Category: English

The car tore through the rain. Instinctively, Caleb yanked his protégé back from the curb. And a wave of filthy street water soaked me from the knees down. “Rachel’s just a freshman,” he explained, not looking at me. “She’d have a meltdown if her new dress got dirty.” I said nothing. I just stared down at the brand-new white pants I’d bought specifically to meet his mother. I tried to wipe the mud away, but the dark, ugly stain only spread across the fabric. A hollow feeling bloomed in my chest. I looked up at him. “You know what? I think I’ll sit this one out.” … Caleb’s expression froze for a second before Rachel tugged on his arm. “Come on, Caleb, it’s really starting to come down now.” Of course. Her pale pink dress was getting damp, clinging slightly to her frame. Caleb’s umbrella tilted further in her direction, shielding her completely. He shot me an annoyed look. “It’s just a little mud. Are you serious?” “I’m not going.” His brow furrowed. He took Rachel’s hand. “Fine. Have it your way.” He turned. “Let’s go, Rachel.” The umbrella, my only shelter from the downpour, vanished from over my head. I could hear Rachel’s delicate, worried voice drifting back. “Is this okay? Won’t she be mad when you get back…?” Caleb’s arm wrapped around her shoulder. “If she’s mad, that’s not your problem. Get closer, I don’t want you getting sick.” I tilted my head back, letting the rain hit my face. It really was coming down harder now. But there was only one umbrella. And Rachel had been a late addition to our plans. There was never enough room for three. I showered the moment I got back to the dorm, but a familiar stuffiness was already creeping into my sinuses. The start of a cold. My first thought was to tell Caleb. I picked up my phone, then set it back down. I couldn’t help but remember the last time. [I think I’m coming down with something.] [My head is so stuffy, I don’t know if I can make it to class tomorrow.] He’d been in the middle of a gaming session with Rachel, who had the bunk across from mine. He didn’t reply until the match was over. [Damn. That’s wild.] I’d just stared at the screen, my mind a dull blank. A part of me felt a sting of hurt, but another part had known that’s exactly how he would react. But I hadn’t expected what came next. Rachel, who was on voice chat with their team, sniffled softly. Caleb heard it instantly. “What’s wrong, Rachel? You getting sick?” From her top bunk, her eyes met mine for a fleeting, deliberate moment. “It’s just a little cold in here,” she murmured. “I didn’t realize the dorms in Northwood had such bad heating.” And just like that, Caleb quit the game mid-match, earning a stream of curses from his teammates. Twenty minutes later, there was a tap on our ground-floor window. Caleb stood outside, his nose red from the cold, holding up a bag of cold medicine. He handed it through the window to me. “Rachel’s new to campus, Luna,” he instructed. “Look after her, will you? Go get her some hot water or something.” Then, as if the mountain of used tissues on my own desk was invisible, he smiled up at Rachel. “Take this on schedule. I don’t want you calling in sick for Prof. Albright’s presentation and using ‘my makeup won’t set right’ as an excuse. He’ll be pissed, and I’m not covering for you this time.” Rachel crinkled her nose playfully. “I know, I know. Go on, get back to your game before you get banned.” She slid the window shut and glanced at me. “Don’t worry, Luna,” she said, her voice dripping with faux concern. “I won’t actually make you my servant.” … It wasn’t the first time. Not even close. But every time I tried to argue with him, to point out his blatant favoritism, he’d just sigh wearily. “Rachel’s family friends with my academic advisor, Luna. I can’t just ignore her, can I?” This time, I didn’t argue. I just lay in bed, my head splitting. My phone buzzed with a message from an unfamiliar number: [Hey Luna, you okay? Someone in my class said they saw you get caught in the rain this afternoon.] I started to type a reply, my voice catching in my throat. A moment later, a gentle knock echoed from the windowpane. A guy from my department, an underclassman, was standing outside in the downpour. He started passing a small mountain of things through the window. “Here’s a thermos of hot water.” “And I just ran to the pharmacy for this medicine, see if it helps.” “I also ordered you some chicken soup and fruit from a delivery service; they’ll bring it to the lobby in a bit.” I was stunned, speechless. I tried to refuse, but Leo was already backing away, disappearing into the rain. My phone buzzed again. [Sorry if this is weird, Luna. I know you have a boyfriend, but… he doesn’t seem to be taking very good care of you.] Maybe it was the medicine, or maybe it was the sleep, but I felt a little more human when my other roommates returned. They noticed my flushed cheeks and asked how I was feeling. Then the door swung open. Rachel swept in, her arms laden with shopping bags. “Presents for everyone!” she announced, dropping them onto her bed. She held up each item, narrating its origin. A fancy skincare set someone had gifted Caleb’s mother. A stylish new scarf. “Mrs. Evans is so sweet,” Rachel said with a sigh. “She says nice things are wasted on old people and should be given to the young first.” The room went silent. My roommates’ eyes darted nervously toward me. Everyone knew Caleb was my boyfriend. The gifts Rachel was offering suddenly felt radioactive. Wisely, no one said a word. Rachel’s smile widened. “Oh, don’t be silly. Some of these are just samples and travel sizes. Take them! I made it perfectly clear to Mrs. Evans that I’m not Caleb’s girlfriend. She totally gets it.” She padded over to my bunk and looked up at me. “What’s wrong, Luna? You’re awfully quiet. Are you upset that I brought back gifts?” Her expression was pure innocence. “It’s not my fault you decided not to come, you know.” For a long moment, I just closed my eyes. “Take them,” I said to my roommates. “They’re for you.” Only then did they move, murmuring thanks to Rachel as they picked through the items. Like a benevolent queen, she even set one of the smaller bags aside on my desk. I climbed down from my bunk, picked it up, and tossed it back onto her bed. “I don’t want it.” “What’s your problem?” Rachel shot up, deliberately bumping her shoulder into mine as she stood. Already dizzy from the fever, I staggered, grabbing the bed frame to steady myself. She pouted. “I brought that back especially for you. No one else got one.” She paused, a sly grin spreading across her face. “Does it bother you, seeing all the things Caleb’s mom gave me? If you’re that unhappy about it…” I cut her off. “Those things,” I said, my voice cold and clear, “are the gifts I bought for Caleb’s mother. Only you would be proud of receiving hand-me-downs you didn’t earn. Now, apologize.” She stared, dumbfounded. “What did you say?” “You bumped into me,” I repeated, locking my gaze on hers. “Apologize.” Her expression hardened. She crossed her arms. “Apologize? Me?” I didn’t move, didn’t back down. Our roommates froze, watching us. Just then, a knock came at the door. A girl from our program peeked in. “Is Luna here? I have a delivery for her from Leo.” After the girl left, Rachel’s eyes landed on the new items on my desk. A slow, knowing smile spread across her face. “Oohh,” she cooed. “No wonder you were in such a hurry to get back to the dorm.” That night, they were gaming again. In the middle of a team fight, Rachel’s voice suddenly rang out, sweet and poisonous. “Hey, Caleb… you spend so much time with me. Aren’t you worried you’ll get cheated on?” The frantic clicking and shouting on their voice chat went dead silent. Caleb didn’t seem to catch her drift. “Nah, not Luna,” he said dismissively. “She’s not the dramatic type.” I closed my eyes. Under my pillow, my phone vibrated softly. [Hey Luna, are you asleep?] [The girl who dropped off the stuff was just a delivery runner I hired. They won’t let food delivery drivers into the dorms.] [Sorry to bother you so late, I was just worried about you…] I was running late for my 8 AM lecture. When I walked in, Caleb was already there. He waved me over, a breakfast sandwich saving the seat next to him. Usually, I was the one who got here first to save his seat. It was, I knew, his version of an olive branch. He reached for my bag out of habit, but I held onto it, placing it on the other side of me as I sat. Caleb sighed. “Still mad? You ignored all my texts last night. It’s not my fault you decided not to come. My mom’s sick, Luna. I couldn’t just cancel because you were having a moment.” That wasn’t the point. It was never the point. I met his gaze. “When you asked me to come, you said you wanted to bring your girlfriend home to meet your mom.” He frowned. “Yeah. And I came to pick you up.” The absurdity of it was breathtaking. “You came to pick up Rachel.” His brow suddenly relaxed, as if a great mystery had been solved. “Oh, so that’s what this is about.” He leaned in, explaining as if to a child. “Rachel heard my mom wasn’t well and wanted to come pay her respects. We were both going anyway, so we just went together. It was just convenient.” I pressed my lips together. I didn’t have the energy to argue with him about why that was wrong. I’d argued it a hundred times before. I was so, so tired. I pushed the breakfast sandwich back towards him. Just then, a cheerful voice cut through the air. “Luna! You actually saved me a seat? You’re the best!” Caleb froze. He grabbed my arm, his face darkening. “Who is he?” “A freshman from my department.” I pulled my arm away and slid my bag onto my own chair, moving to the outside seat. “You can sit next to him. I don’t want to.” Leo blinked, then quickly recovered, slipping past me to stand next to Caleb. “Hey, man. Sorry about this. Thanks for saving the spot.” Caleb’s jaw was tight as he watched Leo slide into the seat between us. He looked like he was about to explode, but the professor had already walked in and started the lecture. His fingers flew across his phone screen. My pocket buzzed. [What the hell is this, Luna? You’re putting some random guy between us?] [Are you seriously trying to piss me off?!] He was getting more and more agitated. Finally, he shot to his feet. “Yes, you in the back?” the professor asked, a rare smile gracing his stern face. “Eager to answer a question, are we? Excellent. Then please, explain how the third formulation of Kant’s categorical imperative in the Groundwork of the Metaphysic of Morals synthesizes and transcends the first two. What potential dilemma, inherent in the first two formulations, does it seek to resolve?” Caleb stood there, rigid as a statue. The seconds ticked by. The professor’s look of encouragement curdled into one of stern disapproval. He adjusted his glasses. “You can’t answer? What’s your name, son?” To my surprise, Leo raised his hand. “Professor, I can answer that.” He proceeded to deliver a clear, concise explanation that had the professor nodding in approval. At the end, he asked for Leo’s name, then his gaze landed back on Caleb. “And you. What was your name again?” Just before the class ended, Rachel finally arrived, her makeup perfect, slipping in through the back door. She tiptoed down the aisle, located Caleb, and began her usual routine of whispering and gesturing to swap seats until she could squeeze in between us. As she settled in, she saw Leo and her eyes went wide with innocent confusion. “Caleb, what’s going on?” she cooed. “Who’s this guy sitting here~~?” Her voice was sickly sweet. She leaned past Leo to look at me. “And he’s right next to Luna, too.” From the front of the room, the professor’s voice boomed. “The young lady in the back who just arrived. I don’t recall seeing you for the first half of my lecture.” Rachel froze, slowly turning her head. “Professor, I was sitting in a different spot. I couldn’t hear well, so I moved.” “Is that so?” The professor scanned his attendance sheet. He looked up. “Rachel, isn’t it? Then perhaps you can tell us what potential dilemma, inherent in the first two formulations of the categorical imperative, the third formulation seeks to resolve?” That day, both Caleb and Rachel were officially marked down for poor performance. Caleb was furious. He was convinced it was all my fault. He cornered me outside the dorm building that afternoon. “What is wrong with you? Is this still about not seeing my mom? Luna, you were the one who bailed! Why are you taking it out on me now? First you embarrass me in class, then you get Rachel in trouble. Are you happy now?!” His indignation was so absolute, it left me breathless. “You got marked down because of your own actions, didn’t you?” I asked, my voice flat. “I didn’t make you show up late, and I didn’t make you unable to answer the professor’s question.” He sputtered, momentarily lost for words. Rachel appeared at his side, clutching his sleeve. “It’s really me she has a problem with, isn’t it… Just because your mother likes me, she sets us up in class…” She bit her lip, her eyes welling up. “Maybe… maybe this is for the best… Caleb, we should stop hanging out. I don’t want to cause any more trouble between you two.” With that, she turned and hurried into the building. Caleb started to chase after her, but the dorm monitor stopped him at the door. He spun back around to face me, his eyes blazing. “Are you satisfied now? And what about that guy? Why were you saving a seat for him? Explain yourself, Luna!” I just looked at him. He seemed like a stranger. “There’s nothing to explain. He’s just an underclassman. I was looking out for him.” Caleb froze. The excuse—his excuse for Rachel—hung in the air between us. But he recovered quickly, his voice rising as I turned to leave. “Luna, when did you become so unreasonable?!” … The air was still so cold. I rubbed my hands together. Maybe, I thought, the reasonable Luna had frozen to death in the rain. After that day, Caleb went into full-on silent treatment mode. Not only was he attached to Rachel’s hip 24/7, but he also started sending bouquets of roses to her at the dorm every few days. Girls from other floors, unaware of the situation, would gossip. “Is that guy Rachel’s boyfriend? They must have had a fight. He’s sending apology flowers every day, he must be serious.” I looked up from my textbook. “He’s my boyfriend.” The girl who had been gossiping choked on her apple, coughing violently. I handed her a bottle of water. “But,” I added calmly, “we can break up.” … The next day, Caleb was on the warpath. When I didn’t reply to his furious texts, he brought Rachel to the coffee shop where I worked part-time. “Iced Americano, no sugar,” she ordered. I made the drink and brought it to their table. The second her fingers touched the cold glass, she recoiled. “Oh, why is it iced?” She glanced at Caleb and pouted. “Never mind, it’s fine. I mean, you’re his…” A large hand covered hers, stopping her from pushing the drink away. “Why should it be fine?” Caleb’s eyes met mine, hard and challenging. “Is this how your shop operates? Can’t even get a simple order right?” I kept my expression neutral. “The lady ordered an Iced Americano. Iced drinks contain ice.” “Luna, why are you being so difficult…” Rachel whined, her voice thick with fake distress. Caleb squeezed her hand. “It’s okay, babe. I know you’re on your period. You can’t have cold things, and you can’t get upset.” He leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. “Now, I’ve changed my mind. We want one without ice.” I took a deep breath, clinging to my professionalism, and took the coffee back to remake it. When I returned with the new one, Caleb’s smirk widened. “You didn’t just pick the ice out of the old one, did you? Because that would be disgusting. A customer would be very grossed out.” A fire was building in my stomach. “If you find our service disgusting, you are free to leave.” “Nope.” His fingers tapped a rhythm on the table. “You’re the server. And I demand that you serve my friend here until she is completely satisfied.” I turned to walk away. He shot out of his chair and grabbed my wrist. “What, you can’t take it anymore? Is this you throwing a tantrum, Luna? Wasn’t it you who told everyone you wanted to break up with me?” The shop wasn’t empty. He dragged me towards the entrance, his voice rising. “Stop pretending, Luna. You’re pissed seeing me with Rachel, so why are you being so stubborn? I’m going home again next week. I’ll take you to see my mom. How about that?” His tone softened, became wheedling. “You know I only came here today to get you back.” I felt sick. As someone walked past us, I reached out, snatched the milk tea from their hand, and flung its entire contents into Caleb’s face. “LUNA!!!” His face was a mask of pure fury. Thunk. I tossed the empty cup into a nearby trash can. “Now,” I said, meeting his dripping glare. “I’m satisfied.” Rachel gasped, rushing to his side and frantically trying to dab the sticky mess off his face with a napkin. I turned to the person whose drink I’d stolen. “I’m so sorry. Let me buy you a new one.” The air was thick with silence. I looked up and saw Leo, a wide grin spreading across his face. “It was for you anyway, Luna,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “That was awesome.” Caleb’s expression shifted, his gaze flickering from me to Leo. “You again.” Leo’s grin didn’t falter. “Surprise, right?”

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Love. It takes a second to say, a lifetime to prove. Kade spent seven years making me believe in that one-second promise. Then, he spent a single day shattering that belief, burying it in a cold, rainy night along with my blood, my flesh, and the only family I had left. So when I opened my eyes and found myself back at the beginning of the tragedy, I knew my life had been distilled to two simple purposes. First, take my brother, Leo, and run from him. Second, if I couldn’t run, I would drag Kade to hell with me. … The sharp scent of antiseptic filled my nostrils. My eyes snapped open to a familiar white ceiling and a cold crystal chandelier. This was the bedroom of the penthouse Kade and I shared at One Lunar Bay in Oakhaven City. My hand instinctively went to my stomach. It was flat. There was no swell, no gut-wrenching pain. The digital clock on the wall read August 15th, 10:23 AM. I was reborn. I was back on the day I discovered Kade had unilaterally divorced me, the day I went to confront him, pregnant with his child. In my past life, on this very day, I had stormed into his top-floor office at “The Abyss” casino like a madwoman, slamming the doctored copy of my personal information onto his desk. I had demanded to know why. He had only looked at me with cold indifference, as if I were a stranger throwing a tantrum. “Eliza,” he’d said, “it’s time to be sensible.” Standing beside him was that girl, Vivian. She was dressed in a white dress, as pristine as a hothouse flower. She hid behind Kade, peering at me with the wide, frightened eyes of a fawn, as if I were the venomous woman tearing them apart. I lunged to slap her, but Kade’s bodyguards pinned me down. Everything that followed was a nightmare from which I could not wake. My only brother, Leo, in a fit of rage on my behalf, went to confront Kade. Kade’s men broke both his legs and threw him into the pouring rain. He bled out, freezing to death right in front of me. The shock sent me into a miscarriage. I bled all over the white hospital sheets, and finally, my own absurd life ended in a convenient “accidental” car crash. In my final moments, I thought I saw Kade standing nearby, holding an umbrella over his pristine flower, not even bothering to waste a single glance on me. “Heh…” A dry laugh escaped my throat, the corrosive hatred in my chest threatening to consume me whole. I pushed myself up, my stomach churning. Calm down, Eliza. You have to calm down. Fate hadn’t given me a second chance just to relive the agony. I threw off the covers and walked barefoot to the floor-to-ceiling windows. This penthouse was a symbol of power in this city, a kingdom I had helped Kade build, step by step, from the days when he was nothing more than a desperate outlaw. I was the “Queen of Cards” in Oakhaven’s underworld, a name whispered with fear and reverence. My hands had dealt him countless winning hands, and they had been stained with the blood of his enemies. The irony was, once he was firmly seated on his throne as the city’s uncrowned king, he decided I was too dirty. He wanted a clean flower. I stared at my reflection in the glass. My face was pale, but my eyes were as cold as ice. This time, I didn’t want his kingdom. And I certainly didn’t want his love. All I wanted was my brother, Leo. I picked up my phone and dialed a number I knew by heart. It connected quickly, and Leo’s sunny, slightly sleepy voice came through. “Sis? Why are you calling so early? I thought you and Kade were celebrating your birthday today?” My birthday. Right. Today was also my birthday. How fitting. Last time, I had waited with a heart full of joy, expecting a surprise. The surprise he gave me was a divorce and a feast of death. A bitter sting pricked my nose, and I fought back tears. This was not the time to cry. “Leo,” my voice trembled, but I forced it steady. “Listen to me. Pack your most important things right now. Don’t ask any questions. Go to the entrance of the alley in our old neighborhood, the one we used to live in, and wait for me. Hurry!” “Sis? What’s going on?” Leo’s voice was tight with worry. “Don’t ask. Just do what I say. I only have two hours.” I hung up before he could ask anything else and immediately dialed a second number. It was my most trusted man, Caleb. “Boss,” Caleb’s voice was, as always, a steady rock. “Caleb, I need you to liquidate everything. All our secret accounts. Cash out my jewelry, the properties in my name, as fast as you can. Transfer everything to the anonymous Swiss account. And contact the Serpent. I need two tickets on a boat to Southeast Asia tonight. Top price, most secure route.” Caleb was silent for a few seconds, clearly stunned. “Boss, is this about… Kade?” “Don’t ask questions you shouldn’t,” I cut him off. “This stays between you and me. If this leaks, my brother and I, and you, will all end up as fish food in the Oakhaven River.” “I understand,” Caleb’s voice was firm, resolute. “You saved my life, Boss. I’ll get it done, even if it kills me.” After hanging up, I took a deep breath and began to move. I opened a hidden compartment in the walk-in closet. Inside was my personal stash, accumulated over the years: several priceless, limited-edition watches, a few bars of untraceable gold, and a handful of flawlessly forged passports. I had prepared all of this for Kade, a contingency plan in case his empire ever fell and he needed to rise again. Now, it was my escape plan. I packed everything into a nondescript duffel bag, changed into a simple tracksuit, and wiped off my makeup. A baseball cap and a mask completed the disguise. When I was done, I took one last look at this gilded cage. I once thought this was happiness. Now, I saw it for the joke it was. I turned and walked toward the door without a shred of sentimentality. Just as my hand reached for the doorknob, the door swung open from the outside. Kade’s tall frame filled the doorway. He wore a perfectly tailored black suit, his handsome face an emotionless mask. His deep-set eyes, like chips of ice, were fixed on me. My heart plummeted. 2 The sight of Kade froze the blood in my veins. Why was he here? In my last life, he never showed up. He was gone the entire day, not appearing until I hunted him down. My mind raced, my hand tightening on the duffel bag. Kade’s gaze swept over me, from my baseball cap down to my running shoes, finally landing on the bulging bag in my hand. His eyes instantly turned glacial. “Where are you going?” he asked, his voice low, heavy with a pressure that permitted no argument. The me from my past life would have probably dropped the bag, stammering out a clumsy explanation. But now, I just calmly met his gaze. “Out,” I said simply. “For some air.” “Dressed like that? Going for a hike?” A sarcastic smirk touched his lips as he advanced on me, step by step. The force of his presence was overwhelming. I could smell the familiar scent on him—a cool, clean fragrance mixed with the faint trace of tobacco. A scent I had once been infatuated with. Now, it just made me sick. “Is there a problem?” I retorted, my voice flat. My composure clearly took him by surprise. In his world, Eliza was the woman who would coo and cry and wear her heart on her sleeve. He narrowed his eyes, studying me, searching for a crack in my façade. “Eliza,” he said, and his hand shot out, snatching the bag from me. He yanked the zipper open, and the gold bars and passports inside spilled into view. “You had better give me a very good explanation.” I looked at him and laughed coldly in my head. An explanation? Why should I explain myself to the man who was about to cast me aside? “The explanation,” I said, each word clear and deliberate, “is that we’re done, Kade.” The air went still. The last trace of warmth vanished from his face, replaced by a terrifying, dark fury. He grabbed my wrist, his grip so tight I thought the bones would shatter. “Say that again,” he hissed, the words ground out from between his teeth. “I said, we’re done.” I ignored the searing pain in my wrist and held his gaze without flinching. “You already had my marital status changed to ‘divorced,’ didn’t you? What, you have the guts to do it but not to admit it?” Kade’s pupils contracted. He clearly hadn’t expected me to find out so soon. In my past life, I’d overheard it from a subordinate by accident. This time, I was just bluffing. But his reaction told me I’d hit the mark. He released my wrist, his expression reverting to its usual cold mask, as if his momentary rage had been a figment of my imagination. “Since you know, why didn’t you make a scene?” he asked, his tone probing. “What’s the point?” I gave a self-mocking smile. “If I make a scene, will you change ‘divorced’ back to ‘married’? If I make a scene, will you take your heart back from that girl, Vivian?” At the mention of her name, Kade’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. “This has nothing to do with her.” “Oh, really?” I stared at him, my eyes full of scorn. “Kade, I know you better than anyone. You never do anything without a purpose. You pulled her from the card-washing tables at The Abyss, gave her a place to live, and put her under twenty-four-hour protection. Now you’re in a rush to cut ties with me. Don’t you dare tell me you’re not trying to make her a respectable woman.” My words were a knife, slicing through his pretense. His face darkened completely. “Eliza, my affairs are none of your business.” He spoke coldly. “I’ll pretend I didn’t see any of this. From now on, you will stay put at One Lunar Bay. You are not to go anywhere.” With that, he tossed the bag onto the floor and turned to leave. “Kade!” I called out. He stopped but didn’t turn around. “Today is my birthday,” I said. My voice was soft, but it pierced the dead silence like a needle. His back stiffened for a fraction of a second. “I forgot,” he said after a long pause. Then he walked out without another glance. The door slammed shut with a deafening bang, sealing two worlds apart. All the strength drained out of me. I slowly sank to the floor, burying my face in my knees. I forgot. With three simple words, he had erased seven years of my devotion. From the day he had nothing to his name until the day he ruled Oakhaven, I had remembered every important date, every small detail. His stomach was weak, so I learned to make soup. He was a light sleeper, so I learned to breathe softly beside him. When he was in danger, I would have taken a bullet for him without a second thought. I thought I had warmed a block of ice. It turned out it wasn’t ice. It was a stone, one that could never be warmed. Tears finally fell, betraying me. But this time, I didn’t let myself drown in sorrow. I wiped my eyes and forced myself to my feet. He thought locking me in here would be enough? That I was a bird in a cage? He seriously underestimated me. I walked to the window and watched Kade’s car pull away from the building. Plan A had failed, but I couldn’t just sit here and wait for the end. I picked up my phone and sent a message to Caleb. Change of plans. Proceed with Plan B. And one more thing, I need you to find out what Kade’s rival, ‘Mad Dog’ Marcus from the West Side, has been up to lately. 3 Kade had placed me under house arrest. Four stone-faced bodyguards now stood outside the door to the penthouse, working in shifts, never leaving their post. My phone was confiscated, the landline was cut, and the internet was shut off. He wanted to turn me into an isolated island. But he forgot one crucial detail: I was the one who helped him build this island. I knew every secret escape route. Using a backup phone hidden in a wall cavity, I contacted Caleb. “Boss, I’ve got news on Mad Dog. He’s fighting Kade for the development rights to that new casino plot in the South Hills. Tensions are high. Word on the street is, Mad Dog is planning to make a move on the person Kade cares about most.” A cold smile played on my lips as I listened. The person he cares about most? Right now, all of Oakhaven knew that the person Kade cared about most was the girl he had tucked away in a secret love nest, Vivian. “Caleb, do me a favor. ‘Accidentally’ leak Vivian’s schedule for today to Mad Dog’s crew.” Caleb hesitated. “Boss, if we do that, Miss Vivian will be in real danger.” “I know,” I said, my voice devoid of warmth. “I’m counting on it.” I didn’t expect Mad Dog’s thugs to actually harm her; Kade protected her like the crown jewels. I just needed a diversion. A chance to get away. And Vivian was the perfect bait. “One more thing,” I added after a pause. “Find a doctor, someone you trust with your life. Get some things ready and wait for me at the old place. And be quick.” “Understood.” I hung up and began to wait. I knew Kade would be coming for me soon. Sure enough, he returned at dusk, radiating a murderous aura. He kicked open the bedroom door and stormed over to me, grabbing me by the collar and slamming me against the wall. “It was you, wasn’t it?” His eyes were bloodshot, like those of a cornered beast. “You were the one who leaked Vivian’s location to Mad Dog!” My back hit the cold wall with a painful thud, making me gasp. But I smiled. “What if it was? What if it wasn’t?” I met his savage gaze without backing down. “Kade, what makes you think I’m still the same woman who cleans up the messes from your little affairs?” “Eliza!” he roared, his grip tightening. “I’m warning you, don’t you dare touch her! If you have a problem, you come at me!” “Come at you?” I laughed, a bright, sharp sound. “I’d love to. But you won’t even let me out the door. What’s a girl to do? I had no choice but to ask your little sweetheart to act out a scene for me.” “You’re being completely unreasonable!” Kade was trembling with rage. He had probably never seen this side of me—unyielding, even vicious. “Unreasonable?” I dropped my smile, my eyes turning to ice. “Kade, don’t you forget who walked through fire and fought at your side to get you where you are today! It was me, Eliza! When Mad Dog had a gun to your head, who took a knife for you? Me! Now that you’re on top, you kick me to the curb to protect some sniveling woman who does nothing but hide behind you. You want to talk to me about being reasonable?” My questions hit him like hammer blows. The fury in his eyes slowly faded, replaced by something complex and unreadable. He let go of me and took a step back, his tone softening slightly. “Eliza, whatever is between us, let’s not drag innocent people into it.” Eliza. How long had it been since he’d called me that, with that soft inflection? For a fleeting moment, I almost believed he still had some feelings for me. But I knew better. This was just a tactic to pacify me. “Innocent?” I scoffed. “Kade, in this godforsaken city, nobody is truly innocent. She chose you. She should have been prepared for the consequences.” “What is it you want?” His patience was clearly wearing thin. “It’s simple,” I said, looking him straight in the eye. “Let me go. I’ll take my brother and leave Oakhaven. We’ll never come back. Our debt to each other will be paid.” “Impossible,” he refused without a second thought. “Why?” “There is no why,” he said, turning his face away. “Eliza, stop pushing my buttons.” I understood then. It wasn’t that he couldn’t bear to let me go. It was that he couldn’t allow his possession to escape his control. It was his pathetic, laughable kingly pride. “Fine,” I nodded, a strange smile gracing my lips. “If you won’t let me go, then we’ll see who breaks first. I wonder who has more stamina—your delicate little flower, or my worthless life.” Without another word, I turned, walked to the bed, and pulled the covers over myself, closing my eyes. I knew my words had planted a thorn in his mind. The one thing he feared most was my reckless streak, the fact that when pushed, I didn’t care if I lived or died. Kade stood there for a long time, so long I almost drifted off to sleep. Finally, I heard his footsteps recede. The door closed again, but this time, it wasn’t locked. My chance had come.

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For the tenth year of being Liam’s shadow, he got bored. He posted a picture of me on his Instagram story with a caption. “Gofer for sale. Great cook, on-call 24/7. Highest bidder wins.” The girl he liked was the first to view it. Ten minutes later, he deleted the story and posted a new one, a simple text screen. “Lost a bet. Just a dare, don’t mind it.” But someone already had. Liam’s friend with the eating disorder called me immediately. The price he offered was staggering, just for me to be his chef. I took the money. 1 The call from Alex came while I was in the middle of cooking. I answered it on speaker. “Is this Lily? This is Alex.” “Yes, this is she. What’s up?” I was a little confused. I had no idea why Alex would be calling me. During freshman orientation at A-University, we were all forced to live in the dorms, and Alex had been Liam’s roommate. After that first month, they both moved into apartments off-campus, but they’d stayed good friends. I didn’t know him well, just a few passing encounters through Liam. “I saw Liam’s story,” he said. “I remember you’re an amazing cook. Would you consider coming to work for me?” Alex laid it all out in a few sentences, then asked, “Three thousand a month, how does that sound? If that’s not enough…” “Wait,” I cut him off, my brain finally catching up. “What story?” With the phone still on speaker, I switched apps and tapped on Liam’s profile. There was nothing new. Alex paused. His deep voice held a note of confusion. “You didn’t see it?” A moment later, he sent me a screenshot. Liam had posted it two minutes ago, and he’d deliberately hidden it from my view. [Gofer for sale. Great cook, on-call 24/7. Highest bidder wins.] In the corner, a familiar profile picture was the first viewer. It was my roommate, Tiffany. The same Tiffany that Liam had been telling everyone he was going to win over. My heart felt like a chunk of it had been ripped out. I stood there, frozen. “I need a chef.” Alex’s cool, collected voice pulled me back. “The price is negotiable.” “…Okay.” My own voice trembled as I clutched the phone and agreed. After hanging up, I looked at the feast I had just prepared. It was laughable. My dad worked as a driver for the Davis family. My mom was their housekeeper. So, since I was a child, I’d lived in the staff quarters on their massive estate. Liam loved to have me around, and he insisted I go to school with him. For ten years. When it was time for college applications, there were other cities I wanted to go to, but after a bit of whining from Liam, I caved and came with him to A-University. Ten years of constant companionship. I thought we were best friends. I secretly started to feel something more. Until college, when Liam saw Tiffany. It was love at first sight for him. He was constantly asking me for advice on how to get her. My heart sank, but I accepted it quietly and agreed to help. Even if we couldn’t be anything more, all those years of friendship had to mean something. Until I saw that story. So, in Liam’s heart, I wasn’t even a friend. Just a “gofer” he could sell off at will. Since we started college, Liam, with his picky palate, couldn’t stand the cafeteria food or takeout, so I made time every day to cook for him. He’d skip his easy elective classes, and I’d attend for him and do his homework. If he needed someone to run an errand or grab him a drink, I took care of it. Thinking about it now, it’s no wonder he thought I was a gofer he could just “transfer.” And it was my own fault for being so naive, for genuinely thinking a rich kid like Liam would ever see me as a true friend. With a bitter laugh, I took a picture of the food I’d just made and sent it to Alex. Just finished cooking. Want to eat now? I can bring it over. Alex replied instantly. Yes. Then he sent me two hundred dollars and an address. With money in my account, the sadness subsided, replaced by a surge of anger. Liam never paid me a dime, so what right did he have to treat me like a servant? To sell me? Alex was far more generous. Just as I was about to head out, Alex sent another screenshot of Liam’s story. [Lost a bet. Just a dare, don’t mind it.] Sorry, it seems he was just joking. My mistake for being so forward. A joke? My chest tightened. Even if it was a joke, it just proved that to Liam, I was nothing more than the butt of one. I replied to Alex: It’s fine. Our deal still stands. Great. Alex sent a sticker of a puppy with the word “Waiting!” I stared at the cheerful little dog and fell silent. From his cool exterior, I never would have guessed Alex was the type to use cute stickers. 2 One of my roommates was a local from A-City and had gone to the same high school as Alex. According to her, Alex had a reputation for being cold and unapproachable. He had the face of a stoic god but a mouth that could cut you down to size, and he didn’t give anyone the time of day. I started to worry. If he didn’t like my food, would he yell at me? I could handle being yelled at, but would he ask for the money back? It was two hundred bucks, after all. Anxiously, I followed the address to Alex’s house. I found myself standing in front of a two-story standalone villa. I stood there for a moment. Why couldn’t the world have just one more rich person, and why couldn’t it be me? I rang the doorbell. Alex opened the door, his face unnervingly pale. I blinked, a question forming in my mind. Was he always this thin? He was wearing a baggy black t-shirt. His wide-boned shoulders filled it out at the top, but the rest of it just hung off his frame. The skin on his face was stretched taut over his bones, making his already sharp features look even more sculpted. “Are you sick?” I asked after a quick hello. He seemed surprised by my directness, hesitating for a second before humming a quiet “mmhmm.” Good thing I’d made a relatively light meal. I stepped inside and unpacked the food from the insulated containers. “This was a bit last-minute. If there’s anything you don’t like, just let me know.” “Okay.” But clearly, my worries were for nothing. In less than ten minutes, like a storm passing through, Alex had eaten every last bite. He looked like he hadn’t eaten in days. But that made no sense. It’s not like he couldn’t afford food. I didn’t dwell on it. Seeing that he was finished, I got ready to clean up. “I’ll do it.” Alex beat me to it, carrying the dishes to the kitchen. Huh… a pretty decent boss. I sat in the living room scrolling through my phone and saw a message from Liam. Where are you? Tiffany said she wants to try that one dish from our hometown. I remember you’re great at it, you should add it to the menu tonight. Oh, and she doesn’t like onions. You haven’t finished cooking today, have you? Never mind, if you’re short on time, just make a few extra dishes without onions. Did he really think I was his personal, live-in chef? This is the 21st century! Nope. I replied decisively. I’ve been sold. You’re on your own from now on. The “is typing…” bubble on his end appeared and disappeared for a long time, but no message came through. Alex walked out of the kitchen, pulled out his phone without a word, and sent me the three thousand dollars. He didn’t speak, but money whispered. I looked at my bank balance and felt a thrill of joy. If I had to be a gofer, I’d rather be his. In the end, Alex and I happily came to an agreement. I would cook lunch and dinner for him. On days I didn’t have class, I’d come over at the scheduled times. On days I had class, I’d cook in advance and leave the food in a warming cabinet for him. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was getting paid way too much for just cooking. So, I decided I would be his loyal minion, on-call 24/7. 3 Liam called, a hint of guilt in his voice. “You saw the story, didn’t you?” I stayed silent. “I didn’t mean it like that, it was just a joke.” I still didn’t say anything. Liam’s voice grew more urgent. “Didn’t I post right after that it was fake? I didn’t actually mean to sell you off.” Then, a girl’s voice came through the phone. “Liam, you and Lily were always so close. It’s natural for her to be upset. Just give her some space to cool down, okay? Why don’t we go get some sushi?” It was Tiffany. Hearing her, Liam seemed to make up his mind. “You need to think this through. I can’t keep you by my side forever.” Then he hung up. I was speechless. Keep me by his side? Had he been watching too much melodrama? Any lingering trace of affection I had for him evaporated. I blocked him on everything. I’m not an idiot. When I realized I liked Liam in college, I bent over backward for him, helping him with everything. Even when he fell for Tiffany, I suppressed my own feelings to help him win her over. The problem was, Tiffany was always bothered by me being around Liam. So, to put her mind at ease, Liam chose this method to draw a line in the sand. To make it clear that I was just a gofer he could get rid of whenever he pleased. If that’s how it was, then there was no point in me sticking around to be humiliated. I started my new routine, splitting my time between campus and Alex’s villa. His place was close to school, only a twenty-minute walk. But Alex, saying he didn’t want me to waste time, got me a brand-new, top-of-the-line electric scooter. The moment the keys were in my hand, I was moved beyond words. How could anyone say it doesn’t matter who you’re with? Sucking up to Alex got me everything. Sucking up to Liam only got me hurt. 4 After that day, the vibe in our dorm room became tense. Tiffany would constantly talk about the new designer bag Liam bought her, or the fancy restaurant he took her to, going on and on about how good he was to her. But no one engaged. I was exhausted from running back and forth all day, cooking and studying. At night, all I wanted to do was sleep. My other two roommates were either lost in their TV shows or buried in their books. After a week of being ignored, Tiffany snapped. After class, I hopped on my new scooter, ready to zip over to Alex’s. I twisted the throttle, but the scooter didn’t move. A force was holding it back. I looked behind me. It was Liam, grabbing the back of my seat. He frowned. “Lily, I know you have a problem with Tiffany, but you can’t gang up on her with your roommates.” Gang up on her? We were both speaking English, but I had no idea what he was talking about. “Did I hit her? Did I curse her out?” Liam’s face flushed. “She said you and your roommates are giving her the silent treatment!” I let out a cold laugh. “Lily, we’ve been friends for so many years. She’s my girlfriend, can’t you have a little dignity?” Friends? Dignity? Who was the one who announced to the world I was his gofer? Who was the one without dignity? Who was the one who made me part of his twisted game? There was no point in arguing. I said coldly, “Let go. I’m in a hurry.” Liam didn’t release his grip, his face a mask of disappointment. “You’re only doing this because I like Tiffany, aren’t you? Lily, even if we can’t be together, we’re still friends.” “And I don’t like you. It has nothing to do with Tiffany. Even if she wasn’t in the picture, it would still be impossible for us. After all these years, if it was going to happen, it would have happened already. You don’t need to take it out on her.” He was just saying whatever popped into his head. But… So he knew how I felt about him all this time. Which means he asked for my help with Tiffany on purpose. I looked down, a sarcastic smile playing on my lips. Liam thought I was admitting guilt. He said, in a patronizing tone, “Lily, I think it’s time for you to start dating.” “I have a few buddies, all good guys, you’ve met them. I can set you up.” He listed a few names. “You’ve met Alex, too, but don’t even think about it. His standards are really high…” “Dude, are you gonna be a while?” A familiar voice cut him off. A hand clapped him on the shoulder. Liam turned to see Alex walk past him, swing a long leg over, and settle onto the back of my scooter. “We’re in a hurry to get home for dinner. Just text her if you have something to say.” Alex’s voice was lazy. “Alex?” Liam stared, looking from him to me, as if a lightbulb had just gone off in his head. “No wonder you had the guts to block me. You found a new target.” He sneered. “Lily, your affections are pretty cheap, aren’t they?” Alex let out a soft sigh. “Cheap? Weren’t you just telling her to find a boyfriend? Now that she has, you’re not happy about it.” Liam’s expression shifted. “Alex, are you serious?” “Mmhmm.” Alex was noncommittal. “I’m pursuing her.” I felt my face flush. Alex was practically a campus legend at A-University. My patron was using his own reputation to help me save face. The loyalty was real. The air grew thick with tension. Liam took a step back, his breath catching as he laughed coldly. “Alex, don’t you know that Lily, she…” “Liam!” Tiffany appeared at the perfect moment, grabbing his arm. “It’s fine,” she said softly. “You don’t have to fight my battles for me. I’m moving out soon anyway.” Liam seemed to remember something, and his expression calmed. “Stop pretending. You’re just trying to get a reaction out of me, aren’t you?” His gaze swept over my face. “Bullying Tiffany out of jealousy on one hand, and putting on a show with Alex on the other. You’ve got a lot of moves, but I’m not falling for it.” Liam pulled Tiffany away. As he passed Alex, he muttered, “I don’t know what Lily’s paying you, but you don’t have to play along with her act…” A weight settled on my back as Alex’s head rested against me. His hair was soft, but it tickled, sending a pleasant shiver from where we touched all the way up to my scalp. I stiffened slightly. “Let’s go. I’m hungry.” His usually clear voice was low and a bit husky, almost sounding like… he was whining? I shuddered, shaking the strange thought from my head. Ignoring whatever expression Liam had on his face, I twisted the throttle, and the scooter shot forward. 5 Back at his place, I felt a pang of guilt. “I’m sorry. You got dragged into my drama with Liam, and it’s affecting your friendship.” After all, they were good friends. I only knew Alex because of Liam. I remembered the first time I met him. They had all gone out drinking, and Liam had called me to pick him up. When I got there, everyone was wasted except for Alex. He wasn’t as thin back then. He was leaning back on a sofa, half his face cloaked in shadow, a couple of buttons on his black shirt undone. His profile was sharp and handsome, and he was still holding a glass between his long, pale fingers. “Here for Liam?” he’d asked in a low voice. I nodded, spotting Liam asleep on his side on another couch. I was about to help him up when Alex moved faster, pulling him to his feet. “Let’s go,” he said flatly. I was a bit embarrassed. “I can get him, you don’t have to…” “It’s fine. I was leaving anyway.” Alex helped Liam into the elevator and got him into the car downstairs before disappearing. After that, I’d see Alex whenever I went to find Liam. They even took the same elective courses. When I sat in on Liam’s classes, I’d often see Alex. He’d even save me a seat sometimes. Alex’s voice pulled me back to the present. He lowered his long lashes, his gaze searching. “Is that the only thing you wanted to say to me?” “Uh…” I remembered how he’d stood up for me in front of Liam, how angry he’d made him. I had to show my gratitude. “Maybe…” I asked tentatively. “Do you need help with your elective homework?” The professor for the class I took for Liam had assigned two short papers, which I’d already finished. Now that Liam and I were on the outs, there was no reason to give them to him. Alex paused, then looked down and smiled, a hint of resignation in his expression. “Yes.” The next second, my phone buzzed with a notification: a transfer of two hundred dollars. I fought to keep my lips from curling into a grin. “Oh, you really don’t have to do that.” “Take it,” Alex said, his tone leaving no room for argument. So, I “reluctantly” accepted. A few days later, Liam texted me from a new number. Let’s see how long you can keep up this act. I hope you can keep it up in front of your parents. My parents? I scoffed. When Tiffany moved out, she made sure to warn me not to bother Liam anymore. She also said that once she and Liam were married, the first thing she’d do was have my driver dad and housekeeper mom fired. It was pretty clear what kinds of things Liam must have been telling her. I needed to get my family away from the Davises, and soon.

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At sixty, I was a legend in my field. After a lifetime of achievement, I returned to my homeland to accept a lifetime professorship at a top university. But my husband and son dragged me before the Tribunal. The charges: treason, intellectual theft, and a betrayal of the nation that had raised me. If found guilty, the sentence was summary execution. They pleaded with me, their voices dripping with false concern, urging me to see the error of my ways. All I had to do was surrender my patents to the “true victim,” and my sentence would be commuted to a mere twenty years in prison. After that, I could return to a “normal life.” I looked at them, at the faces of the two men I loved most, and shook my head with unwavering resolve. “I accept the judgment.” 1 At sixty, my hair was already streaked with silver. Looking at my husband, no longer a young man, and our son, on the cusp of adulthood, a wave of guilt washed over me. I had been so consumed by my work, so absent from their lives. That, combined with a deep, gnawing homesickness, had made my decision for me. It was time to bring my family home. My return was heralded as a national event. Armed with countless patents and a lifetime of accolades, I was immediately appointed a tenured honorary professor at Archwood University, the country’s most prestigious institution. I thought, finally, I could rest. I thought I could enjoy the quiet twilight of my life with my family. Instead, my husband, Richard, and my son, Leo, filed a formal accusation against me at the Tribunal. 【Once a trial begins, it cannot be stopped. If the accused is found guilty, they will face unspeakable torment before the final sentence is carried out.】 【Accusers Richard and Leo Reed, do you formally charge the defendant, Dr. Evelyn Reed, with the crimes of treason, intellectual theft, and betrayal of the state for personal gain?】 I was seized and brought to the stand, exposed under the glare of a thousand lights and a million watching eyes. The Tribunal had existed for nearly a decade, but it was rarely convened. Its purpose was to judge only the most monstrous of criminals. The news of a new trial had drawn a massive crowd, and the global livestream had already surpassed ten million viewers. Across from me, Richard looked at me with a pained, loving expression. “Evelyn, my love. Just admit your mistake. Sign over the patents you stole from Catherine Kane. That’s all you have to do. You don’t have to go through this.” My son Leo’s gaze was pure venom. “How could I have a traitor for a mother? You make me sick,” he spat. “You’d better give the patents back to Aunt Catherine and divorce my father. You’ve already lived a life of luxury on the back of your country. Don’t be so greedy. Twenty years in prison is more than you deserve.” A shocked murmur rippled through the crowd. “I knew it! The Tribunal only ever tries the worst of the worst. A traitor who sold out her own country… Forget the trial, just execute her now!” “Wait, I recognize her. Isn’t that the new professor from Archwood? A traitor? There must be some mistake.” “A mistake? Her own husband and son are the ones who turned her in. What mistake could there be?” The outrage in the hall was palpable, and the livestream chat exploded with fury. Patriotism is a raw nerve, and the word “traitor” had ignited a firestorm. The calls for my immediate execution were deafening. I looked from my husband and son to the woman standing in the front row of the audience. Catherine Kane. She hadn’t changed much. Still elegant, still beautiful. I, on the other hand, was stooped from a lifetime hunched over lab benches and research papers. She offered me a small, triumphant smile. A smile that said, You may have overshadowed me for decades, but look who has your husband and son on her side now. A bitter, ironic laugh escaped my lips. I turned to the Chief Justice, my voice clear and steady. “I accept the judgment.” 2 The crowd gasped, surprised by my defiance. Richard shook his head, a look of pity and scorn on his face. “However,” I continued, my voice cutting through the noise, “I request that the proceedings be held in private.” “Accusers Richard and Leo Reed, do you consent to the defendant’s request?” the Chief Justice asked, his tone grave. Richard turned to Catherine. “Catherine, you are the victim here. The decision is yours.” Her eyes flickered. “Evelyn is a renowned scientist, after all,” she said, her voice soft and gentle. “Let’s grant her this final dignity. A private trial is fine.” Richard looked at her, his expression softening with adoration. “You’re too kind, Catherine. After everything she’s done to you.” The viewers on the livestream were furious. 【A private trial? She’s obviously guilty and trying to hide it! What’s the point of watching if we can’t see the evidence?】 【Her own family turned her in. What more do we need to know? Just declare her a traitor and be done with it.】 The discontent from the crowd and the internet had no effect on the Chief Justice. His face was a mask of impartiality as he declared, “The trial of Dr. Evelyn Reed, on the charges of treason, intellectual theft, and betrayal of the state, as brought forth by Richard and Leo Reed, is now in session.” “The prosecution will have four opportunities to present evidence. If any single charge is proven, the defendant will be found guilty. The Tribunal will extract and review the relevant memories of all parties to ensure a just verdict.” “The prosecution may present its first piece of evidence.” Richard gave me one last look of disappointment. “For the first charge, I accuse Evelyn Reed of using shameless means to steal Catherine Kane’s state-sponsored scholarship for overseas study.” As he spoke, his memory materialized on the massive screen above us. It was forty years ago. A young Richard was holding a tearful Catherine in his arms. “The professor promised it to me,” she sobbed. “Why did they give the spot to Evelyn Reed in the end?” “Richard, what am I going to do? The university’s budget is tight. This might have been the last fully-funded scholarship to America.” The memory faded. The crowd began to mutter. “Forty years ago… a scholarship to study in America was a golden ticket! How could she steal that from someone?” “The last one. This Catherine woman doesn’t look like she came from a wealthy family. Without that funding, her dreams were probably crushed. Evelyn Reed ruined her life!” “They said she stole achievements, too. Looks like she’s a career thief.” The Chief Justice turned to me. “Defendant, is the accuser’s claim that you stole Catherine Kane’s scholarship true?” I gave a casual nod. “If you want to put it that way, then in a manner of speaking, I suppose I did.” My indifferent attitude made Richard’s face flush with anger. “So you admit it!” he choked out, his voice trembling. “You stole Catherine’s chance, and after all these years, you still feel no remorse!” Catherine covered her face, her shoulders shaking with sobs. Suddenly, the Chief Justice’s cold voice cut through the drama. “Verdict on the first charge: Not Guilty. The prosecution may proceed with its next piece of evidence.” The courtroom erupted. “What? She just confessed! How can it be ‘Not Guilty’? The Tribunal must have been bribed!” My husband and son were equally stunned, shouting for my memories to be made public. The protest grew so loud, challenging the very integrity of the Tribunal, that the Chief Justice turned to me. “For the honor of this court, I ask for your consent to make this memory public.” I looked at the furious, self-righteous faces of my husband and son. “Show it,” I said. I hoped they were ready for the truth. 3 My memory filled the screen. Forty years ago. I was on the phone, my voice filled with disbelief. “What? Professor Williams has been suspended over a sex scandal?” The voice on the other end was crystal clear, echoing through the silent courtroom. “That’s right. Your classmate, Catherine Kane, is also being investigated for soliciting favors in exchange for grades and recommendations.” “Professor Williams had already removed your name from the scholarship list and replaced it with hers. Now that they’re both under investigation, the scholarship has been reinstated to you. Pack your bags, Dr. Reed. You’re going to America.” The memory ended, leaving the audience in stunned silence. “So… Catherine stole Evelyn’s scholarship, and then Evelyn got it back?” “You can’t call that stealing! The spot was rightfully hers to begin with! Catherine bribed her way onto the list. What a hypocrite, playing the victim all these years!” Richard and Leo stared at Catherine, their faces a mixture of confusion and disbelief. Catherine’s expression froze. She shook her head desperately. “Richard, you know me. I would never do something like that! It was Professor Williams… he forced himself on me! I fought him off, and I even had evidence of him harassing other students.” “He probably gave me the scholarship to buy my silence,” she continued, her voice trembling. “I had no idea it was originally Evelyn’s. It seems… I’ve misunderstood her all this time.” Richard let out a sigh of relief. “I knew it, Catherine. I knew you could never do something like that. This memory of Evelyn’s must be a fabrication, something she invented to slander you.” “Don’t worry,” he said, turning to me with renewed disgust. “The next charge will stick. I accuse Evelyn Reed of stealing state secrets and research for personal glory!” He glared at me. “I can’t believe you would twist your own memories to smear Catherine. You truly disgust me.” I let out a dry laugh. The man I had shared a bed with for decades would rather believe a near-stranger than his own wife. How utterly pathetic. This time, it was Catherine’s memory that appeared on the screen. Thirty years ago. Catherine, dressed in a white lab coat, was on an overseas call, her voice trembling with excitement. “Evelyn Reed, the Starship Project is about to launch.” “You may have held me down all these years. The state may have poured all its resources into you. You may have stolen my scholarship. But it doesn’t matter now. The first starship will be my creation. My name, Catherine Kane, will be written in the annals of history, while you will be nothing but a footnote.” But just as the nation was preparing to announce the Starship Project, America made a preemptive declaration. They had already filed the patents for the key technologies, creating a complete monopoly. Our country, its most advanced project suddenly crippled, could only watch as the American starship program took off with great fanfare. When the memory ended, any voices that had been speaking in my defense fell silent. “There’s no defending her this time. That’s pure treason! Our country had a breakthrough, and she handed the secrets to America for a pat on the head.” “Still, Catherine seems pretty stupid. If the project was that secret, why would she just call someone and tell them about it?” “Don’t blame the victim! How was she supposed to know Evelyn was a monster?” The Chief Justice fixed his gaze on me. “Defendant, is the accuser’s claim that you stole the research true?” I shrugged. “Catherine never had any technology worth stealing. But yes, I did ensure America patented the project first.” My casual demeanor only enraged the crowd further. “Disgusting! And she admits it so freely! Surely the verdict will be guilty this time!” The Chief Justice reviewed my memory for comparison. The process was swift. “Verdict on the second charge: Not Guilty. The prosecution may proceed.”

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My crawfish boil arrived. My boyfriend, Liam, went downstairs to get it but came back empty-handed. He said the delivery guy slipped, and the bag was a total loss. Funny, because his little protégé just updated her Instagram story. A picture of my exact order. “Was craving crawfish so bad, and then my knight in shining armor appeared! Thanks for the hookup, Dr. Hayes!” I let out a cold laugh, picked up my phone, and dialed 9-1-1. “Hello, 9-1-1? I’d like to report a theft. I believe my food delivery was stolen…” 01 I didn’t even finish the sentence before Liam snatched the phone from my hand, his face red with anger, and hung up. “Ava, what the hell? It’s a minor thing. You’re calling the cops? You’re wasting public resources, wasting their time.” “I told you it spilled,” he said, his voice rising. “Do you not understand English? Or do you just not trust me?” He was furious, immediately on the offensive. I grabbed my phone back and, staring him dead in the eye, opened Chloe’s Instagram. I held the screen up to his face. His jaw tightened. “Fine! I gave the crawfish to Chloe. I ran into her by the elevator when she was taking out her trash. She said she was hungry, so I gave it to her. She’s just an intern, a young woman in a new city. Are you really going to pick a fight over this?” Caught in a lie, he didn’t even flinch. He just doubled down. I had to wonder if I’d been letting him get away with too much lately, because his sense of entitlement was staggering. Chloe was the daughter of Liam’s mentor from his residency. Three months ago, she’d started as an intern in his department. Under the guise of “repaying a favor” to his mentor, Liam had been bending over backward. He never takes interns, but he made an exception for her. Then, without telling me, he rented an apartment for her in our building, just two floors down. He gives her a ride to and from the hospital every single day. His excuse was that it wasn’t safe for a young woman to live alone, and this way, he could “keep an eye on her.” Day in and day out, it was always, “Ava, you have to understand,” or “Ava, just be patient.” Today, I was done being patient. “What, is she destitute? Is she starving?” I snapped. “If she wants food, she can order it herself. Since when do you hijack my dinner? What is this, poker? You just intercept the deal?” My voice was rising, matching his. “How can you talk like that? It’s one order of crawfish. Why are you blowing this out of proportion? You’re always making a scene!” “Are you going downstairs to get my food back from her right now, or am I letting the police handle it?” I held up my phone, my expression flat. I gave him two options. 02 “Ava! I’m warning you…” He was losing face, and he was livid. He looked at me like he could wring my neck. The second my thumb hovered over the ‘9’ on my keypad again, he cursed, turned on his heel, and slammed the door behind him. Ten minutes later, Liam returned, stone-faced, holding the bag of crawfish. I was already at the table, slurping a cup of instant ramen. I didn’t even look up. I just took the bag from his hand and dropped it directly into the kitchen trash can. Liam stood there, arms crossed, simmering with residual anger. He was doing that thing he always does—waiting for me to back down, to be the one to apologize. When I didn’t, he finally broke the silence. “You’re unbelievable. You force me to go get it, and now you throw it in the trash. What do you actually want, Ava?” I ignored him. I finished the last of the noodles, then slowly stood up. Liam and I grew up together. We were inseparable. To everyone else, we were the perfect couple. The same social circle, the good families, the childhood sweethearts. All those labels were plastered onto us before we even knew what they meant. We made it official in college, and our families exchanged heirlooms as a promise of engagement. Barring a catastrophe, we were going to get married. Our relationship was so stable, so certain, that I never imagined anything could actually break it. Chloe’s arrival made me realize, with painful clarity, that this was the end of the line. Since she’d moved in, her “emergencies” had become constant. One day, it was a cockroach in her apartment, and she was “too terrified to sleep.” The next, her water heater was broken, and she was “so helpless she could just cry.” Then, it was raining too hard for her to get a cab home—the list was endless. And Liam, without complaint, was there. Every. Single. Time. Sometimes I wasn’t even sure who his girlfriend was anymore—me or her. I’ve been buried in a major project, too busy to deal with this mess. But tonight, the crawfish was the last straw. “Liam, we’re breaking up,” I said. I looked him straight in the eye, my voice perfectly steady. 03 Liam blinked, stunned. He genuinely thought he’d misheard me. “Ava, what did you just say?” “I said, we’re done.” “You’re insane! You’re breaking up with me over crawfish?” “Yes.” “You’re angry right now. I’m not going to hold you to this. Calm down. I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” That was the end of the conversation. He went straight into his study and didn’t come out for the rest of the night. The next morning when I got up, Liam was already eating. He was acting like nothing had happened. He’d even made breakfast. There was warm milk, toast, and two perfectly fried, sunny-side-up eggs on a plate. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice soft as he pulled me into a chair. “I wasn’t thinking last night. I shouldn’t have given Chloe your food without asking.” “I’ll buy you a whole new order tonight. Don’t be mad anymore, okay? I promise it won’t happen again.” He fundamentally did not get it. He thought I was throwing a tantrum over a missed meal. What I hated was the total lack of boundaries. What I hated was him repeatedly disrespecting me. I didn’t answer him, but I sat down. The milk was warm, the toast was crispy. I wasn’t going to punish my own stomach. Seeing me eat, Liam visibly relaxed. “Ava,” he said, his tone casual, “starting tomorrow, when you make breakfast, can you just make an extra portion? I’ll take it to Chloe when I pick her up.” “The hospital cafeteria food is the same old stuff. She’s a little picky and can’t get used to it. I’ll send you her menu requests later.” He said it so easily, as if it wasn’t the most absurd thing in the world. 04 I almost laughed. He wasn’t just “repaying a favor”—he was trying to outsource it to me. My appetite vanished. “What am I? Her mother? Her personal chef? Am I supposed to be her free nanny, too?” Liam’s brow furrowed instantly, his eyes flashing with that familiar impatience. “Why do you have to be so harsh? It’s just an extra plate of food. How much more work is that for you? She’s a young woman, she was sheltered her whole life…” I dropped my fork and pushed my chair back. “Liam, get this through your head: we are broken up. If you want to get up early and cook for your precious protégé, that is your business.” My words lit his fuse again. He cut me off. “Are you still on this? I apologized! I made you breakfast! You just can’t let it go, can you?” I glanced at the insulated lunch bag already packed and sitting on the counter. I scoffed. “You’re right. I can’t.” Made me breakfast. Right. More like I got Chloe’s leftovers. “Ava, the first time you said ‘break up,’ I thought it was just drama. But bringing it up again is pathetic. Stop with the jealous girlfriend act. It’s not a good look.” “I’m going to work. You need to stay here and reflect on your attitude.” He stood up, grabbed his keys, and stormed toward the door. He paused, walked back, and snatched the insulated bag from the counter. Everyone who knows us knows I’ve been crazy about Liam my whole life. I followed him everywhere. I chose the same college just to be near him. So, in his mind, it was impossible for me to actually leave him. He was convinced I was just being petty over a $50 crawfish order. Ten minutes later, a new notification from Chloe. “Private chauffeur and a custom breakfast. Thank you, Dr. Hayes! 🥰” It was immediately followed by a direct message to me, complete with little winking emojis. “Ava, Liam just told me that if I want anything to eat, I should just tell you! Thank you so much! For tonight, I’m thinking bouillabaisse. I heard the saffron from that little import shop downtown is the best, and you have to get the seafood fresh from the market on the south side.” 05 I suspect Liam and Chloe are both idiots. One of them can’t comprehend the words “we are broken up” and has decided I’m the new private chef for his intern. The other is shamelessly flaunting it in my face and demanding I drive 20 miles round-trip for her custom-ordered dinner. They really think I’m their goddamn servant. “How about you wait?” I typed back. “On your deathbed, I’ll bring you a whole damn buffet. I’ll even cater the funeral.” I wasn’t holding back anymore. Three months. When Chloe first arrived, Liam was on call, so I was the one who picked her up from the airport. I bustled around, found her a hotel, and arranged a nice dinner to welcome her. That night, she called Liam—who had just gotten home—and said she “felt sick.” He came home the next morning and yelled at me. “If you didn’t want to pick her up, you should have just said so! You ignored her the whole ride and then took her to eat ‘weird food.’ Really, Ava?” “She spent her first night here in the ER! How am I supposed to explain this to my mentor?” I was floored. I’d been perfectly polite. I tried to make small talk in the car; she was the one glued to her phone. I thought she was just tired. I asked her where she wanted to eat. She chose the restaurant. She ordered the food. I was furious and demanded to confront her. Liam, sensing a real fight, immediately backed down. He grabbed my hands. “I’m sorry, Ava, I’m sorry. She’s just a kid, she’s been spoiled. She doesn’t know any better. Don’t stoop to her level.” I was just… tired. He seemed to forget that I used to be my parents’ “spoiled kid,” too. I gave him the silent treatment for days. He must have felt guilty because he was on his best behavior. He apologized, bought me gifts, and swore it would never happen again. I forgave him. 06 My message must have hit its mark. Seconds later, my phone rang. It was Liam. I could hear faint sobbing in the background. “Ava, have I spoiled you too much? Is that it? You’re just cruel and toxic. And you call yourself an educated woman? That’s pathetic.” “My protégé is your protégé. I thought we were a team. Stop acting like a child! Go buy the groceries, and tonight, you will apologize to Chloe. Do it for me. Can you just do this one thing for me?” His voice softened at the end, trying to coax me. A wave of absurdity washed over me. Since Chloe arrived, Liam—normally so calm and brilliant—had lost his mind. He couldn’t see straight. No sane person would ever ask their girlfriend to cater to another woman. He wants to worship his “protégé,” fine. He wants to repay his mentor, fine. But dragging me into it, humiliating me? That’s where he crossed the line. “Liam, are you even human? You know what, don’t answer. Just go bark up a tree. At least a dog has an excuse for not understanding basic human decency.” I heard a sharp intake of breath on his end, cut short by a strangled sob from Chloe. I know how to land a punch. I hung up before he could respond and immediately started packing. I’d been staying in his apartment for the last six months because it was closer to the institute while I was on a critical project. Thirty minutes later, I was packed. My phone had blown up with texts from Liam. Just a stream of insults—calling me crass, toxic, ungrateful. But the last one caught my eye. “You think you’re still Ava Calloway, the family princess? With that attitude? Who the hell besides me would ever put up with you?” 07 He wasn’t wrong about that first part. I wasn’t that princess anymore. Three years ago, my parents’ business collapsed. Bankruptcy, liquidation. After the assets were seized to pay the debts, they moved overseas to try and rebuild. That’s when the Hayes family’s attitude… shifted. Liam became a star attending surgeon, while I stayed at the research institute, working on projects with my mentor. My income was stable, but it was nothing compared to the new standards Liam’s mother had for a daughter-in-law. She used to pull me aside, calling me her “daughter.” Now, she just made passive-aggressive comments, implying the “bankrupt daughter” was no longer good enough for her “brilliant son.” Back then, Liam didn’t disappoint me. He stood up to her. He chose me. He told me, more than once, “Ava, don’t be afraid. Don’t listen to my mother. I’ve got you. I am going to marry you.” At the time, I thought he was my rock in the storm. I couldn’t tell if I loved him or was just grateful. But looking back, our relationship was already fractured. I just refused to see it. His “loyalty” wasn’t love. It was a form of charity. I was no longer his equal. I was the “poor girl” who needed him. His “devotion” was just his superiority complex, his pity, wrapped up in a pretty bow. He’d gotten used to me being agreeable. The moment I pushed back, he couldn’t handle it. And I’d been trapped for way too long by the label of “perfect couple.”

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1 Eight days postpartum, my husband, Ethan, told me an “emergency project” had come up at work. He needed to go out of town for a few days. I was furious, but too exhausted to fight. Not long after he left, my cousin sent me an Instagram Reel. A travel blogger was on a scenic highway out west, interviewing a family on a cross-country road trip. There was Ethan, grinning into the camera. “It’s amazing out here,” he said, “This trip to the National Parks is just what I needed to relax and clear my head.” In the video, his parents and his sister, Sophie, were laughing, looking happier than I’d ever seen them. I didn’t sleep that night. By dawn, I had packed up my daughter, left our condo, and was on a flight back to my hometown. I also sold the condo. If he loved relaxing so much, I was going to make sure he had all the time in the world to do it. 2 On the drive from the airport, my cousin Maya just held my hand, terrified I was going to shatter. My mom had broken her leg a few weeks back and was recovering at home, and my dad was in D.C. on business. So, my aunt’s family was on pickup duty. My aunt chattered nervously from the front seat. “Liv, honey, just try to breathe. Look at this beautiful baby girl. She’s so perfect.” I just sat there, numb, the tears streaming silently down my face. Right on cue, Ethan texted me: ‘Hey babe, how’s my little girl? Is she behaving? Send me a video so I can see her!’ I felt nothing. It had been four days. He was finally remembering he had a daughter. I texted back: ‘Don’t call. I just fed her. She’s asleep.’ He replied instantly: ‘Great! You get some rest too! Btw, I ordered a box of diapers for her from Amazon, they should have arrived. Did you get them?’ Oh, I got them. A plain brown box with no label, but the shipping sticker showed it was from some sketchy third-party seller. And worst of all, he’d bought size NB. My daughter was twelve days old. We’d been on Size 1 for a week. Maya saw the look on my face and quickly changed the subject. “Hey, Liv! Are you craving that coconut curry place? The one we loved in high school? They moved to a new spot, it looks amazing. My treat, what do you say?” I managed a weak smile and nodded. 3 When I got home, my mom, sitting in her wheelchair, burst into tears as she took the baby. “Oh, my sweet girl. You’ve been through so much.” The postpartum nurse I’d hired was already waiting. My old bedroom had been completely redone, even the lighting was softened. My mom was firm. “Don’t you dare think about anything else. Your only job is to heal and take care of this baby.” That night, after the baby was asleep, I did it anyway. I opened Instagram. I always thought Ethan had one account. I never knew he had a “finsta,” a private one just for his “real life.” It had over 20,000 followers. He’d just posted a new video. ‘Visiting a local ranch, met this amazing hiker girl. So beautiful and really knows her stuff.’ Someone commented: ‘Prettier than your wife?’ He replied: ‘The grass is always greener, man. 😉’ Like picking at a scab, I scrolled through his entire feed. He seemed obsessed with this trip, overflowing with a thirst for adventure I’d never seen. His sister, Sophie, was even worse. There was a photo of the two of them, hands tightly clasped, sitting in camping chairs watching a sunset. If you didn’t know they were siblings, you’d assume they were a couple. A comment underneath read: ‘Dude. Sweet Home Alabama much?’ Sophie herself had replied: ‘WTF! What’s wrong with you? Is it illegal for a brother and sister to hold hands??’ I let out a bitter laugh. Thank God they had the same mother, or I’d seriously wonder. 4 The first time I met Ethan’s parents, everything seemed normal. They weren’t overly warm, but they were polite. The only weird thing was at dinner. His sister, Sophie, insisted on sitting between Ethan and me. She didn’t just sit—she squeezed her chair right up against his. “Eth, can you get me the shrimp? Ooh, and the potatoes.” Her voice was sickly sweet, making my skin crawl. When Ethan put some food on my plate, Sophie pouted. “Aw, got a girlfriend and already forgot about your little sister?” At the time, I just thought she was spoiled, but it also meant his family wasn’t toxically patriarchal, right? I mentioned it to Ethan later, and he just laughed and hugged me. “Don’t be ridiculous. Sophie’s just a kid. She has a major case of ‘brother worship.’ Just ignore her.” I’m naturally pretty trusting, so I let it go. Until our wedding rehearsal dinner. There was a tradition where the groom’s mother was supposed to give a toast and offer the new bride a sip of champagne, welcoming her to the family. The moment the liquid hit my tongue, an intense, chemical bitterness exploded in my mouth. It was awful. It was bitter cooking sherry. I fought the urge to gag and forced myself to swallow it down. Sophie, holding the tray, was beaming at me. “Welcome to the family, Liv!” With a room full of guests watching, I had no choice but to smile and finish the toast. Later, in our hotel room, I finally lost it. Ethan was completely unbothered. “Oh, come on. It’s an old tradition. ‘A bitter sip for the bride, so she can handle the hardships of marriage.’ It’s a good omen! Besides, it’s just a silly ritual. And hey, it clears out your system, it’s good for you!” Just then, Sophie knocked and came in. “Liv, I’m so, so sorry. It was all my fault… I must have grabbed the wrong bottle… If you’re mad, be mad at me. It has nothing to do with Ethan…” Before she finished, my father-in-law walked in, his face serious. “That’s enough. It was a small mistake, let’s move on. Stop crying. Liv is a reasonable person. She’s not going to hold a grudge.” That phrase, “reasonable person,” lodged all my anger right in my throat. From that day on, Sophie and I were polite on the surface, but the war was on. The sherry wasn’t a mistake. It was a warning shot from her to me, the “invader.” 5 My daughter grew stronger every day. As far as I knew, Ethan was on paternity leave plus his PTO, which totaled about 20 days. I was curious to see how long he’d drag this “work trip” out. The condo we lived in was mine, bought and paid for before I ever met him. His family had a place for us, but Sophie was living in it. Since my condo was closer to my office, Ethan just paid to have it remodeled and we moved in. To avoid any weirdness, Sophie paid Ethan $2,000 a month in “rent” for his family’s place. Now, all I felt was profound relief that our finances were mostly separate. I put my condo on the market for 30% below its value. It sold two days ago. I got the $1.5 million wire-transferred directly to my account, then immediately used it to buy gold bullion. I couldn’t wait to see Ethan’s face when he got home. I did all of this with a strange, cold calm. 6 My parents are both government employees. They were high school sweethearts. I grew up believing that marriage was a partnership, a sacred pact to face the world together. I met Ethan at a trade conference. He was the client. We dated for five years before getting married. He was the perfect, doting boyfriend. He took care of everything. He even cut my toenails for me when I was pregnant. My parents adored him. But after I gave birth, everything changed. The hormone crash was brutal, leaving me weepy and raw. My stitches from the episiotomy throbbed constantly. I thought Ethan would step up, that we’d figure out this newborn thing together. But on day three, he was already complaining. He complained about the baby’s crying waking him up. He complained that making bottles and changing diapers cut into his one hour of video game time. Once, when the baby had a blowout, he just looked at her with disgust. “God, it stinks. This is exhausting. It’s worse than work.” My mother-in-law came to “help” for a few days, which mostly consisted of her inspecting my apartment and criticizing me. “You’re holding her wrong.” “Is your milk not coming in? She seems hungry.” “We weren’t so delicate in my day.” Sophie came by once, looked me up and down, and said with a smirk, “Yikes, Liv. You better hit the gym. Your boobs are already sagging to your knees.” Every word was a tiny cut on my already frayed nerves. I finally snapped at Sophie. My mother-in-law immediately took her side, and they both left. “You young people have your own ideas,” she said. “We’re just in the way.” As for my father-in-law? He was in his own blissful retirement world of fishing, chess, and walking his dog. The mess of a newborn never crossed his radar. In those long, lonely nights, exhausted and sore, I told myself this was just the newborn phase, that this was normal. But now, watching Ethan’s Instagram videos—him laughing, trying new foods, looking so alive—all I could think was: I hope he crashes. I was furious. Like a detective, I started digging. I checked every social media account I knew he had. Facebook, Twitter, even his old gaming forums. I looked for any suspicious likes or comments. Nothing. It was all clean. Just as I was starting to doubt myself, the new owner of my condo called. “Hi, Ms. Hayes? It’s not a big deal, the condo is great. But I was doing some cleaning today, and I found a small box tucked behind the circuit breaker panel. Did you leave it?” “A box?” I had no idea what she was talking about. “It’s tiny. I can send you a picture, or just mail it to you?” “Yes, please. Thank you so much, that’s so kind.” It arrived the next day. A small, vintage-style metal box, about four inches long, with a little combination lock. I tried all of Ethan’s usual passwords. Nothing. My cousin Maya, ever impatient, went and got a toolbox. “Damn. Tucked away like that? I bet it’s something shady.” She wedged a screwdriver in and popped the lock. Inside, there were no love letters, no photos. Just one, single, black flash drive.

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My best friend of eight years, drunk off his ass, blew up my phone with five consecutive calls in the middle of the night. When I finally called back, he confessed his undying love for me through a series of blubbering sobs and asked if I wanted to be his girlfriend. I said yes. The next day, he took me out to lunch and, with a completely straight face, tried to set me up with one of his friends. “My buddy is rich, handsome, and a little socially awkward. You two would be perfect for each other.” I squeezed my chopsticks, a slow, cold smile spreading across my face. “Liam,” I said. “Are you fucking with me?” 1. The fifth time my phone vibrated across my desk, I was deep in the throes of writing my senior thesis. The name “Liam” flashed on the screen like a bad omen. I was annoyed. He had to call now? Right when I was in the zone, my fingers flying across the keyboard? I silenced the call, figuring I’d get back to him when I finished the chapter. Liam was a goofball, but he wasn’t usually this persistent. Five calls in a row meant something was probably wrong. By the time I finally finished my thought and picked up my phone, it had been half an hour. Five missed calls stared back at me. A knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach. What if something had actually happened? Alcohol poisoning? A bar fight that landed him in jail? The guy had a history. The more I thought about it, the more I panicked, and I quickly called him back. The phone rang, each ring echoing my frantic heartbeat. Just as I was about to hang up and drive to his apartment, he answered. “Hello?” His voice was a slurred, nasal mumble. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding and immediately launched into a tirade. “Liam, are you trying to give me a heart attack? What’s with all the calls? I thought you’d been kidnapped and sold for parts!” “…Chloe?” His voice was small, hesitant. “Who else would it be? Your mom?” I snapped. He giggled, a dopey, drunken sound. “I knew you’d call me back.” I could tell he was completely wasted. “Were you out with Matt and the guys again? How much did you drink? Where are you?” “I’m not anywhere… I’m just at home…” he stammered. “I just… I just missed you…” My heart did a little flip. Liam and I had been friends for eight years. We’d gone from awkward freshmen in ill-fitting school uniforms to jaded seniors, just trying to make it to graduation. We were best friends, partners in crime, a platonic dynamic so solid it was practically bulletproof. I’d helped him through breakups; he’d helped me cram for finals. I could show up at his place with no makeup and my rattiest sweatpants, and he could complain to me about which sorority had the hottest girls. Our friendship was clean. At least, that’s how he saw it. Only I knew when the lines had started to blur for me, when I started having trouble looking him in the eye, when my breath would catch in my throat if he stood too close. “…Chloe…” he mumbled again. “Why did you call me five times?” His voice was thick with emotion, like a lost kid. I was stunned. What? Who called whom five times? Was he hallucinating? Before I could correct him, he continued, his voice cracking. “Did you know I was drunk? Were you worried about me?” “Oh, Chloe, I’m so touched…” “That’s it. You definitely like me too. You should be my girlfriend.” My brain short-circuited. All I could hear was that last sentence, ringing in my ears. Was this a drunken confession? Or just another one of his stupid jokes? I clutched my phone, my fingers cold, my breathing shallow. “Chloe? Are you there?” His voice was laced with a new vulnerability. “You don’t want to, do you? I knew it…” “I do.” The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them. My face flushed. I knew he was drunk. I knew he probably wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning. I knew this was probably just wishful thinking on my part. But I couldn’t help it. Eight years of a secret, one-sided crush, suddenly watered by his drunken confession, had burst through the surface. I took the gamble. I bet that this wasn’t just the alcohol talking, that somewhere deep down, he felt the same way I did. The line went silent. So silent I thought he’d passed out. My courage started to waver. I was just about to take it all back when he finally spoke. “…Really?” His voice was a whisper. “Really,” I said, my own voice trembling. “Say it again.” I took a deep breath. “Liam,” I said, each word clear and deliberate. “I want to be your girlfriend.” He giggled again, that same dopey, happy sound that made my heart feel like it was going to burst. “My girlfriend…” he murmured. “Chloe is my girlfriend…” And then he hung up. I just stood there, holding my phone. Had that really just happened? Was I officially in a relationship with my best friend of eight years? I pinched myself. Hard. It wasn’t a dream. I didn’t sleep at all that night. I listened to the five-minute call recording at least fifty times, memorizing the sound of his voice, his ridiculous accusation, his bold confession, his happy, drunken giggle. I couldn’t stop smiling. So this is what it felt like. Not one-sided, but a real, mutual thing. It was sweeter than I ever could have imagined. 2. The next morning, I woke up with massive dark circles under my eyes, but I was buzzing with energy. I looked in the mirror and saw a girl who was glowing. The first thing I did was text my new boyfriend. I spent a good ten minutes agonizing over the perfect message. “Good morning, boyfriend?” “Hey, handsome.” A simple kissy-face emoji? It was all so mortifyingly cheesy. Finally, I settled on a cool and casual, “You up?” He replied almost instantly. “Up. Head is killing me.” Followed by a skull emoji. I laughed and typed back, “Serves you right for drinking so much.” “Chloe, I’m sorry,” he texted, with a sad-puppy-dog gif. He’d always called me by my full name when he was being serious. But today, it sounded different. Sweeter. We texted back and forth, a stream of meaningless nonsense. But he never mentioned the night before. My anxiety started to creep back in. No way, I thought. He didn’t actually forget, did he? I decided to test the waters. “Do you… remember what you said to me last night?” The three dots on his end appeared, then disappeared. My heart leaped into my throat. Oh god, he forgot. I was an idiot for believing a drunk guy. I was just about to text him back, to say it was all a joke, when his message came through. “I do.” “I remember every word.” “So, to celebrate our glorious friendship leveling up, can I take you to lunch?” I felt like I was floating. “Sure,” I texted back. I jumped out of bed and ran to my closet. A date! Our first official date! What should I wear? Should I do my makeup? Perfume? He always said he liked me in dresses. I dug out a white sundress I’d bought for my birthday last year and had never worn. I did my makeup, a shimmery, peachy look I thought was irresistible. I looked in the mirror and saw a completely different girl from the usual t-shirt-and-jeans Chloe. I smiled. Liam, you’re not going to know what hit you. We met at a trendy brunch spot near campus. He was already there, looking impossibly handsome in a crisp white t-shirt and a light blue button-down. The afternoon sun streamed through the window, making him look like he was glowing. He saw me and his eyes lit up. “Chloe! Over here!” I took a deep breath and walked towards him, trying to look graceful in my heels. “Have you been waiting long?” I asked, sliding into the booth across from him. “Nope, just got here,” he said, pushing the menu towards me. “My treat.” “Oh, feeling generous?” I teased. “Of course,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s a historic day, after all.” He was looking at me with such a bright, open expression that I had to look down at the menu to hide my blush. My heart was doing backflips. He remembered. And he was happy about it. The whole meal was a blur. I kept waiting for him to say it, to make it official. But he talked about our thesis projects, about our post-graduation travel plans, about the latest campus gossip. He talked about everything except us. I was starting to get antsy. Was he just going to leave it like this? Were we in some kind of secret relationship? As we were finishing up, I decided to take matters into my own hands. “Liam.” “Hmm?” he said, currently engaged in a fierce battle with a piece of bacon. “Are we…” He suddenly looked up, as if he’d just remembered something important. “Oh, right. Chloe, I need to talk to you about something.” This is it! I thought, sitting up straighter. He’s finally going to say it. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and leaned forward, his expression serious and sincere. “I have this buddy, Nick. He’s in the computer science department.” Nick? Who the hell was Nick? “He’s a really great guy, just a little shy around girls. Top of his class, got into a great grad program already.” “…And?” I was confused. “Well, he’s seen you in the library a few times and thinks you’re really cute. He’s been wanting to meet you, but he’s too nervous to ask.” Liam grinned, a conspiratorial glint in his eyes. “He begged me to set you guys up. And I was thinking, you’re both single, your personalities would be a good match. You’re outgoing, he’s quiet. It’s perfect.” “So… what do you think? Should I give him your number?” The smile on my face froze. The sounds of the restaurant faded away. All I could see was Liam’s enthusiastic face, and all I could hear was the word “perfect” echoing in my head. Perfect? So this was his big, historic announcement? He’d dressed up and taken me to a nice lunch to set me up with his friend? What was I? What was last night? A cold dread washed over me. I gripped my fork, my knuckles white. I forced a smile that felt more like a grimace. “Liam,” I said, my voice dangerously low. “Are you fucking with me?” The smile on his face vanished. He looked at me, bewildered. “Chloe? What’s wrong?” “What’s wrong?” I laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. “You’re asking me what’s wrong?” “Are you getting some kind of sick pleasure out of messing with me?” “No, Chloe, I’m not messing with you…” He looked panicked, reaching for my hand. “I just thought Nick was a great guy, and I wanted to introduce you…” “Enough!” I stood up abruptly, knocking over my chair. The other diners stared. I didn’t care. I felt like the world’s biggest fool. Last night, I was on cloud nine. Today, I was crashing and burning. “Do you have any idea what you said to me on the phone last night?” I demanded, my voice shaking. He looked from panicked to confused to… guilty? He avoided my eyes. “I… I was pretty drunk last night,” he mumbled. “I don’t really remember.” He didn’t remember. Of course. “Fine,” I said through clenched teeth. “You’re unbelievable.” I grabbed my purse and stormed out of the restaurant. I couldn’t stand to be in the same room with him for another second. “Chloe!” he called after me, grabbing my arm. “Don’t be mad. Did I… did I say something I shouldn’t have?” I shook him off. He looked so genuinely concerned, so innocent. It was all an act. A cruel, elaborate game to make a fool out of me. My heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise. The person in front of me was a stranger. “Liam,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady. “You are the biggest asshole I have ever met.” I walked away, ignoring his calls. The tears finally came, hot and fast. I wandered the streets, my mind a chaotic mess of humiliation, anger, and a crushing sadness. My phone buzzed in my bag, Liam’s name flashing on the screen. I didn’t want to talk to him. What was there to say? I finally collapsed onto a park bench, sobbing into my hands. Why? If he didn’t like me, why would he do this? Just as I was about to turn off my phone, a text message from an unknown number came through. It was short, but it made my blood run cold. “Stay away from Liam.” “What he said to you last night wasn’t a drunken confession.” “It was a cry for help.”

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To pay for my college, my sister married a rough widower from the next town. She smiled, saying he had a trade and we’d never go hungry. But that night, I heard her crying through the wall. For three years, she hid bruises under thick makeup, telling me to just study so her misery would end. One day, seeing fresh marks on her, I reached out and suddenly heard her thoughts: 83 more days. Once Wanda gets accepted, I’ll turn on the gas and take him to hell. I froze, then forced a smile. I pulled out my top-of-the-district report card, tore it up, and said coldly, “This is useless. I’m getting a job at the factory.” 1 The sound of ripping paper was deafening in the cramped kitchen. The sheet that boasted a score in the 99th percentile, proof of my top ranking, was reduced to a confetti of failure, fluttering to the grimy floor. Kate’s hands, busy washing vegetables, went still. After a long moment, her gaze lifted from the scattered pieces of paper to my face. Her eyes, usually so full of quiet endurance, flashed from confusion to disbelief, and then to a tidal wave of fury. “Wanda!” Her voice trembled. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing? Have you lost your mind?” What’s wrong with Wanda? She always shows me her grades like they’re treasures! Does she know what I’ve given up for her? After everything, she says this to me now? I forced my chin up, affecting a smile that felt like cracking glass. “I haven’t lost my mind. I’ve just realized that school is a dead end. I’m going to work.” She lunged, grabbing my wrist. Her fingers were shaking. “This is your future! I’ve worked myself to the bone to give you this chance, not for you to throw it all away for some factory job!” “My future?” I laughed, a bitter, ugly sound. “My future is hiding in my room studying while I listen to that man beat you every day? Besides, jobs are scarce. By the time I graduate and make any real money, he might have already killed you.” “I’m done letting you plan my life,” I spat. “I’m going to make my own way.” “You—” Kate raised her hand, her palm whistling through the air toward my cheek. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the sting. But it never came. Her hand stopped, hovering in the air, trembling violently before falling, limp and defeated, to her side. She was only twenty-three, but strands of premature silver already threaded through the hair at her temples. Did I want to marry this monster? Did I want to be his punching bag? If it weren’t for her, I could have had a better life. She… Wanda, what right do you have to say these things to me? Her silent, screaming despair ripped through me, a pain so sharp it felt like my own heart was tearing apart. But I held her gaze, my careless smile plastered on my face. Her expression was a storm of emotions: pain, confusion, disappointment, and something else… resentment. As we stood locked in a tense silence, a knock echoed from the front door. “Kate, you home? Mail’s here!” 2 It was Mrs. Gable from next door. Kate hastily wiped her tears, took a deep, shuddering breath to compose herself, and went to open the door. She wasn’t in the mood for small talk, simply taking the envelope with a mumbled “thanks” before shutting the door again. Her eyes fell to the letter in her hand, and her entire body went rigid. Written on the envelope in elegant, flowing script was a single name: Kate. The return address bore the name of the sender, printed in clear, stark letters: Clara Bellweather. Kate’s fingers gently traced the name, her eyes suddenly burning with a fierce, forgotten light. I heard the envy and bitterness swirling in her thoughts. Clara… She’s probably on the biggest stage in the country by now… I should have been there with her. If I hadn’t chosen Wanda… I was six, and Kate was eleven. Our father had gambled away everything we had and vanished. Our mother, broken, had swallowed a bottle of bleach on a rainy night. Just as we were sinking into despair, Clara and her parents had arrived, Clara in a beautiful dress that seemed to glow in our dim, dusty house. While I was sleeping, they took Kate into the other room. “Come with us, Kate,” they’d said. “You and Clara grew up together. We’ve always thought of you as our own daughter.” “And you have such a gift for dance. We’ll make sure you can keep training, right alongside Clara.” Kate had hesitated for only a second. “What about my sister? What about Wanda?” “Wanda’s too young. We can’t take on another. But we can arrange for her to go to a good group home. They’ll feed her, clothe her…” From that day on, Kate never danced again. She collected cans, worked market stalls, washed dishes in greasy diners—propping up our fragile world on her slender shoulders. And Clara? She had gone on to the best performing arts school in the country. Now, on the verge of graduation, she was rumored to have already been recruited by a prestigious dance company. Kate still clutched the letter, her fingertips trembling. The envelope was thick, as if it held a photograph. I didn’t need to see it to know what it was: a picture of Clara, radiant under the lights of a grand stage. “Kate…” I began, my voice soft. She jolted back to the present, stuffing the letter into her apron pocket as if it had burned her. She turned back to the sink. “Go do your homework.” Her voice was thick with unshed tears. She kept her back to me, saying nothing more. I watched her, her silhouette so thin it looked like it could be torn apart by a stiff breeze, yet it carried the crushing weight of our entire existence. Did she resent me? I didn’t know… But every time a letter from Clara arrived, an uncontrollable flicker of anger and grief would surface in Kate’s eyes when she looked at me. She’d be cold for days. And yet, she would still wake up before dawn to make me breakfast. She would still wait up late into the night until I came home. I clenched my fists. You’re right, Kate… I thought. You shouldn’t have given up dancing for me. You shouldn’t have endured his fists for me. And you damn well shouldn’t be planning to die for me. Your life is worth a thousand times more than my future. 3 The internet cafe was a haze of stale smoke and blinking screens. I sat at a terminal in the far corner, my fingers hovering over the keyboard, motionless. “Wanda!” A familiar, sharp voice, laced with a tremor I knew all too well, cut through the din. I whipped my head around. Kate stood at the entrance, her worn-out sundress clinging to her frame. Her hair was a mess, and her forehead was slick with sweat. She stared at me, her chest heaving, her eyes a blaze of frantic anger and a flicker of something else—fear. She stormed over to my terminal and ripped the headphones from my ears. “Mr. Davison called me!” she hissed. “He said you haven’t been to class in a week! What the hell are you doing?!” I looked down, making a deliberate show of tugging at the collar of my oversized school jacket. “Nothing. Just didn’t feel like going.” My voice was flat, layered with a practiced, defiant slouch. “Didn’t feel like going?” She sounded like she’d just heard a foreign language. “You once went to school with a 102-degree fever. And now you ‘don’t feel like going’? I asked around on every block until someone told me you’ve been wasting your days in here!” “Do you have any idea how hard I’ve worked to get you this far? Who do you think you’re answering to?” Her grip was like a vice, bruising my wrist. No… this can’t be happening… I traded my entire life for Wanda’s future. How can she do this? Her thoughts were a silent, desperate scream, a wire tightening around my own heart. I hardened myself, wrenching my arm from her grasp. I stood up, looking down on her. “That’s right, I don’t want to go. What’s the point? Vince doesn’t have half your brains, but you’re still the one depending on him to survive.” The words landed like a physical blow. She staggered back, the color draining from her face. She didn’t say another word. She just grabbed me, practically dragging me out of the cafe and all the way home. The moment we pushed open the door, the stench of cheap whiskey hit us like a wall. Vince was sprawled on the sofa. He saw us and immediately started yelling. “Where the hell have you been? I’m starving! Where’s my damn dinner?!” Kate flinched. “I… I’ll make it right now.” “Make my ass!” Vince shot to his feet, grabbing an empty bottle from the coffee table and hurling it straight at her. “I’ll teach you to keep me waiting!” Without a second thought, I threw myself in front of Kate. The bottle grazed my temple and shattered against the wall behind us. Glass sprayed everywhere. “Vince,” I said, lifting my head to meet his furious, bloodshot eyes. “Calm down. I was just having a drink with Ace yesterday. He might have mentioned that little loan you took from him…” At the name “Ace,” a muscle in Vince’s jaw twitched. I pressed on, my voice deliberately casual. “Ace said not to worry about the money. Said it was on the house, on account of me. But…” I paused, my gaze flicking to my sister, who was trembling behind me. “He’s got this thing… he can’t stand guys who get rough with their women at home. Says the noise is bad for his nerves.” Vince’s expression shifted. He looked me up and down, as if seeing me for the first time. After a moment, he spat on the floor and forced a grotesque smile. “Well, damn, Wanda. Look at you, all grown up. A hell of a lot more useful than your sister! Should’ve said so earlier. We’re all family here…” Muttering under his breath, he grabbed his jacket and slammed the door behind him. The room was left in a dead, ringing silence. Slowly, Kate lifted her head. She looked at me as if I were a complete stranger. Her eyes were wide with shock, fear, and something deeper—a kind of soul-crushing despair. “How do you know someone like Ace? Wanda, tell me, what have you really been doing this past week?!” I met her gaze, my heart hammering against my ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage. “Nothing much,” I lied, forcing a smirk. “Just figured hanging with his crew is more interesting than staring at textbooks. Ace says I’m sharp. Says if I stick with him, I’ll be set for life…” “Shut up!” Kate shrieked, cutting me off. She rushed forward, her hands clamping down on my shoulders, shaking me hard. “Do you know who Ace is? Drugs, violence… he’s a monster! You’ll destroy yourself! Snap out of it!” “I am snapped out of it!” I shoved her away. “I’m wide awake! Awake enough to know that a diploma won’t save us! At least if I’m working, I can take care of myself and not end up beaten to death alongside you by that animal!” It was as if all the strength drained out of her at once. She froze, her face a mask of disbelief. Tears began to stream silently down her cheeks, but she made no sound. She just stared at me, her eyes filled with a hollow emptiness, with resentment, and with absolute despair. How did Wanda become this person? This is the sister I gave up everything for? The one I threw my life away to protect? No… she’s just confused. She’ll still take the exams. She has to. It’ll be over soon. I just have to hold on a little longer. Just a little longer. Kate, once you’re dead, it’ll all be over. It’s better for you, and better for Wanda… She turned away, shuffling silently toward the kitchen. Listening to her thoughts, I felt an invisible, icy wall rise between us. 4 For the next month, Kate seemed to be waging a war within herself. She remained cold and distant, but there were no more explosive confrontations. I could see the effort it took her to contain her pain and her bitterness. After all, if it wasn’t for me, she would be living a completely different life… And every day, I heard her heart’s silent weeping. Maybe it would have been better if I’d died with Mom that night… I’m so tired… Your life is over, Kate. Stop dreaming. It’s all your fault for being weak, for raising that little parasite. No… don’t say that about Wanda. She’s just lost. She’ll come around… On the day of the final practice exam, I sat with a blank test paper in front of me for two hours. When the bell rang, I was the first one to walk out. The result was predictable. A perfect zero across the board. My homeroom teacher called Kate in. In the cramped office, the teacher’s voice was heavy with disappointment. Kate stood beside me, head bowed, her hands twisting the hem of her worn-out dress. “Mrs. Miller,” he said, his tone strained, “this was the last exam before the finals! She handed in a blank paper! Does she even want to go to college anymore?” “It’s not that she can’t do the work! Her previous scores put her at the top of the district. She could get into any Ivy League school she wanted!” All eyes were on me. I looked at my sister’s hunched, humiliated posture, took a deep breath, and spoke, my voice sharp and cold. “What’s the point of a degree? You get it, you come out, and you still can’t protect yourself. You just learn to take a beating and then put on a smile, just like her. A future like that? You can have it. I don’t want it.” The air in the room froze. Kate’s head snapped up. The color drained from her face, leaving it a ghostly white. She stared at me, and I watched the last glimmer of light in her eyes shatter, leaving behind nothing but dead, grey ash. She didn’t cry. She didn’t scream. She just looked at me as if I were some grotesque, alien creature she’d never seen before. My heart gave a painful lurch. Does she hate me? Does she truly hate me now? I hate you… Wanda, you’ve ruined my life, and now you’re going to ruin my dignity in front of everyone? No… what dignity do I have left? Am I even a person anymore? Her thoughts were fragmented, broken. She said nothing. She simply turned and stumbled out of the office, her back so slumped it looked as if her very soul had been ripped out. It was dark when I got home. Kate was sitting in the living room, shrouded in shadows. She hadn’t turned on the lights. “Kate…” I started, my voice hoarse. “Do whatever you want,” she cut me off. Her voice was laced with an undeniable disgust and frustration. “From now on, just do whatever the hell you want. As far as I’m concerned, I don’t have a sister anymore.” She got up, went into her room, and shut the door. I’m just her sister. I’ve done enough. I took pity on her, but who’s going to take pity on me? I fought back the urge to run to her, to hold her, to apologize for everything. I wiped away the tears I hadn’t realized were falling and went to my own room in silence. The silence held until the next afternoon. Vince came home, cursing and fuming. He’d clearly gambled away all his money again. His eyes, red and wild, scanned the room, finally landing on Kate. His fists clenched. “Damn it all! Useless! Where’s the money? Get me some goddamn money! What happened to my paycheck this month? Didn’t I give it all to you?” Kate stood there, numb, unresponsive. It was a lie. He’d given her a pitiful amount for groceries, keeping the rest for himself. “You useless bitch, feeding two deadbeats like you… I should just kill you and be done with it!” Vince’s face was purple with rage. He snatched his leather belt off a chair and brought it down hard across Kate’s back. He was a mountain of a man, over two hundred pounds, crushing my sister’s small frame beneath him. Fists and slaps rained down on her. Her screams echoed through the small house. My heart hammered against my ribs. I walked over, pulled the envelope with the tuition money from my backpack, and held it out to him. “Vince. I have some.” He froze, his arm mid-swing. He snatched the envelope, licked his thumb, and counted the bills. His scowl melted into a grin. “See? Wanda’s the smart one!” he crowed, peeling off a small stack and shoving it back into my hand. “Here, this is from your big brother. You stick with me, kid, I’ll take care of you!” He pocketed the rest of the cash and swaggered out the door. Kate’s face was swollen, blood trickling from her nose and mouth. But she acted as if nothing had happened. She quietly got to her feet and, without a single word or glance in my direction, went back to her room. It was as if she was no longer a part of this world. Had she given up on me completely? Late that night, I tossed and turned, sleep eluding me. Suddenly, a faint noise came from the next room. I held my breath, straining to listen, focusing my mind. …Tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow. While she’s gone… it’ll all be over. …The gas valve… just have to turn it… It’ll be quick… no more pain… The thought, so clear and calm, was a bullet straight through my heart. My mind went blank. The blood in my veins turned to ice. No… It can’t be happening… not like this.

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My father’s mistress stormed our home, planting herself on our sofa and smugly demanding my mother step aside. Furious, my mother immediately demanded a divorce. My father agreed in a heartbeat, wrapping his arm around the other woman and ordering my mother to get out. As my mom grabbed my hand to leave, I pulled away and linked my arm through my father’s. “I’m not leaving,” I said. “I’m staying with Dad.” My mother’s family called me an ungrateful viper. I treated the mistress with the utmost respect, and when she became pregnant, I doted on her tirelessly. She loved to tell people she’d gained a devoted daughter for free, that she’d never have to worry about being cared for in her old age. But she had no idea that there’s a certain kind of manipulation, a special kind of trap, known as praise-killing. 1. I was walking home from school, and before I even reached the front door, I could hear shouting. My parents’ voices were sharp and angry, but they were tangled with the voice of a woman I didn’t recognize. The moment I stepped inside, my mother’s voice, stretched to its breaking point, cut through the air. “Since you’ve brought your mistress here to stage a coup, let’s just get a divorce!” My father’s eyes flickered toward me. Seeing me just quietly setting down my schoolbag, showing no reaction, he boomed, “Fine by me! I’ve been putting up with you for years, always nagging, always controlling! Not an ounce of softness in you! And after all this time, you couldn’t even give me a son. Who’s supposed to inherit the family business?” My mother let out a bitter, humorless laugh. She grabbed my arm. “So it’s just me and our daughter who are in your way? Fine! We’ll leave. You can shack up with your little homewrecker and have your precious son!” A flicker of panic crossed my father’s face. “Lara is my daughter! You can’t take her!” Though he’d always wanted a son, I had to admit, my father had always doted on me. If I wanted something, he almost always gave it to me. My mother’s grip tightened. “We’ll see if Lara even wants to go with you. Lara, let’s go!” She pulled at my arm, but I stood my ground, unmoving. That’s when the other woman saw her opening. Her voice was syrupy sweet. “Now, now, you can’t force her. It doesn’t look like Lara wants to leave with you.” Her voice was gentle, her face a mask of innocence. No wonder my father fell for her. My mother shot her a venomous look, her voice rising. “Lara, you tell us. Who are you going with?” I gently pulled my hand from my mother’s grasp, turned, and linked my arm through my father’s. “Mom, I’m not leaving,” I said softly. “I’m staying with Dad.” 2. My father roared with laughter, one arm slung around his mistress, the other pulling me close. “That’s my girl!” My mother’s hand trembled as she pointed at me, speechless. Finally, the words tore from her throat. “Fine. Just fine. Like father, like daughter. Two heartless snakes in the same pit!” She spun around and slammed the door, the sound echoing through the house. I watched her leave, my face a blank mask, my nails digging so deep into my palms that they drew blood. “Dad,” I said quietly, “I’m going to pack a few things for Mom to take with her.” As I was folding my mother’s clothes, my father came into the room with the other woman. He put a hand on my shoulder. “Lara, don’t blame me. You’re too young to understand adult relationships. Eva and I… this is true love. Since you chose to stay, I hope you can accept her. A happy home makes for a happy life, right? I can’t focus on my business if you two aren’t getting along.” Eva stepped forward and took my hand, her touch warm and cloying. “Lara, if you’re not comfortable, you can keep calling me Aunt Eva after your father and I are married. I don’t mind at all.” I smiled inwardly at her magnanimous act. Trying to look like the bigger person so Dad will admire you? I won’t let you have that satisfaction. If this was a game of shamelessness, I could play it better than she ever could. I summoned a brighter, more enthusiastic smile and placed her hand back in my father’s. “Don’t be silly! If you’re marrying my father, you’ll be my mother. Mom,” I said, looking her straight in the eye, “congratulations on your wedding. I wish you and Dad all the happiness in the world.” A cheater and a homewrecker. Better to keep them chained together where they couldn’t ruin anyone else’s lives. Eva was stunned, clearly not expecting this reaction. My father, however, was beaming. He ruffled my hair. “Lara, you’re so grown up. So understanding. I knew I wasn’t wrong to spoil you all these years.” Seeing him in such a good mood, I seized the opportunity. “Dad, I’m starting my junior year soon. You know how tough it gets. I was thinking of taking an advanced prep course over the summer to make sure I can get into a top university.” 3. “Of course! My daughter is so ambitious, I’ll give you whatever you need!” He didn’t hesitate. He pulled out his phone and, with a grand flourish, transferred ten thousand dollars into my account. “This is a start. If you need more, just ask!” I gave him my sweetest smile. “You’re the best, Dad!” I picked up the suitcase I’d packed. “I’ll just drop this off for Mom. Bye, Dad. Bye, Mom.” As I walked away, I saw their reflection in the glass of the front door. He was holding Eva, kissing her passionately. I caught my own reflection in the car’s rearview mirror and allowed myself a cold, hard smile. This was just the beginning. First things first, I needed to win back my real mother and make sure she was on my side. I drove to my grandmother’s house and rang the bell. My uncle answered, his face a thundercloud. “What is that little traitor doing here? Go on, go back to your father and live the high life!” I held up the suitcase. “I’m just dropping off some of Mom’s things.” He reached for it, but an older, wrinkled hand shot out and stopped him. “We don’t want her charity. As if we can’t afford to buy a few new clothes.” It was my grandmother. She shoved me back, her breath coming in angry gasps. “Get out! You’re not welcome here! As of today, I don’t have a granddaughter!” The door started to swing shut. I dropped the suitcase, wedging my body in the opening. “Mom!” I yelled into the house. “You left! If I leave too, are you just going to hand everything over to them on a silver platter?” My grandmother and uncle froze. In that brief moment of hesitation, I pushed past them and into the house. My mother was sitting on the living room sofa, silently wiping away tears. When she saw me, her eyes turned red all over again. My heart ached. I rushed to her and wrapped her in a hug. “Mom, don’t cry. The only way we can get what we deserve is if I stay with him. You were with him for years, from when he had nothing until his business was a success. You can’t let that woman waltz in and steal it all!” 4. I showed her the banking notification on my phone. “Look, Dad just gave me ten thousand dollars. I’ll transfer it to you. To keep me and that woman on good terms, he’s going to keep giving me money and gifts. I’ll save everything for you. Once I graduate from college, I’ll cut them off and we can start a new life together, just the two of us!” She hugged me tightly, her voice thick with emotion. “But you’ll be miserable, having to see their faces every day!” I smiled. “It’s not a sacrifice. It’s an investment in our future. It’s worth it.” Miserable? Far from it. Leading them step by step into the trap I’d designed, watching them stumble around, blind and self-satisfied… it was going to be incredibly entertaining. All my life, people had been fooled by my sweet, innocent exterior, calling me a good, obedient child. Not even my own mother knew the truth: I have a dark streak. I enjoy the game, the intricate dance of manipulation. And now, a brand-new toy had been delivered right to my doorstep. It would be rude not to play. When I returned home, I made sure my eyes were red and puffy. As I expected, my father saw my tear-streaked face and immediately assumed I’d been given a hard time. He pulled me into a protective hug. “Don’t you ever go back to that witch’s house again. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” I dabbed at my eyes with a tissue. “But she’s my mother,” I sobbed. “It hurts that she’d treat me like that.” He immediately went to his safe and pulled out a thick gold chain. Eva’s eyes widened, but she didn’t dare say a word. He fastened it around my neck. “Your birthday is in a few days. Think of this as an early present. We’ll have a huge party for you.” A few days later, he did just that, throwing me a lavish birthday party and handing me a thick envelope of cash. I made sure to pose for photos with him and Eva, my arms linked through theirs. He was ecstatic, bragging to everyone about his perfect life: a beautiful wife and a devoted daughter. 5. The following months were a blur of studying for my final exams. I told my dad I needed to live in the dorms to focus. Thrilled by my diligence—and no doubt happy to have me out of the house so he and Eva could have their privacy—he readily agreed, setting up a generous monthly allowance for me. After covering my expenses, I transferred every remaining dollar to my mother. The semester flew by. When I came home for winter break, I found my father and Eva had prepared a feast to welcome me. “What a wonderful day! Lara’s home from school, and I have some great news to announce!” My father was grinning from ear to ear. I glanced at Eva’s gently rounded belly and the triumphant smirk on her face. I smiled brightly. “Am I going to be a big sister?” Eva nestled against my father’s side, feigning shyness as she nodded. “Congratulations, Mom and Dad!” I raised my glass to toast them. My father clapped me on the shoulder, his face glowing with satisfaction. “I couldn’t be happier. A smart, loving daughter, and a pregnant wife. What more could a man ask for? If it’s a boy, my life will be truly complete.” Eva rested a hand on her stomach, her chin held high. “Everyone says I’m carrying low. It’s definitely a boy. Don’t you worry, David. The Clark family business will have its heir.” They were so lost in their happy fantasy, they didn’t notice the flicker of ice in my eyes. Talking about a son inheriting everything, right in front of me, as if I didn’t even exist. Fine. If that’s how you want it, then I won’t hold back. But whether that son of yours will ever be born… that remains to be seen. 6. As Eva started to get up to get rice from the kitchen, I gently pushed her back down and took her bowl. “Mom, let me. You’re pregnant now, you should rest.” She watched, a smug smile playing on her lips, as I respectfully placed the steaming bowl of rice in front of her. “You’re such a good girl, Lara.” My father nodded in approval. As I served her food, I said, “It’s perfect timing, with my winter break. I can take care of Mom at home. You can focus on your business trips, Dad. I’ve got everything handled here.” Eva hesitated, her hand instinctively going to her belly. She gave me a wary look, as if trying to figure out my angle. But my expression was one of pure sincerity, impossible to fault. Hearing my father sing my praises, she had no choice but to force a smile and agree. The next day, I was up at dawn. I made breakfast and then slipped out of the house. Eva didn’t wake up until noon. She came downstairs to an empty house and frowned. When I returned, she was sitting on the sofa, looking thoroughly annoyed. She shot me a sideways glance. “Some caregiver you are. First day of break and you disappear. I was starving.” I put on a hurt expression and pointed to the dining table. “Mom, I made you breakfast before I left. You were still sleeping, so I went out to buy a few things…” My father walked in behind me and glared at Eva. “You’re getting spoiled. Lara is a high school student, and she got up at the crack of dawn to make you breakfast. Then she dragged me out to buy you new slippers because she was worried yours weren’t comfortable enough. And you, not a word of thanks, just complaints. She’s my daughter, not your servant.” 7. Eva’s eyes welled up with tears. “I’m carrying your son, a Clark heir, and you talk to me like that!” I saw my father was about to retort. I hid my smile and stepped in to play peacemaker. “Dad, please don’t. Mom is pregnant, her emotions are all over the place. We have to be more understanding. Besides, I did promise to take care of her. It’s natural for her to be a little anxious when she wakes up and I’m not here.” My father muttered under his breath, “Your own mother was never this dramatic when she was pregnant with you…” I scoffed internally. So now you remember how good she was? Pathetic. I pulled a new pair of slippers from my shopping bag and knelt at Eva’s feet. “Mom, these have extra-soft soles. They’ll be really comfortable. Your feet will probably start to swell soon, so I got them a size bigger.” Her expression softened as she watched me put the slippers on her feet. I helped her to the table with a cheerful smile, showing no sign of resentment. Then I went to the balcony to bring in the laundry. My father followed me, pressing a wad of cash into my hand. “I’m sorry you have to deal with this, Lara,” he whispered. I just smiled and gently pushed him toward the door. “It’s okay. Mom is carrying the future of our family. A little hardship is nothing. You should get to the office, Dad. You have a lot to deal with.” He left, beaming with pride. I turned back to look at Eva, sitting at the table like a queen waiting to be served, and my own smile widened. Just you wait. I’ll put you on a pedestal so high, the fall will be spectacular. And it will hurt so much more. Losing everything is far more painful than never having had it at all. 8. In the days that followed, my care for Eva was nothing short of meticulous. I supported her when she walked. I prepared whatever food she craved. I brought her a blanket when she was cold and a basin of warm water to soak her feet before bed. I was like a handmaiden from an ancient imperial court. Under my constant pampering, Eva’s weight ballooned. In less than a month, she gained thirty pounds. Her doctor issued a stern warning about her diet. But I had already stretched her appetite beyond her control. I served her six meals a day. In between the main courses, there was a never-ending parade of fresh fruit, milk, and expensive supplements like bird’s nest soup and sea cucumber stew—all, I claimed, to nourish her baby brother. Faced with such delicacies, her doctor’s orders were quickly forgotten. With my constant attention, it wasn’t just her body that expanded; her temper did too. I flattered her relentlessly, praising the baby in her womb as if it were a divine gift. She began to believe it, carrying herself with an air of immense self-importance, as if she were performing some heroic feat. She stopped being sweet and affectionate with my father. When he came home late from work, she would accuse him of cheating, her voice dripping with suspicion. Their arguments became more frequent. Each time, I would step in to calm my father down. Seeing Eva’s behavior, he became convinced that I was suffering under her tyranny at home. I would force a brave smile and tell him it was fine. Overcome with guilt and admiration, he would transfer thousands more dollars to my account as “compensation.” This cycle repeated itself several times a week. As their fights grew more bitter, my phone would chime with one deposit notification after another, not to mention the constant stream of small gifts my father brought home for me. I would sit in my room, watching the balance in my bank account grow, and laugh. Then I’d transfer every cent to my mother. 9. After weeks of being worshipped like a goddess, Eva finally let her guard down around me. She even started taking me with her when she met her friends for lunch. They were stunned to see me waiting on her hand and foot. Eva would preen under their attention. “This is my stepdaughter,” she’d announce proudly. “She’s just wonderful to me. See? I got a free daughter to take care of me. That ex-wife of David’s is such a loser. She lost her husband, and even her own daughter wouldn’t go with her!” I stood by silently, a placid smile on my face, as she bad-mouthed my mother. One of her friends shot me a nervous glance. “Eva, the kid’s right here. Lower your voice.” Eva waved a dismissive hand, not even looking at me. “What’s there to be afraid of? She’s a pushover. She chose her father, so she wouldn’t dare defend her mother. She knows who pays the bills.” I acted as if I hadn’t heard a thing, calmly refilling her teacup. “You must be thirsty from all that talking, Mom. Have some tea.” Her friends left that day marveling at what a well-behaved and devoted stepdaughter she had. Soon, everyone in her circle knew it. The winter break flew by. I looked at Eva’s swollen, ungainly form as she struggled to walk and smiled with satisfaction. It was time for the next phase of the plan. She was resting comfortably in bed. I placed a fresh set of clothes for her in the bathroom. “Mom, I have to go back to school soon, and I still have some homework to finish. I’m going to go upstairs and work on it. Your clothes are all ready for you when you want to take a shower.” She waved me away without a second thought and rolled over to sleep. I walked calmly to my room and closed the door. My hands were trembling with excitement. I put on my headphones, and the mechanical voice of an English language recording filled my ears, slowly calming my racing heart. The moment was almost here. I just wondered if she would be able to handle it.

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The real estate agent was showing me the house when a line of text suddenly floated before my eyes: [The male lead will eventually buy this house back for ten times the price. I wonder which lucky girl is going to get rich off this place.] I stared blankly for three seconds, then decisively signed the contract. That night, calculating the mortgage payments, I fell into a pit of despair. I started to suspect I’d gotten food poisoning from some cheap takeout to be hallucinating a live comment feed in my reality. But then, the comments exploded again: [Did the female lead just throw out all the luxury gifts the male lead gave her?] [OMG, can someone transport me there?! I want to go pick them up!] I shot out of bed, hopped on my little food trike, and sped toward the main couple’s address. Whether it was real or not, my time for a windfall had finally come! 1 “Miss Vance, you’ve looked at this place five times already. It’s an older house, but for the price, it’s a steal. You really shouldn’t hesitate.” I clutched the crumpled flyer in my hand, trailing behind the real estate agent as I surveyed the house for the fifth time. I knew it was a good deal, but the down payment would drain my entire life savings and bury me in debt. I was just about to give up when words materialized in the air in front of me. [I can’t believe she’s actually selling this house. This was the love nest she shared with the male lead back when they were poor!] [Well, Landon was a total jerk. I don’t blame Claire for giving up on him.] I rubbed my eyes. It wasn’t a hallucination. Just then, another comment drifted by: [I wonder who the lucky buyer will be. Landon is going to buy this back for ten times the price later on.] Ten times the price? I’d be rich! Barely containing my excitement, I casually asked the agent, “So, uh, what’s the owner’s name again?” He waved a dismissive hand. “Claire Sterling. Her boyfriend is loaded, not in our league at all. That’s probably why the house is priced so cheap.” Oh my god. It all matched the comments. The agent was getting impatient. “Miss Vance, maybe I should show you some more affordable options.” “No!” I grabbed his arm. “I’ll take it.” 2 The deal was done in a flash. We finished the paperwork by noon, and I moved in that afternoon. Thanks to the comments, I figured it out: I was living inside a “make him grovel” romance novel. The main couple was currently on the rocks, and by buying their house, I was basically profiting from their relationship drama. That night, lying in my new bed, I stared at my zeroed-out bank account and felt like I was in a dream. Thinking back on the floating text… had I eaten too much cheap takeout and started seeing things? Who in their right mind sees a live comment feed in real life? The thought made me sit bolt upright. I had poured my entire savings of ten thousand dollars into this house and was now saddled with a massive mortgage. What if there was no “male lead” coming to the rescue? On my meager income from selling crepes from a cart, how many lifetimes would it take to pay this off? I smacked my forehead in frustration. A white glow flickered in my vision again. For a second, I thought I’d hit myself so hard I was seeing stars, but a closer look revealed more comments. [Claire is really furious this time. She’s throwing out everything Landon ever gave her.] [And today is their fifth anniversary! Landon actually spent the night at the other woman’s place!] [Landon is the worst. And I actually thought he wasn’t all bad deep down.] Amidst the chorus of outrage directed at the male lead, one comment caught my eye. [Don’t throw them away, honey! Sell them! You could get so much money for all that!] Throwing things away? That could be sold for cash? Was this really happening? I scrambled out of bed and dialed the agent’s number, my voice trembling with excitement. “Hey, so the previous owner left some things behind. Could you give me her current address? I want to return them to her.” The agent was clearly half-asleep. “It’s the middle of the night. For this? Her boyfriend is the CEO of the King Corporation. They live in the most exclusive condo complex in the city. You think she cares about a few forgotten items? She told me specifically she didn’t want anything left behind. Just toss whatever you find.” He didn’t give me the address. I was sweating with anxiety. Opportunity waits for no one! If I was late, someone else might scoop up all the good stuff. Just before he hung up, I blurted out, “It’s their sentimental keepsakes!” “Huh? What keepsakes?” “You know, from Mr. King! I saw their names engraved on something. What if this causes a huge misunderstanding between them? You have to give me the address!” The agent was silent for a long moment, then his voice turned grim. “Then I especially can’t tell you. You think I have a death wish, giving out Landon King’s home address?” He hung up. I threw my phone onto the bed in frustration. The live feed was still giving a play-by-play of the drama at Claire’s. [Holy crap, she’s throwing away a Patek Philippe? Is she insane?] [OMG, can someone transport me there?! I want to go pick it up!] I paced around in a panic, and then it hit me. The agent had told me the address. I threw on a jacket and hopped onto my trusty crepe trike. Half an hour later, I pulled up to the most luxurious residential complex in the city: The Grandview Estates. The complex was huge, but at two in the morning, someone repeatedly hauling boxes to the curb was as obvious as a lighthouse in a storm. Claire Sterling, carrying a heavy-looking cardboard box, walked to the dumpster and dumped its contents without a second glance. Sweet mother of fortune! The moment she went back inside, I pedaled over to the dumpster, pulled out a large burlap sack, and started stuffing it with treasures. One eye on the goods, the other on the villa’s front door. A few minutes later, Claire emerged with another big box. I quickly hid. As soon as she was gone, I rushed back and continued my haul. Just as my sack was about to burst, she came out with a third box. I tried to drag my full sack away to hide again, but it was incredibly heavy. She was almost at the door. In a panic, I gave it one last desperate tug. Riiiiip— The bottom of the sack tore open, spilling its contents all over the pavement. I froze. My eyes met Claire’s from across the driveway. The comment feed went wild. [HOLY SHIT SOMEONE IS ACTUALLY PICKING IT UP!!] [This is literally like winning the lottery!] [Isn’t that the girl who bought the house today? She’s struck gold twice in one day. How can one person be this lucky?!] [Honey, get your stuff back! It’s not too late! Take it back and sell it yourself!] 3 Before I could even think, I’d thrown myself over the pile of luxury goods like a mother hen protecting her chicks. I’d pedaled all the way here in the dead of night for this. If she took it all back, my efforts would be for nothing. But… I felt a pang of guilt. Claire’s eyes were red and swollen, and her slender frame looked impossibly fragile in the cold wind. The box in her hands was filled with expensive things, but the contrast between their value and her heartbreak was palpable. [Honey, you need money to have the freedom to leave that bastard!] [Love is gone, but you can’t let the money be gone too!] Looking at the comments, then back at Claire, my heart softened. As much as it pained me, I slowly straightened up, forcing the words out through a tight throat. “Um, if you want it…” “I would have just given it to you if I’d known you were here.” Claire managed a strained smile and placed the box gently at my feet. “If you like it, just take it all.” Her gaze fell on my torn sack. After a moment, she said, “Wait here a second.” She turned and jogged back into the house, returning a moment later with three large, plaid-patterned tote bags. I marveled. Rich people used these kinds of bags too. But a comment quickly corrected my ignorance. [Those are the limited edition Louis Vuitton woven totes!] LV? Limited edition? “Your sack is broken. Use these.” Claire knelt and started helping me pack the scattered luxury goods into the LV totes. Oh, my god. Was this the legendary kindness of a female lead? I stared at her for a long moment, then finally managed to ask, “This stuff… it could sell for a lot of money. Are you sure you’re just giving it to me?” She paused, then spoke after a long silence, her voice thick with emotion. “I never needed that much money anyway.” She even helped me load the three overflowing LV totes onto my crepe trike, seeing I couldn’t manage it alone. She was an angel. I could cry. “You know how to make crepes?” she asked, looking at my setup. I carefully arranged the three massive totes in the back of my trike, then puffed out my chest with pride. “You bet! All the neighbors say my crepes are the best. Business is great!” Claire reached out and touched my little trike, a hint of envy in her eyes. “It must be nice, being able to support yourself.” Her words sent the comment feed into another frenzy. [My baby is too delicate to be selling crepes out in the elements.] [Are you serious? Selling crepes is a thousand times better than being miserable with Landon!] [It’s the middle of the night and now I’m craving a crepe. drooling.jpg] It was almost three in the morning. I wondered if Claire was hungry. After a fight like that with Landon, she probably hadn’t eaten dinner. I expertly fired up my stove and pulled out my tools. “Miss Sterling, you’ve been so kind to me. As a humble crepe vendor, I have nothing to offer in return but this ‘fully loaded’ supreme crepe!” I may have only been twenty, but I already had a decade of crepe-making experience. I wasn’t bragging, but no one who’d eaten my crepes had ever had a bad word to say. Claire initially tried to refuse, but the aroma of food in the dead of night was too tempting. She fell silent, her eyes fixed on my griddle. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a comment mention that Landon couldn’t see Claire on the security cameras, couldn’t reach her by phone, and was now on his way back. With a final flick of my wrist, I folded a crepe bigger than my head and placed the deluxe masterpiece in Claire’s hands. “Here you go! It was nice meeting you. Thank you for the gifts! I will be grateful for the rest of my life!” Before Claire could respond, I was already pedaling away like a madwoman. If Landon saw me, not only would I lose all my treasures, but I’d probably face some kind of retaliation. The thought made me pedal so fast I felt like I was about to break the sound barrier. 4 It took a monumental effort, but I finally got everything home. I didn’t even stop to catch my breath before I started using my phone’s image search to identify each item. Hermès, Chanel, Patek Philippe, Bvlgari… With every price I looked up, I had to press a hand to my chest, afraid I might pass out from sheer excitement. The very next day, I picked out one of the less expensive-looking bags and took it to a luxury consignment shop. When twenty thousand dollars landed in my bank account, the reality of it all finally hit me. Good heavens. Me, Lucy Vance, had finally made it! The old saying was true: you don’t get rich without a little luck. And my lucky break had finally arrived. I used some of the money to buy a decent outfit and a pair of shoes. Back home, I followed a fashion blogger’s tutorial, styling myself with some of the items from the totes. The comments had said Landon would be coming to buy the house back soon, so I had to sell everything quickly. But first, I needed to look the part of a wealthy person. Otherwise, I might get arrested just for walking into a high-end store. I looked in the mirror and nodded with satisfaction. Not bad. Clothes really do make the woman. I looked quite convincing. But something still felt off. I studied my reflection for a long time before I realized what it was: my hair and my hands. The clothes were expensive, and I could use foundation to touch up my face, but my hands and hair were dead giveaways. I’d been working outside since I was ten, and my hands were rough and chapped, not like those of a young woman. When I was shopping for the clothes earlier, I hadn’t even dared to touch the silk items, afraid I’d snag the fabric and have to pay for it. For years, I’d scrimped and saved to buy a proper burial plot for my grandpa. After I finally managed that, I started saving for a house. I always bought the cheapest food. As a result, my hair was dull and brittle from a lack of nutrition, like a bundle of dead straw. I ruffled my hair in frustration. I never thought I’d be stressing about how to look rich. A moment later, an idea struck me. I rushed out and bought a pair of nice gloves and a wig. Looking in the mirror this time… perfect! I blew myself a kiss. Absolutely gorgeous. The next day, I hauled a massive load of luxury goods to the consignment shop. I held my chin high, trying to channel the energy of a proud swan, refusing to let my confidence waver. I was genuinely terrified the police would be called on me. Luckily, my acting skills were decent. The shop staff not only didn’t suspect a thing, but they were incredibly enthusiastic, telling me to come back anytime. A week later, I had sold everything. That included the clothes, shoes, gloves, and wig I’d bought to play the part of a rich woman. They were completely impractical and had a terrible cost-performance ratio. They were not worthy of being my possessions. Lying on my bed again, I checked my bank balance. The feeling was completely different from the first time. Back then, I wanted to die. This time, I was scared to death. Twenty million dollars!! And according to the comments, that was just a fraction of the gifts Landon had given her. The world of the rich was truly unimaginable. Being suddenly wealthy was an incredible feeling. For the first few days, I would wake up in the middle of the night, laughing in my sleep. The moment my eyes opened, I’d order the most expensive takeout and pair it with the fanciest cheese-foam tea from the cheapest boba place in town. Life was looking up.

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