Category: English

Everyone who knows Damian Cross knows he treated me like a princess. I once casually mentioned I wanted a star, and the next day, there was a certificate on my nightstand naming a celestial body “Sloane.” Everyone thought he was hopelessly in love with me. I almost believed it myself. Until one day, I overheard him talking to his friends. “In love with Sloane? Don’t make me laugh. She’s just a placeholder. A pastime to keep me entertained until Audrey gets back from Paris. Now that she’s returning, it’s time to cut Sloane loose.” Hearing Damian’s words didn’t break my heart. Actually, I let out a sigh of relief. Sleeping with the same man for two months is like eating the same meal every night. I was starving for something new. I immediately turned around and gifted the ten-thousand-dollar “breakup watch” I’d bought him to a gorgeous, obedient college student who knows exactly how to call me “Ma’am.” 1 It was eleven at night when I got back to Damian’s penthouse. I kicked off my heels in the foyer and realized, a beat too late, that the living room wasn’t empty. Damian was sitting in the dark on the leather sofa. He radiated an aura of “don’t mess with me.” His side profile was undeniably perfect. Sharp jawline, brooding eyes. That’s what attracted me in the first place. It’s just a shame… Even filet mignon gets boring if you have it every day. Thinking about how he planned to dump me made me hum a little tune. I walked past him, unbothered. He finally spoke, his voice low and laced with suppressed anger. “Where were you?” “Drinks with a friend.” I finally noticed the dining table. The plating was exquisite, but the steak was stone cold. The tapered candles had burned down to awkward nubs. Rose petals were scattered across the mahogany, looking wilting and sad. I raised an eyebrow. “You did this?” His eyes were dark with possessiveness. “Why didn’t you text back? Who were you with for this long?” I glanced at my phone. I remembered chatting with Leo, the young guy I’d met. My phone had been blowing up with notifications, so I’d checked it. Leo had looked up at me with those big, puppy-dog eyes, his voice dripping with playful jealousy. “You’re so busy, Sloane. I finally get a moment with you, and you’re talking to someone else? If you’re busy, it’s okay… I’m just happy to sit next to you.” He was handsome, young, and sweet. How could I not be charmed? So, I silenced my phone. Which meant I missed Damian’s texts telling me to come home early. I’d left him waiting all night. “Sorry,” I said, sounding sincere enough. “Something important came up.” Suddenly, rows of floating text appeared in the air in front of me. It was The Commentary. The toxic peanut gallery of the universe. [So the heroine’s ‘important business’ is cheating? Disgusting.] [What kind of romance heroine stays out until midnight? She should be waiting at home!] [She needs to learn her place. She only matters because the hero chose her!] [If a man stays out late, it’s business. If a woman does it, she’s loose. She deserves whatever happens to her.] [The hero cooked for the first time! He burned his hand for her! And she’s out flirting?] [She deserves it when he goes back to his true love, Audrey. She needs to be humbled.] I rolled my eyes at the invisible text. The double standards were exhausting. “Something important” meant networking. And Leo. Technically, we hadn’t done anything but talk. Yet. 2 Still, I felt a twinge of guilt about the wasted steak. “You haven’t eaten, right? Should I… order you a pizza?” “No,” Damian said coldly. I nodded and headed for the shower. “I’ll have my assistant book you a hotel tomorrow,” Damian said to my back. “You’re moving out.” I turned around, crossing my arms. “Is this the breakup?” I was about to say, Great, deal, when he cut me off. His gaze raked over me. “Were we ever really together?” I mentally kicked myself. Damn it. I should have used that line first. Imagine how satisfying that would have been. Damian saw the annoyance on my face and misinterpreted it as pain. The corner of his mouth twitched upward. His mood instantly lifted. “I have other properties,” he said casually. “You can pick one. If I have time… I might visit.” [See? He still loves her. He can’t let her go.] The Commentary floated by. I saw it for what it was. He wanted to keep me as a side piece while he pursued his “White Moonlight,” Audrey. I’m the heiress to a fortune. I don’t do “side piece.” “No thanks,” I said. “I can afford a hotel.” “Oh, right.” I walked over to the sofa, grabbed my bag, and pulled out a stack of cash. Ten grand. I threw it onto the coffee table. “Consider this rent for the last two months. I don’t want you to feel used. I’ll stay tonight since it’s late, but I’m gone in the morning.” He frowned, disbelief written all over his face. “You’re treating my home like a motel?” I yawned, covering my mouth. “Isn’t it?” I turned to leave, but he grabbed my wrist. His eyes were intense. “Then who is your home, Sloane?” I ripped my hand away. “None of your business. You’re the one ending things. What, are you gonna miss me now?” His pupils constricted. He looked at me like I was radioactive. “Of course not.” “Good,” I smirked. “We were just having fun. It would be embarrassing if one of us caught feelings.” Damian’s face turned black. “Whoever catches feelings is a dog.” I went to the bedroom to grab my pajamas. The room was set up for seduction. Scented candles, fresh roses, and a box of strawberry condoms on the nightstand. A single rose petal had fallen right on the box. I suddenly felt nauseous. Thank god I stood him up. Eating the same meat every day really does ruin your appetite. The next morning, I checked into the Four Seasons. My phone buzzed. Damian: Where are you? I replied: Moved out. Thanks for the hospitality. Damian: Did you forget something? [She’s playing hard to get! He’s hooked!] The Commentary cheered. [She forgot her heart! She forgot HIM!] I thought for a second. Actually, I did. I Venmo’d him $500. Forgot to pay for last night’s stay. Thanks. Damian: You are unbelievable. Men are so contradictory. He wanted to break up, but now he’s mad I’m gone. 3 I saw Damian again a week later at a private charity auction. I brought Leo. And I gave him a title. Since we’d crossed the line from friends to lovers, Leo had been insatiable. Between breathless moments, he’d bite my ear and whisper, “Sloane, you have my body now. Give me a title. Call me your boyfriend.” I was weak for him. So, there we were. And there was Damian, with Audrey, his “White Moonlight” who had just returned from France. Audrey was beautiful—elegant, poised, classic. We sat in the front row. Damian and Audrey sat directly behind us. Leo interlaced his fingers with mine. I felt a burning gaze boring into the back of my hand. A friend of Leo’s walked by and laughed. “Leo, you player. Your ex is staring daggers at you. Did you hire someone to make her jealous?” The burning gaze vanished. I heard Damian scoff behind me. I ignored him. The auction was boring until a vintage, limited-edition Patek Philippe watch came up. “That watch looks nice,” Audrey whispered. “If you like it, it’s yours,” Damian declared. A few days ago, I had been looking at the auction catalog on Damian’s couch. He had asked what I liked. “Just the watch,” I’d said. He knew. He was doing this on purpose. But I hadn’t told him why I liked it. The moment I saw it, I knew it would look perfect on Leo’s strong, veiny wrist. 4 The bidding started at $100,000. I waited until the crowd thinned out. “Two hundred and fifty thousand,” I said, raising my paddle. “Two hundred and thirty thousand,” Damian said simultaneously. [Why is she bidding against him? It makes him look bad!] [She’s just jealous. She doesn’t want him buying it for Audrey.] [She’s wasting money to get his attention. Pathetic.] “Three hundred thousand,” Damian drawled. “Three hundred thousand and one dollar,” I countered. “Three fifty.” “Three fifty… and one dollar.” By the time we hit six hundred thousand, it was just the two of us. Damian’s friend leaned over. “Dude, just ask her for it. She’ll give it to you.” Damian apparently believed this delusion. I won the watch for $650,001. When the staff brought it over, Damian spoke up, cool and arrogant. “Audrey really likes that watch, Sloane. Let her have it.” [She has to give it up! He asked!] I laughed. Loudly. “You’re generous with other people’s property, Damian. If you like giving things away so much, why don’t you give me your CEO position?” I turned to Audrey. “Ms. Wu, be careful. A man who gives up on things you like this easily… isn’t reliable.” Damian looked ready to explode. I turned to Leo and handed him the box. “For you.” I smiled. “I saw it in the catalog and knew it belonged on your wrist.” Leo beamed. “Put it on for me?” I obliged. As I fastened the clasp, I glanced back. Damian was gripping Audrey’s arm so hard his knuckles were white. “Ouch! Damian!” Audrey cried out. He snapped out of his trance. “Sorry. I… I was distracted.”

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I was reborn on the day my fiancée embezzled company funds to buy a lavish gift for her “first love.” In my past life, I bankrupted myself to fill the hole she dug. This time, I didn’t. Instead, I quietly handed the evidence over to the police. During the week she was held for investigation, I broke off our engagement and vanished from her world completely. In my previous life, I spent thirty years giving her everything. In return, she never smiled at me once. She accused me of trapping her into motherhood and tried to hurt our innocent daughter multiple times. When the earthquake hit, I held up a slab of concrete to save them, crushing myself in the process. After they were rescued, she stopped the emergency team from searching for me. My daughter, whom I cherished like a pearl for twenty years, called him “Dad.” “If you hadn’t used money to force Mom to marry you, our family would have been together years ago!” And my wife, Clara, threw herself into his arms, weeping tears of joy. “Finally. We can be together openly.” So, given a second chance, I decided to grant their wish. 1 “Caleb, do you have any cash right now? Can you transfer me $500,000? Consider it an advance on the wedding costs!” The familiar, frantic voice on the phone snapped me awake. In my last life, when I hesitated, Clara stole the money from her company accounts. When she got caught, she cried and begged me to save her. I couldn’t bear to see her go to prison so young. I emptied my savings, sold my assets, and even borrowed from loan sharks to pay it back. Only later did I find out she hadn’t taken the money for a family emergency. She took it to buy a luxury watch for her high school sweetheart, Travis, just to show off. This time, I wasn’t going to be the fool. I hung up the phone. Then, I called her company’s HR department and tipped them off about the missing funds. Sure enough, the next day, Clara was taken away by the police for embezzlement. A colleague at my office looked at me cautiously. “Caleb, I heard from the boss that if Clara pays back the money, they won’t press charges. She’s your fiancée… are you going to help her? If not, she’s looking at prison time.” I shook my head, my face a mask of regret. “I want to, but I’m powerless. Half a million isn’t a small amount. Even if I sold both my kidneys, I couldn’t come up with that much cash.” My colleague nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, that’s true.” After he left, memories of my past life flooded back. I had destroyed my financial future to save her. Her parents were so grateful they pushed up the wedding date. But Clara? She believed I had orchestrated the whole thing to force her into marriage. To get revenge, she carried on an affair with Travis behind my back for decades. She even had a daughter with him—a daughter I raised as my own, loved with all my heart. And that same daughter was the one who told the rescue workers to stop looking for me. She stood there and said, “He used money to separate my mom and dad. He’s the reason we couldn’t be a family. He deserves to die.” My beloved wife didn’t correct her. Instead, she joined in. “Caleb, if you hadn’t emotionally blackmailed me, I never would have married you. The only man I ever loved was Travis.” “I never forced you to help me back then. Even without you, Travis would have saved me.” “Do you know why I hated being close to you? Every touch made me sick. You stole thirty years of my life. Now, my daughter and I just want to be with Travis.” Then they walked away, arm in arm with him, a perfect, happy family. I lay under the rubble, filled with rage, despair, and grief, until my heart gave out before help arrived. Thank god fate gave me a do-over. This time, I absolutely would not lift a finger. I wasn’t going to be the doormat. I wanted to see if Travis would actually save her, like she claimed. 2 During the few days Clara was in detention, she tried to call me constantly. I ignored every call. So, she shamelessly contacted my parents. “Clara said she just made a mistake in judgment. She invested the money hoping to make a profit for your future together.” “Caleb, you’re going to be husband and wife. You need to share the burdens. If you can help, help her. Your dad and I have some savings…” I cut my mother off. “Mom, Clara is lying to you. She stole that money for another man.” I told her everything. My mother was silent for a long time. “But… we watched Clara grow up. Could there be a misunderstanding?” “No misunderstanding, Mom. Don’t worry about it.” After hanging up, I booked a month-long cruise for my parents. If they weren’t here, they wouldn’t be caught in the middle of this mess. I didn’t expect to see Clara again so soon. Apparently, she signed an agreement with her company promising to repay the funds within two weeks, so they temporarily dropped the charges. I ran into her at a mutual friend’s gathering. Everyone avoided the topic, but the looks they gave us were awkward. I didn’t care. But when I met Clara’s gaze, filled with pure hatred, a chill went down my spine. My gut told me: She was reborn, too. Just as the conversation picked up, the door to the private room was kicked open. Travis stormed in, glaring at me. “Caleb! Are you even a man? Your fiancée was locked up, and you didn’t even visit her!” “It’s a good thing you aren’t married yet, or you would have ruined her life!” I glanced at the furious man, then at Clara. Her eyes lit up when she saw him. The tenderness in her gaze was undeniable. In thirty years of marriage, she never looked at me like that. Sure, she would pretend when she needed something. Like when she begged me to let Travis stay in my rental property for free. Or when she asked for our savings to fund his “startup.” Or when she asked me to donate part of my liver to him. Her love for him was never hidden. I just chose not to see it. I thought if I was good enough to her, she would eventually love me back. I forgot that you can’t warm a heart made of stone. My silence infuriated Travis. He grabbed my collar. “Did you hear me?!” “Clara is your fiancée! Are you really going to watch her go to jail? Are you human?” The room started whispering. “Caleb usually seems so devoted. I can’t believe he vanished the second she got in trouble.” “Husband and wife are birds of a feather, but they fly apart when disaster strikes.” I finally understood why Travis was here. He and Clara were using public pressure to force me to pay. Unfortunately for them, the reborn Caleb didn’t give a damn about public opinion. I shoved Travis away. My voice was ice cold. “You seem a lot more worried than I am. Which makes sense, considering my fiancée embezzled that money to buy you a gift.” 3 The room went dead silent. Every eye turned to Clara and Travis. Clara’s face cycled through several colors. She looked at me with open disgust. “You knew.” I looked at her calmly. “If I didn’t know, were you planning to trick me into paying it back?” In my past life, I didn’t find out the truth until after the wedding. Travis had shown up at our new house, slipping a diamond ring onto Clara’s finger right in front of me. “Caleb, you don’t mind, do you? Since you technically paid for it.” That was when I learned her “investment” story was a lie. My parents and I had sold everything to pay for a ring for another man. When I confronted her, she said it was the price I had to pay for separating them. Fine. This time, I wish them a lifetime of togetherness. I thought exposing the truth would shut them up. Instead, Travis pointed a finger in my face. “Caleb, you’re scum!” “Clara only bought that stuff because you said you liked it! She wanted it for your wedding bands!” “Now that she’s in trouble, you’re trying to pin it on us to save yourself?” Clara looked at me with teary, accusatory eyes. I knew I never said I liked any ring. But our friends didn’t know that. Their gazes shifted. “Caleb always seemed like a nice guy… I can’t believe he’s this shady.” “Poor Clara. Stuck with a guy like that.” “Clara, we’ve known you for years. We believe you.” “Break up with him, girl. He’s trash.” Everyone was comforting her. Clara thanked them, sobbing. In that moment, I was the villain. The betrayer. The scumbag. But in my last life, I cherished her for thirty years. What did I do wrong? Why did I deserve that ending? I collected myself. I ignored their performance. Real friends wouldn’t doubt me based on a few lies. The ones who did weren’t worth keeping. Seeing I wasn’t cracking, Travis got desperate. As I lifted my glass of juice, he slapped it out of my hand. It shattered on the floor. “Caleb! You ruined Clara’s life, and you’re sitting here drinking juice?!” I was tired. I looked up at him. “Clara stole money for you. The auction items went to you. How did I ruin her?” Travis sneered. “If you didn’t want the rings, we never would have gone to the auction!” “And those items are in your house, not mine!” “You claim you love her, but you’re throwing her to the wolves. Aren’t you afraid of karma?” Clara stood up and slapped me. Hard. “Caleb, I am so disappointed in you. The engagement is off!” Her friends jumped in. “Breaking up isn’t enough, Caleb. You caused this mess, you have to fix it.” “Yeah, if the items are yours, how can you let a woman pay for them? Don’t be a leech.” “If she goes to jail, how will you live with yourself?” I ran my tongue over my stinging cheek. I looked up and met Clara’s triumphant gaze. She thought having a crowd meant she won? I turned on the TV in the room and connected my phone. A video started playing. It was security footage from the auction house parking lot. Clara and Travis walking out, arm in arm. “Travis, are you happy tonight?” “Happy. But Clara… how are you going to pay back the company?” “Don’t worry. I have Caleb. He’s an idiot. I’ll cry a little, beg a little, and he’ll find a way to get the money.” “Clara, you’re so good to me…” They kissed. Passionately. Clara’s face went white. I smirked. “I accept your proposal to break off the engagement. After all, I don’t want to be an idiot.” I turned and walked out. 4 The first thing I did after waking up in this timeline was secure that footage. It cost me a favor, but it was worth it. I left the silent room behind. The video was damning. The friends who had defended her looked sick. Someone laughed bitterly. “So we aren’t friends, we’re just tools?” “Looks like Caleb wasn’t the only idiot.” “Clara, maybe spend less time plotting and more time figuring out how to stay out of prison.” They left, one by one. Only Clara and Travis remained. Clara’s eyes were red with hate. Travis looked panicked. I texted both our parents, informing them the engagement was off. I didn’t do it in person because I knew Clara’s parents would never approve of Travis. Travis was an orphan with no job, living off Clara. Now Clara was half a million in debt. Even if she sold the items—which had been bought at a huge markup—she’d only recoup half. The rest would bankrupt her parents. Without money, their “true love” would crumble. In my past life, she resented me because she thought they could live on love alone. So this time, I stepped aside. Let them try. Clara was frantically trying to sell the luxury goods, but lowball offers were making her and Travis fight constantly. She didn’t come to me. But her parents did. “Caleb, we know Clara made a mistake. We apologize on her behalf.” “She was just confused. Can you forgive her this once?” They looked ten years older. To be fair, her parents had always treated me like a son. “Uncle, Auntie, I can’t accept your apology. Clara didn’t make a mistake; she just doesn’t love me.” “Forcing us together will only make us miserable.” Clara’s mom wept, grabbing my hand. “But Caleb, you’ve always loved her! And she likes you too, she just doesn’t realize it yet!” I gently pulled my hand away. “Auntie, I did love her. But once I knew her heart belonged to someone else, I let go.” “I grew up with her. I just want her to be happy.” Her father sighed. “Forget it. They aren’t meant to be. Let’s go.” I drove them home. Just as I was leaving, Clara and Travis arrived, holding hands. Seeing me, Clara’s face froze. She rushed over and shoved me away from her door. “What are you doing here? Here to laugh at me?” “Or did you regret it and come to suck up to my parents?” Looking at her, I felt nothing. No anger, no love. Just… pity.

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The Ninth. This was the ninth boy Catherine Pierce had brought me to “ghost sing” for. The new kid, Dylan, sauntered around the recording studio with a sneer. “You signed a ten-year contract with her, and she’s never released a single song of your own?” he mused. “We just met today, and she’s already asking if I want to be a superstar.” He paused, a smirk playing on his lips. “I was wondering how I was supposed to sing when I’m completely tone-deaf. Turns out, she has a ‘shadow’ like you.” He wasn’t wrong. Catherine Pierce was one of the country’s most renowned music producers. There was no one she couldn’t make famous, only those she didn’t deem worthy. Before Dylan, eight other boys had been handpicked by Catherine, given songs, launched into stardom, and became overnight sensations. All of them, of course, owed their success to me. Their shadow. I used to fight her, screaming until my throat was raw. “You only love this voice, don’t you? What if I destroyed it? Would you care then?” Her response was always a dismissive caress, a soft murmur. “Don’t be dramatic, Julian. You are my most perfect creation. Of course I love you.” That, and a bank card with an ever-increasing credit limit. So this time, I said nothing. I just silently went through the sound check, the calibrations, the recording, pretending Dylan’s taunts didn’t even register. My silence pleased Catherine. She reached out and patted my cheek affectionately. What she seemed to have forgotten was that our ten-year contract was set to expire in ten days. 1 “Stop, stop, stop!” Dylan strode over to the control console, wrapping an arm around Catherine’s waist. “Cat, I don’t like this song. It’s too sappy. Can we get something with a different vibe?” Catherine, seated at the mixing board, didn’t even look annoyed. “What kind of vibe are you looking for?” “Something explosive! A real banger!” Dylan declared. I lowered my head, adjusting the microphone. Last year, I’d tried adding an improvised riff to a song’s chorus. Her face had instantly turned to ice. “Julian, remember your place. Stick to the sheet music. Don’t get creative.” But now, she just ruffled Dylan’s hair. “Alright. If you want to change it, we’ll change it. My Dylan deserves something special.” I put my headphones back on. During a break, Dylan spotted a wooden guitar propped against the wall. “Whoa, this thing is beautiful!” he exclaimed, grabbing it. My stomach clenched. That was Catherine’s prized possession, a custom-made Italian acoustic. Three years ago, I’d accidentally bumped it while cleaning, and she’d flown into a rage. “Don’t touch it! That guitar is worth more than you’ll ever be.” Dylan strummed the strings haphazardly, producing a series of jarring, ugly sounds. Catherine walked over, wrapping her arms around him from behind. “You like it?” “It’s gorgeous! Just a little heavy.” He shoved the guitar into her arms. “It’s digging into my hand.” She took it, setting it aside carelessly as she massaged his fingers. “I’ll find you a lighter one next time.” I watched them, a knot of wet cotton forming in my stomach, a dull, persistent ache. The studio’s air conditioner hummed. I was in a short-sleeved shirt, but goosebumps prickled my arms. “It’s boiling in here, Cat. Can you turn the AC down?” Dylan whined, fanning himself with his collar. Catherine immediately set the thermostat to 65 degrees. A blast of cold air hit the back of my neck. “Thirsty?” she asked Dylan, her voice low. “What do you want to drink? I’ll go get it.” “Iced Americano!” he grinned. “And some of those fried street food skewers!” She grabbed her car keys and left without a second thought. I watched her go. In ten years, through countless sessions where I’d sung until my throat was raw, she had never once asked if I was thirsty. Catherine returned quickly, carrying coffee and a bag of takeout. “Dylan, take a break. Get something to eat.” She stuck a straw in the coffee and held it to his lips. Dylan sipped his drink and then pointed at me. “Hey, you. Shadow. Do that last part again. It didn’t feel right.” I took a deep breath and walked back into the recording booth. We kept changing the style, and by ten o’clock that night, the track still wasn’t right. Outside, a storm had broken, rain lashing against the windows. As I was packing up, Catherine suddenly spoke. “Julian, I’ll give you a ride.” I froze, looking up at her. In ten years, this was the first time she had ever offered to take me home. The dead embers of hope inside me flickered, a tiny wisp of smoke rising against all odds. 2 “We can’t have you catching a cold,” she added. “It would affect your performance for tomorrow’s session.” And just like that, the rain extinguished the smoke. I understood. She wasn’t worried about me. She was worried a cold would delay Dylan’s debut album. The heat in the car was blasting. “Aside from the fact he can’t sing, Dylan has the perfect look, the perfect charisma,” she said, as if to herself. “His debut has to be flawless.” I stared out the window at the rain streaming down the glass and said nothing. She pulled up to the entrance of my rundown apartment complex but didn’t drive in. “You can walk from here, right?” Catherine looked straight ahead. “It’s just a few steps. Dylan’s exhausted. I’m taking him back to my place to rest.” In the rearview mirror, I saw Dylan asleep in the back, covered with her jacket. It hit me like a punch to the gut. She was taking him back to her family home? The ancestral estate she’d once told me no outsider would ever set foot in. I didn’t say a word. I just opened the door and stepped out. Rain immediately soaked my shoulder. The car’s taillights vanished into the downpour. I stood there, drenched, watching the spot where they had disappeared. She really was different with him. My phone vibrated in my soaked pocket. “Chloe,” I croaked, my voice hoarse. “I want to come home.” My sister’s voice on the other end was a burst of surprised joy. “Julian? Really? You finally… I’m coming to get you right now!” “Wait ten more days,” I said softly, wiping the rain from my face. “Just ten more.” The long hours in the freezing studio finally did me in. I swallowed a few pills and collapsed into bed. My mind drifted back eight years. “Why can’t it be me?” I’d cried, clutching at her sleeve. “I can be the one on stage! I can learn to dance, I can learn anything.” “Can’t you… not find someone else? Can’t it just be me?” She pulled her arm away, looking me up and down. “You’re too fat. You’re not photogenic.” At the time, I was six feet tall and weighed 145 pounds. I didn’t eat for three days after that. On the fourth day, I blacked out during a recording session. When I woke up, I was in her family home. The one and only time I ever set foot in that place. She’d gently fed me porridge. “Stop torturing yourself. I’ll make many people famous, and I’ll have many lovers. But you will always be my best partner. And in the end, you’ll be the only one who matters.” My phone vibrating pulled me back to the present. A text from Catherine: Be there at nine a.m. sharp tomorrow. The next morning, Dylan was already in the studio when I arrived, eating pork buns. “You can’t eat in here.” It was one of Catherine’s strictest rules. Her love for music was so obsessive she considered food a contaminant. I’d once brought a sandwich in, and she’d smashed a glass on the floor. “If you ever do that again, I will throw you and your sandwich out on the street!” Dylan rolled his eyes. “Who asked you?” The door opened, and Catherine walked in with a paper bag. “Cat!” Dylan immediately ran to her. “He yelled at me!” I braced for her explosion. Instead, she just placed the bag on the console. “I brought you some pan-fried dumplings. Eat them while they’re hot.” I stood there, stunned. “No way,” Dylan pouted. “They’ll make me fat.” “A little pudge is good,” she said, pinching his cheek, her voice dripping with affection. “I like you with a little meat on your bones.” My stomach churned. I remembered her words: “You’re too fat. You’re not photogenic.” Dylan was easily fifteen pounds heavier than I was. “Let’s get to work,” Catherine said, clapping her hands. When we got to the chorus, Dylan suddenly stopped us. “Can we add a harmony here?” “If you want to, sure.” “I want you to sing it!” he whined, shaking her arm. “Just a small part.” Catherine was fiercely private. To avoid the media’s constant scrutiny of her personal life, she rarely made public appearances or spoke on the record. Last year, I had acute appendicitis and needed emergency surgery. The hospital required a family member’s consent. The nurse called her. On the phone, she refused to say a single word. My sister had to fly back from out of town to sign the papers. The doctor said another half hour and I would have been dead. But now, she actually nodded. “Okay. I’ll sing with you.” I stared down at the lyric sheet, my fingers crushing the paper into deep wrinkles. I never thought this would be how I’d get my first duet with Catherine. We finally finished at three in the afternoon. “The results are fantastic,” Catherine said, saving the project file. “Dylan, your on-camera presence is amazing. You’re going to be a huge star.” Dylan shot me a triumphant look. “I think so too. It’s like I’m really the one singing!” I quietly packed my things and left. My job was just to be the voice. Catherine would handle the rest. I got home, and the rain started again. Sometime after midnight, lost in a feverish sleep, my phone exploded with a call. It was Catherine’s assistant. “Mr. Vance, get to the studio! Now! Ms. Pierce is furious. You’d better be here in ten minutes!” 3 When I burst into the studio, Catherine was standing at the console, her back to me. Dylan was sitting in a swivel chair, his eyes red and puffy. “You finally show up,” Dylan leaped to his feet. “Did you do this?” I was still catching my breath. “Do what?” “Someone leaked that my new song is plagiarized!” He slammed a tablet down in front of me. “Did you leak this demo?” On the screen was the interface of an old, obscure music website. It was playing a song I wrote in high school, “Whispering Wind.” The upload date was a week ago. A few of the lyrics were identical to Dylan’s new song—the very same lines I had suggested we change. Catherine turned around, her face a thundercloud. “Explain.” “That’s a song I wrote in high school,” I stammered, my voice trembling. “I’ve never published it. I’ve never even heard of this website!” “Stop playing innocent!” Dylan shrieked. “You’re just jealous! You’re trying to sabotage me! Who else could have posted your song?” Catherine’s eyes bored into me. “So this was your plan all along? This is how you get your revenge?” I was speechless. “What?” “First, you pretend to casually suggest some lyric changes. Then, right after Dylan’s song is released, you hire online trolls to expose it as plagiarism,” she sneered. “So calculating.” “You don’t just want to ruin Dylan. You want to ruin me.” It felt like a physical blow to my heart. “No, that’s not it, that song was—” “Was what? What lie are you going to spin now?” It was a song I wrote for you. The words died on my lips. It was the secret I’d kept hidden for years, the confession of a teenage boy who fell in love with you at the school talent show when you played the piano on stage. You were like a beacon of light. I became obsessed. I listened outside the practice rooms every day after school. I downloaded videos of all your performances. I even retook my senior year of high school just to get into the same university as you. After graduation, I worked relentlessly on my singing because you once said you liked guys who could sing. All just to get a little closer to you. But what was the point of saying any of that now? She wouldn’t care. Catherine picked up her phone. “PR team. Release a statement.” “Say that Julian Vance plagiarized Dylan’s unreleased work and maliciously uploaded it to the internet.” I was horrified. “How can you twist the truth like that?” “You’re not a public figure,” she said nonchalantly, twisting a strand of her hair. “No one will remember you. Dylan is different. He’s going to be a superstar.” The assistant hesitated. “Ms. Pierce, about Mr. Vance…” “I’m not interested in anything about him,” Catherine waved her hand dismissively. “Just do as I say.” “This is what he gets for being so clever.” Dylan smiled in triumph. Two hours later, thanks to a coordinated online smear campaign, my photos and personal information were everywhere. Calls started coming in from unknown numbers. DIE, YOU PLAGIARIZING SCUM! HOW DARE YOU MESS WITH DYLAN! DOX HIM! LET’S RUIN HIS LIFE! I curled up on the sofa, watching the venomous comments flood my screen. My phone lit up with a text from Catherine. Stay in line. Don’t cause any more trouble. Or I can’t guarantee what will happen next. The next day was Dylan’s new song release event. My voice was so raw that I couldn’t perform the live “ghost vocal,” so Catherine had to change it to an autograph session at the last minute, cutting the performance segment. I was in the middle of lunch when my apartment door was violently kicked open. It was two of Catherine’s assistants. One of them grabbed my arm. “You’re coming with us to the studio.” I was still running a fever, weak and dizzy, as they half-dragged, half-carried me out the door. A terrible feeling began to creep over me. 4 The recording studio was as cold as a meat locker; the AC was on full blast. An assistant made a video call. Catherine’s tired, furious face appeared on the screen. She was in a hospital room. Dylan was lying in the bed behind her, asleep. “Julian, you are truly ruthless,” Catherine’s voice was arctic. “I don’t understand.” “You don’t understand?” She laughed, a sound devoid of humor. “At Dylan’s signing today, someone pretending to be a fan handed him a bottle of water. He took one sip and completely lost his voice. He’s here now getting emergency treatment!” I was stunned. “What does that have to do with me? I’ve been home sleeping all day!” “Nothing to do with you?!” “Security caught the ‘fan’ immediately. He said you put him up to it. Said he was ‘protecting your original work’!” Catherine’s glare was like a knife. “Besides you, who else would have a reason to go after Dylan?” Just then, Dylan stirred. Catherine picked up a glass of water. “Shhh, it’s okay. Drink a little. Then go back to sleep.” She gently wet his lips with a cotton swab. After Dylan was settled, she turned back to the screen, her expression instantly freezing over. “Since you enjoy playing these little games, let’s see how you like a taste of your own medicine.” At her command, an assistant produced a small, clear vial filled with a colorless liquid. “What is that?” “Something to shut you up.” Catherine’s voice came through the speaker. “You think you’re untouchable because of that voice, don’t you? You think I can’t live without you? Well, let’s just see what tricks you can pull when it’s gone.” My legs gave out, and I collapsed. “Catherine! It’s all I have left…” She scoffed. “And that’s precisely why I have to take it away.” “I’ll disappear forever! I’ll leave the city! I’ll never show my face to you again, just please, don’t do this to my voice!” “Do it.” The two assistants pinned me down, one on each side. They pried my jaw open and poured the liquid down my throat. It burned like acid. I thrashed wildly, the potion mixing with my tears, splashing all over me. “Lock him in,” Catherine said, before ending the call with a look of disgust. The studio door slammed shut and was locked from the outside. I scrambled to the door, pounding on it, but all I could manage were hoarse, rasping gasps. I couldn’t even scream for help. On the morning of the third day, Catherine was in the hospital, peeling an apple for Dylan. Her assistant burst into the room, panicked. “Ms. Pierce! He’s gone!” “Who’s gone?” she asked, not looking up from the apple. “Julian! He’s not in the studio! All we found was this!” The assistant handed her a sheet of paper and the empty vial. It was our ten-year contract. The expiration date was yesterday.

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My childhood friend, Leo, loved to date. He also loved to set me up. If anyone showed even the slightest hint of interest in me, he would move heaven and earth to play matchmaker. “Marcus is back in the country,” he told me, leaning against his car. “He wants to get dinner, asked me to bring you along.” He glanced at me. “You should go. I think he’s still into you.” “You weren’t interested back then, but maybe it’ll work out this time.” His tone was more sincere than when he’d proposed to me two years ago. I’d lost count of how many times he’d tried to sell me off like this. In the past, I always refused. But this time, I smiled and nodded. “Alright, I’ll go.” In the tenth year of loving Leo, I finally let him go. 1. Leo was driving me home when he suddenly called my name just as I was getting out of the car. I turned. He had one arm resting on the open window, the ember of his cigarette glowing in the dark. He gave me a lazy smile. “This time, after you see Marcus, don’t go crying to me on the phone, begging me to pick you up.” I smiled back. “I won’t.” “And if things do work out between us, I’ll have you to thank.” The night air was cool against my bare skin, a chilling, clarifying sensation. “I think it’s time I had a real relationship. As for us…” I paused, searching for the right words. They caught on my tongue. “Whether you’re looking for a girlfriend or just a warm body in your bed, that’s your business.” “Let’s just call it quits between us.” The year I loved Leo the most, he must have noticed the way I looked at him, because he started avoiding me at every turn. He’d answer one out of every ten of my calls, reply to two out of every ten texts. But just when I’d resolved to put some distance between us, he’d reach out, asking if I was taking care of myself. The first time I met Marcus was one of those rare occasions when Leo sought me out, saying he wanted to take me somewhere fun. But when we got there, I went to buy a bottle of water. When I came back, Leo was gone. Only Marcus was left, waiting. “He had to leave,” Marcus said. “He told me to hang out with you.” I blinked, trying to process his words. “What does that mean?” Marcus’s features were sharp and cool, but his gaze was intense, focused. “I like you,” he said simply. “Leo said he’d introduce us.” I later learned the full story. When Marcus first told Leo he was interested in me, Leo had raised an eyebrow. “Sure, I can set you two up. In exchange, give me your cousin’s number.” And just like that, Leo had pushed me toward someone else. Right at the moment when I was filled with hope, thinking he’d finally stopped avoiding me. I’d tried on a dozen different outfits before meeting him, wanting to look perfect. Seeing my eyes welling up with tears, Marcus frowned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize… he didn’t explain things to you.” That day was a disaster. I walked home aimlessly, tears streaming down my face. I called Leo. The line was busy. I called again. Still busy. I kept dialing, my actions mechanical. Marcus caught up with me from behind, his hand closing around my wrist. He knelt before me and gently swapped my high heels for a pair of flats he was holding. “Come on,” he said softly. “How much farther do you have to walk? I’ll walk with you.” Just then, Leo’s call came through. I was sobbing so hard I could barely speak, managing only to call him a bastard. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone casual. “Did Marcus give you a hard time? Alright, alright, I’m coming back to get you.” On the way there, I’d been in the passenger seat. On the way back, Leo’s new girlfriend was sitting there. She was beautiful. When she got out of the car, she and Leo shared a long, lingering kiss. His lips were stained a deep red. He took her hand. “I’ll drop my friend off first, then I’ll come find you tonight.” The girl smiled shyly. I whipped my head around, staring out the window at the reflection of his handsome, faithless face. This was back in college, when we still lived with our parents. We’d been neighbors for almost twenty years. No matter how much we fought, we always walked the same path home. Suddenly, Leo slung an arm around my shoulder, leaning in to look at my eyes. He smiled faintly. “Still crying? What could possibly be worth all these tears?” “You don’t like Marcus? I can introduce you to someone else, how about that?” “When you were seventeen, you followed me around, tattling to our parents that I was dating. Now you’re trying to ruin my love life again.” “Clara, have you ever met a bigger third wheel? If it were anyone else, I’d have decked them by now.” I stared at his face, which seemed to have shed the last of its boyishness, and a bitter ache filled my chest. He was always so carefree, so thoughtless. I was nineteen. My most vivid memory of Leo was the day he pushed me off on another guy and got his first official girlfriend. That night, I hid in the dark, crying and praying. Please, God, please. Don’t let me love him anymore. 2. When I saw Marcus again, he had matured. I asked him what he liked so much about me that he was still asking me out after all these years. “What did you like so much about Leo?” he countered. The shadows of the trees danced on our faces, half in light, half in darkness, obscuring our expressions. “Whenever Leo was around,” he said, “your eyes would follow him. Even when you were doing your own thing, you couldn’t help but sneak glances at him.” So everyone knew. Everyone could see how much I had loved him. “Now that you’re over him,” Marcus said, his voice earnest, “why not give me a try?” He asked so seriously. It reminded me of a spring night years ago, when Leo had asked me the same thing. Two years after we graduated from college, Leo’s grandmother fell gravely ill. His family pressured him to take over the company, to find a stable girlfriend, to get married, to have children. One night, he got incredibly drunk and grabbed my hand. “Clara, be my girlfriend, just for a while. My family adores you.” “If I’m with you, they’ll stop worrying.” “Besides,” he slurred, “you don’t like any of the guys I set you up with. So why not give me a try?” When we were little and played house, Leo was always the dad, and I was always the mom. He used to ask his parents, “When can I grow up? I want to marry Clara.” I was a sickly child, and Leo would refuse to go to school, insisting on staying by my side. He’d tell my parents, “You don’t take good care of Clara! I’m taking her home with me!” But as we grew up, I was the only one who remembered those promises. Over time, they became an obsession I couldn’t escape. Maybe if I just had him, the pain would stop. My heart hammered in my chest. I grabbed the front of his shirt and kissed him. Leo and I continued that ambiguous relationship for a long time. It was a confusing, intoxicating entanglement. Sometimes, in moments of passion, he would whisper “baby” in my ear. It made me brave enough to ask him once, my voice barely a whisper, “Do you like me? Even a little?” He lazily lifted his eyelids, not having heard me clearly. “What?” But my courage failed me. I couldn’t bring myself to ask again. I just let his hand rest over my heart. During his grandmother’s final days, Leo knelt on one knee in her hospital room and proposed to me. Our hands were clasped so tightly they were slick with sweat, but neither of us let go. The two rings he held clinked together with a clear, sharp sound. For a moment, I almost believed I had finally found the happiness I’d been chasing. In the winter of my twenty-fourth year, Leo’s grandmother passed away. It was a long time before our two families gathered for a meal again. Afterwards, Leo offered to drive me home. In the car, he slipped the ring off his finger and tried to put it on mine, alongside the one I was already wearing. “It’s a little big. You should get it resized.” “This was just to make my grandmother happy,” he said casually. “Now that she’s gone, it doesn’t really mean anything.” “But I remember you really seemed to like these when we picked them out, so you can have them both.” I froze. Leo reached out and playfully pinched my cheek. “You didn’t actually think I was going to marry you, did you? We agreed this was just pretend.” “We’re adults, Clara.” I stared at him for a long, silent moment. Then, I started to laugh. It was true. Loving Leo all these years was like holding a glass while someone kept pouring boiling water into it. Eventually, the pain becomes unbearable, and you have no choice but to let go. Fine, delicate snowflakes drifted down from the sky, landing on my eyelashes like tears. “You don’t need to drive me home.” After graduation, Leo and I had both moved out of our parents’ houses and gotten our own places. He lived downtown, I lived in the suburbs. We hadn’t been on the same path for a long time. 3. Leo spent two years abroad. We barely spoke. The only time we saw each other was during the first year, at Christmas. Both our families decided to visit him and celebrate together. His business partner here was hosting, and when he met me, his admiration was obvious. He asked Leo to set us up. Leo just smiled. “I can ask for you, but you don’t stand a chance.” The partner was indignant. Leo just stuck his hands in his pockets, his tone confident and certain. “She can’t accept anyone else.” I had been standing just outside the door and heard everything. A bitter, ridiculous feeling bloomed in my chest. So, he knew. Perhaps Leo had always known how I felt. Leo introduced me to his partner, then asked me with a glint of amusement in his eyes, “What do you think? Want to give him a shot?” “My love life is none of your business.” He laughed, as if my reaction was exactly what he expected. “You don’t like this one, you don’t like that one. What kind of guy do you actually like?” He leaned in close, his eyes searching mine as if trying to see into my soul. “Or is it that you like guys like me? I mean, we always did have amazing chemistry.” He moved closer and closer, his eyes shimmering. I turned my face away, my voice cool. “I don’t like you, either.” Leo just hummed in response and straightened up. “Alright, then.” “When you do find someone you like, be sure to let me know.” Later, I saw a post from a mutual friend who had visited him. In the photo, Leo was smiling, a beautiful girl beside him looking at him with adoration. His new flame, apparently. The caption read, “Long time no see. Leo’s still got it with the ladies.” I calmly liked the post. I felt none of the old pangs of jealousy, like when I used to search for him on the sports field in high school, watching him surrounded by girls, my heart aching as he charmed them all. None of the bitter disappointment of the time he handed me a pink envelope and asked me to give the love letter to another classmate. That New Year’s Eve, Leo and I confessed to our families that our engagement had been a sham. After a round of scolding us for being so foolish, they finally accepted that there was nothing between us. Only my mother looked at me, her expression full of unspoken words. She had seen the “Book of Answers” in my room, a popular fad at the time. I had filled an entire page with Leo’s name, over and over again. When he returned from abroad, I tossed the book in the trash without a second thought. I looked at my mother and said, “Don’t worry. I’m over him.” Two years passed. At Leo’s welcome-home dinner, our parents were chiding us both. “You’re not getting any younger. Isn’t it time you two settled down?” And so, Leo casually brought up Marcus’s invitation. He asked me again if I wanted to see Marcus, but his tone suggested he was already prepared for my refusal. “Fine, if you don’t want to go, then don’t… Wait, what did you say?” I had said yes. 4. The family dinner ended late. My parents were worried and insisted Leo drive me home. “You should probably use the GPS,” I said. Leo shot me a look. “I’ve driven this route a thousand times. I know it by heart.” “Is that so? You have a good memory, then.” My reply was lukewarm. His fingers, which had been tapping on the steering wheel, stilled. “Clara, you’ve changed.” “Everyone changes.” I turned to look out the window. We drove the rest of the way in silence. When we arrived, Leo tried to follow me upstairs, but I pushed his hand away. “Two years ago, you left so quickly, I never got a chance to say what I needed to say.” “What we had wasn’t a real relationship, so it’s not technically a breakup, but it still needs a proper ending. This is it.” “And from now on, stop meddling in my life under the guise of helping me.” His expression was unreadable. “Are you mad at me?” he asked suddenly. “Can you at least unblock me?” I met his gaze, my eyes clear, my voice even. “I never blocked you.” “Then why don’t you answer my calls or reply to my texts?” He trailed off, the smile completely vanishing from his eyes. I hadn’t blocked him. I had simply stopped responding. Just like he used to do to me. From my window, I saw Leo standing downstairs in front of my building until the middle of the night. The streetlight stretched his shadow long and thin on the pavement as he smoked one cigarette after another. Twenty-odd years of my life, all entangled with him, flashed before my eyes like a movie montage. I switched off my bedroom light. And now, here was Marcus, still waiting for my answer. “You might find that once you have it, it’s not what you thought it would be,” I cautioned him. Just like it was for me. Marcus took a deep breath, as if steeling himself. “Clara, I don’t know if you ever guessed, but all those anonymous birthday gifts you receive every year… they’re from me.” “I just wanted to tell you, over and over again on that day, how much your existence means to me.” “I’ve tried to give up on you,” he confessed, “but I can’t.” “So please, just take pity on me.” He stood there, a tall, strong man, suddenly looking so small and vulnerable. In him, I saw a reflection of my former self. The spring blossoms fell around us like soft rain, and for a moment that felt like an eternity, I said nothing. Then, I reached out and took his hand. “Okay,” I said. “Let’s give it a try.” When I got home later that night, I saw Leo leaning against my door. He held up his phone. It was a picture Marcus had posted, of the two of us kissing at the top of a Ferris wheel. “You’re together?”

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The first thing I did after being reborn was to cancel my husband and his family’s household registration, effectively erasing their legal existence. In my previous life, shortly after I married my husband, my mother-in-law announced she was pregnant. A few months later, she gave birth to a girl. I had no children of my own, so I treated this little sister-in-law like my own daughter. But tragedy struck when my husband and his parents went on a trip and were all killed in a car accident. Before he died, my husband left a final wish: that I raise his little sister into adulthood. Devastated, I agreed immediately. I took her in and raised her as a single mother, never remarrying. Finally, when she turned thirty, she became the youngest female CEO in the company’s history. At her inauguration ceremony, my husband and in-laws, who had supposedly been dead for years, suddenly appeared. It turned out they had faked their deaths just to trick me into raising the child. And my “sister-in-law” wasn’t my in-laws’ child at all, but my husband’s illegitimate daughter with his first love. “I didn’t expect you to raise my daughter so well. Now that I’m back, you, the outsider, can leave.” Enraged, I rushed forward to demand justice, only to be pushed down the stairs by my husband. The girl I had raised with my own hands watched coldly, showing no hesitation in returning to her “real” family. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the car accident. 1 “Hello, is this the family of Mr. Mark Reynolds? Your family members have been in a car accident and are being resuscitated at our hospital. Please come immediately.” A familiar voice came from the phone. My heart clenched, disbelief washing over me. “Hello? Hello? Can you hear me? Mrs. Reynolds, your husband and his parents were in a car accident. You need to come to the hospital now!” The person on the other end urged, anxious at my silence. I looked at the phone, finally confirming it—I had been reborn. “I’m not. You have the wrong number.” I calmed myself and spoke coldly. The person on the other end choked on their words, tried to say something, but then hung up. I let out a breath. In my past life, hearing this news sent me rushing to the hospital, only to find my in-laws covered in white sheets and my husband, Mark, clinging to his last breath. Now I realize, his “last breath” act was just to deliver his final wish, binding me to widowhood forever. Just as memories of my past life flooded back, a car screeched to a halt beside me. My parents jumped out. “What are you doing? Something happened to your family, don’t you know? Get in the car, we’re going to the hospital!” Mark had a backup plan. Even if I didn’t go, he would contact my parents to ensure his scheme worked. It seemed I had to go. I feigned shock. “You got a call too? Could it be a scam? How could a whole family of three get into an accident at the same time?” My parents, frantic a moment ago, paused. Right. What are the odds of a whole family getting into an accident simultaneously? That would be incredibly unlucky. I thought for a moment and said, “How about this? You guys go home first. I’ll go to the hospital and check. If it’s true, I’ll call you.” My parents nodded, finding my logic sound. Relieved, they gave me a few instructions and left. I hailed a taxi to the hospital. As soon as I entered, a nurse grabbed my arm. “You’re finally here! The patients are fading fast. Go in quickly, say whatever you need to say!” I walked in. Three beds. Two covered in white sheets—my in-laws. On the third lay a weak-looking Mark. Seeing me, his expression turned annoyed. “Why are you so late? I almost didn’t make it.” “Honey, are you okay? Mom and Dad…” 2 I didn’t play along. Instead, I turned to lift the sheets covering my in-laws, wanting to see if they were truly dead. Mark immediately stopped me, terrified I’d discover their fake deaths. “Don’t touch them! Mom and Dad are gone. You, their daughter-in-law, didn’t even see them one last time. Are you going to disturb their peace now?” The nurse who had found me outside also stepped in, blocking my way. “Exactly. I called you so many times, and you ignored them. Now you want to disturb the deceased? You are heartless.” Mark raised a hand to stop the nurse, coughing weakly. “It’s too late for that now.” “Sarah, I only have one worry left. Can you promise me?” “After I’m gone, my only sister, Lily, will be alone in this world. You are her only family left. You must raise her. As her sister-in-law, it’s your responsibility!” Hearing his commanding tone, I rolled my eyes internally. In my last life, just months after marrying Mark, his mother back in their hometown suddenly announced she was eight months pregnant and about to give birth. Though angry, it was too late for an abortion. I had to accept this little sister-in-law. Later, the accident happened. Mark left his final wish, asking me to care for Lily as my own daughter. Grief-stricken and confused, I agreed immediately. With a child in tow, remarriage was off the table. I focused everything on Lily. I treated her like my own, giving her the best of everything, even depleting my savings. When she got sick and needed expensive treatment, I borrowed from loan sharks. To repay them, I worked day and night, sleeping only three or four hours. Luckily, Lily was capable. Under my guidance, she got into a top university, joined a multinational company, and became a CEO before thirty. At her inauguration, the “dead” Reynolds family resurrected, revealing it was all Mark’s plan. And Lily wasn’t my in-laws’ child, but Mark’s illegitimate daughter with his first love. Calculating the timeline, he had rekindled his romance with her right after marrying me. I was furious enough to vomit blood, yet the daughter I raised called him “Dad” without hesitation, ignoring my years of sacrifice. I rushed Mark, only to be pushed down the stairs to my death. Thinking of this, I wanted to stab all three of them. Make them truly dead. “Honey, Lily is your parents’ child. What business does a sister-in-law have raising her? If people think she’s mine, it’ll ruin my future.” 3 Mark hadn’t expected me to say that. Forgetting his act, he sat bolt upright. “Sarah, are you human? I’m not even dead yet, and you’re thinking about a second spring?” “I’m your husband. Lily is my sister, your sister. You have to raise her!” I sneered. “Dream on. Once you die, we have no relationship. Your sister is an orphan. She should go to foster care.” “You dare! Is foster care a place for humans?” Seeing my cold demeanor, Mark softened his tone, pleading, “Wife, I’m dying. This is my last wish. Do you want me to die with regrets?” My eyes darted around, and I suddenly “remembered” something. “Wait a minute. Honey, what about the driver? He hit you all; shouldn’t he pay damages?” In my last life, grief blinded me to compensation. Not this time. “Driver… I don’t know. Maybe a hit-and-run. I’m dying, I can’t worry about that. I can only entrust Lily to you.” I pulled out my phone and dialed 911. “No way. Hit-and-run means jail and compensation. I’m calling the police now!” Mark panicked. A police investigation would expose their fake deaths. “Cough! Cough, cough!” He coughed violently, biting his tongue to spit blood. The nurse immediately pushed me out, snatching my phone to stop the call. As soon as I was in the hallway, Lily ran over, hugging my legs. “Auntie Sarah, Auntie Sarah.” I looked down at her. She was only two, in a princess dress, but I felt no affection. Obviously, Mark sent her to distract me. A moment later, the nurse came out. “I’m sorry, your husband has passed. My condolences.” “The driver has been found. Follow me.” She led me to an office where a middle-aged man stood holding a bank card. Since there was no accident, this man must be another actor Mark hired. Seeing me, he dropped to his knees. “I’m sorry, I fell asleep at the wheel. I hit your family. I have elderly parents and young kids, please don’t call the police!” “Good people have good karma. Miss, please, I’ll give you all my money. Please don’t call the police. I’m begging you!” This actor was dedicated. He was just doing a job, no point in making it hard for him. But it was negotiation time. I grabbed his collar, shaking him. “Give me back my husband! You ruined my family, you must go to jail!” “No amount of money will bring him back!” “This is all I have. Please, give me a way out. I really have no more money. My sick mother and kids are waiting for me!” I acted unyielding, phone ready to dial. The actor stopped me. “I’ll go sell my house right now. All the money is yours. Please let me go.” That’s more like it. I put down the phone. “One hour. Or I call the cops.” The actor left to consult Mark. Soon he returned. “There’s $50,000 in these two cards. It’s really all I have.” I wasn’t greedy. I took the cards and left with Lily. Leaving the hospital, I went straight to the records office and cancelled their household registrations. Since they wanted to play dead, I’d help them disappear completely. The Reynolds family sure had guts, dumping a child on me. Fine. I won’t disappoint them. 4 With the $50,000, my life was quite comfortable. But I wasn’t ungrateful. With money, I didn’t neglect the child’s education. I sent her to the best international schools, enrolled her in various classes, and sent her abroad for college. Fortunately, the child was capable. Top of her class domestically, holding her own against elites abroad. When she returned, I arranged a position for her in my company. In this life, with money, I had secured a place for myself. With my paving the way and her own efforts, achieving her past life’s success was easy. At the inauguration, I sat in the front row, watching my adopted daughter tearfully thank me for my support. I smiled, mentally counting down. Mark should be appearing soon. As expected, just as Lily (now named Sophia) was about to thank the most important person in her life, a familiar voice rang out from the door. “Wait! My dear daughter, shouldn’t the person you thank most be me?” We all looked. Mark and my former in-laws walked in, heads held high. Despite giving me the $50,000, they seemed to have lived well. “Sophia, remember me? I’m your dad.” Mark stepped forward, eager to claim her. Sophia frowned. “Who are you? My dad died years ago. Don’t claim relations randomly.” Mark got more excited. “Yes, I was in a car accident years ago, almost died. The doctors saved me, but I lost my memory. I just remembered recently and came to find you immediately.” “These are your grandparents. They raised you. You might not remember me, but surely you remember them.” Sophia looked confused. “Grandparents? Security! Get these crazy people out!” Seeing Sophia’s resistance, my ex-in-laws looked heartbroken, glaring at me viciously. “Sarah! How did you raise the child? We are her grandparents! How could you teach her not to recognize us?” I sneered, walking up to Mark. “Didn’t you say Sophia was your sister? How is she your daughter now?” Mark didn’t seem afraid. Instead, he looked smug. ” would you have raised her if I didn’t say that?” “I’ll tell you the truth. Sophia is my child with Jasmine. My biological daughter. I lost my memory, and Jasmine took care of me. If you know what’s good for you, get lost.” Watching his smug face, I laughed internally. He still thought I was the doormat from my past life. Sophia was an ungrateful wolf. Why would she stand with me like the Sophia on stage? “I think the one who should get lost is you. Watch your mouth when talking to my mom!” Sophia stood in front of me, glaring at Mark. “What are you to bark at my mom?” “I’m your father! Sophia, how can you not recognize me?!” He then turned to glare at me. “What did you tell my daughter?! How can she not recognize me? You vicious woman, this is my daughter! What good does ruining our relationship do you?” I rolled my eyes. “Who ruined your relationship?” “Then why doesn’t she recognize me?!” I spread my hands. “Because she’s not your daughter.”

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1 On the eve of the college entrance exam results, my childhood-sweetheart-turned-gold-digger fiancé, Julian Sterling, decided to publicly auction off 365 of my most intimate photos in a shady underground club. To save my reputation, I was forced to bet everything I owned. But Julian’s “white moonlight,” his true love Sarah Snow, always bid exactly one dollar more than me. Cornered, Julian suggested I bet my SAT score. In the end, I won back my photos with a perfect 1600 score and the entire fortune of the River family. I thought this absurd auction would never hold up in the real world. But the next day, every asset my family owned was legally transferred to Julian’s name. And me? The valedictorian, the Ivy League hopeful? My SAT score came back as a zero. Meanwhile, Sarah Snow, a girl who struggled to pass basic algebra, suddenly had a perfect 1600 and was the top scholar in the state. I requested a rescore, but the result claimed I had turned in a blank test. Worse still, Julian didn’t keep his end of the bargain. He leaked my private photos anyway. They spread like wildfire. Unable to bear the shame, I jumped from a building. In my final moments, I learned the truth: Julian was bound to an “Auction System.” As long as the auction concluded successfully, whatever was wagered—money, property, abstract concepts like test scores—would be forcefully transferred by the system. He designed the entire auction just to goad me into betting my SAT score, stealing my future to give it to Sarah. Reborn, I found myself back at that nightmarish auction. Facing my treacherous fiancé and his smug lover, I decided to go all in. “I light the Sky Lantern!” …… “Whoa, look at that figure, that tiny waist! The River heiress really lives up to her name as the city’s top beauty!” “Hmph, looks innocent on the surface, but clearly she’s wild in private.” “I told you she was easy, but you didn’t believe me. And she thinks she’s good enough for our Julian?” Wolf whistles and crude jeers erupted from the stands filled with trust-fund babies. On the big screen, hundreds of my private photos were displayed. Some were candid shots from my bedroom; others were blatantly Photoshopped fakes. The architect of this humiliation, Julian Sterling, sat in the VIP box, his arm around Sarah Snow, looking down at me with amusement. “Oh, Sister River,” Sarah cooed, feigning distress but eyes gleaming with triumph. “How could you take such indecent photos? Some even with… well, you have quite the heavy taste! There must be a misunderstanding, right? Explain it to Julian!” I ignored the green tea bitch and stared daggers at Julian. “Julian Sterling, have you forgotten who built the Sterling family? You’re just a dog raised by my family!” Years ago, the Sterling family faced financial ruin. To save themselves, they sent five-year-old Julian to my family as a “child groom.” Basically, he was my charity case. His current status was entirely thanks to the River family lifting him up. But my words struck a nerve. Julian slammed the table. “Evelyn River! Do you still think your family rules this city? You’re confused. Right now, you are the dog we’re playing with!” “Let the auction begin! 365 private photos of Evelyn River. Starting bid: one dollar!” The crowd went wild. “Haha, one dollar? That’s humiliating. I’ll start with ten thousand!” Others chimed in: “One million! Just an appetizer, don’t fight me for it!” Just then, Sarah raised her hand. “I can’t bear to see Sister’s photos fall into the hands of perverts. I’ll buy them for her. Five million!” I sneered internally. She wasn’t being kind. She was baiting me. Julian’s “Auction System” meant that whatever the winning bid was—cash, assets, or otherwise—would be forcibly transferred. They wanted to swallow the River family whole! And to ensure I couldn’t make a comeback, they needed me to bet my future—my SAT score. I treated them like family, and they repaid me with ruin and humiliation. Rage burned in my veins. You like bidding wars? Fine. Let’s play. “I light the Sky Lantern!” I announced, my voice cutting through the noise. “I bet all my savings, my real estate, my cars, and every single share and company owned by the River family. Total value: ten billion dollars! I’m all in!” 2 The room gasped. “Evelyn, are you insane? Over a few photos?” Julian yelled. I ignored him, locking eyes with Sarah. “Do you dare to call?” Panic flashed in Sarah’s eyes. She looked to Julian for help. Her family was nouveau riche, barely scraping into high society thanks to her looks. She didn’t have that kind of money. And the other playboys weren’t stupid enough to bet their inheritance on nudes. “Hmph, it’s just ten billion. I call…” Julian started, but I cut him off. “Playing referee and athlete? I’ve never seen an auction host bid. If you bid, the money just goes from your left pocket to your right. What’s the point?” Julian scoffed. He pulled out his phone, transferred over a billion dollars to Sarah, and signed over several of his own companies and shares on the spot. Total value: over fifteen billion. Sarah, now flush with cash, giggled triumphantly. “Hehe, I said I’d buy them back for Sister, so I will! I call! Ten billion… and one dollar!” Laughter rippled through the crowd. Raising by a single dollar was a blatant insult. “Miss River, can you even scrape together two more dollars? Tell you what, bark like a dog and I’ll toss you a couple bucks,” Julian jeered. I had bet everything. I literally didn’t have another dollar. But I remained calm. “You all want to see my private life? Fine. I raise. I bet 365 private videos. Custom made! How about that?” The crowd exploded, whistling and cheering. Julian froze, frowning deeply. “Evelyn River, do you get off on being exposed? I didn’t know you were this cheap!” His insults and the crowd’s mockery felt like slaps to the face. My dignity was gone, but for my family, for myself, I had to keep going. Sarah glared at me viciously, then gritted her teeth. “Videos? Fine! I call! For every video you make, I’ll make one too!” The atmosphere hit a fever pitch. Whether it was the fallen heiress or the playboy’s lover, the crowd was eager for the show. Seeing the excitement, Julian grinned cruelly. “Since Miss River is so open, I should let the boys have some fun! Let’s preview some of her classics!” Uncensored photos of me appeared on the big screen. 3 The room erupted. Lust filled every pair of eyes staring at me. “Damn, that’s top tier!” “So young but that body is demonic! A natural stunner!” “Way better than flat-chested Sarah over there. I’m bidding!” Blood rushed to my head as I looked at the naked images. “Julian, you bastard! You have no right!” He felt zero guilt. “What? I thought you liked being watched. Stop pretending, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Another wave of laughter. I wanted to disappear. “What’s wrong, Miss River? Still bidding?” “But videos are boring. Why don’t you service the boys right here? There’s at least sixty guys. One night with each, charge a thousand bucks… that’s sixty grand right there!” The crowd cheered at Julian’s suggestion. “I’ll pay two thousand!” “Get lost! No driving up the price! One thousand max!” “Yeah, maybe the first few are worth a grand, but used goods depreciate fast!” I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. Julian, you can hate me, you can kill me, but why humiliate me like this? I swear, I will make you regret being born. I slammed the table, enunciating every word: “Betting money is boring. Sarah Snow, do you dare to bet your life?” The room went silent. Sarah stammered, “L-life? What do you mean? You want to commit suicide here?” “No. I mean the rest of our lives. As long as we breathe, the loser becomes the winner’s slave. The slave owns nothing; everything belongs to the master. The slave must obey every command, even if the command is to die.” You could hear a pin drop. Everyone was shocked by the stakes. Julian whispered furiously to Sarah. My back was soaked with sweat. They could have stopped here. They had already stripped the River family of everything and ensured I could never recover. But I was gambling. Gambling on Sarah’s greed. If I was wrong, I was doomed to eternal hell. Sarah bit her lip, ignoring Julian’s warnings. Her eyes burned with unwillingness to lose. Finally, she stood up and screamed at me. “Just a life? I call!” 4 My knees almost gave out. Thank god she took the bait. “Sarah, are you crazy? This is enough!” Julian shouted. But Sarah pouted, stamping her foot. “No! It’s not enough! I want that! This auction is my only chance! If I don’t get it now, I never will!” Seeing Julian hesitate, she unleashed her ultimate weapon: whining. “Julian baby, you’re the best. Besides, she lit the Sky Lantern. She has to match the bid. It’s the rules.” The “rules” of the System. If I didn’t follow them, the consequences would likely be fatal. Since I lit the Sky Lantern, they knew I couldn’t back out. Julian nodded. I laughed, mocking Sarah. “Everyone knows a bid has to be higher in value than the last. But you, Sarah Snow… your looks, body, height—all inferior to me. Your family wealth and connections—inferior. Your IQ is practically non-existent. Do you really think your life is worth more than mine?” “What did you say?!” Sarah looked ready to attack me. But the Auctioneer nodded in agreement. “As Ms. River said, Ms. Snow’s value is significantly lower than Ms. River’s. The bid is invalid.” Sarah was furious, stomping and demanding Julian fix it. Julian panted, conflicted. Finally, he gritted his teeth, grabbing Sarah’s hand. “Then I’ll add my life to the pot! Is that enough?” Instantly, the Auctioneer presented life-and-death contracts. Sarah and I signed without hesitation. Julian hesitated, then signed his name with a savage stroke. He threw the pen down, looking manic. “Now! How will you match that? Don’t forget, you lit the Sky Lantern! If you don’t win, I guarantee you’ll suffer.” I was stripped bare of assets. I had nothing left of value. Was I going to lose? Suddenly, Sarah spoke up. “How about this? Bet your SAT score. I remember the Ivy League admissions office contacted you. A perfect score is basically guaranteed. Bet 1600 points. That should be enough.” I looked at the Auctioneer. He nodded. “Betting test scores?” “Can a score even transfer to Sarah?” “Sarah, maybe let it go?” Whispers filled the room, but Sarah ignored them, taunting me. “Well? It’s the last valuable thing you have, you stray dog. Dare to bet it?” I almost laughed out loud. I was waiting for this line! In this life, I didn’t take the SATs! The admissions office contacted me because I had already been accepted via early action based on my Olympiad wins! I didn’t have a 1600 score to give. Let’s see how you handle a zero. “I bet it! I bet 1600 points!” The moment I bid, Sarah waved her hand, relieved. “I fold. Sister Evelyn, the photos are yours. But your money, your company, your score, and even your life… are now mine! Hahahaha!” Sarah laughed at the sky like a victor, looking like a lunatic to everyone else. Going once… “Evelyn River, your family was kind to me once. I’m fair. If you strip naked, kowtow to me, and promise to be my dog, maybe I’ll spare your parents,” Julian said excitedly. I treated his words like barking. I stared at the gavel. Almost there… Going twice… “Boys! You can play with this bitch anytime you want! Free of charge! Film it! She wants to act like a saint? I’ll rip that mask right off!” Jeers erupted again. Someone reached for my skirt. I slapped his hand away, eyes glued to the gavel, sweat slicking my palms. Julian was ecstatic. “Haha, you think you’re still the high-and-mighty Miss River? You’re a slave now! Everything you have is mine!” My heart felt like it was being squeezed by a giant hand. If I miscalculated, my life was over. Finally, the gavel came down for the third time. Sold! Under their triumphant gazes, the Auctioneer spoke slowly. “Congratulations to the winner of the private photos—Ms. Sarah Snow!” The color drained from Julian and Sarah’s faces. “What?! I won?!” “Impossible! Absolutely impossible!!”

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1 “Congratulations, Jacob.” I stood at the entrance of the hotel ballroom, my eyes fixed on the sea of red balloons inside. “Happy wedding day.” With a deliberate motion, I set the funeral wreath down on the polished floor. It was a stark circle of white chrysanthemums, draped with a black satin ribbon. Inscribed on it were the words: May You Rest in Peace, Jacob. The bride shrieked. The color drained from the groom’s face. I smiled, pulling out my phone. “Don’t worry. The police will be here any minute.” The maximum sentence for bigamy is two years. And he and I? We hadn’t even torn up our marriage certificate yet. Three days earlier. I was organizing Jacob’s suitcase. He’d told me he was heading to Seattle for a week-long business trip. As I straightened a suit jacket, a small card slipped from the pocket. A hotel reservation confirmation. The location wasn’t Seattle. It was Savannah. And the date was for three days from now. I kept searching. Tucked into a shirt pocket was a photograph. I picked it up, and the blood rushed to my head. Two people smiled back at me. Jacob, and a woman I’d never seen before. He was in a tuxedo, she was in a wedding gown. The background was unmistakable: the grand steps of City Hall. I flipped the photo over. A single line was written on the back: March 15, 2024, Savannah. This year. We’ve been married for eight years. We are not divorced. I took a deep, shuddering breath and placed the photo back where I’d found it, zipping the suitcase shut just as Jacob walked out of the bathroom. “All packed?” he asked, his voice as normal as ever. “All set.” I looked at him—at that square jaw, the strong brows, the wide, honest eyes that had made me fall for him all those years ago. He was thirty-five, the very picture of dependability. “Honey, this trip might take a little longer than I thought,” he said, his tone casual. “How long?” “A week, maybe a bit more. It’s a complicated project.” He hoisted the suitcase. At the door, he turned back. “Take care of Lily for me.” Lily. Our six-year-old daughter. “I will.” The door clicked shut. In that same instant, I pulled out my phone and opened the tracking app. Yes, I’d installed one on his phone a long time ago. Last year, when his “business trips” became more and more frequent. I told myself it was just for peace of mind. Turns out, a woman’s gut feeling is never wrong. The tracker showed him on the way to the airport. It was time to get to work. I opened my laptop and logged into our joint bank account. I had the password to his salary account; in eight years of marriage, he’d never changed it. I pulled up the transaction history, my eyes scanning line by line. March 15, 2024. Wire Transfer to Ava Monroe. $10,000. Memo: Wedding Expenses. My hand started to tremble. I kept scrolling down. January 2024. Wire Transfer to Ava Monroe. $6,000. December 2023. Wire Transfer to Ava Monroe. $6,000. November 2023. Wire Transfer to Ava Monroe. $6,000. … I scrolled all the way to the beginning. The transfers started in June of 2021. Four thousand dollars. Every. Single. Month. For three years. That was over $150,000. Jacob’s monthly take-home pay was $8,000. Mine was $5,000. Our mortgage was $4,000 a month. Lily’s private school was another $1,500. I covered all the household expenses. He always told me he could never seem to save any money. Now I knew where it had all gone. I took screenshots of everything. Then I checked his PayPal and Cash App. Another forty thousand dollars in transfers. The grand total was nearly $200,000. Eight years of marriage. I paid for our life, while he paid for another woman’s. I laughed. It was a brittle, broken sound that ended in a sob. Wiping my tears, I kept digging. I found an “Ava Monroe” in his contacts, labeled as “Seattle Client.” I found her on Instagram. Her profile was private, but her latest post wasn’t. It was a professional wedding photo. The caption read: Finally found my forever. Here’s to the rest of our lives. The location tag: Savannah Bridal Photography. I slammed my phone down on the table. Breathe. Stay calm, I told myself. This isn’t the time to fall apart. I picked up the phone and called my cousin, Sarah. She’s a lawyer. “Sarah, I need your help.” “What’s wrong?” “My husband… he married another woman.” Three seconds of dead silence on the other end. “Are you sure?” “I have a picture. Taken at City Hall.” “Okay. Don’t do anything. Don’t touch a thing. I’m on my way.” Twenty minutes later, Sarah was sitting at my kitchen table, looking over the mountain of evidence I’d collected. She finally looked up, her expression grim. “Cathy, what do you want to do?” “I want him in jail,” I said, my voice cold and steady. Sarah nodded. “Bigamy carries a sentence of up to two years. But…” she paused, “you’ll need more than this. This photo proves they had a ceremony, but not that they filed a legal marriage certificate.” “How do I get that?” “You’d have to check the county records. But you can’t, since you aren’t one of the parties.” I thought for a moment. “Her name is Ava Monroe.” “Do you know her social security number?” “No.” Sarah’s brow furrowed. “Okay, look. I have a friend who’s a PI. I can have him run her name, see what comes up.” “Do it.” She made a quick call. After hanging up, she looked at me again. “There’s one more thing you need to prepare for.” “What?” “Start looking at your assets. The house, the cars, savings. If he really committed bigamy, splitting everything is going to get very, very messy.” My heart sank. The house. The deed was in Jacob’s name. When we bought it, the down payment was $150,000. I put in $90,000, he put in $60,000. But he’d said putting it in his name alone would make getting the mortgage easier. I’d agreed. God, I was such a fool. “Also,” Sarah added, “you can’t let him know you’re onto him. Act like everything is normal.” “I know.” I stared out the window. Night had fallen. Jacob’s tracker showed him in Savannah. The Seattle business trip was a complete lie. The hotel reservation he’d booked was for three days from now. Three days. His wedding day. With another woman. Something else clicked in my memory. Last Christmas. Jacob had said he had a work emergency and had to go back to the office the day after Christmas. I took Lily to my parents’ house. A couple of days later, my mother-in-law called me. “Cathy, dear,” she’d said, “Jacob mentioned you two went to Hawaii for the holiday?” I knew something was off, but I didn’t push it. I just replied, “Yes, it was a company trip.” I didn’t want to air our dirty laundry in front of his mother. Now I knew. He wasn’t at work that Christmas. He was in Savannah. Spending the holidays with her. While I was at my parents’ house, waiting like an idiot for his calls. My phone buzzed. It was a text from Jacob. Hey honey, made it to Seattle. Hotel is great. Don’t worry about me. His words were so tender. Okay. Get some rest, I typed back. Then I hung up and stared at the glowing dot on my screen. Savannah, Georgia. I let out another humorless laugh. 2 The next day, Sarah’s PI friend sent over his findings. Ava Monroe, 29, resident of Savannah. Unemployed. She owned a condo in her name. A nice one, in a gated community downtown. The property was registered in May 2022. Purchase price: $500,000. Paid in full. Cash. I did the math. From January to May of 2022, Jacob had transferred over $150,000 to her. Where did the rest come from? I checked Jacob’s 401(k) records. In April 2022, there was a hardship withdrawal of $100,000. He’d told me he was using it to pay down our mortgage. I’d believed him. Now I knew it was to help his mistress buy her half-a-million-dollar condo. $150,000 from his salary, $100,000 from his retirement fund. That still left a $250,000 gap. I logged into his brokerage account. March 2022. He’d sold a large block of stock, cashing out $260,000. That was our joint investment account. Our money. He told me the stock had tanked and he’d sold it at a huge loss. He’d lied. He cashed it out to buy a home for his mistress. I saved every document, every screenshot. I made three copies. One on the cloud, one for Sarah, and one on a flash drive that I locked away at my parents’ house. “There’s still one piece missing,” Sarah told me. “What?” “The marriage certificate. You absolutely have to get a copy of their certificate or the official record from the county clerk’s office.” “How?” “Their wedding day. Find a way into their hotel room during the chaos and look for it.” I considered it. “And if I can’t find it?” “Then you call the police. Let them get a warrant for the records.” “But I’d need evidence to file a report—” “You have the photo from City Hall,” Sarah reminded me. “It’s enough to open an investigation. Once the police are involved, they can subpoena the marriage records.” I nodded slowly. “One last question,” I said. “What is it?” “Should I tell his mother?” Sarah studied my face. “Do you want to?” I was silent for a long moment. My mother-in-law, Martha, had always been decent to me. But she adored her son. Last year, when Jacob wanted a new car, Martha gave him $20,000 without a second thought. When I was pregnant and suffering from terrible morning sickness, she’d just said, “Every woman goes through this. Just tough it out.” During the month I was on bed rest in the hospital, she never visited once. “No,” I said finally. “I won’t tell her.” Sarah nodded in approval. “Good. Don’t say a word. If she’s the type to protect her baby boy at all costs, she’ll tip him off, and you’ll lose your advantage.” I moved on to the next phase of my plan. The wedding was the day after tomorrow. I’d already found the venue online. A five-star hotel in Savannah’s historic district. A grand ballroom. The online RSVP list had over a hundred guests. The bride’s family, the groom’s family— Wait. The groom’s family? I scanned the guest list again. There was one name under the groom’s party. Martha Miller. That was my mother-in-law’s name. My hands started to shake. His mother knew? His mother was attending their wedding? Suddenly, I remembered. Last week, Martha had told me she was going to visit relatives in Savannah. She’d said she’d be gone for a week. She wasn’t visiting relatives. She was here to attend her son’s second wedding. I laughed. This time, the tears flowed freely. Eight years. I had served this family for eight years. When Martha was sick, I took time off work to care for her. I bought gifts for every holiday, every birthday. I was the one who handled our daughter’s school, her doctor’s appointments, everything. And this was my reward? She was celebrating at her son’s wedding to his mistress. What was I? A joke? I wiped my eyes, my resolve hardening into something sharp and cold. I picked up my phone and dialed her number. “Hi, Martha. How are you enjoying your trip to Savannah?” “Oh, it’s lovely, dear. My cousins are taking such good care of me,” she chirped, her voice perfectly normal. Not a hint of guilt. “That’s wonderful. When are you coming back? Lily misses you.” “In a couple of days. You just take good care of Lily, okay?” “Of course, Martha.” I ended the call. Fine. They’re a family. Then they can go down together.

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I am the most snobbish heiress in high society. When my impoverished fiancé came knocking at my door, my maid’s daughter tried her hardest to persuade me to break off the engagement. Just as I was about to agree, text floated before my eyes: [Lol, the heroine is so scheming. She tricked the heiress into breaking off the engagement while privately helping the male lead, just because she knows he’ll become the world’s richest man.] [The male lead values loyalty and righteousness above all. Remembering her kindness, he married the heroine, making her one of the most prestigious women globally.] [Meanwhile, the heiress went bankrupt, had to sell her body to pay debts, and was eventually played to death!] I was shocked, then furious. No one is allowed to steal my chance at unimaginable wealth! So, under the maid’s daughter’s gnashing teeth and glare, I urgently called out to the male lead who was about to leave in disappointment: “I can let you stay by my side, but you must swear eternal loyalty to me!” 1 Just moments ago, my fiancé from an arranged childhood engagement, a country boy, showed up at my door. He stood over six feet tall but wore ill-fitting joggers—the cuffs were inches too short, exposing his pale, thin ankles. Below that, a pair of white canvas shoes scrubbed until they were fraying. They looked ancient. Disdain filled my heart. My gaze moved up, landing back on the boy’s uneasy face. “What did you just say?” “I…” My airy question put immense pressure on him. He nervously tugged at the hem of his shirt, struggling to repeat himself. “I-I want to ask you to sponsor me to finish high school, for the sake of… our childhood engagement.” “In the future… I’ll find a way to pay you back.” Finished, he quickly lowered his eyes, radiating dejection like a stray dog awaiting judgment from its master. Before I could speak, my personal maid, Hailey, leaned in to whisper: “Miss, I told you, this so-called childhood engagement is worthless.” “Coming here to ask for money before even officially getting engaged, who knows how greedy he’ll be later.” “Unlike Young Master Julian, who always thinks of you.” “You can take this chance to break off the engagement with the old master. Then he’ll have no reason to stop you from being with Julian.” I agreed wholeheartedly and was about to speak along those lines when text suddenly floated before my eyes. [Poor male lead. Finally mustered the courage to ask the heiress for help, unaware that only rejection awaits him.] [The male lead is proud and aloof. If not for desperation, he would never use the engagement as a bargaining chip for money.] [Lol, the heroine is so scheming. She tricked the heiress into breaking off the engagement while privately helping the male lead, just because she knows he’s a dragon in hiding, planning to use this favor later.] [Meanwhile, the heiress went bankrupt, had to sell her body to pay debts, and was eventually played to death!] 2 In that moment, I was horrified, but mostly found it absurd. Me, Scarlett Sterling, the most profit-driven heiress in New York’s elite circles. The text said I would be played by a little maid and meet a tragic end. Are you kidding me? But as soon as this thought appeared, the text refreshed: [In this novel, my favorite character is the heiress. Ambitious, self-centered, exactly the kind of strong female lead I like.] [The heroine exploited this very trait to successfully steal her destiny with the male lead.] [Otherwise, the wife of the world’s richest man would have been the heiress.] I stared dead at the words “world’s richest man,” my shock turning into towering rage. A mere maid wants to steal my chance to become the richest woman in America? Absolutely not! Hailey finished whispering and turned to the boy, looking down on him: “My lady only talks business, not sentiment.” “As for the engagement, do you think my lady cares? It was just a joke between the older generation.” “If you have any shame left, leave quickly. Don’t stand here like a beggar.” Hailey’s attitude was nasty. But her words conveyed my own arrogance. The boy, already insecure, felt even more humiliated. He clenched his fists tight, burying his head as he prepared to leave. Just then, I called out urgently, “Stop!” 3 I rose slowly from the sofa, walking straight towards the boy, my gaze sharp and scrutinizing. Radiating an aura that said I wasn’t to be messed with. Seeing this, Hailey thought I was going to deal with him and continued to ruin my image in front of him. “You wouldn’t leave when told. Now you’ve provoked the lady herself, you won’t have it easy.” She stared at me intently, expecting me to humiliate the boy thoroughly. So she could play the role of the confidante comforting his wounded soul later, gaining favor. Unfortunately, I didn’t give her that chance. I approached the boy and said: “I can agree to your request, even cover all your college expenses, but I have one condition.” Hailey’s face froze. “Miss, you…” I ignored her shock, staring coldly at the boy’s back, waiting for his choice. “What is it?” He didn’t turn around, clearly hopeless. The next second, he heard me say: “I hate disloyal people.” “You take my money, you belong to me.” “You must be dead set on me for life, never betray or disobey.” “Otherwise—I will show no mercy!” My attitude was arrogant, my tone threatening. But the boy accepted without hesitation, swearing an oath: “I swear to be loyal to you for life, never betray or disobey.” “Otherwise, let me die without a burial place.” [Don’t know why the plot changed, but the heiress is so prescient.] [The male lead’s moral standards are ridiculously high. Once promised, he will honor it for life.] I glanced at the text, withdrew my gaze with satisfaction, and ordered the butler: “Take him down and get him settled.” I watched Lucas leave, but Hailey’s dissatisfied voice rang in my ear: “Miss, keeping Lucas here, have you thought about how to explain it to Young Master Julian? You just accepted his advances.” “Even if you do whatever you want, you shouldn’t be so fickle!” She looked indignant, her eyes clearly condemning me. I wasn’t angry, asking calmly: “Who do you think you are? Daring to tell me what to do.” A light sentence instantly silenced Hailey. She looked suffocated, as if she had swallowed a fly. [Great! The heiress roasted her. I couldn’t stand her for a long time.] [The heroine’s whole family relies on the heiress for a superior life, yet she plays tricks behind her back. What’s the difference between her and an ingrate?] [Right! We don’t need a heroine with twisted values.] The comments cheered. I curved my lips, leaving happily, leaving Hailey alone to glare resentfully at my back. 4 Hailey is the daughter of my family’s maid, yet she has lived and eaten with me since childhood. Enjoying treatment far above ordinary people. All because her father stepped forward to save me when I was in danger. I was safe. But he became a paraplegic. Looking at him dying in the hospital bed, I asked: “How do you want me to repay you?” Her father said: “I ask for nothing else, only that my wife and daughter never have to worry about food and clothing.” Only then did I know— Her father shielded me from death without hesitation because he was already terminally ill. He resolutely used his life to gamble for a bright future for his wife and daughter. Facts proved he succeeded. With this life-saving grace as a shield, even knowing Hailey had ulterior motives through the text, I couldn’t discard her easily. Otherwise, I would face severe public criticism. Hailey clearly knew this too. The next day she came to apologize. “Miss, I was wrong. I shouldn’t have spoken to you in that tone yesterday.” Hailey seemed sincere, as if regretting deeply. In the past, I would have let it slide. This time, I said lightly, “And?” “…And, I shouldn’t have presumed your intentions.” She said hesitantly. I denied it immediately, “Wrong.” Hailey’s face froze. I leaned forward, patting her face lightly, reminding her: “Hailey, although your father saved me, your identity is just a maid.” “In ancient times, that’s a servant. Servants have no right to question their masters.” “Who I like, who I choose, is it your place to dictate?”

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In the lavish hall of a nightclub, my heavily pregnant sister was shoved onto the stage. Below, men were red-faced, arguing over who fathered the child in her belly. “It’s definitely mine! I put in the most effort that night!” “Bullshit! I went the most rounds, the odds are in my favor!” My sister, pale and tearful, questioned the man beside her: “Lucas, you’re my fiancé. How could you treat me like this?” Lucas hugged the delicate girl in his arms and sneered, “You don’t even know whose seed you’re carrying, and you have the nerve to ask me?” The girl covered her mouth, giggling shyly but looking at my sister with triumph. Sitting in the audience, my eyes turned cold. I haven’t been back for a few years, and people dare to bully the Jiang family! … My assistant bowed and whispered, “Should I summon the club owner, Chase, to give you an explanation?” I scoffed coldly. “What’s the use of calling him? Get everyone ready!” “Yes.” The assistant quickly retreated. Dare to touch my sister? Tonight, no one leaves in one piece! 1 My sister’s voice trembled. “That night it was only you! How could I be pregnant with someone else’s child?!” Sophie, nestled in Lucas’s arms, laughed delicately. “Emily, you were drunk and shouting ‘one isn’t enough,’ dragging several men into the room. Don’t you remember?” My sister’s face turned white. “Impossible! Only Lucas was in the room…” Halfway through, she froze, staring dead at Lucas. “It was you… that glass of red wine… you drugged me?!” Lucas didn’t deny it, not even looking at my sister. He pulled a stack of photos from his pocket and scattered them on the stage. “Come on, place your bets! Whoever guesses right gets a bonus video of that hot night!” Cheers erupted from the audience. “That’s intense! Not even a stitch of clothing, clear as day!” “Hotter than a movie cover, just one look and I’m burning up!” Sophie picked one up, glanced at it with disgust, and tossed it aside. A photo drifted down in front of me. I picked it up. One look, and I saw red. These people are insane! Wait until I show them what happens when you mess with the Jiang family! The men below fought over my sister’s photos like hungry wolves, slamming cash onto the table, red-eyed as they placed bets, as if auctioning goods. I fingered my wine glass in the dark, watching this absurd gamble coldly. My assistant isn’t back yet. Just a little longer… “Bets closed!” The dealer’s voice cut through the noise. “Now, welcome the professionals to reveal the answer to this bet!” Several people in white coats rushed onto the stage with instruments, grabbing my sister’s arm without a word. A needle flashed, about to pierce her skin. “Get off!” My usually weak sister suddenly fought back. She broke free, scratching the person’s face. “Where’s Chase? Tell him to get out here! If I lose a single hair tonight, this dump closes tomorrow!” My sister screamed, and everyone burst into laughter. Sophie laughed so hard she trembled. “Oh my, our Miss Jiang is still dreaming?” She suddenly yanked my sister’s hair, whispering in her ear: “You forgot, Chase is my biological brother. He bankrupted the Jiang family long ago. Where did you get the guts to scream here?” I had already moved to the edge of the stage, ready to rescue my sister, but my heart skipped a beat. Chase’s sister? The Jiang family bankrupted? Why didn’t I know? Lucas pulled Sophie into his arms. “Why waste words on her?” He turned to the white coats. “Hurry up, don’t waste time!” Just as the needle tip touched my sister’s skin, the dealer beside them turned pale. He suddenly shouted: “Stop!” 2 Everyone was startled, and I stopped my movement. Trembling, he pulled a jade seal from my sister’s waist, cold sweat soaking his back. “The… The Cloud Water Seal?!” In shock, he pressed the highest-priority button on the club phone. “Mr. Chen, the Cloud Water Seal has appeared. Please come verify its authenticity!” Lucas’s face sank, and even Sophie in his arms went silent. Chase, the “Mr. Chen” they spoke of, was just an adopted son of my father. By age, he’d have to call me Big Sister. Knowing this was his turf, my tense nerves relaxed slightly. I waited for my assistant, calm on the surface. Soon, Chase’s personal secretary, Bella, arrived. “Mr. Chen will be here shortly. Let me assess the situation first!” Just as her finger touched the seal, Sophie in Lucas’s arms laughed again. “Coincidence! I have this broken thing too!” She pulled a brocade box from her purse. When the box popped open, the crowd gasped. Two Cloud Water Seals, identical. “Hers has a crack!” Sophie’s red lips parted. “It’s a fake.” My sister cried out urgently, “My sister gave this to me personally! How could it be fake?” “I am Jane Jiang’s biological sister!” As soon as she finished, Sophie laughed. “I’ve lived in the Jiang house for years and never saw you having a sister. You’re a habitual liar, inventing a sister now!” Bella examined the seal, respectfully returned Sophie’s, and picked up where Sophie left off. “Jane Jiang?” Bella sneered, as if hearing a joke. “Never heard of her.” “Since the real Cloud Water Seal is with Miss Sophie, we can’t interfere with this Ms. Jiang’s affairs. Carry on.” With that, Bella stood aside, acting as if it was none of her business. The men exploded: “Test her! I bet ten grand it’s my kid!” “After the test, we’ll take turns tasting her.” The men were like flies to blood. Some even started undoing their belts. “I’m raising my bet! Test her, then I’m diving in!” The white coats pinned my sister down again. The needle flashed, aiming straight for her pale skin. My assistant still hadn’t returned, but I couldn’t wait any longer. “Stop!” I leaped onto the stage, kicking over the metal instrument tray. Bella’s pupils shrank. “Who’s this crazy woman, daring to wreck Mr. Chen’s place?!” I smiled coldly. “Jiang family, Jane Jiang.” 3 Dead silence. But the silence lasted only a second. “Hahaha—” The hall erupted in deafening laughter. Some even laughed tears. “Jane Jiang? You?” “That’s the legendary figure who could shake up the capital! No news for years, why would she be here?” Sophie clutched her stomach, laughing hysterically. “Emily, which theater troupe did you hire this actor from? Pretty convincing performance!” Lucas frowned, looking at me with disgust. “Emily, get this impostor out of here. Aren’t you embarrassed enough?” My sister clung to me, eyes filled with disbelief and excitement. Veins popped on my forehead as I suppressed my rage: “When Chase arrives, the truth will be clear!” I shielded my sister behind me, eyes sharp as knives. “Before then, anyone who dares touch a hair on her head loses a hand!” Sophie covered her mouth, mocking: “Oh, still acting? If Jane Jiang really traveled, she’d have an entourage. How could she be alone?” I glanced at my bodyguard team squeezed into the corner, a sneer forming on my lips. “Let Chase come out and speak! I want to ask if he still respects me as his big sister?” Bella narrowed her eyes, assessing me, a sneer on her red lips: “Who do you think you are? Daring to call Mr. Chen by his first name? You really don’t know your place!” She slowly twisted the jade bracelet on her wrist, voice dropping: “Men, take her down!” “I want to see just how much you weigh!” Several burly men grinned greedily, voices full of malicious teasing. “Yes! Sister Bella, I’ll strip her clean and weigh her inside and out for you!” Their hands reached for us sisters. I slapped the first one across the face. “Insolent! Do you want to die?! Do you know the consequences of touching me?” The man’s head snapped to the side. His eyes turned vicious, and he choked me. “Bitch, think you’re something?” “Today I’ll teach you the rules in front of everyone!” Laughter erupted around us. Men closed in maliciously; some pulled out phones to record. My sister cried and tried to rush over but was grabbed by the hair by Sophie and shoved to the ground. “Emily, where did you find this person? Is she brain damaged, daring to act wild here?” “You act innocent, Miss High-and-Mighty, but who knows whose seed is in your belly!” Sophie slapped my sister, drawing blood from her lip. I kicked the man beside me away to save her, but strong arms pinned me down. My bodyguards were blocked by the chaotic crowd, unable to move. “Tsk tsk, the impostor is addicted to acting?” Sophie stepped on my sister’s chin with her heel. “Kneel and kowtow three times, and maybe I’ll ask Secretary Bella to let your fake sister go.” My sister looked at Lucas with tears, voice trembling: “Lucas, she really is my sister. If you hurt her, you’ll all regret it…” Lucas adjusted his cuffs indifferently, looking at her like trash: “If not for you, where would this trouble come from? Apologize to Sophie now.” “Kowtow! Or we strip her now!” Men reached for my collar, grinning. “I’ll kowtow!” My sister’s knees hit the marble floor hard. She pressed her forehead to the cold stone. “Please, don’t touch my sister…” I watched her slam her head again and again. Each thud felt like a knife carving out a piece of my heart. My assistant was late, the bodyguards at the door strangely silent. Something was wrong. Bella looked at my exquisite face, envy flashing in her eyes. She pulled out a scalpel, pressing the blade against my face. “Such a pretty face. Wonder if Mr. Chen will recognize it if I carve it up?” “Don’t touch my sister!” My sister struggled. “Chase will make you wish you were dead!” “Think you’re still the Jiang heiress? Too bad the Jiang family hasn’t been surnamed Jiang for a long time.” Mocking my sister, Bella pressed the blade into my face. Warm blood trickled down my neck. Just as she was about to cut again. The main doors crashed open. Chase entered with a team. His gaze swept over my sister’s bloody forehead and the cut on my face. The atmosphere instantly dropped to freezing. 4 “Chase,” my sister’s eyes lit up, “tell them to release my sister!” Chase’s gloomy gaze swept the room, landing on Bella: “What’s going on?” Bella immediately put on a wronged expression. “Brother Chase, look. This woman brought a fake to impersonate your sister.” Chase looked at my sister, eyes full of disgust: “Emily, when will you stop making trouble? Sophie gives in everywhere, but you push your luck?” “Give in?” My sister trembled with rage. “They humiliated me publicly, called my sister’s seal fake, and you say I’m pushing my luck?” “You promised my sister you’d take care of me! Now you help an outsider bully me?” “Outsider?” Sophie smugly linked arms with Chase. “I’m his biological sister! Who are you?” Face covered in blood, I stared coldly at Chase. He only cared about comforting Sophie. My sister pointed at me urgently. “My sister is back. How will you explain this to her?” Chase finally looked at me. Seeing my face, surprise flashed in his eyes, but he quickly returned to coldness: “Emily, your sister died long ago. Hiring a double to act is boring.” I couldn’t help but scoff. The dog I raised learned to bite when the master wasn’t looking. “Chase, you’ve really grown impressive!” Hearing the familiar voice, Chase’s pupils shrank violently, Adam’s apple bobbing. He lifted my chin with trembling fingers, examining me closely for a long time, eyes filled with thick, unmelting emotion. Finally, he touched the wound on my face lightly and sighed deeply. “This face is truly alike… Pity. Without this scar, I could have let you follow me.” His face carried sorrow, as if remembering someone he loved but couldn’t have through me. “But now, it’s useless.” “Even if you look like her, what’s the point? She’s gone…” He closed his eyes. “Bella, handle it.” Bella smiled mockingly, looking at me like a joke. She snapped her fingers. Several burly men tore at my collar. My sister was roughly pressed onto the gambling table, chips scattering. At that moment, the gilded doors of the hall collapsed with a loud bang. My assistant stood against the light, a dark mass of people flooding in behind him like a tide. Face bruised, he said apologetically, “Sorry, Miss. Ran into… a delay on the way.”

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1 My twin sister offered to help me get the attention of the guy I was secretly in love with. Instead, she started dating him. Later, when my sister was diagnosed with end-stage kidney failure, I refused to be her donor. I said no in front of our parents and him. … At my sister’s funeral, my parents each slapped me across the face. Bernard stood to the side, his silence deafening, his eyes burning with a hatred that could sear a soul. I knew they all despised me. They hated me for not saving Kathryn. Hated me for sealing my own sister’s fate. I can still feel the suffocating joy that filled her hospital room the day the compatibility results came in. The room buzzed with it. My mother clutched my father, thanking God through her tears. Bernard’s eyes were red with relief. But I refused. “Kathryn is your sister, Kelen! You’d really just stand by and watch her die?” “You grew up together! You’re flesh and blood!” “We’re begging you, on our knees, please, save your sister!” “You heartless, selfish girl!” … In those days, the scorn and confusion of everyone around me felt like a wave trying to pull me under. Bernard even came to me, his voice tight. “Why won’t you save her?” I just glanced at him, saying nothing. The resentment in his eyes was a physical thing before he turned and walked away. The year after Kathryn died, I left the country and never looked back. I heard Bernard also left for college, preparing to take over his family’s corporation after graduation. It didn’t matter. I deliberately built a wall around that part of my life, blocking out everything about my family. About Kathryn, about Bernard, about my parents. I pretended to forget, forced it all down. I tricked myself into believing it was all just a bad dream. Hiding in the fragile utopia I’d constructed for myself, I became a surgeon. I used to be squeamish, terrified of blood. I endured so much ridicule and doubt during my first year of med school. Looking back, I have no idea how I pushed through. But I had to win the scholarship; it was my only lifeline. My parents, consumed by their hatred for me, weren’t sending a dime. Those years abroad were a blur of endless work and study. After clawing my way through hell, I finally became a top surgeon at a renowned hospital in the city. After a grueling two-week stretch at the hospital, I stumbled out, my hair a mess, ready to collapse at home. And there he was, standing right in my path, as if he’d been waiting forever. Bernard. “Marry me,” he said. 2 I was always the quiet one. Growing up, the only person I ever really talked to was my sister, Kathryn. So when I realized I had a crush on Bernard, I panicked. The only person I could tell was her. It happened during the first lunch of freshman year. The high school cafeteria was a chaotic sea of bodies, and I got separated from Kathryn. Someone shoved me hard in the throng, and I stumbled backward, falling right into Bernard’s arms. I scrambled to my feet, my face instantly flushing hot the moment I saw him. That night, huddled in my bed, I whispered my secret to Kathryn. She was a hundred times more excited than I was. “Oh my God, you like Bernard?!” “Shhh! Keep your voice down! It’s just a little crush!” “Just a little crush? That’s Bernard! He was crowned the king of our school the day he walked in, and he’s a genius. Wow, Kelen, you sure know how to pick ’em.” “Stop teasing me.” Kathryn and I were complete opposites. She was a vibrant, sunlit field; I was a quiet, shaded corner. She wanted to be a doctor; I wanted to be an artist. Her effortless brightness was a language I could never learn to speak. Who wouldn’t fall for a girl like Kathryn? Including Bernard. … I stared at Bernard, completely bewildered. It had been so long. The man standing before me was a stranger. His hair was slicked back perfectly, his suit immaculate. A pair of thin, gold-rimmed glasses rested on his nose. The golden boy who once ruled our high school hallways now looked every bit the corporate executive. But none of that mattered. The day Kathryn was buried, I buried my own foolish, girlish heart with her. The only thing that mattered right now was the insane proposition hanging in the air. He wanted to marry me. “Bernard, do you have any idea what you’re saying?” “I do.” “What do you know? Marry me? You’re insane.” “I’m not insane,” he said calmly. “I’ve already spoken to your parents.” “What?” “They’re waiting for us at home. I’ve already bought the plane tickets.” Taking leave, boarding the plane, landing… As we stepped out of the airport, my mind was still a fog. I didn’t know how I’d let him drag me all the way back to my hometown. The car turned onto streets I no longer recognized, and it hit me. I had been away for a very, very long time. My parents’ reaction was exactly as I expected. “Uncle, Auntie, I want to marry Kelen.” “Absolutely not! Bernard, how could you do this to Kathryn’s memory? Did Kelen force you into this?” Of course. In their eyes, I would forever be the monster who killed their perfect daughter. “This is what Kathryn wanted.” Bernard took a deep breath, and his next words stunned the entire room into silence. 3 “Kelen, I found your love letters under your pillow!” “Kathryn, why were you going through my things!” “I didn’t mean to! But honestly, why write them if you’re just going to hide them?” “I… I’m scared. So many girls like him. It wouldn’t make a difference.” “Who cares what anyone else thinks? Just give them to him!” “No, I can’t.” “Why not? You have to be brave!” But I wasn’t Kathryn. I didn’t have that kind of courage. Those letters were my secret world, written in the stolen moments between studying. They were dreams I spun for myself, a sweet comfort only for me. They had nothing to do with him. I couldn’t bear the thought of him knowing, of him seeing me. A shining star like him belonged with someone just as dazzling. Not with someone as insecure and timid as me. The next day, I noticed the letters were gone from under my pillow. My heart leaped into my throat. I cautiously asked my parents, but they hadn’t seen anything. My fear turned to a single name. Kathryn. It had to be her. When she told me, grinning, that she had delivered all my letters to Bernard, my world collapsed. It felt like being thrown into a bottomless pit of darkness. All those secret, tender feelings were ripped out into the open, as if I’d been stripped naked in the middle of the street. Shame and rage burned through me. … Bernard pulled a journal from his bag. I recognized it instantly. It was Kathryn’s favorite, the one she carried everywhere. She loved to document everything, writing in it every single day. When Kathryn got sick and then passed away, my parents’ hatred was a wall that kept me from everything that was hers, including her belongings. I never thought I’d see that journal again, and here it was, in Bernard’s hands. “After Kathryn… passed, I was so busy with the company. I never really went through her things properly,” Bernard said softly, his fingers tracing the worn cover as he opened it. I could see the grief still etched on his face. Of course. How could he ever forget the girl he loved so much? He began to read excerpts, his voice a low murmur recounting the little moments Kathryn had captured. My parents were openly weeping. I fought back my own tears, clamping my jaw shut. I had no right to cry. But my heart felt like it was being pierced by a thousand tiny needles. Much of that journal was filled with things we did together. While I was buried in textbooks, she’d be on her bed, sketching and writing. She would always ask me how my day was. Most of the time, my mood was just… flat. So she would draw a little, multi-colored sun next to my name to cheer me up. This journal, this time capsule of our sisterhood, was now in his hands. The colors had faded, the pages yellowed with age. He must have read it countless times over the years. Bernard’s voice cracked as he turned to the final, tear-stained page. He took a shaky breath. “Kathryn’s last entry, her final wish, was for Bernard and Kelen to get married.” And just like that, the dam I had built inside me shattered. The tears I’d held back for so long finally broke free, streaming down my face.

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