Category: English

My childhood sweetheart, Adrian, sees the world in grayscale. To him, everything is devoid of color, including me. But that never affected our relationship. After high school graduation, he confessed his love, promising we’d be together forever. After college graduation, he proposed, and we vowed never to betray each other. But before we could even pick out a wedding dress… That day, outside the bridal shop, a girl stumbled and fell into his arms in a panic. Adrian didn’t move. He let her hold him tight. The next moment, two lines of text floated before my eyes like a livestream comment. [As the only splash of color in the male lead’s world, he is destined to fall in love with the heroine.] [Therefore, the supporting female character should gracefully exit.] I looked at Adrian in disbelief. But he just kept his head down, staring at the girl in his arms with an excitement and joy I had never seen before. In that moment, my heart plummeted into an icy abyss. 1 On the day we were supposed to try on wedding dresses, Adrian had an urgent meeting. He said he’d be thirty minutes late. I timed it perfectly, waiting outside the shop exactly when he was due to arrive. He was punctual. If he said thirty minutes, he wouldn’t make me wait a minute longer. As I stepped out of the bridal shop, his familiar car pulled up. Adrian got out, holding a massive bouquet of red roses. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” He hugged me, kissing the corner of my lips, his eyes gentle. He was usually calm and rational. But on a special day like today, he couldn’t hide his smile. I smiled back, taking the roses. “I know you’re busy. Company business comes first. I wouldn’t dare get mad.” It was just banter. We both graduated this year and joined our respective family businesses. There was a lot to learn, and important meetings couldn’t be missed. Otherwise, hungry siblings would be waiting to snatch the inheritance. After our brief exchange, we walked into the bridal shop side by side. Even though we had started custom-ordering dresses two years ago, we wanted the perfect wedding, so we decided to order a few more and pick the best one. We didn’t want to regret our once-in-a-lifetime wedding. Before we even entered the shop, a noise erupted nearby. A girl, looking terrified, tripped and fell straight toward Adrian. Adrian wasn’t a germaphobe, but he disliked being touched by strangers. I expected him to push her away instinctively, like he always did. I even worried he might use too much force, so I reached out to help steady her. But to my shock, Adrian stood still. The girl fell into his arms, gripping his lapels tightly, trembling in fear. His pristine suit instantly gained several visible wrinkles. Usually, Adrian wouldn’t tolerate this for a second. A strange feeling crept into my heart, but I didn’t say anything. It was just an accident, after all. Just as I was about to speak, two lines of text floated before my eyes. [As the only splash of color in the male lead’s world, he is destined to fall in love with the heroine.] [Therefore, the supporting female character should gracefully exit.] I went through a rebellious phase as a teenager and read my fair share of novels. I understood the concepts of male leads, female leads, supporting characters, and even this random “bullet screen” commentary. That’s why my heart raced with panic. I stared at the text, then turned to look at Adrian in disbelief. As my childhood sweetheart, no one knew him better than I did. He had been mature since he was a child, rarely smiling, and never showing emotion for irrelevant people. But right now… He seemed to have forgotten I was standing right there. He held the girl tightly, his eyes filled with joy and excitement. This time, I truly felt like I had fallen into an ice cave. 2 The text wasn’t lying. Adrian’s world was gray. He had been more mature than his peers since childhood because of it. But sometimes, in moments of melancholy, he would lean on my shoulder and ask sadly, “Chloe, what does color look like?” I couldn’t answer him. It was like telling a blind person the world is brilliant, or a deaf person that music is beautiful. They couldn’t experience it. Words were useless. In fact, it felt cruel. Adrian and I had known each other since we were babies. Besides his family, only I knew he couldn’t see color. When we were little, I would tirelessly tell him: The tulips in the garden are yellow. The sky is blue. The goldfish we accidentally overfed was red. My dress is green. He would always look thoughtful, staring hard, trying to see something, but eventually resorting to logic. Back then, he couldn’t control his emotions well. He often hid and cried. He thought no one saw, pretending to be a grown-up afterwards, saying he didn’t care. But I knew. His eyes were red. He was sad. So I loved him even more. Among all our playmates, I only wanted to play with him. To be his best friend. As we grew up and went to school together, he became cold and distant to others to hide his secret. Of course, the coldness was for outsiders. I wasn’t an outsider. Adrian said I was the most important person in his heart. Teenage promises are always so sweet. Knowing each other since childhood, being together day and night, and him being so wonderful—how could I not fall for him? Luckily, the feeling was mutual. After high school graduation, he held a bouquet of my favorite roses and confessed his love in front of both our parents, saying he wanted to be with me forever. My dad turned red, rolling up his sleeves and grabbing a stick, threatening to beat Adrian. My mom blocked him, laughing because she adored Adrian and had always hoped we’d end up together. Adrian’s parents kept promising they would treat me well. His dad even called me “daughter-in-law” on the spot, making my dad fume. Through the chaos, Adrian held my hand and hugged me tight. And so, we became a couple. We went to the same university and spent four happy, stable years together. On graduation day, he enlisted our mutual friends to create a romantic proposal. He put the ring on my finger, and we promised never to fail each other. Everything went smoothly. Fate seemed to favor me. I never suffered. I always thought I was lucky. But now… My thoughts receded like the tide. I looked at the two people still embracing, a bitter taste in my mouth. I thought I should trust Adrian. He had never seen color. He was just overwhelmed with excitement. The text might not be true. I convinced myself. After so many years, he wouldn’t change his heart just like that. Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward, ready to speak. But a commotion erupted nearby. A group of men and women rushed over. The girl in Adrian’s arms turned pale, shrinking behind him, her voice trembling with plea. “Please, don’t let them take me away.” Adrian wasn’t one to meddle, but in this moment, he didn’t hesitate. He shielded her, glaring coldly at the group. “Stay out of this! She’s my daughter, and I’m taking her home!” The leader, a fierce-looking man, roared at the girl behind Adrian. “Lily, get your ass over here! You quit college and ran away with stolen money? I’ll beat you to death!” A blonde boy next to him chimed in. “Yeah, Sis. Why does a girl need so much education anyway? Just get married and bring in some dowry money. I need to find a wife.” They echoed each other. A middle-aged woman, likely the mother, wiped her tears. “Lily, listen to your dad. Let’s go home.” Lily, face wet with tears, stubbornly refused to move. She shook her head, gripping Adrian’s jacket. “I won’t go back! I worked hard to get into college! I want my own life! I won’t let you control me!” Lily’s rebuttal enraged the father. Adrian had probably never met such unreasonable people. Just as he was about to speak, the man threw a punch. Adrian’s eyes widened, and he instinctively turned to shield Lily. The blonde boy rushed forward to grab her. Lily cried. The mother cried. In the chaos, someone shoved Lily, and she slammed into me. My arm throbbed with pain. I barely kept my balance. The blonde boy, swinging a metal rod recklessly, aimed it right at us. I could have dodged, but Lily was clinging to my arm, anchoring me in place. I watched helplessly as the rod came down. “Watch out!” Adrian saw it. He lunged toward us. I thought he was coming to save me. Until he reached out and pulled Lily away from my side. That was the moment I truly fell into the ice cave. The next second— The metal rod struck my forehead. Intense pain. Darkness. 3 When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. The smell of disinfectant was overwhelming. I struggled to sit up just as Adrian rushed in. He hurried to my side, reaching out to help me. “Chloe, the doctor said you have a mild concussion. You need to rest…” He froze mid-sentence when I slapped his hand away. I was a girl who had just graduated. When danger came, my boyfriend protected another woman. Of course I was angry. My head still throbbed. I would make that blonde kid pay. If my parents weren’t vacationing abroad, they would have turned the city upside down by now. Adrian probably hadn’t dared to tell them. As expected, he sat slowly on the edge of the bed. He began to apologize. “Chloe, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have failed to protect you immediately. But the situation was unique. That girl… she was in color. Chloe, do you understand? It was the first time I saw color. I was overwhelmed. I didn’t react properly. I actually wanted to grab you, but I don’t know why… I grabbed the color instead.” Adrian’s voice grew quieter, filled with immense guilt as he looked at me anxiously. “Chloe, I promise, this will absolutely never happen again.” He sounded sincere. Tears welled in his eyes. Men don’t cry easily. Especially Adrian, who had been mature since childhood. Except for when he was little and cried about not seeing color, he had always been strong. He reached out tentatively, touching my face. “Chloe, we’re going to be husband and wife for a lifetime. I love you, and only you.” I looked at Adrian. This man who had occupied my entire life. I loved him to my core. I wanted to be with him forever. If… I hadn’t seen that text. Just as I thought this, new lines floated before my eyes: [The male lead is so devoted. Truly my favorite cold, abstinent hero.] [I don’t know why the supporting female is mad. They’re the official couple. Of course he protects the heroine in a crisis.] [Don’t be fooled by his crying. According to the plot, the heroine is about to call him.] [Destined lovers vs. childhood friends. Even if the book isn’t finished, I know who he’ll choose.] I scanned the text without expression, then moved my gaze back to Adrian. We were childhood sweethearts, together for four years. I found it hard to believe he would abandon me in the hospital for a girl he just met. At least, until it happened, I wouldn’t believe it. “Adrian.” I called his name softly. He looked up quickly, eyes full of nervousness. “What is it, Chloe? Does it hurt? I’ll get the doctor…” “I’m fine. Just hungry.” I grabbed his hand and pointed to my stomach. “I want food. Will you go buy me something?” I’ve had a weak stomach since I was a kid. I was thin and picky. I couldn’t go hungry, or it would hurt. Hearing this, Adrian looked serious. “Okay, I’ll go buy it right now…” Before he could finish, his phone rang. I knew him too well. I knew every habit, every look in his eyes. He looked down at the screen, his eyes flickering with unnatural hesitation. The phone kept ringing. He stood there frozen, seemingly conflicted. I stayed silent. Thanks to the text, I knew who was calling. I just wanted to see what Adrian would choose. He frowned, as if making a decision, then pointed at his phone. Calmly, he said, “It’s my assistant. Probably work. I’ll take this, then go get your food.” I nodded. I watched him take the phone into the bathroom. Less than thirty seconds later, he rushed out. Anxiety was written all over his face. He grabbed his jacket from the sofa, putting it on as he walked out. “Chloe, something came up at the company. I have to go back immediately. I’ll have someone send food. Stay in bed and be good. Once I’m done, I’ll come back to keep you company.” With that, he was at the door, his voice fading away. Silence returned. I sat on the hospital bed, watching the boy who once belonged to me walk away. In the air, a few sparse lines of text appeared. [Actually, I think the supporting female is great too. The male lead seems too cruel doing this.] [But we all know how much he wanted to see color. The supporting female knows too, right?] Yes, because I knew, the cold pierced my bones. The Adrian who said he would be with me forever, who promised never to fail me. Indeed abandoned me without a second thought for the color he craved so desperately. I looked down, tears falling onto the quilt. No one likes to be abandoned. If he truly betrayed his vow, then I would choose to discard him first. 4 I sat in the hospital bed for a long time. The text flickered in and out, narrating the interaction between Adrian and Lily. [The male lead couldn’t let the heroine go. Knowing her trash dad was bullying her again, he rushed to support her.] [The heroine is so pitiful, stuck with a family of vampires.] [Luckily she met the male lead. Only happiness from now on. No one can bully her anymore.] Reading about Lily’s family, I hadn’t forgotten why I was in the hospital. So I made two calls. First, to our housekeeper, Auntie Zhang, asking for food. Second, to my father’s assistant, Mr. Liu. I suffered a calamity. The person who hit me should pay the price. The moment I hung up, the text exploded. [What is the supporting female doing? Using her family’s power to go after the heroine’s brother?] [Comment above, be reasonable. She was put in the hospital. Calling the police is standard procedure. Why the fuss?] [Heh, is it standard procedure or female jealousy trying to cause trouble for the heroine?] [So what if she calls the police? Now that the leads have met, this move will only push the male lead further away.] [Wanna bet?] […] The lines flashed by quickly. I looked away. If Adrian tried to stop me from pressing charges because of Lily, then I would not only be disappointed, I would think he had brain damage. I liked him, yes. But if he was truly as the text described, even the strongest love would be exhausted.

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The year I got an interview with a Fortune 500 tech giant, a new requirement was suddenly added: a perfect score on the English proficiency exam. I scored 699 out of 700. I was rejected. A year later, my adopted sister, Sophie, got the job. At her celebration dinner, Uncle Bob slapped my dad on the back and laughed. “Still the doting father, aren’t you, Walter? You knew Sophie didn’t have the scores, so you just scrapped the requirement entirely.” I forced a smile. “No way, Uncle Bob. When I got a 699 last year, Dad didn’t pull any strings. Sophie got in on her own merit.” “Impossible,” Bob slurred, drunk on expensive wine. “Last year, your dad was the one who demanded the requirement be added in the first place.” I stared at my father in shock. He coughed awkwardly. “We’re father and daughter. I had to avoid the appearance of nepotism. Sophie is adopted; if she didn’t get in, people would say we treat her like an outsider. Besides, she worked hard. She deserves a good result.” My smile turned bitter. Fine. If you want to avoid nepotism, Dad… Then when I audit your taxes at the end of the year, I won’t show any mercy either. 1 The dinner table fell silent. Uncle Bob, realizing he’d said too much, tried to backtrack. “I’m just drunk, honey. Don’t take it to heart.” I pushed his hand away and stared at my father at the head of the table. “So, the new rule last year… you really added it.” Dad stayed silent. Mom tugged on my sleeve. “Don’t fight with your father.” I shook her off. “Why?! I got a 699! You set the bar at 700 just to keep me out? Do you hate me that much?” “I told you, I had to avoid nepotism! You’re my biological daughter! If you got in, what would people think?” I looked at him in disbelief. “Dad, avoiding nepotism means not using your power to give family an unfair advantage! If I wasn’t good enough, fine. But I was top of the class in the written exam and the interview! What was there to avoid?” “But Sophie didn’t even break 600, and you just deleted the rule for her? Who’s the one benefiting from nepotism here?!” Smash! A glass shattered against my forehead. Dad stood up, furious. “You think you’re so smart now, don’t you?” Guests rushed to hold us back. Sophie’s eyes were red. “Sis, don’t make Dad angry! Apologize!” “Look at Sophie, then look at yourself!” Dad roared. “She worked hard for three months! Why shouldn’t she get a break? Everyone knows she’s the daughter of my old war buddy. If I don’t help her, people will say the White family mistreats outsiders!” “Why can’t you think about the family for once instead of your own selfish interests?” “Selfish interests?” I laughed. “Dad, I prepared for a whole year. Who gave me a break?” He froze. I smiled bitterly. “Do you know that because you blocked me, my boyfriend and I broke up?” Dad frowned. “We dated for three years. We planned to meet the parents the day I got the offer. But he got in, and I didn’t. We were going to be thousands of miles apart. We broke up.” “Are you happy now, Dad?” I threw my glass on the floor. Shards flew. Sophie threw herself in front of Dad. “Sis, stop it!” Mom tried to pull me away. I just stared at him with red eyes. Sophie suddenly dropped to her knees. “Sis, I won’t take the job. I’ll quit. Please don’t blame Dad! I’m sorry! I’ll beg you!” She slammed her head on the floor. Dad grabbed her. “Why should you quit?! You’re taking it! You worked for it! Why should her tantrum ruin your future?” “No, Dad, I can’t let this family fall apart because of me!” My parents looked at her with heartache. Then Dad turned to me. “Look how sensible Sophie is. Look at you! You don’t understand even the basics of family. How can your mother and I rely on you in the future?” “Rely on me?” I laughed. “Since Sophie is so much better, why rely on me at all? From now on, let her be your daughter.” I slammed the door and left. 2 I heard Mom and the relatives chasing after me. I walked fast, slipping into the elevator and hitting the button. From the private room, I heard Dad smashing plates. “Let her go! Let’s see how long she can keep this up!” The elevator descended. My eyes burned. Outside the hotel, a giant LED screen broadcasted the congratulatory message: [Congrats to the White Family Heiress, Sophie, for Acing the Interview!] White Family Heiress… I zoned out for a moment. Until a waiter bumped into me. “So sorry! The guests in room 606 ordered another cake, a bigger one! They want the head chef to decorate it!” Sophie’s celebration room. “Why another one?” “Heard someone ruined the mood. The father is angry and wants to throw an even bigger party to make up for it. His daughter got into a big tech company, it’s a huge deal!” I laughed bitterly. I had actually taken the civil service exam and gotten into the tax bureau. But my family only cared about Sophie. No one even asked if I passed or where I was working. I went back to my apartment and spent the next day in a daze. That night, Sophie updated her social media. A video. She and my parents, surrounded by relatives, posing in front of a massive cake. She flashed a peace sign, looking blissful. Caption: [Thank you, Mom and Dad, for always having my back.] I turned off my phone. I didn’t go home that weekend. Usually, I’d have dinner with them. Instead, I drove to the university district. This was where I met Mark. Three years of college. We planned everything. Where to buy a house, when to have kids, where to retire. I never expected to be rejected from the job I was perfect for. He got in. A month later, he broke up with me. He said he couldn’t do long distance. I accepted it, helpless. I walked into the small restaurant we used to frequent. Just as I sat down, a couple across the aisle caught my eye. The man’s voice was familiar. “I used to come here all the time in college. The fish is amazing.” “With who?” The girl teased. The man laughed. I froze. “Mark?” He stiffened. Slowly, he turned around. Sitting opposite him was Sophie. She stared at me in shock. “Sis?” 3 “Wait here, babe.” Mark smiled gently at Sophie. Then he grabbed my arm and dragged me outside. “Don’t misunderstand. We met after we broke up.” “Bullshit!” My eyes stung. “She posted about getting a boyfriend last year! We were still together! Were you with her then?” His face went pale. “Mark, did you really break up with me because of the distance?” “I…” “Don’t lie to me.” He gritted his teeth and nodded. “Yes. I cheated. So what?” I didn’t expect him to be so blunt. “Aurora, my parents are factory workers. Getting me through college wasn’t easy. I fought tooth and nail to get where I am. If I see an opportunity, I have to take it!” I frowned. “What do you mean?” He sighed. “Actually, I missed the cutoff for the interview by a few points. Sophie talked to her dad—the regional VP—and he got me in.” I thought I misheard. “Her dad? You mean Mr. White?” “Yeah.” I almost collapsed. His own biological daughter gets blocked by a new rule. But for Sophie, a word is enough to get a stranger hired. I, the real daughter, was the outsider. The first casualty of success is the lover. I bit back tears. “Mark, I never thought you were this kind of person.” “Don’t blame me.” He frowned. “You don’t know how much I suffered to get here! Sure, I could have stayed with you. But if another woman can help me jump social classes and secure my future, why shouldn’t I choose her?” “If you truly loved me, you wouldn’t stop me.” “Besides, Aurora, if you had the same chance, you would have dumped me even faster.” I looked at him in disbelief. He sighed. “So don’t blame me for betraying you. Blame yourself for not being good enough to get into the company. Blame yourself for not having Sophie’s background or a father like Mr. White.” I paused. “You don’t know who my father is?” “Does it matter?” “What if… Mr. White is my father too?” He froze. Then he laughed. “If you were his daughter, why didn’t you get the job?” I had no answer. “Mark?” Sophie’s voice rang out. She walked up, concerned, and took his arm. “Is there a misunderstanding?” “Nothing. Just an ex from college who won’t let go.” Mark glanced at me, put his arm around Sophie, and walked away without looking back. As she turned, Sophie glanced at me. The corner of her mouth lifted in a smirk I couldn’t decipher. My phone rang. I answered numbly. It was Mom. “Aurora, it’s Sunday. Are you still refusing to come home? Dad is angry. Stop making a scene.” “I’m not making a scene.” I hung up. Then I dialed another number. “Hey, David. Tax audit. Is the Phoenix Corporation on our list?” “Yes, Chief.” “The VP recently took on a protégé. Keep a close eye on him.” “Understood.” For the next few days, I buried myself in work. I ignored every call from home. Until one evening, I was blocked outside my office. Mom got out of a car. “Aurora, finally. Dad is waiting at home. Stop this. You haven’t been home in a month. Just come back, we can talk it out.” I wanted to refuse. But my boss’s car was behind me. I didn’t want a scene. I got in. At home, Sophie was pouring tea for Dad. Dad looked up from the head of the table, frowning deeply. “You finally decided to show up?” 4 “If you don’t want me here, I’ll go back to work.” I turned to leave. Mom grabbed me. Dad was furious. “What work? That little job you found yourself, making peanuts? Is it worth acting like this?” “Without my help, what kind of job could you possibly get?” “Help?” I stared at him. “Mr. White, since when have you ever helped me?” He froze. “Other fathers might have nothing, but at least they don’t actively sabotage their daughters. But you? You’re different.” “Even when I make it on my own, you have to strike me down. Help? Your help goes to outsiders. When did I ever see a cent of it?” “Since you never gave me anything, what right do you have to threaten me with it?” “You!” Dad stood up abruptly. Sophie rushed over and grabbed my hand. “Sis! How can you talk to Dad like that? Apologize! He’s our father!” Dad clutched his chest, pointing a trembling finger at me. “See? This is why I help Sophie and not you!” Mom rubbed his back, looking at me with reproach. “Aurora, we brought you home to make peace, not to fight. Look at Sophie. Can’t you be more mature? Apologize!” I shook Sophie off. “I’m not mature. Sophie is. Good for her. You never treated me like a daughter anyway.” “How can you say that?!” “Am I wrong?” I stared Dad down. He smashed a cup at my feet. “Fine! Go! Let’s see how far you get in this city without me! Get out!!” Sophie reached out as if to stop me, but her hand barely grazed my sleeve. “Sis, don’t be stubborn! Apologize!” “Let her go, Sophie! Ungrateful brat! When she hits a wall, she’ll realize how wrong she is!” Even though I had steeled myself, hearing my own family favor her so blatantly made my eyes burn. I wiped them quickly, walked out, and hailed a cab. On my desk was the file David had compiled. I flipped through it. “I knew it. Sophie isn’t clean.” End of year tax audit. The inspection team pulled up to the Phoenix Corporation building. We went straight to Sophie’s office. “Audit me?” She laughed, leaning back in her chair. “Do you know who I am? Who authorized this?” “I did.” Sophie’s face went pale. The team stepped aside, clearing a path for me. I held up my badge. “Tax Bureau, Division One. Aurora White. We have evidence of tax evasion. Please cooperate.”

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Ten years into my marriage, I found a paternity test on my husband’s computer that I never knew existed. It stated, in stark black and white, that the son I had raised for a decade was not biologically mine. But I raised him. He grew up in my arms. So where was my real child? “Honey, what are you still doing in the study so late?” His voice startled me. I quickly closed the document, but not before he saw it. His face darkened. “So, this is how little you trust me!” I reopened the paternity test report and demanded to know what it meant. Instead of answering, he slammed the laptop shut and turned on me, accusing me of violating his privacy. Watching him walk away, I felt like I was looking at a stranger. After ten years of marriage, this was who he had become. Calmly, I opened a drawer and tore the tenth-anniversary gift I had prepared for him to shreds. … I pulled open the bottom drawer. Inside was a share transfer agreement, already signed by me. I had planned to give him 15% of the company’s shares on our anniversary tomorrow. But now, that seemed entirely unnecessary. I took the agreement and ripped it into tiny pieces. The scraps of paper fell into the trash, mixing with the wrapping paper I’d chosen for his gifts. Looking at them now, the joy I’d felt while preparing them was gone, replaced by a wave of nausea. When I returned to the bedroom, Mark was already in bed, acting as if nothing had happened. I stood in the doorway for a long time, watching the back of his sleeping form, then turned and went to the guest room. I didn’t sleep a wink. The next morning, Mark’s angry voice woke me. He was standing in the doorway of the guest room, his face a mask of fury. “Elara, what is the meaning of this? Why are you sleeping in here?” I sat up and looked at him. I had looked at this face for ten years, but now it felt completely alien. “I need some space.” He opened his mouth to argue, then just shook his head. “Fine. Whatever you want.” After Mark left for work, I made breakfast as usual. My son, Leo, sat at the table, drinking his milk. “Mom, you don’t look so good.” I stroked his hair. It was soft and slightly curly, just like Mark’s. For years, everyone had said how much they looked alike. “Mommy just didn’t sleep well. Hurry up and eat, or you’ll be late for school.” On the way to drop Leo off, my mind was a million miles away. At a red light, I turned around, pretending to fix his collar, and plucked a single hair from the back of his head. “You have a gray hair, sweetie. Let Mommy get it for you.” I tucked the hair into the small notebook I carried with me. After watching Leo walk into the school, I drove straight to a DNA testing center. “I need this rushed. What’s the fastest you can get the results?” “Standard is five business days. Rushed is by 4 PM today, but it’s triple the price.” “I’ll take the rush.” My hand trembled as I handed over the sample. After they took a swab from my cheek, I sat in the waiting area, watching the clock on the wall tick by, second by agonizing second. While I waited, I called a private investigator. “I want you to look into my husband, Mark Turner. Specifically, his movements over the past few months.” At 3:40 PM, my phone rang. The results were in. I opened the digital report and scrolled straight to the bottom. “Based on DNA analysis, the probability of a parental relationship between Elara Vance and Leo Turner is 0.0001%.” “Genetic marker analysis does not support Elara Vance as the biological mother of Leo Turner.” Even though I had been preparing myself, the words still made me gasp. I leaned against the wall for support. Not my son. I had raised a child that wasn’t mine for nine years. So where was my baby? I immediately drove to the hospital where I had given birth. I found the obstetrician who had delivered my baby. She was the head of the department now. I got straight to the point. “Dr. Evans, I need to see my delivery records and hospital file from nine years ago.” Her smile faltered for a second. “It’s been a long time. The files have probably been archived.” After some effort, someone from the records room finally brought out a folder. I opened it and found the records were shockingly brief. Just the admission and discharge dates, the delivery method, and the newborn’s weight. There were no detailed notes on the delivery, no nurse hand-off records, no report from the pediatrician. “Is this all there is?” “That’s all we have in the system,” she said apologetically. “Paper records for maternity cases are typically kept for ten years. Yours is almost at its expiration.” “What about the newborn’s footprints? The blood test records?” She shook her head. “Those would be in the newborn’s file, but we couldn’t find it.” It was obvious. Something was very wrong here. An overly simplified medical record, a missing newborn file, and a son who looked just like my husband but wasn’t mine. My phone rang. It was Mark. “Where are you? I’ve already picked up Leo.” I had completely forgotten it was past school dismissal time. Thankfully, I had informed the teacher I might be late. “I’m running some errands. I’ll be home soon.” I hung up. After dinner, I claimed to have a headache and went to my room early. Mark was in the living room, helping Leo with his homework. I could faintly hear their voices. “Dad, is Mom upset?” “She’s just tired. Finish your homework and get to bed early.” Once they were both asleep, I began to quietly search the house. The master bedroom, the living room, Leo’s room—I looked everywhere. I found nothing. Finally, my eyes fell on the computer in the study. The truth had to be in there. Just as I was about to open the file, I heard footsteps outside the door. I quickly closed the document. When Mark came in, I was tidying the desk. He glanced at the computer screen, which was back to the desktop wallpaper—a photo of the three of us at the beach from three years ago. “Still awake?” “Just organizing some old files.” As I spoke, I turned off the monitor. He stood there for a moment, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he just nodded. “Get some rest.” I sat in the dark, listening to his footsteps fade away. I didn’t turn the computer back on that night. My thoughts were a tangled mess. The next morning, I let Mark take Leo to school. He gave me a long look but took the car keys. “Okay.” The moment they were gone, I went to the study. I turned on the computer and typed in the password: our wedding anniversary. Incorrect. I tried his birthday. Incorrect. Our son’s birthday. Still incorrect. I tried the date we first met, his mother’s birthday, the day the company was founded. None of them worked. The system locked me out for fifteen minutes. I sat there, staring at the login screen. The computer we had bought together was now locked against me. That evening, Mark came home from work and said, as he was taking off his jacket, “I have a business trip to Hong Kong tomorrow. I’m not sure how long I’ll be.” I brought a dish out from the kitchen. “So sudden. Who are you going with?” He put his briefcase on the table and turned to me. “It was a last-minute arrangement. Elara, can you just stop?” I looked at him silently, confused by his overreaction to a simple question. “Stop what?” “You question everything, you’re suspicious of everyone. I’m just going to work.” I turned back to the kitchen to get the rice, my hand trembling slightly. “It was just a casual question.” He didn’t say anything else and went straight to the bedroom. Dinner was quiet. Leo seemed to sense the tension and, for once, didn’t complain about his food. After his shower, Mark picked up his coat from the sofa to hang it up. A small receipt fell from the pocket and landed at my feet. After he left the room, I picked it up. It was a receipt for an expensive bottle of perfume, purchased yesterday afternoon. I didn’t recognize the name of the perfume, but I knew it wasn’t for me. In ten years of marriage, Mark had stopped giving me gifts. I used to make excuses for him—he wasn’t romantic, he was busy with work, he was a practical man. Now I realized he wasn’t incapable of romance; his romance just wasn’t for me. I noted down the information on the receipt. The next morning, after Mark had left for the airport, I called the department store. “I need to check on a purchase made with this receipt. Yes, from yesterday afternoon.” “One moment… yes, I have it. The purchase was made by a Ms. Millie Chen.” Millie Chen. The name was familiar. She was Mark’s secretary, a divorced woman in her thirties he had hired six months ago. Driving to the airport, I didn’t know what I was hoping to find. Maybe the perfume was a gift for a client. Maybe I was overthinking it. I waited outside the international departures terminal for half an hour before I saw them. Mark and Millie. She was wearing a beige trench coat and pulling a small suitcase, walking beside him. Mark had a relaxed smile on his face, one I hadn’t seen in a very long time. At the security checkpoint, Millie stopped and naturally reached out to straighten Mark’s collar. He didn’t pull away. He leaned down and whispered something in her ear. Millie smiled, then stood on her toes and kissed him on the lips. Mark’s hand rested on her waist for a moment before they separated, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. My last shred of denial vanished. So those late nights at the office, those impatient glares—they all had a reason. As I watched their intimate exchange, a chilling suspicion began to form in my mind. The child who wasn’t mine… could he be connected to this woman? On the drive back, I called the private investigator. “I need you to look into someone else. Millie Chen. I want to know everything about her, especially if she has any children.” The investigator was fast. The next afternoon, I received the report. Millie Chen, thirty-two, divorced five years ago. She had a ten-year-old son named Ethan, who attended a primary school on the west side of the city. The date jumped out at me. Millie’s son was only a week younger than Leo. For the first time in ten years, I felt a rage so intense it made my blood boil. I sat on the sofa, the report in my hand. Then, an idea struck me. I ran to the study. My fingers hovered over the keyboard. Slowly, I typed in Millie Chen’s birthday. The desktop opened. There was only one folder, named “Work Backup.” I clicked on it. Inside were subfolders, organized by year, starting from eleven years ago. The oldest folder contained scanned photographs. Mark and Millie in school uniforms, standing under an acacia tree. A nineteen-year-old Mark was smiling, his arm around Millie’s shoulders. Millie, with her hair in a ponytail, was looking up at him. The next photo was from college, in the library. Then a graduation photo, the two of them in caps and gowns, holding hands. That was the year Mark told me the company was in trouble, and we canceled our anniversary trip. I closed the folder, a sick feeling rising in my stomach. Ten years of lies. I looked at the wedding photo of me and Mark on the desktop wallpaper and felt a wave of nausea. At 3 PM, I drove to the west side of the city. The primary school was even more run-down than the investigator’s report had described. The final bell rang, and children poured out of the school gates. I sat in my car, my hands gripping the steering wheel. He walked out alone. No one was there to pick him up. He looked both ways, then started walking slowly down the sidewalk. I held my breath. That child. Ethan. No, that was my son. The way he walked was a little like mine, slightly pigeon-toed. When he raised his hand to brush his hair back, I saw a birthmark on his wrist, in the exact same place as mine. I saw a speck of dust on his eyelashes, his lips were chapped, and the sole of his shoe was coming apart. His eyes were empty, not like a ten-year-old’s should be. I covered my mouth to stifle a sob. He walked away and disappeared around a corner. I slumped over the steering wheel and wept. For the child walking home alone, for the ten years of a life that had been stolen from me, and for the fool I had been, living in a play orchestrated by someone else. Then, I wiped my tears and started the car. At the law firm, I placed a USB drive on the lawyer’s desk. It contained copies of all the photos, the paternity test, the hospital records, the perfume receipt, and the information on Millie and Ethan. “I want a divorce. I want him to leave with nothing. I want custody of my son. And I want him to pay for what he’s done.” Walking out of the law firm, I remembered what Mark had said when he proposed. “Elara, I will give you a lifetime of security.” It turned out his lifetime was only ten years. No, maybe not even that long. I took out my phone and called the second-largest shareholder in the company, an old colleague of my father’s. “Mr. Roberts, about the board meeting next week, there’s something I’d like to discuss with you first.” Mark had probably forgotten that the company’s name was Vance Industries. He was the general manager because I had persuaded my father to give him a chance. I had built him up. I could also tear him down. Two weeks after Mark left, I liquidated all my disposable assets. Every afternoon, I drove to the area around the primary school on the west side. One day, it was raining. He didn’t have an umbrella. He waited under the eaves of a small shop by the school gate for half an hour before finally running home in the rain. I sat in my car, the rain blurring the windows. On Friday afternoon, I arrived early. When I saw Ethan—no, my son—come out, I got out of the car and pretended to be a passerby. I dropped a folder in front of him. He hesitated for a moment, then bent down to help me pick it up. “Thank you, young man. Hasn’t your mother come to get you yet?” He shook his head. “My mom’s working late today.” “How are you getting home?” “I take the bus.” I took an unopened bottle of water from my bag and handed it to him. “Have some water.” He hesitated, then took it and whispered, “Thank you.” I noticed that he had a habit of pursing his lips when he spoke, just like me. The shape of his eyes was the same, too. Hooded eyelids, with a slight downward tilt at the outer corners. “Does your mom work late often?” He nodded, then shook his head. “Sometimes.” “What about your dad?” He didn’t answer, just looked down at his shoes. The sole of his sneaker was coming apart, and the shoelace on his left foot was broken. I didn’t press him. I took two hundred dollars from my wallet and tucked it into his hand. “Go buy yourself a new pair of shoes.” He took a step back. “No, I can’t take this.” “Think of it as a thank you for helping me with my papers.” I put the money in the side pocket of his backpack and walked away. After a few steps, I glanced back. He was looking after me, a confused expression on his face. That night, I stood in the doorway of Leo’s room.

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Five years into our “DINK” (Double Income, No Kids) lifestyle, my boyfriend started testing my limits. It started with a brochure for a luxury postnatal care center that mysteriously appeared in our house. It boasted “Top-Tier Postpartum Recovery” and guaranteed a return to pre-pregnancy form. My boyfriend, David, explained, “Oh, that’s from my buddy Will’s new business. He handed them out to everyone at the reunion.” “His wife just had a baby and is staying there. We should go visit sometime; their kid is adorable.” Mmhmm. A perfectly reasonable explanation. Almost flawless. But I wasn’t stupid. That very day, I broke up with him. And froze all his credit cards. 1 I found the brochure tucked inside a thriller novel. “Top-Tier Postpartum Recovery.” It promised to restore a woman’s figure to perfection, maybe even better than before. I am staunchly child-free. Logically, I am not the target audience for this ad. Its appearance in my life was no accident. Someone planted it. I picked up the novel, lost in thought. David gave me this book this morning. He claimed it was the most gripping thriller he’d ever read and swore I’d love it. I am a huge thriller fan, so I took his recommendation. Which meant the brochure was placed there deliberately by David. This wasn’t the first baby-related “coincidence” lately. Parenting videos popping up in my feed titled “Child-free Couple Finally Decides to Have a Baby.” David’s friends casually asking about our family plans. Even our date last week was at a theme park famous for being kid-friendly. All signs pointed to one conclusion: David, who once vowed to be child-free with me, wanted a baby. I decided to confront him. 2 David came home in the evening. It was pouring rain outside, but instead of changing his wet clothes, he went straight to the bathroom to prepare a foot soak for me, then to the kitchen to brew my favorite herbal tea. A perfect boyfriend, by anyone’s standards. As he placed the foot basin in front of me, I slid the brochure across the table towards him. Years of understanding meant he got the message instantly. He started explaining, “It’s for Will’s center. You remember Will, right? My dorm neighbor in college.” “He handed one to everyone at the reunion. I didn’t think much of it and used it as a bookmark in that new novel. I forgot to take it out.” David laughed, pulling the brochure out and tossing it aside. “Will always loves to brag. Postpartum recovery is tough, but he makes it sound so easy.” “But his center seems legit. His own wife is staying there! We should visit them sometime. Will showed me photos of his kid; he’s so cute!” David rambled on about Will’s happy family of three, a longing look in his eyes he probably didn’t even notice. I interrupted him. “David, are you doing all this to tell me that after five years, you want a child?” David’s expression shifted, then quickly returned to normal. He hugged me gently. “Peach, what are you thinking? I promised to be child-free with you.” “Having you is enough. Kids don’t matter. If you don’t like me talking about this, I won’t mention it again.” David was handsome, with charming eyes. His sweet words might work on younger girls. But I’m 30. I’ve seen it all. I pushed him away, showing him the inexplicable baby content on my phone. Then I opened the link he sent me days ago for “date ideas”—all family-friendly resorts. “David, I’m not stupid.” “People change. You want a child now. I don’t blame you.” “So let’s end this amicably.” David’s face turned ugly. “Peach, you’re breaking up with me?” I nodded and turned to pack. “I have a business trip tomorrow for a week. Use that time to pack your things and move out.” David kept rambling. “Peach, I promise, I don’t mean to pressure you. I respect your choices; that’s why I’ve stayed by your side all these years. The evidence you found is all just coincidence…” I ignored him. The doorbell rang. My driver and bodyguard were waiting. David tried to grab my arm but was blocked by the bodyguard’s imposing frame. His voice faded away outside the car window. 3 I met David when I was 25. At 25, I had finally solidified my position within the family business, officially becoming the head of Sterling Corp. That same year, I visited my alma mater and met David, who was five years younger than me and just starting his research. My mentor introduced him enthusiastically. “This is David. Only a sophomore and already working on projects with me. Bright future ahead!” David had a clean, handsome look, with upturned eyes that gave him a slightly enchanting allure. He blushed as he greeted me. “Hi, senior.” I looked him over. My type. Before David, I had dated the poor but upright scholar, the adrenaline junkie, and the refined rich kid. I hadn’t tried the “David” type yet. I started pursuing him. Nothing too overt—just dropping by the lab to offer guidance, helping him out when he was bullied by peers, and securing him an internship at a top firm… David confessed his feelings quickly. I accepted. Honestly, I just wanted to have some fun. I assumed he was like the others—after my money or power. Like the poor scholar who, three months in, started asking when we could get married. I found his search history full of “how to marry rich.” Or the rich kid, whom my security cameras caught poking holes in all the condoms in my nightstand. His family was on the verge of bankruptcy and needed a cash injection. Binding me with a child was a smart move. But David seemed different. He loved me. Or at least, he acted like he did. I was honest with every partner about being child-free. Most were shocked, as if no matter how high I climbed, my duty as a woman was still to reproduce. David wasn’t. He just held me, his voice low and gentle. “Peach, I don’t know much about childbirth. Maybe I should try to understand your decision first.” He didn’t just talk. He took notes on the child-free lifestyle. He even tried a labor pain simulator. Then he said, “Peach, I understand now.” “Just the physical pain alone… I couldn’t bear to let you go through that.” 4 Three years in, David became my longest relationship. I took him to visit my parents’ graves. When I was 18, my parents died in a car accident. I knew it was my mother’s doing. Since I was born, she had been slowly pushed out of power. The company changed names, my father cheated, everything changed. I learned this from her diary. The turning point was having a child. She found herself excluded from the core circle, with everyone deferring to my father. Worse was the toll on her body. Already weak from years of hard work, childbirth drained her. Her energy and memory faded, making her struggle with work. My father, the man who married into her family, seized the opportunity. Her last words to me were: “Peach, I’ve handled everything. The company is yours. But the road ahead, you must walk alone.” Her story shaped me. I have her blood and her ambition. I refuse to follow in her footsteps. Besides, the situation isn’t stable. Relatives on my father’s side, from his brother to distant cousins, are all eyeing my position. I have to fight to keep my throne. I can’t relax. David was the first man to hear this story. For three years, he was perfect. Not demanding, emotionally supportive, respecting my decisions. Sometimes, I allowed myself to fall for it. I told him, “David, do you understand? I can’t have kids. It’s never enough. I can’t stop. I have to climb.” He held my hand. “Then I’ll be the one watching you climb.”

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I was a D-list celebrity, struggling to stay relevant in an industry that forgot me yesterday. One day, while gaming online, a teammate decided to get nasty. “A girl at this rank? Must have sold herself to get here. Need Big Brother to help you out?” Normally, a celebrity would ignore it. But I’m a nobody, so I don’t have a reputation to protect. I turned on my mic and let loose. “You sound like an expert. Done this a lot? Need me to introduce you to some clients so you can make some cash? You sound jealous.” “With a mouth like that, you could open a stinky tofu stand without buying supplies.” “If the vice squad picked you up, they wouldn’t even need an interrogation. One look at that mouth and it’s life without parole.” I flamed him for the entire match. When it ended, I discovered that our Jungler, who had been defending me, was a pro player livestreaming the whole thing. The chat went wild: [Sister went off! Please open a masterclass, I’m on my knees listening!] 1 As a D-list actress, my schedule is emptier than a politician’s promises. I had plenty of time. Bored out of my mind, I launched Glory of Kings. Less than six minutes in, our Mid Laner started raging on voice chat. “Just my luck. How do trash players get into this rank? Boosted much?” I checked the scoreboard. He was 0-5. I was 4-1. Probably not talking about me. Curious, I opened the details panel. He had the worst stats and the lowest gold. I stayed silent. There are too many fragile egos online, and I’m not a therapist. A team fight broke out mid. He was out of position and got instantly deleted. Luckily, the rest of us were farmed enough to win the fight with just his casualty. I went back to base to heal, and heard him again. “ADC, do you even know how to play? Idiot. That girly profile pic must be yours, huh?” I was about to mute him when he doubled down. “Heh, no wonder this game feels so hard. Matched with a girl. Bad luck to see a girl at this rank. Can’t you females just go play your own games? Stop ruining it for everyone else. Who carried you here? Did you sleep with someone for it?” My temper flared instantly. Our Jungler spoke up: “Watch your mouth, bro. If you can’t speak properly, donate your tongue to someone who can.” Mid Laner laughed knowingly. “I get it, Jungler bro. Is the ADC fun? Share the joy with the boys, hahaha.” If I tolerated this any longer, I might as well be a doormat. 2 The Jungler started to reply, “Your mouth…” I cut him off. “Brother, stand down. Don’t interrupt my flow.” The Jungler had a nice voice, but I didn’t have time to appreciate it. I took a sip of water to clear my throat. “You sound like an expert. Done this a lot? Need me to introduce you to some clients so you can make some cash? You sound jealous.” “With a mouth like that, you could open a stinky tofu stand without buying supplies.” “If the vice squad picked you up, they wouldn’t even need an interrogation. One look at that mouth and it’s life without parole.” He got excited hearing my voice. “Ooh, hit a nerve, did I? Triggered much? Hahahaha!” My comeback was rapid-fire. “Triggered? I’m not the one who’s 1-7. If I had your stats, I’d have smashed my keyboard by now. Anyone with hands could do better.” “Hey, you know what? Only triggered people accuse others of being triggered. Takes one to know one, right?” I was feeling great. Since entering showbiz, I’ve had to wear a mask—no eye-rolling, no frowning, always smiling. Today, this guy walked right into the line of fire. All my pent-up frustration was unleashed on him. As a former keyboard warrior, I have my own set of rules. Rule #1: Be loud. Volume establishes dominance. But avoid banned words. Swearing is weak. On the internet, I am an orphan. My family tree begins and ends with me. That’s the only way to be invincible. I stood up, fully immersed in the roast, unaware that the Jungler was a pro player named Frost, and he was live to over 100,000 people. [Sister isn’t using curse words but every sentence is lethal. Satisfying.] [If I were that Mid, I’d die of anger.] [Sister went off! Please open a masterclass, I’m on my knees listening!] 3 After a few rounds, I felt like I’d unlocked a hidden superpower. The more I scolded, the more energized I became. The game chat and the livestream were dominated by my voice and the noise coming from that animal in Mid lane. He went AFK in the fountain just to focus on cursing me out. “What the hell are you playing? Trash! An ADC who doesn’t rotate? Are you stupid?” “I don’t even want this win anymore. I’m going to flame you until I’m happy.” I drank some water and continued the battle. “If you’re so amazing, how come I haven’t seen your name in the pro leagues? If you think I’m trash, work harder! Get to 500 stars and you won’t match with me.” “Bad luck for you meeting me today. If you were actually good, you wouldn’t be in my matchmaking bracket.” “Since you matched with me, you’re not all that either. We’re trash together.” “You never shut up. Even a pager would bow down to you. Are you the ancestor of all pagers?” The chat in the livestream slowed down as people listened. [Sister, slow down, I can’t take notes fast enough!] [I envy her mouth. I used to get scolded until I cried at night.] [Am I the only one who thinks this voice sounds familiar?] [Just you. It sounds like heaven to me.] [I think Mid is right. Why do girls play games? They all suck and feed.] The streamer, Frost, who had been enjoying the show, stopped playing. He glanced at the chat. His deep voice cut in: “Mods? Ban that toxic guy in chat.” 4 Thanks to the Jungler and me, we won the game in fifteen minutes. I got MVP. The Mid Laner went 1-7 and AFK’d. I reported him immediately. Score deduction: 10+3. Satisfied, I tried to return to the lobby, but both the Jungler and Mid invited me. [Quick, Frost, invite the sister! Carry her!] [+1] [+10086] One game, one grudge. The game was over, and I didn’t want to fight anymore. The Jungler was really good. Since he invited me, duo-queue seemed like a safe bet for ranking up. I entered the lobby and typed: “Thanks for backing me up earlier, bro.” He turned on his mic. “No problem. I hate people like that. You’re really good. Great skills, great insults.” I felt a bit shy hearing that, especially with his nice voice. Just hearing it, I could imagine a handsome face to match his anime profile pic. But the Mid Laner wouldn’t let it go. He kept inviting me. Seeing I wouldn’t accept, he added me as a friend: [Scared to join the lobby? Coward?] I had calmed down thanks to the soothing voice of the Jungler, but that one sentence reignited my rage. I asked the Jungler: “Mind if I invite someone? That Mid from last game, he’s asking for it.” He paused, then said seriously, “Go ahead. Need me to leave? Or help you?” I waved my hand, realizing he couldn’t see, and quickly said, “I won’t drag you into this. Just watch me work.”

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1 I woke in a haze, the world blurry and distant after my kidney transplant. The first thing I saw was Mom and Dad, screaming and crying as the cops hauled them away. It turned out my new kidney had been bought off the black market, for a very high price. The little girl whose kidney they’d taken had just been rescued. Seven days later, I was moved from the sterile isolation ward to a regular room. I had barely settled in when a beautiful, frantic woman burst through the door and lunged at me. “You little monster,” she shrieked, her hands grabbing at me. “You stole my daughter’s kidney! How could you? Give it back! Do you hear me? Give it back!” The man beside her, however, just stared at me, his eyes locked on my neck. “Seraphina, look,” he said, his voice tight. “The birthmark on her neck… it’s identical to our Evelyn’s.” … “My poor Chloe,” the woman, Seraphina, sobbed, her grief raw and terrifying. “She’s only seven, and now she’s missing a kidney!” “Oh, God, what did I do to deserve this? I’ve already lost one daughter, isn’t that enough?” “It’s all because of you, you little beast! If it weren’t for you, my daughter would never have been kidnapped, her kidney would never have been cut out of her!” Nurses and an orderly rushed in, trying to pull her away. “Ma’am, please, this child is only seven, too,” a nurse pleaded. “Her parents were just arrested. She’s been all alone since the surgery. She’s been through enough, please, leave her be.” “She’s been through enough?” Seraphina’s voice dripped with venom. “She has my daughter’s kidney inside her body! What has she been through? Her kidney failed, so she gets to steal my daughter’s? What about my Chloe? Hasn’t she been through enough?” Her eyes were bloodshot, her finger pointed right at my nose as she spat her accusations, flecks of saliva hitting my face. It wasn’t enough. She wrenched herself free from the staff, and the full force of her palm slammed into my cheek. The world exploded in a flash of white. A torrent of hot blood gushed from my nose, and I froze, paralyzed with shock. I scrambled back on the bed, trembling, with nowhere to hide. Tears, spit, and blood streamed down my face, staining the clean white sheets. I curled into a ball, hugging my head, my world collapsing into sobs. “Mommy, Daddy, save me… I’m so scared, it hurts so much!” I was only seven. I used to be their precious little girl. I was in the hospital for acute kidney failure. I didn’t know. I swear, I didn’t know that the kidney Mom and Dad said would save me had cost another little girl so much. Seraphina stood over me, her nails digging into my arm as she continued to curse me. Every touch was like an electric shock, making me flinch and shrink further away. Before, whenever someone bullied me, Mom would wrap me in her arms, and Dad would be ready to fight for me. But who was going to protect me now? Finally, the man who had come in with her, Julian, pulled her back. His eyes were still fixed on my neck. “Seraphina, look at it,” he insisted. “That birthmark… it’s exactly like our Evelyn’s…” She shot a glance at me. “Like hell it is! Don’t you try to change the subject and make excuses for this little parasite.” “I’m telling you,” she snarled, turning her fury back to me, “you give Chloe’s kidney back! Or I swear, I will make your life a living hell!” She left, and a warm puddle spread beneath me on the bed. I had wet myself. The orderly who had stayed behind silently stripped the soiled sheets, looking down at me with a heavy sigh. “A damned shame,” was all she said. She left with the trash and never came back. My hospital account was now overdue. They couldn’t afford an orderly for me anymore. The painkillers stopped. My meals became little more than broth and water. I was in pain, I was starving, and I had no idea what to do. The hospital called the police, reporting that I had no guardian and they should take me away. The police said I was a patient, and the hospital was responsible for me. I was a piece of trash, pushed from one place to another, wanted by no one. Three days later, the man, Julian, returned. He held a file in his hands, his expression conflicted as he stared at me for a long time before finally speaking. “Evelyn,” he began, his voice strained. “I’m your father, Julian Grey. And Seraphina, the woman you met… she’s your mother.” “You were taken from us by a trafficker when you were ten months old. We’ve been searching for you ever since.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “And Chloe… she’s your sister. That kidney inside you… it was hers. She’s the reason you’re alive.” I was so hungry I barely had the strength to move, but I summoned every bit of courage I had and whispered, “Sir, my name is Elara Miller. My dad is Mark Miller, and my mom is Linda Miller.” “I have a mom and dad.” “I… I want to see them!” At the mention of my parents, my eyes filled with tears, and my small hands twisted the fabric of my hospital gown into knots. A flicker of impatience crossed the man’s face, his tone turning harsh. “Those animals paid twenty grand for you! They don’t deserve to be parents. They don’t even deserve to be called human!” “No, that’s not true! My mommy and daddy are good people! They love me! I… I won’t let you say that about them!” He shot to his feet, his voice booming in the small room. “Evelyn Grey, I am your father! You have my other daughter’s kidney inside you. Do you honestly think I’m happy to acknowledge you?” “I’ve been talking to you all this time, and you haven’t called me ‘Dad’ once, but you call those child-trafficking monsters ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’?” “Let me give you some advice,” he said, leaning in, his voice a low growl. “You’d better figure out your place in all of this, and fast. Because if you don’t, your life is about to get much, much harder.” He stormed out, leaving me shivering in the cold silence. I buried my face in my hands and wept. It couldn’t be true. How could I not be my parents’ daughter? They loved me so much. They would go to jail for me! I didn’t want that woman who hated me with every fiber of her being. I already had a mommy and a daddy. I had to see them. I had to hear it from their own mouths that I was their child. 2 Thankfully, the hospital bills were paid. The drip stand by my bed was once again filled with expensive, imported medicines. A week later, a luxury car came and whisked me away to a place they called the Grey Estate. The staff eyed me with open hostility as I stood, weak and trembling, at the grand entrance. “That’s the one who stole Miss Chloe’s kidney. How dare she show her face here?” “Shameless. First she takes the kidney, now she thinks she can waltz in here and take Miss Chloe’s place as the family heiress?” “Look at her, like a little rat. I’m certainly not waiting on someone like that.” They didn’t bother to lower their voices. But I never wanted to be an heiress. My name is Elara Miller! I have a mom and a dad who love me. The sharp click-clack of high heels echoed from behind me, and Seraphina’s furious face filled my vision. She grabbed the front of my gown and started dragging me back out the door. I lost my footing and fell, my body scraping painfully against the marble floor as she pulled me. “I don’t care! I will not have this little monster living in my house! She hurt Chloe, she’s a predator!” “Seraphina, calm down! She’s our daughter! I showed you the DNA report!” Julian’s voice was sharp. “She is not! Our Evelyn died a long time ago! I only have one daughter, and her name is Chloe!” “How could this… this trash be Evelyn?” “Get her out! Get out!” My small body was dragged over the threshold, down the stone steps. The pain in my abdomen flared, sharp and searing. The wound felt like it was tearing open. I clutched my stomach, crying out that it hurt. But no one listened. “Seraphina! Let go of Evelyn! Do you think I’d care about her if she didn’t have Grey family blood in her veins?” Julian shouted. “Chloe is my daughter too, you know! I’m hurting just as much as you are!” He moved to grab me from her, but in the struggle, his foot came down hard on my stomach. An involuntary scream tore from my throat. I writhed on the ground, clutching myself as waves of agony washed over me. Only then did they seem to notice the trail of blood seeping through my gown, a dark ribbon stretching from the house all the way into the courtyard. “How disgusting! Someone clean up this little beast’s blood, now!” “She’s stained my favorite courtyard…” The last thing I saw before I passed out was Seraphina’s face, twisted in a mask of pure disgust. I woke up in the estate’s storage room. A single wooden plank served as a bed. There was no water, no food, and no one. The pain from my surgical wound was intense. I curled up, hugging myself tightly. Mommy, Daddy, I miss you so much. If you knew how much I’m suffering, you’d be heartbroken, wouldn’t you? Just wait for me. I’ll find a way to see you. I’m your daughter. I’ll always be your daughter. The wooden door creaked open, and I was hauled back into the main villa. On the sofa sat Julian and Seraphina, along with a girl about my age and a stern-looking older woman—my grandmother, I presumed. The little girl saw me and ran over, her face bright with excitement as she took my hand. “I haven’t had anyone to play with in so long! Mommy, did you find a friend to come play with me?” Before I could pull my hand away, Seraphina snatched the girl up into her arms, her eyes filled with a love so fierce it was almost painful to watch. Her voice was as soft as silk. “Chloe, darling, don’t touch her. She’s filthy.” “Mommy, if you talk like that, you’ll make our guest sad. If she’s dirty, we can just give her a bath! I have new clothes she can wear, then she won’t be dirty anymore!” Seraphina opened her mouth, but then closed it, her gaze softening as it rested on Chloe, adoration spilling from her eyes. So this was the sister I had harmed. She was beautiful, adorable, and as soft and gentle as a little white rabbit. The grandmother on the sofa cleared her throat. “Seraphina,” she said, her voice commanding. “Evelyn is Grey blood. She belongs in this family, and she will stay.” “Mother!” Seraphina protested. “This is not up for discussion. Am I supposed to let a descendant of the Grey family be raised on the streets like some stray? What would that do to our family’s reputation?” Her word was final. “You,” she said, her gaze pinning me to the spot. “Come here. Kneel before your parents, call them ‘Mother’ and ‘Father,’ and we’ll put this matter to rest.” “From now on, you are the eldest Miss Grey, and Chloe is the second.” When I didn’t move, she sighed, her tone softening slightly. “Evelyn, I know you’re scared. But your mother and father truly do love you. When you were lost, your mother nearly died from grief.” “That’s why we adopted Chloe, who was the same age as you. We always told Chloe she had an older sister. We never hid the fact that she was adopted.” “Because your parents have always been waiting, hoping that one day, they would find you.” “Evelyn, be a good girl. Kneel, say the words, and from now on, Grandma will protect you. No one will ever bully you again.” Her words were meant for Seraphina as much as for me. But how could I betray the mom and dad who loved me? “Grandmother,” I said, my voice trembling but firm, my teeth chattering from fear. “My name… is Elara Miller. I want to go back to my own home. I want to see my mommy and daddy.” The room fell silent. The warmth vanished from my grandmother’s face, replaced by a terrifying, icy mask. “You see, Mother? The little beast has no heart!” Seraphina exploded. “I say we cut her open, take the kidney back for Chloe, and throw her out with the trash!” “Evelyn, you are an ungrateful child!” Julian roared. “Your grandmother came here personally to speak up for you, and this is how you repay her? By defying her?” In the chaos, Chloe wriggled out of her mother’s arms and ran to me, taking my hand. “Sister, please don’t make Grandma and Mommy and Daddy angry. I don’t blame you. We’re a family.” “I’ve been waiting for you to come home, sister! I can play with you from now on, just the two of us. Wouldn’t that be nice?” She threw her arms around me in an excited hug, but her movement jostled my wound. A sharp jolt of pain shot through me, and I instinctively pushed her away. Chloe lost her balance, stumbling backward. Her head hit the hard floor with a sickening thud. For a split second, there was silence. Then, she let out a piercing wail. My blood ran cold. I knew, in that moment, that I had done something terrible. 3 “Chloe!” They swarmed around her like bees to a threatened hive. Seraphina clutched her tightly, whispering comforts, her own eyes red with panic. Julian frantically checked the back of Chloe’s head, shouting for the butler to call their private doctor. Even my grandmother rushed over, patting Chloe’s back gently. Once they were sure Chloe wasn’t seriously hurt, all eyes turned to me. There was nothing but pure, undiluted hatred in their gazes. “You black-hearted little monster,” Seraphina hissed, advancing on me. “I knew you wanted to hurt Chloe.” “Did you think if you killed her, you could take her place? In your dreams!” Two sharp slaps cracked across my face. “Someone get me a rope!” Julian’s voice was low, but vibrating with fury. “Tie this little menace up and lock her in the storage room! Let her think about what she’s done!” Even my grandmother turned her back on me, heading upstairs to check on Chloe without another word. “Please, just let me go,” I begged, tears streaming down my face. “I just want to go home! I just want to see my mom and dad!” My pain, my fear, my desperation—it meant nothing to them. “Gag her!” Seraphina screamed. “Tie her up and get her out of my sight! Now!” I was bound tightly, the coarse rope digging directly into the tender flesh of my wound. Every breath was a fresh wave of tearing, searing agony. I wanted to scream, but my mouth was stuffed with a filthy rag. Tears and snot covered my face. My nose was blocked. I couldn’t breathe. Mommy, Daddy, please, somebody save me! It hurts so much! I don’t know how long I was left like that, drifting in and out of a haze of pain. Eventually, someone came to untie me. A doctor treated my wound, and the storage room became my new home. Someone brought me food at regular intervals, and I was allowed to use the outdoor staff bathroom. The estate was vast and beautiful, but I didn’t want to be there. The desire to go home, to see my real parents, burned stronger than ever. I explored every corner of the property, searching for an escape route, but the walls were too high, the gates always locked. I was an anomaly on the estate. They called me “Eldest Miss,” but not a single person treated me with a shred of respect. Only Chloe still clung to me. She loved calling me “Sister” and followed me everywhere. Her kindness terrified me. She was the family’s cherished treasure, and I was afraid that one wrong move, one accidental slight, would land me tied up in the darkness again. So I ran, and she chased. To her, it was a game. To me, it was a torment I couldn’t escape. One afternoon, she cornered me by the lake. “Sister, I got you!” she giggled, out of breath. “That was fun! Let’s play again. You run, and I’ll catch you, okay?” “Get away from me!” I finally snapped, my frustration reaching its peak. “Just leave me alone!” I turned and walked away, ignoring the wounded, tearful look on her face. A moment later, I heard a splash. She had slipped and fallen into the lake. After a heartbeat of hesitation, I dove in after her. I managed to pull her out, dragging her onto the bank just as a crowd of staff came running. “Chloe! Sweetheart, how did you fall in? Did someone push you?” Seraphina was there in an instant, wrapping Chloe in her arms, shooting me a look of pure loathing from the corner of her eye. “Sister…” Chloe choked out, coughing up water before she could say more. I stared in horror at Seraphina’s face, which was twisting with rage. “It wasn’t me!” I cried, desperate. “She fell in by herself! I saved her!” My words were meaningless. “I knew it… I knew it was you,” she seethed. “You venomous little snake. Chloe does nothing but sing your praises, and you try to kill her!” Julian arrived, his eyes wide with disbelief. “I told you we should have just taken her to the hospital, taken the kidney, and been done with it! But no, you insisted on keeping her, on finding a donor for a replacement!” “Julian, we’ve been raising a viper! If she ever hurts my Chloe again, I swear, I will kill myself!” Julian looked at Chloe, who was still coughing weakly, and his eyes turned red. “Evelyn! What is wrong with you?” he roared at me. “You have Chloe’s kidney, and I’m protecting you! I brought you home to be the eldest daughter of the Grey family, and you’re still this vicious?” “If I had known you were this kind of child, I would have left you to die on the street! If anything had happened to Chloe, I would have torn you to pieces!” I gasped for air, my whole body trembling. The wound in my abdomen had torn open again from the effort of the rescue, and the pain was excruciating. The servants were already approaching with ropes. I couldn’t bear it again. I would rather die. “The Eldest Miss Grey? I never wanted to be your precious Eldest Miss!” I screamed, my voice raw with anguish. “I just want to be Elara Miller! I just want my own mommy and daddy!” “You already have Chloe! Why won’t you let me go? Who wants to be your daughter?” “You’ve given me nothing but pain!” “Fine! You want the kidney? Take it! Take my life, too! Is that what you want?” Before anyone could react, I turned and threw myself back into the cold, dark water of the lake. I knew how to swim. But this time, I didn’t try. I let myself sink, welcoming the silent, suffocating darkness. When they dragged me out, Julian’s face was ashen, and Seraphina was pale as a ghost. “Evelyn,” Julian’s voice trembled with a rage I hadn’t heard before. “You’d rather die than be our daughter? Is that how badly you want to see those animals?” I just nodded, my resolve firm. “Fine,” he said, his jaw tight. “I’ll arrange a visit.” A flicker of hope ignited within me. For the first time since I’d arrived at the Grey Estate, I smiled. “Thank you… sir.” The night before the visit, I was too excited to sleep. I woke up early, put on my cleanest clothes, and tried to make myself look presentable. Julian sat beside me in the car. I felt small and nervous, but not afraid. I was about to see my mommy and daddy. With their love, I could face anything. In the stark, gray room of the prison, my parents looked exhausted and worn. But when they saw me, their faces lit up, their muscles trembling with emotion. I ran to them, tears of joy streaming down my face. “Mommy, Daddy, I missed you so much!” CRACK. A stinging slap sent my head reeling. It was Mom. Her face was a terrifying mask of rage. She raised her hand again and struck me with all her might. I stumbled back and fell to the floor, too stunned to even cry. I’m Elara. I didn’t betray you. I didn’t accept them. I’ve been waiting for you. I love you. Why? Mom, why are you hitting me? Dad lunged forward, his foot raised to kick me, but a guard quickly intervened. Pinned by the guards, he and Mom still thrashed, reaching for me, their mouths opening in a torrent of curses and screams. I stared, paralyzed, a horrifying memory surfacing—the moment they were arrested. Their screams and cries then weren’t for me. They were at me. Just like now.

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Before the SATs, I gave the whole class a list of key topics to study. To my surprise, I guessed 80% of them correctly. After the exams, I was accepted into Harvard, and everyone in my class got into their dream universities. But on the day my family was celebrating, a group of police officers stormed in. It turned out the class president had led a campaign to report me. She rallied the class, claiming I had obtained the answers in advance, which was why I became the top scorer. My admission was rescinded, and my mom was sent to prison because of me. People online called me shameless, saying I should die for cheating on the SATs. They came to my house, splashing paint and throwing rotten eggs. Someone even put a bounty on me on the dark web. Over the years, the relentless abuse drove me to severe mental illness. One dark night, I swallowed a whole bottle of sleeping pills. When I opened my eyes again, I was back before the exams. Facing the jeers of my classmates, I smiled. Predicting exam questions? That’s my specialty! This time, the accuracy will be 100%! 1 It was evening study hall in our senior year. The classroom was silent, save for the rustling of leaves outside the window. I was staring blankly at the “3 Days Until SATs” countdown when the class president, Hailey Miller, suddenly stood up. “Sophia, isn’t your mom on the SAT question committee? Do you have any inside scoop to share?” As soon as she spoke, everyone stopped writing. “Sophia, why didn’t you say so earlier! If your mom is making the questions, she must have given you the key topics. It’s not cool to keep it to yourself!” “I heard the Math section is brutal this year. Sophia, do you know what the essay prompt is?” “Yeah, and the Reading section! My comprehension sucks, I always go off-topic!” Looking at their eager eyes, I finally realized—I had been reborn! In my past life, I explained countless times. Although my mom was on the committee, she had been in sequester since March. I hadn’t been able to contact her for a long time, so there was no way I could know the questions. But my classmates didn’t care. They were convinced I knew the questions and was keeping them secret to be the top scorer. Three years of high school, studying desperately for this one exam. I saw their struggles. For the sake of their futures, I shared the key topics I had summarized over the year. Unexpectedly, I hit 80% of the actual questions. All thirty-nine students in my class got into top-tier universities. Hailey gave my desk mate, Lucas, a look. He immediately understood. “Sophia, your mom is an English teacher, right?” “The essay and grammar sections are worth a lot. If we can ace those, we can easily get a high score even if we mess up the rest!” Originally, the classmates were just grumbling, but hearing this, their eyes widened. “English is my weakest subject. If I can get a decent score, I can get into the Chemistry program at NYU! Sophia, have mercy. I’ll call you my godmother!” “One point on the SATs can mean a difference of thousands of rankings. If I get those forty points, think of how many people I’ll leave in the dust!” Hailey wouldn’t let up, adding fuel to the fire. “That’s just English. Sophia’s mom can definitely get the answers for other subjects too! If our whole class gets top scores, maybe Harvard and Yale will be fighting over us!” The quiet classroom exploded into chaos. “Alright, settle down!” The homeroom teacher slammed his book on the podium. “Sophia, your grades have always been good. You can’t just ignore your classmates’ futures to be the top scorer.” “We are a team. Stop hiding it. Share the key topics, and everyone will be grateful.” Grateful? I sneered internally. They wouldn’t be grateful. They would only resent me for not giving them all the key topics! In my past life, as soon as they got their acceptance letters, they turned around and reported my mom for leaking exam questions, led by Hailey! My mom was sentenced to five years. My scores were canceled, and Harvard rescinded my admission. The sudden trauma caused my dad to have a heart attack, and he passed away shortly after. While my family was destroyed, my dear classmates were celebrating the high scores they got because of my predictions! Unexpectedly, I opened my eyes and was reborn before the exams. With the experience from my past life, my prediction accuracy is 100%. But I won’t give it to them so easily. Facing the jeers of the class, I made a silent decision. “Yes, my mom said as long as I memorize the content in this book, I’ll definitely be the top scorer!” I patted the book on my desk and smiled. I dare to say the correct answers for every subject, but I wonder if you dare to write them down! 2 Hailey’s eyes lit up, and she ran over from the front row. When she saw the book in my hand was “SAT Prep 2024,” her face turned pale. “Sophia, if you don’t want to help, just say so. No need to play us like this!” She squeezed out a few tears, looking utterly wronged. Seeing her cry, Lucas immediately felt distressed. “Hailey is thinking about our future. Sophia, don’t be too much!” The classmates joined in. “Being antisocial is one thing, but bullying classmates? I say you’re just jealous Hailey is prettier than you!” “Exactly. Who wants your key topics anyway? Sophia, if you have a problem, take it out on us!” Hailey could barely suppress her smile. She raised an eyebrow at me, a clear provocation. Looking at Lucas’s dark face, my heart turned to ice. I had a crush on him for three years. For three years, I brought him breakfast and tutored him, but no matter what I did, he only had eyes for Hailey. It was fine if he didn’t like me. But after my mom went to prison, he tricked my dad into thinking I was suicidal, causing his heart attack and death! “Sophia, you must apologize to Hailey!” “Yes, apologize!” I looked coldly at these ingrates, refusing to say a word. Until the bell rang, the homeroom teacher said slowly, arms crossed, “If you don’t apologize to Hailey, everyone will stay here with you.” Complaints erupted around me. I bit my lip until I tasted blood, forcing out the words. “I’m sorry…” The students scattered like birds. I lay on my desk, sobbing. Hailey walked up to me slowly, dropping the act. “Good grades are useless; winning hearts is what matters! Let’s see if you dare to go against me again!” I looked up, sobbing, “I didn’t lie to you. I know the answers to every subject!” Shock flashed in her eyes but was quickly suppressed. “The essay prompt is about ‘legacy and innovation,’ the reading passage is from The Art of War, the answers are C, C, D, A, B…” With every sentence, Hailey’s expression grew more serious. “How can you prove this is real?” “The first exam is English. You’ll know if I’m right when you take it!” “Our city has never had a perfect score valedictorian. If you get a perfect score, you can pick any university and major in the country.” Hailey’s eyes darted around. She tore a page from my notebook and furiously wrote everything down. An hour later, the paper was filled with text. “Aren’t you trying to be the valedictorian? Why are you so kind to give me the answers?” “My mom gave me the answers. If I become the valedictorian, it would attract too much attention. I just need a score good enough for Harvard.” Hailey stared at me skeptically. After a long while, she raised her hand as if to hit me, and I instinctively covered my head. “If you dare play me again, watch how I deal with you!” I shrank back, timidly pulling her sleeve. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone. Leaking exam questions is a big deal; I could go to jail!” “I’m not that stupid. With this, the state valedictorian title is mine!” I sneered internally. Dreaming of being a perfect-score valedictorian with her mediocre grades? She really dares to dream. I want to see how she faces public scrutiny after the exams! 3 One day left until the SATs. Classes were suspended for self-study, with teachers available for Q&A. During the break, Hailey mysteriously called Lucas aside. When Lucas returned, he threw his textbook aside and went straight to sleep on his desk. I looked up at Hailey. Her desk was surrounded by people. A student in front whispered, “A set of La Mer skincare for five multiple-choice questions? That’s too expensive. Who knows if her inside info is real!” The student next to her nudged her, and she shut up in fear. I pretended not to see and continued with my practice test. Hailey was bold! She dared to sell exam questions. Wasn’t she afraid of being caught? And those students buying answers, if caught, their scores would be canceled. Unless… they wanted to use me as a scapegoat again! In that case, let’s blow this up! On the day of the exam, I was at home enjoying the AC and watermelon, while the class group chat exploded. They never expected the English exam to match Hailey’s predictions exactly! To get the answers for the next subject, parents visited Hailey with expensive gifts. The news was covering the exams on TV. Hailey was the first to walk out of the school. Facing reporters, she looked confident. “Thanks to three years of hard work, I thought today’s English exam was easy!” I bit into my ice cream and scoffed. Let’s see how long she can be proud! Soon, it was results day. Hailey livestreamed checking her scores. Seeing her scores were sealed (indicating a top ranking), she smiled shyly. Instantly, “School Beauty High School Valedictorian” trended. The next day, I went to school for paperwork, just as the honor roll was being posted. Hailey, fresh from an interview, tore down my photo. “Someone like Sophia doesn’t deserve Harvard!” I glared at her. “Hailey, watch your mouth! If you dare frame me, I’ll make you pay!” She glanced at me disdainfully, then said indignantly, “I just can’t stand people like you. The SAT is the fairest competition, but some people use their connections to cheat!” “Sophia, you know how you got your score!” Reporters swarmed like sharks smelling blood, thrusting microphones at her. “You don’t know? Her mom is on the question committee. Sophia had the answers long ago. Her score is dirty!” Hailey looked angrily at the camera, enunciating each word. “I am now formally reporting Sophia for cheating! I hope the authorities investigate her thoroughly and give millions of students a fair chance!” Reporters dropped their jaws. “What? All six subjects? She had all the answers!” “Cheating on the SATs? That ruins lives! Little girl, you’re bold!” A male reporter pushed his glasses. “Student, did you really cheat? Where did you get the answers? How did your mother get them? What do you have to say for yourself?” Instantly, all cameras pointed at me! The scene of being interrogated in my past life overlapped with this moment. I trembled uncontrollably. “You have no evidence. Why do you say I cheated?” “Oh, I have evidence! Solid evidence!” “Look, this is the paper where Sophia wrote down the answers!” Hailey pulled a piece of paper from her pocket and held it up to the camera. 4 The paper was covered in dense handwriting with answers for every subject. My mind buzzed. That was indeed my handwriting! But since my rebirth, all memories of the exam existed only in my mind. I never wrote them down. How did Hailey have this? Before I could think of a response, classmates arrived at the school, summoned by Hailey. Lucas stepped forward, standing first before the cameras. “I’m Sophia’s desk mate. She slept through classes all senior year and didn’t study at all. I absolutely don’t believe she could get into Harvard!” To prove it, he pulled out an old photo on his phone. In the photo, the whole class was listening attentively, except for me sleeping on the desk. “I can testify too! I’m the math rep. Sophia stopped handing in homework since senior year started. I reminded her daily, but she didn’t care, saying her admission was secured and she didn’t need to do homework. Her mom must have been planning to get her answers since then!” “Uncles and Aunties, this is our mock exam score. Sophia only got 300 points. How could someone with such scores be admitted to Harvard!” The classmates’ accusations were broadcast live. Netizens furiously commented. “There must be something fishy for someone like this to get into Harvard!” “Investigate! Must investigate! An exam committee member leaking questions, there must be a huge umbrella protecting them!” “She ruined others’ ten years of hard work. We small-town students have no hope left!” “Evidence is right there. How can she explain this? She should just die!” I gritted my teeth, staring stubbornly at Hailey. “That paper is fake. You’re all lying!” I slept in class because I had a high fever that day. I didn’t hand in homework because the math teacher allowed it. I missed the mock exam because I was participating in a math competition in the neighboring state! “This is clearly your handwriting. How can you prove it’s fake?” Hailey smirked. Relying on their numbers, they seemed sure I was speechless. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to calm down. I can’t lose my composure, or I’ll fall into her trap. “My mom is indeed on the committee. But she entered sequester in early March. You say my mom leaked questions to me, then tell me, how did we communicate!” The reporters finally realized something. “Right, committee members can’t have electronic devices and have no internet. How did the answers get out?” Hailey was stumped for a moment but reacted quickly. “Who knows how you communicated!” “Anyway, I have evidence. Reporting you is what any student should do. The rest is up to the investigators!” I looked at her and sneered. “But, I didn’t take the SATs at all!” “What did you say?” Hailey’s eyes widened in disbelief. “I was already admitted to Harvard early, so I didn’t take the SATs. There’s no way I cheated or leaked questions.” “Hailey Miller, accusing me and my mom without evidence is slander and defamation! I can sue you!” Hailey was shocked. She never calculated that I didn’t even take the exam. In my past life, when news of my early admission spread, she publicly shamed me for not being loyal and guilt-tripped me into giving up the admission to take the exam with them. After rebirth, I immediately contacted Harvard admissions. Thankfully, they gave me another chance and returned my application to withdraw.

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After the transfer student, Caleb, appeared, I started to slowly forget my childhood sweetheart. We became deskmates, running into each other in every corner of the city. My memories with my childhood sweetheart faded, the protagonist replaced by Caleb and me. Looking at him made my heart race and my temperature rise. It felt like we were destined to be together, guided by an invisible hand. 1 Caleb and I were locked in the equipment room again. He was the new transfer student, handsome with a rebellious edge, broad shoulders, and long legs. Rumor had it that when he accidentally lifted his shirt while playing basketball, revealing his eight-pack abs, he became the hot topic among all the girls in school. The teacher assigned him as my deskmate, explaining earnestly that since his grades were poor and I was number one, maybe I could help him improve. I neither agreed nor disagreed, but I didn’t object. We barely spoke after becoming deskmates. But for some reason, we kept running into each other after school. Everywhere, including but not limited to the supermarket, the bookstore, and now, the equipment room. And without fail, it was always pouring rain or a power outage—basically creating a “closed circle” scenario. Like now, I just came to return a badminton racket after evening study hall, yet somehow ended up locked inside with Caleb. The light fixture sizzled twice, then with a pop, the power cut out. It seemed to have blown a fuse. This was the third time this month. Even for coincidences, the probability was a bit too high. Caleb stood by the window, looking at the security bars, his voice nonchalant. “Looks like we can’t get out. We’re stuck here, Julia.” My phone was back in the classroom. The pitch-black room offered zero visibility, only the moonlight filtering in outlined vague shapes. From afar, I could hear laughter from the sports field. And the tick-tock, tick-tock of the clock hands turning. “Are you afraid of the dark?” In the lightless environment, the sound of heartbeats seemed amplified. Caleb seemed to move, his voice low. “There’s light here, come over.” I thought for a moment. “Do you have a lighter?” He chuckled lightly. “Aren’t you a good student? I brought cigarettes, but my lighter got confiscated today.” After a pause, he added, “Nicotine isn’t good for you, it just numbs emotions sometimes. You shouldn’t smoke.” His words carried a faint loneliness that invited exploration. Was his childhood tragic? Did he have a flawed family background? Question after question floated up in my mind like bubbles, or dominoes being toppled. He looked lonely; maybe I should comfort him, preferably with a hug. The dominoes were halfway down, feelings of pity just sprouting, when I frowned and pinched them off. This wasn’t right. This was strange. I looked at him confusedly, offering no extra explanation. “No lighter is fine, give me the cigarette pack.” I happened to have two AA batteries in my pocket, spares from the lab today that I didn’t use. Now they could be used to start a fire. Caleb handed me the pack. I deftly pulled out the foil paper, folded it, and tore it into the shape I needed. There was a pile of waste paper in the equipment room. I squatted down and pinched the foil to the ends of the battery. One second, two seconds— With a fizz, the foil ignited and fell onto the waste paper, sparking a bright flame. The room lit up, smoke billowed out the window, and the sprinkler system overhead kicked in, showering us with water. Exclamations came from outside the door; people were rushing over. When the equipment room door opened, the bright lights illuminated the stunned expression on Caleb’s face. I stood up and said politely, “Thanks for the cigarette pack. I’ll buy you a new one.” I wasn’t afraid of the dark, and of course, I didn’t smoke. But I had no intention of explaining any of this to Caleb. Identifying problems and solving them promptly—that was one of my life mottos. 2 Arson on school grounds, even for self-rescue, was dangerous behavior and warranted criticism. Honestly, if Caleb hadn’t insisted it was all him and had nothing to do with me, I would have been out sooner. He insisted on taking the fall for me. I tried to argue but couldn’t win, so I silently watched the dean give him a comprehensive lecture on “tough love.” Once Caleb left, the dean turned to me, his stormy expression instantly clearing up. He lectured me lightly, then coughed twice. “Going to the competition training camp soon, right? I never worry about your grades. But Julia, you look too thin. Don’t forget your health while studying. Let me know if you have any difficulties.” Unsurprisingly, I nodded. “Okay, thank you, sir.” Leaving the office, Leo was waiting for me at the door. He had beautiful eyes—double eyelids with slightly drooping corners, making him look gentle and harmless. When he wasn’t smiling, he seemed a bit cool, but when he smiled, he was completely disarming and reserved. We grew up together, and I had never seen him angry. Most of the time, he was smiling. I sometimes teased him about having a face that promised peace and prosperity. “I heard everything.” His voice was the same—gentle and clear, always full of patience. “Did you burn yourself starting the fire?” “Such a childish experiment, how could I mess up?” Seeing his familiar, handsome face, I relaxed a bit and proudly held up a number. “I have at least five other ways to start a fire.” Leo was silent for a few seconds. “That’s dangerous too. Is there a way to get out without fire?” I glanced at him. “Yes, waiting for you to find me, but that’s too slow.” We walked side by side out of the school. “It’s okay if it’s slow, safety is more important,” Leo handed me a bag of fresh food. “…By the way, that boy named Caleb was also waiting for you at the door just now.” The bag contained fresh walnut kernels he had peeled for me. Since I started competing, he worried about me overusing my brain and brought me nutritional supplements every day—sometimes homemade peanut milk, sometimes peeled walnuts. Every day, for ten years. Busy opening the bag for a late-night snack, I said indifferently, “Oh.” As for why he left or what he was waiting for, I didn’t care much. My social circle had always been narrow because I wasn’t interested. Socializing is utilitarian by nature. People who accept my personality and want to be friends usually want something—so if it was important, Caleb would tell me. “Julia.” Almost at my door, Leo paused. “Actually…” Before he could finish, click, the door opposite mine opened. “Julia?” A tall boy carrying a cardboard box just happened to open the door next to mine. He looked dusty, like he was moving. After a few seconds of surprise, he raised an eyebrow and smiled. “You live here too?” The air seemed to sprout a different aura. I looked at him quietly, fingers on my wrist, counting my heart rate. I knew my vital signs like the back of my hand, so I knew my heart was accelerating. Pulse racing, blood flow speeding up, uncontrollable heat radiating from my face, body temperature rising. In this midsummer night, faced with uncontrollable physiological reactions, my thoughts were incredibly clear. That strange feeling of being controlled by hormones appeared again. I hummed a “Yes.” Caleb chuckled lightly. “Looks like we’re neighbors starting today.” Analyzing the emotions in his pupils and the subtle changes in his face, I confirmed one thing again—he wasn’t lying. Like the numerous coincidences before, this wasn’t pre-planned by him. He knew nothing about it, at least in this aspect, just like me. After spending some time together, judging by my deskmate’s IQ, I didn’t think he had such good acting skills or would do something seemingly purposeless. “Quite a coincidence,” I paused. “The previous owner just decided to go abroad last month.” The decision to go abroad was also abrupt. The uncle who lived there had expressed satisfaction with his life here, but the day Caleb transferred, he suddenly sold the house through an agent, saying he wanted to explore the world. The neighbor uncle had always been a content layabout. Frankly, such a decision didn’t fit my impression of him. But people are changeable and complex. This strange event was discussed at our dinner table, and later dismissed with “life is always full of drama.” But combined with Caleb’s appearance today, things were heading in a weird direction. Maybe Caleb knew something about the uncle selling the house. “I just happened to like this apartment. Julia, feels like I keep running into you,” Caleb’s silhouette looked even more handsome in the dark. He seemed to glance ambiguously at the silent Leo beside me, then lowered his eyes to look at me again, his eyes and voice full of laughter. “Looks like we have quite the fate.” I lowered my eyes quietly, a feeling of “as expected” rising in my heart. Most coincidences in this world seemed explainable by “fate,” but in reality, they were intentional. As for who did it and how, it had nothing to do with ethereal luck. His train of thought was completely different from mine, or maybe he wasn’t thinking at all. I instantly lost the desire to discuss this coincidence with him. But it was no big deal. After all, most people I met couldn’t think on the same frequency as me. “Maybe,” I answered casually, politely saying goodbye. “Bye, Caleb.” “See you tomorrow, little deskmate.” Caleb’s eyes curved, revealing them to be very affectionate peach blossom eyes. But he didn’t leave. He just stood there looking at me, as if waiting for something. I unlocked the door, took my backpack from Leo, looked up into his beautiful clear eyes, and paused slightly. Leo had been quiet, not interrupting Caleb and me, not leaving early. He always watched me go inside before going upstairs to his own home. Nothing seemed to have changed, at least on the surface. But we had been childhood sweethearts for over a decade. I easily sensed something was wrong. Even just a tiny bit. So after 0.1 seconds of thought, I grabbed Leo’s wrist. “I want a fruit bowl.” Lied. I didn’t want one. Although Leo made everything delicious, and his desserts suited my taste. Leo paused, his gaze lingering on my fingertips holding him, his voice as gentle as ever. “Okay.” I pulled him inside. Before closing the door, I only had time to nod politely at Caleb. 3 My parents were rarely home due to work, so I was usually alone. I ate lunch and dinner at school, and on weekends, Leo took care of meals. I paid him according to his labor. He refused at first, but I always found a way to make him accept. After sunset, Leo rarely came to my house alone to be in a closed room with me. He always cared about these details and sternly warned me, “Don’t just stay alone in a closed room with others at night. What if they’re bad people?” I found it strange. “Are you ‘others’? Or are you a bad person?” He was silent for a few seconds, his voice gentle but firm. “Even me, not allowed.” Fine—it didn’t matter to me anyway. I wouldn’t let any boy other than him into my house at night. I nodded to show I listened. He relaxed, a familiar smile gradually filling his dark, gentle eyes. Leo was different from others. I had my own judgment standards. He was the only person with whom, despite our different thinking frequencies, I was willing to share my thoughts. Maybe because whatever I said, he would listen seriously. Like now. He was wearing gloves, pitting lychees for me in the kitchen. The snow-white, crystal-clear flesh was neatly stacked in a glass bowl, clean and translucent, looking excellent. “Caleb gives me a different feeling from others,” I said slowly. “It’s weird.” Was it a magnetic field, hormones, or some kind of drug? Leo stopped, thought for a few seconds. “What kind of weird?” I honestly told Leo about my strange reactions, like accelerated heartbeat, rising body temperature, and intrusive thoughts. Leo stopped talking and sighed slowly. His eyelashes were thick and black, the kind girls would envy. Those clear eyes held a bit of helplessness. Because he understood what I meant. He chose his words carefully. “Julia, if you study Caleb, you’ll use legal means, right?” Meanwhile, I was deep in thought. “Physical exams are coming up. I need to find a way to get a blood sample from Caleb.” Leo: “…” He silently divided a small bowl of lychees for me. I didn’t intend to continue the topic, as it would take some time to observe and confirm my hypothesis. I readily picked up a piece with a strawberry metal fork, biting into the fresh lychee flesh. The cool, sweet juice filled my mouth. I squinted in satisfaction, mumbling, “Of course, I can’t rule out pure coincidence, or the possibility that I’m just attracted to him.” Objectively speaking, Caleb could be considered a likeable boy. So even if there was a 0.01% chance, it was possible. I was a science student; I deeply understood the need for rigor in drawing conclusions. Leo’s movements paused imperceptibly, then he lowered his eyes. I finally confirmed my feeling wasn’t wrong. I looked at Leo with some surprise, thinking, He’s really unhappy. Second time tonight—even if just a little bit. So why was he unhappy? After all, most of the time, Leo’s emotions were as stable as a lake. But he didn’t give me a chance to ask. He put the semi-finished lychee jelly into the fridge and said gently, “I’ll help you finish it tomorrow.” I blinked. “My fruit bowl?” “If you don’t want to eat, don’t force yourself,” Leo took off his gloves and gave his conclusion calmly. “I’m going back. Sleep early, Julia.” After ten years together, he seemed to know everything about me. I said “Oh,” not denying his words. Instead, I casually forked the last piece of lychee in the bowl to his lips. Leo looked down at my fingers, seemingly freezing for two seconds, before carefully biting along the edge of the fruit. He avoided the strawberry fork and my hand. But that tiny bit of strange emotion had vanished. Watching the faint blush on his ears and his hasty turn, I said contentedly, “Goodnight.” “Goodnight.” Although I didn’t understand why he was unhappy, it didn’t matter. I was equally adept at making him happy. 4 I woke up before dawn. Getting dressed and ready to open the door, I hesitated for a moment. But soon, I turned the handle. Then, unsurprisingly, the same sound came from across the hall. Caleb was wearing a black T-shirt and shorts, hair messy, eyes foggy as if he hadn’t woken up. Seeing me, he paused. “Julia?” This encounter still showed no signs of deliberate planning. I had run into him too many times in the morning before, so today I purposely left two and a half hours early. 4:30 AM. This time absolutely didn’t fit Caleb’s normal schedule. But I still ran into him. “Why are you up so early?” He raised an eyebrow in surprise, then teased with a half-smile. “Is this how top students are?” Of course not. Even if I loved studying, I was human and needed sufficient sleep. How could I wake up at 4:30 every day? Today was just an accident. I answered with a question. “And you? Why are you up so early?” “I heard a kitten.” At the mention, Caleb frowned. “I’ve raised many cats. This one sounds injured.” He paused, then said, “I’m going down to look for it.” We lived on the second floor. I didn’t hear a cat, but he did. Of course, this didn’t prove anything. Maybe he was a light sleeper, left his window open, or the cat was closer to him. But either way, it was a bit far-fetched. So these coincidences might really be influenced by some supernatural factors. Having confirmed part of my hypothesis, I should have turned back and gone to sleep. But whether from reason or intuition, I couldn’t suppress the surging curiosity and desire for knowledge. If there really was a mysterious force urging Caleb and me to be alone together, I admitted, it succeeded. I was silent for a few seconds. “I’ll help you look.” “Okay.” Caleb agreed readily, but fished something out from his entryway. It was a bottle of mosquito repellent. His hand with distinct knuckles held the small green bottle, and he naturally squatted down. “Lots of mosquitoes now. Don’t get bitten.” I was wearing school-issued long pants, but having grown taller, the legs were a bit short, revealing a bit of ankle. The sprayed mist created a Tyndall effect in the dim hallway light. I looked down at Caleb, fingers on my wrist again. Heartbeat accelerated again. Caleb put back the repellent, turned on his phone flashlight, and casually instructed, “Your building stairs are steep. I’ll go first. Watch your step, don’t fall.” I took a step down, and my clear head suddenly felt a pang of pain. Blurry memories surged, frame by frame, scene by scene, all of the same person. It was a little boy. Every time before going out, he would spray mosquito repellent for me. When I got bitten, he would bring a small jar of light-colored balm, apply it to the red swelling, and sternly tell me not to scratch. “The more you scratch, the itchier it gets. If you break the skin, it’ll scar…” In the evening, we went to the park to see fireflies. He held a flashlight and stood in front of me, telling me to walk slowly. He was taller than me, back to me, backlit, I couldn’t see his face. But the moonlight was beautiful that day. The river shimmered like silver sand and satin, carrying lotus-shaped river lanterns one after another. The little boy sat beside me, his figure gradually, gradually merging with Caleb in front of me, becoming identical. I stopped in a daze. “What’s wrong?” Caleb turned to look at me. I stared at him, suddenly having a very subtle premonition. I stopped the moment I felt off-balance. If I continued, would I suddenly miss a step? Caleb in front of me might catch me, or I might knock him down—but we would inevitably have physical contact. My heartbeat would become irregular, body temperature rise, blood circulation accelerate, dopamine secretion increase, and my head would become even more muddled. I would ask him if he was that little boy from the past. Was it him? Was it really him? Childhood memories suddenly became so blurry to me. Where did I live? Was he my playmate? Did this memory really exist? Did I forget something? I pressed my temples, whispered I was fine, and continued downstairs silently. “Caleb.” The moment I stepped out of the stairwell, I asked him, “Did you catch fireflies in the past?” He didn’t look back, voice relaxed. “I lived here as a kid, right by the river. How could I not have done that?” “Is that so?” I didn’t press. But the next second, Caleb turned around, smiling at me with raised eyebrows. “Why, did you catch them too? Maybe we’ve met—I even helped a little girl catch them when I was small.” Click. All the clues fit together perfectly, flawlessly. This memory was like a pearl buried by long years—white, clean, crystal clear, tempting passersby to touch. Caleb pulled a kitten with an injured right hind leg from the low bushes. It looked like a stray, fur matted and dirty, original color unrecognizable. But its eyes were clear blue. It mewed weakly, leaning obediently against Caleb. Caleb held it in his arms without disdain, looking gentle, soothing it in a low voice. “Need to take it to the hospital,” he said. “Looks like it stepped in a trap. Needs a splint.” At this hour, most vet clinics were closed. But I happened to know an owner who would open. Another vague memory surfaced in my mind. A little boy and I holding a cat, walking urgently on the road, knocking on different clinic doors. Only one clinic opened. A young woman in a mask looked at us in surprise, then took the cat. The boy looked up, telling the doctor about the cat’s condition. His dirty hands were stained with the cat’s blood. The night breeze blew a strand of hair on the back of his head. His back was thin but straight. I looked up at Caleb in front of me. As if by some destined fate, his messy short hair was blown by the wind, his T-shirt billowing to reveal a lean figure, exactly like back then. Dawn was breaking. The morning glow plated his hair, his fingertips, his dark pupils with a shallow layer of gold, gentle and beautiful. My heart was suddenly soaked in an emotion that could be called warmth, wet. Perhaps in this moment, the look I gave Caleb was also wet. I thought: [He’s so good.] I thought: [I remember it all.] I thought: [So that’s how it was.] I thought: [I might be a little…] The pounding heart, rapid breathing, the summer night waiting side by side for dawn. No one wouldn’t be moved, right? Like a god whispering in my ear. But I took a step back, withdrawing from such warm emotions without hesitation. I thought: [Thief, liar, ridiculous, nonsense.] I thought: [Whatever is at work, stop it.] Caleb looked at me, a silent inquiry. I lowered my eyes, voice calm. “I’ll give you the number.” “Hmm?” “The owner of this vet clinic will open at this hour.” I moved quickly, taking a notepad and pen from my pocket, writing a number and handing it to him. “Just take the kitten there.” “You’re not coming with me?” Caleb sounded surprised. “I have things to do,” I turned without hesitation. “I’ll visit it later.” My mind was probably being controlled. It sounded incredible, but with so many unsolved mysteries, maybe a higher-dimensional force really existed. Besides certainty, I felt a long-lost anger.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387911”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Seven years after I vanished, my brother found me on an organ donation registry. He stared at the file in the nurse’s hands, his brow furrowed as he took in the photo and the name I used to go by. “Where is she?” “Palliative care, twelfth floor. Today’s the last day she’ll be lucid. The surgery is tomorrow.” His face a thundercloud, he stormed up to the twelfth floor. When he shoved the door open, he found me writing my last will and testament. “Vicky.” I looked up, a placid smile touching my lips. “You must have the wrong person, Mr. Miller. My name is Ava now. Not Vicky.” He stalked toward the bed, his voice rigid. “Come home. Apologize to Lily, and I’ll get you the best doctors money can buy.” “No, thank you,” I said, my voice quiet but firm. “I’ve done nothing wrong. I have nothing to apologize for.” Without looking up again, I signed the last letter of my name on the donation forms. … After a long, tense silence, he let out a cold laugh. “Still playing the victim. Seven years, and you still have that same innocent act down.” “You’re sick? What is it? Why the surgery?” I managed a small, tired smile. “Late-stage glioblastoma. I don’t have much time left.” “Rather than rotting in the ground, I figured my organs could save a few lives.” Graham’s expression flickered for a moment, a brief flash of something unreadable before his cold mask snapped back into place. “Spare me the act. You think playing the pity card will make me go soft on you?” His eyes swept over the bare, cheap room, a sneer twisting his lips. “Looks like life on your own didn’t treat you so well. If you hadn’t done what you did, you wouldn’t have ended up like this.” I glanced down at my own skeletal hands, saying nothing. “Vicky…” he said suddenly, his voice laced with a strange, struggling note. “Are you really that sick?” I met his gaze, my own eyes chillingly calm. “What’s it to you, Mr. Miller?” “I’m your brother!” “My brother’s sister died seven years ago.” His face turned ashen with fury, his eyes locked on mine. “You hate me that much? Don’t you remember what happened back then? It was your own…” “Enough,” I cut him off. “You didn’t come here to dredge up the past, did you, Graham? Whatever you want, just say it.” He opened his mouth, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. “Let me guess,” I said slowly, the realization dawning with a cold, sickening clarity. “She needs a liver, doesn’t she?” Graham didn’t answer. But the way his gaze darted away told me everything I needed to know. I leaned back against the pillows, a hollow laugh escaping my lips. “So that’s it.” “After seven years, she finally remembers her big sister.” “You’re here to ask for my liver for her, aren’t you?” “Not ask,” he corrected, his voice hard. “It’s what you should do. You volunteered the first time, and now Lily needs it again. You’re still her sister. It’s your responsibility.” The sheer absurdity of it all washed over me. “Graham, when you threw me out of the house seven years ago, did you think of me as her sister then?” “You brought that on yourself!” he shot back, his voice rising. “If you hadn’t done all those vicious things, framing Lily, why would I have ever kicked you out? You’re still lying, still playing the innocent victim. Did you think hiding for seven years would make me forget what you did?” I closed my eyes, my heart a dead weight in my chest. He never once doubted. He never once believed it wasn’t me. “Just go,” I whispered, exhausted. “I need to rest.” “Vicky!” He grabbed my shoulders, his grip like iron. “Listen to me! Lily needs your liver!” I opened my eyes and looked straight into his. “Then she’ll have to wait for a donor. My organs are already promised to strangers.” “You—” He was shaking with rage. “How can you be so heartless? Lily saved my life! Without her, the Miller family wouldn’t exist today! And you… you’re just an ungrateful viper!” I said nothing, simply turning my head to look out the window. “I’m going to make this very clear, Vicky,” he said, releasing me. His voice dropped to an icy whisper. “If you don’t save Lily, I won’t let you die. Not peacefully.” “I’ll use every resource the Miller family has to keep you alive. I’ll make you live a life so miserable, you’ll beg for death.” His threats landed on me like stones in a dead sea. Not a single ripple. “Do whatever you want.” He gave me one last, hard look before turning and storming out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him. I lay alone in the hospital bed as silent tears finally traced paths down my temples. My mind drifted back fourteen years. I was thirteen, and Graham was twenty-one. Our parents had died together in a car crash, leaving behind a massive family fortune and a horde of greedy relatives circling like vultures. Back then, Graham was like a wolf protecting his cub. He shielded me from everything, shouldering the entire weight of the world on his own. At the funeral, a drunken uncle pointed a finger at me, slurring, “You little curse! If it wasn’t for you, your parents would still be alive!” Graham laid him out with a single punch, leaving him bloody on the floor. “Anyone who touches a hair on my sister’s head,” he snarled, “will wish they were never born.” That night, he held me as I cried myself sick, whispering it over and over again. “It’s okay, Vicky. I’m here.” “I’ll always protect you, for the rest of my life.” And I believed him. I thought it would always be the two of us against the world. But when our half-sister, Lily, arrived, everything shattered. She was frail and sickly, so Graham gave her my room, the one with the best sunlight. She was a picky eater, so he took her out to fancy restaurants every night. She was afraid of sleeping alone, so he’d sit in her room until she drifted off. A month before my final exams, Lily was diagnosed with a rare liver disease. She was dying. Graham was frantic. He flew her to the best hospitals in the country, consulted with every top specialist. The doctors gave him two options: wait for a donor or find a living relative for a transplant. Waiting could take a year, maybe two. She didn’t have that long. For a living transplant, they needed a direct relative with a matching blood type. In the entire family, only I was a match. He came to talk to me while I was studying in my small, dim room. “Vicky,” he began, his voice softer than it had been in months. “You’ve heard about Lily, right?” I didn’t respond. “The doctors say your liver is the most compatible.” I turned a page in my textbook. “Vicky, she’s going to die,” his voice trembled. “Please. I’m begging you. Save her.” I finally looked up at him. “Graham, do you remember the last time I was sick?” He blinked, thrown. “I had a 104-degree fever. I was alone in my room for two days, and no one checked on me. Where were you? You were out shopping with Lily. Because she said she was feeling a little down.” He opened his mouth. “Vicky, I was wrong about that…” “And what about the time I was pushed down the stairs?” I cut him off. “I told you Lily did it. What did you say? You said I was clumsy and trying to blame her.” His face went pale. “Vicky…” “You want me to save her, Graham?” I stood up, facing him directly. “Fine.” “But after this, we’re even. I’m no longer a part of this family, and you are no longer my brother.” He flinched as if I’d struck him. “What are you saying?” “I’m saying I’ll donate part of my liver,” I said, my voice cold and steady. “But after it’s done, I’m leaving. And you will all act as if I’m dead.” He was silent for a long, heavy moment. Finally, he nodded. On the day of the surgery, as they wheeled me into the operating room, I saw him standing by the door. His lips moved, as if he wanted to say something. But in the end, he said nothing at all. The surgery was a success. Lily lived. I lost a third of my liver and never set foot in the Miller house again. That afternoon, Graham returned. This time, Lily was with him. After seven years, she had grown even more beautiful, her eyes still dark and luminous. Graham sat by my bed. “Vicky, Lily came to see you.” “Vicky,” Lily stepped forward, her eyes welling with tears. “I heard you were sick. I was so worried…” “Cut the act,” I snapped. “It’s just the three of us here. Who are you performing for?” Lily’s face went white, and a tear slipped down her cheek. “Why do you hate me so much, Vicky? What happened back then wasn’t my fault…” “Not your fault?” I scoffed. “Lily, you stole my login and posted those disgusting things about yourself in the class group chat. You cheated off my exam paper. You pushed me down the stairs. None of that was you?” “That’s enough!” Graham shot to his feet. “Vicky, it’s been seven years! Are you still telling those same lies?” “All the evidence pointed to you! When are you going to stop trying to frame Lily? You were jealous of her, jealous that she was better than you, so you made up all these stories to destroy her!” His words were like knives, each one twisting deeper into my heart. “Graham, are you so sure that I’m the one who’s lying?” “Aren’t you?” he retorted. “The teachers, the students… they all saw what you did back then. You were the one bullying her, you were the one consumed by jealousy!” I closed my eyes, too weary to fight anymore. It was useless. He would never believe me. “Vicky,” Lily moved closer, reaching for my hand. “I know you hate me. But when Graham told me you were sick, I was truly heartbroken… If you need money for treatment, I’ll give you all my savings…” I yanked my hand away. “Save your little theatrics, Lily!” I turned my gaze to Graham. “Alright, I know why you’re both here. But my answer is no. I’m not giving her my liver.” “I would rather give it to a complete stranger than save her a second time.” Graham’s face became a mask of cold fury. “Are you really that heartless, Vicky?” “Yes, I am,” I said, looking him dead in the eye. “Seven years ago, I gave her a third of my liver. And what did I get in return? You threw me out on the street! Now you come back asking for more? On what grounds?” “You deserved it!” “Fine,” I nodded slowly. “Then if she doesn’t get a transplant now, I guess she deserves that, too.” “After all, you reap what you sow.” Graham trembled with rage. He lunged forward and grabbed the collar of my hospital gown. “Don’t push me, Vicky!” “Or what?” I stared right back at him, unafraid. “Are you going to hit me? Kill me? I’m already dying. Go ahead.” His hand was shaking. After a moment, he released me, taking a deep, ragged breath. “Vicky, I’m asking you one last time. Will you save Lily?” “No.” “Fine,” he sneered. “Then don’t blame me for what comes next.” He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Do it. Just like we discussed.” A cold dread filled my stomach. “What are you doing?” “Nothing,” he said, pocketing his phone. “Since you’re so eager to donate your organs to strangers, I’ll just have to make sure those strangers never get them. I’m having the hospital cancel your donation request.” “And then,” he continued, his voice utterly devoid of emotion, “I’m going to use every resource the Miller family has to keep you alive. You’ll stay in this world, in agony, until you agree to save Lily.” My eyes widened in horror. “You’re insane!” “You drove me to this,” he said coldly. “You’re so selfish, Vicky. You’d rather let innocent people die than let go of your pathetic pride and resentment. You’re just as vicious as you were seven years ago.” With that, he took Lily by the arm and left. I lay in bed, my body shaking with helpless fury. That evening, a hospital administrator informed me that my organ donation surgery had been cancelled. “We received a report expressing concern over your mental state, suggesting you may not be fit to make this decision. We’ll need to conduct a new psychological evaluation, which could take at least a month.” The next morning, I was transferred. To the best private hospital in the state. My room was a VIP suite, and my new doctor was the nation’s leading neuro-oncologist. Graham stood in the middle of the opulent room, looking down at me. “You will cooperate with the treatment. After Lily’s surgery is done, you can live or die. I won’t care.” “Graham, this is kidnapping! It’s illegal!” “Call it whatever you want,” he shrugged, completely unconcerned. “I’m saving your life. Who’s going to argue with that?” “You’re a monster!” “You made me one.” He leaned over my bed, his face close to mine. “If you had just agreed, Vicky, none of this would have been necessary.” I stared into his eyes and saw nothing but a terrifying, obsessive madness. He would do exactly what he threatened. “Fine,” I closed my eyes, the fight draining out of me. “I’ll do it.” He froze. “What did you say?” “I said I’ll save her.” I opened my eyes, my gaze flat and empty as I looked at him. “But I have one condition.” “Name it.” “After the surgery, you leave me alone. You don’t interfere. You let me die how I choose.” He hesitated for a moment. “Fine. I agree.” The next day, they wheeled me into surgery. Graham stood by the door, his expression unreadable. “Vicky…” I didn’t look at him. I just closed my eyes. The surgery took four hours. It was a success. Another piece of my liver was placed inside Lily’s body. Afterward, I was moved to the ICU. Suddenly, a shrill alarm blared through the unit. “Patient is in cardiac arrest! Code Blue!” The heart monitor let out one long, continuous tone. My heart stopped. My soul felt light, drifting upward, out of my body. Through the glass wall of the ICU, I saw Graham. He was talking to a doctor, his face relaxed, relieved that Lily’s surgery had gone well. When a nurse rushed out to give him the news of my death, he just gave a short, dismissive “Okay,” his brow barely twitching. But just then, a commotion erupted down the hall. “Mr. Miller! Mr. Miller!” It was his assistant, breathless and frantic. “We found it! The truth about what happened seven years ago! All the evidence is right here!” The assistant held out a tablet. Graham took it, his expression shifting from confusion to disbelief, and then to bone-white horror as he scrolled through the contents. “No… it can’t be…” His head snapped up, his eyes flying to my lifeless body in the ICU. They were bloodshot, filled with a storm of shock, regret, and utter despair. On the tablet screen, the evidence stabbed into him, piece by piece. A security video, grainy but clear, showed Lily sneaking my phone out of my bag. It showed her typing furiously, her lips curled into a triumphant smirk, before carefully placing the phone back exactly where she found it. Another video, from the day of the exam. It showed Lily leaning over to look at my paper while I was in the restroom, then later “accidentally” telling the teacher how I’d stayed up all night and miraculously guessed all the key topics. But the worst was the footage from the stairwell.

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My roommate, Scarlet, claimed her skin was so delicate she could only wear silk. On the day of our physical fitness test, she “accidentally” spilled coffee into her closet. Scarlet cried frantically, “Waaah~ It’s all my fault for being so clumsy and ruining all my clothes! Do I really have to wear this silk nightgown to the fitness test? But I’m so embarrassed~” Unable to bear seeing Scarlet so anxious, I lent her the expensive silk sportswear I had just bought. Scarlet completed the test smoothly. Unexpectedly, a girl from the class next door went viral for wearing a nightgown to the test. Not only was she dubbed “The Most Beautiful College Student” online, but she also won the favor of the rich campus heartthrob. Scarlet was consumed by jealousy: “It’s all your fault, you bitch, for meddling! Otherwise, all of this would have been mine!” She heated a curling iron until it was scalding hot and branded every inch of my skin. I was tortured to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the fitness test. 1 I woke up screaming in agony, my body drenched in cold sweat. My fingers instinctively touched my arm. It should have been covered in hideous burn scars, but right now, it was as smooth as ever. “Sarah, you’re awake?” A sickeningly sweet voice came from the opposite bunk. Scarlet was applying makeup in front of the mirror, a steaming cup of coffee on her desk. “What’s wrong? You look terrible.” Scarlet turned around, tilting her head to look at me, her big eyes blinking, looking utterly harmless. “Nothing, just a bad dream.” I forced myself to calm down and started getting dressed and making my bed. Scarlet continued to hum and apply makeup, occasionally stealing glances at me through the mirror. I knew what she was waiting for. She was waiting for that carefully designed “accident.” Sure enough, as I prepared to go wash up, an exaggerated scream came from behind me. “Ah!” Scarlet “slipped” and knocked over her coffee cup. The dark brown liquid splashed precisely into her open closet. She frantically grabbed tissues to wipe it, only smearing the coffee stains even more. In my past life, I would have already rushed over to help her save her clothes. Now, I just watched her performance coldly. “Waaah~ It’s all my fault for being so clumsy! I ruined all my clothes!” Scarlet’s tears came instantly: “What should I do? Do I really have to wear this silk nightgown to the fitness test? But I’m so embarrassed~” The exact same lines as before, even the tone was identical. She tugged at the creamy white silk nightgown she was wearing. The neckline was just low enough to be both innocent and seductive. My other two roommates, Maya and Chloe, busied themselves with their own things. They had no intention of responding. Living together for six months, they had long seen through Scarlet’s “pick-me” nature. Only I, with my incredible denseness, had foolishly treated Scarlet as a best friend. Seeing I didn’t respond immediately, Scarlet cried even harder: “Sarah, why aren’t you saying anything? Boohoo… It’s all because my skin is too sensitive and I can only wear silk. Even if you lent me clothes, I couldn’t wear them. But if I wear a nightgown to the test, those gross guys will definitely stare at me. It’s so annoying!” 2 I looked at her hypocritical face, my stomach churning. Scarlet had put on a full face of makeup today, curled her hair, and even had an exquisite French manicure. Does this look like someone panicked over ruining their clothes? It was clearly a carefully planned performance. But in my past life, I was deceived by her pitiful act. I unhesitatingly took out the expensive designer silk sportswear I had just spent over three thousand dollars on and lent it to her. At the time, Scarlet’s expression stiffened, and she hesitated to take it. I naively thought she was still upset about her ruined clothes. I not only held her hand and comforted her for a long time but also offered to pay for dry cleaning all her stained clothes. Looking back now, Scarlet looked upset because I ruined her plan. After completing the fitness test in my sportswear, she turned around and bragged everywhere that she bought it herself. When she returned the clothes to me, there were several unremovable oil stains on them. On that same day, I went to the dry cleaners to pick up her clothes. Only to learn from the clerk that Scarlet’s clothes weren’t real silk at all, but cheap imitation silk. In other words, her so-called “delicate skin” was just a persona she created. But to protect her privacy, I didn’t say anything and pretended not to know. Ironically, a girl from the class next door happened to wear a nightgown to the test that day and accidentally went viral. Not only did she become an overnight sensation as “The Most Beautiful College Student,” but she also attracted the attention of the rich campus heartthrob. When Scarlet found out, she went mad with jealousy and vented all her anger on me. “It’s all your fault, you bitch, for meddling! Otherwise, all of this would have been mine!” She took advantage of the holidays when the other two roommates went home early, tied me to the bed in the middle of the night. She heated a curling iron until it was scalding hot and branded every inch of my skin, torturing me all night long. I screamed in agony, but she laughed maniacally. “Keep that bitch mouth shut in your next life! Now die!!” In the end, I was tortured to death in excruciating pain. Afterward, Scarlet staged the scene as an accidental fire. She not only got away scot-free but also received consolation money from the school. And I ended up with no remains. Hatred surged within me. I bit my lower lip hard until I tasted blood before letting go. In this life, I won’t help again. I will make her eat her own evil fruit and be doomed forever! 3 I feigned concern and asked, “So what do you plan to do?” Scarlet bit her lower lip, her eyes flickering: “Actually… wearing a nightgown isn’t impossible, it’s just a bit embarrassing… But for the test, I guess I have to endure it.” Hearing her pretentious answer, I almost laughed out loud. She bought this nightgown just last week; it’s hard not to suspect it was specially prepared for the fitness test. “Scarlet, actually, I think wearing a nightgown to the test is fine.” Scarlet was visibly stunned: “W-what?” I pretended to be sincere: “Look, your nightgown is silk, comfortable and breathable, perfect for exercise. And…” I paused and lowered my voice: “I heard Liam, the senior, will be supervising the test today!” At the mention of Liam’s name, Scarlet’s eyes visibly lit up. Liam was not only the president of the Student Union Sports Department and the recognized campus heartthrob, but his family was also a famous real estate developer in the city. Countless girls in school had a crush on him, and Scarlet was naturally no exception. “But… wouldn’t that be too flashy?” Scarlet was still pretending to hesitate. Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I continued to fan the flames: “How could it be? You’re so pretty, others will only envy you. Maybe Senior Liam will even notice you.” Scarlet pretended to lower her head shyly: “Oh, don’t say that~ Then I’ll go change my shoes, these slippers don’t match.” From the corner of my eye, I saw her change into a pair of delicate small heels. She casually picked up her perfume and sprayed it on herself a few times. Before leaving, Scarlet stood in front of the full-length mirror, carefully adjusting the neckline and hem of her nightgown. A triumphant smile hung on her lips, completely devoid of the panic and helplessness from earlier. “I’m leaving now~” Scarlet blew us a kiss and walked out, swaying her hips. As soon as she left, Maya immediately leaned over: “Sarah, why did you encourage her to wear that out today? That’s not like you.” I smiled faintly: “Do you think her spilling coffee today was a real accident?” Maya’s eyes widened: “You mean…?” I nodded and whispered, “She did it on purpose. Why should I spoil her fun?” Before leaving the dorm, I sent a message to the class gossip, Laura. “Big news at the fitness test field. Girl wearing a silk nightgown. Come quick.” Laura was a campus influencer with tens of thousands of followers and loved filming sensational videos. Didn’t Scarlet want to be famous? This time, I’ll grant her wish. 4 On the track field, Scarlet’s appearance indeed caused a sensation. She wore that silk nightgown, the hem fluttering as she walked, revealing her fair thighs. She pretended to be shy, lowering her head, but deliberately slowed her pace to ensure everyone noticed her. Boys glanced sideways frequently, while girls whispered. “Holy crap, is she here for a fitness test or a fashion show?” “Which class is she from? Wearing a nightgown to a fitness test, isn’t that too slutty?” “Those legs, damn!” Hearing the discussions, Scarlet pretended to be flustered on the surface, but her eyes scanned the crowd triumphantly. She enjoyed the attention, unaware that fate had begun to deviate from her envisioned track. Because I saw Laura already holding up her phone to record. The PE teacher was also attracted by the commotion and walked over with a dark face: “Student Scarlet! What are you wearing?” Scarlet put on an innocent look: “Teacher, I accidentally dirty my sportswear, so I can only wear this.” “Nonsense!” The teacher scolded sternly: “How can you test dressed like this? Go back and change!” “Teacher~” Scarlet started to act coquettish, her usual trick: “Just let it slide this once, I promise it won’t affect the test.” But the PE teacher was a serious middle-aged woman who despised this frivolous behavior: “Either go back and change, or be marked as absent!” Quite a few students had gathered to watch the drama, and some started snickering. Scarlet’s face turned red and white; clearly, she didn’t expect this situation. Just then, the crowd suddenly stirred. Liam walked over with a few Sports Department members. Scarlet’s eyes lit up. She immediately adjusted her posture, pulling down the nightgown strap slightly to reveal more skin. “Senior.” She called out delicately, her voice sweet enough to drip honey. Liam frowned and looked at her: “Student, please observe the fitness test discipline.” “I just…” Scarlet wanted to defend herself, but a loud voice interrupted her.

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