Category: English

I was just making polite small talk with my neighbor. “Your grandson is so cute,” I said. “I wish I had one just like him.” I went home for the summer, and my parents presented me with a baby brother. “It was *your wish* that made him happen,” they said. “You have to be responsible for him.” They completely checked out. My brother’s entire life became my problem. From his homework to his job, from his first car to his first house. Eventually, when I couldn’t afford to buy him a house, my brother murdered me. I opened my eyes and I was back on that day, admiring the neighbor’s kid. “Wow, he’s so cute,” I began. “I wish I had…” My parents’ eyes lit up, a predatory glint in them. I paused. “…a mansion!” I finished. “And a yacht!” “And a scholarship to study abroad!” “And ten billion dollars in cash!” 1 Our neighbor, Mrs. Gable, brought her little grandson over to our place. My mom watched my face like a hawk. “Jessie,” she said, testing the waters, “look how adorable he is. If you had a sweet little brother like this, I’d be the happiest mom in the world.” I almost laughed out loud. Having lived this nightmare once before, I knew the truth. It didn’t matter what I wanted. The “brother” was already on his way. This whole song and dance with Mrs. Gable was just a setup, a way to trick me into saying, “I wish I had a brother,” so they could saddle me with the crushing responsibility of raising him. In my last life, I fell for it. I was that naive. Because I said, “He’s so cute, I wish I had one,” my parents became deadbeats the second my brother was born. They dumped him on me, making me responsible for his every need. As he grew up, everything fell on my shoulders: his tutoring, his job applications, his car, and his down payment. If I showed the slightest hesitation, the guilt-tripping would start. “It was *your wish* that brought him into this world! You have to be responsible for his life!” My wish could make someone pregnant? Their excuses for wanting a son were more creative than a sci-fi writer. The tragedy is, they repeated it so often that they completely brainwashed my brother. If he failed a test, it was my fault for not finding a better tutor. If he couldn’t get a job, it was my fault for not having the right connections. If he couldn’t afford a house, it was because I wasn’t working hard enough. It all came to a head when he came at me with a knife, screaming, “Why did you even have me if you’re broke?! This is all your fault! If you hadn’t wished for me, I wouldn’t be in this hellhole! Just die!” The little brother I had raised from infancy murdered me in cold blood. And my parents? They signed a document saying they wouldn’t press charges. I was the only one who got hurt in the end. This time, I wouldn’t make the same mistake. When I didn’t say anything, Mrs. Gable gave her grandson a little nudge. “Go on, sweetie. Say hi to your aunty Jessie. Let her hold you.” The kid just stared at me blankly. “See, Jessie?” Mrs. Gable pushed. “He’s such a darling. You should tell your mom to have one for you.” My mom held her breath, her eyes glued to my mouth. She might as well have had “SAY YOU WANT A BROTHER” tattooed on her forehead. I smiled. “Wow, he is so cute. I wish…” My parents’ eyes lit up with pure joy. They both leaned forward, practically vibrating with anticipation. “…I had a mansion!” I declared. “And a yacht!” “And a full ride to Yale!” “And ten billion dollars cash!” The living room went dead silent. Mrs. Gable’s smile froze on her face. My mom’s mouth hung open in shock. My dad’s hand trembled, and he spilled hot tea all over the coffee table. “What kind of nonsense are you talking?!” my mom finally sputtered, her face burning with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. My dad’s face was grim. He set down the teapot with a thud. “Jessie, don’t joke around. We’re talking about something serious.” I blinked innocently. “What’s serious?” “Mrs. Gable asked if you wanted a little brother. What do you think?” I played dumb. “You mean if I want one, I can just have one?” “Of course,” they said in unison. “Anything you wish for, we’ll do our best to make it happen.” “That’s great!” I beamed. “Okay, so, a mansion, a yacht, a scholarship, and ten billion dollars. Which one are you getting me first?” Silence. I raised my voice. “I said! I want a mansion! I want a yacht—” “Enough!” my mom shrieked. The fake smiles were completely gone. 2 Mrs. Gable mumbled an excuse and hurried out with her grandson. The second the door closed, my mom was in my face, her voice dripping with fake concern. “Jessie, be honest. Don’t you want a real brother?” “No,” I said, flatly. “It’s for your own good! You’ll have someone to look out for you.” She was trying to paint a rosy picture of family bonds. “I have friends. I have a boyfriend. I don’t need a brother messing things up.” I picked up an apple from the table and took a loud, deliberate bite. My dad jumped in, using his authoritarian parent voice. “What do you know! When you get married, you’ll be at a disadvantage if you don’t have a brother at home to back you up!” “Oh, well, then I just won’t get married.” I chewed my apple, my voice muffled but clear. “Just date, no marriage. Way less drama.” “Even better!” my mom blurted out. “Then your brother can take care of you when you’re old!” And there it was. The mask finally slipped. They didn’t give a damn about my happiness. They just wanted a son. “Expecting my brother to take care of me in my old age?” I said with a humorless smile. “I’d rather just drop dead now.” “Even if you don’t think about yourself, think about us,” my dad pleaded. “A son is our security! Without a son, people will look down on us. Your mother and I have been pushed around our whole lives. It’s time we had some respect.” I had an answer for that one, too. “Don’t worry. By the time your ‘security’ is grown up, you’ll be in your seventies. At that age, no one’s going to be pushing you around. You could fall flat on your face and no one would even dare to help you up.” My dad’s face turned beet red. He slammed his hand on the table. “How dare you! Is that how you talk to your parents? It’s our right to have a son! We’ve raised you, fed you, clothed you! It’s not your place to tell us what to do!” Finally. The act was over. I put down the apple core and slowly wiped my hands. “You should have just said that from the start. You want a kid, fine. Why drag me into it? What’s the matter…” I leaned forward, staring into their evasive, guilty eyes. “Were you planning on popping him out and then dumping him on me? Making me a free nanny and ATM for your perfect little family of three for the rest of my life?” Their faces crumpled. He’d hit the nail on the head. My dad was shaking with rage, pointing a finger at me. “You ungrateful brat! We wasted our lives raising you! What’s wrong with a man wanting a son to carry on the family name? You’re the older sister! It’s your duty to help your brother! It’s the natural order of things!” I threw my hands up. “The only way I’m helping him is by preventing him from being born in the first place.” “We’re broke. You two don’t even have retirement savings. Bringing a child into this is just cruel.” Seeing that yelling wasn’t working, my mom switched tactics instantly. She clutched her still-flat stomach, her eyes welling up with tears. “Jessie, look at me, I’m not young anymore. The baby is already four months along, I can feel him moving. And an abortion would be so hard on my body… can’t you have a little sympathy for your own mother?” “Sympathy?” I scoffed, my voice sharp as a razor. “Did you think about how ‘hard on your body’ it would be when you were getting it on? You don’t use protection, you have your fun, and now you want me to feel sorry for you? You deal with the consequences of your own carelessness. Don’t you dare try to guilt-trip me.” They were stunned by my bluntness, their faces a spectacular kaleidoscope of red and white. My dad was practically apoplectic. “We’re having this baby!” The fox was finally out of the bag. 3 Seeing them furious but helpless, I knew my moment had come. I whipped out my phone, hit record, and aimed the camera straight at their shocked faces. “See? All you had to do was admit you wanted him. No need to pin it on me.” “Hey, future-brother, what’s up,” I said to the camera. “Just so you know, for the record, I was completely against this. It was Mom and Dad’s idea. So if your life sucks, you can blame them. Your big sister has nothing to do with it.” “There’s no throne for you to inherit in this family, just a sink full of dirty dishes. You’re being born to be a wage slave, a cog in the machine, another speck of cosmic dust.” “Mom and Dad brought you into this miserable world, but they don’t have the means to give you a good life. You’re on your own, kid.” “Good luck! We’re all just trying to survive out here~” I stopped the recording and calmly hit “save.” On the screen, my parents’ faces had gone from red to purple to a pasty, dead gray. “You… you heartless monster!” my dad finally found his voice, screaming with pure, unadulterated rage. “You say no? Fine! We’re having him anyway!” I raised an eyebrow. “Go for it. Be my guest. Just remember what I said today.” I had my video evidence. In my last life, whenever things didn’t go my brother’s way, he took it out on me, physically. My parents would either pretend not to see or add fuel to the fire. “You’re the big sister. You should be more patient with him.” “If it wasn’t for you wanting a brother, he wouldn’t even be here.” “He has feelings. You need to be his punching bag.” This time, let’s see how “patient” they are when they’re the ones being blamed and screamed at. When winter break ended, the first thing I did back at college was start posting my daily workouts on social media. I’d finish my last sprint, my sweat-soaked tank top clinging to my stomach. It was flat and toned, with zero signs of childbirth. I’d zoom in on my abs and hit record. “Two miles done! Let’s get it again tomorrow!” It was crucial to document my body’s status during my mom’s pregnancy. In my last life, I didn’t know she was pregnant. I came home for the summer and was handed a baby. I was sitting outside with the newborn when a high school classmate walked by. She stared at my puffy, sleep-deprived eyes and the screaming baby in my arms. “Wow, Jessie,” she blurted out. “You’re only a junior and you already have a kid?” My mother didn’t correct her. Instead, a sly little smile played on her lips. “Oh, we just call him her little brother, hehe.” She deliberately let people believe he was mine. No matter how much I tried to explain, no one believed me. This time, I posted everywhere. Every day, a two-mile run. Hiking on weekends. Crunches in my dorm room at night. My roommates thought I’d lost my mind. “Jessie, you’re already so skinny! Why are you trying to kill yourself? You’re making the rest of us look bad!” They didn’t understand. I was doing it to stay alive. The semester flew by. I had killer abs to show for it. I had just posted a new ab-selfie to my Instagram story when my dad called. “Summer break started two days ago. Why aren’t you home yet?” “I just sent you two hundred bucks. Buy a bus ticket. I expect you home tomorrow!” Oh, here we go. They were summoning me home to be their free postpartum nurse. I accepted the $200, then immediately bought a ticket on a bus heading south. [Dad, I got a summer job at a factory with some friends. Won’t be home.] My parents were cheap. Even if I didn’t come home, they’d never pay for a real nurse. And my dad was the laziest man alive. With him in charge of my mom’s recovery, things were about to get very interesting at home. 4 For the first few days after the baby was born, my mom’s Facebook page was a highlight reel of a perfect life. Close-ups of the baby’s tiny hands. A loving portrait of their happy family of three. She posted nine-picture collages eight times a day. The captions were triumphant. [It just had to be a son. Now that I have a son, even the air I breathe is sweeter!] [Finally did right by our ancestors. The family name won’t die with us.] [The happiest family of three!] Too bad their perfect life didn’t even last a week. My dad called me in the middle of the night, his frustration practically sizzling through the phone. “Your mother is impossible! I close my eyes for two minutes, and she’s whining that her head hurts, her back hurts, her bones are falling apart, and I need to give her a massage. Who doesn’t hurt after having a baby? Back in my day, women were back in the fields the next day!” “I wake up before dawn to make her oatmeal, and she complains it’s bland! I buy the best pork hock for a soup, slave over it, bring it to her, and she says it’s too greasy! She’s acting like a damn princess just because she had a C-section!” “It’s one thing after another, I swear to God! I’m done! I’m not waiting on her hand and foot anymore!” My mom was even worse. She sent me a flood of tearful voice messages, with the baby wailing in the background. “Your father is a useless idiot! He’s going to be the death of me! Your brother is screaming his head off from hunger, I tell him to make a bottle, and he uses boiling water! The formula just clumps up! A pig could learn how to do it, but I’ve told him a thousand times and he still can’t remember!” “He sleeps like the dead at night. I have to shove him just to wake him up. I finally get him up to change a diaper, and he just wipes the baby’s butt with a wet wipe and shoves him back into a new diaper without drying him off! It’s been five days! Five days! And the baby’s butt is already raw!” It was like they’d coordinated. One after another, they gave me my royal decree. “You have to come home! We can’t handle this!” In my last life, when I was the one taking care of her, she called me an ungrateful brat if I did the slightest thing wrong. If the water was one degree too cold, I was useless. If the chicken soup wasn’t hot enough, I was trying to poison her. When my dad came home, she’d tell him exaggerated stories, and then they’d both scream at me. Now that they had to do it themselves, they couldn’t stand each other after less than a week. I’d rather be a wage slave in a factory than go home and face the three of them. Go home? Only if I had a death wish. [I don’t want to get in the way. It’s better if you three just work things out and have a happy life!] I really hoped they’d just forget I existed. And stop trying to drag me down with them. 5 After a long day at the factory, I checked my phone and it had exploded. In the family group chat, my parents and the entire extended family were putting on a real show for me. It started with a video my dad posted. In it, my mom was curled up in bed, looking pale as a ghost. The sheets beneath her were stained with blood. Her moans were faint but constant. He wrote: [Your mother’s C-section incision is infected, she has a 102-degree fever, and her daughter is out having the time of her life. What a disgrace to this family!] The rest of the relatives immediately piled on. Aunt Carol: [Your mother risked her life to give you a companion, and this is how you repay her? You ungrateful brat, get your ass home and take care of her!] Aunt Sue: [How did you raise such a daughter? You never should have let her go to college! Education makes women wild!] Uncle Bob: [Get home and do your duty! If a girl doesn’t learn how to keep a house and raise kids, what man is ever going to want to marry you!] … Wow, they were really laying on the guilt. Fine. Two can play at that game. [@Aunt Carol, didn’t you stick Grandma in a nursing home and not visit for three years? Don’t pretend you’re some great saint now.] [@Aunt Sue, isn’t your son-in-law cheating on your daughter and beating her? Maybe you have bigger things to worry about?] [@Uncle Bob, did your son ever pay back that $30,000 he owes the loan sharks? Next time they show up at my door, should I tell them where you’re hiding?] The group chat exploded again. When they couldn’t win with logic, they pulled rank. [We are your elders! How dare you speak to us that way!] I ignored them. [Yeah, yeah, you’re all saints, and I’m the monster. Since you all feel so sorry for my mom, why don’t you take turns taking care of her?] [First person to volunteer, I’ll pay for your Uber.] The chat went dead silent. The profiles that had been so self-righteous just a second ago all went quiet. I see these relatives once a year, if that. I wasn’t afraid of burning bridges. They wanted to guilt-trip me? Not a chance. Finally, my mom jumped in, playing the victim. [Jessie, please. Your brother cries all night, your dad can’t even make a bottle right. We need you. Please, have pity on me. The pain from my incision is so bad I want to jump off a roof!] So now she feels the pain. We’re just getting started. In my last life, I was her slave that summer. At 3 AM, I’d be pacing the balcony with a screaming baby, and she’d yell from her bed, “Hold him tighter! If you drop my son, I’ll skin you alive!” I washed so many cloth diapers that my hands were raw and cracked. I helped her get up and walk around every day until my own back ached constantly. After a month of non-stop work, my mom was fully recovered, healthy and strong. I looked like I’d given birth to octuplets and developed chronic joint pain. And all I got for it was, “The pain you feel is a sweet pain. Your brother will repay you when he grows up.” This time, all the pain of childbirth was hers to bear. So I gave her own words right back to her: [Pain is good. It’s the ‘sweet pain’ of motherhood. You brought a son into this world, you’ve brought honor to the family. It’s all worth it! I’m sure your son will repay you when he grows up!] And how will he repay you? By screaming at you, by hitting you, and eventually, by coming at you with a knife. Now that’s a repayment that really hits deep.

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After studying abroad, I returned to find my childhood friend Wyatt Vance had a new girlfriend who instantly hated me. No gift? I was clique-ish. Keeping distance? I was playing games. Wearing a gown? I was seducing him. Exhausted, I cut ties with Wyatt. He snapped: “Willow, our families do business! This is just a threat to make me break up with Ellie! She’s just insecure because she loves me too much! Why corner her?” I was speechless. Stupidity, it seemed, was contagious. Later, when I took over the family corporation and Wyatt’s family fortune crumbled, he crawled back. “Help me this once, and I’ll dump Ellie. Her possessiveness scared away all our partners.” I smiled wearily. “Oh, I couldn’t. My back isn’t built for that baggage. You two deserve each other.” Leaning in, I added sweetly, “Besides, as you said, that’s just how she loves you.” 1 I’d spent the last semester overseas, helping my parents manage a branch of the family business. The moment I got back, I set up a reunion with my childhood crew. That’s when I learned that Wyatt, the third in our quartet, was officially off the market. I was just about to tease him when the private room door swung open. A girl stood there, a vision in a flowing white dress, her long, dark hair framing a face that was the very picture of innocence. She stood frozen, biting her lower lip, her eyes fixed on me with a wounded expression. “Ellie? I thought you were resting. What are you doing here?” Wyatt was the first to react, jogging over to wrap an arm around her. He grinned at us, introducing his girlfriend, Ellie Reed. “I missed you,” Ellie murmured into his chest, her voice a soft, breathy whisper. “I just… I don’t feel safe when you’re not around.” The rest of us just chuckled, ribbing Wyatt about his good fortune. “My girl’s the sweet, quiet type,” he boasted, “not like Willow here. She’s one of the guys, hahaha…” I shot him a playful glare, and the lively atmosphere returned. The four of us had been inseparable since we were in diapers. Our parents were all business partners, and our bond had stayed strong through the years. They knew I was easy-going and saw me as a sister, one of the crew. I played along, but I always knew where the lines were. I was in the middle of complaining about how bland the food was abroad when Ellie, who had been silent until now, spoke up. Her voice, thick with emotion, cut through the chatter as she stared at the gifts I’d laid out on the table. “Were you trying to leave me out on purpose, Willow?” Her voice was quiet, but the sob catching in her throat silenced the room. “You brought something back for everyone in your little group. Everyone but me.” “And you keep going on and on about how glamorous your life is overseas. I’ve never even been on a plane. Are you trying to mock me?” Her shoulders started to tremble, as if she were carrying the weight of some immense injustice. “Do you think I’m not good enough for Wyatt, Willow? Is that why you couldn’t even be bothered to get me a gift?” Wyatt’s face softened with pity. He immediately pulled her closer, wiping at her tears and cooing reassurances. I exchanged a glance with the other two guys. The air had turned thick with awkwardness. I set down my chopsticks and looked at Ellie, keeping my voice as even as I could. “You’ve misunderstood. You and Wyatt weren’t together when I left, so I hadn’t planned for an extra gift. It was an oversight on my part.” “If you don’t mind,” I continued, “I can have something sent to you tomorrow. Just let me know what kind of jewelry or perfume you like.” I thought that would smooth things over, but it only made her cry harder. She clutched at Wyatt’s shirt, burying her face in his chest. Her voice came out muffled, a portrait of misery. “Are you trying to buy me off? What kind of person do you think I am? Do you think a bottle of perfume will just shut me up? It’s not about the things. It’s just… I feel so excluded.” Mason, sitting next to me, frowned. As the oldest and most level-headed of our group, his words carried weight. “Ellie, Willow’s not like that,” he said calmly. “We’ve known her our whole lives. She’s straightforward. There are no hidden meanings. She just didn’t know about you ahead of time. It wasn’t personal.” Leo, the second oldest, jumped in, trying to lighten the mood. “Yeah, exactly! Willow asked us what we wanted before she left, and we all told her to just grab whatever. She went out of her way to pick this stuff out for us. She’s a good friend. It’s Wyatt’s fault for not telling her. Don’t overthink it, really. It’s not about you.” But it seemed to make Ellie feel even more victimized. She lifted her tear-streaked face to Wyatt. “Wyatt, you see? They’re all ganging up on me to defend her. Maybe I shouldn’t have come today. Am I just… in the way? Do you also think I’m just being crazy?” Wyatt’s expression soured instantly. He shot me a glare, his eyes dripping with blame, as if I’d committed some heinous crime. “Willow, can you just drop it? Ellie’s already sensitive and insecure. Did you have to come back and immediately start cornering her?” “It’s just a damn gift! You could have just offered to get her one and left it at that. Why did you have to explain everything and make her feel even worse?” 2 “Wyatt, man, cool it,” Leo cut in, nudging him lightly. “You know what Willow is like. Why are you losing your temper?” He shot me a reassuring look. Seeing Ellie’s tear-stained face, a knot formed in my stomach. She was my friend’s girlfriend, after all, and I didn’t want our first meeting to be a complete disaster. I decided to just keep my mouth shut. We probably wouldn’t see much of each other anyway. But after a tense silence, Ellie suddenly sprang to her feet, pointing a trembling finger at me as the tears flowed freely. “Why are you all comforting her? I’m the one who was left out! I’m the one who’s hurt! But you’re all gathered around her like I’m the villain, the outsider who doesn’t belong!” Her sudden outburst stunned me into silence. Mason and Leo froze. “I know how close you all are with Wyatt, so I swallowed my pride to come here and try to fit in. But I don’t understand, Willow! This is the first time we’ve ever met, and you’re already making things so difficult for me! What did I ever do to you?” “My roommate even warned me before I came,” she sobbed. “She said the ‘girl’ in these kinds of tight-knit groups always causes trouble. I trusted you, but you and your friends just treated me like a fool for your own amusement!” As her tirade reached its climax, her eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed backward. Wyatt lunged, catching her just in time. “Ellie! Ellie, look at you! You’re so fragile, and you’ve been crying so hard. You’re going to break my heart!” he cried, cradling her. “Wyatt… I’m scared,” she whispered weakly. “I’m scared of Willow…” With that, she went limp in his arms, a perfect damsel in distress. The next second, Wyatt exploded. “Are you happy now, Willow?!” he roared. “What the hell did you learn overseas? How to be a vicious bully? You’re a pampered princess, you have everything! We let you boss us around, and that’s fine!” “I told you to leave Ellie alone! She loves me! Do you think she’d even be at your stupid party if it wasn’t to see me?” “You just had to push her until she passed out! I’m warning you, she is the woman I love, and if anything happens to her, I swear to God I’ll make you pay!” Without another word, he scooped Ellie into his arms, shoved past Mason and Leo, and slammed into me on his way out the door. If Mason hadn’t caught me, I would have crashed into the corner of the table. I steadied myself, my head spinning. It took me a moment to process what had just happened. Is that really how he saw me all these years? A bossy princess? He was the one throwing his weight around. Once the shock subsided, a cold anger settled in. I’d never had someone scream at me like that in my entire life, let alone one of my oldest friends. “Willow, you okay?” Mason asked, his voice laced with concern. He ruffled my hair, just like he used to when we were kids. “Don’t worry, I’ll have a serious talk with him. He’s clearly been blinded by a pretty face, saying things he shouldn’t.” “Seriously!” Leo chimed in, his own anger flaring. “His girlfriend is a textbook manipulator, straight out of one of those online novels. For all we know, she faked that faint! And Wyatt… ‘the woman I love’? Puh-lease. I’m pretty sure he said the same thing about the last one. Hmph. They both owe you a huge apology.” Leo had always been the most fiercely protective of us all. Listening to his rant against Wyatt actually made me feel a little better. I’ve always been decisive. Once I calmed down, I figured I’d just avoid Ellie from now on. Problem solved. As for Wyatt… we had history. And besides, he had saved my life once, a long time ago. I could let this one slide. The semester was starting anyway. We were all busy with classes and our family businesses, and the incident quickly faded into the background. I hadn’t spoken to Wyatt since that night, though I still hung out with Mason and Leo whenever we had time. After a while, Wyatt must have noticed the distance between us. He actually reached out, for the first time in weeks, trying to get the group together and sending me apologetic memes to smooth things over. But I had a business meeting that day and couldn’t make it. Wyatt posted a picture with Mason and Leo on his social media feed. “Amazing steak dinner, courtesy of the big man @MasonThorne! You missed out, @WillowHayes! You owe us next time!” Leo tagged me in a comment too, and I just replied with a laughing emoji. I never expected that, later that night, I’d get a phone call from Ellie. 3 I was surprised to see Ellie’s name on my screen; I’d never given her my number. But I was even more surprised by the venom in her voice. “Well played, Willow. You’ve really mastered the art of playing hard to get.” I froze, caught off guard. This was a far cry from the fragile, wilting flower I’d met. “You’ve been deliberately avoiding Wyatt for the past few weeks, haven’t you? All so he’d be the one to tag you on social media today.” My fingers tightened around my phone, my patience wearing thin. “You’re just using his guilt over your ‘friendship’ to your advantage. You pretend to be too ‘busy’ to see him, then drop a casual emoji on his post. It makes you look gracious while keeping him wrapped around your little finger. You’re just waiting for him to come crawling back to you, aren’t you?” I took a deep breath, trying to smother the fire rising in my chest. “Ellie, this is the second time you’ve come at me like this. I’m letting it go because of Wyatt, but that doesn’t mean I’m a pushover.” “Wyatt and I have known each other for over a decade. I don’t need to ‘play hard to get’ to maintain our friendship. To me, he’s just a friend I grew up with. So take your bizarre accusations and shove them. I’m busy, and I don’t have time for your psycho-drama.” “Don’t play innocent!” she shrieked, her voice so sharp it made my ear ache. “I know your type! You girls in these little cliques are always secretly in love with one of the guys. You can’t stand to see him happy with someone else. You just want them all to yourself!” “You can’t stand seeing me and Wyatt together! You’re playing hard to get to drive a wedge between us! What do you have that I don’t? A little more money? You’re just another spoiled trust-fund baby! Without your family’s cash, you’re nothing…” I rubbed my temples. Listening to her unhinged rant was almost… funny. Was this a personality disorder or just an overactive imagination? “Willow,” her voice suddenly cracked, shifting into a pathetic whimper, “you know how insecure I am. You know I’m scared I won’t fit in. You’re trying to isolate me, to turn everyone against me, aren’t you? Why are you doing this to me? I tried to apologize, and you won’t even accept it…” That sudden, dramatic shift in tone sent a chill down my spine. I knew what was coming. Sure enough, I heard the sound of footsteps, then Wyatt’s roar as he presumably snatched the phone. “What the hell, Willow?! Ellie went out of her way to get your number from me so she could apologize! She was worried there was a misunderstanding between us. She’s bending over backward, and you’re still bullying her?!” Hearing Wyatt instantly take her side, without a moment of hesitation, just exhausted me. His parents were self-made millionaires; you’d think they would’ve raised a son with a mind of his own. “Wyatt,” Ellie’s theatrical, tragic voice piped up from the background, “does Willow just look down on me? Is she trying to break us up? Why else would she keep targeting me? Why won’t she just leave me alone?” Before Wyatt could fall for it again, I cut her off. “Oh, shut up. Your entire world revolves around imaginary rivals, doesn’t it? You just live for the drama. I’ve given you a pass time and again for Wyatt’s sake, but you just don’t quit.” “And you, Wyatt,” I snapped, my voice dripping with contempt, “is that a tumor on your neck, or just your head? A zombie has more brains than you. You believe every word she says. You really think I have nothing better to do than entertain you two and your little freak show?” The frustration from the past few weeks finally boiled over. I was done. I was juggling my studies and the family company, running myself ragged, and these two were my biggest headache. “Since you’re so convinced I’m the villain trying to break you up, then fine. We’re done. You can have a wonderful life with your precious, fragile girlfriend.” “Let’s just delete each other’s numbers. Out of sight, out of mind.” I spat the words out and hung up, my temples throbbing. I knew it was impulsive, but I couldn’t take it anymore. For years, I’d put up with Wyatt’s moods. My parents had helped the Vance family make a few small fortunes over the years, more than repaying the debt for him saving my life as a kid. Just as I was vowing to never speak to Wyatt again, a frantic pounding echoed from my front door.

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1 On my 20th birthday, I did everything my cousin Elara did. Elara had a lavish wedding at a luxury hotel downtown. I found a dark alley and let a stranger defile me. My parents said it was the only way he would mistake Elara for me and take her away. I asked them who he was. They said he was the demon that had haunted our family for generations. The moment I stumbled out of that alley, I could hear the man’s mocking laughter behind me. “Girls these days, huh? Hahaha.” I didn’t turn back. I pretended I didn’t hear. When I was a baby, my parents adopted a girl from an orphanage. She was born in the same city, on the same day, in the same year as me. Our birth certificates were only an hour apart. They named her Elara. My parents said her astrological charts were identical to mine. We grew up as sisters, our lives mirroring each other’s. We were both top students, both talented artists. The only difference was our faces. Earlier this year, Elara came down with a mysterious illness. Doctors couldn’t find a cause. My parents consulted a seer, a woman well-known in certain circles, who told them Elara needed a “warding wedding” to protect her. The date was set for Elara’s 20th birthday. The groom was the son of a distant, poor relative from the countryside. When they heard their son would be marrying into our wealthy family, they agreed immediately. Today was Elara’s wedding. An hour before we were supposed to leave for the hotel, my mother pulled me into the basement. She told me about the curse that had plagued our family for a century, a curse that targeted only the women. Long ago, a man fell madly in love with one of our ancestors. She used him, framed him for a crime he didn’t commit, and led him to a gruesome, unjust death. As he died, his spirit became a demon, an immortal being fueled by vengeance. He cursed our bloodline: every daughter born into our family would be tormented and killed by him. “Your great-aunt, your aunt… they were all his victims,” my mother whispered, her face pale. “That’s why, after you were born, we adopted Elara. Her birth chart is identical to yours. She was meant to be your substitute.” “Today, Elara is having her ritual wedding. You must do exactly the same as she does.” She didn’t have to finish. I understood. “And then what happens?” It sounded insane, but I knew my mother wasn’t lying. “Then the demon will mistake Elara for you. He will take her, and you will finally be safe.” 2 There was no moon tonight. The narrow alley was pitch black. I’d lost my contacts at the club I’d gone to, and my near-sightedness made every step a stumbling guess. I kept bumping into overflowing trash cans. When I got home, my parents were sitting in the living room. Elara and her new husband were not there. They were upstairs, in the newly decorated bridal suite on the third floor. My mother pulled me back into the basement. “Did you do it?” “Yes.” She nodded. “Good. That’s good.” A wave of guilt washed over me. “Will she… will Elara die?” “She is taking your place. You must be grateful for her sacrifice.” Her answer wasn’t direct, but the meaning was clear. Elara’s death was a certainty. “Go take a shower, Cora. Get some rest.” I went to my room. Our house was large; every bedroom had its own bathroom. I turned on the hot water and finally allowed myself to break down, sobbing under the spray. To save my own life, I had just let a stranger… I felt spineless. I scrubbed my skin for almost two hours before I finally got out. My mother knocked on the door with a bowl of soup. “I’m not hungry. I’m going to sleep,” I said, turning off the light. I lay in bed, thinking about Elara. Two years ago, I was in a car accident and needed a transfusion. Elara, despite being anemic herself, insisted on donating blood for me. She wasn’t my biological sister, but she had always treated me like one. She had always protected me. I didn’t want to die, but I couldn’t bear the thought of her dying for me. I had to do something. Her room was on the floor above mine. The entire third floor had been renovated for her and her new husband. I crept upstairs, planning to warn her, to tell her to be careful, to not leave the house. But as I reached her door, I could hear them talking inside. I hesitated, my hand hovering over the doorknob. The conversation sounded like it would go on for a while. Defeated, I went back to my room. I tossed and turned until after 3 AM. When I finally woke up, it was almost ten in the morning. I went downstairs. My mother’s voice was a low, somber whisper. “Elara is gone.” She had gone to wake them for breakfast and found the room empty. Elara’s phone and wallet were still on the nightstand. Her new husband was snoring in bed, completely oblivious. When my mother woke him, he claimed to know nothing. “It must have been the demon,” my mother choked out. “He took her.” “What about her husband?” I asked. “He’s out looking for her.” It was my fault. If I had just warned her last night, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. I had to fix this. I decided to find a paranormal expert, someone who could fight a demon. I ran back to my room and started tearing it apart, looking for anything valuable I could sell to pay for help. Tucked inside my jewelry box, I found a small, folded piece of paper. It was Elara’s handwriting. “Cora, you are not our parents’ biological daughter. You are the one who was adopted. You are my substitute. On our 20th birthday, our fates were meant to be switched. The demon was supposed to mistake you for me, and take you away.” I stared at the note, the world tilting on its axis. It wasn’t possible. I was their daughter. Elara was the orphan. Why would she lie? 3 My mind went blank. I don’t know how long I stood there before I stumbled to the mirror. I looked at my face. I had my father’s eyes, his jawline. I was his daughter. Elara looked nothing like them. So who was lying? My parents, or Elara? I went downstairs. My parents were still sitting on the couch, staring into space. “Mom, have you called the police? We have to report her missing.” “Your blood type is A, your father’s is O,” she said, her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Why are you asking?” “No reason.” My blood type is A, Elara’s is O. Genetically, either of us could be their child. But Elara’s note had planted a seed of doubt, a strange sense of distance between me and the people I’d called my parents my whole life. “I’m going to go look for her,” I said, needing to escape the house. How could she have just vanished? And how could her husband have slept through it? Was he lying? I decided my first stop would be a psychic. I’d heard about a powerful seer in the West End who could communicate with the other side. It took asking a dozen people before I found her address, tucked away in a grimy, forgotten alley. The alley stank of sewage; a broken pipe was leaking foul water onto the cobblestones. I held my breath and hopped over the puddles. At the end of the alley, an old woman was dozing in a rocking chair, basking in a sliver of sunlight. “Excuse me, are you Madame Morwen?” She didn’t move. I asked again, louder. Nothing. I reached out and tapped her shoulder. Her head lolled to the side at an unnatural angle. I gasped and checked for a pulse. There was none. She was dead. “Help!” I screamed. “Someone’s died!” Suddenly, her hand shot out and gripped my wrist. It was like being clamped in a vise. Something sharp pricked my skin. I looked down. The dead woman was staring at me, her long, sharp fingernails digging into my flesh. “A zombie!” I shrieked. “Hush, child,” the old woman hissed, her eyes snapping open. They were long and narrow, like a snake’s. “I’m not dead.” An old wives’ tale surfaced in my mind: people with snake-like eyes are not to be trusted. “I have a sister… well, a cousin. She’s missing. I was hoping you could help me find her.” “Give me her birth details,” she rasped. I told her Elara’s date, time, and place of birth. “Is that correct?” she asked. “Yes. We were born less than an hour apart. Our charts are identical.” Madame Morwen asked for more details, then closed her eyes. I waited. After about ten minutes, she opened them, her brow furrowed. “Strange. In all my years, I have never seen a chart like this. It is a death chart. The person born under it should not have survived. But the strangest part is that you, with the same chart, are alive.” She asked for my details. This time, she traced patterns on the fabric of her dress. Her head snapped up, her eyes boring into me. “One of you was brought in to alter the other’s fate,” she said. “Your parents must have consulted a powerful practitioner.” “Which one of us?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Which one is the substitute?”

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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.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “385554”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

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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I was publicly crucified on Instagram by my boss’s wife. She tagged me by name, accusing me of seducing a married man. “Sliding into his DMs late at night, and you still pretend to be so innocent?” Her next story was a picture of me walking into the office. “Just an intern, carrying a fifteen-thousand-dollar bag to work. I wonder where that money came from?” When I confronted my boss, he just laughed. “My wife is just… passionate. She loves me a lot. You shouldn’t be so sensitive, kid.” The next morning, when he was handed his termination notice, I smiled sweetly. “Don’t take it to heart. My dad just loves me a lot.” 1 It was 11 PM on a Tuesday. I was doing a final review of the “Project Apex” contract when I found a fatal flaw someone had overlooked. The payment terms. They had been extended by a full sixty days from the initial draft. A tiny change in a single number. It was enough to completely derail the company’s cash flow down the line. I immediately sent the file to my direct supervisor. [Mark, urgent issue with the Apex contract. Please call when you see this.] A minute later, my phone lit up with an unknown number. I answered. It wasn’t my boss, Mark Thompson. It was a woman’s sharp, angry voice. “Who is this? What kind of shady business do you have with my husband in the middle of the night?” I frowned. “Hello, this is his colleague from the office, Gra—” She cut me off. “I don’t care who you are! Texting a married man this late? Are you trying to sleep with him? Have you no shame?” I lowered the volume on my phone. “There’s a critical issue in clause 7.3 of the contract. It’s a Category A risk. If Mark is unavailable now, I will report this directly to the CEO’s office in the morning.” The line went silent for a few seconds. Then, her voice returned, dripping with scorn. “You think I’m stupid? How many little homewreckers use ‘work’ as an excuse to lure a man out at night?” “You just wait,” she hissed, and hung up. 2 The next day, I had barely sat down at my desk when a woman stormed toward me. Her eyes were bloodshot. She slammed her hand on my desk and pointed a finger in my face. “It’s you! You’re the one! The little tramp sending my husband suggestive texts at midnight.” “You look all sweet and innocent, but does your mother know you spend your days trying to seduce your boss?” Her shrill voice cut through the office chatter, and everything went dead silent. My face burned with embarrassment. I quickly composed myself. “Ma’am, you’ve misunderstood. Yesterday was about the contract—” “Misunderstood what?” Her eyes raked over me, full of malice. “I hear you’re just an intern?” “Where does an intern get the money for a fifteen-thousand-dollar bag to come to work? It’s not clean money, is it?” Every eye in the office was on me, a mix of morbid curiosity and office gossip. Mark finally showed up, an expression of artful distress on his face. He grabbed his wife’s arm. “Jessica, please, not at the office.” She yanked her arm away, her voice rising to a shriek. “Am I making a scene? Or are you just trying to protect her?” She shot a venomous look at me. “Let me tell you something, little intern. My husband is not for you.” Mark sighed and let her go. He walked over to my desk and patted my shoulder, a little too familiarly. “Grace,” he said, his voice low, a fake smile plastered on his face. “My wife is just… passionate. She loves me a lot. Don’t be so sensitive.” I brushed his hand off my shoulder and looked coldly at the couple. “Mark,” I said, my voice steady. “If being ‘sensitive’ is the term for having a normal human reaction to public slander and workplace harassment, then I suggest you reread the company’s HR policies.” I paused for a beat, adding, “And for the record, my bag was a graduation present. From my father.” 3 Mark’s face turned purple. He dragged his still-fuming wife away. The silence in the office lasted for three seconds before erupting into a flurry of whispers. “That bag… is it real? I just looked it up. It’s a limited edition Céline. Fifteen grand.” “For an intern? Tsk, I guess Mark’s wife wasn’t lying.” I glanced up, and the colleagues who had been whispering furiously bent their heads over their keyboards, pretending to work. No one spoke to me for the rest of the day. When someone needed a stapler, they walked all the way across the office to avoid asking me, as if I were contagious. Just then, a hot cup of coffee was placed gently on my desk. It was Lily from Accounting, her face a mask of concern. “Grace, don’t listen to them. I know Jessica.” Her voice was soft and soothing. “She’s not a bad person, she just has a quick temper.” She continued, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “And… people aren’t trying to be mean about your bag. They’re just curious. I mean, we all know what the intern salary is… Ugh, I shouldn’t have said anything.” She slapped her hand over her mouth in mock-regret. I looked at her. Her eyes were full of fake pity, but underneath, I could see a flicker of satisfaction she couldn’t quite hide. I didn’t touch the coffee. “Thanks,” I said coolly. “But I don’t drink instant.” A crack appeared in her sweet, friendly facade. 4 I stood up and walked straight to Mark’s office. When he saw me, a glint appeared in his eyes. “Grace! Come in, have a seat.” I walked up to his desk, my voice like ice. “Mark, I expect a public apology from your wife, Jessica Thompson.” His smile faltered for a second before returning. “Grace, come on. Why take it so seriously? You know how women are. They get jealous.” He got up and walked around his desk toward me. I instinctively took a step back. He reached past me and locked the office door. He turned back, his eyes roaming over my body. “Grace, you know, my wife has a point. An intern with a bag like that…” “Instead of some old rich guy, why not bet on a winner like me? You know?” He leaned in, and the greasy smell of his cologne washed over me. I fought back the urge to gag. “Mark,” I said, my voice dangerously low. “I suggest you show some respect. Otherwise, I can’t be responsible for what happens next.” He paused, then a smug, knowing smile spread across his face. “Grace, you need to think carefully.” “Stick with me, and you’ll go far. Much further than some little intern who might not even get a full-time offer at the end of this.” I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. “Mark, is that a threat?” He shrugged. “I’m just giving you an opportunity. A chance to change your life.” I looked at him, and a slow, cold smile spread across my face. “Okay, Mark. You’ve given me a lot to think about. Let me consider your… generous offer.”

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