Category: English

I’m a professional scammer. I once posed as the “White Moonlight”—the first love—of a blind heir. I played the role for three years, gave birth to a child, and left. Five years later, I was running a fortune-telling stall. A kid walked up and handed me a thousand dollars. “I want to find out where my mom is.” Just as I pocketed the cash, a woman rushed over. “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” She looked familiar. I thought for a moment. Ah, it’s the real White Moonlight of that blind heir. After a few seconds of silence. I took the money out and handed it back to the kid. “Your mom is here. Here’s your money back.” He didn’t take the money. He just stared at me unblinkingly. “She’s not the mom I’m looking for.” 1 My hand froze in mid-air. A moment later, I turned to Sofia. “Kids will be kids. You should take the money.” She took the cash and grabbed the boy’s arm to leave. He bit her hand, snatched the thousand dollars back. “This is my allowance! You can’t take it!” Sofia hissed in pain, glaring down at him. “Leo!” Then she caught herself, squatting down and softening her voice. “Be good, come home with Mommy. Daddy will be worried.” “You guys ignore me anyway! Just go have another one!” Leo pushed her away, sat back down on the stool properly, and handed me the money again. Sofia sneered, giving me a meaningful look. “Fine, read his fortune. See if his mom still wants him.” From her tone, Leo definitely knew she wasn’t his biological mother. Did that mean Julian knew too? But when I left, I was still using Sofia’s identity. My mind was a mess. But I kept a straight face, took the money, and asked Leo: “Do you know your birth date?” Of course I knew the answer. Ten months of pregnancy, a C-section, pain like I was being ripped apart. Hard to forget. “January 8th, 2020.” He looked at me seriously. “Daddy said it was really cold that day.” I remembered. It snowed that day. The hospital room and the world outside were all white. I always had poor circulation; even with the heater blasting, my hands and feet were freezing in winter. That night, Julian sat at the foot of the bed, warming my feet with his hands. He sat there all night. But he was warming Sofia, not Jane. I looked at the real Sofia standing in front of me and buried those memories deep down again. Then I pulled out some wooden sticks and pretended to calculate. After a while, I said, “You and your mom have no destiny together. Stop looking.” Leo’s lip quivered. “Liar.” “Daddy said Mommy is in the place with the most liars.” 2 I am indeed a good liar. A professional one. I’ve posed as parents, girlfriends, mistresses—always five-star reviews. I played online dating games, scammed guys out of a couple grand then broke up with them to teach them a lesson. I tricked rich kids into opening bottles worth tens of thousands at clubs. … But the biggest con of my life… Was pretending to be Sofia and deceiving Julian for three years. Sofia went abroad, Julian chased after her, got into a car accident on the way, and went blind. He became depressed and withdrawn. Julian’s parents couldn’t stand it, so they found me to impersonate Sofia. To play the role perfectly, I went all in. Learned bass, adjusted my voice, learned to sing. Yes, they were musicians. The band was just getting famous when Sofia chose to study abroad. So they fell apart. The first time I saw Julian, he was sitting by a floor-to-ceiling window, staring at the shadows of trees outside. His eyes were lifeless. I imitated Sofia’s tone and told him I was back. But I didn’t expect his first sentence to be— “Why did you use an erhu in the intro of that demo?” I had imagined countless scenarios where I’d need to act. Crying together, fighting, a warm reconciliation. But never this. So, I stammered for a while and only managed to say: “To promote traditional culture.” Silence fell. Julian tilted his head, confusion in his sightless eyes. Finally. He said, “I want to hear you sing. Our first song.” I sighed in relief. Luckily, I had practiced every one of their songs thousands of times. I knew them by heart. Julian played the piano for me. Even blind, he played beautifully. He just couldn’t see the sheet music anymore. When the song ended, he said: “You sang well. Better than before.” 3 Whether Julian knew of my existence or not, I was a money-grubbing liar. I played his first love for money. I gave birth to a child for money. And for money, I left without looking back. I didn’t deserve him. And I didn’t deserve to be Leo’s mom. Snapping back to reality, I said expressionlessly: “Then you should go to the police station. Lots of liars there.” Leo’s round, almond eyes suddenly turned red. He looked helpless. Sofia smirked. “Can we go now?” Leo reluctantly followed her. He kept looking back at me as he walked away. Looking so aggrieved. I lowered my head, packing up the wooden sticks and charts. Then I adjusted my white wig, limped away without looking back. After turning a corner, I hopped on my electric scooter. Zoomed away. They shouldn’t have recognized me. I had never met Sofia. And I suppressed the urge to peek at Leo for five years. Plus, I was disguised as an old woman. Fortune tellers need to look old to be credible. So, I thought this was just a random encounter. Until the next day. Leo came back to my stall, pulled out a thousand bucks. “Calculate my mom’s name.” I hesitated and asked, “You come out alone every day? Doesn’t your family care?” He shook his head. “Daddy went shopping with that woman. I snuck out.” That woman? He didn’t call Sofia “Mom.” Was she bad to him? I thought about it for a long time, then took the money. Better with me than wasted. I shook the sticks and gave him an answer. “Your mom’s last name is Jane. But the first name is hard to calculate.” “Buy a Heavenly Charm from me, $6480, and I’ll tell you right away.” 4 This time, Leo was crying as Sofia dragged him away. Because I scammed all his toy money and didn’t tell him the first name. He wailed as he left. “Waaaah, Mom really is a big liar waaah, my Transformers and Ultraman waaaah.” He was definitely looking for me on purpose. But who told him I was his mom? Julian? Or his parents? But none of them had a reason to tell him. The kid’s crying was loud. Other vendors cast scornful looks at me. I ignored them. Got on my scooter and left without looking back. I thought the little prince would give up. But for the next few days, he kept coming to my stall. Sending money. I moved east, moved west, even set up in front of a temple, couldn’t shake him. The last time. He wore overalls and a little backpack, sat on my stool. “Big Liar, I want to live at your house.” “…” I packed up quickly and pulled the stool out from under him. Leo landed on his butt. He stood up shakily, patted the dust off, and looked at me with puppy dog eyes. He was really good at playing the victim. Just like Julian sometimes. I pushed down the feeling in my heart, ignored him, and walked away. Rich kid out alone? Impossible without bodyguards. It’s a trap. But after turning the corner, I didn’t get on the scooter. I took a different path and watched Leo from afar. He stood there, hands clasped nervously, staring in the direction I left. Like an exquisite little figurine. His features looked like me, but his aura was more like Julian. The first time I saw him, my heart tugged involuntarily. Almost cried. But my acting has always been top-notch. Half an hour passed. Leo didn’t leave, and no one from the Sterling family appeared. …Is this how Julian treats his son? Because he knows he’s not Sofia’s child, he doesn’t care? An indescribable bitterness surged in my heart. I stared at Leo for a long time, then finally walked back to him. “Let’s go. Come home with me.”

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When I took Leo for his annual physical, the nurse mentioned he was charting a little short and suggested we look into his growth development. I immediately booked an appointment at a pediatric growth clinic. When the results came back, the doctor looked at me, perplexed. “Are you absolutely sure Leo is six years old?” I blinked. “Yes. His birthday was just a few weeks ago.” The doctor pointed to the X-rays. “His bone age indicates he’s closer to five.” “I think I’d remember my own son’s birthday,” I snapped, grabbing Leo’s hand and walking out. I drove straight to the private hospital owned by my best friend, Marcus Bell. He pulled in the most respected pediatric specialist, who didn’t just re-shoot the bone age scan, but also ran a full workup, including a telomere length test. The specialist’s face was grave. “Both the bone age and telomere results are consistent with a five-year-old. If you are certain about his birth date… Mr. Sullivan, I recommend a paternity test.” The world went quiet. A dull roar filled my ears. Thirty minutes later, the nurse handed me the report. The words were black and white, utterly unambiguous: “Paternity Excluded.” I gripped the paper, my hands shaking uncontrollably. “Then where is my son? Where is my child?” 1 Marcus glanced at Leo, who was oblivious, playing with a toy car. “Dean,” he lowered his voice. “The kid… he really doesn’t look like you. But he’s the spitting image of Tia.” It hit me. Six years ago, I was pulled onto a top-secret mission. To insulate Tia and the baby from any risk, I’d lied, telling her I was launching a startup in Africa. I went dark for an entire year. When I returned with a commendation ribbon, a year later, Leo was tiny and thin, looking nothing like the robust infant I’d left behind. Tia had tearfully claimed she’d suffered terrible insomnia after I left, her milk dried up early, and that’s why the baby was so frail. My guilt had been immense. From that day on, I never questioned her, always trying to compensate for my absence. Just then, my phone rang. Tia’s furious voice hit me like a physical blow. “A simple physical exam and it took you this long? You can’t even manage that! God, you’re useless!” I mumbled some vague excuse and got off the line. My gut was screaming that this was the tip of an ugly iceberg, but I knew better than to tip my hand now. I hung up and drove Leo back to the car. He immediately started kicking the back of my seat. “Stop it,” I warned him over my shoulder. He suddenly raised his little fist and, before I could react, slammed it into my eye. My vision flashed white. I swerved, nearly hitting a parked tree. “My mom says you’re just a mooch who lives off her money. You don’t get to tell me what to do!” He wasn’t mine. That vicious, entitled streak was a clear sign. He was an ungrateful little viper. I’d poured my heart and soul into raising him for years, and it was worth less than feeding a stray dog. “Act up one more time,” I growled, “and I swear I’m pulling over and leaving you on the curb!” When we got to Tia’s office building, she was waiting outside, hands on her hips, instantly furious. “Three hours for a check-up? Three hours! Are you going to pay for Leo missing his classes?” The kid, seizing the moment, kicked me hard, spat a glob of saliva onto my shirt, and instantly hid behind Tia. I had to swallow the urge to grab him and shake him. Finding my real son was the priority now. I locked eyes with Tia. “We’ve been married for eight years. If you’ve done anything to betray me, I’m giving you a chance to be honest right now.” A flash of panic crossed her face, but she instantly regained her composure. “Are you losing it? You’re a grown man who can’t hold a decent job or handle one kid, and now you’re trying to gaslight me? Get a grip!” “Apologize to me right now! Or you can forget about your allowance this month!” People passing by stopped and stared, whispering and pointing. “Look, it’s the guy who lives off his wife…” I was about to say something, anything, when Marcus’s call came in. “Dean, I have a lead on the whole Leo situation. Get back here now.” I turned to leave, but Tia grabbed my arm. “You will apologize to me!” I shoved her hand away. She stared at my retreating back, utterly stunned. “How dare you…” I burst into Marcus’s office. He looked worried. “Dean, try to stay calm.” He slid a manila envelope across his desk and opened it. I thought I was prepared for anything, but what I saw obliterated me. Shortly after I’d deployed, Tia had reconnected with her high school sweetheart, Rex Kincaid. She’d gotten pregnant with his child. To ensure her bastard son got citizenship and access to the city’s resources, she had substituted him for my Owen. My real son, Owen, had been dumped on her aunt in a rural, run-down county, with only two hundred dollars a month for his upkeep. I shattered the glass on the desk. “That snake! That viper!” I spun toward the door, ready to drive to her hometown. Marcus grabbed me. “Wait. Owen isn’t there anymore. Every summer, her aunt would essentially rent him out to an old man in the village to take him out begging. They’re transients… they could be anywhere.” Begging. The word was a punch to the gut. I felt the office spin. I forced myself steady. I pulled out my phone and dialed the number I hadn’t touched in six years. “This is Dean Sullivan. Please… I need your help finding my son.” A deep, resonant voice answered immediately. “You are a national asset, Dr. Sullivan. Rest assured, we never abandon our own.” I hung up, my heart tearing apart. My Owen should have been enrolling in the city’s best prep school, not kneeling on a street corner, kowtowing for change. Thirty minutes later, the contact texted me an address. It was in a dilapidated, almost slum-like part of the city. I grabbed my keys and sprinted out. The address led me to a grimy, boarded-up rental room. Before I even reached the door, I heard a child’s panicked wailing. Then came an old man’s furious yell: “That’s all you brought back all day? I’ll beat you to death, you worthless brat!” I kicked the door in, lunged forward, and pulled the boy into my arms. I looked down at his face—a mirror image of my own. I didn’t need the DNA test. This was my Owen. The initial shock of relief gave way to horror. I saw a small space heater with a piece of metal—a branding iron—glowing on top. The boy’s thin legs bore two identical, circular scars. The wounds were festering, weeping pus, and the stench was sickening. “Are you even human?” I roared, kicking the old man square in the stomach. I carried Owen and burst into the ER. “Doctor, fast! My son needs help!” The doctor later told me that a few more hours, and they would have had to amputate. I sat by his bed, watching his pale, frail face, my heart aching with a physical pain. His lashes fluttered. When he saw me, he flinched and tried to shrink back into the covers, his wide eyes filled with pure terror. I gently held his cold little hand, my voice thick with emotion. “I am so sorry, Owen. Daddy was late. You shouldn’t have suffered.” “You’re… my dad?” he whispered, testing the words. I nodded hard. “Yes. And I’m going to take care of you, always.” CRASH! A heavy thermos slammed into the bedrail right beside Owen’s head. If it had hit him, the damage would have been catastrophic. A child’s laugh echoed from the doorway. “Fun! That was so much fun! I got a bulls-eye!” I looked at the thermos on the floor—it had a cute dinosaur print. I’d special-ordered it from Japan last year. For Leo. Tia stormed in, pointing a finger at my face. “Dean Sullivan, are you insane? How dare you have the police arrest my uncle! Go down to the precinct and get him released right now!” Only then did I realize: the old man who had brutalized my son was her uncle. That whole family, a nest of vipers. I gave a slow, cold smile. I stepped aside, revealing Owen, who was still flinching behind me. Tia’s jaw dropped. “L-Leo? What are you doing here?” Rex’s son, Leo, pointed at Owen. “Hey, isn’t that the nasty beggar from my great-aunt’s place?” The disgust in his eyes was palpable. Tia instantly shoved Leo behind her, her eyes scanning me with deep suspicion. Her gaze darted everywhere but mine. “What… what exactly do you know?” she asked, her voice a low trial balloon. “I know the ‘Leo’ you’ve been raising is Rex Kincaid’s bastard.” I smiled, but my eyes felt like chips of ice. She decided to abandon the pretense. Her voice shot up, hysterical. “And what right do you have to feel wronged? Everything you eat, everything you wear, is paid for by me!” She lunged half a step forward, flecks of spittle hitting my face. “You said you were starting a company in Africa. What happened? You came crawling back with nothing! If Rex hadn’t shown me how to run a business, I’d be sucking wind following you!” “And that justifies your cheating? That justifies dumping my son in the middle of nowhere so your bastard could steal his name and his life?” “Yes!” She jutted her chin out, screaming. “Rex knows how to give me the life I deserve! He’s a real man! And I’m happy to have his kid!” She pointed at me, spitting on the floor near my feet. “You are a spineless, worthless coward! And that’s why your son deserved to be a nobody in some trailer park!” She grabbed the glass sitting on the bedside table and threw it at me. I threw up my arm to deflect it, and a shard scraped a bloody line across my wrist. On the bed, Owen flinched violently. His voice was a thin sob. “I’ll be good. I’ll call you Aunt Tia now, I promise I won’t call you Mom. Please, don’t hit my daddy…” A crowd of onlookers had gathered. Murmurs began to rise. “How could a mother be so cruel to such a sweet child?” I stroked Owen’s hair, then pulled a folded document from my jacket pocket and slapped it onto the bedside table. “Divorce. And your bastard is giving my son his name back.” Cutting all ties with Tia was the immediate priority. I had to ensure this snake could never touch Owen again. Tia snatched the document, tore it into confetti, and threw the pieces in my face. “You want a divorce? It’ll be on my terms!” Barely five minutes later, the door flew open. Rex Kincaid stood there, flanked by over a dozen sharply dressed lawyers, a looming, black cloud of suits. Leo, the fake son, immediately darted forward and latched onto Rex’s leg. “Daddy! Dean Sullivan called me a bastard! Beat him up for me!” Rex’s eyes slid over to me, dripping with contempt. “Don’t worry, son. Daddy’s going to make him kneel and apologize.” One of his lawyers stepped forward and flicked a document into my chest. “Mr. Sullivan, take a look.” It was a post-nuptial agreement. When I’d returned from my mission, Tia had played the victim, claiming she felt insecure after my year-long absence. Drowning in guilt, I signed it without a second thought. The agreement stipulated that all assets acquired during our marriage belonged solely to her, and in the event of a divorce, I would walk away with nothing. Rex’s smile stretched ear to ear. “Kneel and beg my son for forgiveness, and I might let you keep that dump of a house. Otherwise, you and your little tramp can sleep under a bridge tonight.” Tia wrapped her arm around Rex, her face smug. “Even if you steal back your son’s name, so what? No house means no residency, and no elite schools!” “Keep the ‘dump.’ You earned it.” I picked up the pre-torn agreement, pulled out a pen, and signed my name on a clean corner. Tia bent down to Owen’s level. “Your daddy is broke. Empty pockets. He’s going to take you begging, honey. You two can hold hands and beg on the street corner. Ha ha ha!” Owen choked, grabbing my shirt. “Daddy, I don’t need to eat meat. I’m good at working hard. Please, don’t make me beg…” My throat tightened until I couldn’t speak. I pulled him into my chest. “I promise, Owen. You will never suffer like that again. I’m going to make you the happiest kid in the world.” “What a performance!” Rex scoffed, pulling out his phone and shoving a video in my face. “Take a look—you’ve officially been evicted.” The screen showed my living room. My personal assistant was tossing my belongings into massive trash bags. Then the camera panned to my study. My computer—the monitor smashed, the CPU tower shoved into a recycling bin. The hard drive held my most recent, classified research—work that, if successfully implemented, could completely eradicate the Ebola virus. I immediately dialed my secure contact number, summarizing the situation in three clipped sentences. A calm, grave voice responded: “Order received. Immediate action.” Less than three minutes later, the video on Rex’s phone suddenly shifted tone. A swarm of people in specialized tactical gear poured into my house. A man in sunglasses said something to the assistant, who instantly went slack-kneed and collapsed to the floor, terrified. Next, several agents carefully knelt by the recycling bin, retrieving the damaged PC parts. They handled the hard drive as if it were a priceless relic, placing it gently into a secure box. Rex’s face darkened instantly. “Dean Sullivan! You call in a few thugs and think you can scare me? You forget who’s backing me?” Tia puffed out her chest. “Rex and I land all those major contracts because he has a big-shot backer! The man’s name would make you faint! Apologize now, and we might still forgive you!” I gave them a look of pure contempt. “You mean the CEO of Aethel Biotech, right? The one who funneled ninety percent of their contracts your way these past few years? How else do you think a mediocre pair like you could run a company?” Rex and Tia stared, their shock undisguised. They hadn’t expected me to know the puppet master. Tia quickly recovered, raising her chin defiantly. “So you know! Good! Now kowtow to my son, or I’ll make sure you can’t get a job in this entire city!” The agent on the recovery team called back. “Dr. Sullivan, the drive is secure. Data intact.” I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Thank you. Please have the contents of my study delivered to my office…” I didn’t finish the sentence. Tia suddenly lunged and smacked the phone out of my hand. She stood, hands on her hips, screeching. “You want your things? Forget it! You’re not taking a single thing—not even a pin!” My patience snapped. I pulled the hospital phone off the wall and called security. “Inpatient Room 502. Send guards immediately. Clear out all non-essential personnel.” Rex glared at me, slamming his hand on the bedside table. “Hey! I’d like to see who in this city has the guts to challenge me!” He spun to his entourage of lawyers and muscle. “Take him out! Cripple Dean Sullivan! Double pay for everyone this month!” The thugs instantly surrounded us, fists aimed directly at my face. I tightened my grip on Owen, and slammed my elbow into the jaw of the guy who charged first. At the same moment, the hospital security guards burst in, joining the chaos. The room erupted into a brawl. IV poles crashed, and the bedside table overturned. My arms locked around Owen, shielding him. I spotted a gap toward the door, but Rex suddenly grabbed a shard of broken glass and lunged at my son’s body. “Die, you piece of trash!” I kicked him hard in the gut. He screamed, stumbling backward into the wall. Just then, another wave of men surged into the room—a team of black-suited security professionals. Rex’s eyes lit up when he saw the lead man. He rushed forward, a sickeningly ingratiating smile plastered on his face. “Mr. Rhodes! You’re here for me, right? Did the CEO of Aethel finally agree to that dinner? I’ve been waiting for days…” Mr. Rhodes walked right past him. He stopped directly in front of me, his voice deferential. “Dr. Sullivan. My apologies for the delay. I hope you and the young master haven’t suffered too much.”

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1 Before the Thanksgiving break, Ken promised he’d spend the entire break with me, helping with wedding preparations. But the night before the holiday officially began, he called to say something had come up at the lab and he wouldn’t be able to make it back. Ken has always been the cool, aloof, scholarly type. I should have trusted him completely. But just a few minutes before his call, I’d received a text confirming a hotel room booking in his name. I stared at the message, stunned. It was a well-known hotel for couples. At first, I thought my stuffy, unromantic professor had finally learned a thing or two about romance. Then he called with his excuse about the lab. Like hell I’d believe that. I floored the gas pedal and sped over. The room door was unlocked. A beautiful young woman, wrapped in a bath towel, was sitting cross-legged on the bed with a laptop. She didn’t seem surprised to see me. In fact, she offered a sweet smile. “Hello, Ms. Bernstein.” I narrowed my eyes and looked at Ken. His back was to us, deep in a phone conversation, completely oblivious to my arrival. “Ms. Bernstein, I’m one of Professor Miller’s students. My name is Zoe,” she said, her smile creating two charming dimples. “We had some data we hadn’t finished processing. The professor was worried that being in the lab so late, just the two of us, might damage my reputation if someone saw us. So he brought me here to work. Please don’t misunderstand.” She finished with a playful stick of her tongue. My heart sank like a stone. Ken was a man of few emotions, his world revolving around his experiments and his teaching. He’d never shown any particular concern for any woman. That included me, his fiancée of five years. But now, Zoe was telling me that Ken had gone out of his way to book a hotel room, all for the sake of her reputation. A bitter taste filled my mouth. Suddenly, I didn’t care about being poised and graceful anymore. “If you’re here to work, then work. Who are you trying to impress, sitting there with your bare arms on display?” The girl froze. She clearly hadn’t expected my sudden outburst. Her beautiful eyes instantly filled with tears. “I’m sorry, I’ll get dressed right now.” As she stood up, I noticed she had Ken’s jacket draped over her legs. The commotion finally caught Ken’s attention. He hung up the phone, his face a mask of surprise. “What are you doing here?” “I’m here. What about it?” My tone was sharp, and he realized I was angry. With an almost imperceptible sigh, the man started to pack his things to leave with me. “And get rid of that damn jacket,” I snapped, pointing at the coat in his hands. “You know I’m a germaphobe. How dare you let some clueless girl touch my things!” The tension in the room was thick. Zoe’s face was as white as a sheet. Ken frowned at me, but he put down the jacket and left with me. It was the first time I had ever lost my temper in front of him. In the past, a girl with a face as punchable as Zoe’s wouldn’t have escaped without a few slaps from me. But Ken was a refined, well-educated man. To fit the image of a professor’s wife, I had curbed my temper significantly. But he didn’t see it that way. “Zoe is just a kid. You shouldn’t have been so harsh with her.” A kid? I let out a cold laugh. “What kind of kid goes to a couples’ hotel with her professor? Ken, are you trying to sabotage your own career?” Ken slammed on the brakes. The sudden stop sent me lurching forward. “Audrey, watch your mouth! We were just there to process data!” I couldn’t remember him ever raising his voice at me like that. Ken was perfect, the object of countless young girls’ affections. But his mind was always on his experiments, and he never gave anyone outside his academic circle a second glance. That’s why I’d always felt so secure with him. But now, he had changed. “Ken, this is the first time we’ve ever fought over another woman.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, his face etched with exhaustion. “I don’t want to fight. You’re being unreasonable.” “I’m going to stay somewhere else for a few days. You need to cool down. We’ll talk when you’re ready.” The September night air in the city was chilly. Without a moment’s hesitation, my fiancé left me on a deserted street and drove away. I pulled my coat tighter around me. Suddenly, I had a feeling this wedding was not going to happen. I went home that night and came down with a high fever. I slept for a full day and night before I remembered that today was the day Ken and I were supposed to try on our wedding dress. But I’d been sick and hadn’t reminded him, and he hadn’t sent me a single message. Instead, Zoe’s social media was updated. The first post was a picture of a table laden with desserts, captioned: [Master said that eating sweet things makes you feel better. So Master doesn’t worry, I’m going to eat all of this!] My breath caught in my throat. I had asked Ken to take me to that dessert shop countless times, but he was always either “too busy” or he’d forget and stand me up. An indescribable feeling spread through my chest. I kept scrolling. The second post was taken at a bridal salon. She was wearing my custom-made wedding dress, a sweet smile on her face. Behind her, Ken’s gaze was tender. They looked like a loving couple. The caption read: [A little birdie told me to help out~ Master asked me to try on the wedding dress and give my opinion. Everyone, help me out, is there anything wrong with this dress?] My mind went blank. When I came to my senses, my hands and feet were cold. Trembling. A wave of nausea washed over me. It was like finding a swarm of cockroaches in a garden I’d lovingly tended for five years. The flowers were still there. But it was disgusting. For a moment, I wanted to march right up to Zoe and tear that dress off her. But you can’t just swat at cockroaches. It only makes things messier. I called my brother and asked to borrow one of his handsome friends. Then I instructed my housekeeper and driver to prepare some expensive gift baskets. Finally, I made a reservation at the most famous restaurant in the city. The next morning. I treated Ken’s students to a meal, and as a reward for their hard work, I gave each of them a gift basket. Everyone except Zoe. University students love to gossip. I answered all of their questions truthfully. The looks on their faces were a mixture of shock and disgust. Before the meal was even over, the story about Zoe was all over the campus confession page. After lunch, my brother’s friend, Leo, picked me up right on time to go to the bridal salon. Leo was handsome, with perfect model-like proportions. Compared to Ken’s cool demeanor, Leo had the eye-catching presence of a cover model. Most importantly, Leo was patient. No matter how many dresses I tried on, he was happy to change into a new suit for a photo with me. Thirty-two wedding dresses, and every single photo was perfect. It was an experience I had never had in my five years with Ken. Afterwards, I posted all the photos on social media. The caption read: [My fiancé was busy eating dessert with someone else, so I had to find a stand-in. Everyone, help me choose, which one looks best?] By the time I was done, Zoe’s world had imploded. Someone followed the clues from her social media posts and exposed her on the campus confession page. Zoe’s two-faced behavior at school had already earned her a fair share of enemies. This incident just gave them a reason to pounce. The situation escalated quickly, and Zoe was called into the dean’s office. She came out after a three-hour meeting, pale and with red-rimmed eyes. On her way back to the dorm, she was met with open jeers and laughter. Zoe couldn’t take it. She called Ken in tears, threatening to drop out of school. And so, two days later, Ken once again set foot in our marital home. “Audrey, do you really have to target my student like this?” “Causing such a scene right before the wedding, do you even want to get married anymore?” This was the second time in five years I had seen Ken truly angry. Both times, it was because of the same woman. I’m not one to get angry easily. By this point, I was just tired of it all. “Ken, I need you to understand something.” “I didn’t do this on a whim, and I’m not making things up.” It was a reminder. This whole mess started with him. When he realized this, he was the first to back down. “I don’t understand all that social etiquette stuff. I just do what I think is right without thinking too much about it.” “You told me that girls like to eat sweets. She was crying all night because of you. As your fiancé and her professor, I felt I should make it up to her.” “As for the wedding dress, the designer is going abroad. You were sick, and I was afraid you wouldn’t have time, so I asked Zoe to help.” His calm, steady eyes didn’t seem to be lying. For Ken, offering an explanation was a concession. He hadn’t made any unforgivable mistakes, so I didn’t need to keep pushing. Otherwise, our relationship would be over. “If there’s something you don’t understand, I can teach you. But I don’t like you creating conflict between us because of another woman.” With a man as dense as Ken, throwing tantrums was useless. Stating my needs was more effective than arguing. “And one more thing.” “You may be stuffy and boring in the eyes of the world, but I love that your emotional world is clean and untainted.” “Ken, I don’t tolerate any gray areas. I hope you don’t lose that quality.” The air was finally cleared. A smile spread across Ken’s face as he pulled me into his arms. “Don’t worry. You will always be my only wife.” Ken was never one to procrastinate. As soon as I made my feelings clear, he transferred Zoe to another professor’s supervision. I also went to the school and cleared up the rumors to save her from further embarrassment. Life returned to normal. We went back to the bridal salon to try on the dress again. I don’t like second-hand clothes. So I arranged with the designer to have an identical dress made after the alterations were complete. When I finally put on the wedding dress I’d been waiting for for over half a year, the gloom of the past few days vanished. Every detail of the dress was exactly as I had designed it. The perfect skirt accentuated my figure flawlessly. Ken was mesmerized. He wrapped his arms around me from behind, looking at our reflection in the mirror. “Audrey, you are the most beautiful bride.” Belatedly, Ken became jealous of the photos I’d taken with Leo and insisted on having a photo shoot with me that very day. The dressing rooms were separate.

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I got into a fight with the male lead’s sister. She was screaming at the top of her lungs, “My brother has a gorgeous girlfriend! Does yours?” “My brother has parents who love him and are mentally stable! Does yours?” I sneered. “My brother would eat sh*t if I asked him to. Would yours?” That night, my brother came home after being rejected for the seventh time, looking like his world had ended. Then he saw me squatting at the door, wearing the most ingratiating smile I could muster. He paused, sighing helplessly. “What did you do this time?” Before I could answer, his phone rang. The man on the other end hesitated before saying, “You win, okay?” “But eating that… I really can’t bring myself to do it.” 1 After hanging up the phone, my brother called out to me as I tried to shrink into the shadows and sneak inside. “Mia Jiang, get back here.” I shuddered. Full name. He was actually mad. I slumped my shoulders and shuffled back, looking up at him. My entire body screamed guilty. “Bro.” I called him sweetly, trying to butter him up. But his gaze remained heavy and unwavering. “I didn’t mean to.” I’ve known since I was little that my brother, Julian Jiang, is a villain. And his nemesis is the male lead, who has everything—a successful career and a perfect love life. The male lead has a sister with a big mouth who happens to be in my class. Let’s call her Loudmouth. Every day, she brags in class. “My brother finally succeeded in his confession! Now he has a super beautiful girlfriend. That sister even bought me several dresses. I love them so much!” In contrast, that day my brother came to pick me up thirty minutes late. His eyes were red, and he looked like he’d lost his soul. I tugged at his shirt and asked what was wrong. He forced a smile, bent down, and ruffled my hair. “Nothing. Just… the person your brother likes already likes someone else.” “So what if she likes someone else? If you like her, keep chasing her.” I tilted my head and looked at him. “Are you scared?” After the parent-teacher conference, Loudmouth started sharing snacks her parents prepared. “My parents really love me and my brother. They prepare so many snacks every day, I’m getting tired of eating them.” She spotted me. “Mia, why does your brother always come to the meetings? Don’t your parents care about you?” I put down my textbook and told her seriously, “My brother and I came from an orphanage. We don’t have parents.” “There are people without parents?” Loudmouth gasped. “That’s so sad. There are two fewer people in the world to love you and your brother.” I knew she didn’t mean any harm; her words were just a bit sharp. So I replied, “I have my brother, and that’s enough.” Maybe because we both have brothers, Loudmouth loves sticking to me. Every other sentence is “my brother this, my brother that.” The argument happened that afternoon. Loudmouth said, “It’s so annoying. That pretty sister is already with my brother, but there are still blind people confessing to her, trying to steal her away!” She was insulting my brother. Of course, I couldn’t let it slide. We started arguing, and eventually, the topic returned to our brothers. Loudmouth was smug. “My brother has twenty properties and seven sports cars. Does yours?” “My brother has a gorgeous girlfriend. Does yours?” “My brother has parents who are mentally and physically healthy. Does yours?” … I was speechless. My brother had none of those things. But we were this deep in; how could I admit defeat? So I sneered, “My brother would eat sh*t if I asked him to. Would yours?” That sentence killed the competition. Loudmouth was dumbfounded. After school, I saw the male lead picking up Loudmouth. She was hugging his leg, crying and begging him to eat sh*t. I didn’t dare look again. I stared straight ahead and walked home like a robot. 2 My brother rarely misses picking me up. Usually, if he’s busy, he messages the neighbor, Auntie Wu, to pick me up along with her granddaughter. I waited at the school gate for a long time, but Julian never showed up. Seeing the sky turning dark, I decided to walk home. As soon as I got home, I saw a thick stack of documents on the table. It included my personal info, daily habits, and even details like how I only eat the leafy parts of vegetables. I had a bad feeling. I put down my bag and snuck into my brother’s study. Julian never hides anything from me, so I easily opened his computer. The last song played was “I Once Thought about Ending It All.” Recent search history: “How to leave all inheritance to a minor?” “Top 10 orphanages in the country.” “Will a brother’s death leave psychological trauma on a sister?” … I took a deep breath, shut down the computer, and restored the study to its original state. Then, I called Loudmouth. Thirty minutes later, my brother came back. He was holding a bouquet of undelivered flowers, the corners of his eyes red, his smile forced. If I remember correctly, this was Julian’s seventh failed confession. The person he likes is the heroine. The heroine will always end up with the male lead. My brother is the villain. But he doesn’t know that. He just thinks he’s not good enough. I walked up and hugged Julian’s waist. Looking up at him, I said, “Bro, you’re finally back.” “I cooked today! I made dinner for you.” I brought out a pot of soup with a weird color and a strange smell. “Midterm results are out too!” I handed him three test papers. All three had single-digit scores. Added together, they were less than my brother’s age. Julian’s hand holding the papers started to tremble. I continued to drop bombs. “Bro, my teacher said you should take me to the hospital. She thinks I might have ADHD. What’s ADHD?” My brother closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the light was gone. He hesitated, “I remember you got full marks in all subjects last semester?” “Yeah.” I stirred the soup. “But studying is boring. When I grow up, I want tattoos. Uncle Dragon next door has tattoos all over his arms. So cool.” Julian frowned. “Mia, where did you learn all this?” He lectured me seriously for half an hour. I hung my head and pretended to listen. After the lecture, my brother put on an apron and went to the kitchen. Just then, the phone rang. I looked at him guiltily. Julian paused, sighing helplessly. “What did you do this time?” He answered the phone. The man on the other end hesitated before saying, “You win, okay?” “But eating that… I really can’t bring myself to do it.” Before my brother could ask me what was going on, my smartwatch rang. Loudmouth was crying so loudly her voice echoed through the room. “Waaaah Mia! My brother refuses to eat sh*t!” “He said he can do anything and give me whatever I want. I just want him to eat sh*t, but he won’t!” “Can I trade brothers with you? I want one who eats sh*t!” 3 Dead silence in the living room. I peeked at Julian’s expression. He pushed aside the soup and my test papers, lifting his chin. “Sit.” When my brother keeps a straight face, he’s actually quite scary. I obediently sat opposite him and bowed my head. “Bro, I was wrong.” “Was that call from Lucas’s sister?” I nodded. My brother asked, “Since when?” “What?” I looked up, confused. Julian closed his eyes. “Trading brothers. Since when did you want to trade brothers?” Before I could answer, he started blaming himself. “Sorry, Mia. I haven’t done enough. The company has been in trouble recently, and I didn’t take care of your feelings.” “I know I’m not a good brother. Lucas is… someone like him, it’s normal for you to like him and want him as your brother.” Julian looked dejected. He forced a smile. “I didn’t take good care of you.” Seeing him getting sadder, I kicked my legs, jumped off the chair, and grabbed his hand. “But I don’t want to trade with Sophie!” “You are the best brother in the whole world!” Julian stared blankly at my hand holding his. “But I don’t have twenty properties or seven sports cars.” I shook my head firmly. “Doesn’t matter!” “I don’t have a beautiful girlfriend.” “I don’t care!” “I don’t have parents either.” “I have you, and that’s enough.” “Mhm.” Julian said quietly, “But your brother won’t eat that either…” I shut my mouth immediately. At that moment, someone banged on the door loudly. Loudmouth Sophie’s piercing voice came through. “Mia Jiang! I’m here to trade brothers!” Two more people squeezed into our tiny living room. Sophie dragged the male lead, Lucas, inside. She wasn’t shy at all. She looked around, then fixed her eyes on Julian. Her eyes lit up like lightbulbs. Sophie pushed Lucas towards me with satisfaction and patted my shoulder generously. “I’ll trade you this useless brother of mine for now. You go live in my villa tonight. I’m staying here with Brother Julian.” Lucas, being the author’s favorite son, was perfect in every way. His only flaw was being a “sis-con.” He spoiled his sister, who was thirteen years younger, rotten. Knowing his sister was just acting on a whim, he said awkwardly, “Mr. Jiang, can Sophie stay here tonight? We can discuss the accommodation fee.” “What do you mean ‘tonight’?” Sophie looked at her brother with disgust. “You’re so useless, I don’t want you anymore. From now on, I’m Brother Julian’s sister. I’m living here forever.” She pushed me forward. “Mia, all my dresses, dolls, and snacks are yours. Just say yes and trade brothers with me.” I didn’t expect Sophie to be so obsessed with this trade. Just as I was about to refuse, the silent Julian spoke up. His face was calm. “Okay. She’ll trade.” 4 I ran into my room. Grabbed clothes from the closet and stuffed them into my small backpack. Cheers from Sophie filled the living room. I could vaguely hear Lucas trying to persuade her gently. “How about I stay with you? I’m worried about leaving you alone.” Sophie didn’t care. “Leave the nanny here. You go. Mr. Lucas, we are not related anymore. Don’t call me sister.” Lucas kept trying to persuade her. I sniffled, suddenly wanting to cry. Julian didn’t want me anymore. He thought I was a burden and had been planning to send me away. Even if I failed exams or got tattoos, he wouldn’t care anymore. My brother didn’t want me. The door closed softly. Julian had come in. He took out the messily stuffed clothes from my backpack and folded them one by one. He even remembered to pack my favorite elephant water bottle. After packing, Julian pinched my cheek gently. “Let’s go.” “Bro.” Staring at his back, I mumbled, “Do you not want me anymore?” Julian seemed to stiffen. After a long while, he turned around and smiled again. “How could I?” Liars grow long noses. Sitting in the Chu family car, I hugged my backpack and looked at Julian through the window, trying to memorize his face. He was bending down, listening to Sophie, smiling occasionally. Liar. Next time I see Julian, his nose will definitely be longer. I turned my head away, refusing to look at him. The Chu villa was even bigger than I imagined. The car stopped at the gate, and the heroine, Claire Ji, was waiting there. I’d only heard of Claire from Julian and Sophie. Seeing her in person, I was dazed. Claire held a teddy bear, leaned close, her eyes shining. The evening breeze blew her hair, carrying a faint scent of jasmine. “Little Mia, welcome.” My face felt hot. I buried it in my backpack. “Mhm.” The adults must have communicated because dinner was all my favorite foods. Maybe because I tasted my own dark cuisine earlier, I had no appetite. I ate a few bites and left the table. I almost got lost walking in the villa. Finally, Claire led me to my room. “Go in and see. Do you like the room I decorated for you?” The room had soft carpets, a closet full of pretty dresses, and dolls everywhere. Julian spoiled me, but his small company had just started and was already facing bankruptcy. I had never lived in such a big room. “I like it.” I nodded and added, “Thank you, big sister.” Claire poked my little ponytail and left satisfied. In the middle of the night, I woke up with a stomachache. Maybe the dark cuisine did it. I was sweating cold sweat. I fumbled for the lamp switch but couldn’t find it. My slippers were missing too. Barefoot on the carpet, looking at the pitch-black unfamiliar room, an unprecedented wave of grievance hit me. I squatted down, hugging my knees. Curled up in a ball. The pain came in waves. I gritted my teeth, refusing to make a sound. After who knows how long, whispered conversation came from outside. “Do you think Mia is asleep?” “She didn’t eat much dinner. Text Julian and ask what else she likes.” “The AC seems low. Is she cold?” … The door wasn’t fully closed. It was pushed open a crack. Warm light from the hallway spilled in. Through my sweat-drenched bangs, I looked up with difficulty. “Mia!” The moment Claire hugged me, I gripped her shirt tightly. I was rushed to the hospital overnight. Luckily, it wasn’t serious. When I woke up, Claire and Lucas were still by my bed. Only a dim lamp was on. I moved slightly, and they noticed immediately. “Does it still hurt anywhere?” Seeing me shake my head, Lucas asked, “Can’t sleep? Want me to tell a story?” “Forget it, you only know the same few stories. I’ll tell one.” “Long, long ago…” I fell asleep to Claire’s gentle voice. Closing my eyes, I thought spitefully: If only Lucas and Claire were my real brother and sister. Julian didn’t want me, so I didn’t want him either.

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I am the long-lost heiress, beautiful but, allegedly, brainless. The moment I was reunited with my wealthy parents, the fake heiress set me up to marry the Sterling family’s notorious black sheep. “Marry that country bumpkin? I’d rather die single!” “Do you think I, Lucas Sterling, eat trash?” Just as the fake heiress smirked, Lucas turned and saw me. In the next second, the man who was just roaring turned beet red. He started stuttering. “You’re the sister from the country… You’re actually… gorgeous!” “Don’t look at me like I’m a loser, my dad is loaded! Dad! Buy my wife two villas! Ten Porsches!” “Wifey, what else do you like? Just ask!” The fake heiress’s face twisted in horror. That night, she made an excuse to send me away and sneaked into Lucas’s bed. A minute later, while washing fruit, I heard Lucas’s furious roar from the bedroom. “Where did this ugly monster come from?! Where is my sweet, beautiful wife?!” 1 When Lucas Sterling heard his arranged marriage partner had been switched to a country girl just back from the boonies, he smashed a teacup and threatened to call off the engagement. I had just finished packing when I saw the Sterlings sitting in the living room. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. “Lucas, Zoe is my biological daughter. Naturally, she should be the one to marry you,” my dad said gently, playing the considerate father. But last night, I heard his adopted daughter, Tiffany, crying her eyes out. “Dad, I don’t want to marry Lucas Sterling… he’s a player, a loser…” So, they pushed me forward. “Real heiress for real heir,” they called it. Only fair. I gripped the hem of my shirt and didn’t argue. Compared to my adoptive parents in the village who planned to sell me to an old bachelor for dowry money, the Sterlings wouldn’t treat me badly, at least on the surface. But Lucas didn’t seem to want me. His back was to me, but his voice was icy. “Marry that hillbilly? I’d rather stay single forever!” “Do you think I, Lucas Sterling, have no standards?” Dad looked awkward. Tiffany stood aside, the corner of her mouth twitching up. I took a deep breath, suppressing my trembling. “Dad, I’m not worthy of the Sterlings. I’ve embarrassed you.” The air froze. Lucas whipped around, a frown still etched on his face. But the moment his eyes landed on me, his breath hitched. The anger vanished. His ears turned visibly red. He started stammering. “You’re Zoe… the sister from the country?” His Adam’s apple bobbed. His voice softened instantly. “You’re actually… really pretty.” Silence. I was stunned. Did I hear that right? Tiffany’s smile froze. Lucas frantically straightened his collar, like he suddenly couldn’t breathe. His dark eyes locked onto me, words tumbling out fast. “Don’t look at me like I’m a bum, my dad is super rich! Marry me, and I guarantee you can live off his money forever!” 2 Dad and I looked at each other, confused by Lucas’s sudden 180. Mr. Sterling smiled, though clearly baffled by his son. “Lucas, Zoe grew up in the country, but she is your Uncle Road’s flesh and blood. You were betrothed since you were babies.” He paused, looking serious. “Usually you mess around, but marriage isn’t a game. Don’t let Zoe down…” “Dad!” Lucas interrupted impatiently, the tips of his ears burning. “Just pay up.” When he looked at me, his eyes went soft. Sunlight hit him through the window, making his amber eyes sparkle. “My dad doesn’t really get me, don’t listen to him.” His voice was gentle, almost pleading. “By the way, can I call you Zoe?” He leaned in suddenly. I held my breath. He was close. Close enough to smell the faint cedarwood cologne. Close enough to see the fine hairs on his skin. Close enough that his sharp jawline and slight smile made my heart skip a beat. “Heh…” A chuckle from above snapped me out of it. I realized I was staring. He was clearly pleased, his grin widening. “Seems like Zoe is satisfied with me too.” He leaned in another half-step. “Why don’t we get the marriage license today?” “Th-that’s too fast!” I stumbled back, looking at Dad for help. But the two fathers were already shaking hands, beaming. “I knew these two were a match made in heaven! Old Sterling, get ready for grandkids!” Mr. Sterling laughed, scanning us approvingly. He pulled out a black card and shoved it into my hand. “Here, Zoe, a welcome gift from Uncle!” This time, not only did Tiffany’s face change, but even Dad looked surprised. Was there a lot of money on this card? 3 Mr. Sterling was superstitious and insisted on picking an auspicious date for the license. Lucas acted like I was going to run away, refusing to go home. “Don’t overthink it,” he said, hands in his pockets, trying to look cool. “You just got back, you don’t know anyone. As your fiancé, it’s my duty to keep you company.” I glanced at my parents, who had just seen Mr. Sterling out, and my adopted sister who never looked me in the eye. “Are you close with them?” Before Lucas could answer, Tiffany jumped in, voice dripping with honey. “Lucas used to come over all the time when we were kids.” She tried to take his arm. Lucas dodged behind me instantly, shouting dramatically. “Hey lady, who are you?! I’m a married man!” He buried his face in my shoulder, looking up innocently. “Wifey, from now on I only play with you.” Tiffany turned red, then white. She stiffly took Dad’s arm, forcing a smile. “Dad, Zoe and Lucas get along so well…” Dad tried to smooth things over. “Lucas, Tiffany isn’t an outsider…” But Lucas wasn’t having it. “Sorry, I don’t talk to women other than my wife. Especially nonsense.” He grabbed my hand and dragged me upstairs. He really must have visited a lot. He knew exactly where my room was on the second floor. But when he opened the door, he frowned deeply. My heart jumped. Did I offend the young master? “What? Is the Road family this broke?” “Huh?” I was confused. He kicked the sofa with disdain. “Fake leather.” Pointed at the stuffed animals. “Knock-offs.” Finally, he looked at the worn-out bed. “Is this bed from a dump?” Um… I looked around. It seemed fine to me… Back with my adoptive parents, I slept in a storage room. “Actually, I’m easy to please, you don’t have to—” “What!” He cut me off, voice sharp. “Lucas Sterling’s wife being ‘easy to please’?!” He stormed downstairs angrily. Within an hour, Dad painfully led a team of interior designers into the house. They worked fast, transforming my room. Lucas held my hand proudly, eyes shining like a puppy waiting for a treat. “How is it?” His hand was hot. My brain short-circuited. “It’s hot…” He froze. I blushed and corrected myself. “I mean, the room is great!” I saw his smirk and turned away shyly, only to see Tiffany walking past the door. She stared at the new furniture, face dark. When she looked at me, I felt hatred. 4 It was 10 PM, and Lucas still hadn’t left. Dad, wanting to fulfill Tiffany’s wish, had dragged Mom into their bedroom at 8 PM and hadn’t come out. Strangely, Tiffany, who usually ignored me, was super attentive tonight. “What is Lucas doing?” “Is Lucas asleep?” “Does Lucas want a late-night snack?” It was all about Lucas. I suspected she regretted letting me take the engagement. The last time I saw her, she was outside my door. She wore a sheer silk nightgown that barely covered her thighs. Full “pure lust” makeup, peach lips, hair perfectly curled. “I ordered special fruit for Lucas. Go wash it and bring it up.” Then she walked into my bedroom. Okay… Lucas was a guest; maybe she was helping host. I went to the kitchen and washed the fruit seriously. Suddenly, a huge crash from upstairs, followed by Lucas’s roar. “Where did this ugly monster come from?! Where is my sweet, beautiful wife?!” Then the sound of smashing. I dried my hands and ran up. Tiffany was on the floor, nightgown twisted, hair a mess. Lucas stood at the door, face black. Seeing me, his eyes lit up. He rushed over and buried his face in my neck. “Wifey! There’s a pervert in our room!” Tiffany had tears on her lashes, biting her lip. “Sister, Lucas is a guest, I just wanted to see if he needed a snack…” Lucas exploded. “Asking about snacks dressed like that?! Asking about snacks IN MY BED?!” Then he realized something and shrank back to me, tugging my shirt. “Wifey, it was scary, I almost lost my virtue! Luckily I kicked her off!” Tiffany turned crimson. I dug my nails into my palm to stop from laughing. Lucas was kind of cute. I reached out and patted his head, like I used to do with the farm dog. “Good boy. Let’s go to sleep.”

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I thought my dad was working too hard. That was the only reason. I turned off his alarm. Because of that small, misguided act of kindness, Dad missed a crucial early meeting. Rushing to the office, he was involved in a car accident and died instantly. My mother never forgave me. At the funeral, she clawed and hammered at my chest, sobbing that she wished it had been me instead of him. One New Year’s Eve, she locked me outside in the bitter snow, wearing only a thin nightgown. I had a raging fever of 104 degrees, and she stood on the other side of the frosted glass, asking coldly if Dad had been this cold before he died. The day my acceptance letter to Blackwood University arrived—the most prestigious school in the country—my older sister, Harper, murmured, “If Dad were still here, maybe I wouldn’t have choked on my first try at the entrance exams…” Mom didn’t hesitate. She snatched the heavy envelope and tore my future into confetti. In the middle of the night, I would often wake to the sound of her voice in the hall, begging a silent God to take me, the criminal, and give her Marcus back. Then, six years later, Dad returned. He had completed his secret mission. And when he learned that I was dead, they all went insane with regret. 1 It was the sixth year since Dad’s supposed death when the phone rang. His voice was exactly as I remembered it. “Sadie?” My mind went completely blank. For a horrifying second, I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Tears burst from my eyes, and my throat felt clogged with cotton. I couldn’t form a single word. Hearing my ragged sobs, his voice softened, laced with a familiar, deep guilt. “I know I worried you, baby. I was under deep cover, a federal op. I had to fake my death. It was high-risk, a total black-out. I wasn’t trying to cut you out.” “The mission is over now. I’m coming home tomorrow. Sadie, did you miss your dad? How’s your mother? And Harper? Are they home?” “Never mind, I’ll be there soon enough. Tell them I love them. I have to go, Sadie. See you tomorrow.” I stood there, dazed, the dead phone still pressed to my ear. A tear splashed onto the half-taped Blackwood acceptance letter I’d been trying to piece back together. I wiped it away fiercely. I needed to call Mom. To call Harper. Tell them Dad was alive! He hadn’t died in a senseless crash; he had been a hero, fighting the good fight. I hadn’t killed my father. I wasn’t the curse. But as I finally tried to dial them, I realized. They had both blocked me on every platform. Every single one. It doesn’t matter. I know where Mom works. I ran out the door and soon found her on the corner of the busy avenue, her figure instantly recognizable. She was in her State Trooper uniform, standing ramrod straight beside her cruiser, talking to another officer. After Dad died, Mom had joined the Highway Patrol. It felt like a perverse, belated attempt to atone for, or perhaps, repair, the crash that took him. I stared, greedily taking in the slight smile that touched her lips during the conversation. I started to run towards her. “Mom!” For the first time in six years, I could call her name without bracing myself for the cold blade of her disgust. But before the sound could fully escape, a hand clamped brutally over my mouth, dragging me backwards. I was shoved violently into the back of a black sedan. The door slammed shut, rattling my teeth. The air in the cabin reeked of stale blood and desperation. The man who’d grabbed me only had one ear. He grabbed my hair, yanking my head back, his eyes dark, surging with pure, venomous hatred. “Do you know why I took you?” He slapped me hard across the face, then grabbed my head again, slamming it against the window in a fit of savage release. “It’s because of your goddamn father! That son of a bitch killed all my brothers! He’s a lowlife piece of trash! I want him to suffer! I want his whole family to suffer and die!” Tears streamed down my face from the pain, but I bit back, yelling: “No! You’re wrong! My father is a decorated federal agent!” The man let go of me, grabbing the steering wheel, his mouth twisting into a terrifying grin. “Agent! Hah! It’s because your ‘agent’ finally called you today that I was able to track you down, you little pest!” He slammed his foot on the gas, aiming the car straight for Mom’s position, his eyes bloodshot and feral. “To hell with your hero! To hell with your hero’s family! You’re all going down to pay for my crew!” My vision tunneled. My heart pounded so hard I thought it would shatter my ribs. Mom. My mom. I hadn’t told her Dad was coming back. Everything seemed to slow down. I twisted my body, sinking my teeth into the man’s remaining ear, and with my hands locked on the steering wheel, I wrenched it with every last ounce of strength I had. The black sedan veered violently off the intended path and slammed into a utility pole. The world went dark instantly. When I opened my eyes, I saw the smoking wreckage of the car and the blood on my own face inside the mangled vehicle. I looked down at my own body. It was transparent. Ah. I had died. It was such a pity. We were only one day away from being a real family again. Mom wouldn’t make me kneel at Dad’s grave anymore, begging for his forgiveness. Harper wouldn’t look through me, pretending I wasn’t her sister, treating me as a punching bag whenever her classmates made fun of her for having no father. I missed the warmth of her hand when she used to hold mine back when we were kids, and Mom and Dad were busy. I accepted my death quickly, though I didn’t understand why my soul had drifted out. “What the hell is going on here? Is this some kind of lunatic trying to cause mass casualties on a Tuesday?” “Thank God the street wasn’t packed, or this would have taken out a dozen people.” “I was almost hit! I’m never walking this way again!” The chattering crowd was quickly moved back, and Mom, along with a few other officers, approached the wreck. I drifted to Mom’s side, desperately hoping she would recognize one of the dead victims inside as her daughter. But she just glanced inside, wrinkled her nose, and moved her eyes away. It’s okay, I told myself. She just hates looking at accident scenes. A small, silver charm, the Seraph Charm, fell from my transparent neck and rolled to her feet. She bent down and picked it up. My eyes brightened. Now, Mom. She’ll know it’s me now, right? We had designed the charm on my eleventh birthday. My zodiac sign was the Sheep, but because of Dad’s secret work, the charm also housed a tiny GPS tracker, and my name was engraved on the back. When Mom put it on me, she had smiled. “This is your lucky charm, Sadie. Your guardian angel. With this, wherever you are, Daddy and I can always find you.” I watched her, holding my breath. But she simply handed the charm to a detective who had just arrived. “This probably belongs to one of the victims in the car,” she said flatly. “Make sure you log it in the evidence report.” Mom! You don’t even recognize my lucky charm? How are you ever going to find me now? Silent, I followed her as she efficiently managed the scene. A familiar officer, a former colleague of Dad’s who often ate dinner at our house, walked up to her. He offered a faint, strained smile. “Congratulations.” Mom frowned, confused and annoyed. “For what?” He paused. I heard him mutter under his breath, “You haven’t heard? Marcus is back. I just heard him on the phone with dispatch; he was calling home. Maybe the details haven’t been released yet…” The noise of the street was too loud; Mom hadn’t heard his whisper. She took a step closer. “Heard what?” He cleared his throat, changing the subject. “Oh, nothing. I just heard about Sadie getting into Blackwood. That’s huge news! Congratulations.” Hearing my name, Mom’s face instantly darkened. “Did that little curse tell you that?” The colleague quickly objected, shaking his head. “No, no.” He looked disapprovingly at Mom. “Laura, you’re still blaming Sadie? That was never her fault, not really…” Bound by protocol, he couldn’t say more. But that single, small defense of me triggered an intense, emotional meltdown in Mom. “Not her fault? Then whose fault was it? Who asked her to be a self-righteous little savior? Because of her, I didn’t even get to see Marcus one last time!” Her voice was a ragged scrape. The accident scene seemed to drag her back to that devastating day six years ago. “Do you know? Six years! I still dream of Marcus, a bloody, broken mess on the road, blaming me for not coming home faster, demanding to know why Sadie turned off his alarm!” Her voice was raw, squeezed from her throat. Her eyes were tragically bloodshot. “Why, why did she have to be my daughter! Why is the person who took him away the one who looks back at me every day!” If I hadn’t been her daughter, she could have torn apart the drunk driver who killed Dad in court, demanding he pay with his life. Instead, I had been her daily torment, a constant reminder of her pain. I reached out, wanting to wipe away the tear that escaped her eye, but my transparent hand passed right through her cheek. I wiped again, stubbornly. Mom. I wish I had died that morning too. But I’m glad I didn’t. Otherwise, who would have protected you today? I couldn’t let that happen. Dad’s colleague sighed, his expression complex. He patted her shoulder and pivoted the conversation. “This wreck is strange. We need to ID both bodies and figure out the cause. We’ll need to shut down this whole block.” Mom nodded, grabbing caution tape with the other officers. My soul followed her, pulled uncontrollably. I looked back one last time at my own corpse, feeling an inarticulate sadness and injustice. If only Mom could have recognized me. Then she wouldn’t have said those terrible things. The crash meant Mom was finished early, and she came straight home. The half-taped Blackwood acceptance letter still sat on the dining table. Mom walked past, picked it up, and tossed it into the trash can. A moment later, the phone rang. It was my high school teacher, Ms. Rodriguez. Her voice was tight with worry. “Hello, Sadie’s Mom? Can you reach Sadie? I’ve called her so many times today, but she won’t answer. Is she okay?” Mom answered dismissively. “Who knows.” There was a moment of charged silence on the other end. The teacher sounded like she was barely holding back rage. “I’ve wanted to say this for a long time: What kind of mother are you? Do you have any idea that Sadie paid for every semester with scholarships and part-time jobs? She was starving at school!” Ms. Rodriguez always looked out for me. She was close to Mom’s age and had a daughter my age. Once, I passed out from hypoglycemia in class, and she rushed me to the clinic. She called Mom repeatedly, but Mom never offered a single word of concern. After that, Ms. Rodriguez often brought me extra lunch, claiming her daughter had too much. The teacher’s voice caught. “She was too scared to even get sick. She studied until she broke. I remember every time she came in first place, she’d ask me so hopefully, ‘If I get a perfect score, Mom and Harper will be happy, won’t they?’…” But the next day, I would show up with the test taped back together, giving a shaky smile. “Mom and Harper were just having a bad day yesterday. I’ll try to score even higher next time.” Mom interrupted the teacher impatiently. “What does that have to do with me?” Her coldness pierced me like an ice pick. “She deserves it, you understand? She killed her father. She doesn’t deserve a good life. If her dad knew we were letting her thrive, how could he forgive us?” It took the teacher a long time to speak. She sounded utterly exhausted. “She is a good kid. She got into Blackwood. Please, be kinder to her.” Mom merely said, “She won’t go. She’s going to spend her life atoning for her father.” The teacher gasped in shock, but Mom hung up the phone. As soon as she did, Harper, back from whatever she’d been doing, walked in the front door. Mom’s impatience vanished, replaced by instant, overwhelming tenderness. “You’re back? What do you want for dinner? I’ll make it right now.” Watching the brilliant, loving smile Mom gave Harper, a creeping, unbearable ache started to eat at my heart. In Mom’s eyes, Harper was the last pure connection to Dad, the blood that flowed between them. She was showered with praise, tucked in gently when she had nightmares. I was also their daughter, but I had forfeited all right to her kindness. Harper sat on the sofa. “I don’t have much of an appetite. Just make whatever.” I sat next to Harper. Like I used to when we were small, I reached out and took her hand. This time, Harper didn’t yank it away. She didn’t slap me or snarl at me to get lost. I smiled, feeling a brief satisfaction. As I smiled, tears started to fall, silent and unseen. It was just then that I realized I couldn’t feel any warmth anymore. Harper was a year older than me. She had failed to get into her college of choice on her first try and had ended up repeating her senior year with me in the same high school. One day after school, I cut through an alley and saw her surrounded by a few lowlife townies who always lurked outside the school gates. They were pushing and shoving her. Harper said something, and a skinny guy with bleach-blond hair backhanded her across the face. His enraged scream echoed down the alley. “You little tramp! You listen to me. If you don’t come party with us right now, I’ll upload all those private pictures of yours for the whole world to see!” I ran up and stepped in front of Harper, shoving the blond guy away with all my might. “Get away from her!” The thugs weren’t intimidated. They checked me out, and the blond guy reached out, trying to grope me. “Well, well, look what we have here. A little sister wants to join the fun?” I slapped his hand away and then slapped his face, just as he had done to Harper. That was like throwing ice water onto a burning flame. Their rage exploded. “Damn it! You asked for this!” I crouched down, curling into a ball as countless fists rained down on me. In my peripheral vision, I saw Harper hiding in the dark corner, phone in hand, trembling, crying. It’s okay. Hit me. Just hit me. Harper was my family. I had to protect her. Dad was gone. If anything happened to Harper, Mom would be destroyed. I repeated it like a mantra, over and over, trying to block out the pain of the blows landing on my ribs and head. “Shit! Someone’s coming! The tramp called someone!” After what felt like forever, the punches stopped. The gang scattered. Mom appeared instantly, running, her eyes scanning the alley with desperate, panicked worry. She rushed past my bruised, curled body on the ground, flying straight to the corner where Harper was huddled. She held her, rocking her and whispering soothing words. I was so jealous. Mom’s embrace must be so warm. I stood up, stumbling toward her. I just wanted Mom to hug me, too. My body ached, but I knew if she just held me once, the pain would stop. I reached out and gently gripped the hem of her jacket. I looked up and met Harper’s eyes. They were wide and pleading. She pointed at me. “Mom… It was her idea. She brought me here…” Everything turned upside down. Mom whirled around, her eyes blazing with collapsing fury. A torrent of cruel, vile words poured from her mouth, crashing down on me. My ears were ringing, but I only remember the last sentence. “You curse! Killing your father wasn’t enough? You won’t be happy until you destroy us all!” She took Harper and walked away. I followed their retreating backs, but the thugs had returned and grabbed my wrist. Their touch felt sickening. Mom. Mom. I screamed her name as loud as I could. She never slowed down. She never looked back. It was nightfall when I finally limped home. The door was locked. I sat down outside, my back pressed against the cold wall. Sometime in the middle of the night, Harper opened the door. Her face was shrouded in shadow; I couldn’t see her expression. “Don’t tell Mom what happened today. Those private photos were taken by my ex, and I can handle it myself.” She threw a bottle of iodine at me. “Sadie, don’t think for a second that what you did today makes us even.” “You took Dad away. You let people laugh at me. You owe me.” She didn’t let me in. I sat in the darkness of the hallway, applying the antiseptic myself. Later, I must have fallen asleep because I was dreaming. I dreamt of that morning six years ago. Dad handed me his phone and told me to turn off his alarm. I asked him innocently, “Why? You said the meeting tomorrow was really important and you couldn’t be late.” Dad stroked my hair. “The plan changed. I have to do this.” “You have to turn the alarm off. I need to be late tomorrow. This is your mission.” “If anyone asks, you can’t tell them I asked you to. You have to say you did it because you thought your dad worked too hard. Do you understand?” I asked, “Can’t I tell anyone? Not Mom or Harper?” “No one. It’s important, Sadie. Otherwise, Mom, Harper, and I will all be in danger.” “You can do it, right? Our Sadie is the little hero who protects her family.” I nodded solemnly. “I promise, Dad.” I did well, Dad. Mom and Harper were eating dinner in silence. Neither of them mentioned me. Dad’s usual chair had his bowl on it, filled with rice. Mom and Harper followed their ritual, placing his favorite dishes into it, year after year. It was as if he might pull out the chair and sit down any second. No one spoke willingly. Since Dad left, it was like the life had been sucked out of the house. I felt a pang of anger and hurt. Why? I was gone all day. Why didn’t you even ask? They hadn’t even set out silverware for me. The tears fell, unstoppable. If you knew I was never coming back, would you finally put out my plate? Would you finally put my favorite food in my bowl? Mom’s phone rang. Due to her job, it was never on silent. She looked at the screen, hesitated, then answered. I drifted close, hearing the detached voice of a medical worker. “Hello? Is this Sadie’s mother? I’m calling from St. Jude’s Hospital. Your daughter’s remains have been placed in the morgue.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387246”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

A murder in the city. A city-wide APB. But Lila Monroe, a precinct intern, secretly replaced the bulletin with a love letter to my husband, Detective Mark Vance. The internet erupted. Criticism and outrage flooded in. “A love confession on an APB?” “So unprofessional!” “Misuse of public resources! Neglect of duty!” “He’s married—is he having an affair with the intern?” “Disgusting!” “I hope his wife, the Chief Forensic Pathologist, takes a scalpel to them both!” My husband was suspended. I watched silently. Because in my last life, I caught Lila’s scheme early. I stopped her, reported it, and she was fired. Drunk and devastated, she fell into a river and drowned. My husband blamed me for her death. Later, during a case, I was taken hostage. Mark didn’t try to save me—he provoked the kidnapper, cornering him. I bled out on a dirty floor, a knife in my chest. Watching from above, I saw no grief on Mark’s face—only savage satisfaction. “Evelyn,” he spat at my body, “if not for your pettiness, Lila would be alive!” “It was just a love letter! Was her life worth taking for that?” “You owed Lila a life. Today, you paid.” Mark packed my ashes into fireworks and set them off over Lila’s grave. I could not rest. Then I opened my eyes—and was reborn. 1 I was back. One year earlier. Sitting in the task force briefing room. The entire department’s most urgent priority was solving the “927 Homicide.” A beautiful university student, out for a nightly jog, had been dragged into a park, assaulted, and brutally murdered. The case sent shockwaves through the city. Public outcry was deafening, and our superiors demanded a swift resolution. As the Captain of the Homicide Division, my husband, Mark Vance, was under immense pressure. His eyes were bloodshot, his voice raw from consecutive sleepless nights. There were no surveillance cameras on the section of road where the attack happened, making the investigation incredibly difficult. But after extensive canvassing, the team finally found a blurry image of the suspect, captured on the dashcam of a car that had passed the park at the time of the incident. The resolution was terrible, a mosaic of pixels that completely obscured his face, but it was our only lead. Mark was in the middle of dictating the details for the APB. “Suspect is a male, estimated age between 35 and 45.” “Gait analysis shows a slight inward turn of the left foot. Stride is average, pace is brisk.” “Wearing a black hooded sweatshirt, dark blue cargo pants…” “A fifty-thousand-dollar reward is offered for any information leading to the arrest of the suspect…” Mark spoke slowly and meticulously. When he finished, he looked at Lila, who was taking notes. “Lila, you get all that? This APB is critical to the case. There can be no mistakes. Every single word has to be one hundred percent accurate.” Lila had just graduated and was still an intern. “Got it, Captain! Your voice is so steady… so magnetic. I wasn’t just listening with my ears; I was listening with my heart.” Her eyes shone with undisguised adoration. “Hehe, just the sound of your voice could give a girl chills… the good kind.” She was openly flirting with him, right in front of me, his wife. It was clear she saw me as nothing more than thin air. “That’s enough nonsense. Get to the comms room and issue it, now!” Mark feigned a reprimand, but there was no heat in his words. Only indulgence. It was precisely this indulgence that had allowed the little troublemaker to become more and more reckless, daring to pull a stunt of this magnitude. “On it!” Lila chirped sweetly. “Captain, I promise to complete the mission you’ve given me!” She grabbed her notepad and skipped off to the communications room. As she passed me, she shot me a smug little arch of her eyebrow. That triumphant look was identical to the one in my memories from my past life. In my previous life, shortly after she left, I’d remembered we needed to add information about the suspect’s shoes to the APB. I’d chased her down to the comms room and found her in the middle of altering the bulletin. She had deleted the entire suspect description. And replaced it with a fawning tribute to my husband. I had been furious. I stopped her immediately, saving the department from humiliation and preventing Mark from becoming a public laughingstock. Professionally and personally, my conscience was clear. I was defending the dignity of the law and protecting my family. How was it my fault that Lila, consumed by shame, got drunk and died? But what did it get me? Only in my last life, as the killer’s knife pierced my chest, did I finally see Mark’s true face. My husband was a man incapable of reason, devoid of gratitude. He was a monster in a policeman’s uniform. I had saved him, and in doing so, destroyed myself. The memories of my past life were like a corpse preserved in formaldehyde, every detail painfully sharp. Reborn, I wouldn’t be so foolish again. So this time, I did nothing. I let Lila work her mischief. I glanced at Mark’s profile. A cold smile played on my lips. Mark, your world is about to come crashing down. After Lila left, the case meeting continued. Mark picked up the autopsy report I had submitted. “Dr. Reed, based on the victim’s wounds, can you determine the type of weapon used?” Though we were married, in public, we always addressed each other by our professional titles. We kept things separate. Except when it came to that little siren, Lila. Then, all of Mark’s principles vanished. I had worked overtime to complete that report; I could recite it from memory. “The wound edges are serrated. I suspect the weapon was something like a butcher’s knife or a boning knife.” Mark nodded. “That suggests the killer likely works as a butcher, a chef, or in a similar trade. That’s the demographic we need to focus our search on.” Mark dispatched officers to canvass businesses near the crime scene. A moment later, Lila breezed back in. A thick cloud of perfume preceded her. Female officers rarely wore perfume. Especially us in forensics. To avoid compromising an autopsy, we wore no cosmetics at all while on duty. Lila, with her heavy makeup, overpowering scent, and uniform blouse paired with black stockings and high heels, was an anomaly. But as Mark’s gaze fell on her, his tired eyes suddenly lit up. Pathetic. Let a man think with his dick, and his brain turns to mush. “Lila, is the APB out?” A grin spread across Lila’s face. “It’s up, Captain! Want to check your phone and see how it looks?” Mark waved a hand dismissively. “No need. I trust you to get it done.” Lila’s smile widened. She turned and brought in a large bag filled with bubble tea and pastries. “Everyone’s working so hard. I ordered some treats for you all.” The team swarmed around her, praising her for being so thoughtful. Lila came from a wealthy family and was always generous, buying loyalty with small gifts and favors. That, combined with Mark’s blatant favoritism, had made her the precinct’s pet. “Captain, I brought you this ginseng from home. You need to take care of yourself. It breaks my heart to see you so worn out.” She handed him a box of expensive supplements. Her words were a cocktail of flattery and thinly veiled insults aimed at me. “Not like some people, who can’t even look after their own husband. So incompetent.” She was always doing this, trying to drive a wedge between us. In my past life, I would have argued back. But now, I acted as if I hadn’t heard a thing, my head bowed over the case file. In my last life, this case was never solved. It went cold. The victim’s parents lived in a state of perpetual grief, and the case became a stain on the city police department’s record. Since fate had given me a second chance. I wouldn’t just change my own tragic destiny; I would find a way to solve this case. To get justice for the victim and bring peace to her family. A mean-spirited person like her only feels a sense of accomplishment when her provocations get a reaction. My impassive silence clearly disappointed Lila. Her eyes darted around, and a new, malicious idea took root. Swaying her hips, Lila brought a cup of bubble tea over to my desk. “Dr. Reed, I got this for you. I made sure to tell them no ice. I know how you older women are always afraid of the cold, not like us young girls who don’t have to worry about such things.” It was another direct provocation. Even Mark looked uncomfortable. He started to speak, but couldn’t bring himself to scold her. He just pursed his lips and pretended to be deaf. I remained unmoved. “No, thank you. I don’t like sweet drinks.” Lila’s hand froze in mid-air. Her eyes reddened as if she’d suffered a terrible injustice. “Dr. Reed, did I do something wrong? Is that why you won’t take it?” Mark immediately forgot Lila’s provocation and turned on me. “Evelyn, Lila was being nice. Why do you have to be so rude?” “We’re colleagues in the same unit. You need to show some solidarity.” Emboldened by his support, Lila pushed her luck. She deliberately tried to force the cup into my hand. “Come on, Dr. Reed. Don’t be like that.” Her back was to the others. Only I could see the scheming look on her face. “Oops!” She “accidentally” tilted her hand, spilling the hot tea all over the back of her own. Like a seasoned actress, tears instantly welled in her eyes. “It’s burning!” Mark rushed over, grabbing her hand and blowing on it tenderly. “It’s all red!” “Does it hurt?” “Should we go to the hospital?” Tears streamed down Lila’s face. “Captain, I… I’m fine… sob…” This only made Mark more distressed. He spun on me, his voice a roar. “Evelyn, you’ve gone too far!” “This is workplace harassment, you know that?” “Apologize to her! Right now!” “Don’t think you get special privileges just because you’re my wife!” The rest of the team gathered around, siding with Lila. “Dr. Reed, even if you don’t like Lila, you can’t bully her like this.” “She’s just a kid.” I ignored them and looked straight at Mark. “Captain Vance, you remember I’m your wife? You remember you’re a married man?” “For a moment there, I thought you’d developed amnesia.” “Or are you also a child who doesn’t understand professional boundaries?” “And as for special privileges, I wouldn’t dare claim any. The only person here who gets to wear stockings and heels to work is Lila.” A flush crept up Mark’s neck. “Evelyn, don’t change the subject! We’re talking about you harassing a colleague!” “I didn’t harass her. I never touched that cup. If you don’t believe me, have the forensics unit dust it for my prints.” “I’m a medical examiner. Trying to frame me is a losing game.” Lila’s face paled slightly. She had clearly forgotten she was in a police station, a place where evidence was everything. Framing someone wasn’t so easy here. So she just cried harder. “Captain, it was… I was clumsy… I spilled it myself…” “It’s just… Dr. Reed glared at me. She’s so intimidating. It scared me.” “She works with dead bodies all day. Who wouldn’t be creeped out?” “I’ve heard old folks say that women who are always around corpses carry a dark energy. It brings bad luck. Curses their husbands and children. They either can’t have kids, or they die in childbirth, and their husbands are destined for disaster…” When framing me failed, Lila resorted to curses. It was a vile thing to say. It wasn’t just an insult to me; it was an insult to the sacred profession of forensic pathology. What is a forensic pathologist? We are the ones who stand beside a cold steel table and scrape a killer’s skin cells from under a victim’s fingernails. We are the ones who find trace amounts of poison in decaying flesh to reconstruct how a victim was murdered. We are the ones who painstakingly compare wound patterns to sketch the murder weapon, leaving a killer with nowhere to hide their methods. We don’t deal in “dark energy.” We give the dead their final chance to speak. We face cold bodies. But we protect the burning heat of justice. The falsely accused are exonerated by our reports. The victims who cannot rest in peace find justice when our expertise forces a killer to confess. These hands of mine have touched dismembered bodies and examined bloated corpses. But they are clean. And they will not be defiled. In the eyes of a forensic pathologist, the dead are never what’s truly frightening. It’s the living. Corpses never lie. Only living people spew poison. Hell is empty, and all the devils are here. She could covet my husband. That man was rotten to the core anyway. I no longer wanted him. But she would not slander the profession I had dedicated my life to. CRACK! I raised my hand and slapped Lila hard across the face. “Lila Monroe, you watch your damn mouth.” A red handprint bloomed on Lila’s delicate cheek. I could see the flicker of triumph in her eyes. She’d been hit, but the homewrecker had achieved her goal of provoking me. Of course, she didn’t show her delight. She clutched her face, the tears falling even faster. “Captain!” “Does Dr. Reed really hate me this much?” “What did I ever do wrong?!” How could a woman like her, who knowingly pursued a married man, have the audacity to play the victim? Mark, like a protective mother hen, rushed forward and pulled Lila into his arms. Then he shoved me violently away. “Evelyn, are you insane? Why are you being so barbaric?!” “I’m barbaric?” I stared at him, a cold, humorless laugh bubbling up. “You’re a police officer. Don’t you understand the importance of forensic science?” “The filth she just spewed, was that human? And you just let her?” “Mark, you’re headed for disaster!” “But it won’t be because of me. It will be because of this little troublemaker.” Mark’s face was beet red. He knew perfectly well that what Lila had said was superstitious nonsense. But he couldn’t bear to see her punished by me. So he gritted his teeth and stood his ground. “Evelyn, don’t make a mountain out of a molehill!” “Lila is just a naive girl. She speaks her mind, that’s all. What trouble could she possibly cause?” He was still trying to defend her when an officer, staring at his phone, froze. He rubbed his eyes as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, then looked again. Finally certain it wasn’t a hallucination, his voice trembled. “Captain! You need to see the official site! Now!” “The APB… there’s a problem with the APB!” Mark was startled. “What kind of problem? A typo?” He took the officer’s phone. One look, and the color drained from his face. I pulled out my own phone and opened the webpage. The page that should have contained the suspect’s information now displayed a few lines of sickeningly sweet text. “Captain, I know you have a wife, but I can’t stop myself from loving you.” “Every time I watch you catch a killer, I think you’re so handsome!” “I’m willing to wait for you, even if I have to be your shadow for the rest of my life. I have no regrets.” “Love, your kitten, Lila Monroe.” It was identical to the letter from my previous life. Not even a single punctuation mark was different. I looked at my petrified husband. Let’s see you get out of this one, Mark. The rest of the team had now seen the altered APB online. The normally bustling precinct fell silent. You could have heard a pin drop. It was as quiet as the vacuum of space. Homicide detectives are a hardened bunch. They can face murder and arson without batting an eye. But now, every face in the room was grim. Many had broken out in a cold sweat. This was a catastrophe. Though it had only been online for half an hour, it had already gone viral. It wasn’t just the hundreds of thousands of hits and tens of thousands of shares and comments on the official site. It had been reposted across every social media platform. #APBloveletter was trending. The comments were a tidal wave of condemnation, sarcasm, and outrage. “My God! I’ve seen it all now! A police APB turned into a love letter? Are they treating this murder case like a joke?” “So irresponsible! Someone needs to file a complaint for this gross negligence!” “The victim isn’t even cold in her grave, the killer is still out there, and you’re pulling this disgusting stunt? What do you think her family feels right now? You’re just rubbing salt in their wounds!” “The killer must be laughing his ass off.” “Is this a police department or the set of a cheesy drama?” “I suggest a thorough investigation into this Lila Monroe. Bet she got the job through connections!” “This is a gross misuse of public resources! Dereliction of duty!” Of course, a few outliers tried to defend her. “I think it’s kind of romantic.” “Yeah, a girl has the right to pursue love.” This, naturally, was met with even fiercer backlash. “Romantic? The detective is married! This is an affair with a homewrecker!” “This is messed up!” “I heard his wife is the Chief Forensic Pathologist. I support her taking a scalpel to these two degenerates!” “Pursuing love is one thing. Pursuing an adulterous affair is unforgivable!” Mark finally snapped out of his stupor, roaring like a cornered lion. “What the hell is this?” “Who changed the APB?!” “Lila, did someone mess with you? Who was at the comms computer? Did someone threaten you?” He stared at her, wide-eyed. Everyone knew what had happened. But Mark was still trying to shift the blame, to protect Lila. But Lila was a spoiled, reckless brat. Seeing Mark’s frantic state, she wasn’t scared at all. In fact, a radiant smile bloomed on her face, and she giggled. “I did it myself, Captain.” “Surprise! Bet you didn’t see that coming, did you?” She took a step forward, her eyes gleaming with a manic obsession. “I love you, Captain!” “So what if you’re married? I have the right to love you! And I want the whole world to know how I feel!” “Don’t listen to those boring people online! Homewrecker? In love, the one who isn’t loved is the third wheel!” “You’re not happy with Evelyn. Only I can save your lonely soul!” She turned, her eyes flashing with defiance as she declared war on me. “Dr. Reed, I hope you know when to quit. You need to face reality.” “You might be able to keep his body, but you’ll never have his heart!” “Mark’s heart is filled with me, Lila Monroe. There’s no room for you anymore.” “You’re the unloved one in this marriage. You’re the real third wheel. If you have any sense, you’ll leave with your dignity intact.” “You can’t beg for love. Don’t use a marriage certificate to hold Captain Vance’s happiness hostage.” “Set love free!” She spoke with righteous conviction, as if she were the heroine of this story. I’d met my fair share of mistresses, but Lila was the first one I’d ever seen who was so shameless, so fearless, who wore her homewrecker status like a badge of honor. She was a complete failure of moral education. But then again. If her worldview wasn’t already twisted into a pretzel, she never would have been stupid enough to swap a wanted poster for a love letter. Lila was still ranting. I remained calm. But Mark had heard enough. He understood perfectly the catastrophic consequences this would have for him. “Lila, shut up!” “You’re insane!” Mark’s hands were trembling with rage. “This is an APB! It’s for catching a murderer! You turned it into a love letter! What will the public think of this department?” “How am I supposed to explain this to my superiors?” “You’ve ruined me!” Seeing Mark genuinely furious, Lila finally realized she’d gone too far. A flicker of panic crossed her face, but there was no remorse. Instead, she immediately put on a show and started to cry. “Captain, I just love you so much, I wasn’t thinking straight… Please forgive me this one time, okay?” “I promise I’ll be good next time, okay?” Her tears were like a fire extinguisher, instantly dousing the flames of Mark’s anger. He was still furious, of course, but he couldn’t bring himself to scold her further. He let out a long sigh. “Lila, what am I going to do with you…?” “Go back to the comms room, delete the letter, and post the real APB. Then issue a press release.” “Just say… just say the website was hacked. That it wasn’t our fault.” Seeing that Mark was no longer raging, Lila’s face broke into the sly, triumphant smile of a fox that had just stolen a piece of rotten meat. I had remained silent throughout Lila’s tirade. I hadn’t argued with her. Not because I couldn’t win, but because her words were so utterly debased. Arguing with trash like her would only lower myself to her level. What was the point of arguing with a shameless creature who had no regard for the law and zero moral compass? It would be like barking back at a rabid dog on the street. But when I heard Mark’s crisis management plan, a cold smile touched my lips, and I finally spoke. Because his plan was even stupider. It would do even more damage to the department’s reputation. “Mark, do you really think that excuse will work? Do you think the public will believe it?” “And what if they do? What’s worse than them not believing it?” “If the police department’s own website can be hacked, if we can’t even secure our own digital territory, how are we supposed to protect the public? That would be an even greater embarrassment!” “Have you lost your mind?” “Instead of taking that ginseng, maybe you should try eating some pig brains!” “The only thing you can do now is issue a public apology! And then you fire this troublemaker, Lila Monroe!” “Someone with such a blatant disregard for discipline has no place in this department!” “The only way to restore the department’s honor is to focus on catching the killer, and fast!” My words were sharp and merciless. Mark was speechless, his face flushing red, then pale. He was furious. “No matter what, we are not firing Lila!” “She just made a mistake! A warning will be sufficient!” “I’m the Captain, and what I say goes!” This man was a lost cause. Even now, he was still protecting and covering for this reckless girl. Just then, the door swung open, and the Chief of Police walked in, his face a thundercloud. “This is an absolute disgrace!” “Lila Monroe, pack your things and get out! Now!” “We have no room for a liability like you in this department!” Lila panicked and grabbed Mark’s arm. “Captain, save me!” “I don’t want to leave you! I can’t!” A muscle twitched in Mark’s jaw. Though nervous, he spoke up for her. “Chief, this was her first offense, and she’s still so young. Can’t you give her another chance?” “You can’t fire her!” The Chief slammed his hand on the table. “Mark, have you lost your mind?” “Do you have any idea how bad this looks?” Mark dug in his heels. He pulled out his badge and slapped it on the table. “Chief, the public is just looking for entertainment. This is a big deal now, but in a few days, there will be a new scandal, and they’ll forget all about it. Who’s going to care?” “We’re police officers. As long as we catch the killer, we haven’t failed in our duty.” “If you insist on firing Lila, then I’ll resign too. I’m partly responsible for this, after all.” “Lila and I will take responsibility together. That’s only fair.” “But the department is already short-staffed. If I leave, this case will be even harder to solve, and the killer will be harder to catch. That would be truly irresponsible to the victim’s family.” “And the public will be even angrier then.” He was using the case to threaten the Chief. Lila’s eyes lit up. She grabbed Mark’s hand. “Oh, Captain, you’re so good to me!” “I knew I wasn’t wrong to love you!” “If you resign, so what? My family owns a company. You can be a manager at my parents’ firm. It’s a much better job than being captain of this stupid precinct!” Mark was one of the best detectives in the city. The Chief was in a bind. The rest of the team immediately chimed in. They had all benefited from Lila’s generosity in the past, so of course, they sided with her. “He’s right, Chief. Lila is usually a hard worker. She just messed up this one time. She’s young, give her another chance. Don’t be so harsh.” “We’re in the middle of a major case. We can’t afford to lose anyone, especially not Captain Vance’s leadership.” The Chief frowned and looked at me. “Dr. Reed, what are your thoughts?” He knew my relationship with Mark, which is why he asked for my opinion.

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The villain of this story is a chatterbox, while I am mute. To maintain his “cool and mysterious” persona, he only opens his mouth around me. As he got more comfortable, his filter completely disappeared. “Got confessed to again today. That girl praised me so much I almost ascended to heaven.” “Why aren’t you saying anything? Jealous?” “I didn’t care about you before, but the way you ignore me is kinda hot. I’m obsessed.” “I love you, you love me, we’re a happy family~” “Alright, since we’re mutually in love, let’s get married after graduation.” My eyes widened, and I rasped out painfully, “I don’t…” The villain clamped a hand over my mouth. “Shh, stop your gibberish. Give me a kiss.” 1 Chase and I stared at each other. It took him a good while to remove his hand from my mouth. “Wait… you can talk?” I nodded, then shook my head. “Yes… but it hurts.” Due to an injury when I was little, I could only manage two or three words at a time. And every word came with a searing pain in my throat. Over time, I just stopped talking and became known as the “mute girl.” After sitting next to Chase for so long, this was the first time I’d spoken. I was truly pushed to my limit. 2 I’ve always known I live in a novel. Alcoholic dad, weak mom, rebellious brother, and broken me. But I’m not the heroine. Just a background character. I thought I’d have zero interaction with the main cast. Until senior year, when I was placed in their class. And ended up desk-mates with the villain, Chase Sterling. Chase was a rich playboy. Cold, violent, prone to fighting at the drop of a hat. At first, I was terrified, afraid I’d annoy him and get punched into orbit. Maybe because I couldn’t speak, and Chase happened to have a soft spot for the disabled. We got along surprisingly well. No matter how much of a villain Chase was, he was still just an eighteen-year-old boy. Arrogant, loves to show off, addicted to shooting air hoops. And, extremely chatty. To maintain his aloof image, he only talked to me. Since I was mute, I couldn’t spill his secrets even if I wanted to. So, I was forced to know the color of Chase’s underwear every day. And the details of his mom fighting his dad’s mistresses. And the affair between the security guard and the cafeteria lady. … I knew way too much. I desperately wanted to rebel and tell Chase I was mute, not deaf. But I didn’t dare. Over time, Chase let himself go completely. He stopped fighting, stopped sleeping in class. Opened his eyes and just started yapping. Even when I pretended to sleep, he’d lean into my ear and whisper nonstop. I couldn’t take it anymore. I pinched his lips together with two fingers. With my other hand, I pressed a finger to my own lips in a “shh” gesture. Chase’s face turned beet red instantly. Terrified, I quickly let go. Unexpectedly, Chase didn’t hit me. He just stayed red-faced for half the class, stealing glances at me all afternoon. Occasionally letting out a creepy giggle. From then on, Chase changed. From a chatterbox to a chatterbox who seemed to like me. 3 Chase was emo. Since I rejected him, he hadn’t spoken to me for three days. I stole a glance at him. Chase was frowning at a book, showing me only his side profile. I had to admit, Chase was even better looking than the male lead, Liam. High nose, thin lips, sharp jawline. But shouldn’t he be fighting Liam for the heroine? Why would he like a mute like me? Sensing my gaze, Chase scoffed. “Fell in love with me?” Scared, I shook my head vigorously and looked away. Actually, I was afraid of losing Chase as a friend. Because I couldn’t speak, I had no friends. No one wanted to communicate with a mute. Except Chase. He could talk my ear off with gossip all day and never get bored. I didn’t want to lose this friend. The more I thought about it, the sadder I got, and tears started to fall. “Sigh.” A faint sigh came from beside me. A box of mints slid in front of me. Chase pulled his hand back, leaning lazily against the window. “Good for the throat.” I sniffled and popped one in my mouth. Peppermint flavor. [Are we still friends?] I wrote on a piece of paper. Chase didn’t answer directly. “I’m taking you to the hospital this weekend.” I looked at him instinctively. He added, “No isn’t an option.” 4 My throat couldn’t be cured. I could actually speak before I was five. Then Mom had my brother, and Dad started hating me. One night, drunk, he choked me. When I woke up, Mom cried and said my vocal cords were damaged permanently. Since then, I haven’t spoken a complete sentence. So when the doctor looked troubled, I didn’t feel much. But Chase kept asking, “She can say two or three words, maybe there’s hope?” “She can vocalize? What does she say?” the doctor asked. Chase replied darkly, “‘I don’t.’” The doctor and Chase talked for a long time. I didn’t know the details; Chase sent me to wait in the hallway. He didn’t come out for a full hour. Suddenly, someone called my name from the end of the hall. I looked up; it was the male lead, Liam. Liam was our class president and also my neighbor. But for the past eighteen years, we weren’t close. Actually, we had zero interaction. I was wondering why Liam would call me. He walked up to me and crouched down to meet my eyes. “Why are you at the hospital? Are you hurt?” I shook my head and pointed at my throat. “Checking your throat?” he asked. I nodded. Liam glanced at the closed office door. “Who brought you?” Even though we weren’t close, he was my neighbor for eighteen years. He knew my parents wouldn’t bring me to a doctor. I opened my mouth. “…Chase.” Just then, the door opened. Chase stood there holding a bag of medicine, backlit. His face darkened instantly when he saw Liam. Liam spoke first. “Her throat can’t be cured.” He meant me, of course. I lowered my head, fiddling with my fingers silently. “None of your business,” Chase snapped impatiently. “Did you take her to a doctor? Did a doctor diagnose her?” “Stop being so self-righteous.” Chase dragged me away. I looked back; Liam was still standing there. “What are you looking at?” Chase’s sarcastic voice sounded. He didn’t wait for my answer. “We’ve been desk-mates for so long, and you barely say two words to me. But the moment Liam asks, you talk.” “But at least you said my name.” “Or else…” Or else what? I asked with my eyes. He huffed. “Or else I’d be jealous.” The boy’s eyes were shining like stars, making my heart race. I wrote on a sticky note: [What did the doctor say?] “Can be cured.” My eyes widened in disbelief. I rasped, “…Can?” Chase nodded affirmatively. He grinned at me recklessly. “But… the process is a bit complicated.”

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I am the villain’s canary. But there’s a catch: I’m incredibly lazy. When the villain went bankrupt, the System told me to humiliate him, dump him, and reignite his fighting spirit so he could make a comeback. I said no. Too much effort to yell. Roman Sterling gripped my chin, his voice fierce: “Everyone else left. Why didn’t you? Are you staying to watch me suffer?” I yawned slowly. “Too lazy to run.” His eyes reddened, and he muttered self-deprecatingly: “I’m a failure now, a broke nobody. I can’t give you the luxurious life you’re used to…” I patted his head. “Okay, okay. Doesn’t it tire you out to talk so much? Come here, let’s take a nap.” So. To keep me from starving, Roman pulled himself together. He worked three jobs a day, running himself ragged. In the original story, this was the time he was supposed to be dating the heroine to deepen their bond. Instead, Roman was at home, kneeling on one knee, meticulously tying the bow on my dress. The System screamed: “What is wrong with you people? You’re breaking the script!” 1 I’m Linnea, the “canary” of the powerful Roman Sterling. And I am lazy. People say Roman is great at keeping secrets because, despite being with him for so long, there isn’t a single photo of me online. Well… Actually, I just stay home all day. Too lazy to go out. Becoming his canary was an accident. After college, I sent a resume to his company. Desired Position: “Do little, earn much.” Bio: “Good taste.” Roman clutched that resume, thought about it, guessed, and still didn’t understand. Driven by curiosity, he interviewed me personally. I explained: “It means ‘good taste, lazy nature.’” He frowned, confused. “Why didn’t you write the whole thing?” I took a sip of water. Speaking at 0.75x speed, I said three words: “Too lazy to.” Roman: “……” Even though the interview was a disaster, I got the job. Roman needed a professional canary to dodge a business marriage. I weighed it in my mind— High pay, low effort. Work from home. I have low energy and poor circulation. Walk two steps, want to squat. Stand up too fast, black out. But my sleep quality is top-tier. Roman really appreciated that. He’s sensitive and gloomy. Childhood trauma, bullied in school, stabbed in the back by business partners… He’s suspicious and tense. Insomniac. Every night, he uses me as a human body pillow. Smells my shampoo. Pinches my waist. Then he relaxes and sleeps like a baby. Besides sleeping, I do nothing. Every day I open my eyes to gifts and money transfers. Truly… The dream job. 2 But now, things are bad. Roman was set up. He’s bankrupt. He’s been MIA for days, dealing with the mess. Dissolving the company, selling assets, paying severance. As for me. He didn’t even see me in person. Just a text. “I can’t afford a breakup fee.” “The gifts are yours. Keep them.” “Leave.” I was devastated. I slept for 15 hours straight. When I woke up, a System was in my head. It said: This is a novel. Roman is the gloomy villain. I am a plot device canary. “Just now, right now!” The System yelled passionately. “Pretend to be a gold digger! Slap him! Call him a loser! Dump him to ignite his fighting spirit!” “Only then can he rise again, meet his childhood crush—the heroine—and start a 200-chapter love triangle saga…” I covered my ears. “No.” Slapping and yelling? Sounds exhausting. The System threatened: “As a tool, your mission is to push the plot. If you fail, you get electrocuted.” I used all my strength to roll over. “Zap me then.” “…” It gave up. Please. I’m lazy, not stupid. If I actually crushed Roman’s dignity… With his personality? Once he bounced back… He’d turn me into mincemeat. 3 Three days later, I finally went to find Roman. The fallen prince went from a penthouse in the CBD to a dark, cramped basement apartment. He had stubble, slumped on the floor, surrounded by smoke and booze. Seeing me, he laughed bitterly. “Didn’t you leave? Why come back?” “What, did I miss a valuable watch or something?” I shook my head and handed him a bank card. “While you were gone, I contacted a luxury reseller.” “This money can help with your debts.” Roman was a generous sugar daddy. Back in his glory days, he made me a VIC at every luxury brand. New collections were sent directly to me. So, my clothes, bags, watches, jewelry… filled a whole room. His voice trembled, disbelief in his eyes: “Those things… you never even unboxed them. You sold them all?!” Um… Actually, I was just too lazy to unbox them. And because they were mint condition, they sold for way more. But if he wants to think I sacrificed for him, sure. Too lazy to argue. Speaking of which, my stomach growled. To cover the awkwardness, I whispered: “I eat very little. I won’t be a burden. Don’t kick me out…” A boss/sugar daddy like him is hard to find. He sniffled. “Okay.” We went downstairs to a hole-in-the-wall spot for a $5 bento box. He pushed the box to me and ate a plain bun with pickles. “See? I’m a loser now. If you stay, this cheap food is your future.” I shrugged. “What’s wrong with it?” I pointed at the food: “Look. Carbs, protein, fiber. Balanced diet. And for five bucks, there’s even ribs? The owner is a saint!” I split my chopsticks and gave him most of the ribs. I lay down all day, low calorie burn. I really don’t eat much. His eyes got redder. “Are you really okay with this?” “Before, you ate…” Yeah, before, Michelin chefs cooked for me. Lobster, wagyu, truffle… everything. So what? I was too lazy to chew. I blended it all into a smoothie and drank it. But not anymore. The blender got repossessed by the bank. I sucked on a sweet and sour rib. Hmm, tastier than a smoothie. Meeting my clear gaze, Roman sighed. And started rambling: “Forget it. You were spoiled. You don’t know real hardship. You’ll learn.” “Your youth is precious. Don’t waste it on me. If you regret it, leave anytime. I won’t touch the money in the card. The bankruptcy is on me…” He sounded like a nagging dad. Old Roman: Cold, gloomy, silent. New Roman: Worrywart. I patted his head to interrupt the spell. “Okay, stop. Aren’t you tired of talking?” “Your eyes are red. Insomnia again? Come here, let’s nap.” I opened my suitcase. Before the bank sealed the house, they let me take a few personal items. I took my pillow and duvet. No matter how hard life gets, a good nap gives you strength. The bed was soft. Warm. Roman didn’t hug me for once. He turned his back, shoulders shaking, crying silently. Just as I was drifting off… He kissed the top of my head. “Linnea, I promise I’ll give you the good life back.” 4 After that day, Roman got his mojo back. He worked three jobs. Sales by day, writing business plans for college kids by evening, food delivery by night. He said if he didn’t hustle, I’d starve. Sigh, I was trying to figure out how to make money lying down. Thinking about it made me sleepy. … Whatever, nap first. Before crawling into bed, I had an idea. Set up a tripod. Livestream myself sleeping. I yawned. Minutes later, deep sleep. Passersby thought it was a bit. If they donated, I’d wake up and say thanks. Someone sent a “Heart”. Nothing happened. I was dead to the world. They sent “Sunglasses”. Still nothing. Their rebellious spirit kicked in. They started spamming gifts to see when I’d wake up. Rainbows, paper planes, hot air balloons… The higher the gift value, the more the algorithm pushed the stream. More people flooded in to watch me sleep. The chat scrolled fast. “WTF, this streamer is a diva. How much to wake her up?” “Why are we watching someone sleep? Boring.” “But she sleeps so peacefully. Jealous.” “Those sheets look comfy. Link?” “Link for the pajamas?” [+1] … When I woke up. I had made $100 in gifts. And a pajama brand sent a DM asking for a collab. Surprise! With this money, Roman doesn’t have to deliver food. Just as I was about to call him… A voice in my head. The System was back. Last time, it called Roman a loser and me a “Loser Pro Max”. After realizing I didn’t care, it left in a huff. But this time. It sounded happy. “Wow, you’re a genius!” “I underestimated you. You’re playing 4D chess!” I was confused. “???” I didn’t do anything. The System excitedly said: “Exactly! Because you did nothing, the plot went off the rails in a weird way!” “Roman has his fight back. AND while delivering food tonight to a luxury apartment, he met the White Moonlight heroine early!” …Huh? So it happened anyway? Does that mean… I’m getting fired?

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Ethan was dying. The only person who could save him, the only perfect match for a liver transplant, was his mother, Sienna Reed. I had begged her for twenty days. Finally, she agreed to return and donate. I sat outside the operating room all day, but she never showed. That same day, Sienna’s childhood friend, Garrett Shaw, posted photos on his social media of their South American Adventure. “Day 20 of our adventure. Dr. Reed sacrificed her fellowship to help my son realize his dream of traveling the world. ” That’s how I discovered that on the very first day I’d pleaded with Sienna to save our son, she was already gone—off traveling with Garrett and his kid. That night, Sienna called me. “Liam, Noah got a perfect score on his finals. His wish was for his mom and dad to travel the world with him.” “You know he doesn’t have a mother…” “I couldn’t let him down. We’ll be back in three days.” “I’ll donate my liver to Ethan shortly after.” Three days later, when Sienna finally arrived at the hospital, all she saw was Ethan’s death certificate. 1 I stood in the hospital morgue, looking down at Ethan’s still, small face. The pain was a physical weight, pressing the air from my lungs. My son had always been such an easy, sweet kid; I barely had to worry about him. Yet, when it mattered most, I couldn’t even guarantee his life. His acute liver failure had blindsided us. The only person who was a match was my wife, Sienna Reed. The day after the compatibility results came back, she left. She’d been accepted into an elite fellowship program overseas. On her first day away, I started begging her to come back and save him. She said the fellowship was a once-in-a-lifetime career opportunity, and she couldn’t sacrifice it. I pleaded for eighteen more days. She refused, cold and distant. On the nineteenth day, the doctor warned me Ethan’s condition was deteriorating rapidly. He needed the transplant immediately. I called her again. She said leaving mid-program would ruin her entire professional career. She told me to transfer Ethan to a better hospital and keep looking for other donors. But the specialty children’s hospital was full; they rejected us. We had no choice but to return to the city hospital. Ethan was pale, his skin translucent from the sickness. His eyes, wide and hopeful, fixed on me. “Daddy, why hasn’t Mommy come to see me?” “Did I do something naughty? Did I make her mad?” I couldn’t find the words. All I could think was that maybe I hadn’t made the severity of the situation clear enough to Sienna. Maybe she genuinely thought we had time. I called her one last time, pulling his primary physician onto the call. Together, we begged her to return. With the witness of a colleague, Sienna finally conceded. She agreed to take two days of leave and fly back for the surgery. But the day of the transplant, I waited outside the operating room from sun-up to sundown. I didn’t get Sienna. I got the crushing news that we were too late. I pulled out my phone, intending to ask her why. That’s when I saw the photo Garrett had sent me. Sienna, radiant, holding his son, Noah, nestled close to Garrett. My hand trembled as I opened Garrett’s public feed. The words were a knife in the heart. “Day 20 of our adventure. Dr. Reed sacrificed her fellowship to help my son realize his dream of traveling the world. ” If Garrett hadn’t posted that, I never would have known the wife my dying son and I had been waiting for was off making another man’s child’s fantasies come true. I grasped Ethan’s small, already cold hand. The world went black with the crushing pressure in my chest. The phone vibrated. It was Sienna. “Liam, Noah got a perfect score on his finals. His wish was for his mom and dad to travel the world with him.” “You know he doesn’t have a mother…” “I couldn’t let him down. We’ll be back in three days.” “I’ll donate my liver to Ethan shortly after.” My mind was a desolate wasteland. Twenty-four hours ago, that promise would have made me leap for joy. Now, I felt nothing but a deep, hollow nausea. My son’s life was less important to her than the fleeting wish of an outsider. Sienna must have sensed my silence. “Liam? Why aren’t you saying anything?” she asked, a thread of panic in her voice. I pulled myself together. “Sienna,” I asked, the words hollow. “Do you know how sick our son is?” She froze. She finally seemed to realize Ethan’s condition was beyond delays. “Liam, relax. I’m booking a flight right now.” Then, Noah’s innocent voice came across the line. “Mommy, the last stop is romantic Paris! Will you come with me?” Sienna hesitated. A second, two. Then she spoke to me. “Liam, my contact at the specialty hospital said Ethan isn’t a total emergency. Three more days won’t hurt. You can be the bigger person and wait for me to get back.” I should have known. Ever since Garrett got divorced and moved back, Sienna’s entire attention had been fixed on him and Noah. She canceled Ethan’s birthday party because Noah had a cold. She always had an excuse: Noah doesn’t have a mother. We need to be the bigger people, Liam. She gave Ethan’s favorite birthday present to Noah. Be big-hearted, Liam. She skipped our family holidays to take Noah to the amusement park. We need to be generous, Liam. She knew we would forgive her. She knew we would always be here, waiting. That’s why she felt entitled to ignore us, to hurt us, with impunity. But this time, I couldn’t be generous. Because my son didn’t have a future. And because my marriage to Sienna was finally, irrevocably over. I hung up and gently smoothed the hair from Ethan’s forehead. Before the scheduled surgery, he had looked at me, full of hope. “Daddy, when I wake up, will Mommy be here?” I had given him a firm answer. “Yes, buddy. You’ll wake up, and everything will be fine.” I let him down. His mother didn’t return, not even for a final look. Perhaps it was a psychic sense, but Sienna started flooding my phone with frantic messages asking about Ethan. I just watched the screen, not replying, not blocking her. The next morning, I arrived at the hospital early to handle Ethan’s final arrangements. I didn’t expect to see Sienna, but there she was. Garrett was rushing into the emergency entrance, clutching Noah. Sienna was running beside him, shouting at a nurse, “A quick line! He needs attention now!” People scrambled out of their way. I didn’t react fast enough, and she slammed right into me. She skidded to a stop. “Liam, Noah suddenly passed out. I need to get him checked out right now.” I simply nodded, taking two steps back to clear the path. Sienna stared at me, bewildered. She couldn’t understand my sudden, silent compliance. Usually, when she prioritized Noah, I would protest or complain. Now, I was just quietly stepping aside. “Liam, don’t be angry. I’m going to donate my liver to Ethan right after this.” She let go of Garrett and reached for my arm. Garrett caught up to her, his hand wrapping around hers. “Sienna, please don’t go.” He looked at me, his eyes full of feigned pain. “Liam, I know you resent Noah for taking Sienna’s attention, but he’s just a kid. Please, cut him some slack.” In the face of Garrett’s tearful plea, Sienna didn’t hesitate. She chose Garrett and walked away without a backward glance. A young nurse nearby patted Garrett’s arm. “Don’t worry, ‘Mr. Shaw.’ Dr. Reed is known for being totally obsessed with her guy. If you ask her, she’ll do anything.” “Not like some of those shameless side pieces who don’t know their place.” The onlookers, like sharks smelling blood, started to whisper. “Wait, he’s the side piece? An adult man being the mistress? And he’s not even discreet about it in front of the actual husband? The nerve.” “Yeah, earlier, when his son was admitted, he introduced himself as Dr. Reed’s husband and tried to get us to call in a retired specialist for the boy.” “What a joke. Serves the little bastard right if he died.” When Sienna and I first married, she insisted on keeping work and home life separate. She never brought me or Ethan to hospital events. She didn’t want colleagues to know about us. When Garrett returned, that changed. She said he was lonely and unfamiliar with the area. She brought him to every hospital function, proudly introducing him to everyone. When colleagues called him “Mr. Shaw,” she would just smile and let them assume. The entire hospital staff was convinced Garrett and Noah were her actual family. Ethan and I were the dirty little secret, the shameless gold-digger and his illegitimate son. Sienna reappeared and blocked my path in the hallway. She leaned in, about to kiss me. I stepped sideways, avoiding contact. “Sienna, this is your workplace.” Her hand froze mid-air. She pouted, a familiar, manipulative gesture. “Liam, stop being mad, okay? I’ll go donate my liver to Ethan right now.” I looked down, masking my emptiness. “It’s not necessary.” Because Ethan was gone. And a mother who broke her final promise didn’t deserve to see him. If Ethan knew his mother, the one he prayed for, had been globetrotting with another family, how broken would he be? Sienna sensed my genuine grief. She pulled out two small boxes from her designer bag. “These are gifts for you and Ethan.” The one for Ethan contained a limited-edition action figure. I stared at it, losing myself for a moment. Last year, on Ethan’s birthday, Sienna was away. Ethan had picked out that exact action figure on a video call. When she finally returned, Noah was already clutching it. Ethan cried for it, and Sienna had coldly chastised him for being selfish and fighting with his little brother over a toy. Now she’d bought the one he’d always wanted. But it was too late. Ethan was gone. Seeing my lack of response, Sienna grew agitated. She grabbed my hand, about to speak, when Garrett rushed back. “Sienna, the doctor says Noah has leukemia. He needs a kidney transplant now.” Sienna’s eyes immediately filled with a frantic panic. “Don’t worry,” she said, her voice shaking as she turned to Garrett. “I’ll get tested right away. I won’t let anything happen to him.” She dropped my hand and started to follow Garrett. “Sienna,” I called out, my voice flat. “Aren’t you going to see Ethan?” She stopped. “I…” Garrett quickly interjected, “Liam, please don’t try to make this a competition. Noah needs Sienna to save his life right now.” Sienna sighed, relief washing over her face. “Liam, don’t be upset. I’m a doctor. Saving lives is my duty.” “Wait for me. I’ll be back in a bit.” With that, she let Garrett pull her away. I watched them go. “Don’t bother, Sienna,” I whispered. Later, I overheard nurses gossiping. Sienna was a kidney match. She had already signed the donation papers and would need a week of recovery before the surgery. Though I already knew the outcome, the news was a sharp, painful stab. I had been running around all day. I found an empty office to rest. As I walked in, I saw Sienna and Garrett locked in a passionate embrace, kissing fiercely. Seeing me, Sienna immediately broke away. “Liam, Noah is sick. I was just comforting Garrett.” I couldn’t stop the bitter sarcasm. “Comforting? Does comfort require you to make out?” Sienna scrambled for an explanation, but Garrett pulled her closer, tears welling up in his eyes. “Liam, don’t blame Sienna. I was the one who kissed her first.” I offered a ruthless smirk. “You must be starving. You’ll eat anything.” I turned and walked out. Sienna followed me. “Liam, let me explain. I only think of Garrett as a brother.” From behind us, Garrett’s voice was shaky. “Sienna, the doctor says Noah’s situation is critical. We need to start the transplant immediately.” Sienna wrestled with the decision for a moment before turning back to me. “I need to donate my kidney to Noah first.” She left, again, without looking back. It was a cruel irony. When her own son needed a liver, she stayed away. When her childhood friend’s son needed a kidney, she committed immediately. Love and indifference were never so clear. If only I had seen it sooner, if only I hadn’t pinned all my hope on her, Ethan might still be alive. In that moment, I gave up completely. I drove home and started packing. All my and Ethan’s belongings. Since I was choosing to end it, I would cut all ties completely. I packed everything, printed the divorce papers, and watched as the first, faint light of dawn broke over the horizon. A new day. I stepped into that morning sun and walked out of the house I had shared with Sienna for ten years. As I hailed a cab, I turned on my phone. Sienna’s frantic messages poured in. “I’m donating my kidney to Noah tomorrow at 9 AM. Come early to take care of me.” “Noah can’t drink or eat after the surgery. Bring some cotton swabs to wet his mouth.” “Don’t worry. Once I recover, I’ll donate my liver to Ethan.” “When Ethan is better, let’s travel the world together. We can see the Northern Lights in Switzerland, ski the Alps, and see all the beautiful sights…” I turned off the notifications, a self-mocking laugh escaping me. Sienna, there is no “us” anymore. At 8 AM, I was taking Ethan’s remains to the funeral home. I turned a corner and ran right into Sienna. “Liam? What is this?” I looked at her, my expression blank. “Sienna, Ethan passed away. His cremation is at noon. Would you like to join me for his final journey?” Sienna stumbled back two steps. “No. That’s impossible. It can’t be.” Garrett steadied her. “Liam, why do you keep lying about Ethan? He’s fine.” Garrett’s deliberate provocation was the last straw. I slapped him, hard, across the face. Garrett licked the blood from his lip and smirked, his eyes challenging me. “Caught in your lie, Liam? Are you so broken you resort to violence?” “Enough!” Sienna screamed, and the chaotic environment fell silent. She took a step toward me, her eyes vicious. “Liam Caldwell, you’re trying to deceive me just because I wouldn’t donate my liver on your timeline? You’re going to this extreme?” She lunged forward and slammed her hand down, flipping the gurney carrying Ethan’s body. With a horrifying CLANG, Ethan’s small, fragile body dropped onto the cold floor between us.

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