Category: English

After taking over my father’s company, my best friend Maya insisted we act out her favorite CEO romance fantasy. I rented an entire amusement park for the night, ready to set off fireworks just for her. But as the first rocket was about to launch, a woman clutching a child burst from the bushes. Maya screamed, “Holy crap, is that a ghost from a daytime drama? Babe, save me!” The woman grabbed my leg, tears and snot covering her face. “You promised to come back and marry me when you succeeded! Why have you been gone three years? Who is she? Are you abandoning me and our son?” I froze, one hand touching my short, boyish haircut—cut to avoid an arranged marriage. Her desperation grew. “When we were together, you said I was the most beautiful woman alive! Now that our child is born, you pretend not to know me?” Before I could speak, her toddler wiped snot all over my pants. “Daddy, hold me!” Phones rose from the crowd, cameras flashing. The murmurs turned into loud accusations, branding me a deadbeat dad who abandoned his family. I looked desperately at Maya, but she was crying harder than the stranger. “Babe, say something! Who is she? You owe me an explanation tonight!” 1 Maya stood before me, pounding her fists against my chest in a dramatic display of heartbreak. “Say something! Who is this woman? And who is this ugly little kid?” “So this is what you do! You tell me I’m your first, but behind my back, you’ve got a whole collection of mistresses! How could you do this to me? Today is our five-year anniversary!” Maya was so deep in character that the other woman actually believed her. She wiped away a tear and whimpered. “So… you were already with someone when we met. No wonder you disappeared the morning after we slept together.” “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have fallen for you so easily. I’ve ruined our child’s life!” “I don’t want anything now. I know I can’t compete with this lady. Just… please take care of our son. If you could give me two thousand dollars a month for living expenses, I’d be content.” Two thousand dollars?! I nearly choked on a boba pearl. If I hadn’t just inherited the family business, two grand would be more than enough to buy my silence, not the other way around. Realizing this wasn’t part of the game, Maya dropped the act. “Wait, you’ve misunderstood. She’s not—” The woman cut her off frantically. “Enough! What are you trying to say? That your man isn’t that kind of person? Which scumbag has ‘scumbag’ written on his forehead?” “If he hadn’t forced himself on me, I never would have believed this could happen!” “I’m a woman who has thrown away her pride and dignity! I’m not even asking for the justice I deserve. All I want is for him to provide for his child. Is that too much to ask?” Gossip is a powerful force. The moment she said “forced,” the air went still. I deeply regretted not clearing the park of bystanders as the staff had suggested. I gave Maya a look that screamed, This is all your fault. If you wanted an audience for your CEO fantasy, I could have hired actors. Now we’re the main event! Maya looked so guilty she seemed ready to bury her head in the nearest planter. Before I could speak, a guy covered in tattoos stormed up to me. “It’s bad enough you look like a pretty boy, but you don’t even have the balls to act like a man. You’re a disgrace to men everywhere!” “Don’t you feel any shame when you look in the mirror?” I nodded earnestly. “Not really.” He sputtered, half-choked with rage. I’m a woman. The short hair was just a tactic to avoid being married off by my family. Why should I feel ashamed for disgracing manhood? The guy’s face turned beet red. “Fine, fine! You’re shameless, I can’t argue with you! Let’s call the police and let them sort it out!” 2 As he reached for his phone, the woman, Jenny, lunged forward and grabbed his hand. “No! Calling the police will hurt his career! I don’t want to cause him any more trouble.” She turned to me, her voice breaking. “Please, I’m begging you. Just help me with the baby. I wouldn’t have come to you if I wasn’t completely desperate… My last few bosses haven’t paid me in six months. I can’t even afford formula for little Ben!” Tears streamed down her face, and some of the onlookers were visibly moved. A few started to chime in. “Come on, man, be a decent human being. It’s your son. This poor girl has been through enough. She’s not even asking for damages.” “A son just fell into your lap from the sky! If I were you, I’d be so happy I couldn’t sleep for three days! Stop acting so high and mighty. If you can’t afford to raise a kid, you shouldn’t be taking a girl’s clothes off!” Maya, furious, tried to defend me, but everything she said only made us look worse. Soon, the crowd was calling us a pair of sickos—me, the predator, and her, the accomplice who paid off my victims. My temples throbbed with a building rage. Finally, I spoke, my voice tight. “I am not an irresponsible person,” I began. “But I need to make one thing perfectly clear. I have absolutely, completely, never met you before in my life! I sympathize with what you’ve been through, and it’s outrageous, but is it possible you have the wrong person?” Maya immediately jumped in. “Exactly! You must be mistaken! She’s not that kind of person. Besides, it’s impossible for her to get you pregnant!” A bystander shot back, “And how would you know? Are you a worm in his stomach? Or have you two been partners in crime this whole time, so you know exactly which women your boyfriend has slept with?” “Oh, I get it now,” another woman sneered. “You know all about his cheating. You probably help him find his victims! As a woman, how can you be so vile?” Maya was about to lose it and lunge at the woman, but Jenny’s sharp voice stopped her. “Your name is Corbin Jiang! That’s right, isn’t it?” I froze. She actually knew my name. “The night you took me to that hotel, I was drunk, but I saw your ID for a second. I remember your name! For three years, I haven’t forgotten you for a single day! Corbin Jiang, you ruined my life! Why should you get away with it?” Her hysterical cries ignited the crowd’s fury. “I thought it might be a mistake, but she knows his name! What else is there to say?” “Hey, you slept with her. Just admit it! Don’t be such a coward!” “You’re panicking now, but you were all too eager back at the hotel, weren’t you?” I stared hard at her, noticing the way her eyes darted away from mine. “Since you saw my name, you must be very familiar with it. Write it down. In front of everyone.” A sheen of cold sweat appeared on her forehead. “I already said it, why do I have to write it? You’re the one who won’t admit what you did, and now you’re doubting me?” “I never said I doubted you. I just want to confirm it was you that night. It’s just a name; it won’t take long. Unless… you’re hiding something?” I leaned in closer, lowering my voice. “Or maybe you don’t actually know how to spell my name at all. So who did you really sleep with that night? And whose ID did you see?” 3 Jenny’s face flushed with anger. “Of course, I know! I just… I didn’t bring a pen!” “That’s okay,” I said smoothly, pulling a pen from my jacket pocket. “I have one. And I have my ID, too. Don’t worry, I’m not going to run out on my responsibilities.” She sputtered, trapped. Finally, defeated, she took the pen and a napkin and began to write. She wrote slowly, as if each stroke was a monumental effort. When she was done, I took the paper and looked at it. And I laughed. Corbin Jiang. A man’s name. She had no idea I was a woman. My real name was Corinne. Close, but crucially different. I pulled out my ID, covering everything but my name. “Take a good look.” The name was clearly printed: Corinne Jiang. “Miss Jenny,” I said, my voice cold, “if you’re going to hunt someone down, at least do your homework. Rushing in blindly just gets you played.” The crowd started whispering among themselves, now suspecting that Jenny had indeed made a mistake. Seeing the tide turn against her, Jenny burst into tears. “You’re doing this on purpose! You got me drunk and drugged me that night! Of course, I don’t remember everything perfectly! Even if I forgot exactly how to spell your name, I’ll never forget the Porsche you were driving! You used that car to trick me!” Ah. So that was it. She was after the car. As for my name, she must have overheard Maya calling me and latched onto it. I nodded, stepping closer. “Then please, tell me. How, exactly, did I trick you? Since you hate me so much, you must remember that part vividly, right?” Her face went white. “That was the most painful night of my life. Are you really going to make me recount it in public? I’m already at rock bottom. Are you trying to push me over the edge?” As she spoke, she lowered her head and, hidden from the crowd, gave the child in her arms a sharp pinch. The sleeping toddler instantly erupted into shrieks. The crowd’s attention shifted. Forgetting their anger at me, they rushed to help her soothe the crying child. I turned to leave with Maya, but a hand shot out and clamped down on my wrist. The next thing I knew, I was flying backward, landing hard on the pavement. “Your son is still crying, and you’re trying to run? What kind of man are you?” The tattooed guy stood over me, fuming. To Jenny, he said, “Miss, I’ve got him for you. He’s going to acknowledge this kid today, one way or another. If he won’t, I’ll beat him until he does!” Maya burst into tears, trying to rush to my side, but the crowd blocked her. I slowly pushed myself up, my eyes fixed on Jenny. “So, what do you want?” She put on a pained, pitiful expression. “I just… I can’t raise a child alone. I really don’t have the means…” I cut her off with an impatient wave of my hand. “Get to the point. How much?” “I told you, I’m not that kind of person…” I gave a cold laugh and slipped the bank card I’d just taken out back into my wallet. “Fine. If you came here to give me a child, then consider him received. You can go now.” Jenny’s smile froze, her eyes filled with hurt. “How could you think of me like that? That’s not what I meant. I don’t want your money, but I had to borrow from all my relatives to raise him so far, so—” I took a deep breath. “You want me to pay off your debts?” “Would you?” Her innocent, manipulative expression almost made me puke. “You spelled my name wrong. You know nothing about my car besides the brand. What makes you think a few sob stories are enough to make me pay your debts? Do I look like an idiot? Find the man who actually slept with you. If you slander me again, I’ll see you in court.” 4 I rose shakily to my feet, ready to leave. Jenny panicked, trying to soothe her screaming child while yelling at my back, “Fine, go! If you walk away now, you’ll never see your son again! I’ll jump with him right now! We’ll die right in front of you, so we won’t get in the way of you and your new girlfriend!” Before anyone could react, she broke through the crowd, clutching the child, and sprinted away. Two minutes later, the emergency lights at the very top of the roller coaster switched on. She was sitting up there, the child in her arms, her figure swaying precariously against the night sky. “Corbin Jiang,” her voice, amplified by the park’s speakers, echoed around us, “I don’t blame you for not recognizing me, or for forgetting me. I only blame myself for choosing the wrong man. If we meet in the next life, if I had the same kind of family as that lady by your side… would our story have ended differently?” Her tragic monologue struck a chord with every person there. Maya and I were stunned. We never thought a shakedown artist would take it this far. Someone shoved me hard from behind. “What are you waiting for? Go save them!” a bystander roared. “Just agree to whatever she wants! A life is at stake! If she dies, it’s on you!” “I’ve never seen a more shameless man in my life! Your wife and child are about to commit suicide, and you’re just standing there! Will you be this calm when your own parents die? You’ll get what’s coming to you!” I wanted to scream that he wasn’t my son, that I didn’t care if she jumped. But I knew this wasn’t the time. Someone had started a live stream, and the camera was pointed directly at me. For the sake of views, the streamers were embellishing the story. In their narrative, I was a monster who had abandoned his first family and was now driving them to their deaths for my new girlfriend. Hundreds of thousands of viewers flooded the stream, the comments a torrent of curses. “GIRL, DON’T DO IT! HE’S THE ONE WHO SHOULD DIE!” “IF YOU DIE, YOU’RE JUST GIVING THE SCUMBAG AND HIS MISTRESS WHAT THEY WANT!” “WAKE UP! YOUR SON NEEDS YOU!” “THAT BASTARD BETTER GET STRUCK BY LIGHTNING!” The cameras, the insults, the online vitriol—it was a tidal wave threatening to drown me. Left with no choice, I tried to negotiate. But no matter what I said, Jenny wouldn’t budge from her demand: two million dollars. After a thirty-minute standoff, the police arrived. I finally breathed a sigh of relief. “Officer, I want to report her! She’s falsely accusing me of getting her pregnant and trying to extort me for two million dollars! But I’m not even a—” Before I could say the word “man,” Jenny’s broken sobs rained down from above. “Officer, don’t believe him! I have proof! I had a paternity test done!” The police urged her to come down, promising they would help her. But she refused, instead throwing two sheets of paper down from the coaster. I stared at the fluttering papers, a growing sense of dread coiling in my stomach. “Officer,” I said quietly, “can she even hear me from all the way up there? I wasn’t speaking very loudly. How did she know what I said?” A bystander looked ready to hit me. “Officer, are you hearing this? What kind of monster is he? He didn’t believe the poor girl, so of course, she brought evidence! It’s perfectly normal!” I tried to explain, but no one was listening. An officer picked up the report and slowly opened it. The crowd fell silent, their eyes glued to the paper. At that exact moment, a message from an unknown number popped up on my phone. “After today, you’re finished. Corinne Jiang, consider this my first gift to you.” Suddenly, a sickening thud echoed from the distance. Panic erupted. “Someone jumped! Someone jumped! Somebody help!” “That poor girl… her ghost will haunt this bastard forever!” The officer holding the report froze, shoved it into my hands, and sprinted towards the commotion. “The kid is yours,” he’d said before he ran. “You’ll never be able to explain this now.”

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Before the SATs, my mom had one rule: no washing our hair. She firmly believed that shampoo would wash away all the knowledge in our brains. I didn’t buy it, but my twin sister, Lily, obeyed without question. Later, Lily became the laughingstock of the school. They said her hair was dirtier than a pigsty. Crying, she begged me to take her to a salon. As a result, she bombed the SATs. When Mom demanded answers, Lily blamed me: “If my sister hadn’t made me wash my hair, I would have been valedictorian!” In a fit of rage, she pushed me into the river. When I opened my eyes again, I heard my mom’s voice: “For the next 100 days until the SATs, no one is allowed to wash their hair!” Chapter 1 “Washing your hair washes the knowledge right out of your brain.” My mom’s shrill voice jolted me awake. “For the next 100 days until the SATs, neither of you is allowed to wash your hair!” I snapped back to reality, finding myself sitting at the kitchen table. Across from me was my twin sister, Lily, with her usual meek and obedient expression. I had been reborn. “Mom, that’s just a myth. How can you still believe that?” I heard myself blurt out the words. In my last life, I said the exact same thing and got chewed out for it. Mom slammed her chopsticks down and smacked me on the head. “What do you know? The experts say it’s true! “Mrs. Johnson’s son next door didn’t listen, washed his hair, and his score dropped by 100 points!” What Mom didn’t know was that Mrs. Johnson’s son cheated on every test. When it came to the SATs, with no one to copy off of, of course his score tanked. I tried to argue, hoping to change her outdated mindset. But she just unleashed her anger on me. She called me unmotivated, disrespectful. She even blamed me for her divorce and her fear of dating again. Before, I was too stubborn, always trying to reason with her. But with a mom who refused to listen, I needed a new strategy. “Mom, the kids at prep schools wash their hair every day. They say feeling fresh helps them focus.” I raised my voice deliberately. “And their acceptance rates are way higher than ours.” Mom paused. She was a sucker for the “other kids do it better” theory. But soon, she regained her composure, her face stern. “Stop with your nonsense! Lily, you be the judge. Who’s right, me or your sister?” Chapter 2 Lily glanced at me first. Seeing my calm expression, she turned to Mom with a sweet, obedient smile. “Of course I listen to you, Mom.” “See? Lily is the good one.” I didn’t argue further. I finished my soy milk and left for school without another word. Behind me, Mom’s muttering continued: “Always with that long face. What a burden. Unlike Lily, who was born to be a blessing.” Mom always said Lily looked more like her. But we were identical twins. We had the exact same face. Growing up, Mom always favored Lily. When she divorced Dad, she didn’t hesitate to dump me at my grandma’s house. If Dad hadn’t remarried and Grandma hadn’t passed away, forcing my grandparents to take me in because they pitied me… She wouldn’t have even remembered she had another daughter. I used to feel sorry for her, a single mom raising two girls. But my sympathy was met with constant belittling. When I used my allowance to buy her clothes, she called me wasteful. When Lily simply said “Mom, you work so hard” empty-handed, she was so moved she gave her a thousand dollars on the spot. She was a mother, but she wasn’t my mother. At the school gate, Lily caught up, panting. She immediately started lecturing me: “Sister, Mom has it hard. Don’t make her angry!” Her face, feigning innocence. It sent a chill down my spine. In my last life, she begged me to take her to a salon in secret. Afterward, she asked me to keep it a secret. But in the end, she pushed me to my death. The last thing I saw was her hateful expression. As if I were a monster who deserved to die. But I was just trying to help! I turned around and nodded casually. “Yeah, got it.” She wanted to say more. But I had already run through the gates, blending into the crowd of students. We weren’t in the same class anyway. Whatever happened to her from now on was her choice. In this new life, whether they washed their hair or not was none of my business! Chapter 3 That night, I had just stepped out of the shower. I ran right into Mom. She grabbed my ear and yelled: “I told you this morning not to wash your hair! are you deaf?” I pulled away and took a step back. “Even if I wash it every day, I’ll still be in the top ten for the mock exams.” Mom raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. After all, she had never been to a single parent-teacher conference for me. Between Lily and me, she always chose Lily. “Fine! If you don’t make it, don’t expect your grandma to buy you a phone!” When Lily said the new iPhone looked nice, Mom bought her the latest model immediately. I had begged from freshman to senior year, but my requests were ignored. Even when Grandma wanted to reward me, Mom would intervene. I was numb to this double standard. Lily, who had been hiding in her room eavesdropping, rushed in after Mom left. “Why did you bet your grades just to spite Mom?” “You’re smart, but I can’t score that high. If Mom yells at me later, it’s all your fault!” I admired her ability to make everything about herself. I kept working on my English practice test without looking up. “If you’re afraid of getting yelled at, read fewer romance novels and study more.” Her face turned pale with anger, and she stormed out, slamming the door. “Some sister you are!” From the next room came the sound of things being thrown. I acted like nothing happened and dove back into the sea of questions. Lily’s hair, unwashed for a month, started to smell pungent. Although she secretly used dry shampoo, it didn’t solve the root problem. She came home crying, saying classmates mocked her, writing “Toilet” on her desk with chalk. Boys would make gagging noises when she walked by. Even during gym class, she was forced to stand at the very back. Mom called the principal on the spot, accusing the teachers of ignoring bullying. Lily’s homeroom teacher got disciplined because of it. After the incident blew up, the whole school knew. There was a girl in Senior Class 2 who didn’t wash her hair. The mockery expanded from her classmates to the entire student body. She became known as the “Homeless Girl.” Wherever she went, people would snicker knowingly. Someone even started a TikTok account updating the “Homeless Girl’s” daily life. One day after school, she begged me with red eyes: “Sis, take me to get my hair washed.” I kept walking towards the bus stop without turning back. She tugged hard on my backpack strap. Unable to pull away, I frowned. “Ask Mom to take you.” She looked both fearful and disgusted. “You know Mom won’t agree!” I raised my voice. “Then keep being a good girl and listen to her.” In the end, she didn’t wash her hair. She washed her hats every day. She bought wigs to wear and sprayed perfume on her head. But these were just band-aids. They couldn’t hide the smell of grease and rot. Lily begged me three or four more times in private. But I was busy with my studies and refused. I wasn’t going to carry that burden again. Chapter 4 The first mock exam results came out. I was firmly in eighth place. Mom was so happy she bought Lily another new phone. “Lily has been under a lot of stress lately, her grades slipped. She needs to relax.” Lily waved her phone at me, showing off. “My sister is introverted at school, unlike me. I think a flip phone is too much for her.” Mom confiscated my phone that day, saying it was a waste of money if I didn’t use it. I was used to this level of bias. If I wanted something, I could earn it myself. After the second mock exam, Lily’s score dropped another thirty points. She defended herself tearfully: “The test was too hard this time.” Meanwhile, my score went up by 30 points. I was third in the grade, twentieth in the city. The teacher called specifically to congratulate us. Mom brushed it off and kept asking about Lily. The teacher said awkwardly: “I’m not Lily’s teacher. You should ask her homeroom teacher.” Mom’s execution was swift. She texted the teacher immediately. But she found out the teacher had blocked her. Mom cursed: “Irresponsible teachers like that deserve to be punished! She should be fired!” She forgot. She was the one texting the teacher at all hours. Calling at 2 AM because she couldn’t sleep. The teacher couldn’t take the harassment anymore. Mom never reflected on her actions. So Lily, raised by her hand, was exactly the same. Lily didn’t work hard enough and regressed, but she always blamed external factors. Mom even suggested Lily stop showering. “Washing your hair washes away knowledge. Showering might affect it too.” Lily couldn’t win against Mom. She only dared to wipe her body down secretly late at night. One month before the SATs, Lily finally broke down. With greasy, matted hair, she rushed into the bathroom. Mom dragged her out and comforted her patiently: “Lily, just a few more days. Hang in there.” I sat at my desk, listening to English tapes. But the cheap headphones didn’t block out the noise. I couldn’t block out my sister’s hysterical screaming: “I have to wash it! Everyone laughs at me, calling me a homeless kid! My hair is dirtier than a pigsty! Even the teachers dodge me when I say hi!” Mom made another call. Not to the principal this time, but to the Board of Education. She reported severe discrimination and bullying by teachers and students at Lily’s school, demanding punishment. During the critical pre-SAT period, everyone was afraid of a scandal. After an investigation, the instigator turned out to be the whistleblower herself. I heard that when the Board leaders called Mom in for a chat… She smashed a teacup and threw files everywhere. In the end, the police took her away for a “talk.” All the way to the station, she screamed: “My daughter doesn’t smell!”

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On my eighteenth birthday, I wasn’t blowing out candles. I was being arrested for aggravated assault. No matter how hard I tried to prove my innocence, it was useless. The star witness against me was my own brother. “Ava, you have a severe sleepwalking condition. You just didn’t know about it!” “But this time you hurt Chloe. I can’t cover for you anymore!” Just like that, I was thrown into prison with a five-year sentence. Fast forward to one week before my release. I was getting beaten into the concrete floor by the cell block boss again. During the beating, my nose started bleeding uncontrollably, and I passed out. I was rushed to the infirmary. In a haze, I heard the correctional officers talking outside. “Man, that rich kid Ethan is cold-blooded. Framing his own sister just to help his adopted one get ahead.” “Keep it down! Take that to the grave. We don’t know anything.” I opened my eyes, clutching the diagnosis paper for acute leukemia in my hand, and suddenly laughed. I laughed until tears streamed down my face. Ethan, I’m finally doing what you wanted. I’m really going to die. The prison doctor looked at me, terrified as I laughed and cried at the same time. He sighed, trying to comfort me. “Don’t be too pessimistic. If we can find a matching bone marrow donor, the five-year survival rate is still decent.” He walked around to my side, and I felt a sharp sting in my hand. “This IV might burn a little. Just bear with it.” I looked down blankly. Pain? I didn’t feel it. Compared to five years of unanswered prayers and hopeless torment, what was a little needle prick? The doctor asked me again. “Do you have family? You can ask them to come in for testing. Siblings usually have the best…” “No.” I cut him off, my voice flat, though my heart throbbed with a dull ache. “I don’t have family.” I paused, my throat dry and scratchy. “I’m an orphan.” I finally realized it. From the beginning to the end, I had always been like an orphan. No one loved me. The doctor froze. Another heavy sigh. He opened the door, and two guards walked in. They exchanged a look with the doctor, hesitating. They pitied me. But they had no choice. Ethan, the heir to the Pierce family fortune, had given instructions. They had to follow them. “Finish the IV and head back. You have one month left on your sentence.” It was evening when I returned to the cell. The other inmates were already asleep. I dragged my exhausted body inside and accidentally bumped into the boss’s bunk. Screeech. A loud, jarring noise. “You looking to die?! Watch where you’re walking!” She flipped out of bed and kicked me square in the lower back, eyes full of malice. “Five years, Ava. You really have nine lives, don’t you?” Big Red was serving a life sentence. Seeing someone like me, who was about to taste freedom in a month, only made her hate me more. Fists rained down on me like hail. I curled up on the floor, covering my head with my hands, silently taking it. “Hey! Knock it off!” A guard banged his baton on the bars. “Quiet down! Or you’re all going to solitary!” Big Red stopped and spat on me. “Pfft! I got a whole month left to mess you up!” I lay on the cold floor. The chemotherapy drugs made me weak, draining every ounce of strength from my body. I could only curl up like a turtle, using my shell for protection. Pathetic. Absurd. I stumbled back to my bunk and pulled the thin blanket over my head. After a long while, a small sob escaped my lips. The physical pain was nothing compared to the agony in my heart. Thinking about what the guards said, I felt a wave of desolation. The prison sentence, the suffering, the torture. It was all because of one thing Ethan had said: Chloe just got here. Ava, you’re the big sister now. You need to be more understanding. Six years ago, when Ethan first adopted Chloe, an orphan girl, I truly treated her like a sister. But over the next year, I realized my brother had changed. At the dinner table, my favorite dishes disappeared. They were replaced by the seafood feasts Chloe loved. He forgot I was severely allergic to seafood. So allergic that when I was a kid, a single bite of abalone almost killed me. I still remember that day. Ethan was so frantic he wanted to beat himself up. “I’m sorry, Ava. I didn’t know. I’ll remember from now on. I promise.” But after Chloe arrived, all he said was: “If you don’t want to eat, leave the table. Stop being dramatic!” From then on, I sat alone on the edge of the sofa while they cuddled together, a happy family of two. At school, Ethan stopped coming to my parent-teacher conferences. Instead, he canceled important meetings to attend Chloe’s. Gradually, I lost my brother. I lost the brother who once said he would spend his whole life protecting me… Chapter 1 After crying myself into a fitful sleep, I was woken by a guard banging on the bars. He looked at me. “Inmate 1745. Your parole paperwork went through. You’re released today.” I froze. It felt like a joke. Walking out of those iron gates, looking up at a sky that wasn’t cut into squares by bars, felt like stepping into another life. “Ava.” A familiar figure walked toward me. I looked up, my gaze hardening. It was my brother. He walked over, looking as dashing and pristine as ever. Standing next to me, in my ragged state, the contrast was jarring. “You’re out. I came to pick you up.” I stared at him for two seconds. He felt like a stranger. He looked away, guilt flashing in his eyes before he could hide it. I saw it clearly. “Ethan, I don’t have a sleepwalking disorder, right? And I never hurt Chloe.” His face stiffened. I kept going. “Everything was just a way for you to protect Chloe. But I don’t understand. I never hurt her.” “What could possibly make you do something so cruel to me?” He stopped walking, lips pressed into a thin line, afraid to meet my eyes. I forced a smile and continued. “Also, I’m sick.” He took a deep breath and turned around, his eyes full of impatience. “Ava, you just got out and you’re already starting drama?” “First you question the sleepwalking, now you’re sick? What’s next? You’re going to say you were framed and now you’re dying?” I opened my mouth to say yes. But his sharp, disgusted glare shoved the words back down my throat. He suppressed his temper. He led me toward the car. “Wait.” I reached for the front passenger door, but he stopped me. He pursed his lips. “The front seat is Chloe’s spot. You sit in the back.” My throat clicked as I swallowed. I laughed at myself. “So now, in your heart, is Chloe your only sister?” He frowned, correcting me. “It’s Chloe Pierce now. I’ve added her to our family registry. She’s your sister too.” He didn’t deny it… On the way home, I felt a warm liquid rush from my nose. I quickly tilted my head back. But the blood still dripped out. “What’s wrong?” Ethan frowned, watching me in the rearview mirror as he handed back a tissue. I endured the bone-deep ache radiating through my body. “Just stress. It’s nothing.” He nodded and didn’t ask again. Returning to the home I hadn’t seen in five years felt surreal. “Ava!” A girl fluttered toward me like a social butterfly. “You’re finally back! I missed you so much.” I looked at her, and a wave of inferiority washed over me. In five years, I had gone from confident to cowardly, while she showed no trace of the timid girl she used to be. I brushed her hand away. “We aren’t that close. Cut the act.” Chloe froze, looking wronged. Ethan’s face darkened instantly. He stepped forward to scold me. “It seems five years in prison didn’t teach you how to behave. Ava, apologize!” My body went stiff. But I still bowed slightly to her. “I’m sorry, Chloe.” Back inside the villa, I went upstairs to my room. Ethan followed me. “By the way, I forgot to tell you. Your room is Chloe’s now. You’ll stay in the guest room for the time being.” My fingers curled into a fist, slowly tightening. “…Okay.” Dinner was the same nightmare. A seafood feast that could kill me. Later, I sat on the edge of the sofa, out of place as always. When I went back to the guest room, Chloe followed me in. This time, the fake sweetness was gone. Her expression was vicious, hateful. “Looks like you’re hard to kill. I can’t believe you didn’t die in there.” I looked up, realizing everything in an instant. “So Big Red… you arranged that?” Chloe smiled and shook her head. “You’re wrong. It wasn’t me. It was Ethan.” “Ethan knew that without you around, I wouldn’t have to suffer anyone’s cold looks.” “I could finally be the true princess of the Pierce family.” It hit me like a truck. So the five years of prison… It was just because Ethan wanted the world to accept Chloe without question. A scheme to ensure she never felt “less than”… It was insane. I lowered my head and laughed out loud. Chloe frowned at me. “Are you crazy?” Slap! Chloe turned her head, clutching her stinging cheek, eyes wide with shock. “You’re crazy! You dared to hit me!” I stepped forward, grabbing her neck with one hand. “I’m going to die anyway, Chloe. Why don’t you come to hell with me!” “Cough… Cough! Let go of me!” Her face started turning blue, her eyes rolling back. Bang! The door was kicked open. I was kicked away, slamming into the foot of the bed. “Ava!” Ethan looked at the finger marks on Chloe’s neck, grinding his teeth in rage. “Have you lost your mind?!” I lay on the floor, spitting out a mouthful of blood. It soaked into the black carpet, invisible. Ethan wasn’t done. He scolded me coldly. “If you dare hurt Chloe again, I’ll throw you right back in prison!” The door slammed shut. Bang. It felt like a hammer to my heart. I lowered my eyes. My nose was bleeding again. It hurt so much… I bit my hand hard, but a painful whimper still escaped. I dragged my suitcase downstairs. This wasn’t my home. Ethan saw me in the living room with my bag and frowned. “What? You hit someone and now you’re running away?” I didn’t speak. He sneered. “Then get lost! Go far away!” I looked at him, and suddenly my brain spun. My eyes rolled back, and I collapsed to the floor. “Ava!” Chapter 2 When I woke up, I was in the hospital. Ethan stood there with a dark expression. Next to him were a doctor with his head lowered and Chloe, whose eyes were dancing with amusement. Seeing me open my eyes, Ethan stepped forward. He ripped the IV tube out of my hand, scolding me in a low voice. “So your goal was to make me think you have leukemia, right? To make me feel guilty? Or are you trying to push Chloe out of the house step by step?” “Ava Pierce!” He roared, making my scalp tingle. “You are absolutely despicable!” I opened my mouth to explain, to tell him I really was sick. But I was interrupted by the very doctor who had diagnosed me with leukemia in prison. “I’m sorry, Miss Pierce. I’ve already returned the money to your account.” “As a doctor with ethics, I cannot help you lie to your family.” My eyes widened. My ears started ringing. “What did you say?” Realizing something, I instinctively looked at Chloe. The smugness, the schadenfreude, the hate—I saw it all. “It’s you again…” I spoke, my voice hoarse, sounding like I was weeping blood. My eyes were terrifyingly red. Ethan frowned, instantly shielding Chloe behind him, his face dark. “You never learn!” “Didn’t you want to run away from home? I’ll grant your wish. Get out of the Pierce family. Now!” With that, he took Chloe’s hand and stormed out. The woman turned around. She smiled at me and mouthed, “You lose again.” The room fell silent. The doctor looked down. His eyes were full of struggle. “I’m sorry…” “My child needs money to study abroad. Ava, I really am sorry…” I twitched the corner of my mouth. Whatever. Every man for himself. But tears still fell from the corners of my eyes, drop by drop, onto the hospital bed. I was kicked out. I rented a run-down apartment in the slums. That night, just as I took my medicine and was about to sleep, I heard the lock being picked. I sat up instantly, grabbing a bat I kept by the bed. Someone outside was cursing. “Damn, what kind of dump is this little b*tch living in? Can’t even pick the lock!” The moment I heard her voice, I froze. It was her! Big Red from prison… But she was serving a life sentence. How was she out? Before I could process it, the person outside kicked the door open. The impact sent me crashing to the floor. Big Red sneered. She squatted down, snatched the bat from my hand, and tapped it rhythmically against the floorboards. The sound drained the color from my face. I looked at her and suddenly laughed. “It was Chloe, right? Since prison, was it Chloe ordering you to torture me?” She paused, her eyes flickering. “Who’s Chloe? I don’t know her. I just don’t like your face. You got a problem with that?” I stood up shakily. Without money for treatment, my body was screaming in pain again. “In prison, you used the excuse that my sentence was short and you were jealous.” “But I just got out, and you’re out right after me? Do you think I’d believe such a ridiculous lie?” Big Red’s eyes turned dark and sinister. I scoffed. “Seems like Chloe paid you well if you were willing to sit in prison for five years just to hurt me!” Bang! “Shut up, b*tch!” My back slammed into the coffee table. Shattered glass sliced into my flesh. Pain. Excruciating pain! Suddenly, the door was pushed open, and a deep voice demanded, “What are you doing?!” Chapter 3 Ethan walked in with Chloe, his face grim. Big Red caught Chloe’s eye and immediately put on a guilty expression. “We… we weren’t acting. No, wait…” She hurriedly covered her mouth and glanced at me. Ethan closed his eyes. His voice dropped. “Speak!” Big Red trembled in fear. “I’m sorry, Mr. Pierce. It was Miss Ava. She hired me. She told me to beat her up.” “So she could frame the young lady next to you.” Chloe’s eyes widened, looking like she had suffered a massive injustice. “Ava?” “How could you…” I stood up. My back was a bloody mess. My nose started bleeding again. Drip, drip. Blood hit the floorboards. “Chloe, I already left the family. Why won’t you let me go?” Ethan sneered. He protected Chloe behind him while mocking me. “She won’t let you go?” “Ava, you’re still acting!” Ethan shook his head, the disappointment in his eyes stinging my heart. “How did you become like this?” His gaze froze on my bleeding nose, and suddenly his heart gave a strange lurch. He frowned hard. But he quickly shook it off. For some reason, he just got angrier! “You really prepared thoroughly to frame Chloe. Ava, your heart is venomous!” “I can’t believe I even came to check on you. What a waste of my feelings!” He took Chloe and turned to leave. The room went quiet. Big Red suddenly scoffed. “Looks like being a rich missy isn’t that great after all.” She reached out and pinched my face, viciously. “Don’t worry. Your ‘good days’ are just beginning!” I slumped to the floor. My eyes lost focus as I stared at the closed door. My heart felt numb. It didn’t feel that sad anymore. A week later, I fainted again. Perhaps out of guilt, that doctor paid for a round of painkillers out of his own pocket. “If you don’t find a bone marrow donor… you don’t have much time left.” I clenched my fingers. I just nodded silently and left the hospital. In the time that followed, Ethan never came to see me again. Chloe, however, came by often to torture and mock me. I lay sick in bed. Like a fish on a chopping block, I didn’t even have the strength to struggle. I just let them cut. “Ava, don’t blame me.” “You had everything. I had nothing. I had no choice but to take it. Ethan… he can only have one sister.” That night, Ethan unexpectedly called me. “Do you know you were wrong?” I fell silent. I didn’t speak. I asked myself: Was I wrong? Where did I go wrong? “Ethan, the day after tomorrow is my birthday. Will you celebrate with me? Like on my eighteenth birthday?” The line went quiet, save for Ethan’s heavy breathing. “I’m in Iceland with Chloe watching the aurora. I might not make it back. But…” “If you admit your mistake, I’ll bring you a gift.” I looked down. The pain in my body made my hand shake as I held the phone. “Is that so? But Ethan…” I paused, holding back the overwhelming bitterness and grief. “I don’t even know what I did wrong.” Ethan’s voice turned sharp again. “Ava, I really shouldn’t have had any expectations for you.” Beep. Beep. Beep. The call ended abruptly. My hand lost strength, and the phone crashed to the floor. Tears shimmered in the corners of my eyes. They sparkled in the moonlight. The wind blew. It was so, so cold. For the next two days, I didn’t even have the strength to get my medicine. I lay on the bed. Watching the clock tick away, second by second. In the final moment, I finally accepted the fact that my brother wasn’t coming back. I’m so tired. My breathing grew faint. “Ava, happy birthday.” I whispered to myself, breathed my last breath, and closed my eyes forever. The very next second. A loud banging came from the door, followed by Ethan’s muffled voice. “Ava, open the door!” Chapter 4 Ethan banged on the door, a wave of inexplicable irritability rising in his chest. That feeling. It was exactly like when Ava was a child and had that allergic reaction to seafood, her life hanging by a thread. Ethan’s hand froze mid-knock. “Seafood allergy…” He murmured the words, his heart tingling with unease. Right. He remembered that because Chloe liked it, the table had been full of seafood for days. He had completely forgotten about Ava’s allergy. Seeing no movement inside for a long time, he lost his patience. “Still not opening up? I bought you a cake, Ava. My patience is limited!” He pursed his lips, listening intently for any sound inside. But in the silent night, it was dead quiet. Ethan frowned and picked up his phone, tapping on ‘Ava’. One second, two seconds. He pressed his ear to the door, listening for a ringtone. Looking at the unanswered call, he felt annoyed. He thought Ava was throwing a tantrum. “Fine. Won’t open the door? Ava, I literally flew back overnight to celebrate your birthday!” “Suit yourself!” He slammed the cake box down in front of the door and turned to leave. Inside the room, the girl lay quietly in the moonlight. Her body grew colder and stiffer. Her breathing had stopped long ago. Back at the villa, he ripped off his tie and threw it aside, feeling suffocated. He thought of Ava’s words on the phone: But Ethan, I don’t even know what I did wrong. Ethan felt restless. It was true. Sending her to prison was his idea, just a way to stop people from criticizing Chloe’s background. Come to think of it, she hadn’t actually done anything wrong… The more he thought about it, the more gloom settled in his chest, giving him a bad premonition. Just then, Chloe walked downstairs. She sat next to Ethan, a shadow crossing her eyes. “Ethan, what’s wrong?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling exhausted. “I can’t reach Ava. She’s probably sulking. It’s fine.” Chloe’s eyes flickered. He didn’t know what happened to that b*tch Ava, but she knew very well. She was probably cold by now! Heh. Chloe felt a surge of triumph. As long as Ava was dead, she would be the true Pierce heiress from now on! Ethan would belong only to her! Two people sat in the living room, their thoughts miles apart. One anxious, one gloating. For the next two days, Ethan went to knock on Ava’s door during his breaks from work. No matter how hard he knocked, there was no response. He looked down at the moldy cake at the door. He finally realized something was wrong. “Ethan?” “Chloe?” Ethan stopped trying to ram the door, frowning. “What are you doing here?” She opened her mouth. She couldn’t say she came specifically to see Ava’s miserable state. She made something up. “I came to see Ava. I wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t have dragged you to see the aurora on her birthday.” Ethan paused, not contradicting her. Chloe clenched her fists, malice flashing in her eyes. What did he mean by that silence! At this point, Ethan started slamming his shoulder into the door. Crash! The door burst open. A thick, putrid stench hit them in the face. They stumbled back two steps. Chloe covered her nose, her face full of disgust. “Ethan, did something rot in Ava’s house? What is that smell?” Ethan pressed his lips together. He didn’t know. But the anxiety haunting him reached its peak. “Ava?” He walked around but saw no one. Finally, they stopped in front of the bedroom door. The source of the stench! Bang bang bang! Ethan knocked louder and louder, his expression starting to crack. “Ava! Open the door! I’m counting to three. Don’t make me angry!” “Three, two, one!” Silence. In the corner, my spirit floated, watching them, scoffing. Open it? I’m already dead. Ethan closed his eyes, took a step back, and kicked hard. Crash! The door splintered. The overwhelming stench rushed out. “Ugh!” Chloe almost vomited, looking repulsed. But Ethan rushed in regardless. When he saw the person on the bed, already decomposing and crawling with maggots… His legs gave out, and he collapsed to the floor.

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It was a completely ordinary day. After we’d both washed up, my husband, Isla, suddenly asked me a question. “Beth, why don’t you try growing your hair out?” “It’s always short. To be honest, I’m getting a little tired of it.” My hand, holding the hairdryer, paused mid-air. In that single instant, I understood everything. He had a point of comparison out there. Someone new, someone with long hair, someone who made him feel a spark of novelty. 1 I didn’t have any proof. And I was pregnant. So I didn’t say anything. After a brief pause, I just went back to drying my hair. Isla, lying on the bed, wouldn’t let it go. “I’m serious. You have a round face, and you’ve put on some weight. The short hair just doesn’t look good on you.” “I’ll go with you to the salon to get extensions. We can get some of those trendy waves put in. It would look amazing.” He was smiling, completely oblivious to how each word he spoke made my face grow colder. We’d been together since we were eighteen. I knew him too well. He couldn’t tell the difference between face shapes, let alone one type of curl from another. The only possible explanation was that someone else out there knew the difference. And she had taught him. I stayed silent for a moment, my left hand resting on my now-showing belly. I reminded him, “Isla, I’m pregnant. I can’t get my hair permed.” Just last week, he had been with me at my check-up. The doctor had specifically told him to make sure I avoided any harsh chemicals. Especially salons. He was told to keep me away from them. But Isla had forgotten. Worse, after I reminded him, his brow furrowed in annoyance. “You’re such a buzzkill. No wonder they say women turn into shrews when they get pregnant.” “I’m a man. How am I supposed to know little details like pregnant women can’t get their hair done? You always have to make a big deal out of nothing.” I unplugged the hairdryer, pulled back the covers, and got into bed. Isla was right. I did love to make a big deal out of nothing. For example, when we first got married, he’d said one little thing about wanting to “give me a better life,” and I had pestered my father until he invested the time and money to establish Apex Innovations, the tech company where Isla was now CEO. And tonight, because of a few little words like “long hair” and “tired of it,” I decided that after my check-up tomorrow, I would make some time to visit the office. I wanted to see for myself what this person who had sparked Isla’s “novelty” looked like. 2 The next day, I had our driver take me to the company. On the way, I reviewed the information our house manager had sent over. The girl’s name was Mia. The black Maybach pulled up in front of the office building. I held my back and walked in slowly. The first person to see me was the receptionist. She was a fresh graduate from last year. During her interview, she was so nervous and inexperienced she could barely speak, and I found her crying alone in the fire escape. I had wiped her tears, taken her hand, and walked her into Isla’s office, asking him to give her a chance. Ever since, every time I visited, she would greet me with a sweet, “Hi, Mrs. Evans!” But today, when she saw me, her hands and feet started to tremble. “Mrs. Evans, you—what are you doing here?” “Mr. Evans is in a meeting. Should I… should I give him a call?” “No need. I’m looking for Mia.” The moment I said the name “Mia,” the color drained from the young woman’s face. “Mia is… she’s busy right now. Maybe I should just call Mr. Evans.” She forced a smile and reached for the phone. I knew instantly. She knew. She knew about Isla and Mia betraying me. A sharp, needle-like pain pricked at my heart. I gave her a cold look and reminded her, “This company belongs to my family, not to him.” Isla came from a modest background; his parents were simple, working-class people. In a city this large, they were practically invisible. It was because of me that my father funded his education abroad, polished his resume, and then helped him start this company, turning him into the widely respected “Mr. Evans.” He had walked a smooth, easy path for so long that he had probably forgotten. My father held a 68% controlling stake in this company. As for Isla, he was nothing more than a well-paid executive manager that my family had hired. My words seemed to stun the receptionist. Her fingers froze over the keypad. I didn’t spare her another glance and walked straight toward the main office area. At the turn in the hallway, I ran into Kevin, the HR manager. He was carrying a stack of files. The moment he saw me, his hands went slack, and the folders clattered to the floor. “Mrs. Evans? What are you doing at the office?” “Does Mr. Evans know you’re here?” I had personally hired Kevin. Last month, his mother was diagnosed with kidney failure, and he couldn’t afford the medical bills. I had quietly approached him and given him twenty thousand dollars. And now, it seemed he had betrayed me too. I let out a small, bitter laugh and walked around him. Kevin scrambled to follow, trying to block my path while stammering excuses. “Mrs. Evans, Mr. Evans said that with the pregnancy, you shouldn’t come to the office. He’s worried someone might bump into you.” “Let me take you home. When Mr. Evans gets back, you can…” I stopped and stared directly into his eyes. My voice was flat, devoid of warmth. “Kevin, are your mother’s medical bills all paid up?” The man’s expression froze. He looked away, unable to meet my gaze. “But… but Mr. Evans said that tomorrow, the new subsidiary he’s starting is signing a contract with Sterling Corp. If it’s successful, we can all move to his new company and get a huge bonus. We can’t have a scandal right now.” “Mrs. Evans, please, can’t you just be understanding for our sake?” Understanding? I laughed, a humorless sound. I was supposed to tolerate my husband keeping a mistress in the office for the sake of these employees who took my family’s money and then stabbed me in the back? I remembered the chat logs I had secretly found last night. A girl with a pink kitten avatar, saved as “Mia,” had messaged Isla. “Honey, did she take my suggestion?” “Don’t worry, I asked the stylist. That little bit of chemical won’t hurt the baby. It’ll just make her a little uncomfortable.” “I’m so jealous of Beth. She gets to have you all to herself with that same old look she’s had forever.” “If I were her, I’d be changing up my style every month, just to make sure you never get bored.” The memory of last night washed over me, and a wave of nausea rose in my throat. The temperature in my voice dropped to absolute zero. “Move,” I said coldly. Kevin flinched but still hesitated. I didn’t wait. I pushed open the door to the office. “Which one of you is Mia?” 3 The buzz of the office died instantly. After a long moment, a girl in a yellow dress stood up. She had long, light brown hair that fell in waves to her waist. She looked young and fashionable. “You—you’re looking for me?” The moment she saw me, her eyes darted around in a flicker of panic, like a startled deer. But she quickly composed herself, forcing a self-righteous smile. “Ma’am, this is an office. Everyone is busy. Please don’t disturb our work.” With that one sentence, she painted me as the troublemaker. The other employees started to stare at me with suspicion. If I were just an ordinary wife, perhaps her prim and proper words would have made me back down. But luckily for me, I wasn’t. I was the real owner of this company. I smiled, walked up to her, and fixed my gaze on her deceptively innocent face. I said, enunciating each word, “Mia, is it? You’re fired.” The girl’s composure shattered. She looked up, her voice rising in protest. “On what grounds? Mr. Evans hired me personally!” “Just yesterday, he praised my work ethic and said he was giving me the ‘Employee of the Month’ award. You can’t just—” “I can because I am his wife, and this company is my family’s property. And you…” I paused, my pregnant belly doing nothing to diminish my authority. “Do you really think Isla would divorce me for you?” The color drained from Mia’s face, inch by inch, until it was a translucent white. I felt a profound sense of boredom. I ripped the employee ID from her chest, turned, and walked away. The moment I got home, my phone rang. It was Isla. “Beth! Are you insane? Who gave you the right to come to my office and cause a scene?” “Mia is a good employee! Why would you fire her? You need to apologize to her, right now!” On cue, I could hear Mia’s sobs in the background. “Mr. Evans, I really don’t know what I did to offend Mrs. Evans… After what she did, I’m too embarrassed to even show my face at the office anymore, sob…” Watching their pathetic performance, I was debating whether to just throw the divorce papers in his face. But Isla beat me to it. “Beth, you have disappointed me more than I can say. I cannot have a shrew for a wife. Let’s get a divorce.” The words died in my throat. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, at the tired face pregnancy had given me, and my eyes suddenly burned with a fierce, terrible redness. It was sadness, but it was overshadowed by a bitter indignation. I never imagined that after discovering his affair, he would be the one to ask for the divorce. “Fine, we can get a divorce,” I said, wiping away a tear, trying to keep my voice steady. “But you walk away with nothing.” Isla didn’t hesitate for a second. “Done. No problem.” After he said it, he couldn’t wait. He rushed home and handed me the divorce agreement. After signing, I held my back and went to my room, unable to look at his disgusting face for another second. As I walked away, he looked at my heavy, cumbersome back and suddenly spoke. “You know, Beth, sometimes I almost feel sorry for you.” I froze, not understanding what he meant. He must have thought he had my attention, because his voice grew more excited. “You don’t know, do you? I’ve already secured the deal with Sterling Corp. Mr. Sterling is very impressed with me. Once this project is signed, the company I’m starting on my own will see its assets multiply thirtyfold in less than six months. So what if you make me leave with nothing now? The moment that contract is signed, I’ll be the youngest tech billionaire in the city.” “At the signing ceremony tomorrow, Mia will be there by my side as the new woman of the company. Try not to get too jealous.” It all clicked into place. No wonder he had agreed to the divorce so easily. He thought he was finally independent, about to ascend to a new social stratum. It seemed I had forgotten to tell him one small detail. The owner of Sterling Corp, Mr. Sterling, was my father’s best friend. He was investing as a favor to me. At the signing ceremony tomorrow, when my “Uncle Sterling” saw that the niece he had doted on since she was a child had been replaced… I wasn’t sure Isla would be able to handle the shock.

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The billionaire playboy demanded each of his bodyguards violate my sister. When I called the police, he counter-sued, claiming she forced herself on twenty of his men. Furious, I took him to court. But my wife, a forensic doctor, produced a report stating my sister had no injuries! To cover up the truth, they cremated my sister’s body, destroying the evidence and killing her unborn child. Only then did I learn that the billionaire and my wife had been having an affair. “It’s just a little slut who died. Why are you clinging to me?” “Since you don’t know how to behave, I’ll teach you how a dog should listen!” To force me to give up, they broke both my legs. And beat my paralyzed brother-in-law into a vegetative state. In my despair, I found a box full of medals in my brother-in-law’s closet. It turned out he was paralyzed while executing a secret mission, and his parents had sacrificed their lives for the country. A family of heroes! I hugged the medals and my sister’s ashes, pushed my vegetative brother-in-law in his wheelchair, and knelt at the gate of the military base: “My sister and her unborn child are dead… my brother-in-law beaten into a vegetable… The Sterling family treats human lives like grass! I demand an investigation!” I refused to believe that a box full of medals couldn’t exchange for justice! 1 In the courtroom, Bella pointed at me with indignation: “Jack, even if you want money, don’t be delusional! With Mr. Sterling’s status, how could he look at a cheap, vulgar… whore like your sister!” The thought of the countless wounds on my sister’s body, the word “SLUT” carved into her belly, and her mottled, infected lower body… I couldn’t control my anger anymore and slammed the “no injury” report on the table! “Bella, you were Lily’s sister-in-law! How can you humiliate her like this!” “It’s one thing not to help me, but how can you speak for Julian Sterling and those animals? And commit perjury for them!” Faced with my questioning, Bella showed no regret or guilt. Instead, her expression became firmer. “I guarantee the authenticity of this injury report with my career.” “Jack, I must remind you! I am a doctor first, then Lily’s sister-in-law.” “You want me to be an accomplice and slander Mr. Sterling? Sorry, I can’t do it.” “I have my professional ethics! In the face of justice, I must place righteousness above family!” The spectators whispered: “This guy clearly sees Mr. Sterling has money and wants to scam him. I’m tired of this drama!” “He and his sister are too stupid to target the Sterling heir. They really have some nerve.” “Thankfully Dr. Bella is upright and refused to give false testimony for them, or their scheme would have succeeded.” The discussions grew louder, all favoring Bella without exception. Julian Sterling smiled and handed over the withdrawal form: “Mr. Carter, if you really need money, our company needs a janitor. You can come.” The red string on his wrist was the one I knelt 9,999 steps in the rain to pray for Bella! I gripped the railing tightly, blood rushing to my head in rage, but I couldn’t say a word. It turns out when people are extremely angry, they really can’t speak. I snatched the withdrawal form, tore it to shreds, bit my tongue until it bled, and then gritted my teeth: “Dream on! I will absolutely, absolutely not withdraw the lawsuit!” Bella’s face was full of impatience: “Jack, stop grandstanding. Your sister forced herself on twenty bodyguards. It’s generous of them not to sue you.” Then, a surveillance video played: “Be good and obey me, or else…” “Give it to me… big brother, harder…” The dialogue was obscene and unbearable. The voice did sound like my sister; even I was dazed for a moment. I suddenly remembered Bella finding my sister a few days ago, recording her voice, saying she was preparing a special gift for her future nephew. Only now did I realize. This hellish humiliation and abuse was the so-called “gift.” “Jack, the facts are in front of you. Lily was promiscuous, and she brought this on herself!” “Mr. Sterling was kind enough to try and cover for your sister, but you are so ungrateful and bite the hand that feeds you. Don’t blame me for being ruthless!” Bella, expressionless, handed a thick stack of documents to the judge. Inside were screenshots of chat records between my sister and various men. Ambiguous and explicit. “She really was a public bus. I feel sorry for the bodyguards she forced herself on.” “Heard she was pregnant too. Who knows whose bastard it was.” “Dr. Bella did the right thing, placing justice above family.” The mockery in everyone’s eyes deepened. I shouted at the judge: “The surveillance video and chat records are forged! I request a re-investigation!” But all I got was laughter from the whole court. The judge ignored my request and dismissed my appeal on the spot. He even ordered me to raise $10 million within three days as compensation for mental damages to Julian Sterling and his bodyguards. Everyone stood up and cheered. Only I saw Julian turn to look at me, mouthing: “Your sister asked for it. Deserved!” Then he left the court with Bella, surrounded by bodyguards, heads held high. 2 I clenched my fists tightly, tears falling silently. In this moment, I felt a deep sense of powerlessness. But I didn’t believe Julian Sterling could truly cover the sky with one hand in this city! My sister was still in critical condition. As long as she woke up, she could tell the whole truth! But when I rushed to the hospital, I was told: “Mr. Carter, your sister is hemorrhaging and won’t last much longer…” “We had enough blood in the bank, but Mr. Sterling got a cut on his hand just now, and Dr. Bella urgently transferred all the blood in the city to him.” Ignoring my despair, I immediately begged the doctor: “I’ll find blood. Please, you must keep my sister alive!” Even if I had to kneel and beg Bella, I would get blood for my sister! But when I rushed to my wife’s office, I saw Bella flushed, sweating in Julian’s arms. “Bella, you really know how to have fun. Jack’s sister only knew how to cry and beg. Boring!” “Say, if your husband knew we were hooking up before you got married, would he go crazy?” Bella sneered: “He’ll never know. He’s an idiot!” “And that sister of his, not staying with her paralyzed husband, daring to provoke Mr. Sterling. She deserves to die!” So they had been together all along! No wonder Bella committed perjury for Julian! I wanted to rush in and kill them, but my sister was still waiting for me to save her. I gritted my teeth, clenched my fists, and pushed open the door. “Lily is hemorrhaging. Bella, can you spare some blood? I beg you…” Seeing me, Bella panicked for a second, but soon laughed again. “Spare blood? Does she deserve it?” “Using the blood bank for Mr. Sterling is proper use.” “Using it to save your sister, that… slut, is a waste of medical resources.” “Jack, I advise you to withdraw the lawsuit immediately. That way our marriage can continue.” I was about to continue begging when medical staff walked over holding a canister. “Dr. Bella, as per your instructions, Lily’s body has been cremated.” “Here are the ashes.” 3 Ashes? Whose ashes? I felt my head buzz, as if hit by a heavy bell, my whole body trembling. All these years, my sister treated Bella like her closest family. How could she be such a beast! I couldn’t suppress my anger anymore and rushed up to slap her hard! Bella fell to the ground. Julian hugged her painfully, kicked me away, and had his bodyguards break one of my legs. “Daring to hit my woman in front of me? You and your sister both have a death wish!” I was pinned down by my limbs, unable to move. Bella finally recovered, looking at me with icy eyes. “Jack, I gave you a chance. You didn’t take it.” “Mr. Sterling, didn’t you say your dog, Baller, has bad joints? Bone ash is rich in calcium.” Baller was Julian’s pet dog. My anxiety instantly peaked. “No!” I struggled frantically, nails scratching the floor, making shrill sounds, a tear of blood flowing from my eye. Bella hesitated for a moment, but soon looked angry again. I was pinned down like a dog. And my sister’s ashes were happily licked up by the dog. Only when the ashes were almost gone did Julian hold the dog with one hand and grab my hair with the other, Pressing my entire face into the remaining ashes. “Jack, remember this. You can’t mess with me!” “Next time, your ashes will end up the same way!” Tears and blood mixed on my face. “Can’t mess with you? Julian Sterling! One day! I will reveal the truth…” “You hurt my sister like this… I will make you pay in blood!” Before Julian could speak, Bella laughed: “Reveal the truth? Pay in blood?” “Jack, your sister is already in a dog’s belly. The evidence is gone. What do you have to reveal?” “If you’re smart, put away these thoughts. I can pretend nothing happened. Otherwise, I’ll divorce you!” With that, Bella took Julian’s arm and walked out. I lay on the ground, crying while carefully gathering the last bit of my sister’s ashes. Years ago, when my brother-in-law was paralyzed, it was Bella who operated and saved his life. After we married, my sister and I treated her like a savior. I never expected her to become this monster. In that case, there’s nothing left to cherish! 4 I took the remaining ashes of my sister to the police station. “I want to accuse Julian Sterling and Bella of disregarding human life! Julian raped my sister Lily! Bella covered for the criminal, fabricated injury reports, cremated my sister’s body without consent, and destroyed evidence!” “Officer, please give my sister justice!” But the next second, the officer looked at me with disdain. “Still not giving up?” “New trick? Even conjured up ashes?” He casually picked up a pinch of the ashes. Before I could stop him, he put it in his mouth and smacked his lips: “This is milk powder, right?” “Trying to frame Mr. Sterling, you need some skill. This is too clumsy!” I was completely stunned and roared: “You are protecting a murderer and rapist!” The officer sneered. Without a word, his colleagues dragged me out. They beat me in a blind spot of the surveillance cameras, then threw me out of the station. “I won’t give up!” “Since you protect Julian and them, I’ll go higher!” I spat out a mouthful of blood and gritted my teeth. “Go higher? The Sterlings are the sky in this city. Julian is the Crown Prince!” “Stop dreaming!” With that, the officer ignored me and left. I endured the pain and returned home. Just as I settled my sister’s ashes, my phone rang. “Mr. Carter, your brother-in-law wants to see you…” It was the nursing home. I rushed over immediately. While I was hesitating on how to tell him about my sister, a familiar voice from the room made my hair stand on end. It was Julian! I pushed the door open to see Julian whipping my brother-in-law with a leather belt. I tried to stop him but was blocked by bodyguards. “Jack, this is the price for going to the police!” “Looks like you didn’t listen to my warning!” “Mistakes have prices. Your paralyzed brother-in-law is a burden anyway. I’ll help you solve it!” Another heavy lash. My heart seized in pain. “Julian, stop it!” “Killing my sister wasn’t enough, now you want to kill him too?” “Are you human?!” I roared anxiously. But it was useless. My struggles were in vain as I watched my brother-in-law lose consciousness. “What a waste. Can’t even take a beating. Boring.” Seeing him pass out, Julian tossed the belt aside, laughing contemptuously. Then he hugged Bella, ready to leave. I rushed to press the emergency bell, completely desperate: “Bella, are you human?” “This is your brother-in-law! The patient you saved ten years ago!” “How can you watch Julian beat him like this!” My words made Bella pause. She turned back, speaking coldly: “Paralyzed for ten years, living is meaningless. Only fools like you and your sister can’t let go.” “If you hadn’t courted death by going to the police, we wouldn’t bother with this cripple!” Perhaps feeling she was too harsh, Bella added: “He’s a burden. Better off dead.” “Jack, just a brother-in-law. Why care so much?” “I said, as long as you let this go, we can live happily like before.” I laughed in anger. Today, I truly recognized the shamelessness of the woman before me. “Bella, let’s divorce!” As if hearing a hilarious joke, Bella laughed out loud, glancing at me: “Jack, you’re hopeless. Calm down!” With that, she left without looking back. Doctors resuscitated him. His life was saved, but he became a vegetable. Chance of waking up: slim to none. After his vitals stabilized, I went to my sister’s house to get some supplies. In the stairwell, I saw the walls covered in graffiti: “Whore,” “Slut,” and other insults. “You’re her brother, right? Should have taught her better.” “Lily looked so quiet. Didn’t expect her to do such shameful things.” “Fix this mess! Apologize to Mr. Sterling properly. Don’t affect us neighbors!” The neighbor across the hall poked her head out, tone impatient. I didn’t speak, closing the door. Apologize to Julian? Ridiculous! My phone vibrated. A text from Bella. “Thought it through? Come apologize to me and Mr. Sterling!” “Mr. Sterling is someone you can’t mess with. Stop wasting effort. If you really anger him, don’t blame me for not helping you!” I sneered, didn’t reply, and blocked Bella. Can’t mess with? Wasting effort? I don’t believe it! I don’t believe this world only has protection for the powerful and no justice for the ordinary! While packing my brother-in-law’s things, I accidentally knocked over a metal box deep in the closet. Dozens of medals spilled out. Medal of Honor, Silver Star, Purple Heart… And certificates in red folders. Only after going through everything did I realize tears covered my face. My brother-in-law was paralyzed while on a classified mission. His parents sacrificed their lives for the country. A family of heroes! These medals, these certificates, were proof! Trembling, I closed the box and held it, pushing the urns of my sister and brother-in-law (figuratively, since he’s alive but vegetative), and knelt at the gate of the military base. This was the supreme honor my brother-in-law’s family exchanged their lives and blood for. Now, it became the last straw for me to seek justice for my murdered sister, my vegetative brother-in-law, and their unborn child! “My sister and her unborn child dead… my brother-in-law beaten into a vegetable… The Sterling family treats human lives like grass! I demand an investigation!” I don’t believe it! A box of medals can’t buy the truth!

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After my ex-husband Liam’s mentor’s daughter was diagnosed with pregnancy, he filed for divorce. “It’s just for show, to protect her reputation. Don’t overthink it,” he said. Even our son chimed in, “We should be grateful, Mom. Besides, that’s Dad’s baby too. Don’t make things difficult for him.” Everyone expected me to cause a scene. Instead, I nodded silently. I signed the papers quickly, then married Luke, the man who once saved my life. In my past life, I refused to divorce. Liam and our son abandoned me and fled the country. I became a laughingstock and never recovered. So in this life, I divorced him calmly and vanished from their world. Six years later, at an exclusive yacht party for the elite. Liam and our son pushed through the dancing crowd and grabbed my wrist, furious. “I told you it was just for show! Where the hell have you been all these years?” I was surprised. The next second, my little daughter ran into my arms. “Mommy, who are you talking to? Daddy is looking for you.” Chapter 1 When I saw Liam again, I was wearing a satin mermaid gown, sipping champagne on the deck. I had been working on design drafts until late last night and didn’t want to show my face. But as the hostess of the yacht, I had to make an appearance. I sighed. Before the glass could reach my lips, rapid footsteps approached from behind. The next second, I was spun around. Liam and I froze. His pupils contracted, voice full of disbelief: “Joy, it really is you! Where have you been all these years?” My expression remained cool. Before I could answer, Chloe exclaimed dramatically: “Joy! You’re so thin now! I remember you used to be too fat to be seen in public.” Beside her, our son, Noah, chuckled. He had grown taller in the years apart. But the arrogant look on his face mirrored Chloe’s perfectly. He understood Chloe’s implication and laughed, “Chloe, you’re teasing her again. But what’s the point? She can’t be a model anyway.” Noah’s tone was filled with disdain, just like countless times before. Mocking my weight, my intelligence, calling me “just a housewife” with no charm. But before marriage, I was a rising star in the fashion world. Major runways extended olive branches, begging for my designs. After marriage, everything changed. Liam constantly criticized me for not being home. He brainwashed me into believing a career woman couldn’t be a good wife or mother. One day, he secretly emailed my partners, claiming I was retiring. I woke up and screamed, crying like a madwoman. He calmly told me to relax. From that day on, I was a bird with clipped wings, devoted entirely to the household. In the seventh year, he cheated with his mentor’s daughter. He said she was dazzling and reignited his passion. As I was lost in memories, Chloe giggled delicately. “Joy, even if you can’t be a model, don’t feel inferior. You could apply to be a hostess.” “A friend of mine is a hotel manager hiring hostesses. Three thousand a month. Want me to introduce you?” Noah laughed again. “Chloe, stop. My mom is so sensitive, she might cry.” He pointed proudly at the stage nearby. “Chloe was invited to walk the runway today for a very famous designer.” I froze, almost laughing out loud. Chapter 2 Because I was that designer. This show was the warm-up for my husband Luke’s business event. We invited well-known models. I had scanned the list; Chloe’s name wasn’t on it. Then it hit me. One model had an emergency. Chloe must be a last-minute replacement. But looking at the time, I raised my eyes from my watch and said flatly, “Shouldn’t you be backstage prepping?” Chloe’s face stiffened, offended by my tone. “Don’t pretend you know anything. Do you know more than me? It’s still early!” I frowned. With such an unprofessional attitude, no wonder she hadn’t made a splash in years. Seeing me alone, Chloe clung to Liam’s arm, whining: “Is Joy in trouble? It’s not easy to get on this yacht.” “I heard people buy scalped tickets to sneak in and fish for rich husbands.” Her words were loaded. Liam looked at me with complex emotions, eyeing my dress. He sounded almost sad. “Joy, that dress isn’t something you can afford. Did you rent it? Or borrow it?” He pulled out a card and handed it to me. “There’s twenty thousand here. You’re the mother of my child. I can’t watch you go astray.” “I thought you left so decisively because you had somewhere better to go. I didn’t expect…” His voice trailed off with condescending pity. Chloe covered her mouth, laughing. “Maybe it’s a knockoff. Don’t be embarrassed, Joy. This money is nothing to us, but it should help you look less pathetic.” Just as she finished, a young female voice interrupted. “That’s not a knockoff. You can tell by the craftsmanship and fabric. Plus, it’s the latest design from Yian, very hard to get.” Chloe’s face fell. She turned to rage, but saw it was an old acquaintance, Nina. Nina was delighted and hugged her. “Darling! I can’t believe I ran into you! How have you been? I lost touch after you got pregnant.” She looked at Noah, puzzled. “Is this your son? The age doesn’t seem right?” Chloe’s expression froze. She forced a smile. Her voice was strained. “There was an accident. I lost the baby.” I was surprised, yet not. Liam had low sperm quality. I hid it to protect his ego. I secretly took injections to maintain my pregnancy, suffering a hemorrhage during birth. Liam didn’t comfort me. Instead, he berated me during my recovery. I cried for three days until my vision blurred, realizing I couldn’t cry anymore. The past was a dirty rag. I sighed internally and pushed it away. Nina laughed awkwardly, offered condolences, and left. I checked the time, planning to leave. Suddenly, Chloe grabbed my arm, nails digging into my skin. Her face crumbled into hatred. “Hearing I lost the baby, you’re happy, aren’t you?” “It’s all your fault! Liam was never home, looking for you! That’s why I got stressed and miscarried! You murderer!” I pushed her away reflexively, stunned. He was looking for me? Why? In my past life, wasn’t he the one desperate for a divorce? Besides, her miscarriage had nothing to do with me. The sperm quality was poor to begin with. And she dieted excessively. Losing the baby was her own doing. Chapter 3 I looked at the scratches on my arm. Blood was surfacing. My skin is pale; Luke would notice immediately. With his protective nature, I feared trouble. But the next second, Liam angrily blocked my path. He helped the tear-streaked Chloe up and snapped at me, “Joy, apologize!” I trembled, memories flooding back. Once, I put too much salt in dinner. Chloe burst into tears. She claimed I was jealous of her figure and trying to make her fat. Without a word, Liam pinned me to the floor like a dog without dignity. The past was vivid. My nails dug into my palms. But times have changed. I won’t let anyone throw dirt on me. I scoffed, spitting out two words: “Dream on.” Noah stopped wiping Chloe’s tears. He yelled at me in disappointment: “You’re so vicious and unrepentant! I don’t have a mother like you!” He had said this many times. Birthing him was hard, so I always cherished him. I silently agreed to his unreasonable demands. He thought he could still threaten me. He was wrong. Looking at his stubborn, smug face, I said calmly: “Whatever. You have more than one mom anyway.” Noah froze. He opened his mouth, panic in his eyes, tears welling up. Then, he exploded, ripping the amulet from his neck. He threw it into the sea. Then he wailed. “I don’t want you anymore! You’re a bad woman!” I was dazed for a moment. I got that amulet for him when he was six. He always called it tacky and refused to wear it, often losing it at home. Why was he wearing it now? Chloe hugged him, comforting him. “Noah, I’m your mother now. That bitch doesn’t deserve to be your mom.” She turned to me, eyes glinting maliciously. “Joy, you don’t have an entry badge. Must be a scalped ticket. I was going to let you off, but since you’re shameless, don’t blame me.” She raised her hand to call security. I didn’t move. Joke’s on her. This yacht is in my name, a gift from Luke. Who dares touch me? But the next second, a hand firmly pressed hers down. Liam looked at me with complex emotions, then whispered something to Chloe. Chloe looked at him in disbelief, face full of resentment. Finally, she nodded reluctantly. Liam’s face softened. He turned to speak to me. But Chloe wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Liam froze, glancing at me instinctively. I showed no emotion. His eyes darkened, and he kissed her back hard. Just then, my phone rang. Before I answered, Liam’s eyes lit up. Surprise colored his voice. “You still listen to this song?” I paused, confused, then remembered. This was “our song” from years ago. I had forgotten. I set it as my ringtone because I liked it. But clearly, Liam misunderstood. His eyes sparkled, wanting to say something. I ignored him and answered the phone. Luke’s magnetic voice came through: “Joy, where are you? The show is starting. We need to go on stage.” I smiled involuntarily, humming a soft yes. “I’m coming. Hanging up now.” Chapter 4 Before my smile could fade, my wrist was seized. “Who is that man?” Liam’s jaw was tight, suppressing a volcano. After hours of drama, I had enough. I shook off his hand and walked away quickly. Chloe grabbed Liam as he tried to pursue. She mocked loudly, “Look, she’s guilty! Running away like a thief. Liam, ignore the slut!” The voices faded. I didn’t even look back. At the staircase, my daughter ran into my arms. “Mommy, who were you talking to? Daddy is looking for you!” I tapped her nose. “Mommy has a mission for you. I need to touch up my makeup. Can you tell Daddy to come find me?” “Okay!” She chirped and ran off. I continued up to the second floor. Suddenly… Security guards swarmed the stairwell. Chloe stood behind them, shouting: “That’s her! The stowaway!” The guards approached, voices stern. “Miss, please show your entry badge.” As the owner, I didn’t need one. I rubbed my temples. “Who is your supervisor? Get him.” Chloe laughed mockingly. “Joy, stop pretending. You’re dead meat. Get off the boat!” Since meeting, she provoked me repeatedly. I ignored her. Now, I realized there was no need to be polite. I opened my phone to make a call, but Chloe snatched it away. She looked at me triumphantly. “Trying to call Liam for help? Dream on! Shameless bitch, hooking up everywhere.” She turned to the guards. “Throw her off! People like her are a plague on this ship!” Afraid of offending a guest, the guards advanced. “Miss, you cannot be here without proof. Please disembark immediately.” Two pincer-like hands twisted my arms behind my back, pressing me down like a criminal. Pain shot through me. I broke into a sweat, teeth chattering. “Let go! I own this yacht!” The guards paused, loosening their grip. Chloe burst out laughing. “Security, she’s playing you! Why would the owner be on the first floor? They’re on the upper deck!” She looked me up and down with disdain. “Look at her. Would a rich man want her?” Chloe’s voice was shrill. A crowd gathered. Afraid of trouble, the guards tightened their grip again, dragging me roughly. I struggled, freeing one arm to grab the wall. “Let me make a call! I really am—” Before I could finish, the guard interrupted impatiently. “Crazy woman, stop talking nonsense! Get out!” He yanked my arm, throwing me to the ground. My hair came loose. My ankle cracked as I fell. Piercing pain radiated through my body. My face went white, and I screamed. My phone rang. Chloe looked at it, then threw it into the sea. I stared, wide-eyed. That was Luke’s gift, containing important, unbacked-up files. Seeing my glare, Chloe flew into a rage, raising her hand to slap me. The next second, a hand caught her wrist.

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At ten o’clock at night, my neighbor from next door, whose screen name was StillWaters, suddenly tagged me in the resident group chat: 【To the fucking bitch in 705, can you tone it down a little? The whole building is supposed to listen to your bedsprings squeal all night? Are you trying to keep everyone awake?】 【My baby has a congenital heart defect. If you wake him up again, I’ll kill your whole family!】 I quickly tried to explain that I lived alone, but she refused to believe me. After a few patient attempts, I gave up and ignored her. I never imagined that two weeks later, she would burst into my apartment with a knife and stab me eighteen times. As I collapsed in a pool of my own blood, she kept slashing like a madwoman, her screams tearing through the air. “This is all your fault! My baby died last night! You’ll pay for his life with yours!” My vision blurred, and I lost consciousness. Even in death, I couldn’t understand how I had ever harmed her child. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the very day she had cursed me in the group chat. Faced with her familiar tirade, I didn’t back down. This time, I shot back with fury: “Stop your goddamn crazy talk! Your baby died three years ago!” 1 After I sent the message, the once-lively group chat fell silent. A few minutes later, my neighbor exploded: 【What the hell are you talking about, you whore? My baby is about to turn one! How dare you curse my child to die!】 【Everyone see this? The bitch in 705 can’t have kids of her own, so she’s cursing other people’s!】 The other residents saw our exchange and immediately jumped to her defense: 【706, that’s way out of line. How could you say something so horrible about a child?】 Another person tried to placate her: 【Linda, calm down. We’re all neighbors here. Let’s just talk this out peacefully.】 That only made Linda angrier: 【Talk peacefully my ass! What is there to say to a slut like her? She’s just jealous that my baby is happy and healthy!】 【My baby has a heart condition! It’s a miracle he’s made it to his first birthday. The doctor said we have to be extremely careful!】 【And this whore? She’s shaking her bed like there’s no tomorrow! If anything happens to my son, she’ll be the first person I kill!】 The other neighbors piled on, their accusations aimed at me: 【Linda has a point. It’s late. You two should show some restraint.】 【Yeah, it’s ten o’clock. Give it a rest!】 Reading their messages, I felt a wave of absurdity wash over me. I’d lived in 705 alone since the day I moved in. There was no man in my apartment. As for Linda next door, her baby had died shortly after birth. How could I, with a non-existent man, possibly disturb the sleep of a child who was already dead? Just as I was about to explain, Linda started spamming the chat again: 【Are you starting up again, you bitch? Will you die if you don’t get fucked for one night?】 【Are you doing this on purpose? You don’t want my baby to live, do you? He’s fought so hard to survive, and you’re trying to kill him!】 【If he has a heart attack because of you, can you take responsibility for that?】 A few other neighbors chimed in, their messages dripping with annoyance. 【705, her kid has a heart condition. Do you really have to pick on a sick child?】 【Exactly. Linda’s a single mom, it’s not easy. The least you could do is be considerate, but instead, you curse her child.】 In my past life, I had explained over and over that I lived alone, but no one listened. Instead, Linda’s harassment escalated. I called building management, I called the police, but nothing worked. Finally, I’d had enough and went to stay with my best friend for a few days. When I returned, Linda forced her way into my apartment with a knife and murdered me. Even now, whenever I close my eyes, I can see her deranged face. The fury inside me finally boiled over. I switched to voice memo and sent a message to the group, my voice shaking with rage: “Can you just leave me the hell alone?! Your child is already dead!” 2 The group chat went silent for several seconds. I thought she’d finally shut up, but then a frantic pounding erupted at my front door. I looked through the peephole and saw Linda, her eyes wide with fury, screaming at my door. “You bitch, you’re asking for it! How dare you say my baby is dead!” “I just got him back to sleep, and you say that! Are you trying to kill him on purpose?” “If anything happens to my baby, I’ll kill you!” The commotion brought other neighbors out of their apartments. They immediately started pointing fingers at me. “Vera, you’ve gone too far! Linda’s baby is barely a year old. Have some decency!” “Exactly! You’ll have kids of your own one day. How would you feel if someone said something so vile about them?” “Picking on a baby… you’re just asking for bad karma!” Linda was still hammering on my door, her eyes bulging as if she wanted to tear me apart with her bare hands. “You goddamn bitch! Slut! Why are you cursing my son?” “I’m going to kill you! I’m going to kill your whole family!” Her shrieks were piercing, drilling into my eardrums and making the late-night hallway feel terrifyingly cold. The memory of being falsely accused and then stabbed to death by this lunatic made my body tremble uncontrollably. When she screamed about killing my family, I snapped. I yanked the door open and slapped her hard across the face. “Shut the hell up! Where is this baby of yours? How come I don’t hear him crying?” “Bring your precious baby out here right now. Let me see him with my own eyes, and I will gladly be your free nanny for life!” The slap stunned her. She froze for a few seconds, then lunged at me with her nails out. I quickly dodged back into my apartment and stuck my foot out, tripping her. As the memory of my own murder flooded my mind, a fresh wave of rage consumed me. I sat on her back, grabbed her hair, and started pulling. “You like to scream? You like to bang on my door? Let’s see what you’ve got now!” Pinned beneath me, Linda could only let out strangled shrieks. “Vera, you’re an animal! This is insane! I’m calling the police!” Her cries brought the neighbors running. They swarmed in, pulling us apart and calling for the building manager. I glared at Linda, still breathing heavily, my anger far from satisfied. By my calculation, I had only been reborn for about an hour. An hour ago, I had been murdered by this very woman. How was I supposed to stay calm? But as the others held me back, they all turned on me. “Vera, you were already in the wrong, and now you’re getting physical? You think you can bully a single mother just because she’s alone?” “I never realized we had such a vicious person living on our floor!” “I’ve already called management! If you keep this up, we’re calling the cops and letting them handle it!” 3 Freed from my grip, Linda’s arrogance returned. She gritted her teeth and slapped me twice across the face, the sound echoing so loudly in the hallway that all the motion-activated lights flickered on. “You bitch! You disturb my child’s sleep, and then you dare to hit me! This is what you get!” I struggled to fight back, but the neighbors held me tight. “Are you still trying to fight? Just calm down!” Linda taunted me, her insults growing viler by the second, while the other neighbors scolded me for my lack of public decency. One woman, holding a small child, looked at me with pure hatred. “You’re a grown woman! Have you no shame? You woke up every child on this floor! Are any of us supposed to get any sleep?” “Linda is a single mother, and her baby has a heart condition! Who can stand you making all this trouble?” I fought against their grip, shouting back, “How many times do I have to explain? I live alone! What bed am I shaking? Am I shaking it with a ghost?” “And another thing—she says I woke her baby. Has a single one of you ever actually seen her baby?” My words gave them pause. A flicker of doubt crossed their faces. But Linda quickly retorted, “I just fed my baby! He’s sleeping soundly in his room right now!” I laughed coldly. “A minute ago, you said I was shaking the bed and keeping him awake. Now you’re out here screaming your head off, and suddenly he can sleep through it?” Everyone froze. The mother holding her child muttered to herself, “My baby is a pretty deep sleeper, but her kid is supposed to be sensitive to noise. How did he not cry through all that commotion?” Just then, the building manager rushed over. Hearing the argument, he immediately stepped in. “Ms. Linda, the sound you’re hearing might be coming from the aging wooden structures in your own apartment.” “If it’s convenient, we can come in and check for you now, so it doesn’t disturb the baby’s rest.” Linda, who had been so aggressive just moments before, suddenly went silent. After a long pause, she said reluctantly, “Come back tomorrow. My baby is already asleep. You’ll just wake him up with all your banging around.” I wasn’t about to let her off that easily. “I think you’re just hiding something. I’ve lived here for months, and I have never once seen your child!” Linda grabbed my arm. “You keep saying my baby is dead. Fine. Let me ask you this: if my baby is sleeping peacefully in his room, what will you do then?” I didn’t hesitate. “If your baby is in there, I will move out of this complex immediately. I guarantee you won’t hear another peep from me!” Linda turned to the others. “You all heard her! She said it herself!” With that, she dragged me into her apartment. “Fine! I’ll let you see him with your own eyes!” The neighbors and I followed her inside. The moment we stepped through the door, we were hit by the strong smell of milk. The living room table was cluttered with baby formula and half-empty bottles. Tiny clothes hung on a drying rack on the balcony. We walked into the bedroom. A crib, a mobile, soft floor mats, and padded corner guards—it was a perfect nursery. For a moment, I started to doubt myself. Did Linda really have a baby? She yanked me over to the crib. “Take a good look! Isn’t my baby right there?” I peered into the crib and was struck dumb. Linda was gloating. “You all heard her! Vera is getting kicked out of this building!” After she finished, she glanced into the crib herself. And then, with a choked gasp, she collapsed to the floor. Because the crib was completely empty. 4 Linda scrambled back to her feet and started tearing the room apart, muttering frantically, “Where’s my baby? Baby, where did you go?” She searched every inch of the room, but there was no child. The mother from the hallway tried to comfort her. “Linda, think carefully. Did you maybe move the baby somewhere else? A one-year-old can’t climb out of a crib by himself.” At her words, something seemed to click in Linda’s mind. Her eyes lit up. “Right! Someone must have taken him just now!” She spun around and grabbed my shoulders. “Aha! I knew it! I was wondering where your lover was. He must have snuck in and run off with my baby while we were arguing!” “Vera, if you’ve done anything to my son, I’ll kill you!” She screamed for the manager to lock down the complex. Security guards and the neighbors who knew what was happening joined the search. For over half an hour, thirty or forty people scoured the property, but they found no trace of anyone suspicious. The manager tried to calm Linda down. “Don’t worry. If the child is still in the complex, we’ll find him. If not, we have to call the police.” Linda shook her head violently. “No! We can’t call the police! It will scare the baby! My baby has a congenital heart defect!” The manager frowned. “But this is serious. You have to tell your family. What about your husband?” Linda’s reaction was even more extreme. “No! I can’t tell him yet! The baby isn’t one year old! I wanted it to be a surprise!” Her words left everyone baffled. Everyone except me. I sensed something was deeply wrong. I spoke up, my voice firm. “Her baby is no longer in this complex. You could turn this place upside down and you still wouldn’t find him.” The manager’s face flushed with anger. “Did you really take her child? Do you have any idea that kidnapping is a serious crime?” A male neighbor, his face twisted in disgust, slapped me hard across the face. “You animal! This is all because Linda interrupted you and your lover, isn’t it? This is your revenge!” Hearing this, Linda lunged at me, grabbing my arms in a death grip. “You bitch! My baby is so small, and he has a heart condition! How could you be so evil?” “Tell me, where is my baby?!” I gritted my teeth. “I told you. Your baby is already dead.” A collective gasp went through the crowd. They all assumed I had killed the child. They spat insults at me, calling me a heartless monster, completely ignoring my attempts to explain. Finally, the manager said, “We have to call the police.” The police arrived quickly. The neighbor across the hall from Linda provided security footage from his doorway camera. The video showed the entire sequence of events, from Linda banging on my door until the moment her “baby” disappeared. No one had entered her apartment. Next, the building management pulled footage from all the main gates. No one was seen leaving the complex with a child. After a thorough investigation, the police found no evidence that Linda’s child had been taken. In fact, over the past month, the only person seen entering or leaving her apartment was Linda herself. There was never any sign of a baby. All eyes turned back to me. Because from the very beginning, I was the only one who had been saying that Linda’s child was already dead.

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I entered a game where the challenge was to survive 7 days on 50 bucks. The prize: a staggering 120 million. Simple math, brutal reality. A bottle of water cost 15. A sandwich ran 40. Everyone else whispered, laughed, even sneered at me. “You’re doomed,” they said. They didn’t know, I thrived in these conditions. Call it luck, call it experience, call it what you will. I was a sophisticated dirt poor, and the game was practically tailored to me. I would be the one walking out alive, side by side with the few who dared to last. A mechanical, electronic voice cut through the anticipation. “Welcome to the Dirt Poor Game. Initial funds: $50. Objective: Survive in the game for 7 days. Winner receives: 120 million. Overspending, death, or leaving the game zone will result in elimination and a 120 million debt.” 1 A pause, heavy with mischief. “Now, any cowards want to quit?” Quit? I laughed under my breath. A young guy with bleach blonde hair scoffed, shaking his head. “Seven days? I could survive on water alone.” A chubby kid in a soaked t-shirt muttered something about stretching $50 over bagels and peanut butter. His shoulders sagged with nervous energy, but the glint in his eyes said he still believed in fortune favoring the bold. “Only an idiot would quit now.” Around us, the crowd buzzed with blind excitement. Some daring each other with smirks and bets, others frozen in silent panic. Finally, the system confirmed what I already knew: not a single player has quit. “Game rules activated. Players cannot quit. 100 players deployed. Welcome to Airport Odyssey. May you survive.” A flash of white light swallowed me, and then, chaos. I was standing in an airport that stretched endlessly in all directions, terminals disappearing into vanishing points. Travelers streamed past, faces blurred, some human, some not. I couldn’t tell which were players and which were NPCs. I glanced at my interface. $50. Exactly as promised. Three stats blinked above it: Hunger, Thirst, Energy, all full. My eyes caught a convenience store across the terminal, a flicker of hope. I moved toward it, scanning the shelves. Then came the sound that froze me in place—a choked, terrified cry. “Holy hell!” It was the chubby kid from earlier, staring at the cooler like it had just turned into a wall of fire. “$15 for a bottle of water?” he groaned, eyes wide. “Highway robbery!” I stepped closer, heart sinking. Cupcakes? 50 bucks. Sandwiches? 40. Bagels? 10. Even the cheapest pack of graham crackers was 18. The math was merciless. Seven days, $50, and not enough to buy half a bottle of water each day. He grabbed my arm, panic flaring. “Player 66, sis, we’re screwed. 50 bucks won’t even cover three bottles of water for a week. We’ll starve. We’ll die.” I let out a long sigh. Charity wasn’t in the system’s vocabulary. I already knew survival wouldn’t be easy. Around us, other players crowded the store, faces twisted with disbelief and dread. “Miss, I’m Player 44,” the kid said, rubbing sweat from his brow. “Come on, let’s team up. I can handle anyone who messes with you.” He threw a quick flurry of martial arts moves, smooth but nervous. I shook my head politely. “Not yet.” I needed to understand the rules before I trusted anyone. My eyes scanned the terminal. My priority was simple, cold, and clear: water. Free water. Outside the restroom, I spotted a water fountain. Two discarded plastic bottles lay nearby, dented and forgotten. I washed them quickly, filling both to the brim. Water problem solved. Cost: zero. Survival didn’t have to be complicated yet. Next came energy. My eyes fell on a Starbucks across the terminal. The condiment stand gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights. Rows of sugar packets and creamer cups lined neatly like soldiers. Sugar was essential. It could save me from low blood sugar, from weakness, from mistakes. I moved toward it, calm and deliberate, every motion fluid and casual, like I belonged there. Within seconds, a dozen sugar packets and a few creamers slid into my pockets. Less than two seconds. Then, just as casually, I walked out. Reaching a deserted corner, I tore two packets open and dumped the sugar directly into my mouth. Sweetness exploded, sharp and cloying, but energizing. Cost: zero. The airport’s air conditioning blasted like an icebox. Maybe the system had designed it this way; colder temperatures burn energy faster. My thin clothes offered little protection, but I improvised, moving to stay warm. A discarded airline blanket in a trash can became my temporary armor against the chill. Hunger, however, was more persistent. By 8:00 PM, I drifted toward a small bakery tucked behind a glass counter. The unsold bread radiated warmth and a rich, yeasty aroma. My stomach growled loudly, a reminder that instincts alone weren’t enough. My dirt poor instincts whispered that the bread should be discounted by now. A loaf marked $30 sat temptingly behind the glass. Now it read 15. Still not enough. Waiting longer could yield deeper discounts, maybe even free. Every saved dollar was a chance to survive another hour, another day. I perched on a chair across from the bakery, half-closing my eyes to rest. The quiet was shattered by an anonymous broadcast on the game’s public channel. “Head to the bakery in Terminal 3, Zone A. Bread here is half price. Hurry, don’t shove. It’s mine!” Pandemonium erupted. 20, maybe 30 players surged toward the bakery like a stampede. People waved cash frantically, grabbing loaves straight off shelves. Staff shouted for order, but their voices were drowned in chaos. Within minutes, every discounted loaf, including the one I had been eyeing, was gone. Some players held their bread triumphantly, relief written across their faces. Others pounded their chests, cursing their luck. Curses, complaints, and desperate sighs hung in the cold air like smoke. My hunger pangs twisted sharply, yet I forced a deep breath, suppressing the cramps. My gaze drifted upward to the flight information screens hanging above the terminal. Red statuses scrolled relentlessly. It was time to show my true skills. The red letters on the departures board told a story most players hadn’t yet understood: Delayed. Delayed. Cancelled. Flight after flight, destination after destination. This wasn’t just an airport; it was a trap designed to bleed money from the desperate. But delays meant something else entirely to someone like me. Delays meant free food. I approached the nearest gate agent, a tired-looking NPC—or player, I still couldn’t tell—shuffling papers behind a desk. The crowd around her had thinned after the latest cancellation announcement. “Excuse me,” I said, my voice carrying just the right blend of exhaustion and concern. “My flight’s been delayed six hours. Are there meal vouchers available?” She barely looked up. “Vouchers are only for delays over eight hours.” “Oh.” I let my shoulders slump, then brightened slightly. “What about the passenger rights compensation? I read something about that online.” A flicker of annoyance crossed her face. “You’d need to file a formal complaint. Takes three business days to process.” I nodded slowly, as if accepting defeat, then played my real card. “I understand. It’s just… I’m diabetic, and I need to eat regularly. Is there anything you can do? Even just pointing me toward where they put the expired sandwiches?” Her expression softened minutely. She glanced around, then leaned forward. “Wait here.” Three minutes later, she returned with a wrapped sandwich and a small bag of pretzels. “Don’t tell anyone. These were supposed to be thrown out anyway.” “Thank you so much,” I breathed, genuine gratitude flooding my voice. As I walked away, I checked my interface. Hunger: 78% Thirst: 85% Energy: 82% Balance: $50 Cost: Zero Behind me, I heard Player 44’s voice rising in pitch. “What do you mean you don’t have anymore? She just got food! I need food too!” The agent’s voice turned cold. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to step back.” I found a quiet corner near Gate C17 and unwrapped my prize. The sandwich was dry, the lettuce wilted, but it was sustenance. As I ate slowly, savoring every bite, I observed the other players. Most had already spent money. I could see it in the way they clutched shopping bags, held half-empty water bottles, or nervously checked their interfaces. The blonde kid from earlier strutted past with a large coffee. $20 gone in a single impulse. Others huddled in groups, pooling resources or arguing about strategy. The public channel crackled to life again. “Day 1, Hour 12. Current Player Count: 100. Eliminations: 0. Average Remaining Balance: $38.50.” Someone had already burned through almost $12. The game had barely begun. A new announcement echoed through the terminal. “Attention passengers. Due to inclement weather, all flights are grounded until further notice. Complimentary blankets available at Terminal B, Gate 7. First come, first served.” The stampede began immediately. I stayed seated, finishing my sandwich. Blankets were useful, sure, but I already had one. More importantly, I’d noticed something else on the departures board. A pattern in the delays. Every two hours, one specific flight kept getting pushed back by exactly 30 minutes. Flight AA2847 to somewhere called Nexus Point. That flight was important. I didn’t know why yet, but the system wanted us to notice it. I settled back against the wall, pulling my salvaged blanket tighter. Around me, the airport’s fluorescent lights hummed their monotonous song. In the distance, I heard shouting as the blanket distribution turned into a brawl. Survive 7 days. That was all I had to do. I closed my eyes and began counting the hours until my next move. I woke to the sound of crying. It was soft at first, muffled, like someone trying desperately to hide their breakdown. I opened my eyes to find the terminal dimmer; they must have switched to night lighting. My interface read 3:47 AM, Day 2. The crying was coming from a figure huddled near the window, silhouetted against the tarmac lights. I recognized the body language before I saw the face. Player 44, the chubby martial arts kid. “Hey,” I said quietly, approaching. “You okay?” He jumped, wiping his face quickly. “Player 66. Yeah, I’m… I’m fine.” His interface was visible on his wrist display. Balance: $23.50 $26.50 spent in less than a day. My stomach tightened. “What happened?” He laughed bitterly. “I got hungry. Bought a sandwich. Then I got thirsty. Bought water. Then I thought, might as well get something for tomorrow, right? So, I bought another sandwich. And chips. And…” He trailed off. “I’m an idiot.” “You’re panicking,” I corrected. “Different thing. Same result.” “I’m going to die in here.” He looked at me with desperate eyes. “Please. Team up with me. I can protect you. I’m strong, I can—” “Protection isn’t the problem,” I interrupted. “Resources are. And if I team up with you, your spending habits become my problem.” His face crumpled. “So you’re just going to let me die?” I should have walked away. The rational, survival-focused part of my brain screamed at me to cut loose the dead weight. But another part, maybe the stupid part, remembered what it was like to be young and scared and in over your head. “Listen,” I said, sitting down next to him. “I’m not carrying you. But I’ll make you a deal. I teach you how to survive on nothing, and you watch my back when I need to rest. Equal partnership. You follow my rules exactly. No improvising. No panic buying.” “Deal?” He nodded frantically. “Deal. Yes. Thank you. Thank you.” “First rule,” I cut him off. “Stop thanking me. Gratitude makes you weak. Makes you feel like you owe me. We’re partners, not charity case and savior. Got it?” “Got it.” “Second rule: never, ever announce free stuff on the public channel. That was you with the bakery, wasn’t it?” He had the grace to look ashamed. “I thought… I don’t know. I thought people would appreciate it.” “You created a stampede. You know what happens in stampedes? People get hurt. Resources get hoarded. And you make enemies.” I leaned forward. “In this game, information is more valuable than money. You give it away, you’re giving away your edge. Understand?” “I understand. Do you?” I studied him. “What’s your real name?” “James. James Chen.” “Okay, James. I’m Maya Patel. And starting now, we survive together. But only if you can prove you’re worth the investment.” His jaw set with determination. “What do I need to do?” I smiled. “First lesson: Airport Infrastructure. Come on.” Over the next two hours, I taught James everything I knew about surviving in institutional spaces. The maintenance closets that were rarely locked. The employee break rooms with microwaves and, sometimes if you were lucky, forgotten leftovers. The loading docks where delivery trucks occasionally left pallets of supplies unattended for precious minutes. But most importantly, I taught him about people. “See that guy?” I nodded toward a middle-aged player in a business suit, pacing and muttering to himself. “He’s about to crack. Watch.” Within five minutes, the man had purchased a $40 sandwich and a $50 bottle of wine from the duty-free shop. He ate and drank with frantic urgency, barely tasting anything. “He’s not surviving 7 days,” James whispered. “No. He’s not built for deprivation. But watch what happens next.” Sure enough, an hour later, the man approached other players, trying to sell his remaining wine. “Thirty dollars! It cost me fifty! Come on, someone!” No takers. Alcohol wasn’t essential, and everyone was hoarding cash for food and water. The man’s face darkened with rage and fear. “That’s when things get dangerous,” I explained to James. “When people realize their mistakes and start getting desperate. Stay away from them.” James nodded, absorbing everything like a sponge. By dawn of Day 2, I’d spent nothing. James, now operating under my guidance, had spent nothing additional. My stats were manageable: Hunger: 65% Thirst: 72% Energy: 68% James’s stats were worse—Hunger 45%, Thirst 53%—but improving with the sugar packets and water I’d shown him how to obtain. The morning announcement came. “Day 2, Hour 18. Current Player Count: 97. Eliminations: 3. Average Remaining Balance: $31.20.” Three people had already lost. Either by overspending, death, or somehow leaving the game zone. The reality of the situation was setting in across the terminal. I could see it in the way players moved—slower, more cautious, eyeing each other with suspicion. “Maya,” James said quietly. “What do you think happens to people who get eliminated?” “I don’t know. But I don’t plan to find out.” That’s when we heard the screaming. The scream came from Terminal D, shrill and full of genuine terror. James and I ran toward it, joining a stream of other curious and concerned players. We found a crowd gathered around Gate D12. At the center lay a body. A young woman, maybe 25, her face pale and eyes staring at nothing. Next to her, a shattered water bottle leaked its contents across the floor. “She’s dead,” someone whispered. “Oh god, she’s actually dead.” A player in medical scrubs pushed through the crowd, checked for a pulse, then sat back on his heels. “Definitely dead. But I don’t see any obvious cause.” My eyes caught something on her wrist display. Balance: -$3.75 “She overspent,” I said aloud. The crowd turned to look at me. “Her balance is negative,” I continued, pointing. “The game rules said overspending results in elimination. This must be what that means.” “That’s insane!” someone shouted. “They killed her for going three dollars over?” “We agreed to the rules,” another voice called back. “We all heard them.” The medical player stood up, face grim. “Whatever the cause, we should move her somewhere respectful.” “No.” The electronic voice of the system cut through everything, emanating from hidden speakers. “Bodies of eliminated players will disappear automatically within one hour. Do not interfere with the process. All players are reminded: Overspending, death, or leaving the game zone will result in elimination and a 120 million debt.” “Would anyone like to quit now?” The silence was absolute. “Negative debt will be transferred to your real-world accounts. Think carefully.”

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In my past life, the historic Saint Jude’s Chapel caught fire during a charity gala. I physically stopped my husband, Julian, from rushing into the inferno. Julian walked away without a scratch. His “distant cousin,” Mia, who was trapped inside, perished in the flames. After that, Julian treated me exactly as he always had—painting my portrait, discussing literature, playing the loving husband. Until the night I went into labor. He locked me in the master bedroom and lit a match. Through the door, he whispered, “You should taste what it’s like to be swallowed by the flames.” I was burned alive. Only after I died did I learn the truth. Mia wasn’t some poor distant cousin of the family. She was Julian’s mistress, the love of his life that he’d been hiding in plain sight. I opened my eyes and found myself back at that moment. Staring at the roaring fire in front of the chapel, I looked at Julian, tears streaming down my face. And I let go of his hand. “Julian… Mia… Mia is still inside!” 1 “Help! Fire! Somebody call 911!” I woke up to the frantic screaming of my assistant, Harper. I sat up, cold sweat drenching my evening gown. The phantom heat of the fire still clung to my skin. I could feel the searing pain in my abdomen, the sensation of my water breaking, the smell of smoke and burning flesh. I remembered pounding on the door, my voice raspy and broken. “Julian, please… let me out… the baby is coming…” The fire had roared, getting hotter, hungrier. Julian had stood on the other side of the glass French doors, looking like a Greek statue, cold and unmoving. I watched him pour a canister of gasoline onto the threshold, ensuring the fire would consume me completely. I gasped, my eyes snapping open. “Miss Evelyn? Miss Evelyn, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” “Don’t be scared, Miss Evelyn. Harper is right here.” Those words. In my last life, those were the last words I heard. When Julian locked me in, Harper had tried to break the door down. Julian’s bodyguards beat her with batons. Through the crackling flames, I heard her sobbing, “Don’t be scared, Miss! I’m coming to get you!” Then her voice faded. As the fire licked my knees and the smoke filled my lungs, I heard her whisper one last time, “Don’t be scared… I’m going with you.” I grabbed Harper’s hand. It was warm. It was real. She was alive. “Harper,” I stammered, “What day is it? What’s happening outside?” 2 It was the night of the Saint Jude’s Charity Gala fire. By the time Harper and I made it to the courtyard, the historic chapel was already an inferno. In the orange glow of the flames, I saw Julian. He was running frantically. He was wearing the bespoke cashmere coat I had custom-ordered for him from Italy, but the belt was missing, and he’d lost a loafer. He rushed over, his brow furrowed, his voice trembling. “Mia… Is Mia still inside?” I lowered my eyes to hide the coldness in them. In my last life, I died never understanding why Julian hated me so much. We were childhood sweethearts. He was the heir to the Pierce dynasty; I was the daughter of Senator Sterling. A match made in old-money heaven. I never wronged him. When the Pierce family stock tanked and his father had a stroke, I was the one who begged my father to pull strings and bail them out. I saved his family’s legacy. But after I died, my spirit hovered over the ashes, and I heard his venomous words: “Evelyn Sterling, if it wasn’t for you… if it wasn’t for you, Mia wouldn’t be dead! You say you’re innocent? What about Mia?! She was pregnant with my child!” “You deserve to burn. It’s called karma.” That’s when I knew. He hated me for “forcing” him to marry me, for taking the spot that belonged to his true love. And he hated me for stopping him from saving her that night. I didn’t know he had a lover. The so-called “cousin,” Mia, was just a stray he picked up and kept under his nose. “I’m asking you, where is Mia?!” Julian screamed, shaking me. My eyes filled with tears on command. I looked at him, grabbed his arm one last time, and then released him. “Julian… Mia… she’s still in there!” This time, without me in the way, Julian could finally chase the tragic romance he wanted so badly. And so could I. 3 Julian charged in. He literally shoved me aside. The look in his eyes screamed, Don’t you dare stop me. He was going to save his damsel in distress. I “tripped” and fell to the ground, feigning a leg injury. I tried to stand up, then collapsed again, sobbing theatrically. “Julian, don’t go! It’s too dangerous!” The crowd buzzed with gossip. Because of a massive blizzard grounding flights, half the city’s elite were stuck at this estate for the weekend. Julian wasn’t just performing for me; he was performing for the entire social registry. People stared. Some mocked, some pitied. A hand reached down to help me up. It was Scarlett, a frenemy from a rival family. “You okay, Evie?” she asked. Before I could answer, Harper burst into tears. “How can she be okay? Look at her! Mr. Pierce is heartless…” I gave Harper a mental high-five. Outwardly, I wept into my handkerchief. “It’s not a big deal… I’m just worried about my husband. He… he just cares too much.” “The girl inside is his grandmother’s niece, his cousin. Julian is such a family man; he couldn’t bear to see his grandma heartbroken.” The crowd went silent. The looks of pity intensified. Someone whispered, “But that fire is massive…” I ignored them, playing the role of the devoted, terrified wife. Minutes felt like hours. Finally, Julian emerged. He looked like hell. His back was scorched, and his right leg was dragging uselessly behind him. Apparently, a beam had fallen on him. Rescue workers had found him pinned in a corner, shielding Mia with his body. Mia was wrapped in the wet cashmere coat I bought him. Aside from being a bit woozy from the smoke, she was completely unharmed. The paramedics tried to put them both on stretchers. But Julian, obsessed with being the hero, refused to let anyone touch her. He gritted his teeth and carried her out himself, despite his shattered leg. Such grit. Such passion. I watched this display of psychotic devotion and wailed, throwing myself toward them. Julian didn’t even look at me. He only had eyes for Mia. Even as he was on the verge of passing out, he held her hand and screamed at me to get the best doctors for her. If the context weren’t so tragic, I would have applauded. Instead, I cried until I was hyperventilating, acting completely useless. When Julian was finally patched up and brought back to the Pierce estate, his mother, the matriarch Mrs. Pierce, greeted me with a flying teacup. Crash. The porcelain shattered at my feet. “Evelyn! What kind of wife are you?!” Mrs. Pierce screamed. “Julian went out perfectly fine, and look at him now!” “He wanted to run into a fire! Why didn’t you stop him?!” 4 Déjà vu. Last time, I stopped him, and she blamed me for the death of her “niece.” This time I let him go, and she blamed me for his injury. I didn’t say a word. I just fell to my knees. Scarlett, who had followed us, scoffed. “Mrs. Pierce, how is this Evelyn’s fault?” Mrs. Pierce realized there were outsiders present and shut her mouth. But Harper wasn’t done. She kept her head down but spoke loud enough for the cheap seats. “The Mrs. is being unreasonable. Mr. Pierce insisted on rushing in. He even shoved Miss Evelyn to the ground to get away from her.” “Miss Evelyn hurt her leg because of him! What else was she supposed to do?” “And let’s be real, Mr. Pierce came out holding that ‘cousin’ like she was his wife. It was… embarrassing.” Mrs. Pierce turned purple. She wanted to argue, but seeing Scarlett’s judgmental smirk, she turned her rage on Harper. “You’re just a servant! Who gave you permission to speak?” I covered my face with my sleeve and bit down on the blood capsule I’d hidden in my cheek. “Harper is my staff… I will discipline her… Mother, please don’t be upset…” I coughed violently, spraying a mouthful of fake blood onto the pristine carpet. Gasps filled the room. I rolled my eyes back and fainted dramatically into Harper’s arms. Chaos ensued. I kept my eyes shut, smiling internally. Let it burn. Just wait until they find out about Mia’s pregnancy. If I hadn’t died in my last life, I never would have known Mia wasn’t a cousin. She was an orphan Julian met on a business trip. He didn’t want to bring a mistress home less than a year after our wedding—it would anger my powerful father and ruin his reputation. So he invented the “cousin” story to keep her under his roof. A “cousin” living in the house. The master of the house. And a pregnancy during a mourning period for the late grandfather. If this got out, the scandal would be delicious.

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On the day my family gathered to celebrate my eighteenth birthday, my phone buzzed with a series of bizarre text messages. “Darling, you are not human. Please be careful not to reveal your identity.” “In a world overrun by humans, you must survive.” 1. My hand froze, hovering over the birthday cake. A smudge of frosting smeared onto my phone screen. My mom, sitting right next to me, noticed. She poked my forehead gently. “You’re eighteen now, Chloe. Still so messy…” Her voice trailed off. Her finger lingered on my forehead a second too long. I don’t know why, but a primal instinct kicked in. I locked my phone screen instantly before she could lean in. Mom looked a little hurt, but she recovered quickly with a smile. “My baby’s all grown up. Keeping secrets now.” She shifted her gaze across the table to my cousin, Tyler. “Why is everyone looking at their phones today?” I felt a pang of guilt. How could I doubt my own family over a spam text? Maybe it was post-exam stress. I had just finished my SATs, and my brain was fried. For a split second, I actually believed the text. It had to be a prank. Some senior prank, maybe? “You’re not human”? Please. Why not tell me I’m the heir to the throne of Genovia while you’re at it? I definitely didn’t buy it. I glanced at Tyler. He was only a few hours younger than me, practically my twin. Was he the one messing with me? Just as I was about to check the sender ID, another message popped up. “MEMORIZE THIS. Humans use the following methods to identify Mimics. We use these rules to blend in.” “1. Before the age of eighteen, Mimics and Humans are indistinguishable.” “2. Humans do not possess special abilities. Mimics awaken an ability after turning eighteen.” “3. The Golden Rule of the Costco Food Court: The hot dog and soda combo is always $1.50.” “4. Humans vastly outnumber Mimics. This is not our world. Remember this.” “5. If a Human suspects you, clear your name immediately. Or you will die.” “6. Not all Humans know Mimics exist. Use this ignorance to hide.” 2. I read the list and frowned. What kind of creepypasta nonsense was this? The first part was whatever, but the “special ability” part? That confirmed it was a prank. If I had superpowers, I wouldn’t be stressing about college applications. And the Costco hot dog thing? Everyone knows that. It’s practically an American institution. $1.50 forever. Just as I was about to dismiss it all as garbage, a hand snatched the phone from my grip. “Chloe, are you texting a boyfriend?” Mom asked, her voice sweet but her grip firm. My face burned hot. “Mom!” It wasn’t even about the texts. It was the embarrassment. If she saw this sci-fi roleplay spam, she’d think I was having a mental breakdown from academic pressure. I just wanted to be a normal girl. “Oh? Silence? So there is a boy,” Mom teased, looking at the screen. I felt a sudden spike of panic. But when she handed the phone back, my eyes widened. The messages were gone. Deleted. Vanished. The top message was now from Ben, the class president: Hey Chloe, free tomorrow morning? Meet me at the stadium bleachers? I knew Ben probably wanted to confess his feelings, but my mind was racing. Did Mom delete the texts? Or did I hallucinate them? No. I definitely saw them. Then a thought hit me. A virus. Maybe the messages were programmed to self-destruct after reading? But that would require some serious hacker skills. We’re in a high school drama, not Mission: Impossible. Then, my heart slammed against my ribs. There was one other possibility. 3. “Aunt Helen! My phone is bugging out. Look at this spam,” Tyler said, waving his phone in front of my face. “It’s hilarious.” My stomach dropped. Tyler got it too? If Tyler got it, maybe it wasn’t a virus. Maybe it was a family prank. I looked at Dad. He loves pulling pranks. He’s been really serious lately, but maybe he’s back on his bullshit? I grabbed Tyler’s phone. It was the exact same message. I was about to laugh and tell him I got it too, when Mom’s expression changed. She didn’t just frown. She looked terrifying. She grabbed Tyler’s phone and smashed it onto the floor. Crash. “Tyler,” she said, her voice dropping to sub-zero. “Are you human?” Tyler blinked, thinking it was a joke. He laughed, slapping my shoulder. “Aunt Sarah, what are you talking about? If I’m not human, am I a Mimic like the text says?” He was giggling. He didn’t see Aunt Helen—his own mother—stand up. Crack. Aunt Helen cracked her neck. It sounded like a gunshot. The air in the room grew heavy. Suffocating. “Tyler,” Aunt Helen asked softly. “Tell mom. How much is the hot dog combo at Costco?” Tyler scratched his head. He sensed the vibe was off, but the text was still fresh in his mind. He tried to recall the “rules” but got confused by the tension. “Mom? You hungry? It’s… uh… inflation, right? Like $3.50 now? Maybe $5?” Aunt Helen smiled. The tension vanished. “Right. Exactly right.” She placed a hand lovingly on Tyler’s shoulder. “Tyler…” SQUELCH. Blood sprayed across the dinner table. Aunt Helen had driven a steak knife into Tyler’s neck. Tyler’s head hit the floor with a wet thud. His eyes were bulging, staring directly at me. I stumbled back, knocking over my chair. Mom and Dad sat there, stone-faced. Aunt Helen looked at her son’s severed head with pure disgust and stomped on it. “I didn’t expect Tyler to be replaced,” she spat. “Filthy Mimic.” I stared at the corpse, my brain screaming. Aunt Helen just killed him. Just like that. Where were the police? Why was nobody screaming? And… why did Tyler die when he answered the wrong price? The text said $1.50. He guessed higher. Wait. If the text was a guide for Mimics… and the text told the truth ($1.50)… then a Mimic would know the answer. A human might know. But a panicked human who doesn’t go to Costco might guess inflation. Tyler guessed wrong. So he was human? Or… 4. Aunt Helen wiped her hands on a napkin. Before my eyes, Tyler’s body began to liquefy. It fizzed and melted until it was nothing but a pile of white ash, which seemed to seep into the floorboards. Gone. My jaw hit the floor. Everything I knew about reality shattered. Then came the fear. The text said I wasn’t human. If I’m a Mimic… will they kill me too? Mom wrapped her arms around me. “Chloe, baby. You’re eighteen now. We can’t hide it anymore.” She looked at the smashed phone on the floor. “Tyler wasn’t human. Years ago, Mimics invaded our world. They’re easy to kill, but they replace humans seamlessly. Before eighteen, you can’t tell the difference. The only tell is that only Mimics receive the activation text.” “Tyler got the text. And he failed the test.” Mom’s eyes went dark. She stared into my soul. “Chloe. Tell Mommy. How much is the hot dog combo at Costco?” The room went silent. Dad, Mom, Aunt Helen. Three pairs of eyes, locked on me. If I answer wrong, I die. If I answer right ($1.50)… do I die because I know the rule? Or do I survive because I’m passing as human? Wait. The text was a guide for Mimics. If I answer correctly, I confirm I read the text. My hands shook inside my hoodie sleeves. Think, Chloe. Think. The text said: Use human ignorance to hide. I looked at Mom, feigning confusion and a little bit of teenage attitude. “Mom? Are you serious? Who goes to Costco? That’s for old people. I don’t know, like two bucks?” I narrowed my eyes at her, flipping the script. “Wait. Why are you acting so weird? Are you the Mimic?” Dad and Mom exchanged a look. Then, they smiled. Mom hugged me, tension draining from her body. “That’s my girl! A Mimic would have memorized the price from the text!” Aunt Helen wiped a tear, grabbing my hand. “Oh, Chloe. I was so worried. I’m sorry.” But I saw it. Deep in Aunt Helen’s eyes, there was a flicker of malice. 5. “Mom, don’t we need to call the cops?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. The hug felt cold. “Silly girl,” Mom said. “Mimics don’t leave bodies. No corpus delicti.” She sighed. “Poor Tyler. Don’t mention him around Aunt Helen for a while, okay?” I nodded obediently. I retreated to my room, my mind reeling. One day. That’s all it took to go from a high school graduate to a separate species. Good news: I look human. Bad news: I am a Mimic. Worse news: I am living in a nest of Mimic-hunters. Worst news: Aunt Helen suspects me. 6. I pulled out my phone. I focused my mind. Hide the message. The text reappeared. That was my ability. I could toggle the visibility of the “Mimic network.” I replied to the number: Who are you? No answer. I tried calling. Dead air. The sender was either busy or a bot. I typed again. The Costco rule is a trap. You can’t just answer $1.50. You have to feign ignorance if it fits your persona. A reply pinged instantly. “Thank you, User, for your feedback. The Survival Guide is updating.” “Reward for contribution: Location of Mimic Scent Masker. Stadium Locker 305. Code 5454.” A masker? I needed that. I grabbed my keys. “Going somewhere?”

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