Category: English

1 My wife, who always hated carrying a key, had the smart lock on our front door replaced with an old-fashioned deadbolt. She even started locking the bathroom door when she showered. Now, I have to call her every time I come home, just so she’ll let me in. I couldn’t live with that kind of humiliation. At the next family dinner, I slid a stack of divorce papers onto the table. Everyone thought I was just drunk and joking. Then my wife, Ruby, slapped me hard across the face, her eyes blazing. “Is it so hard to call first? You promised you’d respect me forever!” I looked at her, my face a cold mask, and let out a short, bitter laugh. “If I leave you for good, isn’t that the ultimate sign of respect?” … “Shut up!” “James, if I hadn’t gotten postpartum depression after our daughter was born, I wouldn’t be so insecure!” “This reason for divorce is insane! I won’t accept it!” Ruby jabbed a finger at my face, her eyes turning red. I didn’t even bother to look at her. I closed my briefcase with a snap. “Sign them. Don’t make me force you.” I grabbed my things and stood to leave. The entire family stared, caught between Ruby’s trembling form and my cold, resolute back. I could hear their whispers, wondering how the man who once put Ruby before everything else could suddenly demand a divorce over something so trivial. Ruby froze for a second, then reached out to grab me. Her father started to rise from his chair. But before I could take a step, Ruby’s psychiatrist, Dr. Collins, pushed me back down into my seat. “Mr. Vance, your wife is suffering from severe postpartum depression. She has extreme insecurity,” he said, his voice dripping with condescension. “She only locks the door to feel safe! How can you, her husband, be so callous?” “It’s your constant antagonism that’s making her condition worse!” My in-laws immediately sided with him. “Dr. Collins is right!” “He’s just in a bad mood and taking it out on his wife!” “For a man who married into this family, he’s got a hell of an attitude. If it wasn’t for Ruby loving him, he’d be nothing today!” Ruby shot them a look that silenced them, then turned her gaze to me, her voice softening into a fragile, pleading tone. “Honey, I’m so sorry.” “I know my illness has been hard on you. You never used to raise your voice at me. For the sake of the ten years we’ve loved each other, please, just calm down.” “Is it your mother’s medical bills again? Don’t be afraid to ask. Your mom is my family, too.” Watching Ruby humble herself to coax me, the relatives clucked in admiration, but their glares at me grew sharper. “James, for a woman as sick as Ruby to treat you this well… you should be grateful,” one of them said. “Have we ever not taken care of your mother’s needs? Just tell us how much you need. We’ll figure it out,” Ruby’s father added, leaning on his cane. I knew what they were thinking. That I was too proud to ask the Ashwood family for more money, so I was resorting to this ridiculous drama. I met Ruby’s eyes as she reached for my hand. I pulled away. “The feeling is gone,” I said, my voice flat. “Let’s end this.” A dead silence fell over the room. Ruby threw her arms around me, her voice breaking into a sob. “James, don’t lie to me…” I pushed her off, taking two steps back. “It’s the truth.” “Let’s stop here. Try to keep some dignity.” Ruby stood there, stunned. In the corner, our daughter started wailing from her stroller. Ignoring everyone, I turned to leave again. CRASH. A water glass shattered on the floor in front of me. Dr. Collins had thrown it. He lunged forward, slamming the divorce papers against my chest, his finger pointing at my face as he spat, “James, are you even a man?” “Ruby gave up a scholarship to study abroad to marry you! She loves you so much! Is this how you repay her?” “Now that she’s sick, you’re just going to abandon her and your daughter?” “You ungrateful bastard!” I looked at the psychiatrist, who was practically vibrating with rage, and found it all amusing. “Dr. Collins, this is a matter between my wife and me. It has nothing to do with you, does it?” Spittle flew from his lips as he grabbed my collar. “She is still your wife!” “You have no idea how good you have it! Do you have any clue how much of the Ashwoods’ money you’ve burned through for that dying mother of yours?” “If Ruby hadn’t taken pity on you, if she didn’t love you, your mother would have been dead and buried years ago, you worthless bum!” I kicked him hard in the stomach, sending him stumbling backward. “Get lost. A family dinner is no place for a shrink to play hero.” Ruby shoved me aside and scrambled to help Dr. Collins. “James, why are you taking it out on him? He’s innocent!” “He’s a piece of trash who needs to learn to watch his mouth!” I snarled, glancing at the two of them on the floor, their dynamic making my resolve even harder. The chorus of insults from the relatives grew louder, a wave of condemnation washing over me, erasing ten years of my life and my dedication. They called me a leech, saying Ruby had suffered endlessly by marrying me. Dr. Collins patted Ruby’s hand. “It’s okay, Ruby. It’s my fault.” “As an outsider, I shouldn’t have judged Mr. Vance. Don’t get upset, you’ll make yourself sick.” He shook his head, his voice full of feigned regret. “How could it be your fault?” Ruby’s eyes were overflowing with sympathy for him. She looked up at me, her voice choked with tears. “Honey, do you really want to humiliate everyone like this?” “You know I love you. All our family is here today. Can’t you just give me this one thing? Let’s go home and talk.” Her tears fell, splashing onto Dr. Collins’s chest. I almost laughed. She only cried harder. The relatives rushed to comfort her, her performance painting me as the villain of the century. “James, you’ve taken good care of Ruby all these years.” “I’ve seen your hard work and how you care for your mother.” “Just be honest with us. What really happened? If it’s our family’s fault, we won’t deny it.” Ruby’s father limped over, trying to reason with me. But I wasn’t having it. My face was granite. “This marriage is over.” Her father choked, his face turning beet red. Ruby scrambled up from the floor and grabbed my arm, begging, “Honey, please don’t go.” When I didn’t move, she screamed, “You must be cheating on me!” I just looked at her, saying nothing. The sharp rap of a cane hit the floor. Her father’s voice was a low growl. “James Vance!” “Everything you have, every piece of clothing on your back, came from this family! And you still have a sick mother to support!” “You can either be a good husband, or you can leave with nothing but the clothes on your back. The choice is yours.” “I suggest you think very carefully. You have two days.” It was supposed to be a terrifying threat. The faces around me were hungry for my surrender. I ripped my arm from Ruby’s grasp. And walked out the door. As soon as I got in my car, a file was handed to me from the passenger seat. “This report should be more than enough.” My childhood friend, Maya, tilted her head toward the conclusive results. “Thanks for your hard work.” “And don’t forget,” I added, “the big gift we have for Ruby tomorrow.” I let out a long breath and opened the video Maya had just sent me. Every day, just before I was scheduled to get home from work, a figure would slip out of my front door. Then, as a final act of defiance, he’d taunt the security camera, dangling a different pair of lace panties each time. Two days was too long. I wanted to send them all to hell as fast as possible. When I went to pay for dinner, the server informed me my card had been declined. For years, the Ashwoods had controlled every cent I spent. They claimed it was to stop me from making risky investments, but really, it was to ensure the man who married their daughter never gained any real power. Ruby was the one who transferred money to my account each month. If she was in a good mood, I got a little extra. If she wasn’t, I got nothing. Since she changed the locks, the account had been empty. The next morning, I drove back to the house to pack my things. Before I even entered the gated community, a group of neighborhood women started pointing at me. “Isn’t that the Ashwoods’ son-in-law?” “I heard he found a richer mistress and is abandoning his wife and baby! What a white-trash freeloader!” “And that poor Ruby! She’s been sick ever since the baby was born, and now she has to deal with this! It’s a disgrace!” They spat sunflower seed shells in my direction, their voices sharp and loud enough for the whole street to hear. I started to turn, to defend myself. “Honey~” A Porsche pulled up beside me, and Ruby’s sweet voice drifted from inside. “I knew you’d be back. I just bought you a new tie. Come home and see it.” My face was a blank mask as I got into the back seat. I glanced at the designer label on the tie box and tossed it out the window. Ruby’s mouth opened, but no words came out. “Hey! That must have cost a fortune!” “He just threw it away?” The women outside scrambled toward the car to grab it. “Drive,” I said, nodding toward the underground garage. She suppressed her anger and followed me to our front door. When she opened it, Dr. Collins was in the living room, gently rocking our daughter’s cradle. Ruby’s eyes widened in shock. She struggled to compose herself, her voice stuttering. “Dr. Collins… was scheduled to… come by… for my therapy session.” I ignored them and walked straight to the bedroom. I was only here for one thing: the family heirloom bracelet my mother had asked me to give to my wife. Ruby no longer deserved it. Before I could step inside, Dr. Collins pushed the cradle in front of me, blocking my path with a self-satisfied smile. “James. It’s good that you came home.” “A child so young needs her father.” “Come and see your daughter.” He tried to pull me toward the cradle. I shook him off. He grabbed me again. My patience snapped. I shoved him away, my voice filled with disgust. “Get lost.” I went into the bedroom, opened the nightstand drawer, and took out the bracelet box. Dr. Collins followed me, lunging for the box, but I was too quick for him. “This belongs to my family. You think you’re worthy of touching it?” I pushed him hard. He stumbled back. Suddenly, the room was filled with a loud crash and the sound of a baby screaming. Dr. Collins was on the floor next to the overturned cradle. Ruby ran in, saw the scene, and immediately started screaming at me. “James! If anything happens to my daughter, I will destroy you!” She snatched up the baby, frantically checking her for injuries. “Ruby, it was all my fault,” Dr. Collins whimpered from the floor. “I just thought the baby missed her daddy, but James didn’t care at all… he just pushed us away.” While I was distracted, Ruby lunged, ripped the jewelry box from my hand, and slammed it on the floor with all her might, her eyes bloodshot. “For this piece of junk! You’d hurt your own flesh and blood?” My mind went blank, focused only on the bracelet. Thankfully, the box was sturdy. The heirloom was unharmed. Dr. Collins yelled from behind me, “You’re a monster! Your daughter gets hurt and all you care about is a stupid bracelet? Is it more important than her life?” Ruby righted the cradle, her eyes swimming with tears as she stared at me. “James, you better pray that she’s okay!” “Take your trash and get out of my house!” “And never come back!” “After the court hearing tomorrow, not only will you leave with nothing, but I’ll make sure you lose everything and everyone you care about!” “Get out!” she shrieked like a madwoman, throwing whatever she could grab. I just protected the box and walked out of that toxic hellhole. I wasn’t even out of the neighborhood when Maya called, telling me to check the trending topics online. A tidal wave of hate crashed over me. I was a money-grubbing scumbag. A leech who could only survive by clinging to rich women. A misogynist who valued a non-existent male heir over his own daughter. Countless accusations were piled on me, illustrated with AI-generated images that made them look horrifyingly real. “Scrub everything about my mother. For the rest of it, file lawsuits,” I told Maya and hung up, letting the storm rage. After lunch, I announced I would be holding a livestream that afternoon. Ruby called me over a hundred times. I didn’t answer. Finally, she showed up outside Maya’s apartment building with a banner and a bullhorn. The noise was deafening. “James, the entire internet hates you right now!” “Going live won’t help! If you just apologize and come to your senses, I’m willing to give you another chance!” I watched her from behind the floor-to-ceiling window, my face impassive. Dr. Collins took the bullhorn. “Ruby is willing to forgive you! Why are you making this so hard on yourself? This livestream will only make things worse!” “Just admit you’re wrong, and your mother might still have a chance!” Ruby’s father was there too, sitting under a patio umbrella. His voice was a low rumble. “James, don’t be so impulsive.” “What man in his right mind divorces his wife because she changed the locks on the door?” Their words were supposed to sound like advice, but they felt like threats. I watched the second hand on the clock complete its final sweep. The livestream started. As expected, the comments were a waterfall of insults. Not to be outdone, Ruby started her own stream using her company’s account and requested to join mine. The screen split in two. “James, since you refuse to see reason, don’t blame me for what comes next.” On her side of the screen, she displayed my credit card statements from exclusive private clubs and a series of sordid, fabricated chat logs. 【Wow, he really is trash! So dirty!】 【Poor Ruby! I support the divorce!!】 【I’m a lawyer, and I can tell you this scumbag is leaving with NOTHING!】 “So, what do you think? Let’s let the public be the judge today!” Ruby said, smugly fanning herself behind a pair of oversized sunglasses. I gave a cold, humorless laugh, turned up the A/C, and said calmly, “Eight hundred and ninety-one.” At that, Ruby froze. She quickly resumed fanning herself, faster this time. “Don’t start quoting legal statutes. You don’t know any.” “Is it a legal statute, Ruby?” Beside me, Maya couldn’t hold back a snort of laughter. It was time to unwrap the gift.

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That was the last time I ever brought up the subject of our engagement with Rhys Kingston. The room went silent. Then, a collective snicker turned into a roar of laughter when they caught the look of sheer annoyance on Rhys’s face. “Seriously, a childhood promise? What is this, a Jane Austen novel?” “Our Princess Anya is finally feeling the heat, huh? Thought that old family pact kept you safe?” I ignored the crass, drunken mockery. My eyes were fixed on Rhys, who was draped in a velvet armchair. His shirt collar was undone, and I could just make out faint, tell-tale marks—hickeys—on the skin above his collarbone. My heart seized, a sharp, almost surgical kind of pain. The full, brutal realization of what those marks meant hit me a second later than the sting. “We were naive children, Anya. That kind of ridiculous arrangement only makes sense when you’re twelve.” Rhys met my gaze, a lazy, utterly dismissive look. His lips curled in subtle mockery. “We’re not kids anymore, Anya Wells. Let’s be adults and call this whole childhood thing what it is: over.” 1 I stared at him, my mind scrambling for a response. The door to the private penthouse lounge swung open. Holly Quinn came in, wearing the black uniform of the catering staff, holding a tray of champagne flutes. She flinched visibly when she saw me, her voice dropping to a near-inaudible whisper. “Ethan’s sister… I mean, Miss Wells.” Then, quick as a flash, she darted a tearful glance at Rhys. “I—I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize I was interrupting something.” Holly’s voice trembled as she rushed to set the tray down and leave. Rhys’s composure broke. He suddenly kicked out, flipping the heavy mahogany coffee table in front of him. Glasses shattered, and the sound of cracking crystal echoed through the sudden silence. Shards of glass flew. A piece grazed my arm—a sharp, immediate stinging—and I watched the blood bead up, slowly spilling onto my white dress. Rhys didn’t even glance my way. His face was thunderous as he strode toward Holly. He roughly grabbed the frilly apron tied around her waist and yanked it off. “Holly, did I not make myself clear? You are not to be working here or anywhere.” She nodded immediately, obediently, but then her eyes welled up. “I just… I don’t want to keep leaning on you, Rhys. You and Ethan have done too much already. I can earn my own living…” “But it makes me sick to see you in this,” Rhys growled, tossing the apron aside. “You’re coming home with me now. And if I ever see you trying to work again, I swear I will personally shut down the place.” He spun around, his gaze finally snapping back to me. “And anyone—anyone at all—who tries to use their connections to make your life difficult, they’re going to pay. No history, no relationship, will matter to me.” I pressed my hand to my bleeding arm. The room was chaos, but I held his gaze, my face a mask of cold neutrality. This penthouse lounge is part of the Wells Group portfolio. Rhys thought I had pulled strings, using my family’s power to make a point, to make her suffer. The ridiculous, painful thing was that Holly was already living like a pampered princess, showered in my brother’s and Rhys’s money. She had no need to “work her way through life.” But I knew that even if I presented the club manager as a witness, Rhys wouldn’t believe a word of it. In his mind, I was the malicious antagonist, the entitled heiress using her power to crush the fragile, innocent heroine. “Anya Wells,” Rhys said, his voice flat with finality. He pulled Holly securely into his side. “You’re too much, Anya. Too demanding. Too dramatic.” He tightened his grip on her shoulder. “The engagement is off, officially. You can stop grasping at that childhood agreement now.” The room went silent again. Holly’s face went white, and she trembled, shrinking further into Rhys’s embrace. My so-called friends looked at me with a mix of disgust and pity. A strange feeling, almost like relief, washed over me. I remembered the months of hysterical arguments and the tears I’d shed, all because my entitled, spoiled existence couldn’t handle sharing the unconditional affection that had once been solely mine. I reacted, I threw tantrums, I cried. All I managed was to cement their loyalty to her. Now, I was simply tired. Exhausted, down to the bone. “Fine,” I heard myself say. It was a single, utterly calm word. I took a slow step forward. Rhys instantly moved to shield Holly further. “Anya Wells, you want to start something, start it with me.” I lowered my injured hand and spread my fingers. The white skin of my palm was a mess of spreading crimson. Rhys’s eyes flickered, the anger in them softening a fraction, a brief moment of human doubt. But then Holly pulled away from him. “Anya, please don’t be angry with Rhys. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have come here. I shouldn’t have intruded…” Her tears began to fall perfectly on cue, running down her porcelain cheeks. “I’ll leave right now.” “Holly, I told you. I have you,” Rhys whispered, immediately stroking her cheek and wiping her tears away. Any brief moment of wavering was gone, replaced by a fierce protectiveness—and unconcealed revulsion directed at me. “Anya, why do you have to be so manipulative—” I cut him off. “Ending the engagement is fine. But I want my things back.” Rhys looked confused. “What things?” I reached behind my neck and unclipped the scarlet cord. Hanging from it was a small, plain silver locket—the heirloom his mother had given me when the pact was made. My mother had given him a heavy, much more valuable signet ring, a family heirloom blessed by some high-ranking archbishop in the past. “The locket for the scarlet wristlet,” I stated, referring to the ornate silver cuff he’d received. Rhys’s face hardened. He knew how much that locket meant to me. I hadn’t taken it off since I was fifteen. “You think everyone is as obsessively sentimental as you are, clinging to sentimental trash?” Rhys scoffed, snatching the locket from my hand. He held my scarlet wristlet, the piece that had been mine since childhood, and sneered. “What a pathetic thing. Carrying it around like some lovesick puppy.” He gave me one last cold look. “I’ll find your wristlet and have it delivered to your house. We’ll be done.” * * * Ethan was waiting for me in the living room when I got home. “Anya, listen, there’s something I need to tell you.” He handed me a thick folder of documents. “I’m planning to sign over the title of the Commerce Building to Holly so she can manage the leases and have an income stream.” I looked at the documents. That building was part of Mom’s estate—a massive asset she brought into the Wells family from her side. I snatched the stack of papers and tore them, cleanly and deliberately, right down the middle. “Anya! What is the meaning of this?” Ethan pushed his glasses up, looking severely disappointed. “I covered for you when you shoved Holly down the stairs last month. You owe her this, if not more.” He lowered his voice. “Did you forget Mom’s final request?” Ethan fell silent. On her deathbed, Mom had made him swear to protect me, to look after me, and to never let anyone steal what was mine. “I didn’t forget,” he said slowly. “But Anya, she’s my sister now too. Is it really too much to ask for me to split my affection? To share the love I have for you with her?” He sighed, a patronizing sound. “You’re being stubborn and spoiled. Why can’t you be more like Holly?” The urge to laugh died in my throat, replaced by a sudden, choking well of tears. “Ethan Wells,” I said, my voice dangerously soft. “Mom’s legacy. Nobody takes it.” I dropped the shredded papers into the bin. “You want to give Holly a gift? Give her one of Dad’s properties.” “What good things has the Wells family ever had?” he muttered, instantly recoiling. I had the answer already: From people to property, nothing good remained. I turned and headed for the stairs. “Mom’s death anniversary is next week. Don’t forget.” “How could I forget?” Ethan gave a weak, shifty smile. “You go rest. I’m heading to the study to catch up on some work.” I didn’t reply, nor did I look back. I didn’t sleep that night. I walked through the house, collecting every single item that held a memory of the three of us—Ethan, Rhys, and me. The photos I burned in the fireplace. Anything that could be smashed, I smashed. Whatever was salvageable—expensive clothes, jewelry, books—went into boxes destined for a local charity. Only the house remained—the small villa that was the only place Mom had ever felt happy in. I sat out on the balcony, holding Mom’s framed photograph, and cried until I finally drifted off to sleep. The day after my birthday was Mom’s anniversary. She had held on just long enough for me to celebrate one last time. For eight years since, Rhys had never failed to spend the entire day with me, making sure I got through it. This was the first time he’d bail. It didn’t matter. But while Rhys was absent, Holly’s influence was not. Her Instagram feed was a continuous stream of celebration all night, which my frenemy, Chelsea, helpfully live-streamed to me. “Couldn’t think of a reason for a party, so Rhys suggested we celebrate my new tablet! Just kidding—it’s really just an excuse for cake and champange! Look at my new tiara!” I quit Instagram, flipped my phone face-down on the nightstand, closed my eyes, and made a wish over the flickering candle. “Mom, please bless me with a clean break. Mom, please help me finally be free of these rotten people.” On Mom’s anniversary, I waited. Dad sent flowers and a few expensive items for the memorial. Ethan never showed. I called three times. No answer. The fourth call was answered by Brenda Quinn, Holly’s mother. “Anya, honey, is that you? Are you looking for Ethan?” “Today is my mother’s death anniversary.” “Oh, your mother’s anniversary? Bless her heart. You know, our little terrier just had a litter of puppies this morning, and Ethan and Holly have been so utterly distracted. They completely lost track of time.” She spoke with faux pity. “It’s probably too late to head over now, don’t you think?” “Auntie, who is it?” Holly’s sweet, muffled voice in the background. “It’s Anya. She sounds upset. What should I tell her, Ethan?” Ethan’s voice came on the line. “Anya, hello?” I hung up the phone and blocked his number immediately. Mom’s photo smiled back at me from the granite tombstone. It was a beautiful spring day, but kneeling there, I felt like I’d fallen into a cold, bottomless void. I hugged the stone marker and kissed the smooth surface. It’s okay, Mom. At least I’ll never forget. * * * I returned from the lawyer’s office to the house, only to find Rhys, Ethan, and Holly standing by the door. Holly was flanked by both of them, clutching a massive bouquet. Ethan spoke first. “Anya, look! Holly’s design just won the International Young Designers Award. I’m so proud of her.” “I was only trying to follow in Anya’s footsteps,” Holly said, a perfect picture of demure humility. Rhys took the portfolio and gave a dismissive laugh. “Follow her? Anya had the best tutors money could buy and never made it past the preliminary round. This takes real talent, baby. Don’t downplay it.” I ignored them and reached for the design pages. My breath caught. Sheet after sheet, the sketches were almost identical to my abandoned portfolio. Holly had stolen my work. “You stole my designs! Holly, you’re despicable!” I was trembling with fury, and my hand instinctively shot out to strike her. Rhys’s grip clamped down hard on my wrist, stopping me mid-air. He shoved me backward with a violent force that sent me sprawling onto the ground. “Anya Wells, your spoiled tantrums have gone too far.” He stood over me, livid. “Holly won that award fair and square. Where is your proof? If you can’t produce it, you’re making a slanderous accusation.” “I would never steal your work, Anya,” Holly cried, tears already streaming. “You hate me so much—I’ve never been near your computer!” She collapsed into Rhys’s arms. I looked desperately at Ethan. My computer had been in his study. Only he had access. Ethan immediately broke eye contact. I didn’t need any more answers. “Anya Wells, look at yourself.” Rhys looked down, radiating contempt. He threw the scarlet wristlet onto the ground near my hand. “I truly don’t know what I ever saw in you.” I looked up, ready to meet his mockery, but my eyes locked onto the delicate diamond tulip pendant around Holly’s neck—the necklace my mother had left to me. “Ethan! How could you give her Mom’s necklace?” I pointed at Holly, my vision swimming red. Ethan pressed his lips together, shifting nervously. “Anya…” Holly immediately reached for the clasp, tears falling faster. “Anya, I didn’t know this was your mother’s. I’ll take it off right away.” Ethan, instantly heartbroken by her distress, grabbed her hand. “Don’t, Holly. It’s my gift to you.” He turned back to me. “It’s just jewelry, Anya. A trinket. Holly loves it, and she deserves something nice. I’ll buy you a better one.” “I’d rather throw this thing into the ocean than let the daughter of the woman who destroyed Mom’s life wear it!” I screamed, the sound tearing from my throat. Ethan’s face flushed with shame. “Anya, stop with the hostility! That’s between the adults! What does any of that have to do with Holly?” Holly was sobbing hysterically, burying her face in Rhys’s chest. Rhys was incandescent. “Anya Wells, enough is enough!” He yanked the necklace off Holly’s neck and threw it at the ground with force. “Here! Take your damn trinket! Let’s go, Holly. I’ll buy you a piece ten times better and ten times more expensive right now.” Ethan sighed, then looked at me with pity. “Anya, why do you have to be so difficult? Why can’t you be a little kinder? Holly is going through so much.” He lowered his voice. “She needs this win to establish herself in the design world. It’s her first step toward having a real life here… and to eventually be accepted by the Kingston family.” He reached out to help me up. “Anya, please…” “Get your hand off me,” I hissed, pushing his arm away. I looked at him, and then I smiled—a cold, genuine smile. “Brother,” I said. It was the last time I would ever use that title. “You will get what you deserve.” Ethan frowned, unwilling to meet my eyes. “Anya, I promise, I’ll fix this. I’ll make it up to you.” He rushed to catch up with Rhys and Holly, his back turning on me. I sank down, picked up the diamond tulip, and clutched it to my chest. I didn’t cry. I couldn’t. It was the strange, numb calm that comes when human pain finally exceeds the capacity for tears. The sun finally sank below the horizon, painting the sky in a bloody, dramatic wash of orange and red. The weather forecast had warned about high temperatures and dry air. Late that night, I began to feed the thick stack of yellowed letters into the fireplace, followed by the photos. Rhys and Ethan and me, their faces all bright, beautiful, and happy. The smiles disappeared into the smoke, turning into nothing but fine gray dust. My eyes were hot from the flames. I leaned close, catching a glimpse of the old handwriting. Ethan wrote: “I will always love my little sister and protect her. Anya will be my princess forever.” Rhys wrote: “I’m going to marry Anya when we grow up, and we’ll have two kids—a boy and a girl.” They had meant every word. They had both sworn that I mattered more than their own lives. But the promises, like the faded ink on the page, always drift away on the wind. The heat scorched my fingertips, and I dropped the last piece. It drifted down onto a forgotten silk garment bag. The small flames caught, licking up the side of the curtains and then onto an old storage trunk. Thick smoke began to pour out of the window. Rhys’s number flashed on my phone. I didn’t answer. Ethan called next. I hung up. As I was about to block them both, a text from Rhys came through. “Anya, look, Holly is still your sister. I wish you could just be happy for her. She really hoped you’d call. I’m going to buy you that set of diamond studs you liked tomorrow. Don’t be difficult.” Ethan’s text followed immediately. “Anya, I’ll pay for a custom replica of Mom’s necklace. I’ll make it up to you. Can you just forgive me?” I wanted to laugh, and finally, the tears came—choked, silent, and bitter. My reply to Rhys: “I hope she gets disqualified, and I hope you both burn for what you did to my mother.” My reply to Ethan: “Go ask Mom for forgiveness. Oh, wait. You can’t.” I blocked and deleted their numbers. I dragged my single suitcase out, taking one last look at the house saturated with memories, and walked away without looking back. Soon after I left, a draft caught the candle I’d left burning by the fireplace. The small flicker became a hungry lick of fire. The dry air and the old wooden structure devoured the flame. The home, the archive of our life, was a ruin.

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Five thirty PM. I was just packing up to leave when a message from my colleague, Karen, popped up on my screen. It was a document, followed by a pleading emoji. Then, the text: “Kathy, I have to run and pick up my son from school. Could you just finish this little bit for me?” I glanced at the progress bar on the document she’d sent. My brow furrowed. “Karen, this is a lot more than a ‘little bit.’ I have plans tonight.” I thought that would be the end of it. I was wrong. She appeared at my desk, her voice sharp and laced with a grating, matter-of-fact entitlement. “Kathy Kim, are your plans more important than me picking up my child? Besides, it’s not like you have kids. You’re just going home to an empty house. Just stay and do a little overtime for me.” 1. Karen’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was pitched to carry across the entire open-plan office. The room fell silent. A few pairs of eyes, glinting with schadenfreude, landed on me. My fingers tightened on the mouse until my knuckles were white. “Karen, this is your work.” Her volume shot up instantly, her face a mask of disbelief as if I had committed an unforgivable sin. “Why are you being so selfish? This is for my child! For the next generation! What’s the big deal with helping out? Have you no compassion?” Another mother from a nearby desk immediately chimed in, her words dripping with passive aggression. “Yeah, Kathy. Karen’s son, Cody, is so adorable. It’s not easy being a mom.” A third colleague covered her mouth, whispering in a stagey, sympathetic tone, “People without children probably can’t understand that feeling. They can be so cold-hearted.” Every word was a needle, pricking at me from all sides. I took a deep breath and shut down my computer. “I told you. I have plans.” I grabbed my bag and, under Karen’s stunned gaze, clocked out right on time. As I stepped out of the building, the evening breeze on my face did little to clear the knot of frustration in my chest. A black sedan was parked by the curb. The window rolled down, revealing Liam Carter’s face. “Get in.” I slid into the passenger seat, and he handed me a warm corn juice. “Getting guilt-tripped again?” I didn’t answer, just wrapped my hands around the warm cup. The car pulled smoothly into the evening traffic. “She’s dumped the quarterly data on you three times now,” Liam said, his voice flat. He was my father’s most trusted executive assistant, the man who had practically watched me grow up. “Her son’s birthday is this month,” I recited, leaning back and watching the city lights blur past the window. “Next week is a parent-teacher conference, and the week after that is a field trip.” “So she’ll always have another excuse,” Liam finished for me, glancing over. “What are you going to do?” “What can I do? When I can’t take it anymore, I’ll fight back.” I managed a tired smile. Liam didn’t press further. When I got home, I had just slipped off my shoes when my phone began to vibrate uncontrollably. It was the department group chat. Karen had posted a long, tear-jerking monologue. “It’s so sad how cold young people are these days. As a mother, all I did was ask for a little help with some finishing touches so I could pick up my son, and she just stormed off. When we were new, we did everything for our seniors—got them coffee, made copies, you name it. Now? There’s just no sense of team spirit.” A few replies popped up immediately. “Don’t be angry, Karen. Some people just have no sense of responsibility.” “She’s not a mom. She can’t understand your struggles.” “I’ll mention it to the manager for you tomorrow.” I stared at the screen, my face a blank mask. Liam walked over and gently took the phone from my hand. “Stop looking at that. She’s a buffoon.” “She’s not. She’s a mirror.” I looked up at him. “One that reflects a lot of people.” 2. The moment I stepped into the office the next morning, I knew something was wrong. My desk was buried under a mountain of files, far more than a day’s worth of work. Karen sauntered over, a smug smirk on her face and a coffee in her hand. “Kathy, darling. The manager noticed you left early yesterday, so you must have plenty of energy. He said you can handle all of this today.” The manager poked his head out of his office. “That’s right, Kathy. It’s a blessing for young people to work hard.” I ignored them, sat down, and turned on my computer. Then, I stood up. I gathered the tallest stack of files from my desk and walked, step by deliberate step, over to the large office trash can. With a thunderous crash, I dumped the entire stack inside. Paper scattered like snowflakes, a few sheets drifting to rest at the manager’s feet. The office fell dead silent. Karen’s coffee cup slipped, splashing hot liquid on her hand. She let out a sharp cry. “Kathy Kim! Are you insane? Those are important documents!” “Important documents?” I turned, my gaze pinning her in place. “If they were so important, why were they piled on my desk instead of being properly filed in the archives?” I advanced on her, the click of my heels on the linoleum floor sounding like a death knell. “In this pile, there were three sets of old data that should have been archived last month, five procedural forms from other departments, and two of your own personal expense reports. Am I wrong?” Karen’s face cycled through shades of red, white, and a sickly green. “You… You’re lying!” “Am I? We can just dig through the trash and find out.” My eyes swept over her, then landed on the terrified manager. “Or, we could call down someone from the Chairman’s office to help us assess the value of these ‘important documents’.” The manager’s face turned the color of liver. He shot Karen a venomous glare before forcing a smile that was uglier than a grimace. “A misunderstanding! It’s all a misunderstanding. Kathy, don’t get worked up. Karen was just joking with you.” He scurried over to the trash can, pathetically trying to salvage the papers. I didn’t stop him. “A joke?” I looked at him, the contempt in my eyes palpable. “Joking with company work? Is that your management style?” His hands froze mid-air. Beads of sweat popped out on his forehead. “I… of course that’s not what I meant.” “Then what did you mean?” I pressed, my voice low but every word a dagger. The other colleagues didn’t dare breathe, desperately trying to merge with their computer screens. The ones who had cheered Karen on in the group chat last night looked like they wanted to crawl inside their monitors and disappear. Karen stood frozen, her lips trembling, unable to utter a single word. Finally, the manager broke. “It’s my fault. My management was lacking. Kathy, please, calm down. I promise I will give you a proper resolution to this.” He yanked Karen into his office, and the door slammed shut with a resounding boom. I returned to my desk. The world was finally quiet. During my lunch break, a message from Liam came through. Heard you went on a rampage this morning. I replied: Just taking out the trash. A few minutes later, another message. Well done. But now they’ll just move their attacks from the open to the shadows. I stared at the screen and typed back. I’m waiting. 3. After being reprimanded, Karen kept a low profile for a few days. She stopped openly pushing her work onto me, but the whispers and gossip about me in the office multiplied. “She thinks she can challenge her seniors and the manager just because she’s young and pretty.” “I heard she has connections. How else could she be so arrogant?” “It’s always the ones who look innocent. They’re the most calculating.” I ignored it all. That afternoon, our department was given an urgent, high-stakes assignment: design the invitation for a major charity gala. The deadline was tight, and the manager put Karen in charge. The first thing she did was come to me. This time, her posture was different. She was humble, almost pleading. “Kathy, I know you’re the strongest designer we have. This invitation is incredibly important; it’s our whole department’s reputation on the line. Can you please help me?” She paused, then added the clincher. “I’m begging you. You know I have Cody to take care of. I just don’t have the energy for something this big.” I saw the glint in her eye and asked calmly, “Help you? Does that mean I lead, or you do?” “You lead, of course!” she said quickly. “I’ll be your assistant! And the credit will all be yours in the end!” I nodded. “Fine.” I took the project and dove in headfirst. This wasn’t just an invitation; it was a representation of the entire corporation’s image. I researched extensively, and inspired by the gala’s theme, “A River of Stars,” I developed a concept that blended a celestial night sky with silhouettes of ancient architecture. To achieve the perfect effect, I even asked Liam to connect me with a master artisan, a specialist in the traditional craft of silhouette cutting. He handcrafted the silhouette portion, which I then scanned for digital post-processing. For three straight days, I practically lived at the office. Karen, my supposed “assistant,” did nothing but leave on the dot every day to pick up her son. She’d occasionally pop by my desk to ask, “How’s it coming along?” before snapping a few pictures of me hard at work. She’d then post them in the department group chat with captions like, “Kathy is working so hard! Let’s all cheer her on!” On Friday, the final proof was ready. The exquisite, hollowed-out star map, paired with the elegant, classic silhouette, was breathtaking. The manager was effusive with his praise. “This is brilliant! Karen, you’ve really hit a home run this time!” Karen beamed. “Oh, it was nothing. I just had a good initial concept, and Kathy helped out a lot, of course.” I stood to the side, silent. Karen clutched the design proofs as if they were her newborn child. “Sir, I’ll take this over to the project lead at corporate headquarters myself. It’ll be a good chance to explain my design philosophy in person.” The manager nodded eagerly. “Excellent idea, excellent.” I watched her stride triumphantly out of the office, a cold smile playing on my lips. Liam was right. They had just moved their methods into the shadows. And I had already built the stage for their performance. I opened my laptop and sent an encrypted file to Liam. It contained every draft of my design from the past three days, my inspiration notes, the communication records with the silhouette artist, and, hidden in the bottom right corner of the final design, my initials—CV—encoded in Morse code. I sent him a message. Fish is on the hook. He replied instantly. The net is ready.

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After the college entrance exams, the most popular guy in school, Seth, decided to throw a qipao party to help everyone relax. When I saw the dangerously low necklines and thigh-high slits on the dresses, I tried to stop the entire class from going. My girlfriend, Sandra, just raised an eyebrow. “Jealous that Seth is hotter than you?” The whole class laughed and walked away. Only my childhood friend, Riley, listened to me. That night, everyone at the party was arrested for indecency. They were all detained. Riley looked at our classmates behind bars and shook her head. “Thank God you warned me. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have made it to college either.” After graduation, Sandra and Seth were released from prison. The first thing they did was get engaged. Riley, who had been waiting outside the prison gates with me, turned and plunged a knife into my stomach. Again and again. “Why did you stop me? Don’t you know how much I love him? If I had been there with him that night, if I had gone to prison with him, the person he’s marrying now wouldn’t be someone else!” Only then did I realize she had been in love with Seth all along. When I opened my eyes again, I gave Riley and Sandra a gentle push forward. “No problem. Go ahead.” 1 “Hayden, I’m throwing this qipao party for everyone’s sake. You think this is easy for me? Are you trying to slander me and say I have some ulterior motive with the girls?” I had just opened my eyes to find Seth, the most popular guy in school, with his arm draped over my girlfriend’s shoulder, looking at me with disdain. The other students nodded in agreement, especially the girls. “Yeah, Hayden. Qipaos are a cultural treasure. Are you just upset because Seth has better looks and a better body than you? Worried you won’t get any attention if you go?” “Hahaha, don’t worry, class president. We were never interested in you anyway. You could be naked and we still wouldn’t look twice.” My girlfriend, Sandra, let out an ill-timed chuckle. But this time, I didn’t look at her. I turned to my silent childhood friend, Riley, who stood beside me. In my past life, everyone thought I was just jealous of Seth. Even my girlfriend teased me about it. Only Riley, after my desperate pleading, stayed behind. Later, she even went to the same university as me, and we were in the same research group until we finished our master’s degrees. I thought she was the only one who saw clearly. But I never imagined that all those years of studying, she was just waiting for Seth to get out of prison. Her love for him was so perfectly hidden that even I, her closest friend, never noticed. “I get it,” I said, nodding. I grabbed my backpack and took a couple of steps back. “I’m going home.” “Hayden.” Riley suddenly grabbed my hand. I froze. Her gaze was complicated. “You should take your girlfriend with you.” In that instant, it felt like an electric current shot through me. Riley… she was reborn too? There was a hint of defensiveness in her eyes as she looked at Sandra. Of course. In our past life, she and Sandra were the two girls closest to Seth. If Sandra went to the party this time, Riley couldn’t be sure that Seth would still choose her in the end. “Mind your own business,” Sandra said, shooting me a disgusted look. “I haven’t had a chance to relax since I started studying for the exams. It’s just a qipao exhibit. Don’t be so dirty-minded.” “Did I say it was dirty?” I seized on the flaw in her logic. “I just said it wasn’t a good idea. Why would you assume I meant that? So you already know there’s something wrong with this party?” The girls’ and Seth’s expressions instantly turned cold. Sandra’s face stiffened. It was Riley who came to my defense. “Sandra, you’re Hayden’s girlfriend. A party like this isn’t really appropriate for someone who’s in a relationship.” Sandra was unfazed. “It’s just a party. Besides, if Hayden really can’t handle it, we can just break up for a day, right?” She shot me a challenging look. 2 I was always sensitive to her jokes. Every time she mentioned breaking up, I would force her to take it back. But now, I just smiled. “Sure.” And then I really did turn and walk away. Sandra’s smile froze on her face. Before she could say anything, Seth stopped me. “Alright, alright, don’t make it seem like I stole your girlfriend. Hey, you guys, bring the class president along.” A few guys came over and grabbed me by the arms. I struggled frantically. “I’m not going! Let me go!” “Come on, class president, stop playing hard to get. You were just waiting for us to invite you, weren’t you?” “You’ll see for yourself whether it’s a decent party or not when you get there.” Sandra and Riley tried to say something to Seth, but he just looked at them smugly. “If I don’t make you go, who knows what kind of rumors you’ll spread about me stealing your girlfriend. I can’t be bothered with people like you, but that doesn’t mean I’ll let you slander me.” Sandra and Riley hesitated, then slowly lowered their hands. “Alright, Hayden, you’ll see Seth’s good intentions once you’re there. Stop making a scene,” someone said. Others chimed in. “Yeah, and with you there to watch your girlfriend, I’m sure Sandra won’t do anything out of line.” “We broke up! I’m not going!” I thrashed, but Sandra just laughed. “It’s just for a day. Don’t be dramatic.” With that, everyone eagerly started heading toward Seth’s house. I struggled violently, but more students held me down, forcing me into the car. In desperation, I grabbed onto Riley’s clothes. “Riley! If we go, we won’t be able to come back! You know this isn’t just a qipao party! The police will come and we won’t even be able to apply for college!” “You’re being ridiculous again!” Riley frowned. My breath caught in my throat. Wait, wasn’t she reborn too? Why was she so calm about her fate? “I know what’s going to happen,” she whispered, her voice low enough for only the two of us to hear. “But Seth isn’t that kind of person. Someone must be trying to frame him. I have to find out who.” “No one is framing him! He’s doing this on purpose—mmph!” A rag was stuffed into my mouth. The arts committee member looked annoyed. “You’re interrupting the music. Be quiet!” My hands and feet were tied to the seat. I stared at Riley, hoping my eyes could convey my meaning. But she stood up and moved to a seat in front of me where she could see Seth, and she didn’t look back. When we arrived at Seth’s house and everyone saw the qipaos, they couldn’t help but gasp. 3 The dresses had impossibly low necklines and dangerously high slits. The boys’ eyes were practically popping out of their heads. The girls’ faces were flushed with a mix of excitement and embarrassment. Only Riley frowned. She hadn’t expected the photos she’d seen in her past life—the dresses that looked more like lingerie—to have actually been prepared by Seth. Seth locked the door and tossed the key to Riley. “Beautiful, right? I searched for a long time. There’s one for every girl! Who wants to go first?” The girls exchanged glances. One of them tentatively raised her hand. “Me!” That was all it took. Soon, other hands shot up. Many of the girls had crushes in the class and were eager to show off. I broke free from my restraints and grabbed Riley’s arm. “Do you see now?” She turned to look at me. I tried to convey the wrongness of it all with my eyes. “Give me the key. We can still leave. Before the police—” “He must have his reasons,” Riley said, pushing me away and tucking the key into her pocket. “If you’re not going to participate, then don’t slander him.” The incense burning in the room had a strange scent. I felt my heart start to race. I rushed forward and kicked over a dozen mannequins dressed in qipaos. “Can’t you smell that there’s something wrong with the incense? Someone is going to call the cops, and when they get here, none of us will be going to college!” Someone sniffed the air and seemed to notice something was off. But then Seth pulled back the curtain of the dressing room. A purple, high-slit, form-fitting qipao clung to Sandra’s curves. She leaned against the wall, perfectly showcasing her impressive figure. “Hayden, you’ll say anything to go after Seth, won’t you? He just wanted to throw a party to help everyone relax. Why can’t you just let it go?” The moment she appeared in that purple dress, the few boys who had seemed wary a moment ago were now staring, mesmerized. One of them turned on me, furious. “Will you just shut up? All you ever do is make malicious assumptions about Seth!” “You’re just jealous because he’s better looking than you! It’s a fact! Even your girlfriend thinks so!” The scent of the incense was making my vision blur. Looking at the girls’ figures made my face flush inexplicably. I couldn’t imagine what would happen if I stayed here any longer. I gritted my teeth, lunged for the door, and started kicking at the lock. Seth jumped back in alarm. A few of the guys dragged me away. Sandra stepped in front of Seth. “He’s lost his mind! Lock him in the storage room! Don’t let him ruin Seth’s party!” Seth subtly put his arm around Sandra’s shoulders and gave me a condescending smirk. Sandra stiffened. Seeing the desperation in my eyes, she gently pushed Seth’s hand away and touched my face. “Be good. Everyone is tired from the exams. It’s just an art exhibit. When it’s over, I’ll come get you myself.” “No!” I shook my head frantically, kicking and thrashing, but the boys, their eyes already glazed over, dragged me into the storage room and locked the door from the outside. “No! Let me out! You’re ruining your own lives!” I pounded on the door until my hands were raw. But the deafening music from outside drowned out my cries. Soon, I could hear other, unspeakable sounds from outside. The incense had taken effect, and along with the music, there were other, more disturbing rhythms. “What are you doing?!” A sudden shout cut through the music. I froze. The police? 4 “You sluts! What are you doing?!” By the time my parents got me out of there, the scene was beyond words. All the girls were in qipaos, entwined with different boys. My mom grabbed Seth by the hair. “You’re the one who organized this party and dragged my son here?” “I was wondering why he wasn’t home yet! So this is what you’re all doing!” My dad slapped Riley across the face. “You’re his childhood friend! Not only did you not stop him, you let him get locked up and didn’t even send us a message! What is wrong with you?” “I…” Riley was speechless. Her appearance at that moment was anything but respectable. She had thought she was above it all, that she could listen to Seth’s reasons for throwing the party. But when the incense filled her lungs and Seth wrapped his arms around her waist, she had completely given in. She let her clothes be torn to shreds and joined the orgy. My mom slapped Sandra too. “You’re Hayden’s girlfriend, and you’re fooling around with other guys like this? Have you no shame?” They both looked embarrassed, but seeing Seth being held by the hair, they instinctively pulled him behind them, protectively. “Uncle, Auntie, you’ve misunderstood. It’s not what you think.” “The police will find out what we think!” Just then, sirens wailed outside. The students scrambled to get dressed, but the police had already broken down the door, taking control of the scene. “Nobody move!”

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My mother, it seemed, was incapable of understanding human language. I had pulled an all-nighter preparing a project proposal, telling her I had a critical meeting in the morning. In response, she slipped sleeping pills into my milk and secretly turned off my phone. By the time I jolted awake, it was 10:30 AM. “A mother knows what’s best for her own daughter. I just wanted you to get some more sleep.” There was no time to argue. I frantically turned my phone on, only to be flooded with over a hundred missed calls and frantic texts from my boss and colleagues. Thankfully, the office wasn’t far. I grabbed my laptop bag and bolted downstairs, only to find the tires on my scooter were flat. My mom called down from the balcony. “You were complaining the other day about the tires being low. I tried to be helpful and add some air, but I must have forgotten to put the valve caps back on.” Again, no time to argue. I sprinted to the office, my lungs burning, and forced a smile as I opened my laptop. But the screen was dark. The whole machine was damp, water seeping from the seams. It wouldn’t turn on. I was fired. When I got home, my mother had the nerve to look hurt. “You said last night you needed to clean the dust out of your computer. I figured, it’s just dust, right? A little water should wash it right off. So I took it to the sink for you.” The rage and despair were so overwhelming that I fainted on the spot. When I woke up, a strange, one-eyed old man was grunting and thrusting on top of me. My mother stood by the bed. “You’re over thirty with no job. I was just trying to be helpful and find you a husband. Why are you so ungrateful?” I grabbed a knife, ready to kill her, to kill myself, to end it all. But my father, my brother, and the neighbors swarmed in, wrestling the knife from my hand. They called me a monster, an ungrateful brat who didn’t appreciate her mother’s love. In the chaos, someone wrenched the knife from my grasp and plunged it into my chest. I collapsed in a spreading pool of my own blood. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back on the night I was finishing the project proposal. The dense text of the proposal glowed on my screen. I pinched my arm, hard. A sharp jolt of pain shot through me, and tears of pure, unadulterated joy streamed down my face. I was really back! Back to the night that had completely destroyed my life! The horrors of my past life flashed before my eyes. This time, I wouldn’t be a passive victim. This time, all the people who called me an ungrateful brat would get a full, undiluted taste of my mother’s “kindness.” As I sat there, weeping silently at the screen, my mother walked in with a glass of milk. “Lily, sweetie, look at you. Working so hard your eyes are watering.” “It breaks my heart to see you like this. Come on, drink some warm milk and get some rest.” As she spoke, she reached for the power cord to my laptop. My fingers flew across the keyboard, hitting save. I snapped the laptop shut just before her hand reached the plug. “Can’t. There’s a problem with the data for the presentation. The boss just called, wants everyone back at the office to work on it overnight.” “I probably won’t be back tonight. I’ll just crash at the office.” I couldn’t stand to be in this house a second longer. I had to escape. But as I grabbed my jacket, my mother darted in front of me, blocking the door. “You’re my precious girl. You’ve already been working overtime for two weeks. I can’t let you go back there.” “Give me your phone. I’ll call your boss and tell him you’re not going. You’re staying home to sleep!” She lunged for my phone. It had been like this since my very first job. Anytime she disapproved of my work hours or duties, she’d snatch my phone and call my boss to complain. I’d been reprimanded, humiliated, and forced to switch jobs more times than I could count because of her. I cherished my current job, especially this project. If it went well, I wouldn’t just get a promotion and a raise; I could get transferred to the headquarters in New York. I could finally leave this family behind. The thought gave me strength. I clutched my phone to my chest and shoved her away. “Enough! I’m an adult, not a child!” “This is my job, my responsibility! You have no right to harass my boss!” I hadn’t pushed her hard, but she crumpled to the floor as if she had no bones. Just then, my father and brother emerged from their rooms. My mother immediately started wailing, wiping away crocodile tears. “Lily, I’m your mother! Would I ever do anything to hurt you? How could you treat me like this?” Before I could even get a word out, my father’s hand cracked across my face. “You heartless thing! Your mother treasures you more than her own eyes, and this is how you repay her!” My brother followed up with a sharp kick to my leg. “Ungrateful brat,” he snarled, before turning to help our mother to her feet. “Don’t blame Lily,” my mother sobbed, leaning on him. “It’s all my fault. I just worry about her too much.” She let out a long, theatrical sigh. “I know she thinks I’m just a useless old woman. She doesn’t listen to me anymore. She probably thinks I’m trying to ruin her life on purpose!” Watching her performance, I felt nothing but a dark, bitter amusement. I’d always worked so hard, but at every major turning point in my life, my mother was there, ready to sabotage me with her “good intentions.” For my high school entrance exams, she “helpfully” made me a huge seafood feast. I spent the next three days with violent food poisoning and missed my chance to get into the state’s top school. For my college entrance exams, she “helpfully” booked me a hotel on the opposite side of the city from the testing center, claiming it would be quieter. The morning of the exam, I was late because of traffic and missed my shot at my dream university. When I was job hunting, she “helpfully” edited my resume, inflating my qualifications and sending it out to dozens of companies. I was blacklisted by half the HR departments in the city for being a fraud. Every time I confronted her, she would dissolve into tears, apologizing profusely for her “good intentions” gone wrong. I used to believe her. Like my father and brother, I was brainwashed into thinking this suffocating interference was love. No matter how angry I got, I never truly fought back or tried to leave. But now, having been literally murdered by her “kindness,” I would not make the same mistake again. While my father and brother were busy comforting the matriarch of misery, I snatched my laptop and phone and bolted out the door. Downstairs, the tires on my scooter were still full. In my previous life, she must have snuck down to flatten them after I was unconscious. I heard the frantic thud of footsteps echoing in the stairwell above. Not wasting a second, I twisted the throttle and sped out of the complex, leaving the sounds of my family behind in the dust. At the office, I slipped the security guard a fifty, begging him not to let my family inside under any circumstances. But even with that precaution, my presentation was derailed. First, a colleague’s phone started buzzing incessantly. Then my boss’s. Finally, even the client’s phone began to ring nonstop. The client, a portly man with little patience, answered with a scowl. “Who is this? Why do you keep calling me?” My mother’s shrill voice erupted from the speakerphone. “I’m Lily’s mother! My daughter pulled an all-nighter for you heartless capitalists!” “I bet you vultures didn’t even let her eat breakfast! You tell her to come downstairs right now! I’m waiting outside with coffee and donuts!” The boardroom was dead silent. Everyone stared at me. I snatched the phone from the client’s hand. “If you ever interfere with my work again,” I hissed into the receiver, “you can consider yourself without a daughter.” I hung up and blocked her number before she could reply. Whether the threat worked or she had simply run out of numbers to call, the rest of the presentation went smoothly. The boss and the client loved my proposal. But when the meeting concluded, my boss still docked my pay by eight hundred dollars for “disrupting a client meeting.” He looked at me, his expression a mix of pity and frustration. “The project was a success, Lily. The transfer to the New York headquarters is practically a sure thing.” A jolt of joy went through me. It was the opportunity I had dreamed of—a new life, far away from this toxic mess. But then his tone shifted. “You have to get your family situation under control,” he said sternly. “I’m not really fining you. That eight hundred dollars is to shut up the people gunning for your position. But if your family keeps pulling stunts like this, it affects your work, and next time, I won’t be able to protect you.” I understood completely. I nodded, my jaw tight. “I understand, sir. I’ll take care of it.” Leaving the office, I took a deep breath. The successful project was my ticket out, but the thought of returning to that house felt like a lead weight in my stomach. The moment I stepped through the door, I was greeted by the sound of my mother’s theatrical sobbing in the living room. My brother sat beside her, rubbing her back. “Don’t cry, Mom. Lily’s just immature.” “She’s still young. Once she gets married and has kids of her own, she’ll understand all you do for her.” My father sat on the couch, chain-smoking, his face a thundercloud. Seeing me, he stubbed out his cigarette and shot to his feet, his voice booming. “So, you’re too important to answer your phone now? Your wings have really grown, haven’t they?” “Do you have any idea how many times your mother called? She was so worried she couldn’t eat or sleep!” My mother lifted her head, her eyes red and puffy. “Lily must be tired of me,” she whimpered. “I know, I just worry too much. I want to be involved in her life, but I guess I just…” She trailed off, dabbing at her eyes. My brother stood up, pointing a finger at me. “Lily, what are you waiting for? Apologize to Mom, right now! Look at the state you’ve put her in!” I looked at the three of them, a familiar sense of hopelessness washing over me. This was my family. They would always side with her, no matter what she did. The fault would always be mine. But I couldn’t fight them now. Not when my escape was so close. I just needed to get through the next few weeks until the transfer to New York was finalized. Then they would be nothing more than a bad memory. I bowed my head and delivered the lines they wanted to hear. “Mom, I’m sorry. I was wrong. I shouldn’t have ignored your calls. I promise it won’t happen again.” My mother’s sobs immediately subsided. “Lily, honey, I only do it because I love you. It’s a dangerous world for a girl all alone.” My brother snorted. “About time you learned your lesson.” My father sank back onto the couch, his expression softening slightly. “Alright, as long as she knows she was wrong. We’ll let it go this time. Don’t let it happen again.” I nodded meekly, and with that, the performance was over. They were satisfied. Back in my room, I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling. The next few days, I locked myself away, focusing entirely on preparing for the headquarters’ assessment and online interviews. This was my one shot to break free, and I couldn’t afford any mistakes. But my mother was relentless. Tap, tap, tap on my door. “Lily, sweetie, let me in to mop the floor. How can you prepare for an interview in such a messy room?” I refused. A few minutes later, tap, tap, tap again. “Lily, I made you some soup to help your brain. You must be exhausted from all that studying.” I opened the door, frowning. “Mom, I can’t be disturbed right now. Can’t this wait until after my interview?” Her eyes instantly welled up with tears. “Lily, I’m just trying to take care of you. I woke up at four this morning to make this soup for you. Look, I even burned my hand.” She thrust her hand in my face. A small red blister stood out against her skin. My father heard the commotion from the living room and stormed over. “Lily! Your mother works herself to the bone for you, and this is how you treat her? Apologize and drink the soup!” I looked at the soup, spotting the glistening sea cucumbers floating in the broth. A wave of exhaustion hit me. “I can’t eat this. I’ve been allergic to seafood since I was a kid.” My mother waved her hand dismissively. “That was only because we were poor back then and you didn’t eat it enough. If you eat more now, you’ll get used to it. I’m doing this for your own good.” My father’s face grew darker. “Your mother got up before dawn to make this for you, and you’re being picky? Drink it and stop being so ungrateful!” I saw the fury in his eyes and knew it was pointless to argue. “You’re right. Thank you, Mom. I’m sorry.” My mother’s tears vanished, replaced by a triumphant smile. “That’s my good girl. Hurry and drink it before it gets cold.” I took the bowl back to my room, closed the door, and quietly opened the window. I poured the soup into a spare dish and set it on the ledge. A stray cat, drawn by the smell, appeared moments later and lapped it up greedily. A few days later, my project was officially launched to great success. My performance secured me the official recommendation letter from my company for the New York transfer. That afternoon, I aced the final online interview. I felt confident, relieved. The finish line was in sight. But when I walked out of my room, I found my mother sitting on the living room couch, wearing her reading glasses. In her hands was my recommendation letter, the seal broken, the contents spread open for her to read. I froze. No wonder she’d been so quiet during my interview. She’d found a new target. “Mom! That’s a sealed, official document! Once the seal is broken, it’s invalid!” I shrieked, my voice cracking. “I might not be able to report to the headquarters now!” She looked up, completely unfazed. “I was just doing it for your own good, Lily. I was worried your boss might have written something bad about you in there, to sabotage you.” “Besides,” she added, “what’s the big deal? I can just glue it shut again.” I was so frustrated I could have screamed. “It doesn’t work that way! It’s a legal document! Once it’s been opened, it’s useless! Years of my work could be for nothing because of this!” But she wasn’t listening. Her face began to crumple again. “I was only trying to help you,” she mumbled, tears welling up. “Why is it always my fault?” The sound of her crying was like a dinner bell for my father. He shot out of his study. “Lily! Your mother was just looking out for you! And what kind of company is that anyway? If they won’t accept you without one stupid letter, they’re not worth working for! All these rules and regulations, it’s just a way to bully people!” He snatched the letter from my hands and, in a fit of rage, tore it to shreds.

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The day I learned I was pregnant, my husband Peter announced he was moving his late comrade’s widow onto the military base, leaving me to care for his aging mother. He insisted it was perfect—I, a former nurse’s aide, could quit my job and tend to his mother. Once the baby came, we’d join him. But two months later, his paychecks stopped. I told myself he was sacrificing for our future, so I stayed silent even as we starved. Four years later, I returned home after selling a kidney in the city, only to learn the truth from a neighbor: his mother had been killed by a wild boar while foraging, and my son died of fever without medicine I couldn’t afford. At the funerals, Peter didn’t mourn—he blamed me, called me useless, and demanded a divorce. Soon after, he married the widow. She managed his money now, living comfortably off-base while eating pork chops and rice. My life ended the night she had a healthy son. But when I opened my eyes, I was back—three days before my son and his grandmother were fated to die. This time, I wouldn’t sell a kidney. This time, I’d take them straight to Peter and reclaim everything that was stolen. 1 “Mom, I have to find Peter. Only the army has the medicine. Only he can save Leo.” My mother-in-law’s eyes were hollowed out by hunger, her gaze sweeping over the barren walls of our crumbling, dirt-floor cottage. Tears welled. “Alright,” she whispered. “I’ll do whatever you say.” I took the last of Peter’s things—his old army canteen and the one sturdy stool we had left—to the market. I traded them for ten pounds of sweet potatoes and a small bag of cornmeal. Back home, I cooked a thick, warm porridge. It was the most filling meal we’d had since the food ran out. After we ate, I settled my mother-in-law and my son onto a rickety handcart and started pushing them toward Peter’s base. We asked for directions to Fort Sterling as we went. I was stunned to learn it was barely thirty miles away. Closer than the city I’d been planning to travel to. And still, in all these years, he hadn’t come home to see us even once. When we finally arrived, the guard at the gate handed me a pen and a visitor log. As I prepared to write “Wife” in the relationship column, Peter himself appeared in the doorway. His features were sharper, more defined than I remembered. He was more handsome, more imposing in his uniform. His eyes swept over our ragged forms, and his expression shifted from shock to pure, unadulterated embarrassment. “Elara… What are you doing here?” He quickly pulled us aside, out of the main thoroughfare, before muttering a quiet, “Mom.” His gaze fell on our son. “Is this… my boy?” I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat and nodded sharply. “Leo, say ‘Daddy.’” My son’s cheeks were flushed with fever, his body weak and frail. But seeing his father for the first time, his eyes lit up. He stretched out his tiny arms. “Da…” Before the second syllable could escape his lips, Peter clamped a hand over his mouth, his voice a harsh whisper. “Don’t you dare call me Dad here. Do you understand?” Leo flinched, terrified. His little lip trembled, and he burrowed his face into my side. My mother-in-law looked at Peter, her face a mask of confusion and hurt. I bit my lip, my fists clenching at my sides. A sharp pain lanced through my heart. “Peter, Leo is sick. I have no money for his medicine. You have to help him!” He looked baffled. “What do you mean, no money? Didn’t I send you—” Just then, a vintage-style army jeep pulled up. Peter snapped to attention, his back ramrod straight as he delivered a sharp salute. “Good afternoon, General!” The window rolled down, revealing the kind, weathered face of an older man. “Captain,” the General said, his eyes landing on us. “And who are these folks?” Peter hesitated for a fraction of a second before his voice boomed with false confidence. “Report, sir! This is just my housekeeper’s family. They’re visiting for a few days.” The General smiled, told him to be a good host, and drove on. Peter let out a quiet breath of relief and hurried us through the gate. A flicker of guilt crossed his face, but his tone was devoid of any real sympathy. “Elara, this is reckless. You can’t just show up like this without any warning, dragging Mom and the boy all this way.” He lowered his voice. “I’m up for a promotion. I’m this close to making Major. You can’t cause trouble for me now.” My mother-in-law weakly smacked his arm with the walking stick she leaned on. Tears streamed down her face. “Son, you could be a general, and you’d still be Elara’s husband. She has suffered so much taking care of me and this child all these years, and you never even came home to see her.” Her voice broke. “How could you call her a housekeeper? How could you forbid your own son from calling you ‘Daddy’?” Sensing he’d gone too far, Peter softened his tone. “Mom, it hasn’t been easy for me, either, getting to where I am. Everything I do is for this family, isn’t it?” I didn’t want to argue. I just wanted the medicine for Leo. Soon we arrived at his quarters. He knocked on the door, a sudden, cheerful lilt in his voice. “Scarlett, open up! I’m home.” “Coming, coming!” a light, musical voice replied, followed by the sound of quick footsteps. The door swung open. The moment the woman—Scarlett—saw me, her bright smile vanished, replaced by a thunderous scowl. 2 Scarlett was wearing a well-tailored floral dress. Her makeup was perfect, her hair styled, and a light, pleasant fragrance drifted from her. And then there was me. My own dress was a patchwork of faded fabric and mended holes. My face was a constellation of sunspots from years of laboring under the sun. Scarlett feigned surprise. “Peter, is this… Elara?” The disgust in her voice was a physical thing, thick and suffocating. I locked eyes with Peter, my voice ice. “Why is she living with you?” Seeing someone walking down the hall, Peter’s eyes darted nervously. He shoved us inside the room, his movements clumsy with panic. Scarlett rushed to explain, her voice a placating coo. “Elara, please don’t misunderstand. Peter and I are living together, but it’s completely innocent. He was just taking pity on me and my daughter, a widow and her fatherless child. We’re just looking out for each other.” A fatherless child? Just then, a little girl, about Leo’s age, ran out and threw her arms around Peter’s legs, whining playfully. “Daddy, you’re so late! Molly is hungry. Mommy made pork ribs today, and they smell so good!” Seeing the thunderstruck expressions on my face and my mother-in-law’s, Peter quickly tried to explain. “Mom, Elara, don’t get the wrong idea. Molly isn’t my child with Scarlett. Scarlett was already pregnant when she came to the base. Molly is my fallen comrade’s daughter.” He sighed. “She’s just a little girl, she doesn’t understand. She sees all the other kids have fathers, so she started calling me ‘Daddy.’” So that was it. He wouldn’t let his own son call him ‘Daddy’ because he was too busy playing that role for another man’s child. He was raising someone else’s daughter to be healthy and bright, feeding her rice and pork ribs every day, while his own son, who hadn’t tasted meat in his life, was wasting away, on the brink of death. A white-hot rage surged through me. Noticing my stare fixed on the girl, Peter instinctively scooped her up, positioning himself in front of Scarlett as if to shield them both. “Elara, if you’re angry, take it out on me. Leave the child out of it.” The sight of him protecting Scarlett, protecting her child, sent a chill down my spine. The scene suddenly overlapped with a memory from my past life. In that life, he had brought a black-clad Scarlett home, announcing she would be moving to the base with him. Her husband, he’d explained, had died saving his life on a mission. His dying wish was for Peter to look after his new bride. He’d told me that since I was pregnant, the long journey would be too hard. He wanted me to stay behind with his mother. He swore on his life that he would come for us as soon as the baby was born. I believed him. I never imagined that wait would end in ruin and death for my family. And for him? He got the girl, the career, and a life of success built on our graves. And here he was now, holding another man’s daughter, refusing to even touch his own flesh and blood. “Alright, you’re here now,” Peter said, breaking the tense silence. “Let’s just eat. Scarlett, set three more places.” On the table was a platter of fragrant, steaming pork ribs and a large bowl of fluffy white rice—luxuries my son had never known. The aroma made my mouth water. Even my mother-in-law couldn’t help but swallow hard, her eyes glued to the food. Scarlett didn’t say a word, but the contempt pouring from her was unmistakable. She sullenly placed three bowls of rice on the table for us, then one for Peter. For herself and Molly, she set out empty bowls filled only with water. She then invited everyone to eat, her voice dripping with false sweetness. It had taken us a full day to find Peter. We hadn’t had a drop of water or a crumb of food. We were starving. We shoveled the rice into our mouths. My son, Leo, gave up on his chopsticks and grabbed two ribs with his bare hands. Peter watched us, a look of revulsion on his face. “Slow down. No one’s going to take it from you.” We were country folk, and our table manners were rough when we were hungry. But I had always taught my family to be considerate, to only take food from the part of the dish closest to them. Every dish, we only touched one side. Suddenly, Scarlett’s daughter, Molly, started banging her empty bowl with her chopsticks, wailing loudly. “I want to eat! I want pork ribs! Molly’s hungry!” Only then did Peter seem to notice their empty bowls. His brow furrowed. “Why aren’t you two eating?” Scarlett’s face paled. She forced a smile. “There wasn’t any rice left after I served you all. You eat. Molly and I can just have some water.” Peter looked heartbroken. He started to push his own bowl toward them. Scarlett stopped him. “No, you work so hard. You need your strength. I’m just sitting around all day, I can miss a meal. It’s just… Molly…” Her voice trailed off. She put on a brave face and picked up her daughter. “I’ll take Molly to the field to see the outdoor movie. That’ll distract her. You finish your dinner, don’t worry about us.” After finishing his two ribs, my son dutifully stopped himself from taking another. He looked up at me, his eyes wide with curiosity. “Mommy, what’s an outdoor movie? Can Leo see it too?” Scarlett’s body went rigid. Peter’s face flushed with shame. Scarlett turned and walked away, stopping at the door to spray Molly with bug repellent. Peter was silent for a long moment. Finally, he looked at me, his expression strained. “Elara,” he said, his voice tight. “When… when are you planning on heading back?” 3 I met his gaze head-on. “We’re not. We’re moving in.” “What? Not leaving?” Peter’s eyes shot toward the door. Just outside, Scarlett, holding Molly, had already started walking away. She let the door slam shut with a loud bang. He instinctively called out, “Scarlett!” When he turned back to me, his face was a dark mask. “Elara, don’t be ridiculous. I’m about to be promoted. I can’t have a single thing go wrong.” “You need to take Mom and Leo back home. Once I—” I slammed my chopsticks down, cutting him off. “Wait, wait, wait… Peter, have you forgotten every single promise you ever made?” My voice rose, shaking with fury. “You said you’d send for us after the baby was born! It’s been four years! We haven’t gotten so much as a letter. I thought you were dead!” He bristled, his own anger flaring. “Why are you talking like this now? So coarse. What happened to the educated woman I married?” I was already holding back. How could a few harsh words even begin to cover four years of misery and betrayal? “Peter, do you have any idea what our lives have been like for the past four years?” My voice trembled. “The first year, I was pregnant, managing everything inside and out. I was harvesting crops with a giant belly, and I nearly died giving birth!” “The second year, the drought hit. The crops failed. Your mother and I climbed the mountains every day, foraging for wild greens just to have something to eat. She got sick, and we couldn’t even afford a doctor!” “The third year, she got worse. I had to sell my blood to pay for her medicine.” “And now my son is sick. I can’t buy the medicine he needs. And the first thing you do when we get here is try to kick us out? Are you trying to kill us?” With every word I spoke, the color drained further from Peter’s face. “Wild greens? Selling blood? What happened to the money I sent every month?” I stared at him, incredulous. “What money? When did you ever send us money?” At that exact moment, Scarlett returned, holding Molly. She was drenched, her clothes clinging to her, making her look fragile and pitiful. She forced a weak smile. “It started raining. I hope you all finished eating. I’ll do the dishes.” Peter looked as if a lightbulb had gone off in his head. He grabbed her wrist. “Scarlett, what about the money I gave you every month to send to Elara? Why didn’t she receive it?” Tears instantly welled in Scarlett’s eyes. “Peter, I am so sorry,” she sobbed. “I failed Elara. I was pregnant then, and it was so hard to move… I kept meaning to send it, I was just going to wait a day or two.” “But then you got hurt during training, and you needed better food to recover, so I… I spent the money on that. And then I just… I forgot.” “It’s all my fault. I’m a terrible person. I’ll take Molly and leave right now. I won’t disturb your family reunion anymore.” The more I listened, the hotter my anger burned. I couldn’t hold back any longer. “Was it to help Peter recover, or to stuff your own face? Did you forget to send the money, or did you never intend to send it? Scarlett, you know the truth better than anyone!” Peter couldn’t stand hearing me speak to her like that. “Elara! Why can’t you just speak normally? Why do you have to be so aggressive?” “You’ve suffered, I get it, but has it been easy for Scarlett? She’s taken perfect care of me for years!” My head was buzzing, my entire body shaking with rage. “You bastard, Peter!” I screamed. “In what capacity has she been ‘taking care of you’? Don’t you dare tell me you’ve been living under the same roof for years and nothing has happened!” “You’ve kept her and her daughter plump and rosy while your own family starved! Open your damn eyes and look at your son! Look at your mother! Look at what they’ve become! This is all because of her!” Scarlett’s face crumpled. She swayed, looking like she was about to faint. Peter immediately caught her, pulling her into his arms. But she pushed him away dramatically, her voice a careful whisper. “Don’t touch me. I’m soaked. You’ll catch a chill.” She coughed delicately. “Molly is cold, too. I’ll give her some medicine and then we’ll go. Please, don’t fight because of me.” Her gentle, considerate act only made me look more like a hysterical, unreasonable shrew. Peter shot me a look of pure disgust before following Scarlett into her room. A moment later, they emerged. Peter was holding a first-aid box. As Scarlett opened it, my eyes locked on a small vial inside. In my past life, it was the very medicine I sold my kidney for and still couldn’t afford… 4 I snatched the vial from the box, my hands trembling with a desperate excitement. “Mom, this is it!” I cried. “This is the medicine that can save Leo!” The next second, Scarlett ripped it from my grasp. “No, you can’t have this!” she said, her voice sharp. She quickly softened it, blushing and lowering her gaze. “There’s a bad children’s virus going around. This is for Molly. They only issue one vial per family.” She caught herself, realizing her slip of the tongue. After the agony of losing my son in my past life, I would do anything to save him this time. “So you do know who the real family is,” I snarled. “Give me the medicine!” Scarlett looked at Peter, her eyes shimmering with tears. He turned on me, his voice a low growl. “That’s enough, Elara. It’s just one vial of medicine. I can request another one for you, can’t I?” “How long does a request take?” “Three days, tops.” Leo didn’t have three days. “No! My son is gravely ill. He can’t wait that long!” Peter’s face darkened. “Elara, are you just trying to pick a fight with me? It’s only three days. Why can’t he wait?” The cure was right there, in my hands. I couldn’t give up. If I had to fight for it, I would. I was done arguing. While Scarlett was distracted, I lunged forward and grabbed the vial. I twisted off the cap, ready to pour the life-saving liquid into my son’s mouth. But before a single drop could touch his lips, Peter seized my arm, yanking me back so hard I stumbled. He wrenched the vial from my hand, his eyes blazing with fury and disgust. “Elara! Have you no shame? Stealing what isn’t yours? Do you have any idea what a breach of discipline this is?” “I don’t know about discipline! I only know that if you won’t save our son, I will!” Peter’s face contorted with rage. “You’re putting on quite a show just to get back at me, aren’t you? I really underestimated you, Elara. You are a massive disappointment!” I ignored him, clawing at his hand, trying to get the medicine back. Leo, terrified, hid behind his grandmother, his small body wracked with silent sobs. My mother-in-law began hitting Peter with her wooden stick. “You ungrateful boy! Your grandson is truly sick! Give Elara the medicine!” But Peter was unmoved. “Mom, are you in on this act with her?” he spat. “She can’t stand that I’m good to Scarlett and Molly. She sees this medicine has the fanciest label and decides it’s some miracle cure she has to have. Is she a thief now?” “Elara, if you don’t stop this nonsense, don’t blame me for what happens next!” I was nearly mad with grief and rage, scratching and clawing at him wildly. “Peter, you monster, give me the medicine! Are you really going to let our son die? You call yourself a soldier, a protector of this country?” “ENOUGH!” Peter exploded. With a roar of fury, he hurled the vial to the ground. It shattered, sending shards of glass and precious medicine flying across the floor. “Get out,” he seethed. “Get out of my house right now!” “We have no place for a lunatic like you here!” Staring at the glittering fragments on the floor, my heart shattered with them. I don’t know where the strength came from, but a primal scream tore from my throat as I launched myself at him, hitting and kicking. I truly became the lunatic he called me. I shrieked curses I didn’t know I knew. I swept the television and radio—things I had only ever dreamed of seeing—off their shelves. I turned their cozy little home into a wasteland of broken things. The commotion was so loud it finally brought the base commander and neighbors from upstairs and downstairs running. A sharp knock sounded at the door. Panic flared in Peter’s eyes. He grabbed me, pinning my flailing arms, his voice suddenly dropping to a desperate, pleading whisper. “Elara, Elara, please, calm down. Don’t let everyone see this. I’m up for promotion, I can’t have a scandal.” “I’m sorry, okay? Can we just stop this?” But I shoved him away. And under his horrified gaze, I wrenched the door open.

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I went home for Christmas with a split lip. My childhood friend, who always looked down on me, sneered: “Did a dog bite you again?” In front of a room full of relatives, I said: “My boyfriend bit me.” My childhood friend’s face turned black instantly. Chapter 1 Under my mom’s ultimatum to come home early for the holidays or else, I rushed back on the very last day of the deadline, arriving at night. The moment I stepped through the door, I saw my childhood friend, Julian, and his parents. We locked eyes for a moment. Julian put on a mocking expression: “Chloe, did a dog bite you again?” When I was five, I insisted on kissing a dog and got bitten, resulting in three rabies shots. Julian was the one who accompanied me to get the shots, albeit reluctantly. But this became his go-to joke to mock me. Probably recalling the past, the adults in the room all laughed. I touched my lip. The wound had scabbed over, standing out starkly against my pale lips. Amidst their laughter, I said: “No, my boyfriend bit me this morning.” The laughter stopped abruptly. Everyone looked shocked, except for Julian, whose face turned dark. Because we used to have a “baby engagement.” Chapter 2 In the pin-drop silence, Julian’s mom spoke up: “Chloe has a boyfriend?” I responded politely: “Yes, a senior from my college.” Under Julian’s almost furious gaze, I continued: “He didn’t have time to come this trip. I’ll find a time after New Year’s to bring him over for dinner.” Julian finally exploded, shouting: “Dinner my ass!” Then he turned and stormed out to the balcony. Julian’s mom gave me a panicked look and followed him to the balcony. I shrugged, used to this, and wheeled my luggage into my room under the awkward gazes of the remaining adults. I could still hear snippets of the argument from the balcony. “You were the one who said you’d rather die than marry Chloe! Now she has a boyfriend, what are you freaking out for?” Julian’s mom finished, and after a long silence, I heard Julian say: “Anyway, I don’t agree!” I lowered my eyes and smiled. Three years ago, at a gathering of our two families, Julian’s mom joked again, calling me “daughter-in-law.” Unexpectedly, Julian snapped on the spot, accusing his mother of not knowing boundaries with jokes, then turning to accuse me of being shameless and following him around, telling me not to bother him anymore. Julian’s dad slapped him right there. And he blamed me for it all. We parted on bad terms. I even chose a university in the Southwest, far away from Julian. I thought Julian and I would just be childhood acquaintances from then on. So what is he doing now? Chapter 3 By the time I changed into loungewear, Julian was already sitting at the dining table. I don’t know how his mom coaxed him, but he seemed less angry than before. During the meal, everyone deliberately avoided the topic from earlier, only asking about my studies. Just as the atmosphere relaxed a bit, my phone suddenly rang. Glancing at the caller ID, I pursed my lips in a smile. “Taking a call. Auntie, please continue eating.” I got up and walked out the door. It was my boyfriend Ethan calling, just asking if I had eaten. I whispered to him: “Why did you bite my lip so hard it bled? I didn’t even notice.” Ethan hummed and hawed on the other end before squeezing out: “I did it on purpose.” Just as I was about to speak, a loud bang came from behind the door. I turned my head. Julian’s face was red, full of impatience: “Are you eating or not? If not, I’m washing the dishes.” Ethan’s voice came from the phone: “You haven’t finished eating yet? Should I order you some fried chicken?” Hearing Ethan’s voice, Julian’s face turned iron green: “Who is that?” I looked up at him, smiled, and said slowly: “My boyfriend.” Chapter 4 Ethan was silent for a moment on the phone, then said: “Call me tonight. Waiting for you~” The sound of him hanging up came from the other end. In the hallway, only silence remained between Julian and me. Julian stared at my lips for a long time before suddenly saying: “How long have you been dating? And you… kissed?” I turned off the screen and put the phone in my pocket: “Almost a year.” I watched his face turn black then red. “How come I haven’t seen you mention him?” I thought about it. Julian was probably talking about my social media. After falling out with him, I didn’t delete him, but we rarely messaged each other. I rarely updated my status, didn’t change my profile picture or bio, and never posted anything about Ethan. I said: “I forgot to update.” I put the phone in my pocket as I spoke. Julian chuckled lightly: “Seems like you don’t like him that much.” He seemed relieved. I looked at him in confusion: “Why do you say that?” “If you liked him, you wouldn’t not mention him at all.” I clenched my fist lightly. “No, I like him very much.” I looked up, staring into Julian’s eyes, wanting to tell him I wasn’t lying. Julian looked down at me. Seeing that I didn’t seem to be lying, a trace of unease flashed in his eyes. I didn’t want to tangle with him anymore and started to walk away. Passing by Julian, he asked softly: “How could you move on so quickly?”

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At the party, my asthma flared up. I scrambled to grab my emergency inhaler. Only to find the canister empty. My boyfriend, Ethan, explained: “Chloe said her throat was dry, so I gave her the inhaler. Just have a cough drop, it helps too.” But my breathing was getting harder and harder. “Her throat was dry? Why didn’t she just drink water? You guys are going to kill me!” He frowned, dissatisfied. “Can you stop being so dramatic? You always act so fragile, like you’re some delicate princess.” “Chloe is right, you’re just needy.” I didn’t argue further. I texted my mother: “My asthma is acting up, but Ethan gave my inhaler to Chloe.” 1 Ethan saw the message and scoffed. “Pulling this again? Always tattling like an elementary schooler?” He snatched my phone, holding it high, looking down at me. I tried to grab it back. But as soon as I stood up, my vision went black, and I fell back down. “I’m having an asthma attack, help me,” I gasped urgently. Just then, Chloe walked over, waving the inhaler in her hand. “Oh my, Princess Sophia, are you really feeling bad? Or just trying to get attention?” “Ugh, I knew we shouldn’t have brought a girl to a guys’ night out. Always causing drama and competing for attention.” I gasped for air, staring daggers at Chloe. She was Ethan’s childhood friend. She always hung out with the guys, acting like “one of the bros.” Ethan had mentioned her to me more than once, praising her for being a “cool girl.” At first, I had a good impression of this carefree “bro-girl” Ethan described. After we got serious, Ethan introduced me to his circle. Chloe always acted very supportive of girls. “Wow Ethan, you have good taste! Where’d you find this princess?” “Yas queen, let’s stick together and ignore these smelly boys.” But I could always feel a hint of malice in the way she looked at me. Her methods were subtle. She claimed to support girls, but her actions deliberately ignored me. For example, at parties, she would always bring up inside jokes from their childhood. I couldn’t join in, forced to sit silently on the side. Then, she would loudly joke with me. “What’s wrong, Princess? You’re not upset because I’m talking to Ethan, are you?” I told Ethan how uncomfortable this made me. But Ethan just called me petty. He said Chloe was just trying to liven up the atmosphere, and I was too sensitive. But now, Chloe’s malice was undisguised. “A princess is always a princess. Is it because we aren’t revolving around you that you’re unhappy, so you’re faking being sick?” Hearing her words, the guys around us snickered. “I’m really not feeling well, give me the inhaler!” I raised my voice. Seeing me like this, the room went quiet for a second. Then erupted into even louder laughter. Chloe put her hand on Ethan’s shoulder. Watching me gasp for air, she laughed so hard she leaned back. “Wow, the acting is on point. Ethan, you’re not feeling sorry for her, are you?” The others goaded Ethan too. “Yeah, Ethan, you’re not gonna be whipped after you get married, right?” “Don’t embarrass us, bro! The man is the head of the house. If a woman misbehaves, you gotta teach her a lesson.” Ethan couldn’t stand the provocation. He stiffened his neck, avoiding my eyes. “Who feels sorry for her? She needs to be taught a lesson, always making trouble out of nothing.” I couldn’t breathe. I desperately pulled at Ethan’s sleeve, making wheezing sounds from my throat. “Save… me…” Seeing me like this, Ethan hesitated. But Chloe spoke up again. “Alright, alright Sophia, we’re all straight dudes here, no one buys your damsel in distress act.” Knowing I couldn’t get through to him, I tried to leave the room. But just as I propped myself up, Chloe pushed me back down. “The party isn’t over, how can you leave? That’s so disrespectful to me.” She pushed hard. I wasn’t paying attention, and the back of my head hit the wall. Thud. My head spun even more. Before I could react, Chloe screamed first. 2 She covered her mouth, exaggerating her shock. “Omg? You are so manipulative.” “I barely touched you, and you hit your own head against the wall to frame me?” Hearing this, Ethan looked at me with even more impatience. “Sophia, you’re crossing the line.” I bit my lip, trying to stay conscious. “I have severe asthma. If you don’t want someone to die, stop it.” My throat hurt; every breath felt like inhaling glass shards. Chloe waved the inhaler in front of my face tauntingly, taking a dramatic puff. “Can’t give it to you, my throat is dry.” “Gotta say, expensive stuff is good. This feels great to use.” I struggled to raise my hand to grab it. She laughed and held it high, dodging me. “Nope, not giving it.” I was so angry my vision went black again. Ethan stood by with his arms crossed, watching. “Look at you, begging like a beggar. Chloe just wants to use it for a bit, don’t be so stingy.” “Chloe saw your medical report. You don’t have asthma, you’re just short of breath sometimes.” I tried to calm myself down. “Ethan, haven’t you seen me have an attack before? What reason do I have to lie to you?” Before Ethan could answer, Chloe cut in. “For attention, obviously. In this day and age, there’s always some attention seeker faking illness.” “Hehe, Sophia, are you like those internet snowflakes who claim to have depression too?” Hearing this, Ethan’s bros laughed even louder. Someone whistled. “Ethan, your girlfriend is too petty. Not even half as cool as Chloe.” “Yeah, you’re gonna suffer when you marry her.” I gasped for air, using my last bit of strength to reach for the inhaler in Chloe’s hand. But just as my fingers were about to touch it, she dodged nimbly. I lost my balance and fell forward onto the carpet. “Oops, the acting is so realistic!” Chloe exclaimed dramatically. Then she squatted down, whispering so only I could hear. “Hehe, hurry up and die. If you die, Ethan and I can finally be together.” She stood up, raising her voice deliberately. “Sophia, stop it, get up. Everyone is waiting to toast you and Ethan.” Ethan felt something was wrong. He stepped forward to help me up. “What’s going on with you, are you really sick?” “Help me…” I struggled to spit out the words. My hand gripped Ethan’s wrist tight, only able to emit broken gasps. “In… inhaler…” Ethan’s brows knit tight, panic and struggle finally appearing in his eyes. He looked at Chloe. “Chloe, maybe give it to her.” Chloe’s face fell instantly. She stubbornly hid the inhaler behind her back, stomping her foot in frustration. “Ethan, are you blind? She’s obviously faking it! Did you forget what a diva she used to be?” Saying that, she suddenly shouted to the others. “Look guys, this kind of competitive girl just knows how to act. And of course, Ethan falls for it.” The guys immediately backed her up. “Ethan, we grew up with Chloe. Would she harm you?” “These princesses just love making trouble out of nothing. Don’t spoil her.” Ethan’s face changed. His grip on me loosened. I could feel his hesitation. Between my painful attack and Chloe’s manipulation. “But, her face looks really pale…” 3 Ethan was worried, his eyes on my bloodless lips. Chloe suddenly slapped her forehead. “Oh!” “I saw her take a tampon to the bathroom earlier. She must have period cramps.” She acted like she was being considerate. “Sophia, if it’s cramps, just say it’s cramps. Why lie about an asthma attack? Making Ethan worry for nothing.” Hearing this, Ethan sighed in relief. He looked at me with blame. “Don’t joke like that again. You almost scared me to death.” I had no strength left. Luckily, I took preventive medication before leaving the house. Otherwise, with their stalling, I would be dead already. Chloe hid behind Ethan, smiling provocatively at me. Then she pulled a small bottle from her bag. “Here, I have throat lozenges. Sophia, didn’t you say your throat hurts? Have one!” She shoved the lozenge into my mouth. The minty flavor rushed into my nose, making the burning in my throat worse. I wanted to spit it out. But she gripped my jaw tight. “Swallow it! What is wrong with you? You really are faking it for sympathy.” She only let go when I started dry heaving, then turned to Ethan. “See? She won’t eat it. If she’s not faking, what is it?” Ethan looked at me, then at the spat-out lozenge on the floor. The panic in his eyes vanished, replaced by annoyance. He felt I was making a big deal out of nothing. He sighed heavily and dropped me onto the sofa. My back hit the armrest, pain making me gasp. “Fine, let’s drop it. Don’t do this again.” “No, I…” I wanted to explain, but my throat could only make wheezing sounds. Chloe patted Ethan’s shoulder. “Come on, ignore her. Let’s go drink. If no one pays attention to her, she’ll be fine in a bit.” Ethan nodded. He glanced at me one last time before leaving. That look held impatience and annoyance, but no worry. Dragged by Chloe towards the crowd, he dropped one last sentence. “Behave yourself. Don’t embarrass me again.” The crowd dispersed with them, running off to drink. I curled up in the corner, watching Ethan and Chloe being urged to drink a “cross-cupped wine” (a wedding tradition/intimate gesture). “Come on, cross cups!” “Don’t be a killjoy, drink up!” “It’s just a game, your girlfriend isn’t that petty, right?” In my blurred vision, I saw Ethan glance at me from afar, then put his arm around Chloe and kiss her… I felt the air in my lungs being drawn out bit by bit. I really couldn’t breathe. My phone was thrown on the floor by Ethan. But I didn’t even have the strength to crawl to it. In despair, I suddenly remembered I had put an asthma pill in my bag last month. Summoning my last bit of strength, I fumbled around. My heart jumped when my fingertips touched the chain of my bag. I clawed at the strap, dragging it over. Leather rubbed against the sofa. The bag was open. I tipped it. A pill rolled out onto the carpet. This is it! Although just an emergency release tablet. Slower than the inhaler, but it could buy me time. I almost cried. But just as I reached out, fingertips about to touch the pill—a high heel stepped on it. 4 Right in front of my eyes, the heel ground the pill into dust. It was Chloe. She smiled down at me, toe still twisting. “Oops, almost let you eat the medicine.” Blood rushed to my head. “Get out! I’ll kill you! My mom won’t let you get away with this.” Suffocation surged. After saying this, I collapsed back onto the sofa, like a dying beast. “Heehee, seeing you rage helplessly makes me so happy.” Chloe squatted down, poking my face with her long nails. “You deserve it. Trying to take my things. Ethan is mine. Even if I don’t want him, it’s not your turn.” saying that, she yanked my hair hard. “Alright, you can die now.” My scalp stung. I wanted to struggle. But I couldn’t even lift my arm. “I am… Xu Group…” In my blurry vision, Chloe’s face twisted. She cut me off. “Ethan is drinking over there.” She leaned close to my ear, voice sickeningly sweet. “He can’t be bothered with you. Say, if you died right now, would he be sad?” I tried to bite her hand, but she dodged easily. She stood up, patted my face, then shouted to Ethan in the distance. “Ethan! Come look! Sophia seems really mad!” Ethan came over. Seeing me limp on the sofa, his frown deepened. “What are you doing now? It’s just cramps, don’t act like you’re dying. Every woman gets cramps.” “I, I really have…” I gasped weakly, “Asthma…” Ethan’s gaze swept over my pale face, then looked at Chloe. Chloe shrugged helplessly, indicating she couldn’t do anything. Ethan fixed his eyes on me, full of disappointment. “Sophia, I’ve had enough of you. If you keep this up, we’re breaking up.” With that, he turned and left. Chloe trotted after him, turning back to flash me a “V” sign. I felt my lungs were like leaking bellows, every breath tearing with pain. Static filled my vision. Chloe’s face in the distance zoomed in and out in the halo, like a demon from hell. My eyelids were heavy. Over there, the crowd cheered around Chloe. In my peripheral vision, Ethan toasted with his bros. Chloe pretended to be drunk and leaned into Ethan’s arms. He didn’t push her away; instead, he held her waist tighter. “Ethan…” I used all my strength to call him. Voice weak as a mosquito. He turned back inexplicably. Chloe immediately whispered something in his ear. He frowned, shaking his head impatiently. In that moment, the last warmth in my heart turned cold. I slowly closed my eyes. I regretted it so much. Why was I with Ethan? Ethan was just a poor student from an ordinary family. And my mother was a billionaire entrepreneur. Afraid Ethan would feel inferior, I never told him this. He always thought my family was just slightly better off than his. Chloe walked back. She squatted in front of me. “I heard you’re from a single-parent family. If you die, your mom will cry to death, right?” “But it’s okay. Ethan will handle your funeral as your fiancé. Maybe your mom will be touched and give all the inheritance to Ethan…” Chloe sure could dream. But before she finished, the private room door was suddenly pushed open. “Sophia!” It was Mom’s voice.

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During the Black Friday sales rush, I was live for eighteen hours a day. I sold every last mango from Maple Creek. That night, the town mayor, Mr. Henderson, shoved a payment QR code in my face. “Rachel,” he started, a greasy smile on his face, “you’ve been live for over two weeks. You must’ve eaten a few hundred pounds of our mangoes.” “They’re selling for over a dollar a pound now. You’ve worked so hard for us, so we won’t ask for much. How about you just pay us a buck a pound for what you ate?” The other townspeople chimed in, their voices a greedy chorus. “That’s right! Rachel, you’re a huge influencer now. You can’t be taking advantage of your own people, can you?” I was just… stunned. For two weeks, I had been selling their mangoes for free. I didn’t take a single cent in commission. And now they wanted me to pay for the mangoes I sampled on camera? A bitter laugh escaped my lips. I scanned the code and sent them three thousand dollars without a word. Two months later, the second harvest was ripe. Mayor Henderson found me again. “Rachel! You need to go live for a few more days! Sell this new batch for us!” I pulled a contract from my briefcase and slid it across the table. “Mr. Henderson, I have thirty million followers now.” “My fee for a single product feature is fifty thousand dollars. Payment upfront.” 1 When the final Black Friday livestream ended, my throat was raw. For fifteen straight days, I’d been staring at a screen for eighteen hours, and my teammate Kevin was so exhausted he’d fallen asleep right in his chair in the back. I pulled out my phone and sent everyone on the team a generous bonus, then cleared my tight, aching throat. “You all worked incredibly hard these past two weeks,” I rasped. “While every other streamer was cashing in on the holiday traffic, we were here, selling mangoes for our hometown for free. I know you all passed up lucrative partnerships for this, and I won’t forget it.” My assistant, Jenna, rubbed her bloodshot eyes. “Rachel, you’re the one who’s exhausted. The deals you turned down these past two weeks… we’re talking seven figures, easily.” Kevin, now awake, added his own hoarse comment. “She’s right.” “You did this for your old neighbors, paying for the equipment rentals and logistics out of your own pocket, without taking a dime in commission.” “You’ve got a heart of gold, Rachel.” I looked at the mountains of mango crates stacked in the warehouse, a sense of quiet satisfaction settling in my chest. Helping my hometown sell their harvest was worth earning a little less. Just then, the warehouse door creaked open. Mayor Henderson walked in, flanked by a dozen other residents of Maple Creek, his face stretched into a wide smile. He fumbled with his phone and held up a QR code for me to scan. “Rachel, my girl! You must have eaten your fair share of mangoes these past two weeks, eh?” He rubbed his hands together. “We won’t charge you the full price. Let’s just call it a dollar a pound.” My uncle, Jack, spoke up from the back. “She must’ve gone through at least two thousand pounds! That’s two thousand dollars right there!” I stood frozen, the words not quite registering. Jenna shot to her feet. “Sampling the product is to show the quality! Every streamer does it! How else would anyone buy them?” She gestured wildly at the warehouse packed with crates. “Rachel just sold out your entire town’s harvest! At market price, you’ve all made over six hundred thousand dollars. She didn’t take a penny, and you’re coming after her for a few hundred bucks for samples?” “We paid for the equipment and shipping ourselves! That was over ten thousand dollars right there, and we never asked you for a thing!” The townspeople exchanged uneasy glances. Some of them looked down at their feet. But Uncle Jack just stuck his chin out. “Business is business. Even family has to settle accounts. She has to pay for what she ate!” Jenna’s eyes welled up with furious tears. “Do you have any idea how many corporate sponsorships Rachel turned down for you? One of those deals alone could have bought every mango in this town!” The young woman’s raw anger silenced the room, but only for a moment. Mayor Henderson’s shifty eyes darted around before he cleared his throat. “Now, Rachel, we all know you worked hard. The whole town is grateful.” “But these mangoes… we wake up before the sun to grow them. This harvest is all we have to live on for the whole year.” He pointed to the people behind him. “Look at your uncle Jack. His son’s college tuition is due. And Mrs. Gable’s husband is sick. We’re not like you, making a fortune with every livestream.” Uncle Jack added his own two cents. “Two thousand dollars is a fancy dinner for you. For us, it’s six months of groceries.” The mayor pushed the phone closer to my face. “You’re a big-shot influencer. You’re not going to nickel-and-dime your own people over this, are you?” 2 That line seemed to straighten their spines. The murmurs started again, louder this time. “Exactly! The donations you get in your streams are insane. You’re telling us you can’t spare two grand?” “Growing these things is back-breaking work! You just talk into a camera and get rich. You owe us a piece of that!” Mrs. Gable started dabbing at her eyes. “I can’t even afford my husband’s medicine. You can’t just eat our mangoes for free.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Mrs. Gable, you can’t afford his medicine?” I asked, my voice dangerously calm. “Every year before this, your mangoes would rot on the branch. This year, your family alone sold eight thousand pounds.” “At the current price, that’s at least eight thousand dollars in your pocket. How can you not afford medicine?” She froze, her eyes darting away, unable to meet my gaze. Uncle Jack quickly jumped in. “That’s a separate issue! We’re talking about you eating our mangoes for free!” Looking at his self-righteous face, I felt a sudden, sharp sense of absurdity. For two weeks, I had survived on three or four hours of sleep a night, my voice so raw I could barely speak, yet I kept pushing through the streams. My team was right there with me, eating cold sandwiches and sleeping on army cots. And for what? So these people could have a better life. And now? The moment the money hit their accounts, they were here, demanding I pay for the samples. I looked down at my own chapped lips and suddenly felt like the past two weeks had been a complete waste of time. Seeing my silence, Uncle Jack pointed a finger at my face. “Have you forgotten where you came from, Rachel Miller? Your parents were dirt poor! If this town hadn’t pooled its money to send you to college, where would you be today?” “You used to come to my house for dinner every single day when you were in school! And now you’re arguing with us over a few bucks?” “That’s right! We treated you better than our own daughter! You can’t be so heartless!” A few of the older folks started nodding and muttering. “We never should’ve helped her get an education. Just raised an ungrateful viper.” Their words were like lashes, dredging up every small kindness from my childhood and using it to whip me. I took a deep breath, fighting to keep my voice steady. “You’re right, Uncle Jack. I did used to eat at your house.” “But do you remember? I always had to wait until your dog, Rusty, had finished eating before I was allowed to get the bowl you saved for me by the stove.” “Sometimes I could see scraps of meat in Rusty’s bowl. Mine just had watery, sour porridge.” Mrs. Gable tried to interrupt, but I held up a hand. “And about the tuition money… you might have forgotten.” “But I remember my father, on his knees in your living room, signing a loan agreement that used our house as collateral. You only agreed to lend him the two hundred dollars after he promised you a thirty percent interest rate. I’m sure the town hall still has the record somewhere.” Jenna, her eyes blazing, stepped in front of me like a protective lioness. “The first thing Rachel did after she got a job was pay everyone back! She worked a day job and streamed at night, saving every penny. She paid back the principal and the interest!” she yelled. “In fact, she gave every family an extra hundred dollars on top, and you, Uncle Jack, you complained that the interest was calculated wrong and should have been more!” She pulled out her phone, scrolling through photos. “And what about the ten thousand dollars she donated to pave the town road? Or the five thousand for the school? Do you want us to pull out the receipts for all of that, too?” The townspeople looked at each other, and a few started to back away. Uncle Jack’s face went from red to white, his mouth hanging open. Just then, the mayor’s daughter, Eva, pushed through the crowd with a few other young people. She crossed her arms, looking me up and down with a condescending smirk. “Rachel, darling, dragging up the past is just tacky. Helping you back then was a favor. Isn’t it only right for you to pay it back to the community now?” “Besides, you were the one who promised to sell all the mangoes for free. You can’t go back on your word.” The kids behind her nodded in agreement. Eva’s gaze drifted to the crates of mangoes, and she sighed dramatically. “We know you’re not short on cash. And you’re always talking on your streams about creating ethical standards for helping farmers. You can’t be the one to break the rules, can you?” “You ate so many mangoes during the stream. You can’t just let that slide.” She gently pushed the QR code closer to me again, her voice soft but laced with steel. “Two thousand dollars is just one less designer bag for you. But for these people, it’s a year of hard work.” A young man with bleached hair behind her chimed in. “If your fans found out you were getting free food and handouts from your poor hometown, you might lose a few followers, huh?” “We’re all recording this, by the way. So, Rachel, what’s it going to be?” Instantly, several of them raised their phones, pointing the cameras at me. “If we don’t get the money today, this is going straight online!” Uncle Jack shoved Jenna aside, his face contorted with rage. “If you don’t pay up today, none of you are walking out of Maple Creek!” The warehouse erupted into a chaotic scene, the townspeople swarming around me, hands outstretched, demanding their money.

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After high school graduation, I finally received my acceptance letter to the United States Military Academy at West Point. It was a dream come true. But just a few days into the semester, I was reported. By my best friend. He claimed my father was a drug addict and a dealer. I was pulled out of training by the administration for an investigation. The result? Not only was I cleared, but I was also guaranteed a spot in grad school. My best friend was stunned. Yes, my father was involved with drugs. But he was an undercover cop who died a hero. Chapter 1 When the acceptance letter arrived, my mom and I hugged and cried in front of the blank tombstone at the local veterans’ cemetery. We thought it was the beginning of a new chapter. I never imagined the nightmare that would start just days after I arrived on campus. The school received a formal complaint. It claimed my father was a junkie and a trafficker, and that I had no right to wear the uniform. The complaint demanded my expulsion and a public statement denouncing me. Simultaneously, a video detailing these accusations was posted online, sparking a firestorm on social media. I was at the shooting range when it all went down. I had no idea what was happening online. Suddenly, several administrative officers surrounded me. Under the gaze of the entire battalion, I was escorted away, utterly confused. In a massive conference room, the dean, several officers, and my tactical officer sat in a row, their faces grim. Their eyes scanned me like I was already guilty. I sat opposite them, barely daring to breathe. “Cadet Liang, the academy received a formal complaint regarding your background. are you aware of this?” I froze. My blood ran cold. “What? A complaint? Against me? For what?” Questions tumbled out of my mouth. I had been a model student my entire life. Being reported was foreign to me. The dean’s eyes bore into mine. “It claims your father was a drug addict and involved in trafficking. Is this true?” I was stunned. My father was a narcotics officer. His identity remained classified even after his death. It made sense they wouldn’t know. But before I could explain, I was cut off. “Don’t bother with excuses yet. We’ve notified your family. We’ll discuss this when everyone is present.” “Also, to the admissions department: How did this slip through? West Point only accepts candidates with impeccable backgrounds. If this is true and the media gets hold of it, who takes the fall?” The admissions officer looked baffled. “Sir, Cadet Liang’s file was vetted by the state board and verified by his local precinct. Procedurally, everything is clean.” My tactical officer frowned, his tone accusatory. “Son, how many people did you bribe to get in here? Do you understand the consequences if this proves true?” I knew the gravity of the situation, but my file was clean! “Sir, I didn’t hide anything! It’s complicated, I…” He raised a hand, silencing me. “Enough. Save it. We’ll know the truth when your family and the police arrive.” Sweat beaded on my forehead. I couldn’t just blurt out that my dad was an unsung hero. When he died, I wasn’t even allowed to attend his funeral for fear of cartel retaliation. Only after every member of that syndicate was behind bars could I finally kowtow at his grave. Chapter 2 Time ticked by agonizingly slowly. The conference room was dead silent. Finally, the door opened. Five men in police uniforms walked in. The one leading them had stars on his shoulders—a high-ranking official. Behind them came my mom. She was dressed in black, holding a framed photo of my father covered in a white cloth. I stood up instinctively, fists clenched, lips pressed into a thin line. I took a few deep breaths before calling out, “Mom—” She looked up. Her eyes were swollen like walnuts. My heart broke. I rushed over and hugged her and Dad’s photo. “Mom, why did you bring Dad?” She didn’t answer. She just stroked my hair gently and nodded. Then, in a steady voice, she announced, “I am Liam Liang’s mother. I brought his father today too. If you have questions, ask.” A young officer stepped forward. “This is Chief Marshall from the State Police.” The school leadership immediately handed the complaint letter to Chief Marshall. The dean started to speak, but my mom cut him off. “Wait. Since this complaint has caused such a public uproar, clearing my son’s name must be done publicly too.” Silence from the police and officials. Taking that as consent, the school’s official social media account started a livestream as per my mom’s request. By the time everything was set up, students had gathered outside the door, and over a hundred thousand viewers had flooded the stream. Then, two more people entered. A young officer, followed by… Evan Xu. Evan grew up in my house. He was an orphan, same age as me. My mom took him in out of pity. We ate together, slept in the same room. What I had, he had. I often felt he had it worse since he had no parents at all, while I at least had Mom. So I always gave him the best of everything. Getting into West Point was our shared dream. But he choked during the SATs and missed the cut. I thought he was brought in as family for the investigation. But the young officer’s words froze me in my tracks. “Chief, the whistleblower, Evan Xu, is here.” Chapter 3 My mom and I stared in shock. “Evan… how? Why? You know about Dad…” He kept a straight face, refusing to meet our eyes. He stood before the camera, his voice trembling with a strange excitement. “Because I know too much, I can’t let you continue this charade! West Point is sacred. I won’t let a criminal’s son tarnish it!” “If I let a drug dealer’s son slip through, how could I face the heroes who sacrifice everything for us?” Murmurs erupted outside the door. “Holy crap, how big is his backing to bypass the background check?” “You can’t hide forever. See? Caught in days.” “Liam Liang really screwed himself this time. And his mom bringing the drug dealer dad’s photo? Insane.” Rage boiled inside me. I pointed a trembling finger at Evan. “Evan Xu, you ungrateful wolf! My mom raised you for years! Did she feed a dog instead of a human?” Evan didn’t flinch. He stood taller, chin up. “Don’t try to guilt-trip me. I’ll pay back every cent I cost you once I start working. But! You can’t deny your dad was a dealer! You don’t deserve to be here!” My mom looked at the boy she had loved like a son, now stabbing us in the back. She gasped for air. “Evan,” she said, voice shaking. “I know you’re hurting because you didn’t get in. But you still have me! We support you retaking the exams. We saved money for your prep courses.” “You shouldn’t ruin Liam’s future just to vent your anger!” Evan scoffed, immediately distancing himself. “First, you aren’t my mom. You aren’t even my legal guardian. Since I found out your husband was a dealer, I cut ties with your family!” “Also, did you even file the adoption papers? Officer, I seriously suspect I was trafficked!” That accusation hit my mom like a physical blow. She swayed, nearly collapsing. She couldn’t understand how Evan had become a stranger overnight. Before this, we were brothers. He swore he’d treat my mom like his own. The livestream comments were exploding. “Righteous dude! Exposing his own family! This is exactly the kind of integrity West Point needs!” “If the school covers for Liam Liang, they’re failing every other student! Punish this fraud!” “Don’t worry, kid! If the Liang family cuts you off, the internet will crowdfund your tuition!” My mom clutched her chest, gasping. I helped her into a chair. Students outside were filming with their phones. “Look, she’s faking a faint. Guilty conscience.” “Imagine sitting in class next to a drug dealer’s son. Terrifying.” “Worse, imagine him graduating and infiltrating the military. A literal cancer in the system!” The malice was suffocating. I couldn’t take it anymore. “Shut up!” I roared. Silence fell for a second, then erupted louder than before. “A dealer’s son acting tough?” “Just wait! They should lock up your whole family!” I covered my mom’s ears and screamed back at them. “This is just Evan’s word! The police haven’t charged me! Who gave you the right to judge? This is cyberbullying!” “West Point doesn’t need students who jump to conclusions without facts!” They finally quieted down. Seeing the tide turn, Evan panicked. “Stop stalling! Do you dare tell everyone I’m lying? Do you dare say your dad was clean?” Seeing his smug, vicious face, my mom couldn’t hold back. She rushed forward and slapped him. Slap! “Evan Xu, from this day on, you are nothing to us!” Evan clutched his chest, feigning heartbreak. “Don’t worry, ma’am. I was going to cut ties anyway.” Chapter 4 The situation was spiraling. Chief Marshall cleared his throat loudly. He stepped forward and whipped the white cloth off my father’s photo. Gasps filled the room. The school officials stood up reflexively. Chief Marshall looked at the photo with deep respect for a few seconds, then called Evan forward. “Evan Xu, look closely. Is this man in the photo the person you reported? Liam’s father, Daniel Liang?” Evan glanced at it and nodded vigorously. “Yes, that’s him! Daniel Liang, the drug dealer.” He was so focused on the face, he ignored the uniform my father wore in the photo. And the badge on his chest. Chief Marshall stared at Evan sternly, then spoke with authority. “Evan Xu is correct! Daniel Liang was indeed involved in drug use, trafficking, and smuggling.” The students outside, who couldn’t see the photo, erupted. The livestream chat went nuclear. “BUT—!!!” I looked at Mom. She was caressing Dad’s face in the photo, eyes red. My heart felt like it was being stabbed. Chief Marshall raised a hand for silence. “This information was classified. But a martyr’s family should not be wrongly accused!” “Officer Daniel Liang was an undercover agent.” “His true identity was a highly decorated narcotics officer. Over a decade ago, during a major operation, he was tortured and killed by the cartel!” “To infiltrate the syndicate, Officer Liang risked everything. He provided critical intelligence that led to their takedown. Tragically…” Marshall choked up. He turned away to wipe his eyes. Dead silence. For ten full minutes, not a sound. Only my mother’s sobbing echoed in the room. “Danny… oh, Danny…” I turned away, clenching my fists until my nails dug into my palms. We were a widow and an orphan, bullied by the world without cause! If my father were alive, seeing us attacked like this would break his heart. He would never have let this happen! “Impossible! Daniel Liang was a junkie! How could he be an undercover cop?” Evan shook his head, refusing to believe it. “Did they pay you off? Yes, they must have bribed you!” “No! You’re just their protection racket!” Chief Marshall’s gaze sharpened, terrifying Evan into silence. “Son, watch your mouth. As the State Police Chief, I have lived a clean life. You want to report me? Go ahead. I welcome the investigation!” “But! Daniel Liang died for this country. I will not allow you to slander him for your own selfish gain!” Marshall walked over to my mom and saluted the photo. “Ma’am, I’m sorry you and your son had to suffer this. We failed to protect a hero’s family.” I rubbed Mom’s shoulder. She wiped her tears. “The country has taken good care of us. We are grateful. If my son hadn’t been slandered, if Danny hadn’t been insulted, I wouldn’t have troubled you to come here.” Marshall waved his hand dismissively, then took off his hat and covered his face, weeping. “Don’t say that. We were so focused on protecting his identity that we left you open to attacks like this. I am ashamed.” “From now on, if you need anything, come to me. Daniel Liang gave everything. His family will not be bullied!” “We cannot let our heroes bleed and their families cry!” The students outside, hearing this, turned beet red and hung their heads. The livestream comments flipped instantly. “Guys, not to be that person, but I knew Liam and his mom looked too decent. Evan looks like a weasel.” “Where are the people who were cursing Liam? Apologize now!” “Apologize! I live near the border. We are safe because of cops like Daniel Liang! I won’t stand for his kids being bullied!” Students started whispering and pointing at Evan. His face was gray. He screamed, jumping like a cornered rat. “You hypocrites! Why didn’t you say that earlier? Just because he says he’s a martyr means he is? I lived in that house for ten years! I know the truth!” Marshall barked a reprimand, then spoke gravely. “Narcotics officers are a special category of martyr. To protect their families from retaliation, they often have unmarked graves! You lived there for ten years—did you never notice that Liam and his mother never visited a grave on Memorial Day?” “Young man, you keep doubling down on your lies. What is your true motive?” Evan’s legs gave out. “Dean, ladies and gentlemen, Officer Liang’s file is at headquarters. If anyone has doubts, get a warrant and come check. But I will not tolerate slander against his family!” My mom and I teared up. It was an honor we couldn’t speak of. We endured years of side-eyes and gossip from neighbors. Mom composed herself and addressed the dean loudly. “Dean, my son’s identity is proven. I demand the school issue a statement restoring his reputation!” The dean looked ashamed. “I am unworthy to face Officer Liang. Please rest assured, I will handle this properly. Liam will be cleared. And we promise him a guaranteed spot in our graduate program. Is that acceptable?” Mom and I exchanged a smile. “Thank you, Dean. The school was just doing its due diligence. You didn’t know.” Suddenly, a voice shouted from the crowd. “Don’t let Evan Xu get away!” Everyone’s eyes locked onto Evan. He swayed, turning red from his neck to his ears. He looked around, seeing only hatred in everyone’s eyes. He stumbled back into a corner, swallowing hard. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know.” “I just heard some neighborhood aunties gossiping. I must have misheard.” I gritted my teeth. After all this, he claimed he misheard? I looked at Marshall. “Chief, do I have the right to sue him? Not just for the damage to me, but for desecrating my father’s memory.” Marshall nodded. “Absolutely! That is your right as a citizen!” Hearing “sue,” Evan broke out in a cold sweat. His face changed instantly. “Liam, please don’t sue me. I really didn’t mean it. Forgive me, I won’t do it again. I have to take the SATs again next year. If you sue me, my life is over.” I stared at him coldly. “You say you were impulsive? I say it was premeditated!” “You’re a selfish coward. You were jealous I got in and you didn’t. The law won’t protect you.” At this point, my heart was completely cold toward my former best friend. He lived with us for over a decade. He knew our character better than anyone. He waited until school started to report me, to maximize the damage. If he succeeded, I’d lose my spot and be attacked by the internet. I might have even ended my life. The young officer patted my shoulder. “Mr. Liang, if you wish to press charges, we can detain him right now.” Evan screamed. Seeing I wouldn’t budge, he turned to my mom. “Mom! Mom! Save me! Don’t let Liam sue me.” “I don’t want to go to jail. You raised me! You know I’m not bad! I’m just young and naive. Mom, say something!” My mom looked at him with dead eyes. “Evan, did you forget what you said? I’m not your mom. I’m not even your guardian. You cut ties with us.” Evan shook his head frantically, clinging to her arm. “No, no! I was angry! It wasn’t real! You’re the adult, don’t hold a grudge against a kid. I can’t have a criminal record! I won’t be able to get into West Point!” Murmurs of disgust rippled through the crowd. “He still wants to get in here? Shameless.” “With a mind like that, he’ll never get in.” Mom peeled his fingers off her arm, one by one. “It’s too late. Consider the last ten years the price of my own stupidity. You plotted to destroy my son. If I forgive you, I’m failing him.” Evan grabbed her leg as soon as she pushed him away. Mom finally snapped. “LET GO!” Her scream startled everyone, including me. My mom was known for her gentle nature. For her to shout like that meant Evan had truly broken her heart. Evan realized no one would speak for him. He collapsed on the floor, eyes vacant. Two officers hauled him up and dragged him out in front of everyone.

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