Category: English

In my third paralysed year, my husband’s female partner gave me a pair of high heels. They were a beautiful pair of high heels. I looked at my skinny legs and angrily threw the shoes at her. My husband got angry. “You think Rose was taunting you by giving you the shoes?” “She doesn’t see you as disabled at all! It’s respect!” ChapterI sat in my wheelchair and opened the door. The crowd in the living room fell silent. My husband Joel and his gymnastics team members held their glasses and turned their heads to look at me in unison. Joel was shocked, “How did you… come out?” I was disappointed. I helped make this celebration happen. The gymnastics team won an international award, and I was the key designer of the program. No one cared if I was there. The atmosphere was awkward. My husband’s partner, Rosalie Hans, smiled at me condescendingly. “Jeanne, we won’t disturb you.” “This is a gift from the gymnastics team.” She held a gift box in front of me. The high heels in the box were covered with diamonds and shone in the light. “We chose this together. Do you like it?” My heart suddenly ached. I held down my unconscious legs, and the bones under my palms reminded me that these legs had long lost the ability to stand. They knew my legs were ruined and I couldn’t stand, and they still chose such a gift. But before I could open my mouth, Joel said, “Why don’t you thank Rose? ” I took a deep breath, looked up and asked him, “You know this gift, right? You gave high heels to a paralysed person! How dare you!” “Your feet aren’t broken, can’t you wear these? We don’t treat you like a disabled person. It’s called respect.” “You know what’s in your heart!” I yelled. He got impatient and said, “Don’t blame Rose.” “She asked about your hobbies and found out you have lots of high heels. That’s why she chose this gift.” He got it wrong. Before I was paralysed, I liked buying shoes. But since I’ve been paralysed, I can only throw all my high heels into the cupboard. My heart is sore. Chapter

When I was paralysed, he hugged me and said, “I love you no matter what.” When I was scared, he said, “I’ll be your legs from now on.” He bathed and massaged me every day and sent me for acupuncture and massage. This went on for three years. One day, he said the name Rosalie Hans. We had less and less to talk about, and he came back later and later every day. He became detached and cold. He even forgot the day of my treatment. We had a qurrel one day. Rosalie came to calm us down. “Alright, Joel, I’m scared when you’re like this.” She stroked Joel’s chest, then squatted in front of my wheelchair. “Jeanne, don’t think about sad things. Let me help you try on your shoes.” She grabbed my legs without waiting for my consent. Then she lifted the hem of the dress. A withered, bony leg appeared. Joel had not accompanied me for rehab for more than two years because recovery was hopeless. He closed his eyes when he saw my legs. Joel turned away, disgusted. “You can see pressure sores all over your legs. Hurry up and put down your clothes.” “Shame on you!” She laughed, seeing me staring at her. “Don’t talk about Jeanne like that. She was a very good dancer.” With envy in her mouth, she forcefully twisted my leg outward at a strange angle. “Try on the shoes. Joel and I chose them together.” The high heel sits empty on my foot, mocking my ungainly leg bones. The taunts came and went. I clenched my fists and bit my lip. I snatched the high heels and slammed them into her face. “Get out!” “Don’t touch me!” She let out a scream and turned to rush into Joel’s arms, crying with tears streaming down her face. Joel grabbed her and kicked my wheelchair. I was pushed back towards the table with drinks. The glass broke on my head. I also fell out of the wheelchair. I reflexively reached out to Joel, hoping he could give me a hand. But he looked disgusted. “Rose gave you a shoe fitting, don’t be ungrateful!” I was angry and wanted to hit something. “Joel, you guys are too much! Bullying me for being disabled?” “You’re unbelievable. Who bullied you? Our gift is respect!” “You’re wicked.” I was shocked and speechless. That’s what he thought of me. He wouldn’t let me go to the banquet today. To stop me going to the living room. Joel even changed my cold medicine to sleeping pills. He thought I didn’t know. But for three years, over a thousand sleepless nights, I relied on this tiny pill to fall asleep. After taking too much medicine, one develops patience. I can’t sleep deeply with just one pill now. My eyes grew moist. When we first fell in love, he was able to wait for hours outside the theatre to introduce me to his best friend. I knew that hearts change, but it still hurt when it came to this day. Chapter

Three years ago, we saw a mudslide on the road. A boulder hit Joel in the back, and blood spilled out. I was only a little hurt sitting in the back. I cried and asked the system again. “Can he stand up now?” “No, his nerves are damaged.” What can we do? He’s young and his gymnastics career has just started. How can he die in this accident? I can’t bear the thought of him suffering. I asked the system, “Can I still use the points earned from previous?” “What do you want?” “I want to trade my legs to him.” “Host, are you crazy? If you give it to him, you’ll never dance again.” I nodded. “I’d rather suffer than see him suffer.” I’d rather see him healthy and happy. I cleared all my points and had the system switch my leg to him. From then on, I was paralysed in bed. Joel was lucky to be alive after being pressed under a boulder. He didn’t know I was the price he paid for everything. I was paralysed for a month. I was in pain and confused. I had no sleep and lost hair. Joel took a month off to take care of me. He supported me through my darkest time and our bond grew stronger. I got used to living in a wheelchair. Joel’s gymnastics career improved and we moved from a small house to a big villa. I taught myself program design in a wheelchair. I couldn’t dance, but I could design dance moves on the computer. Second year paralysed. I designed unique moves for their team. They did really well at the National Gymnastics Competition and are going to represent the USA at the World Championships next month. I called the system “The legs we switched back then, can we change them back?” “Yes, but there aren’t enough points left.” “How do I get the points?” “You’ll get points when you complete a random mission.” Chapter

I went to the stage at Pleasant Plaza in my wheelchair. There”s an open-air interview today. The couple are Joel and Rose, the golden pair of gymnasts. The host said the woman should touch Joel’s chest for the fans. Rose covered her face and then extended her hand. Joel looked at her with love, not backing away. He said he and Rose were only sponsoring the gymnastics team and nothing more. I kept seeing Rose’s name. “Rose did another difficult manoeuvre today!” “Rose and I work well together!” “Rose …” Some fans noticed me. “This is Joel’s wife?” “He’s got a wife.” “She’s pathetic. I heard she used to be a dancer.” “She’s still a cripple, she’s not good enough for him.” I ignored the comments. The director called the camera crew off and told the two men to continue filming after they’d solved their problems. Joel ran up, angry, and asked, “Why are you here?” I tilted my head and said, “I came to watch your interview.” “Go home! ” Joel’s disciple, Adam said loudly, “Hey, what are you doing here?” Rose came over and apologised, “Sorry, Jeanne. I was shooting and didn’t think. ” The crowd was unhappy that I didn”t accept her apology. “What’s with her face? Rose apologised and she still looks angry.” Some fans started a live broadcast, making things worse. Adam stared at me and laughed. “Why does it smell like urine? Is someone incontinent again?” “It really smells.” “It”s disgusting.” I laughed. Joel looked at me with contempt. “Joel, they’re insulting your wife.” He frowned, “Wife? We’re divorced.” He didn’t look at me. I sneered, “When did we get divorced?” There was more commotion. “You’re divorced and you’re still here, aren’t you?” “Get lost!” The crowd pushed me and I lost my balance. I fell forward and someone stepped on my leg. I thought I heard bones clicking and breaking. Adam scolded me, “You should have gone home.” Joel didn’t stop. He sneered, “I know what you want to see.” He gave Rose’s hand to me. I realised they were wearing the same couple watch. What’s not to understand? We had a watch like this. We were just starting out in our careers. We earned less and spent more. We saved money to get married. In summer, we went to the mall, sat in the air conditioning, ate ice cream. We shared it. He got a part-time job and bought two watches. This watch has been worn for several years. One day, his wrist was empty. He said he couldn’t find it. Joel is wearing a watch again. It wasn’t the original one. I said coldly, “Is that your answer?” Joel looked away. “I’ve done my best for you.” “See you at the Civil Affairs Bureau.”

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The moment we finalized a high-society marriage, the true daughter showed up, claiming that the richest couple were her real parents. Even my successful fiancé, she said, was supposed to be hers. I just nodded and smiled. Without my “Charm of Fortune,” would they even be the richest? Could my fiancé have become a rising star in business? Content My fiancé and I, childhood sweethearts, were nearing our wedding day when someone unexpected showed up at our home. She claimed to be my mom’s long-lost biological daughter, saying I’d stolen her life as an imposter heiress. After a DNA test, her story checked out. That night at dinner, Delilah Monroe slammed her chopsticks down and pointed at me, shouting, “Get out of my house! You don’t belong here!” My mom frowned, her voice soft as she said, “Delilah, don’t be so rude to your sister. Jojo may not be my biological daughter, but I raised her.” Delilah threw her bowl to the floor and burst into tears, flinging herself into my mom’s arms. She cried about how hard her life had been, growing up on her own. My mom’s eyes grew red as she listened to Delilah’s story of hardship. “But Jojo isn’t our real daughter. She shouldn’t bear our family name or live here,” Delilah insisted. Mom frowned but stayed silent. I finished my last shrimp and stood, “Well, if that’s how it is, I’ll move out for now. That way, you can spend time with Mom.” Delilah gave me a sharp glare. Mom, clearly heartbroken, slipped a debit card into my hand. “The PIN is your birthday.” Delilah saw the whole thing and broke into loud, panicked sobs. I made a call to Delilah’s brother—oh, I guess I should call him my brother now. Supposedly, a nurse had mixed us up at birth. When the call connected, I heard a gentle, refined male voice on the other end. “Yes, who’s this?” “I’m your sister—the one you’ve never met but are definitely related to. Could you come pick me up?” Half an hour later, a car pulled up at the front door. Delilah shoved me toward it. “Hurry up and leave. Don’t come back!” Mom kept reminding me to take care of myself as I left. I turned and saw my new brother, who had thoughtfully packed my luggage. Glancing at Delilah’s smug expression, I gave her a knowing smirk. “Hope you’re ready. Just don’t regret it later.” After that, I got into the car with my brother, who occasionally stole glances at me while he drove. “Our place is a little small. I hope that’s okay,” he said. “Not a problem! We’re siblings now—we’ll support each other!” I replied, beaming. The car stopped outside an apartment building. No elevator, just stairs. My brother carried my suitcase and had barely reached the door when his phone rang. After a few words, he started smiling and thanked the caller repeatedly. “What’s going on?” I asked when he hung up. “One of my coding projects just won an international award—there’s a $100,000 prize!” he said, clearly overjoyed. I congratulated him with a smile. “I never thought I’d win. I knew they’d pretty much picked the winner, so I just submitted it for fun. But it turns out the favorite dropped out, and I actually won.” I wasn’t surprised, really. I’ve had this “Charm of Fortune” since I was little, and it tends to rub off on those around me.

As a kid, I’d ace multiple-choice questions even with my eyes shut. “Get one free” bottle caps? A regular thing. I’d want ice cream, and suddenly, I’d find five dollars on the sidewalk. I even bought a lottery ticket once on a whim and won thirty million dollars. My parents took that windfall and started investing, so I got in on it too and bought a stock. The stock shot up, and we made a small fortune. From that point on, Mom and Dad’s business boomed. My fiancé, Zach, got his own share of the luck, becoming a rising star in the business world. I patted my brother on the shoulder. “You’ll be even richer soon.” He grinned and said he’d treat me to a nice dinner once the prize money came through. When he finally got it, he didn’t waste a moment before taking me out. During dinner, he mentioned how at work, everyone else had been slacking off while he worked hard, and his boss had noticed—he might even be getting a promotion and a raise. “Jojo, what do you think is up with my luck lately?” he asked. We went to a high-end restaurant, and just as we were ordering, in walked two familiar faces: Zach and Delilah. Delilah froze when she saw me, then angrily pointed at my brother. “Matthew Sinclair, what’s the deal? You’ve never taken me anywhere like this.” I grabbed her finger and twisted it upward with a grin, making her wince in pain. “That’s because we’re actual siblings,” I said, finally letting go as her face paled. “Jojo, it’s been a while,” Zach greeted me. Delilah immediately clung to his arm. “You’re my fiancé! Why are you talking to her?” Zach glanced at me, looking a little embarrassed as he pulled his arm free. “Jojo and I were engaged first. Even if you’re Mr. Carter’s biological daughter, our engagement still doesn’t count.” Delilah stiffened, her eyes welling with tears. “Why? She took everything that was supposed to be mine—Mom and Dad, and you too!” I chuckled and sat back down. Delilah found a seat too, sniffling as Zach’s gaze darted between us. “Jojo, did your parents really kick you out?” he asked. I nodded. “Didn’t you notice I’m here eating with my brother?” Looking uncomfortable, Zach made his way over to Delilah’s side. He still needed the Carter family’s help in business, after all. Now that I was no longer the “Carter heiress,” I’d lost that advantage. After we finished eating, I took my brother to check out some lottery tickets. Scanning the prizes, I picked the one with the biggest payout, while he jokingly scolded me. “Jojo, stop trying to make easy money. It’s better to earn it the hard way.” “I know, but in the face of real skill, everything else is just luck,” I teased. Luck is its own kind of strength, after all. I bought a ticket for two dollars. A week later, I hit the jackpot. After taxes and a donation, I pocketed a cool fifteen million. Matthew’s jaw practically dropped. “Are you… reincarnated as some kind of lucky charm?” To be honest, I’d wondered the same. It seemed pretty likely. Without a second thought, I bought a house right across from the Monroe Estate and moved in with glee. Even Delilah’s dog, who’d been in her arms, ran right over to me, wagging its tail like crazy. “What are you doing here? Get out of my house!” Delilah screeched. I pointed to the house across the street. “Funny you should mention it—that’s my place.” Delilah didn’t believe me until I threw the property deed in her face. My parents didn’t seem surprised in the slightest. After all, they’d built their fortune because I once bought a scratch-off ticket on a whim and won. They even invited me over for dinner.

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My sister has always been strange. She keeps telling me that she’s received phone calls from her future self. Everyone else thinks she’s crazy, but I know she’s not lying. Content 0When my sister, Vivian, was in elementary school, she was the tallest in her class, so she got chosen as the class monitor. One day, a new student transferred into her class—a boy named Jacob Thorn, though everyone would later call him “Thorn.” The teacher introduced him in front of the whole class, adding that Jacob had been in a bad accident and hadn’t fully recovered. She encouraged everyone to look out for him. Everyone politely nodded in agreement, but beneath the surface, something sinister had already been set in motion. Now everyone knew: Jacob had learning disabilities. That knowledge made him a target. Some students would secretly urinate into his water bottle and trick him into drinking it. Others dragged him over to the girls’ section, pulling his pants down in front of everyone. Some smeared superglue on paper, pressed it onto his back, and wrote in big red letters, “I’m brain-dead.” Maybe they all truly thought Jacob was “brain-dead” because he never fought back, only showed up day after day with a smile on his face, as if none of it fazed him. Vivian, as the monitor, was proud and upright. Seeing the way Jacob was tormented, she used her height and authority to intervene. She defended him time and again. But little did she know, by doing so, she was about to unleash a Pandora’s box. 0

After that, her things started to get tampered with. An apple she’d left on her desk was found with sewing needles stuffed inside the flesh. Her backpack—opened to find cockroaches crawling out from its hidden compartment. Someone even planted a blood-stained sanitary napkin in her lunchbox. And every so often, she’d find notes in red pen, covered in vile, hateful words. Eventually, Vivian couldn’t take it anymore and completely broke down. Her teacher, outraged upon discovering this, immediately halted classes to investigate. But the class remained silent; nobody spoke up, and the investigation reached a dead end. The class monitor, Tyson Carden, suggested an anonymous vote. Maybe then, someone would reveal the culprit. And sure enough, when the votes came in, nearly every one of them pointed to Jacob Thorn. Right there in class, the teacher searched Jacob’s pencil case and found a whole pack of needles, a container full of cockroaches, two unopened sanitary pads, and several adult magazines. With Jacob condemned, the stories about his “other dirty habits” started to circulate. Someone claimed he’d sneak back to the classroom during morning exercises to lick Vivian’s cup. Another said he would linger around her desk after school, sniffing her chair. Someone else swore they’d seen him staring at her while she slept, drooling, and rubbing himself. Hearing this, Vivian ran to the bathroom, retching for what felt like hours. She refused to leave home for a month, too traumatized to return to school. Her homeroom teacher, Ms. Loretta Banks, along with a few other class leaders, came to visit her, promising that Jacob had been “handled.” His parents had taken him out of school, and he wouldn’t ever be coming back. With enough reassurance, Vivian finally returned to school. Jacob was gone, and things seemed normal again. But the psychological scars he left on her would never heal. Vivian started having recurring nightmares. She’d describe to us in detail how, in her dreams, she’d be trapped in a dark tunnel with a pair of eyes staring relentlessly at her. No matter how hard she ran, there was no end, no escape from that gaze. Because of these nightmares, Vivian stopped wearing bright clothes, refused to go out after dark, and began to fear even the presence of boys. But, as fate would have it, one day during high school, everything changed. 0

On that day, a fierce storm hit—dark clouds rolling in, thunder crashing. By five in the afternoon, it was as dark as midnight. Dad, as usual, was on his way to pick her up, but he got stuck in rising floodwater, and the car stalled. Vivian waited at the school gate, watching as a hurried passerby accidentally knocked her phone from her hand, sending it splashing into a puddle. The screen instantly fizzled out. As it got later and the streets emptied, Vivian decided to brave the walk home on her own, opening her umbrella and staying on high alert. Normally, she’d take a shortcut down a narrow alley, but not today. She chose the main road, avoiding every possible risk. But despite all precautions, fate still caught up with her. A man appeared, trailing her from about thirty feet back, keeping a steady distance. She glanced at his reflection in a shop window and saw him—a man in a black hoodie, face covered by a mask. If she stopped to tie her shoe, he stopped. If she quickened her pace, he matched it. By now, the street was completely deserted, and her whole body began to shake. It wasn’t the first time her school had heard of incidents like this. There had been a string of assault cases, all in stormy weather, and the perpetrator had yet to be caught. But instead of letting her fear paralyze her, Vivian kept moving, though her heart was racing. As the man started to close the distance, Vivian used every ounce of strength she had to dash toward a fruit shop at the corner. Without thinking, she threw herself against the door, forcing it open with her shoulder. The shop owner, Mr. Ellis Grant—a silver-haired old man—nearly had a heart attack. Vivian dropped to her knees, gasping for air, and with a hoarse voice, told him, “Someone’s following me.” The old man’s face grew serious as he stepped outside. Sure enough, there stood the man in black, a specter lingering just beyond. Mr. Grant pointed at him and shouted, “You get out of here before I call the police!” The man hesitated for a second, then turned and vanished into the storm. Relieved, Mr. Grant handed Vivian a cup of hot water and attempted to call her family, but all the phones were down—the storm had knocked out local service. When she’d calmed down, he offered to walk her home himself. But as they turned a corner on the way, a shadow rushed out of nowhere, barreling into them with force. Vivian fell, dazed, but when she looked up, horror rooted her in place. Mr. Grant lay on the ground, clutching his neck, blood pouring from between his fingers. A bolt of lightning illuminated the street like daylight, and his face was frozen in a grimace of shock as his eyes stared, unseeing, straight at her. Vivian said she’d never forget that sight. 0

After that, Vivian was admitted to Rosehill Psychiatric Center. She couldn’t take her exams, and the police never found her attacker. Even after her release, she couldn’t shake the trauma. Our family tried to get her back to school, but after only two weeks, she begged our parents to let her stay home. Just walking into the building reminded her of Jacob Thorn and that stormy night. With no other choice, they agreed. But her fears never went away. Every time it rained, she’d curl up in a corner, muttering strange things. Everyone thought she was just spouting nonsense—everyone but me. I listened, taking her words seriously. Vivian told me that she’d waited five years for a second chance to set things right. She said that three days from now, another storm—just like that one—would come. I didn’t believe her, but sure enough, three days later, the Pacific storm hit. Dark clouds rolled in, thunder boomed, just like she said. I stared at her in disbelief, and she explained. Five years ago to the day, she’d received a phone call. She had been waiting at the school gate for Dad, with the wind howling around her, making it hard to hear. The signal was awful, but she heard a woman’s voice telling her, “You’re in danger. Find help now!” A second later, the passerby bumped into her, and her phone ended up in the puddle. I listened in silence before finally asking her, “Who was the woman that called you?” “It was me,” she said calmly. 0“I could never forget that number; it’s exactly the same as the one for our landline at home.”

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In the dead of night, I got pulled into the County Jailhouse on a misunderstanding while selling goods on the street. The officer looked at my ID and, with a strange expression, said, “Wait, you graduated from Washington Ivy College. What are you doing selling things on the street at this hour?” I realized with a shock—the ID number on the file was mine, but the photo wasn’t. It was Claire Bright’s. Twenty years ago, I had been accepted into Washington Ivy! I stumbled back home, dazed, only to overhear my husband Damon Everett on the phone saying, “Claire, don’t worry about Callie Reid bothering you. You just go ahead and move overseas.” It was him! Damon Everett had helped Claire Bright take over my life! My stomach churned. I turned to confront him and reveal the truth, but Damon caught me off guard, strangling me to death with his belt. His last words rang out coldly, “Sorry, Callie, but you can’t get in the way of Claire’s future.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back in high school, right in the classroom as my teacher handed out the college application forms. This time, I’m taking my life back. Content

“Callie, have you decided where you want to apply yet?” I snapped out of the pain-filled memories and turned to my desk mate. His young face seemed so strange and innocent. That’s when I realized: I’d been given a second chance. “Callie, what’s up with you?” he asked, worried. I smiled and shook my head to reassure him, a burst of joy flaring inside me. Our teacher—Mr. Everett, Damon’s father—began speaking. “Go ahead and fill out your forms so I can get an idea of your plans,” he said. I fixed my eyes on Mr. Everett. It struck me now—he was helping Damon scout out prospects for Claire. We already knew our test scores, so there was no reason to gather in class to fill out paper forms. But he was calling everyone here, probably just to pick out the best for Claire. I clenched my fists, remembering how Damon had started pursuing me around this same time in my last life. I filled out the form randomly, ignoring his instructions. When I glanced up, I caught Mr. Everett watching me with a look I couldn’t quite read. Sure enough, after I turned in the form, Mr. Everett called out, “Callie Reid, come to my office.” He took my form and walked off without another word. “You scored the highest in the class this time, Callie. You’re definitely going to Washington Ivy,” my desk mate said. I had scored 702 points, the highest in class, and still didn’t get in last time. I had gone to Mr. Everett so many times, desperate to know why, and he had blamed my rejection on overreaching, saying I’d aimed too high with his recommendation for the Pre-Law Program. I glanced over at Damon, who was napping in the corner. I nodded to my desk mate. No way would I fall for this twice. I pushed open the office door, and Mr. Everett looked up. “Callie, you scored very well. Why did you choose these schools?” I had listed community colleges, one after another. “High employment rate,” I answered, spacing out each word. Mr. Everett went silent, then softened his tone. “You don’t need to aim low, Callie. It’s better for a young woman to study law.” He opened his laptop, pulling up the application portal for me. I stared at the screen, holding back a sarcastic laugh. He thought he could push me into filling it out his way? Did he think I’d willingly pave the way for Claire again? “No thanks, Mr. Everett. I’d rather drive a tractor,” I said, and turned to go, nearly bumping into Damon in the doorway. “Callie Reid, if you need help with the applications, just let me know. I’ve always wanted to study law.” Hearing this, I felt a spark of suspicion. So that’s it—they’re both trying to steer me toward law, hoping I’ll fall into their trap. “No, thanks,” I said calmly. “I already know what I want.” Damon gave a faint smile. “Alright, then.” I left the office in a hurry, catching Damon as he closed the door and leaned against it to eavesdrop. “Dad, if Callie doesn’t cooperate, can’t we just pick someone else?” I froze. Damon was willing to ruin someone else’s life too if I didn’t go along with it? “Callie’s got the highest score. She’s the safest bet,” Mr. Everett replied in a cold tone. “We owe Claire this chance. You know that.” I walked away, shaking my head. Owe Claire? So now my future’s the currency they’re paying with?

In my past life, I gave up everything for Damon, putting in endless hours to retake the college exams. Damon said he’d register me but later claimed he couldn’t because of some new regulations. I believed him. Later, I wanted to try for the adult college exam, but he said it was pointless. I decided to take it anyway, but on the test day, my alarm didn’t go off. I confronted him, and he insisted he’d turned it off to let me sleep. I was furious, but he held me close, saying, “Callie, let’s just get married. I’ll love you whether or not you go to college.” I cried in his arms, dreams of my future slipping away. But he was happy to let them. Damon later claimed he’d racked up debt from a work project, so I took on three, four jobs a day to help him repay it. Looking back, he must have seen me as an obstacle in Claire’s path, something to be controlled. Back in the classroom, I packed my things and headed home, ignoring a message from my desk mate saying Damon had been looking for me. He wasn’t giving up. My parents worked out of town, and when they heard about my score, they sent me some money and ordered a cake for me, though they wouldn’t be back until next month. I understood them—they were out there working construction jobs, every day on the job meaning one more day’s pay. I wasn’t in any rush to submit my college preferences; there were still two days left. But some people were getting antsy. That night, I went for a walk and ran into Damon. “Fancy meeting you here, Callie.” “Don’t you live on the west side?” I asked, already annoyed. Damon shrugged. “I had some errands over here. Want some company?” “No,” I said icily. “Stay away from me.” Damon looked stunned, then hurt. “Do you…hate me?” I stared at him. “Yes. So stay away from me.” Damon took a sharp breath. With his looks and popularity, he probably couldn’t fathom why I’d hate him so much. If it wasn’t illegal, I’d have knifed him already and been done with it. “Callie, if you hate me, at least tell me why.” Damon’s voice was low, his gaze intense. It was true—Damon was handsome. Otherwise, how would he have had me wrapped around his finger before? A voice called from nearby. “Damon, what are you doing here?” Claire Bright ran over and clung to his arm. I saw him tense up, just barely, but I noticed. It was my first close look at the woman who stole my future. “Who’s this?” Claire’s eyes narrowed at me. I smiled. “Callie Reid, Damon’s classmate.” Claire’s face shifted slightly. “Didn’t you say you were going to get me some snacks?” So, they’d just happened to bump into each other. Damon smoothly replied, “I forgot. You go home; I’ve got something to handle here.” Claire’s voice sharpened. “Damon, what do you mean?” He ushered her off, then turned back to me, his expression serious. “She’s just my mom’s friend’s daughter.” “Why tell me?” I asked. Damon’s tone was earnest. “I like you. I don’t want you to misunderstand.” I felt a wave of revulsion. Here we go again. “Well, I don’t like you,” I shot back. “You make me sick.” Damon’s face paled as he clenched his fists. “What did I do wrong?” “Your face is ugly,” I snapped, starting to walk away. “Callie Reid!” he shouted after me. “I’m not giving up!” I laughed coldly to myself. Only two days left. What could he possibly do?

The next day, I got home after school to find dozens of roses outside my door. Damon stood in the hallway, his tall figure cutting an impressive silhouette. “Callie, I know my confession was rushed yesterday. I want to do it properly this time.” “No matter how ‘proper’ you make it, I’ll never like you,” I replied coldly. “Well, who do you like then?” His voice was almost desperate. “Is there anyone better looking than me?” I fished out my keys, ignoring him. “Damon, I don’t like you, and I never will. You’re trash.” “Callie, you don’t have to be so harsh,” he said, trying to control his temper. I stared him down, saying nothing. “If you’re serious about law, you should submit your application soon.” I smirked, feeling a wicked sense of mischief. “Nah. I think I’d rather drive a tractor.” I watched as a vein throbbed in Damon’s temple. I unlocked the door, swinging it closed so forcefully that it nearly hit him in the nose. The next day, I got flooded with messages. Word had spread that “the heartthrob” had confessed to me, and everyone knew. Of course, Damon was the one spreading it. Mr. Everett called me multiple times, and after I ignored him, he finally got through. “Callie, you’re a good kid. I have no problem with you dating Damon.” He hadn’t minded in my past life either. Back then, I’d been happy he didn’t hold it against me that I hadn’t gotten into college. “My son has always wanted to study law and become a top lawyer. I’d love it if you could join him in that effort.” I smiled, a spark lighting up my eyes. “Sure.” Mr. Everett hesitated, then chuckled. “You agreeing is fantastic news.” I hung up and laughed. Playing along with them was going to be fun. Without me, Claire Bright would have no hope. I’d make sure no one else fell into their trap. Damon heard I’d agreed to be with him and rushed over. “Did you submit your application yet?” he asked immediately. “Not yet. Tomorrow.” Damon relaxed, looking relieved. “Want to come out with me?” Damon asked. “My friends are having a little get-together.” I nodded. “Sure.” Damon studied me, clearly thrown off by my sudden change in attitude. But that didn’t matter. He was the one with a time limit now, not me. Claire Bright was there too, and when she spotted me, she shot a dramatic eye-roll in my direction. I looked straight at her. “Claire, you got something wrong with your eye?” “What?” Claire blinked, caught off guard. “Why’re you rolling your eyes at me? Do it again, and I’ll poke them out for you.” Claire jerked to her feet, fuming, but Damon pushed her back down. “Claire, have some manners.” Her face turned red with anger. “Damon, I can’t believe you’d talk to me like that!” I raised my hand and slapped her across the face. Everyone froze, shocked. Claire cupped her cheek, and Damon’s expression changed immediately. “Callie Reid! How dare you hit me!”

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At night, my husband Caspian wept silently under the covers. I handed him a tissue. Seeing him so distraught made me feel uneasy too. I wanted to comfort him, but I couldn’t empathize. We were still in the honeymoon phase of our relationship. I quietly took out my phone and searched “How to comfort my husband after he broke up with his mistress.” At night, my husband Caspian wept silently under the covers. I handed him a tissue. Seeing him so distraught made me feel uneasy too. I wanted to comfort him, but I couldn’t empathize. We were still in the honeymoon phase of our relationship. I quietly took out my phone and searched “How to comfort my husband after a breakup.” Caspian was crying again. I didn’t know where all those tears came from. His secretary, Wren Lee, was a rich girl who had condescended to be his assistant. She was gentle and caring. Why couldn’t they just stay together instead of fighting? Seeing him cry so hard that the bedsheets were getting wet, I pulled out a tissue and handed it to him. Caspian ignored me completely, treating me like thin air as he continued to wipe his tears. His sobs grew louder. He clearly didn’t care that his lawful wife was right there. I sighed, picked up my phone, and quietly walked out. I opened Google and typed “How to comfort my husband after a breakup.” But there wasn’t a single useful answer! Just a bunch of snarky responses from trolls. I grabbed a bag of my favorite chips and munched on them noisily. At least my boyfriend Daniel was less trouble. He was still in college but spent all his savings on me, bringing me fruits and snacks every day. His emotional support was off the charts too. He was much better at cheering me up than Caspian’s stone-faced self. Early the next morning, Caspian left the house with bloodshot eyes. “I’m going to work,” he said. I wondered if he and his secretary would make up today. After Caspian left, I immediately texted my darling: [Baby, I bought you a gift. I’ll pick you up later, wait for me at the school gate, okay?] [Okay (^▽^)] Kids will be kids. A little gift is enough to make him over the moon. Plus, the feeling of using my husband’s money to spoil my boyfriend was just too good! When I arrived at Georgetown University, Daniel was already waiting for me. He waved as soon as he saw me approach. “Ottilie, I missed you so much.” I threw myself into Daniel’s arms. “I missed you too.” I took out the gift I bought for Daniel – a pair of limited edition sneakers. I remembered Daniel really liked this brand. Daniel’s eyes lit up when he saw the shoes, his face breaking into a smile. I poked his dimple. “Do you like them?” “I love them. I love anything you give me.” Kids are so sweet with their words. Unlike that stone-faced Caspian, who frowns at me every day like I owe him a million dollars. After a crazy day out with Daniel, before we parted, he handed me a big box of strawberries. “I grew these myself. You love strawberries, right? I tried many varieties, and this is the sweetest one.” Oh right, Daniel was an agriculture major, specializing in growing things. I took the box from his hands and hugged it. Daniel patted my head. “In the future, just tell me what fruit you want to eat. I can grow anything for you.” “Okay!” I returned home hugging the big box of strawberries. Caspian wasn’t back yet when I arrived. I removed the stems, washed them clean, and took them to the couch, planning to binge-watch shows while eating. The TV was playing news about Caspian and Wren’s rumored affair. The media was praising them as a perfect match, talented and beautiful. Some even directly asked if wedding bells were in their future. Wren blushed and looked at Caspian when she heard this. Looks like they made up. I grabbed the remote and changed the channel. Who wants to watch their love drama? It’s not even as good as a soap opera. The strawberries Daniel grew were really sweet. Each one was big and juicy. I’ll have to ask for more next time. Just as I was happily eating strawberries on the couch, Caspian came home. As soon as he entered, he saw the strawberries in my hand. He stared at them for a moment, then his expression darkened. Could he know these were from Daniel? But I don’t care about him and Wren anymore, so why should he care about me! I watched his gloomy face, afraid to speak. Caspian strode over, snatched the strawberries away, and smashed them on the floor, stomping them to mush in two or three steps. “What are you doing? Those are my strawberries!” “You’re not allowed to touch them!” I lunged forward to stop him but was pushed to the ground. Mrs. Wilson, our housekeeper, came out of the kitchen and restrained the frenzied Caspian. “From now on, no strawberries are allowed in this house.” “Yes, sir.” With that, he went upstairs without even looking at me. I crouched on the floor, silently crying as I looked at the ruined strawberries. I reached out to gather them into a bowl bit by bit. They were from Daniel. I didn’t want to waste them, but they really couldn’t be eaten now. I could only throw them in the trash. Damn Caspian, I don’t know what’s gotten into him. What did my strawberries ever do to him! Tomorrow I’m going to use his credit card to buy Daniel a house. That’ll show him! That night, I lay in bed fuming, still thinking about the strawberries Caspian had crushed. Caspian and I had been together since college. Back then, he was a poor orphan, but he treated me well. We got married after graduation. But after marriage, he became busier and busier, until I saw him parading around with his secretary. That night, I smashed everything in the house, questioning him like a madwoman. I wanted to know if he still loved me! What the hell was Caspian trying to do! His cold response was: “It’s just normal socializing for work. Don’t overthink it.” With just that one sentence, he shattered our six years of love. From then on, he no longer cared about my feelings. Since I’d already found out, he simply brought his secretary Wren home openly. How he used to treat me, he now treated Wren the same way. Wren’s provocative glances, Caspian’s tacit permission. They tormented me to the brink of a mental breakdown. Until I met Daniel. Daniel was really like Caspian used to be. His heart and eyes were full of only me. He was willing to comfort me, to cheer me up. Most importantly, he only loved me. I really liked him. The next day, taking advantage of Caspian being at work, I went to see Daniel again. When I arrived, Daniel was in the experimental field, pants rolled up, playing in the mud. No, that’s not right. Daniel said he was measuring soil moisture. I had Daniel change his clothes immediately, then took him to a real estate sales center. I bought a two-bedroom apartment outright. Sigh, Caspian doesn’t give me much pocket money, so this was all I could afford for now. I really feel bad for my Daniel. After I divorce that scumbag, I’ll take half his assets and buy Daniel an even bigger house. “Daniel, what do you think of this house? Do you like it?” Daniel came over and hugged me. “I love anything you give me. Once I graduate, I promise I’ll give you an even better life. Ottilie, trust me!” Hearing Daniel say this, I fell into deep thought. Caspian used to say the same things, but in the end, he still ended up with Wren. A man’s words can’t be trusted. “Daniel, I’m only giving you one chance. If you ever betray me in the future, I’ll never forgive you!” I felt Daniel’s arms tighten around me, his voice tinged with nervousness. “Ottilie, believe me, I will never betray you. You have to trust me!” I turned to look at Daniel. I could clearly see the love in his eyes, and I believed he truly loved me now. But sorry, I only believe my eyes and my heart. The moment I can’t feel your love, I’ll leave immediately. I can fall in love with the wrong person, but I’ll never be blindly obsessed. I just want my life to be stable and happy. It was already late when I got home in the evening. Caspian had come back early today. When I arrived, Caspian had already finished dinner. Mrs. Wilson was clearing the table. That housekeeper, I don’t know when it started, but she only listens to Caspian now. She treats my words like background noise. I guess she’s figured out that Caspian doesn’t care about me anymore. After all, the one who pays her salary is the real boss. Luckily, I had already eaten outside. Otherwise, I’d have to cook for myself when I got back. After showering, I lay on the bed mindlessly scrolling through news. A headline caught my eye: “Bennett Group Splurges $40 Million in Grand Romantic Gesture, All to Make Fiancée Smile.” Fiancée, huh? I guess this old maid is about to be laid off. His parents never liked me anyway. A $40 million ring – he must have bought it for Wren. I reached into the bedside drawer and took out a ring. It was a simple band with no gemstone. But it had lost its former luster. This was the ring Caspian proposed to me with. It cost $100, earned from a week of part-time work. He proposed when we were still in college. It was the best ring he could afford at the time. I casually tossed the ring back into the drawer and got up to go to the study. I wanted to talk to him about our divorce. Caspian was still working at this hour. The door was open, so I went in directly. “Caspian, when are we getting divorced?” Caspian kept looking at something in his hands, not answering my question. “Caspian, when exactly are we getting divorced? I really don’t want to be with you anymore!” “Let’s part ways amicably.” Caspian still stared at whatever was in his hands without speaking. After what seemed like an eternity, I vaguely heard him say: “Let’s get divorced first.” On the first day Caspian agreed to divorce me, Wren came knocking at our door. She waltzed right in and sat down like she owned the place, acting as if she were the real lady of the house. “So big sis has finally agreed to divorce? Should have done this earlier. Why cling to a man who doesn’t love you?” “Caspian is the CEO of Bennett Group now. Someone like you isn’t worthy of him!” Wren’s eyes gleamed with undisguised malice as she looked at me. She could barely contain her eagerness to see me kicked to the curb. I was about to retort when Caspian walked in with a lawyer. As soon as Wren saw Caspian, her demeanor changed completely. “Caspian, darling, you’re back.” This little minx sure knows how to put on an act. Why doesn’t she go learn face-changing in Bejing Opera? She could even help preserve an intangible cultural heritage.

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My husband had promised to visit his family first before New Year’s Eve, then return with me to Oakridge, TN, so we could spend New Year’s Eve with my family. But on December 31, he said he didn’t feel like going anymore. Frustrated, I argued with him. Suddenly, he grabbed the fireplace poker nearby, pinned me to the ground, and beat me viciously. Meanwhile, his family stood by, egging him on, even shouting that he should just kill me. The blows landed with searing pain, and though I fought back with everything I had, it was four against one. As dusk settled, they left me in the corner of the yard, bruised and battered, and went inside to enjoy their holiday dinner. When I regained consciousness, I realized something profound. Content 0 Daryl and I had fallen in love naturally. We worked for the same company but in different departments. One day, we met while collaborating on the same project. That was when Daryl fell for me, head over heels. He went out of his way to win my affection. At 28, I wasn’t getting any younger, and my parents were pressing me to settle down. They even threatened to set me up with someone if I didn’t bring home a boyfriend for the holidays. Daryl, tall and broad-shouldered with a bright, charming demeanor, had exactly the look that melted my heart. It didn’t take long for me to agree to date him. We dated for two years, meeting each other’s families during that time. Eventually, under pressure from both sides, we tied the knot. This year marked our first New Year’s as a married couple. As a daughter living away from home, I couldn’t help but yearn to spend the holidays with my parents. So I suggested to Daryl that we visit his family first, then head to my parents’ place in Oakridge on December 31. Initially, Daryl wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but my persistent coaxing won him over. To sweeten the deal, I bought him the gaming console he’d been eyeing for months but had been too frugal to buy. Once he had that console, a grin never left his face. With the plans finalized, I threw myself into getting everything ready for the trip. Finally, on December 24, we packed up the car and drove to Dry Creek, KY, where Daryl’s family lived. His parents and sisters were delighted to see us, especially since I had thoughtfully prepared expensive gifts for everyone. The first few days at their house were pleasant. Then came December 31. I didn’t want to risk getting stuck in a traffic jam, so on December 30, I loaded everything we’d need for my parents’ house into the car. That night, I encouraged Daryl to get a good night’s rest so we could hit the road early. The thought of reuniting with my family after six months filled me with so much joy that I couldn’t sleep. The alarm rang early, and I sprang out of bed. Daryl was still asleep, so I gently woke him up. “Babe, I’m going to wash up. You should get up too, freshen up, and we’ll grab a quick bite before heading out.” I was too excited to notice the odd expression flickering across his face. After washing up and getting dressed, I waited for a long while, but Daryl didn’t come out. By the time I checked the clock, it was already 9:30 a.m. Worried about holiday traffic, I went back to the bedroom to wake him. When I opened the door, I found Daryl burrowed under the covers, snoring so loudly it could shake the walls. Peeling back the blanket, I saw the dark circles under his eyes and remembered how hard he’d worked preparing for the holidays. Feeling a twinge of guilt, I decided we could leave after lunch. Quietly, I tucked him back in and left the room. In the yard, I called my parents to let them know we’d be late and went to the kitchen to prepare lunch. 0

After lunch, I began urging Daryl to start driving me back to my parents’ place. “Everything’s packed. You just need to drive,” I said, grabbing his arm and leading him toward the car. “It’s a long trip, but you can drive the first leg. When we get to a rest area, we’ll swap, and I’ll take over. That way, we won’t get too tired, and we might even make it in time for dinner!” I was so caught up in my excitement that I didn’t notice the growing irritation on Daryl’s face. As we approached the yard gate, he suddenly pulled his arm away and bellowed, “I’m not going!” The force of his words stunned me. I froze for a moment, staring at him in disbelief. “What did you say?” I stammered. His face was etched with frustration. Without sparing me a glance, he repeated, “I said, I’m not going,” and turned to walk back into the house. I hurried after him, grabbing his arm again. “Daryl Whitaker! What do you mean, you’re not going? You promised we’d spend New Year’s at my parents’ house! What’s this all about?” He yanked his arm free and snapped, “I said I’m not going because I don’t feel like it. Can’t you understand that?” He stormed off, leaving me standing there, stunned by his blunt dismissal. As I watched him walk away, realization hit me like a ton of bricks. The promise to spend New Year’s Eve with my family had been a lie. He had lured me to Dry Creek, far from my parents in Oakridge, knowing I’d be trapped. Without the car keys, and with the holiday rush making it impossible to buy a bus ticket, I had no way of leaving. It was all a calculated move to ensure that I had no choice but to stay here for New Year’s. Fury welled up inside me. I charged toward him and kicked him hard in the leg. “Daryl Whitaker! You planned this, didn’t you? You never intended to visit my parents, did you? You lied to me!” Daryl winced but quickly switched tactics, his tone softening as he tried to pacify me. “Savannah, think about it. Around here, no married woman goes back to her parents for New Year’s. It’s tradition for wives to stay with their in-laws.” I let out a bitter laugh. “That’s not how my family works! My parents, my brother, and my sister all want me to come home. Just because your family doesn’t want their daughters back doesn’t mean mine feels the same way!” Seeing that I wasn’t backing down, Daryl tried again, this time appealing to my sense of fairness. “Savannah, if you leave, what will people here think? What will they say about me? About my parents? Can’t you just give me this one year? Stay here, for my sake.” “Your sake?” I snapped, glaring at him. “Your reputation? That’s what this is about? You agreed to go, and now you’re backing out. You’re shameless!” Daryl’s expression darkened, but he admitted, “If I hadn’t agreed, you would’ve argued endlessly. So yeah, I said yes to keep you quiet.” I stared at him, dumbfounded. “Are you seriously trying to pin this on me?!” I demanded. To my shock, he nodded. “Well, yeah. Who else am I supposed to blame, Savannah?” A laugh bubbled out of me, bitter and furious. “Daryl Whitaker, you have the nerve to blame me for your lies? You’re unbelievable!” Before I could say more, a commotion drew my attention. Daryl’s parents, Marlene and Clyde, along with his sisters, Brenda and Josie, poured out of the house. Their expressions ranged from smug satisfaction to thinly veiled disdain. Clearly, they’d overheard the argument. Daryl’s ego couldn’t take the hit. His face twisted in anger, and before I could react, he slapped me across the face. The force of the blow left me reeling, tears springing to my eyes. “You’re no man!” I yelled, clutching my stinging cheek. Furious, I raised my hand to strike back, but he grabbed my wrist and twisted it sharply. Pain shot through my arm. Before I could cry out, a heavy blow landed on my head. The world spun, and my vision blurred. The fireplace poker he’d swung at me clattered to the ground as I crumpled. The moment I hit the dirt, his kicks and punches started raining down. “You don’t listen!” he shouted. “You had to keep pushing me!” “You’re desperate to go back to Oakridge? Why? Got a lover waiting for you?” “You’re nothing but trouble!” I curled into a ball, shielding my head with my hands, trying to endure the relentless assault. Amid the chaos, I heard his family’s voices, loud and gleeful. “Teach her a lesson, Daryl! Women need to know their place!” Marlene crowed. “Don’t hit her too hard, son. You don’t want her too bruised for tonight,” Clyde added, laughing cruelly. “She needs this,” Brenda chimed in. “Who does she think she is, trying to go back to her parents’ house?” “Hit her harder, Daryl!” Josie yelled. “If she’s still moving, you’re not doing it right!” Their taunts echoed around me as I lay there, battered and broken. It was in that moment I realized the full extent of the nightmare I’d walked into. This family wasn’t just cruel—they were monsters. I tried to push myself up, to fight back, but the dizziness overwhelmed me. The first blow to my head must have caused a concussion. My vision swam, and darkness crept in. As my consciousness slipped away, I heard their laughter, loud and unrelenting, as they returned to the house. I was left alone in the yard, discarded like trash. 0

The winter wind bit into my skin like icy needles, making every part of me ache. The cold night air howled through the yard as I slowly opened my eyes. It was a moonless, star-filled night. I was still lying in the corner of the Whitakers’ yard, abandoned and forgotten. Inside the house, Daryl’s family was gathered, enjoying their New Year’s Eve dinner and watching the ball drop on TV. The pain radiating from my body brought me fully back to my senses. I tried to move, wincing as I propped myself up against the corner of the wall. The sting in my head and the bruises on my body were made worse by the bitter wind cutting through my clothes. I was cold to my core—inside and out. That’s when everything became clear. The Whitakers weren’t just cruel. They were monsters. They had stood by as Daryl beat me, egging him on, as if my suffering were a spectator sport. This was their way of showing me my place. In their eyes, now that I was married to Daryl, I belonged to him—and by extension, to them. If I dared to resist their rules, they’d punish me however they wanted. I wasn’t a wife to them. I was their servant, their obedient daughter-in-law, their personal ATM. I looked through the window at their cheerful gathering. Holding onto the wall for support, I moved as silently as possible. Fortunately, Daryl’s bedroom was far enough from the dining room that they couldn’t hear me. I crept into his room, my fingers trembling as I rummaged through his clothes. Finally, I felt the cold metal of the car keys in his pocket. With the keys secured, I grabbed my phone and purse. In the dark, I slipped back out of the bedroom and toward the main gate. Luckily, the gate wasn’t fully shut, just left slightly ajar. I nudged it open just enough to squeeze through, keeping as quiet as possible.

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Quinn Harper, my stepdaughter, is indifferent by nature and believes in “taking life as it comes.” When she got into a Community College after the SAT, I worked part-time jobs on top of my nursing shifts to pay her tuition. She mocked me for being too concerned about pride and meddling in her business. After coasting through college, she struggled to find a job. I swallowed my pride and asked an old classmate to help her secure a position. She accused me of being too ambitious, saying I took someone else’s opportunity. When she made mistakes at work and offended the wealthy elites, I apologized to her superiors on her behalf. She scolded me for being embarrassing, saying I didn’t know how to “take life as it comes.” In the end, her seemingly effortless nature caught the eye of Hunter Caldwell, a wealthy heir. She married into his family, skyrocketing to the top. Meanwhile, I was inexplicably suspended from work. When I asked for her help, she said it was my punishment for being greedy and advised me to learn to let go. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day her college admission results came out. Content

“Don’t worry, Quinn. My job’s not too busy—I can pick up another side gig and cover your college tuition.” The words spilled out before I realized what I was saying. Memories came flooding back, and I suddenly understood—I’d been reborn. As expected, the next moment, Quinn’s indifferent voice reached my ears. “Why do you always care so much about pride? What’s wrong with just taking life as it comes?” That was how it had gone in my past life. Quinn wasn’t my biological daughter, but I’d raised her since she was little and treated her as my own. I thought her constant criticisms were just her being overly sensitive. So, I kept bending over backward for her. To give her a good start in life, I worked day and night as a nurse and picked up a side job paying $10 an hour after my shifts. I managed to scrape together enough to get her through that Community College. But instead of being grateful, she blamed me for her failures, saying I cared more about my reputation than her happiness, wasting four years of her youth. When she graduated, her lack of skills left her unemployable at any decent workplace. I had to swallow my pride and beg an old college friend to find her a job. Once she started working, she accused me of being manipulative and taking opportunities from others. When she made mistakes, I even apologized to her boss on her behalf. She said I was humiliating and obsessed with success, refusing to “take life as it comes.” Because of her, my reputation among colleagues and family was destroyed. Yet her laid-back, “go-with-the-flow” attitude managed to captivate Hunter Caldwell, who saw her as refreshingly different. She climbed her way into his wealthy world while I was inexplicably suspended and ostracized. When I asked for her help, she didn’t even look at me. All she said was, “I told you to take life as it comes. If you’re like this now, it’s because you couldn’t let go of your selfish ambitions. I can’t help you.” Remembering all this, I met Quinn’s indifferent gaze and asked, “Are you sure you want to live like this? Taking life as it comes?” Quinn’s eyes flickered briefly with unease before she quickly regained her composure. “Of course,” she replied matter-of-factly. Her confidence stemmed from always having everything handed to her. So I nodded, pretending to agree. “Alright then. You’re an adult now. I’m not obligated to take care of you anymore. Do whatever you want.” For the first time, Quinn’s aloof demeanor almost cracked. Feigning nonchalance, she muttered, “But if I don’t go to college, how will I get a job and take care of you in the future?” I let out a soft laugh.

So, she knew going to college was in her best interest after all. But what did that have to do with me? I ignored her muttering and went straight to my bedroom for a nap. Cooking or cleaning? Let it all “take life as it comes.” The next morning, as I was getting ready for work, Quinn Harper blocked my path. She held up her phone, showing me her Instagram Stories. Post after post from her classmates: “Finally graduated high school! Thanks, Mom!” “New phone from Dad—ready for college!” Her smug reminder brought back memories—I’d lived through this moment before. Right on cue, Quinn spoke. “I don’t need anything fancy. Just something that works.” “Something that works,” huh? In my past life, feeling guilty, I took a day off work to buy her a tablet. At the store, she picked up the most expensive Apple model and said with a casual tone, “Taking life as it comes means going with the first thing I see. This one will do.” Not wanting to embarrass her, I gritted my teeth and bought it. Later, when a colleague visited and saw the tablet, they remarked, “Wow, you really spoil your daughter.” Before I could respond, Quinn scoffed, “She just wanted to show off. I would’ve been fine with anything.” This time, I wasn’t playing along. I picked up her phone and examined it. “Looks like this works fine. Why get a new one?” I smiled. Quinn looked ready to argue but held back. I added, “Don’t worry so much about appearances. Taking life as it comes should be enough for you, right?” Her composure cracked, and she stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind her. She didn’t come home that night. The next morning, she returned dressed head-to-toe in designer labels, carrying shopping bags with a brand-new laptop and phone. She made a show of setting them prominently on the table, then loudly started unboxing them. When I didn’t react, she finally broke the silence. “Pretty lucky, huh? I bought a lottery ticket and won $20,000.” “Taking life as it comes really pays off. Being stingy never gets you anywhere.” I mentally calculated. Her college tuition was $20,000 a year, and her living expenses would cost at least the same. That $20,000 wouldn’t even cover a semester if she kept up this lifestyle. But I kept my thoughts to myself and casually said, “$20,000 should cover your college expenses.” Quinn’s expression turned dismissive as she stood up, her gaze icy. “Don’t you get it? When you live life as it comes, the universe helps you. People like you, burdened with distractions, only hurt themselves. Just look at us.” I didn’t bother responding. Reasoning with someone like her was pointless. When the holidays ended, Quinn left for college, and I turned my focus back to my career. I majored in nursing in college. After graduating, I went straight into the field, working as a nurse. Among the colleagues who joined the hospital the same year as me, most either switched careers or moved on to other hospitals. Even the least successful of them had climbed to become charge nurses in secondary wards. Meanwhile, I was still stuck in the same place, treading water.

But every time I reached a promotion milestone, Quinn caused problems. When she was in elementary school, she claimed the cafeteria food made her sick. So, I meticulously prepared meals and delivered them daily. In middle school, she said she was overwhelmed by pressure. I adjusted every aspect of her life—her meals, her schedule, her room decor—so she’d always be in a good mood. By high school, during the time Marcus passed away, she declared she didn’t want to go to school anymore. She took a break from school, and I picked up my old textbooks to tutor her myself. I sacrificed nearly everything for her, including my career. And in my past life, all I got in return was, “You’re too distracted. It’s your fault things turned out this way.” Quinn, however, believed everything she gained was a reward for her “go-with-the-flow” approach. But this time, it wasn’t too late. With work being hectic, I used whatever free time I had over the next year to earn my nursing certification. Then I submitted my application to the Nursing Department to become a charge nurse. With my years of experience, my promotion was practically guaranteed. By my second year in this role, Quinn graduated college. Just like in the past, she majored in nursing. But unlike before, I didn’t immediately rush to find her a job. A week later, one evening, she finally broke her silence. Holding a glass of milk from the fridge, she knocked on my door. When I opened it, she stood there looking almost unchanged from four years ago—her face as emotionless as ever, though her eyes now held a hint of uncertainty. “I haven’t found a job yet,” she said. “Since you’re in nursing, what kind of position do you think I should look for?” Before I could reply, she added quickly, “I’m just worried about not being able to take care of you when you’re older. That’s all.” Her attempt at justification was laughable. In my past life, when Quinn returned after graduation, I was still a low-level nurse without the qualifications to speak up. To help her, I’d swallowed my pride and begged Violet Sawyer, a former college roommate who now worked as the director of the maternity ward. We’d never gotten along, but I humbled myself for Quinn. Violet eventually pulled some strings, and Quinn landed a job at Starlight Medical Center, a dream for most nursing graduates. But once she started working, she didn’t hold back from openly mocking me. She told coworkers I was manipulative, forcing her into a position she never wanted. She insisted she hated nursing, claiming I’d stolen someone else’s opportunity to satisfy my ambitions. She said she just wanted to “take life as it comes,” but I kept pushing her into things she didn’t want. Her words spread like wildfire, and colleagues started filing complaints against me. By the time I lost my job, it was too late to understand why. A kind coworker later revealed the truth—Quinn had been behind it all. Remembering this, I stared at the Quinn standing before me. The warmth in my voice disappeared. “If you don’t have the skills, don’t blame the lack of opportunities. Instead of complaining, maybe start by asking yourself if you’re qualified.” Quinn’s face darkened. “But you’ve been promoted already. Why can’t you just use your position to help me out?” I almost laughed out loud.

In my previous life, when I stepped in to help Quinn Harper, she accused me of being manipulative, stealing someone else’s opportunity, and not letting her “take life as it comes.” This time, I chose not to help her. But now, she had the audacity to ask me to “naturally” help her out. The hypocrisy was laughable. I shoved her out of the way and, with thinly veiled irritation, said, “If I help you, what happens to everyone else? Can’t you stop being so selfish? Isn’t taking life as it comes good enough for you?” Quinn’s face turned pale, her composure visibly shaken. I closed the door in her face, cutting her off completely. The days passed uneventfully after that. Apart from Quinn’s occasional attempts to linger around me, life felt peaceful again. Until one otherwise ordinary morning when I saw her at Maplewood General Hospital. History, it seemed, had a habit of repeating itself. Somehow, she had managed to reconnect with my old college roommate, Violet Sawyer. There she was, following closely behind Violet, basking in the attention of the nurses in Violet’s department. Quinn looked as calm and detached as ever, while Violet, all smiles, introduced her to the team. Something about the scene felt deeply unsettling. Violet and I had been college roommates, but we were never close. Violet struggled in her courses and often asked me for help. I obliged by marking key points in her textbooks. But behind my back, she mocked me for showing off my knowledge. She even made fun of the notes I’d prepared for her, claiming I was overbearing. Unluckily for her, I overheard one of her snide remarks. In my frustration, I threw her book back at her. From that moment, our polite acquaintance turned into mutual hostility. Years later, working in the same hospital, I avoided her as much as possible. But Violet always found ways to make my life harder—fiddling with my schedules or pinning mistakes made by trainees on me. To call her an enemy wouldn’t be an exaggeration. So why had she gone out of her way to help Quinn, knowing full well that she was my stepdaughter? The kindness seemed far too calculated. Lost in thought, I didn’t notice Quinn walking toward me until she was right in front of me. Her eyes scanned me up and down before she said with an air of nonchalance, “Even without your help, I’ll rise to the top. Surpassing you is only a matter of time.” I didn’t dignify her comment with a response. I was certain Violet had ulterior motives for helping her. And in a role like this, without real competence, Quinn would eventually face the consequences of her own shortcomings. But Quinn wasn’t ready to let me walk away. She sidestepped to block my path and said coolly, “The head nurse who got me in wants to meet you. Tomorrow at noon. Be there.” Without waiting for a reply, she turned and left. As I watched her retreating figure, I marveled at the sheer thickness of her skin. Despite my doubts, I decided to go to the meeting. As the saying goes, “Know your enemy and know yourself.” At 10 a.m. the next day, Quinn brought me to a café on the corner of Ashwood Heights. Violet arrived at 11:30, a full hour and a half late. For the entire time, Quinn sat there exuding a false sense of righteousness, as if she were a saint offering me a golden opportunity. When Violet finally showed up, she didn’t even glance at Quinn. Dropping her bag on the table, she said curtly, “You can leave now.” Quinn’s carefully maintained demeanor faltered for a moment, though she quickly forced herself to appear composed. She offered a polite goodbye to Violet before walking out.

I turned my gaze toward Violet, confused but unamused. “If you have something to say, get to the point. We’re not exactly on friendly terms.” Violet smirked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her dark brown eyes gleamed with smugness. “Don’t think I don’t know why you worked so hard to become charge nurse—it was all to get your precious little stepdaughter into this hospital.” Feigning surprise, she covered her mouth with her hand and added with mock sympathy, “Too bad. Your darling Quinn is working under me now. Here’s the deal—if you beg me, admit you’ll never be as good as I am, I’ll give her an easy schedule.” She paused, leaning forward slightly, her grin widening. “But if you don’t, I’ll make sure Quinn gets a taste of the hell you’ve been through these past few years.” Her words left me momentarily speechless. Before, everyone knew how much I doted on Quinn. I shielded her from the world, refusing suitors after Marcus passed, fearful that a new relationship might make her feel unloved. But that life had taught me a bitter lesson. Quinn Harper was nothing more than an ungrateful parasite. The kind of person who bites the hand that feeds her. A wolf in sheep’s clothing.

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After giving birth to a daughter, my husband started verbally and physically abusing me. My life hit rock bottom, and I spent my days in tears. Just when I was at my most desperate, I suddenly found myself transported to a reversed world. This was a matriarchal society where men were responsible for housework and childcare, while women worked outside the home to support the family. During the transportation, I received a special gift – the ability to bring one person with me on this journey through time and space. Without hesitation, I chose my husband. I had just woken up when I saw my husband kneeling beside me. My mother, who had always been somewhat afraid of my husband in our original world, was now standing in front of him, yelling: “You useless man who can’t even lay eggs! What good are you to us? “All these years and you still can’t give us a child. “Tell me, is your belly just for storing food?” Mom seemed unsatisfied with just yelling. After finishing her tirade, she slapped my husband hard across the face. The crisp sound of the slap echoed through the room. Just hearing it made me feel an indescribable satisfaction. — After all these years, husband, you’re finally getting a taste of your own medicine? Mom’s slap seemed to jolt my husband, who had traveled to this world with me, into awareness. He opened his eyes in confusion, glanced in my direction, and then shouted: “Have you all gone crazy!?” When Mom heard his words, she immediately flew into a rage: “What did you say? Say that again!” My husband didn’t respond. He didn’t even look at Mom, just stood up and walked straight towards me. Perhaps due to years of intimidation from my husband, I instinctively shrank back. Before he could take another step, Mom swung her palm towards his face again. Seeing this, my husband grabbed Mom’s arm and yelled: “You crazy old woman, are you trying to start a rebellion?” His words completely enraged Mom. She raised her foot, aiming to kick him in the stomach. I saw a slight smirk appear on my husband’s face as he looked at Mom with disdain. As a boxing instructor, he clearly thought Mom’s strength was no match for his. He didn’t try to dodge at all, letting Mom’s foot connect with his stomach. !!! What happened next shocked me once again. My husband flew backwards like a cannonball, his head slamming hard against the corner of a table behind him. In this reversed world, women were much stronger than men physically. Despite my husband’s tall and muscular build, he was easily overpowered. In our original world, my husband had often beaten me. Just as I was feeling tempted to try it myself, Mom grabbed my husband’s collar and slapped him hard across the face: “Useless waste! Can’t have children, can’t earn money, all you do is eat and take up space!” My husband glared at Mom, his eyes blazing red. He had never suffered such humiliation before, especially not at the hands of my mother. He tried to fight back, but to his shock, he had absolutely no strength to resist Mom’s grip. He could only lie there! 02 At that moment, the door suddenly opened and our neighbor Mrs. Johnson walked in. Seeing Mom disciplining my husband, Mrs. Johnson’s face broke into a meaningful smile. She said: “I’ve been telling you that you need to properly discipline your man. He’s been up to no good all day long. But you never listened!” My husband looked at Mrs. Johnson in shock. Before he could say anything, Mom slapped him across the face again: “What are you looking at! You good-for-nothing!” If looks could kill, my husband would have murdered Mom a thousand times over by now. He glared at Mom furiously, gritting out: “Just you wait. I’ll kill you for this!” “Oh ho! Thinking of rebelling, are we?” Before Mom could react, I rushed over to my husband’s side. I sized him up mockingly, grabbed a fistful of his hair with one hand, and used the other to slap him across the face five times in quick succession. I felt no guilt whatsoever about beating my now powerless husband. In fact, deep inside, I felt a twinge of vengeful satisfaction. Because this is exactly how my husband had beaten me over the past few years of our marriage. I had expected my husband to threaten me with some harsh words after being beaten, but to my surprise, he started vomiting! And he couldn’t stop. Looking at the mess on the floor, I felt my own stomach churning. Mom, who had been on the verge of exploding with anger, now looked at my husband with a puzzled expression. She gave me a meaningful look and asked: “Is your husband pregnant?” “Pregnant?” That was such a familiar word. After all, I had carried a child for ten months before giving birth to our daughter. But now this word was being applied to my husband. It felt rather novel. I looked at Mom tentatively and asked: “He’s pregnant?” Mom rolled her eyes at me, then tapped my head saying: “How can you not know if your own husband is pregnant?” I rubbed my head pitifully. Before I could speak, Mrs. Johnson chimed in: “Well, it’s Jane’s first time marrying a man, so it’s normal she doesn’t have experience. “Next time, if this one doesn’t work out, she can divorce him and marry again. Then she’ll have experience.” This reversed world was amazing! Before I could calm my excited heart, Mom urged me: “What are you standing there for? Take your husband to the hospital for a check-up. He’s been eating our food for so many years, it’s about time he gave us a daughter!” After finishing, Mom smiled at Mrs. Johnson and said: “When you have time, help find Jane a good man!” Mrs. Johnson nodded with a smile and promised to do so. 03 After seeing Mrs. Johnson and Mom off, only my husband and I were left in the room. I looked at my husband teasingly and asked: “Feeling angry?” My husband had just caught his breath. He looked at me with gritted teeth and said: “Jane Carter, just you wait! I’ll fucking kill you one of these days!” My husband had traveled with me to this reversed world, and he was experiencing such a huge change. He definitely needed some time to adjust. So hearing his words, I didn’t get angry. Instead, I looked at him with a smile and said: “Come on, let’s go to the hospital for a check-up. Let’s see if you’re really pregnant. “Tsk tsk, a pregnant man! Just thinking about it is exciting!” Hearing my mockery, my husband didn’t respond. He just sat on the ground, not moving. Seeing this, I grabbed his legs and started dragging him out. My husband shouted loudly: “Jane Carter, let go of me! Jane Carter, I’m not going, do you hear me?” I acted as if I couldn’t hear my husband’s shouts, forcibly stuffing him into the car and tying his hands and feet with the seatbelt. After finishing, I dusted off my hands easily. I hadn’t expected that I would be able to lift my 200-pound husband so effortlessly. I grinned, feeling more and more fond of this world. Under my coercion, my husband “willingly” underwent an ultrasound and urine test. The doctor told me that my husband was indeed pregnant. My husband, who had just arrived in this world, couldn’t accept the fact that he was pregnant. He grabbed the doctor’s hands urgently, saying: “Doctor, you must be mistaken. I’m not from this world, how could I possibly be pregnant?” The doctor was a woman. She pulled her hands away from my husband’s grip and looked at me with disgust, saying: “Control your man. How can he be so ill-mannered? Haven’t you trained him properly yet?” “You bitch! What the fuck did you just say? Say it again if you dare!” As soon as the doctor finished speaking, my husband exploded. Seeing him roll up his sleeves, it looked like he was ready to hit the female doctor at the slightest provocation. The doctor frowned slightly, her fingers cracking as she clenched them. Before the doctor could react, I grabbed my husband and gave him a slap across the face, then covered his mouth. “I’m so sorry, doctor. This is probably his first pregnancy, so he’s not quite right in the head. Please don’t take offense. I’m really sorry, truly sorry.” Saying this, I quickly dragged my husband out of the examination room. On the way home, my husband sat in the back seat, constantly yelling at me: “Jane Carter, tell me how to get back to our original world right now!” I didn’t respond to him, but I was secretly delighted. Want to go back? No way! I finally managed to bring you here to experience the life I once lived. How could I possibly let you go back so easily? Seeing that I wasn’t saying anything, my husband kept rambling: “Jane Carter, you better take me to get rid of this baby right now. If you don’t take me to abort this baby, I’ll kill you first, and then I’ll kill this little bastard!” Hearing this, I felt anger rising in my heart. In our original world, my husband would often threaten to kill me. Now that he was in my hands, he was still so arrogant. Wasn’t he just asking for trouble? I pulled over to the side of the road, opened the car door, and dragged my husband out. My husband, not understanding what was happening, thought I was going to let him go. He shouted at me urgently: “You fucking better take me to abort this baby and let me go back, otherwise…” Before he could finish, I slapped him across the face, interrupting his words. I grabbed his hair with one hand and kept slapping his face with the other. As I hit him, I cursed, mimicking his usual words: “You motherfucker! How dare you be so ungrateful! You ungrateful piece of shit! You son of a bitch…” The more I hit, the better it felt. The more I cursed, the more satisfying it was! After about fifteen slaps, I finally stopped. Looking at his slightly swollen cheek, I felt no remorse whatsoever. I just wanted to beat some sense into him! To let him know how utterly despicable his actions towards me in our original world had been! “Fendi! What do you mean by ‘let you go back’? I don’t understand any of this nonsense you’re spouting. Don’t think that just because you’re pregnant, you can act crazy whenever you want, understand? Otherwise, I’ll fucking kill you!” Saying this, I patted his swollen cheek. I noticed that when my palm touched his cheek, his body visibly trembled. Had my husband become afraid of me, just like I used to be afraid of him? This thought couldn’t help but cross my mind. So he was capable of feeling fear too… 04 Back home, I couldn’t wait to share the news of my husband’s pregnancy with Mom. But after looking around, I found that Mom wasn’t home. Instead, I discovered a pile of dirty clothes in the corner of the bedroom.

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That night, when my parents were kidnapped, my older brother, Allen Baldwin, a police officer, wanted to go bungee jumping with my parents’ adopted daughter, Elaine Baldwin. I didn’t stop him. I made the call to the police without hesitation and began preparing the ransom. In my previous life, Allen had stayed behind to try and save my parents instead of going with Elaine. But while Elaine was bungee jumping, the cord snapped, and she fell off the cliff. They never found her body. Allen didn’t say a word after that. On my birthday that year, he drugged me and took me to the edge of that very same cliff. “It was you who planned this kidnapping. You went this far just to fight for attention, right? You’re a demon! “Elaine is dead. You should die, too!” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my parents were kidnapped. This time, Allen didn’t rush to rescue them. Instead, he went straight to Elaine. But later, he regretted it so much that it nearly drove him insane. I suddenly jerked awake, beads of sweat dotting my forehead. My heart was pounding in my chest as if it was going to burst out. The feeling of weightlessness and terror hadn’t faded. However, I soon realized that I was in my bedroom. I glanced at the date on my phone and realized that I had come back to the day my parents were kidnapped. I knew that in five minutes, the kidnappers would call and demand me to prepare the ransom in one hour, or they would kill my parents. As the daughter of the Baldwin family, I was lost for eighteen years and have recently been reunited with them. I had only been back with my parents for less than a year, and they meant everything to me. I couldn’t let the tragedy from my previous life happen again. I rushed downstairs and stood by the phone. Allen, in his casual pants, followed closely behind me. “Vickie, why are you so nervous? Mom and Dad aren’t even here. Didn’t you kidnap them?” Allen gave a mocking smile. At that moment, I was certain he had also come from the future. His expression seemed to say, “Don’t waste your effort. It’s all pointless. Without my cooperation, this charade our parents and you are playing wouldn’t last long.” In my previous life, Allen had believed I had masterminded the kidnapping to gain my parents’ favor and attention. I still didn’t know where he had gotten such a ridiculous conclusion. This time, Allen chose to ignore my “trap” entirely. “Vickie, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Allen said with a shrug. “Inciting a crime is still a crime. If you get caught, don’t come crying to me to help you.” I wanted to say something, but just then, the phone rang, cutting me off. Each ring sent a shiver to my heart. Yet, Allen acted as though he hadn’t heard it. As he was about to leave, a look of disdain flashed across his face. “Do what you want. I’m going to go bungee jump with Elaine. “I know they won’t actually get hurt. Don’t disturb me if there’s no real problem.” In my previous life, he hadn’t said that. Back then, Allen had used his years of detective experience to track down the kidnappers’ hideout quickly. In less than an hour, he rescued our parents. That day, my mind was so occupied with my terrified parents that I didn’t notice the suspicion and anger simmering in Allen’s eyes. It was only later, when he brought me to the cliffside, that I learned what he was thinking. While Allen was rescuing our parents, Elaine had called him repeatedly. When he didn’t answer, she went bungee jumping alone and had an accident. The phone ringing now felt like a death sentence, tightening the knot of anxiety in my chest. I picked up the receiver, and the kidnappers’ voice came through clearly. “You should prepare twenty million dollars. Have the money ready in two hours, or your parents are dead.” I froze, wide-eyed in terror. I thought, “What? Wasn’t it only ten million dollars last time?”

I gripped the phone tightly, my palm drenched in sweat. It seemed that the reality at this time was different from the last, and the kidnappers’ location might have changed as well. I had been so confident before, but now panic was starting to creep in. With a tremor in my voice, I pleaded. “Can you give us more time? Please, I…” Before I could finish, the line went dead. I quickly gathered my composure. I knew it was useless to these desperate criminals. The priority was to prepare the ransom and locate the kidnappers. I quickly scribbled down everything I knew from my previous life. There were two kidnappers, both young men, and the kidnapping took place at one of their homes. The ransom was ten million dollars, and they asked us to place it in the third trash can at the south entrance of the train station. Before they could collect the money, Allen had tracked down their hideout and rescued our parents, saving both our parents and the ransom. With that in mind, I grabbed my phone and dialed 911. I also called my father’s good friend, Dominik Happer, one of the company’s shareholders, and asked him to get cash directly from the finance department. Dominik was just as frantic as I was on the phone. “Call the police, Vickie. I’ll handle the money.” His words made my heart settle a little. Two minutes later, police officers arrived. Allen’s colleague and close friend, Cason Rayne, walked in with a scowl. “Vickie, Allen just called me. Luckily, I was nearby… “Filing a false report is a crime!” All my courage and hope crumbled in that instant. Allen had already decided that I was the mastermind behind the kidnapping, so he’d sent his friend to stop my “nonsense.” I didn’t expect he would do something like that. I didn’t think I could solve it without the help from the police and detective expertise. My emotions got the best of me, and I squeezed the paper with the clues into a ball. The thought of my parents being tortured by the kidnappers pushed me over the edge, and I broke down crying. “Cason, I’m not lying! I’m an adult. I’m taking responsibility for my words. “Please, I need the police’s help. Please help save my parents!” I sobbed, gasping for air, glancing constantly at the clock. Almost ten minutes had passed, and there wasn’t much time left. Cason leaned casually against the couch, scrolling through his phone. My tears failed to elicit any sympathy from him. “They say kids who grow up in orphanages are sly. Do you think crying will guilt-trip people into helping you? “Allen’s right. If you’re not raised here, you’re just an outsider. “Elaine is so much more mature than you…” Elaine’s fate differed from mine. She was adopted at eight and nurtured as if she were the apple of my parents’ eye. Allen pampered her. He treated her with almost obsessive care. Even when they were both adults, they often slept together. The ticking of the clock pulled me back to reality. I forced myself to steady my breathing, trying to calm the storm inside me. “Cason.” I called his name with a serious tone. “Since you’re here on duty, you have an obligation to solve my case…” Before I could finish, he interrupted with a mocking laugh. “You little brat, acting all high and mighty. “Do you think just because you’re back with the Baldwin family, you can control everything? You’re still an outsider here.” His words hit me like a block of ice. “Allen told me. Your parents don’t love you as much as you think. They often confuse your name with Elaine’s. “He said you’ve been scheming for attention. You made Elaine move out because of it.” Cason snickered, munching on a fruit platter as he belittled me. I knew he had totally believed those things. After all, those stories were coming from Allen. He kept maligning me like that in front of Cason. To them, I was nothing but a scheming woman, always trying to steal the spotlight. I stood before him again, my resolve firm. “What will it take for you to believe me? My parents are in grave danger right now. “Are you ready to bear the responsibility if we miss this crucial window to save them?” Cason faltered, his hand frozen mid-air. He stood up from the couch. “Well then, go ahead and report me. You’re just a spoiled girl who needs a lesson…” Before he could finish, two officers in uniform appeared at the door. “Is Vickie here? We’ve received a report and are here to handle the case.” My legs nearly gave way, and I almost collapsed onto the floor. My parents were finally going to be saved!

As soon as Cason saw the officers, he rushed over to shake their hands. “We’re colleagues,” he said, “I’m here to meet Allen’s sister.” That’s when I noticed Cason was in casual clothes. He turned and started heading for the door, seemingly intending to slip away. But the two officers immediately blocked his path. I quickly stepped forward to update them on the situation. “Officers! My parents have been kidnapped. I have a recording!” The recording I had made earlier was finally useful. The moment the kidnappers’ voices came through, Cason’s face turned pale in shock. “Allen clearly said they are actors… “He said you planned this whole thing yourself.” I snorted dismissively, not in the mood to waste words on him. I slowly unfolded the crumpled piece of paper in my hand. Drawing from the fragmented memories of my previous life, I tried to recall every detail. I quickly pieced things together in my mind and tried my best to come up with an excuse. “Officers! I can give you details about the suspects. They haunted my house once before. “I’m not completely sure, but their voices sounded similar… they asked me for directions before.” Soon, the sketch artist and the surveillance team were in place. I focused all my attention on describing the two kidnappers’ appearances. With a comparison to a database of known offenders, the police quickly identified them. Both were young men who had served time for robbery. One of them had rented a house under his real name, so the police immediately planned a rescue operation. I slumped onto the sofa. Cold sweat drenched my entire body. Twenty minutes later, the police officer accompanying me got a report. “Sorry, Ms. Baldwin, we didn’t find any trace of your parents at the scene. “But we did find this.” They had discovered numerous photos the kidnappers had taken. Among them were pictures of my parents and of me. “They’ve been watching you for a long time. Don’t worry, these two won’t escape.” I felt like my head was about to explode. The worst-case scenario had come to pass. The kidnappers had moved to a new hiding place, which meant the lead I had was now useless. Cason, standing off to the side, made a call to Allen. Although he lowered his voice, I could hear every word clearly. “It’s a real kidnapping. We have suspects. You need to come back…” To my surprise, Allen laughed on the other end of the line. It sounded almost like he was deliberately letting me hear. “Enough with the charade. How do you prepare to end this? “If Mom and Dad felt angry at you, don’t come crying to me.” The fear and resentment from my previous life rushed back in an instant. I felt even if he didn’t like me, he should at least believe his friend’s words. I wasn’t at fault, and neither were my parents. For over twenty years, they had raised him with love, but now, for the sake of their adopted daughter, he had ignored their safety. If my parents knew the truth, they’d be heartbroken. I felt sorry for my parents. As I wiped the tears from my eyes, the house phone suddenly rang. The officer in charge of surveillance gave me a look. My heart skipped a beat. The kidnappers were calling again!

The officer monitoring the call gave me an “OK” signal. I picked up the receiver, my whole body still trembling. The officer beside me handed me a small note. It read: [Delay time] I took a deep breath, trying to steady my voice, desperately holding back my tears. “I’m preparing the money now. Please don’t hurt my parents.” The kidnappers on the other end let out a contemptuous laugh. “Hurry it up! If it’s not done in an hour, I’ll make good on my threat!” An officer passed me another note. I read the note and asked, “Where should the money be delivered? How will you return my parents after I pay?” The kidnappers’ tone turned impatient. “Leave the money in the locker at the station. Don’t worry, once the money’s there, your parents will be back with you.” A sharp throb in my temple made my head spin. The drop-off point was different from the last time. I tried to keep talking, hoping the officers could trace the call. “How are my parents? Can I hear their voices?” The kidnapper cursed viciously, “You’re a lot of work.” And then I heard the desperate voices of my parents. “Vickie, we’re just glad we found you. We have no regrets in this life. “Don’t risk your life for us. You have to protect yourself. “I want you to know… we love you more than you think, and we want to make up to you. We just didn’t know how to express it…” My father’s frail voice came through. “Vickie, I’m sorry I lost you when you were two. If I ever get the chance, I’ll apologize to you in person…” I choked up, unable to say anything. I wanted to tell them that I didn’t need their apology. I just wanted them to be safe. I wanted to promise them that I would save them. The kidnapper cut off the conversation impatiently. I could hear him kicking someone, swearing under his breath. “Old fools, so damn sentimental! Rich people are so dramatic! “Get the money over here, or I can’t promise your parents will come home safe.” With that, he hung up. Everyone instinctively turned to look at me and then shook their heads. They hadn’t been able to trace the call. The kidnappers had used technology to block the signal. My anxiety and fear exploded all over again. My mind was a tangled mess. All I could do was to deliver the money. At least it would ensure my parents’ safety. I quickly called Dominik, who had promised to help with the cash. However, no matter how many times I called, the phone wouldn’t go through. After calling him a heaps of times, my phone finally rang. I picked it up and heard my brother Allen’s voice. He was laughing. “Have you had enough of the show? Time to wrap it up.” I instantly tensed. “What did you tell Dominik?” Allen’s voice was light and carefree. “Of course, I told him not to give you any money. Twenty million dollars is an immense amount of money. Do you really think you can get away with a measly trick? “I told him you’re just playing a cheap trick. You are trying to empty the family’s pockets as soon as you’re back. He won’t listen to you.” In that instant, every shred of hope I had shattered. I felt my hopes drain away like water, leaving me utterly devoid of any will to fight. I knew that without that two million, my parents had no chance of survival. I had read the case file from the last time. Those two kidnappers already had blood on their hands. They didn’t care about killing a few more people. If they didn’t get the money, they would really kill my parents. The phone rang again, and the kidnappers’ impatient voice pierced my heart like a knife. “If you don’t bring the money soon, I’ll kill them right now!”

I felt as if a pair of invisible hands were squeezing my heart, the pressure so suffocating I could barely breathe. Sweat poured down my forehead. The ticking of the clock echoed in my chest, each tick hammering against my heart. I picked up the phone, my voice trembling. “It’s not time yet. We’re still withdrawing money from several banks. “The amount you want is too much. We have to visit more banks,” I explained to the kidnapper. The kidnapper’s mocking laugh echoed through the line. “The Baldwin family has such a big fortune, and you can’t even gather this little cash?” I was so nervous that I could barely speak. In that fleeting moment, I suddenly heard the unmistakable sound of a train whistle in the background. The monitoring officers noticed it, too, and signaled me to delay. “Let me hear their voices again. I need to make sure they’re safe,” I said to the kidnapper. The kidnapper’s tone clearly hardened with anger. “Do you really think you’re some princess that everyone has to cater to you? “You have thirty minutes. If I don’t see the money, you won’t see your parents,” he threatened. The call was abruptly cut off, and the time limit was reduced to thirty minutes. I realized that there was no reason with these kidnappers. Around me, chaos erupted as the police worked frantically to contact the banks and secure the cash. I bit my lip hard, shutting my eyes, replaying the moment just before he hung up. I was certain of what I heard. In those last two seconds, there was a short but eerie sound of wind howling through the phone. I grabbed the officer beside me. “Play the recording again. Quick! The last few seconds!” Everyone was startled by my urgency, but they cooperated and played it again. Sure enough, they, too, heard that eerie, ghostly wind at the end of the call. I jumped to my feet. “I know where my parents are!” At first, the officers didn’t believe me easily. But after I presented the detailed evidence, they immediately assembled a team to head to the location.

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While I was unboxing the packages I had ordered during Black Friday, I stumbled across something unexpected—Conrad had bought a luxury gift for his college sweetheart. The boxes in front of me were filled with discounted household goods: cleaning supplies, toiletries, and other mundane necessities. It hit me like a ton of bricks—my husband wasn’t clueless about romance, nor was he strapped for cash. He had the ability to pick out an expensive designer handbag worth half a month’s living expenses for me and our child. The handbag, nestled in a box of red roses, exuded a regal charm, while my thrifted canvas tote lay dirty and forgotten on the floor, a glaring contrast between royalty and rags. As I stared at the scene, lost in thought, Conrad walked in. His gaze landed on the mountain of delivery boxes, and his face darkened. With one swift kick, he sent them tumbling to the floor. “All you know is how to spend money! Is there anything else you’re good at?” he snarled. I stumbled back and fell awkwardly to the ground, staring up at the man who stood over me, yelling and pointing at my face. My vision blurred. Was this my life? Was I only ever meant to be the woman clutching a thrift store tote? Content

“Let’s get a divorce.” I struggled to push myself off the floor. Though Conrad’s kick hadn’t landed directly on me, the impact left me with a twinge in my lower back—a lingering pain from years of standing by him through thick and thin. Conrad looked down at me coldly, his eyes brimming with disdain. When he heard the word “divorce,” his lips curled into a mocking sneer. “You want a divorce over some kicked boxes?” I steadied myself, brushed off my clothes, and nodded firmly. “Yes. I want a divorce.” Perhaps it was my unprecedented determination, but the smirk disappeared from Conrad’s face. His tone softened, almost conciliatory. “Don’t be dramatic. We’ve been married five years, we have a five-year-old son. You want a divorce over something so trivial? What will people say?” It was precisely those five years of marriage that made me realize how much I’d endured. Time and again, I had swallowed my grievances for the sake of our family. My mom and Mrs. Mildred Whittaker often advised me to be patient, to understand how hard Conrad worked to provide for us. I treated their advice as gospel. Today, I realized it had only led to my unhappiness. “So what if people talk?” I shot back. “What they say doesn’t matter. But, Conrad, do you even see what’s in these boxes? Is there a single thing you bought for me?” Hearing that, Conrad glanced at the scattered packages. Men’s underwear, orthopedic supports, a foot spa for his mom—everything I bought had been for the family. Not a single item for myself, not even socks. He looked slightly embarrassed and reached out to steady me, but I brushed him off. After a few attempts to pacify me, his patience wore thin. “Fine. I was wrong to yell at you, but I’ve got reasons. Work has been a nightmare. I’ve got my boss breathing down my neck, endless overtime. Can’t you cut me some slack?” “If everyone divorced over small things like this, my parents would’ve split up a hundred times by now!” I remained unmoved. “Your parents are your parents. We’re not them. Yes, work is tough, but is being home, taking care of Landon, your mother, and this household any easier for me?” My voice wavered, and I fought back tears. But Conrad didn’t care. His face grew impatient, even annoyed. “You have no idea how hard it is to make money. I’d like to see how you’ll survive after a divorce.” With that, he stormed into the bedroom and emerged with a box filled with receipts and bills—water bills, HOA fees, school tuition, mortgage payments. “Look at this,” he declared, dumping the contents onto the floor like falling snow. “This is everything I’ve paid for. Do you see how much you’ve spent over the years? And now you want to leave me?” I stared at the pile of receipts with a calm that seemed to unnerve him. “Did I have our child alone? Did you not need a place to live and water to drink before we got married?” Conrad switched to his usual tactic—playing the victim. “You’re the one who wants a divorce, so we need to settle accounts. Or are you just some freeloader, using me for a free ride?” Anger surged through me. My hands trembled as I pulled the luxury handbag out from under a pile of delivery boxes and tossed it at him. “What about this? Is that in your ledger?”

The sight of the handbag drained the color from Conrad’s face. He snatched the box from me, carefully dusting it off as if the bag were a sacred relic. “Who gave you permission to touch this? Is it yours?” he barked. I let out a cold laugh. “You’ve admitted it’s not mine. You bought this ridiculously expensive handbag for someone else, not your wife. Aren’t you afraid of people laughing at you, Conrad?” His face alternated between red and white, his emotions shifting until anger finally took over. He pointed at me, yelling, “I can give it to anyone I want—anyone but you! Look at yourself. You don’t even bother to make yourself presentable. You make me sick.” Smack! My hand flew across his face. Instead of reflecting on his betrayal, he blamed me for everything. “Don’t know how to dress up? Really?” I scoffed. “It’s easy to spend money when you have it. But, Conrad, do you even give me enough to buy the scraps left over from that bag?” He rubbed his cheek where my slap had landed, anger flashing in his eyes. He lunged at me, hand outstretched to grab my hair, but the door creaked open before he could reach me. Landon stood in the doorway, frowning as his eyes darted between the mess in the room. “Dad, Mom, what’s going on here?”

When Landon walked in, Conrad immediately dropped his raised hand. He let out a derisive snort, turned on his heel, and slammed the bedroom door behind him with a loud bang. I sank to the floor, feeling utterly drained. My heart pounded in my chest, my mind spinning in fear and helplessness. Landon wandered over, glanced at the scattered delivery boxes, and muttered in an annoyed tone, “Mom, what are you throwing a fit about now?” As my heart rate began to slow, his words hit me like a hammer. I nearly lost my balance trying to stand up. Looking at him, I suddenly realized how much Landon resembled his father. “Who taught you to speak to me like that?” I asked sharply. Seeing my stern expression, Landon quickly shifted gears. He came over to steady me, guiding me to the couch and even bringing me a glass of water like a little adult. “Dad might have a bad temper,” he said as he handed me the glass, “but it’s because he’s so busy with work.” “Think about it—everything you bought with those packages came from Dad’s money, right? You two have been married forever, so why are you always fighting?” “And when you argue, everyone in the neighborhood hears. Do you know how embarrassing that is for me? The other kids will laugh at me!” I gripped the glass of water tightly, but my heart grew colder than the liquid inside. He was only five, yet he already spoke with such conviction, completely siding with his father. How much of this was his grandmother’s influence? I didn’t dare think about it too much. Placing the glass on the table, I walked straight into the bathroom without a word.

When Mrs. Mildred Whittaker returned, the kitchen was cold, the living room was a mess, and Landon was still in his jacket, playing with the dirty delivery boxes on the floor. She was furious. Storming into the bedroom, she yelled, “What are you doing in there?! No dinner, no care for your kid—is this how you plan to live?” But when she opened the door and saw Conrad lying on the bed scrolling through his phone, her demeanor changed instantly. “Oh, it’s you, son. Where’s Emily?” Mildred was always a sweet, doting mother in front of Conrad and a loving grandmother to Landon. But to me? She called me by my first name as if I were the hired help bound by some unspoken contract. Conrad shrugged. “She’s in the bathroom. I kicked over her delivery boxes, and now she’s talking about divorce.” Mildred’s face twisted with alarm. She marched toward the bathroom, ready to drag me out for a scolding. But before she could knock, Landon called out, “Grandma, I’m hungry.” At the sound of her precious grandson’s voice, Mildred’s anger vanished. She shuffled over to Landon, her wrinkled face breaking into a smile. “Grandma will make you something right away, sweetheart.” As she passed the bathroom, she couldn’t resist shouting through the door, “As if anyone cares for your cooking! You’re fighting over nothing, and it’s absolutely ridiculous. I’ve never seen such a petty wife in my life!” Inside, I paid no attention to her. My phone screen displayed pages of lawyer reviews and job listings. Half an hour later, I stepped out of the bathroom to find the family sitting around the dining table, their plates filled with unrecognizable dishes. Clearly, this was Mildred’s attempt at cooking. Her skills hadn’t improved since I married into the family. In fact, they’d gotten worse now that she assumed I’d always take care of everything. Landon, who was used to my carefully prepared meals, looked at the clumps of burnt food on his plate and scrunched up his nose in disgust. “I don’t want this! I want good food!” Mildred’s smile faltered. She picked up a forkful of food and tried to coax him. “This is good food, sweetheart. Grandma made it for you.” But Landon wouldn’t budge. He clutched his plate and moved away, his face lighting up when he saw me. He ran over and clung to my leg. “Mommy, Mommy, I’m hungry.” I smiled faintly and, for the first time, refused him. “Mommy has to go out. I won’t be cooking tonight.” “Are you serious?” Conrad shot up from his seat, glaring at me. “All this over a couple of boxes? Trying to starve everyone?” He turned to Landon, scooping him up. “Don’t bother with her. Dad’s taking you to Chick-fil-A.” I watched Landon cheer as he clung to Conrad’s neck. Mildred and Conrad both glared at me. Ignoring them, I checked my phone. A single unread message popped up: “I’m nearby. Do you need a ride?”

Marcy Caldwell brought me straight to Haven Dance Studio. After showing me around the space, she led me to the lounge downstairs, where she handed me a cup of coffee. “Emily, let’s be honest,” Marcy began. “We need a good dance instructor, and I know you’ve got the skills. But right now… your image isn’t quite there. Here’s what I can do. I’ll start you on a basic salary for two months. Once you’ve proven yourself, I’ll make sure you get top pay.” Taking a deep breath, I nodded. Five thousand dollars wasn’t much, but it was the best I could find at the moment. “One more thing,” I said hesitantly. When I returned home, the living room was eerily quiet. The boxes still lay scattered, untouched. I stepped over the mess and made myself dinner in the kitchen. That night marked a turning point. I no longer cooked for the family, no matter if they made their own meals or ordered takeout. I only prepared food for myself, Landon included. Conrad continued his routine of leaving early and returning late. Mildred, left to care for Landon, soon began to crack under the pressure. After a few days, she exploded, demanding that Conrad handle the morning school drop-offs and evening pick-ups. “Mom, how can I? If I take him to school, I’ll be late for work. And after work, where’s he supposed to wait for me?” Conrad snapped. For the first time in five years, he and Mildred clashed. I sat in the living room, deaf to their shouting match. The laundry had piled up in the bathroom, untouched. Late at night, Conrad crouched by the bathroom door, looking lost. When I walked by, he called out softly, “Emily, I don’t have any clean clothes left.” When I stopped, he launched into a pitiful tirade. “I can’t do this anymore. Three takeout meals a day—it’s disgusting. I can’t sleep without you beside me. I messed up, I know. Please, just give me another chance.” I turned to him, my voice firm and resolute. “I’ve already spoken to a lawyer and prepared the divorce papers. Just sign them.”

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