Category: English

After three years of marriage, Ethan remained obsessively germaphobic to the point of pathology. No kissing allowed, and he insisted on wearing five layers of condoms. That was, until the day I brought him soup at his office and found him pinning Willow—the student I’d been sponsoring—against his desk, ravaging her without restraint. Their bodies were tangled together intimately, not even a single condom in sight. My eyes immediately turned red. I rushed forward and slapped Willow hard across the face, only to be kicked to the ground by Ethan. “How dare you hit Willow?” I couldn’t believe it. “Ethan, you’re cheating and you think you’re in the right?” Just as I was about to strike again with tears streaming down my face, his assistant suddenly appeared and expressionlessly threw a stack of papers in my face. “Lauren, your marriage certificate with Mr. Chandler is fake. His real wife is Willow. You’re the mistress!” “Given that you just assaulted Mrs. Chandler, Mr. Chandler is very angry and wants to reclaim all the assets he’s spent on you over the years.” I was ordered to repay fifty million dollars, and ultimately spent three years in prison for being unable to pay. Later, I was reunited with my billionaire father. On my first day back in the capital, I ran into a heavily pregnant Willow being held by Ethan. When he saw me, he sneered coldly. “That was just to teach you a lesson. Now that you’ve learned to behave in prison, you can come home and take care of Willow.” “As long as you don’t cause trouble, letting you work as a housekeeper in the Chandler household won’t be a problem.”

My gaze was ice-cold as I stared directly at the loving couple before me. The man who had once been pathologically germaphobic around me was now supporting Willow with a face full of tenderness. “Why are you just standing there? Hurry up and help Willow.” “After spending so long in prison, you still don’t know how to serve people properly.” Ethan’s face showed displeasure as he kept urging me. “Lauren hasn’t gone stupid from getting beaten in prison, has she? Why isn’t she responding?” Willow stroked her round belly, looking at me with contempt. Seeing me frozen in place, Ethan reached out and grabbed me. “Lauren, if you take good care of Willow, I’ll still give you a meal to eat.” “Otherwise, as an ex-convict, no one will take you in.” Watching Ethan’s aggressive expression, I thought back to when he was in college. Back then, he was still a shy and quiet young man. Too poor to apply for financial aid but too embarrassed to ask, he would eat other people’s leftovers in the cafeteria every day. As a student leader, I extended a helping hand, helping him apply for aid and buying him meals every day. His eyes would turn red, and he’d practically kneel before me in gratitude. In the end, he conspired with Willow to send me to prison. I suppressed the discomfort in my chest and turned to walk away. Willow stepped forward to grab me, and I quickly dodged to the side. She actually stumbled and fell directly to the ground. Seeing this, Ethan kicked me viciously. I cried out in pain and fell to the side. He hurried to help Willow up, his eyes full of heartache and anxiety. I lay on the ground for a long time, unable to get up. Years ago, to accompany Ethan in starting his business, I squeezed into a tiny rental apartment with him. I bought him thermal pants but couldn’t bear to buy any for myself, and my legs developed problems from the cold. During my years in prison, I had no proper care. That kick from Ethan just now—the pain was excruciating now. “You lunatic! Willow was kind enough to offer you a job, and you tried to hurt her.” Ethan’s eyes blazed with fury, his chest heaving. “I never thought that after all these years, Lauren would still hold a grudge against me.” “Ethan, she wanted to hurt our baby.” Willow cried pitifully, as if she’d suffered the greatest injustice. She was still addicted to playing the victim. Our commotion in the street attracted quite a few onlookers. “That woman just got out of prison. My husband and I are acquaintances, so we wanted to help her find a job.” “Not only is she ungrateful, she pushed me, trying to harm the baby in my belly.” Willow spoke timidly, tears streaming down her face. “That woman is absolute trash. They were kind enough to help her, and she tried to hurt their baby.” “No wonder she was in prison. Lock her up again before she hurts more people.” Several middle-aged women were indignant, throwing vegetable scraps at me. Seeing that I really couldn’t get up, Ethan reached out and pulled me to my feet. Willow’s eyes seemed ready to shoot flames as she shouted at the crowd, “I’m calling the police.”

Ethan showed a shocked expression, then whispered in my ear. “Come back with me and be our housekeeper, or you’ll have hell to pay at the police station.” I forced myself to stand, shook off his hand forcefully, and said through gritted teeth: “Dream on. I never pushed her.” Willow looked desolate. “Ethan, my stomach hurts so much.” “Won’t you seek justice for me and the baby?” Watching her tearful expression, Ethan pulled out his phone. “I’m filing a report…” The surrounding crowd encircled me, pointing and gossiping. Soon the police arrived. Willow spoke weakly: “Officers, this woman tried to harm me and my unborn baby.” “I didn’t. She fell on her own, trying to frame me.” I said firmly. Willow whimpered while clutching her stomach, collapsing against Ethan’s shoulder. “She just got out of prison. We kindly offered her a job, but she tried to hurt us.” The surrounding onlookers grew more agitated. “That prison woman pushed her. We all saw it.” “Obviously no good. Just got out and already hurting people. Lock her up again.” The police said they would take us all back to the station for investigation. Throughout the journey, Willow kept crying softly while Ethan consoled her in low tones. That gentle manner—I’d never seen it before. In all the years we were together, he had been taciturn. I once asked playfully, “Ethan, why do you always have such a stern face?” He said he wasn’t good at expressing himself, that he had childhood trauma and couldn’t say comforting words. I felt guilty for so long afterward, hating myself for tearing open Ethan’s wounds. Now it seemed he just didn’t want to say such things to me. Getting out of the police car and seeing the station entrance, I almost laughed out loud. I turned to look at Ethan. His gaze froze as well. This police station was where Ethan and I had made our relationship official. Back in college, Ethan had a breakdown and cried when his wallet was stolen. The station where I accompanied him to file a report was this very one. That day, coming out of the station, he pulled a woven grass ring from his pocket. With hesitant eyes, he asked if I would be his girlfriend. I didn’t hesitate and put on that grass ring.

As soon as we entered the interrogation room, Ethan and Willow insisted I had deliberately hurt her, even producing evidence of my recent release from prison. My gaze was cold. “I did serve time, but that doesn’t mean I pushed her.” “You went to prison for being a mistress. Now that you’re out, wouldn’t you want revenge?” Willow spoke quickly, then quickly covered her mouth with her hand, as if it was an accident. Everyone froze. Several witnesses who had followed began muttering among themselves. “Really awful. Went to prison for being a mistress, got out and hurt people again.” “This person is rotten to the core. Should be locked up for life.” People around looked at me with contempt. Even the police officers frowned. My chest felt a sharp pain. Three years ago, Ethan’s assistant said my marriage certificate with Ethan was fake, that I was the mistress. I nearly went mad. We’d had a wedding and gotten a marriage certificate—how could I be the mistress? I was ordered to pay money back. Unable to pay, I was sent to prison. In jail, I received divorce papers and a message from Ethan. Ethan said I talked back to him and wasn’t obedient at all. He told me to learn to behave, and once I did, he’d let me come back. Willow was pregnant and needed the position of wife, so I should sign quickly. I signed without hesitation. I faced the mocking stares around me and responded: “Everything requires evidence. I’m not a mistress, and I didn’t push anyone.” “I’m suing you for defamation.” The surrounding voices quieted somewhat. Willow showed a pained expression and sobbed, “Officer, you see how arrogant this person is. You must help us.” Ethan’s face was unkind as he pointed at me. “What are you threatening? You’re an ex-convict—who’s going to listen to your nonsense?” Watching him point and curse at me, I only felt amused. That innocent young man from years ago was completely dead. The police officer gestured for everyone to be quiet and said they were pulling nearby surveillance footage. Seeing the police officer get up and leave, Ethan walked toward me, his eyes full of pity. “Lauren, if you just come back with me and be our housekeeper, I won’t pursue today’s matter.” “Prison before was just to teach you a lesson. If you’d been obedient like Willow, why would I have sent you to prison?” I leaned close to Ethan and spat at him viciously. “Stop dreaming. Just seeing you two makes me sick.” Ethan grabbed my hand and forced me into a corner. “Lauren, three years in prison and you still have this much backbone. Still haven’t learned to behave!” “Looks like you need to study in there for a few more years.” I bit down hard on his hand. Ethan released me in pain. “You’re an ex-convict. No one will want you.” “Lauren, this is your last chance.” I ignored him and walked to the other side. In my heart, I prayed that as long as there was surveillance footage, it would prove I didn’t push Willow. After a while, the police officer came back in and said there was no surveillance nearby. If I couldn’t reach a settlement, I’d be detained for investigation. Hearing this, Willow’s eyes brightened. With a contemptuous smile on her lips, she looked at me provocatively. “A settlement is possible. You just need to sign a contract to be mine and Ethan’s housekeeper, taking care of our daily needs, and we’ll agree to settle.” “Ethan said you’re pretty good at taking care of people. Here’s your chance to redeem yourself.” After speaking, Willow pulled out paper and pen from her bag and threw them at me. “Our Willow is truly kind-hearted.” “Lauren, you’d better not be stubborn to the end.” Ethan’s eyes showed certain victory as he stood with his arms crossed, watching me. Looking at his smug expression, I really wanted to slap myself. I’d accompanied the penniless Ethan in starting his business years ago. I watched him grow from a stammering young man into Mr. Chandler who could command everything. In the company’s early days, I managed finances while handling business relations. I built the entire company with my own hands. Until Ethan grew strong enough and told me to stay home as Mrs. Chandler and stop working so hard. At the time, I thought Ethan was just concerned about me, so I gave up all my work at the company and stayed home trying to conceive. Looking back now, it was all Ethan’s conspiracy to seize power. I threw the paper and pen back. “I didn’t push her. I won’t settle. I want an investigation.” Shock flashed through Ethan’s eyes. “Lauren, are you crazy? You want to go to prison!” I didn’t respond and walked toward the police officer. “You can detain me, but I want a thorough investigation. I won’t settle.” The police officer showed disbelief and confirmed several times. I nodded. This time, I couldn’t be framed without knowing the truth again. Just as I was being led toward the detention room, a voice came from behind. “Wait. I have evidence proving Ms. Reed is being framed.”

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Before the wedding, my sister Serena eloped with her true love. Her mafia boss fiancé, Victor Ashford, placed the wedding ring on my finger instead. After we married, this cold-blooded mafia lord spoiled me rotten. Until three years later, when Serena came back with cancer. Everyone urged me to divorce Victor and give him back to Serena. Victor frowned and pleaded with me: “Serena was deceived by that scumbag, and now she has cancer. She’s pitiful. I want to give her a wedding and accompany her through her final journey.” I agreed. I watched them have their grand wedding, their honeymoon… It wasn’t until I got pregnant that I discovered my marriage certificate with Victor was fake. Serena was Victor’s real wife all along. When he returned from his honeymoon, I didn’t cause any drama—because I had already quietly married his mortal enemy, another mob boss. I pushed the marriage certificate back across the counter. “That’s impossible. Is there something wrong with the system? Please check again!” The clerk at City Hall said coldly: “Ms. Langley, no matter how many times I check, the result will be the same. According to our records, Mr. Victor Ashford’s legal wife is Serena Langley. They registered one month ago. You are unmarried.” The slap of those words stung like fire across my face. I instinctively pressed my hand to my lower belly. I was pregnant. Just yesterday, Victor had pressed his face against my stomach and said, “I hope it’s a girl.” I hailed a cab and went straight to his private penthouse. When my fingertip hovered over the biometric scanner, I suddenly realized something laughable—after three years of marriage, I didn’t even have access to his private residence. “Mrs. Ashford!” His assistant rushed up behind me, panicked. “Mr. Ashford is in an important meeting…” “Swipe the card,” I heard my own icy voice say. “I’ll wait for him upstairs.” Pressured by my insistence, the assistant swiped his card. The moment the door opened, cold air mixed with heavy perfume hit me in the face. I looked up and caught two intertwined silhouettes against the frosted glass of the floor-to-ceiling windows. I froze in the doorway. Serena’s sickly voice drilled into my ears: “Victor, if you let me stay here to recover, and my sister finds out…” She covered her mouth and coughed twice, but her eyes darted toward the doorway with a hint of provocation. “She’s been spoiled by the family since she was little. If she finds out you’ve been in love with me all along… I’m afraid she won’t be able to handle it.” I took a step back. Just last night, Victor had held me in his arms and said he loved me… Then I heard Victor cradle her face tenderly: “Alright, let’s not talk about her. Have you taken your medicine?” I turned and walked away in silence. The assistant rushed after me: “Mrs. Ashford, why are you—” I ignored him and stepped quietly into the elevator.

When I got home, I started packing my things. While sorting through a drawer, I found a photo album. My fingers touched a hardcover album. I opened the first page, and my breath stopped. Serena at eighteen, her white dress flowing in the wind. Serena at twenty, smiling brightly under her graduation cap. Serena at twenty-five, standing by the ocean, her long hair dancing in the breeze. On the back of the last photo was a line written in sharp handwriting: “My darling, it’s been three years. You’ve finally come back.” … I cried and cried, until suddenly I laughed. So all this time, he had been looking at her photos in corners I never knew about. When my parents and brother begged him to marry Serena, his slight trembling wasn’t because he felt it was unfair to me—it was excitement? On their wedding day, when he held the bride’s face with tears in his eyes, it was because his wish had finally come true? And I—I was foolish enough to believe he was my salvation. I closed the album and put it back where I found it. My stomach suddenly churned. I rushed to the bathroom and dry-heaved. When I looked up, I saw my own pale face in the mirror. I finally remembered why, on the day Victor and I got our marriage certificate, the clerk had been unusually nervous around him. And why the certificate wasn’t printed in front of us… If he never loved me, why did he marry me?

The sound of the door unlocking startled me awake. “Emma?” Victor walked in with his suit jacket draped over his arm. “Why are you sitting in the dark?” “I happened to pass by a bakery and got you some macarons you like.” I looked at the pretty pastries, but my eyes were glued to his shirt collar. That lipstick mark was like a taunt, red as blood. When I took the box, I couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “What’s funny?” Victor asked. “Nothing. I just feel… completely unnecessary right now.” He frowned, about to say something, when his phone lit up. I didn’t know when it happened, but his phone wallpaper had been changed to a photo of Serena. But that wasn’t me. My hand trembled, and the pastries dropped to the floor. Victor quickly turned off his phone. He thought I hadn’t noticed. Then he asked: “My assistant said you went to my penthouse today?” I didn’t answer. He continued, “That’s where I work. It’s dangerous. I’ve told you before—don’t go there. Also, Serena is moving into our house the day after tomorrow.” I smiled bitterly. I had actually believed he would feel guilty. “The master bedroom is spacious. It’s better for her recovery.” He adjusted his cufflinks, his tone casual. “You can move to the guest room for now.” When I didn’t respond, he took my silence as agreement. “Also, there’s a charity gala next week. I’m auctioning off a few pieces. I’ll send you the list later.” “But Serena wants to go. She also said she wants to wear one of your dresses…” “Give her everything,” I interrupted, forcing a smile. “Sick people get priority.” His expression stiffened for a moment. Then he relaxed, relieved, and leaned in to kiss me. I turned my head away. The kiss landed on empty air. “Emma.” He sighed in frustration. “Are you still upset?” “Everything I’ve done has been for you.” He rubbed his temples. “Do you want to watch your family cut ties with you?” “Shouldn’t you appreciate my sacrifice?” What a sacrifice indeed. Was it sacrificing the chance to get a real marriage certificate with his first love? Or sacrificing a night of passion with her in the penthouse? “Yes,” I heard my own numb reply. “You’re right.” Those three words pleased him. His expression softened, and he turned and headed for the bathroom. As the water ran, his phone lit up again. I stared at the glowing screen and, almost without thinking, reached for it. Serena’s messages popped up one after another: [Victor, my last wish is to take a honeymoon trip around the world with you] [Look, I planned the whole itinerary myself~] I opened the file she sent and flipped through it page by page. A yacht off the Greek coast. Skiing beneath the Swiss Alps. The Northern Lights in the Arctic. All the places he had once promised to take me—but never did. So all these years, I was just a cheap stand-in. Every time he looked at me, every time he pressed me into the bed, he was probably thinking of Serena. I suddenly remembered our rushed “wedding.” I had been wearing a bridesmaid dress when he pulled me to the church. I wore the ring that should have been Serena’s. We didn’t even have a honeymoon. He had sworn he would give me a proper ceremony someday. That promise came up again and again—but he always put it off. And now, he was willing to set aside everything in his organization to take Serena on a honeymoon. When Victor came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, I was cleaning up the kitchen. “Emma!” He wrapped his arms around my waist from behind. “Let the maid handle this. Didn’t you text me today saying you had a big surprise for me?” I forced a smile and instinctively touched my belly. “I was just kidding.”

The next day, a notification on my phone reminded me I was supposed to attend a dinner at the Ashford estate. I put on light makeup to hide the exhaustion of a sleepless night. I was about to push open the door when I froze. In the seat that should have been mine—sat Serena. She was wearing the dress Victor had personally designed for me. Her hair was pinned up, and she was sipping soup that Victor had handed to her. “Serena, you need to eat more. Build up your strength.” Seeing this, I wanted to leave. “Emma?” Serena suddenly looked up, feigning surprise. “Come sit down!” Everyone’s eyes shot toward me like arrows. Victor strode over and grabbed my wrist. “What are you doing here?” “I shouldn’t be here?” I asked, almost laughing. “My parents think we’re already divorced…” he said. I stood frozen. So everyone had already decided that Serena was the real wife. At this point, there was no reason for me to stay. “I’m not feeling well. I want to go home and rest.” “No.” His grip tightened. “Serena invited you to sit down. You need to give her some respect.” “Victor!” My voice trembled. “Emma!” He cut me off sharply, his gaze cold, as if looking at a stranger throwing a tantrum. “You showed up here out of nowhere just to compete with Serena for attention, didn’t you?” My eyes instantly turned red. At the other end of the table, Serena suddenly erupted into a violent coughing fit, as if she might suffocate any second. Victor let go of my hand without hesitation and rushed to her side, not even glancing at me as I stumbled. Serena spoke weakly: “Emma… are you still mad at me? If you leave now, it means you won’t forgive me.” Victor’s expression darkened. “Emma. Sit down.” I didn’t move. With one look from him, two housekeepers stepped forward, each pressing down on one of my shoulders, forcing me into a chair. Victor said coldly, “Don’t make this uncomfortable for everyone.” I let them hold me in place. I couldn’t even feel the pain anymore. The man, satisfied that I wasn’t resisting, gave my hand a brief squeeze, then returned to Serena’s side and continued to care for her attentively. Meanwhile, I sat like an outsider, shoved into the farthest corner. Some relatives whispered and snickered: “Some people sit in a position for three years, and still can’t compare to someone who’s been back for three days.” “Serena is so sweet and elegant. Unlike some people, always looking so cold…” I endured every word. When the dinner finally ended, I stood to say goodbye to his parents. His mother gave me a dismissive nod. “I heard you’ve been spending every night at bars. If Serena hadn’t told me, I wouldn’t have known you were so loose.” My blood ran cold. This baseless accusation—so this was Serena’s farewell gift to me.

When I walked out of the Ashford mansion, the night wind was freezing. Every other time I came here, I arrived with Victor. This time, I came alone—and I left alone. My phone suddenly buzzed with a notification: [Mob Boss’s Wife Dumped—Sister Takes Her Place] The photo was from their wedding day, showing my back as I was seated at the staff table. The comments were full of mockery: “Heard she hooks up with male models at clubs every night. She deserved to be divorced. Mr. Ashford not putting a bullet in her is already merciful.” “Three years of marriage and not a single kid? Guess he didn’t even want to touch her.” “LOL, the stand-in finally got kicked out!” I calmly turned off the screen. I remembered that three years ago, when Serena’s scandal first hit the headlines, Victor summoned his PR team overnight. Every negative article vanished within three hours. But now, as lies about me flooded the internet, he didn’t care at all. The moment I reached my door, my phone buzzed nonstop. Mom: [Serena wants a family photo. Get to the studio now.] Dad: [Don’t be difficult. She doesn’t have much time left!] My brother Derek: [If you don’t show up, don’t bother calling me your brother anymore!] I sighed. Serena and I were half-sisters. She was raised by my mother. Even though I was her biological daughter, I could never replace Serena in Mom’s heart. Serena was right. I never liked sharing anything, ever since I was little. Because they didn’t know—everything they got handed to them, I had to claw out of the dirt to earn. My parents would give them allowances and forget about me. Even the housekeeper couldn’t remember I was allergic to mango. Her desserts nearly killed me more than once. On my wedding day, my mother cried and said, “If Serena hadn’t been tricked into going abroad, she would have been the bride today.” And now, they wanted me—the one whose husband had been stolen—to stand in a family photo, smiling and playing happy. My phone buzzed again. This time it was Victor. He sent me a location: “Get here. Now.” I laughed coldly and turned off my phone. This time, I wasn’t going to please anyone. Just as I was about to go inside, two strangers rushed out. They grabbed me by the arms, one on each side. “What are you doing?” I struggled hard. “Let me go!” A black sedan sped through the night. I gripped the door handle. Kidnapping? Revenge? Or… The car screeched to a stop outside a photography studio. That’s when I realized—Victor had me brought here. I was shoved inside, trembling with cold. Serena stood in a white wedding gown, leaning against Victor. “Emma! You’re here?” She smiled sweetly. “Come stand next to me, okay?” My brother Derek grabbed me hard, afraid I’d make a scene. “She can stand next to me. Today’s about you!” As the photographer adjusted our positions, I was slowly pushed to the edge. When the photo was finally done, I turned to leave, shaking. Serena suddenly walked toward me and whispered in my ear: “I stole your husband, Emma. Why won’t you hit me?” I knew she was baiting me. Back at home, she used to provoke me over and over, waiting for me to snap so she could play the fragile victim. But this time, I didn’t move. It wasn’t worth it. I turned to leave—and she suddenly fell backward. The sound of tearing fabric filled the room. Everyone rushed to her side. “Emma!” Victor was the first to reach me. He slapped me hard across the face, knocking me to the ground. “Apologize!” My ears rang. The fall was too violent. A sharp pain shot through my lower abdomen. “Victor…” I suddenly realized something was wrong. I doubled over, clutching my stomach. “My stomach hurts. Take me to the hospital…” Inside me was the baby I had been hoping for for two years… “One slap and you’re faking sick?” Victor sneered. “Serena has terminal cancer, and she’s not as dramatic as you.” “Emma, you’ve always been like this—so theatrical,” my mother glared at me. “Serena doesn’t have much time. Can’t you just let her have this?” My brother grabbed me by the hair and forced my head up. “Someone slaps your face and you grab your stomach? Who are you putting on a show for?” They crowded around Serena and left. No one looked back at me. I curled up on the studio floor. Blood stained my phone screen. I finally dialed a number I had buried long ago: “Come get me now. Everything you asked for… I’ll agree to all of it.”

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My wife Mira’s first love moved into our house after he got sick. Mira immediately became gentle and attentive, rushing home from work every day to take care of her first love. I urged her to keep her distance from him. But she said, “I just want to make up for past regrets.” I couldn’t win the argument, so I left home heartbroken. That’s when a woman’s figure blocked my path. I looked up in disbelief to see the woman I’d secretly loved for years, supporting herself awkwardly on crutches, yet with tender eyes. Tears instantly filled my eyes. In that moment, I suddenly understood my wife. I couldn’t help but grasp the woman’s hand and say, “Come home with me. Let me take care of you.” “Why are you only getting back now? Hurry up and get inside. Don’t let the cold air blow in—Liam can’t handle the cold.” “Also, Liam is seriously ill. We need to be careful about his diet. I’m making special meals for him, and you should stop eating all that…” Mira, wearing an apron, froze in place. I didn’t have time to pay attention to her as I carefully helped Anna along. “Be careful. I’m replacing this door tomorrow—the threshold is way too high.” Anna didn’t move. She sighed deeply. “Leo, I appreciate the gesture, but me moving into your house really isn’t appropriate.” “I can manage on my own…” Before she could finish, her left leg started trembling noticeably. I quickly let her lean against me, my heart aching. “How can you manage alone?” “Your leg is in this condition—how can I not worry?” Anna still stood stubbornly at the door, refusing to enter. She was being so careful not to make any sudden movements—where was the confident woman she used to be? Seeing her like this, I felt like I couldn’t breathe from the pain. I looked up, following her gaze, and Mira said in a heavy tone: “You want to bring another woman into this house?” “Did you ask for my opinion?” Anna’s leg could barely support her, and she quietly leaned more weight on me. My heart clenched, and I said angrily: “So what if I bring her in?” “She’s disabled. What could she possibly do?” “She’s already in this condition—don’t you have any compassion at all?” Mira let out a cold laugh. “What does a disabled person have to do with me?” “If people find out my husband brought another woman home and is openly making a fool of me, won’t I be completely humiliated?” “No! I don’t agree!” I was about to argue back. That’s when a man’s weak voice called out from inside. “Mira, where did you go? I feel terrible. Come here quickly!” I felt relieved and said sarcastically: “If people find out my wife brought another man home, I wonder if she’ll have her reputation destroyed?” Mira stared at me intently. “How dare you? How dare you slander Liam?” I shot back without hesitation, “Why wouldn’t I dare?” The man inside started moaning softly. Mira panicked, gritting her teeth. “Don’t disturb Liam.” With that, she hurried toward the inner room. I knew this meant she was backing down for Liam’s sake—she’d agreed. I helped Anna inside. Her foot had long since given out. Once in the house, I quickly had her sit on the sofa. She still said quietly: “Leo, I really shouldn’t intrude on your life…” “I just wanted to see you from afar, but I… it’s all my fault…” “I think I shouldn’t drag you down.” A scoff came from the kitchen. “If you know you’re disrupting someone’s marriage, why are you putting on this act?” I ignored Mira and helped Anna position her crutches properly, saying gently: “Don’t mind her. That’s just how she is.” “Just settle in and stay.”

I carried Anna’s things straight into the guest room. Mira shouted, “Stop right there!” “You’re not seriously going to let another woman live with you?” “Letting her into the house is already my biggest compromise. Are you really going to push it even further?” “Absolutely not!” I didn’t stop walking and continued pulling the luggage into the room. Mira rushed over without even rinsing the soap suds off her hands, grabbed my arm, and demanded: “Have you lost your mind?” I shook off her hand and said, confused: “Liam’s body isn’t comfortable. He can only sleep well on a big bed.” “I’ve already given up the master bedroom. Didn’t you say I could do whatever I wanted with the guest room?” When we got married, neither of us particularly cared about the house. But we still wanted our own little life together after marriage, so we bought a small place. The house only had two bedrooms. Liam had already claimed the master bedroom, half crying and half throwing a tantrum. My things in there were looked down upon—Liam felt there was too much stuff and it made him feel suffocated. So I, along with all my belongings, was forced to move into the guest room. Mira hesitated for a moment, seeming to remember that incident. Her tone softened slightly, but she still frowned. “This isn’t about whether you can do whatever you want.” I said, puzzled, “Then what is it about?” “Anna already has mobility issues, and her legs are still recovering. If she doesn’t sleep in this bedroom, where else would she sleep?” Mira’s temper flared again. “But she’s a woman!” Seeing Mira’s face turn completely red, I finally understood a bit—weren’t these all my own lines from before? I sighed. We really should talk this through properly. “Mira, I was wrong.” Mira also backed down. “Good that you understand.” I looked into her eyes sincerely. “I mean, I finally understand how you feel inside.” “Liam is your first love. Now that you see him suffering, your heart aches.” “Today when I saw Anna, I felt the same way. I don’t think I can just ignore her situation.” “How about this—you take care of Liam, I’ll take care of Anna, and we’ll all get along.” “You can fill in your past regrets, and I can fulfill my past self. Win-win.” But Mira blurted out: “Ridiculous! This is absolutely ridiculous!” I said, confused, “Isn’t this perfect? Besides, you were the one who let Liam move in first. If anyone’s being ridiculous, you were ridiculous first!” Mira stood frozen in place, unable to speak for a long time, but her face was still flushed—clearly she hadn’t thought it through yet. Liam made noise in the master bathroom again. “Mira, come quick!” Mira surprisingly didn’t rush in immediately like before. She stood there, quietly studying me. “Leo, are you using this method to blame me?” Liam’s voice inside was getting louder and louder. I didn’t have time to argue with her, so I pushed her along. “What blame? Just go in already. Liam is a patient—if something happens to him, that wouldn’t be good.” Mira finally left, half-pushed. I also breathed a sigh of relief and quickly sped up my organizing. Anna was sensitive. I needed to go keep her company quickly.

Early the next morning, I walked out of the kitchen carrying the breakfast I’d made and ran into Mira, who was just coming out of the master bedroom. She stammered out an explanation. “Liam didn’t sleep well last night. I stayed with him in the second half of the night.” I looked at her oddly. Wasn’t this her daily routine lately? Why was she explaining herself to me? I nodded blandly and was about to walk past her. Just as I lifted my foot, I heard Mira’s delighted voice. “Leo, I knew it. I’m still the most important person to you.” “These pork buns are my favorite.” I swatted away her reaching hand. “What are you doing?” “Doesn’t Liam have a terrible reaction whenever he smells meat?” “This is specially prepared for Anna.” With that, I walked past her without hesitation toward the living room. I loved eating meat, but once Liam moved in, I was stripped of the right to eat meat at home. It even got to the point where after I ate lamb spine hot pot outside and had a bit of the smell on me, he would make a huge fuss. Liam was like he had a tracking device—he could always smell meat on me. He would yell at me, then immediately cover his nose and dramatically go to the bathroom to run the water at full blast. But later I kept seeing him ordering meat snacks online. When I brought it up, Mira just said, “He’s a patient. Why are you arguing with him?” I shook my head, clearing away these unhappy memories. I walked into the living room and saw Anna, who had been happily greeting me, suddenly become cautious again. I turned around and realized Mira had been following me the whole time. “Leo, thank you so much for all you’ve done!” “I’m so useless. If only my legs weren’t injured!” “You stayed up all night watching over me, and now you’re making me breakfast. I really…” Seeing her somewhat guilty expression, I hurried forward to comfort her. “How could that be? I did all this willingly.” “And your legs—you got injured saving that child. Because of you, he survived that traffic accident.” I was about to continue when Mira behind me exploded. “Didn’t we agree I’d sleep in the study and you’d stay in the living room?” “Leo, you actually spent the entire night in the guest room watching over her?” As her words landed, I noticed Anna lower her head. Anger immediately surged through me. “Mira, her leg is uncomfortable. Of course I need to watch over her.” “Isn’t that the same reasoning as you watching over Liam?” Mira froze, instinctively arguing: “It’s not the same…” “How is it not the same!” I cut her off. “I don’t care about you caring for Liam, so don’t care about me caring for Anna.” At those words, Mira instantly fell silent. She stood there, seemingly lost in thought. I didn’t have time to deal with her. I carried the plate over to Anna. “Anna, this is from your favorite place. It’s definitely delicious.” Anna finally broke into a smile. “Thank you, Leo.” But Mira snatched it away. “What do you mean, ‘Leo’?” “What gives you the right to eat what my husband bought?” “What gives you the right to call my husband that?” Anna murmured, “But he is my Leo…” I looked at Mira, exasperated. “What’s wrong with you?” Liam called out again from inside. Mira surprisingly remained unmoved again, her eyes fixed firmly on me, showing no sign of backing down easily. In the tense standoff, Liam walked out with red eyes.

“Mira, didn’t you hear me calling?” “Or do you also think I’m a burden?” “Maybe I should just leave. I’m only dragging you down by being here.” Liam’s red-rimmed eyes—if this were in the past, I definitely would have rolled my eyes. But now, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Mira quickly denied it. “Liam, how could you be a burden?” “I just didn’t hear you. Hold on, I’ll prepare breakfast for you right away.” Mira practically skipped into the kitchen. Watching Mira leave for Liam’s sake, I breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that Liam had appeared at just the right time. After breakfast, I faced a new problem. I had to go to work, but I wasn’t comfortable leaving Anna at home with them. Anna seemed to sense my concern and said considerately: “Leo, if you have work, go ahead and take care of it.” “I’ve been on my own before. You know my personality—I can handle basic daily life myself.” I glanced toward the kitchen. Mira happened to come out just then and scoffed. “What do you think I am?” “Am I some kind of villain who would attack a disabled person?” I laughed awkwardly. Was I really doubting my own wife’s character? Although Mira had been emotionally unstable lately, she was undoubtedly a good person. I married her because I valued her inherent kindness. In life, she respected her parents, was loyal to her friends, and before Liam arrived, we’d had a very happy married life. At work, she was consistently voted the students’ favorite teacher year after year. She also regularly donated to charities and did volunteer work. I really shouldn’t doubt her. After thinking it through, I could finally go to work with peace of mind. At the office, I was still somewhat worried. Colleagues noticed my distraction, and some even asked about my situation. Finally counting down the seconds until quitting time, I rushed home. The moment I walked through the door, I saw Anna fallen on the floor, looking completely disheveled. I immediately ran over to check on her condition. But Anna forced herself to say: “I’m fine.” Mira sneered, “Of course she’s fine. She’s just pretending.” “Leo, don’t be fooled by how she looks.” Anna lowered her head, pressed her lips together, and her eyes reddened. “Leo, I’m such a burden. All I do in this house is annoy people. You should just let me leave.” That phrase sounded somewhat familiar. Before I could remember where I’d heard it, Mira immediately agreed. “I think she’s right. She’s way too much trouble here. Let her go.” Rage instantly filled me, and I was about to start an argument when I caught sight of Anna’s reddened eyes in my peripheral vision. Almost immediately, I calmed down. Actually, thinking about it carefully, my marriage with Mira was already in name only. Maybe separating would be better. Anna had injured both legs. If she stayed in this house, I didn’t dare imagine what harm she might suffer when I wasn’t around. Leaving truly was the best choice. I nodded. “You’re right.” Mira said happily, “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses.” I looked at her seriously. “Our current situation really does call for separation.” “Mira, let’s get divorced.” Mira said in disbelief, “Leo, what are you saying? Are you divorcing me for a woman with crippled legs?”

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I held my daughter’s depression diagnosis in my hand and pushed open the door to the psychologist’s office. “Doctor, can you tell if a normal person is faking depression?” “I suspect my daughter is pretending to be depressed to avoid the SAT.” The doctor looked at me strangely, but still asked patiently. “Can you tell me about your daughter’s recent behavior? Why do you suspect she’s faking depression?” I thought carefully and answered honestly about my daughter’s situation. “Rachel has been obedient and studious since childhood. She follows the study plan I set for her every day, and her grades have always been first in her class.” “But this time, in the practice test before the SAT, she ranked seventh. After I slapped her, she ran away from home. When she came back, she had this paper, saying she was depressed.” “I’ve been so good to her. I wake up at four in the morning to make her a nutritious breakfast, and I stay up until midnight studying with her. I’m not depressed, so why should she claim to be?” The doctor saw I was getting emotional and quickly stood up to calm me down. “Dear, you don’t have a daughter!”

What did he mean I didn’t have a daughter? I pushed away the psychologist who had just come over to tell me to calm down. I looked at him in disbelief. “Doctor, what are you talking about? How could I not know whether I have a daughter or not?” I took all the documents out of my bag and slapped them on the desk. “See for yourself whether I have a daughter.” “Sammy is me, Rachel is my daughter.” The doctor picked up the documents and examined them carefully. “Ma’am, don’t get excited. Sit down first. Let me ask you a few questions.” “Are you raising the child alone? Where’s the child’s father?” I froze, not wanting to answer this question. “The child’s father has nothing to do with this.” “You’re a strange doctor. I’m starting to doubt whether you’re actually a psychologist.” I often saw online about patients who would put on a doctor’s white coat and impersonate doctors when the real doctor stepped out. This doctor seemed completely unprofessional. “You just questioned whether I have a daughter. Now I question whether you’re really a psychologist. Take out your credentials and let me see them.” The doctor just looked at me with a smile, offering no explanation and not producing his medical license. I was at my wit’s end, and my daughter was still lying at home refusing to go to school. And here someone was making a fool of me. “What a waste of my time.” I grabbed the documents from the desk and was about to leave. Time waits for no one. I had to find evidence that my daughter was faking depression. After all those years of hard study, the SAT was almost here, yet she refused to take it. I couldn’t accept that. Before leaving, I turned and spat on the floor. “Unscrupulous fraud impersonating a doctor.” He still didn’t speak, just shook something in his hand. I looked closely and saw my daughter’s diagnosis report was still in his hand. I snatched it from him and walked straight out the door. As I walked out, I suddenly thought—he was a fraud, but surely not all the other doctors were out of their offices too. I pushed open another office door. I immediately took out the relevant documents and my daughter’s diagnosis. “Doctor, my name is Sammy. This is my daughter Rachel. She insists she’s depressed. I want to ask you, can you tell if a normal person is faking depression?” The doctor seemed curious about my approach, but still picked up the documents to look at them. “You just said your daughter is depressed and that she’s faking it, right?” “So how did you determine she’s faking depression rather than actually being sick?” How else could I determine? She’s my own child—wouldn’t I know her? “She deliberately talks to herself in the middle of the night, crying one moment and laughing the next.” “Every time she waits until I’m asleep, then deliberately wakes me up. This morning she absolutely refused to go to school.” “Doctor, please write me a note proving she’s faking illness. I’ll take it home and show it to her, tell her to stop pretending and get to school.” The more I talked, the angrier I got. The older kids get, the more disobedient they become. To avoid going to school, she was deliberately faking illness. The doctor pushed up his glasses, carefully examined the diagnosis, then looked at me. “Ma’am, I think you’ve really misunderstood your daughter. She may actually be sick.”

“Impossible. Doctor, I’m certain she’s faking.” I answered decisively. “She just doesn’t want to go to school. Yesterday I discovered she used my phone to search for symptoms of depression.” I handed my phone to the doctor, which showed various symptoms of depression. “Doctor, just write me a note saying she’s faking illness. The SAT is coming up soon—she really can’t afford to miss it.” “Missing class all morning, who knows how much she’s falling behind. Why doesn’t she understand my good intentions?” The grievance and bitterness in my heart made me cry. The doctor kindly handed me a tissue and asked again. “Since you’ve always believed she’s faking, why not just send her directly to school?” “Why do you need proof that she’s faking?” At this point, I really needed to explain this properly to the doctor. “I sent her to school before morning reading today. Who knew she’d throw a tantrum at school, shouting that she had depression.” “Doctor, don’t you think she’s deliberately trying to upset me?” “When the teacher saw her like that, they sent her home with me, telling me to show more concern for my child.” “While I wasn’t paying attention, she ran home first and locked herself in her room. No matter how much I called, she wouldn’t open the door.” The doctor was writing notes, seeming to record something. He looked at me and asked again. “What’s your relationship with your daughter usually like?” Did he really need to ask? I raised my daughter single-handedly—of course we’re close. Seeing the doctor’s serious expression, I could only answer patiently. “My daughter and I eat and sleep together. You tell me if the relationship is good or not.” I couldn’t help complaining internally. This doctor didn’t seem professional either, asking such pointless questions. Growing up in a single-parent family, she’d never seen her father. Besides me, she had no other relatives. I was her everything. And of course, my daughter was my everything too. For her sake, I quit my job to work in her school cafeteria, afraid someone might bully her, and it also let me supervise her to make sure she ate well. Fortunately, my daughter was very successful, always first in her class. She made me look good working in the cafeteria. Every time I served food, I’d give her and her classmates a full scoop of meat, never shaking my hand even once. Which of her classmates didn’t envy her for having such a good mother? Thinking of this, I urged the doctor again. “All I want is that note. Doctor, why do you have so many questions?” By now the first class at school was already over. “Can you write it or not? If not, don’t waste my time.” My impression of this clinic was really bad. Suddenly I thought of something. I asked tentatively. “Doctor, just tell me—how much money do you want to write this note?” I’d been careless, forgetting that’s just how things work nowadays. Something that should be simple—if you don’t pay, they hold you up and won’t help. I took out the last thousand dollars or so from home from my bag and looked at the doctor. “That’s all I have. Name your price.” The doctor looked helpless and put the money back in my bag. “I just want to understand your daughter’s real situation carefully. Don’t misunderstand.” “Let me ask you one more question. Please answer honestly.” “Why does your daughter want to fake depression? Did something else happen between you two?” After asking, the doctor looked at me expectantly. I didn’t want to answer this question. I even felt this doctor was really nosy. “You already said she’s faking it. Can’t you just write a note?” “Or are you not a doctor either?”

Small clinics just weren’t reliable. Patients could randomly impersonate doctors. That one earlier was, and now this one apparently was too. Hearing my question, the doctor laughed and pulled out his work ID from his pocket. “I didn’t expect you to be so alert.” “Look, is the photo on this me? Do you have any other doubts?” I looked carefully. He really was a doctor. I felt a bit embarrassed. “Dr. John, I’m really sorry. Just now there was a patient impersonating a doctor from your clinic.” The doctor waved his hand, not caring at all. “It’s fine. I’m the only doctor here.” “You must answer why your daughter wants to fake depression, otherwise I can’t write this note.” “You don’t want to waste time going to another clinic, do you?” Thinking about it, I felt what Dr. John said made sense. So I told him the reason why my daughter was faking illness. “When I was serving food, I heard her classmate say she had a crush on the new math teacher in her class. When I got home, I interrogated her repeatedly, but she refused to admit it.” “Dr. John, tell me, can she be in a relationship with the SAT coming up? Especially with a teacher! I absolutely won’t allow this to happen.” My emotions were getting worked up again. The doctor timely handed me a glass of water. “Don’t get excited, Rachel’s mom. Continue. What happened next?” I drank the water in one gulp and continued. “Then I secretly monitored her at school and finally caught her walking alone with the math teacher.” “In front of all the students, I scolded her severely, then reported the math teacher to the education department.” “He’s shameless, taking advantage of being a recent college graduate to seduce a female student. He was going to ruin my daughter’s entire life!” The doctor followed up. “Was it after this that you noticed your daughter started faking illness?” I shook my head. No, it wasn’t. “She only started faking yesterday. Before, she was just playing dumb. I caught her spacing out in class a few times, not listening carefully.” “Her grades dropped from first in the class to seventh. This was the last practice test before the SAT. You tell me, wasn’t slapping her face not too much?” The doctor didn’t answer. I continued. “I’d never hit her before. I raised her with care since childhood. Hitting her face hurt my heart too.” “But she actually ran away from home. When she came back, she had this psychological diagnosis in her hand, saying she was depressed.” “Kids these days really can’t take a single word of criticism. At home she’s acting crazy and playing sick, just waiting for me to apologize.” As I spoke, Dr. John kept recording, now filling up an entire page. “Doctor, I’ve told you everything. Can you write the note now?” Another class period wasted. My anxiety grew, and I couldn’t help urging him. “Just write on this paper: diagnosis invalid, this person does not have depression. That’s all.” “Cross out this doctor’s name and write yours. What kind of unethical doctor gave this diagnosis…” Before I finished speaking, I took the note and looked at it carefully. The diagnosing doctor’s name was clearly written as John. “What a coincidence, there are so many people named John…” I didn’t think much of it, simply assuming it was the same name. The doctor had finally finished writing and looked up at me. “Do you really not remember me?” What did he mean? When had I ever met him? “Rachel, you were just here yesterday. Have you forgotten already?” “Wake up, Rachel. Think carefully about who you really are.”

Dr. John waved a pocket watch back and forth in front of my eyes. I grabbed it away and threw it aside. “What? You’re that Dr. John? No wonder you kept asking questions and stalling for time.” “You’re the one who diagnosed my daughter with depression. Now she’s treating that paper like a sacred decree and refusing to go to school.” “I’m blaming you for saying she has depression.” Before he could react, I attacked him directly, scratching at his face with my hands. Asking all sorts of random questions—turned out he was the culprit all along. He must have been the one who taught my daughter to talk to herself at night and deliberately fake illness. “Tell me, are you interested in my daughter too? I’ll show you what it means to be shameless, teaching young girls bad things.” “I’m going to report you, you pervert, molesting patients who come for treatment.” I was absolutely furious. How could there be such a doctor? From the beginning, he’d seen the diagnosis and knew he wrote it himself, yet he kept asking questions, looking shifty—clearly not a good person. I’d already scratched his face, but I still wasn’t satisfied. Pointing at him, I cursed. “You…” As soon as I opened my mouth, he stuffed something in it and tied me to a chair. Was this some kind of illegal clinic? I saw him pick up the pocket watch from the floor again and place it in front of my eyes. “Sleep, sleep. Everything will be fine when you wake up.” In a daze, I really fell asleep. I watched myself first come in and argue with him. I walked out of the office, stood at the door for a bit, then came back in and pushed open his office door again. Could it have been just him all along? In an instant, I woke up. When I awoke, I was lying on the sofa in the office. I stood up abruptly, which made me feel dizzy for a moment. “Rachel, are you okay?” Dr. John actually came forward to support my arm, calling my daughter’s name. And he said he hadn’t been seducing my daughter? What did this mean? Psychologists have some dark arts. My daughter must have fallen under his spell too. I didn’t dare open my eyes or make eye contact with him, afraid I’d be hypnotized again if I wasn’t careful. Supporting myself with his hand, I sat on the sofa. I felt my small cloth bag and my phone inside it. While he was turning around, I immediately dialed the emergency number. “Hello, 911? I want to report something. A psychologist used dark arts to hypnotize my daughter, and now he’s trapped me in his office. Please come quickly.” “I’m at a psychological clinic near AB Middle School. The doctor’s name is John. Please send someone quickly.” I looked at my phone. It was already noon. I’d slept for so long. My daughter had missed class all morning. Who knew how much she’d missed? This damn psychologist. He was actually frowning at me. “Bah.” “I’m telling you, I’ve already called the police. Just wait to face legal consequences.” “My perfectly good child came back from your place depressed, threatening to die at home and faking illness.” If I weren’t afraid he’d knock me out again, I’d want to bite him a couple times to vent my anger. The police arrived quickly. When they came in, they looked at us and asked. “Who called the police?” “Officers, I called. I want to see your badges first.” I was genuinely afraid. Everything felt like a dream. The officers cooperatively showed their police badges. I checked each one before returning them. “Officers, I’m reporting that he used his professional position to brainwash my daughter, making her falsely claim she’s depressed and refuse to go to school.” As I was about to continue, the police interrupted me. “Wait, you said your daughter?” “You look barely of age yourself. Where would you have a daughter?”

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My parents spent hundreds of thousands throwing a birthday party at a hotel for my twin sister, Kinsley. Meanwhile, I was working there as a waitress. After five years apart, when they saw me, their faces instantly darkened. But they didn’t want anything to do with me. That is, until they saw me kneeling on the ground, licking up food scraps for a thousand-dollar tip. Mom immediately stepped forward to scold me: “Colleen! I think you’ve gone crazy for money—you’ll do anything!” “If you want money, just say so! Why put on this show and humiliate us on purpose?” I knelt there in embarrassment, head down, saying nothing. Yes, I really would do anything for money. Because without that thousand dollars, I was going to die. Mocking voices surrounded me, everyone waiting to see what I’d do. A thousand dollars really wasn’t much—not even enough to buy a pair of socks for anyone here. But to me, it was everything. Kinsley stood nearby with my parents, but they didn’t stop it. Because they thought it was embarrassing. But when they actually saw me kneel down and lower my head to lick the floor, my parents finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Enough!” The laughter stopped. I froze, then numbly raised my head. Some inexplicable hope stirred in my heart. I saw Kinsley standing between my parents in a haute couture gown, looking like a little princess. Dad’s eyes were red with fury as he said: “Colleen! You know today is Kinsley’s birthday party—why can’t you stop causing trouble even after all these years!” “You’ve made your mother sick with anger! Stop performing—even if you swallow glass, we won’t forgive you!” Almost everyone here knew our family’s situation. They all turned to look at me with condemnation. I lowered my head and smiled bitterly. “I haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t need your forgiveness.” The bite of food I’d just eaten contained shards of glass that had rolled into my mouth. When I spoke, my mouth was full of the taste of blood. But compared to everything else, this pain was nothing. “You!” Even Mom, who’d been silent, stepped forward angrily. Kinsley wiped away tears pitifully: “Colleen, after all the terrible things you did back then, after you pushed Mom down the stairs and left her with permanent health problems…” “Don’t you feel any guilt at all? And now you’re here to ruin my birthday…” Seeing his daughter’s distress and his wife’s pale face, Dad stepped forward. He slapped me hard across the face. Pain shot through me as I fell into the broken glass, blood flowing freely. “After all these years! You still haven’t learned!” Through my dizziness, I looked past Dad. That face identical to mine was watching me with mockery. Even five years later, I remained amazed by Kinsley’s acting skills. But I really had nothing to feel guilty about. Not because I was cold-blooded. But because I wasn’t actually Colleen at all! The Mitchell family had twin daughters. The older sister, Kinsley, was quiet and refined. The younger, Colleen, was rebellious and notorious. Five years ago, my name was still Kinsley. Colleen was naturally rebellious and unmanageable. She bullied classmates at school, had terrible grades, and dabbled in smoking and drinking. Our parents worried constantly about her. I’d been obedient and sensible since childhood, so I didn’t want to add to their troubles. I worked hard at everything, but became invisible at home. Mom hired expensive tutors for Colleen, while I, with my good grades, naturally didn’t need any. Dad personally drove Colleen to and from school every day, while I only had a driver, year-round. When Colleen wanted desserts, they’d wait in line all night, but they’d just transfer money to me and tell me to figure out my own dinner. Even the room I’d lived in since childhood was taken away because Colleen took a liking to it. Mom said: “Colleen says if she switches rooms, she’ll straighten up. You know how exhausting it is for Mom to deal with her.” “You’ve always been so understanding—you get it, right?” I only remember how warm Mom’s hand felt on mine at that moment. So I nodded without thinking. But Colleen didn’t straighten up. Instead, she got worse. Until one day, my parents caught her stealing Grandma’s heirloom that she’d left to Mom. Colleen had sold it for cash and secretly gone to a bar. The heirloom was lost, impossible to recover. My parents were furious and even hit Colleen. In a fit of rage, Colleen actually pushed Mom down the stairs! Amid the chaos, Mom lay in a pool of blood. Realizing what she’d done, Colleen panicked for the first time. She ran away. I didn’t realize then that this would be the beginning of my descent into hell. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have run out to find her, only to be knocked unconscious with a single hit. When I woke up again, our identities had been switched. She’d cut my long hair and styled hers to match mine. By the time I got back to the hospital, Colleen was already at Mom’s bedside. “Dad…” As soon as I approached, Dad kicked me to the ground. Intense pain washed over me. “Colleen, you dare come back! Look what you’ve done!” Dad’s eyes were bloodshot, trembling with rage. “After raising you all these years, this is how you repay us? Do you know that because of you, your mother will have to take medication for the rest of her life?” I’m not! I’m not Colleen! But no matter how I explained, he wouldn’t listen. He just thought I was making excuses. I even knelt at his feet, begging him to really look at me. But in the end, I was mercilessly dragged out of the hospital room. “Starting today, I’m cutting all ties with you, Colleen!” “From now on, whether you live or die has nothing to do with us!” No matter how much I cried out, no one listened. Finally, security dragged me out. As I struggled, I saw Mom wake up. Colleen was obediently giving her water, imitating how I used to act. “Mom has wronged you all these years, Kinsley.” Mom held Colleen’s hand, weak but affectionate. But the real Kinsley had already been thrown out of the hospital.

“I ate it. Can I have the money now?” I stood up expressionlessly and held out my hand to the person who’d challenged me in the first place. Countless glass shards were embedded in my thigh, blood staining my pants. But I was only fixated on getting the money. With a loud crash, Dad knocked my phone out of my hand. It smashed hard against the floor. “Nobody give her any money! Don’t do such disgusting things while wearing Kinsley’s face!” Dad said with disgust. Disgusting? Maybe it really was. In these five years of struggle, as long as it paid, had I done any less dirty, exhausting work? Otherwise I wouldn’t have developed cancer. I rushed to pick up my phone—it was my most valuable possession. I’d bought it with money saved from a year of janitorial work. When I was kicked out, I had nothing. I’d knelt at the front door begging. I’d slept in underpasses. I’d stayed in parks. Finally, I’d faced reality. The name Colleen had such a terrible reputation. Even as a janitor, I was constantly made things difficult for. I’d ended up with various health problems before I could afford this phone. I picked it up with trembling hands. The screen was shattered. Seeing the red chilblains on my hands, Mom’s heart softened. Twin sisters—one as delicate as a flower, the other humble as dirt in the dust. “Just go…” Mom said. “Leave now, and we won’t make things difficult for you. Just stop hurting people!” The handprint on my face, the glass in my thigh, the garbage I’d eaten. All evening, I didn’t know who I’d hurt. I only knew that I was in so much pain. My stomach began cramping violently. I hadn’t had medicine in so long. I needed that money. But in the end, I still didn’t get it. Because once again, I was thrown out by security. I returned to the kitchen in a daze. “Starting today, don’t come back!” the manager said coldly. My lips went white with panic. “Why!” “Why? Keeping you here is just trouble. I hired you because you seemed honest, but I didn’t know you had such connections. We can’t accommodate you here!” The manager shook off my hand without mercy. “What about my wages for this month…” I said anxiously. “Wages? You dare ask for wages? Get out!” The manager slammed the door and left. The Mitchell family was a major client. No one dared offend them. And I was the Mitchell family’s despised enemy, so no one would treat me well. I couldn’t stay here anymore either. But I never expected that in the end, I’d lose both my wages and that thousand-dollar tip. Because Colleen was a sinner who’d done evil, she would never have it easy for the rest of her life. But I’m not Colleen! Why, why did I have to suffer all this? I could only pack my things and return to my dwelling. The damp, cramped basement had no sunlight. But it was my only shelter for these five years. Without this month’s wages, I probably couldn’t even afford the rent for this basement room. The day I was diagnosed with cancer, my life collapsed. I didn’t want to die yet. Cancer hurts so much. I often woke up in the middle of the night in pain, drenched in sweat. My nails scraped hard against the walls, leaving bloody marks, but it still couldn’t stop the pain. Medicine could suppress it, but it was too expensive. So I endured it. I scrimped and saved, just to afford chemotherapy. Now I was just a thousand dollars short. I really needed that thousand dollars. I removed my clothes and used tweezers to extract the glass from my leg. The blood from last night had long since dried. The glass shards were deeply embedded. I had to pull hard to get them out. The pain made my vision go black. My consciousness wasn’t clear, but my parents’ words still echoed in my mind. “From now on, whether you live or die has nothing to do with us!” “Stop hurting people…” Five years had passed, and we’d met again. Every word they said still tugged at my heart. I often dreamed that I was the current Kinsley. That Mom and Dad loved me. When pain woke me from these dreams in the middle of the night… I realized that what I wanted most was simply to go home. Back when I was still Kinsley, my parents didn’t love me. Now that I wasn’t Kinsley anymore, my parents still didn’t love me. Is there a time difference for being loved? No—it’s just that I was the wrong person. I woke again to urgent ringing. “Colleen, today is the last day for payment. If you don’t pay, we can’t schedule your chemotherapy.” It was a nurse from the hospital. “I’m so sorry. Could you please give me a little more time?” I pleaded weakly. “It’s not easy for us either. So many people are waiting to save their lives! We can’t delay others’ lives because of you!” I could only promise to pay by tomorrow. But where was I going to get the money? Just then, someone pounded hard on the basement door. The drunk landlord had come to collect rent. I hadn’t paid rent for two months because I was saving for chemotherapy. I should have gotten my wages last night, but I’d returned empty-handed. I only had two hundred dollars left. The landlord took the two bills with disgust, then slapped them back in my face without mercy. “No money and you still rent? I’ve been sick of looking at you! If you can’t pay rent, get out!” He threw my belongings out of the room like garbage. Finally, he grabbed me and threw me out onto the floor outside the door. Already injured, pain shot through my entire body. I couldn’t get up for a long time. When I came to my senses, the landlord had already locked the door. My belongings were scattered on the ground like trash. The last place in this world that could shelter me had been taken away too.

My broken phone screen lit up. An anonymous text gave only a location. All these years I’d been searching for the heirloom that Colleen had sold. I’d finally found it! With it, whether I was Kinsley or Colleen, I could go home, right? I’d imagined this countless times. Because I was so tired. I missed the old days so much. Even if they didn’t love me, it was okay—as long as I had a home to return to. So I didn’t bother picking up my scattered belongings. I got up and took a five-hour bus ride to get there. Five years ago, that jade bracelet had changed hands several times before being bought by this family. They’d been planning to use it as a wedding gift. “What would it take for you to sell it to me?” I asked urgently. The woman with narrow eyes squinted, then held up a number with her fingers. I froze in place. After hesitating for a long time, I finally took out the card I’d sewn into the lining of my clothes. This money was what I’d been saving for chemotherapy. I was just a thousand short of being able to go. But it was okay. Once I got the jade bracelet home and told Mom and Dad about my cancer… They definitely wouldn’t ignore me. Then I wouldn’t have to hurt anymore. I received the box with both hands, holding it treasured in my arms. Then I took another five-hour bus ride back. After five years, I returned to the front of the Mitchell family villa. As soon as I entered, I saw the three of them eating dinner in the living room, happy and harmonious. Seeing me, Dad’s expression changed drastically. “What are you doing here! You’re not welcome here!” He was about to come push me out the door. Mom stood up, frowning, wanting to speak but hesitating. “I found it—I found the bracelet!” Like offering a treasure, I took the bracelet from my chest. Hearing this, Mom and Dad’s eyes lit up. Mom excitedly stepped forward to receive it, opening the box and examining it carefully. Seeing their happy expressions, I couldn’t help feeling excited. So I carefully told them about having cancer. My parents’ faces instantly went white. After all, I was their biological daughter. After all, they’d doted on me for so many years. No one could remain unmoved. Mom even came forward, took my hand, and her eyes reddened. “What cancer? Don’t be scared—Mom will take you to get treatment!” So warm—it made me dazed for a moment. So I missed the darkness in Kinsley’s eyes behind her. “Are you really sick?” she spoke up, interrupting this tender moment. “Mom, I forgot to tell you—I found this bracelet a few days ago too.” With that, she pulled out an identical jade bracelet from her chest. In that instant, my whole body felt like it had fallen into an ice cellar. Which was real and which was fake became obvious with a comparison. Even Mom reacted to this. Usually gentle, she couldn’t suppress her anger and slapped me hard across the face. Heaven one moment, hell the next. I was knocked to the ground. “I thought you’d turned over a new leaf! To think you’d use something like this to scam money!” “And cancer—why doesn’t cancer just kill you!” she roared. Overcome with rage, Mom suddenly couldn’t breathe and collapsed to the ground. I tried to help her up, but Dad kicked me away. That kick landed right on my stomach. My stomach immediately began cramping violently, a heavy taste of blood surging into my mouth. “People like you deserve to die! Why don’t you just die!” Dad pointed at me and roared. “Having a daughter like you is the greatest shame of my life!” They didn’t even give me a chance to explain. Five years ago, when I explained I wasn’t Colleen, they wouldn’t listen. Five years later, they’d stripped away even the right to explain. Thinking of the joy and warmth from just minutes ago… Thinking of the jade bracelet I’d carefully protected all the way here… The world spun around me. I didn’t even seem to have the strength to breathe. Only one thought remained in my mind. The money I’d saved for chemotherapy—I’d used it all to buy a fake bracelet. It hurt so much. “I’m really dying, Mom and Dad…” Swallowing the blood in my mouth, my voice was hoarse and weak. But no one was moved. “Ha! If you died, everyone would be happy!” Dad helped Mom to the sofa and said mockingly. The disappointment in Mom’s eyes, the hatred in Dad’s eyes, the smugness in Kinsley’s eyes—it all hurt my eyes to look at. Actually, I’d known for a while that even with chemotherapy, I wouldn’t live much longer. But I just wanted to try. Now, there was no need for that anymore. It was pouring rain outside as I was thrown out the door once again. Like garbage. The doors of the Mitchell house had shut me out once more. For the next month, they never saw me again. But no one cared. Because they were busy setting up a charity foundation in Colleen’s name, paving the way for her future. At the press conference, a reporter asked: “I heard you have twin daughters. Why is there so little news about the other one?” Dad’s face went cold as he said sternly: “We only have one daughter, Kinsley. Other irrelevant people—whether they live or die has nothing to do with us!” This completely severed any connection with me. If I’d seen that interview, I might have been heartbroken. But I would never see it. Late at night, Mom woke from her sleep. “Do you think Colleen might really be sick? That day, I found some blood on the floor.” She said worriedly. But Dad just laughed dismissively. “You’re too soft-hearted! What could be wrong with her? Disasters last a thousand years—I think she left it on purpose to make us feel bad!” But Dad, this time you’ll be disappointed. This disaster won’t last a thousand years. An urgent phone ring interrupted his words. He picked up the phone. On the other end was a police officer, speaking in an official, cold tone. “Hello, is this Mr. Mitchell? There’s a body here that needs you to come identify it.”

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“Transfer this $8 million in sales to Lily’s account.” Sales Director Zachary Grant slammed the file in front of me, his tone brooking no argument. Lily was an intern who’d just started yesterday. She couldn’t even use Excel. “Why should I?” I asked. Zachary replied: “Lily just graduated. She needs the sales numbers. You’re a senior employee—you should help new people. Besides, you’re going on maternity leave next month. Even if you win top salesperson, you won’t get promoted. Better to give it to your sister.” $8 million in sales meant a commission of $240,000. He wanted me to gift $240,000 to his little mistress? “What if I don’t transfer it?” “Then forget about maternity leave. Just resign.” I picked up the pen and signed the transfer form. Lily smiled. Zachary smiled too. I smiled as well. They didn’t know that this $8 million client was my ex-husband. An ex-husband who wasn’t just wealthy, but who was currently tearing the world apart trying to find me so we could remarry.

After signing, I capped the pen. Zachary smugly tucked the document into his briefcase—this was his only chip for pushing for vice president this quarter. “Thank you so much.” Lily leaned over, batting her innocent big eyes: “I just got here and don’t know anything. I’ll need Susan to teach me a lot from now on. This client… is he mean?” I looked at her. Skin so smooth you could squeeze water from it, eyes as clear as a college student’s. Unfortunately, she was an idiot. “Not mean at all.” I smiled. “Mr. Caldwell really likes innocent young girls. You should’ve deliberately fallen into his arms. He eats that right up.” “Really?” Lily’s eyes lit up. “Like in those short videos?” “Exactly.” Zachary listened from the side, his expression approving: “Susan, that’s the right attitude. Training new employees is your responsibility as a supervisor. When Lily closes this deal, I’ll save you a spot for the Outstanding Employee award at year-end.” Outstanding Employee. A $2,000 bonus. He took my $240,000 commission and wanted to buy me off with $2,000. “Thank you, Mr. Grant.” I stood up. “I’ll head back now. My morning sickness has been pretty bad these past few days.” I turned and walked out of the office. The moment the door closed, I heard laughter inside. “She’s so dumb, signing just like that.” “Of course. Pregnant women are the easiest to manipulate. Would she dare not sign? If she didn’t, I’d cut her maternity pay and kick her out.” “So that bag you promised to buy me…” “I’ll buy it! Once this commission comes through, I’ll get you whatever you want!” I touched my slightly swollen belly. I was a single mom. In this city, with no house and no car, I relied entirely on this job to support myself and the baby inside me. Zachary knew this perfectly well. He thought that for my salary, for my leave, I could only swallow my anger. If this were the old Susan, maybe I really would have endured it. But this time was different. I pulled out my phone and opened my contacts. In the blocked list lay a name: Adrian Caldwell. Also known as the “$8 million big client” in Zachary’s mouth. Also known as the madman who’d nearly turned Sea City upside down looking for me. Adrian and I had been divorced for three years. We divorced because he was too busy—so busy that his assistant came to sign for my appendicitis surgery, so busy that I blew out birthday candles alone. I didn’t lack money. I lacked love. So I left. Left cleanly, changed my phone number, changed cities. He searched for me like a madman. He’d been searching for three years. I never let anyone know about my past. In my colleagues’ eyes, I was a single mom abandoned by a scumbag. In Zachary’s eyes, I was a nobody with no connections, someone to be slaughtered at will. My phone vibrated. A text from the bank. Mortgage deduction: -$6,800. Balance: $3,205.40. This was everything I had. Originally, that $240,000 was meant to be saved for the baby’s formula and my postpartum care. Now Zachary had snatched it away to buy bags for his mistress. Perfect. People need not only a bottom line but also teeth. Since you won’t act human, don’t blame me for letting the dog loose. Lily posted a new Instagram. A selfie. The background was my workspace. She held Adrian’s project materials, making a peace sign. Caption: “Hardworking girls will have good luck! I’ll do my best!” A row of colleagues liked it below. Even Zachary commented: “Promising future.” I opened Adrian’s profile. Removed him from my blocked list, then sent him a message: “You there? Let’s talk.” Less than three seconds after I sent it, he called. “Susan? Is it you? Susan?” “It’s me.” “Where are you?” His voice instantly grew urgent. “Send me your location! I’ll come right now! I…” “Fine. Tomorrow afternoon at three, HongTech, conference room. I’ll be waiting for you to sign the contract.” “HongTech?” He paused. “You work at that company?” “Yes.” “Okay, I’ll definitely be there.” “There’s one more thing I need your help with.” “Tell me. I’ll give you anything you want.” A cold smile curved my lips. “Tomorrow, pretend you don’t know me.” “What?” “Not only pretend you don’t know me, but take good care of my colleague.” Silence on the other end for one second. Then came Adrian’s low, dangerous voice with a hint of pleading. “Who bullied you?” “You’ll find out tomorrow.” “Okay.” He said. “Susan, as long as you’re willing to see me, I’ll commit murder or arson.”

The next day. The entire sales department was on high alert. Zachary wore the custom suit he’d only worn at his wedding, his hair slicked back so shiny a fly would do the splits landing on it. Lily was even more dressed up. Short skirt, black stockings, low-cut top. Heavy makeup, perfume so strong it could knock you over from six feet away. “Susan, how do I look?” She turned to ask me. I was sitting in the corner eating bread—my lunch. “Pretty good.” I nodded sincerely. “Very… professional.” Nightclub professional. “That’s a relief.” She relaxed, proudly pushing out her chest. “Mr. Grant said Mr. Caldwell, being such a big boss, sees career women all the time and prefers someone delicate like me.” I suppressed a laugh. Adrian hated perfume more than anything. He had severe rhinitis. And he especially hated women who dressed like they were going clubbing during business meetings. He was a typical abstinent workaholic. Back when I tried to match his preferences, my closet was full of black, white, and gray business attire. I only dared wear faint woody fragrances. Lily waved the folder in her hand. “Mr. Grant said if I close this deal, I’ll be converted to a permanent position. I’ll treat you to boba tea then.” “No need.” I swallowed the last bite of bread. “Keep it for yourself. After all…” After all, this might be your last meal in this industry. “After all what?” “Nothing.” I grabbed a napkin and wiped my mouth. “Good luck.” 2:50 PM. A convoy of black Maybachs stopped downstairs from the company. Quite the spectacle. Zachary led the entire sales department to line up at the entrance in welcome. I stood at the very end, like a ghost. The car door opened. First came four bodyguards in black. Then a pair of shiny leather shoes, long legs. Adrian stepped out. Three years later, he was thinner, the sharp edge in his eyes even heavier. Zachary immediately rushed over with a fawning smile, bowing at a ninety-degree angle. “Mr. Caldwell! Welcome, welcome! I’m Sales Director Zachary Grant. I’ve heard so much about you!” Adrian didn’t look at him. His gaze swept through the crowd like radar. Finally, it locked onto me in the corner. I looked at him expressionlessly and shook my head slightly. His eyes instantly turned cold as an ice cellar as he strode inside. In the conference room. Zachary gave the head seat to Adrian. “Mr. Caldwell, we take this project very seriously. We’ve specially assigned our department’s most promising… that one, Lily!” Lily swayed over. “Hello, Mr. Caldwell~” That greeting had a sugar content of four pluses. She carried a cup of coffee, her body practically pressing against Adrian. “Mr. Caldwell, I specially ground this coffee for you. Careful, it’s hot~” Adrian recoiled like he’d seen something filthy. “Achoo!” “Mr. Caldwell, are you alright?” Lily panicked and reached out to pat his back. “Is the air conditioning too cold?” “Get away!” Adrian shot to his feet, swatting her hand away. The movement was too forceful—the coffee cup toppled. Brown liquid splashed all over Lily and onto Zachary’s face. Lily froze in place, tears welling in her eyes: “Mr… Mr. Caldwell?” “Who told you to get so close?” Adrian pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his hands in disgust. “Is this HongTech’s hospitality?” Zachary’s face went white with fear as he frantically wiped his face with tissues: “A misunderstanding! Mr. Caldwell, this is a misunderstanding! Lily’s new, she doesn’t know better…” Adrian sneered. “This kind of trash can get into your company? Are you running a nightclub?” I lowered my head, my shoulders trembling slightly. From suppressing laughter. Lily burst into tears with a wail. “What are you crying for!” Zachary roared. “Get out!” Lily covered her face and ran out. Zachary rubbed his hands awkwardly: “Mr. Caldwell, please calm down. How about… I present the proposal?” “Are you qualified?” “I’ve seen your proposal. It’s garbage.” Zachary’s smile froze on his face. “But this is… this is our best…” “Who made it?” Adrian interrupted him. Zachary’s eyes darted around. “Originally… Susan made it.” He pointed to me in the corner. “But she’s incompetent, her thinking is confused. Later Lily took over and revised it.” Good grief. Just now he said it was Lily’s achievement. Now that something went wrong, it became mine. Adrian followed his finger and looked at me. “Oh?” He raised an eyebrow. “Susan?” “Yes, yes, it’s her! Mr. Caldwell, it’s all because she’s incompetent! This proposal was mainly her responsibility. I said from the start she wasn’t up to it. You see…” “Since she was responsible for it.” Adrian interrupted him. “Then let her present it.” Zachary frantically waved at me: “Susan! What are you standing there for? Come present the proposal to Mr. Caldwell!” As he spoke, he desperately gave me meaningful looks. Meaning: Hold it together. If you screw this up, you’re fired. Everyone’s eyes focused on me. Some sympathetic, most waiting for the show. I walked to the projector. Without a USB drive, without documents. “Mr. Caldwell.” I spoke, my voice calm. “The proposal doesn’t need presenting.” “Why not?” “Because that proposal is indeed garbage.” Zachary gasped. “Susan! What nonsense are you talking! Do you want to get fired!” I ignored him and continued looking at Adrian. “The real proposal is in my head.” “The $8 million order includes three phases. Phase one focuses on smart upgrades, accounting for 40% of the budget. But I believe your company’s pain point isn’t hardware—it’s data integration.” “If we follow the original proposal, you’d just be swapping in a batch of more expensive computers. But if we follow my approach, it could save your company 15% in operating costs annually.” I spoke for three minutes straight. Professional, precise, hitting the nail on the head. This was the real proposal I’d stayed up three nights working on. Not the watered-down garbage I gave Lily. Adrian watched me. His Adam’s apple bobbed. His expression shifted from appreciation to infatuation. “Good.” “Very good.” He stood up and even clapped twice. “This is the proposal I want.” He turned to look at Zachary, his gaze instantly switching back to looking-at-garbage mode. “Mr. Grant, you just said this proposal was revised by… who?” Zachary was sweating bullets: “Mr. Caldwell, this… this…” “I think Mr. Grant isn’t that old. How did you go blind?” Adrian said coldly. “Such an excellent talent, and you say she’s incompetent?” “Or are you… trying to steal her credit?” Zachary’s legs went weak: “No… that’s not it! A misunderstanding! All a misunderstanding!” Adrian sneered and looked at me. “Miss Susan, I admire your proposal very much.” “For this deal, I’ll only sign with you.” Zachary was overjoyed: “Good, good! Signing with Susan is the same! It’s all the company’s achievement!” “Wait.” I spoke up. “Mr. Caldwell, before signing the contract, I have a few conditions.” “First, this deal’s performance must be credited to my personal account. The commission points must be written clearly in black and white in the contract—$240,000, not a penny less. And it must be paid immediately.” Zachary’s expression changed: “Susan, company policy…” “Second.” I interrupted him. “I’m taking maternity leave. All maternity benefits will be executed at the highest standard. If anyone dares dock a single penny, I’ll go to labor arbitration.” Zachary gritted his teeth: “You…” “Third.” I smiled and pointed to the door. “That girl named Lily—I don’t want to see her in the company again.” “Because I’m allergic to cheap perfume.” “Susan! Don’t push it!” Zachary finally couldn’t hold back. “Are you the supervisor or am I? You think you can fire whoever you want?” “Mr. Grant.” Adrian suddenly spoke. “I think Miss Susan’s suggestions are very reasonable.” “If you don’t agree…” He adjusted his cuffs, his tone casual. “Then this $8 million deal is off.” “Also, I’ll let all my friends in the industry know.” “HongTech’s integrity is questionable.” That one sentence was Zachary’s death sentence. Finally, he ground his teeth and squeezed out a few words: “Fine… I agree.” I smiled. “Mr. Grant is generous.” I turned to look at Adrian. “Mr. Caldwell, shall we… discuss the details over dinner tonight?” Adrian’s eyes lit up as he nodded frantically. “Yes! I’m free! I’m free right now!” He looked exactly like a golden retriever waiting for its owner’s touch.

Outside the company entrance. Adrian transformed into a different person. He grabbed my hand, his grip so tight it felt like he’d crush my bones. “Susan!” I shook off his hand. “Mr. Caldwell, please show some restraint.” “This is right outside the company.” He froze in place, as awkward as a child who’d done something wrong. “I’m sorry… I got too excited.” “These three years, where did you go? I nearly went crazy looking for you.” “Do you know why I didn’t want to see you?” I looked at him coldly. “Because you’re a lunatic.” “Yes, I’m a lunatic.” He smiled bitterly. “Without you, I can’t be normal.” He looked at my belly. His expression was impossibly complex. “The child… whose is it?” I touched my belly. “Not yours, anyway.” Adrian’s face instantly turned deathly pale, his fists clenched so hard they cracked. “Where’s the man?” “Dead.” I said flatly. “Dead?” He froze for a moment, then a strange light burst in his eyes. “Good that he’s dead… good that he’s dead!” “Now no one can compete with me.” “Susan, I don’t mind.” He rushed over and grabbed my shoulders. “I really don’t mind. I’ll raise him as my own. Come home with me, okay?” “Adrian, how desperate for love are you?” “I only want you.” His eyes were red. “As long as you’re by my side, I can endure anything.” I pushed him away. “But I don’t want to endure.” “I contacted you today only to use you.” “Now that I’m done using you, you can leave.” Adrian didn’t get angry. Instead, he smiled. “Using me means I still have value.” “Susan, since you’re using me, use me thoroughly.” “That Zachary—do you think this is the end?” I frowned: “What do you mean?” “Someone like him—tonight’s dinner is the real show.” “Do you want to completely destroy him?” I looked at Adrian. “What do you want to do?” “I don’t want to do anything.” He straightened his tie. “I just want to help you… take out the trash.” 7 PM that evening. In a private room at the seafood restaurant, smoke filled the air. Zachary didn’t invite the big boss because he wanted to play dirty. Besides me and Adrian, there were three unfamiliar men in the room. Mr. Wilson, who dealt in building materials—notorious as a dinner table predator. “Mr. Wilson, this is Susan.” Zachary smiled disgustingly. “Not only is she excellent at business, her alcohol tolerance is legendary.” Mr. Wilson squinted as he looked me over, his gaze lingering on my slightly swollen belly for a second before a lewd smile appeared. “Miss Susan, you’re pregnant?” I looked at him coldly: “Yes.” “Pregnancy is good. Pregnancy has charm.” Mr. Wilson raised a glass of liquor. “Come, Miss Susan, this one’s for you.” A full glass of high-proof liquor. Zachary chimed in from the side: “Susan, Mr. Wilson is a key supplier for our project. You need to give him face.” “I’m not drinking.” Mr. Wilson’s face darkened. “If you don’t drink this today, I’ll cut off building materials tomorrow. Let’s see how you explain that to the big boss!” Adrian sat in the main seat, playing with his lighter. He said nothing. He was waiting for me to beg him. Three years ago it was the same—I wouldn’t bow my head, so he wouldn’t extend his hand. The game between us had always been about who would soften first, who would surrender first. But my greatest strength has always been my stubborn spine. “Cut off supply?” I pulled out my phone. “I’ll contact backup suppliers right now.” Mr. Wilson slammed his palm on the table. “Ungrateful bitch!” He stood up, his greasy fat hand reaching directly for my shoulder. “Acting all high and mighty? Pregnant and still coming out to drink with clients—who knows whose bastard…” His hand never touched me. A wine bottle exploded on his head. “CRASH!” Glass shards flew, mixed with red wine, flowing down Mr. Wilson’s face like blood. Adrian held the remaining half of the bottle, his face sinister. “Mr… Mr. Caldwell?” Mr. Wilson covered his head, scared stiff. Zachary was so frightened he’d crawled under the table. “You think you’re worthy of touching her?” He kicked Mr. Wilson in the stomach, knocking him to the ground. Then he stepped on Mr. Wilson’s chest, bent down, and pointed the sharp glass at his eyeball. “She’s mine.” “The child in her belly is also mine.” “Who did you call a bastard?” I was stunned. Adrian had gone crazy? He actually publicly claimed this “bastard”? Mr. Wilson literally pissed himself—really pissed himself. A foul smell spread. “Mr. Caldwell, spare me! I didn’t know this was your wife! I didn’t know!” Adrian withdrew his foot in disgust. “Get lost.” Mr. Wilson scrambled away on all fours. Zachary crawled out from under the table, trembling all over: “Mr… Mr. Caldwell, this…” “You too. Get lost.” Adrian didn’t even look at him. Zachary fled as if pardoned, running faster than a rabbit. Only the two of us remained in the private room. Adrian threw down the bottle and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his hands. Then he turned and approached me step by step. That oppressive presence made me instinctively back away until my waist hit the table—nowhere left to retreat. He braced his hands on either side of me, caging me in his territory. “Susan.” He spoke through gritted teeth, his voice hoarse. “I just saved you.” “As repayment, tell me.” “Who is that man?” I looked into his bloodshot eyes. “Didn’t Mr. Caldwell just say it was yours?” “That was to protect your reputation!” He roared. “But…” He took a deep breath and buried his head in the crook of my neck. “But if you’re willing to come back to me.” “I can play dumb.” “Just don’t disappear again.” My heart jolted sharply. This man, proud to his very bones, had humbled himself to dust for me. Too bad. The more he did this, the less I could turn back. I pushed him away and straightened my clothes. “Mr. Caldwell, thank you for earlier.” “I forgot to tell you—I got married to my boyfriend last month.” “Please maintain appropriate boundaries.” I grabbed my bag and fled from the private room. Behind me came the sound of shattering plates. And Adrian’s desperate roar: “Susan! You don’t have a fucking heart!”

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My fiancé, Derek Stone, deliberately pursued the girl who bullied me in middle school—Vivian Ford—to get revenge for me. He promised me: “After I punish her a hundred times, I’ll dump her immediately and marry you!” But when his punishment game ended, he brought Vivian home from the psychiatric hospital. Afterwards, he casually instructed me: “Vivian has a mental illness and doesn’t remember you anymore. She can’t handle any more stress, so I told her you’re our housekeeper. Also, she’s been having nightmares and needs me to sleep beside her, so you’ll be staying in the guest room from now on.” Everyone was waiting to see me humiliated, but I calmly accepted it all. Derek said with satisfaction: “You’re doing the right thing! Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you from now on.” Six months later, I dragged my luggage out, ready to leave. But Vivian urged me to stay, and Derek threw out a bank card: “Eight million dollars. Stay and take care of Vivian.” I didn’t take it. He didn’t know—this time, I was really leaving him.

“If the money’s not enough, I can add more. You can’t leave.” Meeting my reddened eyes, Derek said frantically: “Vivian’s pregnant again. She needs someone to make her nutritious meals.” His words made me laugh. I had been forcibly injected with large amounts of hormones by Vivian in the past, which damaged my reproductive system. He had promised me with tears in his eyes that he would make sure Vivian could never have children. Now, she was pregnant again. I only remembered that last time, when Vivian miscarried because I gave her the wrong medication, I was stripped naked and locked in the morgue for eight hours, developing severe hypothermia. Seeing that I didn’t respond and just kept walking, Derek tried to make me stay for the first time ever. “I know you don’t like bland food. After Vivian finishes eating, I can take you out to eat.” As soon as he finished speaking, Vivian in his arms suddenly curled up and clung to him. “Derek, my stomach hurts…” Derek’s expression instantly became frantic. He swept Vivian up in his arms and barked an order at me to call the family doctor. I obediently dialed the number. While he was taking care of Vivian, I turned to leave, but Derek grabbed my wrist and scolded me sharply: “Vivian’s in this condition and you still want to leave? How can you be so vicious?” Me, vicious? I laughed bitterly. “If I were vicious, I wouldn’t have called the doctor for her.” Next thing I knew, he yanked me down to my knees. “Apologize!” My knees slammed hard onto the marble floor, and my ankle twisted at a grotesque angle. I didn’t make a sound. “If you hadn’t been so difficult, insisting on leaving home, would Vivian’s stomach hurt? Don’t you owe her an apology?” I took a deep breath, thinking of the people abroad waiting for me to follow up on the project. I lowered my head. “I’m sorry…” Without changing my expression, I snapped my ankle back into place and asked softly: “Can I go now?” Staring at my severely swollen ankle, he threw me onto the sofa. “Your foot’s all swollen and you’re still causing trouble. If it weren’t for you, Vivian wouldn’t have become mentally ill. What’s the point of putting on this disgusting act?” The family doctor arrived quickly. After calming Vivian down, the doctor came over to examine my foot with a pitying look. “The ligaments are almost completely torn. Don’t put weight on it, try not to walk much, or it might develop into a fracture. I’ll prescribe you—” “Mmm…” Vivian let out a perfectly timed moan. Derek instantly exploded in rage, pointing at the doctor and cursing: “The pregnant woman isn’t treated yet, why are you bothering with her! It’s just a sprained ankle, she won’t die. If something happens to Vivian, how will you take responsibility?” Vivian wrapped herself around Derek’s waist. “I want some water.” Derek looked around, grabbed a pair of scissors from the medical kit, and hurled them at me. “What are you standing there for? Go get Vivian some water!” I wiped the blood trickling from my forehead into my eye and limped away. After Vivian drank the water and fell sweetly asleep, Derek finally spoke as if granting me a favor: “Treat your wound too, so you don’t scare Vivian when she wakes up.” When he turned around, he found I had already bandaged myself with gauze. Alcohol, ice packs, gauze—I kept these supplies on hand every day and had to restock them frequently. His eyes showed a moment of surprise. “I’ll take you to get scar removal treatment tomorrow. I won’t let you be disfigured.” I thanked him perfunctorily. Back in my room, I sent that person a message.

“Give me a few more days. Let me handle things here first.” He called me urgently: “Didn’t we agree on six months? Are you having second thoughts?” “No, there’s just some trouble. I need a little more time.” “The professor’s recommendation letter should arrive soon. Check for it and register your name at the branch office.” In the middle of the night, I woke up tormented by chest tightness and heart palpitations. I reached for the medication on my nightstand and swallowed it in one gulp. But the symptoms didn’t ease—they got worse. Nausea, a dull pain in my frontal lobe, wave after wave. Painful memories I had temporarily forgotten all came flooding back into my mind. I couldn’t help grabbing any sharp object nearby and scraping it hard across my skin. I didn’t sleep all night. At dawn, I discovered that the medication on my nightstand had been replaced with vitamins! Blood rushing through my body, I ignored the intense dizziness and charged straight into Derek’s master bedroom, grabbing him by the collar. “Derek, did she switch out my emergency antidepressants?” My finger pointed at Vivian in his arms. I was disheveled, like a madwoman. The next second, he covered my mouth and forcibly dragged me out of the bedroom. Once again thrown onto the cold floor, I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. Laughing at myself for forgetting the pain once the wound healed. Last time, Vivian had secretly unfastened my climbing safety harness, causing me to fall from eight meters high. After I came out of the ICU, the man gently comforted Vivian, then turned to me with harsh words: “If you don’t have the ability, don’t do extreme sports anymore. Look how scared you made Vivian.” Seeing him carefully close the door, afraid of waking the person inside, I asked with some desperation: “Do you know what it’s like when depression attacks…” He cut me off. Without saying a word, he quickly pulled me to the living room. “I know you’re suffering. But if you just endure it, it’ll pass. If Vivian gets stimulated, she could suffer brain death!” “I drove her to mental illness for your sake. Can’t you show her a little more tolerance?” I sneered mockingly. “How else should I be tolerant? Wash my neck clean and hand her a knife to play with?” “You…” He glanced at the bedroom and issued a command like a favor: “I promise you, after she gives birth, we’ll get married. But in front of her, you have to keep playing the role of housekeeper and accommodate her in everything.” He looked at the time, assumed I had agreed, and went back to accompany Vivian without looking back. I opened my phone and asked the doctor for another bottle of medication. “Has your condition gotten worse? You need to manage your emotions. Don’t let it develop into severe depression.” I comforted the doctor instead, not telling him why I was going through the medication so fast. It was late morning when Vivian finally woke up moaning. “Derek, my chest feels tight…” Derek panicked instantly, holding her tightly to comfort her. When the doctor said the cause was accidentally taking antidepressant medication, his eyes darkened with unclear emotions. “Derek, I just thought the things Elena ate in front of me looked delicious. I didn’t mean to…”

I sat to the side, indifferent, remotely replying to my project partners’ questions. My phone was suddenly knocked to the ground. The screen cracked from one corner and completely shattered. Last time my phone cracked in one corner, he said he’d take me to get it fixed. He never kept that promise. “Don’t you know to hide such dangerous medication when you take it? Are you happy now that Vivian took it by mistake?” I was stunned by the scolding. My phone kept vibrating. “Who’s messaging you?” Derek was furious. Without even looking, he stomped on it and crushed it completely. The vibrations stopped. I said nothing, just knelt down numbly and picked up the glass shards with my bare hands. I stood up, looked him straight in the eye, and decisively shoved the glass pieces into Derek’s mouth. I had no computer. All the data I had just been transferring hadn’t been backed up. Everything was destroyed in Derek’s hands. He was shocked and suspicious, using both hands to pull the glass from his mouth. “What are you doing, you psycho!” I was as calm as a real psycho. “Just demonstrating what a psychotic mental state looks like.” Meeting my eyes, he hesitated for a moment. “Mmm…” Vivian whimpered and began crying softly. Derek instantly rushed to her, picked her up, and ran toward the hospital. With tweezers, I picked out the glass shards from my palms one by one, then went out to buy a new phone. When I returned to the villa, Derek was sitting on the sofa with a dark expression, holding a recommendation letter in his hand. “You’re joining Azure Lotus?” Before I could answer, he tapped the recommendation letter on the coffee table. “Give this recommendation letter to Vivian.” I thought I had misheard and asked in disbelief: “Give it to her? You expect a mentally ill girl with no knowledge to go to Azure Lotus?” As soon as the words left my mouth, he slapped my left cheek numb. It swelled up high. From the corner of my eye, I could see his right hand was also trembling slightly. “I caused her to be delayed two years in graduation. Her career has been struggling ever since. I looked into it—it’s just a nominal position. You can help her with the work she can’t complete.” I pressed my tongue against my swollen cheek with a half-smile. How come when I was forced to drop out of high school and go abroad, no one thought to compensate me? “Fine, you give it to her.” With that, I walked past him, sat on the sofa, and started booking a plane ticket. The second before my phone was snatched away, I locked the screen. “What have you been doing lately?” I was used to his inconsistent controlling behavior. “If you want to know, just open the phone and look, won’t you?” But even when the phone showed it was locked, he never opened it. The password had always been my birthday. I had repeated it countless times. He never remembered it. I snatched it back. “Let me tell you how long it’s been. It was yesterday.” I didn’t know if he felt even a moment of guilt in his heart. I only saw him flee in panic. Tonight’s dinner was made by a hired housekeeper, all sweet dishes. I frowned and picked at a few bites. A piece of mango cake was pushed in front of me. “Not to your taste?” I casually tossed it in the trash. His expression turned ugly. “How can Elena waste food?” Vivian immediately squatted down, trying to dig through the trash can for something, but Derek stopped her in time. I was dazed, remembering when Vivian had forced my head into a bathroom trash can to search for a necklace with my mouth. “Stop being unreasonable!” Derek’s angry shout pulled me back to reality. The dishes in front of me trembled from the force. “Derek, I can’t eat high-sugar foods. And I’m allergic to mangoes.” The man’s rage immediately died down. He stared at the mango cake in the trash, lost in thought.

“Hiss~” Vivian’s hand was somehow cut by something sharp in the trash can. Derek’s mind went blank. He only cared about her wound. “Derek, I remember you said you’d take me to the beauty salon for scar removal. How about tomorrow?” Vivian’s eyes immediately filled with tears: “But you promised to help me water the flowers…” Derek’s expression showed difficulty. I said calmly: “I’ll go by myself.” The next day, as soon as I left the villa, I called my friend abroad. “Today’s the day. Contact them and send a car to pick me up at the airport directly.” I chose a spot without surveillance cameras to wait for the car, not wanting Derek to know my whereabouts. But within minutes, I was surrounded by a group of people. “Elena, the beautiful girl returns home and doesn’t even tell us old classmates?” These were the people who had bullied me alongside Vivian back then. Seeing them, my blood froze. Discomfort instantly swept through my entire body. With a thread of rationality, I reached for my medication, but just before it reached my mouth, someone nearby snatched it away. “I heard people with severe depression will kill themselves? We’ve never seen that before!” I was surrounded until I couldn’t see a ray of sunlight. I curled up in agony. But someone grabbed the hair on the back of my head tightly, forcing me to display my anguished expression before their eyes. “There are no cameras here. Even if we played you to death, no one would know.” In the chaos, someone pulled my hair, someone slapped me, someone tore at my clothes, and camera flashes blinded me. “Stop it!” Everyone uniformly released me. I saw Vivian pick up my dust-covered medication from the ground and shove it into my mouth. “Why did you save me?” Vivian showed me that all-too-familiar smile, like a coiled venomous snake. Only then did I realize—everyone had been fooled. She never had a mental illness at all. “Naturally because I’m afraid you’ll die.” “I can only be this unrestrained because of Derek’s guilt. But if you died, how would I know who he feels more guilty toward?” “I want you to live consciously and watch how I toy with you.” She helped me up and straightened my clothes and hair. Before I could react, she grabbed my hand and leaned backward provocatively. “Vivian!” Derek finally found the “lost” Vivian and rushed straight to her, completely ignoring my disheveled state. “They were bullying Elena. I helped her, but she tried to hit me. My stomach hurts so much…” Derek swept her up in his arms, kissing away the tears at the corners of her eyes tenderly. He turned his head and glared coldly at me. “Ungrateful! They should have beaten you to death!” I stood there thunderstruck. The successive mental shocks left me somewhat dazed. Watching the car drive away, leaving me alone, I ignored the people watching and laughing behind me and limped away. Two hours later, carrying only my passport, I got out of the car at the airport. Before the plane took off, I received a message from Derek: [Vivian’s at her prenatal checkup. Come over and get examined too. Give her a proper apology.]

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Maxwell was in a meeting when he accidentally opened a hidden folder, exposing sex videos of himself and his secretary, Vivian. To protect Vivian’s privacy, he forcibly dragged me onto the stage and publicly announced our ten-year relationship. “This is just a private hobby between Winona and me. It was my mistake. Please don’t judge her.” After we left the stage, I begged him desperately: “I’ve done everything you asked. Now please bring my mom back from the mountains. There’s a bear attack happening there!” But his secretary Vivian chose that moment to hand me a set of lingerie—the exact set she wore in the video: “Winona, to make sure everyone believes you’re the woman in the video, please put on this lingerie and take a few photos.” Under Maxwell’s coercion, I changed into the lingerie. Soon, my photos were circulating around the company. I became everyone’s laughingstock. I endured the humiliation, only hoping Maxwell would hurry and save my mom. But when I got home, the police delivered my mother’s suicide note.

“The bear is going to eat me. Winona, maybe it’s better if I die. Then you can finally escape Maxwell’s control.” A bloodstained piece of cloth, a few bone fragments—these were the last traces my mother left in this world. The officer delivering the note looked devastated. “Ms. Rivers, my condolences. By the time we received the distress call and reached the scene, this was all that remained. The bear had vanished without a trace.” My tears flowed uncontrollably. Maxwell—all the love I once felt for this man had completely dried up. After learning from the officer where they’d found my mother’s remains, I rushed to those mountains without stopping. Even finding just a little more trace of my mother would be a blessing. As I approached the location, I heard moaning sounds. When I got closer, I felt like I was going mad. “Maxwell, you’re so bad. Isn’t it enough that you torment me all the time? Now you have to exhaust me while camping in these remote mountains.” Vivian clung intimately to Maxwell’s neck, her face showing pure pleasure. “Maxwell, you really are heartless, making Winona take the blame for me. She’s been in a relationship with you for ten years.” “Getting to publicly announce our relationship made her so happy inside, how could she care about anything else?” “That woman gets so excited she can’t sleep all night just from hearing me say I like her.” Maxwell spoke these cold words so casually, and they pierced straight through my heart. My heart felt like it was being squeezed tight. Pain and bitterness surged up together. I had indeed loved him to my bones, willing to stay with him for ten years without any official status. Even when he used my mother to threaten me, I couldn’t bring myself to let go. But I never imagined that all my devotion was nothing but a joke to him, something he never took seriously. Bitterness spread through my mouth. I finally understood just how pathetic my one-sided love had been. Before I could retreat, Vivian’s sharp eyes spotted me and she shouted my name in fake surprise. “Winona, what are you doing here? Have you been stalking Maxwell this whole time?” “That’s so creepy.” Hearing my name, Maxwell’s smile vanished instantly. He stared straight at me. I lowered my eyes, unwilling to meet his gaze. I was afraid he’d see the flames of revenge burning in my eyes. But Maxwell thought I was feeling guilty. He threw on a shirt and walked up to me. He gripped my chin tightly, his voice ice-cold. “Winona, do you really like me this much? Enough to do something as disgusting as stalking?” “Since you like it so much, I’ll satisfy you.” The moment he finished speaking, he planted a heavy kiss on my lips. His kiss was full of domination and superiority, as if this was a reward he was granting me. But I only felt disgusted. His actions, his smell, his very existence—all of it disgusted me. I bit down hard on his lip. The taste of blood spread through my mouth. Maxwell pulled back in pain, staring at me in disbelief. The next second, he grabbed my throat tightly. “Stop playing these boring games with me.”

Before he could say anything more vicious, Vivian behind him let out a terrified scream. “There’s a bear!” In the distance, a massive bear was slowly walking toward us. Even Maxwell was trembling with fear. He released his grip on me. I gasped for air, then flashed him a brilliant smile. “Maxwell, I do love you.” “So let’s die here together, reunited in the bear’s belly.” Maxwell glanced at me in shock, treating me like I’d truly lost my mind. As the bear drew closer, his eyes darted between me and Vivian, hesitation in his gaze. No matter how fit he was, he could only take one extra person with him to escape. In the end, he grabbed Vivian’s hand and ran for their lives. “I’m sorry, Winona. Once I get outside, I’ll immediately call for help to rescue you.” Between me and Vivian, he made his choice. After Maxwell’s abuse, I didn’t even have the strength to run. I could only watch helplessly as the bear approached. I closed my eyes and silently prayed. Mom, I’m coming to see you. The bear was so close I could smell the stench from its mouth. Just as the bear was about to strike, the crack of a gunshot rang through the air. The bear’s head was pierced by a bullet. Its body crashed to the ground. I stood frozen, not yet understanding what had happened. A middle-aged man dressed like a hunter emerged, holding a rifle. He had only one piece of advice for me: “Girl, next time you choose a man, remember to use your eyes.” I smiled bitterly. I couldn’t agree more with those words. The look in Maxwell’s eyes as he left was burned into my mind. Though it was full of regret and hesitation, his body was more honest than his heart. The people Maxwell called arrived quickly at the scene. Surrounded by bodyguards, he rushed up to me and pulled me into a tight embrace. “Are you hurt anywhere? Winona, I’ll take you to the hospital right now. I’ll find you the best doctors in all of Sea City.” “Don’t worry, I absolutely won’t let anything happen to you.” I stared blankly at the man before me. The concern in his eyes and words seemed genuine. But it only made me feel worse. Because it proved he wasn’t incapable of loving me—there were just things more important to him than his love for me. Like Vivian, for instance. Seeing us embrace, a flash of malice crossed her eyes. Suddenly she cried out and collapsed, claiming she was in shock. Maxwell immediately let go and rushed to support Vivian, whispering comfort in her ear. As for me, he simply waved his hand and had a bodyguard take me to the hospital. When I left the hospital, I took all of my mother’s remaining belongings and had them cremated. Holding the lightweight urn, I returned home with a numb expression, planning to confront Maxwell and end everything. This relationship that had lasted ten years had exhausted me. It was time to end it. But as soon as I opened the door, I saw Vivian acting coy with Maxwell. Maxwell’s eyes were full of laughter as he recorded everything on his phone. Hearing the door open, both of them looked over at once. I froze in place, my mind blank. Maxwell’s brow was furrowed at first, but when he saw the urn in my hands, understanding dawned. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I didn’t expect you to actually be into this kind of thing.” “Considering your performance in the mountains today, I suppose I can play along with this little act of yours. Call it compensation.” “Vivian, hold my phone. Record this scene.” As he spoke, he took off his shirt and strode toward me. Not until his arm wrapped around my waist and his hot breath fell on my ear did I snap out of it. “Let go of me right now. Maxwell, what are you trying to do?” “I didn’t expect you to get into character so quickly. Have you been rehearsing?” As his actions grew more brazen, I slapped him hard in my fury. His eyes instantly turned cold and hard as he stared at me.

“Winona, what exactly are you trying to do? Weren’t you the one who wanted to make a video with me? Now you’re playing hard to get?” “My patience isn’t unlimited. If you want to film, let’s get on with it.” After I understood the meaning behind his words, I was too disgusted to speak. I looked at him like he was a stranger. How had the man I once loved so much become this filthy and ugly? Or perhaps he’d always been this way, and I was only now seeing the truth. “Open your damn eyes and look carefully. This is my mother’s ashes!” “Saying these things in front of a dead person—aren’t you afraid of karma?” He looked uncertain, staring blankly at the urn in my arms. But Vivian rushed over at that moment and whispered in his ear. The doubt in Maxwell’s eyes vanished, replaced by intense disgust toward me. “Before I had your mother placed in those mountains, I had Vivian arrange a team of mercenaries to protect her. How could anything have happened?” “Winona, just to win my affection, you’d even fake your own mother’s death. What disgusting thing wouldn’t you do?” He snatched the urn from me, opened it, and let out a cold laugh. “What normal person’s ashes would be this little? Winona, if you’re going to fake something, at least make it believable.” But the ashes were so sparse because there was so little left of my mother’s body. My heart was full of grievance, but Maxwell gave me no chance to explain. I could only swallow it down. “Since you already bought the props, I might as well put them to use.” “Vivian, help me finish that scene from earlier.” By the time I remembered what scene he meant, the two of them were already performing it right in front of me. Right in front of my mother’s ashes. Maxwell tied me up with rope. I could only watch helplessly as they defiled my mother with their actions. “No, please don’t. I’m begging you.” Tears streamed down endlessly, but they didn’t stir even a hint of mercy in Maxwell. He even spoke mockingly to the urn: “Your daughter’s boyfriend of ten years is with another woman. Can you see this from below?” By the end, I’d gone numb, watching them expressionlessly. When they finished, I picked up the urn without a word and left that disgusting place, not sparing them another glance. They disgusted me to the point of nausea. Worried that Maxwell might find my temporary residence and do something disgusting with my mother’s ashes again, I’d rather carry the urn with me to work. Ever since the scandal from the meeting had spread, my reputation at the company was completely ruined. Wherever I went, I could hear people whispering behind my back. “She acts so proper normally, but she’s so shameless in private.” “Only our Mr. Hunt would want her. Who else would like this kind of slut?” The source of all these rumors was Maxwell’s current woman, Vivian. But this life was finally about to end. Today I was here to resign. However, when I knocked on Maxwell’s office door, I was told Mr. Hunt wasn’t in his office—he was downstairs at the company entrance. I looked down through the floor-to-ceiling window in confusion and saw countless gorgeous, brilliant flowers. In the middle of a heart shape made of bouquets, Maxwell knelt on one knee. Just by reading his lips, I knew what four words he was saying: “I like you.” But the object of his confession wasn’t me. It was Vivian, her face full of bashful delight. Ten years. I’d waited ten years for his confession. Whenever I wanted to make our relationship public, he always found excuses to put me off. I never imagined the reason it would finally be made public would be this absurdly laughable. And the confession I’d waited ten years for was stolen by someone else. Falling in love with Maxwell truly was the biggest mistake of my life. Vivian accepted Maxwell without question. The two embraced excitedly and kissed passionately on the spot. I didn’t spare them another glance. After placing my resignation letter on Maxwell’s desk, I returned to my workstation to pack my things. All my colleagues were discussing the confession that just happened, openly and subtly scorning me. “Those two are so well-matched. Vivian is so much better than that Winona.” “Some ten-year relationship—probably just Mr. Hunt being kind to save her face. I bet she’s the one who’s been pestering him for ten years.” These words flowed through my mind like water, unable to stir even a ripple. But when I returned to my desk, the urn that had been sitting there was gone. My heart sank to the bottom. Ignoring others’ contempt, I frantically asked the surrounding colleagues. After learning Vivian had taken it, my vision went black and I nearly fainted. That woman would definitely do something terrible to my mother’s ashes. My mother’s ashes couldn’t afford any mishap. I headed to the CEO’s office once more. When I arrived, I saw Vivian had poured all the ashes into a flowerpot with several vibrant roses planted in it.

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Mom loved to distill her parenting philosophy into rules. My older sister, Aria, was raised as a little princess. Mom always called her “baby,” and she grew up spoiled. When I was born, Mom assigned me a different label: the last four digits of my Social Security Number, 2328. She believed that a name stripped of emotional attachment would forge an independent personality. For twenty years, to her, I was 2328. Then, on Christmas Day, I brought my boyfriend home. When he called me “baby” over dinner, my mother slammed her cup onto the floor. “How dare you call her that? Her name is 2328!” “I ruined Aria by calling her ‘baby.’ I won’t let you ruin Serena, too!” “Baby, let me peel a shrimp for you.” Before Kyle could finish, Mom’s cup hit the floor with a crack. “What did you just call her?” Kyle froze. He looked from me to my mom, utterly confused. “‘Baby’…What’s wrong?” “Baby?” Mom’s voice shot up an octave. “Her name is 2328!” I watched Kyle’s expression morph from confusion to pure bewilderment. Under the table, I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. With a sigh, I turned to Mom and said softly. “Mom, let’s just eat. It’s only a nickname.” “It’s not only a nickname.” She straightened up, settling into her lecturing posture. My hands clenched. Here we go again. “I called her sister ‘baby’ from the day she was born. I spoiled her. She turned out rotten. I learned from my mistake. When Serena was born, I did it right. I’ve called her by the last four digits of her Social Security Number ever since.” Mom’s eyes locked onto Kyle. “So please, call Serena by 2328.” The living room fell into dead silence. Kyle swallowed awkwardly. Aria emerged from the bedroom, her pocket still stuffed with the money Mom had secretly slipped her when she thought I wasn’t watching. “Mom, you’re scaring him.” She drifted over to Kyle, her tone light and explanatory. “Don’t take it personally. My mom is just…very dedicated to her parenting theories.” “Look at me. She called me ‘baby’ my whole life, and look how I turned out. Still trying to kick all the bad habits she baked into me.” “So with 2328 here, Mom doesn’t allow names. No nicknames. Just the last four digits. It’s her foolproof method.” “She says it prevents dependency and builds character.” Aria let out a laugh that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m basically her living cautionary tale.” Her mock-pitiful tone made me dig my nails into my palm. Mom seized the moment to drag me into the bedroom. “What’s wrong with you?” She looked at me with scrutiny. “I worked so hard to raise you as an independent woman, and you turn around and become some man’s pampered wife?” “He just called me ‘baby’ once.” I kept my voice as calm as possible. “Mom, you can’t expect everyone around me to call me 2328, can you? It makes me uncomfortable…” “What’s uncomfortable about it?” Her eyes were cold as ice. “I sacrificed your sister as my parenting experiment. All the failed lessons I learned from her, I corrected with you. You got the better deal!” “Better deal?” I looked up at her. “So calling me by a number, forcing me into emotional isolation, making me feel unloved-that’s for my own good?” Mom’s eyes widened. Her lips pressed into a thin line. “I’ve raised two children. Don’t I know better than you?” “Only by making you emotionally independent of others can you become strong and self-reliant.” I watched her stubborn expression, suddenly feeling deflated. Before bringing my boyfriend home, I’d joked that my family had some “special rules.” He’d laughed and ruffled my hair. “How special could it be? They’re not going to ban me from eating, right?” I’d thought Mom would set aside those ridiculous rules for my boyfriend’s first visit. I bit my lip and looked straight into Mom’s eyes. “Mom, are these rules of yours really for my own good?”

Memories poured out like a broken faucet, unstoppable. On my first day of preschool at age three, I asked Mom in confusion. “Mommy, the teacher says my name is Serena. Why do you always call Aria ‘baby’ but call me 2328?” Mom looked at me, enunciating each word. “To me, you’re 2328. Don’t get all sentimental about it.” I didn’t understand. I just nodded blankly. When I was five, Aria beat up a neighborhood kid for taking her toy. Mom paid two thousand dollars in medical bills, then immediately set a new rule for me. “2328, from now on, if someone hits you, don’t hit back. Just come tell me.” I remembered. After a bully pushed me off the slide and I scraped my knee badly, I held back tears and went home. Mom disinfected my wound while asking. “Why did he push you? Did you provoke him?” I opened my mouth, but seeing Mom’s interrogating look, I didn’t dare speak. Turns out Mom didn’t tell me not to fight back so she could defend me-she just didn’t want me causing her trouble. At thirteen, Aria became obsessed with fashion. Mom bought her dress after dress, accessory after accessory. Aria grew increasingly materialistic, narcissistic like a proud princess. Seeing this, Mom immediately cut up all the clothes in my closet, leaving only two T-shirts and pairs of pants. “Look at Aria, all she cares about is appearance. You need to focus entirely on studying.” The result? I was mocked and isolated for three years for my shabby, outdated clothes. When Aria reached senior year, Mom hired her a private tutor at three hundred dollars an hour. She forced Aria into college. The day the acceptance letter arrived, Mom said to me. “See? Aria relied too much on tutoring. She lost her ability to study independently-that’s why she didn’t get into a top 10 university.” She dragged me home from school and locked me in my room, forcing me to “study independently.” I ended up only getting into community college. “Community college is great-practical. Your sister’s school costs thirty to forty thousand a year. You’re better off learning a trade.” During Aria’s four years of college, she posted daily on social media about dinners, trips, and the living expenses Mom sent her. Mom liked every post while messaging me. “Aria is wasting her time. Mom applied for student loans for you. You’ll pay them back yourself-that way you’ll value your education.” So during school, I worked three jobs. I graduated with thirty-six thousand dollars in debt. Meanwhile, Mom paid all of Aria’s tuition and living expenses. All I got was: “2328, you’re so much more independent than your sister. You never make Mom worry.” For over twenty years, Mom used Aria as her educational “experiment.” She pampered and protected Aria, doing everything to elevate Aria’s life. Yet she constantly told others she’d “ruined” Aria. And me? I was the “lucky one” who benefited from her timely course correction. Aria’s bright confidence became “vanity.” Aria’s carefree attitude became “irresponsibility.” Aria’s sense of security became “spoiled willfulness.” Meanwhile, my timidity, insecurity, and frugality got repackaged as maturity and self-reliance. “Mom learned from all her mistakes with Aria and corrected everything with you.” “Look how well you turned out. You never make Mom worry.” My life was severely pruned and trimmed. But unlike Aria, I never received love’s nourishment. “How is this not for your own good?” Mom shot back, looking at me like I was ungrateful. “Mom, I don’t want to be called 2328. I want someone to call me ‘baby’ too. Buy me a dress. Stand up for me once. I want to be cherished just once…” Mom’s expression froze. “I practiced so much on your sister and gave you all the right methods. Now you got the better deal and you’re complaining?” Her lips trembled, her eyes filled with warning and anger. Aria entered the bedroom, glancing at us. “2328, your boyfriend is so rude. He just up and left.”

By the time I reached the living room, it was empty. Kyle had gone. Only a text message remained. “Serena, I’m heading home. Please don’t fight with your mom on my account. Your family rules are…unique. I need some time to think..” I stared at those words, my thumb hovering over the reply box. I typed a single word. “Okay.” What else could I say? Explain why my mother made such rules for me? Explain why those rules only applied to me? Being unloved was obvious. I turned to go back. Uncle Robert’s laughter reached me first. In the living room, Mom and Aria were already seated at the dining table. “Rachel, don’t worry. I’ve got Aria’s transfer covered.” Robert patted his chest. “The HR director at her company is my high school buddy. Moving her to an easier position is just a phone call away.” Mom beamed. “That’s wonderful. You know Aria’s lazy. Her current position is too demanding, and she has to work night shifts.” After graduating, Mom pulled strings everywhere to get Aria into the city’s largest state-owned enterprise. After just a few years, Aria constantly complained about the work being too hard. But from what I knew, the so-called night shift only came once a month. And it was just from 6 PM to 11 PM. Five hours of work, and Aria complained endlessly. She insisted Mom find connections to transfer her to a cushy position with good pay and little work. Robert set down his wine glass and suddenly turned to me. “By the way, Ser-” He nearly blurted it out, then glanced at Mom and quickly corrected himself. “2328, what company are you working for now?” My throat tightened. “A small private company. I do operations.” “A small company?” Robert’s voice rose. “Why not have your mom pull some strings too? Get into a big company-easier work, better benefits. Look at Aria, how comfortable she is.” Mom held her rice bowl, watching me with satisfaction. She opened her mouth with that familiar backhanded compliment. “Oh, 2328 doesn’t need anyone to worry about her. She’s the hardworking type, unlike her lazy sister.” “She works so hard, staying at the office until 10 PM every night. That’s a good place to develop character.” My hand gripped the fork tightly. Back when I had trouble finding work due to my education, I’d struggled to land this job. I worked desperately at the company not because I loved hardship-it was because I had no connections, no backing. The only way was to sell my time and labor in the most basic way to earn a little more. When I got sick with a fever after a week of overtime, Mom just made a brief phone call. “2328, you’re an adult now. Buy your own medicine when you’re sick. Young people need to work harder to get noticed by the boss.” But when Aria got varicose veins from sitting at her desk, Mom went to massage her legs daily, applying expensive ointments. Now she was even asking Robert to transfer Aria to an easier position. I laughed bitterly inside, feeling suffocated. “No need. My current job is fine.” My voice was dry. Back in the bedroom, I closed the door. I pulled out my phone and opened my manager’s chat. “Manager, I’ll take the three-year transfer to the branch office.” The branch was in Alaska. It was newly established and needed people to develop business. But Alaska was three thousand miles from home. And it was a three-year commitment. No one wanted this difficult assignment. I’d initially refused too. I didn’t want to leave home. I wanted to stay close to Mom to take care of her more easily. I also didn’t want to be separated from Kyle. But now, there seemed no need. Message sent. I wiped my face. After a long while, someone knocked on the door.

“2328, come out and sweep the living room. Don’t hole up in your room on Christmas.” I gripped the broom, looking at Aria scrolling on her phone on the couch. “Just me?” I asked. “Aria can’t do anything right. You expect her to help?” Mom walked over and patted my shoulder. “You do a bit more, and people will praise you for being diligent and sensible. Mom’s building your reputation.” Same as always. Seemingly criticizing Aria, but completely exempting her from work. I felt numb inside, mechanically starting to sweep. “Oh, I need to tell you something.” Mom’s expression was deliberately casual. “The demolition notice came through for our old house.” I stopped moving. Aria looked up from her phone. “They’re compensating us with two commercial apartments on Oceanview Road.” “Mom thought about it. One will be transferred to my name, one to Aria’s name.” The air suddenly went quiet. Only the exaggerated music from the TV remained. “I don’t get one?” I heard my voice ring out awkwardly in the living room. “It’s close to your sister’s company but far from yours. Even if I gave it to you, it wouldn’t be convenient.” Mom spoke quickly, as if afraid I’d ask more questions. “Besides, after I’m gone, the one in my name will go to you two sisters anyway.” My hands trembled uncontrollably as I gripped the broom. For the first time, I abandoned decorum and asked directly. “Then why not transfer the one in your name to me?” Mom clearly hadn’t expected me to ask such a “shameless” question. She paused, then grew angry. “Your sister is careless. If you don’t take care of me either, don’t I need to keep something for security?” I lowered my eyes and laughed softly. “Didn’t you always say you raised me to be sensible and obedient? Are you afraid I won’t take care of you in old age?” Mom froze, her shoulders tensing. “You have a boyfriend now. Who knows if you’ll be led astray?” Her voice climbed to a shrill pitch. Aria watched from the sidelines, a spectator to the scene. “If I give you the house, what’s to stop you from turning around and handing it to some random men?” “Besides, it’s thanks to your sister’s example that I knew how to raise you properly. You owe your upbringing to her. Compensating her now is only fair. What’s your problem with that?” In that moment, my blood turned to ice. No matter how unjust her favoritism was, she could always wrap it in the language of fairness. In her mind, twisted logic simply became justified reasoning. I threw the broom to the floor, my words sharp and deliberate. “Well, you can stop worrying. After today, Kyle said he can’t handle us. We’re done.” “That man was never good enough for you anyway.” Mom turned away, already moving on. “Disrespecting our family rules on his first visit? He has no breeding.” “What rules? Rules to keep me in line?” My voice cut through the air, sharper and louder than I’d intended. Aria finally stood up from the couch, awkwardly trying to smooth things over. “2328, Mom is just being protective. She’s cautious for you.” “Look at your attitude!” Mom pointed at me. “After all I did to raise you, you talk to me like this? Over one apartment?” I looked at them both, feeling completely like an outsider. Right. Just one apartment. Like when I was little, it was just a nickname. Just one piece of clothing. Just tuition money. Growing up, it was just a job. Just an apartment. Just never being the favorite. A bitter laugh escaped me, leaving me chilled to the bone. I went to my room and started packing my few belongings. My mother watched, a mocking smile playing on her lips. “Where exactly will you go? All the hotels are closed.” I dragged my suitcase to the door, my voice flat and final. “Wherever it is, it won’t be back here. Not ever.”

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On Christmas Eve, my parents half-jokingly announced: “Whoever gets home first between you and your brother gets the house.” I rushed into the elevator first and headed up to the 20th floor. But when the elevator doors opened again, the home I’d been longing for wasn’t there. Instead, I was somehow back on the first floor! The door stood wide open, just as it had been when I first arrived. Confused, I pressed 20 again. The sensation of ascending was clear, and the floor numbers climbed steadily from But when the doors opened, I was back on the first floor again! Cold sweat broke out all over my body. I switched to the stairs instead, counting each floor as I climbed all twenty levels. But when I pushed through the fire door at the top, I was somehow on the first floor once more! That night, no matter what I tried, I could never reach the 20th floor. Meanwhile, my brother had already posted a video in the family group chat showing him celebrating with Mom and Dad. Eventually, exhausted and dizzy, I tumbled down the stairs and died. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on Christmas Eve. 1 I was back downstairs again. This time, instead of rushing home, I pulled out my phone and video-called my parents. They answered quickly, and Mom’s voice came through with a laugh: “Olivia, your dad and I have the property deed ready and everything! We’re just waiting to see who gets home first—you or your brother!” “Your brother’s still over an hour away. Where are you?” In my previous life, I’d also arrived downstairs before my brother, but I never even made it past the threshold. I gripped my phone tightly and spoke quickly: “Mom, I’m downstairs right now.” “But for some reason I can’t get up there. Can you and Dad come down and meet me?” The moment I finished speaking, Mom’s video feed suddenly froze, then disconnected. I tried calling her back, but couldn’t get through. Yesterday Mom had complained to me about the poor signal in their new place, but I hadn’t expected it to be this bad. I sighed and dragged my suitcase toward the elevator myself. But this time I was more cautious. I didn’t go straight home. Instead, I pressed the button for the 19th floor. In my previous life, no matter what I did, I always ended up back on the first floor when the doors opened. So right after being reborn, I’d strongly suspected that maybe the building’s renovation was unusual, making every floor look identical to the first. The elevator started moving smoothly and soon came to a gentle stop. Ding! The moment the doors opened, my eyes went wide! “Impossible… how can this be?” Instead of the empty first-floor lobby, I saw rows of apartment doors! They even had unit numbers on them. 1901, 1902… I walked to the stairwell and looked down through the window. It was high up—about fifty or sixty meters above ground. This really was the nineteenth floor! “So my theory was wrong…” “But if it’s not that, why can I never reach the 20th floor?” Cold sweat covered my body. I returned to the elevator and pressed 20. The sensation of ascending came again. The elevator was definitely going up. I stared unblinkingly at the constantly changing floor numbers, terrified that if I looked away for even a second, I’d end up back on the first floor. But fortunately, that didn’t happen. The number jumped from 19 to 20. Ding! We’d arrived. My heart leapt into my throat. But the next second, everything went black! When the elevator doors opened, I was back on the first floor again! Empty, silent, with no residents—completely different from the 19th floor’s layout and decoration. “What’s going on…” 2 I couldn’t believe it. I closed my eyes tight. When I opened them again, the scene before me hadn’t changed. This really was the first-floor lobby! Cold wind kept blowing in against my face. Exactly the same as what I’d seen when I first arrived! I reached out and pressed every button from 1 to 20 on the elevator panel. All the lights came on. The buttons were fine, and the elevator wasn’t malfunctioning. But it had clearly displayed the 20th floor just now. How did I end up back on the first floor in the blink of an eye? I refused to accept this. I walked outside and looked around the area. Outside was the road leading to the street, with exercise equipment nearby. This was definitely what the outside of the first floor looked like. My heart sank bit by bit. Could I have encountered something supernatural? Would I automatically return to the first floor whenever I tried to go to the 20th? Suddenly my phone rang. It was my brother calling. His tone was concerned: “Olivia, Mom and Dad said you’re already downstairs. Why haven’t you come up?” “They couldn’t reach you on your phone and got worried, so they asked me to check on you.” My best friend, who’d been dating my brother for five years, also spoke up with a laugh: “Olivia, you don’t need to hold back for us.” “Even though your brother and I are getting married soon, we can afford our own place.” “If you should get the house, take it. Don’t worry about us.” I smiled bitterly. Actually, I really hadn’t been planning to hold back for them. After all, Mom and Dad had given them plenty of support over the years. But now I couldn’t even reach the 20th floor. How was I supposed to claim anything? I told her about the strange phenomena in the elevator. My friend on the other end burst out laughing: “Olivia, I remember you’ve been working for a week straight.” “Are you maybe too exhausted and a bit mentally foggy?” “We’ll be home in half an hour. Wait for us and we’ll go up together.” After the call ended, I looked at the street somewhat dejectedly. On Christmas Eve, there were very few cars on the road—just a few delivery drivers still making their rounds. Suddenly my eyes lit up. I knew what to do! I pulled out my phone and ordered food for delivery, entering my parents’ address directly. Soon the delivery guy arrived downstairs. I stopped him with a smile: “Hi, are you delivering to unit 2001?” “I ordered the food, but I’m not familiar with this place and can’t find exactly where it is. Could you please help me get there?” Even if I really was having hallucinations from working too many hours straight, the delivery guy wouldn’t be hallucinating too, right? If I went up with him, wouldn’t I find out what was really going on? “No problem!” The guy nodded readily and led me into the elevator. When the number stopped at 20, the elevator doors slowly opened. The delivery guy looked at me helpfully: “Miss, does this look like your place?” “If not, I can help you look around other areas.” Thump thump thump! My heart started pounding. I immediately recognized the security door of our new home directly across from the elevator. Mom and Dad had shown it to me over video calls before. I couldn’t be mistaken. I’d actually made it to the twentieth floor! Seeing how excited I looked, the delivery guy smiled happily too. He handed me the food, helped me with my suitcase, then took the elevator back down. Looking at the door so close at hand, I was incredibly excited. But just as I turned to knock on the door, my pupils suddenly contracted! I was back on the first floor again! 3 I’d clearly just turned around to take something from the delivery guy. How did the security door right before my eyes suddenly disappear? Not only that, but all the miscellaneous items piled in the hallway had vanished in an instant too. This place had changed back to look like the first-floor lobby! “How can this be…” My head buzzed. I rushed over to examine it carefully. Where the door had been was now completely empty—just a wall painted snow white. I knocked on it hard. The wall made a muffled thud. From the sound, I could tell this was a solid wall. A chill shot up my spine. How was this possible? I panicked instantly, but still refused to give up. I knocked on different spots across the wall surface. All of it was solid. By the time I’d knocked until my hand hurt, I still hadn’t found anything unusual. I sat down against the wall, feeling utterly absurd. This had just been the twentieth floor a moment ago. I’d been one step away from getting home. How did everything change in the blink of an eye? “Impossible… this just can’t be done…” I stood up and rushed into the stairwell. “The stairs can still prove it! If this is the 20th floor, then the stairs should go down.” “I’ll know by checking the stairs!” In my previous life, I’d climbed up from the first floor. I remembered clearly that there was no basement here—the first floor absolutely had no stairs going down. But the next second, I froze in place. There were no stairs going down. Only stairs winding upward. This really was the first floor. “How can this be…” I’d clearly just been on the 20th floor—I’d even seen the door to our home. How did everything disappear in the blink of an eye? “Mom! Dad! Where are you!” “Come out!” “Why has everything here disappeared? Why can’t I get home?” I shouted in desperation. Only the hollow echo of my voice in the corridor answered me. Bang! Suddenly a door upstairs opened, and an elderly woman with white hair came down impatiently, glaring at me. “Are you trying to die? What are you wailing about here?” “If you can’t get home, then leave. You’re giving everyone bad luck.” “Whose kid are you? Which unit do you live in? How can you have such poor manners?” The woman stared at me angrily, but I had no mind to deal with her. Instead, I stared blankly at the smooth first-floor ground beneath her feet. It had been worn shiny from long-term use—it absolutely couldn’t have been temporarily installed. In other words, I really had gone from the 20th floor back to the first floor in an instant. Could it really be like my friend said—that I was mentally foggy from being too tired? But I was still holding the food the delivery guy had just given me. The address on it was still 2001. This proved I’d definitely reached the 20th floor! “Ma’am, I’m from unit 2001, but I just had a fight with my parents and got kicked out.” “Could you please be kind enough to take me back home and help me make peace with them?” I steadied my thoughts and looked at the woman pleadingly. Seeing the suitcase by my feet, the woman seemed to believe my story. Her expression softened a bit. “You’re the daughter from 2001? Your mom and I get along pretty well.” “Don’t worry, I’ll help smooth things over for you in a bit.” She took my hand and dragged my suitcase as we entered the elevator together. Watching the elevator numbers slowly climb from 1 again. Ding! The elevator doors opened. 4 Looking up, we were back on the 20th floor. The familiar security door of our home came into view! I gripped the woman’s hand tightly, not daring to let go for even a second, afraid that if I did, everything would disappear again. “Ma’am, please come knock on the door with me. I’m afraid to go home alone in case they scold me.” The woman patted the back of my hand understandingly. She pulled me to the door. The woman knocked on the security door, and soon Mom’s voice came from inside: “Coming!” The door opened. Mom looked at me with surprise and delight. “Olivia, you’re home!” “Your brother just said you were waiting for him downstairs. It’s so cold down there!” “Mom tried calling to tell you to come up first, but somehow couldn’t get through.” Dad poked his head out from the kitchen, white flour dusting his hair. “Olivia’s home? Come on in.” “You haven’t eaten yet, have you? Dad made your favorite dessert.” Seeing Mom and Dad with my own eyes, hearing their voices with my own ears, all the strangeness from the evening instantly evaporated. I threw myself into Mom’s arms, choking up. She laughed and patted my back: “Come inside.” I nodded, let go of Mom, and grabbed my suitcase, about to enter the house. BOOM! A thunderclap exploded in my mind. I suddenly realized something. I quickly turned around to look. Mom and the neighbor woman, who’d just been standing behind me chatting and laughing, had disappeared. I turned back to look at the door—it had vanished too! Just like last time, only that wall remained! I was back in the cold, windy first-floor lobby. My head was buzzing. “What on earth is going on…” “Could this really be my hallucination?” Gurgle gurgle. My stomach growled. Having just smelled the aroma of food from inside the house, I was suddenly hungry. If this really was a hallucination from being too tired, how could I explain that aroma? I took a deep breath. My phone rang. Mom’s anxious voice came through: “Olivia, where did you go?” “I just walked someone to the elevator, and when I turned around you were gone!” “You even took your luggage with you. Where are you going?” I didn’t know how to explain. My voice was bitter as I spoke: “Mom, I’m downstairs.” “I probably can’t get home today.” There was a pause on the other end, then her voice became even more anxious. “Silly child, what are you talking about? How can you not get home?” “Just sit tight downstairs. Mom’s coming down to get you right now.” Just as the call was about to end, a burst of noise came from the other side. Then came my brother’s cheerful laughter and my friend’s sweet greeting. I sniffled. So in this life too, they got home first. My brother took the phone from Mom, his tone concerned. “Olivia, when Luna and I got back, we specifically looked around downstairs but didn’t find you.” “We thought you’d already come home, so we came up.” “Where are you now? Luna and I will come get you.” Hearing their concern, I felt no warmth at all. In a flash of insight, a thought suddenly appeared in my mind. So that’s it! I laughed coldly. “Stop pretending. Everyone come out.” “I know why I can never reach the 20th floor!”

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