Category: English

I harbored a secret crush on Ethan for ten years, never daring to confess, until I was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. I tied him up and slept with him again and again. His eyes red with rage, he struggled: “Harper! Let me go if you dare.” I thought that once I let him go, he would furiously strangle me to death. Instead, he fiercely claimed every inch of my body, day and night without rest: “Harper, do I look weak to you? How dare you drug me?” 01 I had a crush on Ethan for ten years. From my teenage years into adulthood. He lived in the house right next door to mine. I watched him grow from a green youth into an increasingly mature man. I was completely mesmerized by the mature, masculine charm he exuded, but I never dared to say anything. I was afraid that if I spoke up, he would reject me, and then we would be over. That was until ten days ago when I fainted at work and was rushed to the hospital. The doctor looked at me with deep regret: “Terminal brain cancer. It’s too late. There’s no longer any medical value in treatment.” I couldn’t just die like this. I hadn’t traveled the world yet, and I hadn’t slept with Ethan… My mind was flooded with the dark romance novels I’d been reading recently—all about twisted, forced love. I was about to die anyway; was it so wrong to do something drastic? I called Ethan and invited him over for dinner. Ethan was the CEO of his own company and very busy. But he still agreed to come over later. When Ethan arrived, he looked travel-worn, wearing a long black coat. He brought a gust of cold air with him. Only then did I realize that he had been abroad when I called. He flew all day, came back, and walked straight into my trap. I felt a twinge of guilt. I tried to find an excuse to make him leave, but he walked straight to the dining table and sat down. Before I could say anything, he started helping himself to the food. I watched as he drank the Tom Yum soup—which I had heavily spiked. He even raised an eyebrow at me while drinking. “Haven’t seen you for a while. Your cooking has improved.” Of course, it had improved. Because that was takeout from the highest-rated Thai restaurant in the city. Why takeout? The reason was simple: I was afraid my cooking would be so bad he wouldn’t eat enough for the drug to take effect. By the time I went to the kitchen to grab a bowl and came back, his eyes were already starting to glaze over as he sat at the table. I bit my lip: “Are you tired? Do you want to rest?” He nodded: “A little dizzy.” “Then go rest for a bit.” We had known each other for years, so all defenses had long been dropped between us. He obediently followed me to the guest bedroom. 02 Ethan fell asleep. I struggled to take off his coat, then stared blankly at his torso faintly visible through his white dress shirt. I pursed my lips, feeling a bit panicked and my mouth going dry. But I still didn’t have the courage to completely undress him right then. I rummaged through my closet and found a pile of ties I had wanted to give him over the years but never had the nerve to. Today, they came in handy. I used the ties to bind his hands and feet directly to the bed frame. After laboriously finishing all that, I lost my strength and slumped onto the edge of the bed. Looking up, I saw his handsome, peacefully sleeping face. He was very calm right now. But I could imagine what kind of fury would erupt when he woke up. Just like the fury he showed that one time his mother suggested we should just get married. I stared at his face, not even bearing to blink. I kept thinking that in a few days, I would never be able to see him again, so I just wanted to look my fill all at once. I had been a kind, selfless person for over twenty years. In the end, I insisted on being selfish just this once. Even if he hated me, it didn’t matter. That way, when I died, he wouldn’t be sad at all. His phone in his coat pocket kept ringing; it was his assistant, Liam. Without much hesitation, and afraid of waking Ethan up, I answered it. “Ethan was too tired; he fell asleep after eating.” Liam tactfully hung up the phone. Gradually, my eyelids grew heavier and heavier. I simply crawled into bed, hugged Ethan’s waist tightly, and fell into a deep sleep. I was woken up in the middle of the night by Ethan’s roar. “Harper!” I shot up into a sitting position. The sudden movement made me dizzy; my vision went black, and I fell heavily back into Ethan’s chest. “Harper! What the hell are you doing?” What was I doing? I propped myself up on my elbows and looked at him in confusion. “Guess.” Ethan’s face grew even darker. I kneeled on the bed, looking down at him: “Since you’re awake, let’s get down to business.” Ethan frowned deeply, both arms trying to break free from their restraints. I panicked a little, terrified that if he actually escaped, all my efforts would be in vain. I squeezed my eyes shut and threw my whole body onto him. “Don’t move! Listen to me!” Ethan ground his teeth in hatred. “Are you crazy?” I lifted my head slightly; my face was no more than four inches from his. “I’m not crazy.” “Then what are you doing?” “I’ve got you in bed. What do you think I want to do?” Ethan’s pupils contracted sharply, the disgust on his face impossible to hide. “Harper! I am Ethan!” “Do you have any decency left as a woman?!” I didn’t want to hear his accusations, so I grabbed something soft from the nightstand and shoved it into his mouth. Ignoring his eyes that looked ready to spit fire, I glared at him fiercely. “Shut up!” Ethan tried to break free, but found it useless. My heart was pounding wildly in my chest. “I’m going to kiss you. Don’t interrupt me.” With that, I yanked the gag out of his mouth. Before he could speak, I closed my eyes and kissed him viciously. I clumsily pulled at his dress shirt; the buttons were ripped off one by one and scattered onto the floor. Like someone fleeing an apocalypse, I refused to stop, desperate to find an exit. I had a chest full of pent-up emotions, which I released bite by bite all over Ethan’s body, accompanied by his low grunts. I remembered something my friend Chloe once said: When a man is in bed, he only thinks with his lower half. Sure enough, amidst my somewhat aggressive actions, Ethan actually didn’t open his mouth to curse me. Just a continuous stream of grunts. Afterward, Ethan’s face was flushed, as if he had suffered a great humiliation. I couldn’t bear to look and put on my clothes, wanting to go to the bathroom to shower. Seeing me leaving, Ethan called out to me. “Harper!” I turned to look at him: “What?” His eyes were red with anger. “Let me go if you dare.” I was stunned for a second, then gave a nonchalant smile. “I’ll let you go, but not right now.” 03 After my shower, I originally wanted to go back to my own room. But I remembered Ethan’s eight-pack abs; they were so firm. So, I went back to the guest room. Ethan wasn’t asleep yet; he was staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. Like a frog waiting to be dissected in an experiment. Seeing me enter, he cursed through gritted teeth: “Let me go!” I shook my head: “No.” “Do you have no shame?!” “What exactly do you gain from doing this?” “Didn’t your mother teach you to have some self-respect?” He struck a nerve. On purpose. I pursed my lips and said nothing, just silently walked forward. I kicked off my slippers, got straight onto the bed, and straddled him. He frowned and was about to curse me again, but I reached out and covered his mouth. “Shut up and listen to me. “I’ve known you for eleven years and liked you for ten. I’ve thought about giving up, but I just can’t accept it. “I know you don’t like me. People say whoever loves more should take the initiative, so I’m taking the initiative. “I just want you, and struggling is useless!” With that, my eyes red, I lowered my head and kissed him. Ethan’s lips were thin and cool, like they tasted of mint. I was already exhausted, but I clearly felt a change somewhere on him. I lifted my head, looked at his face, and smiled. “Why pretend to be some pure, untouchable CEO? You’re just like any other guy!” The sounds Ethan made throughout the whole process made me blush, and… extremely satisfied. When I opened my eyes again, Ethan was already awake. But thankfully, his expression didn’t show that he had “suffered great humiliation.” Seeing me awake, his voice was raspy as he called my name. “Let me go.” “No.” He looked somewhat resigned and started trying a different approach. “Harper, what exactly is wrong with you? How long do you plan on keeping me tied up?” I counted on my fingers, then flashed a number at him. “7 days.” Ethan was completely speechless: “Why are you doing this?” “No reason,” I said calmly, throwing on my robe and getting out of bed. “I just insist on staying with you for a full seven days.” I thought Ethan would be angry, but he laughed. “This is illegal imprisonment. You know how many things I have to do every day, how many people will be looking for me. If I just disappear like this, do you think you can keep me here until the seventh day?” I stood by the bed, unable to move a single inch. It was true. He was a grown man. If he didn’t cooperate, how long could I actually keep him here? “Harper, untie me, and I promise I won’t leave.” I froze for two seconds, then stubbornly shook my head. “I don’t believe you.” “Harper, I have very important things to do. You can stay by my side, but you have to let me out.” Ethan thought I would definitely agree if he made a concession. But I refused without a second thought. I told him very stubbornly: “Until the police bring people to break down my door, you can only stay here.” Ethan knew it was a dead end. His dark eyes scanned me from head to toe several times. Finally, he unexpectedly compromised. “If you keep me tied up like this for seven days, my hands and feet will be ruined. Is that what you want?” “No.” “But I have no other choice. I can’t fight you off, and I can’t stop you, so I can only inconvenience you like this. Harper, I swear on my grandmother’s name, I won’t leave for seven days.” Grandma Vance. I knew how important she was to Ethan. I also knew she was genuinely good to me. When she passed away, Ethan and I hid in a corner and cried our hearts out together. That was the first time I ever saw Ethan cry. “You need me to cooperate, otherwise it’s highly likely your door will be forced open by this afternoon.” Ethan’s attitude was very sincere. I also knew he was telling the truth. The CEO of his company going missing—how could that not be a major incident? I wanted to keep him, but I didn’t want to leave a bad reputation behind after I died. I could guess with my toes how nasty and outrageous the media would make the story out to be. I compromised. I threw his clothes at him, then freed his hands and feet one by one. He gritted his teeth, flexing his stiff hands, and ruthlessly criticized: “I never realized before what a crazy woman you are.” I kept a straight face: “There’s a lot you never realized.” He stared at the messy pile of ties on the floor and turned to look at me in disbelief: “Where did you get all these ties?” “Whenever I saw one I thought would suit you, I bought it. I accumulated this many without even realizing it.” Well, at least I didn’t buy them for nothing; they finally found their use on him. “Why didn’t you just give them to me?” I sneered: “I don’t make a habit of chasing after someone who acts like I don’t exist.” Ethan’s face turned slightly cold. “So you just forced yourself on me?” I blushed from my face all the way down to my toes. When I was acting crazy, I didn’t care about the consequences. But now that I was calm and hearing him say it, I suddenly felt incredibly embarrassed. To get a man, I actually tied him up. But I quickly let it go, telling myself that doing something like this in my lifetime made it all worth it. 04 Ethan was a man of his word. After I untied him, he didn’t try to force his way out. He just asked for my laptop. “Are you going to email Liam for help?” Ethan looked at me like I was an idiot. “Is your brain not working right? If I wanted to leave, would I need to call someone for help?” My brain wasn’t just not working right; it was completely broken. I handed him the laptop. I had already quit my job anyway, so I didn’t need it. Ethan sat on the balcony handling his work, while I curled up on the living room sofa, quietly watching him. The sunlight poured in at what seemed like the perfect angle, giving me the illusion of a “peaceful, quiet life.” Except this “peacefulness” was something I had shamelessly kidnapped him for. The afternoon sun was glaring, and as I watched, I felt sleep creeping up on me. I tried hard to stay awake, but eventually lost consciousness. When I opened my eyes again, Ethan was nowhere to be seen. I jumped up, barefoot, and panicked, looking around wildly. Until I violently pushed open the bathroom door. My heart dropped back into my chest from my throat, but my sanity abandoned me the moment I saw him. I lunged at him. I had no experience, so I just bit and gnawed haphazardly, only wanting to leave marks. My heart felt like a lost deer, crashing wildly against my ribs. I clung to him like an octopus with all my might, terrified he would throw me off. In my daze, I heard Ethan’s helpless sigh, and then a strong arm scooped me up. “You’re an absolute lunatic, but I like it.” Like what? Before I could process it, he bit down on my neck, and then the tables were turned. I was starting to believe Chloe’s words more and more. In a man’s eyes, love and sex really are two completely different things. Afterward, the thick fog of lust faded, and Ethan leaned against the headboard, studying me. “Harper, I seriously suspect you’ve been possessed by some sort of demon.” Having known me for so many years, it wasn’t strange that Ethan had his doubts. After all, I was completely different from before. “Yeah,” I nodded seriously. “A sex demon.” Ethan narrowed his eyes: “Why doesn’t the sex demon go after someone else?” I tilted my head and thought about it: “Probably because you were the only easy prey around.” I grabbed my phone to order takeout, but Ethan stopped me. “What? You personally cook to lure me here, use me up, and now you’re brushing me off with takeout?” I couldn’t be bothered with him. Half an hour later, the takeout delivery knocked on my door. Ethan watched the yellow paper bag in my hand, his pupils contracting violently. When he saw me pull out a tiny box of pills from inside, he completely lost it. He rushed over and grabbed my chin. “Harper! What the hell are you doing? You’re taking this kind of stuff?” I struggled to speak: “You want me to give birth to an heir for you?” Fury covered Ethan’s face, even the tilt of his eyebrows expressing his rage. His fingers clamped down harder. “You dare to pull a stunt like this, but you’re afraid of having a baby?” “You’re hurting me!” I struggled to break free from his grip, but I knew he was genuinely angry. So I made up a reason that sounded plausible. “Of course I want to have your heir, but I just remembered I took a lot of antibiotics for a cold a couple of days ago.” I frowned at him: “What? Are you hoping I have a kid so you can use it to blackmail me?” Ethan looked away, his voice chilling. “In your dreams, you greedy woman.” “Ethan, you don’t usually act like this towards me! I forced you, sure, but if you hadn’t been willing, I wouldn’t have been able to force you anyway!” Ethan was angry, and I thought he would just turn and leave. But he just slammed the guest bedroom door shut with a loud bang. Heh, quite a man of his word. It made me feel a bit guilty. 05 In my school days, I saw Ethan as the ultimate nice guy. Gentle and polite, but also great at joking around. When his family moved into the house next door, my parents were going through a messy divorce. He watched as I was dumped in the big house, and then my parents never showed up again. I sat crying silently on my front porch, and he was the one who handed me tissues and milk candy. Later, he transferred to my school, same grade but different class. From the moment he arrived, he dominated the number one spot in the grade and never let it go. When I was first abandoned, I was depressed for a very long time. He was the one who brought me lunch from home during the day and came over to help me with homework at night. And later, he introduced his parents to me. Mrs. Vance and Mr. Vance were so good to me, often acting like my own parents. Especially Mrs. Vance; whenever we went shopping for clothes, she would always pick out things for me too, and have Ethan drop them off at my house. I felt incredibly embarrassed. But Mrs. Vance would always smile and pat my shoulder: “Don’t be silly, Harper. I’ve always wanted a daughter, and I just feel such a connection with you. When I see something that suits you, I just want to buy it for you.” When Ethan walked me home, he’d pat the top of my head and laugh: “My mom just likes you. Just accept whatever she gives you. We know you don’t lack money.” It was true. Regarding living expenses, those two so-called parents of mine never shortchanged me. It’s just that they both seemed to treat me as a projection of their failed marriage, so neither of them wanted to look at me ever again. The Vance family was like a warm ray of sunlight piercing through my darkest times. His parents loved me like their own child. I knew his family were genuinely good people. I also knew they felt sorry for me. But now, I had tied up their son. Did I feel guilty? I shook my head. Not at all. If he wasn’t willing, I couldn’t have done a thing. When I thought like that, I was crazy enough to be somewhat delusional. Ethan went into the guest room and didn’t come out all afternoon or evening. I looked at the table full of food, having no appetite. I knocked on Ethan’s door. “Dinner’s ready.” To my surprise, he opened the door and walked out after just a few seconds. He sat down at the table as if nothing had happened. But he remained silent, every pore radiating a “stay away from me” vibe. However, his mood didn’t affect me anymore. Besides buying the pill, I had also bought a bunch of condoms. Deadpan, I held out the different flavors for Ethan to choose from. Ethan lost it. “Are you really this desperate for me?” I nodded earnestly: “Probably.” He snatched a strawberry-flavored box from my hand and laid rigidly on the bed. Maybe it didn’t fit the mood perfectly. But a line of poetry suddenly popped into my head. “May you gather as much as you please.” I worked hard on Ethan, and his movements grew increasingly intense. In the end, he bit down on my ear. “Harper! I seriously want to kill you!” I didn’t have the energy to speak. But in my heart, I thought, You won’t have to lift a finger; you’ll get your wish soon enough. … After three days of this, Ethan’s energy remained normal. He could still handle company affairs remotely with great vigor during the day, and even found time to mock me. I, on the other hand, started feeling unwell all over. So, I kicked Ethan back to the guest room. Ethan leaned against the doorframe, looking at me with a half-smile: “Bored already?” I couldn’t be bothered with him, so I nodded: “Bored.” His response was another loud bang of the door.

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1 Five years. When the mental asylum doors finally swung open before me, I thought I’d be greeted by freedom and the warm embrace of my husband, Ryan Dudek. Instead, I was met by countless cameras, their lenses glinting with cold light, and a declaration that plunged me into an icy abyss: “Ms. Lynch, congratulations! This five-year mental asylum reality show has come to a perfect end!” A reality show? I hadn’t even processed the shock when Ryan, who should have been embracing me, appeared. His voice was calm, utterly devoid of emotion. “Noelle, all of this was Julianne’s idea. She orchestrated this program, and you, you were just the experimental subject I found for her, tasked with completing the recording.” So, this absurd charade had been streamed live, with three hundred million people participating in the voting. Julianne Lynch had, in turn, become a scorching hot, in-demand director. And me? For five years, I’d been subjected to electric shocks until my body convulsed, drooling uncontrollably, my mind often a fog. Ryan himself walked over and unlocked the handcuffs that had confined me for five years, saying with a detached tone, “The show’s over. Now, you can go home.” … The iron chains that had shackled me for five years were finally gone, but my legs felt like they were cast in lead. In my palm, I still clutched the last handwritten letter he’d given me, where he promised he could finally take me home. Now, that letter burned my skin. Ryan shook his head, a look of weary resignation on his face. “Those letters were also part of the experiment. It was Julianne’s idea, a way to test if you could survive on love alone.” “Looks like it worked pretty well.” Countless electric shocks. Now, there wasn’t a single patch of unmarred skin on my body. In the dark, windowless ward, I’d swallowed thousands of antidepressants. And the baby, a fully formed life, became deformed during a medical experiment, stillborn. The only thing that kept me going were his handwritten letters, which turned out to be mere props in an experiment. I touched my flat stomach, tears streaming down my face. “How could you be so heartless as to kill our baby?” When our eyes met, there was no guilt in Ryan’s gaze, only pride for Julianne. “That new drug was Julianne’s first commercial deal. No real pregnant women were willing to participate in the trial, so I could only sacrifice a child to help her achieve her dream.” “But you don’t need to be sad. At least you contributed to medical science.” Every nonchalant word he uttered felt like a stab to my heart. I looked around, then crawled towards him like a desperate dog, looking up. “What about Ethan? Why didn’t he come to pick me up?” The man recoiled sharply, as if he’d touched something filthy. But his words plunged me deeper into despair. “Ethan isn’t your child anymore.” Before I could react, the phone I’d just received suddenly rang. My son’s tender voice came through the line. “Are you really my mom? But I don’t want a crazy mom. I want a successful director mom like Aunt Julianne. Can’t you just… die?” Hearing my long-yearned-for son utter those words, I was so shocked my jaw hung open. My son impatiently hung up, and Ryan continued to explain. “Actually, this was also part of the experiment. For the show’s effect, I gave Ethan to Julianne as her son. We just wanted to air your reaction on the show.” Reporters rapidly clicked their shutters, frantically capturing the despair on my face. It was postpartum depression after giving birth to my son that led to me being taken to the asylum. That day, I cried my heart out. I worried my son would suffer without a mother. I worried Ryan would miss me. I had believed that today, we could finally be a family again, free from five years of nightmares. But on this very day, all my hopes dissolved into a colossal joke. “Ryan Dudek, let’s get a divorce.” Tears blurred my vision, and I could only hear my own hoarse voice. Ryan, who had been directing the reporters, finally looked up at me, frowning. Just as he was about to speak, his phone rang. Seeing the caller ID, he forced a smile as he answered. “Of course, the celebratory dinner is ready. I’ll be right back.” “I’ll transfer the money to her. You’re always the kindest.” Hanging up, he pulled a check from his pocket. “Take it. This is Julianne’s payment for your performance.” Seeing the amount, I laughed. Ten thousand dollars. The price for my five years in hell. I furiously tore the check to shreds and hurled the pieces at him. “I said, I want a divorce!” Ryan’s face instantly darkened. “If you divorce now, what about Julianne’s show? People will talk. Don’t be dramatic.” Instantly, my rage was doused with cold water. I gave a bitter laugh. Even the request for a divorce had to take a backseat to Julianne. Ryan slammed the door shut and left. I threw a cushion after him, like a truly deranged woman. Walking out of the asylum that had confined me for five years, I felt no joy of regained freedom. Seeing my hospital gown, taxis and passersby steered clear of me. In the city center, a giant screen played a promotional trailer for Julianne Lynch’ show. The woman in the sleek business suit was everywhere, alongside my own disheveled photos as a “featured guest.” I walked barefoot on the street, opening her social media feed. In these five years, she had become my son’s mother, my husband’s wife. They had visited Disneyland, the Eiffel Tower, ridden hot air balloons, and dived into the deep sea. They had explored every corner of the country and abroad. Ryan used to say he hated traveling. Every time I suggested it, he would pour cold water on my enthusiasm: “You’re not a child anymore. Where would I find the time to go gallivanting with you? Can’t you try to understand?” But he had not only gone with Julianne alone, he’d also taken tens of thousands of photos. Funny ones, playful ones, intimate ones, even some blurry ones were kept. Yet he hadn’t been willing to take even one wedding photo with me. Most glaringly, there was his support for Julianne’s career. He poured millions of dollars into paving her way, placing all resources into her hands. But he knew perfectly well that if I hadn’t been sent to the asylum, I would have become a renowned director by now. I self-destructively scrolled through countless times, my tears almost completely dried up. When I looked up again, I had walked home from memory. I tried the door lock code several times, but it always showed “incorrect input.” A bodyguard brutally kicked me aside. “Mr. Dudek said you’re not allowed in. The mistress of this house is Ms. Lynch. You’ll have to find somewhere else to stay!” He looked back, glaring at me with contempt. “Psycho.” I collapsed weakly on the ground, and through the glass, I saw the three of them—a happy family—sitting around the dinner table. This warm scene was exactly what I used to dream of. But now, the mistress of the house wasn’t me. Penniless, I huddled on the cold roadside for a night’s sleep. The next day, I returned to my company, only to be thrown out by my boss. “You dare show your face here again? What project would I trust a crazy person with? Mr. Dudek just gave the orders. If you know what’s good for you, get lost.” Thinking of my mother, still hospitalized, I felt close to losing my mind. “How dare he…” Before I could finish, Ryan’s call suddenly came through. “Noelle Lynch, you know Julianne spent five years on this reality show. Why would you ruin her work?!” I froze. “What are you talking about?” Ryan’s enraged voice was deafening. “Look at the big screen in the city center. These photos and rumors are all your doing, aren’t they? Are you not going to stop until you’ve completely destroyed her?!” I sharply looked up. On the large screen, a continuous loop of Julianne’s revealing photos played, alongside intimate pictures of her and Ryan. The furious voice on the phone grew more intense. “Go apologize to Julianne immediately. The breach of contract fees for the reality show, and your mother’s medical expenses—you can’t afford any of it!” As soon as the call ended, Julianne Lynch published a list of breach of contract fees and reputation damage compensation on her official website. She accused me of maliciously spreading her private photos and slandering her for breaking up my family. When the wall falls, everyone pushes it. The company that had just fired me also sent a legal letter, claiming I had damaged the company’s image and demanding compensation. Someone even leaked photos of me looking like a wraith in the asylum, solidifying the claims about my mental state. “Why is this crazy person out? Go die already!” “How can you trust what a psycho says? She’s just deliberately slandering Julianne Lynch!” … Faced with massive compensation demands and defamation, I couldn’t just sit back. I retaliated by posting an “apology video” online. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have allowed Julianne Lynch to take away my husband and child.” “I’m sorry, after being released from the asylum, I should have called the police immediately, instead of letting them turn on me.” The post went viral. Netizens began to question Ryan Dudek and Julianne Lynch’ relationship. Ryan called me repeatedly, but I hung up each time. Just when I thought everything was fine, my son cried in an interview: “Daddy and Aunt Julianne are just friends. My mom has always been crazy. She even said she wanted Aunt Julianne to die, boo-hoo…” Public opinion swung back again, and my phone was practically exploding. Legal letters flooded my phone. Seeing my own son accuse me, coupled with the astronomical compensation demands, my heart sank to rock bottom. Ryan called, his words laced with threats. “Julianne is being cyberbullied to the point of wanting to commit suicide. Do you have to drive her to her death before you’ll stop?” “Get over here and clarify, apologize!” I couldn’t believe it, shouting into the phone: “I haven’t done anything wrong, no way!” To my surprise, Ryan sent me my mother’s medical bill. Thousands of them. “Then you can try me!” Homeless, I wandered everywhere looking for a place to stay. But without exception, landlords slammed their doors in my face. “Who knows what a psycho like you might do? No landlord wants to take you in.” I tried to explain, “It’s all a misunderstanding…” “I saw all the videos online. Can a child lie? Still so stubborn.” The resounding slam of the door echoed heavily in my heart. I tried to borrow money everywhere, but was ruthlessly refused. “Sorry, sweetie, can’t do it.” “To be honest, Ryan told us not to lend you money. If it’s really that bad… maybe just apologize.” The hospital’s messages demanding payment for medical fees grew more urgent by the hour. An unprecedented wave of fear and exhaustion washed over me. I couldn’t hold on any longer. When he saw me, Ryan smiled knowingly. “I knew you’d come around. After this, I’ll take care of all your expenses.” I gave a weak, bitter laugh. Just as I was about to bow to Julianne, Ryan’s cold voice cut me off. “It’s gone too far. A simple apology won’t do anymore.” He pointed to the shirtless men around us and the dozens of cameras. “You cooperate with Julianne and film an R-rated movie. Then this matter will be over.” I looked up in shock, only to hear him continue nonchalantly: “There’s no high or low art. Hurry up and take off your clothes.” My eyes blazed red. “You want me to take off my clothes in front of cameras?” The man who once wouldn’t even let me wear a dress now felt like a complete stranger. Ryan didn’t answer my question, instead impatiently motioning for them to start the recording equipment. I struggled wildly, almost to the point of exhaustion: “It really wasn’t me! Let me go!” But Ryan refused to listen to another word, ordering his bodyguards to drag me onto the set. Julianne, as the director, followed them in. The moment the door closed, her face twisted into a snarl. “How does it feel to be betrayed by both your husband and son?” “Remember, I worked hard to get them, father and son. There’s no way I’m letting you take them back so easily!” Before I could react, she called a bank manager right in front of me: “Freeze the card used for medical expenses immediately!” What followed was a death certificate from the hospital. My heart plummeted completely. “Give me back my mother!” In that moment, I broke free from the bodyguards and lunged, my hands clamped tightly around her throat. “Noelle Lynch, you’re crazy!” Ryan burst in just then, seeing the scene, and shoved me away without holding back. Julianne cried, her face stained with tears: “Ryan, darling, if you hadn’t come in time, Noelle really would have choked me to death. She said I wasn’t fit to be Ethan’s mom…” Ryan’s sharp gaze fell on me, his face terrifyingly grim. “Acting like this in front of so many cameras, do you even care about being Mrs. Dudek anymore?!” I let out a sudden, bitter laugh. “She killed my mom! What else do I have to care about?!” Ryan froze, gritting his teeth. “Using your mother as a shield? You really are something!” “Since you don’t care about anything, then finish filming this movie, and I’ll make you famous!” He scoffed, taking Julianne with him as he left. The next second, the shirtless men closed in on me, frantically tearing off my clothes in front of the cameras. By now, I had no strength left to struggle. My vision swam with black spots, every part of me ached. I was thrown onto the ground like a dog with no dignity, blood gushing from beneath me. That night, Ryan spent a fortune buying trending topics, making the entire ordeal public. Julianne Lynch, as the rising director, received an award at the ceremony for her edited work. Below the stage, my son sat in his chair, eagerly awaiting. “Daddy, didn’t you say Mommy would be here?” Ryan impatiently glanced at his watch, about to make a call. Just then, his assistant rushed in, frantically waving his phone. “Mr. Dudek, bad news! Mrs. Dudek just livestreamed herself taking sleeping pills to commit suicide!”

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On the day I was diagnosed with stomach cancer, his childhood friend announced her pregnancy on Facebook. Ethan rushed home and signed the divorce papers, but he threw my diagnosis report on the floor with disdain. “Sophia, don’t you think this pathetic attempt to win me back is a bit unnecessary?” 01 Ethan saw the divorce papers I had prepared, and at the same time, he saw my diagnosis report. “Sophia, stop using these pathetic tricks.” Ethan casually tossed the paper on the floor. “I’ve been using you all along. My love for you was all fake.” “I know,” I replied softly, my stomach cramping in pain. I had known since the day he testified against my father in court, since his childhood friend, Chloe, told me it was my father who had ruined their families. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. Just pretend you didn’t see it.” I carefully put my diagnosis report away and handed him a pen. “Asking for a few million in the divorce settlement shouldn’t be too much for Mr. Vance, right?” I couldn’t defend my father’s actions. But Ethan had lied to me for ten years; that had to be worth something. When I went to visit my dad in prison, he looked incredibly haggard. He said, “Sophie, don’t blame Ethan. It was all my greed back then. You two live a good life together, and just remember to visit me often.” Fighting back a sob, I forced my tears down. I said, “Okay.” I had promised my dad I would live a good life. I was going to get treatment, survive, and strive to outlive him. Ethan’s cold sneer pulled me back from my memories. “A few million? Is that enough to pay off his debts?” Ethan flipped open the agreement and read it carefully. “Should I have my lawyer revise this?” Every word hit my heart like a block of ice. “My father wronged you, and he wronged many people. I know that. But you don’t have to pay for it.” My hand holding the paper curled up, wrinkling the edge, my sweaty palm slowly dampening it. “This money buys my ten years. It’s enough.” “Fine.” Ethan nodded, his jaw clenched, his eyes terrifyingly cold. He had disguised himself perfectly for ten years. In front of me, he let me throw tantrums and vent my emotions on him. He had always been careful to protect my feelings, his expression as gentle as day one for ten years straight. This was the first time I had ever seen him angry. The veins on the back of his hand bulged, and the pen looked like it was going to snap in half. Ethan signed quickly. His handwriting was a bit messy due to his haste, and every stroke was so forceful it seemed to tear through the paper. “My dad bought this house for us as a wedding gift. I plan to sell it to pay off some of his debts. I’ve already packed your things; they’re in those big boxes. The things you gave me are in there too.” As I spoke, I subconsciously looked down and noticed a small patch of skin on my ring finger that was a different shade—where my wedding ring used to be. When Ethan proposed, he told me that if I put it on, I would be tied to him for a lifetime. I had cried and replied that a lifetime was too short; I wanted the next life too. But there were no two lifetimes, not even one. We only had ten years. To me, those ten years felt fleeting, but for Ethan, every day must have felt like a year. “You…” I interrupted him: “You packed so fast. Why did you always pretend to be so scatterbrained before?” A sentence can have completely different meanings depending on the tone, and Ethan’s was clearly sarcastic. I used to be very scatterbrained, and Ethan always kept the house perfectly organized. My lips curled up slightly: “It’s not fast. It’s been two months since my dad was sent to prison, Mr. Vance.” He hadn’t been home for two months, but I could see his updates on Chloe’s Facebook. I knew Chloe posted them deliberately for me to see. As for why we were Facebook friends… it was because she was Ethan’s secretary. Three years after Ethan started his company, she barged into our lives. She pretended to be my good friend, sending me dozens of messages every day, sharing details of Ethan’s life at work, making me completely drop my guard around her. Little did I know, it was all exactly what she wanted me to see. Ethan’s pupils contracted, and he pursed his lips in silence. “When it comes to pretending, Mr. Vance is clearly the master.” I forced the corners of my mouth up, refusing to let my tears fall. Ethan’s tall figure loomed over me, and the smell of nicotine instantly flooded my nose. “Pregnant women shouldn’t be exposed to secondhand smoke. Think about Chloe and smoke less.” I placed my hands on his chest and pushed him away. Chloe’s latest Facebook post was a picture of a positive pregnancy test. At that time, I was holding the freshly printed divorce agreement. The paper was warm, but my hands and feet were ice cold. I guess I should have ‘liked’ it. Ethan hadn’t expected my push and stumbled back two steps before catching his balance. A flash of shock crossed his eyes, but he quickly returned to his cold demeanor. “Didn’t you say you were selling the house? I’ll offer 10% above market value. Sell it to me, and you leave.” As soon as he finished, I was the one in shock. I didn’t understand why Ethan was being so spiteful. Maybe he just had too much money and nowhere to spend it. I had no reason to turn down money, so I nodded. “But before the contract is finalized, I’d like you to move out first.” “I’ll call my lawyer right now to draft the purchase agreement. I’ll wire you the money together, and you move out.” Ethan was inexplicably acting like a petulant child, his jaw clenched tight, emphasizing the words “you move out.” His anger was his business, but this arrangement suited me perfectly. I nodded again: “Arrange it however you like. I have an appointment this afternoon.” With that, I went into the bedroom to pack my own things. There wasn’t much left. After removing what I gave Ethan and what he gave me, and considering I was in a rush to leave, I had already purged my belongings once. The moment I closed my suitcase, the purchase agreement was sent over. The moment I signed, I caught sight of my relieved smile in the mirror. I looked up and met Ethan’s eyes, startled by his dark, brooding face. On a whim, I said to him, “Pleasure doing business with you.” As I was leaving, a large box flew past me and landed in the trash can in the hallway. The loud crash startled me. Before I could recover, another box flew into the trash. I didn’t need to look back to know it was Ethan. He was throwing away the trash. One box was the things he gave me; the other, the things I gave him. When I regained my composure, I didn’t look back and stepped into the elevator. Strangely, until the elevator doors closed, I didn’t hear the sound of his door shutting behind me. 02 Ethan’s money arrived very quickly. It seemed he was even more eager to end this relationship than I was. But surprisingly, we ran into each other that very afternoon, in the hospital’s obstetrics and gynecology department. The child of one of the victims from years ago had just been born. Due to a breech presentation, they faced exorbitant medical bills. I wanted to help them. Of course, I also hoped they might put in a good word for my dad. The woman’s husband said she refused to see me. He also said that since she had just given birth, her emotions were unstable, and he asked me never to appear before them again. Dejected, I left the maternity ward, only to bump straight into a couple: Ethan and Chloe. Their shock at seeing me was equal to mine. I had no desire to humiliate myself, so I pretended not to see them and quickened my pace to walk past. As we brushed past each other, my wrist was suddenly grabbed. A large, slightly damp palm clamped down on me. My forward momentum was halted, and my heart gave a sharp jolt. Terrified, I looked up into Ethan’s bloodshot eyes. The smell of nicotine on him was even stronger than this morning, making me dizzy. Just how heavy of a smoker was he? I couldn’t stand the smell of smoke. When I was little, my dad would only smoke in the bathroom when the craving hit him. But in the ten years I was with Ethan, not once did I taste even a hint of nicotine bitterness, not even when we kissed. He truly had incredible endurance. He must have suffered a lot over these ten years. The pain in my wrist quickly made me discard my inner self-mockery. Ethan’s voice dropped near my ear: “Why are you here?” I looked up into his eyes, which seemed to be desperately suppressing some intense emotion. But right now, besides awkwardness, I only felt confused. “Our marriage is over. I don’t need to report my schedule to you.” I didn’t want to show my vulnerability to Ethan and Chloe. My grip on my handbag tightened, my nails digging into my palms. “Are you pregnant?” Ethan took a step closer, suddenly closing the distance between us. Hot breath laced with nicotine washed over me. Chloe, standing nearby, widened her eyes and bit her lip resentfully. I let out a silent laugh and looked down, prying Ethan’s fingers off one by one. “Mr. Vance is overthinking things. Your protection was always very thorough.” A few years ago, I did want a child. But every time I brought it up with Ethan, he would always say his company was just starting out, and if we had a baby too early, he was afraid he wouldn’t have time to spend with them. I thought about how my dad frequently missed my school events because of work, and felt Ethan made a valid point. After a few times, I let it go. So, I hadn’t brought it up in years, only hoping his company would stabilize soon. If he had a child with me, he would be tied to that child for the rest of his life. And that child would be a permanent barrier between him and Chloe. Those excuses were just meant to stall me. He had been with Chloe for two months, and she was already pregnant. It clearly showed it wasn’t about fearing a lack of a father’s presence, but about not wanting a child with me. As soon as I finished speaking, a crack appeared in Ethan’s expression. “Sophia, don’t lie to me,” he said through gritted teeth. “I have no reason to lie to you.” The strong smell of nicotine made me frown slightly, and I took two steps back to widen the gap between us. Chloe watched Ethan, her face gradually darkening. “Then why are you at the obstetrics department?” he asked again, pointing at the large sign above the department door. Only then did I notice he was still wearing the watch I had given him. It was my birthday gift to him the year we got married. But I had clearly packed this watch into the box, the very box Ethan had thrown into the trash that morning. So I leaned toward another possibility: I must have seen wrong. “One of the victims is here. I came to visit. Is Mr. Vance satisfied with that answer?” I didn’t understand why Ethan kept pressing me, insisting I tear open my scars for him to see. But I knew that if I didn’t explain clearly today, I might not be able to leave. Neither Ethan nor Chloe would allow for the possibility of my pregnancy. I forced back the welling tears and made myself flash a strained smile. This time, they didn’t stop me from leaving. 03 Three days later, after visiting some of the families harmed by my father, I returned to the hospital for a follow-up. “Your condition is in the intermediate stage right now. As long as you receive active treatment, the chances of a cure are very high.” The doctor was a man around my age named Liam. For some reason, his name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t remember where I had heard it. My stomach started cramping again. As I stood up, my feet felt like they were stepping on cotton—powerless. I felt a bit dizzy, and by the time I came to, he was holding my arm, steadying me. “You look terrible,” Liam said. “I recommend you get admitted as soon as possible.” “Give me a little more time. I still have some things to do.” I wanted to finish visiting all the victims’ families, hoping to make amends for my dad, and I wanted to wait until his sentencing was announced before I was admitted. “Sophia, don’t be stubborn. While there is life, there is hope.” This was the first time Liam had used my first name directly, and I was slightly taken aback. I met his serious gaze, then quickly lowered my head and looked away. “Give me a few more days. I want to wait for my dad’s sentence.” Those few short words drained all the strength from my body. After a long pause, Liam replied, “Okay.” “I’m off the clock too. Where do you live? I’ll give you a ride.” Before I could speak, Liam offered. “It’s fine…” I waved my hand weakly. “I can go back myself…” “With your current condition, how can you go home alone?” Liam sighed. “Ms. Miller, I don’t want you joking around with your life.” He spoke very seriously, like a teacher scolding a bad student. Helpless, I could only nod. Since coming to the hospital for check-ups, I had seen Liam a few times. We didn’t have much to talk about, and the ride was silent. Until… He parked his car in the underground garage of my rented apartment. The moment I stepped out, headlights from the opposite car flashed directly at me, blinding me for a few seconds. When my vision cleared, I saw it was Ethan’s car. He was suddenly right in front of us. With a loud thud, Liam was knocked to the ground, a glaring smear of blood on the corner of his mouth. My mind was in chaos. I had no idea why Ethan suddenly appeared here, nor why he hit Liam. I quickly shoved Ethan away and helped Liam up. “What are you doing?” Ethan’s eyes looked murderous, a dark, hostile aura filling his pupils. “What are you doing?” he pointed at Liam. This time, I saw the watch on his wrist clearly. The strap was engraved with his initials, ‘EV’. It was definitely the one I gave him. “Bringing another man home the very day of our divorce. Sophia, if you commit adultery, I think our divorce agreement should be void.” Ethan’s words carried a gritted-teeth intensity. Liam warily tried to shield me behind him. Seeing this, Ethan raised an eyebrow and reached out to grab me first. With a cold sneer, I raised my hand and slapped him. The crisp sound echoed through the underground garage, and Ethan’s cheek quickly swelled. He slowly turned his head back, clearly caught off guard by my slap. “Ethan, have you lost your mind?!” My palm stung fiercely. The recoil kept my hand hovering in the air, trembling slightly. “That child in Chloe’s belly is yours, isn’t it? After all these years at the company, you know perfectly well what you two did behind my back! If we’re really going to calculate who cheated first, you’re the one who should be leaving with nothing!” My face felt like it was burning. I realized I was screaming, tears uncontrollably streaming down my face. I looked pathetic. And it was all in front of Liam, an outsider. To my surprise, Ethan actually laughed after hearing this. “What if I told you that Chloe and I have never been intimate, and when she went to the hospital for a check-up today, she told me the positive pregnancy test in the photo wasn’t hers?” Ethan’s gaze shifted to Liam, and he leaned in closer. “What about you?” Ethan’s words were like a bombshell, completely overturning all my previous certainties and leaving me at a loss. I didn’t understand why he was acting like this. One moment he agreed to the divorce, throwing away everything that held our memories, and the next, he appeared before me in a rage, questioning my relationship with Liam. “Are you alright, Mr. Vance?” Liam spoke before I could. He wiped the blood from his mouth with a tissue. “I think you’ve misunderstood. Ms. Miller and I are strictly doctor and patient. Given her current health, I didn’t feel comfortable letting her drive home alone, so I offered to give her a ride. “I also hope Mr. Vance can manage his emotions and think before acting. Since you’re already divorced, there’s no need to harass her. If you’re trying to reconcile, don’t use such an aggressive approach.” Liam finished and exchanged a glance with me. “Ms. Miller, remember to get admitted on time and take care of yourself. Goodbye.” I nodded at him, full of guilt. “About today… I’m really sorry.” He gave a small smile. “Don’t blame yourself.” Ethan seemed lost in Liam’s words, unable to snap out of it for a long time. I couldn’t be bothered to deal with him anymore and headed straight for the elevator entrance. Hurried footsteps sounded behind me: “Sophia, that report… is it real?” Ethan caught up with me and pulled the door shut just as I had opened it. I looked up, meeting his somewhat vacant eyes. “Does it have anything to do with you? Wasn’t your goal to ‘catch me in the act’ so I’d leave with nothing?” Just like that morning, Ethan still refused to believe the report. But before it was disdain; now, it was denial. “Sophia, it’s not like that…” He scratched the back of his head in frustration, then suddenly grabbed both my hands as if he remembered something. “The reason I came is because Andrew told me just now that he’s selling all his shares. He also told me that the person who initially invested was actually you.” He looked at me, his eyes full of remorse and helplessness. “Why?” he asked. “Because I loved you.” When you like someone, it’s just like that. You only want them to be happy, you don’t want to see them defeated by difficulties, you don’t want to see them sad or dejected. So back then, I took out all my savings and asked Andrew to put on an act for me. I knew Ethan’s pride, so I never planned to tell him the truth. Even when I needed to sell the shares to pay off my dad’s debts, I didn’t let Andrew reveal the truth. I didn’t expect Ethan to find out anyway. “I said loved, Mr. Vance. Don’t misunderstand.” I tried to pull my hands away, but his grip only tightened. “And now?” he asked, the anger surrounding him instantly turning into an obsession. “Now, I don’t love you anymore.” Since he never loved me, why should I keep loving him? Ethan’s eyes flickered, as if stung by something, a faint shimmer in the corners of his eyes. “Why…” “You clearly loved me so much. Why divorce me just like that?” He grabbed my hands and pulled me into his arms, the strong smell of nicotine enveloping me. 04 “Ethan, don’t you find yourself ridiculous?” Unable to bear it any longer, I kneed him hard. He groaned and bent over, but his hands still held on tight. “Sophia, can we start over?” He looked up, tear streaks faintly reflecting the light. “You had plenty of chances to say that. From the time my dad was arrested until you testified against him, for two whole months, you were all lovey-dovey with Chloe, yet you wouldn’t even give me an explanation. Do you think we can start over?” “I only think of Chloe as a sister,” he said, sounding weak and pale. “But she never saw you as a brother. Every single one of her Facebook posts is proof of that,” I retorted. “I didn’t know about those posts.” “I don’t care. Ethan, what’s done is done. Let’s just end it here and leave each other with a shred of dignity.” “Sophia, for the past two months, I’ve been thinking… thinking about how to win you back… Signing the divorce papers was me acting out of spite. I never thought you could be so heartless…” Before he could finish, a phone rang, and my hands were finally released. Ethan pulled out his phone. The screen flashed “Chloe.” One second he was giving a deeply emotional explanation, the next he didn’t hesitate to answer Chloe’s call. I really couldn’t tell which of Ethan’s words were true and which were lies. “Chloe, I’m dealing with something urgent right now…” “What?” “I’m coming right now. Don’t do anything stupid!” Watching Ethan’s brow furrow into a deep scowl as he swiftly stood up. So even deep affection has two faces. I sneered inwardly. Free from Ethan, I couldn’t be bothered to engage with him anymore. I quickly scanned my face to open the door and got into the elevator. It wasn’t until the “ding” sounded that my heart finally settled. But my phone vibrated restlessly. I picked it up to see a text from Ethan: “I’ll come pick you up tomorrow morning. Wait for me.” I let out a silent, cold laugh and blocked his number. That very night, I admitted myself into the hospital. Partly to hide from Ethan, and partly because Liam had discussed it with me and strongly advised early admission. If I needed to leave, he would approve it based on my condition. But the truly ridiculous part was that the person waiting for me the next day wasn’t Ethan, but Chloe. I agreed to see Chloe because she said Ethan sent her to handle the transfer of the house’s ownership with me. But the first thing she said to me was: “Sorry, I was feeling down last night, so Ethan came to keep me company.” She was dressed to the nines, flawless from head to toe, her eyes brimming with smugness. But the dark circles under her eyes, barely concealed by foundation, couldn’t lie. Perhaps those dark circles represent other unspeakable secrets? I mocked myself inwardly for overthinking. “It’s fine. I should be thanking you for getting me out of a tight spot.” My calm response made her smile falter. She dispensed with the pleasantries and got straight to the point: “Sophia, even if my pregnancy was a lie, the person Ethan cares about most will always be me. Don’t think you can win his heart back by secretly getting pregnant!” With a smack, she threw a card at me. “There’s five million in here. Get rid of the child in your belly. If your dad manages to make it out alive, this money will be enough for him to live out his old age.” Unaware of how ridiculous she sounded, she looked at me with haughty arrogance. So, Ethan was telling the truth. Chloe wasn’t pregnant. But from her words, it was clear Ethan tolerated her behavior. “As for the PIN—” Chloe’s voice snapped me back to reality, a malicious smile forming on her lips. “It’s 180907.” “That’s the day Ethan flew tens of thousands of miles just to save me.” September 7, 2018, was the day Ethan changed his flight to end our honeymoon early. His excuse back then was a sudden emergency at the company that required his immediate attention. Maybe Ethan was such a good actor back then that I never felt insecure. Or maybe I trusted Chloe too much and never overthought it. I remember at my wedding, Chloe was my bridesmaid, and I personally handed my bouquet to her. “I hope you find your own happiness soon.” I had said it sincerely. At the time, Chloe’s eyes filled with tears, and as she took the bouquet, she broke down crying. I thought she was crying tears of joy for me, but looking back, seeing the man she loved forced to marry someone else must have been devastatingly sad. During the honeymoon, Chloe had been contacting Ethan intermittently. Ethan would always step away to take the calls. Because I trusted him completely, I didn’t bother paying attention. The last time, Chloe’s voice sounded incredibly panicked. One second later, my lips would have met his. But the moment the phone rang, he pulled away. The name “Chloe” flashed on the screen. Ethan almost subconsciously stepped back and answered it. Because the volume was a bit loud, I could faintly hear Chloe sobbing. Lost in the honeymoon bliss, I didn’t suspect anything. My first thought was that there was a massive crisis at the company that Chloe couldn’t handle. After all, she had been contacting him quite frequently during that time. Sure enough, half an hour later, Ethan looked at me guiltily: “I’m sorry, there’s an emergency at the company. I changed my ticket. I’m leaving tonight.” “I’ll go back with you.” “I promised to spend a whole month with you. Won’t it be too rushed if you come back with me?” Ethan’s face showed no signs of lying, his eyes full of apology as he reached out to stroke my hair. I naturally grabbed his hand. “A honeymoon is for two people. What’s the point of me being here alone? Besides, if we go back separately, my dad will definitely think we had a fight. There’s no need to worry him.” Ethan offered a small smile and nodded. “Okay.” Even though I also rebooked my flight, after landing, Ethan didn’t go home with me. He very “thoughtfully” called two cars. One to take me home, and the other, supposedly, to take him to the office. Only now did I realize that his actual destination that day was Chloe’s apartment. The memory playback in my mind ended. “I’m not pregnant, and I don’t want your money…” “Sophia!” Chloe interrupted me, leaning on the table as she stood up. “Are you still lying? If you’re not pregnant, why would Ethan pull strings to get his hands on your medical report?” Chloe’s words hit me like a physical blow, sending a shock through my body. “What…” “Sophia, do you know what I hate the most? It’s how you pretend not to know anything, when in reality, you’re just as calculating as I am, aren’t you?” Chloe’s face darkened. “Hello, Mr. Vance. Is it true that you donated 3.6 million dollars to the Cancer Foundation?” “Yes, because my wife was recently diagnosed with cancer as well. I hope to use this opportunity to build some good karma for her, and I hope all patients can be like her—actively seek treatment and never give up.” … A familiar voice suddenly came from the restaurant’s TV. Both Chloe and I turned to look. It was Ethan. He was smiling at the camera, and whether intentionally or not, he was twisting the wedding ring on his finger—the ring he should have taken off a long time ago.

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Last year, the developer’s son insisted on taking his yacht out during storm season. Half an hour later, he was gone. The yacht was caught right in the eye of the storm. Professional rescue teams couldn’t even get close. Only I knew how to navigate that old fishing boat. I didn’t hesitate. I steered the boat straight into the tempest and pulled him back to shore. But the moment he stepped off, he pointed a finger and cursed me, claiming I, a woman, had steered the boat so erratically that his limited-edition jacket got torn. He demanded I pay him thirty thousand. I confronted the developer, but he merely sized me up, cold and dismissive, telling me I had to take responsibility for my mistakes. This year, his son got into trouble again, in the very same stretch of sea. This time, the developer was literally begging, practically knocking his head on the ground, just for me to save his son’s life. 1 On South Bay Pier, I was patching the last tear in my fishing net. A commotion erupted behind me. Old Man Gunther, the village elder, rushed over, his face etched with worry: “Quick, everyone! Mr. Davies’ yacht is trapped in the storm!” The pier was packed with people. Mr. Davies stood at the front, his face a thundercloud. “What good are these rescue teams? Why aren’t they out there saving my son?” Old Man Gunther hastily waved his hands. “The rescue team says the water in that reef area is too shallow, big ships can’t get in!” A hush fell over the crowd. Then, Old Man Gunther suddenly looked at me, as if he’d found salvation. “Penny, you’re the only one in our village who can handle those old fishing boats. You’re the only one who can save Mr. Davies’ son.” Dark clouds churned ominously across the sky. But a life was on the line. “Alright, I’m going.” I jumped onto the old fishing boat my dad left me and fired up the engine. The storm was fiercer than I’d imagined. Several rogue waves crashed over me, drenching me to the bone, and leaving my arms with several stinging cuts. Half an hour later, I finally spotted the stranded yacht. Lucas Davies lay slumped on the deck, trembling uncontrollably. “Jump over!” I yelled at him. But he hesitated, and another wave slapped against the yacht, sending him cowering back onto the deck. “Jump, now! The waves are getting bigger!” The waves grew more violent, tossing the old fishing boat wildly on their crests. If I wasted any more time, not only would I fail to save him, I wouldn’t make it back myself. Finally, he moved. Lucas scrambled over the yacht railing, closing his eyes as he jumped. The moment his feet touched the boat’s edge, a wave struck, throwing him backward. Just as he was about to tumble into the sea, I grabbed his collar and yanked him up with all my might. I dragged and threw him onto my deck. He lay there, lips ashen, scared out of his wits. As I turned the boat around, I tried to reassure him. “Don’t worry, I’ve sailed this route for over twenty years. I’ll get you back safe.” The return journey was even more perilous than the trip out. The storm raged, and the waves swelled higher and higher. The cuts on my arm burned like hell from the saltwater, making me feel like my whole arm was about to snap off. But I couldn’t stop. After what felt like an eternity, just before the full force of the storm hit, we finally reached the shallows. I collapsed onto the boat, my entire body aching, bones feeling dislocated, blood dripping from my arm. The shore was in chaos. A few villagers helped Lucas off the boat. Old Man Gunther wrapped him in a towel and handed him a mug of hot water. Mr. Davies also embraced his son, his face filled with relief and concern. No one looked at me. Not even a “thank you.” I leaned against the helm, catching my breath for a couple of minutes, before getting ready to head home. A voice from behind stopped me. “Wait a minute!” Lucas, wrapped in a clean towel, strode over. He tossed his dripping wet jacket at me. “This jacket? Limited edition. Three thousand bucks!” I stared at the torn jacket on the deck, my mind blank. “What do you mean?” “Don’t play dumb, you witch! You’re the one who ripped my jacket. Aren’t you going to pay for it?” “And you drive like a maniac! Couldn’t you keep the boat steady? Waves splashed all over me!” I froze. It took a few seconds for it to click. When he jumped, he nearly fell into the sea. I’d grabbed his collar to pull him up, and that’s probably how his jacket got torn. I looked at him, then at my arm, still bleeding. “I just saved your life, and you want me to pay for your jacket?” He puffed out his chest. “A life is a life, a jacket is a jacket!” “You damaged my property, you have to pay! My dad says no one gets a free pass!” I turned to Mr. Davies. I thought he’d say something. After all, I had just risked my life, diving into the storm to pull his son from the sea. Any father would value his son’s life more than a tattered jacket, right? But his reaction completely blindsided me. He glanced at Lucas, a flicker of approval in his eyes. As if to say: Good boy, standing up for your rights. Then he turned to me, his voice flat. “You made a mistake, you have to take responsibility. You damaged the jacket, so you must pay!” I suppressed my anger, staring at Mr. Davies. “Why should I pay? I saved your son’s life!” Mr. Davies sneered. “Who asked you to save him? The rescue team was almost there. People like you, always sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, just looking for an excuse to cozy up to us, right?” Lucas jumped up, glaring at me. “Exactly! You’re just a boat driver, trying to show off in front of me, hoping to climb the social ladder? Dream on!” I was stunned by his sheer arrogance and shamelessness. I looked at my fellow villagers, hoping they’d speak up for me. But they stood with Mr. Davies and his idiotic son. “This girl is so clueless. Mr. Davies is investing fifty million in our village. Why argue with him?” “Yeah, you damage something, you pay for it. Mr. Davies is right.” “Mr. Davies is a big shot, he treats everyone equally.” Listening to their familiar accents, seeing their familiar faces, I suddenly felt a wave of nausea. Fifty million? This Mr. Davies had promised to invest fifty million dollars in North Reef Village for tourism development. Yet, he hadn’t invested a dime, instead staying here for three months, freeloading and sweet-talking. The villagers dared not offend him, fearing their cash cow would bolt. They practically licked his boots, eager to please. Old Man Gunther, seeing the stalemate, tried to smooth things over. “Penny, just apologize, and this whole thing will blow over. It’s not about the money for Mr. Davies; he just wants an explanation.” An explanation. I saved his son’s life, and he wanted an “explanation” for me tearing his son’s jacket. I smiled. I looked at them and slowly spoke. “Alright, I’ll pay.” Back home, I simply bandaged the wound on my arm. Then I sat in the yard, looking at the old fishing boat docked by the shore. I decided to sell it. Not because I was short on three thousand. On the contrary, my grandparents and parents had accumulated quite a bit of property, including a dozen shops in the adjacent bay. But I felt the boat was unlucky. My dad had gotten into trouble on that very boat. Now this. It felt like bad karma. I pulled out my phone and contacted a buyer in the next bay. He offered four thousand dollars, a thousand more than Lucas’s stupid jacket. The deal was done the same day, and the money was transferred to me in full. The next day, I went to Mr. Davies’ office. Lucas sat on the sofa, legs crossed. Seeing me enter, he grinned. “Well, well, did you actually scrounge up the money? You didn’t have to borrow it, did you?” I ignored him, placing the money on the table. “Receipt.” Mr. Davies had his accountant issue a receipt, which read “Jacket Damage Compensation.” I took it, folded it, put it in my pocket, and turned to leave. Lucas called after me, smirking. “Next time, don’t be so eager to climb the ladder, and try to steer the boat a bit steadier.” The next day, I packed my things, ready to leave North Reef Village. I had a house and shops in the next bay, a place to settle down and shake off the bad luck. As I stepped out of the gate, I ran into Old Man Gunther. He looked surprised. “Penny, are you leaving?” I nodded. He frowned. “Isn’t the Mr. Davies business over? Besides, what’s a young woman like you going to do running off so far?” “I’m not running. My family property is still here. I’m just going to check out the next bay.” Old Man Gunther waved his hand. “Mr. Davies invested fifty million in our village. Falling out with him won’t do anyone any good.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Old Man Gunther, has the fifty million arrived yet?” He stammered. “Soon, it’s going through the process…” I said nothing more, pulling my luggage and walking out. Just as I reached the village entrance, Mr. Davies’ car pulled up. The window rolled down, and Lucas poked his head out. “Oh, leaving already? Just because you had to pay three thousand? Is that why you’re running away scared?” Mr. Davies also glanced at me, stating calmly. “Young lady, don’t be so impulsive. You grew up in the village, going out might not be as good as staying here.” Lucas added. “Exactly, a boat driver, what can you do out there? Waitress?” I stopped, looking at them. “Mr. Davies, take your time with that fifty million. I’m not waiting.” Lucas’s face changed. “What do you mean?” “Nothing much. You keep scamming and freeloading in North Reef Village. I’m going to live my life in the next bay. No one gets in anyone’s way.” Mr. Davies’ face darkened. I settled into the next bay, taking over a storefront to sell dried seafood. My dad’s old clients, hearing I’d opened a shop, were willing to give me a hand. Business wasn’t booming, but it was comfortable enough. I’d occasionally visit North Reef Village. The village was still the same—run-down, roads unpaved, school unrepaired, not a penny of investment visible. Old Man Gunther would always greet me with the same line. “Soon, soon. Big projects take time, it’s always like this.” I couldn’t be bothered to expose him. One time, I overheard some villagers chatting. “Heard Old Man Hughes’ girl opened a shop in the next bay, doing quite well.” “Pfft, just selling dried goods? How much can she really make?” “She ran off over three thousand dollars, so petty.” “Exactly, a big boss like Mr. Davies, would he really care about her three grand? She just insisted on making a fuss.” I walked past them. They instantly fell silent when they saw me. No one thought Lucas was wrong. No one thought Mr. Davies was a problem. In their eyes, I was just a boat girl, supposed to quietly pay up and shut my mouth. I ignored them. Life went on like this for another year. It was the same storm season again. Lucas arrived in North Reef Village with a few friends. “Last time was just bad luck. This time I bought a new yacht, Italian imported. What storm can it not handle?” Mr. Davies stood nearby, probably feeling his son was now capable enough to venture out. At noon, Lucas set sail. Less than half an hour later, the storm arrived early. Lucas’s yacht was once again trapped in the same stretch of sea. After the distress signal was sent, the rescue team arrived quickly. But large ships couldn’t enter, and the rubber dinghies they launched were capsized by a single wave. Mr. Davies was sweating with anxiety. He seemed to remember something, frantically dialing numbers on his phone. Meanwhile, I was at home, taking a nap. Waking up, the numbers on my phone screen made me pause. Seventy-one missed calls, over a hundred text messages. Before I could even open them, my phone rang again.

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My childhood best friend, who happens to be a massive A-list actor, claimed his pipes burst and came over to my place to shower. But while he was in there, I accidentally answered a FaceTime call from the current “it girl” co-star he was rumored to be dating. “What are you doing, babe?” “He’s in the shower. Do you want to call back later?” Right at that moment, my best friend’s voice echoed from the bathroom: “Hey, can you grab me a towel?” With that one sentence, the entire internet exploded. His carefully crafted “single and unavailable” persona? Fake. His secret, hidden-away girlfriend? Very real. 01 Liam Wright is my childhood best friend; we grew up together. When we were little, I was determined to be his “boss,” but somehow, he beat me to it by becoming Hollywood’s newest obsession. So, I lost my chance to make him call me “boss.” To keep his ego in check, every time I watched his shows, I made sure my curtains were pulled tight. Like right now. Watching him play the devoted, silently suffering golden retriever trailing after the female lead, I clenched my fists. He was always a complete goofball in front of me, but on TV, he was playing this innocent, lovesick puppy. Swish. The curtains were suddenly ripped open. The same Liam who was just standing in the pouring rain for love on my screen was now standing in front of me, soaking wet. The outline of his abs was faintly visible through his clinging shirt. He waved a hand in front of my face. “Forgot what I look like?” I smoothly hid my iPad behind my back. “No. What are you doing playing wet t-shirt contest in the middle of the day?” “Just tell me you’re tempted.” “I will literally punch you into next week, believe it or not.” I raised my fist, pretending to hit him. My heart, however, was secretly racing like a wild horse. “Hit me then.” He smirked, reaching out to ruthlessly ruffle my hair. He swaggered past me with his long legs. “A pipe burst at my place. I came over to use your shower. You don’t mind, right?” 02 “How does a pipe just burst out of nowhere?” “It couldn’t handle how hot I am.” He moved fast, shutting the bathroom door before I could run over and smack him. “If my pipes burst because of you, I’m ending you.” He has the exact same phone as me, a white iPhone 14 Pro Max. He’s also incredibly lazy, so when he liked my phone case, he forced me to order him the exact same one. So, when a ringtone went off, I instinctively grabbed the phone and hit accept. The audio came through before the video buffered: “What are you doing, babe?” “I missed you so much.” Those two sentences left me absolutely stunned. I finally realized I had accidentally answered Liam’s phone. “Uh, he’s in the shower right now. Do you want to call back in a bit?” “He’s in the shower? Wait, who are you? Don’t you know you shouldn’t answer other people’s phones?” She frowned, firing off three questions in a row. I was just about to explain when Liam’s voice rang out from the bathroom: “Hazel, grab me a towel, would you?” “Hold on—” 03 The call had already been disconnected. I had to put the phone down and go find a towel. “Open up, towel delivery.” I knocked on the bathroom door. “Yeah. I’m opening the door now, don’t go peeping again.” “…” What did he mean by again? I instantly felt a vein pop in my forehead. During our junior year of high school, I went over to his house for late-night snacks. His bedroom door was cracked open, so I just walked in like I usually did, right exactly as he walked out of his bathroom, completely naked. That was the first time I ever saw the usually arrogant golden boy blush bright red and flee back into the bathroom like his life depended on it. Who knew that later, he would insanely twist that memory into me peeping on him while he showered. Thinking about it, a faint heat rose to my cheeks. “Who wants to look at you? It’s not like I didn’t see you running around bare-bottomed when we were kids…” A man’s hand reached out—defined knuckles, faint blue veins tracing the back—and snatched the pink towel inside. He let out a soft scoff. “Why is it still pink?” “It’s the only color I have. You got a problem with it?” “I wouldn’t dare.” His tone was so incredibly punchable. When he finally came out, I tossed his phone at him. “Some girl FaceTimed you earlier. I think it’s the one you were rumored to be dating last year. I thought it was my phone, so I answered it. Are you guys actually…” He glanced at me. “Don’t let your imagination run wild. I’m single.” He took the phone, checked it, and his brow furrowed slightly. Then, he casually tossed the phone aside. He lowered his head, drying his hair with the pink towel. The line from his neck to his waist formed a sharp, incredibly attractive arc. “You’re not going to call her back?” “Too busy. I’ll deal with it later.” For some inexplicable reason, I let out a quiet sigh of relief. 04 “Oh right, have you been watching my latest show?” As he leaned closer, the scent of my gardenia body wash wafted over from him. I blurted out, “Of course not.” Who knew that the second after he slowly nodded and said, “Haven’t seen it, huh?”, he’d lunge forward and snatch the iPad right out from behind my back. I shot up from the couch. “What are you doing?!” He laughed. “Nothing. Just checking your watch history. Why are you overreacting?” No, no, absolutely not. If he found out I secretly watched his shows, he’d probably brag about it for the next five years. “Give it back!” But Liam calmly sat down on the sofa, leaned back, and held the iPad high in the air, completely out of my reach. “Tsk, can those short little T-Rex arms reach this?” I launched myself at him, using all my strength to grab the iPad, and yanked it tight against my chest. I was just about to flash a victorious smile when I suddenly realized I was literally straddling his lap. My upper body was pressed against his, the position incredibly, undeniably compromising. “Don’t fucking pose like that…” He tilted his head back, his Adam’s apple bobbing. A burning heat instantly spread from my ears to my cheeks. But before I even had a second to scramble off him. BANG. My front door swung open. The heavy tension in the air was instantly shattered by two synchronized “Holy shits.” My best friend Chloe and our other childhood friend, Noah, stood there, jaws on the floor. “Holy shit, you two have been hooking up behind our backs?! How could you betray the trust of our childhood friendship?! Fake sobbing…” “Ahhhhh, my eyes! I shouldn’t be seeing this! Oh my god!” “We are not hooking up!” I sprang off Liam like I was launched from a catapult. “This jerk stole my iPad, I was just about to teach him a lesson.” Liam leaned back against the sofa, looking perfectly content, like he had just been thoroughly ravished. “Yeah. She was teaching me a lesson.” 05 Noah looked at Liam. “Bro, you know you’re trending at number one right now, and you’re just chilling here playing around?” Me: “Isn’t trending his default state of being?” Noah tossed his phone to me. “You’re involved in this one too. Take a look.” The words “Liam Wright Hiding Secret Girlfriend” had a massive red “BREAKING” tag next to them. My heart instantly sank, and I shot Liam a shocked look: “You have a secret girlfriend? Since when…” The next second, Liam’s fingers pinched my upper and lower lips together. “I just told you. I’m single.” Noah patted my shoulder. “Whoa, whoa, hold the banter. We have a massive situation right now!” Chloe chimed in. “Yeah, you two really need to look at this.” I didn’t think much of it until I looked—then I almost had a heart attack. —It turned out that the FaceTime call earlier was from the current “it girl,” Aria Stone, while she was live-streaming a reality show. I clicked on a trending clip from the show. It was a small prank segment where the female cast members had to call a “guy friend,” tell him “I miss you,” and see how he reacted. One of the cast members suggested: “Has anyone called Liam Wright? I really want to see his reaction, hahaha.” The moment she said that, the live chat immediately started tagging Aria. She acted shy. “Oh my gosh, you guys guessed it. I was just about to call him.” She immediately dialed Liam’s number. At that moment, the livestream viewership spiked to its absolute peak. And then came the part I had just personally experienced. When it started ringing, Aria nervously touched her chest, looking incredibly expectant as she delivered the highly anticipated, “I miss you.” But the voice that answered was mine. Then, the top half of my face appeared on screen, saying he was in the shower. The live chat instantly derailed. The screen was flooded with nothing but question marks. “Whoa, WTF is happening???” “Wait wait wait? Did I hear that right? A girl just said he’s in the shower?” And then, when Liam’s voice echoed from the bathroom asking me to bring him a towel, the chat exploded completely. “I’m just watching a reality show, and my man suddenly has a girlfriend?!” “‘Hazel’? We need a full FBI investigation on that name ASAP!” “Nooooo, they told us he was a single, unavailable ice king! It was all a persona! I’m sobbing.” “Hey, can the girl take the phone into the bathroom? Not that I want to see anything, but it’s just rude to shower off-camera.” The comments were scrolling so fast I couldn’t even read them. Aria still had a smile pinned to her face, but she quickly ended the call, the amusement completely vanishing from her eyes. “Oops, sorry guys, I think I accidentally dialed the wrong number…” But a male cast member next to her leaned in, sounding absolutely certain. “Let me see. No, that’s definitely Liam’s contact.” Aria’s expression instantly froze. “Then maybe it’s his sister…” “No way. Liam has mentioned in interviews that he’s an only child.” The live chat instantly seized the opportunity to spam: “She’s just his ‘sister’… sure, Jan…” 06 And then Twitter basically broke. #LiamWrightSecretGirlfriend #LiamWrightMysteryGirl #LiamWrightShowersWithoutATowel Fortunately, only the top half of my face was visible. Aria had played the role of the female lead’s best friend who secretly pined for the male lead (played by Liam) in his massive hit crime thriller. Her character’s silent, unrequited love resonated with a lot of viewers. As a result, a massive wave of “shippers” were constantly looking for proof that they were dating in real life. On the night of the finale, their names trended together for hours. A lot of fans had been hoping for a happy ending for them off-screen. Now, looking at the chaotic discussions online, some were wailing that Liam wasn’t “staying pure.” But mostly, it was people crying that their ship had officially sunk. Me: “Liam, I think I might have accidentally caused a massive disaster for you…” He tossed his phone aside. “I don’t think it’s a bad thing. I actually think it’s pretty great.” “How is this great?” Liam: “Since she decided to call me on a livestream, I was going to end up trending with her name attached to mine no matter what I did today. Now, that’s not going to happen.” Chloe chimed in: “He’s right! If you hadn’t answered, today’s headlines would definitely be about Liam and Aria. But because you picked up, the entire narrative shifted. That show ended a year and a half ago, and she still occasionally posts vague, ‘secret crush’ quotes to piggyback off his fame. It’s so annoying.” I understood now. “Oh, so you’re saying I actually did you a favor?” “Exactly,” Chloe winked at me. “Why don’t you guys just admit you’re dating and capitalize on the hype, hehe.” Me: “What are you even talking about? We aren’t dating, what is there to admit…” Noah nudged Liam with his shoulder: “It’s fine. You two can just confess to each other right now and boom, it’s real. Keep the good stuff in the family, right?” Hearing the word “confess,” my heart inexplicably skipped a beat. Liam’s expression shifted slightly. He shot Noah a look: “Back off. You think this is something to joke about?” I guiltily joined in: “Yeah, exactly.” Soon after, his manager called to discuss a crisis management strategy. After taking the call outside, Liam came back into the living room. “Hazel, the producers are going to call back in a minute. Do you want to go on camera with me to clear this up?” 07 On the show, the other guests had finished their calls. Only one guy was left, a baby-faced actor named Connor. He got his cue from the producers. “I’m good friends with Liam. Since he was busy showering earlier and I don’t think everyone got enough of the drama, I’ll call him again, hehe.” Soon enough, Liam’s phone rang beside me. As soon as he answered, Connor said in a sickeningly sweet voice, “Missed you, bro.” Liam clicked his tongue. “Knock it off. I know you’re filming.” “Liam, Liam,” Aria suddenly leaned into the frame. “It’s us!” But the moment I stepped into the shot, the smile on her face stiffened slightly. Connor’s eyes widened in surprise. “Whoa, Liam, is this your girlfriend?” “She’s my best friend. We grew up together. My pipes burst, so I came over to borrow her shower.” Then he explained why he was at my house. Of course, he was mostly explaining it to the audience watching the livestream. Connor played along, “No wonder! You guys are childhood friends.” I held up my phone to the camera. “Sorry about earlier. Our phones look exactly the same. I thought it was mine ringing and just answered it without looking.” Connor flashed a gossipy smile: “But why do you guys have the exact same phone case? The internet is convinced they’re matching couple cases, haha.” Liam: “I thought her case was cute, so I just had her order me the exact same one to save time.” I nodded. “Exactly. Our relationship is completely platonic.” After saying that, I looked at him. Neither of us was used to being this serious in front of each other. The moment we made eye contact, we couldn’t hold it together and both cracked a smile. Liam pinched my cheek. “Keep a straight face. Give me a little respect here.” I tried to stifle my laughter. “Okay, okay.” It reminded me of high school when our homeroom teacher made us do a poetry reading together. We had practiced it perfectly. But when the teacher made us do a dry run at the front of the class, we made eye contact halfway through and both burst out laughing. Just like now, the more people watching, the harder it was to keep a straight face. While we weren’t paying attention, the vibe in the live chat completely shifted. It was entirely flooded with variations of “YOU GUYS ARE SUS.” “Sus. The way they look at each other is so sus.” “Sus. There is definitely something going on there.” “Sorry to break the chain, but is Liam secretly in love with her? That soft look in his eyes, the cheek pinch… I literally cannot stop myself from overthinking this AHHHH!” “Omg, the childhood friends-to-lovers trope is everything! Why is Liam acting like this in front of her? I’m crying.” “Just stop denying it and announce it already.” “I’ve been reading a childhood-friends romance novel lately, and now I finally have faces to imagine it with, hehe.” “Damn! I always thought this guy was totally clueless about romance, turns out he was secretly blooming this whole time.” Amidst the chaos in the chat, Aria’s voice suddenly cut in. “By the way, Liam, the viewers were asking: if you hadn’t known it was me calling earlier, would you have blushed?” The live chat was instantly confused. “Who asked that? The viewers?” “You clearly wanted to ask that yourself, don’t use us as a shield.” “No,” Liam answered flatly. “I generally don’t answer FaceTime calls from people I’m not close with. Plus, this is my work phone. Today was just a complete accident.” It was a brief statement, but the implications were massive. “Hahahaha, Aria, are you sure you’re not just here to act as their wingman?” “So, Liam and Aria aren’t even close? I thought they hung out all the time off-screen.” “I’m so done. In past interviews, Liam clearly stated he wouldn’t date anyone in the industry. The fans just refused to listen and insisted Aria was his exception. They got slapped in the face today, huh.” “Honestly, Aria pulling stunts like this every time has completely ruined any goodwill I had for her.” “Liam has my heart. He never clarifies rumors this directly. He’s actually anxious this time. He isn’t worried about the audience misunderstanding; he’s terrified his childhood bestie will misunderstand! I’m sobbing.” “Seriously, this authentic childhood friends ship is so much better than those forced, fake Hollywood showmances.” I watched the rapidly refreshing comments. I didn’t think much of it until I looked—then I almost had a heart attack. “Guys, stop making stuff up. You know how Liam looks at people. He looks at a dog with deep affection.” The chat instantly flooded with “WE DON’T BELIEVE YOU.” Me: “If you don’t believe me, ask him. His phone is full of terrible, ugly pictures of me.” Liam: “Yeah. I have gigabytes of them.” But the chat was impenetrable. “Keeping gigabytes of her pictures and refusing to delete them? True love confirmed!” “I don’t care, even if the President says otherwise, there is definitely something going on between you two.” I patted Liam’s arm. “Control your fans. Shipping anything and everything is only going to hurt them.” Liam’s lips curved into a smile as he looked at me. “Is that so? I heard shipping a little bit of everything is a balanced diet.” “???” How could he be making jokes at a time like this? I secretly punched his leg under the table, but he caught my fist in his hand and refused to let go. A tingling sensation spread from my fingertips, rushing up to heat my ears. 08 Before I could even process what was happening, the narrative online shifted yet again. Some gossip account had somehow dug up my TikTok profile. “Liam’s PR team won the lottery today. A small-time influencer ‘accidentally’ answered his phone while he was showering, trying to get famous. They played along, created this ‘childhood best friends’ persona, and the internet ate it up. Isn’t this PR stunt way more effective than a cease and desist?” “Wait, does anyone actually believe childhood friends buy matching phone cases, shower at each other’s houses, AND accidentally answer FaceTime calls? You don’t even need half a brain to know that’s impossible, right?” Yes, I have a TikTok account with about 300k followers. When I was studying in London, I’d often post pictures and videos of my daily life. I didn’t care about the follower count; it just kind of happened. I never expected that one day I’d be labeled an “influencer” by a gossip blog. And suddenly, a bunch of “sober” voices emerged. “I knew it was a PR stunt from the start. It’s hilarious how many people are falling for it.” “Honestly, I wanted to say this earlier. How could there be so many coincidences? A burst pipe? An asteroid hitting your bathroom would be more believable.” “That girl did it on purpose, obviously. But everyone is shipping them. So funny.” “I knew yesterday it couldn’t be a childhood friend thing. What guy friend has so little boundaries that he showers at a girl’s house? Turns out she’s an influencer…” “Pack it up, everyone. Rich guys and actors all end up with influencers eventually. We all know how it goes.” “The modern male celebrity’s go-to excuse to avoid being cancelled: ‘She’s just my childhood friend.’ If she’s really his childhood friend, why was there zero trace of her when he was in college?” “Exactly. Liam debuted in college. If he had a childhood best friend, his hardcore fans would have dug her up years ago.” “Aria is the real victim here. The look in her eyes earlier actually broke my heart.” A flood of unprecedented hate comments poured into my vlog account. “Don’t think we don’t know what you were trying to do by answering that call. Your desperation for fame is practically spilling out of the screen.” “Stop playing innocent. Everyone knows exactly what you’re trying to pull.” 09 At the same time, Aria posted a tweet late at night. It made my jaw drop. It was a few selfies of her with tears streaming down her face. “Rewatching the show I was in, I still want to cry. Having a secret crush is so painful.” Her tweet was instantly picked up by the gossip blogs. “Oh, honey, stop thinking about that man. He likes influencers, he doesn’t deserve you! Crying emojis” “So Aria is the only one still stuck in character. She bore the weight of it all alone.” A massive wave of people expressed their sympathy for her. “Wait, don’t get distracted by the narrative here. Aria has been clinging to Liam’s fame for relevance this whole time. Why is she acting like the victim now?” Whenever Liam’s fans tried to defend him, they were swarmed and mocked: “Hilarious. You actually thought that girl was just his childhood friend?” “Fans are selectively blind. You’re defending him, but he’s not going to date you.” “I’ve been a fan for four years, and I think he and Hazel look great together. Is that a crime?” “You claim to be die-hard fans, but it took you four years to find out he has a childhood friend named Hazel?” “…” 10 It was the middle of the night. The controversy was still brewing, and I didn’t want to act impulsively. I was terrified that one wrong post would be twisted by the gossip blogs. Liam was probably asleep too. No matter how anxious I was, I had to wait until tomorrow to discuss how to clear things up with him. I tossed my phone aside. Out of sight, out of mind. Sleep was more important. The next morning, I was woken up by my phone vibrating incessantly. Chloe: “Hazel! Look at Twitter! Liam posted photos of you guys!” 11 Liam’s clarification post went up at 4:00 AM. It was a carousel of nine photos. They were pictures of us together, from childhood all the way to adulthood. There were photos of us at the beach, sliding down slides at the playground when we were little, standing on the high school track field, reciting poetry together at the podium, and that one time on a snowy street in London. “To those spreading rumors, enough is enough. If this isn’t what childhood friends look like, would you like to discuss the definition with my lawyers?” Once those photos were released, the rumors shattered instantly. The internet exploded. “Haters, come out and apologize right now! Just because you don’t have a childhood best friend doesn’t mean no one else can!” “Ahhhhh! 4:00 AM! This is the fastest response I’ve ever seen! He refuses to let his girl suffer even a tiny bit of injustice. I’m sobbing.” “Those gossip accounts are fucking shameless, always trying to control the narrative. What did the ‘Blank Canvas’ (Liam and Hazel) ship ever do to you? So angry!” “Haters, open your titanium eyes and look at this! If this isn’t a childhood romance, what is? Stop claiming ‘all men are trash’ just because you thought your fave was messing around with an influencer!” He was even replying to people’s questions in the comments. Comment: “What are you going to do about those gossip accounts spreading rumors?” Liam: “Nothing. Just preparing to sue them.” Comment: “Did your pipes really burst? [Doge emoji] [Doge emoji] I don’t even want to expose you.” Liam: “They really burst. [Doge emoji]” Comment: “Bro, why did no one ever capture you guys together during the years you debuted in college? Shouldn’t childhood friends hang out often?” Liam: “She was going to university in the UK. Did you think I didn’t want to hang out with her?” “Hahahahaha! Am I detecting a hint of resentment in that sentence?” “The 8th photo was taken in London!!! Liam went to London to see his Hazel! Weren’t there fans who spotted him in the UK a few times back then? Case closed! He was going to see Hazel! I’m crying.” Eagle-eyed netizens even found the account that frequently interacted with me in my TikTok comments. “He is amazing. He commented on every single video. The most frequent question was, ‘When are you coming back to the States?’” The hate comments from before were buried. “Haters, please stop. If you scare our sister-in-law into not posting videos anymore, what is Liam going to look at?” Several alumni from our high school graduation year also stepped forward. “Oh my god, haters just invent things out of thin air. Calling her an influencer instead of a childhood friend? I’m so done. We were shipping Liam and Hazel back in high school, okay?” The atmosphere in the comments section under Aria’s crying tweet also drastically changed. “Girl, wake up. That ship sailed a decade ago. Stop being so dramatic, okay?” “You really know how to play the victim to rally your fans.” She quickly scrambled to post another tweet. “Sorry guys, couldn’t you tell I was just acting as a wingman??? I also think the ‘Blank Canvas’ ship is adorable. I posted that on purpose. Couldn’t you tell?” Netizens gave their sharp critiques. “The last time I was this speechless was the last time she did something like this.”

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My housekeeper’s son came to stay every weekend. Considering Mrs. Davis had been with my family for years, I never made a fuss about it. But that day, I came home to find my key code wouldn’t work. I looked closer and saw a piece of paper taped to the door. Scrawled on it were the words: “NO LEECHES ALLOWED.” I ripped the note off and knocked. When the door opened, I asked the housekeeper what was going on. Her son, Kevin, was sprawled on my sofa, legs crossed, and he shot me a nasty look. “Can’t you read?” he snarled. “You live in our house for free, day in and day out. Have you no shame? If you don’t have a place to live, go sleep on the street. I can’t stand parasites like you!” I was completely bewildered. Mrs. Davis rushed over, whispering, “I’m so sorry, sir. I… I didn’t tell my son I was the housekeeper. He has a bit of a temper… he doesn’t like strangers staying in the house.” She then added, “Oh, and don’t you have that other house out in the suburbs? From now on, when my son is here for the weekend, you should probably just go stay there.” Before I could respond, she shut the door in my face. I stood there for a moment in stunned silence, then calmly pulled out my phone and dialed the police. “Hello, I’d like to report a home invasion. Someone is illegally occupying my property.” 1 I never thought that I, the son of one of the wealthiest men in the country, would ever be called a freeloader. Especially not in my own damn house. Twenty minutes after my call, a police cruiser pulled up to the villa. Before the two officers could even get out and ask for details, the front door flew open and our housekeeper, Mrs. Davis, came scurrying out. She ran up to me, her face pale with panic. “Mr. Vance, what’s all this? Why did you call the police?” I just looked at her, saying nothing. One of the officers sized her up. “Are you the individual Mr. Vance reported for trespassing and illegally occupying his residence?” At the word “trespassing,” Mrs. Davis went into a full-blown panic. “No, no, officer, it’s all a misunderstanding! I’m Mr. Vance’s housekeeper. I take care of him. My son is just on break from school, staying for a couple of days. The keypad was broken, and when the repairman came, he changed the code. There’s no occupation, I swear.” She pointed to the front door, forcing a smile. “See? I came to open the door for him right away.” The officers glanced from me to her. “Mr. Vance, do you still wish to press charges?” I was about to speak when Mrs. Davis leaned in, her voice a desperate, pleading whisper in my ear. “Sir, Kevin’s father passed away when he was young. It hasn’t been easy raising him alone. He’s just started college, you know how it is… full of pride. And growing up without a father… he can be a bit extreme. If he found out I was just a housekeeper, he’d be crushed.” “I only did it to make him feel better about himself,” she pleaded. “For the sake of the twelve years I served your parents, please, just let this one go.” The mention of my parents made my resolve waver. Mrs. Davis had been with us for twelve years. My mother had been frail, and Mrs. Davis had been her constant companion, attending to her every need with unwavering devotion. The day my mother passed, Mrs. Davis had cried harder than anyone, kneeling by the bedside, clutching my mother’s hand and promising she would take care of me. And she had. After Mom was gone, she ran the household flawlessly, treating me like her own son. Every holiday, I’d give her a generous bonus, and she would always refuse it several times before finally accepting. Three months ago, her son Kevin got into the same university as me. Mrs. Davis was ecstatic but also worried. She was proud of his achievement but knew she couldn’t afford the steep tuition. I understood how hard it was for a single mother, so I offered to cover his entire four-year tuition. She had burst into tears, gripping my hands and thanking me over and over, promising she would repay my kindness. But last month, things started to change. I came home one day to find Kevin in my living room. Puzzled, I looked to Mrs. Davis, who pulled me aside. “Sir, my son has the weekend off and nowhere to go. I haven’t seen him in so long, so I asked him to stay for a couple of days.” I nodded. It was no big deal. The house had plenty of space, and it was nice for them to have a reunion. But soon, I started to feel like something was very wrong. 2 “A couple of days” turned into a fixed, non-negotiable weekend ritual. Every Friday evening, Kevin would appear. Every Monday morning, he would leave. At first, he just took pictures in the living room to post on social media, showing off to his friends that he was living in a mansion. I could understand that. Everyone wants to look good. What I couldn’t understand was the look of pure disgust he gave me every time our eyes met, as if I owed him a million dollars. A few times, while I was watching TV on the sofa, he’d pointedly pinch his nose and complain loudly, “Ugh, why does this amazing villa always smell so… poor?” Thinking he actually smelled something, I asked Mrs. Davis to give the house a thorough cleaning. But Kevin’s behavior only got more bizarre. He started spraying disinfectant on any spot where I had been sitting. He even placed a disposable plastic sheet on the sofa and told me to sit on it. I once caught him throwing away a mug I had used, his face twisted in disgust. When I questioned Mrs. Davis, she would just give me a meek, apologetic explanation. “Kevin is just very particular about hygiene, sir. He’s worried about your health and safety.” I didn’t think much of it. Between my classes and managing affairs for my family’s corporation, I was swamped. I didn’t have the energy to argue. Until this afternoon. Seeing that note on my door, it all clicked into place. Kevin thought I was the freeloader. I had been ready to teach them both a lesson. But now, with Mrs. Davis begging and pleading, my anger began to cool. “Sir, I promise, it will never happen again,” she whimpered. “I’ll tell Kevin the truth today, and he’ll never come back. Please, for all the years I served your parents, just forgive me this once.” Looking at her crumpled, desperate face, I sighed. “Fine. I’m dropping the charges.” After the police left, Mrs. Davis let out a long, shuddering breath of relief, thanking me profusely. Her demeanor was impeccable. True to her word, Kevin never showed up again. Mrs. Davis continued her duties with her usual diligence, keeping the house spotless. The only issue was that things started to go missing. One day it was a bottle of vintage wine. The next, a set of silverware. Then, one of my designer suits. Every time I asked, she had an excuse. “Oh, sir, I am so sorry. I broke that bottle of wine while cleaning.” “Sir, that dinnerware was so old, I noticed a crack in it while washing. I was afraid you’d cut yourself, so I threw it away.” “Sir, I took that suit to the dry cleaner, and they lost it.” The excuses were flimsy, but her attitude was so apologetic that I let it slide. I thought that was the end of it. Then came the day of my parents’ memorial. After paying my respects, I decided to drive out to the suburban villa where they had lived for most of their lives. It was their favorite place. The garden was filled with my mother’s prize-winning roses, and the house was a museum of souvenirs my father had collected from his travels around the world. Before my mother passed, she held my hand and told me that the villa was their life’s work, and I had to take care of it. I cherished that house. Even though it was painful to be there, I made a point to go every few months to personally dust every piece of furniture and tend to the garden. But this time, as I pulled up, I froze. The gate, which was always locked, was wide open. From inside, I could hear the thumping bass of loud music and a cacophony of laughter. I strode forward and pushed open the door. The scene inside made my blood run cold. 3 The living room was a disaster zone. Empty bottles, snack wrappers, fruit peels, and cigarette butts littered the coffee table, the sofa, and the floor. The custom leather sofa, worth a fortune, was pockmarked with burn holes. My mother’s beloved Persian rug was covered in muddy footprints and stained with spilled wine. The artifacts on the walls had been taken down, used as props for photos, or simply smashed and left in a corner. My fists clenched at my sides. This was the house my parents had built, piece by piece. Every item had been chosen with love. I walked carefully here, terrified of breaking something. And now, it had been desecrated. My eyes scanned the room and landed on Kevin, lounging on the main sofa like a king. He was surrounded by a group of my classmates from the university. “Kev, man, your family is loaded!” one of them said. “Even your suburban place is this insane.” “Yeah, I just looked it up. That painting on the wall is worth millions!” “Dude, your mom is a powerhouse. A multi-billionaire tycoon!” “Hey, when you inherit the family business, think you can hook us up with jobs?” Kevin’s lips curled into a smug grin. “No problem. Stick with me, and you guys will be set for life.” The group erupted in cheers, showering him with praise. Just then, Kevin saw me standing in the doorway. His smile vanished. He swaggered over to me, his expression arrogant. CRACK. Without a word, he punched me square in the face. “You fucking leech,” he snarled. “Did you follow me all the way out here?” The sudden blow left me stunned. My classmates stared, wide-eyed. “Kevin, what’s going on?” Kevin pointed a trembling finger at me, his voice dripping with contempt. “This is Conrad. He’s the freeloader I was telling you guys about! Squatting in my city house wasn’t enough, now he’s trying to move into the new villa my mom just bought me!” I stared at him in disbelief. “Who told you your mom bought this house?” Kevin scoffed. “My mom did, obviously. You’re just a loser who’s trying to leech off my mom because she’s a CEO. You think I don’t see you, always trying to get her attention? It’s not enough that you squat in our home, trying to get her alone, now you want to defile my personal villa?” “Let me tell you something,” he sneered, jabbing a finger into my chest. “My mom said she only lets you stay with us because she feels sorry for you, you pathetic orphan. Don’t push your luck and think you can take my place.” So that’s what Mrs. Davis had told him. No wonder he hated me. In his mind, his mother was the billionaire owner of the mansion, and I was just a charity case she had taken in. He thought I was the one mooching off his family, trying to usurp his position as the rightful heir. How utterly absurd. Kevin turned to his friends. “You guys have no idea how shameless this guy is. He lives in our house and refuses to leave. I even left him a note, telling him to get out, and you know what he did? He called the cops on my mom! My mom was worried he’d make a scene and hurt the company’s reputation, so she just bought me this place to get away from him.” He was on a roll now. “I don’t get it. I’m her actual son, the real heir, and I still live in the dorms most of the time. But this parasite acts like our house is his! It’s so bad that if I want to wear my own clothes or drink my own wine, my mom has to sneak it out of the city house for me, because she’s afraid he’ll throw a fit and say we’re mistreating him. I’ve never met such a pathetic, shameless loser in my life!” My eyes widened. So that’s where my missing things had gone. Mrs. Davis had been stealing them for her son. So be it. If she wanted to play me for a fool, then I was done being gracious. 4 I pulled out my phone and dialed my legal department. “Get a team to my parents’ suburban villa immediately—” Before I could finish, Kevin snatched the phone from my hand and smashed it on the floor. “You piece of trash, still trying to put on an act? ‘Your parents’ villa’? This is my mother’s villa!” My classmates joined in the jeering. “No wonder he never stays in the dorms. We all thought he was busy with something important, but he was just being a parasite at Kevin’s house, trying to steal his mom. Disgusting.” “Yeah, his own parents are dead, so he goes after someone else’s rich mom. If his parents knew what a shameless loser he turned out to be, they’d be rolling in their graves.” “Some people are just like that. The second they see money, they start scheming. Trying to find a sugar mama to climb the social ladder.” “Kevin, you’re too nice. If someone tried to steal my parents, I’d rip them apart!” I ignored them and looked straight at Kevin. “I suggest you call your mother,” I said, my voice dangerously calm, “and ask her who this villa really belongs to.” Kevin’s face darkened. He grabbed the collar of my shirt. “You loser, you want me to call my mom? I know your game. You’re just trying to trick her into coming here so you can manipulate her again!” Suddenly, his eyes fixed on my neck. His gaze sharpened. “That jade pendant looks expensive. I bet you guilt-tripped my mom into buying that for you too, didn’t you?” Before I could react, he yanked the chain, ripping the pendant from my neck. It happened so fast, I was powerless to stop him. My blood ran cold. “Give it back,” I snarled. Seeing my sudden panic, a cruel smile spread across Kevin’s face. “So tense? Did this cost my mom a lot of money?” “It was my mother’s,” I said, my voice tight with urgency. “It’s not valuable, but it’s important to me. Give it back.” I lunged for it. That pendant was a talisman my mother had nearly died to get for me. I had been a sickly child, and at ten, I fell into a coma. The doctors told my parents to prepare for the worst. My mother, refusing to give up, went to a remote mountain temple to pray for me. To show her sincerity, in the blistering summer heat, she knelt and kowtowed every single step from the base of the mountain to the summit. Her knees were raw and bleeding, her forehead bruised and battered. By the time she reached the top, she was barely conscious, but the monks, moved by her devotion, gave her the pendant. Miraculously, I woke up from my coma. But the ordeal had broken my mother’s health. She never fully recovered. Before she died, she placed the pendant in my hand and made me promise to always keep it safe. It was more than an heirloom. It was the last piece of her I had left. It was a line no one was allowed to cross. “The more you want it,” Kevin sneered, “the more I want to destroy it.” He threw the pendant to the ground with all his might. There was a sharp, sickening crack. The jade shattered into a dozen pieces, scattering across the floor. “No!” A strangled cry escaped my lips. Seeing the one thing my mother had given her life for destroyed… I couldn’t breathe. The world went red. “You’re an animal,” I choked out, and with a guttural roar, I drove my fist into his face. “You piece of trash! You dare to hit me?” Kevin shrieked, clutching his bleeding nose. “Get him! Teach this loser a lesson! Whoever does the best job, I’ll have my mom give you a million bucks!” That was all it took. My classmates’ eyes lit up, and they descended on me like a pack of wolves, kicking and punching. “You hit Kevin? His mom is the richest woman in the city! Who the hell do you think you are?” “Yeah, you’re just a freeloader! That necklace was probably a handout from Kevin’s mom anyway. He can break his own stuff if he wants!” “Shameless trash! Trying to steal someone’s mom is one thing, but hitting the real heir? You’re asking for it.” “You have the nerve to mention your own mom? No wonder your parents died young, leaving a disgrace like you behind!” I was on the ground, shaking with a rage so profound it felt like it would tear me apart. “You’re all going to regret this,” I gritted out through a mouthful of blood. They roared with laughter. “Regret it? Kevin’s mom is a billionaire! What are you, a nobody, going to do to us?” “You’re just a pathetic orphan who lives by leeching off people. Who are you trying to threaten?” “All you can do is rage like a powerless little worm.” They held me down, mocking me, their faces twisted with contempt. Kevin, surrounded by his cheering friends, grabbed a fistful of my hair. “Regret it?” he spat. “I’ve never regretted anything in my life. I can’t wait to see how a lowlife like you is going to make me.” Just as the words left his mouth, the sound of screeching tires filled the air. A fleet of black luxury sedans had pulled up to the villa, their engines purring like predators.

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Six months ago, my mother knelt on the floor, begging me to donate a kidney to my stepsister. Six months later, the night before my wedding, she knelt again, begging me to give up my fiancé to the stepdaughter she cherished so much. My own biological brother slapped me across the face: “Aubrey, how can you be so selfish? She’s dying, don’t you know that?” It’s okay. In two more months, I’ll be dead too, and everyone will finally be satisfied. 01 The night before I was supposed to walk down the aisle, my mother knelt on the floor and begged me, “Brie, postpone the wedding. Just let Liam go keep Chloe company for a bit, okay? Chloe has severe depression. When she found out you two were getting married, she got even sicker… Please, Mom is begging you.” I didn’t answer. Immediately after, my brother viciously slapped my face. He was fuming, the veins on his neck bulging from anger. I looked at them and smiled, “Is it true that whatever Chloe wants, you’ll make me sacrifice? My kidney, and now even my future husband, right?” Tears welled up in my mother’s eyes. “Chloe is still so young… she can’t live without Liam. Mom promises you, once Chloe gets better, I’ll have Liam come back and marry you, okay?” My brother gripped my wrist tightly. “Aubrey, stop being unreasonable. We’re a family. Isn’t it a good thing that Chloe stays alive?” Liam knocked and entered the room. His expression was unreadable, and he was still wearing the tuxedo he was supposed to get married in tomorrow. I could see the hesitation hidden in his eyes, but in the end, he just patted my head. “Aubrey, wait for me to come back.” The three of them rushed out in a panic. Leaving me completely alone, like a bewildered clown. The wedding dress I was supposed to wear tomorrow was still laid out on the bed. I stared at the medical report in my jewelry box, the one I had just picked up yesterday. I thought to myself, It’s fine. I’m dying soon anyway. Once I’m dead, everyone will be happy. Along with the kidney I donated six months ago, and my future husband, everything will belong to her. 02 My mother had already notified all our friends and relatives not to come tomorrow. The wedding was canceled. And Liam had notified his side of the family that the wedding was postponed. As the bride, I had absolutely no say in the matter. Just like six months ago, when Chloe needed dialysis and a kidney transplant due to uremia, the whole family was asked to get tested for a match. I had always been the most invisible presence in this house. But on the day the results came out, for the first time ever, my mother, my stepfather David, and my brother didn’t stay at the hospital with Chloe. Instead, they cooked a lavish dinner for me at home. I had never been treated like this in my entire life, and I felt somewhat overwhelmed by the attention. But not a single person remembered that I was allergic to shellfish. My mother spoke ingratiatingly, “Brie, the results are back… You’re a match with your sister. You can save her…” I stared at the seafood on the table and suddenly looked up at the three people in front of me. “Do you guys even remember that I’m allergic to shellfish?” My brother slammed his chopsticks onto my plate, his face full of suppressed anger. “Aubrey, our sister is dying, and you’re making a fuss about a seafood allergy right now?” My mother burst into tears. “Brie, you have to save her. Don’t forget, your stepfather David paid for your tuition and living expenses from childhood to college. You should know how to repay a debt.” It was pouring rain outside that day. My mother knelt down and begged me, my brother glared at me with hostility, and David looked at me with pleading eyes. I smiled. “Mom, if I donate this kidney, can you promise never to ask me to give up my things for her again?” My mother hesitated for a moment, but then nodded vigorously like a woodpecker. “Mom promises you.” I agreed. The three of them finally let out a sigh of relief. Looking at the heavy rain outside, my mother rushed to leave. “Chloe is terrified of thunder. She’ll be scared without me. I’m going to the hospital to stay with her.” Left alone in the house, staring at a table full of seafood, I suddenly remembered when my dad was still alive. My mom loved me, my brother adored me, and the whole family carefully protected me. When did everything start to change? It seems like it was twenty years ago, when my dad passed away from an illness, and my mom took me and my brother and remarried David. David was kind and amiable, and his daughter Chloe was lively, clever, and loved by everyone. In contrast, after my father’s death and the sudden drop in our quality of life, I became quiet and withdrawn. I wasn’t the kind of child adults found endearing. Sometimes, watching my brother, my mother, David, and Chloe, they looked like a real family of four. I felt like the odd one out. Whatever I liked, if Chloe liked it too, my mother would give it to her. Even my brother, as the days went by, grew to favor the stepsister who shared no blood with him. She would affectionately lean on his shoulder and eagerly hop onto the back of his bike after school, completely ignoring me, standing anxiously behind them. Back then, Chloe told me, “Aubrey, your mom and brother are mine now. You’re so unnecessary.” While I stood there in a daze, my eyes turning red, she ran up to my mother, hugged her, acted spoiled, and then turned around to stick her tongue out at me. 03 Remembering this, I lay down on my wedding dress on the bed. My body suddenly ached violently—a pain that drilled deep into my bones, making large tears stream uncontrollably from my eyes. I curled up on the wedding dress I had spent so long picking out, crying like an abandoned puppy. The next day, I packed my things and went back to the small apartment Liam and I shared. I texted Liam: “Liam, I think we need to talk.” Soon, a message from Liam came through. It was a selfie of him and Chloe. He was smiling, looking just like the young, carefree college boy he used to be. His brow was relaxed, his expression at ease. I knew Chloe had sent it. I called my mother. She answered, but just brushed me off in a hushed voice, “Liam is here with Chloe. She’s much more stable now. Okay, I have to go, I need to bring Chloe her soup.” I threw my phone aside and looked at the whimpering puppy nearby. He jumped onto my lap, sniffed me, and rested his head on my legs. I don’t know if dogs can smell sickness, but he seemed a bit downcast. I patted his head. “Buddy, Mom has to go take care of something. I’ll be back to get you.” I drove to the hospital. David and my mother were sitting nearby with loving expressions, peeling an apple for Chloe, while my brother and Liam were right beside her, helping her rank up in a video game. Fighting through the physical discomfort, I twisted the doorknob and walked in. Chloe’s face immediately darkened. She grabbed Liam’s arm, her eyes welling up with tears as she feigned being wronged. “Aubrey, can you let me have Liam? Just for a little bit?” Liam quickly stood up and gently brushed her hand away. “Brie, I was actually planning to head home soon.” David looked a bit embarrassed, but he still put on a placating smile. “Brie, Chloe hasn’t fully recovered yet. Once she’s better, the whole family will attend your wedding.” At this, Chloe seemed to suffer a severe shock. She clutched her head and started screaming violently. My brother hugged her, patiently coaxing, “Don’t be scared, Chloe, don’t be scared. Your brother is here. I’m right here.” My mother shoved me towards the door. “Why are you here? Don’t you know seeing you triggers her?” I stared straight into my mother’s eyes. “Mom, do you even remember that I’m your biological daughter?” A flicker of hesitation crossed her eyes, but then she coldly pushed me away. “Aubrey, stop being immature. Don’t forget, David paid for your college and your master’s degree. You need to be grateful.” Desperately, I grabbed my mother’s hand. “Mom, I can give all the money back to David. Can you just…” She slammed the door shut without another glance. I numbly finished my sentence to the closed door: “Can you just… not treat me like this?” Liam eventually pushed the door open and stepped out. Guilt hid in his eyes. “Brie, there’s nothing going on between Chloe and me. Her depression is really severe.” I looked at the man I had loved for seven years, ever since our freshman year of college, and finally let out a long sigh. “Liam, the summer of our first year of grad school, when Chloe insisted on coming to our city for an internship… when I checked the pet camera at home, I saw everything you two did every single day.” He turned pale, his fingers gripping my sleeve tightly. “Brie, we didn’t do anything.” I nodded. “You’re right, you didn’t do anything. You played video games together, binge-watched shows together, walked my dog together. Even when she badmouthed me, or when she secretly kissed you while you were asleep on the couch, you didn’t push her away.” “Brie, we’re getting married.” “Liam, we’re not getting married anymore. I wanted to play dumb, but it seems playing dumb can’t cover up certain facts. Chloe is indeed more likable than I am; everyone loves her. I can’t pretend anymore. Just like all those times she sent you cute selfies—even though you never replied, you fell for her, didn’t you?” As I turned to leave, Liam suddenly hugged me from behind. “Brie, I’ll go home with you. We’ve been together for seven years. Seven years…” Right then, Chloe’s face appeared in the window, and she violently slammed her head against the wall. A loud thud echoed. Her forehead started bleeding, and she glared at me with a ferocious expression. “Aubrey, why do you have to fight me for everything?” Liam hesitated. He let go of my hand, his gaze darting away, and reached for the doorknob to go back inside. I knew, in that moment, our seven-year relationship was over. My mother and brother’s scolding reached my ears again—the filthiest, most vulgar curses they reserved for me, the outsider, the intruder, when they were at their most furious. My brother forcefully pinned me against the wall, glaring at me fiercely. “Aubrey, can’t you just act your age? Are you a fucking idiot? Do you have to turn the whole family upside down?” I looked at my brother and my mother and said, “Don’t worry. Liam belongs to your Chloe now.” 04 Liam didn’t chase after me. I drove home in a daze. I packed all my belongings, took my dog, and left the apartment we had shared for seven years. It’s laughable. Even after seven years together, all my belongings in that place fit into just a few large boxes. I was going to find Sarah. She was my best friend, who, out of disgust for city life, had run off to the open plains of Wyoming to live freely for years. When I called her, she was out tending to her sheep. “Sarah, I’m driving out to stay with you. I’ve always said I wanted to see the plains.” “What’s wrong, Aubrey?” “Nothing, Sarah. I’m already on the road.” I drove non-stop. When Sarah picked me up at the rest stop, she gave me a massive hug first. “Aubrey, why are you so thin? You’re just skin and bones.” I told her honestly, “Sarah, I think I’m going to die.” Sarah’s eyes widened. “Don’t joke around like that. It’s bad luck.” I hugged her tightly. “Bone cancer. Late stage. Not much time left.” Sarah tried to shove me back into the car like a madwoman. “I’m driving you to the fucking hospital right now.” I shook my head. “Sarah, I’m tired. I want to see the plains, see your sheep. I can’t handle the treatments anymore. I want to leave beautifully, without regrets.” I left my car at the rest stop and got into Sarah’s pickup truck. I rested in the backseat, holding Buddy. Liam’s call came through. I popped out my SIM card and threw it out the window. Sarah asked, “Does Liam know?” “He doesn’t deserve to know.” “What about your mom and brother?” “Maybe a long time ago, they stopped being my mom and brother and just became someone else’s.” We pulled up to her cabin just as dawn was breaking. The sun was slowly rising in the distance, casting a faint glow that pierced the darkness. It was Buddy’s first time seeing such vast, open land. He ran and jumped like crazy, tongue hanging out, radiating pure joy. I thought, If I die, it’ll be good for Buddy to stay here. He can run free and worry-free. Sarah lit a cigarette. The smoke rings scattered in the wind, and her eyes looked a bit red. Finally, she stubbed out the cigarette and stomped on it hard a few times. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Aubrey, are you an idiot?” I didn’t know what to say, but she pulled me into the cabin and then turned her back to me, her voice choking up. “Aubrey, that bastard Liam promised me he’d take good care of you. Is this how he takes care of you?” I gently tugged her sleeve. “Sarah, let’s not talk about him, okay?” 05 When I lay in bed with Sarah, she held my hand tightly the whole time. Her hands had gotten a bit rough, but the way she rubbed my palm gave me the most reassuring feeling. I leaned on her shoulder. “Sarah, am I weak for choosing to hide? I just don’t want to see them anymore.” “No, Aubrey. You can never wake someone who’s pretending to be asleep, and fighting won’t change your mom and brother’s favoritism. Running away is better.” Pain wracked my body again. I turned pale and took some painkillers out of my bag. Buddy lay nearby, whimpering softly. When Sarah fed me the pills, her hands were shaking. I forced a smile. “Sarah, I need your help with one more thing. “Sarah, my mom always said I spent a lot of David’s money on tuition and living expenses growing up. I’ve saved up quite a bit over the years. This $50,000, can you transfer it to their account for me? “Sarah, you’re my best friend, and I feel so guilty burdening you right before I die. There’s $15,000 left on that card. Just consider it my final gift to you, okay?” Sarah looked at me and let out a heavy sigh. “Aubrey, you should use this money to get treatment.” I shook my head. “Sarah, I don’t have time.” She didn’t say anything else, just turned her back to me and kept wiping her tears. I hugged her from behind. “Sarah, I’m so sorry. I know this is hard on you. If you feel it’s bad luck having me here, I can go die somewhere far away by myself.” “Aubrey, you asshole. I have money too. I have flocks of sheep and cattle. I can pay for your medical bills. Let’s get you treated, okay?” I rubbed her hair, my eyes red. “Sarah, do you know that just standing up straight is agony for me right now? I want to die beautifully. I don’t want chemo, I don’t want to lose my hair, and I definitely don’t want to die in the same city as them.” 06 Sarah stopped forcing me to see a doctor. That day, she sat out on the plains holding my medical report for a long time. Even from inside the cabin, I could hear her crying uncontrollably. She transferred the money from the card to David’s account for me. My mother rarely called Sarah, but she did this time. “Is Aubrey still throwing a tantrum? She went to stay with you, right? Well, that’s a relief. Tell her we got the money. It’s perfect timing, we can use it for Chloe’s medical bills.” Sarah couldn’t hold back her sarcasm. “Ma’am, if Aubrey was dying, would you stay by her side like you stay with Chloe?” My mother’s voice grew sharp and intense. “Sarah, tell Aubrey to stop being so petty and holding grudges against Chloe.” Sarah shot back, “Ma’am, isn’t one of Aubrey’s kidneys enough to repay you for raising her?” My mother paused, didn’t reply, and hung up the phone. I knew. I knew her too well. Only when she was dealing with Chloe was she a true, loving mother. Towards me, besides pressuring me to grow up faster and not be petty with my sister, she had nothing else to say. Even when I got into a top-tier university, she just glanced at the acceptance letter indifferently and said nothing. All because Chloe’s grades weren’t even good enough for a community college. She was afraid I would trigger Chloe. It’s fine. I’m used to it. Sarah drove me around the plains in her pickup truck. The grass was lush. When we parked, we sat in the back of the truck, watching Buddy run wild. I leaned against Sarah. “Sarah, when I die, scatter my ashes here. The grass here will definitely grow even thicker next year.” Sarah didn’t answer. She took a piece of candy from her pocket and put it in my mouth. “Come on, let’s not talk about that, okay?” But Sarah still cried. “I asked a doctor. If the patient’s will to live isn’t strong, the disease progresses very fast… You donated a kidney just six months ago… You only got sick a few months ago, didn’t you?” I patted her back. “Sarah, I really have no strength left.” Sarah hugged me tightly, and I suddenly remembered many things from childhood. “Sarah, do you remember? When my dad died, kids used to bully me and call me fatherless. You were the only one who stood up for me and protected me.” Sarah just choked back tears and didn’t speak. Her tears fell on my forehead, but I kept talking: “You protected me before, and I have a gift for you before I die. “Sarah, I put your name down as the beneficiary of my critical illness insurance. You have to live a good life.” Sarah broke down. “Aubrey, you’ve even planned things for after your death?” I wiped her tears. “Silly, don’t you love these plains the most? Whenever you come here, you’ll definitely be able to see me, and my puppy. Buddy is a very, very good dog, he’s just a picky eater. He doesn’t like dry kibble, only the dog food I make him. I’ll teach you how to make it over the next few days. I feel safe leaving Buddy with you, and he’ll be happy here.” I looked at Buddy panting and smiling at me in the distance. It’s nice. Just stay here from now on, good boy. Sarah hugged me tightly, pleading earnestly, “Aubrey, please don’t do this. Don’t do this. Let’s go get treatment. I don’t want your money. I’ll take you to get treated, okay? What’s the point of having that money if you’re not here? I can’t take care of your dog by myself if you’re gone.” 07 Why waste money on someone who’s already dying? I looked at Sarah and said seriously, “Sarah, I don’t want to waste any more time. Can you just let me have some dignity in my final days?” My nose started bleeding. She panicked, trying to stop the bleeding, then suddenly stood up. “Why isn’t it the bad people who die?!” She drove us back to the cabin. The moon was bright, the stars were sparse, and the lambs were settling down to sleep. I turned on my phone. I saw text messages from Liam. He knew my backup number. Those texts were manic—one moment saying we should break up, the next begging me not to leave. I didn’t even have to think; I knew those were Chloe’s doing. Then, a familiar number popped up on the screen. I answered it anyway. It was my brother. His tone was awkward, but he still spoke. “Aubrey, Chloe really likes Liam. Could you…” I didn’t even wait for him to finish before agreeing immediately. “I agree, brother. I haven’t bothered Liam. If Chloe has what it takes, Liam is hers.” My brother’s voice carried a hint of impatience. “What do you mean by that?” The pain in my body left me weak. I laughed softly. “Brother, do you remember when dad was still around? You used to carry me on your back and run everywhere. Brother, I gave all the money back to David. Can he give my mom and brother back to me?” My brother’s voice suddenly filled with alarm. “Brie, what’s wrong? Where are you?” I suddenly felt a sense of release. I whispered, “I gave my money, my kidney, and my boyfriend to the family. We should be even now, right? Mom won’t call me ungrateful anymore, will she? Brother, will you still be angry that I don’t care enough about my sister? Everything is hers now.” “Aubrey, where are you?” “If I had a choice, I wouldn’t have wanted to be Aubrey at all.” I hung up the phone. The physical pain hit me again. I watched Sarah feeding Buddy not far away. No, I couldn’t let her worry anymore. I forced myself to stand up and walked toward them, step by step. But I still passed out. 08 When I woke up, my vision had already started to blur. I knew my cancer had spread throughout my body. I even felt a cold dampness beneath me. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I had lost control of my bladder. The cancer spreading, the lack of strength, the blindness, the incontinence—all of it stripped away any remaining dignity I had. When Sarah came in to change my clothes and the sheets, she didn’t say a word. In less than a month, she had become gaunt and haggard from taking care of me. Expressionless, she led my brother into the cabin. My brother’s eyes were red, and he even had a black eye—clearly Sarah had hit him to vent her anger. I was stunned for a moment. “I really don’t have anything else to give Chloe. Can you please stop pushing me? Can’t I even die in peace?” The man, nearly 6’3″, suddenly knelt on the floor and cried like a child. He wiped his nose and tears, shuffling closer to the bed on his knees. “Brie, let me take you home, okay? We’ll go home and get treatment. I promise I won’t go spend time with anyone else. You’re my biological sister, how could I…” I pushed him away. “Please, stay away from me.” He reached out to touch me, but I subtly dodged him. He looked stunned, his eyes red as he asked, “It hurts a lot, doesn’t it? Is it really painful? Brie, come home with me.” I suddenly broke down. The facade I had maintained all these days morphed into a ferocious expression. Like a madwoman, I cursed at him, “I’m dying! What are you pretending to be the good guy for now? If you really think of me as your sister, then don’t ever let me see you again.” Sarah took him outside, and I finally regained some peace. Sarah wiped her eyes. “He found us himself. I chased him away. Don’t be angry.” I didn’t know what Sarah said to him, but he never appeared in front of me again. The pain returned day after day, to the point where even painkillers were useless. I gritted my teeth and endured the agony, only daring to whimper softly when Sarah left the cabin. Buddy no longer loved running outside; he clung to me more and guarded me constantly. Enduring the pain and the unbearable soreness in every joint, I got up and played frisbee with him one last time. I threw the frisbee high and far, but Buddy didn’t budge. He just lay beside me, hugging my calf. I rubbed his head. “Do you want to make mom happy? Go on, fetch it. Good boy.” Only then did Buddy run off into the distance, but he kept looking back with every step, terrified I would disappear. Let it be like this, Buddy. You have to learn not to look back. I lied to Sarah, telling her the painkillers were working and that I could slowly stand and walk. She finally cheered up. She truly believed my condition might be improving. My brother didn’t visit me again, but I could still see lots of snacks and nutritional supplements left outside the cabin, along with a set of Barbie dolls I had dreamed of having as a child. I remember back then, David only bought one set of four dolls. Two for me, two for Chloe. But Chloe wanted all four. Without a word, my mother put all the dolls in Chloe’s room. She even scolded me in front of David: “Do you know how hard David works to pay for your schooling? And you still want to play with dolls? When you grow up and make your own money, buy your own. Don’t fight with Chloe.” Sarah hesitated. “Maybe he really regrets it. Should we…” I shook my head. “Sarah, even if he genuinely wants to treat me well now, it’s too late. I don’t need it at all anymore. Besides, I don’t want him living in the shadow of guilt. Let him go. Tell him not to come back, just pretend I’m living well somewhere far away.” Sarah sighed and said nothing more.

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I secretly started dating my incredibly aloof, strictly-business professor. It was only after we got together that I realized the man was an absolute stage-five clinger. The relationship quickly became a velvet trap I could not escape, no matter how hard I tried. Then an accident wiped his memory. Testing the waters, I leaned in and softly called him “baby” in front of everyone. Instead of melting like he usually did, his face hardened into a scowl. “Miss Lily, there is zero room for negotiation regarding your makeup exam. Do not try to use your personal charm to take shortcuts.” Confirming Professor Stewart Wright had completely forgotten me, I was ecstatic. I practically sprinted to the nearest college bar, ready to mingle and meet some new, hot guys. Just as I was hitting it off with a cute stranger, Stewart suddenly materialized out of nowhere. His face was thunderous, but his voice broke with pure desperation. “There were too many people on campus earlier. I had to act like that. Please, I am begging you, do not get so close to anyone else. Seeing you with him, I feel like I am literally going to die.” 1 The eighth time I tried to break up with Stewart, his eyes immediately welled with tears. This was a man who routinely made grad students cry in his lectures. The sudden shift in power dynamics threw me completely off balance, draining all my aggressive confidence. “Even if you cry, we are done,” I stuttered out, losing my nerve. The man looked even more heartbroken. His thick, dark lashes clumped with moisture as heavy tears rolled down his sharp cheekbones. He wrapped his arms tightly around my waist, burying his face in my chest and rubbing against me like a stray dog. “Baby, sweetie, please do not say those words,” he mumbled against my skin. “My heart literally cannot take it.” Remembering how I always caved in the past, I forced my brain to stop thinking with my hormones. Ignoring his pathetic whimpering, I pulled out the ultimate trump card I learned from late-night soap operas. “Let me go. I am hopelessly in love with someone else.” Stewart gave me a look that said he knew this day would come. The corner of his mouth twitched upward, but the smile was pitch-black. “Who is he? Tell me, who is the man-whore you are seeing behind my back? The senior who carried your books last week, or the jock from the basketball team?” I decided to just roll with the lie, defending this imaginary lover with my chest. “None of your business. Whoever he is, he is better than you.” The man fell silent. His long, elegant fingers slid up my sides like nimble snakes. The cool touch of his skin made me shiver, my lips parting on a soft gasp. Stewart took the opening, crashing his mouth down on mine. His eyes were terrifyingly dark. “It is getting late. There is nothing a good night in bed cannot fix, right?” He kept me awake until two in the morning. By the time I was pulled into his warm chest, I did not even have the energy to curse at him. My eyelids were practically glued shut. His raspy, exhausted voice echoed in my ear. “Lily, abandoning a puppy is illegal, you know.” He reached over, grabbing my phone to toggle off my morning alarm. “I will excuse your morning classes tomorrow.” I had changed my lock screen passcode countless times, but Stewart always managed to unlock it without breaking a sweat. That night, I had a long, fragmented dream, reliving all my failed breakup attempts. Every single time, the man managed to trick, guilt, or seduce me into staying. It all started when my major’s core professor had to travel abroad for a sudden conference. The department was short-staffed, so they specifically invited Stewart, a brilliant research fellow, to sit in on the last lecture to take over the curriculum. I sat a few rows away, completely mistaking him for a student from another class. I was entirely bewitched by his untouchable, icy aura and absolute model-tier face. Right after the lecture ended, I gathered every ounce of liquid courage in my veins and said the words I would regret for the rest of my life. “You are incredibly gorgeous. Can I get your Insta or your number?” Stewart looked at me with cold, unreadable eyes. “I will give it to you tomorrow.” The very next day, my untouchable campus crush walked into the lecture hall in a tailored suit, establishing himself as our new professor. He stopped right in front of my desk, his face blank while my cheeks burned crimson, and pulled up his contact QR code. “Class representative, add me. It will make discussing the coursework easier.” One moment of bravery ruined my life. It was not until much later that I found out Stewart originally showed up that day to reject the teaching offer in person. But he accidentally made eye contact with me while I was openly drooling over him. He changed his mind on the spot and took the job. But finding out my situationship was actually my professor was not even the worst part. Once we started dating in secret, I discovered that beneath his cold, ascetic exterior was an intensely clingy, obsessive boyfriend. Without asking, he bought a luxury townhouse near campus entirely in my name. Once he coaxed me into moving in, he wanted to be glued to my hip twenty-five hours a day. He even insisted on following me into the shower. He forced me to use his black card for everything. One time I accidentally paid for something with my own money, and he sulked for days, constantly asking if I did not need him anymore. Another time, I sneaked out to a frat party without telling him. When I did not reply to his texts for two hours, the maniac almost called the police. When he finally caught me, he carried my drunk body to bed, silently taking off his glasses and his expensive watch. “Baby, liars have to be punished.” Just thinking about it made my throat feel dry and sore. Completely opposite to his pristine, academic vibe, Stewart was an absolute animal behind closed doors. When the resentment finally reached a boiling point, I mustered up my nonexistent courage and dumped him. Except, I just could not shake him off. I slept straight through the afternoon. Waking up, I checked our class group chat and saw an announcement. Professor Wright took a bad fall while hiking in the mountains, so our class was rescheduled. I opened my pinned chats. Stewart’s last text was sent at six in the morning. Because of the fake lover I invented, Stewart insisted on dragging his colleagues on a spiritual hiking retreat to burn some sage and cleanse me of my “toxic karma.” Did he end up cleansing himself off a cliff? What kind of messed-up karma was that? Since I was already committed to breaking up, I hesitated for a second before putting my phone down, refusing to text him back. By evening, news broke that Stewart was discharged from the hospital. The diagnosis stated he suffered head trauma and might experience partial memory loss. But after his family, friends, and colleagues tested him, they realized his brain was perfectly fine. He even scored higher on an IQ test than he did last year. The doctors found absolutely nothing wrong with his body and sent him home. That night, fulfilling my duties as the class rep, I went to his office to drop off the final batch of assignments. I fully expected him to use his injury as an excuse to whine and beg for cuddles. Instead, Stewart barely lifted his eyes from his laptop. His voice was freezing cold. “The grades are already finalized. You can pick up the makeup exam list on Friday.” “Oh,” I nodded, feeling a bizarre knot forming in my stomach. His attitude had completely reverted to the icy, untouchable professor I met on day one. A wild thought struck my brain. What if the memory loss the doctors warned about was specifically about me? Since we kept our relationship strictly underground, nobody else knew we were dating, which was why everyone thought he was fine. To test my theory, I used the noisy chatter of the neighboring cubicles as cover and leaned over his desk, whispering a soft “baby.” This was one of his mandatory conditions for keeping us a secret. Every time I dropped off homework, I had to call him baby before he would let me leave. But this time, Stewart frowned, standing up to look down at me with pure disdain. “Miss Lily, there is absolutely no room for negotiation on your makeup exam.” The surrounding faculty members immediately shot us gossipy glances. After Stewart shot them a warning glare, they scrambled back to their paperwork. As Hollis University’s youngest genius professor, Stewart came from old money. He was notoriously sharp-tongued and unapproachable. Both students and faculty were terrified of him. He lowered his voice, his tone mocking. “You should spend more time studying. Your personal charm will not support you taking these kinds of shortcuts.” It took my brain a second to realize he thought I was trying to seduce him for a better grade. But this proved one thing. He genuinely did not remember me. Because of our secret arrangement, I always kept his contact name saved as something generic. I made him delete our text history daily. Every single couple photo and video we took was locked exclusively in my phone. To him, there was zero trace of our relationship in his life. Did that mean my eighth breakup attempt was a total success? Realizing this, the sting of his insult vanished, replaced by the pure joy of being single again. “You misheard me, Professor. I was just clearing my throat.” Stewart condescended to actually look me in the eye, his dark pupils suddenly shifting with an unreadable emotion. Having explained myself, I spun around and practically skipped out of the office. I did not notice the man staring intensely at my back. He turned to the professor at the next desk, looking genuinely confused. “Why did I agree to teach this basic undergrad class?” The colleague replied nervously, “We have no idea. We all thought you would turn it down. You look terribly pale, Professor Wright. Are you okay?” Stewart kept his voice flat. “I am fine. My heart is just beating too fast. It actually hurts.” “Probably just irritated by that student.” Walking out of the academic building, I immediately texted my best friend Zoe to come over to my place for a massive celebratory feast. Thank god Stewart never let me spend his money because he was terrified I would feel burdened. The luxury townhouse, the credit cards, the sports car in the garage, everything was legally in my name. It took Zoe less than a second to accept the fact that I was a secret millionaire. “Lily, this giant bathtub, these floor-to-ceiling windows. Speaking from ten years of reading romance novels, this place is literally designed for aggressive bedroom activities.” I rubbed my chronically sore lower back and swiftly changed the subject. “I think we should order spicy lemon chicken tonight.” Zoe’s eyes lit up. “Wait, do we have a private chef here too?” I paused, reality hitting me. “I used to. Not anymore.” We ended up ordering a mountain of overpriced takeout. Honestly, it tasted like garbage compared to the meals Stewart used to cook for me. After eating my weight in carbs, I checked my phone and saw a few new messages. It was from Stewart. Professor Wright: [Miss Lily, you left your umbrella in my office. Do you want to come get it?] [I need to lock up.] Half an hour passed before he texted again. Professor Wright: [Miss Lily, who are you eating dinner with? Does it really take this long?] [Whatever. I do not actually care.] [I am working overtime today, so I will be leaving late. Come get it if you have time.] A second before Zoe leaned over to snoop, I frantically changed his contact name back to his formal title. “Since when is Professor Wright such a chatterbox?” Zoe asked, looking completely lost. After dating for so long, switching back to a normal student-teacher dynamic felt incredibly jarring. I typed back a polite response: [Sorry Professor, just saw this. Are you still there? I can come grab it now.] It was almost eleven at night. Stewart usually went back to his private lab or went straight home by now. To my shock, he replied instantly with one word: [Yes.] I stared at the screen, trying to formulate an excuse to grab it tomorrow. Zoe stopped me. “Do not do that, babe. I still have to take his makeup exam. Let us go get it right now. We can bring him a hot coffee to score some brownie points. I will go with you.” I was never good at saying no, so I caved. But the moment we reached his office door, Zoe totally chickened out. “Okay, Lily, just thinking about his scary resting bitch face is making my knees weak. You are the class rep, you go in. Give him the coffee. I will wait out here.” Before I could object, Zoe bolted down the hallway. I pushed the door open. The moment I stepped inside, the lights completely died. The campus power grid had failed again. I fumbled in the pitch black, setting the coffee down on the nearest desk, frantically digging for my phone’s flashlight. Instead, I crashed face-first into a solid wall of muscle. Before I could lose my balance, my hands instinctively wrapped around the person’s waist. Like pure muscle memory, Stewart wrapped his arms around me, pulling me flush against his chest, his lips naturally brushing against the crook of my neck. The movement was so flawless, so deeply ingrained, neither of us even thought about it. When reality finally caught up, Stewart froze completely stiff. Making it a million times worse, the lights snapped back on. We stared at each other. For the first time ever, I saw genuine, raw panic cracking through his usually flawless composure. “Sila… Professor Wright.” I almost dropped his first name. Nobody warned me how violently awkward it was to interact as strangers with someone who knew exactly what you looked like naked. “Apologies,” Stewart said, stepping back rapidly. “That was an accident.” Seeing him treat me like a biohazard triggered a sudden flashback of him acting like a giant, clingy golden retriever, constantly demanding cuddles. It seemed like as long as I did not actively pursue him, his factory-reset personality would ensure our paths never crossed again. This was for the best. Zero risk of repeating my mistakes. I walked over to the corner and grabbed my umbrella. “It is not safe at night,” Stewart said stiffly. “I will walk you back. As your professor, I have a duty of care.” I shook my head, keeping my answers vague. “No need. I live off-campus with someone.” “Who? A guy or a girl?” I blinked, genuinely thinking his memory had just snapped back. Thankfully, his tone flattened out a second later. “You do not have to answer that. I do not make a habit of prying into people’s private lives.” His pink lips moved as he spoke. Even after living with him for months, looking at that face still made my brain short-circuit. Sometimes I really wanted to slap myself for being such a sucker for a pretty face. “Goodbye, Professor.” I practically ran out of the suffocating room. Back in the office, Stewart pulled up his texts with Declan, his childhood best friend and primary doctor. [Why does my chest physically ache the second I look at that student?] Declan: [Then stop looking at her.] [It hurts worse when I am not looking at her.] Declan: [Then look at her more.] Stewart was hovering over the block button, ready to delete this quack from his life. Declan suddenly sent another text: [Bro, do you have a crush on her? Send a pic, let me see this goddess.] Stewart: [You do not deserve to look at her.] Back at the townhouse, Zoe and I curled up on the massive sofa, binging reality TV. I was just internally celebrating how peaceful it was to watch a show without a man biting my neck and demanding attention, when Zoe suddenly jumped up. “Wait, this makes no sense, Lily.” “What is it?” My stomach dropped, terrified she had found some leftover trace of Stewart hiding in the house. “We are practically filthy rich right now. Why are we sitting at home eating takeout and watching TV? We are acting like lottery winners who just bought a thousand boxes of instant ramen.” Zoe wiggled her eyebrows, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “Let us go to a club tomorrow. Find some tragic, broken college boy and buy him an expensive drink.” “I do not know…” I bit my lip, trying to hide my smile. “I guess I should go pick out a cute dress.” Ever since I started dating Stewart, my freedom to look at attractive men was instantly revoked. If I stared at the cute barista at the coffee shop for more than two seconds, he would spiral into a jealous panic. “Baby, do you like younger guys now? I am four years older than you. Do you think I am getting old and ugly?” I would genuinely try to comfort him. “But you are so handsome.” Stewart would immediately turn around, buy a premium membership at a med-spa, and secretly write in his diary: [This face is my only leverage. There are too many man-whores out there trying to steal my wife. I need to keep her on a tighter leash.] When we arrived at the most exclusive club in the city, Zoe pulled out a breath spray. “Want some, babe?” I shook my head immediately. Because I loved strawberries, Stewart exclusively used strawberry-flavored everything. I practically had PTSD whenever I smelled it now. Zoe dragged me through the sweaty crowd straight to the front of the stage to watch the live band. The lead singer had these gorgeous, flirty eyes. He kept looking my way, winking at me throughout the set. When the song ended, the guy unstrapped his guitar and walked straight up to me through the deafening cheers. “You guys sounded great,” I offered awkwardly. “You completely ignored me up there, pretty girl,” he teased, flashing two deep dimples. He had that perfect, golden-retriever boy-next-door energy. It was contagious. I was just about to reply when a heavy, chilling sensation crept down my spine. Turning around, I found Stewart staring at me, his gaze dark and suffocating.

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1 The week my phone nearly vibrated itself into oblivion, I was at a competitor’s office, getting up to speed on their operations. This whole mess started with my company’s absurd new policy. They took six years of my work data—every client interaction, every successful pitch, every closed deal—and fed it to an AI to create my “digital twin.” From that day on, my digital twin handled all online tasks. I, the original, was relegated to offline schmoozing, wining and dining clients. Last month, I closed a massive seven-figure deal. Under the old system, my commission should have been at least ten thousand dollars. But when I got my pay stub, the number made my head spin: $960. I stormed into the finance department, convinced there had been a mistake. The finance director didn’t even bother to look up. She glanced at the paper, tossed it back at me, and said in a voice as cold as ice, “There’s no mistake. New company policy. Your digital twin closed the deal online. It gets ninety percent of the commission. You get ten.” She then added, with a syrupy, condescending smile, “You just have a few drinks with clients every now and then. Pulling in almost a grand a month for that? What’s there to be unhappy about?” I was the one who had brought in over seventy percent of the company’s revenue. And she had the audacity to call me lazy. I quit on the spot. And I took the two-million-dollar deal that was on the verge of being signed with me. My next stop was their biggest competitor. … I’d been chasing that million-dollar contract with Apex Corp. for half a year. I remembered sitting at the dinner table with their CEO, Mr. Carter, when he clapped me on the shoulder and said, “Sophie, if it were anyone else handling this, I wouldn’t sign.” But just because the final contract link was sent by my digital twin, it got ninety percent of the credit? My $10,000 commission shrank to a pathetic $960? “What, you think that’s too little?” Seeing my dissatisfaction, Vivian, the finance director, scowled. “I just explained it to you, didn’t I?” she snapped. “From the initial contact and needs assessment to the final contract negotiation, your digital twin handled everything. All you did was meet Mr. Carter a few times and treat him to a few meals on the company’s dime. You should be grateful you’re getting nine hundred bucks at all!” Vivian was the CEO Mark’s sister-in-law, parachuted into the company as CFO three months ago. Her first order of business was a brutal cost-cutting and efficiency initiative, which led to the rollout of the AI digital twins. It started small. They fed all the code written by a few of their programmers into an AI, creating digital versions of them. Then, they “optimized” the human programmers—by firing them—and had the AI write the code. When that proved successful, saving them a few salaries, the floodgates opened. Now, most of the company’s backend developers and customer service reps were gone. All that remained were a few fresh-faced college grads to handle basic maintenance. The once-bustling office floor was now a ghost town of empty desks. My former colleagues were gone, but their digital twins remained, tirelessly working for the company. As a frontline sales rep, I was feeling the pain most acutely. I had spent years building a rapport with our tech team. I could give them a vague description, and they’d instantly grasp what I needed. Now, I was dealing with AI counterparts that couldn’t understand plain English. The demos they produced for clients weren’t just a little off; they were completely irrelevant. My workload skyrocketed. I was spending every waking moment micromanaging these digital morons, constantly correcting their work. I complained to Mark. He just smiled his usual placid smile. “Sophie, AI is the future. As a tech company, we have to be on the cutting edge. There are always going to be some growing pains. You’ll get used to it.” He even tried to reassure me. “Don’t worry, we’re monitoring the situation. The issues you’ve raised will be resolved soon.” I never imagined his solution would be to distill me into a digital twin and have it interface with the tech twins. 2 Now the problem started at the source. On top of my usual client management, I spent every remaining second of my day chasing down project updates and cleaning up the messes made by the digital twins. But in Vivian’s eyes, I was just slacking off, enjoying lavish meals on the company’s dime and still expecting a $960 cut. As if I’d won the lottery. “What, am I wrong?!” she sneered. “The company invested money and resources to build you this digital twin to handle client communication. Do you have any idea how much work that saves you? And instead of being grateful for the company’s investment, you have the nerve to complain that we’re not paying you enough! You think we owe you something?” She was warming up now. “Go on, ask around. Find me one other salesperson who makes nearly a grand a month just for having a few dinners. You’re just pulling rank because you’ve been here a while.” Her voice rose with every word. “Honestly, clients sign with us because of the strength of our products. You really think it’s all because of you? Anyone could do what you do now. I could hire a fresh college grad—prettier, younger, more obedient, and a hell of a lot cheaper. Take the money or get out!” Six years. I had given six years of my life to CloudForge. I was the top seller for four consecutive years. Many of my clients were people I had cultivated since my very first day. If Vivian had ever spent a single day in sales, she would never have said something so ignorant. She thought our products were so good that clients would just line up to sign? She never stopped to consider why, among dozens of similar companies, they chose CloudForge. My clients weren’t loyal to the product; they were loyal to me, Sophie. She had no idea the lengths I went to for them. It wasn’t just about being on call 24/7 for project updates. It was about helping them when their parents were sick, picking up their kids from school, giving them advice on home renovations, even feeding their pets when they were out of town. If they called, I was there, no questions asked. Holidays, birthdays, weddings, funerals—I showed up for all of it. My clients were my friends. Our relationship went far beyond a simple business transaction. But in Vivian’s world, none of that mattered. Honestly, I had been thinking about leaving ever since they “optimized” the tech team. I only stayed out of a sense of loyalty. But if she really thought anyone could do my job, then fine. Let her try. “So, the company is firing me?” Seeing that I understood, Vivian nodded without hesitation. “That’s right. We have no place for ungrateful employees who have no sense of discipline and can’t even be bothered to clock in.” 3 I laughed to myself. I’m in sales. If I sat in the office clocking in and out every day, where the hell did she think all their contracts came from? “Fine. Then please provide me with a written termination notice. According to labor laws, since the company is terminating my employment, you’re required to pay N+1 severance. I’ve been here for six years. I’ll leave as soon as the payment is processed.” “Severance?” Vivian took a long, noisy sip of her bubble tea and looked at me as if I were a joke. “Why should you get severance? You’re the one who wants to quit. What does that have to do with the company? We did you a favor by reducing your workload with a digital twin, and now you have the gall to ask me for money?” She waved a dismissive hand. “Forget it. You’re not getting a single cent. And if you push this, I’ll make sure everyone in this industry knows what kind of person you are. Let’s see who’ll be brave enough to hire you then.” With that, she shooed me away. I was about to argue further when my phone rang. It was Mr. Carter. He said communicating with “me” online was confusing and he wanted to meet in person. No doubt, my digital twin was screwing things up again. Even though I was quitting, I couldn’t just walk away from Mr. Carter after he’d just signed the deal. It wasn’t right. I arranged a time to meet him and went back to my desk to pack my things. As I did, I heard Vivian’s venomous voice behind me. “A real thankless snake. All she cares about is money.” I ignored her and walked back to my desk. My apprentice, Emily, looked at me with worried eyes. “Sophie, what did Vivian say? Was the pay stub a mistake?” I shook my head and told her everything Vivian had said. Not just Emily, but several other salespeople overheard and gathered around my desk, their faces a mixture of shock and outrage. “What? That’s insane! A ninety-ten split with no warning? You can’t run a business like that!” “Are they going to make a digital twin of me next? If so, I’m out of here.” “Seriously. Our base salary is nothing. We live on commission. Who’s going to be motivated to close deals with a policy like this?” As they were talking, the sharp click-clack of high heels approached from behind. It was Vivian. The faces of my colleagues instantly paled. They scrambled back to their desks, heads down. Vivian barked at them, “What do you all think you’re doing? It’s work hours! Stop gossiping and get back to it!” Then her glare landed on me. “Sophie, let me warn you. Don’t think you’re hot stuff just because you’ve closed a few deals. I can’t stand old dogs like you who think they own the place. I’m docking five hundred from your salary this month. And if I catch you spreading rumors in this office again, you’re fired!” 4 I looked at her, my face a mask of calm. “What did I say that wasn’t true? The company did it, but I’m not allowed to talk about it? What right do you have to dock my pay? If you can’t stand the sight of me, just pay my severance, and I’ll be gone in a heartbeat.” “You really think I can’t touch you!” she shrieked, slamming her hand on my desk. I was done arguing. I grabbed my bag and walked out. I wasn’t afraid of her. But facing Mr. Carter, I felt a pang of guilt. I had promised him I would personally oversee his project, and now, I was leaving. “Mr. Carter, I’m afraid I won’t be able to continue managing your project,” I began. “But don’t worry, I’ll entrust it to my most capable colleague. And if you run into any communication issues, you can still contact me anytime.” I added, “The contract also clearly states that if you’re not satisfied with the first version the company delivers, you can cancel the contract at any time.” To my surprise, Mr. Carter was less interested in the project and more interested in my resignation. “Sophie, you’re really quitting?” His voice was filled with excitement. “Then come work for me! Be my sales director. You know how many times I’ve tried to poach you.” I laughed, feeling a little overwhelmed. I told him I’d think about it and headed back to the office. When I walked in, I found my desk completely empty. “Where are my things?” I asked Emily. She pointed, her face flushed with indignation. “Vivian said your presence was bad for team morale. She moved all your stuff… over there.” I turned. A new desk had been set up right next to the restrooms. All my belongings were haphazardly thrown into a cardboard box on top of it. Vivian emerged from her office, arms crossed, leaning against a partition with a smug look on her face. “So, how does our sales champion like her new office? You’re the one who said salespeople have flexible hours and are rarely in the office. I figured you wouldn’t mind where you sat.” I gave the desk a single glance and walked straight to Mark’s office. Mark was an alum from my university. When he was starting his company, he begged me to join him. Out of loyalty to our shared alma mater, I turned down several better offers to join his tiny startup, operating out of a cramped residential apartment. For six long years, I helped him build the company to where it was today: a full floor in a prime commercial skyscraper. I needed to know if this was all Vivian’s doing, or if she was acting with his approval. 5 After I explained the situation, Mark leaned back in his plush leather chair, his expression a mask of friendly concern. “Sophie, it hasn’t been easy getting the company to this point. You know how tough the market is this year. When Vivian proposed the cost-cutting measures, I’ll admit, I thought it was a good idea.” He continued, his tone patient and patronizing. “You’re a veteran employee. You should be setting an example, supporting the company’s decisions. This is just a temporary difficulty. The change in commission structure is mainly for our long-term clients. If you work harder and bring in new clients, the commission rates will be the same as before.” Then he delivered the final blow. “To be frank, you’ve been slacking a bit lately. You haven’t been aggressive enough in developing new business. You can’t just rest on your laurels and live off the company’s existing resources.” Vivian walked in and sat down next to him, rolling her eyes at me. “Exactly. These old clients are company assets. You got a commission when you first signed them; you can’t expect to get paid every time they renew. You’re just a parasite, sucking the company dry and acting like you’re entitled to it.” I looked at Mark. He said nothing, but his expression was one of clear agreement. I’m in sales. Reading people is my specialty. And in that moment, I knew. This was all his idea. Vivian was just his hatchet man. He wanted me gone, and the reason was simple. The company was stable now, with a steady client base. I was no longer the hungry go-getter bringing in new business. In his eyes, my usefulness had expired. It was time to put me out to pasture. My salary was the highest outside of the management team, which made me target number one. But he was being incredibly naive. “Sophie, let’s not use such harsh words,” Mark said, his smile never wavering. “Look, this is the company’s policy now. If you really can’t accept it and choose to resign, there’s nothing I can do. For old times’ sake, I can give you an extra two months’ salary. A personal gesture from me. How does that sound?” Vivian sneered from the side. “Tsk, tsk. Look at you, managing to squeeze even more out of him. The company invests so much in you, and all you think about is money. It’s only because my brother-in-law is so soft-hearted. Any other company would have fired an old leech like you ages ago.” One played good cop, the other bad cop. My heart had already turned to ice. For the past month, coordinating projects and cleaning up after those digital twins, I had been running on less than six hours of sleep a night. Since they were so confident in their AI, fine. Let them try. But as a final courtesy, I offered one last piece of advice. “The work produced by the communication between those AI twins is completely different from what the clients actually want. When two AIs interface directly, the margin of error is huge. You need a human to constantly monitor and adjust.” Vivian burst out laughing. “Sophie, you’re on your way out the door. Why are you still trying to make yourself seem important? So, the high-tech, big-data system we built is useless, but you running to the tech department and causing trouble is useful? The clients haven’t complained. Stop trying to make yourself out to be some kind of hero.” Mark wasn’t listening either. He just waved his hand dismissively. “Alright, Sophie. The company will take your concerns into consideration. Just sign the papers. Finance will process your payment. That’s all. Just make sure you hand over your work properly.” Listen or not, my conscience was clear. I could already picture the clients’ fury when they saw the final product. The Apex Corp. project would have already gone off the rails if I hadn’t been watching it like a hawk. Honestly, I was morbidly curious to see what kind of monstrosity the digital twins would create without my constant intervention. The Apex contract had a specific clause: if the project was not delivered on time due to the contractor’s fault, the penalty would be ten times the contract amount. The contract was for one million dollars. The delivery date was less than half a month away. If they failed, they would be facing a ten-million-dollar penalty. I completed my resignation paperwork. The moment I signed, a look of immense relief washed over Mark’s face. He stood up and clapped me on the shoulder, a little too cheerfully. “Great. No hard feelings. We’ll still be friends. Feel free to stop by anytime.” I forced a smile and said, “Sure.” Knowing Mark and Vivian, I knew my warnings would be completely ignored. After packing up my things, I left the office and bought myself a plane ticket to the Maldives. After years of grinding at CloudForge, I was exhausted. I deserved a real vacation. I spent three glorious days soaking up the sun. Then, Vivian’s call came. She didn’t even say hello, just launched into a tirade. “Sophie! What the hell did you promise Mr. Gunn from Apex? Our tech team has been sending him drafts for days, and he’s rejected every single one!” Her voice was a shrill shriek. “Where are you? Get back here right now! You signed this contract; you need to come back and fix this until he’s satisfied!” I lounged on my beach chair, pushing my sunglasses up onto my head. “Sorry, Vivian. I’ve resigned. I’m on vacation in the Maldives. I don’t think I can make it back.” Her voice was so sharp it could have shattered glass. “Vacation! You haven’t even completed your handover! Who gave you permission to go on vacation? I’m telling you, if this contract defaults because of you, you will be held fully responsible!” So noisy. “I warned you that the project needed human oversight,” I said coldly. “You chose not to listen. That’s on you. I’ve already left. Your little manipulation tactics won’t work on me anymore.” With that, I turned off my phone. I enjoyed three more days of blissful silence. When I finally turned it back on, the phone vibrated so violently it nearly jumped out of my hand. 999+ missed calls. My chat apps had exploded. Most were from Mark and Vivian. There were also a few messages from Emily. [Sophie, Mark and Vivian have been looking for you like crazy.] [Mr. Gunn from Apex came to the office and went ballistic. He said if we can’t deliver something satisfactory, he’s suing us for the ten-million-dollar penalty.] A second later, Mark’s call came through.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “439045”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I committed suicide. On Christmas Eve, a time meant for family reunions. But I never expected that my ex-husband, who had never cared about me while I was alive, would go completely insane after my death, ruthlessly seeking revenge against everyone who had ever mistreated me. He even tried to take his own life to join me. Yet, when I was alive, he clearly didn’t love me at all. 01 Right now, in my newly minted ghost form, I stood next to my own corpse. The Reaper stood in front of me, flipping through a thick, leather-bound Ledger of Souls. “What is your name?” “Audrey,” I replied, eager for him to take my soul away so I could be reincarnated into a decent family for my next life. But the Reaper’s gaze lingered on the ledger for a long time. Finally, he looked up at me. “Your time isn’t up yet, and you have a baby in your belly. Why did you kill yourself?” I glanced down at my pale, lifeless body soaking in the bathtub. “I didn’t want to live anymore, so I ended it.” The Reaper looked so angry his jaw actually twitched. He tapped the ledger in his hand. “Do you realize that committing suicide before your time is up is like calling 911 for a fake emergency? It’s highly unethical! Furthermore, the child inside you was meant to have a brand-new life, and now, because of you, they will never be born!” God as my witness, when I took my own life, I had absolutely no idea I was pregnant. But hearing his lecture, I frowned. “Why are there so many rules for dying?” The Reaper softened his tone. “Life still has many beautiful things waiting for you to experience. Be a good girl, listen to me, and get back into your body.” I thought of my bloodsucking, cruel parents. I thought of my entitled sister and my spoiled brother. And I thought of my ex-husband’s perpetually cold, indifferent face. My resolve was absolute. “There is absolutely nothing beautiful in my life. Just drag me away. I’d rather be a dog or a cat in my next life.” No matter how the Reaper tried to persuade me, I refused to return to my body. Finally, he sighed. “Processing reincarnation paperwork for someone whose time isn’t up is incredibly difficult. How about this: I’ll give you thirty days. You can stay in the human world as a ghost. If, by the end of the month, you still haven’t found a single reason to live, I’ll process your paperwork.” I thought about it and agreed. It wasn’t every day you got to be a ghost. Roaming the earth with zero responsibilities sounded pretty good. 02 On my first day as a ghost, I sat on the windowsill and watched the city lights glow through the night. The phone I had left by the bathtub was filled with mass-sent holiday texts. Out of the hundreds of contacts in my phone, not a single person genuinely reached out to me on Christmas Eve. Just as the holiday specials on TV were coming to an end, my phone finally buzzed. I floated over to look. It was my awful ex-husband. He sent a photo. It was a cardboard box stuffed with a few of my old clothes and half-used makeup products. The text read: “Your trash. You have one day to get it out of here. Don’t dirty my house.” My ex-husband was Grayson Lockwood. True to his reputation, he was a cold, ruthless, and calculating CEO. He inherited the family business at a young age, and within a few short years, he multiplied their revenue exponentially. The business world hailed him as a prodigy. His looks were even more undeniable. When he first took over the company, skeptics mocked him, saying he should just use his face to make a living in Hollywood. But even perfect people have flaws. His flaw was that he didn’t love me. He had a high school sweetheart, his “white moonlight,” while I was merely a childhood promise made by his mother. My family used to be wealthy, but unfortunately, we went bankrupt during my senior year of high school. I had an entitled older sister, a spoiled younger brother, and parents who heavily favored their son. When we went bankrupt, my sister, who was studying abroad in Paris, felt no impact whatsoever. Meanwhile, my parents constantly lectured me: “Business is bad right now, Audrey. You need to be understanding.” I busted my back earning scholarships and working part-time jobs while juggling my studies, terrified of being a burden. Yet, in the blink of an eye, my parents sent my useless younger brother to an expensive prep school overseas, spending fifty thousand dollars a year without batting an eye. While I was working at a local fast-food joint making fifteen bucks an hour, my brother was partying on yachts. While I was sweating in a heavy mascot costume passing out flyers in the summer heat, my sister was skiing in the Swiss Alps. It seemed that the only person affected by our family’s bankruptcy was me. During my senior year of college, my parents clung to Grayson as their lifeline. When Grayson’s mother was pregnant with him, she was in a severe car accident. My parents found her and rushed her to the hospital, saving both her and the unborn Grayson. Seeing that my mother was also pregnant at the time, and noting my parents’ good looks, she promised an arranged marriage between their future children. We all thought it was just a joke, but during my senior year, Grayson’s mother became terminally ill. On her deathbed, she remembered the promise she made in her youth. So, she came looking for our family. 03 For my bankrupt family, this was like winning the lottery. Logically, the promise was meant for my older sister. But at the time, my sister was happily dating a rich guy in Paris. Grayson had just taken over his company, and rumors said he was just a pretty face with no real skill. My sister adamantly refused to marry him. And so, I, the designated scapegoat, was shoved onto the altar. I got my marriage certificate before I even got my college diploma. When I applied for graduation, the marriage certificate actually counted as two extracurricular credits. I smiled bitterly. I guess that was a silver lining. Grayson didn’t like me. I knew that from the very beginning. The day we got our marriage license, Grayson’s mother held my hand as we waited outside City Hall for half an hour. When he finally arrived, he merely glanced at me, then turned to his mother. “Something came up at work. I’m late.” After that, he didn’t look at me once. So, I always knew. He didn’t love me. 04 I sat on the balcony, letting the cold winter wind blow through me, watching the warm lights of the city. The deep sense of loss that followed my suicide slowly washed over me. I thought about playing a depressing Spotify playlist to set the mood, but unfortunately, I couldn’t physically touch my phone anymore. Just as I was contemplating where to float off to next, the phone in my bathroom started ringing incessantly. I drifted over. It was Grayson. We had just finalized our divorce papers the day before yesterday. He had told me there were still some asset distributions to sort out, so I shouldn’t block his number yet. I knew his personality. He was decisive and ruthless. I figured he just wanted to sever all ties as quickly as possible so we’d never have to speak again. But why was he calling me so many times right now? I didn’t understand. He called my number, then called me on FaceTime, over and over again. The ringing was getting on my nerves. I debated whether I could somehow knock the phone into the bathtub. But as a newly minted ghost, I was too weak to interact with physical objects. So I just stared as the phone rang endlessly. Over half an hour later, the phone finally fell silent. 05 The texts from my parents arrived early the next morning. My mom wrote: “It’s not that we’re being cruel by not letting you come home for the holidays. If you just go beg Grayson to remarry you, we’ll let you come home to celebrate.” When I first brought up divorcing Grayson, my parents were the loudest opponents. Because as long as I was married to him—even if he didn’t love me—he would offer our family financial support just for the sake of the marriage certificate. Lockwood Enterprises was a massive empire. With a wave of his hand, he could resurrect our family’s failing business. If I divorced him, we would lose our golden goose. During our mandatory separation period before the divorce finalized, my parents stormed into my apartment countless times to talk me out of it. When I refused to budge, my dad slapped me across the face, calling me an ungrateful brat, screaming that a divorced woman would never be able to marry again. But the day before yesterday, I stubbornly went to City Hall with Grayson and finalized the divorce. Just like when we got married five years ago, Grayson made me wait alone at City Hall for hours before finally showing up. He signed the papers without a word, got back into his obscenely expensive sports car, and sped off without a trace of emotion. The tires hit a puddle, splashing dirty water all over me. I pressed my lips together, forcing back the tears threatening to spill. I thought, since it was almost Christmas, I’d buy some groceries and gifts and go home after getting the divorce certificate. But I was locked out. My parents kicked me out. The look my mother gave me was pure vitriol. “You have the nerve to come back? You know our business is only surviving because of the Lockwoods. You divorcing him—are you trying to kill me?!” I looked down at the groceries scattered across the porch. Years of accumulated grief and exhaustion crashed over me. With tears streaming down my face, I looked at my biological parents. “What about me? Have I not done enough?” I ignored their curses, turned around, and walked away. At that exact moment, I made the decision to end my life. I suddenly wanted to know: if they found out I was dead, would they regret everything they had done to me? 06 Christmas Day. Every household was bursting with joy. My apartment was also quite “festive.” I sat on the bathroom counter, staring at myself soaking in the bathtub. The entire bathroom was tinted a stark, deep red. Aside from being a bit horrifying, the color was undeniably festive. Around 8 AM, the neighborhood started waking up. The neighbor next door was baking cookies; I could hear the clattering of baking sheets. The family downstairs seemed to be roasting a Christmas ham. The savory smell wafted up through the vents. I rubbed my belly, suddenly remembering that I hadn’t eaten a single thing for two whole days before I died. I had chugged a bottle of red wine and just lay down in the tub. Smelling the food now, I regretted not having a full meal before killing myself. Dying on Christmas was bad enough, but becoming a starving ghost was just insulting. As I debated whether to float next door to watch them bake or go downstairs to check on the ham, there was a knock at my front door. Who would visit me today? I mentally scanned my social circle. After college, I became a full-time housewife. I lost touch with all my old friends, and I never fit in with the wealthy socialite wives. I practically had no friends at all. Was it an Amazon delivery? While racking my brain trying to remember if I had any pending orders, I floated to the door. I looked through the peephole, and when I saw who was outside, I froze. Why was Grayson Lockwood standing at my door? 07 Through the peephole, I saw Grayson’s handsome face twisted with intense impatience. He pounded on the door aggressively, then repeatedly jammed his finger into the doorbell. “Audrey, don’t think throwing a tantrum is going to get my attention. That trick won’t work on me.” Grayson’s voice carried clearly through the heavy door. I was terrified of his negative moods. No matter how happy I felt moments prior, the second he appeared and frowned, I felt like the sky was falling. Before I married him, my parents had drilled it into my head: Never make Grayson mad. Our family’s survival depended entirely on whether Grayson was willing to throw us a lifeline for the sake of our marriage. The night before the wedding, my mother packed my bags and warned me: “Once you move in, you need to learn how to please Grayson and his family. Your sister and brother still need money for school. You have to think about them.” I stared down at my bridal shoes, pressed my lips together, and stayed silent. If it weren’t for the wedding, I would have been at work that day, earning my eighty-dollar shift pay. Because of that conditioning, throughout our marriage, no matter what happened, if I sensed Grayson was upset, I would immediately apologize. Eventually, I couldn’t even tell who was right or wrong anymore. Brainwashed by my parents, I believed that if Grayson was angry, it meant I was at fault. So even now, as a ghost, seeing Grayson standing outside my door looking so pissed off, my first instinct was that I had done something wrong and needed to apologize to him. But the current me couldn’t respond to his anger anymore. Failing to get a response, Grayson grew even more furious. He called me several more times. My phone, sitting in the bathroom, rang out with my usual ringtone. This apartment was a pre-wedding gift from Grayson’s mother. She was a good person. She told me: “Even though I’m the one asking you to marry my son, I worry you might suffer in this marriage. I want to give you a safe haven.” It was a modest two-bedroom apartment. The phone was in the master bathroom, but I could clearly hear it ringing from the front door. Grayson heard it too. He slammed his palm against the door. “Fine, Audrey. Keep hiding. I hope you hide for the rest of your life. Don’t ever let me see your face again. I left your things at the door. Don’t ever come back to my house looking for them.” He hung up, kicked something on the ground, and stormed off. I hid behind the door, not daring to breathe. People say humans are afraid of ghosts, but here I was, a literal ghost, terrified of the man standing outside. I really was pathetic. 08 I peeked out the window, watching Grayson’s car drive away, before I dared to float out the door. He had brought over the few clothes and cosmetics I had forgotten to pack when I moved out. There wasn’t much; it all fit into one cardboard box. Grayson hadn’t even bothered to fold them. He just shoved everything haphazardly into the box. I crouched down and looked at it. Having my “trash” dumped at my front door for all the neighbors to see felt a little humiliating. I tried to reach out and lift the box, but my hands phased right through the cardboard. Grayson, you absolute bastard! I made a vow right then and there: I was going to stand by his bed tonight and haunt the living daylights out of him. 09 Twenty-four hours after my death, I stood by Grayson’s bed. I had bumped into the ghost of a woman who had jumped off a building in my complex. She told me that, as a brand-new ghost, I didn’t have the power to knock over water glasses or make noises to scare people like the older ghosts did. My only option was to wait until he fell asleep, when his life force was weakest, and haunt his dreams. At 1:00 AM, I hovered over his bed, but it was empty. Grayson was still working in his home office. I let out a yawn, quietly reflecting: If you want to wear the crown, you have to bear the weight. Being a CEO clearly wasn’t a job just anyone could handle. I stretched and floated into the home office. To my surprise, he wasn’t working. He was sitting at his desk, deep in thought. Grayson’s personality was cold and detached, and his house’s color scheme reflected that—stark blacks, whites, and grays. The office was no exception. He only had a small desk lamp turned on. Half of his sculpted face was hidden in the shadows, the other half illuminated by the cold light, making him look even more unreadable. His eyes were lowered. The computer screen was bright. From his expression, he exuded a heavy, palpable melancholy. I floated behind him and accidentally glanced at his screen. He wasn’t working at all. It was his iMessage chat with Serena. Serena had texted: “I’m flying back to the States on the 8th.” Grayson replied briefly: “What time is your flight? I’ll come pick you up.” Serena gave him her flight number and arrival time. Grayson said: “Okay.” Grayson had always been like this. Whatever Serena asked of him, he would do everything in his power to fulfill it. I stood behind him, reading this brief exchange. The suffocating feeling of my heart being squeezed tight was still there, though it was significantly less painful than the very first time I learned of Serena’s existence. 10 Serena was Grayson’s first love, the “white moonlight” he tragically missed out on. I found this out six months into our marriage. During the second semester of my senior year, I married Grayson. Even though I had latched onto the Lockwood empire, the blatant favoritism I suffered growing up taught me that true security only comes from building your own path. So, I declined his mother’s offer to stay home as a full-time socialite wife and instead took an internship at a corporate firm. The internship was brutal. I had a brown-nosing manager, and one of the other interns in my group was a wealthy heir. I ended up doing the work of two people, while the rich kid took the majority of the credit. Grayson was incredible—brilliant and devastatingly handsome. I had never dated anyone before. Being married to him and sharing a bed with him, it was inevitable that I would fall for him. Because of that, the exhaustion and injustice of my internship would instantly vanish the moment I saw his face. Back then, I thought: I have such an amazing husband, what do I have to be sad about? One night, I worked late and came home exhausted. Grayson was already in the shower. He traveled for business constantly and rarely came home. Even when he did, he was polite but distant. Still, his being home made me happy. I sat nervously on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to finish showering. While I waited, his phone, tossed carelessly on the duvet, started ringing. The shower was still running. I walked to the bathroom door and called out to tell him his phone was ringing, but he didn’t answer. I picked it up and saw it was an international number. Grayson’s business was global, and he had introduced me to several of his foreign partners at galas. I assumed it was a business associate. As his legal wife, I felt I had the right to answer the phone for him. But when I answered, a young woman’s drunk, coquettish voice came through the speaker. I froze, confused, and asked, “Excuse me, who is this?” The girl on the other end reacted even more strongly than I did: “Who are you? Why do you have Grayson’s phone?” She called him Grayson. In the six months we had been married, I didn’t even dare to call him by his first name during our most intimate moments, yet she said it so naturally. I composed myself and replied, “Hello, I am Grayson’s wife. May I ask what this is regarding?” The girl sounded like she had just heard something impossible. Just as I was about to speak again, the shower turned off. Grayson stormed out wearing only a towel and snatched the phone from my hand. I will never forget the ice in his eyes. He looked at me like I was a complete stranger. “Why did you touch my phone?” 11 A woman’s intuition told me immediately that the girl’s relationship with him was far from ordinary. That night, Grayson didn’t sleep at home. He didn’t offer a single word of explanation. He just took the call, grabbed his keys, and drove off. Later, I learned from Grayson’s mother that the girl’s name was Serena. She was his childhood sweetheart, his untouchable white moonlight. Serena was a perfect, wealthy heiress, beautiful and brilliant. She was the one unforgettable ray of light in Grayson’s dark, struggling teenage years. But because Grayson was struggling to prove himself at the time, they tragically missed their chance. After Serena went abroad for college, Grayson slowly learned the ropes of the business world from his father, eventually becoming the prodigy he was today. Serena had cycled through several boyfriends, but Grayson had always remained single. People in their social circle whispered that even if Grayson was married, if Serena made one phone call, he would abandon his bride at the altar to run to her. Unfortunately, I was the sacrificial bride in their epic, romantic love story—the collateral damage used to prove the depth of the male lead’s devotion. 12 Because I answered Serena’s phone call, Grayson was furious. His punishment for me was to personally head overseas to expand a new market. For nearly an entire year, he never came back to see me. Grayson was a golden god among men. Even though it was an arranged marriage, I still inevitably fell deeply in love with him. But that year of absolute silence made me realize there was an uncrossable chasm between us. The chasm was built on family background, life experience, and worldview… but the biggest factor of all was Serena. Knowing full well he was intentionally distancing himself from me because of her, my bloodsucking parents still used our family’s failing business as an excuse to relentlessly pressure me into asking him for money. My mother said, “I know you’re Mrs. Lockwood now. If you just have a baby, your position will be secure. But that’s still his family. You only have true leverage if your own family is strong. If you guys ever fight, you need a place to come back to.” During our time apart, I sent Grayson countless texts—sharing trivial details of my day, asking about his well-being. If he was in a good mood, he might reply with a brief, one-sentence answer. But mostly, my messages vanished into the void. Forced by my parents’ demands, I finally had to swallow my pride and call him. Terrified of interrupting his sleep, I calculated the time difference perfectly to call during his lunch break, which meant it was the middle of the night for me. But when I carefully made my request, Grayson merely scoffed on the other end of the line. His tone was dripping with mockery: “Audrey, are you willing to stay married to anyone, as long as they pay you?” His words plunged me into a freezing abyss. 13 I watched Grayson sitting in his office, brooding over Serena’s text messages. I felt a complicated mix of emotions, but my resolve to haunt him only grew stronger. I floated up to his ear, puffed out my cheeks, and blew a gust of cold air right at him. I saw a ghost do this to a poor scholar in a classic horror movie once. Turns out, the method was highly effective. The usually stoic Grayson whipped his head around, coming face-to-face with me blowing air at him. My heart skipped a beat, and I felt a sudden, inexplicable guilt. Grayson scanned the room. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, he reached out and closed the chat window on his laptop. He leaned back heavily in his chair, pinched the bridge of his nose, and let out a long, exhausted sigh. I didn’t get it. His white moonlight was coming back, why was he acting so depressed? Did he think that after five years of marriage with me, he was somehow “tainted” and unworthy of Serena? The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I clenched my fist and slammed it against the bookshelf behind him. It was just an instinctual reaction born of anger, but I didn’t expect it to actually knock a book off the shelf. It was a thick, heavy hardcover. The loud thud it made when it hit the floor startled both of us. I was shocked because: I could actually touch physical objects?! Grayson was shocked because: Why did a book just fall off the shelf? Is this place haunted? We both looked down at the floor simultaneously. Photographs that had been tucked inside the book scattered across the rug. I looked closely and realized they were photos of me, mixed with a couple of awkward pictures of Grayson and me together. I remembered then—before his mother died, she forced us to take a trip to the beach. Under her strict supervision, Grayson reluctantly posed for a few pictures with me. His mother had the photos printed and gave us each a set. Her intention was for Grayson to frame them and put them on his desk at work. I had framed my set and placed them in the most prominent spot in my apartment. But I never imagined Grayson would hide his set this deeply. “You bastard. Does looking at these pictures disgust you that much?” As Grayson bent down to pick up the photos, I couldn’t hold back. I swiped my hand again. This time, I knocked his water glass off the desk, sending it shattering onto the floor. Leaving a bewildered Grayson behind, I floated out the window and headed back to my own apartment. Hmph. If you think my photos are bad luck, I’ll show you something truly horrific. 14 I had insomnia. Ghosts don’t die from pulling all-nighters, so I just laid on the sofa, letting the negative emotions wash over me. Turns out, even becoming a ghost doesn’t save you from late-night existential dread. Thirty-five hours after my death, my older sister texted me. I was so bored, floating around the apartment trying to figure out what to do, when my phone in the bathroom chimed. I darted over, wondering who was looking for me. But as soon as I entered the bathroom, my own “corpse” scared the living daylights out of me. Soaking bloodless in a tub of crimson water—even I found it incredibly eerie and terrifying. “Eww.” I suddenly regretted choosing this method. On the phone screen was a text from my sister. She wrote: “Grayson came by the house early this morning with Christmas gifts. He asked if you had come home. Audrey, I’m your sister, I wouldn’t steer you wrong. Remarrying Grayson is the best thing for you and for our family. Stop being so stubborn.” Five minutes later, she sent another: “Do you know who Grayson is? The fact that he brought gifts to check on us after the divorce shows he still cares. Audrey, when you’re given an out, take it immediately.” My sister was three years older than me. When we were kids, I completely idolized her. I thought she was amazing, smart, and whenever there was a school play or talent show, she was always the shining star. When I was little, I just thought she was exceptional. As I got older, I started to realize the truth: why did my parents enroll her in expensive piano and dance classes, while I was only allowed to take the cheapest art club after school? And when the family business started going under, the first thing they cut was my cheap art club. My parents’ blatant favoritism chipped away at my idolization of her. And my sister seemed to revel in their favoritism, treating me like her personal servant as a matter of right. In high school, she made me deliver a love letter to the school’s bad boy. I got cornered in an alley by a group of mean girls who liked him. She happened to walk past, glanced at me getting pushed around, and just kept walking. When I came home bruised and scraped, she told me to lie to our parents and ordered me not to tell them she had written the letter. We ended up at the same university, but by the time I was a freshman, she was already studying abroad in Paris. She was an outstanding alumna, invited back to speak at the university’s anniversary gala. Across the crowded auditorium, she made eye contact with me but pretended not to know me. When I went home, she looked at me with disgust and said, “Audrey, can you please try to dress better? If people find out my sister looks this pathetic, I’ll die of embarrassment.” I smiled bitterly on the inside. Why did I look so pathetic? Didn’t she know exactly why? My suicide… she definitely played a part in it.

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