck crash late one cold night. My mom, unable to bear the shock and the grief, suffered a sudden heart attack and died almost immediately. In a single, agonizing instant, I became an orphan, a cursed child, a jinx. Everyone pointed fingers. Neighbors spit on the sidewalk when I passed. Eventually, I starved to death, alone in our tiny, empty apartment. Then, I opened my eyes. I was back. Back to New Year’s Day. The first thing I did was snatch the raspberry cake from the counter and destroy it, shoving the wreckage deep into the kitchen trash bin. I needed it gone. But Lily still died in my house. 1 “Maya, that cake looks so yummy!” Lily reached out, tiny fingers brushing the edge of the slice I was holding—the very slice I had just cut for her, a piece of the doomed dessert. My heart hammered against my ribs, a trapped bird desperate to escape. I watched her hand move toward her mouth in sickening slow motion, fear paralyzing me for a split second. Then, I reacted. I screamed, my hand lashing out, sending the plate—cake, fork, and all—flying across the kitchen and onto the floor. Lily stared at the mess, her innocent, round face crumpling in confusion and hurt. She looked like she was seconds away from a full-blown cry. “It—It’s bad!” I stammered, my voice strained and panicked. “That cake is spoiled. I have to throw it away right now.” I practically shoved her out of the kitchen, frantically sweeping up the ruined mousse and crumbs, stuffing everything into a trash bag. That cake. In my previous life, it had been the catalyst for absolute ruin. Lily’s allergy, the wrongful death, the crippling financial despair that killed my parents—all of it flowed from that one dessert. After the legal proceedings, when I was deemed only partially responsible for the accident, her parents—shattered by the loss of their only child—had focused all their venom and grief on us. They swore they would kill me to avenge Lily. My parents had been forced to sell our home, our stable, comfortable life, to pay them off and, essentially, to buy my safety. We moved to a cramped, single-room rental unit. I remembered the smell of exhaust and cheap cleaning supplies in that tiny space. I remembered my father’s haunted eyes as he left for his third shift, trying to provide the life I thought I deserved. And I remembered the silence after they were both gone, the pervasive sense that the entire world saw me as a murderer, a plague. I was isolated, tormented at school by classmates who called me a killer. I had simply given up, wasting away next to my parents’ ashes, dying of my own accord. But now, I was back. I had to stop it. I tightly sealed the trash bag and hurried downstairs, dumping it into the massive, industrial bin behind our condo building, slamming the lid down with a furious, final heave. The immense stone that had been crushing my chest for five years—the guilt and the fear—finally seemed to shift. It’s over, I thought, letting out a shaky breath. The cycle is broken. My family is safe this time. I ran back upstairs, practically flying into the apartment. But as I walked into the living room, my relief evaporated, replaced by a cold, stomach-lurching terror. Lily was on the floor. Her face was puffy and scarlet. Her small body was racked with violent, unnatural spasms, and she was clearly struggling for air, wheezing and choking. It was the exact, horrifying tableau I had witnessed five years ago, the exact symptoms of a severe allergic reaction after eating the raspberry cake. But… how? I had destroyed all the evidence. I hadn’t given her anything. Frozen in sheer disbelief for a heartbeat, I then snapped to consciousness, a shrill, desperate scream tearing from my throat. The next moments mirrored the past with nightmarish accuracy. Lily’s mom, Veronica, burst through the door. A hysterical call to 911. The sirens. The sterile, fluorescent lights of the hospital. The doctor’s grave, weary face as he delivered the same, crushing news: Lily was gone, a severe allergic reaction, too late. Veronica lunged at me, grabbing my neck with a frantic, desperate strength. “You! It’s you again! You killed my daughter! I want you to pay for this, you hear me? Pay!” Her hands tightened. I couldn’t breathe. For a frightening moment, I couldn’t tell if I had truly been reborn or if the guilt and terror had simply driven me insane, forcing me to relive the nightmare. Then my mother, Julia, and my father, David, rushed in, pulling Veronica away. They wrapped me in their protective embrace, offering endless, useless apologies. Seeing my parents—alive, whole, and still unburdened by the sorrow lines that would soon etch their faces—brought me back to reality. My voice, though weak, was firm. “Lily wasn’t killed by me.” 2 Veronica shrieked, pointing a furious finger at me over my mother’s shoulder. “You vicious brat! You think you can just lie your way out of this? She was fine this morning! She came to your house, and ten minutes later, she’s in an ambulance! Don’t tell me you didn’t do it!” Her face was twisted with pain and rage. “You’re a monster! You took my daughter’s life, and now you’re going to give yours up in return!” She was completely unhinged, looking ready to tear me limb from limb. My dad stood like a wall, shielding me completely. I quickly turned to my mother. “Mom, please, call the police. Now.” I knew Lily’s father, Mark, would be even less rational than Veronica when he arrived. In the past, my parents, believing I was responsible for an accidental death, had only offered silent apologies, enduring the onslaught of verbal abuse and physical threats. I couldn’t let that happen again. I wouldn’t let them be hurt this time. The police arrived swiftly. A couple of officers managed to contain the volatile scene. I took a deep breath, trying to steady the frantic tremor in my hands. “Officers,” I began, my voice clear despite the inner turmoil. “My mom bought a raspberry cake yesterday. This morning, I thought it tasted a little stale, so I took it downstairs and threw it away. I didn’t give Lily anything to eat. I swear. I did not kill Lily.” Veronica’s volume increased, her voice cracking with fury. “She’s lying! She’s a liar! Lily died in her house! You’re all just covering for her! You evil, conniving little beast! You killed my child, and you need to pay!” My mother stepped forward, her face firming with protective resolve, finally finding her voice. “Veronica, what happened to Lily is a tragedy for all of us. But my daughter is not a liar. We believe the police will conduct a fair and thorough investigation to uncover the truth. You need to control yourself.” Veronica immediately turned her rage on my mother. “A fair investigation? You raise a murderer, what does that make you? You people won’t get away with this! You owe my daughter a life!” The situation was spiraling again. The officers quickly intervened, physically separating the two families. The investigation began immediately. One team went to our condo building to pull security footage to verify my story. The other contacted the medical examiner to perform an autopsy on Lily to determine the precise cause of the fatal allergic reaction. Because it was a death involving a minor, the police moved with terrifying speed. Within half a day, the evidence was collected. We sat across from Lily’s parents in the police precinct’s interview room, a tense, suffocating silence filling the air. Detective Miles, the lead officer, activated the screen behind him. It showed the hallway surveillance footage from our building. Lily arriving at 9:10 AM. Me rushing down the stairs with a heavy trash bag at 9:13 AM, my face grim. Me returning at 9:16 AM, looking visibly relieved, only to immediately rush inside, followed by my scream. No one else entered or left our apartment during that time. They also showed a picture of the trash bin, where the destroyed cake was recovered. It was too mangled to determine if a full portion was missing. Veronica, her eyes swollen and red-rimmed from crying, pointed a trembling finger at the screen. “Look! She leaves looking distressed, but when she comes back, she’s relieved! She was covering her tracks! Raspberries aren’t common! I strongly suspect this wasn’t an accident. She deliberately murdered my daughter!” “I did not!” I immediately refuted. “Then why the dramatic change in your face?” Veronica demanded, her voice cutting through the room. “Why the panic before you went down, and the relief after?” I knew my expression was damning. But how could I possibly explain? I was panicking because I thought I had broken the cycle, and I was relieved because I thought I’d saved my parents. Telling them I was reborn would only get me a psychiatric evaluation. My eyes darted toward the medical examiner’s report in Detective Miles’s hand. That was the key. If the report showed no raspberry residue, I was in the clear. Lily’s reaction would be proven to have nothing to do with me or my cake. Detective Miles solemnly opened the file. “The victim’s stomach contents showed trace amounts of raspberry residue,” he read aloud. “This was the primary source that triggered the severe allergic reaction and death…” 3 The roaring in my ears drowned out everything else. Trace amounts of raspberry residue. I searched my memory again, scrutinizing every millisecond of the morning. I was one hundred percent certain Lily had not touched that cake. I had stopped her. I had thrown it away. So, where had the residue come from? The autopsy report had just sealed my fate. It was the definitive proof, the smoking gun. Lily’s parents immediately erupted, screaming, sobbing, demanding justice and retribution. My parents, accepting the inevitable, tried to apologize, pleading for their forgiveness. Dazed, numb, I allowed my parents to lead me home. It wasn’t until my mom, Julia, quietly mentioned selling the condo to cover the new settlement that I fully snapped back. “No! Mom, Dad, you can’t sell the house! Absolutely not!” If we sold the house, the dominoes would fall exactly as before: the tiny apartment, the crushing debt, Dad’s overwork, the accident, Mom’s heart attack. What was the point of being reborn if I just led them to the same tragic end? Mom knelt beside me, stroking my hair. “Sweetheart, when you make a mistake, you have to own it. It was an accident, a terrible one, but Lily died because of something that happened in our home. We have to make it right.” Dad added, “Losing a child is unimaginable. If we don’t compensate them fully, we can’t guarantee your safety. Money can be replaced, Maya. We just need you safe.” I knew they loved me. That love was the very thing I needed to protect. I was adamant. “No! I refuse! You have to believe me. I did not give Lily that cake. I did not kill her.” They exchanged a look of pity and concern, convinced I was trying to avoid responsibility. “Maya, we raised you better than this. It’s okay to admit a mistake. We will face this together,” Dad admonished, his voice strained with worry. “But I’m telling you the truth! Lily’s death has nothing to do with me! She didn’t eat—” My voice hitched as my eyes fell on a decorative doll figurine perched on the living room table. It was a novelty toy, a silly thing I’d bought years ago, intending to use its hidden eye-camera to film my hamster. I’d forgotten all about it. The camera. My mind raced. I knew exactly how Lily died. It wasn’t an accident. It was murder. My parents and I drove back to the precinct, the tiny doll clutched in my hand. When we walked out hours later, I was no longer a suspect. The police immediately launched a full-scale investigation, interviewing Lily’s parents, her teachers, neighbors, and even the cake shop owner. Everyone became a potential suspect. Lily’s parents, outraged by the police’s shift in focus, staged a massive protest right outside the station, accusing us of collusion and bribery. They went straight to the media, appearing on local news channels and posting emotional videos that instantly went viral. They knelt before the cameras, weeping openly and pleading for justice. “Please, help us! Our daughter, Lily, was murdered in our neighbor’s home! Their daughter, Maya, fed her raspberries, knowing she had a deadly allergy!” “The evidence is clear, but they’ve corrupted the police and somehow walked free! Now, absurdly, the police are questioning us, the victims! We adored our daughter! Who are the real monsters here? Is there any justice left in the world?” The online response was immediate and overwhelming. We were swamped by a tide of abuse. “Hell is empty and all the devils are here!” “The parents must be trash to raise a killer like that! Lightning should strike them down!” “The juvenile protection laws protect the guilty! They need to make an example of this demon!” The virtual outcry escalated into a real-world threat. My parents’ workplaces were targeted with malicious reports, forcing them to take immediate leave. Our phones were saturated with hate mail and death threats. Our front door was defaced with violent red spray paint. Every morning, we found grim offerings—funeral wreaths, fake condolence cards, and pictures of my parents and me with black ribbons pasted over them—left on our doorstep. Afraid of being physically attacked by an irrational mob, we huddled together inside the condo. But despite the chaos, I felt a peculiar sense of calm. I knew this living nightmare would soon end. We were in constant communication with Detective Miles, following the investigation. Three days later, the phone rang. Detective Miles’s voice was tight with emotion. “Maya. We found the killer.”

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I went to my childhood friend’s room to give him fruit, but he yelled at me: “Can you stop just barging into my room? We aren’t kids anymore.” He wasn’t wearing headphones. His junior, a girl with a sickeningly sweet voice, was on speakerphone, deliberately provoking me: “Caleb, let’s fall asleep on a voice call tonight too.” I casually agreed and told him not to come into my room anymore either. He sneered: “Who cares?” I thought so too. I went back to my room and happily opened my wardrobe: “You don’t have to hide in here next time. He won’t come into my room again.” Chapter 1 I knocked on the door for a while. There was no movement inside. I pursed my swollen lips, feeling a bit impatient. But Julian was still teasing me through my earphones: “Hiss, it’s so cold.” The sound of metal clinking came from the other end of the line. Just hearing it, I could imagine the vivid scene of him putting a body chain on himself. My voice was dry: “I’ll be back soon, don’t rush.” Then I kicked open Caleb’s door. Smack. Caleb slammed his phone face down on the desk, making a loud noise. Seeing me, a hint of guilty panic flashed in his eyes. I glanced at him casually. No headphones. He was ignoring me on purpose. I didn’t care. I put the fruit on the table and turned to leave. “My mom sent these.” “Caleb, you scared Sweetie.” His voice overlapped with the delicate, whiny voice of Mia “Sweetie” Miller on the phone. Caleb instinctively went to comfort her. Seeing I was about to leave, he grabbed my wrist. The initial guilt turned into anger: “Zoey, can you stop barging into my room? Do you think we’re still kids?” His brows furrowed in annoyance, as if I was pestering him endlessly. Mia chimed in: “Yeah, big sister, boys and girls are different. My mom taught me from a young age not to go into other boys’ rooms.” I was fully focused on listening to Julian’s increasingly rapid breathing through my earphones, my mind elsewhere. I replied casually: “Right, everything you said is right.” But that made Mia cry. Caleb looked at me impatiently, as if I had committed a heinous crime: “Why do you always bully Sweetie? I told you we’re just friends. Do you have to target her all the time?” Chapter 2 Mia even stopped her fake crying. I guessed she was probably rolling her eyes in anger. After all, not long ago I caught her bragging to her socialite sisters that she would take Caleb down within a week. But I was too lazy to tell Caleb that. We’ve been childhood friends for eighteen years. Everyone thought we had a deep bond and assumed we’d marry after graduation. I thought so too. Until Mia appeared. Caleb skipped classes, failed exams, and got into fights for her. The once-promising golden boy willingly degenerated because of Mia’s line: “I don’t make friends with people who are too educated; it puts pressure on me.” I tried to intervene at first, dragging Caleb back to class from the smoke-filled pool hall. But I walked in on him bending over, his body pressed tightly against Mia’s. His large hand wrapped around her small one as they sank the first ball. Mia pretended to be surprised and turned her head to kiss his cheek. Caleb stood frozen, his eyes full of the tenderness of first love. I almost threw up watching it. Caleb discovered my presence and chased after me. The jacket around his waist barely hid his awkward reaction. He begged me, saying they were just friends, and asked me to hide it from his mom. I didn’t believe him, but I was too lazy to care. But obviously, Mia’s brain was full of female competition. She was enjoying her meal but couldn’t believe others didn’t want a bite. She treated me as an imaginary enemy. Last night, Mia sent me a screenshot of her Instagram post. In the picture, they were kissing passionately at the top of a Ferris wheel. The caption read: “Legend has it that lovers who kiss at the highest point of a Ferris wheel will be together forever.” Caleb liked the post. I thought Mia’s dream finally came true. But today Caleb told me they were just friends. Chapter 3 Right, you kissed, but you’re just friends. I held back the urge to roll my eyes. I skillfully hit the point he cared about most: “I won’t tell my godmother, but you have to agree to one condition.” Caleb didn’t speak, but Mia screamed: “Forced love isn’t sweet! Don’t push your luck!” Caleb frowned, clearly agreeing with her. I don’t know where they got the idea that I was desperate for Caleb and deeply in love with him. Thinking I’d seize any opportunity to make Caleb commit to me. I was speechless. Caleb misinterpreted my silence. His eyes held reluctance and a sense of charity: “One week at most.” “No.” One week isn’t enough. I have so many tricks I haven’t played with Julian yet. It’s all Caleb’s fault for having zero boundaries and always barging into my room. I stared at Caleb, hoping he’d realize his rudeness. Caleb looked disgusted and annoyed, with an expression that said “I knew it”: “Zoey, I told you I only see you as a sister.” “You can’t enter my room for at least a month.” My voice rang out at the same time as his. Caleb’s face turned frighteningly ugly. He had just been narcissistic and felt he lost face. Then he thought again, believing I was playing hard to get, and regained his composed posture. He sneered coldly: “Don’t flatter yourself. Who cares?” My goal achieved, I didn’t bother responding and turned to leave. Mia obviously didn’t believe I wasn’t interested in Caleb either. She spoke softly and sweetly: “Caleb, let’s sleep on a voice call tonight.” Caleb deliberately raised his voice: “Okay. As long as it’s you, whatever you say.” I paused, lost in thought. How could I convince Julian to pant for me on a voice call from now on? Chapter 4 I opened my bedroom door; it was empty. I didn’t rush. I gently tapped our secret code. But I still didn’t hear any movement. I knew Julian was angry. I walked up and opened the wardrobe to coax him: “You don’t have to hide in here next time. He won’t come into my room again.” Julian was expressionless, looking nothing like the person who was seducing me through the earphones: “A month?” Obviously, he heard everything just now. I explained while secretly swallowing my saliva. My eyes pitifully followed the chain that was mostly covered by his shirt, only revealing a little bit. I was craving it so bad: “I just said it casually. I embarrassed him in front of someone else. Given his personality, he’ll never come.” “Can you let me see if it fits first, please?” I didn’t know which word triggered him. Julian’s face became even gloomier: “You care so much about him, but you have to hide me.” I was a bit confused: “Didn’t you propose this in the beginning?” I didn’t intend to cross the line with Julian at first. He was my dad’s favorite student. When I was in high school, he was in college. Due to family changes, he stayed at my house for a while. Later we met again at the university anniversary. He returned as an outstanding entrepreneur to give a speech. We looked at each other from a distance. My heart skipped a beat, and I lowered my head in flustered palpitations. Although I had a crush on him, I couldn’t tell how he felt about me. I only secretly thought about how to pursue him. Until one day we were discussing business seriously. Caleb suddenly came back. Julian hid in my wardrobe like a lover caught by the husband. Making me inexplicably nervous. After Caleb left, I opened the wardrobe. The person who was serious just now was curled up, clutching my silk nightgown in his hand. His shirt buttons were half undone, revealing the deep definition of his chest. Acting like a seductress. He hooked his lips frivolously: “Want to try? It’s exciting.” I was at the age where love was blooming; how could I resist such temptation? By the time I reacted, I had already nodded in agreement and was being held in his arms, coaxed into a kiss.

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My parents were responsible for the death of his parents. Because of this hatred, Asher Vance kept me as his lover for nine years. In those nine years, he told me countless times how much he hated me. Yet, he would drop a hundred-million-dollar project and fly back to the country just to make me soup when I caught a cold. I thought our feelings had long surpassed that old hatred. Until, two months after I gave birth to his child, I overheard a conversation between him and another woman. “Asher, the baby has stopped breathing. How are you going to explain this to Iris?” Asher answered without hesitation: “Explain what? The child of an enemy giving his life for our experiment is his fortune.” “It’s just right to let that woman see what it feels like to have her closest kin die tragically before her eyes!” It turned out he had been waiting bitterly for nine years just to truly take revenge on me. Holding my child’s ashes, I walked to the riverside, distraught, ready to end my own life. But as my body plummeted rapidly, he turned pale and tried to jump with me. Chapter 1 “Since you know everything, there’s no need for me to hide it from you anymore.” The white laboratory walls carried an impersonal coldness. Asher looked at me, a flash of pain quickly passing through his eyes, yet his words were heartless. “He is indeed dead.” “Injected with a large amount of experimental drugs by my own hands.” I stared at him in a daze, my hands trembling uncontrollably. “Why…” “That was your child too!” I moved my lips, realizing my voice was hoarse when I spoke. Asher looked at me silently for a few seconds, then turned his head away. “I told you countless times, Iris…” “Because of hate. I hate your parents, I hate you, and I also hate your child.” Hate… The familiar word appeared in my ears again. I bit my lip. In nine years, I don’t remember how many times I’ve heard it. He hated my parents for doing nothing during his family company’s crisis, dumping the entire mess on his parents. They even took all the funds and fled far away. Leaving his parents with no way out, choosing to end their lives with a bottle of sleeping pills. But he always talked about hating me while treating me well without restraint. He would drive all night to take me to see the sunrise at the beach just because I said I was bored. He would hold my hand in winter, putting it in his pocket for warmth. Sometimes, when the mood struck, he would even take the eyebrow pencil from my hand and draw my eyebrows for me, bit by bit. Then he would look at his clumsy handiwork and laugh embarrassedly. I thought… I thought that the hatred he constantly proclaimed would eventually fade with time. But now, when I questioned him in disbelief, he sneered: “Iris, because I could see that the better I treated you, the guiltier you would feel.” “It was just acting out a love drama with you.” “What, did you take it seriously?” My body went limp uncontrollably, my hands subconsciously touching my lower abdomen. The scar left by the C-section throbbed faintly, mixing with the pain in my heart, pressing down until I couldn’t breathe. With just a few words, he easily destroyed all my inner defenses. My hands gripping his collar dropped suddenly, feeling cold all over. I couldn’t help but laugh at myself mockingly. I was really too foolish, foolish enough to believe that between two people with a blood feud, love could grow lush and leafy across that hatred. But I still remember when I was eighteen, approaching college entrance exams but with both parents dead, living alone in a dilapidated rental room. I held a fruit knife, gesturing at my wrist. Thinking about where it would be appropriate to cut, but lacking the courage to really do it. A bed, a set of table and chairs, some pots and pans occupied almost the entire space of the room. Asher stood at the door, looking at the room with barely a place to stand, emotions in his eyes changing for a long time. Finally, he punched the wall behind me angrily and dragged me away by the wrist. I squatted down in despair, crying uncontrollably. Chapter 2 The urgent ringing of a cell phone sounded at that moment. I don’t know what the person on the other end said, but Asher glanced at me with a complicated expression. “Then just take him directly for cremation.” My heart shrunk as if sensing something, and I understood almost instantly. I desperately grabbed the corner of Asher’s clothes, as if grasping the last straw. “What cremation?” “Who are you going to cremate?” He didn’t answer me, just coldly pried my hands open, finger by finger. He said: “Go back to the hospital and stay there properly.” The way he threw me off forcefully was as if I wasn’t the girlfriend who had been with him for nine years, but a piece of useless trash. Although to Asher now, I, this girlfriend, seemed to be just a piece of trash. In this instant, I seemed to lose all strength. From this moment on, the will to die had taken root in my heart. After a long silence, I looked at him with red eyes, my voice already hoarse. “Asher, I want to see him…” But Asher promised nothing. He just gave me an indifferent look and turned his back. “You’d better go back to the hospital and stay put.” “Chloe, let’s go.” He took Chloe away, walking to the end of the corridor without ever looking back at me. I stared blankly at their retreating figures, watching them go further and further away. Just as they were about to disappear from my sight. I wiped the tears from my face and got up to follow them. I ran urgently, almost pushing Chloe down. “You!” Chloe’s face turned livid. Just as she was about to accuse me of something, In the next second, she saw me pull out the fruit knife I had prepared long ago. Slowly pressing it against my own throat. I looked at Asher, my expression calm, yet acting like a madwoman. I said: “Asher, take me to see him.” Chapter 3 Asher’s hand opening the car door paused slightly, his eyes holding some ambiguous emotion. “Want to send him off on his last journey?” I slowly lowered my head under his gaze. “Yes.” “Asher, I just want to see him…” “Please, can I?” “If you’re still not satisfied, take my life too…” For a moment, a trace of mockery appeared on Asher’s face. He seemed to think I was begging him only because I didn’t want to die. He pinched the wrist holding the knife, pushing it closer to my throat, and sneered. “Iris, do you think I really care about your life?” “If you want to die, find a quiet place. Don’t dirty mine and Chloe’s eyes.” “Besides, do you really dare to die?” After finishing, he drove away with Chloe, leaving me behind. Before getting into the car, Chloe looked me up and down. The disdain in her eyes made me clench my fists hidden under my clothes. Asher thought the laboratory was far in the suburbs and hard to get a taxi to. As long as he left with Chloe, no matter how unwilling I was, I would behave. But he didn’t expect that I, who had always been cowardly, after a moment of silence, lifted my feet and chased after them. I don’t know where the strength and courage came from. Through the rearview mirror, he could clearly see my figure running behind the car. Stubbornly, with all my might, chasing his receding car. Falling, getting up, falling again, getting up again… Falling over and over, climbing up over and over. As if I had lost my pain receptors. Asher slammed on the brakes, cursing under his breath. “Madwoman.” Seeing the car finally stop in the distance, hope suddenly rose in my heart. In a journey both distant and shallow, I stumbled and ran onto the car. It was clearly a scorching summer, but the temperature inside the car was cold enough to make one shiver. In the back seat, I hugged myself tightly, trying to find a tiny bit of energy from my own embrace. But the result always disappointed me. I couldn’t find the strength to support living anymore. Even when the car drove onto the cross-river bridge, I seriously considered it for a moment. If I jumped out of the car here and threw myself into the river to die. It seemed not bad. The laboratory was somewhat far from the crematorium. When we arrived there, it was almost evening. When getting out of the car, Asher reflexively reached out his hand to me. And for the first time in my life, I ignored him and rushed straight towards the morgue. Walking past corpse after corpse, I never found my baby. I don’t know how to describe my mood at that time. Was it despair, or relief… I repeatedly paralyzed myself in my heart. Maybe, this is just a dream of mine. In the dream, flowers withered, lifeless. But actually, my baby is still safely receiving treatment. Maybe in a few months, when I wake up from this dream, our family will be reunited. I didn’t know, I was just mechanically, numbly looking for my baby. When I came out of the morgue distraught, I happened to meet a staff member pushing a corpse towards the fire pit. I stopped as if feeling something. When I saw the corpse, I recognized him almost at a glance. That was my baby… In the two months since he was born, I had only seen him three times and held him once. They said the baby was weak and needed treatment in a sterile room. So every time I saw him, it was through a thick glass wall. I was outside, he was inside. I hadn’t even given him a name yet. In the two months after his birth, I looked through numerous classics but couldn’t find two suitable characters. I thought, when he gets better, I must… Must give him the name with the best meaning in the world. But I never imagined that our fourth meeting would be like this. He lay there quietly, being pushed towards the fire ahead by the staff. Chapter 4 The world seemed to have been muted. At this moment, there was no sound in my world. Only the flickering flames dancing in front of my eyes. And my child about to be pushed into the fire, disappearing from my world bit by bit. At that moment, I had long forgotten that the fire was enough to burn me to death. I couldn’t even hear the staff’s exclamations. Ghosts and gods at work, I rushed forward and threw myself into the fire. I wanted to hug him one more time. “Baby…” Sorry, really sorry. It was me who didn’t protect you well. Or maybe, I shouldn’t have given birth to you. A life carrying hatred ultimately won’t be happy. But, do you know how happy I was the moment I learned you had life in my belly… The scorching flames burned my skin bit by bit. But as if I couldn’t feel the pain, I rushed forward recklessly. I thought, anyway, my life is already rotten, dying with the baby like this seems not bad. “Iris, what are you doing?” Asher dragged me back from the fire desperately. By the firelight, I saw my reflection in Asher’s eyes. Messy and crazy. His eyes held emotions I couldn’t read. Like anger, like panic, and it seemed there was also a little bit of: pity. He gripped my shoulders tightly, his strength terrifying. “Do you want to die?” I collapsed weakly. He was right, I didn’t know the meaning of living anymore. “Yes, Asher, I don’t want to live…” “I’ve lived enough.” “Asher, let me die with the baby…” Under the firelight, I cried uncontrollably. Asher’s expression changed abruptly, a few traces of panic appearing in his eyes where I couldn’t see. Then, he grabbed my arm tightly again, forcing me to look at him. “Die?” “Iris, are you even worthy of dying?” “You have to live, live to atone for your parents.” His cold, hard expression pierced into my eyes, carrying a thorough chill. Like the substantive wind blades in a snowy night. “Also, don’t threaten me with death again.” “At eighteen you were too cowardly to die, do you think after nine years, you have the courage?” Looking at my breakdown, Asher felt as if his heart had been pricked by a tiny needle. Not very painful, but the strange feeling was particularly obvious. In a trance, another me appeared before him. The me who once fell asleep on the sofa waiting for him to come home. The me who carefully pulled his sleeve asking for forgiveness when making a mistake. The me who cried to him with red eyes when accidentally cutting a finger. The me who stubbornly ran into the kitchen to hug him from behind, refusing to rest even when sick and weak… These versions of me gradually merged with the me crying hysterically in front of him. Yet they seemed like two different people. For no reason, his heart felt a bit uncomfortable. Asher tightly clenched his hands hidden in his cuffs, forcefully suppressing the wave-like emotions in his heart. He took the urn handed over by the staff and threw it to me without hesitation. Like throwing away a hot potato. Under the night sky, his tone was cold and hard. “Done crying? Then take your son and get lost back home.” He left with Chloe, ignoring me behind him, almost crying to the point of fainting. Under the night sky, I held the child’s ashes, walking step by step back to the “home” I had lived in for nine years. The summer night wind wasn’t cold, but at that moment I felt there was not a trace of warmth left in this world. When I got home, Asher was leaning obliquely against the back of the sofa, thinking about something. He saw me, his gaze swept over the box tightly held in my arms, and his eyelids drooped. The words he spoke were ugly and piercing. “Only you treat him as a treasure.” These words were like heavy rain on a summer night, beating on my heart, provoking my anger towards him. For the first time in my life, I retorted with sarcasm. “Naturally can’t compare to you, who can even lay a hand on your own son.” Asher looked as if a sore spot had been pricked. A flash of pain passed through his eyes when he looked at me, but he refused to admit defeat. Finally, he snorted coldly and went back to his room.

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My parents lived by a single, brutal principle: they would end our fights, but they would never judge them. No matter how badly my sister and I fought, they refused to step in. “We can’t be the judges for you two,” my mother would say. “One of you will always think it’s unfair.” “So if you want something, you fight for it. If you’re not strong enough, you learn to live without it.” “And don’t come crying to us. The tattletale is the one who gets punished.” But I could never win against my ferocious younger sister, Zoe. Snacks, toys, new dresses—they never even made it into my hands before she’d snatched them away, usually after giving me a good shove for my trouble. To avoid the bruises, I stopped fighting. I stopped arguing. Until my kitten, Ginger, got sick. I ran for my piggy bank, my heart pounding with the need to save him. It was empty. Zoe just laughed. “I spent all that money ages ago,” she sneered. “Guess that little furball will just have to die.” A rage I’d never felt before boiled up inside me. I lunged at her, but she just threw me to the ground and beat me. Again. Something in me snapped. I ran sobbing to my mother, breaking the one sacred rule. But Mom’s words were the same cold, hard wall they’d always been: “This is between you and your sister, Chelsea. I’m not getting involved.” 1 I clung to her shirt, my words choked with tears. “But Ginger has a fever. He’s so hot, he won’t even open his eyes.” She pushed me away, her patience wearing thin. “Chelsea, you know the rules. No tattling. If you want your money back, you get it back yourself.” My sobs grew louder, more desperate. “But I can’t beat her! I’ve never won a single fight. I can’t get it back, Mom. Please, I’m begging you.” No matter how much I cried, she wouldn’t budge. Our battles were our own. She wouldn’t pay for the vet, either. Instead, she turned the blame on me. “If something happens to Ginger, it’s your fault. Why didn’t you protect him better? I told you not to get a cat in the first place. You promised you’d take care of him, so what are you doing now, just crying about it?” Zoe stood behind her, sticking her tongue out. “Tattletale, tattletale, shame on you.” My mother, fed up with my wailing, finally shoved me aside and walked away. I clutched my side where Zoe’s nails had scratched me, the skin still stinging. I looked over at Ginger, curled into a tiny, shivering ball in the corner, his eyes barely slits. I had no choice. Swallowing my pride, I sniffled and went to Zoe. “Give me the money back,” I pleaded, “and I’ll do your homework for you. For the rest of the year.” I added, “And I’ll do all the chores from now on. You’ll never have to lift a finger again.” I had nothing to bargain with. I had nothing in this house that was truly mine. She’d once pried a cookie out of my mouth just because she decided she wanted it. All my allowance, all my birthday money—she stole it all. The cash in the piggy bank was a special reward from my uncle for babysitting my cousin all summer. I’d hidden it so carefully, tucked away behind the circuit breaker box in the hallway. And still, she had found it. And taken it. Zoe just flexed her little bicep. “Nope. I’m keeping the money. And you’ll still do everything for me anyway. Because you’re a weak, useless loser who can’t fight back.” The rage surged again, hot and blinding. “If you don’t give me the money, I’ll die before I ever help you again!” At that, she flew at me. She pinned me to the floor, her weight crushing me. She was so much stronger. One of her hands clamped down on both of my wrists, and I couldn’t break free. I was trapped, helpless, as she slapped my face over and over. I screamed, a wild, hysterical sound. My dad walked in from work, saw the scene on the floor, and just sighed, walking right past us into the kitchen. Zoe grinned, her face inches from mine. “You don’t help me,” she hissed, “and I’ll beat you like this. Every. Single. Day.” 2 I couldn’t lose Ginger. But I couldn’t win against Zoe. I was sobbing so hard I could barely breathe. Cradling Ginger in my arms, I stumbled out of the house. And ran right into the old lady from next door. She had a strangely kind smile. “Zoe been giving you trouble again?” she asked, her voice a raspy whisper. “You’re too gentle, dear. If you can’t beat her head-on, why not try something a little more… clever? A little something in her drink. Some sleeping pills. Nothing that’ll kill her, of course. Just enough to take the fight out of her.” My mother always said the old lady next door was a bad influence. That I should never listen to her. But she had a point. I hugged Ginger tighter, and he let out a weak, trusting meow. In that moment, my heart turned to stone. I searched the house, pulling open drawers and rummaging through medicine cabinets. Finally, I found them: Mom’s sleeping pills. I pocketed the bottle. Then I went to my room and staged a fake phone call, speaking loudly enough for Zoe to overhear. “That new beauty supplement you gave me is amazing! My skin is already glowing!” I knew Zoe was jealous of me. Jealous that I was fair-skinned and pretty, that all the kids at school liked me. She took after our grandfather—dark and brawny. She’d secretly tried Mom’s diet pills and slathered her face with Mom’s expensive creams. I knew she wouldn’t be able to resist the “secret beauty pills.” Sure enough, she stomped into my room a few minutes later, demanding them. I refused. If I gave them up too easily, she might get suspicious. Predictably, she started hitting me. She grabbed a textbook from my desk and slammed it against the side of my head. A dull, throbbing pain spread across my face. Finally, I “confessed” where the pills were hidden. She scrambled to find them. The moment she had the bottle, she twisted it open and poured the entire contents into her mouth, swallowing them dry. My breath caught in my throat. I just held Ginger, unable to watch. Soon, she was sprawled on her bed, fast asleep. I tiptoed over and whispered her name. No response. I shook her shoulder. Nothing. I frantically searched for her money stash, my hands shaking. After what felt like an eternity, I found it. I didn’t waste a second. I grabbed the cash, scooped up Ginger, and slipped out of the house. I didn’t know where the nearest animal hospital was, so I went to my grandma’s house and got my older cousin, Mark, to drive us. It was a long night, but finally, Ginger was safe at the clinic, an IV drip in his tiny paw. The vet said he’d be fine in a couple of days. But the money I had was only enough to cover the first day. Without a second’s hesitation, I told the receptionist, “That’s fine. I have more.” It was the first time I had ever successfully taken something back from Zoe. And I knew it wouldn’t be the last. My heart was racing. I had found her weakness. I had found a way to win. She could beat me with her fists, but I had my brain. I was always at the top of my class, after all. On the way home, I used the last fifty cents I had to buy an ice cream bar. It was the first time I’d ever eaten a treat without the fear of it being ripped from my hands. A deep, unfamiliar sense of satisfaction bloomed in my chest. I was already planning my next move. One pill a day, and she’d never have the strength to hit me again. But when I walked through the front door, the first thing I saw was my parents, their faces pale with panic, carrying a limp, vomiting Zoe towards the door. I froze. They saw me and immediately grabbed my arm, yanking me along with them. “We have to take Chelsea too,” my dad said, his voice tight with fear. “If it’s food poisoning, she could be next.”

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At the college reunion, my husband, Liam, led me by the hand to a table of his old friends. “This is Clara,” he announced, a fond smile on his face. “My best ‘buddy’ from back in the day. You can just call her ‘Her Majesty,’ like I do.” So this was her. The infamous “one that got away,” the name that made all his old classmates exchange knowing glances. She was dressed simply, in a white button-down and jeans, looking almost as young as she must have in college. But her smile held a complicated edge. “Liam,” she said softly, her voice a low murmur. “It’s been a while. Brought another girlfriend for me to approve?” I met her gaze and smiled back, my own smile bright and unwavering. “I’m sorry,” I said, my voice clear and pleasant. “I’m Liam’s wife.” 1 The air in the private dining room went still. Clara shot Liam a look, her tone laced with amusement. “You got married?” “Yeah…” Liam mumbled, glancing at me before quickly looking away. He sat down and, without a word, pulled her half-eaten bowl of appetizers toward him and started finishing them off. The table erupted in laughter. “Haha, classic Liam! Only ever this whipped for Clara!” Clara’s gaze flickered to me, a silent, challenging smile playing on her lips. I sipped my champagne, feigning indifference, but a fire was already starting to burn in my gut. As the night wore on and the drinks flowed, someone shouted for them to do a cross-armed toast, a tradition usually reserved for newlyweds. “Come on, Liam,” Clara said, holding up her wine glass, her voice casual but carrying. “We do this at every reunion. Your wife won’t mind, will she?” “Her Majesty’s word is law,” Liam declared, already reaching for his glass. “She wouldn’t dare have an opinion.” His eagerness made Clara laugh, a bright, tinkling sound that grated on my nerves. The moment their arms began to intertwine, something inside me snapped. I shot to my feet. Under the stunned gazes of the entire table, I snatched the glass from Liam’s hand, clinked it against Clara’s, and downed the contents in one go. “I don’t care who you were to him in the past,” I said, my voice steady as I surveyed the room. “But he is my husband now. And that is not a toast you make with another woman.” I let my gaze linger on each of them. “Men and women both should have some sense of shame, some boundaries. If you have neither, then you’re just shameless.” The mood soured instantly. Clara’s smile froze on her face. Liam panicked, pulling me back down into my seat. “Why are you being so serious? It’s just a drinking game. They’re my old friends, they’re just joking around.” He lowered his voice. “Just be cool for a minute, okay? Don’t actually piss her off. She’s impossible when she’s mad.” Clara just blinked, a mocking little smile playing on her lips. I was about to explode. “Isn’t that a toast for a husband and wife? You call that a joke? Do you people not understand the concept of respect, or is the point of this reunion to see how many marriages you can break up?” I turned my glare on her. “And what kind of ‘majesty’ insists on doing that with a married man?” Clara’s composure finally cracked. She stared at me, the challenge in her eyes hardening into open hostility. “Wow, Liam. Your new wife is quite the firecracker. She’s got me shaking in my boots.” She paused, her voice dripping with condescension. “But honestly, she’s a bit of a prude, isn’t she? Doesn’t even understand party etiquette. So boring.” With that, she grabbed her purse and stood up. She gave Liam a look that clearly said, Fix this, and walked out. “Your Majesty, wait!” Liam scrambled after her, pure panic on his face. He shot me a furious glare before chasing her out of the room, leaving me alone with the silent, staring table. They all looked at me with a kind of pitying amusement, as if I were a clown who’d just flubbed her act. My hands clenched into fists. I grabbed a plate of leftover bones from the table and walked out, intending to feed the small dog I had tied up just outside the door. Liam had caught up with Clara in the hallway. The fawning, desperate man I saw was a world away from the calm, collected husband I knew. “Don’t be mad, please,” he was begging. “She’s just small-minded, she doesn’t know any better. Don’t stoop to her level, okay?” “Don’t go. How about… how about I make her serve you tea and apologize?” Clara’s expression softened. A small, triumphant smile broke through. Seeing me approach, a cunning glint appeared in her eyes. “You said it, not me,” she purred. “Fine. I’ll give you one more chance.” “Great! I’ll get her to apologize right now.” Liam breathed a sigh of relief and turned around. When he saw me, he rushed over and pulled me in front of Clara, his voice almost pleading. “Can you just stop it? Say something nice to her. I’m going to get some wine, and then you’re going to apologize properly.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. As he went back into the room, a wave of laughter followed him. Clara looked me up and down, then spoke in a low, conspiratorial tone. “Back in college, Liam would do anything I said. He confessed his love to me several times, but I never said yes.” “Every girlfriend he’s ever had looked a little like me. He had to bring them all to me for my approval. He wouldn’t continue dating them unless I gave him the nod.” My head snapped up. And for the first time, I saw it—the startling resemblance in the shape of our eyes, the curve of our mouths. Her voice dropped even lower, a venomous whisper in my ear. “This time, he married you without my permission. And I’m not very happy about it.” “Do you want to bet? All I have to do is frown, and he’ll divorce you in a heartbeat.” Before I could process her words, she lifted her foot and brought it down, hard, on my little dog. Rage, white-hot and blinding, consumed me. “Clara, what are you doing? Get off him!” She pressed down with all her weight. I couldn’t budge her. The dog yelped in pain, a series of high-pitched, desperate cries, but no one from the party came out. Then, provoked beyond endurance, the dog twisted and bit her on the ankle. It wasn’t deep, just enough to break the skin. “Ow! Ah, that hurts!” she shrieked, snatching her foot back. Her cry was the signal. The door flew open and everyone poured out into the hallway. Liam was the first one out. He saw the tiny teeth marks on Clara’s ankle, and a look of such violence crossed his face it made my blood run cold. He disappeared back into the room and emerged a second later with a fruit knife. “You bit her? I’ll kill you, you stupid animal!” he roared, lunging at the dog. The dog was chained and couldn’t escape. Liam stabbed it again and again. It collapsed, trembling, its whimpers echoing down the corridor. I lost my mind. I threw myself at him, shoving him away. I gathered the bleeding, dying animal into my arms, my voice a raw, shredded scream. “Liam, what gives you the right? That dog was the last thing my father ever gave me!” “It was Clara! She started it! It wasn’t his fault, check the security cameras if you don’t believe me…” Suddenly, Clara stumbled and fell into Liam’s arms, her voice a terrified cry. “Liam, thank god you’re here! I was so scared!” Seeing her distress, Liam’s panic returned. He dropped the knife and wrapped his arms around her, holding her so tightly it looked like he was trying to merge their bodies into one. “It’s okay, Your Majesty. I’m here. I’ve got you.” The classmates gathered around, their expressions unsurprised. One of them shot me a contemptuous look. “Everyone knows Clara is terrified of dogs. Why would she ever go near yours?” “You’ve got some nerve, lady,” another one chimed in. “Messing with the one person Liam actually cares about.” He swept Clara up into his arms, his face a dark, thunderous mask as he pushed past me. “Anna,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “You’ve gone too far.” I froze. It was the first time he had ever looked at me with anything but affection. 2 The dog twitched in my arms, a small, pained spasm that jolted me back to reality. I scrambled to my feet and followed them. While Liam went to get the car, Clara dropped her frightened act. She looked me over, her expression smug. “See? Now you believe me. Even married to you, I’m still the one he can’t live without.” “Do you know why he listens to everything I say?” I didn’t answer. My breathing had become slow and shallow. Clara let out a small, derisive laugh, her gaze drifting toward the parking garage. “We were neighbors, back in the day. He had an abusive, alcoholic father and a mother who was a doormat. My mom and I were the only ones who ever looked out for him.” “One time in college, he had a raging fever. All his roommates had gone home for the weekend. I snuck into his dorm to take care of him. The dorm mother was doing rounds, so I had to hide on his balcony for half the night.” “It was the middle of winter, Anna. It was freezing. When it was safe, Liam pulled me inside and just held me, his eyes all red. He swore he would listen to me forever, that he’d worship me like a queen.” “He told me he loved me. I turned him down. Later, when he found out I was dating someone else, he tried to kill himself. I guess you were the one who picked up the pieces.” Liam’s car pulled up to the curb. Her voice remained light, but every word was a poisoned dart. “We have a shared history, a shared pain. We’re on the same wavelength. That one night is worth more than a lifetime of your efforts.” “Tell me,” she finished, her voice dripping with scorn, “what do you possibly have that can compete with that?” I stood there, stunned, my mind reeling. I met Liam at the hospital. My father had flown back to the country for surgery, and I was there every day. Liam was in the next bed. He’d been admitted for depression after a suicide attempt. He wouldn’t talk to anyone, except me. I was drawn to his intelligence, his quiet charisma. I thought I was special. I gave up my studies abroad to stay by his side. My father, seeing how much I cared for him, not only approved of our marriage but sponsored his continued education, sending him to the best medical programs in the world. He even served as a test subject for a new drug Liam was developing, helping him secure his reputation. That drug eventually killed him. The accumulated toxins in his system were too much. He passed away six months ago. Liam, grateful for my father’s patronage, had never once raised his voice to me. Until today. Whenever I missed my father, no matter how busy he was, he would drive me to the cemetery. The screech of tires pulled me back to the present. I met Clara’s triumphant gaze and let out a cold laugh. “Why are you telling me all this? Are you trying to show off? Or does stringing him along just give you a thrill?” “Anna!” Liam’s voice was sharp, a clear rebuke. I didn’t bother explaining. I just got into the car, holding my dog. Clara, however, stood by the door, her eyes welling with tears. “Liam, where did you find this woman? I was only telling her our history so she wouldn’t feel insecure. And she just attacks me, as if I’ve done something terrible to her.” She sniffled. “It’s okay, you should take her dog to the vet first. I don’t dare get in the car with her. I can’t handle her.” The sight of her tears made Liam’s face harden. He turned to me, his eyes like ice. “Anna, where the hell are your manners?” “What did you say to her? I wouldn’t even dream of speaking to her like that. What gives you the right to make her cry?” “Get out. I’m taking her to the hospital first.” I had reached my limit. I jammed the key into the ignition. “Liam, get a grip. I am your wife. And this is my car.” “My dog is dying! I’m going to the vet!” Liam ran a hand through his hair in frustration, then yanked me out of the driver’s seat. “You’re being completely irrational! A dog bite can be serious, people can die!” “It’s just a dog! Take it to any vet you can find. If it dies, I’ll buy you a new one. Now stop making a scene!” With that, he jumped in the car and sped off. As they drove away, Clara stuck her head out the window, a cold smile on her face, and gave me a victorious thumbs-up. A chill, deep and absolute, settled in my bones. On his deathbed, my father had made Liam promise to take care of me for the rest of his life. And now, for this woman, he had turned on me, abandoned me. My phone rang. An urgent call from the hospital. I rushed over. We had come back to the country because Liam’s mother was gravely ill. I had dropped a multi-billion dollar deal to be here with him. Now, she was in critical condition, and the doctors couldn’t reach him. “Mrs. Vance,” the doctor said, his face grim, “your mother-in-law’s condition is dire. She could have a fatal brain hemorrhage at any moment. She needs surgery immediately, but she’s refusing treatment.” Liam’s mother, once a timid woman, had become difficult and cantankerous in her old age. I had been caring for her since we arrived, cleaning up after her, enduring her constant complaints. Even if she didn’t appreciate it, I had put in the time. But she was always finding fault, always muttering under her breath. Sometimes she would deliberately soil her bed and then complain. I ran into her room. The mess was overwhelming. “Mom, your condition has worsened. I’m scheduling your surgery now. Please, just cooperate with the nurses and take your medicine.” She suddenly grabbed her soiled diaper and threw it in my face. “Don’t you yell at me! You’re not as good as Clara.” She always said that when she was in a mood. I had always assumed it was the illness talking. But now, I heard the name clearly. And I understood. Both mother and son were infected with the same poison: Clara. But she was his mother. I had to do something. As I was about to contact my medical team, my assistant called. “Ma’am, you need to come to the resort. Right now. There’s a problem.”

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I was transmigrated into a book with a mission: win the heart of Julian Vance, the cold-blooded ascetic. He was cruel, numb, heartless, and untouchable. He killed me exactly nine times. The first time, he skinned me alive and stitched the pieces into his own patchwork robe. The second time, he cut me open to take our unborn child, fashioning the tiny skull into a ceremonial bowl for his altar. The third time, he carved out my flesh to make ritual artifacts, ground my 206 bones into dust, and scattered them on the prairie for the eagles to peck. … 1 Every time I died, the world reset, and my progress bar dropped back to zero. I knelt until my knees were raw, praying for him. I endured seventy miscarriages in a single year. When he called me “dirty,” I ate mud for three years, just because he said it would purify me. But he still killed me. By the ninth attempt, I was riddled with holes, body and soul. Julian Vance had no heart. I begged the System to end the mission, but it was offline for upgrades. In a twist of fate, the reset was delayed. Floating as a spirit, I watched him gently caress the funeral portrait of his arranged fiancée, Emily Thorne. His eyes held a tenderness I had never seen directed at me. “Just wait a little longer, my love. Once I kill that bitch again, we’ll go back to before you took your own life.” “If she hadn’t drugged me, you never would have walked in on us. That was supposed to be my wedding, not your funeral.” He wasn’t affected by the reset. He remembered everything. He wasn’t a stone I couldn’t warm. He had hated me to his core ever since Emily died. The mission was doomed from the start. My spirit followed Julian as he drifted toward a door covered in scriptures. What lay behind it shocked me. The room was filled with silicone molds of Emily’s lower body, arranged in neat rows. Julian Vance, the cold ascetic who had rejected me for nine lifetimes, picked one up and kissed it fervently. He looked more devout in that moment than he ever had while praying. 2 When the kiss ended, he stripped off his clothes and used the mold with a terrifying madness. I watched, suffocating in shock. In all nine lifetimes, except for the first where I drugged him, he had refused to touch a woman. In the fourth life, when I lost control and kissed him, he felt so defiled that he poured boiling oil over himself, scrubbing his skin raw. That was the only time the world reset because he died. Since then, I never dared to touch him. But now? He was rolling his eyes back, groaning, sweating like rain in front of a piece of silicone. I looked at his ecstasy, then at my own hands, pale and wrinkled from wearing rubber gloves to clean his home. The irony was crushing. It wasn’t piety. He just thought I was dirty. Suddenly, the System came back online. “Host death detected. Initiating reset.” In a trance, I was back at the wedding altar. Julian was putting the ring on my finger. The reset point was earlier this time. Emily rushed onto the stage, tears streaming down her face, holding a knife. “Julian, are you really going to marry her?” Julian’s eyes darkened. He reacted instantly, shoving me hard. I crashed into the champagne tower. Glass shards embedded in my flesh. Alcohol seeped into the wounds. Even breathing hurt. 3 Julian didn’t even look at me. He rushed to Emily, tears in his eyes as he wrestled the knife away. “Baby, don’t do this!” He… cried? For nine lifetimes, every reset wiped the slate clean. I was used to him being affectionate one second and cruel the next. I endured the humiliation and torture to heal him, to win him. If the System hadn’t lagged, I wouldn’t have known he remembered everything. He had tears. Just not for me. “The wedding is off,” he announced coldly, holding Emily. I staggered to my feet. “What?” His face twisted in disgust. “Chloe, did you think drugging me and crawling into my bed like a whore would force me to marry you?” The guests gasped. “Oh my god, she looks so innocent, but she’s just loose!” Emily sobbed in his arms. “Julian, when I heard you two… I couldn’t take it…” He gently wiped her tears, then turned a look of pure loathing on me. “Your cheap tricks make me sick.” He grabbed my wrist and dragged me over the broken glass. “You think I don’t know? Every time you…” He stopped abruptly. My pupils contracted. I challenged him. “Every time what?” Say it. Tell them everything you remember. But he just let go, letting me tumble down the stairs. My forehead hit the floor, blood instantly masking my face. He stood above me like a high priest looking down on a sinner. “Stop trying to seduce me. I will always despise a slut like you.” 4 It hurt. Memories of nine deaths flashed before my eyes. The searing pain of being skinned alive in the first life. The gut-wrenching agony of being cut open in the second. The salty sting of having my bones crushed in the third. … The System glitched. All the pain from nine lifetimes hit me at once. He kissed Emily tenderly, not sparing me a glance. Guests surrounded me, spitting. “Slut! You deserve it!” Suddenly, hotel security rushed out. At his command, they tore at my clothes. I heard his low instruction: “When you’re done, smash a champagne bottle inside her. Make sure she can never carry a bastard child.” Lying in the wreckage, I laughed. “Julian Vance, you’re a great actor.” He turned back, eyes cold. “What did you say?” I wiped the blood from my mouth. “I said, I hope you live happily ever after.” In my heart, I called out to the System. “I forfeit the mission.” The cold mechanical voice responded: “Host has confirmed mission abandonment. Extraction in fifteen days.” That stormy night, after the guards were finished with me, they threw me out the back door.

Ten years ago, I followed Kaelan to the lawless state of Veridia to become a soldier of fortune. Together, we faced desert sun and gunfire, learning to fight and survive. For a decade, I trusted him with my life—he’d never betray me, but he’d also never share my bed. Not even once. Even under the influence of a strong aphrodisiac, he chose to cut himself rather than touch me. I believed he simply felt no desire. I had accepted that. But on the eve of my last mission, he came to me, drunk, and pulled me into a breathless, heated night. My uniform, the sheets—everything ended up tangled and torn. Lost in the haze, he whispered, “Luna, come back alive. At the victory feast, I’ll marry you.” I fought harder than ever in that battle. When I returned, wounded and dirty, just in time for the celebration, he wasn’t there. Instead, I overheard a drunken teammate: “No more wild nights for the Commander now that Luna’s back. Him and that apprentice wrecked eighteen beds in half a month. I wonder if Luna will cry when she hears.” I gave him one last chance to show up. He never came. And I knew—I was done. 1 Grit and icy wind scraped against my face. With every breath, the wound in my side screamed in protest, a tearing, white-hot agony. From the mess tent, a roar of laughter erupted again, punctuated by the clinking of bottles. “Who does Commander Kaelan really love? Is that even a question? It’s Ava, obviously!” My feet froze to the spot. I’d wanted to dismiss it as drunken nonsense. After ten years of shared battlefields, my faith in Kaelan had been absolute. But the name Ava sent a chill through my entire body, a cold that had nothing to do with the wind. He had broken so many of his own rules for her. “He nearly got himself killed saving that clumsy girl! That was the first time I ever saw the Commander lose his cool!” “He kept it under wraps while Luna was around. But the second she left? Man, the hot springs, his bed… they never stopped!” “They only took a break yesterday. Heard it was because Ava’s back was too sore, couldn’t even get out of bed. Kaelan spent the whole day rubbing it for her.” “And when the urgent dispatch came in saying Luna’s unit needed backup, you know what he said?” The voice mimicked Kaelan’s usual cold, detached tone perfectly. “What’s the rush? Luna can handle herself.” The words that followed were a meaningless buzz in my ears. A violent spasm shot through the wound in my side, and I stumbled, catching myself against the rough concrete wall of a bunker. The gut-wrenching pain confirmed it. This was no nightmare. The laughter continued, the men now guessing “how the eighteenth bed finally collapsed.” Slowly, I straightened up, my hand finding the spare magazine he’d given me. “In a pinch,” he’d said, “trust this less than you trust me.” I placed the magazine gently on an empty oil drum. The sharp clang echoed, and the tent fell instantly silent. One by one, faces flushed with booze turned bone-white. “L-Luna? Commander?” a soldier nicknamed Monkey stammered. “They’re just talking shit! Kaelan would never…” “Go get Kaelan,” I cut him off, my voice dangerously calm. Monkey scrambled out of the tent as if fleeing a fire. I added, just loud enough for him to hear, “Tell him I’m wounded.” Blood was seeping from my injury, a warm, sticky dampness spreading against my skin. It hurt, but it was nothing compared to the shards of ice grinding away inside my chest. I waited in the dead silence for two hours. My answer came not from Kaelan, but from the light, innocent giggle of Ava over his phone. “Luna? Oh, hi. My mentor… he’s exhausted. He’s already asleep.” “If you’re hurt, you should see a medic, or patch yourself up! Why call him? He has his own life, you know. He can’t just revolve around you all the time.” I gripped the edge of a table to stand, my vision swimming with black spots from the pain. Then, I raised my pistol to the tent’s ceiling and pulled the trigger. Three shots. My final word on our ten years. And my final chance for him. For us. Even with the evidence laid bare, the whispers echoing in my ears, the cold cruelty of that phone call… a tiny, pathetic flicker of hope still sputtered in the deepest part of my heart. I needed an answer. From his own lips. I knew he would understand the signal. Just like the countless times over the past decade we’d used specific shots, whistles, even glances to pass messages only we could decipher. He was Kaelan. The man who could identify an engine type from two miles away in his sleep. This time, I didn’t have to wait long. He appeared moments later, cloaked in a chilling aura. He was in his casual uniform, but the top button of his collar was misplaced. His sharp eyes scanned the tent, sweeping over the terrified men, confirming there was no immediate threat before finally landing on me. His brow furrowed in a deep scowl. “Luna!” His voice was laced with its usual hardness and an undeniable reprimand. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? You’re a ranking officer. You don’t discharge your weapon inside the compound! Even for a victory celebration, there are no such rules!” “All of you, out! Get back to your bunks! Anyone breathes a word of what happened here tonight, you’ll answer to me under military code!” He barked the order, and the men, who looked like they’d rather be anywhere else on Earth, scrambled out of the tent. In an instant, it was just the two of us. I felt a bitter smile twist my lips. “Kaelan,” I said, my voice hollow. “Don’t you have anything to say to me?” His scowl deepened, but his expression remained a mask of calm, as if nothing had happened. He took a step forward, as if to check my injuries, but then stopped. “You’re wounded,” he stated, his tone cold and instructional. “You should have gone to the medical tent immediately. Firing your weapon in here… what kind of example is that?” “Stop being childish. Get your wound treated. We’ll talk tomorrow.” 2 A laugh, brittle and broken, escaped my lips. The pain was making my vision blur. I pulled at the corner of my mouth, the taste of blood filling it. “Kaelan. You slept with Ava. Didn’t you?” He was still frowning. He gave a single, sharp nod. He didn’t say a word. No denial. No explanation. Not even a flicker of guilt. Cough! A hot, metallic rush surged up my throat, and a spray of blood splattered on the dusty floor. I swayed, my knuckles turning white as I gripped the table for support. Through the haze of pain, I saw a flash of alarm in his eyes. “Luna!” He rushed forward, and for the first time, I saw a hint of panic, of genuine worry, on his famously stoic face. “How bad is it?” But just as he reached for me, a soft sob came from behind him. “Mentor…” Kaelan’s head snapped around. When he saw Ava standing there in the sand, barefoot in nothing but a thin nightgown, tears streaming down her face, the look of raw, protective tenderness that filled his eyes ripped my heart to shreds all over again. “Ava? Why did you run out here barefoot? Don’t be silly. What are you crying for?” He immediately spun away from me, all thought of my injury erased from his mind. His voice, though sharp with concern, was laced with a gentleness I had never heard. It made my chest ache with a suffocating sourness. “I… I woke up and you were gone… I heard gunshots, and I was so scared…” Ava choked out, her crying escalating into a theatrical, heart-wrenching display. She threw herself into his arms, clinging to him. “Mentor, please stay with me… I can’t sleep alone, I don’t feel safe…” For the first time, I truly understood the saying about the squeaky wheel getting the grease. Kaelan, the man I’d always seen as immune to feminine wiles, instantly scooped her up into his arms. He, who loathed physical contact, simply accepted her dependent embrace, his arms closing around her protectively. “Mentor, can we go back? It’s cold out here…” Ava murmured. Then, she peeked over his shoulder, giving me a look of pure, triumphant ownership before pressing a kiss to his cheek, her voice thick with a coy nasality. “Okay,” Kaelan replied without a second of hesitation. “We’ll go back.” He held her and strode toward the tent flap, his figure about to be swallowed by the night. “Kaelan.” I used the last of my strength to rasp out his name. He paused for a fraction of a second. But he never looked back. As he walked away, his silhouette shrinking into the distance, my world went dark with him. Three days later, I walked out of the command office, my signed discharge papers in hand. The first thing I saw was Kaelan, in the distance, patiently teaching Ava how to handle a firearm, his hands covering hers. He’d been very busy these past three days. Busy coaxing Ava out of her room, telling her not to be ashamed to face the others. Busy escorting her to the infirmary to get time off and a prescription. Busy appearing in her social media feed, his calloused, warrior’s hands gently massaging her “sore” ones. Busy personally applying ointment to the places where their passion had left her torn. Most ironically, for the first time in the fifteen years I’d known him, I saw him in a kitchen, brewing some special restorative broth. But he hadn’t found a single minute to ask about my mission. Or my injuries. It was as if I were a complete stranger. Fifteen years I’d known him. I’d seen him face down a hail of bullets without flinching. Now, for someone else, he wore a tenderness I’d never seen. The wound in my side still throbbed, but I forced myself to walk away, stride firm. Even so, tears blurred my vision. Perhaps his heart had belonged to someone else for a long time. I had just been too blind to see it. He hated complications, couldn’t stand it when women cried. But Ava’s tears always seemed to make his brow furrow with frustration before he gave in with a sigh of helpless surrender. Everyone in our unit knew about Kaelan and me. But this girl, the one he’d “saved out of kindness,” had her eyes glued to him from the very beginning. Offering him water, a towel, shyly confessing her admiration. At first, Kaelan was just as cold and dismissive to her as he was to any other nuisance. When did it change? Was it that rainy day, when Ava stood at his door, clutching a deliberately soaked blanket with red-rimmed eyes, and he broke his own rule by letting her in? Or was it during that field exercise, when she twisted her ankle? There was a medic with the team, but Kaelan carried her himself for three miles over rugged terrain, his entire back soaked with sweat. He had never carried me. Even when I was shot and collapsing, he would only prop me up, his voice grim. “Luna, on your feet. Keep moving.” Looking back, the signs were everywhere. A hundred small betrayals I had refused to see. I turned my back, trying to shove the image away along with ten years of foolishness. “Mentor! Catch me!” Ava’s playful shriek came from behind me. I instinctively moved to step aside, but she crashed into me from behind, hitting my wounded side with pinpoint accuracy. An explosion of pain detonated in my torso. My vision went black, and I crumpled to the ground. Gravel bit into my skin, and the coppery tang of blood filled my mouth, trickling from the corner of my lips. “Ava!” Kaelan was there in a flash, pulling her into his arms, his voice frantic as he checked her over. “Where did you get hit? Are you hurt?” Ava burrowed into his chest, looking at me with wide, innocent eyes. “Oh, Luna, I’m so sorry… Did I scare you? I barely touched you, how did you fall?” 3 Only then did Kaelan look at me. His eyes fell on the blood at my lips and my ghost-white face. He scowled, his voice thick with irritation. “Luna, get up. Don’t lie there looking like a damsel in distress. It’s not you, and it’s pathetic to watch.” Every word was a razor blade dragging across my heart. I didn’t have the strength to argue. I pushed myself up, reaching for the papers scattered on the ground. He got to them first. His eyes scanned the words “Discharge Application.” His face changed instantly. He crushed the paper in his fist, his knuckles turning white. “What is this? You’re leaving?” For a moment, his voice was tight with an unfamiliar tension, a flicker of panic that sounded utterly ironic to my ears. I took advantage of his shock, snatching the papers back. “None of your business,” I sneered. “You…” He started to press, but was cut off by Ava’s innocent-sounding question. “Sister Luna… did you pretend to fall just so my mentor would see these papers?” She tilted her head, her expression one of pure, harmless confusion. “But your acting is really terrible, Sister Luna! Everyone in this entire sector knows how you are. You love a good fight. You’re strong. You’ve climbed over mountains of bodies to get to where you are. Why would you ever be willing to leave? Isn’t this place… everything you care about?” Her words were like a bucket of ice water, instantly extinguishing that small spark of panic in Kaelan’s eyes. His gaze turned cold, filled with nothing but disappointment and contempt. “Luna,” he said, his voice dripping with scorn, “since when did you stoop to these kinds of tricks?” A suffocating mix of absurdity and despair choked me. I pushed through the searing pain, staggered to my feet, and turned away, clutching the papers. “Stop! Explain yourself!” he roared, his footsteps closing in behind me. “Mentor…” Ava tugged on his sleeve at just the right moment, her voice trembling. “I’m hungry, and my feet are cold. Can we go back now?” He froze. “Okay,” his voice softened immediately. “We’ll go back.” Without another glance at me, he turned, wrapping his arm securely around her. Their footsteps faded into the distance. The wind whipped sand against my face. It stung, but I didn’t look back. I just kept walking in the opposite direction. Overnight, the news of my resignation spread like wildfire through the base. That evening, Kaelan kicked my door open, his face a thundercloud. “Luna, are you serious about this? This isn’t like you!” I laughed coldly. “Running away with you ten years ago and throwing my family away wasn’t like me either.” “But that was me being crazy for love. This is me paying the price for being blind.” “Enough!” he snapped. “I see what this is. You’re jealous! You can’t mix personal feelings with your career. What happened with Ava that day… she was drugged. There were circumstances. I couldn’t just leave a young girl like that to fend for herself!” “How many times do I have to tell you? I only see her as a little sister!” “A sister?” My lips twisted into a smirk, the wound in my side pulsing with a dull ache. “Is that what you call sleeping together now?” “And what about me, Kaelan? What am I to you?” “Remember when I was drugged? You threw me into a frozen pond. I’ve had health problems from the cold ever since. But when it’s Ava, it’s ‘I couldn’t just leave her alone,’ so you played hero in her bed?” “Shut up!” A vein throbbed in his temple. He waved a hand dismissively, his patience gone. “Stop digging up the past! Just tell me. What will it take for you to stop this nonsense?” I stood up, my spine ramrod straight, and my voice dripped with sarcasm. “In this compound, it’s either her, or me.” Without a single moment of hesitation, he exploded. “Luna, you’re being completely irrational.” Kaelan stared at me, his expression shifting from shock to profound disappointment and ridicule. Then he slammed the door and was gone. I slowly sat back down. I picked up the bullet-casing pendant he’d once made for me, looked at it for two seconds, and then let it drop from my fingers. It clattered into the trash can. Some parts of the past are better off thrown away. 4 The day I left, the sky was a blanket of gray. I took one last look at the place I had called home for a decade, then turned toward the jeep waiting for me outside the gates. “Leaving so soon, Luna?” Ava’s voice, sickly sweet as always, called out from behind me. I didn’t break my stride. She hurried to block my path, her cheeks flushed an unnatural red, her breathing shallow. “Are you trying to play hard to get? Threatening to leave so the Commander will finally realize how much he needs you?” she taunted, a cruel, cold light in her eyes. “Well, let the best woman win. We’ll see if he cares more about you, or if he’d rather ‘love’ me.” “Oh, and by the way,” she added with a smirk. “The Commander told me he likes his women sweet and gentle. You stopped being his type a long time ago.” “This time, you’re going to lose.” I frowned, noticing something was off about her. Her state was unnatural. But before I could react, she pulled a small vial from her pocket and downed the contents in one go. “What are you…” A piercing scream cut me off. “Commander! Help me! Luna drugged me! She’s trying to ruin me!” She violently tore the collar of her own shirt, exposing a wide swath of skin, and shoved the empty vial into my hand. The sound of pounding boots grew closer. Kaelan charged in with his men, only to find Ava, clothes in disarray, sobbing hysterically as she threw herself into his arms. “Commander! Save me! Luna hates me, she… she was going to throw me to those filthy scavengers outside the walls! She said I seduced you and she was going to make me wish I was dead!” Ava trembled, clinging to Kaelan for dear life. “I was wrong, I’ll never go near you again, I’ll leave, I’ll go far away… just make her let me go!” Kaelan’s head snapped up. His eyes, blazing crimson, locked onto me. The look in them could have flayed me alive. “Luna! How dare you…” “I didn’t. You can check the surveil—” “She’s lying!” Ava shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at the vial I was now holding by reflex. “That’s a filthy aphrodisiac! She wanted me to be passed around by a dozen men! Commander, she wants to destroy me, she’s trying to drive me to my death!” “I didn’t drug her! She drank it herself! It was a setup! Someone, check the security footage!” I yelled, a wave of fury and panic rising in my chest. The wound in my side tore open again, and the taste of blood flooded my mouth. Kaelan laughed, a sound devoid of any humor. He advanced on me, step by deliberate step. “Enough, Luna. The evidence is in your hand, and look at the state Ava is in! Are you still going to deny it? I never knew you were this venomous!” “I told you, it wasn’t me!” I screamed, despair washing over me like a tidal wave. “Enough!” he roared, cutting me off. The last trace of our shared history vanished from his eyes, replaced by pure, unadulterated loathing and rage. “Restrain her!” Four large soldiers instantly seized me, binding my arms and legs. I struggled wildly. “Kaelan! Watch the footage! It was her—” “It seems you won’t give up until you’re completely broken,” he said, his eyes dark and menacing. He personally took another, unopened vial from Ava’s pocket, wrenched my jaw open, and forced the liquid down my throat. The fluid burned like acid. “You love playing games, don’t you? You wanted to leave so badly?” he sneered, letting go of me and wiping his fingers with a handkerchief as if he’d touched something foul. “Fine. I’ll help you.” The drug hit my system like a firestorm. A wave of heat and debilitating weakness swept through my limbs. “Throw her,” he commanded, his voice flat and cold, “into the eastern combat zone. She’s such a great fighter, isn’t she? She wanted to walk away? Let’s see how far she can ‘walk’ now.” “Luna, this is just you getting a taste of your own medicine. You brought this on yourself.” I was hauled up and thrown into the back of a vehicle like a sack of garbage. As my vision blurred, the last thing I saw was Ava, nestled in his arms, being carried away. The sight consumed the last of my hope. It took Kaelan four hours to help Ava work the drug out of her system. When it was over, the first thing he did was ask his most trusted subordinate. “Luna? Is she back yet?” The man hesitated. “Commander… she… she was drugged and her hands and feet were bound. According to our scouts… they think… she was taken by an enemy patrol…”

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