Category: English

I secretly did a paternity test, but I couldn’t bring myself to open it. I couldn’t accept it… The daughter I’ve raised for seven years isn’t mine? It was a devastating blow to me. I smoked cigarette after cigarette, filling the entire office with a thick, suffocating cloud. It wasn’t until my assistant, Megan Carter, came in that I realized I needed to put it out. She asked, “Mr. Miller, are you okay today?” I forced a grim smile and shook my head, asking her what was on her mind. She placed a stack of files on my desk. “The project you’ve been working on has come through. It just needs your signature.” “Alright, leave it there.” I nodded. She hesitated, seeing how distracted I was, but then she turned and left without saying anything. I lit another cigarette, watching the smoke swirl around as it blurred my vision. It eventually settled on the paternity test that had been lying on my desk for days. I stared at it, lost in thought, for what felt like forever. I only snapped out of it when the cigarette burned down and singed my hand. With a deep breath, I slowly opened the envelope. It was something I had to face sooner or later. What was there to be afraid of? The result was clear: the daughter I had adored for seven years had no biological connection to me. “…” Strangely, when I saw the result, it felt like a huge weight had finally been lifted off my chest. I wasn’t upset or anxious anymore, but… oddly calm. In hindsight, I should’ve suspected something was off long ago. Seven years ago, I was still pursuing Samantha Bennett, but she didn’t show much interest in me. In fact, she seemed to dislike me. Then, out of the blue, she asked me out for dinner one night, got me drunk, and things naturally progressed from there. I didn’t use protection that night. She said it was fine, that she was in her safe period. The next few times we met, she didn’t ask me to use protection either. After that, her attitude toward me became softer. At least, she acknowledged I was her boyfriend. Not long after, she dropped a bombshell: she was pregnant and wanted to keep the baby. When she gave birth, it was a rough delivery. She nearly bled out. If it weren’t for the doctors’ quick thinking, both she and the baby might not have survived. I didn’t want her to ever go through that kind of pain again, so I got a vasectomy. Having one daughter was enough for me. Looking back now, I can’t believe how naive I was. I never questioned her for a second! Samantha knew who the baby’s father was from the start, which is why she had no problem with me not using protection. I had been played for a fool—just a convenient option to raise someone else’s kid. The child I’ve loved for seven years wasn’t mine at all. She was Jonathan Reed’s. What a joke! If I hadn’t come home early from that business trip, I might have never found out that I was raising another man’s child. Thank God for my daughter’s innocent honesty. If she hadn’t blurted it out, Samantha would’ve kept it hidden forever. Honestly, I wish I hadn’t found out. I wish she had kept this from me for life because now… everything has changed. Our marriage, which had seemed like a free-spirited romance, wasn’t simple at all. There were deeper, more complicated motives behind it.

Samantha’s and my family backgrounds weren’t all that different. Both of our families ran businesses. When I first pursued her, it wasn’t for her family’s money; my family wasn’t any worse off than hers. But over time, our families became business rivals. My father thought that marrying Samantha could help form an alliance between our companies. It was convenient because I’d already been pursuing her for quite a while. At the time, I didn’t know that our relationship would become so transactional. It wasn’t until she was pregnant, and I visited her family, that I realized there was more going on behind the scenes. Both of our parents laughed it off, saying, “What a coincidence! Business rivals on the surface, but in private, we’re becoming family!” Looking back, it’s ridiculous. Samantha and her family were using me. In fact, I’m certain this wasn’t a coincidence at all. It was a calculated move from the start. I had known for a long time that Samantha didn’t really like me. After we got married, she was cold and distant. But I convinced myself that the child was mine. I thought I had to take responsibility and make sure I didn’t let her down. I believed that if I was sincere enough, eventually, I would win her heart. I thought that over time, she’d feel the same love she had shown me in the beginning, when she seduced me so easily. But now, all my sincerity and good intentions feel like a joke. I’m the clown in this story. Lily, my daughter, seemed to know the truth all along. She knew she had another father… Could it be that whenever I left on business trips, the father she thought about wasn’t me? Samantha has been watching from the sidelines all these years, letting me run in circles, fooled by their lies. I must look ridiculous in her eyes—a perfect, unsuspecting fool. Haha. I don’t even know how to describe my feelings right now. I just know I’m strangely calm. Ding. A text message came through. It was from Samantha, which was rare. She hardly ever reached out to me first. “I heard you’ve been back from your trip for a few days? Why haven’t you come home? Lily’s been crying for you, saying she misses her daddy!” I let out a bitter chuckle, shaking my head. Crying for me? Or is she crying for the other dad? How can you, as her mother, not know which one she means? I’ve been home for a week now, but they didn’t seem to notice. The first message I get is today. I had planned to surprise them with my return, but instead, they’re the ones who surprised me—no, shocked me. I needed some time alone to cool off. Otherwise, I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep quiet about all of this. No man could stay calm after discovering something like this, pretending nothing had happened. I didn’t want to blow up in front of Lily. No matter what… she’s still an innocent child. So, I didn’t go home. I didn’t tell anyone. I stayed at the office, with Megan bringing me meals. I scrolled back through my messages, seeing the one I sent her that night after I found out the truth. I’d told her I’d landed a big project and would be busy for a while… and she hadn’t responded. Maybe she hadn’t even noticed it. Or maybe, like always, she just didn’t care what I had to say. I put down my phone and lit another cigarette. The ashtray on my desk was already filled to the brim with stubs. “Whoosh—” I exhaled a cloud of smoke, leaning back in my chair as I stared at the fading swirls. Exhaustion washed over me. What did I do wrong? Why would she do this to me? Was I trying to warm up a heart that couldn’t be warmed? Or… was I the one who was wrong from the start? Maybe it would’ve been better to remain in the dark.

I didn’t reply to Samantha’s text. She never had much patience with me, so it didn’t take long for her to call. Her voice was sharp and demanding right from the start. “Micah! What are you doing? Why aren’t you answering my texts?” “Oh, sorry. I’ve been busy at work…” I didn’t even finish before she cut me off, her voice dripping with impatience. “Work, work, work! Is that all you care about? Don’t you know you have a family? Don’t you realize your daughter needs you?” “…” I stayed silent, my mind buzzing. I wanted to ask her so badly: And you, Samantha? Don’t you know you have a husband? Does he know that his daughter isn’t even his? Does he know you’ve been lying to him all these years? The words stuck in my throat, and my eyes fell on the family photo on my desk—Lily’s bright, innocent smile staring back at me. I swallowed my anger. “She’s sick. Pick up some of her favorite snacks and bring them to the hospital,” she said coldly before hanging up. I stood there, listening to the dial tone with a bitter smile. Funny. Why didn’t she call the other dad for this? I could easily guess what had happened. Lily probably wore herself out playing too much, and now it was up to me to clean up the mess. I saw the location Samantha sent me, and as much as it filled me with humiliation and anger, I couldn’t bear to think of Lily looking so small and sick. Seven years. Seven years of loving this child. How could I not care about her? So I sighed, put on my coat, and went to buy her favorite snacks before heading to the hospital. When I got to the hospital room, I heard Lily’s voice through the door, clear as day: “Daddy Jonathan, look! I was so brave! I didn’t even cry when they gave me the shot. Wasn’t I the best?” Through the small glass window on the door, I saw him—Jonathan Reed, wearing a doctor’s coat, smiling at Lily. “Yes, you were so brave! Just like my little girl should be,” he said, ruffling her hair as she giggled. Beside them, Samantha’s face was soft, warm, and full of affection. In the seven years we’ve been married, I’ve never seen her look at me like that. My heart clenched. That man in the doctor’s coat—Jonathan Reed—was her first love. And now, as if life was mocking me, he was Lily’s real father. Watching their happy little family from the hallway, I felt a sudden, overwhelming sense of isolation. It was as if they were a family of three, and I… was just the outsider. No, scratch that. They are a family. Lily is their daughter. And I? I’m just the outsider. The joke. It felt like a weight was crushing my chest. I could barely breathe. Why did this hurt so much? I rushed here, bought her favorite snacks, thinking she needed me, only to find out the real reason they wanted me here was because Jonathan was the doctor on call. Lily got to see her biological dad, and Samantha got to be with the man she truly loved. And me? I’m nothing more than a joke. The biggest fool in the world.

It felt like a green light was flashing over me, head to toe, branding me as the fool. I stood frozen in place. I couldn’t move. It wasn’t until Jonathan noticed me standing outside that he adjusted his glasses and said, “Micah?” The moment my name left his lips, Samantha’s warm smile disappeared, replaced by her usual coldness. She didn’t even try to hide her contempt for me. “You’re finally here! Took you long enough! Lily hasn’t eaten a thing since she got sick. Are you trying to starve her?” Of course. The familiar tone. That suffocating pressure she always brings. It made me feel like I couldn’t breathe. “I’m sorry, Lily. Daddy’s late, but I brought you your favorite…” I forced a smile as I spoke to my daughter. Before I could even finish, Samantha cut me off again, her voice sharp. “What’s the point of showing up now? Dr. Reed already brought her food. You’re always too busy to be there for your own daughter, and it’s always left to someone else to take care of her!” Lily, always so “understanding,” added, “Thanks, Daddy! But Dr. Reed says I can’t have dessert after meals, haha.” I stared at her, the same little girl I’d loved for seven years, and felt a strange, bitter taste in my mouth. She probably thought she was being so considerate. But I couldn’t help it… For the first time, I felt a sense of unfamiliarity and… disgust toward the child I’d raised. It was as if she wasn’t mine anymore. And that “Dr. Reed”—just minutes ago, wasn’t she calling him “Daddy Jonathan”? She had grown up. She knew not to call him “Daddy” in front of me anymore, playing along with the lies Samantha had spun all these years. What a good daughter, huh? “So, Daddy waited in line for a long time to buy your favorite snacks. You don’t want them?” I held out the bag, but my expression was slipping. Lily hesitated. After all, they were her favorite treats. “Leave them. Lily didn’t eat much. She can have them as a snack later,” Jonathan said, always the rational doctor. Lily’s eyes lit up as she clapped her hands. “Yay! I get to have them later!” “No!” Samantha scolded from the side, her voice sharp. “You’ve already had dinner! No more snacks, especially after you’ve brushed your teeth. You don’t want to get cavities, do you? Be good and listen to Mommy.” She called me to buy the snacks, but now she’s the one making the rules. I was holding back my frustration, not wanting to lose my temper in front of Lily. “It’s fine. She’s still sick. She needs the sugar for energy. Besides, she’s growing. She could use the extra calories,” Jonathan chimed in, making it all seem so reasonable. Lily looked up at Samantha with those puppy eyes, silently pleading. “See, Mommy? Dr. Reed said it’s okay!” “Alright, just this once,” Samantha finally relented, and Lily cheered happily. “You spoil her too much,” she said to Jonathan, her tone warm and affectionate. “…” I stood there, feeling out of place, as if they had forgotten I existed. The room wasn’t that big. Four people could fit in it, but in their eyes, there were only three of them. I was nothing more than a ghost.

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“Tell me! How can I break the bond with this pen??” My arch-enemy, the teacher, now pushed me over the table and forced me to tell him the answer. Bro, I don’t know either!! “If you don’t tell me, I will be really rude.” He roughly unbuckled my belt, slid his hand down, and then pushed hard. He swears to repay me in the way I have been treated, and let me taste the pain I have inflicted on him. The recent math classes have been quite challenging, and I’m struggling to keep up. As a poor math student, I often roll my pen to relieve the pressure. I didn’t expect my strict math teacher to get so flustered, his face turning red as he glared at me. “Jimmy, put down the pen in your hand! Stop turning it! Listen carefully!” This teacher must be sick today. I wasn’t distracted. Two days later, it was the same teacher who was my archenemy. Still this unruly me, Two 1.80-meter-tall boys were staring at each other in the hotel, and the atmosphere was very ambiguous.

Bran is our new math teacher in the postgraduate entrance examination class. He was so tall and handsome, an absolute male god. As soon as he stepped onto the podium, even the female students who usually loathed math began to pay close attention. While listening, he continued, “Teacher, please say more.” “Teacher, what else?” That’s not all. After class, they would surround him and ask him questions. Even my goddess, who looks like a fairy, is an absolute academic master They would come to our class just to seek Bran’s help, all for a chance to talk to him. I felt a surge of jealousy!! Very jealous! Very jealous! Bran is simply the public enemy of all boys! But I can’t deny my envy. Those long legs, that handsome face, and his clear, humorous teaching style—it’s no wonder even I find myself wanting to listen to his lectures, let alone my goddess. Though I may not excel in my studies, I know my own limitations. There is no way I can compare to this kind of male god teacher. It’s better to get along well with him and take the opportunity to get close to the goddess. Who knew that when I took the test paper to ask questions, he actually called me stupid in front of the goddess, which made me very angry. I vowed to get my revenge on him if I ever got the chance. And now, that opportunity has arrived…

“If you say you don’t want to transfer, then don’t transfer. You are meddling too much.” I grumbled unhappily, slipping the pen under the table and continuing to spin it secretly. “I’ll just spin, and I’ll keep spinning.” A hundred pounds of rebelliousness made me keep repeating the movements on the tip. I imagined that the pen in my hand was Bran’s ** “Hmph, I’ll get back at you for embarrassing me in front of the goddess.” Unexpectedly, Bran suddenly turned his back to us on the podium and held onto the blackboard. An unusual blush crept across his face. Bang! The pen in my hand slipped and fell to the ground. Sorry, my pen-spinning skills aren’t very good. “Hey, let me pick it up,” I said. Unexpectedly, my deskmate accidentally stepped on the pen. “Ah!~~” Bran suddenly screamed, leaned on the desk in pain, and beads of sweat appeared on his face. “Teacher, are you okay?” the female student in the front row asked with concern. “No…it’s okay, this is the question, everyone can study on your own from now on.” I stood up and saw Bran sitting down with a strange expression on his face, hunched over. Tsk, it’s not like you’re a girl and you don’t have your period, why are you being so sissy? I started to do the questions unhappily, holding the pen tightly in my hand. I didn’t know the answer to this question, and I didn’t know the answer to this one either. I started staring blankly forward, biting the pen cap. Little did I know, Bran was up at the podium, growing increasingly impatient and practically hating me. “Strange, why is the ink leaking when I just changed the refill?” I quickly found a napkin to wipe it, and the teacher’s expression on the podium seemed to slowly relax.

After class, The female classmates were gossiping about what happened to the teacher today and whether he was feeling unwell. I was the only one who shivered when Bran yelled at me. “Jimmy, get out here.” Damn, did this teacher take medicine today? The boys all looked at me with sympathy, and the girls all stared at me strangely as if I had really done something outrageous. “Jimmy, you don’t pay attention in class, why are you spinning your pen? Are you still studying?” I was just about to retort, but when I looked up and met Bran’s eyes, I was stunned. The teacher’s face was obviously flushed, and her angry look revealed a hint of shyness. What’s going on? I thought to myself, why is this expression exactly the same as the heroines in some movies I watched during my adolescence? If the girls in our class saw this, they would be so fascinated. “I’m talking to you! What are you daydreaming about? Where’s your pen? Take it out now! I’m confiscating it!” “It’s… in the drawer.” At this time, the teacher of the next class came to my rescue, “Mr. Zhong’s class is over.” “Ah, it’s over. The next class is yours, right?” Bran smiled and said, but then his expression changed immediately. He held my shoulder and said to me sinisterly, “You are not allowed to play with pens in this class. Bring your pens to me after class, or we will never be together again.” It’s funny, you really think I’m still a primary school student, Just spinning a pen is enough to get it confiscated? No one would care about that. Once class was over, I headed straight for the basketball court, giving it my all. And I brought this pen with me.

no sooner said than done. On the court, I took a step to the left and turned to the right. Let the pen fully rub against the fabric of the pants. If friction generates heat, then as it gets hot, Teacher Bran on the other side must be feeling very uncomfortable. If you shoot one more basketball and jump a little more, you can increase the momentum on the y-axis. It’s hard to say whether you can bear it or not. “Nice shot!” My long-range three-point shot earned me the admiration of many. Just when I was feeling proud of myself, someone suddenly pointed at my pants and said there was something black. When I looked down, I saw that the damn pen had leaked ink again. This time, it had completely stained my pants. “You guys go ahead and fight, I’m going to the bathroom.” After nodding goodbye to the guys, I headed to the single restroom behind the stadium with my ink-stained pants It’s a bit of a walk, but it’s a private restroom, and usually, no one goes in or out, making it easy for me to take off my pants and try to clean them up. But as soon as I stepped inside, I saw a familiar figure. I was wiping up the mess with some paper, not really paying attention, when I realized—Bran?! He didn’t look like the suave teacher he usually was. It was hilarious and a bit embarrassing to see him like this. Turns out, even though Bran’s the heartthrob teacher, he’s no different from us regular guys in moments like these. But before I could even laugh, he spotted me, grabbed my arm, and pulled me in, pinning me against the wall. “Having fun, aren’t you?” “Uh, what do you mean, Teacher?” “Don’t play dumb with me. You’re the reason I’ve been so uncomfortable.” I looked at him—handsome, sophisticated, way out of my league—and swallowed hard. He really was something. “What…?” “Still not admitting it, huh?” Bran grabbed my chin and pressed a rough kiss onto my mouth. Instantly, my mind went blank and my hands and feet went weak. That was…that was my first kiss! I’d been waiting four years in college for this, saving my first kiss until I got into grad school so I could finally give it to my dream girl! “Jimmy, if you keep doing this, I will use you to relieve my sexual desire tomorrow instead of my mouth.”

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When my daughter and I were abducted, the kidnappers demanded that I call Sean for assistance. At that time, he was with Luna, who had just entered the profession, learning anatomical analysis. When he received the call, he merely said one sentence. “How long are you going to play such pranks? I’m occupied with important matters. I’m hanging up now.” I wept while laughing. Perhaps he had never cared about my daughter and me. But why did he go berserk and shout when he later saw my daughter’s body on the dissection table? “She’s going to die, Sean, she’s going to die. Please…” “Is it amusing to joke about death? Then go ahead and die.” When the call was ended, I was plunged into the depths of despair. My mobile phone was snatched away forcefully, and I was kicked and spat upon. “Pah, can’t come up with five million? Then don’t blame me!” Jenny, huddled behind me, was trembling all over. Finally unable to hold back her tears, she sobbed softly and asked me – “Mommy, why doesn’t Daddy want to come and save us?” I didn’t know how to respond. I shook my head, crying and attempting to embrace her, but suddenly she was yanked away by the kidnappers. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. This little girl is rather lovely.” Realizing what might transpire next, I fought like a madwoman to hold onto Jenny. I couldn’t hold her. I couldn’t hold her. I couldn’t protect her. I was trampled on the ground and kicked numerous times. I watched Jenny crying her heart out, my teeth clenched so tightly that they seemed on the verge of breaking, and my fingertips pierced through my palms, leaving them bloody and mangled. But all of this was insignificant compared to the pain Jenny was enduring. I knelt on the ground and kowtowed to each of them, banging my head until it bled, pleading with them to release Jenny. I could… Later, they grew impatient. Just as the ashtray was about to smash against the back of my head, for some unknown reason, everything came to an abrupt halt. The robbers gathered their belongings and fled in all directions. When the door was kicked open with a “bang”, I was crawling on all fours towards Jenny. I was trembling violently. I didn’t dare to touch her or look at her. Jenny slowly reached out her blood – smeared hand to touch my face. “Mommy, Mommy, don’t cry. Jenny doesn’t hurt…” “Winnie,Winnie, it’s okay, it’s okay…” A man in a police uniform appeared before me. I cried and begged him. “Brother Henry, save Jenny, save her…” I don’t recall how I left that place. All I know is that I was delirious and incoherent until I received the assurance that Jenny would be fine. Then I finally passed out completely. I struggled out of the endless nightmare with such hope. But when I awoke, Henry informed me that Jenny was on the verge of death. “Sorry,Winnie…” When I rushed into the intensive care unit, Jenny’s breathing was already extremely weak. She still managed to smile obediently at me, a smile that was both difficult and painful. She seemed to be aware that she was going to die. She said, “Mommy, I want to see Daddy one more time.” “I want to remember you both…” I nodded frantically, tears streaming down my face. I hurriedly took my mobile phone from Henry and dialed the number that had been silent all this time. “Beep -” It was promptly hung up. My heart was pounding faster and faster. Answer the phone, answer the phone, Sean. On the third call, he still didn’t answer. Each one was hung up without hesitation. I ceased calling. I held Jenny’s hand and begged her to wait for me to return. I promised to come back with Daddy. I rushed out of the ward and was stopped by Henry. I was in such a hurry that I thought he was going to prevent me. I shook off his hand and told him to leave me alone and not stop me. Finally, he drove at high speed and took me to the research institute where Sean and Luna were. I wasn’t an authorized person in the research institute, so I couldn’t enter. Actually, Luna wasn’t either, but she was granted access by Sean’s special permission. I stood at the entrance and called Sean’s name loudly. “Sean -” I called again and again until my voice became hoarse. Finally, Sean frowned and pulled open the curtain on the second floor. His expression was extremely cold, and his brows still bore the lingering traces of annoyance and displeasure. “Winnie, what on earth do you want?” “Do you have to come to the research institute to embarrass me?”

I intended to explain the situation briefly, but before I could utter a word, Sean turned his head. He was drawn by a soft and joyous voice. “Master, I understand! I know why it’s like this here! Master, come quickly, I’ll tell you!” When looking at Luna, Sean’s eyes were always so tender. It had been many years since I had been gazed at so gently. Sean and I were experiencing the seven – year itch. He wouldn’t mention divorce, nor would he think that he no longer loved me. He just wasn’t as interested as before, not as excited. He regarded me as a stagnant pool. When Luna entered his world, she was like a ray of light, illuminating him. So he was enchanted and couldn’t help but be kind to her. I didn’t care. I truly didn’t care. As long as he was willing to come back with me, everything would be fine. “Okay, I’m coming.” “Yeah, it’s nothing. Don’t worry.” How I wished I could tell him that there was something, really something. But he had already lifted his foot and left, never looking back at me. But I wasn’t willing to give up. I didn’t want Jenny to depart with eternal regret. So I asked Henry to leave first, to keep an eye on Jenny’s condition and contact me at any time. I wanted to stay here and take Sean away. But why was it so arduous? The security guards no longer permitted me to call Sean, believing that it would disrupt many people. They warned me that if I made any more noise, they would eject me directly. Later, I could only keep sending him messages and calling him. I told him that Jenny was dying and wanted to see him one last time. Then, I was blocked on WeChat, and my phone number was also added to the blacklist. He still didn’t believe me. I had never been more desolate than at this moment. I waited and waited outside the door until I saw Luna coming downstairs to get milk tea. “Master, I’m here to get the milk tea you ordered for me. Haha, Master, you have such a great memory. I only mentioned my preference once, and you remembered it!” “Okay, okay, I got it. The road is slippery on rainy days. Be careful when you walk! Master, you’re so nagging -” When passing by me, she let out an “ah”. “Madam, you’re still here? Haven’t given up yet?” “Alas, Madam, such tricks are so passé. You should read fewer of those old – fashioned romance novels. They’re so silly.” Luna’s seemingly innocent remarks were actually like countless needles piercing my heart, without any mercy. But I had no alternative. She was the only person who could get in touch with Sean. So I bowed to her and swore a solemn oath with my life to prove the truth of my words. I implored her to believe me and to go and inform Sean. What did Luna say at that time? She said, “Oh my god, how pitiful. Madam, don’t worry. I’ll go and tell Master!” Then, Sean didn’t come. During my interminable waiting, I received the news that Jenny’s condition had taken a sudden turn for the worse. I didn’t dare to linger. I rushed back to the hospital at top speed. That was the last time I saw Jenny. She couldn’t even lift her hand. I didn’t dare to hold her hand too tightly. I was trembling all over. I was afraid that she would ask me – Mommy, where’s Daddy? How should I reply? She didn’t ask. She said to me in a hoarse and feeble voice: “Mommy, Jenny loves you, so much, so much…” At the last moment of her life, she silently uttered that word – Daddy. My Jenny was calling for Daddy. But her Daddy didn’t come and wouldn’t come. My Jenny didn’t get to see Daddy one last time and left this world with regret. It was pouring rain that day. And I had lost my daughter forever.

“Jenny’s homeroom teacher said that Jenny hasn’t been to school for two days. She couldn’t find you, so she called me.” “Winnie, what on earth are you doing?” “I told you that Luna is a promising talent. I, I admire her a great deal. The relationship between me and her is a normal teacher – student relationship. Do you have to go crazy just because I like her?” “Don’t have time to talk about this. Hurry up and send Jenny back to school.” The first call that Sean had made in such a long time was a rebuke. I listened expressionlessly and then hung up. At that time, I hadn’t slept for three days. I watched with my own eyes as Jenny’s body was placed into the freezer, and since then, I could scarcely close my eyes. I didn’t have Jenny anymore. I had lost her forever. Henry said that to extract the DNA evidence left by the criminals in Jenny’s body and to conduct a series of identifications, an autopsy had to be performed. He said that the expert invited for the identification was quite busy and had to wait until he was free, so Jenny had to be put into the freezer to be preserved for a while. During these days, Henry was concerned about my mental state and had taken almost all the leave he could. “Winnie, eat something. How can you catch those scoundrels if you continue like this?” I wanted to eat too. But whenever I ate something, I would always vomit it out. I had no option. I really had no option. When I vomited until there was only acid in my stomach again, I finally couldn’t hold on and collapsed. And was caught by Henry, who was quick – witted and deft – handed. He carried me away from this place close to Jenny and walked towards the hospital. And we encountered the last person I wanted to see. “Henry, Winnie, why are you two together?” Before he could finish frowning and asking, Luna, who was behind him, tugged at his sleeve and whined pitifully. “Master, my hand hurts…” Only then did I notice the small wound on Luna’s wrist. It wasn’t deep, nor was it that severe. But it was sufficient to make Sean feel sympathetic towards her. He didn’t even concern himself with us and simply left with Luna. When leaving, he only said one sentence – “Have some decency.” “I’m not dead yet.” Just as he was about to turn around and leave, I suddenly spoke. My voice was hoarse and unpleasant due to vomiting for many days, rough like stones grating, as if I was muttering to myself. “Sean, you might as well be dead.” When I lay in bed, sleepless all night, the next morning, the door of the ward was pushed open violently. “Winnie, finally found you.” “What are you crazy about?” “Where’s the child? Where’s Jenny? Where did you hide her?” I stared at him numbly and suddenly laughed. Tears slid down from the corners of my eyes, wetting my clothes. I had cried so many times these days that when the tears slid past the corners of my eyes, a sharp pain like countless needles pricking my heart emerged. I opened my hoarse voice: “Sean, Jenny is gone.” Sean frowned fiercely and strode towards me, grasping my wrist. “Winnie, are you ill?” “Is this something to joke about?” His grip was surprisingly strong, and soon my wrist turned red. Looking at him like this, suddenly I felt a wave of nausea rising again. I vomited. There was nothing in my stomach to vomit except acid and some blood. Sean was a bit of a germophobe. Seeing me like this, he took several steps back. I vomited until my throat burned as if on fire, and then I stopped. I reached for the bag on the cabinet and with some difficulty pulled out a document from it. With all my strength, I threw it in front of Sean. Sean didn’t pick it up. “Sean, let’s get a divorce.” Just then, the door of the ward was opened by someone. “Winnie, I bought fresh millet porridge. The doctor said that your stomach has been in a bad state because you haven’t eaten for too long. You can only drink some porridge first…” Sean glanced at the divorce agreement on the floor and then at Henry who pushed the door and entered. He suddenly sneered sarcastically. “Winnie, so eager to get a divorce. Is it because of him?” “When you married me, you swore that you would only love me for a lifetime. Has your lifetime become so short so quickly?” Sean was a cold person and didn’t like to argue. But once he was serious, his words were like thorny cacti, stabbing painfully. “Winnie, I never thought you were this kind of person.” “To run away with another man for the sake of divorce and hide your own daughter. You can do such things.” “You want a divorce, okay. Jenny will be raised by me. As for you, this irresponsible mother, I won’t let her see you again.” My breathing suddenly became rapid. I grabbed the water glass on the bedside and threw it at Sean with all my might. I really had no strength left. I missed. I was crying, every word like blood. “With you? How? “Jenny is gone. She left. She’s dead!” This word “dead” was the one I had been reluctant to mention all along. Now, in front of Sean, I made myself a broken mess again. Pillows, books, mobile phones, I lost control of my emotions and threw everything I could at him. Finally, exhausted, I collapsed on the ground and was caught by Henry. I knew Henry was clenching his fists tightly. He wanted to hit Sean. But his identity didn’t allow him to make mistakes. I shook my head at him. Sean stood there for a long, long time. Finally, he just threw one sentence at me – “Winnie, you’re simply irrational.” He turned to leave, and Henry said in a calm voice. “On the third floor of the freezer room in District B, Jenny is there.” Sean sneered. “You two, quite good at acting.” “My daughter is gone. How could I not know?” Haha, right. How could he not know?

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When I got engaged to my boyfriend, his first love returned from abroad with twins. His ex cried to me, “If you hate me, take it out on me. But Asher and I are truly in love. We already have children together. You wouldn’t want to be the other woman, would you?” I just laughed. Looking down at her with my height advantage, I said, “First, I’m only taking back what’s mine. Second, Asher and I got together after you two broke up. If anyone’s the other woman here, it’s you coming to ruin my engagement party.” When I saw Asher hugging his ex and their twins, I smiled. The way his ex looked at me seemed to say, “What are you so proud of? You’re just a supporting character.” She must think she’s the heroine of some cheesy romance drama. With her plain looks and apparent lack of brains, she wouldn’t be giving me that challenging look otherwise. After all, this was my engagement party with Asher. But I knew this engagement was over, and Asher and I would never make it to the altar. Asher solemnly told me, “Rachel, I’m sorry. The one I truly love is Zora.” The banquet hall suddenly erupted in chatter. After all, I was young, beautiful, highly educated, capable, and from a good family – far superior to Asher’s poor ex in every way. Only Asher’s friends looked at him approvingly, seemingly moved by his devotion. They even gave me pitying looks, as if mocking a jilted woman. Birds of a feather really do flock together. I had loved Asher for so many years, willingly giving him everything. But it only takes a moment to lose all respect for someone. I took off the diamond ring and tossed it at Asher, saying nonchalantly, “Fine. Then let’s settle our accounts.” Asher was stunned. “What accounts?” What a stupid question. “All those years I helped manage your company and invested in you – you think that was all for free? Do I look like some fool who works for love?” Asher seemed shocked by my decisiveness. He was speechless. His ex Zora stepped forward crying to speak for him. “Miss Song, you’re so wealthy. The money you invested in Asher is just pocket change to you. Why are you being so petty?” Asher’s friends chimed in too. “Yeah Rachel, you don’t look like you’re hurting for money.” “Are you just lashing out because you’re humiliated?” “Getting dumped at your own engagement party is pretty embarrassing.” Asher at least had some conscience and tried to stop them. “That’s enough, guys.” “Miss Song…” Zora said tearfully, “If you hate me, take it out on me. But Asher and I are truly in love. We already have children together. You wouldn’t want to be the other woman, would you?” I just laughed. This poor thing thought she had the moral high ground and was trying to paint me as the villain. What a hypocrite. Looking down at her with my height advantage, I said, “First, I’m only taking back what’s mine. Second, Asher and I got together after you two broke up. If anyone’s the other woman here, it’s you coming to ruin my engagement party.” Zora immediately put on an extremely wronged expression, tears streaming down her face. Asher looked pained, as if wanting to defend his precious ex. I spoke up before he could: “Asher, you should know my patience is limited.”

Sure enough, Asher backed down. We went to a private club where I was a member. Oh, and Zora came along with her twins too. Asher and I sat facing each other, while Zora tended to the kids nearby, occasionally glancing our way. Asher said, “Rachel, I’ll pay back everything I owe you, but I don’t have that much capital right now. Could you…” “If you don’t have the money, give me the projects you’re working on.” Since we were breaking up, might as well make a clean break. My decisiveness seemed to keep surprising Asher. He stared at me in shock. Zora was the typical stay-at-home mom type, clearly clueless about business matters. But when she heard I wanted to take Asher’s projects, she immediately spoke up. “That’s not right! Rachel, those projects are all Asher’s…” I was nauseated just hearing Zora’s voice now. She thought she was helping Asher? Wrong! I may be cool-headed, but I’m not magnanimous. Her voice was a constant reminder that my relationship ended because of this homewrecker. “Do you have any right to speak here?” Zora was immediately silenced, looking wronged and pitiful as if I was bullying her. Naturally, Asher was unhappy with how I spoke to his beloved ex. “Rachel, Zora doesn’t know anything about this. Why are you being so harsh?” He turned to Zora and said, “Those projects were all negotiated by Rachel herself. It’s only fair for her to take them.” I laughed, amused by Asher’s naivety. “Of course I’m taking the projects I negotiated myself. I’m talking about the ones you’re working on.” Asher was shocked. “What do you mean?” I sneered, “You said you don’t have capital. So use your projects to pay me back. Is that so hard to understand?” Asher’s expression darkened, as if holding back anger. “Rachel, do you have to be so ruthless? Can’t we even remain friends?” Friends? A man who abandoned me at our engagement party wants to be friends? What a joke. I’d like to demand fairness from Asher, but him dumping me at the engagement was an irrefutable fact – and a lesson learned. I told Vincent very seriously, “I have no obligation to do that.”

In the end, I forcefully took not only the projects I had negotiated myself, but also picked two of Asher’s most profitable ones. These two projects would make a huge profit, far exceeding all the money I had invested in Asher over the years. Having gotten what I wanted, I left. As I walked out, I could still hear Zora’s tearful complaints and the kids’ noisy cries. I couldn’t be bothered with them anymore. My focus now was on cashing in. … For years, I had been busy revolving around Asher, rarely returning to my own company. The project handovers went very smoothly. Besides the ones I had personally handled, one of the projects I took from Asher immediately agreed to work with me. Only one was still hesitant, saying they needed to evaluate further. Since my company’s business scope didn’t overlap much with Asher’s, they were concerned I might lack expertise. The next morning, I had an appointment to meet their person in charge, still at that same club. I didn’t expect the person who came would be Vincent. He was Asher’s uncle. In all my years dating Asher, I had only met him twice, including this time. Vincent had a very strong presence. From the first time I met him, I was a bit intimidated by him. Well, just a tiny bit. Vincent smiled at me, very gentlemanly and elegant, but also giving off an oppressive aura. “Why don’t you come in?” Vincent was like someone who believed in Buddha but acted like a demon. My instincts told me this man was dangerous. Asher was his nephew – why would he agree to work with me on this project? Could he be seeking revenge for his nephew? I walked in and sat across from Vincent, forcing myself to smile. “Hello, Mr. Shen.” Vincent seemed to be in a good mood. “You remember me?” How could I forget such an important figure? I said, “Of course. I met you last year when Asher took me home for dinner.” Vincent kept smiling. “I’m honored to have left such a deep first impression on you.” This was typical Vincent – smiling and speaking pleasantly, but I still had to be on guard. I was afraid he might stab me while smiling.

I decided not to pursue this project anymore. It wasn’t that I was scared, but I knew when to cut my losses. Before Vincent could make his move, I decisively cut off his line of attack. “Mr. Shen, I’m sure you know about my situation with Asher. I think we should call off our cooperation.” Vincent just calmly asked, “Why?” Did he really need to ask? Didn’t he know the reason? “Then why did you agree to work with me?” I countered. Wasn’t it to get revenge for his nephew? Vincent stared into my eyes. “For you.” I was suddenly dumbfounded, not just by Vincent’s words, but by the way he looked at me. That blatant possessiveness made it hard for me to breathe. I also didn’t understand what he meant by those three words. “What do you mean?” Vincent sat up straight, smiling at me. “Can’t you tell? I’m pursuing you.” His tone was light and ambiguous at the end. It gave me goosebumps. I had just broken up with his nephew, and now he was pursuing me? Who would believe that? I was even more furious now. I felt like Vincent was treating me like a fool. “Vincent, do you think I’m that easy to fool?” The way Vincent looked at me seemed appreciative, as if my anger was something very interesting to him. He said, “I’m not fooling you.” I tried to stay calm despite my anger. “We’ve only met twice.” “Who says I can’t fall for you at first sight?” Vincent asked as if it was the most natural thing, his expression unreadable. I wasn’t intimidated by him at all now. Anger made me feel invincible. I challenged him, “I was still Asher’s girlfriend then. You fell for your future niece-in-law at first sight?” “Is there a problem with that? I only started pursuing you after you broke up. I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong.” He spoke casually, making perfect sense. But I just couldn’t believe it. This came too suddenly, and at such a time. I had to be cautious. “I don’t like you…” “That’s why I’m pursuing you,” Vincent interrupted me. “This project is just my way of getting close to you. If it makes you uncomfortable, you can cancel the cooperation anytime. But I’ll continue pursuing you.” He seemed very persistent, as if he really was interested in me. The project matter was temporarily set aside. I stood up. “Let’s end the discussion here. I have other matters to attend to.” I nodded at him and started walking away. Just as I reached the door, I heard Vincent call out to me. He called my name. “Rachel.” I turned to look at him. He had also stood up and was walking towards me. Vincent was even taller than Asher, definitely over 6’1″. With his strong presence, I felt a sense of pressure as soon as he approached me. I hated feeling at a disadvantage like this. I raised my chin. “What?” Vincent stopped in front of me. I caught a whiff of his faint cologne – light and ethereal, hard to pinpoint the exact scent, but very pleasant. He asked me, “Am I inferior to Asher in any way?” I can’t believe Vincent would ask such a question. So he was human after all. “To be honest, you’re better than Asher in every way.” Asher wasn’t my boyfriend anymore. I had no reason to idealize him. Vincent asked again, “Then why don’t you like me?” Vincent’s questions always made me feel like we were talking past each other. I was analyzing objective factors, while he kept subjectively challenging me. I decided to be straightforward. “Vincent, I think you’re trying to get revenge on me for Asher.” Vincent was stunned for a moment, then laughed. “I see. It’s my mistake. I shouldn’t have mixed business with personal matters. I understand why you’re so guarded.” I breathed a sigh of relief. Once things were out in the open, the rest would follow naturally. “Then let’s call off our cooperation.” “Alright,” Vincent readily agreed.

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My dad is Graham Merritt, CEO of Merritt Media, the largest media company in the country. My mom, Audrey Taylor-Merritt, is a retired Oscar-winning actress. And my brother, Lucas Merritt, is one of the hottest idols out there. The second I started at Blackwood School of Drama, gossip headlines started popping up about “Merritt Media’s youngest daughter entering her first year.” Naturally, my fame-hungry roommate wasted no time jumping on that: “Thank you all for the attention! I really want to focus on my studies, so I hope I can keep a low profile and avoid affecting others.” But within days, the truth was out: Merritt Media’s true princess was someone else. Content “Thank you, everyone, for the attention! As I’m just starting college, I’d really like to keep things low-key and just focus on my studies. I’d appreciate it if my wonderful fans could respect this and not disturb others,” Talia Owens posted on Twitter. Seeing Talia’s post, I couldn’t help but laugh. Just her luck, she was using her stage training from Horizon Pictures to play this one out right in front of me. This all started on the day we moved in. Somehow, a tabloid that must’ve missed the memo from my dad’s company put out the headline “Merritt Media CEO’s Daughter Begins at Blackwood School of Drama.” Let me tell you, any company that’s been around a minute knows Graham Merritt’s “other daughter” is off-limits—an untouchable topic. So, who dared to grab the tiger by the whiskers? More shocking was seeing someone so desperate for fame cling to my family’s name. The culprit? None other than my brand-new roommate, Talia Owens. To be fair, Talia had some convenient qualifications: we share a last name. She’s “Owens,” my dad’s “Merritt.” She was in a popular web series once, blew up for her “innocent girl-next-door” vibe, and picked up five million fans overnight. By the time she enrolled, she was already Blackwood’s newest “campus beauty” and had shot to the top of Trending News. As soon as people found out she was in my Drama Program, our group chat lit up like a bonfire: “OMG! She’s like a real-life princess!” “Ahhh! Are we gonna get to act with the campus queen?!” Right now, seeing her headline, our roommates turned their starry eyes on Talia, piling on the praise: “Talia, who knew you were the daughter of Merritt Media’s CEO? Oh my god, we’re practically royalty by association!” “Oh wow, Talia, does that mean Lucas Merritt is your real brother?! Can you get me his autograph?!” “Talia, your family must have incredible resources lined up for you! Mind if you bring me along? I’d be thrilled with any role—even a maid!” I couldn’t help but smirk at their comments. What a pipe dream. Lucas Merritt? He’s my brother. The real one. They may get that autograph, but a part in one of our productions? Good luck with that. All these people dreaming of shortcuts—first-year students who haven’t even acted in a real show yet, putting fame ahead of developing any skills. Could they even handle a speaking role? I opened my own account and posted a tweet under the trending hashtag: “Some people… Not exactly famous, but sure do love to jump on it.” Of course, some of Talia’s fans stormed over to my page, yelling: “Why don’t you keep your opinions to yourself?” “Yeah, she’s talking about you! Stop clinging to Talia’s fame!” I ignored them. The truth would come out eventually. The only one who took issue with my attitude was Erika Banks, another classmate hoping for any part she could get. She smirked: “What’s so funny? Not everyone gets a family background like that, let alone has the looks to match. What’s with the snobby attitude?” “Exactly!” someone else chimed in. “What’s with the acting high and mighty?” Oh, please. They’d lose it if they knew. All their so-called idols practically bow down to me. I’ve got exclusive signed merch stacked in our basement. They shower me with well-wishes every holiday, terrified I might just forget them. Talia gave a soft, humble smile. “Look, we’re all here for the same reason. Some classmates may come from humble backgrounds, but we’re all here because of our acting dreams. We can’t let status divide us.” Erika sighed. “Oh, Talia, you’re too kind. But some people… They should at least know their place. I mean, Chloe, I don’t see any designer on you. Maybe your family isn’t all that. You could never compare to Talia. Remember, some people just rank higher.” Talia quickly interrupted, “Let’s not get into comparisons, everyone. It’s really not necessary.” Right then, my dad called. I ignored them all and stepped out to take it on the balcony. “Hey, is my little girl alright? I just saw the trending topics, and I’ve already got someone taking them down. You don’t need to deal with this.” Hearing “little girl” from my dad—a serious, professional guy—was enough to make me shiver. “No, don’t worry about it. Just let it be.” “Really? You sure you’re okay, kiddo?” “Absolutely.” Let’s see what game she tries to play next. “When are you coming home? I miss you so much.” Rolling my eyes, I nearly got a headache. “Dad, it’s only the third day of college.” Seriously. Someone, rein in this “daughter-obsessed” dad, please.

My name’s Chloe Merritt. My dad is Graham Merritt, CEO of the biggest media company in the US. My mom, Audrey Taylor-Merritt, is an Oscar-winning actress who retired from the spotlight, and my brother Lucas is a top-tier idol. Why “Merritt” and not “Taylor?” Well, my mom had this thing when she was pregnant with me; she decided that if I took her last name, it would prove Dad’s love for her. And Dad, being head-over-heels in love and slightly henpecked, of course, said yes. Plus, when I was a kid, I got separated from Mom once at a fan event. One of her more obsessed fans cornered me in a women’s restroom, taking photos non-stop for three hours until my family found me. It left me with a hefty case of crowd anxiety and claustrophobia. For years, I couldn’t be left alone and had to sleep with a nightlight. I spent years in therapy, but finally got through it. That’s why my parents have always gone the extra mile to protect my privacy, letting every major media outlet know they’re to delete any shot of me. Keeping “Taylor” kept me out of the spotlight and let me enjoy a “normal” ten years. The downside? Missing out on the “privilege” of being seen as Graham Merritt’s daughter. I also prefer not to flaunt designer labels—feels tacky. Most of my wardrobe comes from my aunt, who designs clothes in Europe. She makes me unique pieces, and no one else in the world—royalty included—has them. I’ve always kept my family away from school. But the night before college, Dad paced around my room, Mom teared up on my bed, and my brother patiently packed my bags. “Sweetheart, what if Dad drops you off at school tomorrow?” “Absolutely not. If you show up, the school president will practically roll out a red carpet.” “Well, how about Mom? I’m out of the public eye anyway.” “Right. Tell that to Director John Carson, who stopped by last week trying to pull you back for a new movie.” “What if your brother…” “Nope. The whole dorm would get mobbed by his fans.” The thought made me shudder. The hypnotherapy helped block most memories, but I still can’t face crowds comfortably. Best to avoid it when I can. Seeing how adamant I was, they finally backed down. So, on move-in day, our butler, Mr. Benson, drove me to school in the oldest, beat-up SUV we own. He dressed like your average grandpa doing groceries. Totally low-key. Mr. Benson has worked for our family for over twenty years, and I see him as a relative. His style might be plain, but he’s been nothing but dedicated to our family. And trust me, we pay him well. Of course, that’s not what my roommates thought. To them, my “status” looked pretty low. At first, I had no issues with Talia Owens. But when I just barely made the “campus beauty” list, she felt her thunder stolen. Ever since then, she’s been subtly digging at me, throwing shade about my family’s background and mocking my “lack of style.”

Since that vague Twitter post, Talia’s popularity skyrocketed, and our dorm became a VIP shrine for her. Returning from class one day, I found her surrounded by gift bags and fan letters. Erika eagerly grabbed the things and set them on Talia’s bed, picking up some high-end gifts along the way. “Oh wow, a Cartier bracelet! So luxe.” “And this LV bag? I’ve been wanting it for ages!” “Look, Chanel’s collector’s perfume!” “Uh, and what are these… slippers?” “Get a grip,” Talia scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Those are Fendi. Worth over $1,000. I’d expect you to recognize them.” Erika gasped. “Seriously?!” Talia tossed her a Dior perfume, smirking. “Here, it’s yours.” Erika hugged the bottle, asking, “Who sent you all this?” “Who else?” Talia replied, “My fans, of course.” Watching her show off, I hit record on my phone, capturing everything. “Every time, I say I don’t need anything, but the second I hint at it on Twitter, they’re practically throwing gifts at me,” she said, laughing. “Honestly, it’s a waste. One fan even ‘bought’ me a star for my birthday—like, what am I supposed to do with that? I’d rather they send things I can actually enjoy.” “Every letter they send goes right into the trash. As if I have time to read them.” I felt a pang for her fans, for every person who spent hard-earned money, showing her support. Not that she cares. She only sees the dollar signs. Talia held out a lipstick toward me. “Chloe, you look like you could use some decent makeup. Here, this shade would suit you.” I rejected it coolly. “No thanks. Keep the gifts—you seem to value them so much.” Erika scowled, “Ungrateful much? Talia was trying to be generous.” “I don’t think you even deserve it. Stick to your drugstore brands.” “What’s wrong with affordable brands?” I shot back. “Just because something’s expensive doesn’t mean it’s better. Plenty of homegrown brands are fantastic quality.” Our family might be wealthy, but we don’t chase designer labels for everything. My favorite tees are made from American-grown cotton, and our silk pajamas come from a top-notch family-owned workshop that crafts exclusively for us. Erika rolled her eyes, dismissing me, “Country bumpkin mentality. No point talking to you.” While they continued with their gift haul, I watched my phone’s recording, knowing that someday, I’d make sure everyone saw Talia’s true colors.

The next day, in our Acting Workshop, the professor handed out scripts for us to perform. I drew the role of the female lead, partnered with the most popular guy in our class, Ryan Hastings. Ryan’s a campus heartthrob and a former boy-band member turned actor, with over ten million Twitter followers. I never expected Talia to react by biting her lip and looking like she was about to cry. Immediately, everyone gathered around, concerned. “Talia, what’s wrong? Are you feeling okay?” “If you’re not up to it, take a break.” Even Ryan and the professor approached her to check on her. Talia looked at me, then carefully unfolded her script. “Oh, it’s nothing. I just… didn’t get the role I wanted. Don’t worry, everyone. I’ll still do my best. I won’t let anyone down.” Wow, a masterclass in manipulation. The Queen of Green Tea herself couldn’t have done it better. Some of my roommates took Talia’s script and walked over to me. “Chloe, why don’t you trade roles with Talia? She’s the campus queen, after all, and has actual acting experience. She’d definitely bring more to the lead role than you.” “Right, Talia’s got the looks for it, too. She’s naturally meant for the lead. Are you sure you could pull it off?” Ever since they thought Talia might be Merritt Media’s “secret princess,” they all started sucking up like crazy. Unmoved, I replied, “Why should I? We all drew randomly. And besides, what makes you think I can’t handle the lead?” Ryan scoffed, “Lack of experience. And last I checked, you don’t share her last name either, right?” With that, he snatched the script from my hand and gently placed it in Talia’s. “Don’t worry,” he said softly to her. “Now we’re partners.” I looked at the professor, hoping she’d set things straight. “Professor, are you really going to let them steal the roles like this?” She sighed impatiently. “A role’s a role. You think you’ll get to pick your parts as a professional actor?” I wasn’t letting this slide. This was clear favoritism. I’d never been treated like this before. “Why don’t you tell her that?” I shot back. “She’s the one asking for a change.” “Teachers are supposed to be fair. If we allow people to swap roles whenever they want, who’ll take on the smaller roles?” “In every production, each part matters. Without supporting roles, the lead wouldn’t shine.” The professor looked irritated. “I say one thing, and you argue ten. You think you should be the teacher? Either take the role or leave.” I smirked. “You’re all letting her switch because she’s ‘Owens,’ right? What if she’s not even Graham Merritt’s daughter?” Talia froze, her face turning pale as she tried to keep her cool. “If she’s not,” she sneered, “then what are you saying? That you are?” “Obviously,” I answered confidently. The room erupted in laughter. “Oh my god, she thinks she’s Graham Merritt’s daughter. Hilarious!” “If she’s a Merritt, then I must be Jeff Bezos’ kid.” Graham Merritt—that’s my dad’s name. Sure, laugh it up while you still can. Soon enough, you won’t be laughing anymore. I don’t just want them to know the truth. I want everyone to know who the real imposter is. A week after school started, my brother Lucas Merritt was set to perform his concert. Ever since he’d won his season’s top spot on The Next Superstar, he’d gone viral nationwide, practically overnight, bringing me millions of sister-in-law “candidates” along the way. From day one, Erika bragged to everyone that she was Lucas’s biggest fan and held a spot on the Lucas Merritt Fan Society’s board. Tickets for his concert went on pre-sale three days ago. As expected, they sold out within seconds.

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After I died, my parents signed the organ donation form, giving my retina to their beloved adopted daughter, Liana Tate. Without me, they were finally a real family. Liana and I fought all our lives, and in the end, I was left with nothing but a broken heart. This time around, I decided to live for myself—and ended up with an unexpectedly happy ending. Content I was reborn, all the way back to the day Liana came into our home. If I’d returned a little earlier, maybe I could have prevented her parents’ tragic deaths, or even convinced my parents not to adopt her. But now, she was here, and no tantrum could change that. Liana was the daughter of my father’s mentor, a renowned artist who doted on her like a treasure. She had a natural gift for painting, but a mysterious eye disease made her vision unpredictable, and she faced the constant risk of blindness. After her parents passed away in an accident, leaving her alone, my parents took one look at her and decided she’d be like their own—even more so than their real daughter. “Marissa, haven’t you always wanted an older sister? From now on, Liana is your big sister! Aren’t you happy?” My mom and dad looked at me with that expectant, loving gaze, hoping I’d accept my new sister wholeheartedly. At seven, I was thrilled. I believed I’d gained a warm, loving family member and couldn’t wait to share my world with her. But Liana wasn’t here to share anything; she was here to take everything. “Marissa, I know you’re very mature,” Dad said, “but Liana isn’t well. Even though you’re younger, we need you to help us look after her. Can you do that?” I didn’t even get a chance to reply before Liana’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I know it’s hard for Marissa to accept me. Who would want to share their family’s love? I… I can just go back to the orphanage.” Sometimes I wondered if she, too, had come back with a second chance at life. How could an eight-year-old be so calculating? I hadn’t even objected, and yet she’d already cast me as the jealous, spoiled sister. Mom gently wiped Liana’s tears. “Oh, Liana, please don’t cry. It’s not good for your eyes.” “And you don’t need to call us ‘Mr. and Mrs. Locke.’ Starting today, we’re Mom and Dad to you.” Liana looked up, her young face streaked with tears and glistening lashes. She looked so innocently astonished, so pitiful, anyone would feel sorry for her. “I… I have a mom and dad now.” And just like that, they cried together, the three of them in a tight embrace. No one remembered to ask how I felt. Liana just had that effect on people.

That night, my parents made me share a room with Liana. I lay quietly in bed, wide awake, my mind racing with plans to become independent as soon as possible so I could leave. From my last life, I knew how it would go. From the moment she entered our family, Liana would make my parents—and even my brother—hers. In the dead of night, Liana crept out of bed, and I feigned sleep, watching her sneak into my parents’ room. “Mom! Dad! It’s so dark… my eyes hurt so much… I’m scared…” Overwhelmed by sympathy, my parents never stopped to wonder how Liana, in this strange house, had managed to find their room in the dark while supposedly suffering from an eye attack. All they did was wrap her in their arms, their eyes brimming with tears as they held her. “Liana, don’t be scared. We’re right here.” She shivered, pressing herself deeper into Mom’s embrace, the picture of a frightened little girl. “Mom… Dad… can I really stay in this family? Earlier, Marissa, she…” Hearing this, a chill settled over me. Moments later, Dad burst into my room, yanked me from bed, and demanded, “What did you say to Liana? How could you be so unkind? Liana’s been through so much already!” “Let’s not be too harsh,” Mom said softly, though she still held Liana tightly, never even glancing my way. In the end, they brought Liana into their room, leaving me alone, standing in the cold, dark hallway. They’d forgotten I was seven too, that I was scared of the dark and the cold, and that I still needed my parents’ love. Over time, I understood the game Liana played. She would pretend to suffer a relapse, stirring up sympathy, and then accuse me of things I hadn’t done. As I grew older, I saw the crisis: ever since she arrived, I’d been cast as the “bad child,” while she took over my place. And so began our rivalry. If Liana got something, I’d make sure to have it too. Liana was skilled at putting on a gentle, sweet front, while I, the real daughter, became the petty, jealous one. In the end, I lost at everything, even my brother Trevor, who’d once doted on me, fell under her spell. In the art world, everyone knew the Lockes had an angelic, talented adopted daughter, Liana Tate—and a bratty, jealous daughter named Marissa Locke. This time around, I’d had enough. I was done fighting Liana; I’d live the life I truly wanted.

The next morning, I walked downstairs to the sounds of laughter. Liana was sitting in my seat, eating with my favorite dishes and silverware. When she saw me, the warmth drained from the room as though I were the intruder. Mom’s face looked awkward. “Marissa, you’re up early today. Liana doesn’t have her own set yet, so we let her use yours. Why don’t you use Trevor’s?” “No, thank you. I don’t take what doesn’t belong to me.” Everyone caught my sarcasm. Dad, still upset with me for “bullying” Liana last night, glowered at me. I glanced at the table. Milk, sandwiches, eggs, and bacon—all of Liana’s favorites. I was lactose-intolerant, and I usually had oatmeal. “Oh, I forgot! Let me make you some soy milk instead,” Mom said quickly, eager to cover up her favoritism. Dad slammed his cup on the table. “Why do we need so many special treatments? She’s already spoiled enough!” If I were the same girl from before, I’d be heartbroken, ready to throw a fit. Now, though, I just felt numb. I sat silently at the edge of the table and caught Liana’s satisfied smirk as she ate. When she glanced up again, her face was all sadness. “Dad, don’t be so harsh on Marissa. She grew up pampered; it’s only natural for her to act spoiled. It shows how much you love her.” And just like that, my parents were moved to tears by her “grace.” How angelic she seemed in contrast to me, the ungrateful daughter. But I didn’t care. In my last life, I’d practically disowned them already. I could’ve pretended to adore Liana, played the obedient little sister. But I wanted her to know: all the love and admiration she fought so hard for meant nothing to me.

By the time the three of them came back from enrolling her in a new school, I’d already moved my things to the guest room. It wasn’t about giving her my space—I just wanted some privacy. Dad patted my head. “Marissa, you’re such a good girl. Just like Daddy’s little angel.” A younger me would have basked in those words, but now I knew what he really meant: if I could sacrifice my happiness for Liana’s sake, only then was I worthy of his love. Liana didn’t hesitate to barge into my room, looking over the art supplies Mom and Dad had once bought just for me. Her face turned pale as she threw herself, sobbing, into Mom’s arms. “I just wish I could paint freely like Marissa.” Mom looked at me apologetically, hesitating before finally speaking. “Marissa, I know this is unfair, but for Liana’s sake, could you put your art supplies away?” This was how it started: my space, my hobbies, even my dreams were slowly pushed aside for Liana’s sake. In my last life, Liana’s failing eyesight meant she couldn’t paint for long. So, I was forced to cut back on my own painting time, even though I was the artist’s daughter. Liana’s work was framed and displayed while mine sat at the bottom of a forgotten art box. When the time for our college art exams came, Liana’s eye issues flared up halfway through her exam. She wasn’t able to finish, so she switched her name onto my piece. When the results came in, I recognized my own work with Liana’s name on it. I begged Mom and Dad to help me. Instead, they held a sobbing Liana and gently told me to be the bigger person. “Marissa, you’ll have another chance next year. Liana’s running out of time—any day now, she could go blind.” It was so easy for them to say, but only I knew how many nights I’d spent practicing, nearly going blind myself from exhaustion. I screamed, “Isn’t it enough that she took you from me? Now she has to take my life too? Give me my spot back, or I’ll leave for good.” Instead of remorse, all I got was a stinging slap. “Without Liana’s eye problems, do you really think you’d have won? You have no talent! Even in art school, you’d be at the bottom of the class.” I clutched my burning cheek, stunned that my own father would say such words to me. In the end, Liana took my spot at the academy, and I became the joke of the art world—a failed artist overshadowed by the girl who could barely see. This time around, I was done. In front of my parents, I threw my art supplies in the trash. Dad’s face darkened, but they knew they were in the wrong, so they left, with Liana right beside them.

When summer break arrived, my brother Trevor came back from studying abroad, mainly to meet the “legendary” new sister, Liana Tate. Just like in my past life, the moment Trevor laid eyes on Liana, he was utterly enchanted. Liana wore a blindfold, stumbling around the living room like she was lost in darkness until she “accidentally” fell right into Trevor’s arms. Blushing, she murmured in that delicate voice of hers, “Since I don’t know when I’ll go blind, I thought I should get used to darkness now. That way, I won’t be a burden to Mom, Dad, or you.” She had such a way with words. In just one sentence, she managed to make me seem unnecessary, even subtly hinting that Trevor and I didn’t get along. Trevor, full of youthful idealism, was so shaken he couldn’t even speak, gazing at her like she was a damsel from some tragic romance movie. He made up his mind right then and there to protect her for life. My parents suggested we all go out to celebrate Trevor’s return. I wanted no part of it; the four of them looked like a perfect, happy family, and there was no place for me, the bratty, unloved youngest daughter. But Liana wouldn’t let it go. She hid in a corner, tearing up like a sad little pearl. “Mom, Dad, why don’t you just go with Trevor and Marissa? You all deserve a family day without me ruining it.” Trevor got flustered and gently wiped her tears. “Why would you say that? We’re a family now.” Liana acted shy, pulling back from his touch and glancing at me with a helpless look, silently accusing me of something. Trevor turned to me with a scowl. “Marissa! Why are you bullying Liana? This isn’t like you; you used to be so sweet!” Who had changed? They were the ones who’d become strangers: Mom, who had always thought of me first; Dad, who’d been strict but fair; even Trevor, my once-protective big brother. I looked him in the eye, laughing coldly. “Why don’t you ask Liana? How did I ‘bully’ her? I gave up my room for her. What else does she need?” My question caught Liana off guard. She avoided my gaze, but this only strengthened Trevor’s resolve to defend her. “It’s that high-and-mighty attitude that hurts her! She just got here, so naturally you should make her feel welcome!” Suddenly, I was the enemy, while Trevor played the knight defending his “princess.” Mom and Dad chimed in, “Marissa, Trevor doesn’t visit often. Don’t upset him. Apologize to him and Liana.” I looked over this family, who seemed determined to put Liana’s feelings above everything else, and said, “Liana can have anything she wants because I don’t care—but I’m not apologizing.” With that, I walked to my room and locked the door, letting Trevor’s frustrated shouts fade into the background. They spent the entire day out without calling to check on me or even bringing me dinner. In my last life, I would’ve been heartbroken, maybe even starved myself to make them feel guilty. Now, I knew it was pointless; it only hurt me. I made myself a big bowl of ramen, spread out the study guides I’d secretly bought, and settled in. Since my rebirth, I’d been focused on improving myself, pushing forward every day. This time around, I planned to create a life for myself. After careful thought, I decided to study medicine.

At seven years old, I still had the mind of my twenty-something self from my past life, and academically, I was miles ahead of Liana. Her “delicate angel” act might work on my saintly parents, but it didn’t fool the teachers. Failing grades were failing grades. When finals came, I scored first in my grade, while Liana barely passed. Every time a teacher called our parents about her poor performance, she’d tear up, blaming her eye condition. Yet she stubbornly refused to transfer to a specialized school. Each exam season, the house was in chaos as she “struggled” to study, while I took it in stride. To spare her feelings, my saintly parents decided they’d both attend Liana’s parent-teacher conference—even though it was on the same day as mine. They had to know that their favoritism was already causing my classmates to bully me, calling me a “loveless nobody.” Any time they wanted to brush aside my needs for Liana’s sake, they used that tired line I’d heard a thousand times: “Liana’s health isn’t good, and she’s had a hard life. Just give her a little grace.” But I didn’t care. Knowledge was my greatest weapon. I used every spare moment to study, and by twelve, I skipped a grade, becoming the youngest high schooler in our city’s history. Suddenly, my name was everywhere. Everyone knew the Locke family had a prodigy daughter. Dad’s phone rang off the hook with calls from well-connected families hoping to arrange friendships or even engagements. But because he wanted to protect Liana’s feelings, he turned down every invitation, never considering how these connections could benefit my future. Of course, how could I possibly compare to his beloved Liana? When the acceptance letter arrived, my principal, Caroline Quincy, and a reporter personally came to deliver it. But my parents were already rushing out the door, taking Liana to the hospital because she’d complained of a “headache.” They didn’t even stop to greet the principal. Even though I’d long since given up hope for my parents’ support, there was a pang of disappointment. Principal Quincy looked at me intently and said, “Our school doesn’t usually allow boarding, but if you want to live on campus, I’ll arrange it.” She patted my head, and I felt a long-forgotten warmth. Tears welled up as I realized how much I missed the care and kindness of someone who truly looked out for me. That single moment brought two of the most important people into my life.

As the school year approached, I couldn’t wait to move out of the chilly, loveless Locke house and into the school dorms. That day, predictably, Mom and Dad had been called away by Liana’s latest “health crisis.” Trevor was home on break but made no move to help me pack. He simply watched me bustle around, and when I was about to leave, he muttered, “Guess things’ll be peaceful around here for once.” I hoisted my last bag into the taxi, not sparing him a glance. Principal Quincy had arranged a lovely room for me—actually a converted faculty apartment, cozy and well-equipped. I spent a full day cleaning and organizing, then headed to the bookstore to stock up on study materials. High school would be intense, and I was determined to excel. When classes started, I wasn’t surprised to find myself ostracized. Rumor had it that Principal Quincy had “made an exception” for me, and whispers quickly followed. “Oh, look, the 12-year-old prodigy is here.” “Think she’ll cry and want her mom at night?” “Maybe we should put her next to the water cooler so she can make her baby formula during breaks.”

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On our wedding night, my husband didn’t touch me. He claimed he was too exhausted and told me to give it some time. But every night, like clockwork, he slips quietly down to the basement. He returns needing a shower, with this strange smell lingering on him. When I asked what he was doing, he said he was working out. Working out in the middle of the night? Finally, one night, I couldn’t hold back and went down to the basement to see for myself. He caught me and, grabbing my nightgown, yelled furiously: “Get upstairs! You are NOT allowed in the basement! Otherwise, we’re getting divorced!” Content I gripped the railing, shaking with anger. My parents spent their life savings on this cottage to be our wedding home. This is my house! So why shouldn’t I be allowed in the basement? And as my husband, why does he have to speak to me so cruelly? Taking a deep breath to control my anger, I asked, “Evan Marshall, is this how you talk to me?” Evan still had a firm hold on my nightgown. “Let’s go upstairs, and I’ll explain in the bedroom.” “Can’t you just tell me here?” I pointed down at the pitch-black basement stairs. “Why can’t I go down? Don’t I have that right?” “I told you—I work out down there, and I’ve got some things that you can’t see yet.” Evan stepped down a few stairs, blocking my way. “Why?” I demanded. “Because it’s not the right time yet,” he replied. “When it’s time, I promise you’ll see.” My stomach churned with frustration. I took another deep breath to control my emotions. “And did you really have to say it in such an ugly way when you caught me?” “I was just worked up, okay? You know me—sharp tongue, soft heart.” I laughed bitterly and turned to go back upstairs. Sharp tongue, soft heart? Right. Fine then. Tomorrow, when he’s at work, I’ll have a look for myself. … Back in bed, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Something suspicious is definitely in that basement, and it’s got to be big. Was Evan hiding some kind of dark secret? I glanced over at him. He wasn’t asleep either, staring at the ceiling like he was lost in some secret worry. In the moonlight, his features looked sharp and handsome, his build even more rugged and alluring. Back when he was chasing me, I’d been flattered and didn’t dare believe it. He was so attractive, while I’m just… ordinary. Why did he like me? He said he liked my gentleness, my calm nature, something unique about me. And I’d believed him. But if that’s true, why hasn’t he wanted me at night? I’m his young bride, after all; we haven’t even finished our honeymoon yet. Is this normal? Unable to resist, I reached out and touched his face gently. “What are you doing?” he hissed, jerking away as if he’d been shocked, glaring at me with disgust. The look was the same one people give to stray dogs or beggars on the street. Anger filled me as I turned away. Why did he pursue me if he had no interest in me? Why stay with me? Suddenly, I turned back and glared at him. “You told me you’re sick, and that’s why we can’t be together for now. I accepted that. But why such a strong reaction when I touch you?” “I’ve told you a hundred times, it’s a psychological issue. I’m seeing a therapist for it. You just need to be patient.” Evan tapped my shoulder lightly with his phone instead of his hand. “Just give it six months, okay? After that, I promise I’ll love you right.” Too “dirty” to touch, but clean enough for marriage? Could I really believe him? For now, I had no choice but to wait. I sighed, frustrated, and turned away. Honestly, I’d given him everything since we started dating. He said he liked watches, so I got him one worth a fortune. He wanted to travel, so I went around the world with him. He wanted to invest, so I loaned him the money. Anything I had, he could ask for, and I’d give it freely. And now, just after our wedding, this is what I get in return. It’s that basement causing all this! I hate that basement. I’ll tear it apart if I have to, just to get to the bottom of it.

Morning came. Like usual, I made breakfast—the kind Evan likes. He ate in silence, keeping his usual indifferent expression. It felt as though I were his maid, not his wife. After breakfast, I drove him to work. We both worked in sales at Eden Fragrances. I parked, watched him disappear inside, and then told a coworker a few things before quickly leaving. Without my car, I caught a taxi straight back home. Once there, I rushed inside, heading straight for the basement. But when I got there, I was stunned. The door had been replaced! I had no idea when he’d done it, but now there was a steel security door with a keypad lock. Without the code, I couldn’t even get close. I took out my phone and snapped a picture of the door, thinking of finding out if these doors had any universal keys. “What do you think you’re doing?” Evan’s voice boomed from the top of the stairs. He’d actually followed me home! In three quick steps, he was at the bottom, his face dark with rage. He slapped me hard across the face. “How many times have I told you?!” “You hit me?” I put my phone away, glaring. He kept shouting, “How many times have I told you?!” I shouted back, “This is my house! Don’t I have the right to go down there? And if you changed the door, shouldn’t you have told me?” “You need to wait until I have time to tell you!” he barked, raising his hand as if to strike again. I leaned back, dodging his hand, and pulled out my phone. “I’m calling the police.” My cheek stung from the slap, my anger burning through me. Barely married and already he was hitting me? Where would this lead? Panic crossed Evan’s face as he grabbed my hand. “Why are you calling the cops?” “This is my house. Why can’t I go down to my own basement? Why did you hit me? Can’t I call the cops?” I stood firm, ready to dial. “Lily, calm down,” he said, his tone softening. “I… I just lost my temper.” “Oh, so that means you can hit your wife?” I pulled my hand free, saying, “Let go! I am calling the police!” Once again, he grabbed my hand. “Lily, it’s really not a big deal. If you feel we can’t get along, then maybe we should get a divorce.” Divorce? I took a step back, silent. Things were bad, but I didn’t think they were that bad. My parents had high hopes for our marriage; they’d want grandkids soon. And if we divorced, this cottage would be split in half, and my parents would lose out. I couldn’t let that happen. “If you want a divorce, then the house stays with me,” Evan said. “Otherwise, we keep things as they are. Now, go back to work.” After a long look, I turned and left. I couldn’t let him take away my parents’ hard-earned money. “Hey! Get back here!” I stopped and turned. “Don’t you think you owe me an apology after everything?” Tears welled up in my eyes, and I slammed my fist onto the railing, feeling the sting as my knuckles split. Blood ran down my hand. After a glare at him, I walked away. … “Lily, what’s wrong? You look awful,” my coworker Megan Blake asked when I got back to the office. “I’m fine,” I replied, sitting down and opening my laptop. I’d bandaged my hand but kept it hidden under the desk so she wouldn’t see. “Hey!” Megan slid into the chair next to me, giving my shoulder a nudge. “Your honeymoon must be wild. You look like you’re about to pass out!” I forced a smile. If only she knew what a mess things were. “Tomorrow’s Saturday,” she reminded me. “Company’s doing that family team-building event, so partners are supposed to come. If you don’t go, they’ll fine you.” I didn’t care about the outing, but I didn’t want the fine. Evan always loved these company outings and had never missed one before. “If Evan goes, then I’ll go,” I said. “I already asked him. He said he’s not going. Without him, you two lose the monthly bonus,” she added. “I’ll go talk to him.” I went over to his department. He was sitting with two male coworkers, laughing and gossiping about something. I overheard them talking about a hit-and-run accident outside Eden’s office a couple of months ago. Some woman had hit three employees and fled, and they still hadn’t found her. I walked up and asked quietly, “You’re not going to the company outing?” “No,” he replied, as cold as ever. “If you don’t go, we’ll be fined.” “Then let them fine us,” he shot back. “I just think we don’t need to—” “Could you stop nagging?” he suddenly shouted, loud enough for the entire office to hear. The room fell into an awkward silence, my face burning. Here he was, my new husband, yelling at me in front of everyone. What was there left to say? I just lowered my head and walked away. Any illusions I’d held about Evan vanished in that moment. “Lily, I’m sorry for pushing you earlier,” Megan said quietly when I got back to my desk, giving my shoulder a supportive squeeze. “It’s fine.” I suddenly remembered something, took out my phone, and sent her a photo. “Megan, you’re my go-to. Can you find out if there’s a universal key for this kind of keypad lock?” Megan checked the picture, nodded thoughtfully. “Sure thing. I know someone who sells these doors. I’ll ask around for you.”

It was evening again, and as I prepared dinner, I checked the home monitoring system on my phone. Still broken, just like that morning. Was Evan messing with it on purpose? I finished cooking and set the table. A few minutes later, Evan came home carrying a cake. He hid it quickly in the storage room, but I caught a glimpse—it was a fancy French mousse cake, artfully made. I froze for a moment. It wasn’t his birthday, and it wasn’t mine either. What was he up to? He didn’t say anything, and I didn’t ask. At dinner, we barely spoke. He ate as though he were a customer at a restaurant, and I was his waitress. Later, as I replaced the bandage on my hand, Evan broke the silence. “So, Lily, have you thought it over?” I looked up. “Thought what over?” “About the divorce. Have you made up your mind?” he asked, his tone casual, as if we were discussing dinner plans. I let out a cold laugh. Was his only goal with this marriage to get the cottage? “What do you want?” I challenged. “Do you actually want a divorce?” He didn’t answer. “If you’re not happy with me, feel free to ask for a divorce,” I said calmly. “I won’t stand in the way of your happiness.” He shot me a hard look and turned away. “Just go to sleep.” I pressed him again, “You told me to give you time. You said once you got better, things would be different. Isn’t that right?” “Can we just drop it?” he snapped, annoyed. “I’m exhausted. Go to sleep!” After changing my bandage, I turned off the light and lay down. There we were, side by side, but worlds apart. Living like this was torturous, but I had no choice but to endure it for now. Eventually, I fell asleep. It might have been instinct or some inner sense, but in the middle of the night, I woke up. Moonlight spilled into the room, faint but enough to see clearly. Evan wasn’t there. He must have gone to the basement to “work out” again. This time, I was determined to see what he was really doing. But as I shifted to get up, my wrist suddenly felt weighed down. I pulled, and a cold shock ran through me. I was handcuffed to the bedpost with a thick silver chain. I tugged hard, but it wouldn’t budge, and the strain made my wrist burn. Furious, I whispered, “This is too much!”

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At nine months pregnant, I suddenly felt my baby stop moving inside me. I rushed to the hospital for an emergency C-section. When I woke up, my mother-in-law Martha happily told me I had given birth to a big, healthy boy. Meanwhile, my recently divorced sister-in-law Lily had delivered a stillborn baby on the same day. After that, Lily became extremely attached to my son. She was so good to him that before I died, I left all my inheritance to them. But they told me that the stillborn baby was actually mine. And the child I had poured my heart and soul into raising for eighteen years was actually Lily’s. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day I first noticed my baby had stopped moving. I quickly adjusted to the fact that I had been reborn. Lying in bed, I placed my hand on my swollen belly, my heart heavy with grief. Hearing Martha push open the bedroom door, I quickly closed my eyes. Suddenly, Lily’s anxious voice rang out. “Mom, my stomach hurts so bad. Do you think I’m going into labor today?” Martha immediately scolded her. “Keep your voice down! Don’t let her hear you.” Lily fell silent, but soon began moaning in pain again. “Mom, it’s starting again. I can’t take it!” “Oh lord, you can’t give birth now! It has to be on the same day as her, remember?” My heart skipped a beat. So they had planned this all along. But what shocked me even more was what I heard next. “Mom, with all those drugs you’ve been giving her, is the baby really dead?” I felt like a knife had been plunged straight into my heart. Gritting my teeth, I listened to Martha’s confident reply: “If it’s not dead, it won’t survive long after birth anyway. That’s what happens when you’re carrying a girl.” No wonder. My baby had always been perfectly healthy. Just last month at my checkup, the doctor said everything looked great. I never imagined it would suddenly stop moving like this. I wanted nothing more than to kill them right then and there. “Ahh, Mom, I can’t take it anymore! The pain is unbearable – I really think I’m going into labor. Please, do something! Make her go to the hospital to give birth today too.” “Alright, I’ll give her the abortion medication now.” I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to tear them apart. Even now, I couldn’t understand why they would do this to me. I had been nothing but kind to Lily. When she got divorced while pregnant, I immediately invited her to live with us, not wanting her to be alone. Every prenatal vitamin and supplement I took, I made sure Lily had too. I even helped prepare her hospital bag and bought a set of baby clothes and diapers for her child. But I never imagined she and Martha had been plotting together all along to kill my baby and have me raise Lily’s child instead. I couldn’t fathom why. My baby was Martha’s own flesh and blood grandchild too. Why would she want to kill it just to have me raise Lily’s baby instead? In my past life, I suddenly developed cancer. Was that related to them as well? After all, Martha had prepared all my food and drinks. The more I thought about it, the more horrified I became. Just then, Martha pushed open the bedroom door, carrying a glass of milk. Her face was beaming like a chrysanthemum. “Chloe dear, wake up and have some milk.” Looking at that wrinkled old face, I wanted nothing more than to slap her hard. But I couldn’t. Not yet. I would make them pay for everything they owed me, slowly and painfully. I carried the milk into the living room. Lily’s face was deathly pale. Good. I hope the pain kills you. “Chloe, hurry and drink it before it gets cold,” Lily urged. I set the milk aside and stood up with a smile. “My stomach feels a bit off. I don’t want milk – I’m craving some steamed buns from that shop down the street.” “Absolutely not!” Martha and Lily cried in unison. Martha reached out to stop me. I shoved her hand away. I wasn’t going to the hospital today no matter what. Let’s see what they could do about it. “Mom!” Lily suddenly let out an agonized scream. Her skirt was soaked through. Her water had broken. Martha’s face turned ghostly white. Just as I was about to gloat, Martha suddenly shoved me hard. My belly slammed into the ground. Blood gushed between my legs. The pain made me black out. When I came to again, it was just like in my past life. Martha’s face was wreathed in smiles as she cradled a tiny infant. “Chloe, look! You’ve given birth to a big, healthy boy.” “He’s so adorable and chubby. You did so well, Chloe,” she cooed, placing the baby in my arms. Lily suddenly rushed over and snatched the baby from Martha. “Mom, let me hold him for a bit.” Her face was deathly pale and she staggered as she clutched the tiny infant tightly to her chest.

Martha quickly smacked Lily on the shoulder. “This is your nephew – Chloe’s baby. She hasn’t even held him yet. What are you thinking? Go lie down!” But Lily refused to let go. She gave me a pitiful look. “Chloe, my baby was stillborn. I’m heartbroken. Please, just let me hold him for a little while?” “Don’t worry about a thing, Chloe. You just rest. I have milk, so I can feed him if he gets hungry.” I stared at her coldly. She was so considerate. In my past life, I had been deeply touched by how thoughtful she was being. I even sent a delivery service to buy her lots of nutritional supplements. And gave her an expensive gold necklace as a thank you gift. Now I realized how blind I had been. The intense maternal love in her eyes as she gazed at the baby was so obvious. How did I not see it before? Even if I had noticed, I would have assumed she was just transferring the love for her lost child onto my baby. Looking back, I was such a fool. Seeing that I didn’t object to Lily holding the baby, Martha quickly chimed in with a smile. “Lily, Chloe has been so good to you. Everything you’ve eaten, worn, and used during your pregnancy was from her. You’d better take good care of your nephew from now on.” Lily nodded vigorously. “Of course, Chloe. Don’t worry about a thing. I’m happy to hold him all day long. Once you’ve recovered, you can go back to work without any worries. I’ll take care of the baby, and Mom will handle the cooking. We’ll be your support system.” Martha eagerly agreed. I dug my nails into my palms, fighting the urge to slap their shameless faces. They really had it all figured out. I wanted nothing more than to demand a paternity test right then and there to expose their lies. But when I saw the look of utter adoration on Lily’s face as she gazed at the baby, I changed my mind. I knew that this traumatic birth had left me completely infertile. In my past life, I was never able to get pregnant again. Since Lily was so willing to give me her biological child, I would raise him as my own right in front of her eyes. I would make her watch as her son became mine, until the pain was unbearable. Soon, my husband Lucas rushed back. He hugged me tightly, his face full of concern and gratitude. “Oh honey, you’ve been through so much.” I clung to him and burst into heart-wrenching sobs. In my past life, Lucas had been in a terrible car accident while rushing between business trips to provide for us. He needed an urgent heart transplant. I had scraped together $500,000 for the surgery with great difficulty, but Martha secretly took the money to buy the baby a grand piano instead. The delay in getting the surgery caused Lucas to die in the hospital. I could never understand how Martha could be so heartless towards her own son. She knew that money was meant to save his life, yet she stole it anyway! In this life, I would not let that tragedy repeat itself. I also needed to uncover whatever sinister plot was behind all this. Lucas cradled the baby, jokingly saying to me: “Honey, did you have an affair or something? This kid doesn’t look anything like me or you.” Martha and Lily’s faces instantly drained of color. I secretly rejoiced. I deliberately laughed and said to Lucas: “You’re right, he doesn’t look like either of us. Should we get a paternity test?” “Absolutely not!” Martha and Lily cried out in unison. Martha slapped Lucas hard on the back. “Lucas, you ungrateful brat! Chloe is such a wonderful daughter-in-law and you dare to doubt her? I ought to smack some sense into you!” Lily also jumped in anxiously. “Big brother, this is definitely your baby. How could you suspect Chloe like this? You’ll break her heart! Apologize to her right now!” Lucas laughed and hugged me. “I’m sorry, honey. I was just joking!” He whispered in my ear: “Wow honey, you’re amazing. You’ve got those two difficult, selfish women totally wrapped around your finger. Look how they’re defending you.” I laughed coldly to myself. A snake will always be a snake, no matter how you treat it. But with Martha and Lily taking care of the baby, I was able to enjoy a peaceful, comfortable postpartum recovery period this time around. Soon, Martha started pressuring me to go back to work. “Chloe, you see how well we’re taking care of the baby. Don’t worry about a thing. There will be so many expenses as he grows up.” Lily was nursing the baby, who had grown plump and adorable. “Chloe, Mom’s right. You should feel totally at ease going back to work. Mom and I can handle everything – the baby, the housework, you name it.” Of course I planned to return to work. But I wasn’t about to let them stay home and care for the baby full-time either.

In my past life, I had foolishly believed their words and threw myself into work. We sent the baby to an expensive private preschool, then private elementary, middle and high schools. Lucas and I were constantly traveling for business, barely able to spend any time with our son. Meanwhile, Martha and Lily were at home with him every day. The boy grew much closer to them than to us. In my past life, as I lay dying of cancer, I desperately wanted to see my son one last time. But Martha and Lily kept making excuses, saying they didn’t want to disrupt his studies. After I died, my soul lingered briefly. I saw Lily showing our son a paternity test, telling him she was his real mother. Mother and son embraced, sobbing. “I knew that woman wasn’t my mom. She never loved me. So you’re my real mother, Aunt Lily.” Martha, Lily and my son went on to live comfortably in the home Lucas and I had bought, using the inheritance we left behind. This time around, I would never let things unfold as they wished. With that in mind, I smiled and agreed. “Of course, Mom and Lily. I’ll work as hard as I can.” As soon as I left the apartment complex, I went straight to find Lucas. I showed him a video I had secretly recorded on my phone. In the video, Lily was cradling the baby, her expression tender. “Baby, I’m your real mommy, okay? You have to remember that.” “That woman isn’t your mother. You can’t drink her milk.” “Mommy doesn’t have money to raise you right now, so we have to rely on that woman. But you can’t get too close to her, understand?” Ever since I was reborn, I had installed hidden cameras in the guest room. I needed to protect myself from them. If they were capable of poisoning me during pregnancy, who knows what other evil they might do. I was just waiting for the day they would make their move. But Lucas’s face showed only sympathy for Lily. “Oh honey, my poor sister. She lost her own baby, so she must be projecting those feelings onto our son.” I knew Lucas was a kind person who had been manipulated by Martha his whole life to always take care of Lily. He would never imagine Martha and Lily could actually harm us. “Honey, I know Lily is in a sad situation. But our baby doesn’t understand any of this. If Lily keeps telling him these things, and we’re always busy working, don’t you think he might start to believe Lily is his real mother? He could end up having no bond with me at all.” Lucas thought for a moment, then nodded in agreement. “You’re right. I’ll call Lily and tell her to stop saying those things.” I quickly grabbed his phone away. “No, confronting her directly will only hurt her more.” “Then what should we do?” “Why don’t we send Mom and Lily on a nice vacation for a while? When Lily gets back, we can help her find a job. That way she can focus on other things.” “Plus, we shouldn’t treat her like some kind of live-in nanny for our child. That would be taking advantage of her.” Lucas looked uncertain. “But who will take care of the baby?” I already had a plan ready. “Honey, my friend runs a professional daycare center. I’ve checked it out – the staff are all highly trained experts. It’s really great.” Lucas finally agreed and called Lily. But when he hung up, he had a troubled expression. “Honey, Lily says they’re happy to go on a trip, but they insist on taking the baby with them.” “What if we let them take him, and give them a bit more time? We can figure something else out later, okay?” Absolutely not okay. I pinched my thigh hard and burst into loud sobs. “But honey, I can’t bear to be away from our baby either! I’m his mother!” Seeing my tears, Lucas finally took my side. “Don’t cry, honey. I won’t let them take our son away.” Soon, Lucas’s phone rang. I heard Martha’s panicked voice come through: “Lucas, come quick! When you refused to let Lily take the baby, she got so upset she slit her wrists! You have to come to the hospital right away!” We rushed to the hospital. Martha immediately slapped Lucas hard across the face. 4

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On the day we gave birth, my best friend came to my bedside right after her C-section and swapped away my son. Twenty years later, my best friend’s spoiled son caused big trouble. In front of everyone, she pointed at my academically excellent daughter and proudly said: “Actually, this is my biological child!” I smiled: “They say nephews resemble their uncles. If your son shaved his head, he’d look exactly like your brother!” “This is indeed your biological son…” I saw a woman in a hospital gown at the door of the ward, hunched over and carrying a thick bundle. I quickly closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. She came in, as expected. Even while enduring the pain of a C-section, she still came to swap my child for a million dollars. After she left, I looked at my fair and chubby daughter lying beside me, my face full of love. Stroking my daughter’s face, I whispered, “That skinny, premature son – whoever wants him can have him.” Two hours later, my husband and in-laws arrived. My room was quiet, with only me, my husband, and the nurse. Olivia’s room was bustling with activity, surrounded by my in-laws, sister-in-law, and a group of relatives. My husband looked a bit embarrassed and comforted me, “It’s okay, Rachel. Our little princess has us, and that’s enough.” I patted his hand, “I just had surgery and I’m feeling weak. Since Olivia has the energy, let her entertain the guests.” She not only swapped babies but also greeted guests. That night, she suffered a severe hemorrhage and was rushed back to the operating room. After being discharged, we both moved into the family mansion to prepare for the babies’ one-month celebration. My in-laws gave Olivia the largest room with the best lighting. She insisted on giving it to me: “Chloe has more severe jaundice, so you should take this room, Rachel.” Looking at the skinny, yellow boy in her arms, and my daughter in mine, who only had a bit of yellow on her hands, I reluctantly accepted. “Thank you, Olivia. You’re such a good friend, forever.”

A year ago, shortly after I married into the wealthy family, my best friend Olivia would cry in front of me every day. She said I had forgotten our promise to “never forget each other if we became rich.” Looking at her strange heavy makeup and the exaggerated expressions on her face, I remembered how five or six years ago, after she hooked up with a rich guy, she cut off contact with all our old classmates. I could only laugh it off and repeatedly deny her accusations. Unexpectedly, half a month later, I saw her getting together with my gambling-addicted brother-in-law. My in-laws didn’t approve, but she got pregnant first and forced a marriage. Her baby was only a month behind mine. Seeing both daughters-in-law pregnant, my in-laws were overjoyed. They declared that whoever gave birth to a son would be rewarded with a million dollars. I didn’t care much, as I hadn’t married my husband for his family’s wealth. Besides, whether it was a son or daughter, both were blessings, and I would love either. Olivia didn’t see it that way. She went everywhere to get her fortune told. She consulted several masters, and they all said she was carrying a girl. She even spent a lot of money trying to change her luck, but to no avail. After all this trouble, she ended up in the hospital for a month to protect the pregnancy. When I was close to my due date, she kept staring at my belly. A mother’s instincts are unusually sharp, so I became wary. Sure enough, on the day my water broke, she arrived at the hospital right after me. She insisted that the doctors perform a C-section on her, saying she had consulted fortune tellers and today was an auspicious day. After my daughter was born, while everyone was distracted, I switched her son with mine in advance. So, the baby Olivia took away was actually her own son.

On the day of the babies’ one-month celebration, the entire mansion was decorated festively, with countless luxury cars gathering and guests filling the halls. The “crown prince” in Olivia’s arms wore a bright yellow outfit, making his little face look even darker. My daughter wore only a pink dress, prioritizing comfort. My in-laws displayed a million dollars in cash on a long table. Olivia’s family members guarded the table, afraid someone might steal a stack. I rolled my eyes. How petty, I thought. Everyone here today is from wealthy families; who would care about your small change? When my mother-in-law put a palm-sized solid gold longevity lock around Olivia’s son’s neck, she immediately took it off and insisted on putting it on my daughter. “Boys are tough; this longevity lock is better for Chloe to wear.” She then took the hollow longevity lock from my daughter’s neck. Everyone praised her for being virtuous, and I chimed in: “You’re so good to Chloe, sister-in-law. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was your own daughter.” She froze for a moment, then looked at my daughter in my arms with a loving expression. “Of course, of course. We’ve always been best friends, and now we’re sisters-in-law. I just adore Chloe.” I blocked her hand as she tried to reach for my daughter. “Sister-in-law, your son is crying. You’d better go check on him.”

When the children were two years old, they were playing together in the courtyard. Hearing a commotion, Olivia and I came downstairs one after another. Seeing several long, bloody scratches on my daughter’s face, I held her without a word, my face ashen. Olivia went berserk first, slapping her son’s face hard several times in succession. The child’s face immediately swelled up, and he cried breathlessly. After being hit, he still reached out to Olivia, “Mommy, hug.” Olivia kicked him away, “You worthless thing, how dare you bully Chloe? I’ll chop off your hands.” Hearing this, my daughter started crying in fear. Olivia glanced at her and became even angrier. She pressed her son’s head into the swimming pool. “You little bastard, you deserve a beating. Who do you think you are? If your sister’s face scars, I’ll kill you.” She only let go when the child’s little hands stopped struggling. Seeing the child about to sink to the bottom of the pool, I quickly pulled him out. After being rescued, the child kept coughing and spitting water. Olivia held my daughter, comforting her softly. I snorted coldly. A two-year-old child makes a mistake, and she wants to take his life? She thinks this is my son, so she treats him this way. If my daughter were in her hands, she might be even worse off. “Sister-in-law, no matter how wrong Ryan did, he’s still your own son. You almost killed him.” She didn’t even look up: “If he dies, it’s his bad luck. We can always have another one.”

Those words weren’t wrong. She got pregnant again, and this time it was confirmed to be a boy. My in-laws were so happy they couldn’t close their mouths, saying she should go ahead and give birth, and they would give her a million dollars for every boy, no less. Many children bring much happiness, they said. Even ten would be fine. It was because of this that she treated Ryan worse and worse. After all, that million dollars had already been spent. Her brother’s gambling debts, which were paid off with the million dollars at the time, had accumulated again over these two years. Her mother repeatedly came to ask for money, telling her that her own brother was even dearer than her son. From the time she wanted to hook up with a rich guy to buy her brother a phone and computer, I had warned her. Being an overbearing sister wasn’t a good idea; in the end, she would lose everything. She thought I was trying to drive a wedge between her and her brother and cut off contact with me. Now, she came crying to me about how her family was sucking her dry to support her brother. I advised her, “That’s your own brother. If you don’t take care of him, who will? I’ve heard that debt collectors have many tactics these days. If they come to your in-laws, they’ll definitely be unhappy.” Olivia only got a few tens of thousands in living expenses each month, which couldn’t keep up with her brother’s spending. She could only set her sights on having children.

When my daughter was eight years old and just started elementary school, she suddenly went to the hospital. The doctor said it was an allergy, and the symptoms were severe. Olivia arrived at the hospital before me. When I got there, she was arguing with the doctor: “She’s allergic to mangoes, how can it be this severe! You incompetent doctors, give me the most expensive medicine!” “If she gets any worse, I’ll shut down your entire hospital!” A nurse was quietly trying to comfort her, “Ma’am, please don’t worry. We’ve already treated her, and she’ll be fine in a while.” She shouted, “Easy for you to say when you’re not affected! How would you feel if it was your daughter lying there?” The doctors and nurses fell silent, not wanting to argue with her. I ran over, caught my breath, and patted the nurse’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, I’m the child’s mother. Thank you all, please go ahead with your work.” The doctor who had been scolded looked bewildered, “Then who is this?” I forced a smile, “This is the child’s aunt.” The doctors and nurses all looked over. As they left, they gave Olivia a look as if she were crazy. Before leaving, the doctor said, “Ma’am, our hospital’s psychiatric department is quite good. If you often feel overly anxious and stressed, you might want to go check it out.”

After Chloe was discharged, she rested at home for a few days without going to school. During these days, Olivia nearly turned the school upside down. First the principal, then the teachers, were all reported to higher authorities. She accused them of allowing students to poison others at school. She even bought off some tabloid reporters to interview at the school. Banners were hung all over the school. “Unscrupulous school endangers my daughter’s life.” “Corrupt principal allows poisoning and protects the perpetrator.” “Immoral teachers abuse students.” To substantiate the teachers’ crimes, she even beat Ryan, who was in the same class as Chloe, until his face was black and blue. She made Ryan tell the reporters’ cameras that it was the teacher who beat him. The incident involved school food safety and caused a huge stir. Ryan’s body was covered in new bruises mixed with old ones. Every day, Olivia dragged him out to kneel at the school gate, and he looked very weak. Onlookers began to speak up, “The child looks like this, why not take him to the hospital?” “These injuries are clearly new. Could the teacher still go to their home to continue beating?” “What a mess in your circle. Rich people don’t go to the police when something happens, just put on heavy makeup and sit in luxury cars blocking the school gate every day.” More and more onlookers were saying Olivia was putting on an act. It wasn’t until I brought Chloe to the school gate that this farce was stopped. I also called reporters and clearly explained the whole story. The child was allergic to mangoes, and her classmate didn’t know and shared some mango candy with her. It was our fault as parents for not doing enough. I hope everyone will stop discussing this matter. As for my sister-in-law’s disturbance to the school, I sincerely apologize. And the lawsuit against that classmate and their parents, we will withdraw it immediately. I hope everyone will let the children study in peace.

My in-laws care most about their reputation. After my husband told them about this incident, They were unforgiving towards Olivia, who had given birth to four grandsons. At a family gathering, they made her kneel down in front of everyone and reflect on her behavior. Olivia lost a lot of face, and my husband was very worried. “Will Olivia take it out on Chloe? After all, she did all this for our daughter.” I assured him, “She won’t. Olivia loves Chloe so much, how could she blame her?” She couldn’t wait to dote on Chloe; if she were to take out her anger on anyone, it would only be on her own son. That night, we heard ghostly wails and screams of a child being disciplined. Ryan cried the loudest, “Mom, I’m your son. Why do you always hit me because of my sister? I feel pain too.” “Shut up, or I’ll sew your mouth shut! How dare you mention Chloe’s name!” In the end, it was my in-laws who couldn’t bear it anymore and took Ryan away. They also stopped Olivia’s credit cards and forbade my brother-in-law from giving her money. Olivia indeed went through a year or two of poverty. She held onto her resentment, pestering my brother-in-law every day. Until she gave birth to her fifth son, she was overjoyed, thinking she would get another million dollars. My in-laws only tossed her twenty thousand dollars. “Having a child, twenty thousand is more than enough. From now on, you’ll have to pay for your own baby formula.”

With less money, she could only rely on quantity. In the following years, Olivia gave birth to three more children in succession. The damage from giving birth to so many children, plus managing eight children over these years, Left her face full of wrinkles, looking nearly ten years older than me. The little money she got was all given to her family. My brother-in-law kept a twenty-something-year-old mistress outside and rarely came home. Even if she wanted to have more children, she couldn’t find anyone. Everyone thought she would be discouraged, sighing like a bitter woman. But she remained energetic every day, even though her sons were all spoiled rotten. Uneducated and incompetent, they relied on the living expenses given by their grandparents, either staying at home playing video games or going out causing trouble every day. Some even dropped out of school, and Olivia indulged them. People were puzzled, but only I understood clearly in my heart. Now that Chloe is twenty years old, she’s already pursuing a master’s degree at a top university. Whether the family inheritance goes to the grandsons or the outstanding granddaughter, She would be the winner either way.

During the New Year’s Eve family gathering, Ryan fled home in a panic. He had taken a drunk girl to a hotel after drinking at a bar. Now she had reported it to the police, and he quickly ran back home. Kneeling in front of his grandfather, he begged him to save his eldest grandson. “Grandpa, please save your eldest grandson. When I helped that girl out of the bar, she clearly didn’t resist.” “Grandpa, don’t you have friends at the police station? This girl is falsely accusing me, you should have her arrested.” Seeing his grandfather’s face turning purple with anger, his father smashed the wine glass in his hand onto Ryan’s head. Blood flowed down his forehead, and Ryan crawled towards his mother, dragging his 300-pound body. “Mom, save me. I’m your own son.” His brothers standing nearby all folded their arms, watching with detached interest. It seemed as if the one kneeling on the ground begging for help wasn’t their brother, but an enemy. Olivia crouched down to wipe the blood from his face, “Ryan, you’ve caused such big trouble, even I can’t help you.” Grandfather exploded in anger, “Enough! Olivia, look at the good son you’ve raised. You take him to turn himself in right now. We didn’t see him today!” “And you, we can’t afford a daughter-in-law like you in our family. When you come back, divorce Tyler and leave with nothing!” Olivia panicked instantly. She grabbed Chloe, who was sitting next to her grandparents, and before anyone could react, she blurted out: “Dad, it’s not me who should leave. Ryan is Tyler and Rachel’s son, and Chloe is my real daughter!”

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Late at night, a note suddenly appeared at the door of Jefferson Hall. “Don’t make a sound. Your roommates are all pretending to be asleep!” Shortly after, I heard my roommate from the top bunk speak. “Ethan, you can’t sleep either?” My heart leapt into my throat. Wasn’t he supposed to be out all night? Content 0 “Ethan, why aren’t you answering me?” The bed frame above me creaked loudly. The note was clenched tightly in my hand. Instinct told me not to respond. I exaggerated my breathing, trying to mimic the rhythm of someone fast asleep. The creaking suddenly stopped. To be safe, I waited what felt like over ten minutes before curling under my blanket to check my phone. The screen’s brightness was dimmed to the lowest setting. No new notifications. Why was Connor, my roommate from the top bunk, suddenly back? Did I misremember? I opened the Dorm WhatsApp Chat. “Hanging out at Cyber Haven tonight. Won’t be back. Cover for me during the RA inspection.” I didn’t misremember. Then who was just on the top bunk? Suddenly, a new message popped up. “Haha, knew you weren’t asleep.” It was from Miles, another one of my roommates. So was it Miles who climbed onto the top bunk? My back broke out in a cold sweat as I recalled the words on the note. Then, I felt a chilling breeze across the top of my exposed head. Someone was breathing on me! In an instant, my entire body froze. The note in my hand trembled, my feet felt as cold as steel, and my heartbeat pounded so violently it felt like it might burst from my chest. I could vividly imagine someone gripping the bed’s frame above me, leaning their face close to mine, staring at me with unblinking eyes. I struggled to control my breathing. This night was too surreal. Gripping my phone tightly, I tried to keep my trembling under control. The phone suddenly vibrated. Who the hell was calling at a time like this? Now wasn’t the time for a call. Without looking at the number, I immediately declined it. The creaking from the top bunk returned. Then, silence. Whoever it was had laid back down. For now, it seemed I was safe. There was no way I could sleep. I reopened my phone. The call had been from an unknown number. My name is Ethan Gray. Most people just call me Ethan. My top bunk roommate was always Connor Pierce. Connor was a classic gamer. He rarely talked to us, preferring to immerse himself in online games. Since power at the dorm cut out at night, he often spent the night gaming at Cyber Haven. Miles, on the other hand, was the polar opposite—outgoing, playful, always joking around. I strained to listen. The room was quiet except for the even rhythm of someone’s breathing. Everyone seemed asleep. But who left the note? And what was Miles trying to do? Lost in thought, unease eventually gave way to sleep. 0

“Holy crap!” Derek’s voice startled me awake. “Miles… he’s… dead!” I shot up in bed. A large pool of blood spread across the floor. Blood dripped thickly from the rusty rod of the bedframe. The sight was horrifying. What the hell happened? Miles was fine last night! Derek stood frozen, his face pale as a sheet, his mouth trembling but unable to form words. He was completely paralyzed with fear. I scrambled out of bed and grabbed my phone to call the police. Summoning my courage, I glanced at Miles’s body on the bed. His position was contorted unnaturally. His head and neck were stretched awkwardly over the edge of the bed. His right hand clutched his throat, poking through the gap in the bedframe’s railing. The quilt was tightly wrapped around his right leg. It was clear he’d died in agony. The thick metallic stench of blood filled the air, nearly overwhelming me. Derek and I couldn’t hold back the nausea. We bolted from the room, barely making it to the hallway. My head spun, my ears rang. From last night to now, everything had spiraled into a nightmare. What the hell was going on? 0

The police arrived at the scene. Shortly after, Connor returned from outside. A death in the dorm drew school officials and a crowd of curious onlookers. The area was cordoned off with police tape. “Preliminary assessment suggests this was likely a homicide.” Miles’s death was beyond strange. I waited on the sidelines, feeling as though my head had been filled with lead. All I could think about was that massive pool of blood. The remaining three of us—Derek, Connor, and me—were taken to Hudson County Precinct for questioning. “Last night, it was just me, Derek, and Miles in the dorm. Connor went to Cyber Haven and should have been out all night.” “I woke up and found Miles dead. Yes, Derek woke up first and started screaming, which woke me up.” I recounted the strange events of the previous night and mentioned the note I had found, intending to hand it over to the police. “It’s gone!” I must have lost it in the chaos. The officer taking my statement stared at me intently, his gaze unnerving. Goosebumps prickled across my skin. “You can leave for now,” he finally said. The thought of the note and Miles’s behavior left my legs weak as I walked out. I couldn’t bring myself to return to Jefferson Hall alone, so I sat in the precinct’s lobby, waiting for Derek and Connor. Miles’s body had been sent for an autopsy, but the results weren’t in yet. As of now, the only suspects were Derek and me. And, of course, Connor. But last night, the dorm door had been locked. Even if Connor had a key, it would have been impossible for him to enter without making a sound. I’m a light sleeper, and my bed is right next to the door—I’d have noticed it opening. That left Derek as the most likely suspect. Before long, Derek came out of the interrogation room. “I think Connor killed Miles,” he said suddenly, staring at me. “They were gaming together yesterday afternoon, and they got into a huge fight. Connor’s face turned bright red—I’ve never seen him that angry before.” “But Connor was out all night at Cyber Haven,” I countered. “How could he have come back, killed Miles, and left without waking us up?” “Who knows… Maybe it’s possible,” Derek muttered. After some time, the police brought Connor out. “We reviewed the surveillance footage. He wasn’t at Cyber Haven last night, nor does he have any other alibi.” It really was Connor! He killed Miles! Connor remained silent, offering no explanation. Unfortunately, the dorm building is old, and with the school constructing new ones, there aren’t any security cameras inside. Until the autopsy results come in, Connor would remain under police supervision. Still, something about it didn’t sit right with me. How could he have silently unlocked the door and killed Miles without waking anyone? If it really was him, then the note must have been his, slipped under the door to confuse us. But that would mean the note’s claim—that everyone in the dorm was pretending to sleep—was false. Maybe I was so shaken last night that I slept more deeply than I thought. That explanation seemed to make everything fit. But then… Why did Miles behave so strangely last night? Am I overthinking things? 0

After Miles’s death, the school promised to reassign dorms for the three of us. But for tonight, Derek and I still had to stay in Jefferson Hall. The room had been thoroughly cleaned and disinfected after the police finished their investigation. Still, every time I closed my eyes, Miles’s horrific death flashed before me. The dorm felt oppressively quiet. We were on a high floor, and the winter wind outside sounded eerily like someone crying. It was impossible to sleep. I scrolled through my phone to distract myself. Besides a class announcement in the Class WhatsApp Group Chat, the only other message was the one Miles had sent me last night: “Haha, knew you weren’t asleep.” What did Miles mean by that? Was he joking with me? Or… was that message not sent by him? And the person who blew on me last night—was it Connor? A chill ran down my spine as a terrifying thought crossed my mind. Was Connor testing me last night? If I had made a sound, would there have been more than one death? Just then, I heard a faint rustling sound near the door. Taking a deep breath, I peeked over the edge of my bed. There it was again—a note on the floor. “Don’t make a sound. Your roommate is pretending to be asleep!” It wasn’t the same note as last night, but the words were identical. My back broke out in goosebumps. Clutching the note and my phone, I turned on my side and curled up under the blanket. Connor was under police watch. So… The killer must be someone else. My thoughts turned to Derek. Tonight, it was just the two of us in the dorm. My heart pounded in my chest. Through the gap between the blanket and the bed, I glanced at Derek’s bunk. It looked like he was in bed, but it was too dark to tell for sure. Could the person who killed Miles be someone outside our dorm? I stayed frozen in my position, not daring to move. If there was even the slightest noise, I was ready to send an emergency text. Minutes passed. Nothing happened. I exhaled a shallow breath. My body was stiff from fear. There was no way I’d sleep tonight. I stayed like that, tense and alert, until dawn. After a distracted morning of classes, I brought the new note to the precinct. I didn’t tell Derek. I couldn’t fully trust him either. Until the killer was caught, I wasn’t safe. What if they were some kind of lunatic? “In the autopsy, we found only one fatal wound—a cut on the victim’s wrist,” the officer explained calmly. “We also found a blade inside his clothing, likely the tool used to make the cut.” “Additionally, Miles’s social media history shows recent posts with concerning, negative language.” “Based on the evidence, we’ve concluded that Miles committed suicide by cutting his wrist.” Suicide? How could that be? What about the notes? The officer didn’t have an immediate answer but said they’d continue investigating. For now, Connor was cleared of suspicion. Leaving the precinct, I felt numb. The past two days had been too much to process. Miles had committed suicide. He was always the one filling the dorm with laughter. He was so outgoing, with so many friends who adored him. How could this happen? I blamed myself for being so blind to his struggles. Maybe it really was him who sent that message. Was he asking for help? He must have been asking for help! If I’d responded, if I’d comforted him, would things have turned out differently? The thought made me want to cry. I hated myself for being so cowardly. Why hadn’t I just gotten up to check on him? But then again… If the note was just a prank, Then whoever left it was the one who distracted me, stopping me from helping Miles in time. 0

“Ethan… Are you unable to walk?” Suddenly, I heard the exact same voice from the night Miles died, coming from behind me. The next thing I knew, I woke up in a hospital bed. I couldn’t feel any pain—there didn’t seem to be any injuries—but my head was spinning. “Ethan, how are you feeling? Do you feel better?” Connor and Derek were sitting at the bedside. My left hand was hooked up to an IV drip, and I weakly nodded in response. “You collapsed right in front of me. Scared the hell out of me.” So, Connor must’ve brought me to Willowbrook Medical Center. I vaguely remembered hearing someone call my name before everything went black. I couldn’t recall anything after that. The stress from the past few days, coupled with a lack of rest, had clearly taken a toll on my body. “Good thing I ran into you as soon as I was released from the precinct,” Connor added. So, that voice I’d heard earlier—it was his. I must have misheard it as my consciousness started fading. For a moment, I thought it was someone—or something—else. Just then, my phone rang. “We need you to return to Hudson County Precinct for another statement,” said the officer on the line. Connor and Derek received the same call shortly after. “Where were you that night?” I asked Connor, unable to hide my curiosity. “I didn’t go to Cyber Haven,” he said, narrowing his eyes slightly, a cryptic smile playing on his lips. “But where I was… That’s not something I can tell the cops.” The room fell silent. Only the sound of the IV drip filled the air. “Ethan, did you hear someone call your name that night?” Derek suddenly broke his silence. So… he wasn’t asleep that night?

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