Category: English

My boyfriend and I both got acute appendicitis after a bad meal. His parents drove 300 miles overnight to be with him. His mom sat by his bed, crying, while his dad rushed around paying bills and picking up prescriptions. My parents, who live in the same city, finally called the next day. Their voices were full of concern. “Oh, sweetie, you scared Mommy to death! How did this happen? You poor thing. “Is the surgery over? That’s good! Well, honey, we’re not going to come down. Your brother is a senior this year, and we can’t leave him. Insurance should cover most of it, right? “Do you have enough money? If not… maybe you could ask a coworker for a loan?” 1 I was on a video call with my boyfriend, Michael, when a pain like a power drill shot through my stomach. On the other end of the line, his voice was weak. “Jenna, my stomach is killing me. I think I need to go to the hospital…” “Me… too…” The pain made me break out in a cold sweat. I could barely hold my phone. We both ended up calling 911 and, in a strange twist of fate, were admitted to the same floor of the same hospital. Michael was in room 308, I was in 312. The surgery went well. When the anesthesia wore off, I felt like I’d been hit by a truck. The nurse said I needed someone to stay with me, at least for the first night. “Should I call your parents?” she asked kindly. I shook my head and fumbled for my own phone. “Mom…” my voice was as faint as a whisper. “Jenna! What happened?! Your aunt said you were in the hospital? You had surgery?” My mom’s voice was frantic. A lump formed in my throat. At the end of the day, she was still my mom. She still cared. “Yeah, acute appendicitis. They operated last night. I’m feeling a lot better now.” “Oh, my God, you scared me to death! What happened? Did you eat something bad? Oh, my poor baby girl, you’ve been through so much!” She went on and on, her voice full of worry. The self-pity I’d been feeling washed over me, and I almost started crying. “Mom…” “Well, as long as the surgery is over, that’s all that matters! Oh, you kids… you’re giving your father and me a heart attack!” she continued. I gathered my courage. “Mom, the nurse said I need someone to stay with me tonight…” I was hoping she’d say, “We’re on our way.” But her tone shifted. “Jenna, honey, look… the surgery’s done, you’re fine… It’s just… it’s a real hassle for us to get down there. And your brother, Tyler, has his SATs coming up. This is a critical time for him. We can’t even let him eat out for a single meal. We’re just… we’re swamped.” My heart sank. “Oh… it’s okay. You guys are busy.” My own voice sounded hollow. “Oh, good! I’m glad you understand! Oh, by the way,” she said, as if just remembering, “the surgery, insurance will cover it, right? Do you have enough money? If not, maybe you could ask a friend or a coworker for a loan to tide you over?” After I hung up, I stared at the ceiling, the tears finally falling. The woman in the bed next to me looked over, concerned. “Honey, you don’t have anyone to stay with you? I can call for a private nurse if you want.” I shook my head, my voice hoarse. “Thank you, ma’am, but I’ll be fine.” Just then, the door creaked open. It was Michael, slowly making his way in, pushing his IV stand. “Jenna, how are you feeling? My parents are here. They brought a ton of food. Want some?” Behind him stood a middle-aged couple. The woman was carrying two insulated containers, and the man had a bag of fruit. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Davis…” I struggled to sit up. “Oh, honey, don’t move!” Mrs. Davis rushed over and gently pushed me back down. “Michael told us you both got sick at the same time! What are the odds? How are you feeling? Still in pain?” I shook my head, my nose starting to sting again. “I made some chicken soup,” she said, opening one of the containers. A rich, delicious aroma filled the room. “I simmered it all morning. It’s very nourishing. You should have some.” “Thank you, Mrs. Davis. You really didn’t have to.” “Nonsense! Michael told us you’re here all by yourself, with no family nearby. It’s our pleasure to help.” She ladled some soup into a bowl, carefully blew on it to cool it down, and handed it to me. My hand trembled as I took the bowl. Through the steam, I saw the genuine concern in her eyes, and I wanted to cry. “You’re so kind,” I whispered. “Silly girl. When your parents aren’t here, we’re your parents.” She patted my head. “If you need anything, just let us know. Don’t be shy.” Mr. Davis was peeling an apple, expertly cutting it into small slices. “It’s tough for you young people, working so far from home. It’s when you’re sick that you need someone the most. Michael’s mom took a week off to take care of him, and I’m using my vacation time.” I listened, a mix of emotions churning inside me. We were both their children, in a way. Michael’s parents could take a week off to care for their son, but mine couldn’t even be bothered to visit. 2 That afternoon, my mom called again. “Jenna, have you eaten? What did you have?” I looked at the chicken soup and rice Mrs. Davis had just brought me. “Yes,” I said quietly. “The family of the patient next door brought me something.” “Oh, that’s wonderful!” Her voice brightened. “See? There are still good people in the world! Make sure you thank them properly!” “I will.” “By the way, how much did the surgery cost? How much will insurance cover?” “The deposit was $10,000. I’m not sure how much will be reimbursed yet.” “$10,000?!” Her voice shot up. “Why is it so expensive?! Isn’t it a minor surgery?” “It’s laparoscopic now,” I explained. “The equipment is expensive, and so is the anesthesia.” “That’s highway robbery!” she said, her voice full of indignation. “Do you have enough money? If not, you need to let us know. I’ll have your father borrow some.” A small flicker of warmth ignited in my chest. “I have enough for now. I should get a lot of it back from insurance.” “Oh, good, good,” she said, relieved. “Your brother was just saying he wanted to video call you, but he was afraid of bothering you.” “It’s okay. I’m feeling much better.” I actually wanted to see my brother. When the call connected, Tyler’s face appeared on the screen. “Hey, sis. You feeling better?” “Much better. Thanks for asking.” I was touched. He was finally showing some concern. “Hey, sis,” he said, leaning closer to the screen. “Check out my new kicks. The new Kobe retros! They’re limited edition!” I stared at the shoes on his feet, which had to have cost at least $200. I didn’t know what to say. “Aren’t they sick?” he asked, still showing them off. “They’re nice,” I said, my voice flat. “Mom bought them for me!” he said proudly. “A reward for my mock SAT scores!” From the other side of the screen, I heard my mom’s voice. “Tyler, your sister is sick! Why are you talking about that now? Jenna, honey, you get some rest. We won’t bother you.” The call ended. I stared at the black screen, a heavy feeling in my chest. Mrs. Davis came back, this time with a bowl of congee. “Jenna, have some of this for dinner. It’s easy to digest.” “Thank you, Mrs. Davis. You’re going to so much trouble.” “No trouble at all!” she said with a smile. “Michael’s dad is with him. I’m just sitting around anyway.” She watched me eat, then asked, “Jenna, when are your parents coming? Do you need me to help you contact them?” I shook my head. “They’re… not coming. My brother has his SATs soon. They can’t get away.” Mrs. Davis paused for a second, then patted my hand. “Of course. That’s a big deal. Well, if you need anything at all these next few days, you just let me know. Don’t you hesitate.” That night, the pain from my incision kept me awake. I pressed the call button for the nurse. It took a while for her to come, and the pain was making me sweat. The woman in the next bed saw my distress and pressed the button again for me. “There’s only one nurse on duty at night. She’s swamped. Are you sure you don’t have anyone coming to stay with you?” I shook my head, biting my lip to keep from crying out. Just then, the door creaked open. It was Mrs. Davis. “Jenna, you’re still awake? I heard a noise.” “The incision hurts,” I said weakly. “I called for the nurse, but she hasn’t come yet.” “Oh, dear. You wait right here. I’ll go find her.” She left, and a few minutes later, she returned with the nurse. “Come on, dear, this child is in a lot of pain.” The nurse gave me a painkiller, and the pain slowly started to fade. Mrs. Davis sat by my bed, holding my hand. “Feeling better? Does it still hurt?” I shook my head, the tears starting to fall again. “Much better. Thank you, Mrs. Davis.” “Silly girl. You don’t have to thank me.” She wiped my tears away. “Go to sleep now. I’ll stay here with you for a while.” In that moment, I wished so badly that she was my mother. 3 The next morning, the phone woke me up. It was my mom. “Jenna, feeling better? Did you sleep well?” I looked around the empty room. “Much better,” I said quietly. “That’s good,” she said, her voice cheerful. “Guess what? Your father bought a huge fish for your brother yesterday and made soup to help his brain! Tyler loved it!” I was silent, not knowing how to respond. “By the way, did you find out how much insurance will cover? If you get a lot back, you can just use that money for now. If it’s not enough, let us know.” “Okay.” “Alright, well, you get some rest. I’m going to make your brother some lunch!” The call ended. I stared at the ceiling, a cold feeling spreading through me. Michael came to visit, pushing his IV stand. “How are you? Better?” I nodded. “Much better. Where are your parents?” “My dad went back to work, and my mom went to the grocery store.” He sat down in the chair by my bed. “When are your parents coming?” “They’re not,” I said quietly. Michael frowned. “Why not? You still need someone to take care of you.” “My brother has his SATs. They can’t get away.” I said the words, but I didn’t even believe them myself. “The SATs are important, but you live in the same city. One of them could have stayed home, and the other could have at least brought you a meal.” I forced a smile. “It’s okay. I can take care of myself.” “Take care of yourself?” Michael pointed at my hand, still connected to the IV. “You can barely even eat by yourself.” Just then, Mrs. Davis returned with a big bag of groceries. “Jenna, you’re awake! I bought you some fruit and snacks. For when you get hungry.” She pulled out a fancy-looking container. “This is protein powder. For post-op recovery. It helped Michael recover really fast.” “Mrs. Davis, that’s too expensive. I can’t take it.” “Take it!” she insisted. “I already bought it, and I can’t return it. It’s hard for you young people, all alone out here. We have to look out for each other.” I took the container, my eyes welling up again. At lunchtime, while Mrs. Davis was serving us food, my parents video-called. “Jenna, have you eaten? What are you having?” my mom’s face appeared on the screen. I showed her the nutritious meal Mrs. Davis had made. “The family of the patient next door made it for me.” “Oh, that looks delicious! See? There are still good people in the world!” my mom said with a laugh. “Tyler is having a feast today! Your dad made him lamb stew! It’s very nourishing!” The camera turned to their dining table, which was laden with food. In the center was a large pot of steaming lamb stew. My brother was stuffing his face, grease dripping from his chin. “Hey, sis, look how tender this lamb is!” he said, showing off to the camera. A wave of resentment washed over me. “Mom, I could use some nourishment too…” “Oh, honey, you have the patient’s family taking care of you!” my mom said dismissively. “This is a critical time for your brother. He needs to eat well! Okay, gotta go! The lamb will get cold!” The video ended. I stared at my phone, my hand trembling. Mrs. Davis had seen the whole thing. She sighed and patted my shoulder. “Jenna, honey, I’ll make you lamb stew tonight.” 4 That afternoon, the pain in my incision got worse, and I started running a low-grade fever. The doctor said it was a post-op infection and that I needed a stronger antibiotic, one that wasn’t well-covered by insurance. The nurse brought me the bill. “You’ll need to make another deposit of $5,000.” I didn’t have that much cash, and my credit card was maxed out. After a lot of hesitation, I called home. “Mom, my incision is infected. I need a different antibiotic, and insurance doesn’t cover much of it. I need to pay another $5,000… I don’t have enough. Could you… could you lend me some?” I asked, my voice small. There was a moment of silence on the other end, then my mom’s frantic voice. “How much? $5,000? Why do we have to pay again?! Didn’t we already pay $10,000?” “It’s a better antibiotic. I have an infection…” I explained. “An infection? How could you be so careless!” Her voice was accusatory. “Did you not listen to the doctor? Did you move around too much? Did you eat something you shouldn’t have?” “I didn’t…” I said, my voice full of hurt. “You kids are so much trouble!” she complained. “And now we have to spend more money! I swear…” My dad seemed to take the phone. “Jenna, it’s not that we don’t want to help, but we just paid for Tyler’s SAT prep course for next semester. It’s a lot of money. Can you… can you figure something out? Ask a coworker? Or maybe talk to the hospital about a payment plan?” My mom added from the background, “Yeah, talk to the doctor! Can’t you just use a cheaper antibiotic? You’re young, you’re not that fragile!” My heart turned to ice. “Dad, Mom, I’m your daughter. I’m sick. I need your help…” “We know you’re sick, but what do you want us to do?!” my dad said, his voice full of irritation. “You’ve been working for years. You don’t even have $5,000 saved up? How do you manage your money?” “I send money home every month…” I said quietly. “And how much is that?! Do you think your brother’s education is free? Do you think the household runs on air?” his voice grew angrier. “Look, we’ll see what we can do. We’ll call you back later!” He hung up. I clutched my phone, the tears streaming down my face. Michael was standing in the doorway. He had obviously heard everything. He walked in, his face grim. “Jenna, your parents…” “They’ll call back later,” I interrupted, trying to fool myself. “They just don’t have the cash on hand. They need some time to get it.” Michael sat on my bed and took my hand. “Jenna, wake up. They’re not going to send the money. Did you hear what they said? Is that how parents are supposed to talk to their sick daughter?” I shook my head, the tears falling faster. “No, they’re just… they’re just worried… Tyler really does need the money…” “Tyler needs money, but you don’t?” Michael’s voice was full of frustration. “You’re lying in a hospital bed with an infection and a fever! You need this medicine! This is life or death!” “It’s not life or death, it’s just an infection…” I was still making excuses for them. Michael took a deep breath, trying to calm down. “Jenna, I know you don’t want to face it. But look at how my parents have been treating me these past few days, and how your parents have been treating you. Isn’t the difference obvious?” I was silent. I knew he was right, but I didn’t want to admit it. “Okay, how about this.” Michael took out his phone. “I’ll call your parents and tell them I’m lending you the money, and that I’ll pay them back. Okay?” “No!” I said quickly. “That will just make them angrier…” Michael looked me in the eye. “Jenna, let’s just try it. Just once. You call them one more time. Tell them the hospital is demanding the money, and that you can’t get the medicine without it. Let’s just see what they do. Please?” I hesitated, my mind at war with itself. I knew he was right, but I was terrified of confirming the horrible truth. “I’m scared…” I whispered. “You have to face it, Jenna,” Michael said, his hands on my shoulders. “Otherwise, they’ll keep treating you like this forever. You deserve better. You deserve to be loved, and cared for, and valued.” I looked into his determined eyes and finally nodded. “Okay. I’ll call.”

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The New Year was just around the corner when my husband, our daughter, and I moved into our new apartment in Seabrook. I never expected to run into my aunt and her family right at the community gate. They asked me when, after all these years, I was finally going to get over it and go back home to talk things out with Liam Blackwood, the heir to the Blackwood Corporation. Liam was my college sweetheart. We were on the verge of getting engaged four years ago. But on his birthday, everything changed. He smashed the cake I’d made for him in a private karaoke room, right in front of me, and walked out with Pamela, his college roommate’s little sister. I broke up with him on the spot and moved to this small coastal city. Now, seeing me again, my aunt tried to reason with me. “You know, Liam’s never really gotten over you. Even on the day he got engaged to Pamela, he said if you just came back, he’d drop everything and start over with you.” Start over? I smiled, my voice calm. “Aunt Carol, I got married two years ago. My daughter is eighteen months old.” Liam probably thought I was still giving him the silent treatment, completely clueless that I’d already started a new life. 1 I hadn’t told anyone back home that I was married. So when I ran into my aunt in Seabrook, she was completely in the dark. A light snow was falling. I was holding an umbrella, a stuffed animal for my daughter swinging from my other hand as I crossed the small wooden bridge in the park. That’s when I saw them on the other side: my aunt and my cousin, staring at me in utter shock. We hadn’t seen each other in four years, and the first words out of my aunt’s mouth were a reprimand. “Stella! Where have you been all this time? You just disappeared without a word, no contact with your family at all!” I glanced at her, my expression cool, showing none of the joy of a reunion. They, on the other hand, seemed thrilled. My cousin, Mike, chimed in. “Stella, you’re finally back! Liam has been asking about you for years. You have to come home with us!” My aunt quickly agreed. “He’s right! Stella, you have no idea. Liam has taken over the family business now. He’s the most sought-after bachelor in our circle.” “If you get back together with him, you’ll be the envy of everyone, a wealthy socialite! And our family would get to share in the glory, wouldn’t we?” Her eyes danced with excitement, and Mike looked like he’d just won the lottery. Funny how they never gave a damn about me before. After my parents passed away, they cut off all contact. Now that they saw a potential benefit, they were all over me. I almost laughed, shattering their daydream. “Aunt Carol, Mike… Liam and I are ancient history.” The name, unspoken for so long, felt foreign on my tongue. I said it as casually as if I were discussing the weather, as if he were a complete stranger. My aunt and cousin fell silent, looking at me with strange, assessing eyes. Clearly, they didn’t believe me. After all, the whole school had known how crazy I was about Liam. They used to whisper about the Hayes girl, the one with no parents to control her, wild and untamed. 2 In high school, Liam Blackwood and I were inseparable. I was an extrovert, never caring about the gossip that swirled around us. We made it official our freshman year of college, and I truly believed we would go the distance. So, I was always attached to his hip. I’d drag him to concerts and make him study with me for finals. From the time we met at sixteen until we were twenty, we were a single unit. If things had gone according to plan, we would have been officially engaged at twenty-four. But that year, during winter break, his college roommate’s sister, Pamela, came to stay. She was the quiet, demure type who spoke in whispers—everyone’s idea of a perfect girl. Next to her, I was a whirlwind of chaos. “A girl with no parental guidance, what do you expect? She’s nothing compared to a sweet, refined girl like Pamela.” The whispers reached my ears, stinging me with shame and anger. I needed to ask Liam if he felt the same way, if he thought I wasn’t good enough. But when I got to the barbecue restaurant where we were supposed to meet, Pamela was there too. She smiled gently. “Stella, I didn’t have anything to do over the break, so Liam brought me along. You don’t mind, do you?” Normally, I wouldn’t have. But it was his birthday. He had promised we’d celebrate together. Instead, he took the birthday gift I’d brought—a scarf I had knitted myself—and casually tossed it to Pamela. I stared at the scarf in her hands, my mind flashing to the sleepless nights I’d spent making it. Something inside me snapped. “Liam, what is going on?” The restaurant was loud, filled with the smoky haze of the grills. My sudden outburst caught him off guard. He frowned, glanced at Pamela, and then pulled me outside. “She’s bored during the break, so I’m showing her around. What’s the big deal?” he muttered. I didn’t even know what the big deal was. Maybe it was hearing everyone praise Pamela while putting me down. Or maybe it was just the scarf. I grabbed the front of his jacket, my voice tight. “Then why did you give her the scarf I made for you?” He flinched, a flicker of panic in his eyes. “She was cold. I just let her borrow it to warm up.” “Warm up?” I scoffed. “Why didn’t you just buy her a new one?” “It’s a gift from you,” he said. “It’s not like I was giving it to her for good.” His words managed to quell my anger, but a bitter feeling remained. “So you think I’m not good enough, too?” “Think what?” “That I’m not quiet and well-behaved enough!” He hesitated. “You can be a little much sometimes.” My eyes widened in anger, and I slapped his arm. It wasn’t hard, and he didn’t even flinch, but Pamela gasped, her eyes immediately welling up. She rushed over and clung to his arm, her voice trembling. “Liam, are you okay? It’s all my fault, I made Stella upset… Blame me, don’t be mad at him…” She stood between us, sobbing, drawing the attention of other customers. I gritted my teeth, about to tell her to stop, but her crying only grew louder. Defeated, Liam asked a waiter to take her to the lounge area. But Pamela clung to his arm, refusing to let go. He looked at her tear-streaked face, then back at me, his expression weary. “Stella, let’s just call it a night. Pamela’s just back in the country, she’s a bit emotional. I need to get her settled.” And just like that, the birthday celebration I had planned so carefully was over before I’d even had a single bite. 3 After that, Liam’s free time was no longer mine. Pamela was by his side more and more often. If I wanted to see him alone, I had to be careful, as if we were having some kind of secret affair. One afternoon at a cafe, my frustration boiled over. “Don’t you feel like we’re sneaking around?” Liam, who had just taken a sip of his bubble tea, nearly choked. A blush crept up his neck. “What are you talking about…” “I’m not talking nonsense,” I said, my voice serious. “According to our plan, you were supposed to propose last year. Now I have to arrange secret meetings just to see you.” He knew it was a problem. He reached out, patting my head and pulling me into a hug. “Alright, you’re right. I’ll talk to my family about us. Once it’s official, you won’t have to worry about Pamela anymore.” He smiled and handed me a silver bracelet to make up for his ruined birthday. I wore it every day after that, waiting for the day we would finally walk down the aisle. That day never came. 4 In early September, my childhood neighbor, who was like an older sister to me, passed away from an illness. My aunt and I weren’t close, so during holidays when the house felt empty, she was the only one who would visit. Her death hit me hard. After the funeral, I was alone in my empty apartment, feeling a profound sense of loneliness. I desperately needed to see Liam. I rushed over to his apartment complex. And I saw him. He was holding Pamela, who was wrapped in nothing but a towel, her hair still wet. He was patting her back gently, whispering words of comfort. “It’s okay, Pamela, you’re safe…” His eyes were filled with a tenderness I hadn’t seen in a long time, a tenderness that felt like a knife in my heart. I stood there, frozen, my eyes falling to the floor where a smashed cake lay in ruins. The birthday cake I had made for him the night before was now a tragic, unrecognizable mess. A storm of anger and sorrow churned inside me. I walked over, intending to salvage what was left of the cake. It was only then that Liam noticed me. He let go of Pamela. “Stella, what are you doing here?” I ignored him, focusing on the ruined cake. He grabbed my arm. “The cake fell by accident. Pamela almost slipped. This one’s ruined, how about I buy you a new one?” I kept my head down and shook his hand off. Without a word, I turned and ran. He caught up with me at the gate, blocking my path. He studied my face. “Stella, what is wrong with you?” I stared at him, the hurt I’d been suppressing finally erupting. I could ignore what other people thought, but not him. Every look, every gesture from him could send my world spinning. Yet here he was, acting as if nothing was wrong. Fighting back tears, I looked into his panicked eyes. “Liam, do you even care about me?” He froze, his gaze shifting away as a faint blush colored his ears. “Why are you asking that…” “Do you care about me?” I repeated, clutching his sleeve, desperate for an answer. He pulled his arm free. “People are watching, Stella. Let’s talk about this at home.” “No!” His evasion made me snap. Why could he hold Pamela so tenderly but couldn’t offer me a single word of comfort? My heart ached with a bitter jealousy. I lunged, trying to throw my arms around him. But he caught my shoulders, his voice firm. “Not in public, Stella. Don’t be like this. I…” Before he could finish, Pamela’s voice cut in. “Liam!” She had changed and now ran up to us, linking her arm through his possessively. The sight was a dagger to my heart. A cold, bitter laugh escaped me. “You’re right. We should be careful. Not like your ‘sister’ here, who has no problem cuddling up to you in a towel. I guess she’s not worried about what people will say…” “Stella!” Liam’s voice was sharp with shock and anger. A few passersby started whispering. Pamela swayed, tears instantly streaming down her face. He was truly furious now. His face was a dark mask as he gripped my wrist. “Stop it. It was just a cake, I’ll replace it. Leave Pamela out of this.” His tone was a warning, his grip painful. But the pain in my heart was worse. Seeing him protect her, I forced a smile. “Am I talking nonsense, or did I hit a nerve? I saw you with my own two eyes. She—” CRACK! A sharp sound cut me off. Liam’s voice was ice. “Stella. That’s enough.” 5 I froze. The stinging on my cheek was so sharp it took a moment to register. The tears, however, came instantly, hot and uncontrollable. In all the years I’d known him, Liam had never laid a finger on me. Even when I got into trouble and he took the blame, he was always the one protecting me. I never imagined he would hit me for someone else. A flicker of triumph crossed Pamela’s face. “Liam…” she whispered, pressing a hand to her chest and leaning against him weakly. He caught her, and without another glance at me, turned and walked away. I watched their figures recede until they were just a blur through my tears. In the distance, I thought I heard him let out a soft, weary sigh. From that day on, the rumors flew. Everyone said Liam had dumped me, that I was officially out of the picture. The Blackwood Corporation never mentioned the engagement again. My heart felt like a dead weight in my chest. I found the photo of us from high school on my phone and deleted it. I sent him one last text telling him we were over for good. Then, I packed my bags and left my hometown, moving to the small coastal city of Seabrook. I didn’t go back for years. Until today, when I ran into my aunt, and all the old memories came rushing back. But now, my heart was a placid lake, no ripples of anger or sadness left. My aunt studied my calm expression for a moment. “Stella, dear, are you still mad at Liam? I heard about what happened. You were both young and impulsive. It’s time to let it go, don’t you think?” I gave a faint smile. “It’s long in the past.” The same year I left, Liam and Pamela got engaged. And me? I now had a husband and a daughter. We had no connection anymore. Seeing my nonchalance, my aunt said, “Well, it’s good that you’ve moved on.” “But you know,” she added, “Liam still has a place for you in his heart. He said it himself on his engagement day. If you ever went back to him, he would take you back in a heartbeat.” 6 Take me back? A sarcastic smile tugged at my lips. “Aunt Carol, you didn’t know? I got married two years ago. My daughter is eighteen months old.” “What?” My cousin’s eyes went wide with disbelief. My aunt looked as if she’d been struck by lightning. “But… you were always so in love with Liam, how could you…” The news was so sudden it left them speechless. I took the opportunity. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to Sunny.” Sunny was my daughter. When I got back, she was playing in the sandbox in the community garden. Seeing my aunt and cousin, she tilted her head. “Are they here to see Daddy?” “No, sweetie,” I shook my head. “Sunny, this is your great-aunt and your cousin Mike.” “Hello, Great-Aunt. Hello, Cousin Mike,” Sunny chirped. My aunt was still stunned. “This… this is really your daughter?” They didn’t seem to fully believe it until they saw her with their own eyes. I smiled and stroked my daughter’s hair, then went inside. From the back of a drawer, I pulled out a small box and handed it to my cousin. “Could you please give this back to Liam for me?” “For Liam?” Mike asked, curious. “What’s inside?” “Just some old things,” I said calmly. When I’d left home, I had deleted our photos in a fit of anger, but I couldn’t bring myself to throw away the little trinkets he had given me. Inside the box was the matching keychain set we’d bought in high school. He’d given it to me on his eighteenth birthday to mark our first year together. Years had passed. He had his life, and I had mine. It was time to give it back. My expression remained placid. Mike didn’t press further. “So, should I tell Liam you’re married?” I paused. “Do what you want.” Seeing the contents of the box, Liam would understand. We were done. My aunt sighed, her face full of regret, as if watching a perfect match slip away. “Stella, are you sure you can let him go?” After all those years, could I really just let it all go? I nodded. “I have no regrets.” Maybe it started as a way to spite him, but my marriage… that was a choice I made with my whole heart. 7 My aunt and cousin left with the box, and I didn’t hear anything for a couple of weeks. Then, Mike sent me a message. He’d given the box to Liam at his birthday party. He said when Liam opened it and saw what was inside, he just froze, his eyes turning red. He’d asked where I was. Mike told him the truth: I was married. A simple sentence that apparently made the great Liam Blackwood stumble back, pale as a ghost, clutching his chest as a cough wracked his body. I never expected him to have such a strong reaction. And I certainly never expected him to come to Seabrook. On a day of heavy snowfall, a tall, familiar figure stood at the entrance to our community, looking utterly alone. Sunny pushed open the lobby door. “Mommy, someone’s here for you!” “Who is it?” I walked out, my eyes inadvertently meeting a pair I knew all too well. Liam was holding an umbrella, his head bowed toward Sunny. When he looked up and saw me, he went rigid. Time seemed to melt away. He was more mature, more handsome than the boy I remembered, but his eyes were the same—as clear as a sky after rain. His lips moved. “It’s been a long time, Stella.” I frowned, knowing I couldn’t avoid this. “Mr. Blackwood,” I said, my tone formal. A reunion of old lovers. One still using a childhood nickname, the other a distant, formal title. A flicker of hurt crossed Liam’s face. He looked down at Sunny. “Is this… your daughter?” he murmured. Sunny, feeling his intense gaze, shyly hid behind me. I picked her up, pretending not to notice the tremor in his voice. “Yes, she is.” Snowflakes settled on the rim of his umbrella. Liam’s face was as white as the snow on the ground, as if all the life had been drained from him. After a long silence, he asked, “Why?” “There’s no why,” I said flatly. “People get married. They have children. It’s normal.” “Normal…” he repeated, a storm of emotions swirling in his eyes before he managed a bitter smile. Sunny peeked out from my shoulder. “Mister, who are you?” she asked in her small voice. Liam stared at her, and his eyes suddenly reddened. “I’m… an old friend of your mommy’s.” “Old friend?” Sunny tilted her head, confused. “It means someone she knew a long, long time ago,” I explained. “Oh.” She looked from me to Liam, not understanding why this grown-up looked like he was about to cry. “Stella…” Liam started to say something else, but I cut him off. “You should go.” He froze, watching as I turned and carried Sunny back inside. The snow was falling harder, and I had no intention of inviting him in. He just stood there in the storm for a long, long time. Even after the snow stopped, he was still there, his face completely bloodless from the cold. Not wanting to find a frozen body on my doorstep in the morning, I finally opened the door. “What is it you want?” His gaze locked onto mine, his voice laced with bitterness. “Stella, are you still angry with me? For what happened that day?” The mention of the past made me frown. “It’s over.” “But I can’t let it go,” he said, his voice raw. “These past few years, I haven’t been able to forget.” He looked up, and under the umbrella, the eyes that had once made my heart race were still as deep and captivating as ever. But they no longer had any power over me.

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1 I was spending the summer watching my sister-in-law’s kid when she gave me her old, discarded laptop. Before I could even feel a flicker of excitement, I overheard her complaining to my brother. “She’s only helping with the kid because she wants something out of it.” My parents were in the living room with me. We all heard her. But no one said a word in my defense. I looked around at my so-called family and suddenly understood. There was only one outsider in this house. I picked up the laptop, walked to their bedroom door, and pushed it open. “Sarah,” I said, my voice shaking, “I can’t take advantage of you like this. Here’s your laptop back. Just pay me the standard babysitting rate.” The air went still. Sarah just glared at me. My brother, Mark, shot to his feet. “Chloe, is that any way to talk to your sister-in-law?” “How am I talking to her? You’re the ones who think I’m taking advantage of you. So I’m giving it back. Or would you rather just have a free nanny?” It was the first time I had ever talked back. My hands, clutching the laptop, were trembling. “You ungrateful brat,” my mother chimed in. “Free nanny? Do you not eat our food? Do you not sleep under our roof? You think you’re some kind of princess who doesn’t have to lift a finger?” Free room and board? Since the summer started, I hadn’t had a single day off. My nephew was three, a tornado of energy that required 24/7 supervision. As soon as Mark and Sarah got home from work, my mom would send me to help out at their barbecue joint. We’d get home around midnight, and then I’d have to put my nephew to bed. There were only three bedrooms in the house. My parents had one, Mark and Sarah had another, and the last was the nursery. So every school break, I slept in there with the kid. He was a restless sleeper, and I ended up curled on a thin mat on the window seat. He was the golden grandchild, spoiled rotten. A few days ago, he’d screamed at me, “This is my room! This is my house! Get out!” all because I was trying to get him to do some preschool prep work. They all heard him. Sarah just gently chided him, “Your auntie will get married and move out soon. Then you’ll miss her.” My parents just said he was a kid, that I shouldn’t take it seriously. But how could I not? I was the outsider here, a second-class citizen. This house was never meant for me. 2 My brother is eight years older than me. My parents always said having a son and a daughter was the perfect combination. Relatives would coo about how lucky I was to have a big brother. I don’t remember him ever being kind to me. From my earliest memories, he was always stern, always scowling. My parents just said he wasn’t good at expressing his feelings. He didn’t go to college. After drifting for a few years, he came back home. My parents drained their life savings and took out a massive loan to buy him a house in the city, a prerequisite for any decent marriage proposal. Then they went into debt again for Sarah’s dowry. They only just finished paying it all off last year. All the family’s resources were poured into him. When it was my turn to go to college, there was nothing left. The summer after I graduated high school, the atmosphere in the house was tense. I heard Sarah screaming at Mark that she never would have married him if she knew I was going to be such a “burden.” No one corrected her. I just tried to make myself invisible. That was the summer my nephew was born. My parents were busy with their own small business, and Mark had to work, so I became Sarah’s full-time postpartum nurse. I cooked, I cleaned, I took care of the baby. I did everything she asked. Maybe I did too good a job. A week before I was supposed to leave for college, Mark made a grand announcement at dinner. “My little sister worked hard to get into a good school. I’ll pay for her tuition. But you’ll have to work for your own spending money, Chloe. You know how tight things are.” I wanted to scream. The money’s tight because you spent it all on your house and your wife! But I knew if I said anything, they would all turn on me. So I stayed silent. And in my silence, my status in the family solidified. “Chloe, you have to remember what your brother has done for you,” my parents would say, over and over again. “He’s sacrificing so much to send you to school. You have to be grateful.” Sarah would just slam her chopsticks down and glare at me. I felt like I was on trial, expected to swear an oath of eternal gratitude, to declare that my brother was my savior. 3 I worked my way through college. Mark sent me a thousand dollars a month for the first two months, and then Sarah started sending me links to articles: “Best Part-Time Jobs for College Students,” “How to Apply for Financial Aid.” She’d even send me links to stories about grateful younger siblings who had paid their older siblings back tenfold. “Look how close these two are!” she’d text. “I just want you and Mark to have a good relationship.” The pressure was suffocating. I was constantly worried about money. When I came home for winter break, she would hint that I should buy toys and clothes for her son. And when I did, she’d say, “Oh, you silly girl, I was just kidding!” Then she’d brag to everyone, “Look how successful Chloe is, already buying gifts for her nephew.” My mom would just add, “Well, her brother paid for her education. It’s the least she can do.” They seemed to think college was a four-year vacation where money just magically appeared. I started to dread coming home. I could be earning money instead of being a servant. But when I told my mom I’d found a summer job, she laid a guilt trip on me. “How can you be so selfish? Your brother is paying for your tuition, and you can’t even come home to help out for a few weeks?” I caved. The first summer, it was because Mark and Sarah were threatening to divorce and someone had to watch the kid. The next, it was because they’d opened the barbecue joint and were short-staffed. And when I hesitated, my mom “accidentally” slipped and hurt her back, and I had to rush home to take care of her. “If you’d come home earlier, this wouldn’t have happened,” she’d grumbled. And now, after a month of non-stop work, my reward was a seven-year-old, hand-me-down laptop. And I was the one who was “taking advantage.” I hadn’t had my own computer since high school. For group projects, I had to beg to borrow my classmates’. I had a dozen laptops saved in my Amazon cart, but I could never bring myself to spend the money. And this is what I got for my sacrifice. Being called a freeloader. 4 My mother was still ranting. “You live here for free! You eat our food! Is it too much to ask for you to help out a little?” I clutched the old laptop, tears welling in my eyes. “Did I ask to come back? I found a job! You’re the one who begged me to come home! I’m damned if I do, damned if I don’t. What did I do to deserve this?” “You think you’re being taken advantage of?” my mom screamed. “Was it a crime to give birth to you? Was it a crime for your brother to help you? Who in this family owes you anything? If you don’t like it, you can get out!” “Did I ask you to give birth to me?!” I shrieked, smashing the laptop on the floor. “You’re the ones who are guilty! Just kill me and get it over with!” My mom slapped me across the face. “After all I’ve done for you, this is how you speak to me?” Sarah kicked over a chair and stormed out. “I can’t believe I married into this family. We pay for her school, and this is the thanks we get.” Mark ran after her, holding their son. My dad finally spoke. “Are you happy now? Is this what you wanted? Your brother is helping you, and you’re still not satisfied? You’re tearing this family apart.” I went to my room to pack. I didn’t even have a suitcase. The one they’d bought me for high school had broken years ago. I stuffed a few clothes into a backpack. My dad threw a glass against the wall. “Do you ever think about anyone but yourself? Do you have any idea the pressure your brother is under? Don’t you have any gratitude?” Gratitude. That word again. I was so sick of it. I turned to face him. “Why did he have to pay for my tuition? Do I not have parents? Where did all your money go?” “Are you blaming us now?” he roared. “We did the best we could! How was your brother supposed to get married if we didn’t buy him a house?” “I’m sorry,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m sorry your son was too stupid to get into college. I’m sorry I was born and cost you money. I’m sorry I dared to live in your house. I’m sorry I dared to get an education. Why don’t you just kill me now? It would be easier for everyone.” He raised his hand to hit me, but I dodged. And in that moment, I finally saw them clearly. They weren’t my parents. They were his parents. They were his followers, and he was their god. And they expected me to be the sacrifice. I walked out the door, their curses following me. “Let her go! She’ll come crawling back when tuition is due!” I turned back one last time. “You’re right! It’s your bad luck that you had me! But that’s just business, isn’t it? Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. You should have had more sons to sacrifice!”

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I traveled back two years, pregnant with the child of my past life. In the penthouse suite, Hailey, the university’s charity case, was on her knees, nibbling on the buckle of Liam Sterling’s belt. As if she didn’t see me, she stuck her tongue out playfully. “Uh oh, Liam. I think I left a mark.” I pretended I didn’t hear a thing. I walked straight for Liam’s identical twin brother. One of our friends called out, “Chloe, hey, Liam’s over there.” Liam’s expression soured. “Chloe, come here.” I didn’t break my stride. I stopped directly in front of Julian Sterling. The man, who’d been lounging with a lazy sort of grace, suddenly looked up. His eyebrows arched, a playful glint in his eyes that hinted at the devil hiding beneath his polished, Ivy League exterior. “Looking for me?” he purred. I nodded, handing him a folded piece of paper from my clutch. An ultrasound report. “I’m pregnant with your child,” I stated, my voice even. “Do you want to raise it with me?” Julian: “?” The air in the room evaporated. Every breath was held hostage. Liam smashed his whiskey glass on the marble floor and shot to his feet. “Chloe,” he seethed, “say that again. *Whose* baby is it?” 1. The silence was so absolute you could hear a heart break. Everyone in our circle knew Liam and I were a package deal. The golden couple of the Sterling empire. What they didn’t know was that two hours ago, I was done with him. Forever. Julian’s long, pale fingers took the report from my hand. He studied it carefully before his eyes lifted to meet mine. They were a stunning, complicated mix of light and shadow. A single, questioning syllable escaped his throat. “Hm?” “It’s yours,” I said. “Are you going to take responsibility?” I leaned in a little. “Or should we discuss this somewhere more private?” I held his gaze, my expression dead serious. He stared back, trying to decipher if this was some elaborate, cruel joke. That’s when someone in the room finally spoke, their voice strained. “Chloe… you’re kidding, right?” A chorus followed. “Yeah, this isn’t funny. Not at all.” “We were just playing a game. Hailey just bit his belt for a dare. We were all watching. Liam didn’t even touch her.” “Chloe, you can’t be doing this just to scare him, can you? You know he can’t take a joke like that.” “We all know how crazy Liam is about you. You can’t mess with him like this.” “Hailey, say something! Help him out here.” The aforementioned Hailey, the arts department’s “sweetheart,” stood beside Liam, looking fragile and small. “But… the look on Chloe’s face,” she whispered. “She doesn’t look like she’s joking.” Her one sentence plunged the room back into an icy silence. Liam stalked toward me, his brow furrowed in a thunderous line. He snatched the ultrasound from Julian’s hand. After reading it, he let out a laugh that was pure, strangled fury. “Chloe, is this because I’m sponsoring Hailey’s tuition?” he asked, his voice dripping with disbelief. “Just because I felt sorry for her, you’re going to pull this insane stunt with my own brother?” A stunt? Oh, I was just getting started. 2. I have a condition. I need the energy of love to survive. If no one in the world loves me, I die. Instantly. In my last life, after my grandfather passed, I thought Liam’s love was what was keeping me alive. That’s why I never really worried about Hailey. Hailey was the scholarship kid who posted a tear-jerking story on a crowdfunding site, begging for a “sponsor.” *【I’m about to drop out and give up on my dreams. Is there anyone out there willing to sponsor a poor college girl?】* *【I’m just not smart enough to make it on my own, I need a big brother or a father figure to help guide me.】* *【Note: This is for sponsorship, not a sugar daddy arrangement! Please be respectful.】* She included a doe-eyed selfie. Someone from campus recognized her and posted the link to the university’s gossip forum. She became infamous overnight. Guys sent her vile messages; girls called her out for being manipulative. Liam found her crying in a corner of the library one day, overwhelmed by the backlash. He felt sorry for her, helped her, and took on her “sponsorship.” After that, she became his shadow, a little puppy trailing at his heels. At first, I told him I wasn’t comfortable with it. He accused me of being cold-hearted, and we didn’t speak for a week. Then, Hailey started trying to win me over. She was sweet, respectful, and played the sympathy card perfectly. Being a girl myself, my heart softened. I figured, what’s the harm? It’s a sponsorship, not an affair. As long as Liam loved me, it would be fine. I never once doubted his love for me. Not even at the very end. But I died right after Julian did. 3. In my last life, someone slipped something into my drink at a party. I stumbled into the wrong bedroom and spent a chaotic, hazy night with a drunk Julian. When I woke up, the shock was immense. I couldn’t face anyone, so I fled to our family’s estate in the Hamptons for a month. During that time, Hailey was in a minor car accident, and Liam was by her side constantly, playing the hero. Julian, however, followed me to the Hamptons. He asked me a question that had been haunting him for years. He asked why, when they had both been in love with me since we were kids, I had chosen Liam over him. Liam and Julian were identical, except for their eyes. That one difference defined them. Liam has classic, earnest almond-shaped eyes that make him look both intense and trustworthy. Julian has stunning, upturned eyes—the kind that could look at a garbage can and make it feel like the most cherished thing in the world. Liam’s personality was reserved, self-possessed. Girls adored him from afar, but he kept a respectable distance from everyone. Julian was wild, a charmer who knew exactly what to say. There was always some beautiful girl claiming to be his girlfriend. So, I told him the truth. I told him I thought he’d had too many girlfriends, while I’d never even had a serious boyfriend. I told him I thought he was a player, that his feelings were fleeting. I told him I thought he was… dirty. And that being with him felt like I was losing something precious. The color drained from his face when he heard that. Something in his eyes seemed to shatter. He tried desperately to explain, but I didn’t want to hear it. I cut him off, telling him to pretend that night never happened and to never, ever tell a soul. A month later, I found out I was pregnant. The day I returned from the Hamptons, I walked in on Liam and Hailey locked in a passionate, desperate kiss. I stumbled back out of the house, my world spinning. I didn’t see the car that had lost control and was careening toward me on the rain-slicked road. In that last second, Julian shoved me out of the way. His final words to me were, “As long as you’re okay…” 4. Two hours ago, I woke up in this timeline, pregnant and all. This was right after Liam had started “sponsoring” Hailey, during the week he was giving me the silent treatment for questioning it. After Julian died in my previous life, my internal “love meter” instantly dropped to zero. It was only in that moment of absolute emptiness that I realized Liam hadn’t loved me for a very long time. His affection was a hollow echo. In my past life, I never went to this party. I never saw this boundary-less moment between him and Hailey. Thinking back now, he was probably already cheating on me then, emotionally if not physically. I looked at the furious Liam and the timid Hailey beside him, and a wave of nausea washed over me. “Liam, you’re dirty now,” I said, my voice flat. “I don’t want you anymore.” “What did you say?” His eyes were rimmed with red, his voice a low, dangerous growl, each word coated in ice. “You think I’m… *dirty*?” “Yes. You’re filthy.” I nodded, my gaze dropping to the still-unbuckled belt hanging loosely on his hips. The teeth marks were visible on the fine Italian leather, the surface dark with moisture. Disgusting. “You promised me no one else would ever touch that belt but me,” I said. “You said a man’s promises were his last line of defense. Now you’ve let someone else lick it. You’re tainted.” Liam’s pupils constricted. His face went white. “No, it wasn’t… I…” Just then, Julian spoke, his tone casual and utterly cutting. “Wasn’t what? You looked like you were enjoying yourself a minute ago.” Liam choked on his words, humiliated. I had no desire to stay a second longer. I grabbed Julian’s arm. “Ignore him. Let’s go talk somewhere else.” 5. I lied to Julian. I told him I was from two years in the future. In that future, I told him, Liam had died in a tragic accident. After his death, Julian had finally made his feelings for me clear, and I had become his fiancée. We got together, I got pregnant, and then I was somehow thrown back in time to this exact moment. Julian listened, his eyes downcast, his expression unreadable. He didn’t speak. He just pulled a silver case from his pocket and placed a cigarette between his lips. Just as he was about to light it, I stopped him in a low voice. “Smoking is bad for the baby.” “…” He paused. “So, you don’t believe me?” I asked. He put the lighter away, the unlit cigarette still pinched between his elegant fingers. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I’m more inclined to believe,” he said slowly, “that you saw him playing games with another girl and this is your dramatic, albeit brilliant, way of punishing him.” My hand tightened on my purse chain. He didn’t believe me. “Then come with me.” I grabbed his wrist and dragged him back into the suite. The atmosphere was still thick with tension. Liam was slumped on a velvet couch, his face dark, staring blankly at the ultrasound report in his hands. I snatched it from him and pointed to the age field on the report. “Look. It says my age is 22. You both know I’m only 20 this year.” “And if you still don’t believe me,” I continued, “we can go to a clinic and get a paternity test—” “Chloe!” Liam roared, cutting me off. “The baby is mine. I will not let you pretend he’s the father.” Julian looked down at me, a thoughtful, almost dangerous glint in his eyes. “We’re identical twins,” he said softly. “Our DNA is the same. A paternity test would show that we are both the biological father.” I faltered. I honestly hadn’t considered that. Then, a slow, cold smile spread across my face. “Fine. If neither of you believes me, then I’ll just raise the baby myself. No father necessary.” With that, I turned on my heel and walked out.

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The night of our engagement party, my fiancée, Julie, was dragged into the women’s restroom and raped. I heard everything from the men’s room next door. Julie’s sobs were a symphony of despair, her cries for help sharp enough to pierce my eardrums. When I finally walked out, I saw him. The man who did it, calmly zipping up his pants and walking away with a look of sickening satisfaction on his face. After that night, something in Julie broke. Her mind fractured, and she was lost in a world of nonsensical whispers. Half a month later, the doctors gave up. There was no improvement, no effective treatment. And I told Julie’s family I was calling off the engagement. In the hospital room, her brother’s fist connected with my jaw. Leo’s eyes were wild, blazing with a murderous light as he grabbed me by the collar. “You animal. Are you even human? My sister was raped, she’s broken, and you… you’re not out there hunting down the bastard who did this to her. You’re running away. You’re abandoning her. What kind of a man are you?” … His shouts were deafening, spittle flying onto my face. I didn’t say a word in my defense. I just stood there, as if I accepted every accusation. “My daughter has been a kind, gentle soul her whole life,” Julie’s mother, Mrs. Miller, sobbed, her words choked with tears. “Out of all the men in the world, she chose you. How could you let her suffer like this?” Her gaze flickered to her daughter, lying vacant and still on the hospital bed, and the grief in her eyes ignited into pure rage. She strode forward and slapped me hard across the face, twice. CRACK. CRACK. “Ethan,” she hissed, “if you have any shred of a man left in you, you will find the monster who did this to our Julie.” Looking at her tear-streaked face, I just slowly shook my head. “I’m calling off the engagement.” In an instant, Leo’s hands were around my neck, squeezing. “You piece of shit! You think you can just throw my sister away?” Mrs. Miller pointed a trembling finger at me. “Julie always said she was the luckiest girl in the world. She said she’d found a man who loved her as much as her family did. Is this your love?” I glanced at Julie on the bed, my expression a cold, indifferent mask. “Ma’am, what happened to Julie is a tragedy, and my heart breaks for her. But it happened. We have to accept reality.” “What reality is that?” Leo’s grip tightened. “The reality that you think she’s dirty now? Is that why you’re leaving her? Is that it?” he roared, his voice like thunder. His eyes burned with a hatred so intense, it felt like he wanted to devour me whole. Mrs. Miller stared at me, her body rigid. When I gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod, something inside her snapped. She lunged at me, clawing and scratching like a wild animal. I instinctively tried to pull back, but Leo’s hands were still locked around my throat. I couldn’t move. Her nails raked across my face, leaving searing trails of pain. But the agony on my skin was nothing compared to the crushing weight in my chest. She didn’t stop until my face was a bloody mess. A nurse rushed in, her eyes wide with alarm. “Sir, should I call security? Should I call the police?” Leo sneered, “Yeah, you animal. You gonna call the cops on us?” I looked at the nurse and weakly shook my head. “But you’re bleeding so much…” “Get the hell out of here!” Leo bellowed. The nurse scurried away. Just then, the door opened again. Mr. Miller walked in, his face a thundercloud. “Dad, this son of a bitch is calling off the engagement with Julie!” Leo immediately tattled. “He thinks she’s tainted goods, so he’s dumping her!” Without a word, Mr. Miller grabbed a wooden chair, lifted it high, and brought it down across my back with ferocious force. The impact sent me crashing to the floor, my entire body convulsing in pain. “AH!” A terrified scream came from the bed. It was Julie. “Honey, it’s okay, don’t be scared,” Mrs. Miller rushed to her side, holding her tight. “Mom… w-why is he here?” Julie pointed at me, her eyes filled with panic and terror. Her mother misunderstood. “Your father is teaching this scum a lesson for what he’s doing to you, darling!” Mr. Miller lifted the chair again, ready to strike. I was in too much pain to even lift my head, completely powerless to defend myself. “Don’t…” Julie cried out, her voice sharp. But the chair was already falling. CRASH! The solid wood shattered on impact. I felt a warm, metallic taste fill my mouth as I coughed up blood. “Dad, don’t hit my fiancé!” Julie screamed, her eyes red with tears. “He is not your fiancé!” Mr. Miller spat, his voice cold as ice. He walked over, squatted down, and grabbed my collar, his gaze a bottomless abyss. “Do you know why I’m hitting you?” I couldn’t speak. The pain was making me tremble uncontrollably. “It’s not because you’re calling off the engagement. And it’s not because you’re abandoning my daughter. It’s because… you’re not human.” He paused, letting the words hang in the air. “I did some checking,” he continued, his voice low and menacing. “On the night of the party. When Julie was being attacked… you were in the men’s room. The hotel janitor saw you.” His words landed like stones. “In other words, you almost certainly saw the man who raped Julie.” “Is… is that true?” Mrs. Miller whispered, rushing to her husband’s side. “He saw him?” “Yes,” Mr. Miller said with absolute certainty. “He had to have seen him.” He turned his chilling gaze back to me. “So why did you tell the police you saw nothing?” Mrs. Miller grabbed a fistful of my hair, her face twisted with fury. “It must have been someone we know,” Mr. Miller theorized, his voice dropping to a cold whisper. “Someone he recognized. Someone he’s too scared to cross. So he kept his mouth shut. To avoid retaliation.” “Is that it?” Mrs. Miller shrieked into my ear. My body was a canvas of agony, and speaking was a monumental effort. But through the pain, I forced the words out. “I… didn’t see… anyone.” “You’re lying!” Mr. Miller’s eyes were glacial. “The janitor said she saw you come out of the restroom. And another man left, going in the opposite direction. You one hundred percent saw the bastard! Why won’t you say who it was?” Before I could answer, Leo hauled me to my feet. Without a single question, he started pounding his fists into my face, again and again. Just as the world was beginning to fade to black, he finally stopped, roaring in my ear. “Tell us, you piece of shit! Who was it?” When I remained silent, his rage exploded. “You won’t talk, huh? Fine!” The next thing I knew, his hands were back on my throat, squeezing with every ounce of his strength. This wasn’t a threat anymore. He was actually trying to kill me. The world began to tunnel, the air disappearing from my lungs. “I want to fly!” At that critical moment, Julie’s strange words cut through the violence. The Millers turned. Their blood ran cold. Somehow, Julie had gotten out of bed and was now perched on the windowsill, her upper body already leaning out into the open air. “Julie!” “Honey!” Their faces went white with terror. They scrambled to pull her back inside. In that moment of distraction, I found my chance. Ignoring the fire in my lungs and the agony in my body, I staggered out of the room and escaped. My parents came to the hospital to see me that afternoon. When they heard that I had likely seen the attacker and refused to identify him, they stared at me with utter disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell the police who it was, Ethan?” my mother asked, her voice trembling. “Why are you letting Julie suffer like this?” my father demanded. “Are you a man?” Seeing the profound disappointment in their eyes, I turned my head away and said nothing. “To have a son like you,” my father said, his voice thick with disgust, “is the greatest shame of my life.” He stood up and walked out. My mother stayed, but the warmth was gone from her eyes. I didn’t try to explain. The next morning, Leo came to see me. He didn’t shout or hit me this time. He was trying a new tactic. “Ethan. You didn’t report us, did you?” I shook my head. He let out a long breath of relief. “Look, we were… emotional yesterday. You have to understand, that’s our family he hurt. We can’t stand to see her in pain. You get that, right?” I nodded. “I get it.” “Good.” He sat on the edge of my bed and lit a cigarette. “You mind?” “Go ahead.” He took a deep drag. “My sister… she was a little lucid last night. She said she called you during the attack. She said you picked up, but you didn’t say anything. Did that happen?” “Yes,” I confirmed. “It did.” “Then why didn’t you tell the police?” “I forgot.” Leo’s brow furrowed. “Did you hear her crying for help on the phone?” “I did.” “Then why didn’t you go help her?” “I’d been drinking. I thought it was some kind of joke.” “You bastard!” Veins bulged on Leo’s forehead. He glared at me, his knuckles white. “If you had just believed her, maybe this never would have happened! You’re the one who let this happen to her!” “I know. I failed her.” “Since you know you failed her, I suggest you drop this talk about calling off the engagement. And when you’re healed up, you’re going to go and apologize to my parents.” “I’ll think about it.” “What is there to think about?!” He looked ready to lunge at me again, but my phone rang. I answered it. “Can you recover the call recording?” I asked. A voice on the other end replied, “It’ll be difficult, but… I think so.” “I’ll wait for your call.” I hung up. “What call recording?” Leo asked, his eyes narrowed. “The night Julie called me for help,” I explained. “I vaguely remember hearing a man’s voice. It sounded familiar. It’s a shame I was so drunk, and I didn’t have call recording active. But if I can get a recording of that call… if I can hear that man’s voice again, I think I can identify him.” Hearing this, Leo’s entire demeanor shifted. He leaned in, his voice tight. “Can you… can you really recover it?” I looked him straight in the eye and nodded. “My friend just told me he thinks he can.” “That’s… that’s great,” Leo stammered, grabbing my arm, his excitement palpable. “That’s fantastic!” He looked around conspiratorially. “Ethan, you can’t tell anyone about this.” “Why not?” “Think about it! The guy who did this was at your engagement party. It has to be someone we know. If word gets out about this recording, he might come after you. Keep it quiet. Once we know who it is, we’ll hand him over to the police and get justice for Julie.” I pretended to hesitate, then nodded. “Okay. My friend said it might take a day or two.” “That’s fine. We can wait. Call me the second you have it.” “I will.” As I watched Leo hurry out of the room, my expression hardened into ice. There was no damn call recording. It was just bait. And it looked like the fish was starting to bite. My theory was likely correct. But I still needed to prove it.

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I’ve always done whatever my brother Leo says. So when the new scholarship kid stole his spotlight, and Leo told me to put him in his place, I gave him my best loyal-puppy nod. The new kid, Ethan, looked like he was starving, so I deliberately shoved a tray loaded with greasy food in front of him, forcing him. “Eat it.” Ethan was always cold, so in the dead of winter, I’d make him warm my hands, just to feel him shiver. I even cornered him in the library, and knowing he was a total neat freak, I threw my arms around his waist and buried my face in his chest. “How’s that?” I whispered maliciously. “Feeling sick to your stomach yet?” That’s when a series of glitched-out captions flashed in front of my eyes. 【Dumbass side character, you’re picking on the wrong guy! That’s the real heir to the Harrison fortune, your future adoptive brother.】 【But don’t worry. With your pathetic little schemes, you’ve already got him hooked, line, and sinker.】 A second later, Ethan slowly turned his head, his face bright red. “Thank you,” he stammered. “I… I really like it.” Leo and I were both from the system. When the Harrisons came to the group home to pick a kid, they chose Leo in a heartbeat. Everyone was jealous. He’d hit the jackpot, on his way to the good life. But Leo just clung to the doorframe and refused to let go. He wailed that I was his best friend and he wouldn’t leave without me. His crying was so loud it turned the director’s face a pale shade of green. The director hesitated. “Perhaps I could show you some of the other children?” But the Harrisons said they admired Leo’s loyalty. So, just like that, they took us both. Overnight, our lives were flipped upside down. We went from being two nobodies in a group home to the prince and princess of New York’s elite. We were a big deal wherever we went. Of course, Leo was the real star. He was handsome, a straight-A student, and the star quarterback. The undisputed king of Northwood Preparatory Academy. But when Ethan Cole showed up on a scholarship, Leo’s throne started to wobble. At the Homecoming King election, Leo lost to Ethan by a single vote. To make it worse, the girl Leo had a massive crush on, Maya, had cast that deciding vote for Ethan. That day, Leo came to me, looking like his world had ended. He said Ethan was making his life miserable. Ever since we were little, I knew my cushy life was all thanks to Leo refusing to leave me behind. So, I snapped into loyal-sister mode. “Leo, just tell me. What do you need me to do?” He wanted me to teach Ethan a lesson, make him back off so he’d stop trying to steal my future sister-in-law. I agreed instantly. Messing with us was the biggest mistake he’d ever make. The Harrisons had raised me to be bold and fearless. Ruining someone’s day? I was an expert. I watched Ethan for a whole week. He wore the same faded, washed-out hoodie every day, and he was so thin he looked like a strong gust of wind could snap him in two. I’d heard rumors he had some kind of eating disorder. So, during lunch, I grabbed my tray and slammed it down on the table right across from him. His lunch was a cup of watery soup and a few sad-looking lettuce leaves. Pathetic. I swiped his container off the table and pushed mine forward. It was loaded with a double bacon cheeseburger, a mountain of chili cheese fries, and a thick chocolate milkshake. A full-on calorie bomb I’d picked out just for him. Ethan just stared at me, completely baffled. I slapped the table, jutted out my chin, and looked down my nose at him. “Eat it.” This stuff was the complete opposite of his rabbit food. He had to be disgusted. Sure enough, he just sat there, holding his fork, not moving. I glared. “You’re going to eat every last bite of what’s in front of you. You hear me?” I leaned in, my voice dropping to a growl. “If you don’t, I’ll get creative.” Ethan looked at me, and then he finally moved. He cautiously picked up the burger and took a tiny bite. He chewed so slowly, like he was trying to make one bite last an hour. A whole tray of this stuff would take him forever. Leo was supposed to meet me on the bleachers later. I didn’t have time for this. I grabbed the spoon, scooped up a huge glob of chili cheese fries, and shoved it towards his mouth. “Open up. Let’s go.” I’m stronger than I look. I just kept pushing the spoon towards him until he had no choice but to open his mouth and eat everything I fed him. All while he kept stealing glances at me. He had to be cursing my name in his head. As I was silently congratulating myself, those weird captions flashed in front of my eyes again. 【Is this how you bully someone? Seriously?】 【Ethan doesn’t have an eating disorder, you idiot. He’s broke. He can’t afford to buy decent food, that’s why he eats like that.】 【If it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t even have a chance to eat a burger.】 I froze. I looked at Ethan, who was now methodically working his way through the fries, looking almost… happy. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I remembered my first year in the group home. We got two wilted pieces of spinach for dinner, and meat was a once-a-month holiday miracle. Kids would get into fistfights over a single piece of chicken. Suddenly, I felt a pang of pity for Ethan. But I squashed that ridiculous thought immediately. He made my brother miserable. He deserved whatever was coming to him. “Ethan!” I yelled, slapping the table again. He looked up, a fry hanging out of his mouth. “From now on, I’m in charge of your lunch. Got it?” I’d made up my mind. I was going to make Ethan eat greasy, heavy food every single day. I’d make him eat until he puked, until he got fat, until he ballooned into a 300-pound linebacker. Let’s see him compete with my brother for Homecoming King then. Fearing he might misunderstand my intentions, I quickly added, “It’s just that this stuff is so greasy it makes me sick to look at. I don’t want it, so I’m giving it to you.” But in that moment, Ethan’s usually gloomy eyes suddenly lit up. They sparkled like distant stars. “Okay,” he said. My plan backfired. Spectacularly. After a month of eating my “leftovers,” Ethan did gain weight. But only about fifteen pounds. He just looked less skeletal and more… solid. Healthier. It only made more girls crush on him. During the championship basketball game, both Ethan and Leo were playing. The crowd used to be a sea of cheers for Leo. But this time, the chants for “Ethan! Ethan!” were way louder. And then, the final nail in the coffin: Maya, the girl Leo was crazy about, ran onto the court to give Ethan a bottle of water. After the game, Leo was glumly sipping the water I gave him. “Paige, I thought you were gonna handle him. Is this what ‘handling him’ looks like?” He sighed dramatically. “It’s fine. I lose the title, I lose the girl… I guess I was just born to lose.” He looked up at me with those kicked-puppy eyes. “Don’t worry about me, sis. I’ll survive.” Leo’s always been kind of a softie. When things got tough, he always relied on me. I couldn’t stand seeing him so down. I patted his shoulder firmly. “Leo, I swear, this time I’m going to properly humiliate him. Just you wait.” Ethan was a guy, and guys have fragile egos. I came up with the perfect way to crush his. I cornered him after school as he was getting on his beat-up bicycle. “What’s the rush?” Ethan held the handlebars, answering me seriously. “My mom’s in the hospital. I’m going to see her.” “Oh, well then you should—” I stopped myself, remembering my promise to Leo. I grabbed his collar. “Hold on, you’re not going anywhere!” I pulled a black debit card from my purse, holding it between two fingers like it was something dirty. I tilted my chin up, my voice dripping with condescension. “There’s ten grand on this. A little gift from me.” I expected a scholarship kid to have some pride. I thought he’d be furious at the insult. But he just looked at me, his eyes swirling with some unreadable emotion, and reached for the card. “Paige… thank you.” The pop-up captions appeared again, frantic this time. 【Ethan’s mom is seriously ill. She needs surgery, and it costs ten thousand dollars.】 【He’s been trying to borrow money from everyone but couldn’t get it. He’s been stressing about it for weeks.】 【Paige, honey, giving him this money right now is like sending a lifeboat to a drowning man. How is this supposed to be humiliating?】 【If this is humiliation, please, humiliate me like this every day!】 I froze. Just as his fingers were about to touch the card, I snatched it back. I threw it on the grimy pavement and stepped on it with my pristine white sneaker. “You think it’s that easy?” “Ethan, my shoe is dirty. Clean it.” He stared at the ground, not saying a word. The veins on the back of his hand popped out. He had to be feeling utterly humiliated. I thought about how he’d smiled and talked with Maya on the court, leaving my brother to sulk on the sidelines. My anger flared up again. I sat down on a nearby bench, stuck my foot out, and commanded, “Hurry up.” He rummaged through his backpack and pulled out a clean napkin. He knelt. His warm hand suddenly wrapped around my ankle, and the unexpected touch made me flinch. “What are you doing?” I snapped. He didn’t answer. He just placed my foot on his knee and began to carefully wipe away the tiny smudge on my shoe. His eyelashes were long and curved, casting little shadows on his cheeks. I had to admit, the guy wasn’t hard to look at. He kept wiping, over and over, probably because he was so angry and humiliated he couldn’t think straight. Even his ears were turning red. Satisfied with the sight of my shoe print on his jeans, I finally pulled my foot back. “Fine. The money’s yours. Take it.” I added one last jab. “And stay away from other girls from now on. Don’t you know about personal space?” He seemed furious, his whole face flushed, but he just nodded silently. I was satisfied. Finally, I’d completed the mission Leo gave me. But I never expected Ethan to be so untrustworthy. It only took two days for him to break his promise. Leo was going to confess to Maya. He’d set the stage on the school rooftop. He filled it with pink balloons and had a huge bouquet of roses ready. It was just supposed to be a few sentences, but Leo was so nervous he practiced it over and over, checking his watch while he waited for her. The agreed-upon time came and went. No Maya. Fifteen more minutes passed. Still no Maya. Leo couldn’t take it anymore. He sent a friend to find out what was going on, only to learn that Ethan had intercepted Maya and taken her somewhere. After hearing the news, Leo just sat there, a lonely figure in a sea of pink balloons, sighing into the wind. His empty gaze fell on me. “Paige…” Before he could even finish, I jumped in. “Don’t worry, Leo. I’ll humiliate him again tomorrow.” “No, that’s not it. I was wondering… can you make Maya give up on Ethan?” That was a tough one. I was good at bullying people. This whole relationship thing was way over my head. Seeing the look on my face, Leo sighed again. “Never mind. If you can’t, just roughing him up a bit for me is fine too.” It was the middle of winter, and Leo had been on the freezing rooftop for hours. As he spoke, he let out a huge sneeze. That’s when I remembered an essay Ethan had written. It was passed around as a model for the whole grade. In it, he wrote that he was born with a poor constitution and had always been afraid of the cold. Heh. If I can’t fatten you up, I’ll freeze you to death. I intercepted Ethan again, this time hopping onto the back of his bicycle without an invitation. “Ethan, take me home.” He froze, his long legs keeping the bike steady. “Paige, don’t you have a driver who picks you up?” I shot him a glare. “What, I’m not allowed to ride your bike now?” “That’s not what I meant,” he explained hastily. “It’s too cold in the winter. You should take the car.” “Ethan,” I said, staring at his scarf and giving it a tug. “Take off your scarf. Give it to me.” “And the gloves. Take those off too.” He obediently did as I said, wrapping his scarf snugly around my neck and placing his gloves in my lap. I was about to put them on when I saw Maya walking towards us from a distance. Remembering Leo’s request, an idea sparked. “Ethan, my hands are freezing.” I’ve always had poor circulation. My hands and feet turn to ice in the winter. Ethan pursed his lips. “I can help you put on the gloves?” “Ha. I’m not using your second-hand stuff.” As Maya got closer, I held my hands out to him. “Use your hands to warm mine.” Ethan looked at me, stunned. After a moment of intense internal struggle under my tyrannical gaze, his palm slowly came to rest on the back of my hand. My hand must have been like a block of ice, because his movements were incredibly hesitant. I stared at his face. “Ethan, your face is really red. Is it warm?” “Put my hands on your cheeks. Warm them up for me, you hear?” Ethan’s face flushed an even deeper shade of crimson. The hand holding mine trembled slightly. “That’s… not appropriate.” “What’s not appropriate? I’m just using your face for a little warmth.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Maya getting closer. I had a pretty good guess why he was being so difficult. Maya was beautiful, with a gentle but strong personality. Half the guys at school were in love with her. I leaned in closer to Ethan. “Is it because you have a crush on someone?” He flinched and immediately denied it, his voice frantic. “N-no, I don’t…” But his denial was weak, his eyes darting all over the place. A classic case of protesting too much. So he did like Maya. But Maya was my future sister-in-law. I couldn’t let him have her. To make him give up, I grabbed his collar. “Right now, this instant, use your face to warm my hands, or you’ll be sorry.” I’d already decided. If he refused, I was putting wasabi in his lunch tomorrow. Ethan looked at me, then slowly lowered his head, bringing my hands closer to his face. Then, he tilted his head, and his cheek pressed silently against my palm. The skin under my hand was warm and soft, like the stray kitten I’d once rescued from a dumpster at the group home. That little cat loved to be cuddled. Whenever I scratched its chin, it would stretch out and look at me with the same innocent, harmless eyes. When I didn’t say anything, Ethan gently rubbed his cheek against my palm. “Is that any warmer?” Maya was almost here. I just needed to hold this pose for ten more seconds. But right at that critical moment, I chickened out. “Um, my driver’s almost here. I think I’ll just take the car home after all.” “Oh, right, here’s your stuff back.” I hastily unwrapped the scarf, hung it back on his neck, turned around, and bolted. The look in his eyes just now… it gave me this weird feeling of guilt. The thought that I’d taken his scarf and gloves, knowing how much he hated the cold, just to let the winter wind bite at him… it made me feel like a monster. I was running so fast I slammed right into Leo. He looked at me, confused. “Paige? What’s wrong?” he asked. “Weren’t you going to teach Ethan a lesson? Why do you look so freaked out? Did he do something to you?” I grabbed Leo’s sleeve. “Leo, let’s try a different approach.” “Let’s just leave Ethan alone. You like Maya, so I’ll help you win her over. Let’s not waste our energy on him.” Leo thought about it for a moment and then nodded, agreeing it was a solid plan. “Leo, go write a love letter. I’ll deliver it to Maya for you tomorrow.” That night, Leo pulled an all-nighter, writing an eight-thousand-word epic. He poured every ounce of his literary talent into it, citing classic literature and building an irrefutable case around his central thesis: “I like you.” While he was scribbling away, I was staring at the moon, lost in thought. When I wore Ethan’s scarf today, I noticed a thread had come loose at the corner, leaving a thumb-sized hole. After bullying him for so long, my conscience was starting to bother me. I wanted to buy him a new scarf. What style should I get? Just then, Leo sealed his masterpiece in an envelope and presented it to me with both hands. I took it solemnly, promising to complete the mission. But the delivery went horribly wrong. The letter ended up in Ethan’s hands.

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On the seventh anniversary of our relationship, my boyfriend and I announced my pregnancy. That night, he planned a spectacular marriage proposal. There were fireworks, a drone show, and all our friends and family were there to witness it. I lowered my head shyly, holding out my hand, waiting for Jack to slide the ring onto my finger. But then, a shimmering figure materialized in the air. It yelled at Jack. “I’m you from ten years in the future! Don’t marry Nina. The future you will wish she were dead.” The figure pointed to a quiet girl standing in the corner. “That is your true love. In ten years, you’ll take a knife for her. You’ll divorce Nina for her.” “I know you haven’t met her properly yet, but once you get to know her, you’ll see how wonderful she is.” “The future you will fly in lobster for her birthday and fill notebooks with everything she loves. Every moment with her, the very air will feel sweet. Even your arguments will feel like part of the romance.” “Only then will you understand that what you feel for Nina isn’t love. It’s just habit.” The 24-year-old Jack standing before me stiffened his neck. “Impossible! The only person I love is Nina!” Our friends, seeing him argue with thin air, burst into laughter. “She’s already said yes, man! You don’t have to keep professing your love!” one of them teased. I played along. “So, when are you coming over to meet the parents officially?” But he slowly straightened up, the ring box still clutched in his hand. “I… I think maybe this is too soon.” “Nina, just… wait for me. I need to think.” Everyone exchanged confused glances. And in the air, the man who called himself the future Jack shot me a triumphant, provocative smirk. 1 The romantic proposal ended in a confusing anticlimax. The 34-year-old Jack wanted to find the other girl, Chloe, but he was tethered to his younger self, a ghostly passenger in our car. He was dressed in a sharp, cool-toned suit that fit him perfectly, his expression dark and scowling. The small space of the car suddenly felt suffocating. I watched him out of the corner of my eye. What neither of them knew was that I could see the older Jack, too. He radiated the cold confidence of a mature, successful man. When his eyes swept over me, they were filled with an undisguised disgust, as if I were his sworn enemy. It was a jarring contrast to the 24-year-old Jack, whose gaze had always been soft and full of love for me. Other than their shared face, this older man was a complete stranger. When we got home, the older Jack took a tour of our apartment, like a critical landlord. “This place is a fixer-upper, isn’t it? You should renovate. Get rid of that Monstera on the balcony; Chloe likes succulents.” “And no more fresh flowers. Chloe is allergic to pollen. She likes handmade cookies, so replace the fruit in the fridge. And she loves those big, plush bears—get a giant one for the sofa.” A vein throbbed in my Jack’s temple. “Enough,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “I told you, I only love Nina. I don’t even know this Chloe person!” The older Jack just chuckled, like he was looking at a fool who refused to see the truth. “You’ll see how wonderful she is once you get to know her.” A gentle, nostalgic smile touched his lips. Then his eyes fell on me, sitting on the sofa, and his voice turned to ice. “And Nina… she’s just a mistake you made when you were young.” My hand, resting on the cushion, clenched into a fist, my nails digging deep into my palm. Jack and I had been desk-mates in high school. He’d played his guitar under my dorm window for three months straight to win me over. He’d run all over town in the dead of winter to buy me the hot chocolate and pastries I was craving. When a drunk harassed me once, Jack had shielded me, getting his head split open with a bottle for his trouble. He’d told me that the first time he saw me, he felt a spark. That his life wouldn’t be complete without me. His love had been a burning, brilliant fire, and his unwavering devotion had won me over. From school uniforms to office attire, we’d known each other for ten years, been in love for seven. We had been part of each other’s lives for nearly half our existence. Even if we were to break up someday, how could I, Nina, become nothing more than a mistake from his youth? I looked at my Jack, who was standing on the balcony. His knuckles were white, his jaw tight with suppressed anger and a fierce desire to defend me. I let out a small breath of relief. Maybe in the older Jack’s timeline, something had drastically changed. But the 24-year-old Jack, the one here with me now, was still completely mine. But then, the older Jack spoke again, and my heart seized in my chest. “If you don’t believe me,” he said with a cruel smile, “I can help you see the truth about your own heart.” 2 Worried I would notice something was wrong, Jack moved into the guest room, using the excuse that he didn’t want to disturb my rest. The next morning, he left for work before I woke up. It wasn’t until late in the afternoon that he called to say he wouldn’t be coming home that night. His tech startup had recently moved to a new office park on the other side of the city, so it wasn’t unusual for him to stay over when he worked late. But this time, a deep sense of unease settled over me. I called him back. His voice was tinged with a weary sort of patience. “Nina, the project is about to launch. I’m just so busy.” “Once we’re live, I’ll propose again, I promise. I’ll give you the wedding you deserve.” Hearing the exhaustion in his voice, I felt a pang of guilt. I was about to tell him to take care of himself when he cut me off. “Gotta go, a line of code just bugged out. It’s going to be a long night.” “Be good, okay? Take care of yourself and the baby. Love you both.” He hung up. I stared at the blank screen, stunned by the abruptness. A second later, a friend request popped up on my phone. The profile picture was a close-up of a succulent. I had a feeling it was someone I knew, so I accepted. They didn’t say a word. They just sent a video. In the video, Jack was at his computer, typing intently. Sitting right beside him, beaming, was Chloe. Her voice, sweet and cheerful, drifted through the speaker. “Jack, thank you so much for helping me with this proposal. I would have been here all night without you.” They were so close their shoulders were almost touching. Jack didn’t seem to notice or mind. He just turned his head and gave her a small smile. “It’s no problem. Girls shouldn’t stay up all night; you’ll get wrinkles.” An invisible hand squeezed my heart, and I could barely breathe. So this was his “busy night.” Helping Chloe write a proposal. For the next few days, Jack didn’t come home. And every day, “Succulent” sent me messages. Videos and photos of Jack and Chloe. At first, it was one a day. Then it became several. I learned that when Jack told me he was busy, he was actually taking Chloe to theme parks, going shopping with her, or staying late at the office to help with her work. In the first few videos, Jack seemed indifferent toward her. But as the days passed, the look in his eyes when he watched her grew softer, warmer. I watched the videos and photos over and over, unable to sleep. The initial shock and anger slowly curdled into a numb, chilling heartache. It was time for us to talk. 3 I asked Jack to meet me at our favorite restaurant. I waited for over an hour. The food had gone cold by the time he finally arrived. He was wearing a new suit I’d never seen before, and there was a smudge of cream on the cuff. The older Jack followed him in, his face a thundercloud. “Today is Chloe’s birthday. Why did you leave her to meet this woman? She’s all alone.” “If you go back now, you can still make it for the cake.” Jack ignored him, his jaw tight, and sat down beside me. A faint, unfamiliar woman’s perfume drifted toward me. My stomach churned, and I subtly shifted away. “Project keeping you that busy?” I asked. He didn’t seem to notice my discomfort, rubbing his temples. “Yeah, we had to add a new feature last minute. It’s been chaos.” He reached for my hand. “I’ve missed you this week. Have you missed me?” I pulled my hand back before he could touch it. “I can’t stand sweet smells right now.” He finally noticed the cream on his cuff and fumbled for a napkin. “Oh, uh, one of my colleagues had a birthday. I must have brushed against the cake on my way out.” But I had seen the video. He’d gotten that smudge while helping Chloe bake her own birthday cake. His movements faltered, his gaze shifting away from mine. “Sorry, Nina,” he said, avoiding my eyes. “The job I was saving for you at the company… I gave it to an old classmate.” “Her name is Chloe. We went to the same high school. Remember her?” “She was having a really tough time at her last job, her boss was a nightmare, so… I gave her the position I’d promised you.” I gripped my water glass, my knuckles turning white. A cold dread spread through me. His startup was his dream, and it desperately needed someone with advanced programming skills. To help him, I’d turned down a high-paying job my professor had arranged for me. I’d poured my heart and soul into building his technical framework. Now that the project was finally taking off, he had casually given away the core technical role he had promised me. I looked him straight in the face, deciding to give him one last chance to be honest. “I remember she had a crush on you in high school. Are you helping her because you feel sorry for her, or because you have feelings for her?” Jack’s pupils constricted. His voice rose. “That was ages ago! Of course I don’t like her! You’re pregnant, you’re emotional. Don’t say things like that!” Realizing how harsh he sounded, he softened his tone, taking my hand in his. “You have a master’s degree, Nina. Any company would be lucky to have you. She only has an associate’s degree. It’s hard for her to find a good job in this city. Just… let her have this one.” My heart turned to stone. I calmly pulled my hand away. Under his expectant gaze, I nodded. “Fine. She can have it.” If Jack was destined to fall in love with Chloe, then I, the temporary placeholder, needed to cut my losses and get out. 4 We never did eat that cold meal. Jack’s phone rang. He answered, his voice instinctively softening. “Chloe? What’s wrong?” I couldn’t hear what she said, but his brow furrowed. “Don’t worry. I’m on my way.” He hung up and looked at me, a flicker of guilt in his eyes. “Nina, something urgent came up at the office. I have to go. You eat first, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I sat there until the restaurant closed for the night. He never came back. That evening, I went home and scheduled an appointment for an abortion. I placed a hand on my flat stomach. This unexpected child would never get to see the world. If there was anyone to blame, it was your father, whose love and promises were as fleeting as the wind. I started packing my things. After seven years together, the gifts Jack had given me filled two large boxes. A custom night-light, matching watches engraved with our initials, pillows with our photos printed on them, a couples’ jigsaw puzzle, a thick stack of tickets from all the trips we’d taken… He used to say that each gift held a memory of our time together, that when we were old, we would show them to our children and tell them the stories. I had cherished every single one. Now, they were just junk, painful reminders of a love that was dying. I threw them all in the trash without a second thought. When I arrived at the clinic, the doctor told me after a preliminary check that my health was too poor for the procedure. It would be safer to build up my strength first. I’d lost my appetite recently, and my weight had plummeted. She prescribed some supplements and told me to get more rest. I was to come back for another check-up the following week. I walked home with the medicine, and as I reached my apartment building, I saw two figures arguing in the hallway. Or rather, the 34-year-old Jack was trying to drag the younger Jack away. My Jack was holding a small velvet box. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing the faint scar on his collarbone. He’d gotten that in college when we went hiking. I’d slipped, and he’d thrown himself forward to catch me, his skin scraping against a sharp rock. He shoved the older Jack away. “Get off me!” he growled. “I’m going home to see Nina!” “Why are you even going back?” the older Jack, impeccably dressed, shot back. “You’re already falling for Chloe, so why are you still planning to propose to Nina? If you’re worried about the baby, just have her get rid of it.” “Shut up! Chloe and I are just colleagues. I only love Nina.” My Jack’s eyes burned with a stubborn, youthful defiance. “You’re the one who cheated, you bastard. You have no idea how much I care about her.” “Is that so?” the older one sneered. “Then why are you so happy when you’re with Chloe? When her boss was giving her a hard time, you gave her the job you promised to Nina.” He took a step closer. “And if that’s not love, then how do you explain this: when Nina had morning sickness and couldn’t eat, you ordered some random soup online for her. But when Chloe casually mentioned she was craving that special ramen from downtown, you drove halfway across the city to get it for her.” My Jack froze. “I… I only felt sorry for her,” he stammered. “You told me about her difficult childhood.” I felt a wave of nausea. I turned to leave, but he saw me. He quickly pocketed the velvet box and rushed over, grabbing my hand. His voice became gentle. “When did you get back? I tried calling you.” I pulled my hand free, my face a blank mask. “Just now. What is it?” He seemed relieved, not knowing that I could see his older self, that his bizarre argument with the air wasn’t a secret. He took my hand again, pulling me toward the elevator. “I’ve been so busy with work lately, I’ve neglected you. I’m sorry about dinner yesterday. I booked the same restaurant again. Let’s have a proper meal tonight.” “We don’t need to eat. I have something to say to you.” I tried to pull away, but his grip was firm. He led me to the car, settled me in the passenger seat, and leaned over to buckle my seatbelt. Just as he had done countless times before, he gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, his smile soft. “I have something to say to you, too. We can talk over dinner.”

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It was my daily “quiet quitting” time. I clicked on the pinned contact at the top of my list, the one for my ice-king stepbrother, and fired off my usual message. [Bro, cooking tonight?] The second I hit send, a coworker stopped by my desk. We chatted for maybe two minutes, but when I looked back at my phone, my work-chat was exploding. My deskmate, Chloe, was spamming me. [OMG! I think Mr. Pace is dating someone!] [And it’s SPICY 🌶️🌶️🌶️] My heart leaped into my throat. My fingers moved faster than my brain, clicking the video she’d sent. It was a recording of a conference call. Landon (Mr. Pace, to the rest of them) was on screen, looking unfairly good in a dark red shirt and a black waistcoat. His sleeves were rolled, showing a hint of forearm, and he was wearing those old-fashioned sleeve garters that, on him, looked less “grandpa” and more “sexy intellectual.” I felt a fire light up… in my stomach. Yeah. God, he looked good enough to eat. I shoved that thought down and focused. The camera was shaky, aimed at the giant monitor where Landon was screen-sharing. A notification popped up. The profile picture was… familiar. It was… mine. But my name wasn’t “Autumn.” And it wasn’t “Sister.” My contact name was a bizarre chemical compound: [Phenylethylamine]. I frowned, but before I could even google it, I saw the message I’d sent. I almost jumped out of my chair. I’d meant to type [Bro, cooking tonight?]. But my fingers had flown too fast. “Bro” had become “Hubby.” That, I could have explained. A ‘B’ and an ‘H’ are… well, okay, they’re not close. But the real problem? I’d deleted the word “cooking.” So, the message that flashed on the screen for the entire executive board to see was: [Hubby, tonight?] The entire conference room went dead silent. You could see all the department heads trying not to look at Landon, their faces screaming, “You, Mr. Cold-and-Proper, are into THIS?” Landon froze for a second. Then, without explaining, he calmly closed the chat window, looked down at his phone, and typed something. “Sorry,” he said, his voice smooth and magnetic. “She’s… playful.” The audio in the video was crystal clear. That deep, steady voice hit my ears and sent a jolt straight to my brain. My face was on fire. The video ended there. Chloe was losing her mind in our chat, insisting his tone was dripping with affection. Which, of course, made me blush even harder. [Chloe: No idea who snagged that demon, but damn, she is eating well!] [Chloe: Wait.] [Chloe: That profile pic is YOU.] [Chloe: Autumn, are you…?] I frantically cut her off. [Me: NO! It’s not! I barely even know Mr. Pace!] I’d hidden my connection to Landon since I started working here. I avoided him at all costs. Chloe bought my denial. I let out a huge sigh of relief and swiped out of her chat. And there it was. The little red ‘1’ next to my pinned chat with Landon. I didn’t even have to open it. I could see the preview of his reply. One word. [Yes.] I stared at it. My mind was completely blank. When I was watching the video, I’d been trying to guess what he’d type. A question mark? A “WTF”? I never expected this. So… He must be talking about… food, right? I had no idea how to reply. The message was so bad, it was hard to believe it was an accident. I did the only thing I could: I posted on Reddit. Title: TIFU by texting my stepbrother “Hubby, tonight?” instead of “Bro, cooking tonight?” He’s in a meeting, screensharing, and he just replied “Yes.” What do I do??? User_A: “Accidentally” or “accidentally-on-purpose”… User_B: @User_C, get in here. This is that step-sibling-romance plot you love! User_C: Read the post. Where can I find “Hubby, Tonight? Part 2 (Uncensored)”? User_D: If he’s not into you, I’ll eat my keyboard. User_E: Wait… aren’t you the girl who posted a few years ago, “Help! I met my dream guy at a family dinner, and he’s my new stepbrother”? …Shit. I can’t believe someone remembered that. Before I was sixteen, everyone in our small town felt sorry for my mom. She’d been a “brainy girl who threw it all away” by running off with my dad, a broke musician who was hot and knew it. Then they got divorced, and she married a real estate mogul in Chicago. Just like that, my senior year of high school, I was suddenly a rich kid. The only problem was, at the first big “welcome to the family” dinner, I met him. My ideal man. My cold, beautiful, new stepbrother, Landon. He was only four years older than me, home from college. He sat right across from me. He had platinum-blond hair back then, and I couldn’t stop staring. He didn’t seem to like me. He’d push up his black-framed glasses and pointedly look away. I was crushed for about half a second, until I got distracted by his hands. And the hint of collarbone at the neck of his sweatshirt. And the little mole on his throat that bobbed when he drank his water. My god. I was a small-town girl. I hadn’t been poisoned by the internet yet. I’d never seen an incubus in real life. I just… stared. That crush festered for six years. I spent that time trying to get close to him, playing the role of the perfect, adoring little sister. Landon remained unimpressed. Whenever one of his friends would say, “You’re so lucky, your stepsister is so sweet,” he’d frown, his eyes getting colder. “I don’t see her as a sister.” It was a polite, brutal rejection. It stung so badly I avoided him for weeks. But we lived in the same house. It was impossible. I’d run into him at the pool. Him, in nothing but swim trunks. The wide shoulders, the abs, the pale skin. My eyes just… locked on. Or I’d find him by the front door, leaning against his motorcycle, helmet on, just those intense, dark eyes watching me. The summer wind would blow the roses on the wall behind him, and my high school English lessons would kick in. “It is not the wind moving. It is not the flag moving. It is your mind moving.” I’d clutch my backpack straps and, after a long internal battle, I’d put my “good sister” mask back on. “Bro… can I get a ride to campus?” That was the day I made that Reddit post. I’d hidden it later, scared someone I knew would find it. And now, here it was, dredged back up. I sighed. I decided to just ignore Landon. Based on six years of him being a cold, distant jerk, he probably just wanted me to drop the awkward subject. But when I got to the elevator after work, he was there. His eyes were half-lidded, but his gaze was fixed right on me. I swallowed and stepped in, standing with my back to him. The elevator filled up. With every stop, I was pushed back, and back, until my shoulders were pressed against his chest. A second later, he pressed something into my palm. I looked down. It was his apartment key. Oh, my god. This was… this was a key. To his apartment. He was giving it to me. I nearly died. I had to give it back. I fumbled, trying to shove it back into his hand without anyone seeing. My fingers brushed… something. Something hard. A low, pained grunt echoed in the silent elevator. Everyone turned. I snatched my hand back, my face instantly turning the color of a tomato. “You stepped on my foot,” Landon said, his voice a little strained. “Oh! Sorry, so sorry!” I mumbled. The doors opened. I practically fell out of the elevator. I was halfway to my car before I realized I still had the key. My phone lit up. A new text from Landon. [Landon: That’s my only key.] Well. Shit. Now I had to go to his place. He beat me there. He was leaning against his apartment door, arms crossed, watching me drag my feet down the hallway. I finally made it to him, my head down. “Your key…” He held up another key and unlocked the door. I looked at him. “You lied to me?” “Yes,” he said, no shame at all. He held the door open. “Coming in?” “No! No, thank you!” I said, backing away. He didn’t push. He just leaned against the doorframe and coughed, a deep, rattling sound. He looked… sick. I stopped. “Are you okay?” “Just a fever,” he mumbled, his eyes downcast. He looked so vulnerable. My hand automatically went up to feel his forehead. He flinched, stepping back. “Just go home, Autumn. Don’t worry about me.” His voice was cold, but it was the cold of someone pushing people away. I marched right past him into the apartment, shutting the door behind me. “Where’s your medicine cabinet?” I was digging through his media console when I heard him chuckle. I turned around. He was sitting on the sofa, looking perfectly healthy, watching me with a lazy smile. He tugged his tie loose.

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I got home late from my internship, only to find my deeded parking spot taken by a brand-new Porsche. It took me forever to track down the owner. When I did, she refused to move, hitting me with a laundry list of excuses: “It’s your fault for coming home so late,” “Just find another spot,” and my personal favorite, “What if you’re a creep trying to rape me?” I thought about it all night. Then, I had a plan. The next day, I got a call. “Sir, you’re a civilized person. Don’t stoop to her level.” I laughed. “Don’t be so sure. I’m not civilized at all.” 1 I landed my dream internship at a major bank. As a graduation gift, my parents bought me a brand-new electric car, a sleek Xiaomi SU7. They wanted my commute to be safe and comfortable. I was so grateful I almost cried. I posted a picture on Instagram, thanking my parents for being the absolute best. A few minutes later, my boyfriend, Matt, texted me. ‘Babe, I got good news too! I landed that new job! It’s a $3k raise!’ Double good news! I agreed to meet him for dinner, driving my new car. We’d been together since college. His family situation was tough—his mom was partially paralyzed, and his dad ran a food truck. He was, to put it mildly, broke. But he was gorgeous. I’m an only child. My parents own a few businesses and got lucky with some real estate. We’re in completely different worlds. My parents weren’t thrilled about him and told him he needed to buy a house before they’d even consider marriage. Matt swore to them he’d have a down payment within three years. To help him, I never asked for gifts. But Matt had all the ambition and none of the hustle. Whenever I suggested he could pick up some gig work on weekends, he’d sigh. “I’m already exhausted from my 9-to-5, babe. I have no energy. Maybe next weekend.” But “next weekend” always turned into “I’m sick” or “I have to work.” The house was just a test. I knew it. But watching him flake out, again and again, was chipping away at my feelings. The cute, talented college guy wasn’t cutting it in the real world. We hadn’t spoken in almost a month. I was this close to breaking up with him when he sent that text. He finally got a new job. I was genuinely thrilled. I pulled into the restaurant, excited. But Matt just gave me a quick, distracted hug. His eyes were glued to my car. He immediately asked if he could take it for a spin. I hated to kill his vibe, but… “Matt, you still haven’t passed your driver’s test. And this is a parking garage. What if you hit something?” His face fell. But he recovered quickly, launching into a speech about his new job. I was happy for him until he mentioned the commute. “Wait, it takes you two hours each way? By bus and subway?” I did the math. “The raise doesn’t even cover the Uber fare if you’re late. You’re really going to spend four hours a day on public transport?” 2 He blinked, as if the question surprised him. Then, he put a piece of fish on my plate and casually dangled my car keys. “Babe, you have a car now. You can just drive me.” “That’s why I took the job. I figured you’d be able to. Otherwise, I’d be wasting four hours I could be using to moonlight.” I didn’t answer. My apartment, his apartment, my new job, and his new job were at four completely different corners of the city. Driving him would add at least two hours to my day. My parents bought me the car to make my life easier, not to turn me into his personal chauffeur. He didn’t notice my silence. “I’ll even pick you up breakfast! You’ll save money.” “And at night, we can go grocery shopping, I’ll cook, and you can just pay for the food!” I held up my hand. “Matt, stop. It’s not on the way. At all.” He leaned across the table, grabbing my arms and putting on his pathetic puppy-dog face. “But it would be on the way if you moved in with me!” I stared at him. “We’d commute together, eat together… it would be perfect!” I laughed, but it was a cold sound. “So, let me get this straight. You want me to give up my 800-square-foot apartment to move into your 300-square-foot studio?” “And pay for the groceries?” “And wake up an hour earlier every day to be your driver?” The audacity was stunning. He smiled, his voice turning into a wheedle. “Babe, don’t make it sound so bad! And hey, if you do… some of the chores, I won’t even make you pay for food. I’ll only charge you, like, a thousand bucks for rent. It’s a steal.” “This new job has a huge future, Liv. I’m doing this to save up for our house. This is all for you.” My voice was flat. “So I should be thanking you, then.” “Exactly! You’re my future wife!” he chirped. “Oh, by the way, my washing machine is broken, so you’ll have to hand-wash our stuff for a while. Or you could just buy a new one.” “And since you’re saving so much, you should really learn to cook. That’s what a good wife does.” “My college reunion is next month. My license should be here by then. Make sure you get the car detailed. I want to look good pulling up.” 3 I looked at the storm clouds gathering outside. Then I looked at the man in front of me. This was the first time I suspected his jawline might be made of titanium, because his nerve was incredible. I grabbed my purse and stood up. “I’m sorry, but I’m not signing up to be your bang-maid, your ATM, or your chauffeur.” “Matt, we’re done. Break up.” I turned to leave. He grabbed my wrist, hard. “Olivia, what the hell does that mean? ‘Break up’?” He glanced at my keys and his face contorted into a sneer. “Oh, I get it. Land the big corporate job and the first thing you do is dump the poor boyfriend, right? I knew there was a reason you were ignoring me. You planned this!” “And here I was, working my ass off for you, going to interviews in this disgusting heat, and you’re this cold? You can’t see any of my sacrifices?” It was the dinner rush. The restaurant was packed. I could feel people staring. My disappointment crystallized into pure, cold anger. I always thought he was just lazy. I never realized he was a manipulative, parasitic leech. As my expression hardened, he must have sensed he was losing. So he switched tactics, playing the victim for the audience. He took a deep breath, and his eyes weltered up. “Babe… I don’t want to break up,” he said, his voice cracking. “To buy you that house… I’m willing to commute four hours every day. I’ll do anything. Just… just don’t leave me. We’re family. I love you so much.” The restaurant, already quiet, went dead silent. The whispers started immediately. “Wow, she looks like a bitch. He’s willing to do that for her and she’s just staring at him?” The girl at the next table nudged her boyfriend. “If I were him, I’d dump her. He’s trying to save for a house and she’s going to dump him after she gets a good job? Disgusting.” Someone was filming me on their phone. Matt held his hand out, his eyes shining with fake tears. “Babe, don’t listen to them. Only I know how much I love you. Let’s not break up, okay?” 4 His words were like a slap. Suddenly, all the little red flags I’d ignored for years snapped into focus. The time I spent half my student loan refund on new Nikes for him because his were falling apart. He’d “refused” to take them. “Babe, you can’t spend this much on me. I’m not worth it. I’m used to having nothing…” I’d practically begged him to accept them, my heart aching for him. I didn’t notice how his eyes were glued to the box the entire time. He used my pity against me then, just like he was using public opinion now. He was weaponizing my success to keep me under his thumb. I was done. I looked straight at him and, in a clear, carrying voice, I said: “I’m sorry, but I am not your chauffeur or your maid.” “Move out of my own apartment to pay you rent, hand-wash your clothes, and drive you to work? I’d have to be brain-dead.” “And that house? We both agreed the down payment and the title would be in your name only. So how, exactly, are you ‘buying it for me’? Or are you planning to put my name on the deed now?” He was speechless. His face turned purple. “I… I was being sincere,” he stammered. “Why do you have to be so… so petty?” Petty? I just laughed, turned, and walked out. When I got home, I told my parents everything. My dad slammed his fist on the table. “I knew that kid was a user! I could smell the calculation on him!” My mom just hugged me. “Good thing we bought that car. It just saved you from a lifetime of misery.” My dad sighed. “It’s not over. A guy like that, who’s willing to make a public scene? He won’t let this go easily.” My mom scoffed. “What’s he going to do? Show up here? I’ll call the cops.” But she was wrong. He didn’t come to the house. He came to my new job. 5 It was my first day. My new manager was showing me and two other trainees the systems. Suddenly, Matt walked into the bank lobby, holding a comically large bouquet of flowers. He shoved them at me. “Babe, I’ve thought about it. I was wrong.” “You’ve been pampered your whole life. I shouldn’t have said all that crap about laundry and cooking. I’ll do it. I’ll do everything. Just please, don’t break up with me.” I froze. My manager’s face went from professional-and-pleasant to ice-cold. She looked at me with pure annoyance. “You need to go handle your personal business. Then you can come back to work.” The humiliation and anger were so thick I could barely breathe. I tried to drag him outside, but he planted his feet. “Babe, I know you love me,” he said, his voice getting louder. “If this new job is what’s stopping us from being together, I’ll talk to your manager right now! We’ll quit! I can support you!” “Is that her? Is she the one forcing you to break up with me?” He pointed at my manager. Her face turned to stone. “Ms. Hayes,” she said, her voice dangerously quiet. “I’m saying this one more time. Handle this, or I’m calling security.” He was doing this on purpose. He was trying to get me fired. The rage exploded in my chest. I shoved him, hard. “Matt, get the hell out of here! Stop this!” He just stood there. I was about to scream for security myself when a new voice cut through the lobby. “Mr. Davis? What are you doing here? You know the company’s policy for new hires. You’re not allowed to take personal days in your first month unless it’s a funeral.”

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They say the granddaughter of the richest man in the city was switched at birth. And then I was picked up by a black town car and taken to his family’s estate. The butler told me I was the real heiress, the one who’d been lost for over twenty years. But my so-called parents didn’t seem very happy to see me. They called me trash, a hick from the sticks. The next time they were beating me for the sake of the fake heiress, my billionaire grandfather came home. When he saw the state I was in, he brought his cane down right on my father’s head. “You worthless bastard! I raised you all these years, and this is how you treat your own sister?” Then he pointed at me. “That’s my daughter! You dare touch her again!” My father froze, stunned. I was just as stunned. Hold on. Let’s just take a moment to straighten out this family tree. 1 Standing at the gates of the Cole family mansion in Greenwich, my stomach was a knot of anxiety. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic rabbit beating against a cage. I was excited to finally meet my birth parents, but terrified they wouldn’t like what they saw. Turns out, I didn’t need to worry about that. They made it perfectly clear. The heavy oak door swung open, revealing a woman dripping in diamonds and disdain. Catherine. My mother. Her eyes scanned me from my worn-out sneakers to my faded jeans, then back again. Her perfectly sculpted eyebrows drew together. “You’re Maya?” Her voice was as cold as the marble floor beneath my feet. “Even if things are rough out in the country, you could have at least worn something clean. Something presentable. Don’t track dirt on our floors.” A sharp sting pierced my chest. I opened my mouth to explain that these were my best clothes, but a girl my age peeked out from behind Catherine. She was dressed in a designer gown that looked like spun sugar, her eyes red as if she’d been crying. She gently tugged on Catherine’s sleeve. “Mom, don’t say that. Maya must have had it so hard. She’s probably never seen a place like this. It’s only natural she’d dress… simply.” Just then, a man strode over, wrapping a protective arm around the girl. Richard. My father. His voice was syrupy sweet when he spoke to her. “Brielle, you’re too kind, always thinking of others. Maya,” he said, turning his flat gaze on me, “I know you’re our biological daughter, but Brielle has been with us since the day she was born. We raised her. She’s everything to us.” So this was my welcome. Not a ‘hello,’ not a single question about the twenty years I’d lost. Just warnings. And I was supposed to learn their names from the way they spoke to each other? What was there to even worry about anymore? My throat tightened, my voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt. “I never wanted to replace anyone. I just… I just wanted to see you. To know what my real parents looked like.” “See us?” Catherine scoffed, crossing her arms. “Well, you’ve seen us. Don’t get any ideas. The Cole family doesn’t need another daughter. We have Brielle. If you have any sense, you’ll understand where you belong.” Brielle looked up at Richard, her eyes glistening with manufactured tears. “Dad, Mom, please don’t be so harsh. She just got here, she must be so scared. It’s my fault. If it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t feel so unwelcome.” Richard stroked her hair, his face a mask of adoration. “Don’t be silly, sweetheart. This has nothing to do with you. She just doesn’t know her place. Speaking of which, your eighteenth birthday is tomorrow. There’s a necklace at the Christie’s auction, ‘The Midnight Sun Diamond.’ Valued at fifty million. I’ll take you right now and we’ll get it for you. A perfect birthday present.” Brielle’s eyes lit up. She threw her arms around his neck. “Really, Daddy? I’ve read about that piece! You’re the best!” Catherine smiled, smoothing the skirt of Brielle’s dress. “We’ll go right now, before someone else snatches it up. For my Brielle, any price is worth it.” The three of them chattered away as they walked toward the garage, Richard calling back to the driver to get the heat just right so Brielle wouldn’t be cold. They never looked at me again. I stood alone in the grand entryway as a cold draft swept through, chilling my skin. Arthur, the family butler, approached with a glass of warm water, pressing it into my hands. “Miss, drink this. Warm yourself up. Mr. and Mrs. Cole… they’re just having a hard time adjusting. They’ve been with Miss Brielle for so many years. It’s a deep bond. Just wait until the master gets back from Europe. He’s a reasonable man. He’ll make things right for you.” I clutched the glass, the warmth of it failing to reach the ice forming in my heart. “Thank you, Arthur. But if my own parents treat me like this… why would a grandfather I’ve never met care about me at all?” The old butler sighed. “Don’t lose hope, Miss. The master nearly turned this state upside down looking for you all those years ago. He has never forgotten you. Just wait. When he returns, everything will be better.” I said nothing, just stared out the window in the direction their car had disappeared, my world a silent, frozen landscape. 2 That night, I lay in the guest room, lost in a bed that was too big and too soft. The unfamiliar luxury, the memory of Richard and Catherine’s cold eyes—it all made my skin crawl. Sleep was impossible. A soft knock echoed through the room. It was Brielle. She held a velvet jewelry box, a sweet smile on her face. “Maya, I saw this necklace at the auction today and thought it would look beautiful on you. I had Dad buy it for you. Please, open it. I hope you like it.” I was taken aback. After her performance this afternoon, this sudden kindness was jarring. But then a flicker of hope ignited. Maybe she was as kind as she pretended to be. Maybe I was just being paranoid. I took the box, my voice barely a whisper. “Thank you, Brielle. You didn’t have to do that.” “We’re sisters now. Of course, I did.” She smiled and leaned closer. Just as my fingers touched the clasp, she snatched the box from my hands and hurled it to the floor. Pearls scattered across the polished hardwood like tiny, broken teeth. In the next instant, she crumpled to the ground, hands flying to her face as she let out a piercing shriek. “Maya, no! Please don’t hit me! How could you just smash the necklace? I know you don’t like me, but I was just trying to be nice!” Her wail was perfectly pitched to carry. Seconds later, the door flew open and Richard and Catherine stormed in. Richard’s eyes locked on Brielle sobbing on the floor, then to the scattered pearls at my feet. His face contorted with rage as he pointed a trembling finger at me. “Maya! You have no class, no upbringing! Brielle brings you a gift from the goodness of her heart, and you throw it in her face? Did they teach you nothing where you came from?” His accusations rang in my ears. “I didn’t throw it!” I protested, my voice cracking. “She snatched it and threw it herself! She’s acting!” “How dare you lie to our faces?” Catherine rushed forward. “We saw the broken necklace at your feet and Brielle on the floor crying. Who else could have done it? Do you think because you’re blood, you can just walk in here and torment her?” “I didn’t!” My own tears started to well up, hot and furious. “I grew up with nothing, it’s true. No one taught me how to be some perfect little heiress. But I wasn’t taught to be a bully, either! You barge in here, you don’t ask a single question, and you just sentence me? You call that a good upbringing? I’m the one who had my life stolen for twenty years, with no one to care for me. If I have no class, it’s because you weren’t there to teach me!” My words hit a nerve. Catherine’s face flushed a deep red. She raised her hand and slapped me, hard. The sound cracked through the silent room. “You ungrateful brat! We brought you into this house. We could have left you to rot on the street, and this is the thanks we get? You dare talk back to me?” The sting on my cheek was a burning fire. I clutched my face, staring at her with all the hatred I could muster. Richard, shaking with fury, bellowed toward the door. “Arthur! Get in here! Lock her in the old storage house out back. No food for three days. Let’s see if she learns some respect then!” Arthur hurried in, placing himself between me and them. “Sir, the storage house is dark and cold. The young miss just arrived, her health… please, reconsider.” “Reconsider?” Richard sneered at the old man, his voice laced with menace. “I think you’re getting senile, meddling in my affairs. You say another word for her, and you can pack your bags and get out. This family doesn’t support traitors.” Arthur’s face went pale. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Two security guards stepped forward, grabbing my arms. They dragged me out of the room, their grips like iron. As they pulled me through the living room, I saw Brielle nestled in Catherine’s embrace. She peeked over her mother’s shoulder and shot me a look, a tiny, triumphant smile playing on her lips. That smile was a needle to my heart, and the world went cold. 3 The storage house was pitch black, a sliver of weak light bleeding from under the door the only proof that a world existed outside. I lay on the cold concrete, my stomach twisting into painful knots. I hadn’t eaten since the night before. I pushed against the heavy door; it was locked tight. My calls for help were swallowed by the oppressive silence. I stumbled around the space, searching for any way out, but was met only by solid, windowless walls. Hours bled into one another. Hunger and cold became a constant, numbing ache. My body trembled, and black spots danced in my vision. My consciousness began to fray at the edges. Just as I felt myself slipping away, the door creaked open. Blinding light flooded the space. Brielle stood silhouetted in the doorway, arms crossed, the two guards behind her. She walked toward me, her heels clicking on the floor, and looked down at my crumpled form. The fragile, gentle girl was gone, replaced by someone cold and mocking. “Maya, I thought you were tougher than this. Look at you. A few words from me, and Mom and Dad have you locked in here, starving. You really are pathetic, aren’t you?” I used the wall to pull myself up. I was weak, but my eyes were steady. “What are you so proud of? You can only get what you want by lying and performing for them. If we were judged on our own merits, you’d be nothing.” “Merits?” She let out a sharp, ugly laugh and patted my cheek. “Why would I need to compete with you? I’ve been in this family for twenty years. They already see me as their real daughter. You’re just some stray they were forced to take in. They could never truly love you.” I slapped her hand away. “I’m not a stray. And you have no right to say that. If you had any real confidence, you wouldn’t need to frame me to get by.” Her face hardened, her voice turning venomous. “Don’t push your luck. I came here to give you an out. Write a statement saying you’re leaving the Cole family voluntarily and will never come back. Otherwise, I’ll let you stay in here until you starve to death.” “I’m not leaving,” I rasped, my jaw tight. “This is my home, too. Why should I be the one to go?” Seeing that I wouldn’t break, she lunged, her hand raised to strike me. In a last burst of adrenaline, I threw myself at her, clamping my teeth down on her ear. “Aaaah!!!” Her scream was shrill enough to shatter glass. I held on, the coppery taste of blood filling my mouth. I didn’t let go until I heard the heavy thud of footsteps approaching. Richard and Catherine burst in. They saw Brielle clutching her bleeding ear and me with blood smeared around my mouth. Richard roared, his face purple with rage. “Maya! You’re insane! You actually bit her!” Brielle stumbled into her father’s arms, sobbing. “Daddy, it hurts so much! She tried to kill me! She told me to leave the family, and when I refused, she attacked me!” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and smirked. “Before, when you accused me of hurting her, it was a lie. This is what it actually looks like. You love playing the victim, don’t you, Brielle? Well, this time I made sure you’d actually have a reason to cry.” Catherine stared at Brielle’s torn ear, her voice trembling with fury. “You’re an animal. Brielle has been nothing but kind to you, and you do this? I’m going to teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.” Richard yelled to the guards, “Tie her up! Hang her from the rafters in the living room. Let her think about what she’s done!” The guards rushed me, brandishing a thick rope. I fought back, kicking and thrashing, but my exhausted body was no match for them. They bound me tightly and dragged me out of the darkness. 4 I hung from a heavy wooden beam in the center of the living room, the ropes digging into my wrists. Blood flow was cut off; my hands were already numb. Having not eaten in days, my head lolled forward, consciousness flickering like a dying candle. A bucket of ice water shocked me back to awareness. The frigid shock made my teeth chatter violently. Richard stood before me, a riding crop in his hand, his eyes filled with disgust. “Today, you will learn what happens when you disrespect the rules of this house.” He swung the crop, and it struck my back with a sickening crack. A line of fire seared across my skin. I bit back a cry. “You think because you share our blood you can do whatever you want?” Another lash. “You grew up wild, with no one to teach you any manners. Today, I’ll take on the responsibility of a father and beat the filth out of you.” Each blow felt like it was tearing me apart. Tears streamed from my eyes, blurring my vision. Catherine sat on the sofa, cradling Brielle, dabbing at her ear while adding her own venom to the assault. “Maya, you are a true snake. We are the Coles, one of the wealthiest families in the country. Letting you in this door was a gift from God, and you repay us by hurting Brielle? Do you have a soul?” “She… deserved it…” I gasped, my voice barely a whisper. “She started it… You just refuse to see…” “Still talking back!” Richard rained blows down on me, again and again. The leather tore through my shirt, and I could feel warm blood trickling down my back. “I see you won’t be satisfied until you’re half-dead! I won’t stop until you admit you were wrong!” His strength was terrifying. Every strike felt like it was breaking my bones. I couldn’t hold on any longer. The world dissolved into blackness. “Throw more water on her!” Richard’s voice was a distant, demonic rumble. “Get the doctor to give her a vitamin shot. I don’t want her dying before I’m done teaching her a lesson! We stop when she begs for forgiveness!” Another splash of icy water jolted me awake. The pain was all-consuming, a blinding white light of agony. I looked at the twisted face of the man in front of me and couldn’t believe he was my father. I regretted it all. I truly regretted it. I should never have listened, never have hoped to find my birth parents, never have come to the Cole estate. All I wanted was to see their faces, to feel a connection I had dreamed of my entire life… But this wasn’t connection. This was torture. Just as I felt the last of my strength give way, the front door crashed open with a deafening bang. A vibrant old man with a thunderous expression, leaning on a heavy cane, stormed into the room. The moment he saw me, he let out a roar of fury and swung his cane with surprising force, cracking it against Richard’s skull. “You degenerate son! How dare you lay a hand on her!”

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