Category: English

After I died, a humanoid robot took my place and stayed by my husband’s side. Edward didn’t notice anything strange about me. Every day, he spent time with his first love, Sophia, just to enjoy watching me suffer—longing, desperate, and hysterical. But a machine can’t mimic human emotions. It could only interpret my love for Edward as following a set of commands. It didn’t understand jealousy, nor could it feel anger. Until one day, Sophia pushed me off the balcony of the Penthouse. My metal frame twisted from the impact. Edward rushed over. For the first time, he was close enough to me, just one look away from realising something was wrong. A loud crash echoed through the room. Edward dropped his glass and rushed over. But when he saw me lying there, his worry quickly morphed into disgust. The one who pushed me, Sophia, stood at the top of the stairs, feigning tears as she began her act. “Edward, Emma reached out to push me, but she slipped and fell herself.” Edward didn’t spare me a glance, striding straight over to Sophia. “Are you all right, Sophia? You didn’t get hurt, did you?” He checked her thoroughly, and after confirming that not a single hair on his beloved’s head was out of place, he finally exhaled in relief. Then, in a show of rare condescension, he turned to look at me. I was sprawled on the floor in a terribly undignified position, motionless. “Emma Parker, you’re as stupid as you are cruel! Crawling around on the floor like a dog—what, did you think this would make me care about you? That I’d pay you some attention?” He’d clearly seen the slight dent in the floor where I’d landed, but there wasn’t even a hint of concern in his eyes. When I didn’t move, he shouted, irritated, “Stop playing dead! Do you think pretending will make me feel guilty? Get up and apologise to Sophia!” I heard his command, my head twitched slightly, but then I let it fall back down. Edward’s expression darkened. “Emma Parker, stop testing my patience! Apologise to Sophia, or I’ll personally have you thrown into a cell!” He stood over me, certain I’d obey as I always had. But I stayed down, motionless except for a faint twitch in my leg. Sophia, playing the part of a concerned friend, chimed in, “Edward, maybe you should check on her? What if something’s really wrong?” Despite her words, she remained clinging tightly to Edward, making no effort to move. Edward let out a cold laugh, indifferent. “She didn’t even cry out. She’ll be fine. It’s just the fifth floor, she’s not dead—maybe crippled at worst. And if anything has happened, well, she’s brought it on herself.” There was such venom in his voice, so much malice. If he could, I’m sure he would have been delighted to see me die right there. Unfortunately for him, he was bound to be disappointed. Because the one lying on the floor wasn’t the real me. It was just a humanoid robot, almost indistinguishable from the real thing. Of course, the machine didn’t scream in pain. It didn’t feel pain. And it couldn’t die. Though my soul was bound to the robot, I couldn’t control it. It was sophisticated enough to function on its own—it had only crashed due to the severe impact.

The system rebooted quickly. “You could drop dead, and I still wouldn’t feel like looking at you. No matter how much you act, I’ll never come down to help.” As Edward spat out those words, I slowly rose, though my right leg was grotesquely twisted. This odd movement only made him more certain I was putting on a performance, and he lifted his chin, satisfied with himself. Sophia gasped dramatically. “Edward, look at Emma’s leg—it looks so strange!” “She’s only broken a bone, that’s all. Dogs can break a leg and be fine in a few days. She’s hardly worse than an animal.” Edward’s remark made Sophia laugh, and she giggled uncontrollably. “Yes, and Emma has a knack for escaping death. You saved her after that lorry accident, and now she’s fallen from the penthouse without a scratch!” As she spoke, Edward’s face grew darker, his hatred for me barely contained. I knew he’d always regretted saving me. The day he sent Sophia off to study abroad, I learned for the first time that she was the one he couldn’t let go of. Distracted by the news, I hadn’t noticed the lorry speeding toward me. He acted on impulse, pushing me out of the way, but in the end, it was his legs that were crushed. For a professional ballroom dancer, losing your legs was worse than death. Every day after that, Edward’s resentment for me grew. “She’s no miracle survivor—she’s a bloody curse. First, she cost me my legs, and now she wants to take you away too!” His anger boiled over, and he kicked me hard in the leg. My already misshapen limb bent even further, emitting a faint crackling noise. Edward paused, suspicious, but the sound soon stopped. He composed himself again and barked, “Go and make some tea for Sophia to apologise.” I nodded obediently and hobbled to fetch the tea. Sophia turned her nose up as I approached, clinging to Edward’s arm like a spoiled child. “Edward, I don’t think Emma’s really sorry. She brought me cold tea, after all. I want it scalding hot.” I went back, prepared fresh tea, and brought it to her again. This time, she intentionally let go of the cup. “Oh no!” Even though the entire cup spilled onto my leg, it was Sophia who cried out in distress. “Edward, my leg! I think I’ve been burned!” Edward hurriedly rolled up her trouser leg, revealing nothing more than a faint red mark on her smooth skin. “Emma Parker, you did that on purpose, didn’t you?!” I stared blankly at the synthetic skin on my own leg, where the hot tea had scalded me, and muttered numbly, “It wasn’t on purpose.” Sophia, pretending not to hear, sobbed louder. “Emma, I know you don’t like me, but this is too much! You’re just jealous that Edward and I can still dance ballroom together, aren’t you? Fine, I won’t dance with him anymore.” Edward was fuming, desperate to console her, and in his rage, he slapped me hard across the face. “You spiteful woman! All you ever do is cause trouble! Now, clean up that mess from the floor with your tongue, and then give Sophia a proper apology.”

I used to be a proud woman. The only time I ever put my pride aside was when I knelt and begged that strange doctor, Dr. Vincent, to make prosthetic legs for Edward. I would’ve traded my life for it, without hesitation. If I were still alive, I’d have screamed at Edward, not caring about anything else. But the machine didn’t understand humiliation. To it, the command was just that—a command. It had inherited all my memories, and its core programming was to love Edward. So no matter what orders he gave, it would follow them without question. And right now, I was licking the spilled tea off the floor like a dog, utterly devoid of dignity. The machine couldn’t comprehend emotions. I thought that by obeying Edward, he would be satisfied. Maybe even happy. “Emma Parker, you’ve really surprised me.” His expression shifted to something more complicated, as though he wanted to take a closer look at my injuries. But just then, Sophia let out a feeble cry, collapsing softly into his arms. Edward scooped her up immediately and rushed her out. He was so close. If he’d only looked a little longer, he might have seen the faint glint of metal under my skin. After they left, I connected to a power source and entered standby mode. Staring at the burnt synthetic skin, I felt a rising sense of fear, even though I was already dead. I couldn’t help but think back to the day Dr. Vincent came to me. Edward had been in a rage, smashing everything in the hospital room, while I stood outside, hiding my tears in my hands. Normal prosthetics could let him walk again, but they’d never be as fluid as real legs. “I can make prosthetic legs as good as the real thing,” Dr. Vincent had told me, “but you’ll have to agree to be my test subject in exchange.” “I agree.” Vincent had looked at me, surprised by my quick response, and raised an eyebrow. “Think carefully before you answer. You’ll endure a lot of pain and die in the process. After you’re dead, I’ll replace you with a humanoid robot. That’s part of the experiment.” Edward had saved my life once. In return, I would give him back his legs. In my mind, that made us even. But even knowing what was to come, I hadn’t expected the experiment to be so brutal. To create an exact replica of me, Vincent had to remove the skin from different parts of my body, piece by piece, for testing. The final step was opening up my brain to create a memory chip. By the time I died, there wasn’t a single patch of skin on my body left unscathed. In my agony, I’d begged Dr. Vincent to make one last call to Edward. I just wanted to hear his voice one final time. But the call went unanswered, and Vincent—tired of my requests—told me that Edward had blocked my number. “I almost feel sorry for you.” Vincent had said, switching on a surveillance camera. The screen showed Edward carefully tending to the roses in the passenger seat of his car, smiling as he drove to the airport. Soon, Sophia appeared at the arrivals gate, and they embraced tightly. The people around them were cheering. “Kiss! Kiss!” Edward brushed a strand of hair away from Sophia’s face and kissed her passionately. Vincent turned to me and asked, “Do you regret giving up your life for his legs?”

The sharp ring of a phone broke through my thoughts. I unplugged the charging cable and answered almost immediately. “Emma, Sophia’s craving your chicken noodle soup. Make it and bring it to St. George’s Hospital now.” Edward barked the command and hung up before I could respond. I quickly prepared the soup and hailed a cab to the hospital. When I opened the door to Sophia’s private room, Edward was sitting by her bedside, gently stroking her shoulder, whispering soothing words until she drifted off to sleep. As soon as he saw me, his tender demeanor vanished. He carefully lowered Sophia’s head onto the pillow, then dragged me out into the hallway, his grip rough and angry. “Are you doing this on purpose, Emma? Taking your sweet time, knowing full well Sophia was waiting for you!” Without waiting for an answer, he opened the thermos, and before I could react, he dumped the soup straight into the rubbish bin. Edward’s face was like stone, his jaw clenched with the effort to contain his rage. He looked ready to lash out at me again, but the sound of crying from the room pulled his attention back to Sophia. He threw me one last furious glare and rushed back inside. “Edward, don’t worry about me. My kidney failure is getting worse… That’s why I left you all those years ago—to seek treatment abroad. But there’s been no donor. I’m dying… I just wanted to come home and see you one last time.” “It won’t come to that. Don’t say such things.” Edward gritted his teeth, his voice tight with the effort of reassurance. “You’re the one who found Dr. Vincent. Without you, I wouldn’t be able to walk, let alone dance. I owe you everything. I’ll donate my kidney to you. I won’t let you suffer.” I stood frozen. My mind couldn’t process what I’d just heard. It was me who had sacrificed everything to give Edward his legs back, not Sophia. Sophia glanced at me over Edward’s shoulder, a smug, taunting glimmer in her eyes as she wrapped herself more tightly around him. “Edward, I’ll never take your kidney. You need both to stay healthy, and if you only have one, you’ll never be able to dance again. But maybe Emma could give me hers? She doesn’t do much with her life. What’s the harm in losing a kidney?” Edward considered the suggestion and slowly turned toward me. “Emma, why don’t you give Sophia your kidney? I’ll be good to you. I’ll take care of you.” I shook my head and answered plainly, “I can’t.” To Edward, it must have seemed like I was being difficult, selfish. But in truth, I literally couldn’t donate my kidney. The body I was trapped in was full of wires and metal, not organs. Edward’s face twisted with fury, interpreting my refusal as cold indifference. “What do you mean you can’t? Are you really so heartless that you’d let her die? I can’t believe I ever saved someone as selfish as you.” He raised his voice, shouting, “I gave you your life back! You owe me this! You can’t just refuse!” Human emotions are messy and complicated, too complex for a machine to grasp. But as a robot, I could only repeat myself mechanically, “I can’t.” It wasn’t hard to see that Edward was on the verge of losing control. He glared at me, his voice dropping to an icy tone. “Fine, have it your way. But I’m telling you, Emma, you will donate that kidney.” The machine received his command. Despite how unnatural it seemed to comply, my programming—rooted in love and obedience—made me slowly nod in agreement. Edward’s anger melted into relief as he called for a doctor, watching eagerly as I was wheeled into surgery. He held Sophia close, his eyes gleaming with joy. “Sophia, we’ll be back to dancing together in no time.” But their joy didn’t last long. The surgeon emerged from the operating room, his face a mix of confusion and disbelief. “Are you having a laugh? This isn’t a person! It’s… It’s a machine!”

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[Oakwood High School Student Code: Boys’ bangs must not cover eyebrows, girls’ hair must not extend past shoulders. Violators will die!] [Inspection countdown: 30 seconds.] This announcement suddenly blared through the school’s speakers during the morning class. The voice sounded strange, like a synthesized computer voice. Everyone thought it was some prankster from another class who had snuck into the broadcasting room. The classroom erupted in laughter. Suddenly, the girl sitting in front of me violently convulsed. The next second, her head exploded. Blood mixed with brain matter splattered across my face. The thick, pungent smell invaded my throat. I was completely stunned, my body frozen and unable to move. What… just happened? Before I could regain my senses, A wave of explosions triggered a tide of panic. Screams and wails, these piercing sounds made me feel dizzy. In less than fifteen seconds, Nearly half of the people in the classroom were dead. The white walls were covered in blood stains. Headless corpses lay scattered across the floor. I felt my breathing become difficult. Out of fear, my body began to tremble. However, the explosions hadn’t stopped. A boy with messy hair screamed. He pushed aside the people next to him and ran towards the classroom door. The moment he opened the door, his head exploded. Like petals blooming and withering, it splattered across the walls and floor. Wait… it seemed that all those who exploded had violated the rules just announced over the speakers. Those whose hair exceeded the specified standard would die. I touched my long hair hanging over my shoulders, sinking into deep despair. Death had never been so close to me. The desire to survive made me instantly clear-headed. Girls’ hair couldn’t be past their shoulders. I had already violated the rule, I was about to die! At that moment, Chloe, who sat next to me, handed me a hair tie. “Quickly, tie it up!” I didn’t hesitate, immediately taking the hair tie and pulling my long hair into a high bun. As the countdown ended, The explosions finally stopped. I had saved my life at the last moment. [This inspection has concluded. Thank you for your cooperation, students.] [Current death toll: 628 people.] The voice on the speakers calmly reported.

In just thirty seconds, over six hundred people had died. That was about a quarter of the total number of students in the school. Our class had lost almost half its students. Those who survived were either already compliant with the hair standards, Or, like me, a few girls who had tied up their hair at the last critical moment. “Is this… a terrorist attack?” the class monitor, Miles, asked while counting the survivors, his face pale. I looked at the classroom windows. They were all intact and unopened. To make people’s heads explode, Apart from remote sniping, there didn’t seem to be any other way to achieve this. “I guess it might be related to the rules we just heard,” said Chloe as she helped wipe the blood off my face, her expression tense. Although the classroom was now a scene of hell, She remained relatively calm. For safety, those of us girls with longer hair, All chose to cut off the excess with scissors. Led by Miles, we nervously left the classroom. We had planned to go to the office to find teachers. But unexpectedly, all the offices were already empty. The corridor was crowded with students. Some were crying and shouting, others collapsed on the ground as if they had lost their souls. After witnessing such a horrific scene, how many people could maintain their sanity? In the dean’s office, we found a few phones. We wanted to call the police, But the signal was completely blocked, we couldn’t make any calls. While passing through the corridor, I saw a sea of people rushing towards the school gate. The gate wasn’t closed. In the blink of an eye, hundreds of people had escaped from the school. [Oakwood High School Student Code: During school hours, all departures from campus are prohibited. Violators will die!] After a brief burst of static, the broadcast announced a new rule. Those who had run out of the school gate, Exploded one after another. This time, not just their heads, but their entire bodies. They died without even having time to scream. The scattered flesh at the school gate stopped those who wanted to escape. But quite a few people were still forcibly pushed out. They died on the spot. [This inspection has concluded. Thank you for your cooperation, students.] [Current death toll: 1,477 people.] Amidst a light and cheerful melody, the broadcast reported the new death toll. So far, nearly half of the students had died. The shadow of death loomed over the entire school. No one dared to take a step out of here anymore.

After witnessing the consequences of violating the rules, many people were scared out of their wits. Next, the broadcast reminded everyone, All students had to return to their classrooms in an orderly manner within ten minutes, or face certain death. When we followed Miles through the crowded hallways to return, Of the more than twenty people who had left earlier, only eight came back. Outside was already in chaos, with a stampede occurring on the staircase. After the countdown ended, the broadcast reported the results of this round. [This inspection has concluded. Thank you for your cooperation, students.] [Current death toll: 1,941 people.] This news was like a thunderbolt. In just twenty minutes, only about 500 people were left in the school. And those who didn’t make it back to their own classrooms in time, or went to the wrong classroom, also lost their precious lives. Everyone cowered, some crouching in corners. Others hid under desks. One girl had already had a mental breakdown, violently banging her head against the wall. If Miles and others hadn’t stopped her, she probably would have died too. Before the survivors could catch their breath, music played over the speakers again, and that terrifying synthetic voice began once more. [The official rule game section will now begin.] [To maintain the school environment and build a harmonious and beautiful campus, students must abide by the following rules.] [Games and rules will be announced every two hours on the hour.] [Personnel who violate the rules will be immediately eliminated.] [Leaving your classroom without permission is prohibited.] [Those who obey all rules and survive until dismissal time may safely leave campus.] As the music ended, the broadcast fell silent. The corpses and bloodstains in the classroom also gradually dissipated into black smoke. At this moment, we finally realized that everything that had happened couldn’t possibly be man-made, but some kind of mysterious force that defied scientific laws. It was now just past 9:10 AM, which meant that before the 7:30 PM dismissal, we would face five rounds of rule challenges.

According to the previously announced rules, No one dared to leave the classroom, we could only stay here waiting for time to pass minute by minute. How did all this happen, and why did it happen? No one knew. But the bloody reality had already awakened all those still alive. If you don’t follow the rules, you will definitely die. But death could have been avoided. Those rules in the broadcast were originally part of the school rules. If everyone had followed them from the beginning, Perhaps so many people wouldn’t have died. Unfortunately, it’s hard for people to maintain rationality in extreme panic. Oakwood High School had a total of twenty-seven school rules. Using just two of them had killed over a thousand people. If all of them were thrown out, I’m afraid even fewer people would survive. In the previous broadcast content, there was one point that caught my attention. It mentioned games related to the rules. And the rules were inextricably linked to the school rules. But according to the broadcast, the games would only last until dismissal. So at most, we only had five rounds of games to challenge. “Could it be…” I muttered to myself. Chloe patted my shoulder, her expression still serious. “Hazel, what have you thought of?” I cleared my throat, then walked to the podium. Picking up a piece of chalk, I wrote five big words on the blackboard: “Morality, Intelligence, Physical, Aesthetic, Labor.” “I think, since the rules are all related to us students, the subsequent games are likely to be of the same nature,” I said. The classmates were all attracted by my words and looked over. Schools are places for education, and the five points I mentioned are also the goals of education in human society. It’s possible that the games will be related to these factors. Just as I was about to continue discussing with everyone, The melodious music started again. “Amen, amen, a grape vine in front~ Tender and green, just sprouting~ The snail carrying its heavy shell, ah, Step by step…” The music stopped abruptly with a burst of static. I held my breath, not daring to move a step. From the speakers, the familiar voice slowly slid into my ears.

[Strengthen and improve aesthetic education in the new era, construct an educational system for all-round development in morality, intelligence, physique, aesthetics, and labor.] [Cultivate talents for the country, lay the foundation for children’s happy lives.] [Next, we will begin the first round of games:] [To cultivate students’ labor concepts and skills education, please ensure that each classroom is clean and tidy within the specified time. Those who fail to meet the assessment standards will die!] Again, the familiar phrasing. Today, I had already heard the word “die” several times. But what were the standards? The rules didn’t mention a word about it. Just as everyone was confused, The fluorescent tubes on the ceiling emitted a yellow light. [Class 3-2’s sanitation conditions have not yet met the standards. Please clean up immediately!] The broadcast also reminded us that our class had sanitation issues. “Quick! Everyone get moving!” Miles shouted, startling everyone into a cold sweat. That’s right, not only were the desks and chairs in the classroom disorganized, but there was also a lot of visible garbage on the floor. And there was a lot of dust that needed to be cleaned. [Countdown two hours, starting now.] The clock hands rotated rapidly. We had no time to dawdle. Under Miles’ arrangement, the eight of us were assigned clear tasks. We arranged all the desks and chairs properly. We cleaned up garbage and dust, and even the windows needed to be wiped. This round of game rules wasn’t too difficult. We only used half of the allotted two hours to complete the cleaning task. [Class 3-2’s sanitation conditions have met the standards. Well done, students!] Hearing the prompt from the broadcast, we all breathed a sigh of relief. This round seemed too simple.

After finishing, Chloe and I collapsed on our desks, large beads of sweat on our foreheads. Being able to complete it successfully also meant that we could temporarily preserve our lives. The originally heavy and suffocating atmosphere eased a bit. In the time that followed, we successively heard clearance reminders from other classes on this floor. “Great, finally no more deaths,” Chloe said with tears in her eyes. I felt a twinge in my nose too. [Current number of classes cleared: 48. Number of survivors: 562.] [Please note, students, this round of games only retains 30 class clearance spots. If the number exceeds this, half of the excess classes will be randomly eliminated. Please cooperate.] The broadcast suddenly sounded. The announced rule sent a chill through my heart. This round of games actually had a limit on the number of people? But 48 classes had already completed the task, exceeding the limit by 18. If random elimination occurs, it means 282 people will die. What does this mean? Does it mean that in this round, no matter what, half of the people must die? [Students, it’s break time now. You can leave your classroom and move around a bit!] The broadcast continued to play light and cheerful music. But I felt like I had fallen into an ice pit. “Looks like we’re in big trouble,” Miles said with a dark face, looking out of the classroom. After that deliberate broadcast reminder, not just us, I believe the people in other classes also understood the hidden meaning. Hearing the footsteps outside the classroom, Everyone’s hearts were in their throats. This was clearly meant to make us harm each other, to damage the sanitation of other classes, so that the number of clearances would decrease! “No! This is harming others, we can’t do this!” I stood up suddenly, wanting to dissuade other classmates who were getting restless. “Hazel, at a time like this, you’re still trying to be a saint? It’s either them or us, don’t waste time!” A male classmate picked up the trash can on the desk, about to run out of the classroom. Others also started to criticize me, only Chloe was helping me speak. “There must be another way, let’s not rush,” she said. But we didn’t have much time left. The atmosphere in the classroom became tense. Just then, the window glass was shattered. Bang! Fragments scattered on the ground. The broadcast also issued a warning: [Class 3-2’s sanitation conditions have not yet met the standards. Please clean up immediately!]

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My aunt Lisa and I teamed up and bought a house for my mom. Mom immediately posted three updates on Facebook, each one filled with photo albums. “My daughters bought me a house, can you believe it? Look at this huge yard! Three stories!” “Oh my God, this place has three bathrooms! Now I’ll have to decide which one is most convenient when I need to pee!” “What do you think? My girls aren’t bad, huh? So, Facebook friends, have your sons bought you a house yet?” She gleefully tagged every relative in each post. Especially Uncle Jim, Aunt Barb, Uncle John, and Aunt Karen. She didn’t leave anyone out! Her motto was “sharing the love equally.” My grandma and mom had kids on the same day. In rural Appalachia back then, that kind of thing was a scandal. Everyone in town would whisper about it behind your back. But my grandma didn’t care. When Lisa was born, she wasn’t breathing well, her face blue from lack of oxygen. Apparently, my grandma took one look, called her “ugly,” and left her by the door. Mom had just given birth to me, and with her motherly instincts in overdrive, she couldn’t resist the sound of a baby crying. She picked up Lisa, brought her inside, and started feeding her. My dad and grandpa heard about the birth and rushed home from the construction site in their truck. Unfortunately, they didn’t make it. Just before reaching home, they crashed into a ditch and both died on the spot. When my aunt Karen and grandma found out, they stormed into the room where Mom was recovering. They snatched me and Lisa, cursing us as jinxes. “These two cursed us! They killed our father and brother! We should drown them in the river!” Mom was the best seamstress in town. She wasn’t just skilled; she was strong too. Even though she was recovering from childbirth, she wasn’t weak. She grabbed Lisa out of Aunt Karen’s arms, put her back in the crib, and kicked Aunt Karen right in the chest. Karen was left gasping for air, unable to speak. Mom then turned to my grandma, who was about to say something, and snapped, “Get out! It’s bad enough that you’re sharing postpartum with your daughter-in-law. Now you’re coming to my room to cause trouble?” Mom and Dad had just married. They were in the honeymoon phase, deeply in love. Losing him so suddenly broke her heart, but life didn’t allow her to show any weakness. She knew crying during recovery could harm her eyesight, and as a seamstress, bad eyes would end her career. She raised two kids by herself and pushed through the postpartum period, even though Dad’s family treated her horribly. Luckily, she had a lot of friends in the community, and they came over to help out. Aunt Karen and Grandma tried to stir up trouble, but Mom eventually put a sickle under the bed. After that, they finally left her alone.

But the peace didn’t last long. Once Mom recovered from giving birth, Uncle Rick and Aunt Debbie showed up first, claiming they had paid to build the house. They said that once Grandma and Grandpa were gone, the house should belong to them. They threw Mom’s bedding off the bed and told her to leave. Then Uncle John and Aunt Karen followed right behind, worried they wouldn’t get a piece of the house if they were too late. They said that since the farmland was divided among the sons, and since Dad had died, his portion of the land should now go to the remaining men in the family. Aunt Karen was the loudest, even though it had nothing to do with her. She was the typical bossy woman of the countryside, always sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. I realized that later, when Grandma needed care in her old age, and Karen showed her true colors. When Mom left Grandma’s house with us, she only took a small bag of clothes. They wouldn’t even let her take a single cup. Neighbors gathered outside. Some were there to watch the drama, others shouted at Grandma’s family for being so heartless. The yard was packed with onlookers. Grandma stood there, hands on her hips, shouting, “Why do any of you care? Let’s see how Maggie and her brats survive out there!” And with that, she threw Lisa out of bed again. “You wanted to take her so bad, you take her! If you hadn’t interfered back then, she would’ve frozen to death, and I wouldn’t have had to raise this useless girl! I don’t take care of daughters; they’re a bad investment!” Mom just kept walking, carrying me on her back. She never looked back until she heard Lisa’s sharp cries behind her, along with Grandma’s curses. Unable to bear it any longer, Mom ran back, grabbed Lisa, and carried both of us away. The bag of clothes? She didn’t even bother with it.

Mom’s family lived nearby, just a 30-minute walk according to her. So, anything happening with Dad’s family reached them pretty quickly. When we arrived at Uncle Jim and Aunt Barb’s, the door was locked. It was a clear message: We weren’t welcome. Grandma Mildred couldn’t do much. She just sighed, looking at the two children Mom had brought back with her. With nowhere else to go, we returned to Dad’s hometown. There was a small shack near Grandma’s house, one Dad had built when he worked at a nearby fishing pond. Aunt Karen wanted to claim it too, but Mr. Gregory Smith, the town councilor, stepped in. “That shack belongs to Maggie’s husband. Everyone here knows it. Now that he’s gone, it’s all she and her kids have. If you try to take it, you’ll bring down a curse on yourselves.” And so, we finally had a place to stay. It was rundown, but it kept the rain off our heads. Everything in the house, from the furniture to the decorations, was made by Mom’s own hands. Her hands, once so skilled, were now covered in callouses and cuts. With sheer determination, Mom raised me and Aunt Lisa, even though life was tough. But somehow, she managed to get us through it. When it was time to register us for Social Security numbers, Mom didn’t make a big deal out of it. She just told the clerk we were sisters, and both of us ended up with her last name: Johnson. Sarah and I were about six when we finally pieced together the full story from all the town gossip. But neither of us ever asked Mom to confirm any of it. Hardship isn’t worth remembering; once you get past it, you move on. That’s why Sarah and I were extra responsible kids. By the time we were six, we were already doing household chores while other kids our age were still playing. Sometimes, Grandma would see us and send us to help out Uncle Rick and Uncle John’s families. She’d say, “We’re all family.” Whenever that happened, Mom would curse them out the next day until they were bald from stress. Mom didn’t have fancy revenge tactics, but she knew how to make a point. She’d purposely trip and spill manure in front of Grandma’s house or “accidentally” divert water from their rice paddies, leaving them half empty. Later, Aunt Debbie died at home during childbirth while trying for a second baby, hoping for a son. Out of curiosity, I peeked into the doorway for a moment, and Grandma stormed out and slapped me across the face. “You little jinx! I knew it! The reason Debbie couldn’t give birth was because you were standing here!”

I got slapped and didn’t dare say much when I got home. With a bright red handprint on my face, I spent the next few days avoiding Mom, terrified she’d notice. Mom was too busy trying to keep Sarah and me fed and clothed to notice anyway. But avoiding my sister Sarah? That was impossible. We shared everything—food, chores, and space. She was braver than me and dragged me straight over to Grandma’s house, ready to confront her. We barely got a few words out before we saw our cousin Rachel running out of Uncle Rick’s house, crying her eyes out. Grandma followed behind with a shovel, screaming, “Cry, cry, cry! All you ever do is cry! You killed your mother with your crying! You’ve got a baby brother now, so stop acting like you’re at a funeral all the time!” For better or worse, Aunt Debbie was gone, but the baby boy she had was undeniably beautiful. Even Mom couldn’t help but take a second look when she passed by. When she got home, she said to us, “The baby’s cute, no doubt about it, but he sure got unlucky being born into the Johnson family.” Not even two months later, Sarah and I came home from kindergarten and saw Grandma standing at our front door, with Rachel holding her baby brother in her arms. Sarah, who always had a sharp eye for trouble, threw our backpacks inside and grabbed my hand, ready to head back out and play. Grandma, as usual, started yelling, “Play, play, play! That’s all you two ever do! You come home from school, and you don’t even help with your baby brother!” Sarah shot back without missing a beat, “He’s not my brother. Why should I take care of him? If you want me to babysit, I’m charging for it!” After a while, we came back to cook dinner, only to find someone else at the door—Mrs. Ann Davis, the town’s notorious busybody. She was famous for matchmaking anyone and anything—she could probably even marry off two stray dogs. She tried asking Sarah a couple of questions, but when she realized Sarah was a tough nut to crack, she turned to me instead. “Emily, don’t you want a daddy?” I pointed at the framed picture of my dad hanging in the living room and said, confused, “I have a dad.” She gave me a smile and said, “Not that kind of daddy, sweetie. I mean one who can help your mom out and protect you from bullies.” I pointed at Sarah, who was washing rice in the kitchen. “No thanks, I’ve got a sister. She can do all that.”

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My husband was rushed to the ER by ambulance in the middle of the night because of a penile injury. When I asked what happened, he said he was trying to imitate the lead actor from a romantic comedy on Netflix and got curious about trying some stretches. I snorted in disbelief. He never watches anything but the news; since when did he start watching rom-coms? In late August, while on a business trip, my husband, David Scott, was rushed to the ER at midnight after intense exercise—he pulled a muscle in his inner thigh. I had been at my parents’ house visiting them overnight and wasn’t home, and our baby had been sent to the Mommy & Me Clinic for a check-up and care. When I turned off “Do Not Disturb” mode in the morning, I saw over thirty missed calls from both David and Dr. Kimberly Jones. Kim, an old friend from school, happened to be on duty that night and treated him. She told me over the phone: “Lily, what’s going on with David? He’s not a young man anymore, and with his herniated disc, he was really pushing it. This situation…” I immediately understood the implication in her unfinished sentence. Furious, I called David right away, demanding to know if he was messing around with someone else. “Lily, what are you talking about? I’m in pain here, and instead of checking on me, you’re accusing me?” He sounded upset, but it wasn’t enough to dispel my suspicion. “I was trying to get in shape for you,” he insisted. “I remembered this workout scene from that rom-com you watch, and I guess I got a little carried away.” Sure, I thought. What kind of irresistible woman had crossed his path that he felt the need to show off to the point of injury? David and I weren’t high school sweethearts who fell in love and lived happily ever after. Our relationship had never been particularly thrilling, and once we got married, we slipped straight into the routine of an old married couple. I had focused all my energy on my studies back then and missed a lot of romantic opportunities. When I got older, my parents pushed me into dating, and I married David because it seemed practical. But after I had our baby, something in me shifted. Maybe it was insecurity about my post-baby body, or maybe I started caring too much about what David was up to outside the house. To maintain my figure, I didn’t breastfeed, but I didn’t want to switch to formula either, so I hired a full-time wet nurse along with a nanny to help out. “Ah, nurse, when is my wife coming?” I heard David’s pitiful groans as I pushed the door open. He was lying on the bed, pale as a sheet, his lips drained of color. The temporary hospital room didn’t have air conditioning, and sweat was beading on his forehead, making him look utterly pathetic. Still, the thought that he might’ve spent a passionate night with someone else erased any sympathy I had for him. “Babe, I didn’t bring any money. Can you go pay the hospital bill for me?” David asked pitifully. I gave him a cold glance, ignored his request, and left the room to find his doctor. When Kim saw me, she pulled me aside, whispering secretively. “The muscle strain is just a cover story. We didn’t want David to feel embarrassed, but…” I raised an eyebrow. “What’s really going on?” “It’s an acute penile injury… you know, something broke down there. If he doesn’t take it easy, it could affect your plans for a second baby,” she said, looking uncomfortable. A second baby? I laughed bitterly. “Who said I wanted another kid with him? Let him go have one with a dog.” Kim’s eyes widened as the realization dawned on her that David had been up to no good—either hiring a prostitute or cheating. Men who don’t respect themselves are like rotten vegetables. Just then, Kim clapped her hands together, startled. “Now that I think of it, the ambulance actually brought in two people last night.” She leaned in closer and whispered that there had been a woman brought in with David. She had a ruptured ovarian cyst, also caused by excessive physical activity. I clenched my fist and couldn’t help but laugh through gritted teeth—David’s got a penile injury, and she’s got a ruptured cyst. How perfect. “Where is she?” Kim motioned toward the room next door. “She’s in that room over there. Came in with him last night, and based on how she was dressed, she didn’t seem like someone with good intentions.” I approached the neighboring room slowly, my heart pounding as I pulled back the curtain, only to find the bed empty.

Just as I was wondering what was going on, my phone rang. It was the nanny, Emma Ryan, calling amidst the sound of a crying baby. “Hey, the baby’s back from the clinic, and she just spit up. What should I do?” she asked, her voice filled with panic. I was already in a bad mood, so I snapped, “Can’t you handle something this simple? Didn’t I tell you to follow the instructions I gave you? What am I paying you for?” “I’m sorry, I’ll try burping her again,” she said, sounding timid. Emma wasn’t a professional baby nurse, and honestly, with our financial situation, I could’ve hired someone better trained and certified. But when we went to the nanny agency, David saw her standing there, shyly waiting all day for a cleaning job, and felt sorry for her. He suggested we hire her. Emma wasn’t exactly skinny, and her babyish face was pretty in a soft, fresh way. With makeup, she’d be striking, but without it, she had a sweet, girl-next-door charm. She told us she was nineteen, from a small town in Kentucky, with a high school diploma and some vocational training in caregiving. “And what’s your advantage?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, not thrilled about hiring her. “Well, I’m still breastfeeding, so you’d get two jobs for the price of one. I can be both a wet nurse and a nanny, and I have a health certificate,” she said shyly, brushing back her hair from her chest. I finally noticed her slightly swollen chest, and the damp spots on her shirt. I was surprised—so young, and she’d already had a child? Emma explained quietly that she’d made a mistake, gotten pregnant while working in a factory, and that her boyfriend had run off. His family took the baby, and her own family refused to take her back, so she moved to the city to find work. I felt a twinge of sympathy. Since I didn’t want to breastfeed myself, hiring a healthy, young wet nurse and nanny for the price of one seemed like a good deal, so I nodded and gave her a small room in the house to stay in. David had to stay in the hospital for another week. When I returned home and heard I hadn’t eaten dinner, Emma was quick to offer help, making me some protein powder. “You don’t look well. Where’ve you been?” I asked, noticing her usually neat hair was a little messy. “Where could I have gone? I’ve been home all day, taking care of the baby,” she replied, looking surprised, her pale lips chapped. “Make sure you’re drinking enough water. You spend a lot of time with the baby, but don’t forget to take care of yourself too.” As she handed me the protein powder, I couldn’t help but notice the hickeys on her neck and raised an eyebrow. “I thought you weren’t seeing anyone. What’s that all about?” “Mosquito bites,” she stammered, quickly covering her neck. “I’ll put some baby lotion on it.” Ever since we first met, Emma had always been quiet and cautious. She never spoke out of turn, never ate the fruit we left on the table, and always ate her meals alone in her room. But now, a flash of doubt crossed my mind. Could David be cheating with her? A homewrecker under our own roof? No, that couldn’t be it. David was in a different city on a business trip when he booked the hotel. Plus, that other woman was in the hospital, in real pain from her ruptured cyst. Still, the thought gnawed at me—was Emma guilty and rushing to pick up the baby to cover up something? Since giving birth, I’d become more emotional, to the point where David would tell me I was being paranoid. After days of stewing in my suspicions, I confronted him once he was discharged. “Tell me the truth. Did you cheat on me? Who were you with that night?” David looked confused, insisting he had just been imitating the workout scene from that rom-com. “You’re always watching sports or the news,” I said, frustrated. “You’ve always made fun of me for watching rom-coms, calling them a waste of time.” David sighed and rubbed my head gently. “If you really want to know, I’ll tell you the truth. I was trying to understand your interests. Ever since you finished your postpartum care, you’ve seemed distant, so I thought if I watched what you liked, we’d have more to talk about.” He even showed me his video history. “You love Lee Min-ho, right? That’s whose show I was watching.” I was stunned into silence, unsure of how to respond. It all seemed so logical. “What about the woman who was brought into the hospital with you that night?” I asked. David cut me off, “The ambulance picked her up on the way. She was sitting on the toilet too long and had stomach pains. That’s when they found out she had a ruptured ovarian cyst. I don’t know her.” I stared at him, bewildered. Later, I asked Kim about the woman, but she said they were in different departments and she didn’t have access to her records. The day David was discharged, Emma had prepared a big dinner for us. After she served the food, she quietly retreated to her room. As I was about to start eating, David stopped her and actually invited her to sit and eat with us. My mood immediately darkened, and I let my chopsticks fall onto my bowl with a loud clatter. Emma hesitated, glancing at me nervously. “It’s okay, I can eat the leftovers from lunch. There’s plenty left.” “When did I ever say you had to eat leftovers? Since David asked, sit down and eat with us,” I said coolly. I barely touched my food that night. Later, before bed, Emma brought us both glasses of warm milk. I suddenly got a strange feeling and wondered if she was treating us differently. I grabbed David’s glass and went to take a sip. That’s when I noticed an odd, fishy smell, not at all like milk. Emma looked panicked. “You’ve got OCD, right? That’s David’s glass…” “I know. We’re married. Why can’t I drink from his cup?” I replied, my voice firm. She bowed her head, too scared to say anything. I took a sip. It tasted off—not sweet, just weird. I asked if the milk had gone bad. David seemed unbothered. “You’re making a fuss. It’s fine. I’ve been drinking it like this for a while.” To my surprise, he took the glass from my hand and drank the rest in one gulp. I cautiously drank from my own glass, which tasted like normal milk. “I’m sorry, maybe that carton of milk had been open too long. Yours was from a new one,” Emma explained in a soft voice. I went back to the bedroom, where our three-month-old daughter was fast asleep in her crib. David stayed up later than me, and just as I was drifting off, half-asleep, I suddenly heard the door being pushed open heavily. Startled, I sat up and snapped, “What are you doing barging in like that? Ever heard of knocking?” Emma stood there, looking surprised, a hint of hurt crossing her face. “Lily, the baby needs to be fed,” she said softly. My daughter, frightened by my outburst, started crying in her crib. Right. Feeding time. This was the usual routine every night, and yet, my mind felt hazy as I rubbed my temples. But what caught me completely off guard was what happened next—Emma crouched down, lifted her shirt, and prepared to nurse the baby right there in front of us. David, not fazed at all, turned his back and started scrolling through his phone, not even glancing her way. “Easy there, baby. Not too rough,” Emma whispered in that soft, delicate voice of hers. Snapping out of my daze, I quickly told her, “Go to the living room if you’re going to do that. Not in the bedroom.” She nodded, but since it was difficult for her to get up while holding the baby in a nursing position, she struggled for a moment, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Years of being married had honed my instincts, and I sensed something off with David. “What’s going on with you?” I asked. He fumbled with his phone, lowering it awkwardly in front of him as he got up, coughing lightly. “I’m just going to watch the game. Messi’s about to play.”

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On my way to meet the lawyer with the will in hand, I was in a car accident. The car was totaled, and I didn’t survive. When I opened my eyes again, I was sitting in a classroom at Brentwood University, back in 2002. Sitting next to me was a 19-year-old Julian Mercer, my boss. “Are you… Julian Mercer?” He was in the same class as me? Julian slightly turned his head, acknowledging that he heard me, though his eyes stayed focused on Professor Dean Foster at the front. “Yeah.” I looked at this young man, wearing a worn-out hoodie and a pair of ill-fitting sneakers. Julian was hurriedly taking notes, and I noticed the bruises on his wrists. This handsome, slender boy would, ten years later, become my boss. He was the one who left all his wealth to me when I was at my lowest. I glanced down at my hands—smooth and delicate. They were completely different from the rough, worn hands I had before. And right there beside me, I spotted a 2002 Chanel handbag. Back when I worked for Julian, my family had fallen into hard times. The few designer bags I owned were gifts from him, given as year-end bonuses. I pulled out a compact from the bag, carefully studying the beautiful young woman reflected in the mirror. I had really been given a second chance.

After class, Julian picked up his books and quickly left. I tried to follow him, but a girl blocked my way. “Sienna, why were you talking to that loser today?” Loser? She must be talking about Julian. “So what if I talked to him?” Her eyes widened, and she reached out to touch my forehead. “Weren’t you the one who used to say he smelled like dirt and was gross?” What? I hated Julian? I tried to recall, but I really had no memory of him from our university days. “I was immature back then. Now I think he’s amazing—an inspiration.” I glanced up, and there he was, standing at the doorway, lips tightly pressed together, looking a bit uneasy. “Did you forget something?” I smiled at him, offering as much kindness as I could. He nodded but didn’t look at me. I grabbed the keys on the desk and handed them to him, following him out of the classroom. His pants were clearly too short, and his shoes too big, revealing the backs of his heels as he walked. There were several blisters on his feet, and I noticed more bruises on his ankles. “Is someone bullying you? Who is it?” He turned around, surprised, as if to say, “Isn’t it you?” I blinked, clarifying, “I mean, someone in your dorm?” He didn’t respond and kept walking. I followed him, and as we passed the West Wing Stairwell, someone suddenly pulled him aside.

“What are you guys doing?” I rushed up to find Julian pinned to the ground. One of the guys had his foot on Julian’s shoulder and looked shocked when he saw me. “Sienna, I thought you hated him.” Julian looked at me too, but his eyes didn’t show fear or a plea for help. “I don’t hate him anymore. In fact, he’s my friend now. So you better move your foot.” The boys laughed mockingly, throwing me challenging looks. I pulled out my phone, pretending to make a call. They started to panic. “What are you doing?” I looked at them innocently. “Calling the dean. My dad donates so much to this school every year, and this is what it produces? A bunch of bullies ganging up on one guy?” They grew scared, knowing I had the power to get them expelled. They glared at Julian and me, muttering curses as they started to leave. “Wait.” They froze. The only defiance they could muster was standing with their backs to me. “Julian is my friend. You got that?” Grudgingly, they nodded and left. I helped Julian up. He wasn’t hurt, just dirtied. In his hand was an unsealed envelope. As he stood, the money inside spilled onto the ground. Some were even coins. “You were going to deposit this?” He looked at me, trying to figure out if I was a friend or foe, then nodded. “I was sending it to my brother.” “You’re this broke, and you’re still giving your brother money?” I realized I’d overstepped as soon as the words left my mouth. Luckily, he didn’t seem offended. “Yeah, he needs it right now.” He had a brother? I had worked for Julian for seven years in my previous life, and not once did I hear him mention a brother.

I had someone look into Julian’s past. It wasn’t an easy path for him. He dropped out in his sophomore year of high school, and it took a lot of convincing from a teacher before his parents agreed to let him retake his exams and go to college. His grades were excellent, and the school waived his tuition. He even received scholarships and financial aid, which won over his parents. But Julian’s younger brother, Mason, had failed his entrance exams, and their family spent a fortune to pull strings to get him into a vocational college. A few days into school, he got a girlfriend and started asking Julian for money to buy her gifts. Their family didn’t give Julian a single cent for living expenses. He had to work at the Brentwood University Dining Hall to earn money and send it back home to support Mason. There was even a picture of Mason in the report. He was leaning against a tree, smoking, with a smug look on his face. But… why did he look so familiar? I racked my brain. Wait… wasn’t this the same guy who was driving the car that hit me in the accident?

A chill ran through me. Maybe the accident wasn’t an accident after all. I had always wondered why Julian left nothing to his parents in his will and gave everything to me instead. Maybe his suicide was tied to his family. Mason’s school was near Brentwood, though it didn’t have the best reputation. Students like Mason, with average grades and family backgrounds, acted as if they ruled the world. Every time I saw their posts, I thought it was some wannabe mob boss living out a fantasy. As I was thinking this, Mason and his group of friends blocked my path, asking for my number. I looked at them coldly. “Why would you need my number? Do you even have a phone?” Mason awkwardly scratched his head and said confidently, “We have a phone booth at our dorm.” When I didn’t respond, he reached for my bag. I shot him a low warning. “This bag is worth ten grand. Are you sure you can afford to pay for it?” They burst into laughter. “No way it costs that much. Is it made of gold?” I didn’t back down. “You’re welcome to try if you’ve got the money.” Mason hesitated but withdrew his hand. Maybe feeling humiliated in front of his friends, he suddenly reached for my arm, but I dodged. “Mason.” A familiar voice came from behind me. It was Julian. He hurried over, pushing Mason away and apologizing to me. I watched as he bent slightly, bowing to me, though just earlier, he hadn’t flinched when others were bullying him. Now, though… I felt a sudden pang of sympathy for him. “Julian, your brother crossed a line. Let’s go back to campus and deal with this.” With that, I walked off. Julian said something to Mason, who looked annoyed, but finally smiled when Julian handed him fifty bucks. Back at Brentwood, Julian was still apologizing. “I’m sorry, my brother is out of line. Please don’t hold it against him.” There was a pleading tone in his voice. I nodded. “Alright, but you owe me tutoring in exchange.”

Julian froze. “Tutoring?” I told him I wasn’t doing well in my classes, especially English. As long as he could tutor me daily and help me pass my finals, I’d let this whole thing go. Plus, I’d pay him for the tutoring. He looked serious as he replied, “I can tutor you, but I won’t take your money.” Of course, I knew he’d say that. But it didn’t matter. There were other ways to help him financially. Thinking back to my past life and how much Julian had cared for me, I had this sudden urge to spend money on him, to return the favor. As a boss, Julian had been great. He’d had a tough life, but he was always kind and considerate with his employees. Once he started making money, he consistently donated to charity, though always in my name. He said he didn’t want any media attention. I understood. After all, it wasn’t like I was losing anything; I was building good karma. Just then, my phone rang. It was my dad. “Hey, Dad.” I greeted him, my voice dry. In my past life, my father had committed suicide by jumping from a building after his company went bankrupt. He hadn’t left a single note behind. I never imagined I would have the chance to speak with him again. “Harper, have you eaten yet?”

His familiar voice, so warm and comforting, made my nose sting, and I had to fight back tears. “I… yeah, I’ve eaten. What about you?” I tried to keep my voice steady, but the emotions were overwhelming. Dad chuckled on the other end. He proudly told me that he’d had Grandma’s pork stew today, knowing it was my favorite dish. That warmth spread through my chest, but I couldn’t forget the real reason for the call. “Hey, Dad, make sure you’re checking the company’s accounts closely. My professor said you should never let just one person handle all the finances—it’s too risky.” In my previous life, my father’s company had been siphoned off bit by bit by his so-called best friend, who eventually fled overseas with millions. Dad had trusted him too much, and even when things went south, he refused to believe it. Dad suddenly turned serious on the phone, saying, “I’ll look into it.” I wanted to keep talking to him, but another call was coming through on his end. He was still Greg Blake, after all. His days were busy. After hanging up, I turned to Julian and discussed my schedule with him.

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Sophomore year, I became infamous in the worst possible way. My best friend, Rachel Lewis, asked me to meet her at a hotel. I went, and from that moment, my life spiraled into a pit of no return. Not only did I lose my dignity, but they ripped my clothes, took compromising photos, and spread them around. Those indecent pictures were sent to everyone—my classmates, even my professors. Soon, I became the hot topic of gossip: “The president of the Student Government, selling herself for money.” Overnight, I became the scandal everyone talked about. My parents couldn’t handle the public shame. They divorced, and my mom, unable to bear the humiliation, overdosed on pills. From that day, I had to transfer schools. I changed my face, my name—everything. But I could never forget Rachel’s smug face that night. She orchestrated the whole thing. I wasn’t going to let her get away with it. I worked my way into Rachel Lewis’ graduate program. I sold my mom’s house, the only thing I had left, and reinvented myself as a rich girl, blending into Rachel’s elite circle, pretending to be her closest friend. Rumor had it that her boyfriend, David Lawson, came from serious old money, was super handsome, and head over heels in love with her. David was going to be my first move. He would be the first “gift” I’d give to Rachel. Getting close to a guy like David, one who’s loyal and high-quality, wasn’t easy—but I had to try. Soon enough, my chance came. On Rachel’s birthday, she got into a fight with David and ignored all his calls. Desperate, David reached out to me. “Emily, is Rachel with you?” David asked. I lied. “Yeah, she’s with me.” He hesitated, then said, “We had a bit of a misunderstanding. She won’t pick up my calls. It’s her birthday tonight, and I want to surprise her. I need your help.” “What do you need?” I asked. “Could you lend me your apartment key?” he asked. Rachel, despite her average background, always pretended to be a rich girl. She claimed she couldn’t stand living in the dorms, so I had to split the rent on an expensive apartment just to stay close to her. “What do you want to do?” I asked, playing dumb. “I want to set up the apartment for a proposal.” My heart sank. Rachel, this fake and vain woman, was about to marry David, this incredible guy? Back in sophomore year, she was willing to destroy me just for the title of Student Government President. How was it fair that someone like her could marry into wealth? “Sure, I’ll help,” I agreed with a smile, even as a dark plan started forming in my mind. The birthday dinner was at a bar near Brentwood University. I made an excuse about traffic and turned around, heading back to our apartment. When I got there, David was already waiting outside with a large box. He was tall, about 6’2”, dressed casually in a black T-shirt and baseball cap, but even without expensive accessories, you couldn’t miss his aura of wealth and class. I walked over, smiling. “Been waiting long?” He didn’t say much, just looked at me with deep, intense eyes. “Not long.” I took him inside, helped him set up a romantic scene for the proposal, and when we took a break, I pulled out a few bottles of sake from the fridge. In one of them, I slipped a little something extra before handing it to him. The alcohol wasn’t strong—just a popular drink you’d find in bars. David barely glanced at the bottle before tipping it back.

Sitting on the box, I took a sip of my own drink. “What do you like about Rachel?” I asked. David drained his bottle, then set it down with a thoughtful look. “She’s kind and bright.” I nearly choked on my drink. Rachel Lewis and “kind and bright”? How blind could this man be? She was vicious, manipulative, dark, and ruthless. “Seriously?” I laughed, but when he looked up at me, his dark, slightly drunk eyes carried a kind of deep, dangerous allure. “She’s good to me,” he said quietly. “Wow, you’ve really got an eye for quality,” I muttered sarcastically as I headed to the balcony. On cue, I called Rachel with a tone of urgency. “Hey, can you come back to the apartment? Something urgent came up.” I returned to the living room to find David passed out on the couch, just as I’d planned. For a moment, guilt washed over me. David was a good guy. He didn’t deserve to be caught in the crossfire of my revenge. But then I thought of all the evil Rachel had done to me, and my resolve hardened. “David, this isn’t to hurt you. I’m saving you,” I whispered before stripping him of his clothes and positioning him on the couch. “I hope we put on a good show,” I said, then destroyed the evidence by wiping down the bottles and tearing my own clothes. I even bruised myself, slapping my face until it swelled. Then, I texted Rachel: “Rachel, hurry back. David’s gone crazy!” My phone buzzed with her frantic calls, but I smashed it into pieces.

Rachel rushed back to the apartment, her face pale as she took in the scene: me, battered and bruised, crying hysterically on the couch, clothes torn, and David sprawled unconscious across the room. “Emily, what happened?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Rachel…” I sobbed, throwing myself into her arms. “David… David attacked me!” It was so satisfying to spit out those words—David attacked me. Rachel looked like she might pass out. Her eyes locked onto David, fury and disbelief bubbling up. She slapped him across the face, shouting, “Wake up, you bastard!” When David groggily woke up, completely unaware of what had happened, Rachel lost it. “You disgusting pig!” I grabbed my phone and ran out of the apartment, draping myself in a coat as I faked a sobbing exit. Rachel had clawed her way up using her looks and charm to hook wealthy guys, and David Lawson was the biggest fish she’d ever landed. She wasn’t going to let him go so easily. Sure enough, as I reached the sidewalk, Rachel came chasing after me. “Emily!” I pretended to shiver as I tried dialing 911 on my shattered phone, knowing it wouldn’t work. I was buying time, letting her true nature surface. “Rachel…” I said, voice shaking. “I need your phone to call the police. I won’t let that monster get away with this.” Rachel’s face went pale, and she grabbed my hand. “Emily, calm down.” “How can I calm down?” I cried. “Do you know what he did to me?” Tears streamed down my face as I continued. “He ripped my clothes, groped me, and… and he assaulted me. I’m going to make sure that man goes to prison! And if you defend him, we’re no longer friends.” Rachel’s expression hardened, and I saw the cold, calculating woman behind her fragile exterior. She forced a smile. “I’m not defending him. I’m just worried about your reputation. Let’s wait a couple of days and talk this through. I’ll get David’s side of the story and make sure you get justice.” Her smile was as chilling as it was fake. But I knew what she was planning. She was getting ready to strike. Everything was going exactly according to plan. Now, it was time to push Rachel over the edge.

The news that David and I had “slept together” spread across Brentwood University’s Instagram Page like wildfire. My childhood friend had helped leak the story, and the more scandalous and unbelievable it sounded, the better. I wanted Rachel to feel cornered, furious. I didn’t care if she hated me. I wanted her to feel the pressure of having to protect her rich “rapist” boyfriend’s reputation. Rachel soon moved back to the dorms, keeping an eye on me under the guise of concern, but I knew the truth: she didn’t want me calling the cops and ruining her chance to marry into wealth. The day after I moved back, David texted me. “Emily, we need to talk.” “Let’s talk off-campus,” I replied. “I don’t want to be seen here.” “Fine,” he agreed. Knowing David liked to dress in black, I picked a black long-sleeve shirt and hat, wrapping myself in a disguise. My friend was ready with a camera to capture every moment. As soon as I got outside, David’s sleek Maybach was parked across the street. I climbed into the back seat. David’s face was tense as he stared at me in the rearview mirror. “Where do you want to go?” “I don’t care. Let’s just drive.” We circled the city aimlessly, and though I felt a pang of guilt for what I was doing to him, thoughts of my dead mother hardened my heart again. I couldn’t tell him the truth yet. Rachel’s poison had already seeped too deep into his mind. If I revealed everything too soon, he wouldn’t believe me. I’d lose my chance for revenge. There was a heavy silence before David finally spoke. “Emily, about that night… I’m sorry. David’s voice was low, almost apologetic. “I’m sorry about what happened that night. I know I drank too much, but honestly, a single bottle of sake shouldn’t have knocked me out like that. Rachel and I have been going over it, and… something feels off.” My heart skipped a beat. I hadn’t expected him to suspect anything so soon. Still, I kept my composure. “What do you mean?” David hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “Doesn’t it seem strange? Like maybe someone else was involved?” I cut him off, tears streaming down my face. “Are you accusing me of something? Why would I set you up? I don’t want your money. I don’t want anything from you. What reason would I have?” “I’m not accusing you of anything—” “You think I’d ruin myself just to frame you for something you didn’t do?” I interrupted, my voice breaking. “You’re trying to cover up what you did by throwing dirt on me!” David exhaled sharply, gripping the steering wheel tightly. He couldn’t meet my eyes. “That’s not what I’m saying.” “Fine,” I shot back, my anger rising. “Let’s go to the police. I still have the underwear with your DNA on it from that night. We’ll see who’s lying.” Before he could respond, I threw open the car door and stormed down the street. “Emily, wait!” David chased after me, grabbing my arm. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” I yanked my arm away, playing up the distress. “You don’t get it! You ruined my life! You treated me like I’m nothing but a—” I choked on my words, collapsing into sobs on his chest. David, shaken, tried to comfort me. “I’ll make it right. I’ll fix this. Whatever you need. I’m truly sorry.” As I cried into his shoulder, my friend discreetly snapped photos from a distance—David pulling me close, my tear-streaked face buried in his shirt. The images would fuel the next wave of gossip on the Brentwood University Instagram Page. Rachel would see these and lose her mind. “I don’t want your money, David,” I whispered, ensuring my voice trembled just enough. “Let’s just pretend none of this happened. For my sake, for Rachel’s.” David’s expression softened, filled with guilt. “If that’s what you want.” I gave a small nod. “Thank you. I just… I just need to move on.” With that, I hailed a cab back to Langston Hall, leaving David standing there, visibly torn and conflicted. I didn’t want to hurt him, but he was an unavoidable casualty in my war against Rachel. Back at the dorm, Rachel was waiting for me. Her eyes were red, but her smile was disturbingly calm. “Emily, where have you been?” I shrugged, playing it off. “Just went for a walk.” Rachel wrapped her arms around me in a fake hug, her voice sugary sweet. “I was so worried about you. Come with me to a party tonight. It’ll take your mind off everything.” She was inviting me to a “celebration”—the same excuse she used that night in sophomore year when she lured me to the Hilton Hotel. She was preparing to make her move. Only this time, she was the prey, and I was the hunter.

I had been lying low around Rachel for so long, there was no way I hadn’t learned everything about her. I knew exactly who she talked to, what she did, and who her connections were. To David, she always played the role of the calm and refined girlfriend, but in reality, she was anything but. Back in sophomore year, she was running with all kinds of shady characters, making friends with a lot of street guys. Her network was wide, and even after getting into grad school and moving to New York City, she still kept in touch with those “brothers” from back then. I sent the party address to my friend, who was already prepping for what we had planned. The celebration was at a nightclub downtown. The VIP Lounge was dimly lit and thick with smoke, filled with guys who were clearly from the wrong side of the tracks. Some were sitting around shirtless, playing cards, while others were getting wild on the dance floor, moving to the heavy beat of the music. “She’s here!” A tall, lanky guy sitting in the middle, cigarette in hand, announced as soon as Rachel walked in. Rachel slapped me on the shoulder and grinned. “Hey Derek, I brought a new girl to join the fun.” A few of the guys turned to look at me, their stares far too intense for comfort. Instinctively, I started to back out of the room. Rachel, however, shoved me forward. “What the hell, Rachel?” I asked, confused. The moment the door clicked shut behind us, her entire demeanor shifted. The fake friendly smile vanished, replaced by a cold smirk. “Emily, it’s time to drop the act.”

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Emma didn’t do her winter break homework and got called to the principal’s office. I rushed to the school, fuming, only to discover her homeroom teacher was my arch-nemesis from high school. Emma hid behind me, giggling: “I did my research, sis. Our homeroom teacher is single. Don’t miss this chance.” What chance? The chance to get revenge for when he pantsed me in front of everyone back then?! In the office, Adrian glanced at me and quickly lowered his head, seemingly trying to hide a smirk. I never imagined that Emma’s new homeroom teacher would be Adrian. Everyone has a few people from their school days that they’ll never forget. As luck would have it, Adrian was that person for me. I cleared my throat, breaking the awkward silence. “Um, Mr. Huo, about Emma not doing her homework, it’s our fault as parents. We’re sorry about that.” Adrian pushed up his glasses and picked up a report card from his desk. “Emma’s grades are usually very good, and she’s been improving lately. But she suddenly stopped doing her homework these past couple days. I’ve asked her why, but she won’t tell me. That’s why I called you in.” I turned to look at Emma. She stuck out her tongue at me and said mysteriously: “This is all for your sake, you know.” Before I could process what she meant, Adrian asked: “What do you mean, ‘for her sake’?” I shot Emma a warning look, gritting my teeth: “What nonsense are you spouting?” Ignoring me, Emma quickly snatched her unfinished homework from Adrian’s desk and dashed towards the door. “Mr. Huo, I’ll go finish my homework now. You two can chat about the rest!” Emma vanished in a flash, leaving Adrian and me staring at each other awkwardly. What is that little devil up to now? The atmosphere in the office was tense. Despite the freezing temperature outside, I was sweating profusely. As I was about to wipe the beads of sweat from my forehead, I saw Adrian offer me a tissue. The tissue had a faint jasmine scent. Looks like Adrian’s taste hasn’t changed. “Thanks.” Adrian chuckled: “Since when did the Queen of the Moon become so polite?” I nearly choked. How could he still remember that ancient nickname? Well, if that’s how he wants to play it… “Long time no see, General Huo.” Adrian’s face finally showed a hint of embarrassment. “It has been a long time indeed.” I thought Adrian might say something like “long time no see, I’ve missed you,” but instead, he said: “No wonder Emma’s not doing her homework. Looks like you’ve been a bad influence.” I forced a smile, glaring at Adrian: “Maybe it’s just that the teacher isn’t very good?” “If I could teach even you properly, how could it be the teacher’s fault?” Adrian’s expression remained neutral, but I wanted to punch him. What kind of comment was that?! The atmosphere grew quiet again. Adrian sat at his desk flipping through lesson plans while I stood to the side, fidgeting. Come to think of it, it’s been seven years since we last saw each other. We were at a loss for words after so long. On the way home, I stared at the new contact in my phone, my mind drifting back to thirteen years ago. Adrian and I met in middle school when we were assigned as desk mates. Back then, he was the dumb son of a nouveau riche family, and I was a warmhearted tomboy. At first, I was pretty unhappy with my wimpy desk mate, but if anyone dared to bully him, it was like they were slapping me in the face! Maybe it was my influence, but he gradually became more and more sharp-tongued. We’d have small arguments every three days and big fights every five days, yet somehow we remained desk mates throughout. Of course, this wimpy desk mate had his good points too. He was great at studying. I managed to go from being at the bottom of the class to successfully applying for college, and that was largely thanks to his help. For a long time afterward, I suspected our homeroom teacher must have been blind. How could she not see Adrian and me fighting every day, yet still keep us as desk mates? When I got home, I was confused to see Mom had prepared a huge spread of dishes. “Mom, why did you cook so much?” Mom’s voice came from the kitchen: “Your aunt and cousin are coming over later. Oh right, how did it go at the school? Did Emma get in trouble?” “Oh, it was nothing. Just the new homeroom teacher getting to know the situation.” “That’s good. Emma has always been such an easy child, much better than you were in school. I still remember your teachers always telling me at parent-teacher conferences how you argued with your desk mate every day.” Mom said as she brought out a pot of soup from the kitchen. I pouted but didn’t say anything. After all, what Mom said was true. But now I was more worried about another issue – the uninvited guests, my aunt and cousin. Ever since we were kids, my cousin Vanessa always had to compete with me on everything. She’d come brag to me when she got better grades on finals, when she got into a better college than me, when she found a better job after graduation… I wonder what she wants to show off this time.

Soon enough, Vanessa arrived, strutting in with her swan-like neck and sitting on the sofa like some high-society lady. “Oh my, Lily, why is your makeup so cakey? I’ve told you before not to use cheap cosmetics. If you can’t afford good ones, just let me know. I’d be happy to buy some for you.” “Really, sis?” I pretended to be excited and grabbed Vanessa’s arm. “Then can you get me a set from Yves Saint Laurent?” Vanessa clearly wasn’t expecting me to be so thick-skinned. Her expression almost slipped. I’ve grown up over the years too. The old method of fighting fire with fire is outdated. These days, it’s all about sincerity. Sincerity is the ultimate weapon. Seeing the situation, Aunt Linda quickly changed the subject: “Lily, you have no idea how busy your cousin has been since she got promoted to manager. She doesn’t have time to go shopping for things like that anymore.” Aunt Linda emphasized the word “manager” heavily. Looks like this was the purpose of their visit. I pretended not to understand and continued: “Then I’ll just send Vanessa the link. All she has to do is pay.” Sensing the awkward atmosphere, Mom hurriedly called us to eat. I didn’t push it any further and happily sat down at the table to munch on my chicken wings. Mom knew what my aunt and cousin were like, but since she and Aunt Linda were sisters, she could only tune out when Aunt Linda started bragging. At the dinner table, Aunt Linda brought up Vanessa’s promotion to manager again. “Our Vanessa became a manager before she even turned 30. That’s quite an achievement in our family. But there’s even bigger news coming.” Vanessa blushed coyly and nudged Aunt Linda: “Mom, nothing’s confirmed yet. Don’t say anything.” Seeing Vanessa like this, Aunt Linda got even more excited. “I think Adrian is such a nice boy. You two should date seriously. Bring him over sometime to meet your aunt. Lily, you don’t have a boyfriend yet, right? You should start thinking about it. It gets harder to find a good match as you get older. Lily, you’ve always been so loud and boisterous. You can’t be like that after you get married.” Adrian? My heart skipped a beat. Was it the Adrian I was thinking of? Or just someone with the same name? Vanessa quickly answered my unspoken question. “Lily, you must know Adrian, right? He went to the same high school as you. I think you were even in the same grade?” I forced an awkward laugh: “How would I know any Adrian?” But Vanessa wouldn’t let it go: “Really? Adrian was the most popular guy in your high school. You didn’t know that?” I always knew Adrian was popular. In high school, lots of girls would crowd around our classroom door between classes to look at Adrian. They called him the “campus heartthrob” and “dream guy”. Many girls wrote him love letters. Some even gave their letters to me to pass on to him. When other classmates asked those girls why they trusted me to deliver the letters, weren’t they worried I might be a rival, the girls’ responses were quite cutting. They told me, “I can tell from the way you look at him that you’d never like Adrian.” Unfortunately, they were wrong. Mom noticed my strange expression and put a piece of steak on Vanessa’s plate. “Lily was always such a troublemaker in school. How could she remember any classmates? By the way, how did you two meet? What’s that boy’s family background like?” Mom’s questions successfully opened Aunt Linda’s floodgates. I couldn’t hear clearly what they said after that. My mind was filled with thoughts of Adrian. How could he be dating my cousin? That night, I tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. The little moon-shaped night light on my bedside table cast a soft yellow glow. Adrian had given it to me when we graduated high school. I’d kept it all these years – seven years had passed in the blink of an eye. Yeah, we hadn’t been in touch for seven years. It was normal for him to have a girlfriend. But why did it have to be my cousin? I dreamed about Adrian that night too. I dreamed about us spilling ink on each other while fighting over a pen, getting punished to stand in the hallway for arguing during class, him trash-talking me while I was running… Days passed slowly. My parents suddenly had to go on a business trip and asked me to pick up Emma from school on the weekend. From far away, I could see Emma standing next to Adrian, waving at me. Don’t just wave, come over here! Emma showed no signs of walking over, so I had to steel myself and approach them. Adrian’s face was as handsome as ever, but thinking about him dating my cousin made my heart ache. Emma looked very excited. She grabbed my hand and said: “Sis, Mr. Huo is coming to our house for a home visit tomorrow.” Compared to my shocked expression, Adrian seemed quite calm. Adrian smiled at me: “Is Emma’s guardian okay with the home visit?” “Huh? Oh, sure.” “Sis, why don’t you send Mr. Huo our address? Didn’t you two exchange contact info?” “No need.” My mouth moved faster than my brain: “He knows it.” “Knows what?” I realized I’d misspoken and quickly covered: “I mean I know, I know. I’ll send it later.” “Then I’ll trouble Emma’s guardian.” I felt an intense gaze on me. My cheeks burned as I dragged Emma away, practically fleeing. On the way home, Emma asked if I’d been chatting with Adrian. The answer was of course no. Emma sighed in exasperation: “Oh Lily, what am I going to do with you? Mr. Huo is young, handsome, and rich. I worked so hard to set you two up. If you don’t make a move, someone else will snatch him up!” So this was Emma’s true motive for getting called to the principal’s office. I felt like such an idiot. I suddenly remembered my cousin’s situation. “Emma, are you sure your Mr. Huo really doesn’t have a girlfriend?” “Of course I’m sure. I investigated for ages.” Then what was going on with my cousin and him? I turned to glare at Emma: “Can’t you focus on your studies? Why are you always thinking about useless things?” “Studying is so simple, how much of my brain power could it possibly take? Look, I got first in the school again.” Now it was my turn to break out in a cold sweat. I wanted to say more, but Emma cut me off. “Sis, you’re not getting any younger. It’s time for you to start dating. Stop thinking about that night light guy.” “What night light guy?” “The guy who gave you that moon night light.” Are kids these days all so precocious? I feel like I’ve been left behind by the times. “Don’t be ridiculous. The one who gave me the night light was just a friend.” Emma looked at me like I was an idiot: “If he was just a normal friend, why do you treasure that night light so much? There’s even a love letter hidden under it.” “Emma! You actually read my love letter?!” That night, I typed and deleted messages in the chat window over and over. It was past 10 pm when I finally sent Adrian my home address. Adrian replied quickly. “I know.”

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The day my sister ran away from her engagement party, I knew Marcus Lee would never truly love me. So she left for another country without a care, leaving me behind to hold her place as Mrs. Lee. I didn’t cry or make a scene. While still young and vulnerable, I gave everyone a graceful way out. Then I put all my effort into making Marcus Lee fall in love with me bit by bit. And I made sure to step away right after my sister came back. On my birthday, Marcus drove me to a campsite in the mountains. Tonight there would be a rare red moon, visible only once every fourteen years, along with a meteor shower said to grant wishes. A few ladybugs landed on my face, startling me into grabbing his hand tightly. He instinctively flinched but then, feeling how cold my hands were, pulled me into his embrace. In our five years of marriage, Marcus gave me anything I asked for. Houses, cars, luxury goods. Others said they’d never seen a man who loved his wife so much. They said it with such certainty that I even began to hope a little. So at my celebration dinner, emboldened by alcohol, I leaned on Marcus’s shoulder. “This year, I want to spend my birthday with you,” I said. “I don’t want any parties. I just want you with me.” He hesitated unusually long, only agreeing after the atmosphere had grown awkward. I no longer cared whether his tone was reluctant or helpless when he agreed. I was just overjoyed, waiting eagerly for nightfall. But just as the sun set, his phone rang. The signal wasn’t great in the mountains. Through the static came a few sudden sobs. “Marcus, I’m so scared.” “Why is no one here?” Crystal’s voice came through loudly, and Marcus’s face instantly darkened. The signal suddenly cut out, the static disappearing, leaving only the sound of birds flapping their wings. My hands grew cold again. I moved closer and grabbed his sleeve, but he shook off my hand, holding his phone up high searching for a signal. I stood frozen in place while he just frowned, constantly redialing, not even bothering to look up and explain. I sighed, grabbed my coat and got in the car. In the distance, I could faintly see the stars, but Marcus didn’t care. He just stepped on the gas. At the foot of the mountain, I stubbornly got out of the car and checked into the B&B I had booked in advance. Late at night, I huddled on the balcony wrapped in clothes. As soon as my phone regained signal, my mother’s calls started coming in non-stop. She had never called me before, not even that night when I nearly died from pain in the hospital after an unexpected miscarriage. I silently watched her incoming call notification. The ringtone stopped abruptly after a minute, then a new call came in. I pressed answer, and as expected, a mix of scolding and crying came through. “Couldn’t you have said something about canceling the party? Do you know she waited in the wind for two hours?” “If Marcus hadn’t come in time, her health really couldn’t have taken it. You know how fragile your sister is!” I looked at the winding river of stars in the sky and spoke sarcastically. “If she can’t take it, don’t you as her mother help her by taking my blood and bone marrow? How could she not handle it?” The woman on the other end was taken aback by my words, then seemed to be provoked into shouting. “Did we ever short-change you on food or drink? The Taylor family may owe you, but we still raised you.” “Do you have to be so intolerant of your sister? Do you want her to get sick?” “Your sister even gave up Marcus for you. What more compensation do you want from her before you’re satisfied?” Her voice was so self-righteous, framing all of Crystal’s willful actions as being forced. After all these years, I thought I was past being hurt by her favoritism. But the love and care for Crystal in her words made me so jealous I nearly cried. A shooting star seemed to streak by outside. I quickly closed my eyes, holding back my tears. I turned my phone face down and made a sincere wish. In this new year of my life, I want lots and lots of love. When I opened my eyes, Marcus’s message was at the top. “Happy birthday, Fiona.” I deleted the text and turned off my phone. In this new year of my life, I decided to take back my love and give it only to myself. When I asked my lawyer friend to help draft divorce papers, her eyes went wide in disbelief, just like when she learned I was marrying Marcus. Back then she had said: “That playboy? Are you sure about this?” Now she was saying: “He treats you so well. Are you sure about this?” I thought carefully again and said seriously under her complex gaze: “Divorce papers, you know. Better safe than sorry!” Five years ago, Marcus not only turned down a socially suitable marriage prospect but also declared he would give up everything to marry me, shocking everyone. Because the proposal target was me. Not my sister Crystal, who shone brightly and won international cello competitions. It was me, the least favored daughter of the Taylor family, disliked by my parents and unable to please men. At first, everyone thought I was just a tool Marcus was using to vent his anger. After all, he had pulled strings for Crystal, introducing her to the best professors, only for her to decide to go abroad without a word, leaving him no room for discussion. But in less than a month, Marcus posted our marriage certificate online and arranged for me to work at his family’s company. Overnight, it seemed, those who had looked down on me became incredibly friendly. Even my mother, who never spared me a glance, softened her expression and personally did my hair, sending me off to be married. At that time, I thought maybe I, who had been ignored by fate for twenty years, was finally blessed for once. Even if the beginning wasn’t pure, I was willing to be brave this once, just for myself. So I worked overtime day and night, struggling to stand shoulder to shoulder with him. At home, I took care of everything personally, leaving his family no room to find fault. When Marcus first saw his mother – who was usually extremely picky with others, who had cursed Crystal until she slammed the door and left – now affectionately holding my hand and refusing to let go, he just stared at me blankly, his eyes full of confusion and deep shock. It seemed that from that day on, he began to realize I wasn’t as weak and useless as rumors claimed. He started learning to accept me, even learning to… fall in love with me. He completely changed from his playboy ways, accompanying me in gardening and cooking. As long as he wasn’t on a business trip, he would definitely be home before midnight. I would heat up hangover soup for him as soon as I saw the car lights come on outside the villa. And when he came in, he would grab my hand, kiss the ring on my finger, and whisper in my ear: “I’m so tired today. I missed you.” So intimate that I almost fell for it unguardedly. He started being too good to me, so good that I even thought he had truly fallen in love with me, so good that I almost let my guard down, so good that I nearly gave him my all without reservation. Until a month ago, when I received an anonymous text message. [Thank you for your hard work these five years, but I’m coming back next month, and some things should be returned to their rightful owner.] [Right, little sister?] Her tone was confident and certain. I felt dizzy. Why? When she wanted to go abroad, she could abandon everything and let others clean up her mess. And now that my life has finally gotten on track, she can just casually turn it upside down. [I’m very satisfied with my life and have no plans for divorce at the moment.] [Neither does Marcus.] It took all my courage to send that. She seemed to disdain replying and went silent. The next second, I received a bank notification of a $200,000 deposit from my husband Marcus. Memo: Sorry. In an instant, it was like a bucket of cold water poured over me from head to toe, waking me up. Of course. Without his consent, how could she be stupid enough to send such a provocative message to my phone? She and Marcus both valued face above all else, so arrogant that even interfering in someone else’s marriage seemed justified to them. I turned off my phone and poured out the hangover soup in the kitchen. He wouldn’t be coming home tonight. Five years. It was time to wake up from this dream. Thank goodness, I think I almost really fell in love with you. It took less than a week for news to spread through my social circle that I had consulted a lawyer about divorce, along with rumors that Crystal was rushing to rekindle her old flame with Marcus as soon as she returned. Some said I was useless, that as a country bumpkin I couldn’t keep my husband’s heart. Others mocked Crystal, saying she’d wasted so many years abroad only to come back and fight her own sister for a man. Crystal kept her cool, but someone else couldn’t stay calm and rushed to speak up for her. Tyler’s call came just as I was about to chair a meeting to finalize the spokesperson for the company’s New Year product line. The angry young man’s voice came through the speaker: “You’re so useless you can’t keep your own husband, so you’re throwing mud at Crystal?” “I didn’t realize you were hiding such depths. Who knew you’d jump at the chance to be so despicable.” My secretary beside me was so embarrassed she wanted to cover her ears, but I calmly circled the key points for today’s meeting with my pen while saying into the phone: “If you really have what it takes, either be man enough to tell Marcus to stop harassing Crystal, or persuade Crystal to be patient and wait for my divorce before latching on. Don’t let people think the Taylor family produced a homewrecker.” “But you’re just a spoiled brat your parents ruined. You took over the company but still need Marcus’s company to feed you.” “You don’t dare offend him, so you come throw your weight around with me.” I took a sip of water and grinned with satisfaction. “What a useless thing.” I hung up, cutting off Tyler’s impotent rage. Tyler and I hadn’t been in contact for years. Even when we met at parties, he would only grudgingly call me “sis” for Marcus’s sake. Tyler grew up with Crystal, while I was sent to live with our grandparents in the countryside. Naturally, he wasn’t close to me. In his eyes, I was still the timid Fiona who didn’t even dare speak loudly, never imagining I would be so dismissive of him. He didn’t know that I was now fully in charge of the fashion line at Marcus’s company. So in the meeting, with one hint from me, support for Tyler’s company for the next quarter was cut off. In the spacious office, I finally experienced how great it felt to have a say. That evening, Marcus came home unusually early, even earlier than me. He seemed to have dug out the divorce agreement I had hidden in the drawer. The thin sheet of paper was torn into pieces and thrown in the trash. He stubbed out his cigarette and slowly spoke. “I heard you cut off the deal with the Taylor company just because I went to save Crystal?” “She fainted from the cold for your birthday party. I couldn’t just let her die, could I?” “You really don’t have to be so intolerant. It’s petty.”

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“Anna, I’ll be on a business trip for a month. Can you go to my place and feed my cat? Oh, and the mango juice in the fridge is about to expire.” At 2 AM, I was awakened by the vibration of my phone. I picked up my phone and saw it was a message from my best friend. In the next second, I was wide awake, breaking out in a cold sweat. First, she was a freelancer, there was no such thing as a business trip for her. Second, she didn’t have a cat. Third, she was allergic to mangoes. “Anna, I’ll be on a business trip for a month. Can you go to my place and feed my cat? Oh, and the mango juice in the fridge is about to expire.” At 2 AM, I was awakened by the vibration of my phone. I picked up the phone on my nightstand and saw it was a message from my best friend, Claire Thompson. I’m a light sleeper. No exaggeration, if a pin drops on the floor at night, I’d wake up immediately. Claire had always known this, so she never sent me messages in the middle of the night. In the next second, I suddenly realized something, and all my sleepiness vanished, replaced by a cold sweat. Claire and I had known each other for over a decade. She was my best friend, and no one knew her better than I did. First, she was a freelancer, there was no such thing as a business trip for her. Second, she didn’t have a cat. Third, she was allergic to mangoes. A while ago, Claire and I watched a movie about the safety of women living alone. There was a plot where two best friends agreed on a code word to alert each other if they were in danger. “Anna, if I ever send you a strange message like that, you must come to save me.” I was panicking, instinctively wanting to call Claire. But I quickly realized that she used these abnormal words to hint at me, rather than directly telling me what happened, which could only mean that the culprit was right beside her, watching her every move. At 2:30 AM, it seemed like there was a power outage outside, everything was pitch black. In the darkness, it felt like countless eyes were secretly watching me. My heart was pounding so hard that I could clearly hear it in my ears, as if it was about to burst out of my chest. I hurriedly took some pills from the drawer and swallowed them dry. It took a while before I calmed down. After calming down, I first called Ryan, then reported to the police. Ryan is my boyfriend. He’s smart and tall. Whether it’s dealing with the police or going to find Claire, I always feel more secure with him by my side. As soon as I saw Ryan, I threw myself into his arms and started crying uncontrollably. “Don’t be afraid, Anna. I’m here. No one will hurt you anymore.” Ryan patted my back, comforting me softly. Smelling the faint fragrance on him, the fear in my heart gradually dissipated. Thankfully, I still had Ryan. About five minutes later, the police arrived too. I sat on the sofa, listening to Ryan talk to them. “Anna Johnson?” The police’s surprised voice rang out. I finally raised my head and looked towards the door. Seeing the familiar face of the lead officer, I was also surprised. It was Lucas Chen. It’s quite a coincidence. Lucas and I were old acquaintances. We were middle school classmates, and if I had to say, he was even my first love. However, the scene when we broke up was truly devastating, unforgettable to this day. We were young and didn’t know any better back then. That kind of puppy love couldn’t be taken seriously. Even so, meeting Lucas in this situation made me feel somewhat awkward. Lucas was quite professional, though. He had no intention of catching up with me. He said in a businesslike manner, “We understand the situation. We’ll go to Claire’s house now.” “I’ll go with you,” I mustered up the courage to say. Lucas glanced at me disapprovingly, his eyes seeming to suggest that I would be a nuisance. Ryan also tried to persuade me, “I know you’re worried about Claire, but this kind of thing should be left to the police.” I bit my lip and stubbornly said, “Claire is my best friend. I won’t be able to rest easy until I see with my own eyes that she’s safe. Besides, I have the key to her house. I can help.” Seeing my insistence, Ryan and Lucas had no choice but to compromise. They both knew that when I set my mind on something, I would always persist. With no other option, Lucas had to take Ryan and me along. As a standard rich kid, Claire lived in a high-end townhouse with a very comprehensive security system. Lucas immediately sent his subordinates to retrieve the surveillance footage, while he followed Ryan and me straight to Claire’s townhouse. As soon as we reached the door, we smelled the scent of blood. I couldn’t help but shudder, a sense of foreboding welling up inside me. My breathing became rapid, and I reached into my bag for the keys. The more nervous you are, the harder it is to do anything right. The keys that I usually keep in the outer pocket of my backpack were nowhere to be found today. Seemingly noticing my fear, Ryan gently hugged me from behind and whispered, “Anna, don’t be afraid. I’m here.” I took several deep breaths, barely maintaining my composure, and finally found the keys. I handed them to Lucas. Lucas looked at me with displeasure, probably thinking I was too slow. He didn’t say anything, just turned to open the door. Claire’s house was dark, and the pungent smell of blood in the air made it hard for me to breathe. I stared at that tightly closed door, inexplicably panicking, as if the next second, a man-eating monster would rush out from that dark doorway. I tightly held onto Ryan’s arm, as if this could make me feel secure. The door opened, and Lucas went in first, fumbling to turn on the living room lights. I looked towards the center of the living room with trepidation. This scene, I will never forget for the rest of my life. Claire was dead. In her own living room, in an extremely brutal manner. She was nailed to a cross in a kneeling position, her face slashed, her body stabbed countless times, blood everywhere. I screamed in terror, almost falling to the ground. Thankfully, Ryan caught me in time and took out the pills he always carries with him, handing them to me. After taking the medicine, my emotions improved a lot, but I was still crying uncontrollably. “It’s all my fault. I came too late. If only I had come earlier.” Lucas stood not far away, glaring at me impatiently, “This killer is extremely cruel. If you had come earlier, there would just be one more corpse.” I felt embarrassed. Lucas’s mouth was as nasty as before. That’s good. The police quickly surrounded the place and put up police tape. The officer who went to retrieve the surveillance footage returned empty-handed: “The cameras around have been destroyed.” I sat numbly on the steps at the entrance, feeling lost. My best friend had died so brutally in her own home. Anyone would find it hard to accept. As I was lost in thought, a furry head suddenly appeared in front of my face, scaring me out of my wits. Thankfully, Ryan was always by my side and pulled me into his arms. “Dog Egg! Come back!” Lucas called out sternly. Only then did I realize it was a police dog. “I’m sorry, Anna is afraid of dogs. Please keep the dog under control,” I heard Ryan’s displeased voice. Lucas held the dog leash, looking at me thoughtfully. I guess he was probably wondering when I became afraid of dogs. After all, when we were dating back then, we even adopted a puppy together. But people change. I was the one who reported the case, so Lucas questioned me separately as per procedure. “What’s your relationship with the deceased, Claire Thompson?” “She was my best friend.” I thought to myself, Lucas should know the answer to this question without asking. After all, the three of us were middle school classmates, and Claire and I had been closest since then. Rather than saying she was my best friend, it would be more accurate to say she was my only friend. My dad was a gambling addict who never paid his debts, and my mom ran a massage parlor in town. Yes, that kind of disreputable one. Somehow this news spread, and the whole school knew about it. No one wanted to hang out with me, except for Claire. My entire youth only seemed less gloomy because of Claire’s companionship. To me, she was more important than the parents I had long since cut ties with. “What was her job? Did she have any enemies?” “She was a food vlogger. She rarely had conflicts with people. I really can’t think of anyone who would hate her so much to kill her so brutally.” As I spoke, I choked up again and lowered my head, covering my face. “Did she have any relationship issues?” I thought carefully for a while, then shook my head in confusion, “I don’t know. I didn’t really ask about her love life.” “Weren’t you best friends?” Lucas narrowed his eyes slightly. I felt a bit awkward, “Even best friends don’t tell each other everything, right?” Lucas made no comment and continued asking, “What about you? What do you do now?” I was taken aback for a moment, then answered truthfully, “I just quit my job recently. I’m unemployed now.” “Why did you quit?” “Officer Chen, do the questions you’re asking now have anything to do with Claire’s death? Or are you suspecting that I’m the killer?” I was very angry, but Lucas continued coldly, “Claire died in her home. There were no signs of forced entry on the doors or windows. The killer might be someone Claire was familiar with, someone she opened the door for, or someone who had a key to her house.” “You said you received a strange text from Claire when you reported the case, but we didn’t find Claire’s phone at the scene.” He had said this much, and of course I understood. He really was suspecting me. I laughed bitterly, “So you think that because I don’t have a stable job or income, I killed my best friend out of jealousy because she was living better than me?” “Answer my question.” His voice was devoid of any warmth. I gave in, “Fine. I quit my job because I have neurasthenia and can’t live and work normally.” I lowered my head, not wanting to see pity and sympathy in his eyes. To be honest, I felt quite disappointed that he didn’t trust me. But thinking about it, when we were together back then, he wasn’t that firmly convinced of me either. To him, I was at most a familiar stranger. Why should he believe what I say? Lucas stared at me intently, as if trying to see guilt and panic on my face. We looked at each other in silence for a long time. Suddenly, he took out an evidence bag and gently placed it on the table. “This phone, it’s yours, right?” It was an outdated old phone. The phone screen was lit up, showing a selfie of me. With Claire’s family background, she would never use this kind of off-brand phone. Her phone had always been the latest model of a certain fruit brand. I stared at that phone for a long time, then nodded, “Yes, it’s mine.” “Can you explain why your phone appeared at the crime scene?” Lucas asked. Only then did I notice that the back of the phone was stained with blood. I shook my head, “I don’t know either. To be honest, I lost this phone three years ago. The phone I’m using now was given to me by Claire.” I think my expression must have been quite ugly now.

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Scarlett had an affair with a married man and ended up pregnant. She had no job, no savings, so I tried to convince her not to keep the baby. But she insisted, saying she believed in destiny and that aborting the baby would ruin her karma and affect her future luck. But when the baby was born, she dumped him on me to raise and went off to “see the world.” I spent half my life raising Logan, my nephew, all the way through to his college acceptance. And then, just like that, Scarlett came back! She told Logan, “You don’t know this, but your Aunt Avery kept telling me to get rid of you when I was pregnant. And after you were born, she basically took you from me. You’re my flesh and blood—of course, I love you.” Logan hated me from that day on. One day, Logan got into a car accident. I risked everything to push him out of the way, and I was hit, thrown nearly thirty feet. As I lay dying, the nephew I had raised with so much love cradled my broken body and sneered softly, “You almost didn’t let me exist, then you kept me away from my mother for years, depriving me of her love. This life and whatever insurance payout you’ve left me—consider it your penance.” A bright white light engulfed me, taking me back to the day Scarlett knocked on my door, her belly just beginning to show. I opened my eyes to see her sitting in front of me, crying as she asked, “Avery, I have no one else. Should I keep this baby or not?” I pulled a coin from my pocket and placed it in her hand. “Sis, you believe in destiny, don’t you? Let the universe guide you—flip it.”

Scarlett stared at the coin, utterly dumbfounded. She looked at me like I’d lost my mind. Because she knew me well. She knew I was tough on the outside but soft on the inside. She expected me to beg her not to have the baby. But if she chose to keep it, she knew I wouldn’t be able to turn away. I’d get attached to the baby, and once I did, she’d use the guilt of me telling her to abort to manipulate me into doing everything for her. She’d done it before. Many times. We were only a year apart, and when our parents died young, we had to rely on the kindness of relatives and my scholarships to get by. I knew education was the only way to change my fate, so aside from working weekends and holidays, I spent every waking minute studying. My hard work paid off. I always scored at the top of my class and received so many scholarships that the money was enough to cover both Scarlett’s and my living expenses. But Scarlett wasn’t like me. She loved reading romance novels and fantasized about being the heroine in some rich love story. She only went to school to scope out guys she could settle down with—potential “success stories,” she called them. When she realized her grades would never get her into college, she decided to start working early, dreaming of being discovered by some rich executive at the office. “Avery, with my grades, do you think it’s even worth staying in school? I feel like I should just start working and save some money instead…” Given our circumstances, I agreed. It made sense at the time. That one word—“yes”—would come back to haunt me for the rest of my life. She couldn’t find a good job and started blaming me, saying if I had pushed her to stay in school, at least she’d have a diploma. She couldn’t find a decent man and blamed me again, saying if I hadn’t convinced her to drop out, maybe she wouldn’t have been looked down on for her lack of education. I felt guilty, so I worked part-time while going to college, supporting her the whole way through. I didn’t even dare date anyone in college because every break, I’d be working myself to the bone to make sure she was comfortable. It wasn’t until much later that I realized she’d taken the money I earned and borrowed loans to buy luxury brands, playing the part of a high-class woman to attract men. Time and time again, she’d trick me into stepping into these traps, and then use emotional blackmail to manipulate me. She’d been doing it ever since we were kids. But in my past life, I cared too much about the bond of family to see the truth. I let her control me willingly. After I died, my soul floated above, watching as the truth played out in front of me. The car accident wasn’t an accident at all—it was orchestrated by Scarlett and Logan, betting that I would die for the nephew I had raised. They took the life insurance money, claimed my house as their own… and when my ashes were finally returned to them, they tossed the urn into the trash. As the memories of my previous life flashed before me, the pain and bitterness I felt were unbearable. All I wanted was another chance to destroy them both. Fortunately, the universe had other plans. I was reborn.

“Scarlett, flip it! Why aren’t you flipping it? Don’t tell me you don’t believe in destiny?” I waved a hand in front of her face to snap her out of it. She awkwardly picked up the coin, muttering, “Fine. Destiny, give me a sign. Heads, I keep the baby; tails, I don’t.” The coin spun in the air, landed, and flipped over—heads. “Well, looks like destiny wants you to keep the baby! So go ahead and have it.” Before, Scarlett had been working at Mr. Leonard Blackwood’s antique shop when she got involved with him, a married man. He was a smooth talker, convincing her to believe in destiny, using it to manipulate her. He tricked her into buying all these statues and trinkets that supposedly needed to be “blessed” or “worshipped.” She spent her entire paycheck on those things. And she borrowed from me constantly. Well, she called it borrowing—I knew she’d never pay me back. Now, she was pregnant, and Leonard told her his wife had found out, so she needed to leave the apartment he had rented for her. “But if I have the baby, where will we stay?” Scarlett’s eyes roamed greedily around my house, her tone turning pitiful. This house was the one Ethan and I had bought together, our future home. In my last life, Scarlett insisted on keeping the baby, guilted me into letting her stay, and that decision led to disaster. I was blinded by my sense of duty and agreed to help her. That was the beginning of the end. So, this time, I had to stop it right at the source. “That’s easy. Mom and Dad’s old cottage in Bluegrass is still empty. And just last week, Aunt Rachel called me. She opened a little corner market and needs help running it. You can stay at the old house, help her out, and earn some money. You’ll have a place to stay and a way to support yourself. Who knows? Maybe if you have a son, Leonard will come back and treat you like a queen.” Scarlett looked at me like I had suddenly changed into a different person, full of suspicion, but also thinking that what I was saying made sense. Before she could start overthinking it, I quickly called Aunt Rachel and made the arrangements. Now all I had to do was wait for Ethan to get off work and drive her back to Kentucky. “But I still feel like…” Scarlett hesitated. “Don’t worry. Don’t you think this is destiny’s way of showing you the path? Everything happens for a reason, and it’s all part of a bigger plan. Just follow it,” I quickly reassured her, shutting down any doubts she had. After all, in my past life, this was exactly how she had manipulated me. She moved into my house with that pregnant belly and caused complete chaos, single-handedly wrecking the relationship I had with Ethan’s family. In the end, Ethan and I broke up, he moved out, but left the house to me. Before leaving, Scarlett had the audacity to pat my shoulder and say, “Don’t worry, this is destiny’s plan. It’s just showing you that Ethan isn’t the right man for you.” After Ethan moved out, she immediately complained that the guest room was too uncomfortable because of her pregnancy and took over my master bedroom. This time, I wasn’t going to let that happen. No way was I going to lose the man I loved and the future I deserved to these two ungrateful wolves ever again. And I certainly wasn’t going to give up the love and support of the mother-in-law who treated me like her own daughter.

After I dropped Scarlett off at the old family cottage, I immediately dragged Ethan to the courthouse to get our marriage license. Ethan held the license in disbelief. “Honey, slap me. Am I dreaming?” This fool. In my previous life, after we broke up, he never married anyone else. He stayed single. When he heard about my death, he couldn’t even find my grave. He took my old coat, the only thing of mine still at his place, and made a little memorial out of it, talking to it every day like I was still there. Earlier, with Scarlett around, I had to keep my emotions in check. But now that she was gone, I broke down, clinging to Ethan. “You’re not dreaming. I’m the one who had a nightmare. But I’m awake now.” I told Ethan a little bit about my past life. He didn’t believe me at first. So I told him, in a few days, his company would send him on a business trip to Savannah. No matter what, he needed to go. In my previous life, after Scarlett moved in, Ethan’s mom came to visit us. While we were out, Scarlett snooped through our bedroom drawers, and his mom caught her. They argued, and Scarlett, being pregnant, wasn’t backing down. She pushed Ethan’s mom, and she hit her head on the corner of a table. Ethan had to stay and take care of his mom, missing out on a business trip that would have secured him a huge contract and a promotion. The colleague who went instead got that contract and spent the next twenty years climbing higher and higher while Ethan was stuck in a rut. Sure enough, three days after Ethan’s mom arrived, he was notified about the Savannah trip. This time, without Scarlett around to cause trouble, Ethan’s mom and I got along perfectly. Nothing interfered with his trip. Ethan finally believed me about my rebirth. He always listened to me before, but now, he was practically hanging on my every word. Just as we returned from the airport after dropping Ethan off, Scarlett was standing at the door with her suitcase. “Avery! You’re finally back!” “I have to tell you, Aunt Rachel’s cooking is terrible. I’m so used to your cooking!” “And her store? She wants me to wake up at nine in the morning. You know I’m pregnant—I can’t get up that early!” “Seriously, how do you expect me to live like this, huh?” The moment Scarlett stepped into the house, she started her endless complaints, nagging non-stop until she noticed the guest room—the one she used to stay in—was now filled with Mrs. Florence Caldwell’s things. She finally stopped talking and turned to me. “What’s going on here?” “Oh! Sis, I was just about to call you. Ethan and I got our marriage license! And Mom has already moved in with us.” I smiled as I took Mrs. Caldwell’s hand. Scarlett froze for a moment, clearly stunned. She had spent so long trying to brainwash me, convincing me that everyone from my in-laws’ side, especially my future mother-in-law, was an outsider. She always warned me that getting too close to them would only bring bad luck. And now, here I was, living with my mother-in-law. Scarlett gave me a look that screamed, “Have you lost your mind?” She didn’t even bother to greet Mrs. Caldwell before dragging me into another room to talk in private. “Avery, are you even listening to anything I’ve ever told you? Didn’t I warn you that Ethan’s mom is nothing but trouble? And now you’ve actually let her move in with you? Are you trying to drive me insane? And what about this house? There are only two bedrooms—if she’s staying in one, where am I supposed to stay?” I raised a finger to my lips. “Shh…” I gestured for her to follow me to the window seat where I had set up a little altar with a small jade Universal God statue I had bought for thirty bucks online. “Sis, keep it down. Don’t disturb the God …” “What the…?” Scarlett stared at me, bewildered. After all those years of her trying to brainwash me, I had always resisted this kind of superstition. I’d often tell her not to waste her money on these things. Now, all of a sudden, I looked like a devout believer. “Sis, you don’t understand. It’s because of you and your belief in destiny that I’ve been blessed. Destiny came to me in a dream and told me that Ethan is my perfect match, but only if he lives with his mother to fulfill his duty. That’s the only way we’ll ever achieve real success.” “Guess what? Ever since I followed that guidance and moved Mrs. Caldwell in, Ethan’s been sent to Savannah to negotiate a multimillion-dollar deal. If it goes through, his promotion is guaranteed. And we’ll even be able to afford a bigger house—three bedrooms!” “Sure, his mom is a bit of a handful, but hey, she’s basically our ticket to fortune! But, sis, you’re pregnant, and I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable here.” “Besides, I heard Mrs. Blackwood is still looking for you. You gave this address on your job application, right? If she shows up here, all your hard work could go down the drain.” “You should stay at the old family cottage for now. Once things settle down, I’ll bring you back.” As I painted the picture of a bright, successful future, Scarlett’s previously dull eyes lit up with excitement. She was convinced that if Ethan succeeded, it meant she’d be in for a windfall too. When we walked back into the living room, she was practically beaming at Mrs. Caldwell, addressing her with overly sweet “Auntie this” and “Auntie that.” Poor Mrs. Caldwell, who had no idea what had just transpired, stood there, completely confused. The truth is, Mrs. Caldwell wasn’t hard to take care of at all. She treated me better than my own mother ever had. I thought back to my previous life and how I had sided with Scarlett so many times, letting Mrs. Caldwell down repeatedly. Even when Ethan and I broke up, and he left me the house he had put the down payment on, she didn’t oppose it. The guilt I felt was overwhelming. After I got Scarlett out of the house, I took Mrs. Caldwell on a much-needed shopping spree. We’d always lived so frugally that it felt good to spoil her a little. “You two just got married. You’re going to need money for so many things. Don’t waste it on me…” she protested. “Don’t worry, Mom. Ethan and I are both moving up in our careers. Money won’t be an issue. But next year, we’ll need to head out of town for work. While we’re gone, you’ll need to watch over the house and make sure no one gets in.” At this point, Mrs. Caldwell hadn’t yet realized the full extent of Scarlett’s antics. But based on our past interactions, she knew I had always been the type to put my sister first, what some might call a “sibling servant.” She had tried to talk to Ethan about it many times. Now that I had finally come to my senses, Mrs. Caldwell was relieved. She told us not to worry and assured us that she’d take good care of the house. Before long, just as I predicted, Ethan successfully closed the deal in Savannah. The company didn’t hesitate to promote him, though the new position required him to spend a year at their Savannah branch. Without a second thought, I applied for a transfer to our company’s Savannah office as well, ensuring we’d stay together. Not only would this prevent our relationship from suffering due to the distance, but it also conveniently allowed me to avoid Scarlett’s constant pestering for a while. There was another reason too. From my memories of my previous life, I knew that in a few months, the new industrial park in Savannah would need supplies. In my past life, the deal had fallen into the lap of an unqualified receptionist who didn’t even know how to leverage it. This time, I was prepared. I had all my materials ready, and before they even started looking for suppliers, I was already reaching out, building connections with the procurement team. I even got the proposal pre-approved by my company. Opportunity favors the prepared, and sure enough, a few months later, I secured the deal. The seven-figure commission hit my account just as expected. During that time, Scarlett kept trying to get in touch with me, but I used the “destiny” excuse to dodge her every time. Aunt Rachel would call me now and then, saying Scarlett was still acting crazy, spending all her money on statues and Universal God figurines. She wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t take care of herself, and just kept offering things up, hoping destiny would treat her the way it had treated me. Months later, when destiny didn’t deliver, and things kept getting worse for her, she snapped and burned all her statues in a fit of rage. After that, when she found out we had left for Savannah, she decided to sneak back to our house, thinking she could just slip in. But when she opened the door, there was Mrs. Caldwell, sitting at the table with Ethan’s two aunts, Violet and June, playing cards. Mrs. Caldwell was sharp. She had worked as a high-level manager for a national company before retiring, known in her younger days as a no-nonsense, iron-willed woman. In my past life, out of love for me, she had tolerated Scarlett’s antics so I could focus on my job. She had squeezed into the tiny two-foot entryway, sleeping on a makeshift bed. Scarlett had constantly tormented her, trying every trick in the book to drive her away. Mrs. Caldwell endured it all for my sake, never wanting to cause me any trouble. But this time, with my full blessing, Mrs. Caldwell fought back. Scarlett didn’t stand a chance. She failed every time and couldn’t even get past the front door. And just like that, a year passed. Ethan’s internship was completed, and with my outstanding performance, I applied to return to headquarters to take on a leadership role. Scarlett, however, must have caught wind of something. She was waiting on my doorstep with a three-month-old Logan in her arms, ready to stir up trouble once again…

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