Category: English

Everyone in the city of Crestfall knew that Asher Howard lived and breathed for me. At a high-profile auction, he’d dropped a fortune on a pair of matching, priceless rings, just for us. For my eighteenth birthday, he rented out an entire private island. This was the man who adored me. And yet, when my sister was bullied to death, he did nothing. Worse, he protected the one who did it. I knelt before him, tears streaming down my face, begging him to get justice for my sister. He gently wiped my tears away, his voice a soft caress. “Elara,” he murmured, “I would give you the world. But this… this one thing I cannot do.” “Aria is my sister. I can’t be the one to send her to her ruin.” 1 Asher’s voice was a velvet whisper, but his words were a dagger to my heart. He held out a legal settlement. “Be a good girl and sign this. I’ll make sure your family is well compensated.” “Elara, you know I spoil you. Just this once, please? For me?” I took the document, my eyes scanning the cold, printed words. My voice trembled as I read them aloud. “Following an investigation, the death of Sienna Moore has been ruled as natural causes. Aria Howard is considered an innocent party. The plaintiff agrees to this settlement, absolving her of all wrongdoing. The defendant agrees to pay the plaintiff twenty million dollars in compensation. Both parties consider the matter resolved.” “Well?” Asher asked, his tone expectant. My hand shook, and a tear splashed onto the page, blurring the ink. I looked up at him, my voice raw. “Asher, are you even human? My sister was bullied to death by Aria. How can you call that ‘natural causes’?” He reached out, his thumb brushing away a tear on my cheek. “Elara, Aria is only sixteen. She’s just a child.” “She didn’t know what she was doing. Can’t you find it in your heart to give her a second chance?” Sixteen. What a pathetic excuse. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “And wasn’t my sister sixteen? Who’s going to give her a second chance? You think saying ‘she didn’t know what she was doing’ erases what she did?” “Elara!” His eyes flashed with a warning. I knew that look. It was the one that always made me back down. But not this time. Not with Sienna. I wiped my tears away with the back of my hand. “So, you’re not going to help me. Is that it?” “I would do anything else for you, Elara. You know that. But not this.” His voice hardened. “And twenty million is more than enough to cover your sister’s entire life. Even if she had lived, graduated, gone to college, gotten a job… even if she made a hundred thousand a year, she would never have earned this much. It’s the same thing, Elara.” “What did you say?” My heart stopped. I stared at the man in front of me, a complete stranger. Was this the same man who cherished me, who would move mountains to see me smile? I stood there, frozen, letting the tears fall unchecked. A chill crept over me, deep and unsettling. Asher’s expression softened again, his voice dropping to a coaxing purr. “Come on, Elara, don’t be difficult. Once this is all over, I’ll make it up to you. I’ll get you something special. Okay?” A sob caught in my throat. “And what about my sister? She adored you. She used to follow you around, calling you ‘big brother.’ Is this how you repay her?” The pain in my chest was so intense I could barely breathe. “I’m devastated about Sienna’s passing too,” he said, his voice laced with false sympathy. “But we can’t bring her back. There’s no need to ruin another life. Aria is young. She can’t have this stain on her record. Elara, please try to understand.” Ruin another life? A bleak emptiness spread through me. “If you won’t help me, I’ll find a lawyer myself.” I turned to leave, but he grabbed my arm, his grip like iron. His face was cold. “Elara, are you sure you want to do this?” “Yes.” My voice was unwavering. “I can guarantee,” he said, his tone dropping to a deadly whisper, “that if you walk out that door, not a single law firm in this city will touch your case. You know I don’t make idle threats.” My breath hitched. I ignored him and walked out. 2 He was right. For days, I went from one law firm to another, covering every corner of Crestfall. No one would take my case. The moment they saw me, their faces would close up, their doors would shut. “Miss Moore, please, don’t put me in this position. Mr. Howard gave specific orders.” “You should try somewhere else, Miss Moore.” “Miss Moore…” I sat on a park bench, the file of evidence for my sister’s case heavy in my lap. I pulled out my phone, and a new social media post popped up. It was from Aria. The caption read: [My brother’s sending me abroad! Yay! ~] Below it was a selfie of her posing with a new Chanel bag. A moment later, a “like” appeared on the post. From Asher. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold the phone. Blood rushed to my head, and the image of my sister’s broken body flashed in my mind. Aria had pushed her from the fifth-floor window of their school. The coroner’s report detailed multiple injuries sustained before the fall. Just hours before she died, Sienna had texted me, promising to bring me a cupcake after school. By the time I got there, her body was gone. Under pressure from Asher, the school claimed the security cameras were broken. Aria had looked at me with smug triumph. “So what if my brother spoils you? When it comes to my future versus your sister’s life, there’s no comparison.” Rage coursing through my veins, I decided to go to the most prestigious law firm in the city. They were powerful. Surely, they wouldn’t bow to Asher’s influence. I went to the bank and withdrew every penny I had—a million dollars in cash. I walked into the law firm, ignored the receptionist’s protests, and dumped the entire bag of money on her desk. “I need to file a lawsuit. Is a million dollars enough?” The receptionist recognized me and fell silent. A moment later, a partner came out. “Miss Moore, I’m afraid we can’t…” “If a million isn’t enough, then take this.” I ripped off my emerald earrings—the ones Asher had bought for ten million at that auction—and threw them on top of the cash. That had to be enough. The partner just shook his head. “Please, Miss Moore, you’re making this very difficult.” “Still not enough?” I tore the diamond necklace from my neck and the bracelet from my wrist, thrusting them at him. “How about now?” “I… I can’t accept these,” he stammered. Suddenly, his eyes flickered to something over my shoulder. “Mr. Howard. Miss Howard.” My heart plummeted. I turned around. It was Asher and Aria. Aria smirked at me, a look of pure victory on her face. The memory of my sister’s death choked me. Asher strode forward, his brow furrowed, and grabbed my arm. “Elara, are you trying to give away my gifts?” he demanded. I wrenched my arm free. “Yes. Do you want them back?” “You…” He looked furious, but then seemed to collect himself. He pulled me into his arms. “Elara, stop this tantrum. I told you, no one will help you without my permission. Why can’t you just be reasonable? Sign the settlement, and all of this will be over.” “I even brought Aria here to apologize to you.” He pushed Aria in front of me. She bowed her head, her expression a mask of perfect contrition. “Elara, I’m so, so sorry. I never meant for it to happen. Sienna and I were just playing around, I didn’t think…” She went on and on, then leaned in close, grabbing my hand. Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “You should have seen the look on her face when I made her drink toilet water. That little bitch. She kept crying for her big sister while I was hitting her. You really are a good sister, aren’t you, Elara?” 3 Her eyes were dancing with amusement, locked on mine. A demon whispering in my ear. The horrific images of Sienna’s last moments played on a loop in my head, tearing me apart. “Enough! Stop talking!” I shoved her away and slapped her hard across the face, twice. “Elara, what are you doing?!” Asher lunged forward and yanked me back. I lost my balance and fell, my head cracking against a large ceramic planter by the door. A starburst of pain exploded behind my eyes. The world spun. I staggered to my feet, leaning against the wall for support. Aria was already nestled in Asher’s arms, her face a mask of terror. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Brother, I’m so scared. I don’t know what happened, Elara just attacked me.” Seeing her performance, a fresh wave of hatred burned through me. I lunged for her, but Asher threw me aside again. I landed in a heap on the floor. “Elara,” he said, his voice dangerously low, “sign the settlement and apologize to Aria. I won’t ask again.” A cold, bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Asher, are you insane? She provoked me! Is a human life really worth less than Aria’s reputation?” “I told you, you will be compensated,” he said, his voice like ice. The man who had once promised to love me forever was a stranger. Aria peeked out from behind Asher’s shoulder, a triumphant smirk on her face, as if to say, See? Compared to me, you’re nothing. Rage and grief intertwined in my heart. I clenched my fists. “You want me to sign that settlement? In your dreams.” I pushed myself to my feet and looked past him, directly at Aria. “Murder is murder,” I said, my voice ringing with conviction. “You can’t hide it. Even if no one in this city will take my case, I won’t give up.” If I couldn’t find a lawyer in Crestfall, I’d go somewhere else. There had to be someone in this world who wasn’t afraid of Asher Howard. “Elara, are you sure you want to do this?” His eyes were cold with warning. I met his gaze without flinching. “I will never stop fighting for my sister.” “Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He took Aria’s hand and left. A few minutes later, the law firm threw me out. I knew Asher’s threats were never empty. I just didn’t expect him to move so quickly. The story of my sister’s death was suddenly all over the internet. But it was a twisted version. She was painted as a home-wrecker, a teenage seductress who had been chased down at school and pushed to her death by a scorned wife. They posted her photo, alongside doctored images of her with strange men, checking into hotels. The internet exploded. The comments were a torrent of hate. “So the victim wasn’t so innocent after all. Figures.” “Wow, only sixteen and already stealing husbands. What kind of family raises a girl like that?” “A bitch like that deserved to die. You mess with someone’s family, you pay the price.” “I hate homewreckers more than anything. Good riddance!” 4 In the court of public opinion, my sister had gone from victim to villain. Her photo was turned into cruel memes, spreading like wildfire. Then, I got a text from Aria. [See how powerful my brother is? Get over here and beg for my forgiveness, and maybe I’ll call off the dogs.] [Or else.] A moment later, a video came through. It was a picture of my sister’s funeral portrait, with the word WHORE scrawled across it in red, being scattered like confetti on a busy street. An icy rage consumed me. I ran. When I got to the location from the video, a swarm of reporters surrounded me. “Are you the sister of the girl who was killed for having an affair? What’s your take on your sister’s death?” “Is it true that no lawyer in the city will represent you?” “They say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Do you agree?” They pushed and shoved, their cameras flashing in my face. Over their heads, I saw Aria on a second-floor balcony, watching with a smug smile. This was a trap. I tried to push my way through the crowd to get to her, but someone blocked my path. A large, furious woman marched up to me and slapped me across the face. Before I could react, she grabbed a handful of my hair. “You bitch! So you’re the one who’s been sleeping with my husband!” I was stunned. “What husband? I don’t—” “Don’t you dare lie to me, you whore!” Another slap. My head was spinning. The crowd grew larger, phones held high, recording everything. “No wonder the sister was a homewrecker. It runs in the family.” “A whole family of sluts. Are they that desperate for men?” “I can’t stand women who break up homes. Her sister got what she deserved, and now it’s her turn!” The woman yanked my hair, the pain searing. I tried to speak, to defend myself, but the crowd surged forward. “Let’s get her! It’s our civic duty to punish a homewrecker!” I was pushed to the ground. Fists and feet rained down on me. I instinctively curled into a ball, covering my stomach. “Stop,” I gasped. “Please, I’m pregnant. Don’t kick my stomach.” That only seemed to fuel their rage. “What? You got pregnant with another woman’s husband?” “We can’t let that little bastard be born!” “Get her!” A heavy boot slammed into my abdomen. A wave of agonizing pain washed over me. I felt a warm gush of liquid, and a pool of blood began to spread beneath me. I clutched my stomach, the pain unbearable. But they didn’t stop. They kept kicking, over and over. Through the forest of legs, I saw him. Asher, walking away, flanked by bodyguards, with Aria by his side. I tried to push through the mob, to crawl toward them.

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From childhood at St. Jude’s Home, my best friend Chloe and I were known as the toughest girls around. My sharp tongue made people cry; her fists “persuaded” them. Even the guard dog hid when we passed. At eight, we were poking an anthill when the director brought a wealthy couple—the Hestons, one of the nation’s richest families. They claimed Chloe was their long-lost daughter, but she threw a fit. “Without Vivian, I’d have been bullied to death!” she wailed. “If you don’t adopt her too, I’m not leaving!” I dropped my stick, wiped my face, and smiled sweetly. “I’m the best-behaved child here. Adopting me is your best deal!” The director’s face twitched as if he’d swallowed rotten garbage. Bullied? Best-behaved? Do you hear yourselves? Desperate to be rid of us, he made a choice that would haunt his ancestors. … “That’s right, Mr. and Mrs. Heston!” he gushed. “Chloe and Vivian are our two sweetest girls. They’re inseparable. Why don’t you just take them both?” The couple hesitated. “Well, raising another child isn’t a problem,” Mrs. Heston said slowly, “it’s just… we already have an adopted daughter at home…” Chloe and I shot each other a look. A fake heiress? Oh, hell no. I couldn’t let Chloe walk into that lion’s den alone. What if this girl was some two-faced, scheming witch? Chloe wouldn’t stand a chance. “Sir, ma’am,” I pleaded, my eyes wide with fake concern. “Chloe is very sensitive. A new environment all alone could lead to depression… or even suicide. If you take me with her, I promise I’ll take good care of her!” The couple flinched. Chloe immediately started bawling on cue. “That’s right!” she howled. “If you say no, I’ll hang myself from your front gate tonight! Waaah!” They caved instantly. Mrs. Heston looked at me. “We can take you, but you’ll have to get along with your new sister at home…” “I’ll be the best big sister ever! Don’t you worry, Mom!” The director looked like he was about to burst into tears of joy. “Wonderful! Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Heston, on your two lovely new daughters!” As they were led away to handle the paperwork, I grabbed Chloe’s hand. “Chloe, you’re a real one! You didn’t forget our pact to get rich together!” She rolled her eyes. “I was just worried you’d get beaten to death for that mouth of yours after I left.” I cackled. “Love you, girl! That fake heiress didn’t even show up today. Bet she doesn’t want you back. If she’s one of those manipulative types, I’ll handle her.” Our strength at St. Jude’s had always been our teamwork. I’d verbally eviscerate our enemies until they were seeing red, and she’d knock them flat the second they lunged. When it came to mind games, Chloe was a rookie. She squeezed my hand back, her eyes shining with gratitude. “Vivian, our future of fabulous wealth is all on you now!” “Don’t worry,” I declared. “I’ve got this.” When the Hestons returned, they smiled seeing us holding hands. “It’s so wonderful that you girls are so close. That puts our minds at ease.” In the car, Mrs. Heston told us about the family. We learned that besides the fake heiress, Isabelle Heston, Chloe also had a biological older brother who was two years her senior. He was the reason she’d gotten lost when she was three. The fact that the culprit himself hadn’t bothered to show up spoke volumes. Clearly, he wasn’t thrilled about his long-lost sister’s return. Sure enough, as soon as we stepped out of the car, we saw a sullen-faced teenage boy standing at the entrance to the mansion, arms crossed. When Chloe and I held hands and called out “big brother!” in unison, Leo Heston’s face cracked. “You adopted another one?” He only relaxed after being told that I, the other adoptee, had no inheritance rights. “I’m warning you two,” he snarled, “don’t you dare bully my sister, or you’ll have me to deal with!” I immediately ducked behind Chloe, my voice trembling. “Chloe, why is he playing favorites? If he’d been this protective of you back then, he wouldn’t have let you get lost and suffer in an orphanage for all those years…” The subtext was clear: You moron. You show zero remorse for losing your own sister, and now you’re threatening her to protect the impostor? Are you for real? Mr. and Mrs. Heston’s faces darkened. Leo looked like he was about to explode, but I quickly pinched Chloe’s side. She got the message and covered her face, bursting into tears. “If my brother doesn’t like me, I should just go back to St. Jude’s! Vivian, let’s go!” Mr. Heston snapped. He slapped Leo hard across the face. “You brat! Is this how you welcome your sister home? Get out of the way!” Leo clutched his cheek, glaring at us, but didn’t dare say another word. Chloe and I exchanged a triumphant look. Round one: victory. But the moment we stepped inside, we saw Isabelle, the fake heiress, standing on a stool, sobbing as she tried to loop a rope over the chandelier. Oh, great. The pity party has already started. Before anyone could react, I barked, “Hey! No indoor swinging!” Chloe executed a perfect slide tackle, knocking the stool and Isabelle clean over. Before Isabelle could even get the noose around her neck, she was sent sprawling on the floor. “Aah!” she cried out in pain. The whole family rushed to help her up. Seeing the rope and the toppled stool, they surrounded her in a panic. “Isabelle, honey, what on earth are you doing?” Isabelle looked up at us, her eyes swimming with tears. “It’s all my fault,” she sobbed to Chloe. “I’ve stolen your identity for so many years and made you suffer. Let me pay for my sins with my life!” She turned to her parents. “Please, don’t blame Mom, Dad, or Leo. Just… promise me you’ll take good care of them in my place.” Mrs. Heston hugged her tightly. “Don’t be silly, sweetie. In our hearts, you’ll always be our daughter!” Leo glared at us. “This has nothing to do with you, Isabelle. Let’s see who dares to blame you!” Isabelle buried her face in Mrs. Heston’s shoulder and shot me a look of pure, triumphant provocation over her arm. Yep, a Grade-A, certified witch. Trying to drive a wedge between us? Not on my watch. I unleashed my signature weapon. “So, you must be the adopted sister, Isabelle. So sorry about that, my mistake! I honestly thought someone was breaking the rules and trying to swing from the lights!” I tilted my head. “Wait a minute, were you trying to hang yourself? Honey, nobody uses a crystal chandelier for that. And that knot? A slipknot. It would’ve come undone the second you put any weight on it. You wouldn’t have died, but you might’ve brought the whole fixture down on someone’s head!” Chloe, scrambling up from the floor, chimed in. “Yeah, super dangerous! Good thing I was here to… uh… lend a foot.” Everyone looked up at the chandelier. They saw I was right. Mr. Heston’s face turned grim. “This is ridiculous! What if you had hurt your sister?” Seeing her plan fail, Isabelle looked at me and sniffled, “I’m sorry, sister. I just wanted to atone…” “You’ve got the wrong girl, sweetie. I’m your adopted sister. She’s the sister you need to apologize to.” I pushed Chloe forward. “Go on. Try again.” Leo puffed out his chest, stepping in front of Isabelle. “Dad! Isabelle was just trying to make things right! It was Chloe and Vivian who deliberately made her fall! They have no manners!” That did it. He could insult me all day, but nobody insults my best friend. “Leo, I know you want to play the hero, but you can’t just spew garbage from your mouth,” I snapped. “You want to talk about manners? Chloe grew up in an orphanage because you lost her. You’re the one who ruined her life, and you have the audacity to criticize her upbringing?” “This girl stole Chloe’s identity, her family, her entire life! How is she supposed to have ‘manners’?” “Your logic is so ass-backwards. I bet a dung beetle could crack open your skull and think he’d hit the jackpot!” My verbal barrage stunned the room into silence. Only Chloe was moved, squeezing my hand with tears in her eyes. “You’re the best, Vivian! I love you!” When Leo finally processed what I’d said, his face turned purple with rage. “How dare you talk to me like that?!” “Oh, I’m just getting started with you! Now it’s her turn!” I jabbed a finger at Isabelle. “And you! Who are you trying to fool with this damsel-in-distress act? You’re more full of crap than a landfill!” “Weren’t you supposed to be sick in bed? You seemed to have plenty of energy for your little suicide performance just now!” “Let me guess, the only thing you’re ‘sick’ of is the fact that Chloe’s back, and you can’t be the one and only princess anymore, right?” I’d hit a nerve. Isabelle looked panicked and tried to argue, but I cut her off. “Faking sick, faking suicide, trying to manipulate everyone… did my best friend ever once ask you to ‘atone’ for anything? We’re all supposed to be princesses here, so why are you the only one acting like a psycho?” Isabelle’s face went pale. All she could sputter was, “You… you… you!” I scoffed. “You what? If you have a stutter, go see a doctor. If you’ve got a problem with your brain, try reading a book!” Realizing she couldn’t win a war of words, Isabelle switched back to her weak, innocent persona. “I’m sorry, Chloe. It’s my fault. I was just so scared you’d hate me.” She turned to me. “Vivian, you can yell at me all you want. Just please, don’t take your anger out on Mom, Dad, and Leo.” Here we go again. This girl had no new tricks. I was done with her. I turned to the stunned Hestons. “I hear we’ll be in the same class as our sister from now on?” They nodded dumbly. “Great. We can help her out at school. So, where are our rooms?” Mrs. Heston quickly led us upstairs. Isabelle followed, red-eyed, and pushed open her own bedroom door with a grand, magnanimous gesture. “If you don’t mind, sister, you can have my room. It was always meant to be yours…” Leo charged in front of us again, foaming at the mouth. “Isabelle, this is the princess room Mom decorated just for you! These uncultured brats don’t deserve it!” Seeing the storm brewing in my eyes, Mrs. Heston shot him a warning look. She turned to Chloe with a gentle smile. “Chloe, dear, you can have any room in the house. Think of it as our way of making up for lost time.” Chloe glanced at Isabelle’s frilly, pink nightmare of a room with disgust. She then pointed to a much larger room down the hall with better light. “We’ll take that one! It’s big enough for me and Vivian.” Leo nearly lost his mind. “Are you serious? That’s Mom and Dad’s bedroom!” I smiled sweetly at Mrs. Heston. “Mom, you did say any room. You wouldn’t go back on your word, would you?” Her smile was strained, but she nodded. “Perfect! We’re exhausted from the trip. You guys should get some rest, too!” With that, I pulled Chloe into the room and slammed the door, leaving the petrified family standing in the hallway. The next few weeks were a blur of shopping. After eight years of scraping by, we were finally living the dream of swiping a credit card without looking at the price tag. We had carloads of designer bags and boxes delivered, transforming ourselves into a pair of bona fide heiresses. Every time Isabelle made a snide remark about our spending, I would shut her down with a verbal smackdown. When insults failed, she resorted to petty tricks. Day one, she “accidentally” dropped a vase from the top of the stairs, aiming for our heads. Chloe caught it with one hand without even breaking stride. Day two, she “accidentally” knocked a tureen of hot soup toward Chloe at the dinner table. Chloe deftly redirected it, sending it splashing all over Isabelle, who shrieked in pain. Day three, she snuck her own diamond necklace under our pillow and then brought the whole family in to “catch us in the act.” I simply played the footage from the hidden camera I’d installed, showing her planting it herself. Cornered, she tearfully claimed she had just wanted to “give us a surprise.” After failing at both verbal and physical warfare, Isabelle finally backed off. But we knew she was just biding her time. Sure enough, a month later at the assembly of our new elite private school, she stood before the entire student body with red-rimmed eyes. “These are my new sisters,” she announced. “My parents recently brought them home from an orphanage. Please take good care of them!” In one sentence, she had painted us as the charity cases, the fake heiresses. The students looked at her with pity. “Wow, the Hestons can just adopt kids whenever they feel like it?” “Poor Isabelle, now she has to share her parents’ love…” I smiled and nudged Chloe to pull out the DNA test results. “That’s a funny way of putting it, Isabelle,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’ve been squatting in my best friend’s home for eight years, and you’re the one playing the victim?” “And for the record, you’re just as adopted as I am, so maybe drop the ‘poor little princess’ act?” I addressed the stunned crowd. “Hi everyone! I’m Vivian, the best friend of the real Heston heiress, Chloe. And yes, I was also adopted by the Hestons. Not because they’re rolling in cash, but because they were afraid certain people,” I said, pointedly looking at Isabelle, “might try to bully Chloe. They wanted me here to protect her. Just like I’m doing right now.” The auditorium went silent. Then all eyes turned to Isabelle, filled with scorn. “Wait, so she was the fake one all along?” A group of girls who clearly disliked Isabelle started to jeer. “Of course! She always acted like she was royalty. Turns out she’s just a wannabe.” The laughter was like a slap across Isabelle’s face. She looked like she was about to burst into tears. From that day on, she was branded the school’s resident two-faced fake. To salvage her reputation, she threw herself into piano and ballet lessons, hoping to outshine us with her grace and poise. In response, I started taking stand-up comedy and improv classes. Chloe signed up for kickboxing and Tai Chi, honing her natural talents to a razor’s edge. Isabelle’s dream of overshadowing us never materialized. At every school festival, my comedy routine and Chloe’s finale—breaking a cement block on her chest—completely eclipsed her boring performances. I became a campus celebrity for my wit, while Chloe became the school’s unofficial protector. With us around, bullying and fights practically vanished. By the time we were sixteen, the two little devils from St. Jude’s had somehow grown into well-adjusted, surprisingly popular young women. Mr. and Mrs. Heston adored us and were planning a press conference to officially introduce us to the world. “It’s time Chloe got some shares in the company for her eighteenth birthday,” we overheard Mr. Heston telling his wife. “She’s our biological daughter, after all. And the company has taken a hit from Preston Corp lately. We need a strategic marriage to stabilize things. Luckily, the Preston heir isn’t opposed to meeting. We’ll see which of the girls he connects with…” Isabelle, who was listening from the shadows, clenched her fists. A venomous smile crossed her face. For the next two years, Isabelle and Leo did a complete 180. They not only stopped antagonizing us but actively tried to be friendly. Leo even offered to mentor Chloe in the family business after she started college. Isabelle transformed into a sweet, doting little sister. On our eighteenth birthday, they showered us with gifts and well-wishes. Just before the party, they announced they had a surprise for us: a private fireworks show from a nearby hilltop.

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My husband’s “girl bro” brought over a batch of her homemade granola bars. I saw the little green specks of mold in the oat clusters and immediately told my husband not to eat them. That just made his friend, Gina, roar with laughter. “God, you’re so high-strung. It’s a granola bar, not poison. Your husband’s eaten way worse. Hell, he’s practically licked my boots clean on a dare before.” I was so angry I threw the whole tray in the trash. Leo, my husband, thought I’d embarrassed him. He gave me a hard shove. I wasn’t ready for it. The back of my head hit the corner of the counter with a sickening crack. I felt a warm wetness and the world started to tilt. It was intracranial bleeding. Gina just stood over me, looking down her nose. She pursed her lips. “See? This is why I don’t hang with girls. You breathe on them wrong and they act like they’re dying. So dramatic.” And then, ignoring my wide, pleading eyes, she grabbed Leo’s hand and dragged him out for a night of bar-hopping. Because they didn’t call for help in time, I was left paralyzed. Eventually, I died. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on that same day. The day he got the moldy granola bars. This time, I pretended I didn’t see the mold at all. *** **1** “What are you staring at? It’s not every day I grace you mortals with my baking skills. The least you could do is gobble it down and thank me.” That was Gina, her voice a sharp prod in the quiet room. Leo’s ears went red, and he had a weird, flustered look on his face. Me? I was still in a daze, sitting there like a statue, my mind struggling to catch up. “Maya, you gonna stare a hole through it, or are you going to eat one? What, you think my cooking is beneath you?” I balled my fists in my lap, looking down to hide the hatred burning in my eyes. The silence got awkward. Leo finally spoke up to defend me. “Hey, lay off her. Maya’s been sick the last couple of days, just picking fights over nothing. It’s been driving me nuts.” Gina let out a sharp curse, then leaned in so close I could feel her breath on my face. “Wait, you guys haven’t been fighting about… me, have you?” she asked, a smirk playing on her lips. “We’re just bros. God, she’s so insecure. I can’t.” I shot up from the couch, tossed the granola bar I was holding onto the coffee table, and fled to the bathroom. The cold water felt like a shock against my skin. I looked in the mirror and pinched my cheek, hard. It hurt. A lot. It wasn’t a dream. I was really back. And this time, I wouldn’t stop a single damn soul on their way to hell. **2** I splashed more cold water on my face, forcing myself to calm down. From the living room, I could hear Gina’s teasing voice. “Alright, spill it. What did your wifey get all worked up about this time? Tell your big sister Gina, I’ll teach you how to handle her.” Leo’s voice was muffled as he explained our fight from a few days ago. “I told her a million times, I only changed my profile pic to your photo because I lost a bet. She won’t believe me. You really screwed me over with that one.” Gina just howled with laughter. When I came out of the bathroom, she was sprawled all over him on the couch, her body pressed against his, no space between them. She didn’t move when she saw me. But Leo tensed up, pushing her away and quickly grabbing a throw pillow to cover his lap. He gave me a weak, forced smile. “Honey, you okay? What happened?” I shook my head. My eyes flicked to the now-empty plate on the table. “Did you eat all the granola bars?” I asked, as if I was just making conversation. Leo practically tripped over himself to explain. “Yeah, I had to. Gina’s such a tomboy, she hardly ever sets foot in a kitchen. I had to show some support, you know?” Gina’s lips curved into a smug grin as she shot me a challenging look. Then she slung an arm around Leo’s neck. “That’s right, buddy. You ate my food, now you owe me. We’re going out drinking tonight, and we’re not coming back ‘til sunrise.” She turned to me. “Sorry, Maya. It’s a bros-only night. No girlfriends allowed. Don’t take it personally.” “Oh,” I said. Then I asked, “So, are you a man or a woman?” Gina rolled her eyes with an exaggerated sigh, then stood up and literally dropped her pants for a second. Three seconds later, she pulled them back up with a smirk. “See? Happy now? I’m basically a dude who got born in the wrong body. None of the guys see me as a girl. If you’ve got a problem, just say it. Don’t play these passive-aggressive games.” I nodded. “You’re right. If there was anything between you two, you would’ve gotten together ages ago. There’d be no room for me.” The smile on Gina’s face froze. Leo looked like he was about to jump to her defense, but I beat him to it. “In that case, I’ve got nothing to worry about. You guys go have fun.” “Just don’t drink too much. And try to come home at a reasonable hour.” Gina shot me a massive eye-roll and yanked Leo towards the door by his collar. **3** I watched them leave. The second the door clicked shut, I bolted to the kitchen, grabbed the biggest knife I could find, and started hacking away at everything in the fridge. I didn’t stop until I was panting, exhausted, and collapsed on the floor. Lying there, staring at the ceiling, I finally felt a moment of release. I bit my lip, silent tears streaming down my face. The last time. The last time, I was lying just like this, my body numb. My consciousness faded in and out as I desperately tried to move, to call for help. But it wasn’t until the next afternoon, after he’d sobered up, that Leo came home and finally took me to the hospital. It was too late. The doctor’s words echoed in my memory: “The intracranial bleeding is extensive and has affected critical areas of the brain. It’s highly likely she’ll have severe conscious impairment. The family needs to prepare for the worst.” Even though my eyes were closed, I was aware. I heard everything. I heard Leo’s broken sobs. I felt him collapse next to my bed, whispering his apologies. “I’m so sorry, honey, it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have done that. Please, wake up. If you just wake up, I’ll never make you angry again.” But as the days turned into weeks, the doctor’s tone changed. “Your wife has likely entered a persistent vegetative state. The chances of her waking up are now significantly lower. If she doesn’t regain consciousness within a month, the prognosis is very poor. You need to be prepared.” This time, Leo seemed to accept the news much faster. That very night, I heard Gina’s voice by my bedside. “Dude, are you really gonna waste your life on her? Think about it. You’ll be her free nurse, wiping her ass, changing her diapers. You won’t be able to hang out with me anymore.” Leo’s laugh was bitter. “We owe her this. I’ll be the one to pay the price.” “What do you mean, *we* owe her?” Gina snapped. “If you ask me, she’d be better off dead. It’d be a relief. If you’re gonna blame me for this, fine. I’ll leave. I’ll get out of your life right now.” I heard her angry footsteps stomp away, then stop. A moment later, someone yanked the privacy curtain around my bed. And then, I heard the sound of their tangled breaths, their soft murmurs, right next to my ear. My heart shattered. **4** During the four years I was a vegetable, Leo and Gina were constantly intimate by my bedside. After being heartbroken countless times, I just went numb. When I heard them discussing stopping my life support, planning to announce their engagement to our friends, the numbness turned to hate. I wanted, more than anything, to wake up and tear their smiling faces to shreds, to make them pay. But the reality was, I was trapped. I couldn’t live, and I couldn’t die. Not until Gina got pregnant. That’s when Leo finally made his decision. In the middle of the night, he quietly pressed a pillow over my face… **5** Once I got some strength back, I sat down on the couch. I checked the date on my phone: 2021. I suddenly remembered something from my time in the hospital bed. I’d overheard a news report on another patient’s radio: “Breaking news, gold prices have hit another record high, now topping over $2,000 an ounce…” The people in the room started talking about it. One woman’s voice was particularly smug. “I got my wedding jewelry back in ‘21. Back then, it was only about $1,700 an ounce. The price has skyrocketed. I’m almost tempted to sell my gold bracelet.” I looked down at the date again. It *was* 2021. Forgetting all about the two scumbags partying at some bar, I felt a surge of excitement for the future. I immediately bought a bus ticket to the city, packed two changes of clothes, and left. In the city’s jewelry district, I spent every cent I had on gold. I didn’t even have enough left for a ticket back. As I was standing on the street corner, wondering what to do next, my phone rang. It was Gina. “Hey. Your husband is wasted. You need to get back here and take care of him.” Her voice was slurred. “It’s so weird, he didn’t even drink that much last night, but he just puked all over me. I’m not gonna bother going home, so I’m just gonna take a shower at your place. And don’t get your panties in a twist. I’ll borrow one of your T-shirts, but I’m not interested in your husband’s fifteen-minute performance.” “Gina, you shut your damn mouth or I’ll show you what a performance really looks like!” Leo’s voice, angry and loud, suddenly cut in. But before he could say more, the line went dead. I smiled to myself. Gee, I wonder. Was he sick from the booze… or from food poisoning? Suddenly, I wasn’t in any hurry to go back. I’d stay away for a while. If I saw their disgusting faces right now, I was afraid I’d grab a knife and ruin my own future. I put my phone away, hoisted the heavy black backpack onto my shoulders, and walked towards a cheap motel down the street. **6** The city had a lot of warehouses that were always hiring temps during the busy season. I found a job with daily pay pretty quickly. After my first shift on the assembly line, I checked my phone. Dozens of missed calls and texts. [Honey, why aren’t you back yet?] [Where did you go?] [I miss you, come home.] [Babe, my stomach really hurts. Where’s that medicine you bought for me last time?] Before I could even finish reading, Leo called again. “Honey, when are you coming home? I feel awful. I think I’m gonna throw up again.” His voice was weak. Weak from being sick, or weak from guilt? Who knew. I sent him my location. “I went out for a bit, but I lost my wallet and my phone. I’m stuck out of town and can’t get back.” I could hear him take a sharp breath. Then he exploded. “Maya, are you an idiot? How do you lose something that important? Did you lose your brain, too? Just taking off like that without a word, who are you trying to scare?” I held the phone away from my ear. When I hung up, I blocked his number. I gave it a day. The next evening, after getting paid and treating myself to some decent takeout, I got a call from an unknown number. It was him. “Honey, can you please stop this?” His voice was pleading. “I feel really, really sick. Please, I’m begging you, just come home.” I took a slow bite of my food. “Isn’t Gina there to take care of you?” I asked innocently. “You guys are best friends, after all.” “Is that what this is about? Her? I told you, we’re just friends! You’re my wife! I paid for that whole damn wedding, shouldn’t you be the one taking care of me?” He was losing his patience. “I’m giving you 12 hours to show up here. Or else…” He hung up, trying to sound tough. I felt nothing. I finished my dinner and went back to my room for a good night’s sleep. On the third day, I handed in my phone at the start of my shift and got back to work. When I got paid for the three days, I realized I had enough to buy another gram of gold. But I resisted the urge. Instead, I bought a bus ticket home. **7** After a few hours on a bus with rock-hard seats, I was home. I pushed open the bedroom door. Leo was still in bed. And as I got closer, I saw there was someone else in there with him. I took out my phone, snapped a quick picture of the two of them, and posted it to my social media. Caption: [So grateful to Gina for taking such good care of my husband while I was gone these past three days. You’re a true friend 🙏.] No one liked the post. I took the groceries I’d bought on the way home and went to the kitchen. I was on the second dish when Gina wandered in, drawn by the sounds of cooking. “Whoa, look who’s back. Leo was about to lose his mind looking for you. That whole ‘running away from home’ trick was pretty good. Which novel did you get that from?” I kept my eyes on the sizzling beef in the pan and smiled sweetly. “It’s fine. Leo loves my cooking. Once he eats, he’ll probably forget he was ever mad.” I turned my head just in time to see the thoughtful, calculating look on her face. **8** When the food was on the table, Leo finally got out of bed. He was clutching his stomach, glaring at me from across the room. “What are you even doing back here?” I went to the medicine cabinet and got him an ibuprofen. He took it, and a few minutes later, the tense lines on his forehead started to relax. “You always know what to do,” he said, his tone softening. “Alright, I’ll let it slide this time. But if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I won’t forgive you so easily.” I smiled, my eyes flicking over to Gina. I put a piece of beef on Leo’s plate. “I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I was just so angry that day. Here, try some of your favorite cilantro beef.” Now that his stomach felt better, Leo dug in with gusto. This, apparently, was too much for Gina to watch. She suddenly made a series of loud spitting noises, hacking up a piece of chewed beef onto the table. “Dude, I’m not trying to be a bitch, but you could do better. I could make something better than this with my feet.” An awkward expression flashed across Leo’s face. He shook his head at me and pointed to his own temple, mouthing the word “crazy.” I just smiled at him. Gina saw our silent exchange and it was the last straw. She flew into a rage and tried to flip the dining room table. But the table was solid wood and didn’t budge. Flushed with embarrassment, she stormed towards the door. “Fine, fine! You both think I’m crazy, right? I’ll go! I’ll disappear! Is that what you want?” The words sounded familiar. I turned and saw my husband rush after her, grabbing her hand. A sharp pain stabbed me in the chest. I remembered now. This little act—playing the victim, turning the tables, leaving in a huff only to be begged to stay—was the exact move that had sealed their “special friendship” the last time around. Calling it a friendship, while doing things that screamed affair. Kissing by the bedside of his comatose wife. The irony was sickening. **9** By the time I tuned back in, Leo had already dragged Gina back to her seat. After a barrage of soothing words from him, she lifted her chin again, arrogant as ever. “Look, I’m not bragging, but your wife’s cooking is average at best. This weekend is your birthday. I’ll cook for you. Then you’ll see what real food tastes like.” Leo laughed and agreed immediately. Gina looked at me triumphantly. “In that case, we’ll just have the party at my place. Maya, you can come over early and be my assistant.” I shook my head. “No, that’s okay. You guys should just celebrate. I’d just be a third wheel.” Gina clicked her tongue, her tone aggressive. “You can just leave after you’re done helping in the kitchen. Don’t you even care about your own husband’s birthday? Seriously, what did my boy ever see in you?” I lowered my eyes. Under the table, my thumb ran over the new gold beads on my bracelet. After a moment, I decided to fully support their get-together. In fact, I wanted as many people as possible to witness their very special… friendship. **10** After Gina left, I texted her a long list of dishes I knew Leo liked. She replied with a sticker that said, “Women are so extra.” On the day of the party, Leo got all dressed up. He used gel in his hair, put on a crisp white shirt, and even used some breath spray. Before he left, he asked me one more time. “Are you sure you don’t want to come? They got a two-layer cake. I thought you loved the frosting.” I shook my head again. “It’s just going to be a bunch of guys. I don’t really have anything to talk about with them.” Leo smiled and nodded. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He was already halfway out the door. “I wonder what Gina got me this year. She said it’s something I’m gonna love. She’s so confident.” “Anyway, I’m heading out. I’ll send you a video later so you can see her amazing cooking.” He turned and walked, almost bouncing, into the dim hallway. About two hours later, he sent me a video. The sound was deafening. Gina, wearing a sheer purple top, had her face smeared with cake frosting. She was laughing and swearing at the camera. “You sons of bitches! It took me two hours to do my makeup and you ruined it before I could even get a selfie! Now you all have to lick it off!” For Gina’s punishments, her “bros” were always eager to comply. I switched over to my social media feed and kept refreshing. Sure enough, another one of Leo’s close friends had just posted a new video. In this one, Gina was leaning back on the couch, swearing a blue streak, her arms crossed over her chest, which pushed up her cleavage. Leo, as the birthday boy, was being teased mercilessly by his friends, his face flushed red. At the end of the video, only a thin layer of frosting was left on Gina’s face. She glared at the camera. “Are you guys trying to kill me? If you’ve got so much energy, why don’t you go have a stamina contest with Leo?” The guys around her whooped and hollered. “How do we do that? You gonna test us all out?” “Damn, Gina! You’re not playing fair! You didn’t get us a gift this big on our birthdays!” “Gina’s a legend! Look at Leo, he’s about to explode! Hahahaha!” “Dude, you guys better chill. Leo’s a married man. Maya would freak if she saw this.” The group of friends just laughed and used the chaos as an excuse to grope at Gina. I saved the video and watched it a few times. I paused it at the 0:56 mark and zoomed in on the food on the table. A cold cucumber salad, cilantro beef, BBQ chicken wings, braised ribs, and a pork rib soup. Everything looked… fine. Totally average. A slow smile spread across my face. I called Leo immediately. “Wow, Gina’s cooking actually looks pretty good. You should eat a lot. Don’t let your best friend’s hard work go to waste.” It took him a few minutes to answer. He mumbled a few words and hung up in less than ten seconds. **11** The next morning, I was making coffee when the girlfriend of one of Leo’s friends suddenly contacted me. “Hey, Maya? It’s Megan. Is my boyfriend, Kevin, still at your place?” I paused for a second. “No, he’s not here. They had the birthday party at Gina’s place last night. My husband, Leo, isn’t home yet either.” “That damn Gina again!” Megan sounded furious. “Kevin told me he was going to your house! Of course he went to see *her*. A dog will always go back to its own vomit.” I thought for a moment, then added her as a contact. I sent her the video from the party last night. A few minutes later, Megan added me to a group chat. A few other people joined after me. When there were six of us in the chat, Megan forwarded the two videos and tagged everyone. [@all Who’s free to go bust some cheaters with me right now?] The message was immediately met with a few question marks. But then two other women quickly agreed. Megan dropped Gina’s address in the chat and told everyone to meet at the apartment complex gate in an hour. Something this good? Of course I wasn’t going to miss it. **12** An hour later, I met Megan in person. She had a sharp black bob, a simple black t-shirt, and tight jeans. When she saw me pull up, her eyes narrowed. “You here for Gina?” I nodded. “I’m Maya. Leo’s my husband.” The suspicion in Megan’s eyes faded, and she immediately launched into a rant about Gina. “Remember that stupid ‘three best friends’ challenge on TikTok? She posted a video and tagged my boyfriend and a bunch of other guys, talking about how her ‘bros’ are closer than family. How they all slept crammed into one room for six months when they were broke. How it’s been ten years, and even though they all have girlfriends or are married, she just has to say the word and they’ll all come running.” Megan let out a bitter laugh. “And I was the idiot who didn’t see the massive red flag waving in my face.” She looked at me with a sort of pity in her eyes. “I’m going up there and dumping Kevin’s ass. What about you, Maya?” I managed a weak, sad smile. “I haven’t decided yet. I’ll see how it goes.” Megan looked like she wanted to say something else, opening her mouth a few times, but then she just shook her head. She was probably going to tell me to get a divorce. But divorce means paperwork. A waiting period. It’s so much trouble. And besides, there might be a better way. **13** Once the other two women arrived, our little group went up and started knocking on Gina’s door. No one answered. Finally, Megan found a spare key under the doormat and we let ourselves in. The second we opened the door, we were hit with a wall of stale smoke and booze. Three or four guys were passed out on the floor and couches in the living room. Megan walked over to her boyfriend and stared down at him like he was something she’d scraped off her shoe. “Kevin. Are you dead? Get your ass up. Now.” The other women went to find their own boyfriends, their faces grim. I didn’t see Leo in the living room. I was about to check the master bedroom when someone behind me let out a piercing scream. “Ah!” I spun around. One of the women, the one in a yellow jacket, was clutching Megan in terror. Megan looked completely bewildered. “What? What’s wrong?” The woman in yellow was shaking uncontrollably. “He’s… he’s dead.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “385172”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After my mother married a titan of industry, my new stepbrother and his pack of trust-fund princes formed what they called “The Tribunal.” Their mission was to expose me. To bait me into cheating on a fictitious boyfriend, then tear away my mask of innocence. “She’s not my sister,” I heard him ranting to them over the phone. “Don’t let the innocent act fool you. She’s been around the block more times than you can count.” “A girl like that is cheap,” one of his friends chimed in. “No class. You could whisper a few sweet nothings and she’d roll over like a puppy.” A slow smile spread across my lips. I scheduled a meeting with the one who sounded the most pliable, the youngest of the princelings. “Do you think they’re too big?” I asked, my voice a soft murmur. The handsome boy stared at me, his face flushing a deep crimson. “No. They’re… great.” I moved behind him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, my voice laced with a practiced melancholy. “I’ve been self-conscious my whole life because of my body,” I whispered. “People can be so cruel. But you’re not like them, are you? You’ll protect me, won’t you?” He stammered, his voice cracking. “Yeah. I will.” Virgins. So wonderfully easy to mold. Later, his back ramrod straight, he announced to his friends that he was going to be my fiancé. The Tribunal imploded. “Carter! What the hell is wrong with you? Betraying us like that?” “I was supposed to be the one to seduce her! What are you doing proposing?” 1 I was born beautiful. That, combined with good grades, meant I’d been the center of attention since kindergarten. But my mother always had one piece of advice for me: “You need to smile less.” I’d ask her why. “An easy smile,” she’d say, “is an open invitation for cheap men.” If my gorgeous mother so much as accidentally smiled at a man, they’d swarm her like flies. I was the opposite of my mother. I always had a smile on my face. And anyone who ever crossed me would find themselves facing my retribution, delivered from the shadows, with a smile. Then, my mother found my long-lost biological father—a bona fide tycoon—and we moved into his world. That world included a stepbrother I could have done without, Liam. The moment we met, we both knew we were destined to be enemies. He mouthed two words at me from across the grand foyer: “You’re fake.” Then, with a smirk, “Watch me fix you.” I just smiled back, all innocence. 2 That night, Liam burst into my room. He was holding a dead mouse by the tail, which he flung onto my bed with a triumphant grin. He wanted to see me scream. To see me panic. My reflexes were faster. In one fluid motion, I snatched the dead rodent and shoved it down the front of his designer jeans. Then, clad in my silk robe, my feet bare, I ran screaming into my parents’ bedroom. I pitched my voice high, forcing tears. “Liam was spying on me in the shower!” In a family of this stature, even the hint of incestuous scandal is poison. My father, seeing my tear-streaked face, turned a shade of purple. He grabbed the nearest heavy object—a golf club from the corner—and laid into Liam’s backside. “If you ever pull a stunt like this with your sister again, you’re out of this house!” Later, after our parents had left, Liam stood there, his rear end probably swollen to twice its size. He glared at me, his voice a low hiss. “You just wait.” He immediately got on the phone with his friends to vent. “The mistress’s daughter can’t be anything but trash. I’m going to get them both kicked out of this house!” “Don’t let the innocent act fool you. She’s probably slept with half the city!” “She’s in art school—that’s like, a hundred grand a year. Where do you think she got that money?” As Liam spoke, his voice echoed from two places: his room down the hall, and the speaker of my own phone. On my first day in this house, I’d installed a listening app on his phone. Every secret they plotted, every move they planned, was laid bare before me. A text from one of them popped up. [Rhys: I get it. The purer they look on the outside, the dirtier they are underneath.] Rhys was the group’s resident playboy. Handsome, ridiculously wealthy, and a constant feature in gossip columns. He was a staunch bachelor, a silver ring permanently fixed on his left pinky finger as a symbol of his commitment to being non-committal. At his suggestion, the boys officially formed “The Tribunal” and drafted a battle plan. Rhys was the chief strategist. His persona for this operation: the reformed rake, a wild man ready to be tamed by one special woman—me. It was a role he’d used to devastating effect on countless women before. He was confident his plan was foolproof. Meanwhile, Rhys’s best friend, Ethan, was cast as the sweet, younger guy who falls for me at first sight. His job was to make a move while Rhys was supposedly winning my heart. The moment I took Ethan’s bait, my stepbrother Liam would lead a charge to catch us in the act. Then, Ethan would turn on me, accusing me of playing them both, and produce photographic evidence that would utterly destroy my reputation. They saw themselves as arbiters of justice. They had sworn an oath to help Liam drive the conniving mother-daughter duo out of their home for good. 3 Rhys spent a month wooing me online, meticulously mapping my likes and dislikes. In our chats, he’d casually drop hints about his family’s immense fortune. He got my address and a parade of luxury goods began arriving at my door. A sweet-talking, wealthy playboy, offering himself up on a silver platter? Of course, I wasn’t going to say no. [Rhys: She’s so clueless. I sent her a bag from last season and she acted like it was Christmas.] Liam, playing the diligent wingman, brought me to a party at Rhys’s villa. The air was thick with smug anticipation. A coterie of insiders watched me, their eyes glinting with schadenfreude, waiting for the trap to spring. This was a hunt, and I was the prey. A host in a clown mask stood in the center of the grand hall. Suddenly, the villa plunged into darkness. “Power outage?” I feigned panic, reaching out and grabbing a hand I assumed was Liam’s. But I knew instantly it wasn’t. My fingers brushed against something hard and cool. A man’s ring. Liam never wore rings. A sophisticated, woodsy cologne filled the air around me—it smelled expensive. At the same time, the clown’s voice echoed through the darkness: “The loser of our last party game must kiss a member of the opposite sex for one full minute.” Whispers erupted around me. “Wasn’t Rhys the one who lost? I thought he had a rule about not kissing women.” I felt the person next to me lean closer, and a small smile touched my lips. So many girlfriends, yet he pretends he doesn’t kiss anyone. Such a hypocrite. There was nothing I despised more than someone who was a bigger phony than I was. I kept up my act, feigning nervousness. I sensed him dipping his head toward me. I tilted my chin up, meeting him halfway. His lips were soft, wet. The kiss was clumsy, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. I frowned internally. Why is he so green? Doesn’t he even know how to kiss? But then, another hand, firm and practiced, wrapped around my waist. Shit. I kissed the wrong one. This must be Rhys. I bit down lightly on the stranger’s lower lip. He let out a muffled grunt. I heard Rhys curse under his breath, a sharp, “Fuck.” Then, he yanked me forcefully into his arms. The lights flickered back on. 4 Rhys’s face was a thundercloud. He stared at the glistening moisture on my lips, his cold eyes scanning the room. His suspicious gaze finally landed on Ethan, who was staring intently at the floor. I stood there, blinking, my face a perfect mask of pure, wide-eyed innocence. “The new girlfriend is gorgeous, Rhys. You two look perfect together.” “Damn, that must be true love. I’ve never seen Rhys kiss a girl so hard he bruised her lips.” The crowd was playing its part, their voices dripping with cheerful praise. Rhys, already seething, felt his face darken further at their words. Because he knew perfectly well he wasn’t the one who had just kissed me. But he quickly shifted gears, his expression melting into one of tender affection. He took my hand and led me to a plush sofa. He was determined to conquer me tonight, so no matter how furious he was, he had to swallow it. There were two men in the room who stood out from the rest. Rhys, seated to my right, and Ethan, across from me. Both were easily over six feet tall. The man who had kissed me in the dark was about that height. Ethan’s role in the plan was to swoop in and seduce me after Rhys and I were “together,” during a manufactured rough patch. As a co-conspirator, it was logical for Rhys to suspect him of jumping the gun. Noticing Rhys’s glare, Ethan looked up, confused. I, seated beside Rhys, offered Ethan a small, sweet smile. He instinctively returned it with a brilliant, boyish grin. A flash of fury crossed Rhys’s eyes. His grip on my hand tightened. I scanned the room again. Besides those two, there was one other man who was just as tall. His back was to us as he headed for the second-floor staircase. Broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and legs that seemed to go on forever. His proportions were perfect. A shame I couldn’t see his face. Liam let out a cold laugh, leaning close to my ear. “Don’t even think about it. That’s Carter Monroe. He’s way out of your league.” “If Rhys didn’t have a thing for you, I never would have brought you here. I have no idea what he sees in you, anyway.” Liam was working hard, using reverse psychology to play his part as Rhys’s wingman. The other actors in the room chimed in on cue. “We’ve never seen Rhys fall for a girl this hard.” The mood lighting shifted, and the loud party music faded into a soft, romantic ballad. Rhys took the silver ring from his pinky—his symbol of eternal bachelorhood—and pressed it into my palm. His gaze was intense, his eyes full of feigned adoration. Another round of cheers and whistles erupted from the crowd. The atmosphere was intoxicatingly romantic, far more effective than a straightforward confession of love. Any other girl would have been blushing, her heart pounding. I simply sat there, a placid smile on my face, accepting every ounce of affection Rhys directed my way. Believing he had already won, a flicker of boredom crossed Rhys’s face, his eyes turning cold and distant for a split second. I watched his micro-expressions, then produced a perfectly timed blush. I tugged on his sleeve and whispered, just loud enough for him to hear, “That was my first kiss.” The triumphant look on Rhys’s face instantly curdled. He shot a cold, mocking glare at Ethan, who was still preening like a peacock, flashing smiles in my direction. I excused myself to the restroom. My phone lit up. [Rhys: @Liam, I thought you said your sister had a ton of boyfriends? She just told me that was her first kiss.] [Liam: She’s faking it, obviously. Probably just like you, claiming you’re a virgin after a hundred girlfriends.] [Rhys: Fuck you—I actually am!] A moment later, Rhys’s last message was deleted. After scrolling through their chat, I opened my own messages, finding a conversation from before I’d arrived at the villa. A kind soul had sent me an anonymous warning. [Unknown Number: Don’t go. It’s a setup.] I’d replied with the ramblings of a girl hopelessly in love. [Sienna: Rhys is so good to me. He really loves me. To be honest, I wasn’t that into him at first, but… that was my first kiss tonight. I think I’m falling for him. His kissing technique is a little clumsy, though. Hasn’t he ever watched a tutorial or something?] As I stepped out of the restroom, a tall man in a black casual suit was standing there, a scowl on his handsome, aloof face as he stared at his phone. Then he looked up at me. I saw that his lower lip was split. And I recognized that expensive, woodsy scent. 5 I take back what I said about Rhys and Ethan being the most handsome men in the room. The man in front of me was beautiful. He had sharp, phoenix-like eyes that held a natural coolness when his face was at rest. Right now, however, they were clouded with a mixture of shame and anger that softened their icy edge. And, I noted, his ass was better than Liam’s. Carter Monroe seemed to find my gaze overly bold. His lips pressed into a tight line. I adjusted my own expression, summoning the wide-eyed, innocent smile I’d practiced in the mirror a thousand times. “Your lip… it looks like you’re hurt.” The coldness in his eyes intensified. He gave me a long, deep look, then strode away. I watched him go, noticing he was walking stiffly, almost marching, and he stumbled slightly on the stairs. Liam’s sharp eyes caught us emerging from the same hallway. He was already typing in their group chat. [Liam: Whoa, did she just try to hit on Carter Monroe in the five minutes she was in the bathroom? He’s not interested in women. She can forget it.] [Ethan: Rhys, you kissed her pretty hard. You better not get too attached before it’s my turn.] [Rhys: Who cares about her? She’s just a gold digger. Do whatever you want, just make it quick. Don’t wait too long, or she’ll actually fall in love with me and you won’t even get a taste.] [Ethan: That confident, huh?] [Rhys: Fuck off! Go be the other man. And don’t forget to take pictures for proof.] 6 Rhys excused himself to take a call, a deliberate move to leave the stage clear for me and Ethan. I went out to the balcony for some air. Ethan, wearing a white shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal his collarbones, radiated a vibrant, collegiate energy as he approached me. “Sienna,” he said, his voice earnest. “Please don’t fall for Rhys. He’s had so many girlfriends. He’s not a good guy.” Ethan, like Rhys, had a flexible relationship with morals and ethics. They would do anything to achieve their goals. He leaned in close, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. “I don’t care if you like other guys, Sienna. If you’re with me, my house, my cars… they’re all yours.” He produced a bracelet from his pocket. I recognized it as a new piece from Cartier’s collection, worth well over a hundred thousand dollars. Except this one was a fake. Before I could refuse, he had fastened it onto my wrist. I have to admit, Ethan had a real talent for being the other man. I thought it, so I said it. Hearing the compliment, Ethan’s face froze. I slipped the bracelet off. “If you want to land a sugar mama, your looks are a good start. But you don’t need to pretend you’re rich and pass off knockoffs.” The realization that I thought he was the gold digger sent a wave of crimson across his face. He snatched the rejected bracelet, his voice rising in indignation. “I spent a ton of money on this! How can it be a fake?” Then, right before his eyes, he saw that the contact for the “private shopper” he’d used had blocked and deleted him. He stared, stunned, for three seconds, then pointed an accusing finger at me. “Even if I were looking for a sponsor, I wouldn’t choose you! I know you don’t have any real money. The family fortune is all going to Liam!” I sat back in the wicker swing, leisurely watching his performance. When he mentioned the inheritance, a small smile played on my lips. Ethan glared, defiant. “Am I wrong?” I gently stroked his cheek. “Do you know why Liam has never been the favorite in our family? Because his mother was the other woman. She broke up my parents, which is why my mom took me and ran away.” His eyes widened. This was the complete opposite of the story they’d been told. In their narrative, I was the daughter of the mistress. I continued, my voice soft and fragile. “But Liam is innocent in all this, of course. So we never pursued it. My parents were the ‘it’ couple back in college. There are tons of photos. It’s easy enough to verify.” “Love can’t have impurities. So many men have confessed their feelings for me, but they’re all so… phony. So boring. But Rhys… Rhys is different. He’s interesting.” “But after meeting him tonight, I realize he’s not what I imagined. It feels like… he doesn’t love me as much as I thought.” The sheer volume of new information left Ethan stunned and speechless. I tapped the tip of his nose with my finger. “Don’t look for shortcuts, little brother. You should focus on your studies.” I slipped off my painfully high stilettos and ignored him, sitting alone on the swing. Melancholy. Lonely. It was another one of my favorite roles to play. Ethan was young. Girls his age, full of life and energy, were a dime a dozen. To catch someone like him, I couldn’t just play the innocent little girl like I did for Rhys. I had to add a little color, a little mystery, to pique his curiosity. And once a man becomes curious about a woman… He’s already lost. 7 Ethan plopped down next to me, making the swing rock. His mission was to seduce me into cheating. He wasn’t going to give up and go home just yet. I turned my head to look at him as a breeze blew past, sending a lock of my carefully styled hair brushing against his cheek. His eyes darted around for a moment. He decided to fully embrace the “poor college student” persona and shot back a question. “Sienna, being an artist is expensive. Did you ever… you know… take any shortcuts to get by?” “I mean, a girl as beautiful as you… you must have had a lot of boyfriends, right?” He fired off two questions, his tone laced with an acidity he didn’t even seem to notice. I let out a soft laugh. He bristled again. “What’s so funny? I was just asking.” I watched him, amused. Ethan looked away, uncomfortable. Then, realizing he was losing ground, he stubbornly met my gaze again. My eyes crinkled into a smile. “Shortcuts? Didn’t you do your homework before you started pursuing me?” “That painting that sold for over a million at auction last year? I painted that to pay for my tuition.” Ethan’s immediate reaction was disbelief. Liam had told him I was nothing but a vapid, pretentious fraud. When I told him the name of the painting, his disbelief turned to shock. “But the artist of that piece was some old man who died three years ago!” I smiled, tapping his forehead gently. “Silly. It was a made-up identity. Just a bit of marketing flair. Who cares about the details? After all, a painting is always worth more after the artist is dead.” “As for ex-boyfriends… I’m beautiful. It’s only normal that a lot of men have pursued me.” “Or do you not think I’m beautiful enough?” I leaned closer, close enough to see my own reflection in his pupils. Physical proximity is a shortcut to intimacy. Suddenly, Ethan couldn’t meet my eyes. His Adam’s apple bobbed. His gaze darted away. He was clutching the fake bracelet so tightly his knuckles were white. He had genuinely believed it was real, just bought carelessly from a random contact without a second thought. I sighed, taking the bracelet from his hand and slipping it onto my own wrist. “I accept the sentiment.” Even as a fake, the bracelet caught the faint light of the evening, glinting on my wrist. Against my obviously well-cared-for skin, it looked particularly garish. Ethan watched me, his gaze deep and searching. Finally, he spoke. “I’ll buy you a real one someday.” I didn’t take him seriously. “Don’t worry about it,” I said languidly. “Instead, you could help me put my shoes back on. I’m tired today. I don’t feel like moving.” Without hesitation, Ethan knelt down and took my foot in his hand. When he saw the raw, bloody scrape on my heel, his voice was sharp with displeasure. “Why would you wear shoes like this? Your feet are torn up.” I replied lightly, “All of Rhys’s ex-girlfriends wear high heels. I thought he might like it.” The hand holding my foot froze. Ethan stood up, his voice stiff. “If you’re tired, then don’t walk. I’ll carry you back.” Fearing I might refuse, he quickly added, “Don’t worry, we can use a side entrance. No one will see. I know this place well.” In his concern, he’d slipped up. He forgot he was supposed to be a poor college student and revealed his intimate familiarity with a multi-million dollar mansion. I didn’t call him on it. I closed my eyes, feigning exhaustion. When he set me down in a quiet lounge, a pair of soft slippers had replaced my heels. He’d gotten them from a maid. [Rhys: It’s been forever. Where are you? Where is she?] Ethan sent a photo of me, asleep on the sofa. He was a decent photographer; he’d made me look beautiful. [Rhys: Ha. A classic gold digger. Won’t even take off a hundred-thousand-dollar bracelet when she’s sleeping. You really went all out, man. The bag I bought her was only like, twenty grand.] Ethan didn’t mention what had really happened. He just vaguely agreed with Rhys. [Ethan: So, according to the plan, you’re going to start giving her the cold shoulder in a few days so I can move in, right?] [Rhys: Yep. Tomorrow, you guys stay out of it. I’m going to her art studio. Time to play with my little artist.] Ethan pressed him for details, but Rhys was deliberately vague, his reply dripping with sarcasm. [Why all the questions? Did she get to you? Forgetting who your friends are?] Ethan immediately went silent. Until he had more information, he wouldn’t dare reveal his hand. I smirked, watching these conniving little boys, each with their own agenda. It was time to raise the stakes.

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For three years, Ethan and I were bound by the “Fifty-Fifty Couple” System. When we went out to eat, I paid for my meal, he paid for his. Movie tickets were split down the middle, and the popcorn was divided kernel by kernel. Then he was diagnosed with end-stage renal failure. He needed a new kidney. The System chimed in: [Surgical procedure estimated at $500,000. Host Audrey is required to pay fifty percent.] I had five thousand dollars in my bank account. Lying in his hospital bed, Ethan squeezed my hand gently. “Audrey, it’s okay if you don’t have the money.” “I looked it up. A kidney on the black market goes for about two hundred and fifty thousand.” He gazed at me, his eyes full of a terrifying tenderness. “You love me that much, don’t you? Of course you do.” I looked into his devoted eyes and smiled. So this was it. The grand finale of the three-year-long marital obedience test. 1 A cold, mechanical voice echoed in my mind, sterile and sharp. [Detecting a required kidney transplant for partner Ethan Vance. Total cost: $500,000.] [In accordance with the Fifty-Fifty principle, Host Audrey Miller must contribute fifty percent of the total, amounting to $250,000.] [Please complete the payment within seven days, or the penalty protocol will be initiated.] I stared at my banking app. The balance—$5,321.80—seemed to mock me, my fingers growing numb and cold. Three years. Three years since Ethan and I had gotten together. We’d met in college. He’d asked me out right after graduation, his confession full of earnest, soulful promises. He told me he was searching for a love that was pure, perfectly equal, untainted by the vulgarity of money. And then it appeared: the “Fifty-Fifty Couple” System. It bound us together the moment I said yes. At first, I thought it was a sign, a testament to our progressive, modern love. Rent was split exactly in half. Utilities were calculated down to the cent. The electric razor I bought him for his birthday cost $89.99. The lipstick he gave me for mine was $94.50. I had to Venmo him the $2.26 difference. I used to think it was charming, a quirk of our relationship. Only now did I realize it wasn’t a quirk. It was a cage. Ethan lay propped against the sterile white pillows, his face pale, but his smile was as gentle as ever. He took my hand, his palm warm and dry against my own icy skin. “Audrey, don’t be scared.” “It’s okay if you don’t have the money.” I lifted my head, my gaze falling into the same deep brown eyes I had once drowned in. “I looked it up,” he said, his voice soft. “A kidney on the black market goes for about two hundred and fifty thousand.” My heart stopped. Just for a second, it simply ceased to beat. He reached up, stroking my cheek with his thumb. His tone was intimate, full of the tender persuasion I knew so well. “You love me that much, don’t you? Of course you do.” He said it so matter-of-factly, like he was asking if I wanted pasta or pizza for dinner. I stared at him, and a slow, cold smile spread across my face. So that’s what this was. This wasn’t about some bullshit principle of equality. This entire three-year, meticulously calculated relationship had been one long, elaborate obedience test. And the final exam had just been handed out. He wasn’t asking for my money. He was asking for a piece of my body to prove that I loved him. 2 “Ethan, are you serious?” My own voice was a tremor, and I couldn’t tell if it was from rage or fear. A small frown creased his brow, a flicker of annoyance at my question. “Audrey, we’ve been together for three years. My life is literally in your hands.” He let out a soft, pained sigh. “Was it all a lie? Everything we had?” He began to cough, a weak, theatrical sound, leaning back against the pillows as if another question from me might just finish him off. Just then, the hospital room door flew open. Ethan’s mother, Carol, blew in like a storm front. She didn’t even glance at me, rushing straight to the bedside to grab Ethan’s other hand. “Ethan, honey! How are you feeling? What did the doctor say?” “I’m fine, Mom.” He patted her hand, but his eyes darted toward me. “It’s just… Audrey. I don’t think she’s willing.” Carol’s gaze snapped to me, sharp and venomous. “Audrey, what is your problem?” she hissed. “Ethan is dying, and you’re hesitating?” “It’s only two hundred and fifty thousand dollars! Do you have any idea how much time and effort my son has invested in you over the past three years? How do you even begin to calculate that?” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Carol, we split everything fifty-fifty. He hasn’t spent an extra dime on me.” “Bullshit!” Her voice was shrill. “He let you cook and clean for him! That was a privilege, a chance for you to prove your worth!” “He let you move into our building and only charged you half the rent! Do you know how many women would kill for a chance to pay to be near him?” She jabbed a finger in my direction, her face contorted with fury. “My son is a catch! Being with you was the biggest blessing of your life!” “And now, when he needs you to save him, you drag your feet! What’s one kidney? You women have two of them! You won’t die if you lose one!” she shrieked. “We’ve taken care of you for three years. Think of it as repaying a debt!” Repaying a debt? I was the one who rushed home from my job every single day to shop, cook, and clean for the two of them. I was the one who served Ethan his dinner while he sat on the couch, controller in hand, screaming at a video game. Carol had never so much as washed a single dish, accepting my unpaid labor as her royal due. This was the “debt” they spoke of. Watching the two of them, one playing the victim, the other the aggressor, their routine so perfectly rehearsed, it all finally clicked into place. I wasn’t Ethan’s girlfriend. I was a pre-ordered organ donor. A live-in, unpaid housekeeper. And it was time for them to collect. Ethan, ever the gentle manipulator, added his soft appeal. “Mom, don’t say that. Audrey’s just having a hard time processing.” He turned back to me, his eyes filled with a carefully measured dose of disappointment and pleading. “Audrey. Please, just do this for me. For us.” I watched his performance, a sheet of ice forming around my heart. I took a deep, steadying breath. Then, I looked at him, at his mother, and gave them the brightest, most brilliant smile I could muster. “Okay.”

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Part 1 My boyfriend, Leo, had been pulling crazy hours at work lately. I missed him, but I was also proud of how hard he was working. I’d just finished packing up some of the chili I’d made, planning to surprise him at the office, when my phone buzzed. It was a text from Leo. “I have a girlfriend. Please delete my number. Thanks.” For a second, I almost laughed. That idiot. Points for loyalty, I guess, but… why was he sending this to me? I typed a single question mark and hit send. A moment later, I saw it. The dreaded red exclamation point. “Message Not Delivered.” He’d blocked me. My boyfriend has a girlfriend, and it isn’t me. So… who the hell am I? My temper, which has the fuse of a firecracker, went off. I immediately dialed his number, my thumb jabbing the screen. Before I could even launch into my tirade, a syrupy sweet female voice answered. “Hello?” There was actually another woman with him. For a split second, my brain short-circuited. I couldn’t believe it. Leo was the type of guy who practically wore a sign that said “TAKEN.” He kept a professional distance from everyone, even his male colleagues. And now some woman was answering his phone? “Where’s Leo? Put him on,” I said, my voice cold and tight. A condescending little laugh came from the other end. “Oh, you’re looking for Leo? He’s a little… busy right now.” “Put. Him. On. The. Phone,” I repeated, practically shouting into the receiver. “Listen, honey,” she cooed, “a little self-respect goes a long way. Chasing after a man with a girlfriend is just… desperate, you know?” Then she giggled and hung up. If I was angry before, now I was furious. I grabbed my keys, stormed out of my apartment, and peeled out of the parking garage, heading straight for his downtown office. If this jerk thought he could cheat on me, he had another thing coming. He was about to find out what “consequences” really meant. It was just after 9 p.m. The city lights reflected off the sleek glass of the Hayes Tech tower. The entire building was dark except for the top floor—his floor. The lobby was empty aside from Frank, the night security guard, who looked up in surprise. “Ms. Miller! Here to pick up Mr. Hayes?” I didn’t answer, just strode past him and into the elevator, jabbing the button for the penthouse level. The ride up was eerily silent, but as the doors slid open on the top floor, I could hear the low murmur of voices. I stormed toward his office, the words of my accusation already forming on my lips, and burst through the door. And stopped dead. The room was full. His entire executive team was gathered around the conference table, looking at blueprints and charts. A dozen pairs of eyes swiveled to stare at me, their conversation cut short. My throat went dry. But even in my shock, my eyes scanned the room and landed on her. Tucked away in a corner chair, almost out of sight, was a woman who looked completely out of place. She was wearing one of Leo’s blazers, and a smug, knowing smile played on her lips as she looked at me. “Chloe? What are you doing here?” Leo asked, surprised. He jumped up from his seat and started toward me. He must have seen the thundercloud on my face, because his expression shifted from surprise to alarm, and he quickened his pace. But he was too late. The woman from the corner shot out of her chair, moving to intercept him. She physically planted herself between us. “Excuse me,” she said, her voice dripping with fake politeness. “We’re in a private meeting. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” She smiled and gestured toward the door, a clear dismissal. I gave her a look that could freeze fire and ignored her completely. My eyes went past her, locking onto Leo. “Do I need to leave, Leo?” “Of course not,” he said, sidestepping her with a move so agile he could’ve been a ninja. He reached for my hand, but I pulled it away. The hurt in his eyes was instant. “Chloe? What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice low and cautious. “Nothing. Finish your meeting,” I said, my tone flat. Leo glanced back at his team, then gently tried to guide me further into the office, toward the empty chair next to his. As we passed the woman, he didn’t even give her a second look. “Leo, who is this woman?” she interrupted, her voice sharp with indignation. “This is a confidential company meeting. It’s hardly appropriate for her to be here.” Leo finally stopped and frowned at her as if just noticing she existed. “Jessica? What are you still doing here?” Her smile faltered. “I… I was staying to help you with the meeting, Leo.” “Help me with what? My executive assistant isn’t even required to be here tonight. You’re her assistant. What are you doing in this room?” His tone was sharp, and it didn’t sound like an act. So, this woman had been sitting in his office for who knows how long, and he hadn’t even realized it? The other people in the room exchanged confused glances. “Leo, I…” Jessica’s eyes welled up, and her voice trembled. “This whole floor was empty except for your office. I was scared being out there alone, so… so I waited in here for you.” An assistant’s assistant. And she was calling him “Leo” and “waiting for him.” Yeah, something was definitely up. I crossed my arms and shot a pointed look at Leo. He seemed to feel the heat of my glare and stood up a little straighter. “Chloe, I swear, I have nothing to do with her. My dad made me give her a job here as a favor to an old neighbor.” Then he turned back to Jessica, his voice turning to ice. “Jessica, you said you had nothing to do after hours, so you offered to cover my assistant’s duties tonight. If you’re here to work, then go do your actual job. And stay out of places you don’t belong.” He waved a hand dismissively, gesturing for her to get out. Jessica looked stunned that he’d humiliate her in front of everyone. She stood frozen for a second before pointing a trembling finger at me. “Then what about her? She doesn’t belong here either! Why does she get to stay?” Leo gave her a dead-eyed stare. He didn’t bother explaining. He just said one word: “Out.” The color drained from Jessica’s face. She turned on her heel and fled the office. “I didn’t even notice she was in here during the meeting,” Leo explained quietly, pulling me into the seat beside him. I just nodded, telling him to get back to work. His team, to their credit, pretended like my dramatic entrance was a totally normal occurrence and resumed the meeting. An hour later, when everyone had finally packed up and left, I pulled out my phone and placed it on the desk in front of Leo, the screen showing our one-sided, blocked conversation. “Explain,” I said. My initial rage had cooled into a frosty calm, which was somehow worse. Leo’s eyes widened as he read the text. He put a hand on my shoulder, his expression deadly serious. “Chloe, just wait here. I will handle this.” He walked briskly out of the office. I was right behind him. I saw him spot Jessica by the elevators and stride over to her. He didn’t raise his voice. He just held out his hand. “Give me my phone back.” Part 2 Jessica flinched at his cold tone. She wobbled slightly, then slowly pulled his phone from her pocket, holding it out with both hands. Her eyes were wide and pitiful, trying for a wounded, doe-eyed look. Leo snatched the phone from her, immediately navigated to his blocked list, and his face turned a shade of thunderous purple I’d never seen before. I stepped closer to see what was wrong. Oh. My. God. It wasn’t just me. His blocked list was a who’s who of our social and professional circle—all female. I recognized the names of several CEOs and project managers from companies he partnered with. “What gives you the right to touch my phone?” he seethed, his voice dangerously low but loud enough to make the few remaining department heads poke their heads out of their offices. “I left it charging on my desk.” Jessica physically recoiled, her victim act going into overdrive. “Leo, I… I was just trying to help you.” “Help me? You were trying to help me go bankrupt,” he shot back, his hand shaking slightly as he scrolled through the list of blocked contacts. I knew how hard he’d fought to build his company from the ground up. Blocking the CEO of a major client wasn’t just rude; it could be catastrophic. Just as I was about to step in and try to calm him down, my own phone started buzzing. And it didn’t stop. One by one, texts came in from mutual friends and business acquaintances—the same women he’d just unblocked—asking me what the hell was going on and why Leo was suddenly blocking them. In the business world, even a polite “what’s going on?” is a serious accusation. I shot a venomous glare at Jessica, then turned back to Leo. “Fix this. Now,” I said through clenched teeth. I walked to the other side of the floor and started damage control, texting and calling people back. Thankfully, my family has a good reputation in the city, and people were willing to listen. Combined with Leo’s professional track record, his story of his phone being “compromised” was believable. It especially helped when I mentioned that the mystery person had blocked me, too. More than one person subtly warned me to watch my back with “that other woman” around Leo. By the time I had smoothed things over, my own anger had settled into a cold, hard knot. Even though Leo was on my side, this whole mess was a huge red flag that needed a serious explanation. I took a few deep breaths and walked back to the main area. This time, there were two police officers standing with Leo. Leo was talking to them, his face a mask of controlled fury, while Jessica stood nearby, trembling and looking at him in disbelief. “Leo, you… you called the cops on me?” she stammered. When he refused to even look at her, she turned to the officers, grabbing one by the arm. “Officers, we’re friends! It was just a prank! We have a great relationship, you can’t arrest me!” The cop gently removed her hand from his arm, his expression a mix of pity and exasperation. “Ma’am, it’s not a prank when you cause actual damages by misusing private property.” “We are not friends, and it wasn’t a joke. She’s a new employee,” Leo cut in, his voice like steel. “Frankly, officers, I’d like you to investigate this fully. I suspect she was deliberately trying to sabotage my company.” Hearing that, Jessica’s face went white as a sheet. She bit her lip, her eyes swimming with tears as she looked pleadingly at Leo. When he continued to ignore her and instead walked over to ask me how my calls went, she finally broke. “Leo, I just thought that you should be more careful!” she cried out. “You have a girlfriend now! You need to keep your distance from all these other women. I was just trying to help you!” The tears finally spilled over, a single, perfect droplet tracing a path down her cheek. It was a masterful performance—just enough to look tragic, not enough to look messy. Too bad for her, Leo wasn’t the audience. “What do my contacts have to do with you?” he snapped. “You started by blocking my girlfriend. You weren’t trying to help me keep my distance; you were trying to make me die alone. And this?” He pointed to a name on his phone. “This is Ms. Albright. She’s the same age as my mother. Does she also need you to ‘help’ me keep my distance?” He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a low growl. “I am your boss. You do what I tell you to do, and nothing else. Do you not have the most basic professional decency?” He then turned to the police. “Officers, my phone contains sensitive trade secrets. For a brand-new employee to steal it and use it to cause this much damage… I want her investigated thoroughly.” I just stood there, stunned. I had come here ready for a fight over a cheating boyfriend, and instead, I’d found… a delusional, self-sabotaging stalker. Part 3 I never thought Leo would actually call the cops. It was extreme, but it also erased any doubt I had about him and Jessica. This woman was a threat, and he was treating her like one. My presence, standing firmly by Leo’s side, seemed to be the final straw for her. She wrenched away from the officer and lunged toward us, pointing a finger in my face. “What about her? Why does she get to be in the office? If you have a girlfriend and have to cut me off, why are you protecting her?” “Are you insane?” Leo shot back, his patience gone. “Can you not tell she’s my girlfriend? Did you miss the ‘My Chloe ❤️’ contact name? Stop playing games.” Jessica shrank back behind the officers, finally looking truly scared. The police tried to de-escalate, asking if a private settlement was possible. Leo was resolute. “Absolutely not. She sent that message to my girlfriend. That’s a declaration of war. I’m not letting it go.” Because Leo refused to back down, the officers took Jessica into custody. As they were leading her away, she made one last pathetic attempt. She clutched the blazer she was still wearing and looked at Leo with pleading eyes. “Leo, I’m cold. Can I please borrow this jacket?” Leo glanced at the jacket. “It’s not mine.” Just then, his head of design, who had been shamelessly watching the drama unfold from his doorway, popped out. “That’s mine! It’s from AllSaints! I must have left it on the chair next to Leo’s. You can give it back now, I’m cold too.” Jessica’s face contorted with rage. She ripped the jacket off and threw it at the designer, then shot one last, hate-filled glare in my direction before being escorted away. I almost had to laugh. A wannabe homewrecker tried to take me on and ended up getting herself arrested. What a night. Later, Leo explained everything. Jessica was the daughter of some old neighbors who had moved out of state a decade ago. They had recently moved back and reconnected with his parents. When they heard Jessica was looking for a job, his dad pressured Leo into giving her a position. He’d barely remembered who she was. And on her very first day, she pulled this stunt. Part 4 “So, she’s some kind of long-lost childhood sweetheart?” I asked, rolling my eyes. Leo made a gagging noise. “God, no. Don’t even say that. She was the absolute worst. Every time she got into trouble as a kid, she’d play innocent and find a way to blame me, then finish it off with a tearful ‘it’s all my fault.’” He shuddered dramatically. “Seriously, I never wanted to see her again. I only hired her because my dad wouldn’t let it go.” As it turned out, Jessica didn’t face any real charges. She cried to Leo’s dad, who then yelled at Leo until he agreed to drop it and settle things privately. She was out of the precinct by the next night. I figured after a move that drastic—and that stupid—she’d finally get the hint and disappear. I was wrong. A few days later, I got an Instagram follow request from her. The app said she was a “suggested contact from Leo’s phone,” which was a nice little twist of the knife. I accepted out of sheer morbid curiosity. She immediately sent me a photo. It was a picture taken at a fancy restaurant, across a large, round table filled with people. I recognized Leo’s parents, and Leo himself. He was sitting next to the person taking the photo, smiling as he placed a piece of food into their bowl. He looked relaxed, caring, intimate. The photo was followed by a message: “Chloe, you don’t really think Leo loves you, do you? He’s always been in love with me. Tonight, our families are meeting to officially discuss our wedding plans.” After what happened last time, I wasn’t falling for it. If I hadn’t gone to his office that night, and if he hadn’t called the cops, that first text would have become a seed of doubt between us. I wasn’t letting that happen again. I didn’t feel the same rage as before. I just calmly dialed Leo’s number. It rang for a while before he picked up, the background noise suddenly muffled as if he’d stepped outside. “Chloe! Hey, what’s up?” He sounded happy, cheerful even. “Where are you?” He paused. We trusted each other, so I rarely asked him questions like that. “I’m at The Hawthorne Grill with my parents.” “Is Jessica there?” “Yeah, our families are having dinner together,” he said, completely matter-of-fact. Not a hint of guilt in his voice. I was silent for a moment. “Check your Instagram DMs,” I said, then sent him a screenshot of the photo and her message. “Is she sick in the head?” he exploded. “She wasn’t even sitting next to me! My niece was sitting next to me!” He sounded furious. A second later, he hung up, telling me to wait. A moment later, my phone buzzed with a screenshot he’d sent me. It was from his niece’s Instagram story—the same photo, but uncropped, clearly showing the little girl sitting next to him, beaming as he gave her a shrimp. “Chloe, you should come over here,” he texted. “We need to end this once and for all. This woman is a psycho.” “Are you sure? It’s a family dinner. I don’t want to intrude.” “Intrude? My parents love you! And if we don’t shut this down face-to-face, she’ll keep pulling this crap and try to ruin us.” He was panicking now. “Yes. You have to come. I’m sending a car for you right now.” Part 5 He was right. This needed to be settled. I changed into a sharp but elegant dress and headed out. The Hawthorne Grill wasn’t far, and twenty minutes later I was there. Leo was waiting for me at the entrance, still looking furious. I walked up and put a calming hand on his arm. He looked at me, his expression softening into pure relief mixed with desperation. “I’m so glad you called me,” he said. “What if you had been like one of those women in those crazy Reddit stories you made me read, and you just believed her and disappeared?” I had to suppress a smile. That was my fault. When we first started dating, I was worried he was too nice to spot a manipulator, so I’d made him read a ton of posts from the “Am I The Asshole?” subreddit. It seemed the main takeaway he got wasn’t how to spot a master manipulator, but a deep-seated fear that if he ever upset me, I’d just ghost him. He pulled me into a hug, then led me toward their private dining room. When we walked in, the room was buzzing with cheerful conversation. The moment Leo’s parents saw me, their faces lit up. His mom immediately called a waiter over to add another chair. “Chloe, honey! Come, sit right here next to me,” she said, patting the new seat she’d placed between herself and Leo. Across the table, I could see Leo’s little niece sitting exactly where he said she’d be. And next to her… was Jessica. When she saw me, her jaw dropped, and her face turned pale. “Leo, who is this?” a woman next to Jessica—who I assumed was her mother—asked, her voice dripping with disdain. “Why are you bringing outsiders to a private family gathering?” Leo’s mother’s smile tightened instantly. She patted my hand reassuringly before beaming at Jessica’s mom. “Oh, she’s no outsider,” she said sweetly. “This is my future daughter-in-law, Chloe Miller.” “Oh, so this is Leo’s little girlfriend,” the woman sneered, forcing a laugh. “You’ve certainly got him on a tight leash, dear. He can’t even have dinner with his parents without you showing up to check on him.” In one sentence, she painted me as some kind of controlling, psycho girlfriend. Normally, I’d show respect to an elder, but some people don’t deserve it. Leo had given me a clear green light on the way in: “If they give you any trouble, you let them have it. Don’t you dare hold back.” So I smiled, a bright, dazzling smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes. I even gave Jessica a playful little brow-raise. “Oh, you must have me mistaken, ma’am,” I said, my voice as sweet as sugar. “It was your daughter who insisted I come. She sent me a lovely message saying you were all here tonight to discuss her and Leo’s wedding plans. I couldn’t let my boyfriend get taken advantage of, could I? I just had to come see for myself.” The table fell silent. Leo’s parents turned to look at Jessica, their expressions a mixture of shock and confusion. “What wedding plans?” his father asked, his voice dangerously low.

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1 My husband died at sea, saving his one true love. By the time they notified me, the fish had already had their fill. The officer on the line asked if I still wanted them to search for the body. I waved it off dismissively. No need to waste public resources. With the official death certificate in hand, I had my husband, Jerry, legally erased from existence. Then I called his lawyer. It was only after hanging up that I finally let myself laugh. I popped a bottle of champagne that night. The inheritance I was supposed to split was now two-thirds mine. That was definitely worth a celebration. … My husband, Jerry, was dead. He’d taken his old flame, Abby, out for a spin on his yacht. A freak wave slammed them into the rocks. He gave her the only life jacket, and the ocean took him instead. When the Coast Guard called, they told me a shark had taken his head. His headless torso had been floating on the surface. A few fishermen were about to haul it in when another shark appeared, clamped down on the body, and dragged it back into the deep. All they recovered were his wallet and his waterlogged phone. As one of the city’s most prominent entrepreneurs, everyone expected a grand search for Jerry’s remains. The police asked if I wanted to call in a specialized recovery team. “No,” I said, my voice firm. “Let’s not waste public resources.” An hour later, I was at the county records office with the death certificate. The clerk teared up when she saw his ID. “Mr. Hayes was such a good man. My condolences, Mrs. Hayes.” I had to bite back a smile. She wasn’t wrong. Jerry was a very good man. He was scheduled to sign our divorce papers in two days, right before signing a marriage license with Abby. Instead, he died, leaving me with a mountain of assets. With no body to bury, I had to improvise for the cremation. I gathered all the useless paperwork from his corporate office, threw in his personal effects, and set it all ablaze. After it cooled, I scooped the ashes into a plastic bag, making a mental note to buy a proper urn tomorrow. I met with the lawyer to liquidate Jerry’s estate. Six companies, eight luxury cars, sixty-six commercial properties, and eighty-eight residential units, not to mention the gold bars in his bank vault and a sprawling portfolio of stocks and bonds. I was busy counting the zeroes when the lawyer cleared his throat. “Mrs. Hayes, it appears your husband had already transferred the titles of two properties to a Ms. Abby Chen before his passing.” What? I would not allow anyone to ruin my lucky numbers. I turned to the lawyer, my voice turning to ice. “Anything he gave her… I can get it back, right?” He was a million-dollar-a-year lawyer for a reason. He understood immediately. That same day, data recovery specialists worked their magic on Jerry’s ruined phone. By the afternoon, a courier was delivering a legal notice to Abby’s doorstep. She stormed into my house just as I was pouring a glass of champagne. She snatched the glass and lunged, aiming to douse me. “Maya! What the hell is the meaning of this letter?” I sidestepped neatly, and the champagne splashed harmlessly onto the floor. “My handmade Italian rug,” I mourned, looking at Abby with mock pain. “Don’t worry, I’ll add it to your bill.” “Who do you think you are, demanding these things from me? Jerry gave them to me! We were about to get married! They’re mine!” “Ms. Chen, are you unfamiliar with the law?” I scoffed. “Gifts given during our marriage are considered marital assets. I have every right to demand their return.” Her face went pale. She fumbled for her phone. “You didn’t discuss this with Jerry, did you? I’m calling him right now. Just you wait, he’s going to tear you apart.” At that, a real laugh escaped me. “Don’t bother. The reception is terrible from inside a shark’s stomach.” Her eyebrows twisted in fury. “You are a vile, poisonous woman, Maya! You were married to him! How can you say something so horrible?” I let her finish her tirade before calmly pulling Jerry’s ID from my purse—cut cleanly in two. “Still don’t believe me? Here’s his ID. I just had it invalidated this morning.” Abby stared at the two halves, her disbelief warring with a creeping dread. “This is just another one of your tricks. I’m calling him, and you won’t see a single penny of his money!” She frantically dialed his number. A moment later, a phone started ringing from inside my handbag. I pulled out Jerry’s phone. The screen was lit up with a single word: ‘Wifey.’ The color drained from Abby’s face. “Why do you have his phone?” “I told you. He’s dead.” “Then where’s the body?” “Shark food,” I said with a shrug. “Ms. Chen, have you forgotten? You two were on that yacht together. How is it that you’re the only one who came back?” “I thought… I thought…” Abby’s legs gave out, and she crumpled to the floor. Her body started to tremble, her eyes flooding with tears that spilled down her cheeks like perfect, glistening pearls. I rolled my eyes. Honestly, tears are just as bad for the rug. After a few minutes of sobbing, she shot to her feet and made a beeline for the marble pillar in the living room. “Jerry, I’m coming with you!” I jumped back, startled, and quickly dialed my phone. “911? Yes, there’s a woman attempting suicide in my home.” The police arrived quickly. After getting the story, they escorted a hysterical Abby out. As they left, I couldn’t help but call after her. “Remember to return my property, or I’m suing!” One of the officers shot me a look that clearly said, The woman is having a breakdown, and you’re still harassing her? I just shrugged. We were talking about millions of dollars. Who wouldn’t be a little stressed? A few days later, I started planning Jerry’s funeral. He had so many wealthy relatives, and I’d spent years giving them generous wedding gifts and condolence money. Now, it was time to reap my harvest. I sent out notifications to Jerry’s sprawling family tree and hired an ‘expert’ from the cemetery to help me pick a plot. He showed me all the prime locations with good “energy,” but I wasn’t interested. My eyes were drawn to a barren patch on the edge of the grounds, where nothing grew. “Absolutely not,” the expert said. “If he’s buried there, his descendants will lead lives of hardship.” I clapped my hands together. “Perfect! It’s got great feng shui and it’s cheap. We’ll take it.” Jerry and I never had children, so there were no descendants to worry about. With the plot and a new urn secured, I hired a top-tier funeral service to give Jerry a send-off worthy of his status. During the service, I dabbed at my dry eyes with a tissue while discreetly eyeing the growing pile of condolence envelopes. Rich people, god love them. The envelopes were getting fatter and fatter, and it took all my willpower not to grin. Just as the funeral was winding down, Abby appeared. She was dressed in black, holding the hand of a small boy, maybe seven or eight years old. She walked directly to the front, facing Jerry’s portrait. The already quiet room fell into a stunned silence. Every eye was on her. “Leo,” Abby’s voice was frail, “kneel. This is your father.” As the boy started to bend his knees, I rushed forward and gently pulled him back up. “Careful, little guy. You can’t just go around calling any man ‘Dad.’” Abby’s eyes flashed with anger. “He’s my son with Jerry!” “Oh,” I said, my gaze dropping. “Is he now? That’s what you say. But who can prove it?” “We can.” Two figures appeared in the doorway. It was my mother- and father-in-law, whom I hadn’t seen in years. “You venomous bitch!” my mother-in-law shrieked the moment she saw me, lunging forward. “My son is dead, and you notify everyone but his own parents? What are you plotting?” I wasn’t about to let her claw my face off. I took a step back, and with a flick of my wrist, my hired bodyguards intercepted her. From a safe distance, I said, “Mother, wasn’t it you who told me never to contact you again unless I was dead?” She seemed to have forgotten the day she threw me out of her house with those exact words. “You evil woman! You must have killed him! You’d do anything for his money, you shameless whore! You’ll rot in hell for this!” She continued to struggle, desperate to get her hands on me, but my security was earning their pay, holding her tight. “Mother, surely you know how Jerry died? He was with Chl—” “Leo, come here! Say hello to Grandma and Grandpa!” Abby interrupted, pulling the boy toward them. My mother-in-law instantly softened, crouching down to caress the boy’s face. “So this is our grandson. He looks exactly like Jerry did as a boy.” She looked up at Abby, her voice thick with emotion. “Abby, you poor dear. It must have been so difficult, raising him all by yourself for all these years.” The whole reunion scene was making me sick. “Mother,” I said, my voice dripping with false concern. “You can’t just believe everything she says. We don’t even know who this child’s father is.” Abby bristled. “Are you suggesting Leo isn’t Jerry’s son? I’m telling you, he is! I was already pregnant when we broke up. I’ve been raising our son on my own ever since.” My mother-in-law chimed in, “Anyone can see this boy has Hayes blood! You, on the other hand, you barren woman! You can’t even have a child of your own, so you attack those who can.” Emboldened by her new ally, Abby’s confidence surged. She launched into a tearful monologue about the struggles of being a single mother and the discrimination she faced. “Is that so?” I cut through her performance without mercy. “Funny, I heard you were married to someone else overseas. And that he left you because you cheated on him.” “You’re lying!” Abby sobbed, turning back to my mother-in-law. “I can endure the insults, but it’s Leo… a boy needs his father!” My mother-in-law, completely won over, rounded on me. “You useless, barren woman, Maya! You’ve never been a mother, you wouldn’t understand! I understand Abby’s pain perfectly!” I spoke softly, my voice carrying through the silent room. “Mother, even if this child really is Jerry’s, you’d need proof, wouldn’t you? Otherwise, anyone could walk in here with a child, claim it’s your grandson, and you’d just accept it?” “I have proof,” Abby declared, her back straightening. “Jerry didn’t believe Leo was his at first, either. So we did a paternity test. The report is still in the drawer of his office desk. Go see for yourself, Mother. Then you’ll know.” Well, well. Things were escalating quickly. It wasn’t just me; you could see the fascinated, hungry expressions on the faces of every guest. This funeral was turning into quite the spectacle. Hearing this, my mother-in-law immediately ordered someone to go to Jerry’s office and retrieve the report. I tried to intervene again. “Mother, can’t we deal with this after the funeral? It’s not a good look, making a scene in front of all these people.” She snorted. “What’s the matter, Maya? Afraid that if the test proves he’s Jerry’s son, he’ll get a piece of the inheritance? Let me tell you something, you need to be more generous. If I were in your shoes, I would welcome Leo with open arms.” There was no stopping her. After Abby gave specific instructions on where to find the document, one of the family assistants rushed off to Jerry’s company headquarters. I took the opportunity to make a quick phone call myself. He returned in less than half an hour.

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The day after my mom’s “I’m not getting any younger, you know” ultimatum, I dumped my boyfriend of five years and, resume in hand, crashed a local speed-dating event. My best friend, Maya, was baffled. “I don’t get it. You always said Ethan was your rock, the one person who kept you sane. Why wouldn’t you marry him?” I scanned the profile sheet of a potential match, not even looking up. “His ‘rock’ stability is a free trial that expired for me years ago. I’m a long-term subscriber, which apparently just makes me old news.” A second later, Ethan stormed into the noisy brewery, his jaw tight. “I told you I just think of her as a little sister,” he hissed. “You’re really going to break up with me over this?” 1 I ignored him, reaching for the profile sheet in his hand. It was the only promising one I’d found after two hours of painfully awkward five-minute conversations. Leo, 32, University Professor. Hobbies: hiking, classic films. Family: stable, loving. And the most important detail: an only child. No needy “little sister” in sight. Ethan lifted the paper just out of my reach. The silver cufflinks on his wrist glinted under the lights—the ones I’d given him for his birthday last year. “Anna, stop making a scene.” His voice was low, strained with barely controlled anger. I laughed, gesturing at the sign by the door. “Ethan, this is a speed-dating event. The whole point is first impressions and efficiency. You’re currently blocking my romantic prospects.” His knuckles turned white as he crumpled the thin sheet of paper. “You’d throw away five years for some guy you don’t even know?” “It’s not for some guy. It’s for me.” My smile faded. I looked at him calmly. “Ethan, I’m done getting calls from you at 3 AM because Chloe got creeped on at a bar and needs you to be her knight in shining armor.” “I’m done sitting alone in a restaurant on our anniversary because you had to rush off to comfort Chloe after her latest breakup.” “And I am so, so done hearing you say, ‘She’s just like a sister to me, Anna. She’s fragile. She only has me.’” The color drained from Ethan’s face. He opened his mouth, his throat working, but no words came out. A few of the older folks organizing the event were already starting to whisper, glancing at us over their clipboards. “He’s such a handsome young man. What more could she want?” “Girls these days, their standards are impossible.” Ethan’s hands clenched into fists. He hated losing face, hated looking anything less than perfectly in control. I wanted him to feel, just for a moment, what it was like to be publicly dismissed. “Anna, let’s talk about this at home.” He grabbed my wrist, his grip surprisingly strong. I didn’t fight him. I just looked past his shoulder. A girl in a white sundress was hurrying toward us, her eyes red and puffy, fresh tear tracks on her cheeks. “Ethan, don’t be mad at Anna-Marie,” she sobbed. “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have called you again.” Chloe had arrived. Ethan’s “stability” switch flipped instantly. He dropped my wrist and turned to steady her. “What’s wrong? I told you to wait for me at home.” “I was worried you and Anna-Marie would fight.” Chloe looked down, her voice choked with tears. “It’s all because of me.” As she spoke, she shot a quick glance at me from under her eyelashes. There was no apology in it. Only triumph. I crossed my arms, a spectator at the five-star drama of sibling-like devotion. As expected, Ethan didn’t disappoint. He patted Chloe’s back gently, his voice softer than I’d heard it in five years. “It’s not your fault. This is between her and me.” He didn’t even look back at me. He just turned and led Chloe away. The profile sheet belonging to the “normal” man was now a crumpled ball, tossed into a nearby trash can. Just like our five years together. 2 Maya’s call came while I was supervising a locksmith. “You’re really changing them? Aren’t you afraid Ethan’s going to lose his mind when he gets back?” “He has a home. He has a sister who needs her emotional support human. Why would he come back here?” I told the locksmith, “The keypad, the deadbolt, everything. I don’t want a single fly getting in here that I don’t personally invite.” Maya was quiet for a moment. “Anna, are you sure about this? It’s been five years…” I watched the locksmith drill out the old cylinder, a sense of calm settling over me. Five years? What finally broke me wasn’t the length of our relationship. It was a single night two weeks ago, when my temperature hit 102. I’d gotten food poisoning from some bad takeout. I was a wreck, completely dehydrated and weak. The number on the thermometer kept climbing, and I felt like my brain was melting. Shivering, I called Ethan, my voice trembling. “Eth, I feel awful. I have a really high fever. Can you please take me to the ER?” He was quick to agree. “Of course. Don’t worry, I’m on my way. Leave the door unlocked for me.” I used my last bit of energy to drag myself to the sofa to wait. Just as I was about to pass out, my phone rang again. It was Ethan. Thinking he was downstairs, I answered, a wave of relief washing over me. But his voice on the other end was apologetic. “Anna, listen… something’s come up with Chloe. She was watching a horror movie by herself and freaked out. There’s a thunderstorm, and she called me sobbing, totally hysterical. You know how scared she gets.” In that instant, my heart plunged into a bucket of ice water. “And?” I heard myself ask, my voice eerily calm and foreign. “I have to go check on her first. I can’t leave her alone like this.” He paused, then said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “You’re strong, Anna. Just grab an Uber to the hospital and get checked in. I’ll comfort her and then I’ll head right over to meet you.” You’re strong. Those two words were a poisoned knife, and he twisted it right in my gut. I hung up without another word. That night, I took an Uber to the hospital by myself. I waited in the crowded ER alone. I sat in a cold, sterile room alone, watching the IV fluid drip, drip, drip into my arm. The room was full of other patients, all of them with family or friends by their side. There was just me. Ethan never showed up. The next morning, he sent me a text with a picture of Chloe sleeping peacefully. Hey babe, Chloe had a rough night, I stayed with her until she finally calmed down and fell asleep. How are you doing? Still at the hospital? Staring at that screen, I had a moment of blinding clarity. For five years, I was the one who was expected to be “strong.” And Chloe? She would always be the fragile, helpless one who deserved to be comforted and cared for, no matter the cost. My mom’s nagging was just the spark. The real bomb that destroyed every last bit of affection I had for him was that night—the six long, cold hours I spent all by myself in the hospital. “Anna? Are you there?” Maya’s voice pulled me back to the present. I snapped a picture of the old, discarded lock and posted it to my Instagram story. Caption: Out with the old, in with the new. “I’m sure,” I said into the phone. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” I put the phone on speaker and set it aside, then started gathering Ethan’s things. His toothbrush, his towel, a few changes of clothes, and the cufflinks he so proudly wore. I stuffed it all into a black trash bag. Whether he was intentionally malicious or just clueless didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was that I was finally choosing myself. That was enough. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. I looked through the peephole. It was Ethan, with a tear-streaked Chloe standing beside him. I didn’t open the door. Ethan tried the keypad. The electronic lock beeped, ACCESS DENIED, over and over. His face grew darker with each failed attempt. Finally, he started pounding on the door. “Anna! Open this door! What the hell did you do to the lock?” I turned on my phone’s video camera and aimed it at the peephole. Chloe tried to pull him back. “Ethan, please don’t! She’s probably just angry. Let’s just go.” “Go? She threw all my stuff out in the hall! She’s trying to cut me off completely?” He kicked the door, the sound echoing in the hallway. I walked calmly to the door and spoke through it. “Mr. Hayes, you kick my door one more time, and I’ll be sending this video to your firm’s HR department. I’ve even got a title for the email: Promising Young Analyst Has Public Meltdown. What Gives?” The kicking stopped. It was silent outside. A few seconds later, Chloe’s tearful voice drifted through the door. “Anna-Marie, I’m so sorry. Please don’t be mad at Ethan. He’s just upset because he cares about you so much. I… I made you some homemade chicken pot pie. I’ll just leave it out here for you.” I heard their footsteps retreat down the hall. I opened the door. A thermal container sat on my doormat with a sticky note on top. Anna-Marie, five years is a long time. Don’t give up on it so easily. —Chloe The handwriting was delicate, pretty, and reeked of passive aggression. I picked up the container, walked to my living room window, opened it, and dropped the container into the dumpster below. Perfect shot. I dusted my hands off and went to take a shower. As the hot water washed over me, my phone buzzed incessantly on the counter. It was Ethan. I let it go to voicemail. When I got out, I had over twenty missed calls. The latest text was from Chloe. Anna-Marie, how could you throw out the pie? I spent three hours making that for you. I know you don’t like me, but you can’t just disrespect my feelings like that. Ethan saw you do it from the car, and he’s really hurt. I stared at the message and laughed. Of course he was hurt. I had just destroyed the prop he was going to use to prove his own innocence. I didn’t reply. I just blocked both their numbers. The world went blissfully silent. 3 The next day, with a freshly printed personal profile, I went back to the brewery. They were hosting another singles’ mixer. Ethan had destroyed the professor’s profile yesterday; I was determined to find someone even better today. A man with kind eyes and wire-rimmed glasses approached me. “Excuse me, are you Anna-Marie?” I nodded. “Hi, I’m Leo. I was the, uh… the professor whose profile got destroyed yesterday.” He gave a slightly embarrassed smile. “I got your number from the event organizer, but when I tried to call, it wouldn’t go through.” I remembered I had turned on a feature to block all unknown numbers to avoid Ethan. “I’m sorry about that.” “It’s okay.” Leo’s eyes fell to the new profile sheet in my hand. “Back at it again today?” I held it up. “Efficiently seeking a non-drama-filled relationship.” Leo actually laughed. “Me too.” He gestured to a quiet corner table. “Would you mind if we talked for a bit? Standing in the middle of all this makes me a little nervous.” I saw a faint blush creep up his neck and smiled. “Sure.” Leo was fascinating. He taught classical literature, and he spoke thoughtfully, but he had a dry sense of humor that kept catching me off guard. We talked about everything from Shakespeare to the terrible philosophy of reality TV, and it wasn’t awkward at all. “Honestly, I get it,” he said with a sigh when we talked about the mixer. “My family is constantly trying to set me up. Coming here and looking for myself is just more efficient.” He smiled wryly. “The last woman my mom set me up with insisted she was a sweet, traditional girl. When I showed up for our date, she’d brought her mom, two aunts, and a cousin to ‘interview’ me.” “We’d been talking for maybe five minutes when her aunt asked if I’d be willing to hand over my paycheck to her niece, and her cousin asked what school district I planned on buying a house in.” “It felt like an interrogation. And at the end, the ‘sweet girl’ told me I seemed nice, but my only flaw was that I looked too much like a pushover, and she was worried I wouldn’t be able to handle her brother who wanted to go into politics.” He mimicked their voices perfectly, and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Hearing his story made him feel less like a perfect resume and more like a real person. We were both just trying to navigate the bizarre landscape of modern dating, looking for someone on the same page. My phone vibrated. I glanced at the screen. It was a picture message from an unknown number. It was a photo of Ethan in a hospital bed, his left arm in a cast, his face pale. Chloe was sitting by his side, dutifully peeling an apple for him. They looked like a tragic painting. Beneath the picture was a single line of text. Anna-Marie, Ethan was distracted trying to find you and got into a car accident. He broke his arm. Can you please come see him? I put my phone face down on the table, my expression unreadable. Leo noticed the change in my mood. “Is everything alright?” “Yeah, just spam.” I took a sip of my beer, hiding the cold fury in my eyes. Ethan. You’ve really outdone yourself. Using a guilt trip of this magnitude just to drag me back in. “Anna-Marie,” Leo said suddenly. “This might be forward, but it feels like you’ve got a storm cloud following you around.” I looked up at him. “I don’t know what’s going on,” he said, his gaze sincere, “but I can tell you’re not happy. If there’s anything I can do to help, please don’t hesitate to ask.” A warmth spread through my chest. Unlike Ethan’s arrogant “I’ll fix this for you” attitude, Leo offered something different: respect and equality. “Thank you, Leo,” I said, and I meant it. “But don’t worry. The cloud is about to clear up.” I was going to rip it to shreds myself. We talked until the brewery was closing. Leo walked me to the entrance of my apartment complex. “I had a really great time talking to you today,” he said, his figure elongated by the streetlight. “Me too.” “So… could I maybe see you again tomorrow?” he asked, a hopeful hesitation in his voice. I nodded. “Definitely.” After saying goodbye to Leo, I turned and started walking toward my building. I’d just reached the front door when a figure lunged out of the shadows and grabbed my arm. It was Ethan. His right hand gripped me tightly. His left arm was, indeed, in a cast, held in a sling around his neck. “Well, look at you, Anna,” he snarled, his eyes bloodshot. “I get in a car wreck because of you, and you’re out on a date with another man?”

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The day Hollywood’s golden boy announced his wedding, the biggest star in the world spent the entire night smoking on her balcony. I leaned against the doorframe, a smirk on my face. “You should go crash the wedding.” Stella stubbed out her cigarette and curled into my arms. Her fingers traced the long, faded scar on my forearm—a souvenir from the time I took a knife for her. “You big idiot,” she whispered. “Don’t you have any faith in yourself?” Two days later, a friend at TMZ sent me a video. It was Stella, on a stage, tears streaming down her face as she and Ethan Cole kissed, a crowd roaring around them. That’s when the System came back online. Its voice was full of pity. I managed to get you a special offer. For just one dollar, you can continue to live… as Stella’s husband. I walked to the edge of the pier and tossed a dollar coin into the dark, churning water. “No, thanks.” It was only later that I heard the stories. How the great Stella Vance was squandering her fortune and her sanity, trying to dredge the entire Pacific coastline. All to find a single coin. 1 When the black Escalade came for me, I happened to be clutching a dollar coin in my hand. The System, silent for years, flickered back to life in my mind. Its voice was tinny, laced with a digital sob. I got you a deal! For just one dollar, you can keep living as Stella’s husband. My mind flashed back to last night, to Stella on the balcony. She was at the top of her game now. She didn’t need to chain-smoke her anxieties away anymore. It had to be about Ethan Cole’s engagement. I saw her out there, a lonely silhouette against the LA skyline. “You should go crash the wedding,” I’d teased. She turned, stepping out of the shadows. Her beautiful face, always so cool and distant to the rest of the world, softened for me. Her fingers found the scar on my arm. “You big idiot,” she’d murmured, a small smile playing on her lips. “What crazy things are you thinking?” “That you’ll run off with him,” I said, no filter. Her smile widened, brilliant and blinding. She threw her arms around my neck. “If I left a man like you for him, I’d be the stupidest woman alive. So, don’t leave me tonight, okay?” Stella had been busy. Her new production company was taking off. She was always out late, handling “emergencies.” “Deal,” I’d said, forcing a smile so wide it hurt, hoping it would hide the sadness in my eyes. “Even if the studio explodes, I’m not going anywhere.” But I didn’t have any hope. Not really. Not when Ethan Cole was so sure of himself. An Instagram DM had appeared earlier that day, from a burner account. Wanna bet? I snap my fingers, she comes running. I’d replied politely. Who is this? You need me to introduce myself? Come on, charity case. We’ve met. At the group home. In your bed. 2 Those words froze me to the couch. He knew everything. He knew I was the dirty, clumsy kid from the foster system that no one ever wanted. Why are you telling me this? I typed back. I’m just trying to have a relationship here, and your constant neediness is a pain in my ass. Every time there’s a thunderstorm in LA, she has to drop everything and run home to you. It’s nothing personal. I just find it annoying. So, I’m getting rid of the annoyance. I clenched my jaw just as the front door opened. Stella swept in, looking radiant. “Liam, did you miss me?” she asked, her tone so casual, like she was just getting home from a long day at the office. But I saw it. One of the silk ribbons on her dress was torn. And in the photo Ethan had just sent me, I could see the faint flush on her cheek, the look she got when she was… moved. A flash of lightning split the sky outside. Stella’s phone began to buzz incessantly. This was his bet. He wanted me to see, with my own eyes, who she would choose. And deep down, in that old, insecure part of me that never really went away, I knew I would lose. She wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me close. But her body was stiff. “Liam,” she said softly. “Have you ever thought that hiding from your fears isn’t a long-term solution?” I knew what she meant. “The day I pulled you out of that collapsed building, I watched lightning strike my best friend right in front of me.” I was terrified of loud noises, of that raw, natural power that could erase a person in an instant. I only ever had two real friends in the system. One of them was gone. Now, there was only Stella. She turned my face to hers, her gaze intense. “Liam, you need to grow up. The company is at a critical stage. You want me to be free from that horrible studio contract, right? This company is my hope. It’s our future.” I had always supported her, in everything. But for once, I was selfish. “I don’t want you to go,” I whispered. Her phone kept vibrating. A flicker of impatience crossed her features, so fast I might have imagined it. “Just think about it, Liam.” She stood up and started texting. She didn’t know that Ethan was screenshotting everything and sending it to me. Ethan: Not on your way yet? Stella: He’s throwing a tantrum. Ethan: The kid who used to drink out of the toilet at the group home is throwing a tantrum? Wow. Look, Stella, if you can’t make it, it’s fine. I’ll just let my psycho fiancée keep trying to break down the door. She probably won’t actually stab me. This is America, after all. Stella: [Weary emoji] I’ve spoiled him. I’ll teach him to be more independent. Don’t be scared. I’m on my way. She put her phone down just as I finished reading. “I’ll be back to make you your favorite dinner,” she promised. She pulled on her jacket, but paused at the door and came back to plant a light, cool kiss on my forehead. The door clicked shut. Hello, Liam, the System’s voice echoed in my head. I’m sorry we have to meet again. I never seem to bring good news. I wanted to hug it, this strange, sad entity. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.” It’s not your fault, either, it replied, its voice clear and kind. 3 The next day was my birthday. For the first time ever, Stella wasn’t there. I texted her. Eight hours later, she replied with a photo of herself smiling brightly next to a street sign in Paris. Stella: Paris is beautiful, Liam. When I’m done with this, I’ll take you here. We’ll celebrate your birthday then. I texted back: Okay. But the photo wasn’t from today. Minutes earlier, my friend from TMZ had sent me the video. “Married actress crashes A-lister’s wedding. Funniest shit I’ve ever seen. That snake Ethan Cole didn’t even need to marry that girl—her family’s company just went bankrupt. He did this on purpose, trending on Twitter for weeks about his tragic, arranged marriage. Fucking drama queen.” In the video, Stella and Ethan Cole were kissing, sobbing in each other’s arms, surrounded by a cheering crowd. I’d recognized Ethan the first time I saw him on screen. People are haunted by what they couldn’t have in their youth. For Stella, he was that. One year, a senator’s son came to stay at our group home for a month as a charity project. That was Ethan. Stella, who was usually my shadow, barely spoke to me the entire time. I thought he was just a passing phase. I was wrong. He was the moon she could never reach. And I was just the familiar, boring earth she was stuck on. While Stella was kissing Ethan in front of the world, I was walking down the street, trying to buy myself a birthday cake. When the Escalade mounted the curb and accelerated toward me, I just stood there. I didn’t even move. How can the punishment be happening ahead of schedule? the System asked, confused. “It’s okay,” I told it. “I got to live a lot longer than I was supposed to. I saw some beautiful things.” That day the lightning struck, it hit me, too. I had thrown myself over Stella to protect her. That’s when the System first appeared. It told me to choose one person. If I could make them fall in love with me, I could live. I chose Stella. We’d survived the system together, clinging to each other. It seemed like the safest, most certain path in the world. In this last moment, I realized my mistake. Love isn’t that simple. The System tearfully froze time. A moment later, its light pulsed. I got you one last chance. For one dollar. You can keep living as Stella’s husband. But… you will be bound to her, forever. Once, that would have been a temptation. But I had grown up. “No, thanks,” I said. The coin was still in my hand. The ocean was fifty feet away. I arched my arm and threw it as far as I could. Time resumed. The pain of the impact was as searing as the lightning had been all those years ago. Unfortunately, I didn’t die instantly. In the flash of agony, I thought I saw my old friend Maya. The ambulance ride was a blur of siren wails and the suffocating smell of antiseptic. I heard her voice, desperate and sharp, talking to the other paramedics. “Patient is in cardiac arrest, starting chest compressions…” 4 Stella called my phone more than a dozen times. I was in surgery, so I couldn’t answer. After the first round of resuscitation, Maya found my phone buzzing on a gurney outside the OR. She answered the latest call. “It’s just a business arrangement, Liam, why can’t you accept that?” Stella’s voice was impatient, angry. “Ethan and I are tied together by our careers now. This isn’t like when we were kids anymore.” She paused, taking a ragged breath. “This isn’t a world where you can solve everything with your fists.” She still remembered me fighting the other kids who called her a bastard, the daughter of a homewrecker. She’d arrived at the home like a princess, a tiny, perfect doll in a frilly dress, stepping out of her billionaire father’s limousine. Then, one day, she was just one of us. Her father’s wife had found out about her, and her mother was dead. He’d dumped her in the system to keep her from threatening his legitimate daughter’s inheritance. Was her obsession with Ethan just a longing for the life that was stolen from her? Maya tried to tell her what was happening, but the light above the OR door flashed red again. “Dr. Chen!” a nurse yelled. “Patient’s unresponsive, exhibiting neurological signs, he’s crashing!” Maya dropped the phone and ran back inside. On the other end of the line, Stella heard only silence. “Liam? Why aren’t you saying anything?” She stared at the screen for a long moment, then sighed and hung up. Ethan glanced at her, a smirk on his face. “Giving you the silent treatment? You give a weed too much sunlight, it starts to think it’s a rose.” “He’s—” Stella hesitated. “He’s different.” “So, what do you want? Your career, or a normal life with him? Have you figured that out yet?” Ethan sneered. “Today he’s posting pity-bait about how I’m bullying him. Tomorrow he’ll leak that you’re sleeping with him. It’s the truth, but the public doesn’t care about the truth. To them, you’re just a liar.” Stella stared out the window, a headache blooming behind her eyes. The phone rang again. It was Maya, calling from my number. Stella answered immediately. “Liam, about before, I—” “The night you and Liam signed your marriage certificate,” Maya’s voice cut in, cold and precise. “What was the celestial event?” Stella froze, racking her brain. The voice was familiar. “Maya?” she asked, her own voice turning to ice. “Where’s Liam? Why do you have his phone? Where are you?” Stella had always hated Maya, always been terrified I would choose her instead. Maya ignored the jealous fit. “I’m asking you a question. The night you registered your marriage, what happened in the sky? Please, just answer the question.” “Are you insane, Maya? Why are you asking me that? Doesn’t Liam know? Who the hell do you think you are?” “STELLA!” Maya’s voice cracked with a fury Stella had never heard before. “He and I are just friends, you fucking paranoid bitch! What was the event in the sky?! We’re out of time!” The raw desperation in Maya’s voice stunned her into silence. The night they got their marriage license— I knew Stella wouldn’t be able to answer. That night, there was a solar eclipse. A sun in the night sky. But Stella was in London. Ethan had staged a suicide attempt to get her on a plane. When she came back, exhausted and stressed, she had no idea what she’d missed. I’d asked her, “Stella, did you see the sun last night?” She’d just rubbed her tired eyes. “It was raining in London,” she’d said. “Overcast.” An answer that was not an answer. I was talking about LA. She was talking about London. 5 In the final moments of the countdown, Maya wanted to fly across the world and strangle Stella. I was confused. The System had never given second chances before. Maybe it was new at this, not yet immune to human tragedy. It had given Maya the instructions. Call Stella. Ask the question. Thirty seconds. If she answers correctly, Liam lives. No hints. No other questions. Just this. Maya thought it was a sure thing. What woman wouldn’t remember the night she got married? Even she knew about the eclipse; it had been all over the news. But Stella wasn’t here. She wasn’t even looking at the same sky. “God damn you, Stella,” Maya whispered into the phone. “I hope you regret this for the rest of your life.” Time’s up, the System announced. Answer incorrect. The phone slipped from Maya’s hand. Through the window of the OR, she saw the head surgeon pull off his mask and shake his head. She heard the long, flat beep of the monitor, a sound that seemed to stretch into eternity. From the phone on the floor, Stella’s tinny voice asked, “Let me talk to Liam.” Maya started to laugh, tears splashing onto the sterile linoleum. “He’s dead,” she said, her voice hollow and calm.

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I was born with a peculiarity: two hearts beating inside my chest. It was the only thing about me that ever brought my parents any joy. Because my older brother, Jason, was born with a congenital heart defect. The only reason I existed was to ensure he would live. Then I met Kitty, and we got married. She rescued me from the abyss of my desperate longing for a family’s love. I thought she would be different from my parents. But when my brother’s heart began to fail, she became obsessed with the idea of me donating one of mine to him. What she didn’t know was that I only had one heart left. My other one was already inside of her. 1. “It’s just one heart, Ethan. Why are you being so selfish?” “Weren’t you born to keep your brother alive?” Kitty’s grip on my arm was like a vise. “But I want to live, too. I’ll die without a heart.” Her face tightened for a moment before she pressed on. “You have two hearts. Give one away, and you’ll still have one left. You’ll live.” “But your brother is different. Without this heart from you, he’ll die.” Ignoring my struggles, Kitty shoved me into the prep room. I tried to explain, my voice filled with a desperate helplessness. “I only have one heart now.” “You saw the test results, didn’t you?” She wouldn’t listen. “Who knows what you’ve done to get out of this? You probably bribed the lab technicians to fake the report.” She was convinced I’d paid someone off to alter the results. “No, Kitty, that’s not it. I had surgery when I was a kid. I already donated one of my hearts.” “Enough, Ethan! This is about saving your brother’s life. Why are you being so stubborn?” she snapped, cutting me off. “I’m not lying. My heart is inside you.” But she didn’t hear a word I said. She was already walking toward my brother’s prep room. 2. The other doctors in the room stared at us, momentarily stunned. Then, someone spoke up. “Picking now to whisper sweet nothings? That’s just disgusting.” “Your brother is fighting for his life, and you’re in here hitting on your sister-in-law with cheesy lines.” Only our immediate families knew Kitty and I were married. Her colleagues had never met me. And since Kitty had handled every single aspect of Jason’s hospitalization, everyone in her department assumed he was her husband. Kitty had never bothered to correct them. “Exactly. Instead of trying to save his own brother, he’s trying to seduce his wife.” “What a waste of a heart.” Their words were like daggers. I had to tell them the truth. “Actually, I’m the one who’s—” Kitty came back out and grabbed my arm again, her grip tight. “You are donating your heart today. Your brother is already in the operating room. You’re next.” She brandished a stack of papers. “I’ve already signed the consent forms. All you have to do is get on the table.” Inside the OR, I saw Jason. He looked so frail and weak that it was impossible not to feel sorry for him. “Don’t worry,” a doctor said kindly. “Your wife, Dr. Evans, will make sure you live a long, healthy life.” Jason didn’t correct him. He just offered a weak, grateful smile. “It’s all my fault,” he rasped, his voice filled with self-reproach. “Making my brother sacrifice so much for me.” He looked at me, but his eyes held a glint of triumph. The other doctors murmured in sympathy, their gazes turning on me with contempt. To them, my brother was a saint, and I was a monster. After a few reassuring words to Jason, Kitty turned to me. She ignored my frantic struggles and forced me onto the operating table. “Get the anesthesiologist in here. Now,” she ordered. A moment later, the fight went out of me. Kitty’s fingers brushed against my cheek. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I’ll make sure you survive this.” Her mentor had been a pioneer in heart transplantation. She was confident she could pull this off. “After your brother recovers, the whole family will finally accept you. And I’ll be right here by your side.” 3. The surgery began, a tense and focused dance of scalpels and sutures. Hours later, Kitty lifted a heart from my chest. Without a second glance, she rushed it into Jason’s operating room. My chest was a gaping wound. My body lay alone and forgotten on the cold metal table. Suddenly, the piercing shriek of the heart monitor jolted the attending physician awake. “He’s dead? I thought he had two hearts.” One of Kitty’s colleagues sounded confused. “You actually believed that story Dr. Evans told? It was just a joke.” “Serves him right,” another one muttered. “Trying to seduce Dr. Evans while her husband was dying. He got what he deserved.” “So, what do we do now?” “He’s dead. Someone will come for the body eventually. If not, the morgue will deal with it.” With that, they all left. Kitty, meanwhile, was completely absorbed in Jason’s surgery. It was her first heart transplant, but she was confident. After several grueling hours, she finished, the procedure a success. Exhausted but triumphant, she followed Jason to the recovery room. Only after he was settled did a thought of me cross her mind. As she was heading back to the OR, she ran into a colleague from the surgery. “Where’s my husband?” she asked. The colleague thought for a moment. “Isn’t he back in his room already? Don’t worry, someone’s watching him. The nurses in the department will take good care of your husband.” The odd phrasing didn’t register with Kitty. She figured her colleague was right. With her position in the hospital, the nurses would be sure to look after him. So, she went back to her office and got back to work. A day later, Jason woke up. Kitty was right there by his side. “Jason, you’re finally awake.” Seeing her, he burst into tears. 4. Kitty gently hugged him. “Don’t worry. The surgery was a success. Your heart is going to be fine now.” Jason touched his chest, overwhelmed with relief. The illness that had plagued him his entire life was finally gone. He clung to Kitty, sobbing. “You need to stay calm,” she murmured, rubbing his back soothingly. “No extreme emotions.” A nurse passing by smiled. “Dr. Evans, you take such good care of your husband.” Kitty froze. She remembered I was in another room on the same floor. “You’re mistaken,” she started to explain. “He’s not…” Jason clutched his chest, a pained expression on his face, effectively cutting her off. Kitty’s attention immediately shifted back to him. “I told you not to cry. You need to rest so you can recover.” Seeing Jason like this, so vulnerable, a memory of me surfaced in her mind. She realized she hadn’t seen me since the surgery. “Jason, you get some rest. I’m going to check on Ethan.” As she stood up to leave, Jason grabbed her hand, his grip surprisingly strong. “I had this surgery without telling my parents. This is a critical time for my recovery. I’m scared to be alone. I’m worried I won’t heal properly.” His pale face and pleading eyes made her heart soften. Besides, she thought, the doctors and nurses would be looking out for me because of her. I would be fine. “Okay,” she sighed. “I’ll stay with you for a few more days.” Jason watched her sit back down before slowly closing his eyes. Meanwhile, in the morgue, an attendant was staring at my body. “It’s been two days and no one’s come to claim him. What are we supposed to do?” Another attendant was cleaning up. “What are you looking at? Let’s just get this done so we can go home.” Together, they unceremoniously shoved my body into a black bag. “Look at him. Died a pretty nasty death. Probably wasn’t a good person.” “Good, bad… they all look the same after cremation.” “True. Still a shame, though. So young.” 5. Two more days passed. Jason’s recovery was going well, and Kitty finally decided it was time to check on me. She walked into my room and found it empty. A nurse was stripping the bed. “Where’s the patient from this room?” The nurse looked up. “Oh, Dr. Evans. He was discharged.” A flicker of annoyance went through Kitty. I’d just had major surgery. What was I thinking, leaving the hospital instead of resting? She pulled out her phone and dialed my number. It went straight to voicemail. “Fine,” she muttered, her anger rising. “Go ahead and die out there for all I care.” She stormed back to Jason’s room. He immediately noticed her foul mood. “Is Ethan still angry? He won’t forgive you?” he asked, his voice full of concern. “It’s all my fault. I’ll go talk to him right now. I don’t want you two fighting because of me.” He made a show of trying to get out of bed, and Kitty rushed to stop him. “Don’t worry about him. You need to focus on getting better. That way, when Mom and Dad find out the good news on the day you’re discharged, they’ll be overjoyed.” “As for Ethan,” she added dismissively, “he’s not going to die. He’s already been discharged.” She remembered how I had begged her before the surgery, and a feeling of resentment bubbled up inside her. We were brothers. Why was I so unwilling to save him? And seeing Jason, always so considerate of me, only made my selfishness seem worse. Fine, she thought. If I was going to be so stubborn, then I could have some time to cool off on my own. It wouldn’t be too late to bring me back for Jason’s discharge party. Later, in the doctor’s lounge, her colleagues were laughing and joking around. The moment she walked in, they all fell silent. Kitty found it strange. “What were you all talking about?” 6. No one said a word. After a long, awkward pause, a colleague put her arm around Kitty’s shoulders. “What else? About how devoted you and your husband are to each other, of course.” Kitty thought about how I’d been forced to give up one of my hearts for her. She supposed, in a way, that did show how much I loved her. Even if I had been coerced, I had still helped her save a life. With that thought, she forgave my sudden disappearance. But the fact that I wasn’t answering her calls still infuriated her. Her colleague noticed her troubled expression. “Is your husband in a bad mood?” Kitty didn’t answer. “He just had surgery. It’s normal for him to be a little down,” the colleague continued. “Just be patient with him. Do something to cheer him up.” Kitty’s frown slowly smoothed out. She remembered how much I loved the pastries from the bakery near our apartment. She decided she’d go home after her shift. Carrying a box of pastries, she walked into our apartment. “Honey? I bought your favorite pastries.” Silence. As she set the box down, her eyes fell on the divorce papers I had left on the table a week ago. The moment she had told me to donate my heart, I had decided to leave her. Kitty stared at the papers in disbelief. Seriously? she thought. All this over one heart? How dare I try to divorce her over this? Furious, she threw the box of pastries into the trash. “If you don’t want this home, then don’t ever come back!” Just then, her phone rang. “Kitty? Where has Ethan been lately?” It was my father. He rarely called, and even more rarely asked about me. His world revolved around Jason. An idea formed in Kitty’s mind. My parents were the only ones who could get me to show my face. And Jason was almost fully recovered. So, she told my father about the surgery. 7. My parents rushed to the hospital that night. The moment Jason saw them, he burst into tears. The three of them clung to each other, a tableau of relieved grief. After a while, my parents asked about me. “Where’s your brother? He’s in the same department. He should be here to see you.” Jason hesitated. “He’s already been discharged.” My mother held Jason close. “Discharged? He certainly recovered quickly. Leaving the hospital just a few days after surgery. He’s probably going to get himself killed out there.” My father shot her a warning look. “Don’t say that. Even though Jason has a new heart, there’s no guarantee there won’t be complications. If Ethan dies, what will happen to Jason?” My mother quickly covered her mouth. “You’re right, you’re right. If anyone’s going to die, it should be after Jason is completely safe.” She turned to Jason, her voice full of love. “Don’t worry, darling. Your father and I will always protect you.” A warmth spread through Jason’s chest. The next day, Kitty walked into the room to find this idyllic family scene. For some reason, it bothered her. She had never seen my parents look at me with such affection. “Kitty, you’re here! We can’t thank you enough for saving Jason’s heart.” They were so grateful to her, but they didn’t mention my name once. Kitty asked if they had heard from me. The question immediately soured their mood. “Why are you worried about him? He’s been discharged, so he must be fine. You should be focused on Jason. Jason has always been so fragile, while Ethan has always been as strong as an ox.” My parents had always wanted to set Jason up with Kitty. They’d only held back because of his heart condition. Now, with me out of the picture, the path was clear for them. Before Kitty could say anything, a colleague walked in. “Dr. Evans, you take such good care of your husband. You’re here every day.” My parents beamed, assuming their wish was already coming true. A faint blush colored Jason’s cheeks. But Kitty’s face darkened with anger. “Who told you he was my husband?” 8. The colleague, oblivious to Kitty’s fury, just laughed. “Everyone in the department knows. Don’t be so modest.” She quickly left to attend to her other duties. My parents took Kitty’s hands. “Kitty, since Ethan isn’t here, and everyone already thinks Jason is your husband, it will ensure he gets better care.” Kitty saw the hurt expression on Jason’s face and swallowed her anger. Back in her office, before she could find her colleague to set the record straight, she was told her old mentor had arrived. She rushed to the director’s office. The moment she saw Dr. Peterson, she threw her arms around him. “Dr. Peterson! It’s been so long. How have you been?” He smiled, looking her over. “I heard you performed a heart transplant. The student has surpassed the master.” He reminisced about the surgery he had performed on her when she was a child, marveling at how she had followed in his footsteps. Kitty froze. “What surgery are you talking about?” Dr. Peterson was taken aback. “The heart transplant, of course. The one you had when you were a little girl.” The office was silent for a moment. Then, someone burst in. “Dr. Evans, you need to come quick! The family in room 32 is fighting!” Room 32. Jason’s room. She took off running. As she burst in, she heard someone shouting. “Don’t you dare deny it! My nephew donated his heart to your daughter!” Kitty rushed forward and pulled the two women apart. One of them was her mother, who looked at her with tear-filled, guilty eyes. The other woman, when she saw Kitty, started shouting again. “It was you! My nephew Ethan’s heart is inside you!” Kitty stared at her, her mind reeling. My words came rushing back to her. My heart is inside you.

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