Category: English

My son, Liam Renshaw, hated me. To him, I, Isla Ellington, was the one who took his father away. I begged him to stay and celebrate my 60th birthday with me. But he turned his back on me and left without hesitation because he was in a hurry to be with my husband’s mistress, Daisy Whitmore. What he didn’t know was that this would be my last birthday. I had cancer. The doctor said I didn’t have much time left. Liam answered a call and cast me a fleeting, indifferent glance. “I have something urgent to take care of. I need to go out for a bit.” His phone screen was still lit, and the caller’s name was clearly visible. My heart sank with a bitter smile as I watched him turn to leave. Panic surged through me, and I grabbed onto his sleeve. “Liam, today is my birthday. Just today, can you stay and celebrate with me? I’ve never asked you for anything. Just this once.” I silently prayed that he would change his mind. “Mom, stop acting like a child.” He brushed me off and was about to leave, but I refused to let go. His phone rang again, urgent, insistent. I saw the impatience flash across his face before he wrenched his arm away from me, his force stronger than he intended. I lost my balance. Stumbling backward, I crashed into the dining table, my body landing face-first into my birthday cake. The cake was topped with a bright red peach, a traditional symbol of longevity. But all I saw was a blur of red. A gasp rippled through the guests. “She’s bleeding!” Dazed, I looked down at the cake. A small decorative support, meant to hold up the peach, had pierced my skin. The blood on my face mixed with the dark red frosting, making the whole scene both ridiculous and pathetic. I heard muffled laughter. Some of the guests were struggling to hold back their amusement. “Mom, I’m sorry. I’ll have Zane take care of you. But Daisy needs me more right now.” And just like that, Liam walked away without looking back.

After tending to the wound on my forehead, the last of the guests finally left. Then my phone buzzed a text from an unknown number. I didn’t need to check. I already knew who it was from. [So what if it’s your 60th birthday? Your husband couldn’t win against me. Your son couldn’t either. One phone call from me, and Liam abandons you without a second thought. What do you have to fight me with?] I let out a bitter laugh. I should be used to this by now. A sharp pang of hunger reminded me that I hadn’t eaten all day. I picked up my forks and stared at the lavish feast before me. But my appetite was gone. Tears welled in my eyes because every dish on this table was something I hated. Yet, they were all carefully chosen favorites of another woman. A woman my son and my husband’s mother, Nova Renshaw, regarded as family. The same woman who had been my husband’s mistress. “Why aren’t you back yet? Daisy has acute gastroenteritis and is in the hospital. She specifically asked for your chicken soup. Do you think you’re some kind of big deal just because it’s your birthday? You’re not dead yet!” The voice belonged to Nova. She was in her eighties, yet still as sharp and overbearing as ever. I let out a quiet scoff. So that was Daisy’s excuse to drag Liam back to her side. Did they even stop to consider how absurd it was? How could someone with acute gastroenteritis still crave chicken soup in the middle of the night? “I’m not going. Find someone else to take care of her. And don’t call me again.” Nova was perfectly fine. I was the one who was dying of stomach cancer, with one month left at most. This world had its own sense of justice. It punished those who didn’t take care of themselves. “You ungrateful wretch! Have you forgotten who held this family together when we were struggling the most? Have you forgotten that it was you who killed my son? It should’ve been you who died back then!” Nova’s voice was sharp and relentless, hurling accusations at me over the phone. These words had weighed on me for decades, pressing down so hard that I could barely breathe. But none of it mattered anymore. I was dying. And I still didn’t understand. My husband was the one who cheated. He was the one who got exposed and humiliated by his enemies. He was the one who chose to end his life rather than face the consequences. Yet, somehow, the world blamed me. Nova blamed me for his son’s death. Liam resented me for taking his father away. Even Daisy, the mistress, found joy in crushing me under her heel. And yet, to both Nova and Liam, Daisy was the one they called family. “She’s gotten worse because of you! If you don’t bring that soup to the hospital before sunrise, pack your things and leave. Liam is grown now. This family doesn’t need you anymore.”

I calmly hung up the phone. Before long, it rang again. Feeling exhausted, I simply turned it off. My stomach started aching again. Maybe it was because I hadn’t eaten. I found a can of instant food in the corner of the room and took a desperate bite. But before I could swallow, nausea overtook me. I rushed to the bathroom and threw up. The toilet was streaked with blood. I let out a bitter laugh and shook my head. At first, I thought it was just a stomach problem. Ever since the father of my child passed away, I have been working on construction sites, shoveling dirt, and moving from one site to another. I hadn’t had a proper meal in years. Sometimes, to save money, I simply didn’t eat. When hunger became unbearable, I’d stand by a faucet and fill my stomach with water. If I had known better, I would have treated myself a little kinder. Maybe at least I bought myself a sandwich. I still wanted to live. But the pain in my stomach kept me up all night. I endured until morning, then took my medical records and headed to the hospital for a follow-up. And that was when I ran into the last person I wanted to see. Nova was in the hallway, pushing Daisy into a wheelchair. Not long after, Liam walked over, holding a medical report, his expression light and relaxed. The three of them chatted in hushed voices, occasionally laughing. They must have been celebrating Daisy’s recovery. I thought, “What a happy family.” If Nova hadn’t noticed me, pointed at me, and started yelling while striding over, it would have been a peaceful scene. “Now you’re scared? Coming here now? Too late. This family doesn’t need you anymore. Get lost!” Ignoring the surprised looks from passersby, I pushed past Nova. I just wanted to go home and rest. Nova’s eyes widened in disbelief. Realizing I was completely ignoring her, she flew into a rage. “Are you deaf? I’m talking to you! Since you’re here, it’s perfect timing. Daisy’s getting discharged today. Liam went to get the car. You, carry Daisy to the hospital entrance!” “Oh no, that’s too much trouble. I can do it myself. No need for her to do this,” Daisy said, struggling to get up with the help of the armrests. But before she could straighten herself, she lost her strength and collapsed back into the chair. Her forehead was slick with sweat from the effort. She clutched her stomach in pain but still gritted her teeth, forcing herself to endure. Nova immediately leaned down, fussing over her with concern. I couldn’t be bothered to play along with their act. Without a word, I walked past them. My stomach twisted with pain. Nova panicked. Seeing how I kept disregarding her, she rushed forward in small, quick steps and grabbed my arm forcefully. My arm ached. My stomach ached. My whole body ached. Frustration swelled in me. I just wanted to get away. By the time I snapped back to reality, Nova was already on the floor, wailing dramatically. Liam’s eyes burned with fury as he glared at me. Daisy watched with a smug expression as if enjoying the show. “The only reason I ever called you Mom was because you raised me,” Liam said coldly. “But if you think that gives you the right to walk all over everyone, then I’d rather not have a mother at all!” I thought those words would hurt. But honestly, I didn’t care anymore. “Alright,” I said. “What did you just say?” Liam stared at me in disbelief. I looked at him carefully, the son I had struggled to raise. He was much taller than me now. His sharp features resembled his father’s. He wore an expensive suit, a sign of his success in the business world. I reached out, wanting to touch his face. Liam flinched away instantly, his disgust plain as day. “Liam, I don’t want to be your mother anymore either,” I said quietly. “I’m tired. Let’s cut ties.” Liam was too stunned to respond. He just stood there, staring at me. Nova had even forgotten to fake her pain, frozen in shock. Daisy was momentarily taken aback but quickly recovered. She smirked and said, “Oh, don’t listen to Isla’s nonsense. She’s just mad about last night’s birthday party. Liam, go and talk some sense into her.” Liam came back to his senses and sneered, “God, you’re always so dramatic.” “You’ve lost your mind,” Nova snapped. “I’m still alive, and you think you can just do whatever you want? Well…” She stormed up and grabbed my collar. People around us started whispering, pointing at me like I was some kind of spectacle. I felt dizzy. My vision blurred. “If I carry Daisy out, will you all finally leave me alone?” Nova’s eyes gleamed with calculation. “That’s right. As long as you do as I say, I’ll forgive you for what happened today!” “Oh no, how could that be.” Daisy covered her mouth and giggled smugly while Liam stood to the side, his expression cold and unreadable. I stepped forward and struggled to lift Daisy from the wheelchair onto my back. Afraid of falling, she finally stopped making a fuss. I staggered toward the hospital doors, my legs barely holding up under the weight. Liam seemed uneasy. He stepped forward, ready to take over, but Nova grabbed his arm. “Leave her be. Think about what she did and said today. If she doesn’t get a little punishment, she’ll be impossible to deal with.” Liam’s face darkened. After a moment of silence, he took a step back. His car was parked not far away, yet it felt like miles to me. I forced one foot in front of the other, dragging myself toward it. Sweat dripped onto the floor, and the pain in my stomach grew sharper. I bit down hard on my lip, swallowing back any sound of pain. I thought, “So heavy. So painful. Just like the weight I’ve carried on my shoulders all these years.” But at least it was almost over. After hearing today that treatment was hopeless, all I felt was relief. I finally got Daisy into the car before collapsing onto the ground, completely drained. Clenching my fist, I pressed it hard against my stomach, trying to dull the pain. “Ignore her. She’s just putting on an act.” The car lingered beside me for a moment before driving away. “Are you okay? We can help you to the infirmary,” a passerby offered. I refused their kindness, propping myself against the wall as I slowly walked away. I didn’t go home. Instead, I checked into a small motel nearby, where my luggage was already neatly packed in the corner. After sending out a pre-written text, I switched my phone to silent and fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow.

Perhaps it was because I was too exhausted. Or maybe I was dying. I dreamed of many things from the past. When Jaxon was still alive, we had a brief period of happiness. He was a teacher at the school, and I was just a factory worker. But he said he loved my smile, and despite his parents’ objections, he married me. There were some rough patches along the way, but I always believed we were a happy family. Then came that day. I was at work when my supervisor suddenly approved my leave. The principal of Jaxon’s school came to pick me up in person. At the police station, I saw him covered by a white sheet. I hadn’t even had time to process his death when the officer hit me with an even more shocking truth. Jaxon had taken his own life to escape punishment. Someone exposed his affair with a female student, and he was about to be fired. Ashamed, he chose to end it all by jumping into the sea. His suicide note was filled with apologies to me. But in the end, all he left behind was a mountain of debt. Because he took his own life and had already been dismissed, the school gave us nothing. Nova was convinced I had known all along. She was sure I had pushed him to the edge. Those days were a blur. My mind was a chaotic mess. But reality didn’t wait for me to grieve. The electricity and water at home were cut off. The school dormitory gave us one month to move out. Jaxon was gone, but life had to go on. I quit my job at the factory and picked up a hoe to join the ranks of migrant laborers. I fought for work, once even arguing with a man who had a mental disability. In the heat of the moment, he swung his hoe and struck me on the head. Even with my head wrapped in gauze, I still had to work. The wound never healed properly, leaving behind an ugly, raised scar. But even in hardship, there were moments of warmth. When I came home, Liam would bring me a basin of warm water to soak my feet. He would gently touch the cracks on my hands, blowing on them as if to ease the pain. “Mom, when I grow up, you won’t have to work so hard anymore.” I smiled and nodded. “Okay.” Liam helped with whatever chores he could manage. Nova, despite her complaints, understood the weight I carried. One day, I returned home to find Liam and Nova holding a tiny birthday cake, no bigger than a palm. He was smiling and saying sweet words. The frosting had already started melting. But that night, we shared it, laughing and celebrating together. Then Daisy appeared, and everything started to change.

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I Died Three Years Ago, But My Husband Wants to Marry His First Love Three years after my death, my husband was preparing to marry his terminally ill first love. He came to my house and asked my mother to sign the divorce papers. My mom told him I was already dead. But my husband impatiently retorted: “What nonsense is this? She’s still playing these childish games!” “Olivia is dying. What’s wrong with me wanting to be with her in her final days? Why is Emily being so selfish?!” “Tell her if she doesn’t come out, I’ll cut off your medical expenses, old woman!” He was trying to use me to force my mother to reveal my whereabouts. Little did he know, my mother had already given up on treatment long ago. She was holding on only to see my husband’s regret. Three years after my death, Jack finally remembered me. But now he was a celebrated business tycoon, while I was just a cursed spirit, unable to move on. He stood at my family’s doorstep, scanning the empty room, and coldly said to my mother, “Tell Emily to get out here!” My mother’s frail body trembled as she replied numbly, “My daughter is dead.” Hearing this, Jack sneered, “Dead? How could someone as selfish as Emily possibly die?” “I get it now. It’s because Olivia is terminally ill and I want to be with her, so Emily’s putting on this act?” He laughed coldly and barged in, searching every room. But he couldn’t find any trace of me. My mother said, “Emily really is dead. If you want to find her, go look in her grave.” Jack’s face darkened. “You think these tactics will work? Let me tell you, if your daughter doesn’t come out and divorce me, don’t blame me for cutting off your medical expenses, old woman!” Seeing my mom remain silent, Jack laughed angrily and threw down the divorce papers: “Stubborn, aren’t you? But it’s useless.” “Make her sign within three days, then contact me immediately to finalize the divorce at the registry office. If you can’t do that…” At this point, Jack’s eyes showed a coldness I’d never seen before, “You might as well be dead.” He slammed the door as he left, leaving my heart in pieces. To divorce me, he would even threaten my mother’s life. But in my mother’s eyes, I saw a tenderness I’d never witnessed before. She calmly watched Jack leave, then turned and took out my childhood photos from a drawer. As she caressed my young face in the picture, I heard her whisper, “Emily, dear, Mommy will be with you soon.”

Naturally, I couldn’t divorce Jack. As expected, a few days later, he cut off all of my mother’s medical expenses. My mom was elderly with serious heart problems, along with high blood pressure, diabetes, and various other ailments. With continued treatment, there was still hope for improvement. But only I knew that three years ago, my mom had stopped using Jack’s money entirely. And her illness had already progressed beyond hope. Mom had wanted to join me long ago, but she couldn’t let go. She couldn’t bear the thought of her daughter, who had given her whole heart, being abandoned and trampled upon. So, until the moment Jack showed regret, she was determined to keep living in this world. A week passed, and my mom showed no signs of backing down. Jack finally lost his patience. He called my mom and sneered, “Your daughter is really heartless, isn’t she? To avoid divorcing me, she’s even using you in this ploy.” “I’m warning you, even if you die, I won’t feel an ounce of sympathy! Tell Emily to sign the divorce papers obediently!” My mother looked at my photo in her arms, her fingers digging into her palms, “Jack, I’ve already told you, my daughter is dead.” Jack scoffed, “Looks like you’re asking for trouble. You think your daughter can hide from my search? If she won’t come out, I’ll find her myself!” A bitterness spread through my heart. You want to find me, Jack? I really wish you could find me. But I hope you won’t regret it when you do. Just then, a weak female voice came through the phone, accompanied by some coughing, “Jack, dear, is there any news about Emily?” “Is she angry? Does she want to wait for me to die?” Jack quickly put down the phone to comfort her, “Rest easy, don’t worry. I’ll definitely divorce her and marry you.” But Olivia shook her head, her voice choked with emotion, “I know Emily must feel wronged and probably resents me now. I understand. I’m not trying to steal you from her, I just want you to be with me in my final days.” Her words were full of sincerity, but every sentence pointed the blame at me. As if I were the homewrecker. And I knew that Jack would never take my side. “Olivia, how could you think that? I love you. What right does Emily have to compete with you? Don’t worry, even if I have to search to the ends of the earth, I’ll dig up her bones to sign the divorce papers.” He seemed to deliberately raise his voice, making sure my mother could hear on the other end of the line, before hanging up abruptly. Listening to the dial tone, I could feel my mother’s heart turning to ice. She struggled to her feet, wiping away a tear. With a smile, she said, “It’s alright, daughter. Mommy will be with you soon.”

To find me, Jack mobilized all his connections in the city. I laughed bitterly to myself. This was probably the most attention I’d ever received from him. But it was useless. I watched as he turned the city upside down, even filing a missing persons report with the police, only to be told there was no record of me. Before I died, my mother had transferred my household registration to our hometown. I no longer had any official ties to this city. In his office, Jack flew into a rage. “Useless idiots! You can’t even find one person! Have you all been eating dog food?” His secretary stood trembling nearby, finally mustering the courage to speak, “Mr. Zhao, we’ve looked everywhere possible. Miss Emily is no longer in the city.” “Her mother is still here, where else could she have gone? She couldn’t survive without me and this city!” Jack furiously swept everything off his desk. Watching his self-important display, I couldn’t help but smirk. So he always saw me as a parasite in their family. No wonder he looked down on me and my mother. “Perhaps… we could check the hospitals. Miss Emily was hospitalized after a car accident three years ago. There should still be records,” the secretary suggested quietly. Jack’s mind cleared for a moment, but he quickly realized something was off. “Hospitalized? When was Emily in a car accident? Why don’t I know about this?” The secretary was about to continue when Jack’s phone rang. “Jack, my heart feels uncomfortable. I think I’m having a rejection episode. Can you come see me?” Olivia’s voice was urgent and helpless, and Jack’s heart melted. He immediately dropped everything, sending the secretary to investigate my situation, and rushed to Olivia’s side. My eyes stung with unshed tears. Once upon a time, Jack and I had shared such loving moments too. But now, none of that belonged to me anymore. Perhaps these things were never meant to be mine, and I shouldn’t have coveted them. In truth, Olivia had my heart. After three years in her body, it had likely adapted to its new host and wouldn’t have any rejection episodes. She just didn’t want Jack to be distracted by my affairs, taking away the love that belonged solely to her. Jack hurried to the hospital, and hearing from the doctor that Olivia was fine, he breathed a sigh of relief. Olivia’s eyes lit up when she saw Jack, “Jack, you’re here.” Seeing Olivia in good spirits, Jack realized she wasn’t in any real danger. He had been irritable lately due to not being able to find me, and Olivia’s constant demands were starting to grate on him. He couldn’t help but feel a bit annoyed. “Next time, if it’s not serious, it’s better to check with the doctor first.” His tone was still restrained, but the displeasure was evident. Olivia was stunned for a moment, but quickly put on a tearful expression, “Jack, I was just so bored in the hospital and missed you terribly. You’ve been so focused on finding Emily lately, you rarely come to see me.” “I don’t have many years left to live. I just wanted to see you as much as possible while I’m still alive.” This tactic always worked on Jack. He immediately felt guilty, “I’m sorry for not considering your feelings. I’ve let you suffer alone in the hospital.” “It’s all Emily’s fault. Even at this point, she’s still playing hide-and-seek. She’s completely heartless!” I smiled wryly. I truly was heartless. My heart had been given to Olivia three years ago. Finally, Jack’s secretary found my hospital records from three years ago. [Emily Johnson, female, 27 years old, died from injuries sustained in a car accident despite resuscitation attempts.] When he submitted this information to Jack, Jack’s entire body began to shake.

He flipped through the pages with bloodshot eyes, refusing to accept the reality. “This is all nonsense! It must be fabricated by the hospital!” Like a madman, he tore the documents to shreds, but the news of Emily’s death in a car accident was already deeply etched in his mind, impossible to erase. “How could this happen? Why did I never know about her car accident?” Jack tightly gripped his secretary’s collar, shaking him violently, “Why didn’t anyone tell me?!” The secretary reluctantly informed him, “Miss Emily was already on the brink of death when she was brought to the hospital. That day, you were busy preparing blood supplies for Miss Olivia. The hospital called you several times, but you didn’t answer any of them.” “The hospital said that due to a lack of suitable blood, Miss Emily died from excessive blood loss.” “How could there be no suitable blood source?! Doesn’t the hospital have a huge blood bank? Did they feed it all to dogs?!” Jack shouted angrily. The secretary could only reveal the cruel truth to him, “Miss Emily and Miss Olivia both have Rh-negative blood. You had taken all the Rh-negative blood from the hospital’s blood bank, so there was no blood available for Miss Emily. She could only wait for death.” Jack’s pupils constricted sharply. He painfully covered his ears and curled up on the ground, “How could this happen?!” “I didn’t mean to take all the blood from the bank. I didn’t know Emily had been in an accident that day. I didn’t mean to take all the blood! I didn’t!” The secretary sighed, “Mr. Zhao, what’s done is done. Please try to accept it and grieve.” He was about to help Jack up when Jack suddenly stood up as if remembering something. “Emily’s mother! She knew everything! It was her! She deliberately concealed it from me! You’re all lying to me. Emily can’t be dead. I must confront her!” Jack’s frenzied state made me feel both unfamiliar and amused. I never thought that one day, my death would drive him to this state. But even at the moment when the truth was revealed, he was still constantly shifting blame. Truly beyond help. Jack found my mother in our hometown. In the vast countryside, my mother had built a grave for me with her own hands. She was piously burning incense for me when Jack violently interrupted, knocking the incense from her hands. He stared in disbelief at my memorial tablet, angrily questioning my mother, “What are you doing?! Tell me what you’re doing?!” My mother ignored his shouting and calmly picked up the broken incense, placing it back in the incense burner in front of my grave. She spoke evenly, “Can’t you see?” “I’m burning incense for my dead daughter – your wife, Emily.”

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I was reborn on the day my sister and I were adopted. She eagerly chose to go home with the wealthiest couple in the city, ready to live out her lifelong fantasy of becoming a billionaire’s daughter. Of course, I supported her choice. After all, in my previous life, I was the one who became the wealthy heiress. And only I knew the darkness and decay hidden beneath the glamorous façade of that life. So, Peyton Monroe, are you ready for what’s coming? My sister and I were sent to an orphanage when we were six years old. We spent two years there before being placed with prospective adoptive families. The couple who came to adopt me looked plain and ordinary, while the couple taking my sister were dressed to impress—polished, glamorous, and full of charm. She thought she’d won the jackpot, that she’d been chosen by a wealthy, powerful family. What she didn’t know was that her new parents were nothing more than shallow influencers, obsessed with fame and appearances. They adopted her purely for the attention, with no intention of truly being parents. My adoptive parents, on the other hand, turned out to be the richest couple in Larkspur City, traveling incognito to avoid drawing attention. They brought me home, changed my name, and spent millions on my education, hiring the best piano instructors to teach me. It was around that time that my sister’s attitude toward me started to change. She envied me for leaving the orphanage and becoming a billionaire’s daughter. She envied me for gaining fame as a piano prodigy at just thirteen, for winning international awards at fifteen, and for standing on the world’s grandest stages at eighteen during my global tours. She used to say, over and over: “The Sinclairs wanted me, not you. You stole my life.” She told herself this lie so many times that she eventually believed it. She conveniently forgot that she had turned down the Sinclairs because she thought they looked too ordinary. She chose her fate. But the seed of jealousy planted in her heart grew, until it fully consumed her when I turned twenty. That’s when she killed me. It was the night of my national tour’s finale. I had just stepped out of the airport when a truck veered off course and slammed into me. The truck didn’t stop. It kept going, running over me again and again until I died. My soul floated above, watching my crushed body and the twisted, hate-filled expression on my sister’s face as she sat in the driver’s seat of the truck. “You deserve this,” she hissed. “You stole my life. You deserve to die.” In that moment, I felt a bitter mix of emotions. She had never reflected on her own choices, never taken responsibility for her life. Even after killing her own sister, she refused to admit that her misfortune was the result of her own decisions and constant blame-shifting. Meanwhile, I, who had fought tooth and nail to survive under the control of my psychotic adoptive parents, became the victim of her jealousy and incompetence. Yes, the Sinclairs—the wealthiest couple in Larkspur City—were controlling maniacs. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day we were adopted.

My sister, Peyton, had already pushed past me and was standing in front of the Sinclairs, eagerly answering their questions. “I love music… Yes, we couldn’t afford lessons before… My sister has long, pretty fingers, but she’s completely tone-deaf.” The Sinclairs’ interest in me immediately disappeared. In my previous life, Peyton had been unimpressed with the Sinclairs’ plain clothing and had shoved me forward when they started asking questions. I had stood there awkwardly, letting them inspect my hands as they praised my “beautiful fingers.” I didn’t understand what they meant at the time. I only kept glancing at Peyton, who was chattering away with the influencer couple, completely ignoring me. I hadn’t wanted to be separated from her. But she couldn’t wait to leave me behind. This time, I made my choice. I turned my back on the Sinclairs and avoided the influencer couple altogether. Without sparing Peyton a glance, I walked over to the White family, who were preparing to leave. The Whites had originally been the ones slated to adopt one of us. Childless and longing for a family, they had spent months preparing for parenthood, learning how to provide a loving home. But when the Sinclairs showed up, their application was pushed aside. In my last life, I remembered the Whites’ disappointed expressions as they left the orphanage empty-handed. I also remembered seeing them later, in the audience at one of my piano concerts, holding flowers and clapping enthusiastically as I took the stage. “When we went to the orphanage, we’d already prepared a room for a child. Even though things didn’t work out, we were so happy to see you thriving,” they told me once. Their support had been one of my greatest motivations to keep moving forward. This time, I wasn’t going to let them leave without me. “Auntie, I love the flowers you’re holding,” I said, flashing my most genuine smile as I looked up at the younger, hopeful faces of the Whites. Their eyes sparkled with surprise and joy. Unsurprisingly, I was the one they brought home. As I left the orphanage with the Whites, I saw Peyton one last time. She was holding hands with the Sinclairs, practically skipping as they led her to a waiting taxi. The smile on her face was one of pure excitement, even brighter than the smug grin she’d worn in my last life when she mocked me for being adopted by “commoners.” At that moment, I realized something: She had also been reborn. But what she didn’t know was that her smile wouldn’t last. She’d stop smiling very soon. 2 Just like in my previous life, the day after the Sinclairs brought me home, they hosted an extravagant party to introduce their newly adopted daughter. She was now mingling effortlessly with the upper-class elites she had once dreamed of joining. Her smile was radiant, and she basked in the endless compliments from the guests. She adored the attention. This was the life she had fantasized about countless times. Draped in a luxurious princess gown, she played the part perfectly, as if she had been born into this world of wealth and grandeur. But what she didn’t see coming was what lay beyond the glitter and lights. That night, after the last guest had left, the kind and gentle mother, Evelyn Sinclair, brought her upstairs to the piano room. “Jenna, do you know what my life’s greatest dream is?” Evelyn’s tone was warm, but her gaze was distant and commanding, just as it had been in my previous life. “My greatest passion is playing the piano,” she continued, smiling down at my sister. “But due to an accident, I never achieved my dream of winning an international award. It’s my one regret in life. Can you help Mommy fulfill her dream?” Evelyn’s shadow loomed over her, swallowing her whole. My sister tilted her head, sensing something was off, but the achievements from my previous life were burned into her memory. She was desperate for that kind of glory. She smiled confidently and nodded. “Of course, Mom. Not only will I win international awards, but I’ll also do world tours. After all, I’m your daughter!” Evelyn’s smile widened as she gently stroked her hair. “I knew you were my good girl… my perfect daughter.” Her unfocused gaze lingered on my sister. But her words? They seemed meant for someone else entirely. No one knew that beneath the Sinclair mansion, deep in the basement, there was a girl who had gone completely mad. Meeting Again The next time I saw my sister was years later, in high school. By then, I had fully adjusted to my new life with the Whites. I had friends, a routine, and a peaceful existence. I had almost forgotten the suffocating days of being forced to play piano endlessly. That is, until the day my sister transferred into my class. I froze when I saw her. “What’s wrong? You don’t look happy to see me,” she said smugly, approaching me during the break. I instinctively stepped back, putting some distance between us. She didn’t seem to care. Instead, she looked me over from head to toe, clicking her tongue in mockery. “Look at you—so pathetic. Don’t try to act like you’re related to me. Stay far away from me. I don’t want to be associated with someone like you. Got it?” Her condescending tone didn’t bother me. My gaze dropped briefly to the faint red marks peeking out from under her sleeves before I looked away. “Got it. Don’t bother me, either.” To me, studying was a dream come true—something I had been denied in my previous life. Back then, Evelyn Sinclair would stroke my face with a loving smile and say, “Our baby only needs to play piano. We can afford to support you for life. You don’t need to be like those poor kids who study just to survive. You’ll always be Mommy’s precious girl. Let’s skip school, okay?” Her words, delivered with a sweet smile, were impossible to refuse. And so, my right to an education was stripped away. This time, I didn’t know what my sister had done to earn the right to attend school, but I cherished every moment I had there. I consistently ranked in the top three of my class and threw myself into extracurricular activities. In my previous life, my sister had envied my success, blinded by the reputation I built. She never understood that my achievements came at the cost of loneliness and suffocating control. But in this life, my new parents noticed my social struggles early on and proactively took me to therapy. I made progress. I became the class representative for cultural events, earned the trust and admiration of my peers, and formed genuine friendships. My sister, however, couldn’t stand any of it. By her second day in our class, news of her identity as the Sinclair family’s heiress had spread. For an entire semester, she was the center of attention, surrounded by admirers, constantly flaunting her status in front of me, hoping to provoke a reaction. She wanted to see jealousy on my face—the same envy she had felt in our previous life. But she never got what she wanted. When she showed off her luxury pen set, I focused on solving math problems. When she flaunted her new diamond hair clip, I was busy winning first place in a speech competition. When I topped the grade rankings, she bought the entire class expensive desserts, ensuring everyone fawned over her for a day. While she reveled in the shallow praise money could buy, I quietly cherished the freedom of living life on my own terms. The Talent Show We finally had to interact during the school’s annual talent show. The event was a big deal, emphasizing the school’s commitment to well-rounded education. Months of preparation went into it every year. My sister often bragged in class that she had a piano teacher who charged millions per hour and that she had performed in over a dozen recitals. She claimed that she only attended school because her parents didn’t want her to feel lonely at home. I didn’t believe a word of it. But based on popular opinion, I let her take the role of piano soloist for the show. I was curious. In my previous life, Evelyn Sinclair had forbidden me from attending school and poured all her efforts into perfecting my piano skills. What had changed this time? My sister eagerly accepted the role, confident in her abilities. She practiced constantly, surrounded by admirers. Even the school’s piano teacher couldn’t stop praising her. But to my ears, every missed note told a different story. It became clear to me that this version of the Sinclairs was hiding something far more intriguing.

Right before the talent show, my sister, Peyton, came to find me. That day, she walked through the campus like a swan among ducks, surrounded by classmates who had been charmed by her money and fawned over her status as the Sinclair family’s heiress. When she saw me walking with my desk mate, it seemed she had conveniently forgotten her previous command to “stay away from me.” The first thing out of her mouth was: “Are you jealous of me?” I looked at her, confused. She wasted no time listing all the supposed ways we were different. “Your dad is just some low-level office worker. Your mom runs a tiny flower shop. Your family’s entire annual income couldn’t even cover one hour of my piano lessons. That bike you ride home? It wouldn’t even pay for a single scratch on my Maybach. And now, just because you got first place on one test, you think you’re too good to even speak to me? If it’s not jealousy, then what is it?” It wasn’t jealousy. It was disgust. It was loathing. It was contempt. I looked at Peyton quietly, my gaze lingering on the dark circles under her eyes, barely concealed by the layers of foundation she’d applied. Then, it hit me. I knew why she was here. Her piano skills weren’t as good in this life as they were in my last. She was at the bottom of the class academically, far from the shining star she thought she’d be. Even the thing she prided herself on most—her wealth—didn’t seem to impress me. And that’s why she was unraveling. In the sea of adoration she had come to expect, I was the one person who didn’t care. That drove her mad. My desk mate, Gwen, couldn’t stand it any longer. She stepped in front of me protectively, facing Peyton head-on. But Peyton shoved her to the ground. “Gwen, right?” Peyton said, her tone dripping with disdain. She tilted her chin up and smirked. “I know you’re at the bottom of the class, too. Why waste your time sucking up to someone like Eliza? She’ll only step all over your pride. Why not hang out with me instead? Here, take this.” With that, Peyton casually slipped off her Bulgari watch—a five-figure accessory—and tossed it onto Gwen’s lap. She didn’t just want to humiliate me. She wanted to take everything and everyone away from me. But Gwen wasn’t having it. Furious, she scrambled to her feet, her eyes blazing like a little lion cub. She picked up the watch between two fingers, like it was trash, and flung it aside. “My pride isn’t made of glass,” Gwen shot back. “It doesn’t shatter that easily, unlike yours. And what’s this supposed to mean, huh? You think we’re at the bottom of the class together, so you can buy me off? Or are you trying to say I’m not worth anything without your pity?” She grabbed my arm and started pulling me away, glancing over her shoulder at Peyton with a look of pure contempt. “If you’ve got the guts, take first place yourself. Eliza’s talented, kind, and smarter than you’ll ever be. So stop whining about sour grapes just because you’re a failure.” Her words hit Peyton like a slap in the face. And that’s when Peyton snapped. She lunged forward, grabbing Gwen by the collar and yanking her necklace out from under her shirt. For a moment, she froze, staring at the delicate red bunny pendant shimmering in the sunlight. Then, she slapped Gwen hard across the face. “You thief!” Peyton shrieked. “You stole my necklace, you filthy little thief!” The slap was loud and sharp, echoing across the courtyard. Everyone nearby froze, stunned by the scene. Even those who had admired Peyton’s wealth and status were shocked—none of them had expected this kind of behavior. It took Gwen a moment to process what had just happened. Then, without hesitation, she slapped Peyton back. Twice. “Are you insane? Go get your head checked. Your family’s so rich, they can’t afford a doctor to fix whatever’s broken in there?” The little bunny pendant swayed on Gwen’s chest, catching the light with a soft red glow. Peyton’s eyes filled with tears of rage. She reached out, trying to grab the necklace again. “You trash!” she screamed. “That necklace is worth three million dollars! You stole it! I’ll have you arrested—I’ll have you thrown in jail for life!” Her accusations were ridiculous. Gwen’s pendant wasn’t worth millions. It was a birthday gift from her dad when she turned twelve—something she cherished and kept hidden under her shirt most of the time. Peyton was grasping at straws, trying to turn the situation to her advantage. I’d had enough. I grabbed Peyton’s wrist before she could touch Gwen again. “Peyton, that’s enough. Whatever issues you have with me, leave them here. Don’t drag anyone else into it.” I wasn’t the same person I had been in my last life. No longer powerless, no longer unable to protect myself or those I cared about. Thanks to my adoptive mother, I’d been taking taekwondo lessons for years. My grip was strong, and Peyton quickly realized she couldn’t break free. She stopped struggling, glaring at me with her flushed, tear-streaked face. “Oh, and you,” she spat. “You’re the one behind this, aren’t you? You won’t get away with this—you’re both going to pay!” Her outburst drew a crowd, and someone called over the patrolling teachers. The teachers handed us over to the principal, who immediately summoned all three sets of parents. It was going to be a long day.

My adoptive mother, Lily White, was the first to arrive. The moment she saw me, she asked if I was hurt. Then, without hesitation, she went straight to my desk mate, Gwen, pulling out an ice pack to help with the swelling on her face. “Mr. Hughes,” she addressed the teacher firmly, “I heard everything over the phone. I do not believe for a second that my daughter or her desk mate stole anything. Have you conducted a proper investigation? Can you provide evidence that they committed theft? If not, this is defamation, plain and simple.” Lily White may have been a humble florist, but when it came to me, she was fierce and unyielding. Back in elementary school, when I was still struggling with my communication issues, my classmates often bullied me. The moment my mother found out, she marched straight to the school, demanding accountability. By the end of it, not only did the bullies apologize, but their parents did too. Now, seeing Gwen injured, she stood in front of us like a mother hen protecting her chicks. The principal, however, didn’t take her seriously. He smirked condescendingly and said, “Mrs. White, I think you need to understand the situation. The person accusing your daughter is the Sinclair family’s eldest daughter—the heiress to the wealthiest family in Oakridge. This necklace is worth three million dollars. She has no reason to falsely accuse your daughter or her friend. If anything, it’s your responsibility as a parent to teach your child to own up to their mistakes. If you don’t, this incident will be recorded in their permanent files under theft.” “My daughter did not steal anything!” my mother snapped, refusing to back down. “If you want to accuse her, show me the evidence!” Peyton, meanwhile, was lounging nearby, sipping on a fancy bubble tea she’d ordered and looking utterly bored. With a roll of her eyes, she turned toward the door and said, “Lower-class people will always be lower-class. They mess up, refuse to admit it, and just make a scene. Anyway, my dad’s on his way now. You can explain everything to him.” 9 In my previous life, my adoptive father was a pot-bellied man who liked to say that businessmen all looked like him. This time around, he looked sharper, more put-together than I remembered. Back then, he had only adopted me to satisfy Evelyn Sinclair’s controlling tendencies, so he practically ignored my existence. But this life, it was different. He treated Peyton entirely differently. For the sake of a necklace, he personally came to the school, standing by Peyton’s side and shielding her without hesitation. “If these two troublemakers aren’t expelled,” he announced loudly, “the Sinclair family will pull all its funding from this school!” The school leaders paled at the threat, clearly terrified. They wasted no time doubling down on Lily, pressuring her even harder. At the door, a crowd of students watched the scene unfold, their understanding of Peyton’s privileged position deepening with every word her father spoke. Especially when Peyton crossed the line further, demanding that I kneel before her. “Get on your knees!” my adoptive father snapped at me. “When this goes to the police station, you’ll have even more to cry about!” Lily was furious, barely able to get a word in before he cut her off. He coldly listed my parents’ workplaces—the flower shop my mother owned and my father’s small office job. He threatened to shut down the shop and have my father fired, leaving my family with nothing. That’s the power of the wealthy. Just a single sentence, and they can make life impossible for ordinary people. To him, we were nothing but ants. I felt the old bitterness from my past life bubbling up, mixing with the burning anger I felt now. I suddenly remembered the evidence I had nearly exposed in my last life—proof that could have toppled the Sinclair family empire. I had come so close to freeing myself from their control, only to be sabotaged by Peyton at the last moment. In this life, I had planned to stay far away from them, to live a quiet, peaceful life. But now they had pushed me too far. At that moment, my mother’s warm hand rested on mine. “My dear,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “If you didn’t do it, then you didn’t do it. I trust you. We won’t bow down to them.” Gwen, standing beside us, handed Lily her phone back after borrowing it. “It’s fine,” she said. “The necklace was a gift from my dad. And he just texted me—he’s already outside the school.” Among the crowd of students watching from the doorway, some of my dormmates recognized the necklace Gwen was wearing. They knew exactly what had happened and decided to go to Peyton’s desk to search for the box her so-called necklace came in. If the necklace existed, the box should be there too. If not, her story was a complete lie. But before they could move, one of Peyton’s lackeys visibly paled, their expression giving everything away.

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After the video in which the imposter daughter, Evelyn Anderson, framed me was exposed, my parents and my fiancé, Jonas Hawkins, stood up for me and gave me love and support. With an assured mind, I handed over the evidence to them, authorizing them to manage the matter in its entirety without any reservation on my part. They told me that Evelyn had met with a fatal car accident all of a sudden right when she was being driven out of the house. And I, without a shadow of a doubt, bought the story. It wasn’t until the fifth year of my marriage that I accidentally caught sight of her, who was presumed to have perished in that car accident. She was holding a little boy in her arms while tightly clutching Jonas’ hand, saying, “Jonas, if it weren’t for my parents and you, I’m afraid I would really have been tossed in jail by that ruthless woman, Renata. Lucky for me, Mom and Dad got rid of the evidence, and they even set up a jewelry studio for me. To keep her from getting suspicious, you even sacrificed your own marriage. I really appreciate you for what you’ve done for the past five years.” With a tender gaze fixed on the little boy, Jonas softly murmured, “Just think of it as me making up for Renata’s mistakes for you. As long as you and the little one are doing okay, I can set my mind at ease.” It turned out that the family I once thought was filled with happiness was, in fact, merely an elaborate hoax jointly fabricated by my parents and Jonas. My parents, my husband, and Evelyn were the real happy family, leaving me out completely. And I was nothing more than a fool who had been deceived for five years. Be it family love or romantic love, if it was not the one and only, true kind of love that I was longing for, then I would rather let them go.

At the hospital, with his eyes filled with tenderness, Jonas took the little boy by the hand and said softly, “All these years, you’ve been living a life way more decent and easygoing than that so-called real daughter, Renata. But you gotta be careful. Don’t let her catch on.” Evelyn snuggled coyly into his embrace, murmuring with a delicate giggle, “Jonas, if it weren’t for you, I’m afraid I would really have been tossed in jail by that ruthless woman, Renata.” Jonas knitted his brows a bit, yet he didn’t shove her aside. Merely, he swiveled his head to the little lad next to him. Then he reached out to ruffle the boy’s hair and spoke up, “Forget about this. It’s all that matters that Finn is alright. In a couple of days, it’ll be his birthday party. Mark, Tess, and I will be there on time, using the excuse of coming to pay our respects to you.” Finn Hawkins had no clue what the grown-ups were chatting about. All he did was fling himself into Jonas’ arms, whining and cuddling up to him. The sweet and harmonious vibe of the family attracted numerous envious looks from passersby, including me. I was on the verge of a breakdown. Leaning helplessly against the wall at the corner, my body gradually slid down until I finally collapsed on the ground, drained of all my strength. Evelyn was never driven out of the family home, or punished, nor did she die in a car accident. In the past five years, she had been living it up, far more content and triumphant than I, the actual victim. To add insult to injury, she even bore my husband’s child. My biological parents, my husband, and every single person close to me had all been toying with my life, all because of her. The happiness I had always believed in turned out to be nothing more than a colossal deception. Consumed by a sense of utter despair, I dropped to the floor, limp and defeated. Before I knew it, I picked up the ringing cell phone. The voice of my mom, Tess Miller, came from the other end of the phone, and she said, “Renata, I heard from Bree that you went to the hospital today. You haven’t had a break in days. Hurry back and get some rest. You look awful, and it makes me worried.” Just like on ordinary days, her tone was brimming with gentleness and concern. But now that I had learned the truth, every word from her made me feel as if I was plunging into an icy abyss, and a chill ran down my spine. She didn’t actually care about my feelings. All she was worried about was that I might run into Evelyn and uncover the truth. I uttered a few words in response, letting her know that I was at the Children’s Disease Exchange Conference on the first floor. Just as I expected, she was seized with sudden panic. She quickly urged me not to move around and instructed Jonas to come to me without delay. Five minutes later, he showed up, gasping for air. His voice was laced with urgency and, far from sounding concerned, it carried an undertone of reproach as he blurted out, “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? You’ve been doing surgeries these days. It’s wearing you out. Look at you. You don’t look so good today. Don’t hang around the hospital anymore. Let me take you home and get some rest.” His eyes flitted about, and his countenance betrayed a rather conspicuous air of guilt. He grilled me and said, “There are quite a lot of acquaintances here, right? Have you bumped into any of your old classmates or friends?” I tightened my grip until my fingernails cut into my palms, the sharp pain bolstering me to muster a smile and say, “No. I just miss you. Let’s go home. Mom said she cooked up the mushroom soup.” As he heard my denial, the deep frown on his forehead instantly smoothed out. Along the way, he talked and laughed with me. His gestures were thoughtful, and his tone was tender, making it seem as if the moment when I had witnessed him cheating just now was merely an illusion. However, not a shred of love could I perceive in his eyes any longer. The seemingly perfect love I had once believed in turned out to be nothing but his means of atoning. Just how deeply must he have loved that family to be willing to stake his marriage on it?

Jonas worded it with great delicacy. “Babe, I’ve been talking with your parents these days. It’s gonna be Evelyn’s Memorial Day in a couple of days. We wanna go and pay our respects. I know she did you wrong before, but she’s gone now. Mark and Tess raised her for so many years, and she and I grew up together, you know. We’re worried that it might upset you. So we thought it’d be better if just the three of us go. You…” I interrupted, “Go ahead. I’m not going.” Upon catching sight of my surprisingly accommodating manner, he couldn’t hold back the smile on his face. He inched closer and murmured affectionately, “I just knew you were the most understanding person. You just stay home and have a rest, okay?” Without betraying a single emotion, I deftly evaded his attempt to placate me with a kiss and tossed out a perfunctory response, “We’re outside. Let’s head home now.” I averted my face, pretending to be shy. However, in my tightly clenched palm, I had pinched myself so forcefully that the skin was already a blurred mess of blood. It hurt so much… My hand was in pain, and so was my heart. Upon arriving home, I nonchalantly fabricated an excuse to get rid of Jonas before slipping into his study. My trust, given without reservation, has led him to have no defenses against me. The moment I clicked, the computer screen sprang to life, revealing a photograph of Jonas, Evelyn, and Finn, a perfect family of three. The sight of it was like a stab to my eyes, making them ache with a bitterness that seeped into my bones. The computer was password-protected. I cast my eyes downward and tapped out several numbers on the keyboard. Just as I had expected, it was the birthday of Finn. Inside the photo album were page after page of photos, all showing the family beaming with joy as they faced the camera. Jonas had even recorded every single detail of this small family meticulously. The one-month-old celebration that he and Evelyn hosted, the parents’ meetings they attended together, and countless photos of their family activities were displayed on the screen. The more I scrolled downwards, the weaker my legs felt, as if they could no longer bear my weight and were on the verge of giving way. My lips trembled uncontrollably. Shock and grief engulfed me, leaving me gasping for air. It was not merely on account of Jonas. Rather, it was also due to the other two principal figures in these pictures, my parents. Everyone had been trifling with my life and emotions just to keep Evelyn out of harm. All of a sudden, it dawned on me that each time Jonas was interviewed, he would invariably wrap up the session by saying, “I love my family.” I had mistaken it for his reserved yet genuine affection for me. Looking back now, I just found myself ridiculously wrong. The recipients of those words were never limited to me alone. Evelyn and Finn were also part of it. It turned out that this love was never one of a kind. I forced a wry smile, feeling that my heart, which was already broken into pieces, could no longer hold on. I practically stumbled my way out of the study. A slight vibration came from my phone. In the split second when I caught sight of the message, I jerked to a halt. It was from Evelyn. Evelyn: [Hey, you saw it today, right? The happy scene of our family. Jonas and your parents shelled out the cash and put in the effort to set me up with a jewelry design studio. And now I’m living it up, all comfortable and fancy. Renata, what’s the big deal that you’re the biological kid? So what if I nearly screwed you over? Anyway, you’re the one nobody loves. Tomorrow morning’s the anniversary celebration of my studio. Wanna come and see for yourself just how happy Jonas and I are?] Right at this very moment, I heard Jonas’ voice coming from behind. He said, “Renata, I have to go on a business trip tomorrow. Go to bed early and don’t stay up waiting for me.” I didn’t show up at the studio. And I simply ignored Evelyn’s sly little digs. Instead, I bribed the servants in her house. Since they were all out today, I seized the opportunity, dressed up as a newly recruited cleaner, and managed to slip into the villa where she was currently living. This was the cream of the crop among the luxury housing developments under Hawkins Group. Every inch of it screamed opulence. In the very center of the living room, a gigantic family photo was blatantly on display. There was Jonas, Evelyn, Finn, and, unbelievably, my parents, all standing in a neat row, gazing straight at the camera with beaming, blissful smiles. I barely had time to rest my eyes on it for a moment before the maid Georgia grabbed me and yanked me away. She stated. “This is the calligraphy piece Finn’s grandpa Mr. Mark Anderson himself penned when Mr. Finn Hawkins was born. And that thing over yonder, I know it looks a bit all over the place, but it was Mr. Mark Anderson, holding Mr. Finn Hawkins’ hand, patiently guiding him to write each stroke. You be extra careful when you wipe them, got it? Mr. Mark Anderson just adores these. Every single time he drops by, he’ll gaze at this for ages. Keeps going on and on about how talented Mr. Finn Hawkins is.”

Tears welled up in my eyes uncontrollably. I quietly turned my head away, not wanting anyone to notice. My dad Mark was a celebrated calligrapher. Since being reunited with the family and officially recognized as his daughter, there were times when I, in private, pleaded with him for one of his calligraphic works or paintings. But he would always turn me down with a smile, saying gently, “I haven’t written for ages. I’m all out of practice. Just forget it.” It dawned on me that it wasn’t that his skills had grown rusty. The truth was, he just wasn’t willing to create anything for me. Georgia went on. “And these sweaters, make sure you wash them in cold water. Mrs. Tess Anderson knitted every single stitch for Mr. Finn Hawkins with so much care. I heard that even her own daughter didn’t get treated like this.” I chose to remain silent and didn’t pick up on that conversation. Presumably, the bitterness inside me was so overwhelming that I had lost the ability to speak. I felt like a thief, greedily longing for the affection that slipped out from Georgia’s idle chitchat, secretly peeking at the happiness that belongs to others. Actually, Evelyn was right. I was the one who was unloved. Georgia kept on speaking, “And these photos here, they’re all of Mr. Hawkins and his family at various times. He checks them out a lot. You gotta wipe them clean real carefully, frames and all, you know.” My gaze flitted across each and every one of those photos. In every single phase of their lives, Jonas had always been there, never once missing out on the important moments. As for me, I had nothing to show for our relationship but a solitary wedding photo. It was a stark contrast to their collection of memories. When I had tentatively brought up the subject of our lack of photos together, he had merely brushed it off with the excuse that he wasn’t fond of taking pictures. A pang of bitterness welled up inside me. I bowed my head and tugged my mask up more forcefully, desperately trying to hide the tears that had already welled up and dampened my face. Before I could even pull myself together, a sound came from the doorway. Georgia looked at me and said, “Looks like they are back from the amusement park. I’d better hurry over to the kitchen and check how it goes. Alright, pick up your stuff and go get busy.” In the foyer, Finn was snuggled up in Jonas’ arms. Whatever it was that he had murmured, it had both Jonas and Evelyn doubling over with laughter. Then the nanny took Finn away to change his clothes. Hiding in the shadow of the pillars, I listened intently to the conversation between them. Evelyn uttered, “Jonas, I know that Finn’s arrival was an accident. Back then, I just couldn’t hold myself back, and, well, we had him. And you’ve been so good to us, taking care of us and staying by our side all these years. But now, he’s growing up, and I don’t want him to always have to hide like this.” Jonas wavered for quite a while. In the end, he reached out, took her hand, and gently drew her into his embrace, murmuring soothingly, “No, he won’t. Just don’t go and make a fuss in front of Renata, okay? As for the rest, I’ll sort it out. Just relax and take Finn to his birthday party. We have already cooked up some excuses. Renata won’t find out.” I was shocked in a flash. In the past, Jonas had always been harsh and stern with Evelyn. Back then, he swore his love for me with unwavering determination. When it came to Evelyn’s underhanded act of drugging him, he was full of contempt, and he saw her with intense loathing, warning her harshly not to meddle in our relationship ever again and that he didn’t want to lay eyes on her anymore. I actually believed him and opted to forgive him, pretending to be oblivious. Never did I expect that it was all nothing but deceitful lies. I couldn’t stomach staying there a moment longer. Gripping the voice recorder and mini camera in my grasp, I spun on my heel and made my way to the backyard, intending to get out of there as quickly as possible. Little did I expect that, upon emerging, I would bump into Jonas. The moment my eyes met this familiar face, a throbbing pain, dull yet intense, coursed through me, yanking at my very core and nearly causing my knees to buckle. I instinctively grabbed onto the railing at my back to steady myself, then lowered my head in a show of respect, holding my breath as I waited for him to walk past. However, after just a couple of steps, he suddenly wheeled around and came back. His eyes fixed on me, burning with scrutiny as he asked, “Are you new here? I don’t recall seeing you. Why are you wearing a mask?”

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The day after I died, my sister’s wedding went on as planned. She wore a wedding dress and married my boyfriend. My mom called several times but no one answered. She angrily cursed me as an ungrateful brat. My brother sent a message scolding me: “Are you really that petty, holding onto something from two years ago?” My usually quiet dad said coldly: “Tell her if she doesn’t come home today, we’ll act like we never had this daughter.” They didn’t really want me to come home. They just didn’t want my sister’s wedding to be imperfect without my blessings. But I was already dead. From a very young age, I knew I wasn’t liked in this family. When Mom went on a business trip, she brought back two new toys and gave them to Ryan and Emma. As she was about to leave, I stopped her and gently reminded her: “Mom, what about me?” “You want one too?” Mom frowned impatiently, “They’re expensive. I didn’t bring enough money. I didn’t count you.” I was only five years old then, but I already had a vague sense of other people’s emotions. Especially when that person was my own mother. And now. At my sister’s wedding venue, after exchanging pleasantries with some relatives, Mom walked to a corner, turned her back, and kept dialing my number over and over again. No one ever answered. On the third try, the call was directly rejected. She looked like someone had grabbed her throat, her eyes widening in disbelief: “Lily, I’m your mother!” Ryan came over and patted her back reassuringly: “Mom, don’t be angry. Lily’s not worth it. You know what she’s like.” Mom’s irritation and frustration finally found an outlet with her beloved youngest son. “Of all three of you kids, I put the most effort into Lily. When she was born, it was supposed to be boy-girl twins. Even the doctor said she stole her brother’s nutrients to survive…” This sentence, from childhood to adulthood, I had heard her repeat countless times. In the end, it would usually result in me being punished and locked in my room, watching them – a family of four – go out to relax. “Mom, don’t be upset. Don’t worry, I’ll drag her back here today even if I have to tie her up,” Ryan said, comforting Mom. He then turned and sent me several messages on SnapChat. “Lily, you’d better show up within an hour.” “How can you be so selfish? You know Mom has a weak heart, yet you still want to upset her.” “Is a man really worth holding a grudge over until today? Besides, isn’t Emma still your sister?” After sending this message, his fingers paused over the keyboard. A few seconds later, he put away his phone and turned to help greet the guests. Yeah, even he didn’t believe it himself. Emma was his good sister, Mom and Dad’s good daughter. How could she be my sister?

I floated upstairs and saw Emma sitting in the makeup room. The makeup artist was touching up her slightly smudged eye makeup. She clutched Dad’s hand, her eyes misty with tears: “Dad, is Lily really not coming? She’s my sister. On my most important day, I really hoped to have her blessing.” Dad, who had always been stern and cold towards me, patted her shoulder and said softly: “She will. I’ve asked Ryan to contact her. We won’t let you have any regrets.” He found Ryan in the hallway and said coldly: “Tell Lily if she doesn’t come today, we’ll act like we never had this daughter.” “Dad, she’s not even replying to my messages. She won’t even answer Mom’s calls,” Ryan said through gritted teeth. “I knew it. Someone like her is born heartless. She agreed to come at first just to give us hope, wanting to ruin Emma’s most important day.” Today was Emma’s most important day. She was about to walk down the aisle in her wedding dress to marry James, the man she had been dating for two years. Two years ago, when I brought James home, Emma fell in love with him at first sight. I still remember how her eyes lit up when she saw James. That night, she made an excuse to ask me out for a walk. She bought me a bubble tea and swayed her arm linked with mine: “Lily, I really like guys like James. You’re so amazing, you can definitely find someone even better. How about letting James be with me?” I refused. But not long after I returned to school, James broke up with me. I kept asking for a reason, and he probably got annoyed with me. He shook off my hand roughly. I fell to the ground, my palms scraped raw by the rough surface, stinging with pain. But he was indifferent, only looking at me with disgust. “Still trying to hide it from me? Even your family couldn’t stand it anymore and told me.” On a morning when Mom suddenly called me out to go grocery shopping with her. My brother, Ryan, pulled James aside and told him some “truths” about me. Bad character, stealing money from home, bullying classmates. Promiscuous, had an abortion in college. In the end, righteous Ryan sighed: “Lily is my sister, and I really want to side with her, but… I can’t just watch you fall into a fire pit.” My scraped palm was still stinging. I sat on the ground, looking up at James, listening to him recount what he had been told. As the last word fell, I suddenly laughed. He frowned: “Do you still want to explain something?” I shook my head and said with a smile: “They’re right about everything.” James didn’t have very deep feelings for me to begin with, let alone when the ones telling him how bad I was were my own family. My dearest, most beloved family. When I was alive, none of them cared about me. Of course, no one knew about my death either.

As we were talking, James arrived. Wearing a suit, he had styled his hair, making him look even more handsome. He kissed Emma’s cheek and asked softly: “Lily still hasn’t arrived?” Emma nodded, tears in her eyes. “Forget about her,” James’ face darkened. “Someone like that would only dirty our wedding if she came. Emma, you’re the bride today. Don’t cry over someone who doesn’t deserve it.” Emma took the opportunity to wrap her arms around his neck, looking up with a sad expression: “No matter what, Lily is still my sister.” Her expression seemed genuinely sincere. Just like three years ago, as an outstanding graduate, the school had proposed that my parents attend the graduation ceremony to say a few words on stage, which would also be convenient for the school’s promotional photos. I carefully chose my words and called home, timidly making the request. Mom agreed. But on the morning of the ceremony, she called to tell me she and Dad couldn’t make it. “Emma is sick. We’re not comfortable leaving her alone at home.” In the video call, Emma, with a slightly pale face, looked at me apologetically: “I’m sorry, Lily. I’m not feeling well… You’ve always been so independent. I’m sure you can handle things well even if Mom and Dad don’t go.” “Lily, congratulations on your graduation.” Congratulations on my graduation. How could I be happy? On the day of my graduation ceremony, I apologized to the teachers, to the college, to the staff in the activities department. As I passed by a camera, I happened to overhear someone complaining: “We’ve rehearsed the whole process, and now we have to redo everything. What a waste. And she’s supposed to be an outstanding graduate.” At the end of the ceremony, I took out my phone and saw that Emma had posted on Instagram. “It’s just a small cold, but Mom and Dad are taking such good care of me. Little happiness in life~” The photo showed the three of them together. The background was Emma’s bedroom. They hadn’t even gone to the hospital. What a severe illness indeed.

Soft piano music played in the banquet hall. Emma, wearing a long mermaid wedding dress, walked towards James holding a large bouquet of white roses. After Mom and Dad gave their speeches, it was Ryan’s turn. Standing on the stage, he jokingly waved his fist at James: “I only have one sister, and she’s the treasure of our whole family. If you dare to mistreat her, the whole family won’t let you off.” James gazed at Emma’s face, his tone deeply affectionate: “I wouldn’t dare.” Applause erupted from below. The stage was a picture of warmth. My soul stood on the flower arrangement at the edge of the stage, watching them woodenly. I thought I would feel heartbroken. But perhaps I had already experienced all the pain of a lifetime before I died. I only coldly observed all this, my heart empty and hollow, as if a wind was blowing through it. At one table, people were whispering: “Hey, I remember the Williams family has three children. Why did Ryan say he only has one sister?” “It’s because of their second daughter, Lily. Tsk, what’s the use of good grades? The most important thing in life is character…” Thanks to my parents. My bad reputation had spread far and wide among relatives on both sides. Actually, when I was young, there was an aunt who was quite nice to me. When she came to visit during New Year, she gave me a plush dolphin toy. Only I got one, neither Ryan nor Emma did. Ryan was used to getting his way. He asked me to let him play with it. When I refused, he directly cut the dolphin to pieces with scissors. Not long after, the aunt returned to pick up a scarf she had forgotten. She happened to see the pieces scattered on the floor. To protect the reputation of her beloved youngest son, Mom told the aunt: “Lily didn’t like the toy. She insisted on cutting it up with scissors, saying she didn’t want to see it.” The aunt’s expression changed immediately. After that, whenever she came to visit, she would skip me even when giving out red envelopes. After this incident, Mom probably felt a bit guilty and was nice to me for a while. But that soon faded away. In our family, Mom and Dad’s favoritism had a clear division of labor. The year Emma was born, Dad’s business had a big breakthrough. He believed Emma brought good luck, so he doted on her the most. As for Mom, she loved Ryan the most because he was the son she had longed for after having three children. As for me. I was born chubby and healthy, but my twin brother didn’t even survive 24 hours. They all thought I was unlucky. When I was young, I could never understand. Why was it that whatever Ryan and Emma wanted to eat, it would appear on the dining table the next day? But even though I was allergic to seafood, just because Emma said she wanted to eat crab on my birthday, Dad set the venue at a seafood restaurant. When I was twelve, there was an earthquake in the neighboring county. The whole family was taking an afternoon nap at home. Mom and Dad, without a second thought, each grabbed Ryan and Emma. I stumbled down the stairs, watching the shaking ceiling, crying my heart out. But no one came to save me. It was like this when I was twelve. It was the same when that driver grabbed me by the throat and dragged me into a desolate mountain forest.

In the afternoon, the wedding came to a perfect end. After seeing off the guests, Dad immediately darkened his face and told Mom to keep calling me. Emma’s eyes were red, the few rhinestones at the corner of her eyes reflecting tears. She held Dad’s hand, her tone understanding: “Let it go, Dad.” “Lily is still a child, maybe she’s just throwing a tantrum. I’m her sister after all, I shouldn’t hold it against her.” Sure enough, a trace of pity flashed in Dad’s eyes. Ryan said dissatisfied: “Sis, you’re thinking too highly of her. You treat her like a sister, but has she ever treated you like one?” Emma bit her lip, looking like she was about to cry. I stood beside them, looking at her, feeling nothing but irony. Emma was always like this. The family’s favoritism towards her was already so obvious it couldn’t be more clear, but she still felt it wasn’t enough. I knew it was because she hated me. Actually, at the very beginning, although Mom didn’t like me, she wasn’t that bad to me. On my birthday, she would bring back a cake to celebrate with me. But just as she lit the candles and I was about to make a wish, Emma suddenly cried. She wiped away her tears and smiled bravely: “It’s nothing, I just suddenly remembered that there should have been two people celebrating their birthday today.” With one sentence, Mom’s expression changed. She looked at me with a coldness I was very familiar with. She roughly pulled out the candles: “Eat, eat, eat, all you know is eating! Lily, do you know your brother died because of you? Do you have any heart?” I was scared, staring at her blankly. Mom got even angrier and directly swept the cake into the trash. After she went into the bedroom, I looked at Emma with tears in my eyes. With no one else around, she finally revealed her true emotions to me. Ten-year-old Emma, still wearing a gentle smile, spoke words as sharp as a poisoned knife. “Lily, why were you born?” She brushed her warm fingertips across my face, then suddenly pinched hard, “Originally, Mom and Dad only loved me. Now you’ve taken away their love. You should have died with your brother.” I never understood why she hated me so much. Yet after Ryan was born, she was so good to him. The year I took the college entrance exam, Ryan was about to start his last year of middle school. It was a crucial year, but Dad’s business was too busy for him to get away, and Mom was also at a critical point for a promotion. Mom demanded that I apply to a local university so I could conveniently take care of Ryan on weekdays. I didn’t agree. She looked at me with cold eyes: “Lily, don’t you know the situation at home? How can you be so inconsiderate?” After I left for college. Twenty-two-year-old Emma suddenly wanted to learn piano. Mom had someone throw away my bed and wardrobe, packing my clothes into the storage room. My bedroom became Emma’s piano room. She posted a video on Instagram of her sitting at the expensive new piano. Sunlight poured in. And she smiled serenely. I called home. Mom was still angry that I didn’t listen to her, her voice very cold: “Anyway, you’ve grown wings now and won’t listen to anything I say. You don’t plan to come back to this home, so what’s the use of keeping your room?” Emma took the phone: “Lily, don’t make Mom angry, okay? When you come home, you can sleep in my room. The family won’t leave you without a place to stay.” Even though she tried her best to hide it, there was still a hint of glee in her voice. I had only been gone for a month, and she was already eager to drive me out of this home. And Mom chose to acquiesce and indulge her.

In the afternoon, Emma went back to her new home with James. As for me, I followed behind Mom, Dad, and Ryan. Ryan was driving, with Mom and Dad in the back seat. The empty front passenger seat had always been reserved for Emma. I sat there, listening to them discussing my wrongdoings one after another. “She hates me so much, hates this family so much that she won’t even come back for her sister’s wedding.” Mom leaned tiredly on Dad’s shoulder, “I feel like I’ve really failed in my parenting.” Dad patted her comfortingly: “An ungrateful brat not worth raising, don’t waste your energy on her.” I turned my head, carefully observing their expressions. Trying to find even a trace of concern. But there was none. My sudden disappearance only made them feel annoyed and hateful. Not one person, for even a second, suspected. That maybe, something had happened to me. Even though I was just a soul, I could still cry. I cried and laughed at the same time, asking: “Mom, did you really, really ever love me?” “If you hate me so much, why did you give birth to me?” I had asked the same question a long time ago. It was when I was in my last year of middle school, a very stressful year for studying. Dad was out of town negotiating business, Ryan was still young, and Emma had just started her freshman year of college. Mom got kidney stones, and I was the one running between school and hospital every day to take care of her, losing a lot of weight. Mom seemed to be touched. That month, she gave me more pocket money than Ryan. When we met neighbors, she praised me several times, saying I was sensible and filial. When I was bullied by classmates, she even went to school to stand up for me. It seemed like everything was developing in a good direction. Until that afternoon, as we were crossing the street together, she somehow linked her arm with mine. This kind of mother-daughter intimacy was so foreign to me. I almost instinctively shook off her hand, causing her to stumble back two steps. It was just at dusk. The green light turned red. A car whooshed past us. Mom’s eyes slowly changed as she looked at me. It was a coldness I was very familiar with. She said flatly, with a straight face: “Sure enough, an ungrateful brat that can’t be raised well.” That night, I was almost consumed by regret and bewildered helplessness. I used a compass to poke several holes in my arm. Even the pain couldn’t alleviate the despair and anxiety rampaging in my heart. Finally, I walked into Mom’s room and asked her: “Mom, if you don’t love me, why did you give birth to me?” Mom closed her eyes and said nothing. But I knew she wasn’t asleep. She wouldn’t deign to answer me when I was alive. Now that I’m dead, she can’t hear me, let alone respond.

After dinner, Ryan called my phone again. This time, surprisingly, it was answered. His pent-up anger finally found an outlet: “Lily!! Are you an animal? You don’t come home for your sister’s wedding, making Mom and Dad sad. Do you think you’re so great? Is it fun to play us like this?” A moment of silence. A hoarse male voice came from the other end of the phone. “I’m her boyfriend.” “She says your whole family is quite disgusting, and she won’t come back to see you.” “Don’t call again.” The call ended. Ryan stared in disbelief, and after a moment, he suddenly kicked over a chair in a rage and cursed. But I was already stiff all over, having lost all my strength. The moment that voice sounded, I was forcibly dragged back into that memory. Before I died, I missed the last high-speed train due to overtime work. I had to take a taxi to the bus station. The driver was a young man with a pale face and a somewhat gloomy look. He seemed a bit familiar, but my brain was so exhausted that I just hugged my things and rested against the car window. At first, everything was normal. He chatted with me casually like all drivers do. At this time, Emma suddenly called. As the bride-to-be, even on the eve of her wedding, she didn’t forget to stimulate me one last time. “Lily, I’m marrying James tomorrow. I’m really a bit too excited to sleep.” She said softly, “Thank you for bringing him home.” I pressed my lips together, my voice filled with suppressed anger: “Emma, how many more times do you want to play these disgusting games, use these dirty tactics before you get tired of it?” She seemed completely oblivious. Her tone became even more light and sweet. “So it’s settled then, you must come to the wedding tomorrow, okay?” I hung up the phone, unable to help my rapid breathing, my chest heaving violently. The driver suddenly spoke: “Had a fight with your family?” I frowned and looked up, only to realize that the car had somehow been driven to a desolate wild area. My heart suddenly started racing. I forced myself to calm down and asked him: “How much do you want?” But he didn’t want money. Consecutive overtime had left me extremely tired, my limbs weak. I couldn’t escape the strength of a young man. He covered my mouth and dragged me into a small grove. The night wind was still, the moonlight falling gently. He tightly gripped my throat with one hand while slapping me hard with the other. He said, you bitch, don’t you regret leaving me now? Who do you and that rich guy think you are to look down on me? Beg for mercy, bark like a dog, and I’ll let you go. But I didn’t even know him. Who are you? Who are you? His hand suddenly loosened from my throat. He began to gently caress my face. He said, I’m your man. I always felt that he wasn’t entirely unfamiliar. But I just couldn’t remember where I had seen him before. I struggled with all my might and actually managed to reach my phone. The speed dial would call the most recent number. Ring, ring. After two rings. Emma hung up without hesitation. The man discovered what was happening. He laughed cruelly, put the phone in his pocket, then broke every finger on my right hand. In his pocket, there was also a switchblade. While I still had consciousness and sensation, I felt the blade cut into my left wrist, being slowly pulled and sawed off. The knife tip sliced open my cheek, tearing off a pitted and uneven piece of skin. He said: “Bitch, let’s see how you use this face to seduce others now.”

I don’t remember if I died from the pain or from blood loss. I only remember the wind of the wilderness that night. Howling as it blew across my exposed flesh and bones. Maybe people recall some beautiful things before they die. Vaguely, I thought of the time before I was five. To give birth to Ryan, Mom sent me to the countryside. Only my aging grandmother lived there originally. She was the kindest person to me in this world. She gave me all the warmth in my life. The tenderest buds from the tree, she would pick them, blanch them in water, and stir-fry them with eggs for me to eat. Mom called, saying Emma wanted to eat the tree buds, but they couldn’t be found in the market. Grandma said, “Oh my, there’s been too little rain this year, the buds haven’t grown out yet.” After hanging up the phone, the mischievous old lady winked at me and smiled. I always remember the taste that lingered on my tongue that night. But when I was five, Grandma passed away from illness. Ryan was only a year and a half old, so Mom was forced to bring me back home. She resented me for this. She whispered to Dad: “Is there something wrong with this child? How could she even cause her own grandmother’s death?” I looked at her woodenly. Actually, a five-year-old child doesn’t really understand life and death. I only knew that there was no one left in the world who would resolutely choose me among several people. From then on, I was the child who would never be favored. The moment my breathing stopped, my soul was pulled out of my body by the wind. I saw that man take out an axe from the trunk of the car and chop off the bones connecting my limbs. I saw the train speeding through thousands of miles under the starry sky, passing through the silent fields. I saw in one of the high-rise buildings, a little girl suddenly waking up from a nightmare, only crying out once before being hugged by her parents who rushed into the room, patting her back to comfort her. At the very end. I saw Emma yawning as she woke up, getting ready under Mom’s urging, changing into her going-out outfit. I came back. After death, I still returned to this home. I attended Emma’s wedding.

That man raped me, killed me, dismembered me, and took my phone. Ryan didn’t realize this. He just told Dad coldly: “Lily won’t even answer my call. She just had her boyfriend tell me that she finds our whole family disgusting.” Dad was furious. He slammed the table and cursed me as a beast. It seems that businessmen tend to be quite superstitious. He liked Emma because after she was born, his business developed rapidly, and his assets doubled in just two years. As for me, after I was born, his factory faced a crisis and nearly went bankrupt. So it’s understandable that he disliked me and thought I brought bad luck. Dad controlled the family’s finances. So Emma could attend a joint Sino-foreign university costing over $20,000 a year. Ryan could take tutoring classes at $100 an hour. While I, studying at a university in a first-tier city, had a monthly living allowance of just $200. For the next few days, I stayed in this house. Coldly watching them live their normal lives. Watching Mom call Emma, asking what she wanted to eat when she visited her parents after the wedding. Emma whined that she wanted seafood. When Mom went to the early market to buy it, she happened to run into our childhood neighbor, who was out shopping with her daughter, Meng Meng. Meng Meng and I were classmates from childhood to adulthood, and later we even worked at the same company. We weren’t very close friends, but at least we were quite familiar with each other. Mom enviously said: “Raising a daughter like Meng Meng is really heartwarming. She comes back and helps you buy and carry groceries. Unlike our inconsiderate Lily, who won’t even come home for her sister’s wedding, and even finds a boyfriend to scold us.” “Huh?” Meng Meng was a bit surprised, “Auntie, Lily doesn’t have a boyfriend.” Mom was stunned for a moment, looking at her. “She’s in the marketing department of the neighboring company, always so busy. Where would she find time for a boyfriend?” She said, “And Lily cares about you a lot. Last month when she got her bonus, we went shopping, and she bought a gold bracelet, saying she’d give it to you when she came home for her sister’s wedding.” A bewildered expression flashed across Mom’s face for just a moment, quickly fading back into the cold mockery I was familiar with. She said: “Lily just acts nice in front of others. You don’t know how she treats us at home.” Seeing this, Meng Meng and her mother couldn’t say anything more and politely said goodbye. Mom bought a lot of seafood that Emma loved and carried two big bags of groceries home. Standing at the door, she took out her keys to open it. Her phone rang. It was my number. “Is this Mrs. Lily’ mom? We’ve arrested a suspect in a series of brutal serial killings. We found this phone on him, and judging by the contacts, you should be the phone owner’s mother.” “The suspect has already confessed to the burial location. Could you and your family come to our City?”

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After the breakup, I returned home to pack up my belongings. The person who opened the door wasn’t Aria, but a young man I didn’t recognize. He was wearing loose-fitting loungewear, and the scent of shower gel lingered on him. Anyone could tell at a glance that he was the owner of this place. He paused for a moment, a flash of understanding crossing his eyes, but he still pretended to be confused and asked, “Excuse me, who are you? Is there something I can help you with?” “I’m here to collect my things,” I replied, unable to suppress a sigh as the words left my mouth. This place was once the shared home of Aria and me, our cozy little nest where we lived together. I never imagined that right after our breakup, she would be so eager to bring another man home, and he would greet me as if he were the rightful owner. “Didn’t Aria tell you I was coming to pack up my stuff today?” I asked. Hearing my words, the man finally put on an act of sudden realization, “Oh, so you must be Mr. Liam?” He smiled slightly, his words laced with sarcasm, “Aria’s memory hasn’t been great since she woke up. It’s understandable that she might forget some unimportant things.” I nodded silently and walked past him into the apartment. Suddenly, I heard a familiar voice: “This might have been your home once, but it’s not anymore.” I turned to see Aria standing with her arms crossed, looking at me coldly. “Mr. Liam, although I’ve forgotten many things, I hope you can be sensible.” “When you’re packing, don’t take anything that doesn’t belong to you.” Her face was impassive, as if she had truly lost her memory. But I knew that all of this was just an act. Why did it have to be like this? If she no longer had feelings for me, she could have simply said she wanted to break up. I would have left gracefully, never to bother her again. Why pretend to have amnesia, making everything so awkward? This wasn’t just insulting me; it was trampling on the beautiful memories we once shared… I swallowed the bitterness in my heart and replied briefly, “I don’t have a habit of stealing.” With that, I walked into the bedroom and started packing my suitcase. Aria and her new boyfriend stood nearby, watching me like supervisors. They flirted and joked around from time to time, just as she used to do with me. She used to love cuddling in my arms, acting coy, as if she wanted to melt into me. Now, these intimate gestures were directed at someone else. I didn’t have many possessions – just a few clothes and some daily necessities. I finished packing quickly. Standing up, I said to Aria, “Miss Aria, do you want to check?” “You’d better make sure now whether I’ve stolen anything of yours or not.” She didn’t answer, just waved her hand, gesturing for me to leave quickly. I picked up my suitcase and walked straight out of the apartment. The cold door slammed shut behind me. I took a deep breath, my eyes stinging a little. If it weren’t for those memories, perhaps I would feel a bit better. I took out my phone, hesitated for a moment, and finally dialed the doctor’s number. “I’ve made up my mind. I’ll come to the hospital soon to discuss the surgery plan…” “It doesn’t matter if I lose my memory.” “I don’t have any important memories worth keeping anymore.” Due to the presence of a brain tumor, I often suffered from headaches. Originally, I had planned to keep this secret to myself, not letting anyone know. Even Aria, I didn’t intend to tell her. Because the doctor told me that although the tumor was currently benign, there was a potential risk of it becoming malignant. Early removal surgery was the best course of action, but— Since the tumor was adjacent to nerves, the surgery carried some risks. It could potentially lead to partial memory loss after the operation, and whether recovery was possible remained uncertain. In the past, I viewed my memories as treasures, fearing to forget even the smallest important moments and people in my life. But after breaking up with Aria, this worry seemed to gradually dissipate, as I felt I had nothing left to cherish. She was willing to fabricate lies to push me away, to deny the beautiful moments between us. So why should I stubbornly hold onto them? I went to the hospital and confirmed the details of the surgery plan with the doctor. The next practical issue I faced was raising funds for the surgery. I was an art student, majoring in fine arts, and had dabbled in photography after graduation. With these skills, my life was relatively comfortable, but the high cost of living in New York City meant I hadn’t been able to save much in two years. Just as I was leaving the hospital, at a loss about how to fund the surgery, a familiar voice softly called out, “Liam?” I turned around to see Aria not far away, along with her current boyfriend, Jack. I nodded slightly in greeting, then prepared to leave. But Aria pursued, asking, “Are you feeling unwell?” I frowned slightly, casually brushing it off, “It’s nothing, just a routine check-up.” Aria stared at me, her eyes a mix of concern and confusion. She seemed to want to say something but closed her mouth instead. Huh… Wasn’t she pretending to have amnesia? What act is she putting on now? Jack, sensing something amiss, interjected, “Aria, I told you it was just a minor cold, yet you took half a day off work to worry.” His words seemed apologetic but were actually boastful. See, she cares so much about my little cold that she took time off work to accompany me. And you? All alone, how pitiful! I found their behavior both childish and tiresome, and couldn’t be bothered to engage. As another headache struck, I didn’t want to show weakness in front of Aria, so I turned to leave. Unexpectedly, Jack approached me, asking, “Mr. Liam, you don’t look well.” “Aria was planning to make some health supplements for me. Why don’t you join us for dinner at our place?” I was quite surprised and involuntarily glanced at Aria. We had lived together, so of course I knew she could cook, though I had never tasted her cooking. “No need,” I said, starting to walk away before I had finished speaking. “Don’t be so polite,” Jack persisted, trying to show off further. He grabbed my hand and said, “Where are you headed? How about letting Aria drive you?” “I’m like family to her now, she’ll listen to me. Don’t feel shy, just ask for what you want.” The headache made me increasingly irritable. I yanked my hand away abruptly, “I said, I don’t need it.” I barely used any force, but Jack stumbled and fell to the ground. He frowned, looking somewhat angry, “Mr. Liam, I kindly invited you to dinner and offered you a ride. It’s fine if you refuse, but why did you have to get physical?” His boasting was so obvious, his intentions clear as day! I couldn’t believe a grown man could be so shameless! “What are you doing?!” Aria approached, her face cold as she questioned me. “I didn’t push him!” I stood my ground, refusing to admit fault. Hearing this, Aria’s expression darkened further, “Are you saying Jack fell on his own?” Even if that was the truth, who would believe it? I could see a glimmer of sly satisfaction in Jack’s eyes. “Apologize!” Aria commanded me, “You should know the consequences of offending me…” “I am the heiress of the Aria family, if I make a move…” As the heiress of the Aria family, Aria had enough background and power to make it impossible for me to survive in New York City. Around us, many passersby had stopped to watch. “This guy seems quite ungrateful, doesn’t he? They kindly invited him, and not only was his attitude terrible, but he even got physical?” “What a loser, disgusting!” “Hmph… I bet this guy doesn’t have many friends. Is he jealous of the happy couple?” Faced with the crowd’s condemnation, I clenched my fists helplessly. Jack got up from the ground, holding Aria’s hand, and said, “It’s okay, I’m fine.” “I just didn’t expect Mr. Liam to have such a bad temper. It’s a good thing you broke up with him early, Aria. I can’t imagine what might have happened otherwise.” Hearing these words, the onlookers’ criticism became even more intense, directly labeling me as an “abusive boyfriend.” Aria just looked on coldly, showing no intention of defending me. Instead, she said sternly, “Apologize!” Forced by the circumstances, I had to lower my head, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed you…” I reversed black and white, trampling on my own character and dignity. “Is that enough?” I asked Aria, my heart as dead as ashes, but noticed her brow furrowing almost imperceptibly. As I turned to leave, feeling dispirited, she called out somewhat uncertainly, “Liam!” I heard her footsteps, but Jack held her back, “Aria, I’m feeling a bit dizzy. Let’s go home.” Go ahead. You go to your home, and I’ll go to my rented room. It’s best if we never cross paths again. I’m really tired. I don’t want to have any more entanglements with Aria. That day, my boss assigned me a big project. It required not only photography but also hand-drawing a portrait. In the entire studio, I was the only one capable of taking on such a commission. According to my boss, this client was extremely generous. There was hope for my surgery fees, so I accepted without hesitation. However, I later discovered that it was Jack who had specifically sought out our studio and placed this order. I needed to photograph them as a couple and draw a loving portrait of them… Time flew by, and I arrived at the scheduled beach with my equipment. Out of habit, I knew from which angles to shoot to best capture Aria’s beauty. No matter who she was posing with, I could take the most perfect pictures. Based on this foundation, poses like gazing into each other’s eyes, embracing, and kissing became the icing on the cake. The entire photoshoot went very smoothly, with frame after frame of sweet moments frozen in time as I pressed the shutter. Throughout the process, my heart remained as calm as a dry well, without a ripple or a splash. Towards the end, I still needed to discuss with them which photo they wanted to use as the reference for the hand-drawn portrait. Jack took the camera and flipped through the photos, “Mr. Liam’s photography skills are really good, and his attitude is quite impressive too. It doesn’t seem to affect you at all.” The sarcasm in his words was clear, but what did it matter? This was just work, after all. “I’m glad you like them,” I replied calmly. Soon, Aria and Jack picked out a photo. “Let’s use this one for the oil painting,” they said. In the picture, they were facing away from the sunset, holding hands and smiling, their expressions sweet. The brilliant sunset painted everything in a beautiful light. I glanced at Aria discreetly. Back then, our first photo together also had a sunset as the backdrop. At that time, we were still shy, our awkwardness revealing our innocence and purity. I wonder if she still keeps that photo now? Never mind, whether she kept it or threw it away, it has nothing to do with me anymore. I packed my equipment into my bag and took a taxi home alone. Once I complete this commission and get paid, I can have the surgery. What will I forget then? I hope it’s Aria. I don’t want to hurt anymore. It would be best, best of all, if I never remember her again. Our love should die at its most beautiful moment. But life seemed to offer me no hope. Something happened with Jack.

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“I have a business dinner tonight, so I won’t be coming home. Don’t disturb me under any circumstances. This is important.” I held my phone, watching with my own eyes as my wife, who had claimed she needed to work overtime, walked into a hotel arm in arm with a man. That man was the one that got away in her heart, while I was nothing more than a cheap substitute for the love she couldn’t have. We had been married for five years, yet those five years of marriage couldn’t compare to the first day he came back. “Alright, take care of yourself. Don’t go too wild,” I replied sincerely before hanging up and starting the car. Now it was my turn to seek out my own lost love. “Ethan is coming back soon. Don’t you think you should explain things to your husband?” Olivia lounged lazily on the sofa, her eyes full of disdain as she coldly retorted. “Explain what? Is there any need? After all these years, doesn’t he understand the situation? He’s always been too scared to say anything, let alone make a fuss.” Olivia’s lips curled into a mocking smile, her tone dripping with contempt. The woman who had initially asked the question quickly nodded in agreement. “It’s hilarious. Jack is nothing but a doormat, isn’t he? Pathetically infatuated, loving you to death. Everyone knows we all see him as a joke.” She paused, then continued more bluntly, “But the Jack family has been down on their luck for so long now. He probably can’t bear to give up his meal ticket. He’s not just a doormat anymore; he’s practically a leech, refusing to let go.” As soon as she finished speaking, the room erupted in raucous laughter. I stood outside the private room, listening to the piercing laughter inside. I clenched my fists, remaining silent for a long while before slowly reaching out to push open the door. Instantly, the laughter ceased, and all eyes turned to me. They continued to laugh, looking me up and down with contempt in their eyes. Seeing this, Olivia casually adjusted her coat and stood up, saying nonchalantly, “You all keep playing. I’m leaving first.” The atmosphere in the car was suffocatingly tense, dead silent all the way. It wasn’t until we were seated in the car that Olivia suddenly spoke, her voice devoid of any warmth: “You heard our conversation, didn’t you?” My body suddenly stiffened, my throat feeling as if something was stuck in it. I couldn’t utter a single word. “Jack, don’t pretend in front of me. I know you heard everything. You’d better understand your place, got it?” Olivia glanced at me sideways, the warning in her eyes so intense it was almost palpable. In fact, even before marrying her, I knew crystal clear that I was nothing more than a substitute for Ethan. Five years had passed, and the situation remained unchanged. Back then, when my family went bankrupt, those who had once fawned over and curried favor with my family vanished without a trace in an instant. Meanwhile, those chasing after debts were like hungry wolves, constantly blocking our doorway. We were at our wit’s end. Just because my face bore some resemblance to Ethan’s, Olivia had set her sights on me. She generously spent a large sum of money to “buy” me from my parents into the Summers family. With that money, my family was barely able to clear their debts. Olivia had saved my family, so naturally, my parents were grateful to her. They repeatedly demanded that I do everything possible to please her. “Our family is truly blessed to have Olivia as a daughter-in-law. We must have struck gold. No matter what you think, you must serve her well and keep her happy!” For the five years after our marriage, I devoted myself wholeheartedly to taking care of her. I had thought that even if you raised a dog, after so long, it would develop feelings and know how to wag its tail to show affection. But I never imagined that from Olivia, all I would receive was endless mockery and sarcasm. She would occasionally warn me, reminding me to always remember my place, not to foolishly dream of replacing Ethan, and certainly not to entertain any fantasies of winning her heart. Our marriage was like a false farce, where I could only mechanically perform according to the script she had set. One misstep, and I would face nearly violent torment. My thoughts were a tangled mess. I suddenly snapped back to reality, instinctively gripping the steering wheel tighter as I squeezed out two words in a dry voice: “I understand.” Half a month later, Ethan returned from overseas. I gripped the steering wheel, playing the role of Olivia’s chauffeur. She had over a dozen drivers, yet she insisted on calling me. I understood this was her way of warning me. What I didn’t expect was for Ethan to corner me in the restroom. He smiled mockingly, pushing me against the wall. My head hit the tiles, causing excruciating pain. “You think Olivia loves you?” “A fake should be thrown in the trash and destroyed.” I kept my head down, saying nothing. He laughed, confident in his victory: “I heard the Jack family wants to make a comeback?” He suddenly lunged forward, grabbing my collar. The cold metal of his watch band pressed against my Adam’s apple. “Divorce her within two weeks, or else…” “I can destroy the Jack family.” Outside the stall, Olivia’s light laughter could be heard: “Ethan, why aren’t you coming out yet?” Ethan laughed too: “Are you that worried about me? You even followed me here.” Like a lowly coachman, I drove the two of them home. In the evening, I passed by the Hilton Hotel. The glass doors reflected two silhouettes. Olivia had her arms around Ethan’s neck, standing on tiptoe to kiss him. “Not coming back tonight.” I received her message on my phone. I didn’t reply, looking up to see the lights of the presidential suite on the top floor come on. My phone vibrated in my palm: “Business engagement tonight.” Later that night. I scrolled through their social media posts. In one photo, Ethan was bending down to wipe a wine stain off her skirt. The comments section was boiling like hot oil: “The real deal is back, time for the substitute to exit!” “Why hasn’t Jack divorced her yet? Does he want money more than dignity?” My finger hovered trembling over the power button when a new trending topic suddenly topped the list. #Sophia Lee, Stanford’s youngest visiting professor returns to the country# In the accompanying image, the woman stood under the spotlight in a laboratory, her white coat accentuating her cool gaze. I suddenly remembered years ago, when she smiled with her eyes curved into crescents, yet filled with unshed tears. “Come with me, please?” What did I say back then? “The Jack family needs me.” …… In the rearview mirror, a giant screen was looping Sophia’s interview. She said, “I came back for someone.” On a rainy night, a girl stood outside my house without an umbrella, stubbornly waiting in the pouring rain. On my phone, she sent me a message: “Jack, do you really not want me anymore?” At that time, the Jack family was on the verge of collapse. To avoid dragging Sophia down, I could only hide in my room like a coward, not daring to give any response. She refused to give up, calling me repeatedly. After much hesitation, I finally answered: “Go home, I won’t see you.” “…” “You’d better not try to get back together with me in the future!” After saying this, Sophia hung up the phone, blocked all means of contact, and never reached out to me again. Later, I heard that she had followed her family’s arrangements and gone abroad. I stared blankly at the photo attached to the trending topic. She had become the ideal version of herself that she had always dreamed of. This was good. I closed my eyes, feeling a sense of melancholy. I could almost imagine how scornful her attitude would be if she knew about my current situation. She would probably think I deserved it. After putting down the phone, I stared at the ceiling, lost in thought, not really thinking about anything, just spacing out. Suddenly, my phone on the bedside table vibrated, making a “buzz” sound as a notification popped up. I picked up the phone and saw it was a friend request, with her name as the note: Sophia Lee. After a long silence, I took a deep breath before accepting it. Immediately after, I received a photo. In the dimly lit bar, Ethan had his arm around Olivia’s waist, their behavior unmistakably intimate. This photo alone wasn’t enough to disturb my composure, but the person who sent it could. My heart grew cold, and I typed out a line: “Did you come specifically to mock me?” At the top of the chat box, the “typing” text appeared and disappeared several times. After a period of waiting, Sophia finally sent a message: “Is this really your choice?” I put down the phone wordlessly, not intending to respond to this question. On the bedside table lay the divorce papers. It wasn’t because of Ethan’s threat, but because I had already planned to divorce Olivia. Months ago, I had already asked a lawyer to draft the agreement. I just hadn’t found the right opportunity due to pressure from my parents. Rumors said I was Ethan’s substitute. Just something for Olivia to console herself with after losing him. But no one knew that for me, Olivia was also just a substitute. After a long while, when Sophia didn’t receive a reply, she sent another message: “Come keep me company for a drink. Let’s give them something to be excited about.” The bar was playing pulsating music, and the flashing lights made me squint. As I looked around, before I could locate Sophia, I felt a warm touch on my wrist. Then, a warm embrace. I caught a whiff of a subtle fragrance, and looking down, I saw Sophia burying her head in my shoulder. After a long while, she finally raised her head and looked into my eyes, saying, “Long time no see. Do you like this way of greeting?” “Uh… it’s a bit sudden.” Seeing my wooden expression, Sophia curled her lips into a light smile, “Scared you, didn’t I?” Her behavior was flirtatious, her words frivolous. I had to admit, after not seeing her for so long, she had changed a lot. Back then, Sophia was passionate and sincere. Every time she clung to me, she always made me promise over and over that I would never leave her, as if getting that promise would put her mind completely at ease. I tried to calm myself down, trying to appear as composed as possible. But as she held my hand and led me through the crowd, my heart kept racing. We walked through a long corridor, up to the second floor, and arrived at a booth in the corner. My gaze swept over the railing to the floor below, where I found Ethan and Olivia with a group of friends. Someone was egging Olivia on to feed Ethan some alcohol, their laughter extremely noisy. “I chose this spot on purpose. It’s close, and you can see clearly.” Sophia glanced at me, her cold tone revealing a hint of resentment, “Back then, you dumped me for this kind of trash? Huh, your taste isn’t great.” “You should understand everything now.” I pursed my lips, responding expressionlessly. Given Sophia’s status, it wouldn’t have been difficult for her to investigate what happened back then. She said this merely to mock me. Sighing inwardly, I honestly said, “I hurt you back then, but I don’t regret making that decision.” Sophia narrowed her beautiful eyes, her cold gaze unusually complex, “Really no regrets? Then why don’t you dare to look at me? Why do you keep avoiding my gaze?” “What are you afraid of?” She walked around the table to my side, leaning down to lift my chin, forcing me to meet her eyes, “Or is it that you just hate me that much?” Sophia pursed her bright red lips, silent for a moment before asking, “If I hadn’t used Olivia as an excuse, would you have even bothered to look at my message?” “You always liked to play these games. In your eyes, I probably couldn’t even compare to a single strand of her hair, right?” She asked and answered herself, suddenly leaning in so close I could feel her breath, “Tell me, wouldn’t it be interesting if Olivia saw you like this?” As Sophia leaned in closer and closer, the commotion from downstairs brought me back to my senses. I hurriedly pushed her away, “You’re not this kind of person. If you’re upset, you could get revenge on me in other ways. There’s no need for this…” Before I could finish speaking, Sophia forcefully pressed down on my shoulders and kissed me. She bit my lips with reckless force until the taste of blood spread on my tongue. Only then did she stop, “You think you know what kind of person I am? Five years have passed, and you’re still so full of yourself.” Indeed, the current Sophia was increasingly hard for me to figure out. I was the one who had pursued her initially, only to abandon her when my family fell on hard times. The deeper the love, the more thorough the hate. This was to be expected. The pressure on my body lightened as Sophia sat beside me, saying coldly, “You were even lost in thought just now. What were you thinking about? Your cheating wife downstairs?” For a moment, it felt like all secrets had been exposed. This marriage, as messy as mud, was indeed a pain I found hard to speak about. If Olivia found out about Sophia and me, how would she react? And what about the Summers family? No matter what, I couldn’t let Sophia get involved. Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I stood up and said, “I have to go.” As soon as I said this, Sophia became even angrier, “Are you running away again? The night has just begun.” “Stay and keep me company, won’t you?”

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In the seventh year of my marriage to Hector Smith, I proposed divorce. At that time, Hector was deeply in love with his secretary, Yael Larson. Meanwhile, I reconnected with Zack Cooper, my childhood friend and also my attending physician, after a long separation. Everyone had said that I was his beloved, his one and only wife. But then he openly bought Yael a top-tier riverside apartment. Everyone was betting on when we would get divorced. Meanwhile, I was counting down every day, ticking off the remaining items on my bucket list. That evening, Hector was hosting an important client reception, and I—who usually stayed out of his work matters—slipped on my coat, intending to make an appearance. As I pushed open the heavy door, every eye in the room swung toward me. Hector and Yael leaned against each other, but a moment later, someone snapped back to reality and continued to tease them, “Mr. Smith and Ms. Larson, you two make such a perfect couple!” A wry grin flickered across my lips. “Mr. Smith, I’m sorry for interrupting your good time—guess I should toast to you…” Without waiting for Hector to respond, I tilted my head back and downed the drinks in one go. Perhaps I drank a bit too hastily because a sharp pain stabbed through my stomach. I mechanically picked up some food, chewed it without really tasting it, and forced it down my throat. Yael, standing before me, did bear a resemblance to my twenty-year-old self. She rose to her feet, picked up her glass, and walked toward me. “Mrs. Smith, Mr. Smith and I were just working together. We didn’t mean to…” I gently pushed her glass aside and looked at Hector, whose expression had turned unreadable. I smirked. “Mr. Smith, I shouldn’t have interrupted your good time. I hope you won’t be upset.” Hector slammed his wine glass down forcefully, a hint of impatience flickering in his eyes. “Why did you have to come here and make a scene instead of talking about it at home?” Yael sensed Hector’s anger and tried to soothe him by patting his back. “Mrs. Smith must have some urgent matter. Maybe we should just call it a night?” Hector waved his hand dismissively. “Ignore her. Let’s continue.” With that, he picked up his glass to make another toast. My stomachache grew worse, and I decided to stop pressing Hector further. I stood up, clutching my stomach, and left, hearing Yael’s coquettish chuckle. “Since Mrs. Smith left sensibly, Mr. Smith, are you going home tonight?”

After seven years of marriage to Hector, I had never interfered in his affairs, no matter how many he had outside. But recently, he had been going too far. His relationship with Yael had even reached his mother’s ears, and she warned me not to let him disgrace the family name. Moreover, lately, I’d been jolted awake by nightmares, each time feeling as if I’d lived through half a lifetime, my heart tormented. So, I decided to gently warn him that it was time to rein in his behavior. But with this unbearable stomachache, I had no choice but to put it on hold. I drove to the hospital as fast as I could, barely holding it together. The doctor gave me a bunch of test orders. A few hours later, the doctor asked me, “What’s your name?” “Charleen Smith.” At that moment, I was in so much pain that I was drenched in sweat and curled up on the hospital bed. “How long has it been since you last had a bowel movement?” “Uh… about a week.” “The results just came back. Your constipation is caused by intestinal obstruction. You’ll need an enema shortly. Please get ready for it.” As soon as the doctor finished speaking, I was surrounded by nurses. By the time I got home after the enema, it was already the afternoon of the next day. Hector still hadn’t come back. I guessed that with his beautiful secretary by his side, he had completely forgotten about me, someone no longer in the prime of youth. In the fifth year of our marriage, Hector’s hotel business expanded rapidly. With that came his increasing all-night absences. Later, I learned that he had been constantly changing secretaries. But ever since Yael started working as his secretary two years ago, Hector had not hired another one. My friend kindly warned me to keep an eye on the women around Hector, so I wouldn’t end up being taken for a ride without even realizing it. I just smiled. They had no idea that I had never had any access to Hector’s money. Once again, when I arrived at Hector’s office building, the receptionist asked if I had an appointment. I guess I was probably the only wife who needed an appointment just to see her own husband. I called Hector and told him I couldn’t get in. Before long, Yael came to pick me up. “Mrs. Smith, Mr. Smith is busy at the moment. Could you please wait for a moment in the lounge?” The young receptionist looked surprised and muttered nervously, “Who knew Mr. Smith had a wife? I always thought Yael was Mrs. Smith. So thin and haggard—I can’t figure out what he sees in her.” Yael gave the girl a stern look, then turned to bring me a cup of coffee. “Mrs. Smith, please wait a moment. Mr. Smith will be here as soon as he’s done.” Hector wrapped up his meeting early and walked over to me. His brows furrowed as he asked, “Couldn’t this wait until I get home?” “I’ve been waiting for you for over a week, but you never went home. I want a divorce.” After hearing what I said, Hector finally looked up from his pile of documents in disbelief. “Don’t make a scene here. I’ll find time this weekend to go home and spend some time with you, okay? Your birthday is coming up in a few days. I’ll transfer 300 thousand dollars into your account. If that’s not enough, just let me know.” I forced a smile. In the seven years of our marriage, his celebration of my birthday had become increasingly perfunctory. His business kept growing, but the amount of money he transferred into my account kept shrinking. I was just about to get up and fling the bank card in his face when I didn’t notice Yael had come up behind me. I accidentally knocked over the freshly brewed espresso she was holding, and the coffee splashed all over her crisp white suit, staining it. Hector stood up and pushed me aside, his eyes filled with obvious concern. He took Yael’s hand and anxiously asked if she had been burned anywhere. This was the first time he so openly cared for another woman right in front of me. I slowly clenched my fists and gave a soft, bitter smile. Hector scolded me, “Apologize to Yael right now.” I picked up my bag, didn’t spare him another glance, and walked away. As soon as I got downstairs, my phone rang. “Are you Charleen?”

As the car moved slowly forward, my mind drifted back to the year I graduated. Hector and I had attended a charity event together. That was when we met Yael. Despite her frail and small frame, her eyes shone with an extraordinary toughness. We learned that Yael had lost her mother at a young age and was later abandoned by her family. Even after years of working part-time jobs to pay her way through high school, she still couldn’t afford her university tuition. On the verge of missing her chance to start university, she looked helpless but resolute. Perhaps because she reminded me of myself in some way, I inexplicably decided that day to sponsor her anonymously. Hector was somewhat reluctant at first, but eventually gave in to my persistence and agreed. Over the years, I regularly transferred money into Yael’s account through Hector’s account, without paying attention to her academic performance or what she did after graduation. I just never expected to see her again—this time among the job candidates at Hector’s company. Maybe it was all meant to be. The car pulled smoothly into the hospital parking lot. I got out without any hurry, even though the hospital had been urging me multiple times. I knocked on the doctor’s office door and saw a figure that seemed vaguely familiar. “Zack Cooper.” My mind raced, trying to place the familiar name. “Zack!” Zack, right in front of me, was staring intently at the computer screen with a cold, serious expression. He cut me off sharply before I could say anything. “Charleen, we found signs of a tumor in your digestive system from your last check-up.” I was stunned for a moment and calmly asked him, “Is it malignant?” “Yes, which is why we contacted you. We’d like you to consider being admitted to the hospital as soon as possible to start treatment.” For a moment, my mind went blank as I tried to process the information. “What if I don’t accept the treatment?” “I hope you will.” “What if I don’t? How long can I live?” “Half a year, maybe… shorter.” I walked out of the hospital with the diagnosis report in hand, feeling utterly dazed and disheartened. I drove home as quickly as I could, my mind in turmoil.

When I opened the door, I found Hector had actually come home. Over the past two years, his career had really taken off. I had recently heard that he bought Yael a riverside apartment, where he spent most of his time. Yael would cook and do everything to make him happy. He was lounging against the floor-to-ceiling window. The house was dark, and he stood there quietly with a cigarette in his mouth. Hearing me come in, he stubbed out the cigarette and stared straight at me. I kept my eyes down as I walked past him, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back. His brows furrowed as he spoke softly, “Why have you lost so much weight lately?” His tone was gentle, unlike the coldness he had shown earlier in the day. For a moment, I felt like he was still the boy who loved me dearly seven years ago. “I bought your favorite cake,” he added. I pulled my hand free and walked over to the table. I picked up the cake and, right in front of him, threw it into the trash bin. Hector’s expression darkened. He reached out and pinned me against the wall. He gritted his teeth and said to me, “Charleen, what the hell is your problem?” I calmly met his gaze and said, “I want a divorce.” “Out of the question!” he growled. Then he buried his face in my neck, biting and nipping at my skin. He dragged me into the bedroom and threw me roughly onto the bed. He must have been driven mad by my words. He was like a wild animal out of control, tearing at my clothes with brute force. I felt sheer terror and began to scratch at him frantically. “Hector! You bastard! Let me go!” But Hector showed no signs of stopping. He pinned my legs to keep me from thrashing about and bit my neck hard. I cried out in pain. Hector leaned over me, trying to kiss the tears that were falling from my eyes. “Can’t you just be good for once?” he whispered. I turned my head away, dodging his lips that were about to touch mine. But he grabbed my chin and leaned in again. As his lips got closer and closer, just about to reach mine, his phone suddenly rang. It was Yael calling. Hector hesitated for a moment but eventually answered the call. I could hear Yael on the other end of the line, her voice thick with tears and a hint of drunkenness. “Mr. Smith, can you come pick me up? They took advantage of your absence and made me drink so much… I can’t hold on much longer… Can you come get me… please…” Listening to Yael’s plea for help on the other end, Hector remained silent. His eyes were fixed on me with an intense stare. “Charleen, as long as you ask me to stay, I will,” he said. I let out a cold laugh. I had humbled myself to beg him to stay. But he didn’t even wait for me to finish my sentence and hung up the phone, leaving me listening to the cold, relentless busy signal. Now he wanted me to bow down, swallow my pride, and submit to him. “Hector, you must be dreaming!” Hector was silent for a moment, then let out a self-mocking laugh. He held the phone to his ear and said to Yael, “I’ll come pick you up and take you home.” Without another glance at me, he got up and left, slamming the door behind him. After all that turmoil, I couldn’t sleep anymore. I pulled on a sweater and headed to the newly opened bar nearby to clear my head. I leaned against the bar, ordered a drink, and began to sip it on my own. The bar filled with the sound of a classic old song. A deep, husky male voice sang softly and smoothly. When the song ended, the crowd burst into applause. I looked up at the stage and saw a man dressed all in black, looking cool and somewhat familiar.

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Jacob’s first love got pregnant and came to our house asking him to take her in. I refused. That night, she jumped off a bridge, killing herself and her unborn child. Later, Jacob asked me to go bungee jumping with him. The moment he pushed me off, he whispered in my ear, “If you hadn’t been so heartless and turned Lily away back then, she wouldn’t have taken her own life. You owe her this life.” He took out scissors and cut the cord. I fell to my death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day his first love came to our house pregnant, asking for help. I smiled and said, “What a coincidence, I’m pregnant too. Let’s take care of our pregnancies together.” “Knock knock knock—” A series of knocks came from outside the door. I woke up startled from my nightmare. The nightmare left me feeling cold all over. I dreamed that Jacob took me bungee jumping, and the moment he pushed me off, he took out a pair of scissors. His face filled with hatred as he said, “Olivia, if you hadn’t been so heartless and turned Lily away, she wouldn’t have taken her own life. You owe her this life.” “Go to hell!” Jacob cut the cord with the scissors, and I fell to my death. The knocking outside continued, accompanied by a familiar voice: “Jacob, are you home?” I suddenly came to my senses. It was Lily’s voice. Lily was Jacob’s college crush. In my previous life, six months into our marriage, Lily showed up at our door. She said she was pregnant, and the father of the child didn’t want to acknowledge the baby or marry her. But she wanted to keep the child, and in desperation, she came to ask Jacob to take her in. At that time, I was also pregnant, and naturally, I didn’t want Jacob’s first love moving in. So, I politely refused her. Lily left disappointed, and that day, Jacob gave me the cold shoulder. Although he didn’t say anything, his actions told me he blamed me for not taking Lily in. That night, Jacob received a call from Lily. Lily told him on the phone: “Jacob, are you abandoning me too? I have nothing left to live for in this world. I’m on the bridge now, goodbye forever!” “Lily, don’t do anything stupid, wait for me!” Jacob was in the middle of dinner, but he immediately put down his chopsticks, grabbed his car keys, and rushed out. I watched Jacob leave the house in a hurry, driving to the bridge Lily mentioned. My heart sank. Jacob didn’t return until dawn the next day. He sat dejectedly in the living room, smoking. I came out of the bedroom and asked him, “How’s Lily?” “She’s dead, along with her unborn child.” Jacob’s eyes were red, filled with regret and remorse. “Olivia, you shouldn’t have turned her away. We had plenty of room in our house, why were you so heartless?” I retorted, “Jacob, you think it’s my fault? There are plenty of hotel rooms, why did she have to stay at our house?” He didn’t respond, just kept smoking. From then on, we had a cold war for a while. As the baby in my belly grew bigger, he started to reflect on his behavior. He realized it wasn’t my fault. He bought a car full of flowers to apologize to me. He held my hand and said, “Olivia, I was wrong. It was Lily who couldn’t cope, I shouldn’t have blamed you.” For the sake of our unborn child, I forgave him. From then on, he never mentioned the incident again and focused on our life together. He made healthy smoothies for me every day, but I still miscarried. I was devastated, and he comforted me: “Olivia, don’t be sad. We’ll have children in the future. Let me take you bungee jumping, they say when you jump from a high place, all your worries disappear.” I went bungee jumping with him to try and relieve my depression. But he gave me a fatal blow. It turned out he had never gotten over Lily, he had been resenting me all along, to the point of pushing me off from a great height. Before pushing me, he cruelly told me: “Do you know why you couldn’t keep the baby? Because I added ingredients harmful to pregnancy in the smoothies I made for you.” Recalling these past events, I trembled with anger. He had actually harmed his own flesh and blood for Lily’s sake. I got out of bed and pulled open the curtains to look outside. I had been reborn, back to the day Lily came to our door pregnant, asking for help.

Jacob had left for work early this morning and wasn’t home. I took out the pregnancy test result from the drawer. At this point, I was also two months pregnant. I thought, if only I had been reborn before marrying him, that would have been so much better. I would have called off the engagement without hesitation. This child came at the wrong time. Lily called out from outside the door: “Jacob, are you there? Olivia, are you home? Open the door quickly.” I put away the pregnancy test result and leisurely went to the bathroom to freshen up. I heard Lily take out her phone and call Jacob: “Sob sob, Jacob, are you busy? I’m at your front door now, Olivia won’t let me in.” “What happened? Don’t cry.” Jacob replied on the phone, “Wait for me, I’m coming back right away!” Lily waited outside the door for a full twenty minutes before I opened it and looked at her: “Can I help you?” Lily had a suitcase beside her feet. She touched her belly and said to me, “Olivia, I’m pregnant. The baby’s father doesn’t want this child. I have nowhere to stay now, can you and Jacob take me in?” I wasn’t close to Lily, we had only met once before. She came to our wedding. At that time, I didn’t know she was Jacob’s college crush. If I had known Jacob had a first love he couldn’t forget, I wouldn’t have married him. Jacob was on his way back. I pulled Lily into the house and smiled, “What a coincidence, I’m pregnant too. Let’s take care of our pregnancies together.” Lily looked at my belly and asked, “How many months along are you? Does Jacob know?” “Just over two months, he doesn’t know yet. I don’t plan to tell him for now.” As soon as I finished speaking, footsteps were heard outside the door. Jacob was back. He saw Lily and me sitting on the sofa, first looked surprised, then relieved. He went to pour water for Lily, his tone revealing his concern for her: “Lily, why are you here? What happened?” “I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. I was hoping to stay at your place for a while.” Lily said, then glanced at me and added, “Olivia has already agreed.” Jacob was a bit surprised. He pulled me into the study, closed the door, and asked me: “Olivia, did you really agree to let Lily stay?” I generously replied: “Yes, she has nowhere to go now. If we don’t take her in, what if she does something desperate? Besides, we have three rooms, one more person won’t make a difference.” “Olivia, you’re so generous.” Jacob’s eyes lit up with joy, and he hugged my waist, about to kiss me. I felt disgusted but subtly pushed him away. He smiled and said: “You’re right, we have plenty of room. Let her stay for a while then!”

Jacob went to the living room and warmly greeted Lily. Lily said she hadn’t had breakfast yet. Jacob immediately put on an apron and went to the kitchen to make breakfast for Lily. He also said he would go to the supermarket later to buy chicken to make smoothies for her. He even asked Lily what fruits she liked. Lily coyly said: “You know, I like cherries, strawberries, and durian, preferably Musang King durian.” Jacob generously agreed: “Alright, I’ll buy them all for you later!” In the room, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Cherries are so expensive now, I can’t even afford them myself. And Musang King durian, several hundred dollars each, how dare she? Jacob cleaned out the guest room for Lily to stay in. He came over to say goodbye to me: “Olivia, I’m taking Lily to the supermarket, want to come?” I tried my best to contain myself: “No, you two go ahead.” Jacob nodded: “Okay, then tidy up the house a bit, I’ll buy your favorite oranges back for you.” “Go on.” I coldly watched Jacob and Lily leave. After they left, I quickly packed some luggage and dialed a long-forgotten number: “Ryan, are you free now? Can we meet?” Ryan agreed without hesitation: “Sure, where are you? I’ll come pick you up.” “No need, let’s meet at the coffee shop. I’ll go there myself.” Ryan cheerfully replied: “Okay.” I took a taxi to meet Ryan at the coffee shop. Ryan was my college classmate, once the campus heartthrob. He had pursued me before, and when he heard the news of my marriage, he, who never went to bars, got drunk at a bar that night. We hadn’t been in contact since my marriage, but I learned from mutual friends that he was starting a business in this city and was currently single. At the coffee shop, Ryan was already waiting for me. It had been a long time, and he looked more mature than before. At 6’4″, sunny and handsome, sitting by the floor-to-ceiling window, he attracted quite a few glances. After some small talk, I said to him: “Ryan, I have a favor to ask.” “Olivia, whatever it is, just ask.” I confessed: “I had a fight with my husband. I was wondering if I could stay at your place for a few days?” If the events of my previous life hadn’t happened, I definitely wouldn’t have asked a male friend to stay at his place. However, my mindset was different now. Jacob thought it was okay for Lily to stay at our house. Well, I wanted to see how Jacob would react to me staying at the house of a male classmate who once pursued me. Ryan was stunned for a moment, then nodded: “Sure, you can stay as long as you want.” And so, I moved into Ryan’s home. After shopping at the supermarket, Jacob took Lily to the mall and maternity store, buying her many sets of maternity clothes and daily necessities. They returned home carrying bags of all sizes. Jacob peeled Musang King durian for Lily, washed cherries and strawberries, and brought them to her. Then, he went into the master bedroom to call me out to eat fruit. The master bedroom was empty. Jacob noticed the suitcase in the corner was gone, and when he opened the wardrobe, my most frequently worn clothes were also missing. He dialed my number. I was eating fruit that Ryan had cut for me. Jacob asked angrily: “Olivia, where are you? Why is your suitcase gone?” I calmly replied: “The house was a bit crowded, so I moved to Ryan’s place.” Jacob knew Ryan and was aware that he had pursued me before. He had always seen Ryan as a rival. Upon hearing this, Jacob exploded, shouting: “What are you doing at Ryan’s house? Don’t you know it’s improper for men and women to live together? Come back home right now!”

I mocked: “Oh, so you do know it’s improper for men and women to live together? I thought you didn’t.” Jacob realized that I was doing this because I was unhappy about him letting Lily stay at our house: “Olivia, can you stop being dramatic? You were the one who agreed to let Lily stay, and now you’re the one who moved to Ryan’s house. What exactly do you want?” “I pretended to agree as a test for you, and unfortunately, you failed the test.” I didn’t want to say more to him, just added, “That’s all. Ryan has cut some fruit for me, I’m going to eat now.” The last sentence was clearly meant to mock him. Jacob grabbed his jacket, intending to come to Ryan’s house to find me. As he passed through the living room, Lily called out to him: “Jacob, I heard everything just now. It seems Olivia doesn’t welcome me. How about this, I’ll pack my things and leave now.” Jacob stopped and explained to her: “Don’t take it to heart, Olivia is just throwing a little tantrum. I’ll go get her, she’ll come back with me.” “I don’t want you two to fight because of me, I should leave.” Lily said as she went to the guest room to pack her luggage. Seeing that she wasn’t joking, Jacob quickly put down his jacket and went to comfort her: “Don’t you have nowhere else to stay right now? Even if you want to leave, there’s no rush. I’ve bought so much fruit for you.” “Jacob, you’re so kind. If only I had chosen you back then…” Lily sighed, her eyes revealing a hint of regret. Jacob’s ears turned red, and he asked eagerly: “Lily, why didn’t you choose me back then?” Lily smiled lightly and said: “There were too many people pursuing me back then, and sometimes people make the wrong choice. Let’s not talk about the past.” Perhaps Lily’s words gave Jacob hope. He decided not to go to Ryan’s house to find me. He solemnly said to Lily: “Don’t leave. This isn’t your fault, it’s Olivia’s. She’s too petty.” “You stay here. If she wants to stay at Ryan’s house, let her.” After saying this, Jacob asked Lily to go to the living room and continue eating fruit. Lily then said: “By the way, can you accompany me to my prenatal check-up tomorrow?” “Of course, tomorrow is Saturday. Even if it wasn’t, I could take time off to accompany you.” Jacob agreed without hesitation, revealing his true nature as a devoted admirer. “You’re such a good man, Olivia is so lucky.” Lily praised Jacob, then went on to criticize me, “You’re so good to her, yet she still picks fights with you. I feel like you deserve better.” “Ah, her temper is indeed a bit much, unlike you who’s so understanding.” Jacob sighed, looking at Lily with newfound interest. Lily smiled coyly, and the two exchanged meaningful glances.

The next day, I went to the hospital early in the morning. Coming out of the operating room, I ran into Lily and Jacob. Jacob was surprised to see me in the obstetrics department. He pulled me to the end of the corridor and asked in a low voice: “Olivia, what are you doing here?” My face was pale, my voice cold: “Didn’t Lily tell you I was pregnant too?” Hearing the news of my pregnancy, Jacob wasn’t very excited, just a bit surprised: “What? You’re pregnant too? Did you come for a check-up today?” I shook my head: “No, I came for surgery. I’ve already terminated the pregnancy.” Jacob was furious: “Olivia, you terminated our child without asking me? What’s the meaning of this?” “Jacob, let’s get a divorce. I wish you and Lily happiness.” I turned to leave. Ryan came from afar, he had gone to get medicine for me. Seeing Ryan, Jacob rushed over and punched him, shouting angrily: “Ryan, did you persuade my wife to terminate the pregnancy? You’re asking for death!” Ryan punched Jacob back, and nurses came forward to separate them. Lily came over to comfort Jacob: “Don’t be angry, we can talk about this when we get back.” I pulled Ryan away, leaving Jacob and Lily behind. Jacob, grinding his teeth in anger, shouted at my retreating back: “Olivia, think carefully! If you leave with him, our marriage is over!” I had thought it through clearly. Divorce, we must divorce! After returning from the hospital, I rested at Ryan’s place for a few days. When I was able to get out of bed, I moved out of Ryan’s house and into a hotel. I had originally stayed at his place to anger Jacob, which was a bit impulsive. After calming down, I knew I shouldn’t have done that. I proposed divorce to Jacob. He was also angry and agreed immediately. However, when it came to dividing the assets, some disagreements arose. We had a house, a car, and 300,000 in savings under our names. Originally, we planned to sell the house and car and split the marital assets equally. But Lily persuaded Jacob: “Olivia’s salary isn’t as high as yours, how can she get half? Giving her a third is already generous.” Jacob thought Lily made sense, so he proposed that he keep the house, I get the car, and of the savings, he gets 200,000 and I get 100,000. Of course, I didn’t agree. Although my base salary wasn’t as high as his, my year-end bonus could match his entire annual salary. That car was bought with my year-end bonus. When we bought the house, my family also contributed half. When we didn’t have enough money for renovations, I used most of my pre-marriage savings. I had originally planned to live a good life with him, but I never expected I had misjudged him so badly. Now that we couldn’t continue our life together, splitting the assets 50-50 was already generous to him. Since we couldn’t reach an agreement, we had to file for divorce in court.

While I was preparing the materials for the divorce lawsuit, Lily was still living in my house. And I was living in a hotel. The master bedroom in my house had a large bathroom with a bathtub. The bathtub was connected to an app on my phone that could remotely control the water temperature and massage frequency. That night, my phone app popped up a message showing the bathtub was in use. Water temperature: 40°C. I immediately became alert. This bathtub was exclusively mine, Jacob hardly ever used it. He only liked showers. Moreover, he didn’t like water that was too hot when bathing, 38°C at most. I suspected Lily was using my bathtub. My house clearly had two bathrooms. Besides the one in the master bedroom, there was a public bathroom next to the guest room. To confirm my suspicion, I dialed a video call to Jacob. Jacob took about ten seconds to slowly answer the video call. He was working in the study, looking at me in the video with a cold face: “What? Realized you were wrong? I won’t forgive you.” I didn’t answer his question, instead asking directly: “Is Lily taking a bath in the master bedroom?” Jacob was nonchalant: “So what if she is? There’s no bathtub in the guest room, she’s just taking a bath in the master bedroom. We’re about to get divorced anyway, do you still care?” “I can’t believe this!” I switched the video call to a floating window, opened the app controlling the bathtub, turned up the water temperature, and randomly pressed the massage buttons. From the other end of the phone came Lily’s scream: “Ah—” Jacob quickly got up and walked to the master bedroom door, calling out: “Lily, what’s wrong?” “Why is the water getting hotter and hotter? And it’s spraying everywhere.” Lily scrambled out of the bathtub. “Be careful, come out first, don’t soak anymore.” Jacob said this and returned to the study, picking up his phone to question me: “Olivia, are you controlling the bathtub? Can’t you be less petty?” I frowned: “No matter how generous I am, I can’t accept another woman using my bathtub. Tell her to get out!” “You’re sick.” Just as Jacob was about to scold me, another scream came from the master bathroom: “Ah—” Jacob, without even hanging up the video call, rushed into the master bedroom with his phone. The camera swept across Lily lying naked on the bathroom floor, her body wet. Lily said tearfully: “Jacob, come help me up quickly. I slipped when I got out of the bathtub.” Jacob went over, took a towel to cover Lily, and helped her up. He probably forgot that I could still see everything on my end. How entertaining. I promptly pressed the record button.

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My brother has always hated me. He once told me to my face that he wished I was dead. So I granted his wish and got stomach cancer. But he regretted it. I still died though. With a smile, right in front of him. Jack’s call came just as I arrived home. The diagnosis report in my bag was already crumpled into a ball. He never used to call me on his own initiative before. “It was Dad’s birthday the day before yesterday,” he said. His voice was cold as ice, as always. “Why didn’t you come back…” “Because I didn’t want to,” I cut him off. “You went back, didn’t you? That’s enough.” “Even Tina came back from abroad at the beginning of the month.” Tina was our cousin who had lived with us since childhood. “Well, she was there, wasn’t she? After all, you only treat her like a sister anyway.” The person on the other end seemed to flare up in anger, and called my name in a low voice: “Mia!” I hung up. The last rays of sunset fell into the room. I sat at the desk, tearing the diagnosis report into pieces. As the scraps of paper fluttered down onto the table, my phone screen suddenly lit up. Jack: Mom’s death anniversary is coming up soon.

Jack is my brother. He has always hated me. Because I am the culprit who took away his mother. Over twenty years ago, during a difficult childbirth, I was born at the same time my mother lost her life forever on the operating table. It was a murder disguised as new life. No one welcomed my arrival. Because of me, Dad lost his beloved wife. And Jack lost his mother. This long-standing hatred began from the day I was born, and has continued until today. I didn’t intentionally miss Dad’s birthday. It’s just that on that day, I was in so much abdominal pain I nearly passed out before I realized something was wrong. But actually, if I didn’t go, he might have been more at ease.

Jack didn’t contact me again. I took a deep breath as I stood outside the company building. After graduation, I had joined his company. I worked my way up from the bottom, but no one ever discovered our relationship. The number of times I met with him was even fewer than his meetings with ordinary employees. Last week, a senior executive resigned. This week, they were going to announce the successor. Everyone said the position was mine for sure. At least before I got the diagnosis report, I had thought so too. In the hallway, I happened to run into a colleague. She greeted me and then leaned in with a smile: “Mia, don’t forget to treat us to a big meal when you get promoted.” I smiled and looked down: “It’s not certain yet.” “It’s definitely going to be you,” she linked arms with me. “You’re the best out of everyone here.” As we entered the conference room, Jack was there too. I happened to meet his gaze for a moment, before we both looked away like strangers. “Good morning, Mr. jack.” He didn’t look at me, just nodded. As indifferent as if we hadn’t argued that night at all. People gradually filled up the conference room. Jack cleared his throat, and my colleague immediately winked at me. I lowered my eyes to avoid her gaze. The next second, I heard a familiar name. “Tina .” A familiar figure came in from outside. Slender and graceful, Tina smiled as gently as ever. Jack stood beside her, introducing her to everyone: “Tina has just returned from abroad and will be taking over the position of Deputy Manager.” Some people instinctively looked towards me. I avoided their eyes and looked at the brightly smiling Tina on the stage. The atmosphere in the room seemed to stagnate for a moment. Invisible undercurrents swirled. I smiled and applauded. The scattered applause broke the somewhat eerie atmosphere in the conference room. Tina met my eyes, her eyes curved in a smile.

The coffee smell in the break room was so strong it seemed about to overflow. I stirred it with a spoon, took a sip, and felt some acid reflux as I swallowed. My colleague glared angrily. “How could they? She just parachutes in and steals your position? Are they so blatant about nepotism?” “Mia, aren’t you angry?” “This position was meant for you. You worked so hard, you even almost ended up in the hospital from overworking last time.” Her gaze fell on the shadows under my eyes: “Mia, I’m telling you, you don’t need to work yourself to death like this. Drink less coffee.” The warmth of the coffee seeped through the ceramic mug into my hands. I thanked her quietly: “Mr. jack must have his own considerations.” The girl’s eyes widened, and she was about to complain in a low voice when my phone suddenly rang. Jack’s voice was crystal clear in the small break room, with a hint of suppressed anger: “Mia, come to my office for a moment.” My hand shook, spilling a few drops of coffee onto my white shirt. The heat seeped through the fabric, scalding my skin. I responded softly: “Okay.”

The moment Jack’s office door opened, I saw Tina sitting on the sofa, her head slightly bowed. And a crumpled piece of paper in her hand. While Jack sat there, his face cold and angry. As always. People used to say that although Jack and I came from the same womb, only our eyes looked alike. Upturned at the corners, when not smiling, they naturally carried a cold aloofness that kept people at a distance. Unfortunately, neither of us liked to smile. And Jack had never smiled at me. “Although Tina is parachuting in, she has the ability,” he said. “Mia.” When he called my name, Jack frowned deeply. “If you have complaints, just say them directly. Gossiping behind people’s backs, uniting with colleagues to isolate Tina – Mia, is your viciousness ingrained in your bones?” In just half a day. I glanced sideways at Tina. She happened to look up and meet my eyes. Her face was full of collagen at twenty-something, her eyes red-rimmed, tears reflecting glimmers of light. Then she quickly lowered her head again. All the actors in this farce were in place, just waiting for me to play along. But I really had no interest in acting with them. “What other people say with their own mouths has nothing to do with me.” “Besides -” “Everyone’s not stupid.” A sob and the sound of something falling to the ground rang out simultaneously. The expensive pen that had been on the desk was now shattered. Black ink spread at my feet. “Mia! You…” A light piece of paper fell on his desk. Jack’s words were choked back. When he saw the text clearly, his anger immediately resurged: “Mia!” “Are you still a child?” “Are you throwing a tantrum?” The brand new resignation letter was crumpled into a ball and thrown back at my feet like trash. It’s not a tantrum at all. I’ve known for a long time. I don’t have the right to throw tantrums. Only children who are coddled have that right. And I don’t. “I’ll go to HR myself.” As I closed the door, his roar was also shut out. But I hadn’t gone a few steps before Tina caught up. “Mia.” Her voice still had a nasal tone as she carefully reached for my hand. “Mia, don’t be angry. I don’t want this position. I’ll go tell Jack. Don’t throw a tantrum.” “If I had known, I wouldn’t have come back. Mia, don’t let me ruin the relationship between you and Jack.” There was no one in the hallway. I stopped and looked at her. Tina’s eyes naturally carried an air of innocence and pitifulness. Combined with her slightly reddened eyes and nose tip, she could easily win others’ favor. Just like over ten years ago, when she had first arrived at our home. “Tina .” I stepped closer to her, gripping her chin, “This trick works every time -” “Doesn’t it?” Tina’s face instantly went pale. The elevator arrival chime sounded. I let go of her and turned to walk into the elevator. She seemed not to have recovered, standing rooted to the spot. I smiled at her: “You know very well, there was never any sibling affection between him and me.” “Come to think of it, you’re more like his sister.”

As the elevator doors closed, I saw my expressionless face reflected in them. My abdomen cramped with pain. Actually, in the beginning, my relationship with Jack wasn’t as bad as this. When we were young, although he didn’t like me, he never did or said anything excessive. Compared to Dad who treated me like I was invisible, Jack as a brother was the only person I was close to. Back then I thought, even if Jack didn’t like me, we were still family. That’s what blood ties meant. Until middle school, when Tina came to live with us. That’s when I realized. A brother could actually be so nice to someone else. Not always cold-faced, not telling her to “get lost”, not mocking her sarcastically. That was how a brother should really treat a sister. But Tina wasn’t satisfied. On the fifth day after she transferred to my middle school, when I came home after class, Jack slapped me hard across the face. I held my cheek and stared at him in a daze. He was saying things I couldn’t understand. Leading the bullying. Bad seed. Vicious. Apologize. But when I saw Tina standing behind him, head bowed and clutching his shirt, These scattered words suddenly pieced together into a complete lie in my mind. I tried to explain. But he didn’t believe me. The argument that erupted that day and the obvious favoritism suddenly shattered the naive and foolish thoughts I once had. Jack wasn’t stupid enough to not know right from wrong. It was just that he did it on purpose. I seemed to belatedly realize on that day. My brother truly harbored genuine hatred towards me. My relationship with Jack deteriorated rapidly. But unfortunately, in my foolishness and immaturity at the time, I only thought that rather than having him treat me like a stranger like Dad did, I might as well antagonize him. At least, Jack would see me. The tense relationship between us continued until I was eighteen. At eighteen, I was dragged into hell. After eighteen, my relationship with Jack suddenly became that of strangers. Like a war that abruptly ceased. We no longer argued, no longer lashed out hysterically, no longer confronted each other. Just cold, as if we didn’t know each other at all.

After finishing the paperwork and returning home, the sky outside was completely dark. The street lamps in the neighborhood hadn’t lit up yet. I could only faintly see the warm yellow light shining from the homes across the street. The abdominal pain had persisted from the afternoon until now. I curled up on the sofa. Hunger and pain crawled all over my body. I struggled to get up and open the refrigerator. A nauseating smell of rot hit me. I seemed to recall that the last time I had opened the fridge was over a month ago. I grabbed a handful of vegetables, washed them briefly, and put them on the cutting board. The sound of the knife falling was uneven. Bright red blood dripped onto the green leaves, blooming into a flower with a fishy smell. I was stunned for a moment. The pain grew from the wound. I only then realized that I had cut my hand with the knife. When the impulse arose, I couldn’t suppress it. Old and new scars intertwined, with a new one added. Extending from my arm to my wrist. The knife fell to the ground. I knelt down, gasping for breath. I seemed to be losing more and more control, doing things to harm myself. The doctor said before. When an attack comes, you must take your medication. But I didn’t. She also said to let your loved ones accompany you more. “Mia, interact more with your family, feel loved.” “It’s good for your condition.” But… I looked at the meandering trail of blood. But, I don’t have any family.

I didn’t eat the vegetables I stir-fried last night. They all went into the trash. Hunger and pain intertwined, finally causing me to pass out on the bed. Someone knocked on the door early in the morning. I groggily got up from the sofa and walked to the door, opening a crack. When I saw who was outside, I instantly became wide awake. The man’s brows were frosty as usual, his face expressionless. I instinctively pulled the door shut. The loud sound of metal clashing separated us. I quickly went back to my room to put on a coat and changed into long pants. When I opened the door again, Jack’s gaze fell on my face, icy cold. “Do you need something?” I skipped the pleasantries with him. His gaze lowered, falling on my wrist holding the doorknob. There was a small colorful tattoo there. Jack narrowed his eyes, his voice indifferent: “You got a tattoo on your arm too?” I didn’t respond. Jack seemed to take this as confirmation. His originally apathetic mood stirred again: “Do you have to hang out with that punk and turn yourself into the same kind of trash?” I knew Jack had always had a sharp tongue. When our relationship was at its worst, our words were like poisoned knives, mercilessly stabbing each other. But he couldn’t talk about Zoe. Because she was my only, my best, friend. The faint smell of tobacco from the man’s body entered my nostrils. The veins on my forehead throbbed wildly, making me nauseous. The abdominal pain that had subsided earlier came back with a vengeance. My hand gripped the doorknob tightly, shaking again and again. I finally couldn’t hold back. But the expected slap didn’t land on his face. Instead, he gripped my wrist tightly, the old scars coming into contact with another person’s body heat. I saw the flash of shock on Jack’s face more clearly than ever: “The scars on your wrist…” But before he could finish, I slapped him again. The man’s head tilted slightly to the side, a large red mark blooming on his fair face. I had used a lot of force. Wisps of tobacco smell bound my nerves. A cold fear rose from the soles of my feet, creeping bit by bit over my entire body. I forcefully wrenched my hand from his grip. My wrist was already red. I clasped my own hands tightly, just to keep myself from shaking so badly. “Mia…” “Get out.” I lowered my eyes, staring hard at my feet. “Don’t touch me.” “Get out!”

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