Category: English

It was the first time my parents, my brother, and my sister-in-law had met my fiancé, Graham Scott. Graham was poised, courteous, and handled the grilling with practiced ease. My parents, David and Carol, and my brother, Aaron, seemed placated. Satisfied, even. But Sienna, my sister-in-law, frowned. She looked at me with an expression of deep disapproval and spoke in a tone heavy with misplaced wisdom. “Willow, I’ve been around the block, and I can tell you: you’re clearly still hung up on Patrick, the man we met last week! You need to stop this.” “This is your whole life, darling. You cannot be rushing into this marriage, using Graham as a fallback just because you’re pregnant!” “Yes, the doctor warned you that one more termination might leave you infertile, but you cannot settle! I’d rather support you for the rest of your life than watch you compromise like this.” I rushed to deny it, appealing to my parents and Aaron to back me up. But they only started to waffle, their clarification vague, effectively muddying the waters instead of clearing them. Graham looked utterly defeated. He left in a fit of anger, driving away only to die in a car accident moments later. I went insane, demanding answers, cornering Sienna and the rest of my family. But Sienna merely shrugged, her voice light and dismissive. “I was only trying to help you, Willow. I was testing if he had one hundred percent faith in you.” My family nodded along in support. “Thank God we tested him, then! Imagine if you’d actually married that short-lived loser—you’d be crying for years!” Rage blinding me, I grabbed them, insisting they come with me to Graham’s grave to repent. I never made it. I was shoved down the stairs by one of them and died. I woke up, back at the beginning. I looked at Sienna, who was already starting to give me her knowing, conspiratorial eye-roll. I smiled. If you’re so intent on “testing” my fiancé, Sienna, then I’ll be “testing” my brother for you. 1 Dinner had just wrapped up. We were settled on the plush sectional in my new living room, the conversation inevitably turning to the wedding plans with Graham. Sienna Marshall couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Willow, this is a lifelong commitment. You can’t shortchange yourself like this.” “Where is Patrick, the man we had lunch with just last week? The handsome one with the investment banking job and the condo in the West Village? He was so much better, and you clearly liked him more! Why are you settling for this Graham Scott?” I paused, but I didn’t feel the surge of anger I had the first time. I only felt a strange detachment. “Sienna, what on earth are you talking about? I never—” She cut me off before I could finish, not even looking at me, barreling forward with her speech. “Even if you don’t want me to say it, I have to, darling. If I don’t say it now, it will be too late forever!” “I know you’re rushing to get married because of the baby! But I stand by what I said: don’t let a big house and a fancy car from this man force you to have a child that will only be used as an illegitimate pawn in a family fortune fight!” “I still hope you’ll reconsider, Willow. Terminate the pregnancy. Move on with your life. You’ve had so many, what’s one more?” “If what the doctor said is true, and this one really does make you infertile, so be it. Mom, Dad, Aaron, and I—we will all take care of you for the rest of your life!” Sienna went on and on, weaving a story about me being promiscuous and a gold-digger who was trying to trap an unsuspecting man for his money. I remained perfectly calm. I had lived through this exact scene before. Last time, everything had gone smoothly until we started talking about the wedding, and then Sienna suddenly went manic. Under the “neutral” oversight of my parents and brother, I couldn’t get a single word in edgewise. Graham believed me, but he couldn’t stand against the united “testimony” of my whole family. He left, he crashed, and I didn’t survive long after him. 2 I had been reborn. I wasn’t about to fall into the same trap twice. I had been ready for Sienna’s attack, and as she grew more animated, my expression grew colder. But I didn’t try to refute her. Instead, I stood up abruptly, raised my hand, and slapped Sienna across the face with every ounce of force I had. “I don’t care if you’re drunk or possessed, I order you to snap out of it!” The silence that followed the smack was absolute. Sienna was stunned. My parents and Aaron were also shocked into stillness. They couldn’t pretend they hadn’t seen it, nor could they keep playing dumb. They all jumped up, pulling me aside, a cacophony of outrage rising around me. Aaron Reed shielded Sienna behind him, his finger nearly poking me in the eye. “What in God’s name is wrong with you, Willow? How could you put your hands on her?” “She’s your sister-in-law! Don’t you remember how much she’s done for you over the years?” “No matter what she said, it was for your own good! You don’t have to appreciate it, but you certainly don’t get to hit her!” I let out a cold, cynical laugh. So, when Sienna was slandering me, they were deaf, dumb, and blind. The second I defended myself, they “came alive.” But Aaron’s attempt at moral blackmail failed. I spoke softly, my voice laced with steel. “She only deserves respect when she acts respectable.” “Did she do good things for me? Yes. But have I been good to her? You look at what she’s wearing, what jewelry she’s flaunting. Who paid for it? I did.” “She doesn’t have to thank me, but she certainly can’t spew lies in front of my fiancé. That’s for my good? For whose good?” “If we want to talk about good, I slapped her for your good. If you don’t rein in that filthy mouth of hers, she’ll bring down ruin on the entire Reed family. After all, trouble comes out of an open mouth.” All four of them were speechless. I hadn’t even bothered to deny her claims, yet I was armed with a superior logic they weren’t prepared for. This was completely off-script. In their plan, I was supposed to be sobbing, begging Graham to believe me, then pleading with them to vouch for my purity and virtue. But you can’t clarify something that never happened using only words. So this time, I wasn’t going to waste time on a battle of wits. Sienna, however, was nearly spitting mad from the blow. She hid behind Aaron and yelled across the room at Graham. “I didn’t lie!” “Willow is right; maybe I wasn’t doing this for her good. I just can’t stand how she treats relationships! I can see you’re a good man, Graham, and I don’t want you to be blindsided. I don’t want you to be a cuckold!” Graham’s expression was an odd mix of confusion and stoicism. After a long pause, he spoke. “I trust Willow’s character. Furthermore, she has been with me for most of last week. She had no time to meet any ‘stranger’ for an engagement talk.” He was right. My rebirth didn’t happen at this moment; it happened ten days ago. I had already spoken to Graham. Last time, he was 80% convinced; this time, he was 100% on my side. I stepped forward, took Graham’s hand, and turned back to Sienna, a triumphant smirk on my face. “Sienna, you are either lying or having a sudden mental breakdown. Since you’ve always been such a sweet sister-in-law, it must be the latter. I’ll call the clinic right now and have you admitted for a mandatory 72-hour hold for psychological observation.” “I’m sure Mom, Dad, and Aaron won’t have any objection to that, right?” 3 David, Carol, and Aaron didn’t dare object. Not only was my reasoning sound, but more importantly, I was essentially their sole financial backer. I paid their mortgage, bought their life insurance policies, paid for their car, and even the utility bills were tied to my bank account. I wasn’t bluffing. I actually reached for my phone to make the call. Sienna looked terrified. Her relationship with Aaron was already strained, and if I hadn’t been constantly supporting her, her life in the Reed family would have been hell. If I sent her to a locked psychiatric ward, she might never get out. She gritted her teeth. “I’m not lying! I have proof! You’ve all been deceived by Willow Reed.” As she spoke, she hesitated, then pulled a folded A4 paper out of her handbag. I recognized it immediately: a sonogram image. The results slip bore my name. Sienna stammered, “I went with Willow for a check-up last week. It shows she’s seven weeks pregnant. Everything I said just now—that she was trying to trap an unsuspecting man—was what she told the doctor. I haven’t lied about a single thing!” In the previous life, Graham had been driven away by their chaotic yelling before Sienna could even produce this evidence. I had no idea it existed. But I wasn’t scared; I simply shook my head. “That result? AI can generate thousands of those in a minute.” Sienna didn’t argue. She snatched my phone, typed in my unlock code with practiced ease, and navigated to the City Medical Center’s patient portal. “This is the official patient portal for Tri-State General. I just logged in with your information. This is the electronic medical record for that check-up. The paper can be fake, but this digital record can’t be!” This time, even I couldn’t find a quick retort. Sienna was right. A paper copy could be forged, but the official hospital electronic file could not. Seeing my silence, my mother, Carol Reed, seemed to sigh in relief. She looked at me with a touch of guilt. “Willow, I know your sister-in-law has a cruel way of putting things, but she truly is looking out for your future. You can’t hide something like this forever.” My father, David, nodded in agreement. “That’s right. If you want to keep the baby, we won’t stop you. But marrying him under false pretenses is no good. You can always have the baby and let Aaron adopt him. Your reputation won’t suffer at all.” Aaron bypassed me completely and patted Graham on the shoulder. “Buddy, I sincerely hoped you’d become my brother-in-law. You’re a great guy, well-mannered, and you treat Willow well. But my sister really isn’t good enough for you. She’s not a good girl.” “We’re the ones who failed you, Graham. We didn’t raise her right. So I have to apologize to you, on behalf of our whole family.” Sienna looked like she’d won the lottery. She was waiting for Graham to explode, to maybe even slap me or drag me out of the room. But Graham didn’t move. He just looked at me with an extremely odd expression, as if to say, Why is this all happening exactly as you predicted? Because I had specifically told him to listen and not speak, he could only close his mouth, his face a mask of confusing composure. I didn’t answer his silent question. Instead, I let out a genuine laugh. “What a coincidence!” “Graham’s uncle gave me a voucher for a full executive physical. Graham and I went together yesterday. Full body workup. And somehow… they missed the seven-week pregnancy.” 4 As I spoke, I pulled out my own detailed medical report for verification. “This one is from a reputable health center. It also has a verified digital file. And Graham was with me when I had the blood work done. So I don’t just have physical proof, I have a verifiable human witness.” Sienna stared at me in disbelief. I didn’t give her a chance to recover. I picked up my phone again. “But Sienna would never try to hurt me. She must have known something to get so upset. This is clearly the fault of whoever used my medical ID for insurance fraud.” “I’m calling the police right now to report the fraud…” Sienna slapped the phone out of my hand. “Don’t try to change the subject!” “Maybe you had an abortion after you saw me! That’s why your results are clean! As for witnesses, we are four witnesses! We can all testify that you brought a different man home last Wednesday to discuss an engagement!” Sienna shot a hard look at the three Reeds. They hesitated for a moment but eventually nodded. “She’s right. It was Wednesday. I remember clearly.” “If you want to deny it, tell us where you were that Wednesday!” I couldn’t answer. Last Wednesday, Carol had dragged me shopping all day, and she clearly wouldn’t be my witness now. I found the situation even more ridiculous than before. It turned out their plan wasn’t riddled with holes; they had thought of every possible angle. But I wasn’t worried. I pointed to the large screen TV in the corner. “Even more of a coincidence.” “I installed a hidden security system ten days ago. Since you claim I brought a man home last Wednesday to discuss marriage, why don’t we roll the footage? Let’s see what man I brought home.” Hearing this, Sienna’s face instantly went pale. She screamed, running toward the TV, clawing and yelling that I couldn’t turn on the monitor. “You can’t watch the monitor! If you watch the monitor, your engagement with Graham is completely ruined!” “If you must watch it, at least send Graham away first! He’ll be heartbroken to see it!” I almost laughed out loud. Graham, however, looked uncomfortable for a different reason. “Sienna, you don’t need to worry about me. I trust Willow. I’m willing to watch the monitor to confirm her innocence.” I chimed in, “Sienna, this is my house, and Graham is my fiancé. I’m not scared. Why are you so scared?” I held back the frantic Sienna and nodded to Graham to proceed. Graham had helped me install the system, so he was perfectly comfortable projecting the feed onto the TV. In seconds, the security camera facing the front door showed a strange man entering the house, moving with the familiarity of a homeowner, and heading straight for the guest bedroom. The Reeds gasped in surprise. Sienna quickly seized the moment. “See? There’s the man! Turn it off! There will definitely be some R-rated scenes!” But Graham didn’t turn it off. He simply hit the pause button. Sienna breathed a sigh of relief. Aaron looked at me with a furious, disappointed stare. “Willow Reed, the evidence is undeniable. What do you have to say for yourself? You hit your sister-in-law just for speaking the truth! You owe her an apology immediately!” Just as he finished speaking, Graham fast-forwarded a few minutes, as I had instructed. A second figure appeared in the surveillance footage. And that person was none other than Sienna Marshall.

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Chapter 1 One week before the SATs, every student in my class bound themselves to a cheating system. Genius possession, grade stealing, score doubling… Everyone was convinced they would get into Harvard or Yale, so they started slacking off and partying recklessly. But they didn’t know that I held the “Fairness Judge System.” All cheating systems would become invalid on the day of the exam. I am their homeroom teacher, Mr. Walker. One week before the SATs, my students suddenly seemed to have an epiphany. The underachievers turned into straight-A students overnight. Only the class monitor, Sarah Reed, slipped from first place in the grade to the very bottom. Unable to bear the blow, she wanted to end her life. When I rushed to the rooftop, the principal was trying to persuade her: “Sarah, you’ve been number one for three consecutive years. You’re definitely Ivy League material. This mock exam was just an accident…” But the gap between the top and the bottom isn’t luck; it’s a solid three years of capability. Calling such a precipitous drop an “accident” was too light. Sarah’s eyes were empty, clutching a transcript with a score of 400 like a death warrant. Her family situation was terrible; they were like leeches. The SATs were her only chance to change her fate. Unless she gave up on herself, I couldn’t think of any reason for her to fall from the top of the pyramid to the bottom of the valley. I slowly moved half a step forward: “Sarah, did your parents hit you again? Or are they forcing you to drop out and work?” “Remember what I said? We have to save ourselves a thousand times over. The exam is right in front of us. Let’s fight to the end and not give up, okay?” Sarah’s shoulders trembled. She looked back at me, her voice shaking: “Mr. Walker, I remember! I didn’t give up! I knew every question when I was doing them, but after I handed it in, all the answers changed…” My heart skipped a beat. It happened so suddenly that I didn’t have time to think. In this mock exam, the average score in our class was 1580, everyone capable of getting into Harvard. I suddenly realized that this unreasonable leap forward wasn’t just cheating; it could only be a system at work! Someone chose to take a shortcut and steal someone else’s grades. And Sarah was the victim! My face was solemn. I repeatedly assured Sarah that there was a way to retrieve her grades before I managed to talk her down. Then I rushed to check the surveillance footage and dragged the most suspicious student, Jason Miller, to the office: “You were sleeping the whole time during the exam. How did you get a 1590?” “Tell me, did you cheat?” Jason looked at the footage of himself sleeping soundly. At first, he refused to admit it. But after a few more questions, he exploded: “Yes! The whole class cheated!” “Except for Sarah, we all downloaded the ‘SAT Cheat System’ app. As long as we exchange things from the real world, we can easily get into the Ivy League.” I asked Jason: “What did you exchange for the skill?” Jason said nonchalantly: “My Golden Retriever, which I raised for eight years, was crushed into meat paste by a car right in front of me!” “How could you?” “It’s just a dog. It’s dead anyway. But with the Paper Swapping System, I can get into Harvard for sure!” “Mr. Walker, I’m one of the good ones!” “Emily traded her beauty for double scores. Chris used his sister’s unhappy marriage for the ‘God of Exams’ possession. Someone even sacrificed ten years of their parents’ lives…” He spoke righteously, as if the price paid was not worth mentioning. True, with his failing grades, getting into a community college would be luck. Suddenly able to change his life, he probably thought he was the chosen one, overjoyed. Little did he know, fate’s gifts had long been secretly priced. I looked at him with a subtle expression: “What about Sarah? Why exclude her?” Jason laughed gloatingly: “There are 40 people in the class, but only 39 systems. Sarah’s grades are so good she doesn’t need one. Besides, someone bound the Score Stealing System and specifically exchanged for Sarah’s score.” How ironic! They say the SAT is a fair scale, weighing the true weight of every ounce of effort. But the appearance of the system made effort a sin and scores a prey. For Sarah, I will not allow anyone to disrupt the exam with a system! Chapter 2 After comforting Sarah, I held a class meeting. Just as I wrote the words “No Shortcuts to Success” on the blackboard, a bottle of Gatorade flew over and hit me on the head. “So annoying!” Chris kicked his desk over: “Always preaching this crap. I used my sister’s unhappy marriage for the God of Exams system. She’s marrying an abusive guy next month.” “If you won’t let me take a shortcut, you go marry him for my sister.” Someone started it, and they stopped pretending. The classroom exploded instantly. Someone said: “I mortgaged my dad’s factory for a perfect Math score! That broken factory is going to close down sooner or later anyway. I don’t know why he’s holding on.” Another said: “My mom’s breast cancer gives her at most a month to live. What a pity, a month of life can only be exchanged for the essay topic.” My scalp tingled as I listened. I quickly called a halt: “Don’t be stupid! The system isn’t a shortcut; it’s a trap! It’s not too late to stop now!” In the silence, Jason suddenly stood up. “Mr. Walker, you’re saying all this because of Sarah, right?” “Because her score was stolen and she has no chance at college, you can’t stand to see us underachievers turn our lives around.” He grabbed a dirty broom and threw it at me: “Get out! Don’t delay us from getting into Harvard!” “Get out now! We don’t need you to manage us!” “We have the system now. We can get into Harvard easily. Do we need you to teach us?” Dodging in embarrassment, my heart turned completely cold. “Fine!” Good words can’t persuade a damned ghost: “Since you are all so amazing, classes are suspended for the seven days before the exam. Self-study.” The whole class cheered. Only Sarah followed me to prepare for the exam, never relaxing for a moment. In two consecutive mock exams, she was still last. I wiped away her tears: “You have to trust me. The exam will definitely be fair!” Under my indulgence, the whole class slacked off crazily. Until the day before the SATs, Jason suddenly came to me with a mournful face: “Mr. Walker! The system… the system is ignoring us!” “How could that be?” I put on a surprised expression: “You are all the chosen ones.” “It’s true!” His voice trembled: “My X-ray Vision System hasn’t responded for two hours. I asked the others, and their systems failed too!” I slammed the table: “The system must be charging up! Tomorrow is the exam; it’s going to give you guys a big boost!” Jason’s eyes lit up: “Really?” “Of course!” I swore solemnly, spouting nonsense: “If it doesn’t give you Harvard or Yale, it would be unfair to the high price you paid.” Jason’s face finally looked better: “I knew it. My dog couldn’t have died in vain.” He rushed back to the classroom to tell the others: “Everyone must believe in the system. Our class will sweep the state top scores this year!” People are stupid, but voices are loud. Cheers resounded in the corridor, and people ran and shouted in the hallway. The entire senior year was fighting for their future. With their ruckus, students in other classes were inevitably affected. I quickly comforted them: “The system descended on our class, doesn’t that prove you are all chosen talents? I’m counting on you for this year’s Teacher of the Year award.” “How about this? I’ll give you a holiday to go home and let the system rest well.” Everyone left, only Sarah looked dejected. She held the zero-score test paper that had been swapped, asking me uneasily: “Mr. Walker, what if my score is swapped again during the real exam?” I looked into her eyes and promised repeatedly: “It won’t happen. I promise you.” Chapter 3 On the day of the SATs, I was responsible for monitoring the surveillance of the exam hall. When I zoomed in, the students in my class with systems behaved differently. Either they lay down to sleep directly, handing in a blank paper. Or they discovered something was wrong with the system and scratched their heads in anxiety. Only Sarah was writing furiously. I zoomed in and checked; her accuracy rate was almost 100%. After the first section, Jason found me at the entrance of the exam hall. He looked panicked and pale: “Mr. Walker, my Paper Swapping System is dead. No matter how I summon it, it doesn’t appear!” “I already promised my dad I would definitely get into Harvard. He’s already bragged about it! If I don’t get in, he’ll beat me to death!” Other classmates also gathered around, talking all at once: “My Correct Answer Prompt System didn’t ring at all. I guessed all the multiple-choice questions!” “I was smart to grab the Life Exchange System…” I smiled and comforted them: “Don’t worry, everyone. The system will definitely explode when the scores are tallied!” After sending everyone away, I waved to Sarah in the corner. “You performed well today. Keep it up. You will definitely get into your dream school.” Finally, no one came to complain to me about the last few sections. Under my perfunctory compliments, they all believed they could get into the Ivy League. They even fought over who would be the state top scorer. The whole class was floating on air. Only Sarah came to me to estimate her score after the exam. She cried with red eyes: “If the system swaps my score again, my parents won’t let me repeat a year. They say the family is poor and want me to marry to get a dowry for my brother’s tuition.” Jason laughed exaggeratedly: “What score are you estimating? You should be estimating your bride price!” Chris was even more excessive, snatching Sarah’s score estimation sheet and tearing it to shreds. “Don’t dream about Harvard, you bumpkin. Hurry up and get married, have a few losing propositions like you, and then continue to sell daughters for dowries.” Their malice made Sarah lower her head. My heart ached. I quickly hugged her tight. “Don’t listen to their nonsense. You have to trust me. The exam must be fair.” “Apply for Harvard with peace of mind. I will help you solve everything!” On the day the SAT scores were released, the students bound to the system brought their parents and reporters. They bragged to the camera: “I look down on state universities. Ivy League is barely acceptable!” “This year’s state top scorer is among us. The admissions offices of Harvard and Yale will come to snatch us soon!” Bragging wasn’t enough; they had to be sarcastic to me: “A rookie meeting a phoenix, what dumb luck! Bringing out a group of top students like us, you’ll win the Master Teacher title lying down!” People present just thought they were crazy. Students from the next class burst into laughter: “Heard your class lost their minds long ago. Reading too many novels damaged your brains? Uninstall the trash games on your phones before you speak.” Then Chris took the lead, and Jason followed. Betting that if they didn’t get into Harvard, they would eat shit while doing a handstand. Their confidence crushed Sarah. She shrank behind me with a worried face, sobbing uncontrollably: “Mr. Walker, I’m scared. If I get a zero again, I’ll really die.” “Nothing to be afraid of. With me here, the exam is absolutely fair and just!” “And I will definitely catch the person who stole your score!” As the time for score release approached, the students in our class dreamed bigger and bigger. “If Harvard and Yale come to snatch us later, who will you choose?” “Needless to say, whoever licks my boots better, I’ll choose them.” “I heard Yale has good pizza. If I say I want to eat it, will the president make it for me immediately?” “Your appetite is too small. What’s pizza? I want Harvard to give me a house, right next to Boston Common.” “Haha, then I want one in Manhattan…” Everyone was dumbfounded listening to them, looking at me with unbearable eyes. Clearly, they were the crazy ones, but I was the one losing face. Soon, the big screen flashed, releasing the scores. The students in our class were collectively dumbfounded and shut up abruptly. “How could this be?! I have the Perfect Score System! Where did the zero come from!” “I have the X-ray Vision System. I clearly copied the correct answers. How could it be… zero!” “I got zero too! I clearly swapped Sarah’s score…” Jason suddenly turned his head, staring at Sarah: “Did you do it on purpose?! Purposefully got a zero to ruin my life!” Amidst the uproar, Sarah’s score shone on the screen. 1600 points. A perfect score. The state top scorer for sure. Jason’s eyes widened in disbelief. After a shrill scream, he squatted on the ground and tore his hair frantically. Amid the wailing of the whole class, I sneered silently. Did you really think you could get into Harvard by binding a cheating system? Sorry, I have the “Fairness Judge System,” specializing in punishing all kinds of cheating. What awaits you next is not an admission letter from Harvard, but the judgment of justice. Chapter 4 My class producing a 1600-point state top scorer and 39 zeros exploded on social media. Parents blocked me in the office demanding an explanation. “Taught by the same teacher, why did Sarah get 1600 and my son get zero? If you don’t explain clearly, I’ll report you to the Board of Education!” “There must be something fishy. My daughter usually scores over 1300 in mocks. How could she suddenly get a zero?” “If you don’t give a reasonable explanation, I’ll call the police to arrest you!” And those students who clamored for me not to manage them all dodged their eyes, daring not look at me. Now they didn’t mention the system. I sneered and was about to speak when Jason rushed out. “Dad, Mr. Walker never cared about us. He only tutored Sarah. My zero is all his fault!” “Yes, Mr. Walker is biased. I didn’t even dare to ask him questions.” “He didn’t grade homework and called us stupid. It’s all his fault!” They raked backwards. Their exquisite acting made me tremble with anger. Reporters at the door pointed their cameras at me: “Mr. Walker, students reported that you treated them differently for a long time, causing psychological imbalance and leading to them all getting zeros.” “How do you respond to the accusation that you are unfit to be a teacher?” I sneered. Just as I was about to refute, Jason’s dad grabbed my collar. “What’s there to explain? This scum must have taken money from Sarah’s family and spent all his time tutoring her, ignoring my son!” Sarah trembled and testified for me: “It’s not like that. They are lying. It was clearly them saying they had systems…” “Shut up! Is it your turn to speak?!” Jason picked up a water cup and threw it. I quickly broke free and shielded Sarah behind me. The cup hit my back. With a “bang,” the whole room went dead silent. I slowly looked up, my eyes cold: “Have you acted enough of this blame-shifting drama?” When fairness is profaned, someone always has to be the guardian of the scale. I took out my phone and clicked on a video. In the video, they were making bold statements: “It’s just a dog. It’s dead anyway. With the X-ray vision skill, I can definitely get into Harvard!” “I used my sister’s unhappy marriage to exchange for a difficulty reduction system. She has to marry an abuser next month, hahaha!” “I mortgaged my dad’s factory for a Math score of 800!” “Pity my mom’s breast cancer gives her at most a month to live…” The video continued to play. Every word of them insulting me and telling me to get out relying on the system was clearly audible. The parents’ faces turned from angry to iron blue. A parent asked: “This… what is this?!” I said coldly: “It’s evidence that your children tried to trade life span for scores, relatives for answers, and use systems to cheat!” The parents turned their heads sharply, staring at their children. Several parents started hitting their kids on the spot. The office was instantly in chaos. Jason was slapped to the ground by his dad. Chris was pinned to the ground and beaten wildly. All the zero-score students were being beaten by their parents. Reporters took photos frantically. Public opinion reversed instantly. Jason suddenly pointed at me hysterically: “It’s you! You made us believe in the system!” Everyone paused, looking at me in unison. “You said the holiday before the exam, right? Mr. Walker, you still can’t escape responsibility!” “If it weren’t for you, how could these children believe in such absurd things like systems?” “Their minds are immature. As the homeroom teacher, you must take full responsibility.” I laughed in anger, raising an eyebrow: “Evidence? None, right?” “But I have evidence of your children cheating.”

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When I was twenty, I knitted my first scarf for the boy I secretly loved. At Liam Sterling’s birthday party, he accepted the scarf amidst everyone’s mocking gazes. Three days after my brother died, I went to the admin office to withdraw from college. I happened to overhear the students inside joking while sorting files. “Are you really going to throw away that scarf from the hillbilly, Grace?” “That thing? It’s not even worth comparing to the designer coat Bella bought him. It’s worse than a hotel towel. Just toss it.” “If I knew Liam didn’t want his little follower’s gift, I would have taken it as a doormat. It’s a pity to throw it away; after all, she knitted it stitch by stitch.” Bella was his childhood sweetheart. Liam laughed, crumpled the scarf into a ball, and casually tossed it at the boy. The boy dodged nimbly. The scarf fell next to the trash can, looking pathetic. Our eyes met for a second. I silently took my withdrawal papers and left. I knew I had no right to question him. He stood behind me and seemed to say something, but I didn’t hear it. Six years later, when I returned to New York, I heard a rumor. The Sterling family heir had a “white moonlight”—a first love—who had been missing for years. 1 I came to New York to expand my boutique clothing brand. On the first day of opening, an old acquaintance walked in. “Grace?!” I was arranging clothes on the rack. I had changed my name years ago. Hearing that name, I froze. Recovering, I turned and met a pair of shocked eyes. The man in front of me looked somewhat unfamiliar, with handsome features and expensive clothes. But I couldn’t remember where I had seen him. I smiled apologetically. “You are?” He scratched his head subconsciously. That action instantly reminded me who he was. Carter. Liam’s friend. The boy who said six years ago that he would use my scarf as a doormat. Beside him stood a girl, holding his arm, slender and tall, smiling brightly. In the VIP room. While the girl was in the fitting room, Carter looked around my shop. “You… you opened this? This brand is so popular lately. I didn’t expect you to be the owner…” Carter seemed to remember something, a trace of embarrassment on his face. “About back then… I was joking. Please don’t take it to heart. Actually, I’ve wanted to apologize for years, but I couldn’t find you.” “Where have you been all these years? Why did you suddenly drop out? And there was no news at all…” His voice trailed off. I calmly took the fruit platter from the waiter and placed it on the table. “Nowhere special. Just went back to my hometown.” Went back home, changed my name, and restarted my life. He was about to ask more when his girlfriend came out. The clothes fit perfectly. The girl was satisfied and bought several more items. But soon, she offered a suggestion. “Your autumn/winter collection isn’t complete. Other stores market hats, brooches, shoes, and scarves together.” “I just tried on the clothes and noticed you don’t have matching scarves. I think you could improve on that.” I explained gently, “Our brand doesn’t plan to make scarves yet. Sorry. I’ll give you a 30% discount on these items…” Before leaving, Carter spoke cautiously, “Actually, all these years, Liam has been…” Suddenly, a loud crash of metal came from the store. I turned and saw the display rack I had half-assembled collapse. I rubbed my forehead in frustration. Great, have to install it again. Carter was still talking. I nodded hastily, turning to instruct the staff to handle the mess. He was overjoyed and immediately stuffed an invitation into my hand. “It’s settled then. Tomorrow is Liam’s birthday. You must come!” Before I could refuse, Carter walked away quickly. Giving me no chance to back out. My business partner, Zoe, stretched as she walked out from the back. “What was that noise? Woke me up. What’s this… Liam Sterling?” She stared obsessively at the invitation in my hand. Forgetting to put down her stretching arms, she exclaimed Liam’s name. I was puzzled. “You know him?” Zoe nodded furiously, her sleepy eyes instantly brightening. “Of course! Isn’t he the Prince of the Sterling family? I saw him at a fashion show recently.” “He sat in the front row, tall and handsome. Took over the company right after graduation, and profits doubled under him…” “Hey, this birthday invitation? How did you get it?” I said calmly, “Carter gave it to me.” Hearing this, Zoe looked at me with admiration. 2 “Carter?! Oh my god, Grace, how many connections do you have that I don’t know about!” “Carter, and now Liam Sterling… but…” She lowered her voice mysteriously. “I heard Liam has someone he likes.” “But the girl he likes seems to have disappeared years ago. He spent so much effort looking for her but couldn’t find her. I remember her last name was Miller… what a coincidence, Grace Miller!” I lowered my eyes, interrupting her fantasy. “Don’t overthink it. Miller is a common name.” “So, are you going to Liam’s birthday party tomorrow?” “No.” She was disappointed by the answer. But she seemed more interested in my connections. The autumn wind was bleak, rolling up fallen leaves on the street. I pulled my coat tighter, subconsciously touching my cold neck. Under Zoe’s relentless questioning. I opened the past I had deliberately sealed in my heart. “I had a crush on Liam. In my youth.” “A crush that was a complete failure from start to finish.” Freshman orientation day. Students went up one by one, confidently stating their hobbies. I lowered my head in embarrassment. I was poor. My mom died giving birth to me. My dad shouldered the burden of the family alone. In my junior year of high school, my dad was diagnosed with cancer. My brother dropped out to work. But the monthly medical bills still crushed us. When it was my turn, my palms sweated with nervousness. My stuttering made the students below laugh. “Where is this hillbilly from? Wearing a floral dress? So outdated. Can’t she keep up with trends?” “I saw her at move-in. Her family looks poor. Her suitcase lost two wheels, and she didn’t even replace it…” “Can’t even introduce herself properly. Get off the stage, don’t waste our time!” I clutched my skirt, face flushed. My dad and brother took me to buy this dress before school started. I said it was too expensive. My dad paid with a simple smile. “It’s okay, don’t worry about money. Wear something nice on the first day, leave a good impression.” The dress wasn’t cheap. $200. Half a month’s living expenses. I turned awkwardly to leave, but a loud voice came from the crowd. “Who said it’s ugly? It’s not. I think it looks good.” Following the voice, everyone fell silent. Liam leaned back in his chair, chewing gum. When he said that, his eyes were fixed on me. In that moment, the world faded to black and white, except for him. I could only see the bright eyes of the boy and the smile on his lips. Zoe nodded thoughtfully, shaking my arm excitedly. “So you started crushing on him then?” “Such a handsome guy saving you from embarrassment. I would have fallen for him too.” I sipped my tea calmly. Actually, no. My real interaction with Liam started during winter break. I was working at a car wash when the sound of an argument approached. A car braked hard in front of the shop. Then, a bouquet of exquisite flowers was thrown out the window, hitting me on the head as I bent over to adjust a machine. “Liam, what’s with your attitude? I came back to fix things, and this is how you treat me?” Liam’s lazy sneer followed. “Bella, I picked you up at the airport because I didn’t want to embarrass your parents. Why do you think I’d wait for you?” “We agreed to go to Columbia together, but you left for Paris without a word. What, you have the right to pursue dreams, but I don’t have the right to pursue love?” Bella laughed in anger. “Love? Don’t tell me the great Liam Sterling fell in love with someone else.” Liam turned his head, his eyes meeting mine as I rubbed my head. He smiled suddenly. “Did you think you were irreplaceable?” “Bella, let me tell you. From now on, anyone but you will do.” He got out of the car, took a black velvet box from his jacket, and tossed it to me. “For you.” Bella cried in anger. “Even a car wash girl?” Liam answered frivolously. “Yes.” Bella got out of the car crying and disappeared into the crowd. She didn’t look back, so she didn’t see Liam’s gaze fixed on her back the whole time. From that day on, I became Liam’s sidekick. Because he paid me to act with him. If I acted well, there was money. 3 I agreed. As a tool to provoke Bella. I spent almost the entire winter break with him. At parties, Liam gently wiped foam from my lips. When I lost at Truth or Dare, he drank for me with a smile, saying no one could bully me. Walking me home in the snow, snowflakes fell on his shoulders, but his umbrella tilted toward me. When I had a fever, he took me to the hospital. His busy figure touched my heart at some point. There were many moments when I even thought Liam was really my boyfriend. Dining at a high-end restaurant, he imitated a couple at the next table and said to me: “I want a scarf knitted by you too.” He said it casually, but I inevitably took it seriously. I started secretly preparing materials. Because I wasn’t skilled, I knitted and unraveled, over and over. The yarn lost its elasticity in places, looking a bit crooked. Bella didn’t care at first. After all, she didn’t believe Liam would really like someone as ordinary and plain as me. But halfway through winter break, Liam hadn’t given her a single glance. Bella panicked. In a bar, his friends jokingly called me “Sister-in-law.” Liam lazily pulled down his collar, revealing a temporary tattoo of my initials on his collarbone. Everyone exclaimed, saying he really fell for me. In that moment, Bella finally snapped. She smashed a beer bottle over my head, the butterfly tattoo on her wrist trembling. “Grace Miller, who are you to compete with me? Does a hillbilly like you deserve him?” Red blood flowed down my brow bone into my eye. My vision turned red, but I still saw clearly. Liam smiled, eyes fixed on Bella. He was trying hard to hide the heartache in his eyes. He wanted Bella to regret, to go crazy, to lose her mind for him. On the verge of Bella’s breakdown, Liam finally stopped hiding his pain. He pulled the weeping Bella into his arms, kissing her lips with restraint. “Just a tattoo sticker. You believed it?” No one cared about me, covered in blood. The people who called me “Sister-in-law” cheered for their love. I quietly exited with the others, leaving them space. After treating the wound, I hid the half-knitted scarf deep in the closet. Liam didn’t look for me for a whole semester. Maybe he forgot about me. His relationship with Bella seemed to get better. Sometimes in class, I saw Liam video chatting with Bella. His eyes looking at her were always so gentle. Probably due to the time difference, Bella was usually sleeping in bed, like a lazy, noble cat. I don’t know why, but my heart felt sour. I suddenly remembered when we lay on the grass watching stars, he said out of nowhere: “If only it could be like this forever.” I was confused. “What?” He fell silent. After a long time, he shook his head and said nothing. Later, the hospital urged payment for my dad’s bills. My brother’s advance wages couldn’t cover the expenses. Desperate, I remembered Liam hadn’t paid my last installment. So I gathered my courage and found Liam at his usual bar. Liam must have fought with Bella again. He hid in the darkness, the air around him terrifyingly cold. Everyone held their breath, waiting for Liam’s answer. He said, act with him one more time. I did. A staged kidnapping. Liam’s distress and deep affection when saving me were reported online. He successfully provoked Bella again. I paid my dad’s medical bills. Half a month later. He suddenly handed me a birthday invitation. I took it nervously, calculating what to give. He seemed to lack nothing. I couldn’t afford expensive things; he wouldn’t like cheap ones. Thinking about it, my eyes fell on the unfinished scarf. When I gave the scarf at his party, the room went silent. Then erupted in harsh laughter. Liam didn’t laugh. Embarrassed, I tried to pull my hand back, but Liam grabbed my wrist. “Thanks. It’s nice. I like it.” One day later, I realized this was probably another show for Bella. The next day, it rained heavily. Amidst thunder, I received a call. “Is this Grace Miller? Your brother, John, had an accident at the construction site. He was gone before reaching the hospital. The hospital needs family to sign…” The foreman said my brother fell from a height because he didn’t fasten his safety rope properly. I didn’t believe it. My brother was never careless. I wanted to ask for details, but the construction company paid $80,000 and closed the case. Holding the money, I felt lost, tears not even falling yet. At the same time, my dad learned of my brother’s death. In the hospital. He hesitated for a long time, then said with a trembling voice, “The doctor says it’s terminal, medicine won’t help. Grace, I’m stopping treatment.” I disagreed, insisting he stay. My dad started packing, walking out without looking back. At the hospital entrance, I knelt and blocked him, breaking down. “Dad, please treat it. I only have you left. I’ll pay! I’ll drop out and work!” “Brother just died. I don’t want to live without you!” “I’ll kowtow to you. Please!” Passersby stopped to watch, shaking their heads and sighing. In the hospital, this happened every day. Not rare. Three days after handling my brother’s funeral, I went to school to withdraw. I happened to hear Liam say he would throw away that ridiculous scarf. Zoe clicked her tongue. “How could this happen…” The welcome chime at the door rang with a gust of cold wind. I silenced myself, wiping a tear. Before I could say “Welcome.” A pair of wet men’s leather shoes appeared in my vision. “Grace Miller… is it really you?!” 4 It was Liam. Before coming to New York, I imagined meeting old acquaintances many times. So, my gaze was calm. Six years of hardship were enough for me to handle everything with composure. Liam stood there, panting, travel-worn, hair messy, like he rushed from far away. He looked at me. I looked back without hesitation. The emotion in his eyes was familiar. I seemed to have seen it somewhere. But I couldn’t remember. But I understood one truth. Business is about service attitude. I stood up unhurriedly. “Hello.” In my polite, distant greeting, Liam realized his brashness. He grabbed my wrist, as if afraid I’d run. “Grace, let’s talk.” I didn’t agree, smiling. “We do need to talk. The Sterling Group is hosting the next fashion show. Our autumn designs are ready. Since you’re here…” He interrupted me. “Grace, you know that’s not what I want to talk about.” My business smile faded. Silence for a long time. I spoke slowly. “Liam, you weren’t wrong back then. You just didn’t like me. We used each other. No misunderstanding.” The light in his eyes extinguished. After a long while, he murmured. “I’m sorry.” Sorry? I didn’t know if he was sorry for saying he’d throw away the scarf. Or something else. But it didn’t matter. I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to know. Just as I was about to call a staff member, I realized Zoe had quietly left. Liam suddenly asked tremblingly, “How is your father?” “Passed away. The day I dropped out.” I suddenly remembered Liam had met my dad. There was a flu outbreak in New York. I had a high fever. Delirious. Waking up, my dad’s sickly face had a rare teasing look. “You were calling a name.” “Who is Liam? Is our Grace in love?” Embarrassed, I pulled the blanket over my head. Tracing his face in my chaotic mind. Until I heard someone calling my name outside the blanket. “Grace, wake up, eat something.” “Feeling better today?” My blanket was lifted gently. The person I was missing stood by the bed. He greeted my dad with a smile. “Hello Uncle, I’m Liam, Grace’s boyfriend.” Facing my dad, Liam never showed his rich-kid temper. When my dad offered hometown specialties, I was nervous. Liam was picky. He wouldn’t even look at delicacies, let alone salty preserved meats. But Liam showed no disgust. He gave a thumbs up, saying it was delicious. Before he left, my dad packed a huge bag for him. But later, when I went to his house… I saw the familiar plastic bag in the kitchen trash. In that moment, I understood. The young master had good manners. Even if he didn’t like it, he gave me face in front of my dad. My dad didn’t know about our deal. He thought we were in a healthy relationship. Seeing us together on the street, he would Venmo me money. “I can tell Liam is a good kid. Get along well. Eat whatever you want.” “With him taking care of you, I have no worries.” I thought it was just a normal sigh. I didn’t expect that after I returned home from withdrawing, a neighbor rushed in shouting. “Grace! Your dad jumped into the ocean!”

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The friendship between Asher, Genevieve, and me spanned what felt like seventy years. They were celebrated chemists. And I was the chemist’s wife, and the chemist’s best friend. My life was spent quietly supporting their careers. Then they died on the same day. Their wills stipulated that they leave all their assets to each other and be buried side-by-side: “I want to properly make it up to Genevieve in the next life.” “Next time, can you not compete with me for Asher, please?” In a blink, I was eighteen again. Watching their faces flush as they looked into each other’s eyes, I smiled and erased the answers on my placement exam sheet. This time, I wouldn’t participate in their love story, or be their accessory. I had a name. I had my own life. 1 I walked out of the classroom and immediately saw Asher, my boyfriend, and Genevieve, my best friend, kissing in the hallway. “You’re insane, what if Scarlett sees us?” “What am I supposed to do? I love you. After getting this second chance, I’m not afraid of anything.” The corner of his white shirt lifted in the breeze. Her long hair swayed gently in the same wind. Two brilliant students, two intellectual prodigies—a match made in heaven. I stood there for a long time. Only after they separated and regained their composure did I walk over to grab my backpack. Genevieve greeted me as if nothing had happened. “Scarlett, why did you submit your paper so late? Didn’t I secretly signal the answers to you?” Asher deliberately averted his eyes, his voice flat and cold. “Hurry up and pack. We’re waiting for you.” In the setting sun, our three shadows were separated by a wide space. “Cheating isn’t good. I wanted to rely on myself. I re-calculated every problem,” I said, looking up. “I have plans with another friend. I won’t be walking home with you two.” Asher and Genevieve froze simultaneously. I shouldered my backpack and turned, jogging in the opposite direction. If we’d all been given a second chance, then let’s each walk our own path and grant each other the freedom to do so. 2 In elementary school, the annual physical examination uncovered three cases of a vanishingly rare blood type in the entire district. It was me, Asher, and Genevieve. That bizarre coincidence was what brought us together and kept us linked for seventy years. The first pair of sneakers that truly fit me were a gift from Genevieve. The first love letter I received was from Asher. They were smart and beautiful, from well-off families. As they soared, they never completely left me behind, dragging me along to the same university and into the same research institute. Even in death. My tomb was squeezed tightly next to theirs. It was a small plot carved out beside the mountains of flowers sent by countless junior scholars. The name “Scarlett” on my headstone had long faded, almost invisible. But the imposing block letters—Wife of Chemist Asher [Surname], Closest Confidante of Chemist Genevieve [Surname]—were stark and clear. It made passersby realize, Oh, right. There was someone else. In truth, I lived a life of comfort, accompanied by geniuses. I shouldn’t have had any regrets. But standing at the endpoint of that life, looking back, I realized that so many of my hurts were ones I swallowed in silence. 3 In school, my grades were mediocre, but I had a real talent for drawing. I’d even been recognized by the Dean of the prestigious Pratt Institute. My family couldn’t afford to send me to intensive training, so I secretly taught myself and signed up for the arts college entrance exam. But on the day of the test, Asher and Genevieve got into a car accident. To give them a blood transfusion, I missed the exam. In the hospital room, Genevieve cried, apologizing to me. “I’m so sorry, so sorry, it’s all our fault! But seriously, you, a regular person, were thinking of art school? Art is so expensive, can your family even afford it?” Genevieve wasn’t wrong. My family couldn’t even cover the fees for me to re-take the college entrance exam, so art school wasn’t a sensible choice. There was disappointment and hurt in my heart. But I had saved the lives of two dear friends, so it felt worth it. To repay me, Asher and Genevieve spent my entire senior year intensely coaching me. In the end, all three of us stayed in New York City. They were admitted to a top-tier university, while I went to a state school for a two-year associate’s degree in Business Management. My school was close, very close, to theirs. Life was stable and happy with my close friends nearby. The year I graduated, the Dean of Pratt Institute hadn’t forgotten me. He invited me to join his restoration project internship at the Smithsonian National Gallery. I was thrilled and rushed to tell Asher and Genevieve. Instead, I learned they had both been headhunted by a research institute and were moving to a remote state research hub in the Pacific Northwest. Genevieve held my hand, reluctant to let go. “Scarlett, I’m truly happy for you, you’re finally achieving your dream! But your long-distance relationship with Asher is going to be tough, right? Also, is that Dean really legit? It’s strange for someone so prestigious to specifically invite you, a…” Asher sat in the corner, silent. A flicker of dissatisfaction crossed his cool eyes. We mutually agreed to a break to plan our lives. The news that arrived before the breakup, however, was my pregnancy. 4 They say the fetus releases hormones to interfere with the mother’s thinking to ensure its survival. Perhaps thinking of my own mother who raised me as a single parent, or perhaps simply seeing a life, I couldn’t bring myself to have the procedure. I turned down the internship, married Asher, and moved with him to the Pacific Northwest research hub. Asher and Genevieve’s careers were flourishing, and they even secured a clerical “relative position” for me at the institute. The pay was low, the work was minimal—easy and stable. The institute-assigned townhomes were adjacent, and the three of us continued to spend every day together. Summer BBQs, winter fondue parties—life was warm and comfortable. A few years later, a position opened up for the Director of Communications at the institute. My performance over the years had been stellar. I’d won several national awards for the institute, and the scientific infographics and illustrations I created were chosen as the national publicity template. I was on the path to promotion. However, Asher and Genevieve were also being promoted simultaneously and were set to leave for a critical, high-level project in the high-desert facility in Arizona. Genevieve bought champagne to celebrate. “Cheers to us all shining in our respective fields! But, Scarlett, the Director role is going to be so demanding. Weekly meetings across the state—you won’t have time to manage the house, will you?” Asher held our daughter, who was secretly wiping away tears, and reminded me in a low voice: “Scarlett, one of us has to take care of Tess.” Our daughter was about to start elementary school. Genevieve’s son, Leo—the result of her unplanned single-motherhood, as she’d claimed—was just off formula. Someone had to manage the household affairs, and someone needed to look after the elderly parents. After weighing the options. It was me, yet again, who conceded, giving up the promotion opportunity. I put down the paintbrush for good and picked up the spatula, devoting myself to the family for decades in a whirlwind of domestic chores. The children grew up successful, and the family was harmonious. I lived a life many envied. But what did I think about during those restless nights? I thought about the day my mother died. I frantically called my immediate supervisor, Genevieve, begging for special permission to leave the state. I called from morning until night, pleading with so many people. Only after my mother took her last breath did I receive a text from Asher explaining: “Genevieve was chairing a high-stakes review for a multi-million dollar project—her phone was off and silent. Your minor issue can wait until another day.” … I thought about the day my daughter got married, and I picked up my brush to prepare a gift for her. The piece looked worse than something a first-year art student would whip up. I never displayed it or gave it to her. The time I wasted discarding the artwork delayed me. When I returned to the reception hall, Genevieve had already taken my place, holding my daughter’s hand and walking her out for the send-off. … I thought about the day Asher received his Lifetime Achievement Award. The children, students, and colleagues gathered around me backstage, helping me adjust the corsage. The cameras would focus on me, his wife, when he offered his thanks. I was going to be on national television. But. Asher spoke for a long time, mentioning every detail of his journey, yet he never once spoke my name. It was all Genevieve. He thanked his lifelong partner, his closest confidante, his soulmate, Genevieve. From the day they met in their youth until they grew old together, Genevieve had accompanied him through every landscape of his life. They had watched the stars together in the vast emptiness of the desert. They had stood side-by-side at the pinnacle of the chemical world. My decades of cooking, cleaning, and managing the minutiae of life—a housekeeper could have done the same. What was there to thank me for? 5 I arranged the funerals for Asher and Genevieve. They died on the same day. The last wills they left behind contained the exact same phrase. To leave the estate to the other, and to be buried together. “Scarlett, I gave you all my love in this life, but in the next, I want to properly compensate her.” “Scarlett, I gave you all my love in this life, but in the next, can you please stop competing with me for him?” What was I then? Was I just a spectator in their magnificent lives? I suddenly remembered the night, decades ago, when Asher confessed his love to me. I carried milkshakes and went to meet them for New Year’s Eve. I opened the door to find flowers and a cake in the living room. The candlelight reflected in Asher’s deep eyes, focused intensely on Genevieve. The words slipped out. “Are you two confessing?” Genevieve instantly blushed and pushed me toward Asher. “How could we be! I would never like this jerk! We’re competitors! We just want to out-score and obliterate each other to be top of the class!” The clock struck midnight, and colorful fireworks exploded outside the window. Asher gave Genevieve one last look, then pulled the love letter from his pocket and handed it to me. “Yeah, I don’t like her either. Don’t flatter yourself. I like Scarlett.” The prince and princess were just sparring partners, speaking lies against their hearts. And the extra, the background character, foolishly believed every word. I spent a lifetime marking up the wrong manuscript, mistaking a footnote for a chapter. If only I could start over. If only I could start over. I would stay far away from both of them. I would reclaim my vibrant, brilliant life. 6 I woke up during the last half-year of high school. The school was splitting into an elite STEM track and a General Studies track. Without Genevieve’s help on the placement exam, my score was only good enough for the General Studies track. I felt it was a perfect chance to say goodbye. I exited the three-person group chat, deleted their contacts, and only left one message. “I need to focus on my studies. I won’t be using my phone anymore.” I didn’t expect Asher to track me down on the first day of the new semester. He wore a clean, blue-and-white uniform, his posture was perfect, and his features were handsome, drawing the attention of every girl who passed by. Even in our previous life, Asher, well into his later years, never lacked admirers. Looking at that face now, I didn’t feel a single flicker of attraction. “Scarlett, I’m going to request an opportunity from the principal for you to retake the placement exam and rejoin the STEM track. Prepare yourself.” Just as I was about to speak, Genevieve suddenly ran up, linking her arms through both of ours. “What are you two whispering about without me? You’ve got a boyfriend and you forget your best friend and best rival?!” “Scarlett, honestly, I told you the answers, and you didn’t even cheat. How do you expect to pass the exam on your own?” “And Asher is such a good-looking guy, if you don’t keep a tight leash on him, what if another girl snaps him up this semester?” I delicately tasted the subtext in every one of her sentences and then slowly lowered my gaze and smiled. I turned and gently detached Genevieve’s arm. “Then I’ll just break up with Asher now. We won’t be in the same classes, and we’re not living together anymore. Dating would just be a hassle. I need to focus on my studies for the next few months until graduation.” Asher froze for an instant, his hands slowly clenching into fists at his sides. Just as I turned to leave, he suddenly grabbed my wrist. “Scarlett, you’ll regret this.”

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The intern who ranked dead last in company performance just landed a manager position, all thanks to my husband. I’d been overseas for a six-month executive program, and her salary tripled. On my first day back, the girl publicly splashed coffee all over my new custom-tailored Armani suit. “Marcus said that if I wanted your job, all he has to do is say the word.” I countered by slapping her termination papers right onto her chest. My husband and his entire inner circle responded by throwing their own resignation letters onto my desk. “Unless you reinstate her immediately, we all walk today.” I smiled. “Perfect. I’ll replace all of you, starting with you.” 1 The air in the spacious conference room was thick, frozen solid. All eyes were fixed on Marcus Shaw. And why wouldn’t they be? Every single person currently in the room was a loyalist he’d personally promoted. The senior staff I had trained and mentored? They had either been systematically sidelined or politely phased out by him under various pretexts over the last six months. Sienna Tate saw the clear shift in momentum and didn’t even bother pretending anymore. She leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs, and a look of unconcealed mockery danced in her eyes. “Ms. Rhodes,” she purred, using my formal title with maximum disdain. “See this? You trying to move me? It’s not going to be that easy.” “As long as Marcus is on my side, no one in this room can touch me.” “And I hate to break it to you, but these days, Marcus is the one calling the shots at Aether Advisors, inside and out. You? You’re just a very expensive figurehead.” She chuckled, then reached for the coffee cup on the table. Finding it empty, a junior associate scrambled to her side to refill it. The steam rose, and the smug triumph on her face was almost blinding. “How does that feel? A little tight in the chest?” “Too bad. You’re just going to have to swallow it.” The conference room was meant to be a place of quiet focus, but Sienna couldn’t care less, her voice becoming sharper with every word. Seeing my silence only fueled her. “Honestly, ‘Department Manager’ sounds a little boring anyway. I saw your corner office—the view looks incredible from up there.” This was no longer a subtle grab; it was open coveting of my position as CEO. I truly didn’t understand her audacity. What gave her this bulletproof confidence? I shifted my gaze, sweeping over the stack of glaring white resignation letters, then slowly looked up, meeting every pair of eyes in the room. “Have you all thought this through? You’re going to use your careers as leverage to force my hand, all for her?” “Is she—an underperforming employee who has done nothing but cause problems—worth sacrificing your futures for? Really?” I found the whole situation darkly amusing, and I leaned back against the leather seat, truly baffled by their collective choice. “Camille, you’re missing the point.” Marcus’s voice cut in, cold and sharp. “They aren’t doing this for her. They are doing it for me. I am the one who controls their future here. Your words no longer carry any weight.” The moment the words left his mouth, the conference room door swung open, and the assembled staff respectfully chorused: “Mr. Shaw.” Each one of those “Mr. Shaw’s” landed like a fresh, stinging slap across my face. Aether Advisors wasn’t his—it was my blood, sweat, and vision. I was the sole founder. Yet, now, these employees only saw Marcus. “Good, everyone’s here.” Marcus visibly relished the deference, his face alight with the calm confidence of a man in control. He looked at me, a curl of cruel mockery on his lip. “You see the situation. Withdraw the termination, reinstate Sienna immediately, or they all walk. You can’t afford the fallout of a core team collapse. You simply can’t handle the mess.” Listening to Marcus’s ruthless threats, my nails dug deep into my palms. I couldn’t understand why he was pushing this, why he would go to such lengths for an outsider. We were husband and wife. “Marcus, are you out of your mind?” “You’re colluding with outsiders to take me down?” My voice trembled with anger. If I didn’t still have a thread of residual feeling for him, the pain wouldn’t have cut so deep. 2 I knew better than anyone: a mass walkout of the core team meant catastrophic destruction for the firm. “Outsider?” Marcus scoffed. “Sienna is like family. I’ve mentored her, watched her grow, and I won’t stand by while she’s bullied.” “I gave her a small promotion. Why did you have to turn this into a war, terminating her just to spite me?” When had I ever tried to spite him? This was a calculated smear. “What benefits did Sienna bring the firm in the last six months to justify a meteoric rise to Department Manager?” “As far as I know, not only did she fail to contribute, but her gross negligence cost us the contracts with Crestwood Holdings and Zenith Capital. The direct loss is over two million dollars.” I hadn’t pursued legal action against her—that was my mercy. And now they wanted me to compromise? Hearing me bring up old failings, the smile vanished from Sienna’s face, and she immediately turned a look of wounded innocence on Marcus. “Marcus, listen to her! She failed to close those clients herself, but she’s making me take the fall! She’s deliberately giving me impossible projects, just so I can’t succeed. She’s professionally bullying me!” Her words were the spark. Marcus’s loyalists—his former college peers and recruits—erupted into indignation. “A boss who sabotages staff instead of supporting them? That’s appalling!” “Exactly. There’s no future with an owner like that. We have to stand with Sienna!” “We won’t bow to this injustice!” In an instant, the conference room was filled with a flurry of accusations, as if I were the ruthless, evil one. I watched these unfamiliar faces with cold detachment. All of them had been slotted in by Marcus during the six months I was gone. I was beginning to understand exactly what Marcus was attempting. He was trying to isolate and neutralize me. I thought back to when he first arrived—a young intern whose carelessness nearly got him fired, a kid who could only hang his head and apologize when he messed up. If I hadn’t come down with a severe stomach bug that one time, and if he hadn’t carried me downstairs and rushed me to the emergency room… I probably never would have noticed him. I wouldn’t have taken him under my wing, and I certainly wouldn’t have… fallen in love with him. I never imagined his ambition was this vast, his appetite this greedy. But this little squall? He thought this was enough to capsize my ship? He was gravely mistaken. I casually picked up the top resignation letter, weighed it in my hand, then tossed it back onto the table in front of Marcus with a look of utter scorn. “Threatening me? I’m Camille Rhodes. I’ve seen worse than this.” “Anyone who wants to leave, you are free to process your paperwork now. The door is open. Don’t let it hit you on the way out.” My words stunned the room into silence. Everyone exchanged uneasy glances. They hadn’t anticipated that I would simply refuse to bend to their coercion. Marcus’s face instantly darkened, his expression so grim it looked like rain would pour from it. “Are you sure you want to play this game?” “What did you expect? Isn’t this exactly what you wanted?” “You want to threaten me with resignations? Threats are the one thing Camille Rhodes does not fear.” “This firm can run without anyone. If you want to walk, I won’t beg you to stay.” Sienna panicked, grabbing Marcus’s arm. “Marcus, what is this…?” “Don’t worry. I’m here. She can’t touch you.” Marcus stood up and walked toward me. “I forgot to mention one thing, Camille. This firm? It’s mine now.” “I wanted to be decent, let you keep your title, let you take your dividends quietly—after all, I owe you. But since you insisted on making a scene, don’t blame me for letting go of the past.” “What does that mean?” I met his icy gaze, lifting my chin. Marcus smiled, reaching out to pat my shoulder, but I deliberately shifted, avoiding his touch. Unfazed, he lowered his hand and adjusted his cuff links. “It means I’ve secured the support of the other partners and completed an internal vote. I am the de facto controller of Aether Advisors. I choose who works here and who doesn’t. Understood?” Sienna nearly jumped for joy. “Marcus! Is that true?” Marcus gave her a confirming nod. Sienna immediately rushed to hug his arm, jutting her chin up at me in blatant victory. The others in the room seemed to find this familiarity normal, relieved only that they had backed the winning side. 3 The fire of rage burned at its peak in my chest. Behind my back, Marcus had not only betrayed our marriage but was now attempting to steal my life’s work. “Haha, are you mad?” Sienna’s laughter was brazen. “Good. You should be. I might as well tell you: whatever wifely affection you two shared died completely the last time he flew overseas to see you.” “The night before you returned? We were together. Oh, and I’m pregnant. It’s Marcus’s baby.” “You know, you’re not a very successful wife, are you?” The eyes of the employees around me were filled with mocking curiosity, devoid of any respect. As Marcus had said, this was no longer my ground. Though I remained outwardly calm, my inner world was a sea of turmoil. I had underestimated Marcus’s cruelty. No wonder Sienna was so arrogant; my good husband had given her every reason to be. They all thought I was finished. I swept the stack of resignation letters onto the floor, slowly stood up, and faced the couple. “The company I built with my own hands? You think you can just take it?” “I am still the corporate representative of this firm. I have not signed any stock transfer agreements. I will ask you again: By what right is my company now yours?” Marcus didn’t get angry; he just laughed. He casually loosened his tie, pulling Sienna closer into his embrace. “I figured you’d say that. So, I prepared a little ‘gift’ just for you.” “Please, gentlemen, come in.” The conference room door was pushed open again, and several men walked in. They were the other founding partners of Aether Advisors. Right now, their eyes were directed only at Marcus, completely ignoring my presence. “What… what is the meaning of this?” A chill snaked up from my gut. “Can’t you tell?” Sienna eagerly piped up, her voice sickly sweet. “These men are here to support Marcus! They’re here to ask you… to permanently leave Aether!” Sienna’s answer earned her a look of approval from Marcus. “Sweetheart, you’re getting the perfect executive wife demeanor.” Marcus turned to me, his eyes now filled only with greed and chilling detachment. “Once you take over, Marcus, you have to let me sit in the managing partner’s chair. I want to feel what it’s like to be the boss!” Sienna cooed, playing the role. Her level of competence? She barely managed the manager role. Managing Partner was a pipe dream. Marcus straightened, facing all the partners, his voice clear and resonant. “Gentlemen, since Camille is here, let’s get a show of hands so no one can accuse me of acting dishonorably.” The words were barely out of his mouth when the partners spoke in unison: “We support Mr. Shaw!” That single, collective sentence was like an array of icy darts, stabbing into my heart. These partners were the people I had fought alongside, starting from a tiny shared cubicle. We were more than just partners; we were comrades. How could they all have defected to Marcus after I was gone for only six months? This was an insult I absolutely refused to swallow. “Why? Tell me, why would you do this?” My voice was dry and hoarse. The partners remained expressionless, their tone clinical and cold. “Mr. Shaw can make us more money. His strategies are more aggressive than yours. We’re businessmen, Camille. It’s purely about profit.” Purely about profit? The irony was suffocating. Had I shortchanged them on dividends? When had I ever closed a major deal without ensuring they got a generous share? I’d protected them, and they had stabbed me in the back. 4 Hearing the partners’ declaration, Sienna’s pride was almost uncontrollable. “Camille, do you hear that? You’re out. Your employees hate you, your partners don’t support you—how pathetic. All these years of hard work, only to hand it all over to us.” “Why are you still sitting there? Get up.” “That chair is mine now.” I completely ignored the jumping jack in front of me, staring only at Marcus and the circle of traitors. Not a single person spoke up for me. They were all united in forcing me out. “If you’d only been reasonable and promoted Sienna when I asked, you wouldn’t be in this situation.” Marcus’s voice was triumphant. “Do you understand now? I made you who you are, and I can just as easily destroy you.” My clenched fists were white at the knuckles. Marcus couldn’t wait to see me disgraced. He gave a sharp look toward the security personnel near the door. “Camille, two options. Walk out on your own and keep some shred of dignity, or let my security team drag you out. Your choice.” But I, Camille Rhodes, wouldn’t choose either. “Idiot. Without my countersignature, any alleged transfer of equity—even if all of you agree—is legally void.” “Oh, is that so?” Marcus had been waiting for this. He threw a document onto the table in front of me. “Then take a good look. You already signed it.” “Last month when I came to see you, I saw how stressed you were with your studies, so I slipped in a ‘Restorative Retreat Suggestion’ for you to sign, remember? The key clause? It was right in the middle.” “How about that, Camille? After all these years with you, I didn’t just learn your methods. I learned to use them better than you ever could.” Seeing my face drop, Sienna seized the opportunity to twist the knife. “I was there that night, too. You had barely left for your campus when I walked into his hotel room. And it only took once to get pregnant. Thanks for vacating the premises for us!” I shot up, swinging my hand to slap Marcus, but he caught my wrist. “Still resorting to violence? Security! Get her out of here!” Strangely, the security guards didn’t move. Marcus roared in frustration, “Are you deaf?” I yanked my hand free and delivered the slap. “You seem to have forgotten one thing, Marcus. I brought you up from an intern, and I can send you right back to where you started.”

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When I decided to move across the country to Minneapolis for him, my mother chased me out of the house with a broom, screaming. “That broke kid has nothing! You’re going there to suffer. If you marry him, I don’t have a daughter!” For six years in the freezing north, Caleb Hayes swallowed every hardship. With hands covered in chilblains and calluses, he built us a home, brick by brick. On New Year’s Eve, I was searching through the homemade ravioli for the one I’d marked—the one hiding the custom engagement ring I bought for him—when the police called. They said my boyfriend had been in a bar fight. It was bad. I needed to go to the precinct. I braved the blizzard to get there. After bowing and apologizing profusely to the other party, I signed his release papers. Caleb reeked of cheap whiskey, his face bruised and purple. A young woman was clutching the hem of his coat, crying like a tragic heroine. “Caleb, thank you for standing up for me. My ex-husband is violent and has a temper… he’ll definitely keep harassing me. My son and I can’t hold on much longer.” “Little Oliver loves the ravioli you make. He waits every day for ‘Daddy Caleb’ to come keep him company. Caleb, please… give us a home.” I lost my mind. I smashed my phone right there in the station precinct and screamed at Caleb. It was the biggest fight we’d ever had. I questioned him hysterically. He called me heartless. Finally, he surrendered. He promised to transfer his female colleague to another department and never speak to her again. After that, Caleb never mentioned Tanya Brooks again. Their chat history showed nothing but professional exchanges. Until I discovered the second user profile on Caleb’s phone. They hadn’t stopped talking. They just moved from the light into the shadows where I couldn’t see. They moved from Caleb’s main account to a private one filled with close friends and relatives. Every photo he posted of him and that mother-son duo was met with sincere blessings from his family. I scrolled back to the chat logs from New Year’s Eve. Tanya: I found a ring in the ravioli. Was your girlfriend planning to propose? I should bring it back to you. Caleb: No need. Just pretend you didn’t see it. I don’t want to get married right now anyway. Fine. Let it be as he wishes. I’ve been away from home for six years. It’s time to go back. Chapter 1 Caleb was busy in the kitchen. “Summer, I’ve reheated the food three times, it might not taste great anymore.” “I can order takeout if you want, or we can go out. That Japanese place down the street is still…” He turned around and met my red-rimmed eyes. Caleb’s expression instantly softened. “Come on, babe, stop pouting.” “You’re always the understanding one, right?” I dodged his touch and said coldly: “Get the ravioli back.” Caleb’s smile froze. He untied his apron, balled it up, and threw it hard at my feet. He pointed a finger at my face, shaking it a few times, before gritting his teeth and saying, “Fine.” The call connected. Tanya said her son had already eaten the ravioli. “I’m so sorry. How much were they? I’ll pay you back.” Caleb looked humiliated. A plate of pasta, a never-ending farce. “It’s fine, Summer is just being childish. I’ll buy her more…” “Caleb, it’s not the same,” I interrupted. Suddenly, Caleb smashed his phone. The screen shattered, glass shrapnel flying. A piece grazed my arm, drawing blood. His voice boomed: “What the hell is your problem today?” “It’s just a damn plate of pasta, Summer. You’re being way too obvious with your jealousy against Tanya.” I stood there, stunned. Caleb pulled a wad of cash from his wallet and threw it in my face. The bills fluttered down, mixed with three ticket stubs to Six Flags. “Is that enough?” He pulled out a credit card. Threw it. “Is that enough!” “I’ll pay for her!” My eardrums throbbed. In six years, this was the first time Caleb had ever exploded at me. He looked vicious, like he wanted to devour me. My chest ached so badly I couldn’t speak. I could only fumble through my phone gallery, desperate to find the video from five years ago where he promised he’d marry me on this exact date. He was the one who forgot. “Fine. Let’s both cool off tonight.” Caleb pushed my phone away. “Summer Vance, you need to reflect on your jealousy.” The door slammed shut. I began to dry heave uncontrollably. I clutched the fabric over my chest. It was the only way to relieve the suffocation. When I was done crying, done gasping for air, I picked myself up off the floor and started packing my meager belongings. Six years ago, I came here with nothing but courage. Six years later, I was leaving with nothing but loneliness. Tanya updated her Instagram Story. The caption: The happiest New Year. The background was a high-end steakhouse. Caleb was holding the child, and Tanya was leaning intimately against his side. While I was packing, they went for a feast. The table was full of food. The “dinner” Caleb was reheating in the kitchen earlier? It was their leftovers. It included shrimp—Tanya’s favorite, but a deadly allergen for me. He didn’t even think to pick it out when he was heating it up for me. Caleb’s assistant commented on the post: “Wow, that was fast. Tanya’s charm is no joke.” “Caleb preaches about being a bachelor at the office, but look at him bowing down to Queen Tanya.” The screen went black, reflecting my pale, ghostly face. My hands shook as I packed the last item. At the bottom of the suitcase lay the Greyhound bus ticket I bought six years ago to come to Minneapolis. Thirty-two hours on a bus. But my six years? To Caleb, they weren’t even real. Chapter 2 It’s laughable, really. After living in Minneapolis for so many years, I had no friends, no job, and the only money I had was what Caleb threw at me last night. I only learned how to revolve around him. I learned to make soup, to put him first, to empty my savings account just to buy him a $5,000 watch to see him smile. I was truly stupid. Stupid enough to hand over my heart without reservation, letting him bruise it. “One ticket to Austin, Texas, please.” The lady at the counter suddenly spoke up. “Hey? Aren’t you that girl from six years ago?” I looked up. My gray face finally regained some color. “You remember me?” The lady smiled. “Who wouldn’t remember you two?” “That boy waited outside the station for a day and a night. The snow piled up on his shoulders, he looked like an ice sculpture, but he wouldn’t leave, terrified he’d miss you.” “We told him to come inside and have some hot tea. The kid smiled awkwardly and said he was starting a business and had spent all his money on a gift for you. He couldn’t even afford a bus ride; he walked five hours to get to the station.” I listened, entranced. My chest felt tight and sour. From a condemned basement to a rental apartment, to the luxury condo we had now. The boy swallowed his suffering alone. With hands scarred by the cold, he picked up one brick at a time, building happiness, building a home. He had said, “We won’t fear the winter anymore.” “Summer, I was scared you’d come, but scared you wouldn’t.” “I was afraid you’d suffer with me.” “But I was more afraid you didn’t love me.” He cried that day. He held me so tight he almost rubbed me into his own body. I cried too. We were happy then. How did we flow from that happiness into this river of pain? “Miss? Your ticket.” My fingertips trembled. It felt like I wasn’t taking a ticket, but a knife to sever the past. “Don’t cry.” The ticket lady glanced at the expensive jade bangle on my wrist and seemed to relax a bit. “When you accompany a man from nothing to everything, don’t talk about feelings. Talk about money. Talk about whether he’s willing to be good to you.” I nodded. I crinkled the ticket in my grip. Before I could board, Caleb chased me down. Just like six years ago, he sprinted toward me and crushed me into a hug. I could hear his chaotic breathing, his rapid heartbeat, and his voice shaking into pieces: “Don’t go…” “Summer, I was just mad, I wasn’t kicking you out…” Caleb tore up my ticket, scooped me up into his arms, and shoved me into the passenger seat of his car. “You care about me seeing Tanya, right?” “I transferred her to a different team. I’ll keep my distance.” I stayed silent. I stared blankly at the car ornament dangling from the mirror—a gift from Tanya. The car smelled entirely of citrus—Tanya’s perfume. The glove box, which should have been filled with my things, was stuffed with snacks her kid liked and lipstick shades that weren’t mine. I blinked, my eyes feeling incredibly dry. Caleb didn’t notice anything wrong. He was rambling about taking me to Aspen for a vacation after the holidays. I sighed softly. I didn’t even have the energy to nod. Chapter 3 Caleb never mentioned Tanya again. Their texts were strictly business. Clean cut. “Summer, I’m running for Vice President, work is going to be crazy.” His voice came through the phone receiver. It didn’t feel real. “I wired money to your account. Go shopping, buy whatever you like. Don’t focus all your energy on me.” Every day he came home, I was asleep. When he left in the morning, I was still dreaming. The microwave held the breakfast he prepared. The dirty clothes I wore were washed and hung on the balcony. Caleb’s traces were everywhere in the house. I could see them. But I couldn’t touch them anymore. I could feel us drifting apart. The relationship had rusted. If you scrubbed off the rust, it might look the same as before. But it had lost its weight. It floated in the air, wobbling uncontrollably with the slightest breeze. I had planned to take the money and leave, but the biggest variable was that I got pregnant. At first, I was lethargic, had no appetite, and threw up constantly. I told Caleb. The next day he bought a huge bag of medicine and told me to take it, then rushed off without even a warning to check the labels. It wasn’t until I took the pills and felt awful that I went to the hospital and found out I was pregnant. “Whether we can keep the baby depends on further checks,” the doctor said, frowning. “You took a lot of antibiotics. There’s a risk of birth defects.” Two nurses had to carry me out. I spent the most agonizing six hours of my life outside that exam room. The back of my hand was bruised from pinching myself. My eyes were open, leaking moisture and guilt. I blamed myself for not realizing I was pregnant sooner. Why didn’t I check before taking the medicine? Why did I just swallow whatever Caleb handed me without a second thought? “For now, it looks okay. Come back next month for a checkup.” Relief washed over me. My mood improved, and I even ate an extra bowl of rice that night. Caleb didn’t come home until midnight. He reeked of alcohol. His cheek was cut and bleeding, and one eye was black and blue. “Did you get into a fight?” He mumbled something unintelligible and went straight to the bathroom. He threw his work phone on the bed. It pinged. Tanya: Caleb, thank you so much for standing up for me today. Otherwise, my ex would have kept harassing me. Tanya: I felt so helpless. If it weren’t for your company these past weeks, my son and I wouldn’t have made it. Oliver loves you. He waits for ‘Daddy Caleb’ every day. Caleb, please… give us a home. The text hit my nerves like a sledgehammer. It hurt. My insides felt like they were exploding. Daddy Caleb… Then who should my child call Daddy? Give them a home. What about my home? The home I had longed for since I was a child, the shelter from the storm—gone. Caleb tore it apart with his own hands. I bit the tip of my tongue, using the pain to force clarity, and scrolled through the entire chat history. They hadn’t stopped talking. They just moved from the open into the dark. I had been left behind again. Tanya: I found the ring in the ravioli. Was your girlfriend proposing? I’ll bring it back. Caleb: No need. Pretend you didn’t see it. I don’t want to get married right now. I couldn’t maintain my dignity anymore. Shaking, I typed a reply: You love being a homewrecker that much? You can have the trash, I don’t want it. “Summer Vance! What are you doing with my phone?”

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It was at the low-income street fair, as the city officers were clearing us out, that my ex-husband stepped in. Rhys sighed, the sound heavy, almost patronizing. “Let’s just remarry, Sera. Wren is too young to be going through this kind of hardship.” I agreed without a moment’s hesitation. When we moved back in, I stopped fighting. I stopped throwing fits of jealousy and I stopped demanding his time. Wren also stopped competing with his childhood friend’s daughter for her father’s attention. He could spend the night with Lana and her little girl, and my daughter and I wouldn’t call or text. If we ran into them in public, Wren and I would discreetly fade into the background. We became exactly the well-behaved, undemanding pair he always wanted us to be. But then, he looked at me, his eyes reddening. “Sera, why aren’t you angry?” “Wren, why don’t you just ask Daddy for a hug?” 1 We finished the re-marriage paperwork and walked back to the house. Rhys followed a step behind. Wren and I were standing at the front door. “Why don’t you go in?” he asked. I said, calmly, “The code’s been changed.” Just then, the door swung open from the inside. Lana Bellweather stood there in an apron, a feigned annoyance on her face. “What took you so long? Laney’s been asking for you for ages—Oh, Ms. Jones?” I gave her a small, polite nod. “Ms. Jones, please don’t misunderstand. Rhys has been so swamped with work, I just came over to make him some bone broth.” “I’m always forgetting the code, so Rhys changed it to my birthday. I’ll change it back right away.” But she didn’t move. The triumphant glimmer in her eyes was unmistakable. “Daddy!” A small figure launched itself at Rhys’s legs. Lana immediately clapped a hand over the girl’s mouth, looking distraught, as if I were a threat. “Laney, Mommy told you to call him Mr. Beaumont, remember?” Rhys looked over, thoroughly embarrassed. Seeing that Wren and I weren’t causing the scene we would have years ago, a flicker of surprise crossed his face. Wren’s room had a lot of new things. Lana bit her lower lip. “Laney sometimes sleeps here…” The tiny hand in my palm tightened. Wren whispered, “Mommy, I can sleep in a different room.” A sudden, dull ache squeezed my heart, a feeling I hadn’t expected. Before, when Rhys paid attention to Laney, Wren would throw a tantrum, crying, “Daddy is mine!” And every time, Rhys would snap at me for poor parenting. Now, she just stared quietly at the transformed room. Children are sensitive. She already understood that only the favored ones are allowed to act out. Rhys frowned. Lana quickly interjected, “I’ll take the things out. Ms. Jones, please don’t be mad at Laney or me—” The mother and daughter huddled together, trembling slightly, the picture of delicate victimhood. In the past, these kinds of passive-aggressive remarks would have instantly triggered me, leading to a huge fight with Rhys. Now, I just looked at them, saying nothing. Rhys suddenly spoke. “Lana, don’t come in and out of my house so casually anymore. As a single mother, you need to protect your reputation.” As they finished gathering their things, Laney said tearfully, “Daddy, Laney wants you to take us home.” Rhys hesitated, looking toward me. I smiled. “You and Ms. Bellweather have known each other for years, Rhys. Of course you should take them.” He opened his mouth to say something, but I turned and walked to the kitchen to boil some water. Before he left, Rhys rushed back in. “Wait for me. When I get back, we need to have a real talk.” It wasn’t until they were completely gone that Wren and I finally let the air out of our lungs. A moment later, my phone pinged. Lana Bellweather: [I’m so sorry, Ms. Jones. Laney is used to Rhys watching her animated movie with her. He’ll be home a little later.] 2 That familiar, apologetic tone. I smiled faintly and sent a brief reply: [Okay.] Rhys didn’t come home until the next day. I was reading Wren her pre-nap story. I didn’t ask any questions. Throwing a tantrum or getting jealous, like I used to, would only make him resent me and, worse, reflect badly on Wren. After Wren fell asleep, Rhys handed me a small box. Inside was a black diamond necklace—the one I had always wanted but was outbid on at an auction years ago. If this had happened before, I would have joyfully jumped up and wrapped my arms around him. Now, I felt absolutely nothing. I used to love jewelry. But after we moved to the city village, a thief tried to snatch my necklace, pulling me down a flight of concrete stairs. I ended up with a concussion and a bloody mess. Since then, I realized these things were nothing but vanity, and potentially deadly. Not getting the ecstatic reaction he expected, Rhys shifted uncomfortably. “Let me put it on you.” I smiled and stepped back. “Thank you, but I don’t wear jewelry anymore.” He froze. I went to the kitchen to cut some fruit. When I came back, Rhys was gone. In the afternoon, I took Wren out. For two years, I had barely scraped by, and Wren often wore the landlord’s daughter’s hand-me-downs. Now, I could finally buy her clothes that fit. As we entered the children’s boutique, we ran into Lana and Laney. And Rhys. The saleswoman was effusive, presenting them with a garment. “Mr. Beaumont, Mrs. Beaumont, these are the new arrivals from yesterday. They would look gorgeous on Princess Laney.” Laney shouted, “I want this one!” Rhys smiled and swiped his card. “Ma’am, can I help you?” Another sales associate approached me. I spoke softly. “I’d like to buy my child a couple of outfits she can wear right now.” Rhys and his group looked over. I pretended not to notice, taking Wren’s hand and walking further into the store. When we came out of the fitting room, Lana and Laney were gone. Rhys looked at me, his expression complex. “It’s Laney’s birthday today. I was just buying her a gift…” “I see. Well, send her my best.” I turned toward the confused saleswoman. “I’ll take both of these outfits, please.” As I moved toward the checkout, Rhys grabbed my arm. I quickly pulled my hand away. The saleswoman’s eyes flickered between us. “Ma’am, you and Mr. Beaumont…” I smiled easily. “We’re just acquaintances.” Clang! “Mr. Beaumont, your phone!” I turned back. Rhys was staring at me, his eyes wide. “What the hell are you saying?” I tilted my head, confused. “Aren’t you supposed to be celebrating her birthday with them?” He just glared, his chest heaving, but said nothing. I didn’t understand, but I wasn’t going to provoke him. I took Wren’s hand and headed for the exit. Just outside the shop, Rhys grabbed me again. He asked in a low, heavy voice, “You’re just going to let them mistake our relationship like that?” I laughed, a short, dry sound. “Aren’t you the one who cares the most about Lana’s reputation?” Rhys was stumped, speechless for a moment. He finally managed, “You’re not like you used to be.” I used to start a fight over exactly this. Rhys would always be impatient. “Stop being hysterical. Lana is a single mother and it’s hard for her. If people think she’s Mrs. Beaumont, they won’t harass her.” But now, what was the point of fighting Lana for his attention? All I wanted was to raise Wren well and give her the comfortable life she deserved. I said calmly, “Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?” Rhys’s face went white with fury. He flung his hand away and left. I didn’t care. I took Wren for food and bought her a few more things. A life where I didn’t have to worry about the rent or the next meal. It almost felt like before the divorce. 3 After we first got married, I became a stay-at-home wife. Everyone envied me: a girl with a wealthy father, married to a self-made, brilliant young talent. I truly thought I would be happy forever. Until Lana got divorced. Rhys missed our first Valentine’s Day, claiming he was stuck working late. But when he finally got home, Lana showed up at our door to “deliver his forgotten tie.” I was confused. He just rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Lana works near the office. She just dropped it off on her way home.” I wanted to ask more, but his exhaustion seemed genuine, and I softened. I had an easy life at home. He was working so hard. It didn’t feel right to doubt him. I told myself that a marriage requires trust, and I shouldn’t be foolishly jealous. But then these instances kept piling up. On our anniversary, Rhys left me alone at the fancy restaurant to rescue Lana from a conflict with her landlord. During a sudden downpour, Wren and I were stranded at the preschool, while Rhys drove Lana and Laney home. Wren caught the flu and had a high fever. I couldn’t reach Rhys, so I took her to the emergency room alone. There, I saw him with an entire team of specialists attending to Laney’s scraped elbow. Every single time, Lana would preemptively text me. [I’m so sorry, Ms. Jones. Rhys didn’t want me living there anymore, so he set me up in one of his apartments.] [I’m so sorry, Ms. Jones. It was all my fault for feeling dizzy. Rhys will be on his way to pick you up as soon as he drops me off.] [I’m so sorry, Ms. Jones. Rhys is just overly concerned about Laney. I’ll talk to him about it later.] I finally snapped. I kept questioning Rhys: who was his wife? Who was his daughter? At first, he would patiently explain. “We’ve known each other forever, Sera. I’m just helping her out.” But he grew impatient. “You have money, you don’t understand how hard it is for people from lower-income backgrounds. Can’t you show her some compassion?” “Lana is a single mother, struggling. Why do you insist on attacking her?” “Are you helpless? I have so much to do at work, do I really need to revolve my life around you two?” “If you can’t raise the child right, hire a new nanny! She’s acting like a bully at this age, she’s going to be impossible later on!” Wren and I stopped looking forward to his return. Because every time he walked through the door, the small warmth in our house was replaced by screaming matches. Wren grew quieter and quieter. Even her preschool teacher asked me if everything was okay at home. The moment I truly decided to divorce him was the day of Rhys’s company annual gala. He told me he was working late. I’d been constantly exhausted and sleepy lately, and completely forgot about the gala. Until I saw a post on social media. [The Henda Tech CEO and his First Lady are a perfect match. Such a movie-star couple.] The picture was Rhys and Lana standing side-by-side at the gala. I called Rhys five or six times, but no answer. The seventh call finally went through, but Lana’s voice answered. “Ms. Jones, Rhys is very busy right now. You can tell me whatever you need to, it’s the same thing.” I demanded she put Rhys on the phone. She gave a delicate laugh. “Ms. Jones, I’m Rhys’s executive assistant. He has no secrets from me, you know.” “Did you know that tonight, so many people have told me that I’m better suited to be Mrs. Beaumont?” My body was trembling. I hung up the phone and, still in my slippers, bolted for the gala venue. 4 Lana had her arms wrapped around Rhys’s waist, leaning fully into his embrace. I tore them apart in a rage, glaring at Rhys. “This is your working late? Hugging and cozying up with her is work?” Lana rushed over to grab me. “Ms. Jones, I was drinking. Please don’t misunderstand—” I violently shook her hand off and glared at her. “Don’t touch me, you home-wrecker!” My push wasn’t strong, but she cried out dramatically and dropped to the floor. “Seraphina Jones! What is wrong with you?” Rhys roughly shoved me aside, rushing to help Lana up, checking her for injuries with agonizing care. My lower back slammed against the corner of a table. The pain brought tears to my eyes. Lana, eyes red, fought back tears. “It’s all my fault. Please, don’t fight because of me…” Rhys quickly reassured her. “It has nothing to do with you, Lana. She’s being hysterical.” He turned back to me, his gaze cold, laced with pure disgust. “Seraphina Jones, I have told you countless times, her mother entrusted me with Lana’s care on her deathbed.” “Do you have any idea how hard it is for her to raise a child alone? How can you, a woman, be so malicious as to call her a mistress?” The look he gave me was icy, even showing a hint of revulsion. “My patience is limited. You need to stop this.” “Don’t make me regret marrying you.” The words caused a terrible ringing in my ears. I stared at Rhys, completely shattered. I wanted to scream: I’m your wife! How can you side with a stranger? I wanted to tell him: Lana baits me every time! Are you blind? I wanted to recount the gloating phone call. But a terrible blockage filled my throat. All I could manage was, “Then let’s get divorced.” The moment the words left my mouth, I felt a strange sense of freedom. I didn’t even care about the look of triumph on Lana’s face. Rhys was stunned, then gave a cold, dismissive laugh. “Seraphina, what else can you do but threaten divorce? Does your life consist of nothing but fighting for attention?” Then, he helped Lana away. I went home and sat in the living room until dawn. It wasn’t until Wren started wailing that I realized my legs were covered in blood. The second child, who had quietly arrived, had quietly left. A week later, Rhys and I divorced. I retained full custody of Wren. Not long after, my father’s company ran into trouble. Several key partnerships were maliciously snatched away. Within six months, we had to file for bankruptcy. The stress put my father in the hospital with a heart attack. He died after several attempts to save him. I used the remaining assets to pay the employees’ severance. The heiress became a single mother in a slum. Wren suffered terribly because of me. I woke up crying countless times, regretting that I had dragged her into this mess. This time, I wouldn’t waste a single breath fighting for Rhys’s affection. As long as Wren and I could have a secure, comfortable life, Rhys could find ten ‘Lanas,’ and I would look the other way. 5 Rhys never came back that night after leaving the boutique. Three days later, Wren started at her new school. I started setting up my online shop. My handmade pet clothes and small trinkets had sold well at the flea market. Many customers had suggested I start a proper shop. Back then, I worked as a server during the day and could only set up my stall at night. My output wasn’t high enough. Now, with a little money saved, I could finally launch it. In my previous marriage, I always had a spare room for my sewing projects. I converted it into a home studio and bought equipment for live craft streaming. Rhys came home just as I was having dinner. He walked to the kitchen and looked around. “You didn’t make any for me?” I blinked. “I assumed you wouldn’t be home.” He was momentarily speechless. I quickly headed for the kitchen. “I’ll make some right now. Just wait a minute.” As I washed vegetables, I remembered—no matter when he came home, I always had a hot meal waiting. Even if it went uneaten and had to be thrown out. But today, I honestly forgot. I sighed. I’d have to remember next time. Dinner was silent again. After a long time, Rhys spoke. “The company had an issue with a project this week. I was staying in the office.” “Oh.” I thought for a moment and added, “That must be tiring. I’ll run you a hot bath.” He looked at me in silence for a while, then suddenly rubbed his face. His voice was faint. “You haven’t called me, not even once, this whole time.” I used to constantly share my life with him. I’d send dozens of texts a day—even though he rarely replied—because I was afraid to bother him with a call. But now, I was no longer the Seraphina who lived solely for him. “I didn’t want to disrupt your work.” Rhys stared at me, his voice carrying an unclear meaning. “What do you think I’m doing? Something you could disrupt?” I just smiled. “Whatever you’re doing, it’s not my place to interrupt.” The air filled with silence again. I started clearing the table and heading to the kitchen. Rhys followed. “There are a lot of delivery boxes outside. What did you buy?” I hesitated for a moment, then told the truth. “I started an online shop. Those are my supplies.” He nodded, saying nothing. A moment later, a text popped up. He had transferred a large sum of money to my account. “Thank you.” Rhys paused as he reached for the fruit bowl. “We’re married, Sera. My money is yours. Don’t be so formal.” I smiled and remained silent. Rhys’s phone rang. The screen showed Lana’s name. He glanced at me and answered right in front of me. I wasn’t interested. I wisely walked to the balcony to collect the laundry. “Lana has an issue…” I handed him his jacket. “You should go quickly.” He looked at me intently. “I’ll be back soon.” Rhys had only been gone for a few minutes when the preschool teacher called. “Wren’s mother, Wren fell off the slide.” I rushed to the hospital. The teacher explained as she led me toward the room. “Wren had a disagreement with another child…” As she finished, we reached the emergency room door. The other child’s parent was also being led in. It was Lana. And Rhys.

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My mother and I shared a pure, unadulterated hate. She was one of the nation’s top cardiac surgeons, yet she’d ignored my debilitating heart condition for eighteen years. My father, to care for his sickly, fragile daughter, had sacrificed his career, his potential. He’d groveled for access to the specialized medication I needed—pills that cost thousands of dollars apiece. He’d always told me my mother saw nothing but her scalpel; we didn’t exist to her. I loathed her. It wasn’t until a sudden accident that my mother saw my latest medical chart. She pointed at the data, her eyes terrifyingly calm. “I transfer three million a year to your father for medical expenses. This is how he’s been treating you?” 1 “Ave, easy sips. Your mood seems stable today, and your heart rate is steady.” My father, Dean, gently held a glass of warm water to my lips. With his other hand, he held a small, unmarked white pill bottle, shaking two tablets into his palm. These pills were pure white, no label, no markings. I had been taking them since I was small. Dad always said they were cutting-edge medication Mom had pulled strings to get from Europe—thousands of dollars a pill—the only thing keeping my pulse stable. I obediently opened my mouth, swallowing the tablets with the water. “Dad, is Aunt Carol coming over today?” “She is, sweetie. She made that special organic bone broth you like so much. To keep your strength up.” As he spoke, he expertly pulled out the digital blood pressure monitor, checking my heart rate and blood pressure, carefully logging the numbers in a ledger. The sheer volume of those books—dozens, tightly filled—represented my entire life. My “Continuation Archive.” The doorbell rang. Aunt Carol swept in carrying a massive insulated container. She was loud and dramatic from the moment she crossed the threshold. “Oh, my God, Avery, you still look like a ghost! Dean, are you looking after her at all?” She pushed Dad aside and pressed the back of her hand to my forehead. “Has that woman, Eleanor, been calling to upset you again? I told you, she’s a curse! All she knows how to do is rake in dirty money. What else is she good for?” Dad sighed, the familiar look of exhaustion and defeat clouding his face. “Carol, please. She’s still Avery’s mother.” “Mother? She wouldn’t know how!” Aunt Carol’s voice pitched eight octaves higher. “She barely comes home, and when she calls, what does she ask? Only if Avery is dead yet! That’s all she cares about!” “Poor Avery, stuck with a mother like that! And poor you, Dean, throwing away a brilliant career just to be here for her!” Every one of Aunt Carol’s words landed like a needle in my heart. I lowered my gaze to my own pale, fragile fingers. She was right. Dad should have been a high-powered, brilliant engineer. He was a promising graduate from a top university. But I was his liability, his drug-dependent patient, the reason he couldn’t work. And my mother, Dr. Eleanor Roth? She simply used money to buy her absence. Cold numbers were the extent of her maternal love. 2 Getting into college was the result of a long, brutal fight waged by my father. The whole family had opposed it, terrified I would literally die on campus. But Dad insisted: “I can’t let this child live a life full of regret.” In the end, he won, personally driving me through the university gates. On the very first day, the counselor received a massive stack of my medical records and specifically instructed the whole class to be cautious and accommodating with me. I was exempt from physical education, couldn’t join any clubs that required activity, and certainly couldn’t live in the collective dorms. Dad rented an apartment right off-campus. He drove me everywhere, made all my meals, and supervised every single pill I took. I was separated from the vibrant, bustling campus by an invisible, impenetrable wall. My peers would meet up for late-night pizza runs and parties; I was stuck in the apartment, sipping the bland, oil-free broth Dad insisted on. They were sweating on the sports field; I watched from the window, knowing that even a brisk walk downstairs was an absolute luxury. My phone vibrated. “Eleanor Roth” flashed on the screen. I handed the phone to my father. I never answered her calls. He stepped onto the balcony, lowering his voice, but I could still catch fragments of the conversation. “…situation is the same…” “…The new medication? Yes, still taking it. It’s helping…” “…The funds? I understand. Just transfer them on time.” He hung up a few minutes later, his face grim. “Your mother yelled at me again,” he said, his eyes red-rimmed. “She said I wasn’t taking proper care of you. She said I was intentionally dragging this out just to extort more money from her.” “Avery, I am so sorry. I’ve failed you. It’s my fault you have to endure your mother’s abuse.” A sharp, familiar pain seized my chest. “No, Dad, don’t say that! It’s my fault!” If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be humiliated like this. That woman. How dare she? How dare she use her money to trample on my father’s dignity? In my sophomore year, the university invited an accomplished alum to give a lecture. It was Eleanor Roth. The day the poster went up, the entire campus went wild. “Oh my God, it’s Eleanor Roth! The legendary ‘First Blade of Cardiac Surgery’!” “I heard her surgical appointments are booked out for the next three years!” “She’s my idol! I have to go!” I stared at the poster—a woman in a crisp white coat, her expression cool and aloof—and my stomach lurched. I wanted to run and hide. But the counselor personally called my dad. Attendance was mandatory for all students. Dad had no choice but to drop me off at the auditorium entrance. “Don’t worry, Ave. Dad will be right outside waiting. Text me immediately if you feel unwell.” He looked terrified. I nodded and found the most isolated seat in the back corner of the packed hall. Eleanor, wearing a perfectly tailored business suit, stood on stage, calmly sharing the latest medical breakthroughs. Every case she discussed was harrowing, every life she saved a miracle. The audience erupted in applause. I felt like I was suffocating. Halfway through the lecture, an accident occurred. A stagehand collapsed without warning, convulsing and foaming at the mouth. Chaos erupted. Screams and shouts mixed into a loud panic. Eleanor reacted in a split second. She jumped off the stage and rushed over. “Step back! I’m a doctor!” Her voice carried an undeniable, commanding authority. The crowd parted instantly. She knelt, assessed the condition, unbuttoned the man’s shirt collar, and started CPR. One pump, two, three. Her movements were precise, calm, and incredibly efficient. The metallic smell of blood, the antiseptic scent of the auditorium, the sudden rush of noise—the gasps of students, the teachers directing traffic—all drilled into my ears like an oppressive roar. My heart began to beat wildly, beyond my control. My breath hitched, and the edges of my vision started to go dark. “Avery, you must never be stressed. Your heart can’t take it…” Dad’s warning echoed in my ears. I clutched my chest, gasping for air, but the room felt suddenly void of oxygen. In the second before I lost consciousness, I saw Eleanor look up, her gaze sweeping right toward my corner of the auditorium. When I woke up, I was in a private hospital room. The familiar, sterile smell of antiseptic filled my nostrils. Eleanor was sitting by my bedside, holding a medical file. Her eyes were downcast, her expression unreadable. She was still in the same suit, but her jacket was off, revealing a white blouse. Her sleeves were rolled up, and a faint, dried bloodstain marred her forearm.

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Nate and I were childhood friends, practically inseparable since we were in diapers. His girlfriend hated it. They constantly fought because of me, playing out this endless drama of breaking up and getting back together, her running away and him chasing after her. It wasn’t until a group dinner that she decided to call me out in front of everyone. “Chloe, how about I set you up with someone? You know, so you stop being the third wheel.” The room went dead silent. I glanced at the man sitting next to Nate—his best friend, Julian. Then I smiled and shook my head. “No thanks. I already have a boyfriend.” The next second, Nate’s face went dark. His hand clenched around his wine glass until it shattered. 1 Nate and Sarah got back together. Again. When I heard the news, I felt absolutely nothing. Penny was texting me the gossip with her usual enthusiasm: Penny: [They were broken up for a whole three months this time. A new record.] Penny: [Apparently Sarah ran off to Paris in a huff, and Nate actually flew out there to win her back.] Penny: [Two years, five breakups. Do they ever get tired?] I laughed but didn’t reply. Penny: [Bet you anything Nate’s gonna be blowing up the group chat about a celebratory dinner…] Penny: [You going?] I sent a sticker of a cat saying “No way.” Me: [Pass. I have to practice. The concerto competition is next month.] Penny: [Fair enough. I’m going though. Gotta see the train wreck in person. I’ll report back with tea.] Me: [Deal. Good luck.] I put my phone down and picked up my violin. About thirty minutes later, I checked my phone again. Penny had sent another message. She seemed hesitant this time. Penny: [By the way… do you know why they broke up last time?] Me: [No clue.] Penny replied instantly. Penny: [Rumor has it… Sarah found out Nate’s phone passcode. It was your birthday.] 2 On Friday, the dormant group chat exploded. Just as predicted, Nate announced that he and Sarah were back together and he was treating everyone to dinner at our usual spot, The Rusty Anchor. The responses were a mix of congratulations and roasting. [Congrats, bro. Again.] [Nate, you’re slipping. Took you way too long this time!] [Is there a punch card for these ‘back together’ dinners? Do we get a free sub eventually?] … I was typing out an excuse to decline when Sarah tagged me directly. Sarah: [@Chloe You have to come!] Me: [Sorry, I’m really busy with rehearsals.] Sarah: [Oh come on, it’s just dinner!] Sarah: [I know I’ve misunderstood your relationship with Nate in the past, and I probably made things awkward for you.] Sarah: [I just want to apologize in person. Please?] The chat went dead silent. No one typed a thing. I gripped my phone, annoyance bubbling up in my chest. After a moment, I typed: [Fine. See you there.] 3 By the time I arrived, the private room was already buzzing. When I pushed the door open, the chatter stopped for a second. Nate was sitting at the head of the table. When he saw me, the tension in his forehead visibly relaxed. “Took you long enough,” he said, patting the empty chair next to him. “Sit here.” Sarah’s smile faltered for a microsecond, but she recovered quickly, looping her arm through Nate’s in a clear possessive gesture. “Chloe! You made it! We were waiting for you.” “Sorry, traffic was a nightmare.” Nate’s eyes were glued to me as I spoke. I ignored him and walked straight past the empty seat to the corner where Penny was waving frantically. As soon as I sat down, Sarah walked over with a glass of wine. “Chloe, I’m so glad you came. “I know I used to get jealous and misunderstand things between you and Nate. I made a scene more than once, and frankly, it was embarrassing. “I’m sure it was annoying for you too. So, I wanted to say sorry. I hope you don’t hold it against me.” She stood over me, looking down with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “But don’t worry, it won’t happen again! “Nate promised me. He explained that even though you guys grew up together, he just sees you as a little sister. That’s all it is—brotherly concern. “And you used to follow him around everywhere because you saw him as a big brother too, right?” The room went quiet again. Everyone was suddenly very interested in their silverware or napkins. Nate was staring at me, waiting for my answer. Penny rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to snap back, but I put a hand on her arm to stop her. I picked up the wine glass in front of me, stood up, and looked Sarah dead in the eye. “I’m glad we cleared that up. Apology accepted,” I said with a polite smile. “Nate’s right. We’re just neighbors. Don’t waste energy misunderstanding him anymore. It’s bad for the relationship.” I raised my glass to her. “Cheers. Wishing you guys a lifetime of happiness.” I downed the drink. Thud. Nate slammed his glass onto the table, his face cold. He looked annoyed, but he kept his voice controlled. “You can’t handle alcohol. Put it down.” Sarah’s face went pale. Her knuckles turned white around the stem of her glass. Because Nate wasn’t talking to her. He was talking to me. 4 I met Nate when we were eight. Our families lived next door. In elementary school, I started learning the violin. Nate would stand in his yard covering his ears, yelling, “Chloe! Are you killing a cat in there?” In middle school, he tutored me in math, tapping my forehead with his pen when I zoned out. “Chloe, focus! Are you trying to fail?” In high school, I tripped during track and field. He carried me to the nurse’s office on his back, his voice shaking. “Chloe, does it hurt? Say something!” And when my parents died in a car accident my junior year, he held my hand at the funeral, telling me over and over, “Chloe, don’t be scared. I’m here. I’ll always be here.” We were the childhood sweethearts everyone rooted for. We were in every chapter of each other’s lives. I thought he meant it when he said he’d always be there. Until Sarah joined our orchestra class. Nate started talking about her constantly. He said, “Chloe, don’t you think Sarah looks a little like you?” “How?” “She plays the violin just as badly as you used to.” He said, “Chloe, Sarah’s pretty cool. Can you get her number for me?” Then he said, “Chloe, Sarah and I are dating.” …

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After recovering his memories and resuming his life as the scion of an Old Money dynasty, everyone assumed Julian Sterling would divorce me. Now, a single cufflink on his wrist is worth millions. And I, holding our daughter’s hand, am just the “shampoo girl from the trailer park” in the eyes of his elite friends. We look like we belong to different species. But the man looked at me with indifferent eyes and said only, “Stay by my side.” I thought our marriage still counted. I thought I was still his lawful wife. Later, news of his engagement to an heiress spread through the entire Upper East Side. As for me, he said with certainty: “Nora is still here. She won’t leave.” I simply smoothed the hem of my dress and went to his mother: “I want to leave.” Later, I went south alone. I didn’t take the child. I didn’t take him. 1 “Mommy, is Daddy going to marry someone else?” When Sunny asked this, the spoon in my hand clinked against the porcelain bowl. I turned around to meet her innocent, confused eyes, filled with layers of grievance. I stroked her hair, instinctively forcing a laugh. “How could Daddy marry someone else? Where did you hear such nonsense?” She picked at her fingers, her small mouth trembling. “Ms. Higgins said it. She also said… Sunny is a bastard child. Mommy, what is a bastard child?” A child’s voice is crisp and sweet, but those words hit my chest like a sledgehammer. I didn’t have time to think. I just hugged her tight, comforting her, but mostly trying to keep myself sane. “Sunny will always be Daddy and Mommy’s treasure. Ms. Higgins is just… sick lately.” I tapped her nose with a smile. “You know how people get confused when they’re sick, right?” She pursed her lips and smiled a little, scrunching her nose. “Confused heads talk nonsense.” I smiled back. “Exactly. You’re so smart.” The little girl hugged her stuffed rabbit and rested her head on my hand. “Mommy, don’t be sad.” My palm burned. My eyes stung. It took everything I had not to cry at her clumsy attempt to comfort me. I stared at her, my gaze moving from her face to the stuffed rabbit in her arms. The rabbit was grey and plain, with droopy ears. It looked like nothing special, but it cost $12,000. She had a room full of toys like this. Who would have thought that a year ago, the best we could give her was a $10 toy from Walmart? The room was carpeted with plush wool, silencing my footsteps. I no longer needed to tiptoe out of her room like I used to in our thin-walled trailer. Ms. Higgins was the nanny Julian brought from the Sterling estate to take care of us. I always knew she didn’t like me or Sunny. Later, I found out she had a daughter who had been in love with Julian for years. The villa’s security cameras were high-definition. I heard every word clearly: “The mother has no title, no ring. If the kid isn’t a bastard, what is she?” I looked down, clenching my fists until my nails dug into my palms. 2 The day Julian suddenly recovered his memory, he got into a car accident. When I rushed to the hospital with Sunny, he was sitting up in bed. Hearing us, he turned his head slowly. He was still wearing the faded clothes he left the house in that morning, but his eyes were so unfamiliar that I froze. Before, whenever Sunny called him “Daddy,” no matter what he was doing, he would squat down to answer her. But that day, Sunny’s voice grew quieter with each call. It wasn’t until the seventh time that he gave a faint acknowledgment. I was terrified by his strangeness, but also relieved he was alive. In a person’s life, no matter how much love a newcomer gives, the soul always seeks its origin. Only then is one complete. I just didn’t know then that between him and me, between his world and our trailer park, lay a canyon a thousand miles wide. I thought about it countless times. If fate hadn’t played a trick, our lives wouldn’t have crossed for generations. When the Sterling family came to pick him up, they were swift and discreet. They didn’t even alert the neighbors. Even with my limited understanding of the world, I knew in that moment: I couldn’t stop him from leaving. And once he left, we would never meet again. I looked at our empty, unfinished house. The money we saved over the years was only enough for the frame. The walls were bare concrete. We needed to save for a few more years to finish it. We always said Sunny was still small; we could finish it later. In the chaos of my thoughts, I made a rational decision. I reached out to him. “You can go. But for saving your life, for our time as husband and wife, and for your duty as a father, you should give me a sum of money. I need to raise Sunny.” I couldn’t keep him, but logic dictated I should keep what I could. Under the dim light of a naked bulb hanging from a wire, Julian looked at my outstretched hand for a long time. No one knew what he was thinking. I only remember him grabbing my cold hand, his voice lazy and detached. “What are you thinking? You and Sunny are coming back with me.” So that day, a black SUV drove straight onto a private ferry, leaving the island. Until we boarded the private jet, no one knew who was inside. Maybe I was too greedy, using the excuse of giving Sunny a complete family to step into a completely alien world. Everyone thought Julian brought me back just for show, that we would divorce soon. But for a year, no matter how busy or late, he came back to this villa. Earlier, I heard him come in. I needed to discuss Sunny with Julian. He needed to handle this. We had a marriage license, a wedding. Sunny was born of love and expectation. She was never a bastard. Julian promised that once things settled, we would register our marriage under his real identity. If he knew Sunny was being called names, he would be furious. Walking down the stairs, I rehearsed my words, trying to be tactful. The villa was so big it felt empty. I checked a few rooms but didn’t see him. At the turn of the stairs, a voice came from a slightly ajar door. 3 “Julian, the Madam says you’ve picked a date for the engagement?” Engagement? I thought I was hearing things. The word “engagement” and Julian didn’t belong in the same sentence. He had a child. He had a wife. How could he get engaged to someone else? Through the crack, I saw a man in a bespoke suit, looking impatient as he loosened his tie. His cufflinks gleamed under the light. “My mother told you?” He lit a cigarette, smoke curling around his sharp nose. “Stop prying. And keep your mouth shut in this house.” “Everyone knows, Julian. I didn’t need to ask your mother. I’m happy for you. Marrying the heiress of the Vanderbilt family is the right path.” “Your father let that illegitimate brother of yours into the house while you were gone. He almost took your place.” “You are the legitimate heir. A legitimate marriage should be with a proper family.” “It’s just… that Miss Ning. How do you plan to settle her? Send her back to the countryside?” Julian glanced at her. “Are you joking? She doesn’t need to leave. And she won’t. Sunny is here. Where would she go?” The old nanny laughed. “True. Just keep her as a mistress. It doesn’t matter.” From my corner, I clearly saw the indifference in his eyes. Power and privilege truly reshape a person’s soul. In the past, his eyes never held this cold, god-like detachment. He used to stand awkwardly in front of a flower stall, smiling humbly, haggling patiently for a bouquet I liked. It wasn’t until this moment that I truly woke up. The man named Nathan, my husband, died the moment he became Julian Sterling again. I clutched my phone, my heart a hollow cavity. I desperately needed something to fill the void. I looked around, suddenly desperate to see my daughter. I quickened my steps, shutting out the voices from that room. “And,” he stubbed out the cigarette, “how many times do I have to say it? Call her by her name or Mrs. Sterling. What is this ‘Miss Ning’ nonsense?” “The food on the table, did she not touch a bite?” I hadn’t eaten. She deliberately didn’t clear the table. “She’s hard to serve. Why don’t you eat some? It’s all your favorites.” “Ms. Higgins, you better remember why I let you in here. It’s been a year, and you still don’t know she’s allergic to eggs? If you can’t do simple things, go back to the estate. Plenty of people can do your job.” Julian rarely lost his temper with her. She had been with his mother for decades. A man born into privilege, after years of hardship, had lost his temper but learned to treat everyone with polished grace. Seeing her bow apologetically, he offered no comfort. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey and walked out. 4 I pushed open the door to Sunny’s room. Seeing her sleeping face, my breathing slowed. If anything had kept me from collapsing under the gossip this past year, it was her. From a barren village to the neon metropolis, the world had opened a new door for me. Behind this heavy door lay a dazzling world I had never touched and was destined never to belong to. For a year, I was lost in a fog, thinking true love conquered prejudice, that life would be brilliant forever. But now, I needed to think. A warm hand touched mine. I looked down. The sleeping girl was frowning, gripping my hand tight. I wiped my tears, took a deep breath, straightened my back, and held her small hand. “Don’t be afraid. Mommy is here.” “Why aren’t you asleep?” A slightly hoarse voice came from behind, accompanied by the scent of whiskey. I didn’t turn around. I tucked the blanket in. “Julian, when are we going to get our marriage license?” It wasn’t a conversation for a bedroom. We walked down the hall to his study. I crossed my arms, keeping a distance, adopting a negotiating stance. He glanced at me. Perhaps he didn’t care, so he didn’t question my sudden seriousness. He chuckled lightly, taking off his watch, his posture relaxed. “The books I gave you, did you finish them?” How did I not see this obvious evasion before? It was different. It was all different. Julian was just Julian. I turned away, silent. When he made that decision to engage, he knew how helpless I would feel. But now, he ignored that helplessness. I looked at the desk on the left. It was piled high with books—art appreciation, economics, management theory. For the past year, he had been like a farmer forcing a crop to grow, trying to transform me overnight. I thought it was because I embarrassed him. But he never hid me. He introduced me to his friends openly. But I had nothing to talk about with them. They talked about stocks, global economics, tariffs, billion-dollar deals. So when I came back from the restroom and heard them call me the “shampoo girl from the trailer park,” I couldn’t find a reason to be sad. I never mentioned it to Julian. I learned etiquette quickly. Even if I didn’t, people wouldn’t dare embarrass me to my face because of him. When he first told me to take the SATs and go to college, I thought it was absurd. I was anxious to prove something. “College is for getting a job to make money. I can make money.” “Degrees don’t make billionaires. I don’t think skipping college stops me from earning.” “Remember when I met you? I owed five grand. In a few years, I paid it back, built a house, and opened two salons.” “I’m good at making money. My salon is still number one in town…” Under Julian’s helpless gaze, my voice trailed off. I smiled lonely. “I forgot. Your family doesn’t need money.” He said casually, “Just study. If you get in, we’ll get the license.” I looked at him seriously. “Really? If I get in, will your mother like me?” He paused, silent for a moment. “She will.” I had good grades in high school. If not for bad luck, college would have been easy. When I got the acceptance letter, Julian donated a building to the university, as was the Sterling custom. I was supposed to start in September. But now… I looked at Julian. Under the lamp, he was flipping through my notes.

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