Category: English

Six months after I broke up with Ethan, we got back together. I noticed he’d changed. The once rugged, no-frills guy now had a full-blown skincare routine. After we moved in together, he even started sitting down to use the toilet, something he’d learned was more considerate. He’d surprise me with gifts—delicate, lacey things I’d never seen him pick out before. One night, I teased him about it. “What happened to you? It’s only been six months and you’ve transformed into the perfect boyfriend.” He was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “I had a good teacher.” 1 In the bridal shop, my mother beamed as she held up another wedding dress for my approval. “You and Ethan, after all this back and forth, you finally found your way back to each other,” she said, her voice filled with warmth. “Promise me you two will make it work this time. No more fighting, no more breakups.” I stared at my reflection in the full-length mirror, a stranger in white, and felt a wave of uncertainty wash over me. Ethan and I had grown up together. I knew every line on his face, every flicker of emotion in his eyes. When he wet the bed at six, I was the one who helped him sneak the sheets into the wash in the middle of the night. When I got my first period at eleven and bled through my jeans, he was the one who, blushing furiously, ran to the store to buy me pads and a new pair of underwear. At twenty, we gave each other our firsts. But this time, after six months apart, it felt like I was living with a different person. My mom’s voice pulled me back to the present. “If you two hadn’t had that stupid fight, you’d be married by now. No more nonsense, you hear me? I’ve watched you two grow up. There’s no man on this earth who will ever love you more than Ethan.” “I know, Mom,” I said, forcing a smile and pushing down the strange feeling in my gut. “Don’t worry, we know what we’re doing. We’re going to get the marriage license in a few days.” 2 By the time I’d finished my makeup trial, Ethan was back. He was empty-handed. “Did you get the rings?” I asked, a little surprised. “Sorry,” he said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “My fault. I forgot to update my shipping address on my phone, so they sent them to the wrong place. It’ll be a few days before they get forwarded.” He tugged at the collar of his shirt, loosening it. As he did, a tattoo just above his collarbone peeked out. Leah. A sharp pain lanced through my chest, followed by a slow, creeping unease. I’d first noticed the new ink when he came back, but I hadn’t asked about it. I knew it had to be a woman’s name. We’d planned to pick up the rings today, and then I was going to put on the dress so he could film a mock proposal video for our wedding announcement. That was off the table now. “It’s fine,” I said, my voice lighter than I felt. “We haven’t set the date yet, so a few days doesn’t matter.” I met his eyes in the mirror. “Ethan, after I change, let’s go get that tattoo removed.” He froze for a second, then quickly masked it with a shrug of indifference. “Sure.” So, I changed out of the wedding dress and we went to the nearest laser removal clinic. He took off his shirt and lay down. The technician prepped the laser, making small talk. “Girlfriend’s name?” he asked with a chuckle. “Right on the collarbone, huh? That’s gotta be one of the most painful spots. Closest to the heart. You must really love her.” He squinted at the fresh ink. “Looks pretty new, too. Why the change of heart?” I was sitting on a chair nearby, and my hands tightened around my purse. I answered for him, my voice quiet. “It’s not my name.” The technician stopped, blinking at me. He hadn’t expected that. A flash of understanding crossed his face, followed by an awkward flush. He cleared his throat and went back to work without another word. 3 Ethan didn’t make a sound during the entire procedure, gritting his teeth through the pain. He didn’t offer an explanation on the way out, either. But I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I stopped on the sidewalk. “Ethan, who is Leah?” I asked softly. “Did you date someone else during the four and a half months we were fighting?” I had been biting my tongue for weeks, but the question finally escaped. We’d said we were broken up for six months, but I knew the exact number: 135 days. The Ethan I knew was rough around the edges. He never used scented lotions or face wash, complaining they were too “girly.” He wasn’t the type to buy lingerie. He certainly wouldn’t have taken the time to learn about female anatomy and figure out that him sitting to use the toilet was better for my hygiene. But since we’d gotten back together, I’d noticed all these little changes, these tiny habits that felt like they belonged to someone else. It was like living with the ghost of another woman. Ethan stopped, too. He opened his mouth, then closed it. Finally, he just nodded, a low grunt his only response. He stepped forward and took my hands, his gaze firm and resolute. “Catherine, listen to me,” he said, his voice earnest. “It’s over between us. It’s completely done. When we fought and broke up, I went on a bender… I was a mess… and I met her. But I want to marry you. I swear, I will never have anything to do with her again. You have to believe me.” A damp, heavy feeling settled in my chest. But we were about to get married. I’d known since I was a little girl that I was going to spend my life with him. So I nodded, choosing to believe him. 4 Back home, my phone was buzzing with congratulatory messages from our friends. They’d all been worried during our long fight and were thrilled we were finally getting married. Ethan went to the living room to ice the raw skin where the tattoo had been. I replied to our friends about the wedding date while I started unpacking his suitcase from his trip. He’d flown to another city during our fight. Tucked beneath a layer of clothes, I found a small notebook. I pulled it out and opened it without thinking. My hand started to tremble. The handwriting was his—that familiar, childish scrawl our teachers used to complain about. February 10th. Taped to the page was a small corner of a blood-stained bedsheet. Leah’s first time. A piece of the sheet. I was too drunk, too rough. I must have hurt her. March 1st. Taped next to it was a sanitary pad, still in its wrapper. The brand of pads Leah uses. Saw her sweating from the cramps. I wish I could take the pain for her. March 26th. A pregnancy test with two pink lines fell out from between the pages. Leah’s pregnancy test. She’s pregnant. But I was drinking that night, and I took some medication. We can’t keep the baby. I feel so guilty. This is my fault. … I had forged his handwriting to do his detention assignments countless times as a kid. No matter how messy his writing was, I could read every single word. My vision blurred with tears. I stayed there, crouched on the floor, for a long time, the notebook clutched in my frozen hands. Ethan walked in and saw what I was holding. His face went pale. He rushed over, snatched the notebook from my grasp, and pulled me up from the floor, leading me to the bed. 5 “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice laced with regret. “That must have gotten mixed in when I was packing. I completely forgot about it, or I would have thrown it away. I didn’t mean for you to see it and get upset. I’ll go toss it right now.” He threw the notebook aside as if it were contaminated. I didn’t understand. How could he have lived an entire lifetime with another person in just 135 days? A lifetime that included a child that never was. My throat felt like it was full of fish bones, caught and painful. I pushed him away, my eyes stinging. “Ethan, we had our fight on February 9th. You slept with another woman on the 10th.” We had twenty-five years of history between us. Even though we’d had a terrible fight, our families were already discussing wedding dates before I left. I never, ever imagined he could move on so seamlessly. He pulled me back into his arms, holding me so tight I could barely breathe. His voice was raw. “Catherine, I know anything I say right now will sound like an excuse, but I was drunk. It was a stupid, meaningless mistake.” “We’re about to get married,” he pleaded. “Can we please just leave the past in the past? Let’s not dredge up things that will only make us both miserable.” The next day, the wedding date was set. Ethan’s parents came over to help decorate. Our families had been next-door neighbors our whole lives, so their house was like a second home to me. They treated me like their own daughter. His mom pulled me down to sit beside her, her face wreathed in a loving smile. “Catherine, come here. I have waited so many years for this day, to finally have you as my daughter-in-law.” “This long fight between you and Ethan… it had your mother and me so worried. Promise me, from now on, no matter how much you two argue, you’ll never stay apart for so long again.” 6 Ethan looked over at me with a soft, adoring smile before turning to our parents. “It was my fault,” he declared. “I shouldn’t have stormed off like that. I promise, after we’re married, I’ll never fight with Catherine again. Whatever she says, goes. And if she’s wrong, it’s only because I was wrong first.” Just then, the doorbell rang. I was closest, so I got up to answer it. Standing on the doorstep was a young woman I didn’t recognize. I froze. From the living room, Ethan called out, “Catherine, who is it?” The woman looked to be in her early twenties, with a round, pale face. At the sound of Ethan’s voice, her eyes lit up. She peered eagerly past me toward the sound. She pulled a small ring box from her pocket. Her voice was sweet and delicate. “Hi, is this Ethan’s house? I’m his ex-girlfriend.” “He called me yesterday,” she explained. “The wedding rings he ordered were shipped to my address by mistake. I was worried he’d need them right away, so I took the train here this morning to bring them to him.” Ethan had walked over by then. When he saw who was at the door, he stopped dead. “…Leah? What are you doing here?” Her eyes instantly filled with tears. “You bastard, Ethan! I thought you’d changed your mind! I thought you were proposing to me when a ring box with your name on it showed up!” She started pounding on his chest, sobbing quietly. That’s when I noticed it. On her middle finger, she was wearing the women’s wedding band. The one I had picked out. My heart stuttered. A sour, suffocating feeling rose in my chest. 7 Ethan quickly ushered her outside, closing the door behind them. The house fell silent. My mother was the first to speak, her voice sharp with anger. “Who was that girl? What did she mean, she’s Ethan’s ex-girlfriend? You two have been together since high school. Where did an ‘ex’ come from?” Ethan’s parents looked mortified and utterly confused. I gently stopped my mom, who was about to storm outside, and shook my head. An hour and a half later, Ethan finally came back. He opened his palm to reveal the two wedding bands. He looked at me with a cautious, pleading expression. “Catherine, I got the rings back. Here, let me put yours on you. Let’s see if it fits.” He was too close. I could see that his lips were red and slightly swollen, with a small bite mark on the lower one. His crisp white shirt was rumpled. He slipped the ring onto my finger. It was too loose; it slid right off. I remembered with perfect, painful clarity how snugly it had fit on the other woman’s finger. “That was Leah, wasn’t it?” I asked, my voice flat. “The woman from the tattoo. What were you doing for an hour and a half, Ethan?” “Yes, it was her. Leah,” he admitted. “She took an overnight train just to bring us the rings. She’s all alone in the city, I couldn’t just leave her there. I took her to a hotel nearby.” As he spoke, he nervously adjusted his collar. The tattoo was faded, but still visible. And next to it, on his neck, were two fresh, red scratches. 8 Ethan had always had fair, sensitive skin. When we were kids and we’d roughhouse, I’d barely touch him and he’d be covered in red marks that took forever to fade. Our parents were always apologizing to his. After we were intimate, he would be covered in faint marks, as if I’d savaged him. I didn’t want to think about it anymore. I couldn’t. The wedding drew closer, and I started sending out the e-invites. I don’t know what Ethan’s mother got out of him, but she started treating me with an even greater mix of affection and guilt. That night, I could hear the shower running in the bathroom. “Catherine,” Ethan called out over the water, “can you grab my phone and send the invites to my contacts list? I don’t want to miss anyone for tomorrow.” I had just picked up his phone when a shopping ad popped up on the screen. I meant to swipe it away, but my finger slipped and opened it. It was an ad for lingerie. And then I saw it. His purchase history. My fingers went cold. Starting in February of this year, there was a long list of purchases: condoms of all kinds, lace teddies, stockings… all shipped to the same address. The one where the rings had been mistakenly sent. Leah’s home. I started shaking uncontrollably. For the first time in our lives, I went through his phone. In his photo album, I found dozens of pictures and videos of him and Leah. Two of them were of them in bed. In one, the girl’s face was flushed red, and she was crying, pushing him away weakly. “Ethan, no more… didn’t your old girlfriend satisfy you? You’re insatiable.” “Hush, Leah,” he had murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Just one more time, then we’ll sleep.”

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Leo and I were never anything special growing up. Just two perfectly ordinary kids from a perfectly ordinary town. But we both had big dreams. In high school, I set my sights on the handsome, popular rich kid, and he fell for the beautiful heiress. We clicked instantly, forming an alliance to help each other climb the social ladder. Years later, we’d made it. I was the girlfriend of Bob Thorne, CEO of the Thorne Group, and Leo was being vetted to marry into the Beaumont family, working at their company under the watchful eye of Vivian Beaumont herself. Life was smooth sailing for two years. Then, Leo and I hit the exact same roadblock. Bob’s childhood sweetheart came back from abroad. And Vivian’s old college flame returned home, too. 1 “Sigh…” Leo and I both rested our chins in our hands, a synchronized sigh escaping our lips. “What is it with living abroad?” Leo grumbled, completely baffled. “It’s like a factory for producing bombshells that drop back into your life out of nowhere.” “I’ve been by Vivian’s side for five whole years,” he continued, shaking his head. “I’ve traveled with her, shopped with her, worked with her. I’ve never once heard her mention some unforgettable ‘Ethan’ from college.” I nodded in solidarity. “Three years as Bob’s girlfriend, and I’ve met every friend and family member he has. Not a single peep about a childhood sweetheart named Isabelle.” Just as we were about to solidify our positions, these new rivals had appeared. This was our third strategy session. Life had definitely gotten harder since they’d returned. As if on cue, both our phones buzzed. We glanced down at our screens. “Isabelle stole another one of my design contracts,” I moaned. “I just don’t get it. She’s a jewelry designer. What is she doing poaching my interior design clients?” Leo, on the other hand, was unnervingly calm. “Ethan was brought in as a director. I’ve been reassigned. It was expected.” He was actually smiling. I stared at him. “Are you okay?” “It’s a good chance to take a break.” Leo’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Things at the company are a mess right now. Better to let him navigate the minefield.” I understood. The Beaumont family only had one daughter, and she had zero interest in running the business. The shareholders were ambitious, the internal politics were a snake pit. I’d been shocked when Leo first managed to gain a foothold there; I had no idea my old friend was so capable. “What about you?” he asked, finishing his iced tea and starting on a slice of cheesecake. “Anyone can see Isabelle is targeting you.” Me? I let out a small laugh. “She’s the darling princess everyone adores. All I can do is lie low and steer clear of the drama for now.” Besides, while Isabelle’s petty moves were an annoyance to my design studio, they weren’t a major blow. It had taken a mountain of effort, and finally leveraging my status as Bob’s girlfriend, to open my own studio in the first place. My first wave of clients all came from him—his circle of rich friends and business partners. He gave me a shot, and I ran with it. That’s how I got to where I am today. We both got our start through connections. It wouldn’t be fair for me to use them and then complain when his precious childhood sweetheart did the same. And if you really thought about it, Bob’s friends were Isabelle’s childhood friends, too. I had no desire to go up against a pack of trust-fund kids. Their logic could be terrifying. Leo finished his cake and started scrolling through his phone. “You should go,” he said, waving me off. “I’m on vacation. I can finally just chill on my phone guilt-free.” He was watching fishing videos. I rolled my eyes and padded away in my fluffy slippers. 2 When I got home, Bob wasn’t back yet. Ever since Isabelle returned, their little social circle seemed to be trapped in a non-stop party vortex. If it wasn’t a gala, it was a dinner party. If it wasn’t a dinner party, it was a wild night at some club. I’d gone from confused to completely numb. I was used to it. I wracked my brain but couldn’t remember what today’s special occasion was. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through our chat history. Ah, right. It was the birthday of some pop star Isabelle was obsessed with. Bob and his friends had hired the celebrity so Isabelle could personally celebrate with him. For a second, I actually felt sorry for the pop star, being forced to work on his own birthday. But then I remembered that making money is never easy, and I promptly called my personal masseuse to treat myself. I was lying on the sofa, deep in a state of bliss from the massage, when Bob walked in. He had a strange look on his face. He placed a gift bag on the sofa. “Isabelle told me everything. She didn’t mean to take your design contract. She was just testing her own skills. Don’t overthink it.” I opened the bag. Inside was a beautiful gold bangle. It looked gorgeous on my wrist. I looked up at him and smiled warmly. “It’s fine. We have a backlog of projects at the studio anyway. The team is swamped.” Bob stroked my hair, satisfied. “Have you eaten? I can call The Garden and have them send over your favorite king crab.” “I’ve already eaten,” I said. “Go get changed into something comfortable. I brought you some soup. You should have it while it’s hot.” It was really just leftovers I’d packed for myself, but the gold bangle had earned him a share. I shooed him away and went back to admiring my new prize. It was so pretty. A hand like mine was made for gold bangles. As for the contract Isabelle stole, I was laughing my head off on the inside. You see, the client was one of Bob’s trust-fund buddies. He was a decent enough guy—quiet, reliable—but a total mama’s boy. The last time my team designed a retail space for him, his mother was there for what felt like twenty hours a day, “supervising.” Her demands were endless, bizarre, and enough to make you want to tear your hair out. Worse, she demanded premium quality at bargain-basement prices and was a master of haggling and guilt trips. We were no match for her. By the time the project was done, we’d barely broken even. So, the moment I heard he’d bought his mother a new villa, I happily shared the news in our company-wide group chat. Within three days, every single design team had magically found other projects to work on. For Isabelle to swoop in and take that nightmare client off our hands? I wanted to give her a round of applause. 3 The next morning, as soon as I walked into the office, my best friend and lead designer, Maya, rushed over to poke me. “So, your Bob was out again last night, wasn’t he?” “Ooh, what happened this time?” A few other colleagues gathered around, their eyes gleaming. I gave my nosy friends an elegant eye-roll. “You guys are doing this on purpose, aren’t you? What else could it be? Another party for Isabelle.” I casually stretched, making sure my new gold bangle was on full display. “A little something I got yesterday.” “Nice,” Maya said, giving me a thumbs-up. “How many does that make?” “Seventeen,” I answered after a quick mental count. “Whoa…” “Bob’s taste is a little basic, though.” “It’s a gold bangle. It’s always going to look good.” “Any boyfriend who buys you solid gold is a keeper.” Maya leaned in conspiratorially. “Seriously, Senta, you’re not bothered by this whole thing with him and Isabelle? Look at this…” She showed me her phone. A photo slideshow on Isabelle’s TikTok had gone viral. There were pictures of her singing with the pop star, laughing and drinking with all the rich kids, and of course, a shot of her and Bob standing incredibly close. The caption read: ‘The most important people, my favorite people, all by my side. Another lucky day.’ Looked like they had a great time. I tapped her with a file folder. “Get back to work before this capitalist has to dock your pay.” That’s right. I’d leveled up from a workhorse to a capitalist. So even if things with Bob didn’t work out, I could always find another man. For the past three years, I’d been working tirelessly to cash in on the title of ‘Bob Thorne’s girlfriend’—networking with his family, his friends, his resources. I’d learned so much from him, acquired assets, and found investment opportunities. I had already gained more than I ever expected. My parents were open-minded and happily ran a little countryside inn, content with their comfortable life. My reliable relatives worked on my construction teams, and my wildly creative best friend was on my design team. They were even more dedicated to the company than I was, working diligently day in and day out. I guess because I never really lacked for love growing up—I was always surrounded by family and friends—romance has always been a ‘blessing if I have it, fate if I lose it’ kind of thing for me. Bob was a good man, and he was good to me. But if we didn’t end up together, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. Still, it was starting to get on my nerves. 4 That evening, I treated the entire office to a buffet to celebrate dodging a difficult client. The city lights were just starting to glitter as we arrived. Maya linked her arm through mine, chattering away about her mom trying to set her up on dates. The dinner was great, right up until Maya nudged me again. “Hey, isn’t that your Bob over there?” I followed her gaze. Across the street, in front of a fancy hotel, stood Bob. A woman in a flowing white dress threw her arms around him, and the two of them started walking inside, talking intimately. I took out my phone, snapped a picture, and sent it to him. A second later, my phone rang. “Senta, where are you?” “Look to your left, darling,” I said, my voice perfectly calm. Through the massive glass window of the restaurant, I gave him a little wave. I saw him gently push the woman away and start explaining. “Don’t misunderstand. It’s Isabelle. You know I’ve always seen her as a little sister.” What he didn’t see was Isabelle, standing beside him, shooting me a triumphant smirk as she pretended to be upset, clinging to his arm. She leaned in and whispered something to him, her voice a theatrical pout. “Senta, please don’t be mad at Bob. We were just going to meet Mrs. Sterling to discuss the initial design concepts.” Bob pulled the phone away from his ear. “Senta won’t mind. You go on ahead and order Mrs. Sterling’s favorite dishes. I’ll just have a quick word with her.” Leaving Isabelle behind, he crossed the street and walked into the buffet restaurant. As always, he greeted my employees warmly before sliding into the seat next to me. He took my hand. “Should I have someone drive you home later?” he asked gently. “Don’t drink too much.” I smiled, smoothly pulling my hand away to pick up my wine glass. “No need. It’s girls’ night. I’ll be home late. You should go. Don’t keep your ‘little sister’ Isabelle waiting.” I propped my chin on my hand, my voice dripping with sarcasm, and gave him a slow once-over before turning away. Bob’s expression remained calm. He put his arm around my waist and leaned in to whisper, “Don’t be out too late.” The moment he left, everyone at the table stared at me. I found it amusing. “What? Want to gossip about the boss? I’ll have to dock your pay.” They immediately lost interest and went back to their food. Maya blinked at me. “You’re really okay?” “I really am,” I sighed. I guess from the very beginning, I never truly believed Bob and I would last. Everything happening now felt… acceptable. Almost like a sense of relief that the other shoe had finally dropped. After dinner, instead of going home, I went back to Maya’s apartment to binge-watch a show and gossip. That night, I shared the day’s events with Leo. He sent me a photo of Vivian having dinner with Ethan. Suddenly, I felt a whole lot better. Misery really does love company. We spent the next hour sending each other about eight hundred complaint-filled texts before finally calming down enough to analyze the situation. Leo: [I don’t think you can win against this Isabelle girl.] Me: [And I don’t think you can win against Ethan. He’s ridiculously handsome in that photo.] Leo: [A man’s appeal is his competence.] Me: [And Vivian clearly thinks he’s super competent! Why else would he be hired as a director out of the blue?] Leo sent me a hammer GIF, followed by a link to a trending topic about Isabelle and Bob. The headline: ‘Thorne Heir Introduces Girlfriend to Family Elders.’ I was silent for a moment, then sent Leo a GIF of a bloody butcher knife. Having thoroughly wounded each other, we both decided to cool off. I scrolled through my phone for a bit. Maya sidled up to me with a conspiratorial grin, holding a box. “Hey, stay over tonight.” “Why?” I asked, feigning suspicion. She giggled. “I’ve been learning mixology. Let’s get drunk!” I laughed. I knew she’d been binging cocktail-making videos, trying to cultivate a more artistic vibe. “Alright, but first, let’s see the snacks.” We checked to make sure the apartment was secure, then laid out a spread of fruit, crackers, appetizers, and bottles of liquor in every color. Later, when the world was starting to feel fuzzy, my phone rang. I forced myself to sit up, rubbing my forehead. “What is it?” There was a pause on the other end, then Bob’s voice. “Senta, I’m not coming home tonight. Isabelle ran into some problems with work, and I’m staying to help her.” The alcohol hit me harder than I expected. A sneer escaped my lips. “Wow, Mr. Thorne, a man of many talents. I didn’t realize you knew anything about design.” “I…” Bob started to say something. But my patience had run out. “Whatever. Have fun, Bob.” I hung up. It was pointless to waste any more energy on this. Isabelle’s triumphant attitude was obvious to everyone except Bob, who was willfully blind. His friends and family were all actively trying to set them up, pushing me to the side. Whether Bob realized it or not, the traces of my existence in his life were slowly being erased. I sighed. What could I do when they were all working together against me? Look, if they wanted to, they could ensure I never even saw Bob’s face. I’ve never been one to torture myself. The realization sent a brief, wild surge of anger through me, but then I thought about the good life I’d built for myself, and the anger subsided into a calm acceptance. Then another thought occurred to me. Maybe Bob was just waiting for me to take the hint and bow out gracefully.

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For our family Christmas gift exchange, I bought my husband a pair of Italian leather loafers worth nearly a thousand dollars. I bought my son a limited-edition collector’s model kit he’d been begging for. And what did I receive? A pair of cheap, yellow rubber dishwashing gloves from the dollar store, with two scouring pads tied together to look like a “flower.” My husband hugged our son, looking at me with a doting smile. “Honey, you work so hard. This is for you.” I took the “flower,” forced the corners of my mouth up, and gave a stiff smile. The next second, my son looked at me with expectation. “Mom, you said you couldn’t cook the holiday dinner because you hurt your hand. But now you have gloves! You can cook now, right?” My husband chimed in immediately. “Yeah, whip up some wings and nachos. The guys are coming over for drinks later.” In that moment, the throbbing pain in my stitched-up hand was nothing compared to the cold ache in my heart. 1 For years, I don’t think I’ve received a single decent gift. I had told them weeks ago that walking to the grocery store in the winter wind was freezing. I wanted a red cashmere scarf. I didn’t expect a gift that was essentially a command to work harder. I listened to the sound of Mark scrolling through TikTok in the bathroom. Like clockwork, once he came out, I was expected to go in, open the window to air out the stench of his cheap cigarettes, and use the gloves he bought me for $1.99 to scrub the toilet stains he and our son left behind. Just thinking about it made a dull suffocating feeling rise in my chest. I tried to walk to the balcony for some fresh air, but I tripped over something. My son, Leo, had scattered his toys all over the floor I had just vacuumed. “Leo,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “Put the toys in the bin if you aren’t using them. Don’t leave them all over the living room.” “I won’t! If you want them picked up, you do it!” Leo snapped back without looking up. I grabbed his arm to pull him up and lecture him on respect. But before I could speak, Mark’s voice boomed from the bathroom door. “It’s just some toys, Sarah.” He wiped his hands on his pants, frowning at me. “Why do you always have to ruin his fun? You can just pick them up while you’re walking by.” Leo stuck his tongue out at me and dove back into his pile of plastic. The fire in my chest roared to life. It was always like this. Mark played the “Cool Dad,” and I was forced into the role of the nagging, unreasonable villain. I wanted to tell Mark that he was spoiling the boy rotten, but he cut me off impatiently. “Forget it. We’re starving. Go start dinner!” “Make sure there’s plenty of appetizers. The game starts at seven.” I clenched my fist. The stitches on my palm throbbed. “My hand is injured. I can’t cook.” “I know,” Mark said, as if it were obvious. “That’s why we got you the gloves.” “Don’t be so dramatic. It’s a tiny cut. It’s been two days, it should be fine by now.” I raised my left hand, showing him the bandage. “I got two stitches, Mark. You think this is fine?” Mark didn’t even look. He waved me off dismissively. “Who asked you to be so clumsy? You fell walking to the store. That’s on you.” “You’re just looking for excuses to be lazy.” The wound was still oozing slightly. The cold reality of his words stung more than the injury. I looked at Mark’s indifferent face, then at Leo, who was engrossed in his game. A wave of exhaustion washed over me. If Leo hadn’t thrown a tantrum demanding fresh lobster, and if Mark hadn’t insisted on specific cuts of steak, I wouldn’t have walked three miles to the butcher shop in the freezing rain before dawn. I wouldn’t have slipped on the icy pavement trying to protect the groceries. The anger I had been suppressing finally erupted. “Yes, I’m lazy,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “That’s why the food cooks itself, the clothes wash themselves, and this house magically cleans itself.” “Look at you, getting an attitude,” Mark sneered. “If you can’t handle a little housework, I might as well hire a maid. She’d do a better job than you.” “Then hire one,” I snapped. “Don’t ask me.” “Are you crazy?” Mark finally looked up from his phone. “If you don’t even cook, why the hell am I supporting you?” “You support me?” I looked at the rubber gloves and the steel wool “flower” on the floor and laughed. “You support me with this trash?” Since Leo was born, I gave him the best of everything. Organic food, expensive tutors. To save money for the family, I stopped buying skincare at Sephora and started using generic drugstore brands. I always thought Mark was the pillar of the family. He needed to look good for work, so I never complained when he bought designer clothes. And what did I get? Laundry detergent. A vacuum cleaner. And now, cleaning gloves. In their eyes, I was only worth gifts that served them. Mark frowned at the gloves on the floor. “I knew it. You’re ungrateful. We spent time preparing a gift for you, and you just turn your nose up at it.” “Fine. I’m not going to argue with you. I’ll Venmo you fifty bucks. Go buy whatever junk you want tomorrow.” 2 I took the fifty bucks. I grabbed my coat and walked straight out the door. I went to the mall. I bought a beautiful cashmere sweater and a satin skirt I’d been eyeing for months. I went to a bakery and ordered a slice of their most expensive cake. Then I walked into a jewelry store and bought a necklace I liked. It was dinner time. I picked a nice restaurant and ordered two dishes I loved—spicy curry and grilled scallops. Mark hated curry, and Leo was allergic to shellfish, so I never ate them. Tonight, I ate until I was full. After the meal, the heavy feeling in my chest lightened. I thought about Mark and Leo. They probably hadn’t eaten. Habit kicked in, and I pulled out my phone to call Mark. It rang and rang. No answer. Maybe he was in the shower. I sighed, ordered two takeout dishes from the restaurant, and hurried home. The house was empty when I got back. Mark must have taken Leo out. Toys were still everywhere. Ash on the floor. The toilet seat was up, and there were droplets on the rim—deliberate weaponized incompetence. I held my breath, opened the window, put on the gloves they gave me, and started cleaning. Just as I finished, collapsing onto the sofa, the door opened. Mark walked in, smelling of beer. “Oh, look who’s back. Done being lazy?” Leo nodded in agreement behind him. Mark saw the takeout boxes on the table and the shopping bags on the sofa. He scoffed. ” spending my money on yourself? Is that all you know how to do?” He turned to the two friends behind him. “Women have it so easy. We slave away at the office all day, come home, and can’t even get a hot meal.” His buddies laughed awkwardly. “Hey, Sarah. Sorry to intrude.” They pulled Mark toward the living room. I stared at Mark’s moving lips, but the sound seemed to fade in and out. There was a hole in my chest, and the wind was whistling through it. By the time I snapped out of it, they were already playing video games on the TV. Looking at Mark laughing with his friends, a sudden, uncontrollable wave of disgust rose in my throat. I turned around, went into the bedroom, and curled up under the covers. For ten years, I handled the school pickups, the homework, the teacher conferences, the extracurriculars. If the toilet clogged, the lightbulb burned out, or the kid got sick, I was the first responder. But the moment I bought something for myself, it was an unforgivable sin. If I rested for a moment, I was a criminal. He didn’t see the endless loop of labor. He only saw the moment I sat down. And Mark? He just had to show up to work, come home, tease the kid, and he was “Father of the Year.” Is this fair? As the sun began to rise, I made a decision. 3 The next morning, Mark sat at the table, his face dark when he saw no breakfast. “Sarah, you’ve been slacking off for days. That’s enough. Are you trying to starve us?” I didn’t answer. Leo mimicked his father’s tone. “I want pancakes! And bacon!” I looked at them quietly. My gaze slid over their righteous, demanding faces. “If you want pancakes, ask your father to make them. Don’t ask me.” Leo was a picky eater. When he was small, I spent hours making cute bento boxes just to get him to eat. I worried constantly about his nutrition. Now he was tall and strong. And this child, whom I poured my life into, hadn’t said a nice word to me in days. I knew he was acting out to support his dad. In every argument, Leo sided with Mark. Mark sneered. “It’s just breakfast. You act like you’re doing brain surgery.” “If you don’t cook, don’t expect another penny from me for household expenses.” He patted Leo’s shoulder. “Come on, son. Let’s go to Denny’s.” I watched their backs as they left. I wasn’t angry. I felt a strange, light sense of relief. For years, I had been too hard on myself. I thought that if I was the perfect wife, the perfect mother, the perfect daughter-in-law, if I kept the house spotless and anticipated their every need, they would cherish me. But in the end, my sacrifice only raised two selfish, entitled men who took everything for granted. When they came home, they went straight to the gaming room. I was invisible. Fine by me. Usually, when Mark went on a business trip, I’d pack his bag a week in advance—underwear, socks, razor, chargers. This time, I knew he was leaving the next morning. I didn’t remind him to sleep. I didn’t pack a thing. At midnight, Mark called me from his hotel. He was furious. He had forgotten his underwear. “Why didn’t you remind me? What kind of wife are you?” In the past, I would have found a 24-hour store near him or DoorDashed him some basics. Today, I just said, “Oh.” And turned off my phone. When he returned, he complained for hours. I acted like I was deaf. That night, he tripped in the bathroom. “The light is burnt out! Why didn’t you fix it?” “I can’t reach it,” I said calmly. “Buy a new bulb tomorrow and change it yourself.” Mark looked furious. I ignored him. After a week of no cooking, no cleaning, and no talking, Mark cracked. He came home from work with a bouquet of grocery store flowers. “Okay, okay. Here’s your gift. Stop making a scene.” “I don’t know why you need this superficial stuff. It’s not practical, unlike what Leo and I gave you.” Leo glared at me, clearly agreeing with his dad. Right. Practical. But when I gave him “practical” gifts, he sulked for a month. “Practical” was only a requirement for my gifts. I looked at the wilting flowers. They looked like me. Mark thought I was pacified. “By the way, my mom is going in for surgery next week. You need to go to the hospital and take care of her.” “No.” I refused instantly. “If you don’t go, who will? You’re the only one with free time. I already told her you’d be there. I’ll give you an extra two hundred bucks for the month.” “Let whoever wants to go, go. I’m not doing it.” When I was pregnant, Brenda, my mother-in-law, said, “Whoever birthed it can raise it. I’m not helping an outsider.” She never lifted a finger to help with Leo. Never gave a dime. “Sarah, how can you be so cold-blooded?” Mark yelled. “That’s my mother!” “Exactly. She’s your mother. If you’re so filial, why are you outsourcing it to an ‘outsider’ like me?” Mark exploded. “Are you done yet?” “You don’t care about the kid, you don’t clean the house. I was blind to marry you.” “If you can’t live like a normal wife, then let’s divorce!” “Okay. Let’s divorce.” I agreed immediately. “House is mine. Car is yours. Savings split 50/50.” Mark was stunned into silence. But Leo started screaming. “Why do you get the money? That’s my dad’s money! That belongs to me!” “You bad woman! I don’t want you to be my mom anymore!” 4 I looked at the child I had raised from a baby. My chest tightened with a sharp pain. This was the boy who used to cry in the night, who would only sleep if I held him. Now, he didn’t need me. I opened my mouth to speak, but my throat felt blocked. Finally, I just nodded. Very gently. “Okay. I understand.” I looked at Mark. “You can have custody of the child, too.” Mark realized I was serious. He smashed his phone on the ground. “Sarah! You think you can threaten me with divorce?” He looked me up and down with a sneer. “Look at yourself. You’re in your mid-thirties. You think you can live the good life without me?” “You couldn’t even get a job as a maid. Don’t dream!” I looked him in the eye. “Divorce.” Mark paced the floor, agitated. He pulled out a cigarette, tried to light it, failed, and threw the lighter across the room. “Fine! Divorce! Whoever backs out is a coward!” “You’re leaving the kid with me? Fine. Just don’t expect anyone to beg you to stay.” I let out a cold laugh. “Finally said what you really think, huh?” “You and your parents never wanted me to work. This was the plan all along, wasn’t it? Make me dependent so I couldn’t leave.” “Say whatever you want. You asked for this!” Mark yelled, his face red. I didn’t say another word. I went to the bedroom and started packing.

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On New Year’s Eve, a strange girl kept asking to borrow things from me. “Hey girl, do you have any tissues?” “Hey girl, I think I got my period. Do you have a pad I can borrow?” The third time, a forum post popped up on my phone. [Fam, my chosen target isn’t cooperating at all. What should I do?] I scrolled up. The OP said she was an ordinary person who could only afford the slow train. Her mom demanded she cough up 200,000 for her brother’s wedding. If she couldn’t, she’d have to marry the cripple at the east end of the village. The top-voted comment suggested this: [This is simple. Find a random unlucky passerby to scam!] [For example, pick a naive-looking college student, preferably a girl. Ask to borrow something—tissues, a pad, or a mask. As soon as she lends it to you, clutch your stomach and fall over. Claim there’s something wrong with the item. Then you decide how much she pays.] 1 ??? My phone slipped from my hand and hit the floor with a thud. My heart skipped a beat. Just three minutes ago, I boarded the slow train home, ready for New Year’s. Unexpectedly, the girl in front of me walked up, saying she had a runny nose and wanted to borrow a pack of tissues. Originally, I wanted to say yes. But reaching for my bag, I remembered the tissues were in my checked luggage, so I could only shake my head apologetically. Next, she asked for a pad. But my period wasn’t due, so I didn’t have any on me. Until the third time. She lowered her head, eyes shifting, asking to borrow a mask. This time, I actually had one. Just as I was about to unzip my backpack and get one for her, this post popped up on my phone. I didn’t want to look at it, but the OP said she was on a slow train, going home for New Year’s. And so was I. But as I read on, something felt wrong. The things the OP borrowed were exactly what that girl just asked me for. Down to the last detail. For a moment, my mind was in chaos. But the girl in front of me looked well-behaved, nothing like the person in the post. Seeing I didn’t answer, the girl tugged lightly at the hem of my clothes. “Hey girl, just lend me a mask. It’s winter, and there are so many people on the slow train. I’m worried the air isn’t clean and I’ll get sick. I… don’t have money to see a doctor.” Before I could answer, an older woman next to me urged, “You girl, come on. We’re all women here. When you’re out and about, you should help each other!” Another older man nodded. “It’s not easy for a young girl. She already asked. How can you have the heart to refuse? Look at you, a student, dressed so well, yet your heart is so black.” “Exactly, exactly. A mask isn’t anything expensive. Why fuss over it with a little girl?” A man in a suit grinned. Originally, I really intended to give it. But right now, my right eyelid was twitching, and I felt panicked. Thinking of the post’s content, I felt uncomfortable. Seeing I didn’t move, the suit guy started cursing. I got angry too. Besides, giving or not giving is my freedom. I zipped up my backpack, picked up my phone, and sat back down. “Little sister, sorry, I used up my masks. You should ask someone else.” The girl bit her lip and left. I planned to close my eyes and rest for a while. Just then, my phone dinged. The post updated. [What to do? The target I chose won’t listen at all. She’s clearly dressed so well, new Chanel from head to toe, Van Cleef & Arpels on her wrist. Obvious she’s not short on money.] [But she won’t take the bait. How can I make her pay me back the 200,000?] 2 My sleepiness vanished instantly. Looking up, I saw the girl from before, head down, brows furrowed, fiddling with her phone. And today, I happened to be wearing the latest Chanel dress. On my wrist was indeed a Van Cleef & Arpels bracelet. How could everything coincide so perfectly? I felt my breathing quicken. I immediately scrolled through the post. The OP’s name was Xiang Xiang, and the person helping her was called Little Sprout. Little Sprout’s latest reply: [What are you afraid of? If once or twice doesn’t work, try again. Are you afraid she’ll refuse? There are plenty of ways. If she doesn’t help, force her. Moral kidnapping works wonders.] Xiang Xiang (poking fingers): [But I… I’m afraid she’ll scold me…] Little Sprout: [Do this. Offer to buy it from her for ten bucks. If she doesn’t agree, offer fifty, finally a hundred. Girls are thin-skinned. If she still doesn’t agree, wipe your tears towards the men nearby. Someone will feel sorry and help you.] Xiang Xiang replied with a heart emoji: [Sister Sprout, you’re so nice. I’ll go right now.] Little Sprout (cheering): [Relax, you’ll definitely succeed.] I stared at my phone in horror. Before I could react, I saw the girl who wanted to borrow the mask crossing the seats again, walking over. Head down, biting her lip, she shoved a crumpled ten-dollar bill at me. The money looked like she had saved it for a long time. “Hey girl, my family isn’t well off. Can I… buy a mask for ten dollars?” “I… can give you fifty too…” Seeing I didn’t take it, she turned and pulled another crumpled fifty from her pocket. Now I was certain. She was the OP, Xiang Xiang. And I was the sucker she chose, the scam target. I never expected the first big event of the New Year to be this. My heart raced, fingers trembling. Breathing was difficult. I couldn’t imagine a girl who looked so innocent would plot something like this. If more people got involved, I wouldn’t be able to escape. I immediately stood up, wanting to flee my seat and hide in the bathroom. Xiang Xiang, sharp-eyed, grabbed my hand, raising her voice, eyes brimming with tears as she pointed at my backpack. “Hey girl, I just saw it. You have a pack of Capybara collab masks in your bag, nine left. I’m not greedy, I just want one. Is a hundred dollars really not enough for one?” I trembled as I shook off her hand, voice shaking. “I don’t have any. I won’t sell. I’ve used those masks.” My lips quivered. Xiang Xiang’s voice became even more aggrieved, pretending to wipe tears. “Hey girl, do you look down on poor people’s money? Don’t worry, I earned this through hard work, it’s not dirty.” This directly incited dissatisfaction from the suit guy next to us. He crossed his legs. “What’s wrong with you? Dressed so well but cheating people out of money. You have the nerve to ask a hundred for a mask? I’m afraid these clothes were bought by selling yourself too!” The older women and men rolled their eyes at me. “We thought it was weird just now, hugging the bag so tight. Are you afraid we covet your broken masks? Usually, I wouldn’t take that thing even if given for free.” Xiang Xiang continued to wipe tears. She was young, and her crying looked pitiful. How could the suit guy stand it? He stood up, pointing at me and cursing. “Speak up! Are you giving the mask or not? Believe it or not, I’ll hit you!” Saying that, he tried to snatch my backpack to get the mask. I was anxious. The suit guy was too strong. I reached out several times but couldn’t touch it. Xiang Xiang held her breath, staring at him tightly. Seeing the suit guy unzip the bag and take out the pack of masks, I rushed over with all my might, knocking him away with my back, tearing open the masks, throwing them on the ground, and stomping on them. “Not giving. I bought these myself. I give if I want to give. No one can rob me if I don’t give. If you want to be good people, go buy masks yourselves. It’s not like the conductor doesn’t have any.” “Damn, dog stuff, heart so black.” The suit guy spat in front of me. The older woman waved at Xiang Xiang. “Girl, go buy from the conductor. Only one dollar each. Stay away from this black-hearted person.” Xiang Xiang stared at the suit guy and shook her head. “Gra… Grandma, I’m fine. I don’t want it anymore. I can endure it, won’t trouble others.” She bit her lip, glared at me viciously, and returned to her seat. I sat back down heavily, heart beating faster and faster, wrist trembling uncontrollably. In my panic, I immediately took out my phone, unlocked it, clicked on the post, and pressed special follow. Sure enough, the post updated again. Xiang Xiang: [Sister Sprout, what to do? That person doesn’t have masks anymore. Did she see through me?] Little Sprout: [Impossible. She’s stupid, doesn’t have that kind of brain.] But soon I realized something was wrong. What does this sentence mean? As if the replier knows me. Also, I never took out that pack of masks from my backpack. How did she know I had a pack of masks, and nine left? 3 The more I thought, the colder I felt. My heartbeat accelerated involuntarily. The post continued to update. Little Sprout: [It’s almost noon. Impossible she won’t eat. If she doesn’t give a mask, ask her for food.] Xiang Xiang (heart emoji): [Sister Sprout, you’re so smart.] Little Sprout (waving hand): [Don’t mention it. I don’t need to teach you the rest, right? Finish eating, clutch your stomach and roll on the ground. By then, the five hundred thousand will be in hand. If she doesn’t give food, even better. Grab it directly, eat, fall down. Many ways, as long as you make contact, everything is OK.] Xiang Xiang sent a smiley face. During this time, more and more people were watching the post. Many netizens retorted, saying they were going too far. [Your own business, why let an innocent person take the bullet? If you can’t do it yourself, you want to drag others down.] [Exactly. I sympathized with you before, thinking your parents favored boys over girls, helping you think of ways. Now I wish you’d marry over there immediately. Birds of a feather.] [You guys actually believed it. This post is obviously staged. Trying to build an account, right?] [I don’t think so. Obviously that Little Sprout is jealous and hateful. Maybe she even knows that unlucky person. Otherwise, how could she say exactly nine masks? Miss wearing Chanel, Van Cleef & Arpels, using Capybara masks on the slow train, be careful. You’re being targeted.] Little Sprout panicked and cursed directly: [Shut up. Who… who said we know each other? What do you know? Besides, I’m happy with money earned by ability. I think you’re just sour grapes.] Xiang Xiang (agreeing): [Sister Sprout is right. Why are there so many rich people and we are poor? They can afford Chanel, use luxury brands, they should take out money and share. That’s fair.] I gripped my phone tighter and tighter. Breathing rapidly. I had no idea what deep hatred that person opposite had for me, wanting to put me to death, and even seeming to know me well. I originally planned to eat a boxed lunch to pad my stomach. After all, I got up late in the morning and hadn’t eaten anything. But now, to avoid everything happening in the post, I had to swallow my saliva and sit there motionless. Anyway, there was still an hour before getting off. At worst, I wouldn’t eat. I hugged my backpack, stomach rumbling. Just then, the slow train stopped. Quite a few people got on and off. Just at this moment, a rider in yellow rushed through the car door, carrying takeout and placing it in front of me. “Li Le Guo, right! This is the Szechuan Pork Slices set you ordered. wish you a pleasant meal and enjoy the ride.” I was completely dumbfounded. My heart went thump thump. What happened! I didn’t order anything at all. I immediately called the rider. He held the delivery slip, blinking at me. “Customer, don’t joke. The person on this slip is Li Le Guo, seat 11 window side, phone tail number 5356. All this matches your information.” “Impossible, I really didn’t order. I don’t even have a food delivery app.” The delivery rider scratched his head. “Customer, I have other deliveries. If really not, ask your friends and family if they ordered.” Finished, the rider ran off the train. Looking up again, I saw Xiang Xiang tilting her head, watching me, grinning proudly. My mind was getting messier. Just then, my best friend Yu Hui Hui sent me a message. [Babe, you’re almost home, right? I specially ordered train takeout for you. Mildly spicy Szechuan Pork Slices, can’t let my babe starve.] 4 Yu Hui Hui? Little Sprout? Could they be the same person? I didn’t even dare to think about the guess in my heart. Yu Hui Hui and I grew up together, went to primary and middle school together, and agreed to go to the same university in the future. However, in the first year of high school, Yu Hui Hui dated a blonde boyfriend, and we had a fight because of this. I threw the fifty-cent bracelet the blonde gave her into the trash can. “Hui Hui, we agreed to take the college entrance exam together, to see a different world. How can you date now? This is senior year, the most important time.” Yu Hui Hui pushed me away with a face full of disgust. “Guo, did you study yourself stupid! What’s the use of learning those things. Look at this guy in my family, elementary school diploma earning thirty thousand a month, a small boss. College students come out and still work for these small bosses.” “But don’t you want to see the outside world anymore? Maybe your thoughts will be different later. Besides, the exam is coming soon. You can study first and talk about these later.” Yu Hui Hui shook me off directly, blowing on the bracelet like a treasure. “Enough. Aren’t you just jealous seeing me find a rich boyfriend? Yes, your family is good, buy whatever you want. Unlike me, I only have myself to rely on. Since our values don’t align, let’s not be friends.” After that day, Yu Hui Hui skipped class every few days, even missed the college entrance exam. The day I walked out of the exam hall, she sat in a BMW, looking at me with disdain. “Heh, what you have, I will have too.” Later I went to university. Yu Hui Hui blocked me, until she added me back not long ago. At that time I was packing my backpack to go home for New Year’s and answered her video call. In the picture, Yu Hui Hui smiled brightly, only showing her face, much thinner than before. I showed her the Capybara collab masks I bought. I opened one and put it in my pocket, leaving nine in the backpack. Yu Hui Hui asked me when I was going home, train number and seat. I told her without reservation. At that time I really thought our friendship could be restored. But now, my mind was in a mess. A thought told me Yu Hui Hui was very likely Little Sprout. Otherwise, how could it be so coincidental, everything matched. But I couldn’t understand why she hated me so much. To find out the truth, I immediately switched to my alt account and questioned under the post. Me: [Sister Sprout, I also think you’re right. Rich people should give us money. They clearly have so much money yet show off. Pity I’m so stupid, surrounded by poor people. I don’t know luxury brands, don’t know who to scam.] [Sister Sprout, I also want big brand bags, five-figure clothes. I’m not convinced. So many rich people, what’s wrong with one more me.] Until I posted ten consecutive comments, Little Sprout liked them and actively added me as a friend. [Sister, don’t rush, let’s chat in detail.]

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1 The moment I learned that my husband, Sean, was actually Adrian Stephen, the sole heir to the Stephen fortune who had vanished in a plane crash, I did the sensible thing. I drew up a divorce agreement. He tore it to shreds. “Ava, I don’t remember any of that!” he pleaded, his voice ragged. “I want to go home. I miss the smell of the sea, I miss Goldie and Patches.” He grabbed my arm. “Let’s go back to Seaside Cove. Let’s not waste another minute with these people.” I looked up. Victoria, the woman who had been Adrian’s wife before his memory loss, was staring at me with a look of pure, venomous despair. Nearby, a little boy—Adrian’s son—was crying, trying to run to his father, only to be held back by his nanny. I swallowed hard, my fingers stiff as I pointed to the signature line. “Sign it, Sean.” “You can let me down,” I whispered, “but you can’t abandon the wife and child who have been searching for you for six years.” … Sean’s eyes went red. This gentle man I knew roared, shoving Victoria away as she tried to approach him. “Don’t touch me! How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t remember anything from before! You’re Adrian Stephen’s wife, that’s Adrian Stephen’s son! What does any of that have to do with me, with Sean?” He clutched his head in anguish. “I’m begging you, just leave me alone! Are you trying to drive my wife away? Is that what you want? I don’t have a single memory of being Adrian Stephen, so why are you all trying to make me responsible for his life?” Seeing his pain, Victoria opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Her eyes grew vacant, and only when she looked at me did a flicker of life return to her hollow expression. She hated me. With every fiber of her being. In her eyes, I was the other woman who had stolen her husband, the homewrecker who had destroyed her family. And from a certain point of view, she wasn’t wrong. The year I met Sean, he was a married man. But I didn’t know that. And neither did he. I found him on the rocks near my small fishing village, Seaside Cove. A shredded parachute was still strapped to his back, and half his face was caked in dried blood, but even then, his handsome features were undeniable. I took him to the small police station on the island. He couldn’t remember a thing, not even his name. He joked that he might be a merman who had swum up from the depths of the ocean. Officer Miller took one look at his dazed expression and figured he was a mentally ill man abandoned by his family. He took a routine blood sample for the database and told me to take him home for the time being. “Ava, he might be a few cards short of a deck, but he’s built solid,” Miller had said. “You don’t have a man around the house. He could be a great help. A hot meal for a strong back? Sounds like a good deal for you.” “We’ll contact you if we ever find his family.” So, I took him in. I even gave him his name: Sean. He said he was a merman from the sea, so I picked the name of a merman from an old storybook. And just like that, Sean became a part of my life. For six years, he went from coming back with empty nets to being the undisputed fishing king of Seaside Cove. From a man who couldn’t cook to a master fish filleter who moved with ruthless efficiency. He went from being the hired hand at Ava’s place to being Ava’s husband. I thought our simple, happy life would go on forever. Then Officer Miller showed up at our door again. He looked at me, his expression grim. “Ava… whatever I’m about to tell you, you need to be strong…” “Sean… he wasn’t abandoned. We got a DNA match. He’s Adrian Stephen, the only son of the Stephen family, the wealthiest family in Northwood City. He went missing in a plane crash.” “The impact must have caused his amnesia. And before the crash… he was already married. With a child.” “Ava,” Miller said gently, “I think your merman has to swim back to the sea.” My heart plummeted into the pit of my stomach with a silent, sickening thud. I stood there, frozen, until Sean’s enraged shout snapped me out of it. He had flipped over Officer Miller’s desk. “Miller, you’ve got a thing for my wife, don’t you? Is that why you’re stirring up this trouble? So that’s why you’re still single, you’re trying to steal her from me!” “Don’t think I won’t deck you just because you’re a cop! You dare spread lies about me, I’ll…” Sean was detained for a week for obstructing an officer. The day I picked him up from the station, I dragged him onto a plane to Northwood City. I had to know the truth. Was he someone else’s Adrian, or was he my Sean? The answer, as it turned out, was not the one I wanted. Officer Miller was right. Sean was the missing Stephen heir. He had a wife, and his son was now eight years old. From Victoria’s perspective, I was the villain. The homewrecker, the cause of all her pain. Sean clutched my wrist, his eyes pleading like a big, abandoned dog’s. “Ava, don’t leave me,” he whispered. “I don’t know them. How can I be responsible for them?” He looked terrified. “You haven’t found someone else, have you? Is that what this is? Are you using this as an excuse to get rid of me? If that’s it, we can figure it out. You know I’m not a jealous man.” Victoria’s breath hitched, and she looked as if she might shatter into a million pieces. The hatred in her eyes shot toward me like poisoned arrows, a constant reminder that the happiness I’d found had been stolen directly from her. I bit my tongue, hard. The pain jolted me back to reality. Steeling myself against the dull ache in my chest, I pulled my hand from his grasp. “Stop it, Sean… Adrian.” “The Stephens have hired the best therapist for you. I’m sure your memory will come back soon.” I took a shaky breath. “Do you remember Mrs. Gable next door? Her husband ran off with another woman while he was working on the mainland. You were always giving her fish. You know better than anyone how hard her life is, raising her son alone.” “You always said that a child without a father is the most pitiful thing in the world. Well, look at Cole. He’s your son. Are you going to be the kind of man who abandons his own wife and child?” Eight-year-old Cole bit his lip, fighting back tears, refusing to cry in front of the ‘bad woman.’ He stared at Sean, his small face a mixture of stubbornness and hurt. The man and the boy mirrored each other, the same expression on their faces. It was a bond of blood, something that could never be truly severed. Victoria, seeing the flicker of pity in Sean’s eyes, gave Cole a gentle push. The boy immediately stepped forward and threw his arms around Sean’s legs. “Daddy!” He was just a child. A child who hated the father who had left him for another woman, but who desperately wanted him back. Cole pulled a stack of old photos from his pocket and pressed himself into Sean’s embrace. Sean flipped through them, one by one. In each photo, a stranger who looked just like him had one arm around the boy and the other around Victoria. His expression grew more and more tormented. He instinctively pulled Cole into a tight hug. I took my chance. I turned and walked away. Standing on a bustling Northwood City street, surrounded by the rush of people, my heart felt emptier than it ever had facing the vast, open sea alone. I was torn, hoping he would run after me and terrified that he would. “Ava, stop.” My heart seized. I froze. It was Victoria. 2 She was clearly exhausted, but she held her head high, forcing an air of superiority. “Ava, we’re both women. Don’t think I don’t see through your little act,” she said, her voice sharp. “Playing the magnanimous one, pushing Adrian back to me… you’re just trying to make him feel sorry for you, to make him need you even more.” She took a step closer, her voice dropping to a hiss. “You just love being the other woman, don’t you?” 3 As much as I disliked her aggressive tone, in that moment, I felt a pang of pity for her. She had spent six years searching for her husband, only to find he had built a new life, a new family, with someone else. A husband who, for the sake of that other woman, was ready to abandon her and their child all over again. If I were in her shoes, I’m not sure I could have been as strong. “You’re mistaken, Mrs. Stephen. I intend to cut all ties with… Mr. Stephen,” I said quietly. “I’m a victim in this too. If I had known he had a family, I never would have—” Victoria wasn’t listening. She looked manic as she shoved me to the ground, pulling a bank card from her purse and throwing it at my face. “Ava, if you’re really going to cut ties with him, then get out of here now! Disappear!” she shrieked. “Or I swear, I will make sure every single person on your pathetic little island knows you’re a homewrecker who steals other people’s husbands!” I pushed myself up and picked up the card. She was right. If I was serious about leaving Sean, then I needed to disappear. Now. Anything else was just an act, a way to keep the connection alive. Clutching my bruised arm, I hailed a cab. Victoria ran after the car, her voice a mixture of sobs and curses. “Is this what you wanted, Ava? Money? I’ll give you anything you want! Just give me back my Adrian!” Officer Miller had told me about her. She was the daughter of a wealthy family, a Harvard graduate, a titan of business who had single-handedly kept the Stephen empire afloat after her husband’s disappearance. This hysterical, broken woman was not who she was supposed to be. I had stolen her husband. I had done this to her. Pressing a hand to my tight chest, I told the driver, “To the airport.” Victoria was generous. The card had five hundred thousand dollars on it. Enough to ensure I would be comfortable for the rest of my life. But the price was that I could never go back to Seaside Cove. I could never see Sean again. I fumbled my way through getting a passport and boarded a flight to Iceland. I hadn’t even known the country existed before I met Sean. “Sweetheart, when the fishing season ends and we have some time off, I’ll take you to Iceland,” he used to say. “You want to see snow, right? They say Iceland has the most beautiful snow in the world, and the most beautiful auroras.” “It’s like the end of the world there. Even the houses are painted in rainbows.” I had wondered how he knew so much. He would just smile and say he must have swum there in a past life, when he was a merman. I should have known. A man like Sean—handsome, cultured, knowledgeable—how could he have been simply abandoned? Finding a bar of gold on the street and keeping it isn’t so different from stealing. I hadn’t found Sean; I had stolen him. And now, I was giving him back. Life in Iceland was lonely and clumsy. It wasn’t the paradise Sean had described. The days were short, the nights were long, and it was bone-chillingly cold. I didn’t speak the language, so I couldn’t make any friends. I wanted to go home, but I couldn’t break my promise to Victoria. After some time spent in a listless haze, she called me. She wanted me to come back. Her voice was trembling, hollowed out with exhaustion. “Ava, you win.” “Come back. I’m begging you, please come back.” “Adrian says… he says if he can’t see you again, he’s going to kill himself. I thought he was just bluffing, until I found him in the bathtub this morning… the whole tub was filled with blood…” 4 I rushed back immediately. Sean was lying weakly in a hospital bed. The moment he saw me, his eyes, which had been dull and lifeless, lit up with a brilliant light. I took the bowl of porridge Victoria handed me and began to feed him, spoonful by spoonful. “You’re a grown man. What are you doing, trying to kill yourself, going on a hunger strike?” Sean’s shoulders slumped, and he looked at me with red-rimmed eyes, his face a mask of misery. “You’re the one who left me first.” “I tried to run after you that day, but you know I have no sense of direction. The only roads I know are the ones in Seaside Cove. I walked around in circles until the housekeeper told me I hadn’t even made it past the front gate of the estate.” “Sweetheart, can we please go home?” he pleaded. “I can’t eat this bloody rare steak, and I can’t sleep on a bed that’s softer than a cloud. I just want to go home, back to our boat.” As he spoke, tears started to stream down his face. I knew I had to say no. But looking at him like this, I didn’t have the heart. Victoria tilted her head back, fighting to keep her own tears from falling. She reached out and tucked the blanket around him. “When you’re discharged from the hospital, I’ll let Ava take you home,” she said, her voice strained. “As long as you listen to the doctors and take your medicine, I’ll agree to whatever you want.” She had given in. She wanted her husband by her side, but she never wanted to drive him to his death. Hearing her words, Sean let out a long sigh of relief and happily ate another large bowl of porridge. The single tear that Victoria secretly wiped away fell like a drop of lead onto my heart. Later, as we left the room together, Victoria gave me a self-deprecating smile. “Don’t think you’ve won, Ava.” “If Adrian hadn’t lost his memory, I know, without a doubt, he would have chosen me.” She took a locket from around her neck and opened it to show me the photo inside. “Here. This was taken in Iceland.” “I told him I wouldn’t agree to his proposal until I saw a rainbow aurora. The fool insisted we stay in Iceland for a whole year. He said if we didn’t see one, we’d just live there forever.” Her voice cracked. “The plane crash… he was on his way to an auction in France. He was going to buy a sapphire to have it made into a brooch for me… Damn it. If only I didn’t like sapphires.” She smiled and tilted her head up, but tears streamed down her cheeks. “Forget it, Ava. Take Adrian Stephen with you. As far as I’m concerned, he’s already dead.” For a moment, I wavered. But my conscience wouldn’t let me. Victoria was his wife. They had a son. She had sacrificed so much more than I had, and she and her child needed him more. Besides, Sean—Adrian—had loved her. He had just forgotten. His dream of taking me to Iceland was born from his love for her. Stolen things always have to be returned. Better sooner than later. I looked at Victoria. “Do you have a brick?” She stared at me, bewildered, but pointed to a construction site next door. “The crew should have some. What do you need a brick for?” I hurried downstairs with Victoria close behind me. “To get Sean’s… Adrian’s memory back,” I said. “It’s how they always do it on TV. One knock causes amnesia, another brings it back.” “You’re insane!” Victoria hissed, but I could see a desperate flicker of hope in her eyes. We went back to the room. Sean was lying in bed, his eyes bright as he watched me. “Sweetheart, you’re back! Did you and that mean woman work things out? When are we going—” I didn’t let him finish. I swung the brick and hit him squarely on the back of his head. “Hiss…” He clutched his head and passed out. When he came to, his eyes fluttered open. He looked around, and his gaze settled on someone. “Honey,” he rasped. But this time, he was looking at Victoria.

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I died under a stamping press at the factory. My entire right arm was pulp. My coworkers screamed. An ambulance came and went. At the wake, my mother-in-law’s wails were gut-wrenching. “My dear daughter-in-law!” My husband knelt before my coffin, bowing his head once, twice, three times. The compensation was $800,000. My mother-in-law took $500,000 to buy a house for my brother-in-law. My four-year-old daughter, Lily, was sent to an orphanage. That winter, the heating broke. No one fixed it. Lily huddled in a corner, clutching a photo of me, and never woke up again. When I opened my eyes, the calendar read: March 15, 2024. Three days before the accident. This time, I wasn’t the one who was going to die. 1 I sat up in bed, drenched in sweat. The image of Lily’s face from the dream still haunted me. Her lips were purple, her small hand clutching my photo, her fingernails cracked from the cold. “Mommy, I’m cold.” I squeezed my eyes shut. The door opened, and my mother-in-law, Brenda, came in with a bowl of chicken soup. “Sarah, you’re awake? Here, drink this. You must be exhausted from all those night shifts.” Her smile was warm and kind. I stared at that face. In my previous life, three days after I died, she had worn that same expression as she sat in the living room, counting stacks of cash. She finished counting, looked up at my brother-in-law, and said, “It’s enough. Enough for the down payment.” “Just put the soup there, Mom,” I said. “Alright, drink it while it’s hot.” Brenda placed the bowl on the nightstand. “Oh, and get to bed early tonight. You have the night shift tomorrow.” She turned and left. I picked up the bowl and took a sip. The soup was genuinely delicious. Brenda was a good cook. In my five years with the family, I had eaten her food every day. Of course, “good food” wasn’t free. My entire monthly paycheck of $4,500 went straight to her, every single cent. “Sarah, why don’t you just let me hold onto your paychecks? I’ll save it all up for Lily’s college fund.” She’d been saying that for five years. I’d believed her for five years. I put the bowl down and walked to the window. Lily was playing in the yard, drawing circles in the dirt with a stick. She was so small and thin for a four-year-old. She wore a faded pink coat, the only one she owned. Brenda always said kids grow too fast and buying new clothes was a waste of money. My eyes stung as I looked at my daughter. In my last life, she died alone on a cold floor. This time, I wouldn’t let that happen. A phone buzzed in the living room. Brenda’s phone. I tiptoed over and glanced at the screen. The message was from “Jason.” It was just three words: “Is it set?” Brenda came out of the kitchen and saw me, freezing for a second. “Oh, Sarah, you’re up. Did you drink the soup?” “I did,” I said, taking a step back. “Mom, I think Jason is trying to reach you. Your phone just went off.” A flicker of unease crossed her face, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. “Oh, it’s nothing. He’s just asking what’s for dinner tomorrow.” She picked up the phone, typed a quick reply, and shoved it into her pocket. I said nothing. That evening, while Brenda was out grocery shopping, I slipped into her room. There was a small gap behind her wardrobe, just big enough for a recording pen. I’d bought it last year online, intending to use it to learn a new language. It was still in its packaging. Now, it had a purpose. I tucked the pen into the gap, set it to voice-activated mode, and left the room. Lily was watching cartoons in the living room. She looked over at me. “Mommy, what are you doing?” “Mommy’s looking for something.” “Did you find it?” “I did.” I walked over, knelt down, and pulled her into my arms. She felt so fragile, so thin I could feel her bones. “Mommy, I’m hungry.” “Hungry? I’ll get you some crackers.” “Not crackers. I want meat.” I paused. Lily rarely asked for anything. “What kind of meat?” “The braised ribs. The kind Grandma makes for Uncle Jason.” My heart clenched. Brenda’s braised ribs were reserved exclusively for her younger son, Jason. The most Lily ever got was a tiny scrap. “Okay,” I said, my voice thick. “Mommy will buy you some tomorrow.” “Really?” Lily’s eyes lit up. “Really.” The front door opened. Brenda was back. She was carrying a bag of groceries and frowned when she saw me holding Lily. “Sarah, don’t spoil her like that. Always carrying her around. What’s she going to do when she starts school?” “I know, Mom.” I gently put Lily down and stood up. Brenda went into the kitchen. Lily tugged on my shirt and whispered, “Mommy, Grandma doesn’t like me.” I knelt and squeezed her cheek gently. “That’s not true. Grandma loves you.” Lily shook her head. “Grandma washes apples for Uncle Jason. She doesn’t wash them for me.” I didn’t know what to say. In this house, Lily ranked lower than Jason. In Brenda’s eyes, her younger son was everything. Her older son, my husband Mark, was a tool. I, the daughter-in-law, was an ATM. And her granddaughter, Lily, was a burden. Only Jason was the apple of her eye. At ten o’clock that night, I was lying in bed when I heard voices from Brenda’s room. It was my husband, Mark, and Brenda. I held my breath, straining to hear. The words were muffled, but I caught a few fragments. “Tomorrow… night shift… that machine…” My heart skipped a beat. In my previous life, the accident happened during my night shift. Stamping Press No. 3. The safety lock was broken. No one had fixed it. When I walked past, the machine suddenly activated. My entire arm was gone. I thought it was an accident. Now I knew it wasn’t. 2 The next morning, my brother-in-law, Jason, brought his fiancée, Jessica, over for lunch. Brenda was ecstatic, waking up at dawn to braise a rack of ribs. Lily stood at the kitchen doorway, staring longingly at the pot. “Grandma, can I have a piece?” Brenda didn’t even look up. “Go on, shoo. This is for your aunt and uncle. What’s a little kid like you doing eating ribs? You’ll choke.” Lily’s lip trembled, and she ran off. I saw the whole thing from the living room. When Jason and Jessica arrived, Brenda’s face was split with a grin. “Jessica, you’re here! Come in, sit down!” Jessica was dressed head-to-toe in designer brands. The handbag she carried, I’d seen it in a department store. Over eight thousand dollars. She glanced at me, a faint smirk on her lips. “Oh, Sarah’s here too.” “I am.” “Haven’t you had that outfit for a few years, Sarah? I’m pretty sure you were wearing it the first time I came over.” I looked down at my clothes. A gray cotton jacket, the collar worn and faded. “It’s been a while.” Jessica covered her mouth with her hand, stifling a laugh. “Jason told me your factory isn’t doing so well, that they can barely make payroll. It must be tough.” Brenda jumped in. “It really is. Sarah gives me her entire paycheck every month, doesn’t keep a penny for herself. She’s a very dutiful daughter.” “So where does all of Sarah’s money go?” Jessica asked, raising an eyebrow. “It’s not…” “It’s all being saved!” Brenda interrupted. “For Lily’s college fund!” Mark came out of the bedroom just in time to add, “That’s right. We trust my mom to handle the money.” I watched their performance, a cold smile hidden inside me. I’d believed them in my last life. My monthly paychecks, five years of my youth, all of it gone. All for an “accident” and an $800,000 settlement. At the dinner table, Jessica casually remarked, “Brenda, Jason and I saw a new condo development. A three-bedroom, close to the subway. The down payment is five hundred thousand.” Brenda placed a large rib in her bowl. “Yes, yes. I’ve got it covered.” Jason grinned. “Sarah, your factory’s doing so poorly, isn’t it about to go under?” “It’s fine,” I said. “That’s good.” He glanced at Brenda. “Sarah, do you have worker’s comp?” “I do.” “Oh,” he said, focusing on his food. “That’s good. You’ll be covered if anything happens.” My grip on my chopsticks tightened. He was probing. Jessica shot me a sideways glance. “What do you do at the factory, Sarah?” “Assembly line.” “Ah, the assembly line. That must be exhausting.” She took a bite of a rib. “I hear there are a lot of accidents on assembly lines. You should be careful.” Brenda tapped the table. “Alright, that’s enough. Why talk about such unlucky things at the dinner table?” “You’re right, Mom,” Jessica said with a smile. “I’m just concerned about Sarah.” I stayed silent. Beside me, Lily tugged my sleeve. “Mommy,” she whispered, “I want a rib.” “Lily, be good,” Brenda said sternly. “The ribs are for your aunt and uncle. You eat your vegetables.” Lily’s eyes welled up. I picked up a rib and placed it in Lily’s bowl. Brenda’s face darkened. “Sarah, you—” “Lily is part of this family too,” I said, looking Brenda straight in the eye. “What’s wrong with her having one rib?” The table fell silent. Mark tugged my sleeve. “Sarah, Mom didn’t mean it like that…” “I know.” I looked down and continued eating. Brenda’s face was livid, but she didn’t say anything else. Lily held the rib in her small hands, nibbling on it carefully. After dinner, Jessica and Jason were in the living room, looking at floor plans. Brenda joined them, the three of them whispering with their heads together. I was washing dishes in the kitchen when I heard Jessica’s voice. “Mom, the down payment is five hundred thousand. How much can you put together?” Brenda lowered her voice. “Don’t worry. The money will be ready before the end of the month.” “Where are you going to get that kind of money?” “You don’t need to worry about that.” Brenda paused. “I have my ways.” My knuckles turned white as I gripped the bowl. Five hundred thousand. Before the end of the month. In my last life, my accident was on March 18th. The worker’s comp settlement was $800,000. The timing was perfect. That night, my husband Mark came into our bedroom. “Sarah, don’t you think you were a little out of line at dinner today?” “How was I out of line?” “Mom’s face changed the second you gave that rib to Lily.” “Lily is your daughter. What’s wrong with her wanting a piece of meat?” Mark sighed. “Can’t you just let things go with Mom? She’s old, she’s short-tempered.” I looked at him. “And Lily? She’s only four. Should she have to let things go with her grandmother?” “Why are you being so difficult?” Mark frowned. “Mom treats you like her own daughter, and you still argue with her over every little thing?” I didn’t answer. He sat on the edge of the bed, his tone softening. “Sarah, Jason’s wedding is a big deal. Mom’s been under a lot of stress. Try to be more understanding.” “Understanding about what?” “Jason’s short on the down payment for the house. Mom was thinking…” “Thinking what?” “If you could lend Jason the money from Lily’s education fund.” I looked up and stared at him. “That’s five years of my wages.” “I know, it’s just a loan. He’ll pay you back after the wedding.” “No.” Mark’s face fell. “Sarah, why are you being so selfish? Jason is your brother-in-law! His wedding is a family affair!” “That is my daughter’s money.” “Lily is only four! It’ll be years before she needs it for school!” He stood up, his voice rising. “You’re just so petty!” He slammed the door on his way out. I sat on the bed and heard him talking to Brenda in the living room. “Mom, she won’t lend it.” “Hmph. I knew it,” Brenda’s voice was cold as ice. “It’s fine. There’s another way.” “What way?” “Don’t you worry about it. Just make sure she’s on the night shift tomorrow.” “The night shift?” “Yes. Over by Machine No. 3. The safety lock is broken, and no one’s fixed it yet…” Their voices grew quieter, and I couldn’t hear the rest. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Stamping Press No. 3. A broken safety lock. The night shift. The scenes from my past life flashed before my eyes. This time, I wouldn’t be so foolish. 3 On the third day, Brenda’s kindness was almost suffocating. She brought me breakfast in bed. “Sarah, time to eat. I made you sweet poached eggs.” I stared at the bowl. In the five years I’d been married into this family, she had never once made this for me. “Mom, what’s the occasion?” “What do you mean?” she said with a smile. “I just think you’ve been working too hard lately. You need to build up your strength.” I took the bowl. “Thanks, Mom.” “Don’t thank me. We’re family.” She sat on the edge of my bed. “Sarah, I know I haven’t been good to you all these years.” I looked up. She sighed. “I’m old, and I get grumpy. Sometimes I say harsh things. Don’t take it to heart.” “What things are you talking about, Mom?” “Oh, you know.” She took my hand. “It was wrong of me to take your paychecks. As soon as Jason is married, I’ll give it all back to you.” I looked into her sincere eyes and laughed inwardly. I’d fallen for this in my last life. I was so moved I almost cried. “It’s okay, Mom.” “Are you sure?” She leaned closer. “Then, about Lily’s education fund…” I looked down. “Mom, I really can’t touch that money. It’s for Lily’s future.” A flash of irritation crossed her face before being replaced by her warm smile. “Alright, alright. I won’t pressure you.” She stood up. “You get some rest. You’ve got the night shift tonight.” She left. I finished the eggs and got dressed. Lily was watching TV in the living room. Brenda was busy in the kitchen, and Mark had already left for work. “Lily, where do you want to go today?” She looked up, her eyes shining. “Are you taking me out to play, Mommy?” “Mmm-hmm. Mommy’s off today. Let’s go to the amusement park.” “Really?!” Lily jumped off the sofa. “I want to ride the merry-go-round!” Brenda poked her head out of the kitchen. “The amusement park? What a waste of money.” I took Lily’s hand. “Mom, Lily hasn’t been out in a long time. Just for today.” Brenda pursed her lips but said nothing. I took Lily to the park. It was just a short bus ride away. She sat on a painted horse on the merry-go-round, smiling so wide her two little front teeth showed. “Mommy, I’m so happy!” I stood nearby, watching her. In my past life, she had never been to an amusement park. I was always thinking, I’ll take her later. Later. And then there was no later. “Mommy, I want to ride that!” Lily pointed to the Ferris wheel. “Okay, let’s go.” As the Ferris wheel climbed higher, Lily pressed her face against the glass, looking down at the world below. “Mommy, the houses are so tiny!” “They are.” “Mommy, is that our house?” “No, our house is on the other side.” “Oh.” She tilted her head. “Mommy, can we live in a big house someday?” I stroked her hair. “We can. Mommy will buy you a big house.” “Really?” “Really.” Lily beamed. My heart ached watching her. In my last life, I couldn’t give her a big house. I died, and she was sent to an orphanage. That winter was especially cold. The heating broke, and no one cared. She huddled in a corner, clutching my photo. She froze to death. I blinked hard, forcing the tears back. Not this time. I would not let that happen again. When we got home that evening, Brenda met us at the door. “Sarah, you’re back! Did you have fun?” “We did.” “That’s good,” she said, smiling. “I made your favorite, braised ribs. Go on, eat.” Lily cheered. “Ribs!” Brenda patted her head. “There’s some for you too, Lily.” At the table, Brenda kept piling food onto my plate. “Eat more, Sarah, you’re too thin.” “Have this. It’s good for you.” “You’ve got the night shift, so get to bed early tonight.” I nodded as I ate. Mark chimed in, “See, Sarah? Mom’s good to you, right?” “She is.” “Good.” Mark looked relieved. “From now on, let’s just be a happy, peaceful family.” I didn’t reply. After dinner, I was giving Lily a bath. Brenda was on the phone in the living room, her voice a low whisper. “…everything’s arranged… tomorrow night… don’t worry…” I strained to hear more, but couldn’t. Lily splashed water in the tub, getting my face wet. “Mommy, what are you listening to?” “Nothing.” I started drying her off. “Lily, Mommy’s on the night shift tomorrow. You be a good girl for Grandma, okay?” “Okay,” Lily nodded. “When will you be back, Mommy?” “In the morning.” “I’ll wait for you.” I lifted her out of the tub and wrapped her in a towel. “Lily, listen to me. No matter what happens, Mommy will always come back for you.” Lily blinked. “What are you talking about, Mommy?” “Nothing,” I said, kissing her forehead. “Time for bed.” At ten o’clock, I slipped into Brenda’s room and retrieved the recording pen. I found a quiet corner, put on my headphones, and pressed play. Brenda’s voice filled my ears. “Mark, is that machine ready?” “It’s ready. I had someone remove the safety lock.” “She’s on the night shift tomorrow. It’s quiet over by Machine No. 3…” “I know, Mom.” “If something happens, how much will the compensation be?” “I asked. For a workplace death, it’s at least eight hundred thousand.” “Eight hundred thousand is enough. Five hundred for the down payment, and the rest for Jason’s wedding.” “What about Lily?” “Send her to an orphanage. We can’t afford her.” “Okay. Whatever you say, Mom.” The recording ended. I took off the headphones, my hands shaking. Eight hundred thousand. Workplace death. Send her to an orphanage. So this was the endgame after five years in their family. I clenched the recording pen and walked to the window. The moonlight was cold and stark. Fine. Just fine. Tomorrow night, we’ll see who dies.

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Harlan Sterling, the heir to the Sterling empire, was suddenly exposed as having a secret marriage and a daughter. He immediately issued a public clarification. “No secret marriage, and certainly no daughter.” “As everyone knows, I have been single all these years.” I watched his cold face on the TV. Then I looked at our daughter, who was crying secretly, feeling wronged and confused. My years of obsession suddenly dissolved completely. When he came home, I didn’t greet him at the door with our daughter like before. Nor did I look forward with excitement to our reunion after a short separation. Instead, I opened the messages I had received again. A vasectomy report from six days ago, and a sentence: “As long as you are willing, Lily will be my only child from now on.” With tears streaming down my face, I replied: “Come pick me up. I don’t want to stay in the Sterling house anymore.” 1 I stared at Harlan Sterling’s handsome, indifferent face through the camera lens. For a moment, I was in a daze. He was known for his cold personality, deep scheming, and poker face. But contrary to the rumors of him being an ascetic workaholic, Harlan had a high libido. Before his business trip, ignoring my tears and pleas, he tied my wrists with his tie and pinned me down, taking me four times. I couldn’t help but bite his neck; the mark should still be there. The navy blue tie with the subtle pattern he wore was an anniversary gift I hand-picked. This is the fourth year of our marriage. We have a lovely daughter who just turned three. But now, my nominal husband, Harlan Sterling, just clarified to the media in the coldest, most serious tone. “No secret marriage, and certainly no daughter.” “As everyone knows, I have been single all these years.” He pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses on his high nose bridge. The cold light in his deep eyes was palpitating. It felt like he was looking through the lens, straight at me with a chilling gaze. “I advise those with ulterior motives to stop their wishful thinking and embarrassing themselves.” 2 After saying this, Harlan stood up abruptly. His bodyguards and personal assistant immediately dispersed the crowd, escorting him to his car. I stiffly turned off the TV. The living room plunged into darkness. Only the floor lamp in the corner emitted a faint, cold light. Suddenly, I heard a low sob. I turned around sharply and saw my little daughter. Her face was tear-stained, full of grievance and confusion, standing there frozen. “Lily?” I quickly got up and hugged her. “Why aren’t you sleeping? Why did you sneak downstairs?” Lily buried her wet face in my chest. Her small mouth pouted as she asked chokingly. “Mommy, why did Daddy say he doesn’t have a daughter?” “If he doesn’t have a daughter, what is Lily?” My heart twisted in pain instantly. Harlan was usually stern and taciturn. Although he loved Lily, he spent little time at home and rarely smiled. Lily adored him but was also a bit afraid of him. Because of this, she was more sensitive than other children. As tears poured down again, it seemed the obsession that had supported me for so many years suddenly dissipated into dust. I wiped the tears from my daughter’s face. “Lily, do you want to leave here with Mommy?” “Where are we going?” “Will we come back home?” I looked down and smiled: “No.” “This isn’t our home.” I looked at Lily and answered with utmost seriousness: “This is your Uncle Harlan’s home.” “We’ve stayed for a long time and disturbed him enough.” “So, it’s time to leave here and go to our own home.” Lily nodded, seemingly understanding, and replied in her milky voice. “Lily listens to Mommy. Where Mommy goes, Lily goes.” “Good girl.” I carried her back to her room and kissed her cheek lovingly. “Sleep. Mommy will stay here with you.” Lily fell asleep. My gaze fell on the photo frame on her bedside table. It was a photo of our family of three. The only photo of the three of us. In the photo, Harlan sat upright with his usual distant expression. I held one-year-old Lily, smiling shyly and happily, leaning slightly towards Harlan. But he didn’t lean towards me. Lily was fast asleep. I took the frame and quietly left the room. When I cut the photo, I suddenly realized. The gap left between our bodies back then was meant for today, so I could easily cut along it. 3 A week later, Harlan returned from his business trip. It was already 10 PM. In the past, my daughter and I would wait for him no matter how late. But tonight, Lily had bathed and fallen asleep long ago. I wasn’t in the master bedroom but in the guest room on the second floor. When the familiar engine sound rang out, I was on the balcony, staring blankly at the message received six days ago. The vasectomy report still stung my eyes and brought tears. “Marianne, just nod your head if you’re willing.” “I will treat Lily as my own.” “From now on, she will be my only daughter, no, my only child.” I stared at those lines for a long time. Until the screen went dark. Until Harlan’s footsteps came upstairs. Until he came down from the third-floor master bedroom and stood outside the guest room. Then, a knock. “Marianne, open the door.” I wiped my tears hastily and hid the phone under the pillow. “I’m sleeping. Let’s talk tomorrow…” But before I could finish, he opened the door from the outside. I was stunned at first, then quickly sobered up. This is Harlan’s home, Harlan’s house. He naturally has 100% sovereignty. “Why did you move to the guest room?” He seemed displeased, his voice colder than usual. I slowly sat up and looked at him. He looked tired from the long flight, rubbing his brow as he spoke. His voice was hoarse. Ignoring the last trace of heartache, I looked away. “I haven’t been feeling well these days. Didn’t want to infect you.” “I don’t mind. Move back.” Seeing me still sitting on the bed without moving, he frowned slightly. “Marianne?” “I want to sleep. You should rest early too…” Harlan didn’t respond but walked straight to the bed. He bent down and picked me up. “It’s been a week. Don’t you want it?” He lowered his head to kiss me. But I turned my face away. He was surprised, and soon his expression turned displeased. “Marianne.” “What tantrum are you throwing?” 4 In four years of marriage, I had never rejected him. He had high needs. Except for my period or business trips, we did it almost every night. If it were before, after a week-long trip, I wouldn’t have slept all night. Back then, I was happy, even blissful. Because only in bed did I feel like he liked me. Normally, I was afraid of him getting angry. But privately, during our intimacy, I secretly wanted him to get angry. Because when he was angry in bed, he was so different from his usual self. Once, we had a disagreement, and I ran off to stay with my best friend for a week. Harlan personally came to pick me up in Hong Kong. That day, in the most luxurious penthouse suite, he coldly unbuckled his belt with one hand and pinned me against the massive floor-to-ceiling window. I cried until my voice was hoarse, but he wouldn’t stop. At the end, he gritted his teeth and whispered in my ear. “Marianne, if you dare play the runaway game again, I’ll kill you in bed.” “Crying won’t help.” Maybe I had a bit of a weird fetish. His cold, slightly angry look easily got to me. I liked that he lost control of his emotions because of me. But now, my body felt closed off. It was calm, like a pool of dead water. Just like my heart. I struggled out of his arms. “Harlan, let’s separate.” I looked at him calmly, then suddenly laughed at myself. We have a child, yet I can only say “separate.” Harlan and I, apart from a piece of paper agreement, don’t even have a marriage certificate. He was stunned at first, then asked in a deep voice. “Because I clarified the marriage to the media?” I wanted to say, not just because of the clarification. If it were just that, I might have found hundreds of reasons to comfort myself. But he denied our daughter’s existence. These past few days, whenever I close my eyes, I see my daughter’s aggrieved and confused look. I can’t accept it. “Yes.” “You know that was just to deal with the media.” Harlan looked at me with a distant and serious expression. “I’m very busy. I don’t have time to soothe your emotions over such a small matter.” I tried to look at him calmly, but my hands hanging by my sides couldn’t help trembling. My eyes felt like they were being pricked by needles, but I held back the tears. “I don’t need your soothing.” “I’m serious.” “We can tear up the previous agreement. I just want Lily.” A hint of sarcasm seemed to flash in Harlan’s eyes. “Are you using Lily to force me to reveal your identities?” “No…” “I told you, that’s impossible.” “At least for the next few years, absolutely impossible.” He interrupted harshly: “Marianne, I can indulge you in many things.” “But there’s no room for negotiation on this.” He looked down at me like I was a stranger. The room was constantly temperature-controlled, but I felt incredibly cold. The chill seeped into my bones, making me shiver. Before marriage, my best friend had subtly advised me against it. But I was brave and unafraid. “Even if Harlan is a stone, so what?” “Water dripping day by day wears the stone away.” But now, I’m giving up. I want to be free water, not a droplet confined under the eaves for a lifetime. “Think about it tonight. Move back when you’ve thought it through.” Harlan turned and left the guest room. The door closed with a heavy sound, unlike his usual controlled demeanor. I pulled up the quilt and closed my eyes. In a few days, Grandpa Sterling would return from his recuperation in the south. He was the one who decided on Harlan and me back then. As long as he nodded, I could leave with Lily. The Sterling family valued sons over daughters. Mrs. Sterling rarely looked at Lily directly. She had her own preferred daughter-in-law, so naturally, she disliked me. Now that I wanted to take my daughter and leave the Sterling family, it would probably suit them perfectly.

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1 Everyone in Port City knew I had a wife to be envied. Isabelle was not only the daughter of a titan of industry but also a legend in the legal world—an untouchable ice queen. But with me, she transformed, becoming the gentlest, most adoring wife a man could ask for. My plan was simple. On our wedding anniversary, I would finally tell her the truth: that I was the heir to the Rhodes family, the unspoken royalty of Sterling City, and take her home to meet my family. But then came her birthday. By chance, I saw her. Pinned against her own car by her new assistant, a kiss forced on her lips, the shreds of her dress scattered on the pavement like fallen leaves. I saw red. I charged in, a man possessed. The assistant ended up in the ICU. I ended up in court. I never imagined that my own wife, acting as my defense attorney, would betray me on the stand. She painted me as a monster, a jealous husband guilty of malicious assault. Of the assistant’s attempted rape, she said nothing. Not a single word. I was sentenced to three years in prison. In the visiting room, I demanded answers, my voice raw, but her face was a mask of calm. “You’re my husband, Matthew. Even in prison, I’ll love you.” “But Leo is different,” she’d said, her voice soft but firm. “His family has nothing. If he’s branded a rapist, his life is over.” In that moment, something inside me died. Fine. If she didn’t want the title of Mrs. Rhodes, then I would take it back. The day I was released, Isabelle Vaughn was waiting for me outside the iron gates, dressed in a magnificent white wedding gown. The sight of her ignited a cold, hard knot of hatred in my gut. In three years, she hadn’t visited me once. What was this pathetic charade for? “What are you doing here?” Faced with my icy glare, Isabelle simply smiled, lifting the hem of her dress as she glided toward me. “Why, I’m here to pick you up, my darling husband.” She stopped in front of me, her fingers reaching up to smooth an imaginary wrinkle on my collar. “Today is a very special day. I’m taking you home so we can celebrate together.” I was about to refuse when she raised a hand. Two men in black suits immediately stepped out of the car, flanking me. “Please, Matthew,” she said, her smile never wavering as she gestured toward the open car door. I knew I had no choice. Taking a deep breath, I got in. The entire ride, Isabelle stared at her phone, ignoring me completely. I was grateful for the silence, my mind racing with ways to file for divorce. But as we pulled up to the villa, I saw it. The lawn was covered in flowers and elaborate arches. And in front of the main entrance was a large welcome portrait. It was of Isabelle and her assistant, Leo. So this was her “special day.” Her wedding. To him. A firestorm of rage erupted in my chest, and I let the pure, undiluted hatred consume me. “Isabelle, what is the meaning of this?” She let out a derisive laugh, the warmth in her expression melting away to reveal pure mockery. “Matthew, you didn’t actually believe that a convict like you was worthy of being my husband, did you? The husband of a Vaughn?” The bodyguards dragged me from the car, and instantly, all eyes were on me. “Hey, isn’t that the jailbird? They actually let him out?” “Ugh, seeing trash like that on a day like this really ruins the mood.” Leo, dressed in a sharp, tailored suit, strode toward me, his face alight with a smug, triumphant grin. “Well, well, Matthew. How very generous of you. Rushing straight from prison to attend my wedding to Izzy. We’re so honored.” Looking at that venomous face, I didn’t hesitate. I swung, my fist connecting with his jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground. “Leo!” Isabelle shrieked. She shoved me hard before rushing to his side, cradling his face with a look of pure adoration. “Matthew, you listen to me! Leo is my husband now. If you lay another finger on him, I swear you’ll regret it!” “Husband?” I scoffed, shaking my head. “Need I remind you, Isabelle? I may have been in prison for three years, but we are not divorced!” My words didn’t faze her in the slightest. She just laughed. Waving a hand, an assistant scurried over with two small, red booklets. She threw them in my face. “Open your eyes and see the truth, you fool,” she sneered. “These are fakes.” Then, as if handling a holy relic, she took another set of certificates from Leo and held them up for me to see. “I wanted you to see what real ones look like. So you don’t get tricked by another woman in the future.” “Did you really think,” she continued, her voice dripping with contempt, “that I, a top partner at a Magic Circle firm, the eldest daughter of the Vaughn family, would ever marry a nobody? I married you because you had a pretty face. It was fun for a while. But a girl grows up. She learns that a pretty little puppy is no match for a real wolf.” She draped herself over Leo’s chest, the sight of them together like a spike of ice through my eyes. Leo wrapped an arm around her bare shoulders. “You know, I really have you to thank, Matthew. If you hadn’t attacked me three years ago, Izzy would have never realized her true feelings for me.” He paused, then handed me a business card. “But I’m a generous man. Since I took your wife, I’ll find you a replacement. The Elysian Club is full of beautiful women. Pick any one you like. I’ll buy her for you.” Veins bulged on my forehead. I lunged, my fist smashing into his face again. “You filthy animals…” The rage was uncontrollable. I wanted to tear them both limb from limb. But this was their territory. Bodyguards seized me from behind, wrenching my arms back. My eyes were bloodshot as I roared at Isabelle. “He tried to rape you! I saved you! Is this how you repay me?” Isabelle just laughed. She leaned in and kissed the blood from the corner of Leo’s mouth, then turned to face me, her hand intertwined with his. “Who said he was a rapist? What happened three years ago was mutual. We were just unlucky you stumbled upon us.” Her smile widened. “What was truly pathetic was how you charged in like a brainless hero, fighting him, refusing to let go no matter how I tried to stop you.” My heart felt like it was being crushed in a vice, the air squeezed from my lungs. But the memory of her terror was seared into my brain. “But you were screaming for help! You looked terrified! You were fighting him off!” Her laughter grew more manic. “Oh, Matthew. You really are a fool, aren’t you? It’s called role-playing. Ever heard of it?” My body went numb, my limbs heavy as lead. If not for the table behind me, I would have collapsed. But she wasn’t done humiliating me. “You must have felt like such a hero that day, protecting your precious wife. It must have been the proudest moment of your worthless life.” She leaned in closer. “A man as incompetent as you can only find his self-worth in moments like that, can’t he?” “So now you understand. I didn’t betray you on the stand. The only guilty party three years ago… was you.” She knew exactly where to stick the knife. I closed my eyes, forcing myself to breathe, to find some semblance of calm. Finally, I gritted my teeth and asked, “Isabelle, are you truly going to marry him?” She and Leo exchanged a glance, and then they both burst out laughing. “Marry him? Or a convict like you? Don’t be so naive, Matthew.” “Fine,” I said, my voice cold and steady. “Don’t regret it.” I pulled out the phone someone had given me three days ago. I dialed the only number in it. “Young Master. You finally called.” “Tell him I’ll do it. I’ll come back and take my place. But I have one condition.” A cold autumn wind whipped around me. My eyes, like a viper’s, were fixed on Isabelle and Leo. “Before nightfall, I want the Vaughn family’s empire to be nothing but dust.” The moment the words left my mouth, Isabelle, Leo, and all their guests erupted in hysterical laughter. “What did he say? He wants the Vaughn empire gone by nightfall?” “Even if you’re broke, you shouldn’t drink cheap liquor. Listen to that nonsense.” Leo swaggered over. “Well, since it’s my wedding day, consider it a gift from me to you. I’ll give you a drink you won’t forget.” The bodyguards I’d shaken off swarmed me again. My jaw was forced open. Leo grabbed a wine bottle from a passing waiter, smashed the bottom against a table, and poured the entire contents—wine and jagged shards of glass—down my throat. Dark red liquid choked me, spilling from my nose, but Leo clamped a hand over my mouth and nostrils. “Izzy picked this vintage herself. You dare waste a single drop?” The wine flooded my windpipe. My face turned purple, the whites of my eyes swallowing my pupils. Just as I thought it was over, he let me go. He threw the shattered bottle to the ground and kicked me hard in the back, sending me to my knees on the bed of broken glass. Isabelle sat in a chair across from me, sipping her own wine. “This is for what you did three years ago,” she said coldly. “If Leo is unhappy, you suffer.” She suddenly noticed a drop of blood on Leo’s finger and rushed over, kissing it away. “Oh, Leo, you’re hurt!” She spun around and slapped me across the face. The stinging pain was nothing compared to the agony in my heart. “You bastard without a mother! How dare you hurt my Leo!” The internet was right. Never show your scars to anyone. I had never celebrated my birthday, and the first time I did was because of her. She had asked me why, and in my naivety, thinking she loved me, I had opened a wound I’d hidden for over twenty years. “My mother died giving birth to me,” I had told her. “I’ve always felt that if it weren’t for me, she would still be alive.” I never thought she would one day use those words as a weapon. The warmth of her palm still lingered on my cheek, but she didn’t spare me another glance, turning back to fuss over Leo. “Darling, don’t hurt yourself while you’re teaching him a lesson. You’ll worry me to death.” They flirted behind me, their laughter fueling the inferno of my hatred. I wanted to tear them apart. Finally, Isabelle sat back down. Leo spat on me, then squatted down, a wicked grin on his face. “You’ve had the wine. It’s only fair you get a taste of our sweet, sweet love.” The crowd cheered. “Leo knows how to have fun!” Before I could react, the guards hauled me to my feet. Leo picked up a heavy wooden chair and brought it down on my back with a sickening crack. I crumpled like a dying dog. But it wasn’t enough. He had them pull me up, and he smashed the chair against me again, and again, until I couldn’t straighten my back. Isabelle suddenly lit up, as if remembering something. “Oh my god, how could I forget?” she exclaimed, walking toward me. “You once swore to be with me for the rest of our lives. Even if I don’t love you anymore, you still love me, right?” I let out a bitter laugh. I had given her too much freedom, too much adoration. It had warped her into this narcissistic monster. She beckoned, and a servant brought over a pregnant dog. “Today is an auspicious day. You’re a lucky man,” she declared. “We’ve had this little lady since Leo and I first got together. Marrying our dog is an honor you could never earn in a hundred lifetimes.” They forced my head down. I fought, craning my neck back, but I was no match for them. My forehead was slammed into the ground three times, and the dog in the servant’s arms was forced to bow with me. Isabelle laughed like a madwoman. “There! Now she’s your wife. You’d better take good care of her and her puppies.” A wave of nausea washed over me, and I collapsed, vomiting onto the ground. At a glance from Isabelle, a guard punched me in the face. “A convict like you dares to be disgusted by my dog? Fine.” She commanded, “Beat him. Beat him until our dear Matthew is willing to call that bitch his wife.” I had always valued philosophy and the classics; my family instilled in me a deep respect for matters of the heart and mind. She was trying to break my spirit completely. The blows rained down. At first, I felt the sharp, cracking pain of bone splintering. But soon, my body, like my heart, grew numb. Leo grabbed my hair. “Are you going to say it or not?” I split my lips into a grin, trying to use the pain to overwhelm the numbness. “You might as well kill me now. Because if you don’t, I will make every single one of you suffer a thousand times more than this.” Leo’s smile became a grotesque sneer. “What was that? Did I hear him right, Izzy? Your ex-boyfriend is not only pathetic, he’s a pathological liar too.” Isabelle suddenly held up a hand, signaling them to stop. For a fleeting, foolish second, my dead heart flickered. Did she still have some shred of feeling for me? But in the next instant, I saw her true intention, and I wanted to travel back in time just to slap my pathetic self. “Oh, silly me,” she chirped. “A wedding isn’t a wedding without a cake!” She and Leo shared a look of pure, malicious satisfaction. The guards lifted me again. I was too broken to resist. A massive, multi-tiered wedding cake was rolled out, and I realized what they were planning a second before they threw me into it. Sickly-sweet frosting enveloped me, a cloying, sticky prison. The top tier of the cake collapsed, burying me completely. The heavy weight pressed down, covering my mouth and nose. The familiar feeling of suffocation returned, the oxygen slowly draining from my lungs. I closed my eyes, resigned. I regretted my youthful rebellion, leaving my family to make it on my own in Port City. But my deepest regret was meeting Isabelle Vaughn and falling so hopelessly in love with her. Perhaps my decision hadn’t been wrong. Perhaps she was wrong. She was a demon, and I had foolishly tried to turn her into an angel. My life flashed before my eyes, and the one memory I clung to was of being a child on the beach, building sandcastles with my father. A wave of regret washed over me. I had always dreamed of the day I would bring Isabelle to meet him, to proudly tell him, this is the woman I love. I never imagined I would be murdered by her. No. I couldn’t die. Not yet. Not before I made them pay. My mind cleared. I slowly moved my left hand, pushing the frosting away from my face. Fresh air flooded my lungs like a transfusion, my brain snapping into focus. The sounds of mockery and abuse filled my ears. The sky was darkening. It was almost time. Just a little longer. I had already lost once. I would not lose again. “Does Matthew even own a mirror? How dare he even dream of being with Isabelle. A toad lusting after a swan.” “Forget that he’s a convict now. Even three years ago, a useless pretty boy like him was never good enough for our Lady Vaughn.” “Our Izzy and Leo were always meant to be. He was just a toy to pass the time. He was the only one who didn’t know it.” How ridiculous. After all these years, I was the last to know. She had been with Leo all along. I had been blind. Leo saw my head emerge from the cake. He grabbed my collar, about to shove me back in. I caught his wrist. “You dare?” I hissed. “We live in a civilized world. If I die here, you’re not walking away from this.” “Is that so?” he mocked, looking at Isabelle. She shrugged with a smile. “Oh? Mr. Rhodes, fresh out of prison, attends his ex-girlfriend’s wedding and commits suicide out of heartbreak. What does that have to do with us?” She looked around at the guests. “Did anyone see Matthew Rhodes here today?” The crowd roared with laughter and denial. “Who?” “Never seen him in my life! After the wedding, we all partied at the Vaughns’ until dawn. Never saw anyone by that name.” Isabelle smirked. “You see? Three years ago, I could make the security footage from that garage disappear. Today, I can do the same with the footage from this villa. You’re just a convict. Who cares if you die?” The mad celebration continued. Suddenly, a symphony of sirens pierced the air, followed by the sound of car doors opening in perfect, disciplined unison. “All of you, stop!”

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I am a PhD from a top university, and the “white moonlight” obsession of a powerful heir who couldn’t have me. When Julian Thorne was at his lowest, battling depression, I used psychology to guide him out of the shadows. From then on, he fell madly in love with me. After reclaiming his status as the heir to the Thorne empire, he pursued me relentlessly. But my heart only had room for academia. Rejected and lovesick, Julian acquired my entire research team and brought us under his company’s umbrella. He visited my lab daily, begging for my love every few days. I never responded. Frustrated, Julian started searching for replacements who looked like me. He found one—a social media influencer who bore a passing resemblance. Thinking she was the future Mrs. Thorne, she defied Julian’s orders and snuck into the lab to see me. Her assistant fanned the flames: “I heard there’s a fake academic girl pestering our Prince, trying to seduce her way to the top. We have to tear her apart!” The replacement smashed my lab with a whip and used fine needles to destroy my hands, peeling my fingernails off one by one, bloody and raw. She presented them to Julian like a treasure. “Baby, there was a green tea bitch imitating me. I taught her a lesson for you!” 1 I was held hostage by Julian Thorne for three years using my research team. He treated me like a precious jewel. As long as I accepted his pursuit, he was willing to lay the wealth of the entire city at my feet. This included the most advanced academic resources. I admit, I was tempted. But in the end, I refused. I simply didn’t love him. Six years ago, Julian suffered severe depression due to family issues. He stood on the city bridge, ready to jump. I happened to be passing by, busy with my master’s thesis experiments. I saved him. Using my psychology knowledge, I guided him step by step out of the darkness. After recovering, Julian fell uncontrollably in love with me. His family arranged many matches with women of equal status, but he wouldn’t even look at them. He would lose millions on projects just to make me smile. But I was distressed. The 23rd time I rejected him, I reiterated my passion for academia. “Julian, stop wasting your time on me. I don’t plan on marrying. I want to dedicate my life to science.” A week later, Julian signed my entire research team, including my mentor, under the Thorne Group. He threatened me with the results of years of hard work by my mentor and me. “Nina, if you dare leave the team or run away from me, I’ll make sure all your and your mentor’s efforts come to nothing!” I couldn’t gamble with my mentor’s achievements. After years of research, a breakthrough was imminent. I had to yield and signed a five-year contract with the Thorne Group. One day, the whole team was on vacation. With nothing to do, I went to the lab to run some experiments. Suddenly, there was a commotion in the hallway. “Chloe, Mr. Thorne gave strict orders that no one is allowed near this team. Maybe there really are important secrets. Should we…” “What are you afraid of?! I’m Julian’s girlfriend. I saw him secretly ordering an engagement ring a couple of days ago. Soon I’ll be the young mistress of the Thorne family. It’s just a small lab, why can’t I enter?” “Besides, don’t forget my influencer persona is ‘Academic Beauty.’ How can I not visit the new lab Julian signed?” The woman’s arrogant voice drowned out the timid advice of the other. I frowned. A lab requires quiet; loud noises are prohibited. This woman, trespassing with her privilege, must be Julian’s new influencer replacement, Chloe. I sighed. I had told Julian the lab needed quiet and no unauthorized entry. But that simple sentence turned into his extreme possessiveness. Last month, a bird flew in by mistake. Seeing it on the surveillance camera, the twisted Julian had it plucked and boiled alive. Thinking of that scene still made me shudder. Just as I was about to take off my lab coat and go out to warn her kindly, the lab door was kicked open. 2 The flashy woman saw me, shock flashing across her face, followed by rage. “Where did this plastic surgery monster come from? Why do you look like me?” Her assistant fanned the flames: “I heard there’s a fake academic girl pestering our Prince, trying to seduce her way to the top. Today the lab is empty except for this scheming woman. She must be trying to copy your persona. We have to tear her apart!” Before I could react, a slap landed hard on my face. Chloe’s face twisted with anger. “You slut! Of all places to seduce men, you run to my husband’s lab! You really are scheming!” I realized she had misunderstood. Covering my face, I looked at her calmly. I wanted to fight back, but instinctively glanced at the surveillance camera overhead. “Forget it, I won’t argue with you. You shouldn’t be here. Leave quickly.” Half a month ago, a girl deliberately bumped into me and pushed me down. I thought it was minor, but Julian saw it on camera. That same day, he had her hands chopped off. That’s when I knew Julian’s methods of torture were unusually cruel. Even perverted. This girl seemed ignorant. I didn’t want trouble, so I urged her to leave. But hearing my words, Chloe sneered and became even more aggressive. “We’re both playing the game, stop pretending! Don’t think I don’t know. You want to take advantage of everyone’s absence, dress up as an academic beauty, and seduce Julian!” “Any woman who puts in effort knows the Prince doesn’t like glamorous women. He likes cold women in lab coats.” “I worked hard to build my academic streaming persona to get where I am today. In a few days, I’ll be Mrs. Thorne. I won’t let you make trouble under my nose!” Chloe grabbed my hair violently and threw me to the ground. She pulled a forearm-length whip from behind her back and lashed it viciously across my face. The whip had tiny barbs. Each strike brought not only searing pain but also thin trails of blood. “Don’t think plastic surgery to look like me will get you into Julian’s eyes. Today I’m going to ruin your face and tear your clothes. Let’s see if you dare pretend to be an academic beauty then!” 3 I couldn’t help but cry out in pain. Before the next lash could fall, I gritted my teeth and caught the barbed whip with my bare hand. My gaze was dark. “Before you hit me, did you investigate who I am?” The barbs dug into the flesh of my palm. Chloe yanked it deliberately. Sharp pain shot through me as my right palm blossomed with blood. Chloe looked arrogant, sneering with disdain. “I don’t care who you are. Just a fake academic green tea bitch putting on airs in the lab! Knowing Julian likes this type, you rushed here to throw yourself at him!” My tone deepened. “I am a PhD, not whatever ‘academic beauty’ you’re talking about.” As soon as I spoke, Chloe stomped on my face. Her high heel tip ground hard into my nose bridge. “You? A PhD?” “Don’t think I don’t know. You read those online guides and snuck in through a doggy door, wanting to play a more realistic game, right?” “Actually, I should learn from you. My style of pretending to do experiments on stream is outdated. Maybe I’ll copy you and do a lab play session. Julian will be obsessed with me!” Dust from her sole fell into my eyes, forcing me to close them. Since I saved Julian, he indeed developed a fetish. He liked watching me do academic work expressionlessly in my lab coat. I thought he would stop at a reasonable point, but he got worse, searching the whole city for replacements who looked like me. Not just in looks, but in the demeanor of doing experiments. Chloe had strategized for a long time to become the most famous influencer in the “academic beauty” niche, finally catching Julian’s eye. Now she mistook me for a competitor. How could she let me go? “Julian has been pursuing me…” I pointed with difficulty at the surveillance camera overhead. “If you don’t believe me… look up. Julian often watches me through the camera. If you don’t leave, you might never get the chance…” 4 Chloe laughed maniacally, not believing a word. “Do you think I grew up scared?” “Not just this lab, but the entire research center nearby will be mine in the future!” Her assistant chimed in. “Exactly! You scheming woman, look who’s in front of you! She’s the future young mistress of the Thorne Group!” “So many influencers waiting for the Prince to choose, and he picked our Chloe. What does that mean? True love!” I wanted to roll my eyes, but my face hurt too much. Seeing Chloe ordering her assistant to smash the lab to punish me, I panicked and struggled to get up. “No!” The lab contained my mentor’s life’s work. I couldn’t watch this woman destroy it! I lunged forward like a madwoman but was whipped to the ground by Chloe. “I knew you were a shameless schemer! If Julian really knew you, smashing a mere lab wouldn’t matter. You’re scared because you can’t explain the mess you made, right?” “I’m going to teach you a lesson today! Jenny, smash it!” The assistant named Jenny grabbed a tool and smashed the lab equipment to pieces. I protected my mentor’s research results with my body, refusing to let go no matter how they tried to snatch them. Chloe got interested. She threw down the whip. “Jenny, tie this academic bitch up!” “I want to see what treasure she’s protecting! Maybe it’s a secret guide to seducing men!” Battered and alone, I couldn’t fight two of them. Jenny looped the barbed whip around me and shoved me into a corner. Chloe flipped through the file casually. “I thought it was something precious. Just boring words. Must be props for your act.” Saying this, she tore the manuscript to shreds!

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I am the mother of the villain. After my awakening, a system tasked me with giving the villain a happy family. I scooped up the villain, who was still just a toddler, and stormed into my high-cold, hateful husband’s house. “Honey! Do you not want me and our child anymore?” “Honey, say something!” Later, I pondered getting the villain a stepfather. My husband bit my neck, jealousy oozing from every pore. “In your dreams.” 1 I am the villain’s mother, but I’ve awakened. The villain, Sebastian, is my son. Sebastian became a villain because his unhappy family warped his personality, creating a dark and twisted character. His parents, me (Vivian) and Julian, were in a loveless business marriage. I had someone else I liked, but family pressure forced the union. My mother even drugged Julian and me, leading to a one-night stand and Sebastian. Julian hated my family for drugging him, so he ignored Sebastian from birth. Due to my own family issues and unrequited love, my temper grew strange, and I was cold to Sebastian. Sebastian lacked love growing up, his personality became extreme, and he eventually became the villain of the story. But I, Vivian, the cruel mother, suddenly awakened. Memories of the past replayed in my mind. Things I had done felt strangely foreign. Before I could react, I gained a system. The system gave me a mission: Give Sebastian a happy family and let him grow up happily. Me: “…” I looked down at the soft, white toddler at my feet and was speechless. He clutched a teddy bear, looking up at me pitifully. I asked uncertainly, “…Are you my cub?” Sebastian’s face crumpled, his mouth quivered, and tears threatened to fall. “Mommy, do you not want me anymore?” “Yes, yes, yes!” I panicked, rushing to comfort him. “You are Mommy’s precious heart, of course I want you!” Sebastian’s eyes lit up. “Really?” I nodded. “Really, really truly.” “That’s the first time Mommy called me precious!” Sebastian’s mood flipped instantly, eyes curving into crescents. “Hehe, I’m Mommy’s precious.” I felt a pang of sadness. Just a simple sentence made him so happy. How cold had I been before? Kids’ moods change like the weather. Just as he was happy, Sebastian’s face fell again. He asked cautiously, “Mommy, I miss Daddy. When can I see him?” Me: “…” Good question. Where is your dad? Where is my husband? 2 Julian, my husband who purely hates me. Cold personality, bad temper, but handsome enough to make up for it. In the original story, Julian and I separated immediately after marriage. He had his own villa, and we didn’t live together. My mom drugging us happened at a banquet we both attended. She spiked our drinks when we weren’t looking. One shot, one kill. Thinking about it, Julian’s pretty potent. My thoughts were straying, so I shook my head to get back on track. The system wants me to give Sebastian a happy home. That includes: A strong dad, a loving mom, a happy baby. A key link is missing. Action speaks louder than words. I immediately got Julian’s address, grabbed Sebastian, and rushed over. Arriving at Julian’s villa, the gate was open. We crossed the front yard and stopped at the door. I didn’t know the code, so I tried facial recognition. I tried mine first. Verification failed. Then I picked up Sebastian and let him try. Failed too. I fell silent. Sometimes it’s hard to imagine we three strangers are a family. No choice, I had to use the primitive method: ringing the doorbell. After a dozen seconds, the door opened. Julian’s punchable handsome face appeared. Seeing me, he frowned. Before he could say “Scram,” I beat him to it. “Hi! Nice to meet you, I’m your wife!” Julian looked at me like I had finally lost my mind. Then slam, the door shut. Me: “…” Failure is the mother of success. I rang the doorbell again, then picked up Sebastian. “You do it.” When Julian impatiently opened the door again, Sebastian smiled sweetly. “Daddy, I’m your son!” Strike two. Sebastian looked sadly at the door Julian closed again. “Mommy, does Daddy not like us?” “How could that be?” I lied through my teeth. “Your dad is afraid we aren’t full, so he’s serving us a ‘closed door special.’ Haha, haha, haha.” I couldn’t keep laughing. After shivering in the cold wind for a while, I pressed the doorbell a third time. Julian opened the door furiously. “Vivian! Is your brain…” I covered his mouth quickly before he could finish. “Don’t say it!” I signaled with my eyes. “The child is here! Bad influence!” Julian: “?” I picked up Sebastian and slipped into Julian’s house with lightning speed. Julian had a Border Collie named Max, very obedient. Seeing Max, I immediately entrusted Sebastian to him. “Max, quick, take your brother to the backyard to play. I need to talk to your dad.” Max looked at me, then at Julian. Then he actually grabbed Sebastian’s shirt and led him to the backyard. Julian was so angry his mouth twitched. “Vivian!” He gritted his teeth. “What the hell do you want?” “Don’t use my full name, it’s not intimate.” I tried to calm him down. “Hubby, I was wrong before. Let’s make up!” Julian’s icy face looked like an avalanche. “Whoever you are, get out of Vivian’s body right now.” “…” I thought for a moment and used the classic parent line. “Listen to me, I’m not thrilled either. But isn’t this for the child?” “A child’s childhood can’t lack parental companionship!” “Everything for the child, for the child’s everything. Let’s just make do and tolerate each other, okay?” “What do you think, Hubby?” Maybe it was an illusion, but I felt steam rising from Julian’s head. He: “Get out.” Me: “Yes, sir.” 3 I rolled out swiftly. Because Julian would soon discover he threw out the big one but forgot the small one. Sure enough, not even 5 minutes later, Julian’s call came. I naturally didn’t pick up. It wasn’t until an hour later that I returned to Julian’s villa. I rang the bell, and this time the door opened quickly. Julian stood there holding Sebastian by the collar, then tossed him into my arms. “Take him and go. Don’t come back!” Then he slammed the door. I took Sebastian home. On the way, I asked Sebastian, “What did you do at your dad’s?” Sebastian thought for a moment. “I ate cookies, played hide-and-seek, and played fetch in the backyard!” My eyes widened in surprise. “Your dad played with you?” He shook his head. “No, Max played with me. Max brought me the cookies too. Daddy was working in the study.” “I even brought washed grapes to Daddy while he worked, and he didn’t refuse me!” Me: “…” Such a sensible dog and baby. Such an insensible Julian. But anyway, this counts as Sebastian getting a bit familiar with his dad. So a week later, I used the same trick and dropped Sebastian off at Julian’s again. To prevent Julian from shutting the door on me, I left Sebastian at the door, rang the bell, and hid behind the gate to peek. The door opened. Seeing Julian, Sebastian immediately followed my instructions, holding up a bag of fruit. “Good afternoon, Daddy! I brought you apples and bananas. Wishing you peace and no banana-nxiety!” “…” Julian was silent for two seconds. “Did your mom teach you those puns?” “What puns?” Sebastian blinked. “Can I come in, Daddy?” “Where’s your mom? She left you here alone?” Julian seemed certain I was nearby and raised his voice. “Vivian, come out! Do you think I won’t lock him out?” Me: “!” What a cruel father! Julian started counting down. “Three, two—” Just as I was about to run out, Julian was bumped by something, stopping him from closing the door. It was Max. Max barked angrily at Julian, then grabbed Sebastian’s shirt to pull him inside. “Max!” Julian looked incredulous. “Who is your master anyway?” Max ignored him, dragging Sebastian inside without looking back. Julian slammed the door in frustration. Watching from afar, I gave a silent thumbs up to Max. Is this Paw Patrol to the rescue? With Max there, I went shopping with peace of mind. I accidentally shopped a bit too long. Afraid Sebastian would annoy Julian, I hurried back. Feelings need to be cultivated slowly. But when I rang the doorbell and the door opened, I saw a teary-eyed Sebastian. “Seb?” I was surprised. “What’s wrong? Where’s your dad?” Sebastian pulled me towards the bedroom. “Daddy has a fever. He looks really sick, boohoo…” I went into the bedroom and saw Julian lying in bed, looking pale and frowning. “Julian?” I called him. “You okay?” Julian opened his eyes. Seeing it was me, he looked even worse. “I’d be fine if you weren’t here. Take Sebastian and get lost.” “You’re sick and still driving people away.” I suspected his mouth was poisonous enough to kill himself. Neither Julian nor I took his illness seriously, but Sebastian was frantic. “Mommy, is Daddy okay? Will he die?” I saw a towel on Julian’s head and asked Sebastian, “What’s this?” “I put it on Daddy. I also made him a cold remedy drink.” He pointed to an empty cup on the nightstand. “Daddy drank it, but he’s still sick.” I was surprised. “He drank it?” Julian actually let Sebastian put a cloth on his head? And drank Sebastian’s concoction? “Hubby.” I leaned into Julian’s ear mischievously. “You drank the cold medicine our son made? Seems you don’t hate him that much!” Julian kept his eyes closed, coldly spitting out “Get out.” Seeing him like this, I doubled down on the mischief, leaning closer. “Let me tell you some good news. The cloth your son put on your head is the rag used to wipe the living room floor. Hahahaha.” “Vi! Vi! An!” Julian couldn’t take it anymore, opening his eyes to yell. However, maybe because we were too close, the moment our eyes met, something felt off. Julian is very handsome. His fever-flushed cheeks gave him a pitiful look. I could even feel his breath. I gulped. Something’s wrong. Need to run. However, just as I tried to get up, I was bumped by something furry. It felt like the butt of a giant fat dog. I fell uncontrollably. And just like that, my lips brushed against Julian’s cheek. Holy… After freezing for two seconds, I realized what happened and jumped two miles away. Julian seemed stunned too. Even his ears turned red. He didn’t even scold me. Sebastian was grinning ear to ear. “Hehe, hehe, hehe.” And the culprit—Max—was wagging his tail like a windshield wiper, looking proud. I was in despair. Max! Bad dog! No treats for you! 4 I ran. I grabbed Sebastian and ran fast. Sebastian was reluctant to leave his cheap dad. “Mommy, Daddy is all alone, poor him.” I said righteously, “He’s an adult. He’ll be fine after some medicine. What if you catch it?” “I’m not afraid.” Sebastian’s little head was filled with big worries. “Will Daddy die alone at home?” Even after driving Sebastian home, his face was scrunched up all evening, as if Julian might kick the bucket any second. Sigh, what a sin. Late at night, I had to take Sebastian back to Julian’s villa. After putting a mask on Sebastian, I rang the doorbell again. Half a minute later, Julian’s hoarse voice came from the intercom. “Vivian, is my house a tourist attraction?” “Don’t be a stranger, Hubby. What yours and mine? It’s ours.” I faced the camera. “Our son wants to show filial piety at your sickbed. What’s the passcode?” Julian was clearly too angry to speak properly. “I think you’re the one with the fever. Why would I tell you my passcode?” “Fine, if you won’t tell me, come down and open it yourself.” I was getting annoyed. “Hurry up, stop being fussy.” Sebastian’s milky voice chimed in. “Daddy, are you okay? Mommy and I are here to take care of you.” “…” Another ten seconds passed. Just as I was losing patience, Julian gave the code. “246754.” Once inside, Sebastian’s short legs carried him fast to Julian’s room. “Daddy, I’m here! Are you still alive?” Julian looked better but still weak. “Why are you back?” “Mommy and I came to keep you company.” Sebastian held Julian’s hand and mine. “When I’m sick, I hate being alone. I really want you and Mommy with me.” “So I thought, if you’re sick, you’ll be lonely too, and want me and Mommy.” Julian and I both froze. I could imagine how indifferent I was to Sebastian when he was sick before I awakened. Julian was silent. He probably thought the same. I nudged Sebastian to go play with Max, saying I’d take care of Julian. “How about it, Hubby? Feeling the pang of conscience?” After Sebastian left, I leaned towards Julian. “It’s okay, it’s not too late!” I sincerely invited him. “Want to join me in building a civilized, loving model family?” Whether from illness or annoyance, Julian looked like he had a headache. “Vivian, what right do you have to lecture me? Your family drugged me and irresponsibly brought Sebastian into this world.” His words were heavy and irrefutable. I lowered my head dejectedly. “I was wrong.” “You…” Julian was shocked. “What’s wrong with you? Aren’t you always proud? You never apologize.” If giving Sebastian a happy family was just a system task before, now I genuinely wanted him to be happy. Sebastian is so good. He doesn’t need me to worry about anything. He eats, sleeps, and plays obediently. If he breaks something, he’s terrified I’ll be mad and cries begging for forgiveness. I had a bad temper, and Julian wasn’t much better, but Sebastian is completely different from us. It’s hard to imagine such a good kid turning into a paranoid, dark villain. “I was wrong, really wrong.” A great woman knows when to yield. I grabbed Julian’s hand. “Hubby, it was all my fault. Let’s love each other starting today!” Julian looked at me. I looked back with deep affection. Half a second later, his mouth twitched: “Dream on.”

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