Category: English

1 For three hours, I stood at a bus stop in a torrential downpour, waiting for Hugh. He never showed. Just as I was about to give up and call a car, I saw the message he’d sent five minutes earlier: Something came up. Can’t make it. A second later, his assistant posted a photo to her Instagram story. The familiar dashboard of his car. The caption read: *Thanks for the ride home, boss! ~* The old me would have blown up his phone, calling and texting, demanding an explanation. But now? I just tapped the screen and liked her post. Later, when I packed my bags and left without a word, he would fall apart, searching for me like a madman. He would beg, “I can change. Just don’t leave me.” … A once-in-a-decade storm hit the city. After work, my colleagues left one by one, until I was the only one left, finishing up a report. A text from Hugh lit up my screen. [The rain’s pretty bad. I’ll come get you.] I knew it was an olive branch. Last weekend was our wedding anniversary. I’d booked our favorite restaurant, but he never arrived. I waited until they were closing, and only then did I see the post from his assistant, Jenna. A photo of Hugh, his chiseled profile sharp in the dim restaurant lighting. The caption: *Happiest birthday ever. Thanks for the treat, boss! ~* When he finally came home, I showed him the picture. He just impatiently pushed my hand away. “She’s a young girl, all alone in the city on her birthday. What’s wrong with me, as her boss, showing a little concern? Stop making a scene! We can celebrate our anniversary any other year, can’t we?” He was right. We could celebrate it any other year. But couldn’t she do the same for her birthday? We hadn’t spoken since. Today was the tenth day. In the past, I would have been the one scheming for a way to make up. A message like this from him would have sent me over the moon. Now, I felt nothing. I simply replied, [Okay.] We had agreed on six. The curb in front of my office was a no-parking zone, so I walked to the bus stop down the street to wait. By nine, the rain was coming down in sheets. Even huddled under the awning, the storm had soaked the cuffs of my pants. And still, no Hugh. I pulled out my phone to call an Uber and saw the notification. A new post from someone I had on ‘close friends.’ It was Jenna. The picture of his dashboard. That limited-edition model—there were only two in the entire city, and one of them was his. Hanging from the rearview mirror was the good luck charm I’d gotten from a little chapel upstate last year. He’d scoffed when I put it there. “This thing is hideous. It clashes with my car’s interior.” I had to beg him just to let it stay. Remembering that, a sudden sense of release washed over me. I liked the post. He wasn’t coming. The rideshare app showed over a hundred people in the queue ahead of me. I glanced down at my damp clothes and turned toward the bike share rack instead. Hugh wasn’t home when I got there. I took a scalding hot shower and chugged a packet of cold medicine, but as I drifted off to sleep, I could already feel a dizzying fever setting in. I was woken sometime later by the sound of the front door opening. Hugh was home. He must have been surprised to find me asleep already. He walked to the side of the bed and just stood there. I could feel his gaze on me, but I felt too sick to move, so I didn’t. After a moment, his footsteps retreated, followed by the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. The low hum was like a lullaby, and I drifted back into a heavy sleep. When my alarm went off the next morning, my head was spinning. I fumbled for my phone, unable to turn it off immediately. Hugh let out an irritated “tsk,” and the sound finally jolted me awake. I was burning up. My head throbbed, but I had to lead a major meeting today. I dragged my aching body out of bed and got ready for work. When I got to the office, a coworker saw my flushed face and rushed over, pressing a hand to my forehead before fetching me some fever reducers and a cooling patch. A text from Hugh came through. [Are you mad at me?] I didn’t understand. [Then why didn’t you make me breakfast?] Ever since we got married, I’d made his breakfast every single morning, even during our cold wars. Not that he ever ate it. This morning, in my feverish haze, I had forgotten. But his tone, so matter-of-fact, like he was ordering a servant around, made my brow furrow. I typed back a simple reply. [Forgot. Get something on your way.] I was buried in work for the rest of the day and didn’t look at my phone again. Just before closing time, another message appeared. [I’ll pick you up.] I didn’t argue. I agreed. But after waiting downstairs for half an hour, his car was nowhere in sight. My phone rang. It was Hugh. “Are you downstairs?” I scanned the street. “I’m right by the entrance. I don’t see you.” He let out a heavy sigh on the other end. I knew that sound. It was the sound he made when he was losing his patience with me, his jaw tight as he tried to rein in his frustration. He was probably trying to make up for last night, so he reined in his temper and asked, his voice strained, “Did they change the main entrance?” A suspicion began to form in my mind. “Are you at the Sterling Building?” His voice rose, laced with indignation. “Of course I am! You think I don’t know where you work?” He didn’t. Our company had moved to a new office two blocks away from the Sterling Building last year. I had sent him the new address. He’d never even read it. “It’s fine,” I said, my voice flat. “I’ll get home on my own. It’s all one-way streets around there, it’ll be a nightmare for you to get over here.” He was silent for a moment, then hung up. When I walked through the door, Hugh was already sitting on the sofa. It was a rare sight. Usually, I was the one who got home first, the one who cooked dinner and waited for him. More often than not, the food would go cold, and he still wouldn’t be home. When he finally walked in, I would complain, and he would just look at me with cold eyes. “Do you think my whole world revolves around you? Can’t you just eat by yourself?” “But the food is cold…” “If it’s cold, throw it out. Are you really going to start a fight over something so small?” So I learned to stop saying anything. I’d pack his portion away in a warmer, eat my own dinner alone, and then sit in the living room and wait. Tonight, however, he actually got up as I walked in. He followed me as I took off my coat, explaining, “Sandra, I’ve just been so busy, my head’s a mess. I didn’t mean to go to the wrong place.” “It’s fine,” I said, shrugging off my jacket. He studied my face, then added, “And about yesterday… it was late, and the storm was terrible. Jenna lives so far away… and when we got there, her power was out, so I just helped her fix the breaker.” I nodded, my voice neutral. “Okay.” “Are you angry?” I looked up at him, genuinely confused. “No.” That seemed to be the confirmation he needed. His careful expression hardened into accusation. “Yes, you are. I explained everything, and you’re still acting like this. You didn’t even make breakfast, and now you’re giving me the cold shoulder!” It dawned on me then. The old me would have had a complete meltdown over the last two days. Scenes like this had played out countless times over our four-year marriage. And every single time, he would stand back and watch me, silent, as if I were some unhinged actress in a bad play. Looking back, I must have looked pathetic. No wonder he never wanted to come home. But right now, I truly felt no anger. I was just exhausted from working a full day while sick. “If that’s all, I’m going to take a bath.” He stepped closer. “I’ll join you.” “No, thanks. I have a cold. I don’t feel well.” I pulled my arm from his grasp and went straight into the bathroom. A moment later, I heard the front door slam shut. He was gone again. And so, another cold war began. Before, these silences would have sent me into a panic. I’d be a nervous wreck, constantly looking for an excuse to break the tension, like “accidentally” sending him a message and then quickly deleting it. He rarely responded. He never asked what the deleted message said. If I called, he wouldn’t answer. My work would suffer as I obsessed over how to fix things, counting the minutes until I could go home. But now? I felt a profound sense of relief. Being sick, all I wanted was a good night’s sleep, but Hugh’s late-night returns always woke me up. Now, he was sleeping in the guest room, and I could sleep through the night. I stopped cooking dinner for him. He wouldn’t eat it anyway. The project I was leading was entering its most critical phase. I started grabbing breakfast on the go and eating dinner at the office before staying a little later to work. It saved me so much time. I threw myself completely into my work, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. Ever since we got married, my entire world had revolved around Hugh. I’d text him constantly, asking what he was doing, telling him I missed him, that I loved him. He rarely replied, but I never stopped. I hardly ever worked late, always rushing home to cook. But he was always busy—either with work or with friends. I could count on one hand the number of times a month he was home for dinner. Now that he was no longer the center of my universe, my life felt lighter. My work improved dramatically. When the project finally wrapped up successfully, I let out a huge sigh of relief. I opened up my social media for the first time in weeks, only then remembering I had unfollowed Jenna. Curiosity got the better of me. Sure enough, while Hugh and I were in our “cold war,” he had been by her side. They went camping at the beach. She’d gone to a party with him and his closest friends. He looked so happy. The old me would have been on the phone immediately, screaming at him. He would offer a half-hearted explanation, then grow irritated with my “melodrama,” and the fight would end with him storming out of the house. But now, looking at these photos, so clearly meant to provoke me, I felt absolutely nothing. I even had the presence of mind to go through and like every single one. Because of the project’s success, the company was offering me a promotion. The new position was in B City. I had been hesitant, but now, my mind was made up. Leaving the office that evening, I was surprised to see Hugh waiting outside. “I had a meeting nearby,” he said by way of explanation. I opened the passenger door, and there was Jenna. Her smile was sickly sweet. “Sandra! Long time no see. I was just having dinner with Hugh, and he’s giving me a ride home. You don’t mind, do you?” I smiled back. “Not at all.” I closed the passenger door and opened the one behind it, sliding into the back seat. Hugh got in and looked back, confused. He hesitated, then explained, “Jenna gets carsick. It’s better for her in the front.” I just nodded. He glanced at me again, then turned back to the wheel, a frown creasing his forehead. He must have been baffled. I rarely rode in his car, but whenever I did, I was always in the passenger seat. I had once declared it “the wife seat.” He’d rolled his eyes, calling me dramatic. “It’s just a seat,” he’d said. “What’s the difference?” I just wanted to be next to him. That was the only difference. Jenna chattered away in the front, talking about people and projects at his company. I didn’t know any of them and couldn’t get a word in, so I just closed my eyes and pretended to sleep. I must have drifted off, because I was startled when Jenna turned around to ask me, “Sandra, how come you didn’t come to Dave’s birthday party the other night?” Dave’s birthday? I opened my eyes. No one had invited me. “I didn’t know he was having one,” I said softly. Jenna feigned surprise. “Really? But you know how close he and Hugh are.” I just smiled and said nothing. Dave and Hugh were like brothers. Last month, when Hugh got back from an international trip, he hadn’t come home. He’d gone straight from the airport to go stargazing with Jenna in the mountains. When I’d called Dave, frantic, he’d covered for his friend. He didn’t know I’d already seen Jenna’s post. That fight had ended with me in tears and Hugh checking into a hotel for three days. After Jenna spoke, Hugh glanced at me in the rearview mirror, his expression guilty. I ignored him and closed my eyes again. The takeout I ordered arrived at the same time we did. I changed my clothes and sat down to eat. Hugh came out of the bathroom and asked, “Where’s mine?” I looked up, surprised. “I thought you already ate.” His face froze for a second. He sat down across from me, looking like he wanted to say something. The old me would have immediately asked what was wrong. Now, I just wanted to enjoy my food in peace. Finally, he spoke. “About Dave’s birthday… we were still fighting, so I…” I cut him off. “It’s a small thing. It’s in the past. Let’s just drop it.” A flicker of shock crossed his face. He had said those exact words to me more than once. Most recently, at dinner with Dave, when I’d asked Dave why he’d lied to me. Dave had looked at Hugh, then back at me with a smirk. “Sandra, I was just trying to keep the peace, you know?” When I tried to press the issue, Hugh had snapped, “It was weeks ago. Are you ever going to let it go?” After dinner, Hugh showed no signs of leaving. I took the opportunity to pull the divorce papers my lawyer had drawn up from my bag. He glanced at the heading and let out a bitter, angry laugh. “What is this? Threatening divorce again?” He threw the papers on the floor at my feet. I picked them up and held them out to him again. “I’m serious.” “Do you get some kind of sick pleasure out of all this drama?” I didn’t say another word. Anything more would just lead to another screaming match. He slammed the door on his way out. I didn’t care where he went or what he did. I calmly placed the papers on his desk in the study and went back to browsing real estate listings for B City. Hugh didn’t come home that night. I was glad to have the place to myself. The next day, he was there to pick me up after work again. I didn’t refuse. It was a luxury I hadn’t been afforded in years; no point in being difficult about it now. I opened the back door and got in. A strange expression crossed Hugh’s face. “Sandra, why are you sitting… back there?” I looked at him, confused. “It’s just a seat. What’s the difference?” “Just… come sit up front.” I shrugged and moved to the passenger seat. Something hard was digging into my hip. I pulled it out. It was a tube of lipstick. Hugh immediately started stammering. “That must be Jenna’s. She’s so careless, always leaving things behind…” His voice trailed off as he saw the look on my face. I held it out to him. “Then make sure you give it back to her. That brand is expensive.” “I swear, I didn’t know it was there… There’s nothing going on between us…” I cut him off. “Hugh. It doesn’t matter.” “What?” “I said, it doesn’t matter. Whether there’s something going on with you and Jenna… I don’t really care anymore.” The color drained from his face. I turned to look out the window, ending the conversation. From that day on, Hugh started picking me up every day. He stopped going out with his friends. And every day, I would leave a fresh, signed copy of the divorce agreement on the coffee table in the living room. He acted like he didn’t see it, and I didn’t press him. It was inevitable. If I seemed too eager, he would just accuse me of playing games, of trying to manipulate him. One day, as soon as I got in the car, Hugh said, “We got Dave’s nephew into that school. He wants to take us to dinner to say thank you.” Dave’s nephew had been trying to get into a prestigious international kindergarten. I happened to know the director, so Dave had asked me for a favor. If he hadn’t mentioned it, I would have completely forgotten. At the restaurant, Dave handed me a glass of wine. “Sandra, you’re a lifesaver. My sister has been stressing about this for months.” I smiled and accepted the glass, though I didn’t drink. “It was no big deal.” Before our appetizers arrived, a familiar face appeared. “I thought I recognized your voices!” Jenna said, walking over to our table. “Hugh! Dave! Fancy seeing you here.” Then, as if she’d only just noticed me, her smile tightened. “Oh. Sandra’s here too.” She turned back to Hugh, her voice taking on a whiny, girlish tone. “My friend bailed on me. Can I join you guys? Please?” Hugh glanced at me, hesitating. I smiled brightly. “Of course. The more the merrier.” Dave shot me a surprised look. “Hugh, can you peel a crab for me?” Jenna asked, pouting. Then she looked at me. “I bet Hugh does this for you all the time, right, Sandra? Whenever we eat crab, he always says I’m too clumsy, so he just does it for me.” She smiled sweetly. Anyone watching would have thought they were the couple. I had asked Hugh to do that for me once, after seeing another woman’s boyfriend do it for her. He’d just scoffed. “You’re not a child. You have hands.” “But it’s what other husbands do,” I’d argued. “Am I your servant? Can’t you do it yourself?” The table next to us had looked over, and I’d shrunk in my seat, my face burning with shame. I never asked again. I had no idea he was doing it for Jenna. As she was about to say more, Hugh cut her off sharply. He turned to me, his voice low. “She doesn’t really know how… I just help her out sometimes…” I didn’t look up from my plate. “Oh,” I said, picking at my food. “Well, you should help her then.” My response clearly wasn’t the one he wanted. His face darkened. In the end, he didn’t peel a crab for anyone. “Hugh…” Jenna whined. “There’s plenty of other food,” he snapped. “Eat something else.” That weekend, I took the train to B City to look at apartments. I left early, while Hugh was still asleep. I was standing outside a potential building when he called. “Where are you?” I didn’t answer his question directly. “What’s up?” He seemed fixated on the answer. “I asked where you are.” I lied without thinking. “I’m at the office. Working overtime. Why?” His voice was tight, like he was gritting his teeth. “I’m standing right outside your office building. I just asked the guard. No one is working today.” I simply went silent. He didn’t hang up.

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To get the school bad boy’s attention, the Prom Queen paid me a hundred grand to publicly bully her. “If you bully me, he’ll be heartbroken. He’ll definitely step in to protect me!” So, I blocked the Prom Queen at the school gate and screamed: “Just because you’re pretty, rich, and have good grades doesn’t mean you’re special! Stop acting like a princess!” She cried like a tragic heroine, attracting the whole school’s attention. On my way home, the bad boy’s Bentley cut me off. I was about to kneel and apologize when he handed me a platinum card. “Nice work. I’ve hated that little pick-me girl for ages.” “There’s a hundred and fifty grand in there. I’m hiring you to be my girlfriend. Keep destroying her.” 01 I stared at the bank card in front of me, my brain short-circuiting for a second. I looked up like a confused golden retriever. “Huh?” My head was still full of Chloe—our school’s resident princess—gushing about him earlier. “Maya, you don’t get the romance of rich kids like us. Jax likes me, and I like him, but we’re both too proud. Whoever confesses first loses.” “But if you bully me, he’ll be so distressed he’ll have to save me!” Looking at Jax now, leaning against his Bentley, I asked blankly, “I bullied her. Aren’t you mad?” Jax clicked his tongue. “Mad? It was satisfying as hell. You don’t know how annoying she is. Two days ago, she climbed through my window at midnight to deliver ‘homemade love snacks.’ I almost had a heart attack. I said I didn’t want it, she shoved it in my mouth. I had food poisoning all night.” Even though Chloe had serious Main Character Syndrome, to be fair, she hadn’t actually done anything bad to me. Plus, she gave me $100,000. But I firmly believe in customer service. Since I took the money, I needed to play the villain role perfectly to push their toxic romance forward. So, I wiped the sweat from my forehead and let out a cold laugh. “You aren’t even going to ask why I bullied her? I’ll tell you the truth. I’m jealous. She’s rich, pretty, smart, and popular. Do you still feel satisfied now?” Jax gave me a thumbs up. “Honesty is a virtue. A villain admits their jealousy, but a pick-me girl hides it. You just casually admitted your dark psychology. You’re a legend.” Me: “…” Jax crossed his arms, sizing me up, clearly plotting something. “Maya, I appreciate you. Here’s the deal: from now until graduation, you pretend to be my girlfriend. Your job is to keep Chloe away from me. Name your price for the hardship fee.” 02 After saying goodbye to Jax, I walked home with two bank cards, my heart pounding like a drum. I’d already checked the ATM. Between the two cards, I had a quarter of a million dollars. It was an astronomical figure for someone like me. I never expected my life to get this spicy. On one side, I’m the fake villain, the wingman for the beautiful Prom Queen’s romance. On the other side, I’m the fake girlfriend, the bodyguard for the single-since-birth bad boy. I came to this high school to get into college, not to become a double agent. But after the excitement faded, reality hit. Being a double agent is dangerous. If this blows up, I’m getting beat up twice. Chloe is one thing, but looking at Jax—6’2″, muscular build—if he punches me, I’m engaging in immediate dialogue with God. The next morning, I dragged myself out of bed with dark circles under my eyes, deciding to return the money for the sake of my life expectancy. But the moment I stepped into the classroom, I was surrounded. I go to a famous private school. Great campus, top-tier teachers, insane tuition. To boost their Ivy League acceptance rates, the school recruits a few top-scoring students every year. Tuitions waived, scholarships granted. I am one of the “charity cases.” I thought I was on the path to success, but I walked straight into a caste system. These kids are rich, watch too many dramas, and form cliques. They don’t respect teachers, let alone a broke nobody like me. Plus, I have a “pushover” face. So, bullying me is basically their team-building exercise. “Yo, Maya’s here,” my desk-mate sneered, looking at my shoes. “Didn’t I tell you? Wearing knock-offs is fine, just don’t wear the same style as me. Are you brain-dead or deaf? Why haven’t you changed them?” Before I could speak, the gym rep laughed. “Forget the shoes. Come on, Maya. I’m taking you somewhere fun.” My desk-mate looked at him. “Where? The boys’ locker room? Ew.” The group laughed as the gym rep hoisted me up by my collar like a chicken. I struggled, but it was useless. Dammit. I forgot the gym rep is Chloe’s number one simp. If I knew being a villain paid in bruises, I wouldn’t have taken the job. As we neared the locker room, I panicked and screamed: “If you touch me, I’ll tell Jax to beat you up!” The gym rep scoffed. “Jax doesn’t give a crap about you.” “Why wouldn’t he? He’s my boyfriend!” The gym rep paused, then dragged me toward Class 2. “Make way! The bad boy’s girlfriend is here!” He shouted it out, drawing a crowd. Jax was leaning against the podium, chatting. Seeing me being dragged in, his brows furrowed, and he strode over. The gym rep smirked. “Jax, Maya claims she’s your girl. You know about this?” I looked at Jax nervously, terrified he’d woken up sober and realized I wasn’t up to his standards. Instead, Jax pulled me down, then raised his leg and delivered a clean, brutal kick to the gym rep’s chest. The guy flew back six feet and didn’t get up. “You knew she was my girlfriend and you still touched her? Did I give you permission to breathe?” Jax’s face was dark. He grabbed the guy by the collar and punched him in the gut. “Apologize to my girlfriend.” Nobody messes with the heir to the Fu Corporation. The gym rep, clutching his stomach, wheezed out, “Sorry.” Everyone’s eyes snapped to me. I channeled my inner villain, lifted my chin, and stood next to Jax. “I’ll let it slide this time. Next time you mess with me, Jax will shank you.” Jax whispered in my ear, “Let’s not go that far.” “Right. Shank you, then throw you in the ocean to feed the sharks,” I nodded. Jax: “…” Just then, a scream pierced the air. Chloe came running, grabbing Jax’s arm and shaking it frantically. “What did you say? Who is your girlfriend?! Jax, explain yourself!” Jax pushed me forward and declared, “Her.” He winked at me frantically. Start working, bodyguard. I was riding the tiger now; I couldn’t get off. I grabbed Chloe. “Let’s talk privately.” I dragged her to the rooftop, locked the door, and immediately slid to my knees, hugging her legs. “Sis, let me explain!” “AHHHH!” Chloe screamed. “You evil witch! You seduced Jax! I’m going to stab you!” Me: “Not necessary, not necessary.” She started hammering my back with her tiny fists. “It is necessary!” “Listen to me!” I grabbed her wrists. “You’re missing the big picture. Look at you—supermodel looks. Look at me—average four-eyes. Jax isn’t blind. Who do you think he really wants?” Chloe calmed down, thinking. “Me?” “Obviously! He only said I’m his girlfriend to stimulate you! He wants you to be jealous!” Chloe’s face lit up instantly. “Oh! Like in the novels! I wouldn’t confess, so he found a villainess to trigger me. Our minds are totally in sync!” Me: “…Yes. Exactly. So what’s your next move?” Chloe sighed. “I guess I should just confess.” “NO!” I yelled. “You can’t talk to him!” If they get together now, who’s going to protect me from the gym rep? And I need to survive until graduation to pay them back. Chloe frowned. “Why?” “Love is like mochi,” I improvised. “The more you beat it, the chewier it gets. If you get together too easily, it’s boring. You need obstacles to solidify the bond.” Chloe nodded, entranced. “I will sacrifice my reputation and go full evil villainess. The more I bully you, the more pained he’ll feel. The more pain, the more love. Eventually—BOOM! He’ll explode, grab you at the school gate, and force a kiss on you!” “AHHH!” Chloe stomped her feet, blushing. “Then I’ll run away crying, get hit by a car, and he’ll kneel at my hospital bed begging for forgiveness. Classic redemption arc!” I gave her a thumbs up. “Foolproof.” 03 On the way down, students stared. Chloe had already entered her “tragic heroine” era. She looked at me, eyes teary. “Maya… sorry I was mean to you before.” I immediately switched to “evil villain” mode. I sneered. “If you know you were wrong, fix your attitude. Tsk, arguing with you made me miss breakfast. Go to the cafeteria. Two meat buns, soy milk, one tea egg. No sugar in the soy milk.” Chloe glanced at Jax, bit her lip, eyes red, sniffled, and trotted downstairs to buy my breakfast. Jax craned his neck watching her go, then whispered to me. “Holy crap. How did you do that? She didn’t throw a fit?” I whispered back. “She did. But I don’t play that. I grabbed her by the hair and told her if she acts up, I’ll have you deal with her. Told her I’m the favorite now. She got scared.” Jax looked at me with pure reverence. “A true Queen walks among us.” 04 Our whispering confirmed my status as the “Big Sister.” Back in class, my desk-mate had cleaned the insults off my desk and peeled my tea egg for me. I sipped my soy milk. “Do I still need to change my shoes?” “No, no! Keep them!” she said quickly. “Authentic ones give me blisters anyway. Yours look way comfier. You have great taste.” Wow. Being the boss’s girl rocks. I finished my breakfast and studied in peace all morning. It was glorious. But by lunch, I was summoned to the homeroom teacher’s office. The bully clique was led by my desk-mate, and Mr. Higgins was her distant relative. He got his job through her family, so he usually ignored my suffering. “Maya, you’ve got some nerve!” Mr. Higgins slammed his thermos on the desk. “Openly dating? Making a scene? I thought you were a good kid, but your morals are corrupt! Call your parents. Now!” I looked distressed. “My guardian can’t come.” “Can’t come? Then you’re suspended until they can!” He shouted so loud the whole hallway heard. I walked out, defeated. My desk-mate and her friends snickered and ran off. I texted my brother, Leo. He’s three years older, in college nearby. People say the eldest brother is like a father, but Leo is also the mother. Our dad is in prison. Mom died early. We grew up in a rural village where everyone hated us because of Dad. Leo took me to the county seat, then the city. He worked odd jobs to feed me while studying. We both survived on scholarships. He hates complaining. If he says he’s “a bit busy,” it means he hasn’t slept in two days. Leo replied: A bit busy. Miss me? I’ll visit when I can. Just sent you $50. Buy those shoes you wanted. I covered my face. I couldn’t burden him. Just then, Chloe shimmied up to me. “Hey, bestie! At lunch, go sit with Jax. I’ll walk by with soup, and you push me down. Warn me to stay away from him. Genius, right?” I looked at her deadpan. “What is this crap?” Chloe: “?” “Sorry, slip of the tongue. I meant, what is this plot?” “The ‘Chase Wife Crematorium’ arc!” (A popular Chinese romance trope where the guy grovels). I was stressed about the parent meeting. Suddenly, a lightbulb went off. “That’s weak,” I grabbed her hand. “Here’s the play: Make your mom accept me as her goddaughter! I steal all your mother’s love. You lick your wounds in a corner. If Jax has any humanity, he’ll comfort you!” Chloe gasped. “Omg. You’re a genius. The layers! The drama!” “Yes! Hurry, get your mom to handle Mr. Higgins.”

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Through the rearview mirror, I watched as the boy I grew up with was dragged by the car for over two hundred meters. His body was a canvas of scrapes and bruises, but his hand was clamped around the door handle, refusing to let go. With a sigh of resignation, I lowered the window, giving him a chance to speak. “That video… I saw it.” “I’m sorry, Echo. I… I honestly didn’t know that was the truth…” “So, now you know,” I cut him off, my voice cold. “I’m an asshole! I shouldn’t have doubted you. I never should have said those horrible things to you…” He took a desperate step forward, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. “Echo, please, yell at me, hit me, I don’t care. Just… don’t shut me out. Don’t leave me.” “I really know I was wrong.” Watching him sob, my heart remained a placid lake, without a single ripple of emotion. I slowly lifted my head and asked him one last question. “David, do you remember that priority seat?” 1 I’ve had a severe heart condition since I was a child, which means weekly trips to the hospital for check-ups. One day, on the subway ride back with David, my childhood best friend, we ran into the new transfer student. There was only one empty seat left, right next to him. Just as I was about to sit, the new girl timidly grabbed my arm. “Excuse me,” she said, her voice small. “I’m a little anemic.” “That priority seat… could I possibly have it?” I almost laughed. The damsel-in-distress act was a little too obvious. I prepared a simple, direct refusal. “Sorry, but I can’t…” Before I could finish, David interrupted. “Echo, just let her have it.” “I know your heart condition means you can’t stand for long, but I’ve gotten you a seat so many times. What’s one more time?” I froze. Obediently, I gave up the seat. It wasn’t until the third time he came to walk me to school, only to find I’d already left, that he finally seemed to get it. “It was just a seat. Is it really worth being like this over?” I bit my lip. “You’re right. It was just one seat. So why couldn’t you have given it to me?” My question left him stunned. David never expected me, the girl who was always so easygoing around him, to push back like that. It took him a moment to find his voice, a new edge of annoyance in it. “What kind of attitude is that? Lily wasn’t feeling well. You knew that.” I was done arguing. I turned and headed upstairs to my apartment. His voice rose behind me. “Echo Shen! Are you really going to drag this out over something so small?” I didn’t look back. After that, a cold war began between us. I started deliberately avoiding him at school, walking to and from class alone. He never made an effort to approach me either. The thread that had tied us together since we were kids seemed to have suddenly gone slack. During Monday’s literature class, the teacher announced a group project. The second she finished speaking, two of David’s best friends swarmed his desk. Normally, I would have been the fourth member. I was gathering my books, waiting for them to call me over. But when I looked up, I saw Lily standing hesitantly by David’s desk, nervously twisting the hem of her shirt. She summoned her courage and whispered, “David… I just transferred, so I don’t know many people… Is your group full?” His friends immediately started teasing him. “Whoa, look at you, man. A pretty girl is asking to join.” David was clearly flattered. Without even a glance in my direction, he answered in a voice dripping with gentleness, “Of course. Welcome to the group.” I was frozen in place, the textbook in my hand hovering over my backpack. Throughout the entire exchange, David never once looked at me, as if I didn’t exist. His friends seemed to have forgotten that their tight-knit little group was supposed to include me. After Lily sat down, she acted as if she had just noticed I was there. She covered her mouth with her hand, her face a mask of innocence. “Oh no… did I take Echo’s spot? I’m so, so sorry, I didn’t know…” “Maybe Echo should join instead. I can work by myself. My grades aren’t very good, I don’t want to drag you all down…” Before I could respond, David frowned in my direction, his tone impatient. “Echo, your grades are good enough to do this project on your own. Lily just got here. She needs help.” Suddenly, the whole thing felt pointless. I stuffed my textbook into my bag, stood up, and silently walked to the other side of the classroom. The rest of the students had already formed their groups. Only a few of the academically struggling kids, the ones nobody wanted to team up with, were left scattered around. I calmly took an empty seat among them. “Let’s be a group,” I said. 2 After that day, my situation in class became a bit awkward. My new groupmates were a motley crew. One slept through every class, another was lost in fantasy novels, and the third, bless his heart, actually wanted to learn but would just stare at a problem for half an hour without writing a single word. I broke down the project into tiny, manageable tasks, assigning each of them specific research to do and showing them how to organize it. It was the only way to make any progress. The process was exhausting—far more work than if I’d just done it myself. I had to constantly monitor my heart rate, reminding myself not to get anxious, not to get angry. The doctor said emotional spikes were bad for me. Meanwhile, David’s group was the life of the party. Lily might not have known anything, but she knew how to ask for help. During every break, you could see her leaning over David’s desk, her textbook open, pointing at a page and asking questions in a soft, sweet voice. David was incredibly patient, breaking down a single problem for her multiple times. His two friends would stand by, cheering them on. I ignored their noise, focusing on re-organizing the messy, error-filled notes my own group had submitted. This strange new dynamic peaked during gym class. Because of my heart, I couldn’t do anything strenuous, so I usually just rested on the sidelines. Coincidentally, Lily had also excused herself that week, once again citing anemia. So there we were, the two of us, sitting alone on the bleachers overlooking the sprawling field. She scooted closer, settling next to me. “Echo,” she began, hugging her knees and looking at me from the side. “Are you still mad at me?” I didn’t say anything. She continued as if I had. “I know David is really good to you. You two grew up together… I guess I’m just… really envious. I’m new here, I don’t have any friends. When he was nice to me, I couldn’t help but want to get closer.” As she spoke, her eyes started to well up. “Have I caused you a lot of trouble?” Before I could figure out how to respond, the halftime whistle blew for the basketball game. David pulled the hem of his jersey up to wipe the sweat from his face and jogged over to us, carrying two bottles of water. The sunlight cast a golden halo around him, making him seem impossibly bright. He stopped in front of us, naturally twisted the cap off one bottle, and handed it to Lily. “Here, drink this.” Then, he placed the other, unopened bottle on the bleacher next to me. “You okay?” he asked casually. “Your face is pale.” Lily took small sips, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at him. “David, that three-pointer you made was amazing!” David grinned, about to reply, when Lily suddenly swayed. The water bottle slipped from her hand, tipping directly onto me. Ice-cold water soaked half of my pants. “Oh! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry, Echo!” Lily yelped, jumping up and fumbling to wipe the water off me. But then her own ankle seemed to twist, and she stumbled backward. Instinctively, David caught her, pulling her into his arms. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” His voice was laced with an urgency I’d never heard from him. “I… I’m fine,” Lily whispered, leaning against his chest, her face even paler than mine. “Just a little dizzy… my vision’s going dark…” Without another word, David swept her up into his arms, his brow deeply furrowed. As he walked past me, he seemed to remember I was there and paused, looking back. I sat on the cold bleacher, my pants dripping, the chilling water seeping into my skin. I looked at him, expecting him to at least ask if I was alright. He didn’t. His eyes held only a heavy weight of disappointment and blame. “Echo,” he said, his voice frigid. “Lily isn’t well. Couldn’t you have at least watched out for her? I never thought you could become such a cold person.” Then, he turned and strode toward the nurse’s office without a second glance. The whispers of the other students washed over me like a tide. I sat there, motionless, feeling a familiar, tight clenching in my chest. 3 After that day, it felt like I was getting lazier. Too lazy to talk, too lazy to argue, too lazy to even look at David anymore. I walked home alone after gym class, the autumn wind creeping up my still-damp pant leg, a chill that reached deep into my heart. I didn’t text him. I didn’t wait for him. The next day at school, David did something unusual. He came over to my desk and placed a carton of warm milk on it. “Yesterday… Lily didn’t mean it. You know how she is, her health comes and goes. Don’t take it to heart.” I looked at him and suddenly felt so tired of it all. Truly, I was just done. In his eyes, I was probably the one who didn’t need looking after. Heart condition? There’s a pill for that. Misunderstood? I was good with words; I could clear things up myself. The bond we’d shared since childhood had made him take all my strength and resilience for granted. I picked up the milk, placed it back on his desk, and said softly, “Thanks, but I already had some.” Then I turned back around, opened my English textbook, and started memorizing vocabulary. David stood behind me for a moment. He probably felt like he’d lost face, because he eventually took the milk and walked away. I heard Lily’s soft voice drift over from his desk. “David, what’s wrong? Is Echo still mad?” From that day on, I completely withdrew from their world. I no longer waited for him after class. The second the final bell rang, I’d be the first one out the door with my backpack. During group discussions, I stopped offering opinions. I’d just assign the tasks, and if someone didn’t finish their part, I’d stay up late and do it myself. David finally seemed to notice something was seriously wrong. He cornered me a few times, asking if I was still mad about those “little things.” I just shook my head. “No. Exams are coming up. I need to focus on studying.” He looked at me with an expression of confusion and unfamiliarity. He was used to me chasing after him, pestering him with questions, getting worked up over the smallest things. My current calmness was unsettling for him. But I truly had no energy left to fight. My heart couldn’t take it, and neither could my pride. What finally gave me a new sense of direction was a poster on the school bulletin board. A city-wide English speech competition. The theme was “The Power of Silence.” I stood in front of that poster for a long time. The Power of Silence. Those words cut through the fog in my mind like a bolt of lightning. That’s right. Why was I trying to argue with words? Language is the most powerless tool, especially when you’re talking to someone who refuses to listen. Real power never comes from screaming or demanding. It comes from quiet action, from focused growth. I tore off a corner of the sign-up sheet, went back to my desk, and carefully filled in my name. The moment I handed it in, I felt my fickle heart finally find a steady, powerful rhythm. I poured all my energy into it. During every lunch break, I’d go up to the school rooftop and practice my pronunciation and intonation, my voice carrying over the empty field. At night, I’d lock myself in my room, researching, writing, editing, and then starting all over again. During this time, Lily’s popularity in class soared. She’d bring water to the boys after they played basketball and help the struggling girls with their homework. When she got stuck on a problem, she’d naturally turn to David for help. The two of them, heads bent together over a book, looked perfectly in sync. Once, in the hallway, I was carrying a stack of books and walked past them. Lily saw me and made a point of stopping David, her voice just loud enough for me to hear. “David, look at Echo. She’s been studying so hard lately. She barely talks to us anymore.” David’s gaze fell on me, his expression unreadable. I didn’t slow down. I didn’t look at them. I walked straight past. The night before the finals, I stayed late in the empty classroom for one last run-through. Moonlight streamed through the windows, stretching my shadow long across the floor. I faced the blackboard and recited my entire speech from memory, every pause, every gesture committed to heart. When I finished, I let out a long breath, feeling a sense of calm I hadn’t felt in a long time. I was packing my things, about to turn off the lights and leave, when the classroom door creaked open. Lily stood there, holding a steaming cup of coffee, a pure, harmless smile on her face. “Echo, still preparing so late? I brought you some coffee to help you stay awake.”

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1 My last ride of the day was my ex-wife, who I hadn’t seen in seven years. She had changed so much. Dressed head-to-toe in designer brands, the jade bracelet on her wrist alone was worth eight figures. Through the car window, she whipped off her sunglasses, her voice catching. “Noah Vance… you’re alive?” I averted my gaze, pulling the surgical mask higher on my face. My voice was flat. “Are you the rider with the phone number ending in 1793?” Shannon bent down and slid into the passenger seat, her eyes never leaving me. Her expression was a storm of conflicting emotions. “After you escaped from the psychiatric hospital… why didn’t you come back to me?” Her voice faltered, a barely perceptible tremor in it. “These past years… have you been okay?” I didn’t answer her. I just silently pulled down my mask. A patchwork of burn scars covered my face, blurring the features she once knew. The torture, the days where death seemed a mercy, had been enough to burn away all the love and hate I ever felt for Shannon. … Shannon’s gaze was fixed on me. Throughout the drive, she opened her mouth to speak several times. But each time she looked at my face, the words died in her throat. Finally, she looked down, her voice barely a whisper. “After the fire… I looked for you.” I stared straight ahead at the traffic light, one hand on the steering wheel, and said nothing. Her lips trembled, but she pressed on. “During the search and rescue, they couldn’t find any survivors. We all thought you were dead.” My fingers tightened on the wheel. Hearing about my own death from someone else’s lips was a special kind of irony. I gave her a noncommittal reply. “Still breathing.” Shannon sensed my cold, detached attitude. She clutched her Chanel bag, and the words failed her again. The silence in the car was heavy, almost suffocating. Following the GPS, I drove into an upscale neighborhood in the heart of the city. Before I could even unlock the doors, a child’s voice chirped from outside. “Mommy! Daddy and I missed you! You promised to take me to the amusement park!” A little girl ran at full speed and threw herself into Shannon’s arms. Shannon’s face softened into a smile as she kissed the girl’s cheek. “How about tomorrow? Pinky promise.” In seven years, Shannon had remarried and had a child. She was living a life that was a universe away from mine. The man beside her, Evan, was smiling, until his eyes landed on me. I saw a flicker of pure shock in his eyes. “Mentor? Is that you? You’re still alive.” Everyone seemed shocked that I was alive. And no one seemed particularly happy about it. Evan took Shannon’s hand and led the child over. “Annie, this is Daddy’s mentor. Go on, say hello.” My fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel. A tremor went through me. That name. It was the one Shannon and I had chosen together. A boy would be Arthur, a girl, Anna. Shannon had spent three days and nights poring over a dictionary to find those names. But the child we were supposed to have… we lost it. As I was lost in thought, the little girl saw the charred, puckered skin on my face and burst into tears. Shannon immediately scooped her up, cooing softly, her hand covering the child’s eyes. Evan’s lips curved into a smirk. When he looked at me, his eyes were full of smug triumph. “Sorry about that, Mentor. Annie’s still young. She’s probably just a little scared of you.” “To make up for it, why don’t you come inside? It’s been too long.” My expression didn’t change. His thinly veiled insults didn’t faze me. Who would have thought that Evan, who once couldn’t even afford a decent set of clothes, now lived in the most expensive, exclusive villa complex in the city? When I didn’t respond, Evan’s smile faltered, and he looked down, his voice laced with false apology. “Mentor, are you angry with me… for marrying Shannon?” “You were gone for seven years. She was crying every single day. I couldn’t bear to see her like that, so I…” I cut him off, my voice calm. “Do I know you? Why would I be angry with you?” The expression on his face froze. Even Shannon took a hesitant step forward. I could see the guilt in her eyes. “I know you’re still angry with me, but what happened back then…” She wanted to explain, but any explanation would be laughably inadequate. “The way you are now… if there’s anything you need, I’ll help you.” “No, thank you.” Perhaps back then, when I was locked away in that hospital, I really did need her help. Every day, every night, I begged them to let me see her, just once. But now? Why would I hold out hope for the person who personally threw me into hell? 2 After leaving the complex, I parked in a lot not far from my apartment. I put my mask back on and kept my head down, avoiding the curious stares of passersby. Before I could react, someone slammed into my side. “Watch where you’re going! Don’t you have eyes? Young people these days, so reckless!” The sharp, biting tone stopped the apology on my lips. I looked up. My heart skipped a beat. It was my mother. She saw my face, didn’t recognize me, and took a few disgusted steps back. Her friend tugged on her sleeve. “Let’s go, let’s go. What bad luck.” I stood frozen as they walked away. In seven years, her hair had grayed, but her personality was the same. Caustic, cold, and cruel. The cold night wind bit at my skin. I shivered, rubbing my arms, and hurried home. The apartment was quiet. I’d been living alone for the past few days. I took off my thin jacket. In the bathroom, the mirror reflected the hideous scars on my back. That spot… was where my mother had once carved her disownment into my skin. The Vance family had produced a single heir for eight generations, each one a giant in the world of chess. That included me. At the time, I had just won my thirty-second international championship. My list of accolades was endless. Everyone agreed my achievements had surpassed my father’s, even my grandfather’s. And on that same day, I married Shannon. They all envied me. Even I believed my life was charmed. Until I met Evan, who at the time couldn’t even afford his tuition. I offered him a lifeline. I sponsored his living expenses, taught him chess, and took him on as my protégé. Evan was smart. He knew how to charm my mother and how to evoke Shannon’s pity. But slowly, everything began to change. At first, it was just Shannon mentioning him more often. Then, she started making him lunch every day, memorizing all his dietary habits. When I questioned her, she just laughed and called me paranoid. “Evan is your protégé. I’m his mentor’s wife. He’s had a hard enough life. It’s only right that I look after him.” Until the third month of Shannon’s pregnancy, when there was an accident, and the baby was gone. When I heard the news, I was overseas. I flew back immediately, not sleeping for dozens of hours. I messaged Shannon nonstop, but there was no reply. When I finally rushed to the hospital, I found her sobbing in Evan’s arms. I had never seen her so fragile. Evan was comforting her, his hands gently stroking her back, as if she were a precious, breakable treasure. I froze, staring at the scene before me. When my mother arrived, she slapped me across the face. “You’re not worth a fraction of him!” That day, it felt like I lost more than just a child. The icy splash of tap water on my face pulled me back to the present. I turned on the shower, trying to wash away the old scars on my back with cold water. After nearly an hour, my skin was red and swollen. When I stepped out of the bathroom, a text message popped up on my phone. Mom’s 70th birthday is the day after tomorrow. I’ll come pick you up. There was no name attached, but I knew it was Shannon. I stared at the message for a long time. After escaping that fire, I had spent countless days and nights wondering. What did my mother see me as? A son, or a tool to bring the family honor and money? I looked down, my fingers tapping on the screen. Okay. 3 Two days later, I was in the back seat of Shannon’s car, watching the scenery fly by. Evan, in the passenger seat, spoke up, his voice loud. “I didn’t think you’d agree to come, Mentor.” I didn’t respond. Shannon’s eyes kept finding mine in the rearview mirror. The silence was thick, broken only by the soft breathing of the sleeping child. “Evan… Mom adopted him as her godson,” Shannon explained, her voice stiff. The hand supporting my head tensed. I lowered my gaze and said nothing. My mother’s 70th birthday banquet was being held at the most luxurious hotel in the capital. The guest list was a who’s who of the city’s elite. My reflection in the glass doors showed a man in a loose, ill-fitting suit. The scars on his face were a grotesque map. Compared to them, I was a ghost at the feast. I followed behind Shannon, and the stares immediately found me. Until my mother appeared. When she saw Shannon and the child in her arms, her face broke into a wide, happy smile. “Mom, I brought Noah back. He’s alive,” Shannon said, stepping forward. “I thought… he should come home.” I glanced at her, at the desperate way she was trying to explain. It was almost funny. Was she trying to assuage her own guilt, or did she genuinely want me back? I had no idea. My mother’s gaze followed Shannon’s and landed on me. There was no shock in her eyes, no surprise. Only disgust. “I have no son like him!” Even though I knew it was coming, a sharp pain lanced through my heart. “Mom.” The word had been on the tip of my tongue for seven years. That day was the last tournament before my birthday. My opponent was Evan. The match was being broadcast live, screens everywhere showing our faces. My mother was in the audience, as always. But that day, she didn’t seem to see me. Her eyes kept darting to Evan, cheering him on. Shannon, too. No one expected me to win. I played with a rare focus. Evan was completely outmatched. But halfway through, he called for a stop. He looked at me in disbelief. “Mentor, would you really cheat just to win?” His clear voice echoed through the arena. My hand, hovering over a piece, froze. I looked up at him, uncomprehending. The referees signaled a timeout and approached my table. “Mr. Vance, please cooperate with our investigation.” They searched my pockets. In the inner lining of my jacket, they found a black chess piece. My entire outfit for the match had been prepared by Shannon. A ringing filled my ears. I shook my head, numb. “I didn’t.” The flash of a dozen cameras blinded me. Before I could process what was happening, I heard the referee announce my disqualification. My mother strode forward and slapped me across the face. Her voice was ice. “How could I have a son so shameless!” Overnight, I went from a celebrated genius to a pariah. I fled, leaving the frenzied pack of reporters behind me. I had to find Shannon, to ask her what was happening. As I ran down the stairwell, I skidded to a halt. The sight before me felt like it would tear my eyes from their sockets. 4 Evan had Shannon pressed against the wall, his hand on her waist, kissing her with a savage intensity. Their clothes were half-off. It was the sound of my footsteps that made Shannon snap back to reality. A desperate roar tore from my throat. I kicked Evan away and lunged for Shannon, my hands closing around her neck. “Why? Why would you do this to me?!” “You planted that piece in my jacket so Evan could win! Why?!” Shannon broke free from my grip and rushed to help Evan, who had fallen to the floor. Evan scrambled to his knees in front of me, his hands clasped together. “Mentor, it wasn’t her fault! It was all me! I know I’ve wronged you…” I wanted to tear him to pieces. When he was at his lowest, I was the one who helped him. When he had no money to bury his parents, I paid. When he had no money for school, I paid. I taught him everything I knew, hoping he would shine in the world of chess. “But why would you do this to me?” I stumbled back, tears streaming down my face. Shannon’s expression had turned cold and calm. “Yes, I planned it. You have everything. Evan has nothing.” “And yes, Evan and I are together. We’ve been together since the day I lost our baby.” “Mom knows, and she doesn’t disapprove. She said if you can’t accept it, we can get a divorce, but I’ll still be a part of the Vance family.” Her words shattered me. I don’t know how I left. For the next week, I was a ghost. My mother publicly disowned me, striking my name from the family records. Shannon and Evan started appearing everywhere together. The news was filled with my scandal. To prove my innocence, I swallowed my pride and went to the tournament officials, demanding the surveillance footage. But just as I found the key piece of evidence, Shannon had me committed to a psychiatric hospital. Her face was a cold mask. “Evan is young. Are you trying to ruin him? Haven’t you earned enough glory in your life?” Shannon and I had been betrothed since birth. From the day she was born, she was meant to be a Vance. After we married, we were the couple everyone envied. But now, for another man, she had destroyed me. I had never been so broken. I knelt before her, clutching her hands, begging. “Do you know what this tournament meant to me?” “It was my birthday. You said you had a gift for me. I don’t want anything else. Just give me back my name. Please?” I bowed my head to the floor, pleading with her. But she was ruthless. She had me locked away. In that place, I endured unimaginable torment, both physical and mental. I wasn’t sick, but they were determined to make me so. A month after I was admitted, a fire broke out in the hospital. Everyone died. I escaped with my life, but I might as well have been dead. “Noah, just admit to what you did. Apologize. Maybe then you can come back and live a normal life.” Shannon’s voice pulled me back to the present. I couldn’t help but laugh. Why should I apologize for something I didn’t do? The stares of the other guests were like daggers, all of them waiting for the next act of the drama. I looked at my mother. Meeting her cold gaze, I spoke softly. “Happy birthday, Mrs. Vance.” With those words, the last of my old attachments fell away. She was right. She didn’t want me as a son anymore. The papers had been signed. There was no reason for me to go back. Both Shannon and my mother’s eyes widened. “You were right. I don’t have a mother like you, either.” The color drained from my mother’s face. I turned to Shannon, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “No one knows the truth of what happened back then better than you. Don’t you feel even a little bit guilty?” I strode out of the hotel. Shannon followed me, sticking to me like a shadow all the way back to my apartment. She was a frantic mess of explanations and apologies. “I’ve regretted it every single day. I can’t sleep at night. I have to take sleeping pills just to get a few hours of rest.” “I…” As I unlocked my door, she tried to follow me inside. I blocked her path. I glanced at my watch and cut her off. “Miss Florence, my wife will be home soon. She’s a bit timid and doesn’t do well with crowds.”

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I’m a journalist who specializes in the minds of monsters. There was this one serial killer, call sign “X.” He’d butchered seven sex workers, gutted them like fish, and harvested their organs. Interviewing him was my white whale. I dreamed about it. Then the news broke: X was dead. Murdered. The guy who killed him? Ethan Vance. Here’s what I know about Ethan: We were classmates in elementary school. He’s a Ph.D. in Criminal Psychology. The guy was a genius, damn near perfect SAT scores back in the day. His girlfriend is an escort. His little sister vanished in the red-light district years ago. 1 I flew a thousand miles from Chicago to Seattle today just to sit across from Ethan Vance. Ethan is currently being hailed as a hero for taking out “X,” the twisted psycho who terrified the West Coast for five years. X was a copycat, modeling himself after Jack the Ripper. He’d carve an “X” into the victim’s face after removing an organ. Over the last decade, I’ve hit every major penitentiary in the country. I’ve sat down with hundreds of killers. They usually fall into three buckets: lust, vengeance, or passion. Then there’s the fourth bucket: The Deviant. Simple translation: I killed you, and I don’t need a reason. I still remember my first interview. The kid was 19. He killed a runaway foster kid in his rural hometown. I asked him why. He told me: “I was curious. I wanted to see what a human face looks like when the lights go out. What would he say? Would he twitch? Would he claw at the dirt like a dying cat, or whimper and cry like a puppy? I had to know. He was weak, alone. No mommy or daddy to save him. I lured him into the cornfield and shanked him right in the kidney. The look in his eyes… humans are different than animals. More pathetic. He held his side and ran, leaving this long, bright red trail through the stalks. I just walked behind him. Watching him stumble was hilarious. When he bled out and collapsed, I flipped him over. He didn’t look hateful. He looked begging. His last words were, ‘Please, save me.’ I carved my initials into him. I wanted to thank him for being my first. I wanted to be with him forever. To commemorate the occasion, I gouged out his eyes and hid them in the root cellar of my old abandoned house.” That interview stuck with me. But after a decade, the stories got stale. Same old motives. I needed something fresh. I needed a monster like that 19-year-old again. Then X showed up. The first body was missing a heart. An “X” carved on the cheek. The police thought it was a crime of passion. They wasted months looking for ex-boyfriends with “X” in their names. Three months later, another city. Another escort. Liver gone. “X” on the face. Six months later. Another city. Kidney gone. This time, the killer posed her. Legs together, arms crossed over her chest, eyes shut. He painted colorful wings on the pavement around her waist. From above, she looked like she was ascending to heaven. The victim had a brother who never showed up to ID the body. Later, a monk reported her ashes stolen from the temple. Victims four, five, six, seven. All escorts, all orphans. X started getting artsy. He nailed one girl’s palms to a wooden cross. He posed another like “The Thinker.” Then, silence. For three years, X vanished. Until recently. A body appeared in a dumpster. “X” on the face, heart missing. No art, just trash. The cops caught the guy in three days. The media cheered. But while everyone was celebrating, a drunk stumbled down a dark alley in Portland. He saw a woman framed inside a giant picture frame mounted on the wall. Her lips were stapled into a smile. It was a macabre Mona Lisa. Left breast removed. “X” on the face. A note was tucked in the corner: Dear Officers, I am X. I will not let some amateur take credit for my life’s work. The surveillance state makes it hard, but I had to come out to tell you: You will never catch me. – Oct 6, 2017. The handwriting was elegant. He punched a hard dot after the date, showing his rage. Surveillance footage from a dark corner caught a glimpse of him. One leg didn’t bend. He walked with a limp. Experts analyzed the gait. Eight out of ten doctors said the limp was real, likely an injury between the calf and thigh. Fast forward to 2020. October 6th. X is dead. And my old pal Ethan Vance held the smoking gun—or rather, the flower vase. I pulled strings. The Chief in Seattle loves my book, The Anatomy of Murder. He told Detective Ramirez to give me the green light. 2 Ramirez led me to the interrogation room. Ethan looked at me with genuine shock. “You? You’re the reporter?” “Surprise, buddy,” I laughed. “I’m kind of a big deal in the true crime world now. You’re a hero, Ethan. You took down X. I flew a thousand miles for this scoop. You got a lawyer? I know some sharks.” “No need,” Ethan said calmly. “I don’t need one.” “Fair enough. The internet wants you getting a medal, not a prison sentence.” I played it cool. Started with small talk to loosen him up. We talked about 5th grade. How he was the smart orphan kid everyone loved. How I shared my mom’s dumplings with him. We reminisced about catching cicadas in the woods by the graveyard. He used to have this stray dog, a mutt named Buster. I was so jealous of that dog. My mom wouldn’t let me have one because they were “dirty.” “I loved that dog,” I said. “Whatever happened to him? He live a long life?” “No,” Ethan said, his voice flat. “Summer of 6th grade. He didn’t come home. found him by the road with his skull cracked open. Adults said a car hit him.” “That sucks,” I said, shifting gears quickly. “Remember Old Man Jenkins? The guy with the limp? We used to steal his watermelons. I’d distract him, you’d grab the melon. He couldn’t chase us with that bad leg. He’d hobble around, shoulders bobbing up and down. Funny as hell.” We both laughed. The ice was broken. “So,” I leaned in. “How did you kill X?” “I already told Ramirez.” “I want to hear it from you. For the book.” Ethan sighed. “Fine.” Here’s his story: He went to check on Chloe (formerly known as Fang Xinyun), the girl X was targeting. He knocked, no answer. But he heard glass breaking inside. Worried, he kicked the door in. He found Chloe on the floor, an “X” drawn on her face in red marker. As he went to help her, a shadow moved across the floor. Sunlight hit it. He turned around. A masked man lunged with a knife. They fought. Ethan grabbed a heavy flower vase and smashed it over the guy’s head. The guy went down hard. Ethan called the cops. The guy was dead. One hit. Later, Chloe woke up in the hospital. She told the police the attacker was a regular client who was obsessed with her. He wanted to run away with her. When she refused, he snapped. He screamed at her: “I’m X! The police haven’t caught me in ten years! Since you won’t come with me, you’ll be my next masterpiece.” He knocked her out. Then Ethan arrived. 3 “That’s it?” I couldn’t hide my disappointment. “What do you mean?” “It’s so… basic. No offense, but I wanted X to be caught alive. I wanted to pick his brain. But he died from a vase to the head? It lacks flair.” “Life isn’t a movie, Jack. You have a weird fetish for ‘flair’.” “Maybe.” I wrapped up the interview, but something smelled off. The narrative was trash. Serial killer falls for hooker, gets rejected, tries to kill her, gets bonked by a nerd with a vase. It wouldn’t sell books. And wait—Ethan is a prestigious Ph.D. Why is he hanging out with an escort? I needed to talk to Chloe. I went to her apartment. She slammed the door in my face. I slid ten $100 bills under the door. Money talks. She let me in, but her story was identical to Ethan’s script. When I asked about her relationship with Ethan, she snapped. “What, a Ph.D. can’t date a girl like me? You men are all the same.” “Chill, I’m just asking.” “Get out! Take your dirty money and get out!” She threw the cash at my face. I crouched down to pick up the bills. That’s when it hit me. Like a lightning bolt. I stood up and looked around. The windows faced North and South. They were covered with frosted paper. It was the exact time of day Ethan claimed the fight happened. There was no shadow on the floor. Not a distinct one. Ethan lied. 4 Why did he lie? And is X really dead? I rushed to the precinct and told Detective Ramirez. Ramirez smirked. “Not bad, reporter. We knew he was lying. Honestly? We suspect Ethan might be X.” “What? No way. Why?” “His travel records. Over the last few years, Ethan has been in every city where X killed a girl, right around the time of the murders.” “Coincidence? He’s a profiler.” “Maybe. But when you stare into the abyss, right? Plus, his sister. Her file has been cold for years. We think she’s dead.” I went back for a second interview. “What is your relationship with Chloe? Really.” “She was my patient,” Ethan said. “Then my girlfriend. I was testing a new hypnosis therapy. Long-term, slow-burn suggestion. I needed a volunteer who would let me reshape memories.” “Hypnosis? You serious?” “It works. Chloe was scared of someone. She told me under hypnosis that a man wanted to cut her heart out. She wouldn’t give me a name. We grew close during the sessions. I fell for her. I went to her place that day to confess my feelings, and I walked in on the attack.” “Did the experiment work?” “No.” “Okay. Next question. Ramirez thinks you’re X. Your travel history matches the murders.” “I’m a criminal psychologist. I study X. I track him. I go to the crime scenes to profile him. I felt like I knew him. I never expected to be the one to kill him.” “Right. One more thing. You said you saw X’s shadow on the floor. I went to Chloe’s apartment. The lighting, the frosted glass… you couldn’t have seen a sharp shadow. Why lie?” Ethan froze. He opened his mouth, but Ramirez burst in and dragged me out. 5 Ramirez looked grave. “No more interviews. We found new evidence.” They found a shrine of X’s photos in Ethan’s house. The dead guy’s real name was Caleb. Caleb didn’t die from the vase. He died of poison. Caleb sent a text to Chloe before he died: “Run. Ethan is X.” They found microscope slides of human tissue in Ethan’s apartment. “I can’t let you talk to him anymore,” Ramirez said. “But if you want to investigate on your own… be my guest. Just don’t print those four points yet.” I went back to the hotel, buzzing. But something didn’t add up. Ethan said he met Chloe six months ago. I went back to Chloe’s. I harassed her until she slipped up. “What hypnosis? I’ve known Ethan for three years!” She slammed the door again. Ethan lied about the timeline. I needed to know about Caleb. The dead “X.” I went to Caleb’s apartment. The landlord was clearing it out. “He was a quiet guy,” the landlord said. “Had a girlfriend once, then she stopped coming. He got skinny. Looked like a skeleton recently. No way he killed people. He didn’t have the strength to open a jar.” The room was empty. Just a bed and a desk. I looked around, frustrated. Then I saw a picture frame on the wall. It wasn’t a painting. It was a slide puzzle. I started sliding the tiles. Head. Torso. Legs. Wings. Click. It formed the image of X’s third victim—the “ascending angel.” The frame popped open. A notebook fell out. I opened it. It was a list of phone numbers and cities. I called the first one. “Hello?” A woman answered. “Hi, um…” “Look, it’s $200 for an hour, $500 overnight. Condoms mandatory.” I hung up. Called the next. “I told you, I haven’t seen any customers with a limp! Stop calling!” I froze. The notebook was a directory of sex workers across the country. A photo slipped out of the back pages. It was a group shot: St. Jude’s Home for Boys – New Year’s Eve. I recognized the kids. It was Ethan. His little sister, Lily. And a third boy holding her hand. That boy must be Caleb. Ethan and the “Killer” grew up together.

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1 My grandmother’s life was hanging by a thread after a hit-and-run—a severe brain hemorrhage. I took the driver who did it to court, only to find my wife, Ava, who was supposed to be on a business trip overseas, standing right there in the hospital. “Do you have any idea how critical Leo’s evaluation as our star intern is?” she hissed, her voice sharp and cold. “His entire future can’t be destroyed over one little car accident!” “Drop the lawsuit. Now. Or I’ll freeze all your accounts and have your grandmother moved to a general ward.” The door slammed shut behind her, the sound echoing her final, chilling words. “Don’t even think about coming home until you agree to drop this. And if you don’t, you can forget about being my husband, too!” Desperate for the surgery funds, I called everyone I knew, but every door slammed in my face. Then, just as I was losing all hope, a team of lawyers found me. They brought news that changed everything: the patent for the core technology my grandmother had licensed to Vance Industries had expired. And I was now the new patent holder. … After the payment for the surgery failed, I stormed into my wife’s office. “Ava, how could you? You froze my accounts for a complete stranger?” I slammed my hands on her desk. “Don’t you know Grandma needs emergency brain surgery? Does her kindness, everything she’s done for you, mean nothing?” The memory of her icy demeanor at the hospital fueled my rage. Ava looked at me as if I were some hysterical child throwing a tantrum. “Ryan, just look at yourself,” she said with a sigh. “What’s done is done. Yelling at me isn’t going to change anything.” Her tone was so dismissive, as if my grandmother were battling a common cold, not fighting for her life. I stared at the woman I had been married to for twelve years, and my heart turned to ice. “Have you forgotten how Vance Industries even got started?” I demanded, my voice shaking. “Have you forgotten how she took a knife for you during that mugging? She still has permanent nerve damage in her back because of it! And now, you’re throwing away her only chance to live, all for some intern? Ava, do you even have a soul?” When we were dating, my grandmother had used every connection she had to support Ava’s dream, paving the way for her success. The very patent that earned Vance Industries hundreds of millions in profit each year? Grandma had licensed it to her for a symbolic fee of a few million, just to see her succeed. Every single achievement of her company was built on my grandmother’s generosity and genius. And this was how Ava repaid her. At my words, Ava’s cold composure finally cracked, replaced by searing anger. She hurled her coffee mug at my feet. It shattered, sending shards of porcelain slicing into my ankle. I felt the warm trickle of blood. “What’s the point of dragging up all that ancient history?” she spat. “Right now, all you need to do is drop the lawsuit, tell everyone your grandmother fell on her own, and this will all be over.” She stepped closer, her eyes blazing. “If you keep pushing this and delay her surgery, the person who kills her won’t be the driver—it’ll be you!” I looked at this woman, so familiar yet so alien, and a desolate emptiness filled me. I remembered when we first fell in love. She’d run through a downpour just to walk me home. She’d stayed up all night by my bedside when I was sick. She had been so afraid she wasn’t good enough for my family, studying relentlessly, promising she’d have children whenever I was ready. Now, it felt like I was truly seeing her for the first time. Seeing my silence, she sneered. “Ryan, don’t use these pathetic little tricks just because you’re jealous of Leo. You’ve had the privilege of being my husband for a decade. You should be grateful.” Grateful? I didn’t argue anymore. I turned and walked away. My grandmother’s surgery was all that mattered. Leaving her office, I called a few friends I’d always been close with. Usually, they were all smiles and warmth. Today, they treated me like I had the plague. “Ryan, come on. You’re completely dependent on your wife. Going against her like this won’t do you any good.” “Just let the accident go. You don’t even have any proof. Stop being so stubborn and go apologize to her.” “Man, Ava Vance is one of the most powerful people in this city. We’d love to help, but our hands are tied.” The sun beat down, but I felt like I was trapped in a block of ice. Anger and a profound sense of betrayal churned in my gut. My phone rang. It was Ava, her voice as cold as steel. “I’m giving you one day to drop the lawsuit. If you don’t, don’t blame me for forgetting we were ever married. Leo has an academic conference to attend overseas!” Then, a softer voice chimed in from her end. “Ava… if it’ll make Ryan feel better, I don’t mind taking a little heat.” It was Leo. “I just hate to disappoint you after all the years you’ve invested in me.” Ava’s tone grew even colder. “Ryan, do you really want to make this ugly for everyone? Do you think your grandmother would want to see you destroying the career of a brilliant young man like this? Let me tell you, even if you refuse, I have my ways.” She hung up. I clenched my fists, the image of my grandmother in the ICU flashing in my mind. A wave of helplessness washed over me. All those promises we made, all those vows… they were no match for time. My phone rang again. It was the lawyer. “Mr. Evans, the patent your grandmother licensed to Vance Industries has expired. Six months ago, she legally transferred ownership to you.” Vance Industries had become a titan in its field, and Ava had long forgotten that it was my grandmother’s exclusive technology that had allowed her to crush the competition. The young, eager woman who used to follow my grandmother around the lab, diligently taking notes and sneaking me snacks, was gone. All that remained was the ruthless CEO of Vance Industries. Looking at my grandmother lying in the ICU, hooked up to a dozen machines, a deep, burning hatred for Ava ignited within me. How could she protect the very person who had nearly killed her mentor, her benefactor? I would not let Leo get away with this. I would make them both pay. The lawyer explained that my grandmother had the foresight to prepare the patent transfer documents before our wedding, making them my pre-nuptial property. Even as her husband, Ava couldn’t touch them. It was late afternoon by the time I got home. I only intended to grab some documents, but I found Ava and Leo sitting together on the living room couch. In Leo’s hand was the good luck charm my grandmother had given me for protection. Rage erupted in me. “Who told you you could touch my things? Put it down! And get the hell out of my house!” Startled, Leo scrambled behind Ava, putting on a pitiful, wounded act. “Ryan… everyone at the office is already talking about how you’re trying to have me arrested over the accident. I… I can’t even work there anymore.” He started to get up. “I shouldn’t have bothered you. Ava, I’ll just go back to the office.” Ava grabbed his arm and pulled him back down onto the couch, their bodies now closer than they were before I walked in. “Ryan, I’m giving you an out. Go to the police station today and withdraw the complaint,” she commanded. “Vance Industries has no place for a man who causes this much drama.” Her ability to twist reality was so sickening it made my stomach turn. I ignored her and went upstairs to gather my evidence. “Ava, you remember this,” I called down, my voice hard. “It’s not you leaving me. It’s me throwing you away!” She froze, her hand dropping from Leo’s shoulder. She rushed to the bottom of the stairs and grabbed my wrist. “What did you just say?” I laughed, a cold, bitter sound. “I said I have no interest in used goods.” “Say that again,” she whispered, her eyes turning red, her voice dangerously low. Leo, terrified by the sudden tension, fumbled with the charm. It slipped from his fingers and shattered on the floor. My vision went red. “You did that on purpose!” Leo’s eyes welled with tears as he shook his head. “Ava, I was just scared… Ryan frightened me. I can apologize…” But Ava shielded him. “It’s just a stupid trinket. You don’t need to apologize for anything.” She knew how much that charm meant to me, how my grandmother had prayed over it for my safety. And she dismissed it like trash. I took a deep breath, forcing down the inferno in my chest. “Fine. I’ll leave. You two can have the place to yourselves.” I walked past her, pausing at the door. “And soon, the position of husband will be vacant, too. Whoever wants it can have it.” Her face contorted with fury. My taunt had hit its mark. She swung her hand and slapped me across the face, so hard I stumbled and fell. “What the hell are you talking about? Leo is a student I mentor! I see him as a younger brother! Are you trying to ruin both our reputations with these disgusting lies?” I touched my stinging cheek. The anger was gone, replaced by a hollow, dead silence. In twelve years, she had never laid a hand on me. The first time was for him. Ava ruthlessly threw my suitcase out the front door. “Don’t think you can control me, Ryan! I don’t care where you go! You have half a day left. Drop the lawsuit!” The door slammed shut. I silently picked up my luggage and headed for the law firm, where I collected the official patent transfer documents. Staring at the thick stack of papers, the product of my grandmother’s life’s work, my eyes burned. My lawyer handed me another contract. “Mr. Evans, Helios Corp is willing to offer $180 million for a five-year licensing agreement. Would you be interested in discussing it?” That night, my grandmother’s legal team and I finalized the deal with Helios Corp. As soon as the advance payment hit my account, I had my grandmother transferred to the best private hospital in the city and scheduled her surgery with the top neurosurgeon. The next day, I received an invitation from Helios Corp to attend a major industry summit. I never expected to run into Ava and Leo there. “Ryan, what are you doing here?” Leo asked, his eyes darting between me and the female CEO of Helios Corp. His tone was slick with insinuation. “I know Ava was a little harsh yesterday, but did you really have to start cheating on her this fast?” He smirked, his face a mask of contempt. “And with one of Vance Industries’ biggest rivals, no less. How pathetic.” Helios Corp was a rising star in the tech world, and Vance Industries’ most formidable competitor. It was only because of my grandmother’s patent that Vance had managed to stay one step ahead. I watched him run his mouth, my expression unreadable. Thinking he’d hit a nerve, he grew bolder. “Ava told me that if you just apologize and drop the lawsuit, she’ll forgive you. Pulling a stunt like this in public just embarrasses her. You don’t deserve to be her husband.” Before I could respond, Ava walked over, her eyes sweeping over me with disdain. “Ryan, have you made enough of a scene? We don’t air our dirty laundry in public. Must I teach you that?” She shook her head. “You’re a grown man, yet you’re less mature than an intern. You should be ashamed of yourself.” The Helios CEO frowned, about to speak, but I gave her a subtle shake of my head. “What I do,” I said, looking straight at Ava, “is none of your business.” Ava rolled her eyes, an impatient smirk playing on her lips. “You’re the husband of the CEO of Vance Industries. Of course it’s my business. Stop being so dramatic.” The one-day deadline I gave you is up,” she continued, her voice dropping to a low threat. “If you don’t drop the suit, I really will cut off your grandmother’s medical resources.” I just smiled. “Go ahead.” Ava stared, her brow furrowing. “Yesterday you were ready to tear the world apart for her, and now you’ve found a new woman you’re just going to abandon her? I knew it. You were never worried about her. You were just trying to get back at me!” Her voice rose with conviction. “Besides, do you really think Helios can beat us? Have you forgotten that Vance Industries holds the patent to your grandmother’s core technology?” She leaned in close, whispering, “Just be a good boy, Ryan, and you’ll always be my husband. And your grandmother will get the best care in the world.” The title of her husband meant nothing to me anymore. My eyes burned, and I raised my hand to strike her. Suddenly, Leo shoved his way between us, dousing me with a glass of red wine. “Ryan! You were going to hit her in front of all these people? You’re a disgrace to Ava!” I stood there, soaked and humiliated. Ava just watched, a cold observer, before pulling out a tissue to dab at the wine that had splashed onto Leo’s hand. “I’m calling the hospital right now to cut off her funding,” she said, her voice flat and final. “And remember, Ryan. You did this to her.” I ignored her, heading to the restroom to change into my spare suit. After saying my goodbyes to the Helios CEO, I left the summit. As I walked out, I could already hear people congratulating Ava, assuming she would, as always, secure the top partnership of the event. While waiting for my car, the Helios CEO couldn’t help but ask, “Mr. Evans, are you sure Ms. Vance won’t interfere with our new partnership?” She was worried I might still have a soft spot for my wife. I shook my head. “Once I make a decision, I don’t look back.” I opened the car door, taking one last look at the venue. Ava was standing near the entrance, phone to her ear, our eyes meeting across the distance. Suddenly, her face changed. She started running towards me, slamming her hand on the car door to keep me from closing it. Her phone was still on speaker. A panicked secretary’s voice spilled out. “Ms. Vance, you heard me right! Professor Miller has been transferred to a private hospital!” The secretary took a shaky breath. “And… the patent license she granted us has expired. It’s been reclaimed. We’ve been disqualified from the summit!” The words hit like a thunderclap. Ava’s face was a deathly white. She shoved the phone in my face. “Ryan, explain this. Now!” Leo ran up behind her, snatching the phone and frantically scrolling through the documents the secretary had sent. “Ryan, you can’t just take back something you gave away! Is this how your family raised you?” Ava’s eyes were bloodshot with rage. “If you sign a new contract right now, I’ll forget any of this ever happened.” She held out her tablet, displaying a new agreement. I glanced at it—the offer was still a paltry few million. It was laughable. “Sorry,” I said, my voice calm. “The patent has already been sold.” A stunned silence fell over the small crowd that had gathered. Ava’s venomous gaze shifted to the Helios CEO. “You sold it to her?” she shrieked at me. “Are you insane? Terminate the contract, Ryan! Right now!” I looked at her, the woman I once loved, and felt nothing but a cold void. “Why would I turn down $180 million just to sign with you?” “One hundred and eighty million?” Leo gasped. “She didn’t just buy the patent, did she? Ryan, what else did you sell to get that kind of money?” He eyed me up and down, the implication vile. The Helios CEO had finally had enough. She signaled for security. “Ms. Vance, control your employee. If you continue to slander me or my company, I will pursue legal action.” Her voice was like ice. “Furthermore, Professor Miller’s contract with Vance Industries had expired. Any subsequent transaction is perfectly legal and protected by law.” A dozen security guards moved to surround us. Ava shot me one last look, a complex storm of emotions in her eyes. “You’ll regret this, Ryan.” Leo opened his mouth to say more, but withered under the CEO’s glare and scurried after Ava. I offered the Helios CEO a small smile. “Thank you for that.” She smiled back, her voice all business. “Mr. Evans. I look forward to a very successful partnership.” At the end of the summit, Helios Corp, armed with my grandmother’s technology, secured the grand partnership, shattering Vance Industries’ long-held monopoly on the industry. Just then, my phone rang. It was the hospital. “Mr. Evans, your grandmother is awake.” I politely declined the Helios CEO’s invitation to the celebratory dinner and rushed to her side. Back at the summit, Ava stood frozen, her knuckles white as she gripped her phone. She had thought it was just a minor car accident, something she could easily smooth over with money and influence, as she always had. Leo was just an intern she was mentoring; she’d planned to settle privately to protect his promising career. In her world, Leo was a future asset for her company, while Ryan was just her dependent husband who should simply do as he was told. She never imagined he would not only call the police but also reclaim the patent that was the very lifeblood of her empire. She thought freezing his accounts and threatening his grandmother’s care would bring him to his knees. She had grossly underestimated his resolve. “Ryan is just angry, Ava. He’s just taking it out on you because he feels threatened by me. It’s for the good of the company,” Leo murmured, trying to take her hand with a fawning smile. Ava yanked her hand away, a flash of irritation in her eyes. Normally, she didn’t mind his affectionate gestures, but today, they repulsed her. The image of Ryan’s cold, distant eyes at the summit made her chest ache. It was Ryan who had blown this out of proportion, Ryan who had cost her the summit, yet she was the one who felt like a piece of her had been carved out. “Are we going home now, Ava?” Leo asked tentatively. Ava was silent for a moment, then bit her lip. “We’re going to the hospital.” She was clinging to a sliver of hope, telling herself this was all a bluff—the hospital transfer, the $180 million deal, all an elaborate charade orchestrated by Helios Corp. She believed that once she showed up in person, Ryan would fold, just like he always had, begging for her forgiveness. But when she arrived at the hospital, the cold reality hit her. Her grandmother was in a VIP suite with a dedicated team of nurses, her surgery already a success. Ava stood outside the room, watching through the glass as Ryan spoke softly to his grandmother, a knot tightening in her chest. “Ryan, you’re here?” Grandma’s voice was weak, but her eyes landed on Leo, and her pupils contracted. She recognized him. He was the one behind the wheel. Leo let out a soft, mocking laugh. “Professor Miller, do you have any idea what your dear grandson has done? This fancy room, these top doctors… he paid for it all by selling Vance Industries’ corporate secrets. He’ll do anything to get back at Ava, won’t he? He has no shame.” It was a line Leo had used before, and Ava had always dismissed it as youthful arrogance. But hearing it now, it sounded grating and cruel. Grandma pushed herself up, her face pale with fury as the heart monitor beside her bed began to beep erratically. “You’re lying! You hit me! And you have the nerve to stand here and spread lies?” Ava started to intervene, but a sharp CRACK echoed through the room. I had burst through the door and slapped Leo across the face. “Grandma just got out of surgery, and you dare come here to agitate her? What is wrong with you?” I grabbed him by the collar, my voice shaking with rage. “Instead of spewing your filth here, you should be thinking about what you’re going to say in court tomorrow. A judge won’t be so easily fooled by your pathetic act!”

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Seven years after our divorce, I saw Sean Hughes again during an assignment on the border. I was a war correspondent. He was one of the expatriates being evacuated. Seeing my face covered in grime, he instinctively reached out to wipe it clean. I turned away, avoiding his touch, and gave him a polite nod. Sean froze, slowly pulling his hand back. A self-mocking smile touched his lips. “Ava,” he said, “you still resent me, don’t you?” I was surprised by his assumption, but I kept my tone courteous. “Not at all, Mr. Hughes. You’re overthinking it.” My own horizon was too vast to be bothered with the narrow patch of sky he occupied. 1 The hot, humid air, thick with sand, stung my nostrils. I didn’t have time to clean up before boarding the plane, and a fit of coughing left me apologizing awkwardly to the other passengers. A moist towelette appeared in front of me. “Here, clean yourself up.” Sean was looking at me, his expression a complicated mix of emotions. “I upgraded your seat. It’ll be more comfortable up front.” I thanked him calmly. “Thank you, but there’s no need. My colleague is sitting with me.” He hesitated, his eyes flicking to Leo, my cameraman. “What… what are you doing now?” “I’m a journalist.” Sean’s mouth twisted into a sad smile. “You were the star reporter at Momentum News. You never had to get your hands dirty like this…” “I love my work,” I said, my voice gentle but firm. “The plane is about to take off, Mr. Hughes. You should return to your seat.” He suddenly seemed aware of how out of place he was, standing alone in the narrow aisle. He said nothing more, just gave a silent nod and walked away. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Leo leaned in, his face alight with gossip. “Ava, new flame?” I raised an eyebrow. “You studied journalism and you don’t recognize him?” Seeing his blank look, I prompted him. “Sean Hughes.” Leo’s eyes went wide. “That’s Sean Hughes?!” “The whistleblower who exposed the Zenith Group’s dirty supply chain?” I smiled. “The one and only.” Before he made his fortune, Sean became an overnight sensation for exposing corruption in his industry. Everyone thought he’d be blacklisted, but he rode the wave of publicity, started his own company, and was now a leader in the field. “I remember that story! It was huge! The reporter who covered it became famous overnight, too. Her name was… Diana something?” He scratched his head. “Wait, Momentum News broke that story, and you used to work there. No wonder he knows you. Did you interview him back then?” I folded the towel the flight attendant had given me. “Of course,” I said with a small smile. “I was in charge of his story.” “That’s how we met. It wasn’t long before we got married.” Leo’s jaw dropped. “Then… what about now?” “We’ve been divorced for many years,” I said, my tone breezy and unconcerned. The announcement for takeoff began, and after a moment of weightlessness, the plane broke through the clouds. I rubbed my ears, which were popping from the pressure change. “But… wait a minute,” Leo said after a long silence. “I remember the byline on that story. The reporter’s last name was Zhou.” “Diana Zhou,” I said, the name feeling foreign on my tongue. “She was my mentor at Momentum.” 2 Most young journalists are full of fire. We worship the seasoned veterans—the ones with razor-sharp prose who can cut to the heart of any story. At Momentum News, Diana Zhou was the sharpest of them all. She lived up to her name, a force of nature. She had a sleek, short haircut and wore simple, understated clothes, with no trace of makeup or vanity. I used to call her my master, but she’d scoff and tell me she wasn’t some kung fu grandmaster, and to just call her by her name, or mentor. “Diana,” I’d said to her once, my voice hesitant. “That whistleblower… the one who exposed the dirty supply chain… he’s trying to start his own business now.” “Mm,” she’d replied without looking up from her desk. “Your initial report was excellent. I’ve edited it for publication tomorrow.” “Could we—could we maybe give him a few follow-up interviews?” I asked quietly. I expected an outburst, but instead, Diana looked up from her mountain of paperwork, her brow furrowed. “Why?” “He’s… he’s been blacklisted by the entire industry. I just think… he could use the publicity. Even a little bit.” I took a deep breath. “I know we’ve already gotten the core story, but… as journalists, we shouldn’t just stand by while a good man who did the right thing is ruined.” “I want to help him.” After some persuading, Diana finally agreed. As I celebrated my small victory, she sighed. “Fine. You can handle the follow-up interviews. I’ll publish the main story under my byline.” I thanked her profusely, not caring in the slightest about who got the credit. At the time, Sean and I weren’t together. I was helping him purely out of a journalist’s sense of justice. But over the course of those follow-up interviews, we were drawn to each other, and a relationship blossomed naturally. Sean’s story exploded. Everyone was talking about it. The initial hype wasn’t about him personally, but my subsequent interviews managed to keep a spotlight on him. It wasn’t enough to save him from the industry’s backlash, though. He worked day and night, desperate to build something new from the ashes. The winters in Brookhaven were brutal. I ached for him, working so hard, and he worried about me, chasing stories in the freezing cold. We’d often rush from our respective offices late at night, only to bump into each other halfway. He’d pull a warm paper bag of roasted chestnuts from his coat, and I’d hand him a steaming cup of coffee. We’d smile, then walk back to our small apartment through the gently falling snow, our footsteps muffled and slow. Later, when his business took off and he became the new titan of his industry, every news outlet clamored for an interview. He always gave Momentum News the exclusive. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have now arrived in Brookhaven. Please collect all your personal belongings…” I snapped out of my long-lost dream and looked out the window at the familiar city below. Leo volunteered to get our luggage. I waited for him by the arrival gate, already mentally outlining my next news report. “Ava Lin?” A familiar voice pulled me back to reality. I looked up. “Diana,” I said, a sense of understanding dawning on me. “You’re here to pick up Sean.” She smiled brightly. “It’s late. I came to take him home.” Looking at her, I felt a strange sense of detachment. Diana had grown her hair long, each strand falling in a perfect, glossy wave. Her bright red lipstick and pale green dress made her look delicate and captivating. Sean emerged before Leo did. “I just bought some flowers at the airport shop to take home,” he said, then his eyes met mine. “Ava… you haven’t left yet.” Diana linked her arm through his affectionately. “We were just chatting. Darling, look. Don’t you think Ava’s changed so much?” “…She has,” he said, his voice strained. “Her hair’s so short, and her clothes are so…” Diana giggled. “See? This is why we were mentor and mentee. She looks exactly like I did back in the day!” “Diana,” I said calmly. “You, on the other hand, haven’t changed a bit.” Her smile faltered for a second, then returned, tinged with a sigh. “Ava, you’re still holding a grudge against us.” “Not at all,” I said, smiling back. “It’s just… the thought of being exactly like you makes me sick.” I glanced over at Leo, who was standing nearby, his mouth agape, and nodded. “Let’s go.” 3 The station’s car was parked some distance away. Leo and I, laden with equipment, started walking. Halfway there, a Bentley pulled up beside us. Diana leaned out from the passenger seat. “Come on, Ava. We’ll give you a lift.” I was about to refuse, but seeing Leo struggling under the weight of the bags, I nodded. “Thank you. Just drop us at the next intersection.” The car was filled with the scent of citrus. I wrinkled my nose instinctively. Diana turned around, her face a mask of apology. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I just put on some perfume. I forgot you hate this scent, don’t you?” Before I could answer, all the windows rolled down. “Let’s get some air in here,” Sean said, his voice flat. Diana’s smile froze. Her eyes scanned our equipment. “Ava,” she asked casually, “Sean tells me you’re still working as a journalist?” She let out a small laugh. “The small-time papers out there aren’t like Momentum, you know. You have to hustle for every story, beg for every interview.” She pouted, her tone chiding. “Look at you. You should take better care of yourself. You’re over thirty, and you look so weathered.” Leo opened his mouth to protest, but a look from me silenced him. “We have an opening in our PR department,” Sean said suddenly. Diana’s face lit up. “That’s right! Someone just quit. Ava, you might be a little old to be starting over, but I’m the head of the department. I could save an internship spot for you. What do you think?” “No, thank you,” I said, rubbing my tired temples. “I wouldn’t want to take a job from someone younger. I’m quite happy where I am.” Diana just chuckled and didn’t press the issue. “We’re here,” Sean said quietly. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “If you ever need any help, you can come to us.” “Okay, thank you,” I said, treating it as a polite, empty offer. But as we got out, Diana jumped out of the car and grabbed my arm. “Ava, I know you blame us, but what’s past is past. Don’t be so proud. Look at what you’ve done to yourself, how you’ve let yourself go.” “Let herself go? Ava is—” Leo finally burst out, but I shot him a look that stopped him cold. I looked calmly at Diana. “Diana,” I said, “I remember your old dream. You wanted to be a war correspondent, didn’t you?”

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The lab was exploding, and my childhood sweetheart was begging me to save him. Suddenly, a barrage of bullet comments floated across the sky: [The male lead has been reborn! This explosion wasn’t an accident; he set it up on purpose. Anyway, the female supporting character is such a simp, she’ll definitely rush in to save him like in her past life.] [The male lead is so smart. After the fire started, he even poured some gasoline on it. Only by burning the supporting character to death can he avoid marrying her disfigured face out of gratitude like last time. He made the heroine be his mistress for eight years for nothing!] [Good thing the male lead loves the heroine. After using the supporting character’s dowry to build his empire, he suffocated her with a pillow so he could marry our heroine.] [I remember the heroine is the supporting character’s stepsister, right? She’s already pregnant with the male lead’s child? Tsk tsk, forbidden love between brother-in-law and sister-in-law, so spicy!] [Supporting character, hurry in and save the male lead! We can’t wait to see the sweet romance between the leads!] Save him? I pretended to be frightened, retreated to a safe distance, and then gracefully fainted. My boyfriend’s voice grew weaker. I couldn’t help but smile. “Jason, in this life, I’m going to destroy you!” 1 Flames licked the glass windows of the laboratory, twisting my shadow into grotesque shapes. Jason’s hoarse cries for help rang in my ears. “Sarah! Save me!” But he was clearly certain I would rush in, his tone devoid of panic. I didn’t make a sound, standing still. In my past life, I rushed into the fire and dragged him out, leaving half my face permanently scarred like a centipede. He held me and cried, saying he would be responsible for me for the rest of his life. But then he turned around and complained that I was an embarrassment to take out. He forced me to hand over all the gold bars and property deeds my grandfather left me, claiming it was compensation for the grievance he suffered due to my disfigurement. Bullet comments exploded in my vision again: [Hurry up, the heroine is still waiting outside. Just waiting for the fire to get bigger so she can ‘save’ the supporting character’s corpse. Then she can play the loving sister and trick the grandfather into leaving the inheritance to her!] [Why isn’t she moving? If something happens to the male lead, won’t she die of regret?] In the smoke, Jason coughed incessantly. Seeing no reaction from me for a long time, he finally panicked. “Sarah, I saw you! Why aren’t you coming in to save me!” “My… my leg is pinned, I can’t run! Don’t worry, the fire isn’t big yet, you’ll be fine. Once we’re out, I promise to marry you!” I stared at the anxious face in the sea of fire, suddenly recalling how he suffocated me with a pillow in my past life, his face twisted as he blamed me: “If you hadn’t pestered me and used saving my life to blackmail me, why would I marry an ugly monster like you? You ruined my love with Chloe, you deserve to die!” I curled my lips, my laughter drowned out by the crackling fire. Since Chloe is so great, let her save Jason. I took a sharp step back, ensuring the distance was safe. Then, I let myself fall backward. As I faked fainting, I faintly heard Jason’s screams. Getting weaker… [What’s wrong with the supporting character? Why did she faint? If she doesn’t save him, what about the male lead?] [It’s over, it’s over, the male lead poured gasoline this time! Where’s the heroine? Come save him!] A second before my eyelids closed, I heard the sirens of fire trucks approaching. I covered my nose and mouth, the corners of my lips rising uncontrollably. Jason. Let the games begin. 2 When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a VIP hospital room. I subconsciously touched my cheek. Smooth and perfect as always. The smell of disinfectant was mixed with a familiar, cloyingly sweet citrus perfume. Just like Chloe herself. She was sitting by the bed peeling an apple. Seeing me wake up, her eyes immediately reddened. “Sis, you scared me to death! Jason is still in emergency surgery. The doctor said… his face might be ruined.” The bullet comments were furious: [It’s all Sarah’s fault! If she hadn’t fainted at the critical moment, how would the male lead be hurt so badly? She must take full responsibility!] [Heroine, hurry up and gaslight her! Make her pay for his treatment. She owes you guys anyway!] I ignored these NPC comments, tugged at the IV tube, and looked indifferent. “Is that so? That’s a pity. He cared about that face the most.” Chloe’s knife paused. “Sis, how can you say that? Jason went to the lab to keep you company…” I laughed out loud. “Keep me company? Yesterday he specifically told me he wanted the lab to himself today and told me not to come.” “Then he messaged me ten minutes before the explosion, urging me to go over. Ten minutes, exactly the time it takes to walk from my dorm to the lab.” Chloe’s face paled, her hand holding the knife trembling uncontrollably. A nurse walked in just then. I raised an eyebrow and deliberately asked the nurse: “Nurse, do we have the results of the explosion investigation? I thought I saw a shadow and smelled gasoline.” The nurse paused. “Gasoline? Not sure, but the fire department said there were signs of secondary ignition, like an accelerant was used.” “The police will probably come to question you later. You can tell them.” Clang. The fruit knife dropped to the floor. Chloe gripped the apple, head lowered, expression hidden. The nurse thought she was scared, picked up the knife, and comforted her. But she quickly stood up and grabbed her phone from the table. It rang suddenly, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she made an excuse to leave. I closed my eyes, sneering internally. I saw the caller ID. It was Jason. He’s quite capable, waking up so fast. Well, as his “girlfriend,” I have to go visit him. 3 The doctor checked me over. Confirming I was fine, I could be discharged after the IV finished. When I went to see Jason, his face was wrapped in thick gauze. Seeing me enter, he struggled to sit up, voice choking: “Sarah, I’m so glad you’re okay… I thought I’d never see you again.” “Why did you… suddenly faint?” He seemed suspicious. I took two steps back and sighed: “The fire was too big, the heat suffocated me. Otherwise, I would have definitely saved you.” “By the way, Jason, even if an experiment went wrong, the fire shouldn’t have been that big, right? Did you use some special materials?” Jason’s expression shifted, seemingly annoyed that he poured a bucket of gasoline and burned himself. The bullet comments cared more about his health than he did, filling the screen with demands for money. [The supporting character is shameless, just bringing a fruit basket? Hurry up and pay for his treatment!] [Yeah, I remember she has 30% of the shares, worth about a billion. She should give it all to him as an apology!] Jason reached out, clutching the hem of my shirt. “Don’t worry about the medical bills… I can…” He coughed violently, covering his mouth with a tissue. “I’m just short on the surgery fee, I don’t want you to…” I stifled a laugh, placing the fruit basket on the nightstand. Funny. Even as the “male lead,” he still has to beg me, the “vicious supporting character,” for money. “I asked the doctor. Your follow-up treatment will cost a lot. I contacted Grandpa, but he said my trust fund can’t be touched until I get married.” Jason stiffened, the corner of his mouth twitching under the gauze. “What do you mean?” I shrugged innocently. “Exactly what I said. I have no money right now. You’ll have to figure it out yourself.” In my past life, lying in the hospital bed, before I could say anything… He started complaining about being tight on money and told me to figure out the medical bills myself. I was just returning his words to him, verbatim. He clearly realized this, his eyes under the gauze full of scrutiny. Just as we were at a stalemate, the door opened. A man in a black suit walked in, followed by a lawyer. Tall, sharp-eyed. He nodded slightly upon seeing me: “Miss Shen, I am Ethan He, your grandfather’s legal counsel. He heard about your accident and asked me to check on you.” I paused, seeing the comments pop up: [Who is this guy? Looks tough.] [Is he here to help the supporting character? What about our leads!] Oh~ so these self-proclaimed omniscient NPCs don’t know everything. I remembered Ethan. A ruthless figure in the legal world, managing billions in overseas assets for my grandfather at a young age. In my past life, after I was disfigured, he visited once. Frowned and said Jason wasn’t good enough for me. Never saw him again. Jason recognized him too, his tone instantly polite. “Mr. He, sorry to trouble you.” Ethan ignored him, walking straight to me. “Miss Shen, do you need me to handle the follow-up? Including the liability assessment for the lab.” Seeing the flash of inquiry in his eyes, I looked him over. Black eyes deep as a cold pool, pale skin making him look noble and sharp. Much easier on the eyes than the mummy-faced Jason. I suddenly had a great idea. 4 After leaving the hospital, I met Ethan at a nearby cafe. Stirring my coffee, I spoke first. “Mr. He, I want to propose a partnership.” Ethan looked up, a hint of interest in his eyes. “Please, go ahead.” I looked him in the eye and said clearly: “Jason doesn’t deserve me.” “But it’s inconvenient for me to act right now. So I want to hire you to help me deal with Jason… and my stepsister, Chloe.” “Of course, I won’t ask for free help. The Shen family has a plot of land in the West City, good location. If you help me make them pay, I’ll transfer it to you at cost.” Ethan put down his spoon, leaning forward slightly, tone playful. “Is Miss Shen using me as a tool for revenge?” I smirked. “Don’t put it like that. It’s a win-win. You get the land and make a profit. I get revenge and peace of mind.” He was silent for a few seconds, then laughed: “Miss Shen is quite the calculator. But I’m not interested in that land.” “Then what do you want?” Ethan’s gaze landed on my face, deep eyes pulling me in. “What I want, perhaps, is a favor from you, Miss Shen.” My heart skipped a beat, but I kept my face calm. “A favor is an intangible thing. Doesn’t Mr. He feel he’s losing out?” Slender fingers tapped the table lightly as Ethan spoke slowly: “In my opinion, a favor from Miss Shen is worth much more than a plot of land.” Ethan He was dangerous. But having died once, Sarah Shen feared no danger. I raised an eyebrow and extended my hand with a smile. “Then, here’s to a happy partnership.”

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1 After seven secret years, I was pregnant with the Will family heir. But Graham still hadn’t married me—because I was the city’s shame: an illegitimate daughter. For me, he’d defied his family, surrendered 40% of his controlling stake, and taken a reckless wager: to earn the company ten billion dollars before our child was born. The impossible deal shocked everyone. They all believed his love was absolute. At six months, I went to his office with my ultrasound. Outside, I saw him hand a major client to his biggest rival. His friend Leo confronted him. “Nora’s due soon, and you’re giving away a billion-dollar deal? You’ll lose the wager—you’ll never marry her!” After a silence, Graham’s voice cut clear. “Win or lose, I’m still the Will heir. What’s there to fear? She’ll stay by my side. Who would dare speak against her?” His tone hardened. “But Rosalind was there for me during Nora’s three years abroad. She nearly died for me. The only reason she survives the Vance family viper’s nest is the marriage contract I gave her.” “If I actually win this wager… what happens to Rosalind?” Rosalind Vance. My half-sister. The deepest shadow of my life. I stared at the ultrasound, the words “perfectly healthy” blurring. After a moment, I raised my hand and knocked. … Leo Grant, Graham’s best friend, saw me and immediately broke into a warm smile. “Nora! You’re here! Come on in, sit down. How was the check-up?” “Graham, I’m serious, man,” he said, turning to my fiancé. “Nora’s getting bigger by the day, and you know every eye in the city is on you two. You need to hurry up! I heard that Caden Hayes has been asking around about Nora lately.” Leo shot Graham a meaningful look. “You’ve gotta feel the heat, man. Pay attention, you hear me?” I could tell Leo was trying to nudge Graham, to remind him what was at stake. In this treacherous world of ours, there weren’t many people who genuinely wished me well. He was one of them. I held my breath, waiting for Graham’s reaction. “Is that so?” Those three words, delivered so lightly, were like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head. That’s it? Seven years ago, or even just before I went abroad, the mere mention of another man near me would have sent him into a jealous fit. I’ll never forget the time he’d jumped in front of me to fend off a group of thugs. He’d gotten bruised and cut, but he’d still looked at me with that stubborn intensity and said, “Nora Lane, the only man who stands by your side is me.” It wasn’t until much later that I learned those thugs never bothered me again because Caden Hayes had quietly dealt with them. But at that moment, Graham had been the only light in my gray world. Three years abroad, and everything had changed. The name ‘Rosalind,’ spoken so easily from his lips, felt like a slap across my face, shattering every fantasy I’d ever held. Leo noticed the change in my expression and quickly tried to smooth things over. “Nora, how were the results?” “Everything’s fine.” I handed the report to Graham, adding an explanation. “Caden and I are old friends. He looked out for me a lot when I was overseas.” Graham just waved it off. “I know. My Nora only has room in her heart for me. What’s a Caden Hayes to worry about?” I forced a smile, unable to hide the bitterness. In our relationship, Graham had always been supremely confident. I looked at him, finally asking the question that had been swirling in my mind for weeks. “How is the project coming along?” “The baby is already six months.” Graham rubbed his temples, a perfectly measured look of apology on his face. “Nora, I’m sorry. This time… I might have to disappoint you again.” “I’ll try harder next time, okay?” He reached for my hand, but I shifted slightly, and his fingers brushed against empty air. If I hadn’t overheard, who would have guessed that this project, already in the bag, was one he had deliberately let slip away? How many “next times” had there been in these seven years? It wasn’t the first time he’d had to fight for us. He’d won the bid for a fiercely contested piece of land on the east side just so the family would allow him to fly overseas to see me for a single day. He’d secured a major international subsidiary just to get their nod of approval for us to officially date. Every step forward was treated like a gift from the gods. Each one required a monumental effort from him and my boundless gratitude. Yet, between him and Rosalind, these insurmountable obstacles seemed to never exist. Their engagement was public knowledge, a smooth and celebrated affair. The year I first went abroad, I had secretly rejoiced, thinking the “Vance daughter” everyone was talking about was me. Was it all wrong simply because I was an illegitimate child, a secret not meant for the light of day? “If this project fails, I’ll likely lose the shares I currently hold in the company.” His eyes held a pleading look, a strategic retreat. “Nora, if I have nothing left, you won’t leave me, will you?” There he was again, using my guilt and my sympathy to chain me to him. “No,” I heard myself say, my voice flat. Graham breathed a sigh of relief, his tone firming up again. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep fighting the family for the next opportunity.” His gaze fell to my stomach. “It just means you’ll have to go through this alone for a little while. You’ll have to deliver our baby first.” I lowered my eyes, hiding the storm of emotions inside me. Just like countless times before, I obediently agreed. “Okay. I know. I don’t mind.” I was never the type to press for answers or make a scene. Just then, my phone rang. It was my father. “Come home for dinner tonight. It’s your sister Rosalind’s birthday. The whole family will be here. You have to come.” After hanging up, I told Graham I had to go. I couldn’t stand to be in that room a moment longer. But for some reason, I didn’t leave immediately. From inside the office, I heard Graham’s voice again. “Have that pink diamond from the auction house prepared. Make sure it’s wrapped beautifully and send it over to the Vances.” Leo exploded. “Are you fucking serious? You’re really going through with marrying Rosalind Vance? A pink diamond? What about Nora and the baby? You know those two sisters are like fire and ice!” “If Nora can’t handle it and runs off, let’s see how much you regret it then!” My heart stopped. Then came Graham’s voice, cold and sharp enough to cut through bone. “Once the baby is born, she’ll be tied to me. With that connection, even with Rosalind in the picture, Nora will never leave.” “Besides, it’s a sham marriage. What does it matter? Nora isn’t the type to make a fuss.” I leaned against the wall, slowly pulling myself upright. A faint, sharp pain twisted in my abdomen, making it hard to breathe. I placed a hand over the warmth of my belly. And then, a single, crystal-clear thought cut through all my carefully constructed nonchalance. This baby… I couldn’t keep it. My steps were unsteady as I arrived at the Vance family home. “Nora, you’re here! Oh, let me see, has the baby been behaving?” Rosalind greeted me with a cloying sweetness, her hand reaching for my stomach. Her circle of socialite friends immediately swarmed around us like a flock of chattering birds. “Oh, Rosalind, this baby will definitely be closest to you! It’ll probably say ‘mama’ to you first!” “Exactly! Graham even gave Rosalind the marriage contract. She’s the official Mrs. Will. Who else would the baby be close to?” Their words confirmed everything I had overheard. There really was a marriage contract. Then, another voice dropped a bombshell. “And did you hear? I think Rosalind saved Graham’s life once! It’s such a shame her health is so poor. The doctors say it’ll be very difficult for her to have children of her own. So tragic.” “Wait… could it be that this Nora girl, brought back from the countryside and getting pregnant out of wedlock… was just meant to be a surrogate for Rosalind?” That one sentence opened the floodgates of all my doubts. So, this child in my belly… what was it to them? A gift prepared for Rosalind? An icy chill shot through my body, and I felt frozen to the spot. Just then, Graham arrived. His assistant followed, carrying a gift box containing a pink diamond the size of a small fist. Gasps of awe filled the room. Graham’s voice was calm. “Happy birthday, Rosalind.” What a gift. I looked down at the delicate necklace I was wearing. It also had a pink diamond pendant, but it was no bigger than a grain of rice. It was an anniversary gift from him a few weeks ago. It suits you perfectly, he had said. So, in his heart, only Rosalind was worthy of a priceless treasure. One of the girls beside Rosalind laughed openly. “That’s a nice little thing around Nora’s neck, but the size…” “Well, it’s not surprising. Given her background, an illegitimate girl is lucky to wear a diamond at all.” Illegitimate. Again. If it hadn’t been for Rosalind’s mother, crashing my own mother’s wedding with a baby in her arms, my mother never would have suffered the shock that led to her dying in childbirth. I never would have been born without a mother. For seventeen years, I was the “wild child” living with my grandmother, never once experiencing the warmth or privilege of the Vance family. How dare they mock me with my own scars? Graham noticed my pale face and came over, pulling a translucent green jade bracelet from his pocket. “It was my grandmother’s. For good luck and protection.” He lowered his voice. “Don’t listen to them. There’s nothing between Rosalind and me. I only see her as a sister.” A sister? Right. I was too exhausted to even question him. I pulled my hand away. “I’m a little tired. I’m going upstairs to rest.” My room opened onto a garden, and I could hear Leo and a few of Graham’s other friends confronting Rosalind below. “Rosalind, don’t you get it? Graham’s feelings for you are just a mix of pity and using your family’s connections.” “Everyone in the city knows who he really loves! It’s Nora!” “Are you that desperate? Nora, your sister, is about to give birth! Have some decency!” The argument grew heated. Suddenly, Graham’s voice cut through, fiercely defending Rosalind. “That’s enough! Who said no one wants Rosalind?” In that instant, any shred of hope I had left crumbled to dust. My vision blurred with tears as I instinctively unlocked my phone. “Hello, Doctor? I need to schedule a procedure.” I was so thin that even after the procedure, no one could tell I’d lost the baby. When I stumbled out of the recovery room, I ran right into Caden Hayes. He didn’t seem to notice anything was different. “Nora?” He walked over. “What are you doing here? You look terrible.” I managed a weak smile and, without a second of hesitation, told him the truth. “An abortion.” Caden’s pupils contracted, a flash of fury crossing his face before he suppressed it. “You fool. I told you Graham Will was no good.” I smiled faintly. “You knew about him and Rosalind, didn’t you?” Caden looked away, flustered. “I heard whispers, back when you were overseas. But I didn’t think you would have believed me even if I told you.” He was right. Back then, blinded by seven years of love, I would have automatically blocked out anything negative about Graham. “Nora, I won’t tell anyone about this,” Caden said as I was leaving. He grabbed my arm. “What I asked you seven years ago… are you willing to reconsider?” For a moment, the man standing before me wasn’t the flashy, spoiled heir I knew. He was the sun-drenched boy from our small town who would ride his bike for ten miles in the summer heat just to buy me a milk tea. But I didn’t answer. Right now, I didn’t feel I had the right. That night, I didn’t go back to the apartment I shared with Graham. I went to the Vance house instead. As I passed the study, I overheard Rosalind and her mother plotting. “We have to strike before that baby is born! We can’t let her use the child to gain power, just like we dealt with her short-lived mother…” “Rosalind, you can’t hesitate any longer!” I froze outside the door, my limbs weak. I was powerless against them, especially now that Rosalind held a position in the family company. My only comfort was that Graham was leaving on a business trip soon. I could recover in peace at our apartment. Three months later, Graham returned. His eyes instinctively went to my stomach, which should have been round and full. “You look like you’ve lost weight. Not eating well?” I quietly agreed. He didn’t press the issue, instead pushing several expensive gift boxes toward me. I had no interest in opening them. They would be the usual jewels and limited-edition handbags—opulent but thoughtless. He had never once tried to understand what I truly wanted. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.” Graham sat down, his voice serious. “Nora, there’s something you need to know.” “The Vance family is a threat to the baby now, and so is my own family. This is the first Will grandchild, after all.” “I’ve arranged a villa for you overseas. You can go there and wait for the birth in peace. Once the baby is born safely, I’ll bring you back.” I listened silently, my heart numb. It was as if he were confirming my darkest fears. Then, he delivered the final blow. “There’s one other thing. The company is putting a lot of pressure on me regarding Rosalind.” “She needs the title of ‘Mrs. Will’ to secure her position on the board. So, I agreed… we’ll have a wedding soon.” He quickly added, his voice urgent, “It’s just an act! It’s for show. We won’t file any legal papers.” “Once this all blows over, I’ll give you everything you deserve.” “Nora, you understand, don’t you? It’s just a strategic move.” I looked up, trying to find a trace of love in his eyes. All I saw was my own reflection, as if I were the only person in his world. But why did the words from someone who claimed to love me cut so deep? “Okay. I’ll do whatever you say.” My consent clearly relieved him. “Nora, I knew you’d understand! We’re going to be the happiest family of three!” That night, while Graham was in the shower, I lay in bed and composed a text. [Caden, about your offer… I’ve thought about it. Let’s meet and talk.] The next morning, I woke to a heavy sense of pressure. I opened my eyes to see Graham standing over me, holding my phone. The screen was on, displaying my text exchange with Caden. I didn’t know how much he’d seen. I had never contacted Caden before, so that one message was it. I didn’t know what he might have replied. I had fallen asleep right after sending it, never imagining Graham would decide to check my phone. His face was a thundercloud. “Nora, when did you start talking to Caden Hayes?” “And what are these pills? Why were you at the OB-GYN clinic?”

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My husband has a bizarre fetish. Role-playing. And in his twisted scripts, I’m always cast as the devoted wife he casts aside. Today, he’s the ruthless tycoon who falls for the nanny. Tomorrow, he’s the brilliant professor infatuated with his student. Each time, he makes me sign a divorce agreement, only to tear it up with a laugh the next day. “Darling,” he’d say, “it’s just a game.” That is, until my mother was in a car accident and needed $50,000 for emergency surgery. On that day, he was role-playing a bankrupt loser. “I’m broke, darling, completely penniless. Where would I get the money to save your mother?” I watched my mother take her last breath. On the day of her funeral, he showed up with a beautiful young college student on his arm. “Honey, I’ve fallen in love with my student. Let’s get a divorce.” Frank pulled a document from his briefcase and handed it to me. This time, I didn’t wait for him to tear it up. 1 A fresh divorce agreement. His signature was already on it. The game again. He was starting the game again, right here, at my mother’s wake, just after I’d lost the only family I had left. I stared at him, at that handsome face I once adored. For the past three years, every time he produced one of these agreements, I would play my part. I’d cry, I’d scream, I’d demand to know why. And then he’d laugh, rip up the paper, and pull me into his arms, cooing that it was all just for fun. He called it spicing things up, a way to keep the magic alive. And I believed him. But now, my mother was lying in a coffin just a few feet away. Before she died, she had gripped my hand, her eyes fixed on the door, waiting. She was waiting for the son-in-law she’d always treated as her own to come and see her one last time. He never came. I knelt before her coffin and pressed my forehead to the cold floor in a final, silent goodbye. Then I stood, and took the pen from Frank’s hand. There were no tears. No hysterics. As he watched, I wrote my name, each stroke deliberate and firm. “There. It’s done.” Frank froze. The breakdown, the screaming fit he was expecting, never came. The woman standing before him was unnervingly calm. “Clara, what kind of trick is this?” he frowned, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. The student, Mia, sensed something was wrong too. Her hand tightened on his arm. “Professor Vance… do you think she’s just in shock?” I ignored them. I picked up the second signed copy of the agreement, folded it neatly, and placed it in my purse. “Frank,” I said, looking him straight in the eye, my voice even and clear. “The game is over.” 2 The next morning, I went to the courthouse. I filed the petition for divorce, along with the legally signed agreement. The clerk glanced from the document to my face, then processed the paperwork with bureaucratic indifference. I pulled out my phone. The screen was flooded with missed calls and texts from Frank. “Clara, have you had your little tantrum yet? Get home now!” “I’ve torn up the agreement. We can pretend this never happened.” “How dare you hang up on me? Who do you think you are?” The last one had arrived half an hour ago: “If you’re not back by tonight, don’t ever bother coming back at all!” I blocked his number. I rented a small apartment, and after a bit of cleaning, I started my job search. After Frank and I got married, he’d convinced me to quit my job to be a full-time housewife, a willing participant in his endless, tedious role-playing games. He said he loved me, loved me to his very core, and that’s why he wanted to experience the thrill of falling in love with me over and over again in different scenarios. He insisted the cruel, heartless men who cast their wives aside in his games weren’t the real him. It was just acting. How ridiculous that sounds now. Maybe he was never acting at all. Maybe those cold, selfish, cruel masks were his true face. The court summons reached Frank quickly. I was in the middle of a job interview when his call came through. “Clara! Are you out of your goddamn mind? You actually took me to court?” I calmly walked to the end of the hallway. “Frank, we both signed the divorce agreement. The legal filing is just a formality to speed things up.” “Formality? Let me tell you something, this divorce is not happening!” “Frank, my mother is dead,” I said, cutting him off. There was a brief silence on the other end. “I know,” he said, his voice turning cold. “But that was her fate. You can’t take your anger out on me. A game is a game, and reality is reality. Can’t you even tell the difference?” “You’re the one who can’t tell the difference anymore.” I hung up and went back to my interview. It was for a clerical position at a small firm. The pay wasn’t great, but it was enough to support myself. The interview went well, and they told me I could start on Monday. That evening, when I returned to my apartment, I found two people waiting at my door. Frank and Mia. Frank’s face was a thundercloud. Mia just looked smug, as if she were here to watch a show. “Well, Clara. You’ve certainly grown a spine. Daring to play games with me for real?” Frank stepped forward, blocking my path. “There are no more games to be played between us, real or fake,” I said, trying to step around him to unlock my door. He grabbed my wrist, his grip like steel. “Come home. Come back with me, and I can forget any of this ever happened.” “Let go of me,” my voice was ice. “Clara, don’t push your luck!” Mia fanned the flames from the side. “Professor, she’s just doing this for attention. It’s a classic move. Don’t fall for it.” Frank started to drag me away. “Frank, if you don’t let go right now, I’m going to scream.” “Go ahead! Scream! Let’s see who dares to get involved in a husband and wife’s private business!” he roared. A few neighbors peeked out of their doors at the commotion, but seeing Frank’s furious expression, they quickly retreated. I lifted my free hand and, with all the strength I could muster, I slapped him across the face. The sharp crack echoed in the hallway. Everyone froze. Including Frank. He touched his cheek, his eyes wide with disbelief. “You… you hit me?” 3 A furious fire ignited in Frank’s eyes. He raised his hand as if to strike back, but at the last second, he stopped himself. He stared at me, his gaze so intense it felt like he wanted to devour me whole. “Clara. You’ve got guts. Real guts.” He released my arm, forcing the words through gritted teeth. “You will regret this.” With that, he grabbed Mia’s hand and stormed away. Watching them disappear down the stairs, I finally noticed my hands were shaking. Not from fear, but from rage. I went inside the empty apartment and shut the door, sliding down against it until I was sitting on the floor. There was no trace of Frank here, yet I still felt like I was suffocating. His so-called games had left a deeper scar on me than I had ever realized. The next afternoon, I got a call from the bank. Our joint account had been frozen. It held all our savings—though, of course, most of it was money Frank had earned. I had expected this, so I wasn’t panicked. I still had a little money my mother had left me. If I was careful, it would be enough to last until my first paycheck. On Wednesday, while I was still getting the hang of my new job, a gaudily dressed woman burst into the office and pointed a finger right at my face. “Clara Vance! You shameless homewrecker! How dare you seduce my husband!” I stared at her, completely stunned, as every one of my new colleagues turned to gawk. “Ma’am, I think you must have the wrong person,” my supervisor said, stepping forward. “No, it’s her!” The woman brandished a photograph. It was a picture of me with a man. He was an old friend from college I hadn’t seen or spoken to in years. I had no idea where she got it. “Everyone, look! This is the woman who destroyed my family! My husband is divorcing me because of her!” she shrieked, collapsing into a heap on the floor, wailing and tearing at her hair. The office descended into chaos. I was trapped, unable to defend myself against the baseless accusations. I knew, with a sickening certainty, that this was Frank’s handiwork. He was trying to ruin my reputation, to leave me with nowhere to turn. My supervisor called me into her office. Her face was grim. “Clara, while I want to believe you, the company has to consider its image… Why don’t you take a few days off to sort things out.” It was their polite way of firing me. My phone rang. It was Frank. “How does it feel?” he asked, a smug smile in his voice. “I told you you’d regret this, Clara.” “You’re a despicable bastard, Frank.” “Despicable? I learned from the best,” he chuckled. “I’m giving you one last chance. Come back, beg me, and I might consider forgiving you.” “In your dreams.” I hung up. I would not beg him. Never. I walked in the rain for what felt like hours, until I was soaked to the bone. When I finally made it back to my apartment building, a cloying cloud of perfume assaulted me in the hallway. Mia was standing at my door, leaning against the frame as if she owned the place, a contemptuous smirk on her face. “What do you want?” I asked coldly. “Just came to see you,” she purred. “To see just how miserable you are now that the professor has thrown you away.” Her eyes raked over my drenched, pathetic state, and she laughed. “Tsk, tsk. So pitiful. You lost your job too, didn’t you? The professor said he’s going to make it impossible for you to survive in this city. He said you’ll come crawling back to him on your knees.” “He can wait forever.” I pushed past her and unlocked my door. “Still acting tough, are we?” Mia followed me inside. She walked over to the small table where I’d placed my mother’s portrait and picked it up. “You know, if your mother knew what a stubborn little fool you’re being, do you think she’d jump right out of her coffin?” “Take your hands off that,” my voice trembled. “What? Getting angry?” Mia tossed the frame lightly in her hand. “Oops. What if I… accidentally… dropped it?” “I said take your hands off it!” I lunged at her, trying to snatch the picture back. Mia let out a little shriek and deliberately let go. The frame hit the floor, and the glass shattered into a thousand pieces. My mother’s smiling face, fractured by a spiderweb of cracks. Something inside me snapped. 4 I don’t know where the strength came from. I grabbed Mia by the hair and slammed her to the ground. She screamed, clawing at me, her nails digging bloody tracks into my arms. I didn’t feel a thing. All I knew was that she had crossed a line. She had desecrated the memory of my mother. I was like a wild animal, ripping at her hair, slapping her face over and over. “I told you not to touch it! I told you!” Mia was dazed, her protests turning into terrified sobs. “You’re crazy! You’re a psycho! Frank! Help me!” The door was suddenly thrown open with a crash. Frank stormed in. His face turned white when he saw the scene. “Clara! Stop it!” He rushed over and shoved me away. I stumbled back, my back hitting the wall with a painful thud. Frank helped the hysterical Mia to her feet. When he saw the red welts on her face and her disheveled hair, his eyes turned murderous. “Clara, you’ve really lost your mind!” He advanced on me, his face twisted with a ferocity I had never seen before. “You dare touch her?” Seeing him shielding Mia like that, I started to laugh. A hollow, broken sound. “Frank,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “She broke my mother’s portrait.” Frank paused. He glanced at the shattered frame on the floor, then back at the weeping Mia. Mia immediately started defending herself. “I didn’t mean to! She just charged at me and I lost my grip!” Frank’s brow furrowed. He didn’t pursue the matter of the frame. Instead, he turned his cold gaze back to me. “Even so, you have no right to attack her. Apologize.” Apologize? He wanted me to apologize to the woman who had insulted my dead mother? “I said, apologize,” Frank repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And if I don’t?” I stared right back at him. “Then I’ll have to find another way to make you.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed a number. “Hello, Captain Miller? I have a situation here… Yes, at a friend’s apartment. I’ve discovered some… illicit substances.” He was going to frame me. “Frank, you’re shameless!” “You forced my hand,” he said, ending the call. He looked at me, his eyes cold and hard. “The police will be here any minute, Clara. When they find the drugs, red-handed, what do you think will happen to you?” Mia had stopped crying. She was now looking at me with a triumphant smirk. “You can’t win against the professor, Clara. If you get on your knees right now and beg him, maybe, just maybe, he’ll have a change of heart and let you off the hook.” A chill washed over me. I looked at Frank’s familiar face, now a complete stranger to me. This was the man I had loved for three years. For another woman, for his sick and twisted games, he was willing to personally shove me into hell. Faintly, from outside, I could hear the sound of sirens approaching. A victorious smile touched Frank’s lips. “Time’s running out, Clara. What’s it going to be?”

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