Category: English

My older sister Crystal has a savior complex. She thought our housekeeper was pitiful and wanted me to become her daughter instead. I enthusiastically agreed and went with her that very day to handle the paperwork. Whoever she felt sorry for, she could go be their daughter herself. In this life, she took my place being sold to the countryside and becoming a plaything. “Our housekeeper Mrs. Johnson is so pitiful. Her daughter isn’t even by her side. Why don’t you change your surname and become her daughter?” my older sister Crystal said. I wasn’t surprised at all to hear this from her. Instead, I clapped my hands in agreement. “Sister, you’re such a good person!” That same day, I went with her to handle the relevant paperwork. However, the one who ended up changing surnames wasn’t me, but my sister Crystal. I had secretly swapped the documents, and she didn’t notice at all. After all, she was used to me obeying her every word. When we got home, she started ordering the servants around. “Oh, and starting today, set one less place at the table.” “You’re right, sister. Since you’re no longer part of our family, you really shouldn’t be eating at the same table as me,” I said nonchalantly as I sat down in the main seat and started eating. “Ruby, what nonsense are you talking about? You’re the one who’s supposed to become the housekeeper’s daughter,” Crystal said, glaring at me with a sour expression. “Oh? Sister, did you misunderstand something?” I asked calmly, not even bothering to look at her as I took out the agreement from my bag and tossed it to her. Crystal picked up the agreement and only had to glance at it for a few seconds before her eyes widened in shock. “Ruby, you little bitch! How dare you trick me!” “From now on, we’re changing the rules in this house. I eat at the table, while the housekeeper doesn’t. You can only eat my leftovers. Got it?” I said, looking down at her from my seat. “Ruby, have you gone mad? How dare you talk to me like this? Do you have a death wish? I’m your sister!” Crystal shouted angrily. I took out two identification booklets. “Look carefully. Your registration is no longer in the same booklet as mine. You’re just our housekeeper’s daughter now. If you keep talking back, I might just throw you out.” Crystal has always had a savior complex, feeling pity for everyone she saw. But every time she made a sacrifice, it was always at my expense. When we were little, she saw a beggar on the street and thought he looked lonely and pitiful. So she left me there to be the beggar’s daughter. If our parents hadn’t found me in time, I would have been sold off to some far-off place. In school, she felt sorry for the school bullies because they didn’t have parents around. She hung out with them every day and even brought them home. I was just a child then, and they used me as their punching bag. I nearly lost my life. As she grew older, it only got worse. She sympathized with our housekeeper who had only been with us for two months. “Mrs. Johnson is so pitiful. Her daughter isn’t even by her side. You should go be her daughter.” In my previous life, after I refused, she secretly changed my surname behind my back and forcibly sent me to be the housekeeper’s daughter. She told our parents I was just away on a study trip. In the end, she conspired with outsiders to steal all the money from our family. She even poisoned our parents, causing them both to die from the toxins. She even had me kidnapped and taken to the countryside, where she gave me to the housekeeper’s brother as a wife. I was locked in a cellar for three years, enduring inhuman torture every day. After multiple failed escape attempts, I chose to bite off my own tongue and end my life. When I woke up again, it was to Crystal saying: “Sister, why don’t you go be the housekeeper’s daughter?” This time, I clapped my hands in agreement and took the initiative. I absolutely wouldn’t let her have any opportunity to act against me. I pushed her towards the door. “Mom and Dad will be so proud of you. Don’t worry.” “Crystal, oh, I should call you Jenna Johnson now. If you’re not happy with this, why don’t you go find your housekeeper mom and have her take you back to the countryside?” I said with a cold smile. Crystal stomped her foot and walked away. “Ruby, just you wait. I’ll make you pay for this.” So Crystal went to our parents’ company to plead her case. My heart tightened. In my previous life, Crystal had caused our parents to fall gravely ill. Even with their dying breaths, they were still trying to persuade her to face reality. In this life, I was sure our parents would continue to indulge her. But the result was beyond my expectations. Crystal hadn’t even seen our parents before she was kicked out by the security at the front desk. “The CEO said he only has one daughter named Ruby. We’re not to let anyone else see them,” the guard said. I was overjoyed and rushed to find my parents. The moment I saw them, I couldn’t hold back my tears. “Mom, Dad, I’ve missed you so much.” The three of us embraced, and they said, “Ruby, don’t worry. In this life, we’ll definitely protect you properly.” I looked up at them. As I had guessed, my parents had also been reborn. It was a relief. I had been worrying about how to persuade my parents to see through Crystal’s true nature. Now it was settled – the three of us would get our revenge on Crystal together. She thought she had the biggest heart for others? Well, I’d let her be a good person all the way. She could go take care of Mrs. Johnson’s family in the countryside.

Over the next few days, I found fault with everything Mrs. Johnson did at home. I climbed up a ladder to the top of a cabinet, wiped it with my hand, and showed her the dust. “How do you do your job? You can’t even clean a cabinet properly. Maybe you should just pack your bags and get out.” Mrs. Johnson’s legs trembled in fear. Crystal came to support her. “Ruby, what’s wrong with you? Can’t you see how hard Mrs. Johnson’s life is? She’s already so unfortunate, why are you making things difficult for her?” “Oh, is that so? Then why don’t you clean it instead? It’s not strange for a daughter to help her mother, right?” I said indifferently. If I hadn’t lived through another life, I wouldn’t be so harsh on Mrs. Johnson. But now I knew she wasn’t a good person either. She took a high salary from our family, but not only did she slack off and not do her work properly, she also ordered others around. After she left her job in my previous life, she even slandered our family online. She even encouraged Crystal to sell me to their hometown to be her brother’s daughter-in-law. For someone like her, I wanted to tear her to pieces. “It’s okay, I don’t mind working harder. I have a big family to support at home,” Mrs. Johnson said, wiping away her tears. Crystal became even angrier. “Ruby, you’re going too far. We won’t put up with your attitude anymore.” She stepped forward, about to slap me, but I pushed her away first. Crystal was furious. She helped Mrs. Johnson up and said, “Mrs. Johnson, let’s go. We won’t stay here any longer!” “We just renewed Mrs. Johnson’s contract recently. If you leave now, you’ll have to pay a penalty fee,” I said gleefully. “You… Fine, I’ll pay the penalty fee if that’s what it takes,” Crystal said. With those words, I immediately had people pack up Mrs. Johnson’s belongings and throw them out. Why weren’t there any of Crystal’s belongings? Because everything she owned belonged to our family. She couldn’t take a single thing with her. She still clung to her designer bags, refusing to let go. “These are all mine. Why can’t I take them with me?” I went over with a dark expression. “Miss Johnson, have you forgotten? When you bought these things, your surname was Huang. But now, your surname is Johnson.” Seeing that I wouldn’t budge, Crystal tried to appeal to my emotions. “Sister, don’t you remember? I’m your older sister. I watched you grow up. How can you be so heartless to me? Even if my surname is Johnson now, I’m still your sister.” I shook off her hand. “Sister? You mean the sister who gave away my things for free to a bunch of good-for-nothings from childhood to adulthood?” “Or the sister who falsely accused me of stealing?” Once, there was a thief at school who stole many things. To protect her friend, Crystal publicly accused me of being the thief in front of everyone. She even hid her belongings in my schoolbag. I was isolated and insulted by everyone. It wasn’t until later that I found out the real thief was Crystal’s classmate. To protect her, Crystal had lied and said I was the thief. “How can you be so petty? That was so long ago. I just felt sorry for them. You should have some compassion too,” Crystal said, rolling her eyes disdainfully. “Yes, you have the biggest heart. No one’s heart is bigger than yours. So now, please leave,” I said, pointing to the open door. “You… Mom and Dad would never allow you to kick me out. Stop putting on an act,” Crystal said, crossing her arms confidently. The next moment, our parents walked in. “Your mother is that housekeeper outside. Don’t call the wrong person.” Crystal’s eyes widened. “Mom, Dad, how can you be like this too? Didn’t you always teach me to be kind to others?” “We taught you to be kind, but we never taught you to help bad people. Don’t try to pin this on us,” our father said sternly. “What good people or bad people? You’re just prejudiced against them. They’re more pitiful than anyone else. If you won’t help them, I will!” Crystal said angrily as she pushed past our mother and walked out. Crystal took Mrs. Johnson’s hand affectionately and said, “Mom, let’s go. From now on, I’ll be your real daughter.” Mrs. Johnson smiled at her, but for some reason, it sent chills down my spine. I sent a lawyer to claim compensation from Mrs. Johnson for breaching the contract. Crystal probably emptied out all her savings. She sent me a message: [Ruby, just you wait.]

Sure enough, a few days later, Mrs. Johnson posted a video online claiming that we had abused her, treated her as less than human, and humiliated her. When she worked as our housekeeper, she had earned quite a bit of money and gained many followers by bragging about working in a mansion. Now, all her followers began to speak up for her. “Just because you’re rich, you think you’re better than everyone else?” “What’s wrong with a housekeeper working honestly? Why look down on her?” In this life, Mrs. Johnson directly exposed photos of our family and our home address. Many angry people came to throw rotten eggs at our front door. “My dear sister, are you scared now? This is just the first step,” Crystal called me as soon as she saw the online comments. It was clear that she had been the one to suggest this idea to Mrs. Johnson. “Heh, sister, don’t end up outsmarting yourself,” I replied. After waiting for the comments to reach a certain number that evening, I began my counterattack. I registered a new account called “Exposing Housekeeper Johnson’s True Face”. It contained footage from security cameras, recording various scenes of Mrs. Johnson working at our house. She used instant meal kits instead of cooking properly, picked up food that had been licked by dogs and continued to use it, and touched food with her hands right after scratching her bottom. Every detail was enough to make one lose their appetite. The videos she posted online were nothing more than staged performances. And this was just the first step. The tone of the netizens’ comments clearly changed. “Oh my god, I wouldn’t even dare to buy such dirty food from a street vendor.” I then released another video showing how Mrs. Johnson, relying on Crystal’s favoritism, deliberately oppressed the other housekeepers. When we weren’t home, she acted like the mistress of the house, verbally abusing the other housekeepers, bossing them around, and taking credit for their work. “Pah, a lousy housekeeper dares to eat the same food as me? Know your place,” Mrs. Johnson said in the video. This thoroughly angered the netizens.

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Liam was my husband. We had been married for five years, and our love was as strong as ever. Until I received an anonymous video: a man’s head was bashed in, his face a bloody mess, with several stab wounds on his body. If it weren’t for the custom-made diamond ring on his ring finger, even I wouldn’t have recognized Liam. At this moment, I was lying with my back to “Liam”, desperately trying to stifle any sound. Who, then, was sleeping beside me? “Nora, why aren’t you asleep? Is the wound hurting again?” The gradually dimming phone screen reflected Liam’s expressionless face. He stared at the phone, his neck craned at an awkward angle. I stiffened but quickly turned to hug him, whispering, “It’s nothing. I’m just feeling a bit upset about the baby.” Liam and I had been married for five years. My mother-in-law, Martha, had been urging us to have a child. I had helped Liam start his business from scratch, but the constant drinking and late nights at social events had taken a toll on my health. For the past two years, I had been trying to recover my health, and finally got pregnant. But just two months ago, the doctor told me that the baby’s heartbeat was extremely unstable. They diagnosed it as a genetic defect syndrome. Giving birth would not only be irresponsible to the child but also pose a huge risk to my safety. The doctor recommended termination. And just like that, my first baby left this world. Liam reached out and stroked my face. His expression was hidden in the darkness, unreadable. His fingers were ice-cold, sending a shiver of fear through me as they traced my skin. “Honey, did you forget to take your medicine today? You know Mom specially got it prescribed by the doctor.” Liam and I both loved children dearly, and losing the baby had left me with depression. I had quit my job to rest at home. Liam’s voice was so gentle it could almost wring water. He got up to heat some milk for me. Watching his back, my thoughts lingered on the terrifying sensation of Liam’s fingers on my face. Remembering the gruesome scene in the video, my body involuntarily shuddered, causing me to drop my phone. As I bent down to retrieve it, I suddenly caught a whiff of a very subtle formaldehyde smell. The screen’s light illuminated my horrified face. There was a dead infant under the bed. It was curled up, preserved in formaldehyde solution, its pale face turned towards me. Suddenly, its tightly closed eyes opened, staring straight into mine. Then its mouth twisted into an eerie smile. My whole body trembled, goosebumps erupting on my arms. Overwhelmed by fear, I felt my body go limp. In my panic, I turned around only to see Liam standing at the door with a glass of milk, smiling at me.

When I regained consciousness, it was already noon the next day. “Nora, you’re finally awake. Are you feeling any discomfort?” Liam sat by my bedside, looking at me with concern. Ignoring him, I immediately got out of bed and pulled out the jar from underneath. The glass had shattered, but instead of the dead infant I saw last night, it was a small figure wrapped in bloody bandages! “Impossible, I clearly saw… it even smiled at me…” I panicked and stumbled backwards, only to be caught in Liam’s embrace. “Oh no, who broke the jar?!” An elderly woman rushed in, first complaining, then wailing as she cradled the jar. “My poor grandson, can’t even rest in peace after death…” “Mom, what’s going on? Who told you to put this thing under our bed?!” Liam scolded his mother while gently comforting me. I stared blankly at her wrinkled face, only connecting her to my mother-in-law when Liam spoke. My condition seemed to have worsened recently. My memories of everyone were just blurry fragments, even their faces seemed covered in a layer of sand, impossible to recall clearly. “The house is haunted, so I found a spiritual healer,” she said. “We can’t let it interfere with my grandson’s birth!” She had been looking down, speaking hesitantly at first. But then she glanced at me, her tone turning disdainful and louder, as if intentionally speaking for me to hear. “Alright, Mom, that’s enough. Don’t upset Nora,” Liam urged his mother to leave, his tone annoyed. “What I saw last night wasn’t a small figure…” I said, my fear growing. No matter how I tried to explain, Liam insisted I had just had a nightmare. “Honey, where’s my phone?” I suddenly remembered the video, wanting to show it as proof. But Liam’s expression turned strange. He unlocked his phone and held it up to me. “You mean this video?” ! “How did you know?” I felt scared, backing away step by step. Liam sighed, “You’ve watched this video many times already. Every day you suspect that I might be dead.” “I know losing the baby was a huge blow to you. You’ve developed depression and prosopagnosia.” “But this is just a video. I’m standing right here, alive and unharmed.” I stared intently at the ring on Liam’s finger, suddenly deflating. Perhaps I really was too stressed out. “I’ll be here to help you get better, trust me, okay?” “We’ll definitely have our own child someday.” Liam’s last sentence sounded like comfort, but I detected something odd in it. He kissed my forehead and walked towards the door. “Nora, I’m going to buy your favorite roast duck.” I watched him leave, trying to recall last night’s events. To my horror, I realized that my memories were all fragmented, and even Liam’s face was starting to blur. “Nora, come on, it’s time for your medicine.” Martha appeared at the door with a cup of medicine just as Liam left. “Am I taking the medicine this early today?” I looked at the time, feeling confused. After all the strange occurrences, I didn’t want to take the medicine, even if Liam said it would help my condition. But Martha just stood there holding the cup, staring at me intently. She looked very eager. “Mom, you can leave it here. I’ll drink it in a bit.” Martha reluctantly put down the cup and left, repeatedly reminding me not to waste it. I stared at the dark brown liquid, a thought flashing through my mind. Why had my symptoms gotten worse after taking this medicine for so long? Could there be something wrong with the medicine? As I picked up the cup, debating whether to drink it or not, I caught a glimpse of something in the full-length mirror by the wardrobe. The door was slightly ajar, and Martha’s pale face was pressed against the crack, expressionlessly staring at me.

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My husband, Gregory, cheated on me with his cousin, Tina. After she had his child, he immediately filed for divorce. On the day the divorce waiting period ended, I sent him a medical report congratulating him on becoming a dad. Upon receiving the report, he completely broke down. “Samantha, explain to me what’s going on!” I replied, “Do I really need to tell you that you have a fertility issue and can’t have kids?” I met my husband, Gregory Hill, during a college club event. He fell head over heels for me and quickly began pursuing me. Eventually, I was moved by his sincerity and passion, so I agreed to be with him. Over the four years of college, we developed a deep bond and promised to marry after graduation, but my parents didn’t approve. After all, I was an only child from a wealthy family in a big city, well-loved and spoiled. Gregory, on the other hand, came from Appalachia. He didn’t have a comfortable upbringing or strong connections; he worked hard to earn his way to college in the city. To marry him, I was willing to clash with my parents and even threatened to cut ties with them. Eventually, my parents relented, fearing I’d struggle without their support. They agreed to the marriage and gave me a house and a car as a wedding gift. Gregory was ambitious and capable. He started his own business right after graduation, but faced numerous obstacles in the early days. His small company was on the brink of collapse due to a lack of stable funding. Seeing that his business was about to fail, I made the decisive choice to sell the house my parents had given me to provide him with startup capital. We moved into a cramped, damp one-bedroom apartment. For me, this hardship was nothing; I was just happy to be with Gregory. Gradually, his business began to improve, and we moved into a newly bought house. We lived a simple yet happy life for two years, but Gregory and I had been unable to conceive a child. It was strange; ever since his company stabilized, we hadn’t intentionally avoided pregnancy. We thought if I became pregnant, we’d just have the baby since we could financially support it now. However, I still hadn’t gotten pregnant, so I decided that Gregory and I should go get checked out. His company was growing, and he was so busy managing everything that it took a while for him to carve out time to accompany me to the doctor. After the checkup, Gregory rushed back to work, leaving me to wait for the results. When the results came in, I was utterly stunned. I was in good health, but Gregory had a fertility issue. Sitting alone on a hospital bench, I felt dizzy and didn’t know how to face this reality. This explained why we hadn’t been able to conceive in two years of marriage. But Gregory was very prideful, and I feared that learning the truth would devastate him. Moreover, my parents already disapproved of our marriage; if they knew Gregory couldn’t have kids, they would surely pressure me to divorce him. So, I planned to keep this a secret. If it came to it, we could always adopt later. That evening, when Gregory got home from work, he asked, “What did the tests say? Is there a problem?” I smiled gently and replied, “No, we’re both fine. The doctor said pregnancy is a matter of chance; as long as we take care of our health, exercise, and avoid late nights, it will happen eventually.” Gregory nodded with a neutral expression. “That’s good.” Although he didn’t say much, I could tell he wasn’t entirely satisfied with this outcome. After that day, we didn’t mention the baby issue again. I had just been promoted to a supervisory position at work, and with my increased responsibilities, I had even less time to think about it.

One day, when I came home from work, Gregory surprised me by cooking dinner. I guessed he might want to discuss something important. I was right. He told me he wanted to bring his mom and cousin, Tina, to live with us. Initially, I was reluctant. With more people in the house, there would inevitably be conflicts and tensions. Moreover, managing the mother-in-law and daughter-in-law relationship was already challenging; adding a cousin into the mix felt overwhelming. But Gregory insisted, “My dad passed away when I was young, and my mom worked hard to raise me alone. Now that I can support her, I can’t leave her in the small town. Besides, Tina’s parents passed away, and she has always relied on us. I’ve always considered her like a sister.” So, I reluctantly agreed to let them move in. Before long, my mother-in-law and Tina arrived, dressed simply and exuding an air of humility. “You must be Samantha! It’s been so long since I’ve seen you!” my mother-in-law said warmly, rushing over to shake my hand. I felt a bit overwhelmed. I responded politely but distantly, “Mom, you both can settle in comfortably here. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” “Absolutely!” my mother-in-law nodded eagerly, while Tina seemed indifferent. Tina was 20 years old and, though she dressed plainly, it was clear she was a pretty young woman. According to Gregory, Tina hadn’t gone to college after high school because his mom needed help at home, so she stayed to care for her. Tina was diligent, jumping right into chores and cooking as soon as she arrived. However, she didn’t seem to like me very much. Sometimes, she’d be laughing and chatting with Gregory one moment, and then her face would drop the second she saw me. Today was Sunday, and after my shower, I went to my bedroom to change. On my way back to the bathroom, I noticed my recently changed underwear was missing. “Mom, did anyone come to the bathroom just now?” I asked my mother-in-law, who was watching TV in the living room. “Oh, Tina went in a bit ago,” she replied. I walked over to Tina’s room and knocked on the door. “Tina, did you see my underwear that I just changed out of?” Tina appeared unhappy and said, “I washed them.” Washed them? In just a few minutes? “Did you hand wash them for me?” I asked, surprised. “Not at all. I just tossed them in the washing machine with the other clothes,” she pouted. “What? You can’t just throw them in the washing machine! That’s so unsanitary!” I exclaimed as I hurried to stop the washing machine. Inside, I found all of our clothes mixed together, including socks, along with my recently changed underwear. That set was from a pricey brand my friend abroad had sent me, and it was barely worn. Now, not only was it dirty, but it was also wrinkled and ruined by the washing machine. Fuming, I confronted her, “I didn’t ask you to wash my underwear! Who washes their underwear with everyone else’s? Don’t you realize how unsanitary that is?” To my surprise, she didn’t back down and shouted back, “It’s just a worn-out underwear set! What’s the big deal? Besides, when Gregory was living at home, didn’t his underwear get washed with mine?” I was so stunned; I didn’t expect Tina to have such a bad attitude, even calling her brother by his name. My mother-in-law rushed in, hearing our argument, and instead of calming things down, she took Tina’s side. “Samantha, don’t be upset. Tina is still young and doesn’t understand. As a sister-in-law, you should be more tolerant,” she pretended to be the good guy while protecting Tina. I was at a loss for words, and feeling like I shouldn’t create family drama, I turned to Tina and said, “Fine, just apologize to me and we can move past this.” Tina remained unfazed, and it took several cues from my mother-in-law before she reluctantly said, “I’m sorry!” Then she turned and slammed the door behind her. I stood there staring at my mother-in-law, who continued to defend Tina. I waved my hand, indicating there was no need for more discussion; it was over.

I thought that what happened today was just a minor incident, but it turned out to be just the beginning. Tina seemed to be intentionally provoking me; each time she did laundry, she would take Gregory’s clothes and wash them separately, deliberately leaving mine behind. I didn’t want to get into it with her; she was just a sheltered girl and didn’t know better. However, my tolerance didn’t dissuade her annoying behavior; in fact, it made her bolder. One day, I noticed some of my cosmetics had gone missing. Given there were only a few of us in the house, it was obvious who took them. While Gregory was in the living room chatting with my mother-in-law, I marched straight into Tina’s room. I heard a loud scream, “What are you doing? Samantha, are you out of your mind?” There she was, wearing a revealing tank dress, barely concealing her modesty. I yanked open the drawer of her desk and found my missing cosmetics lying inside. I held up a bottle of foundation and approached her. “What is this?” She feigned indifference and replied, “It’s foundation. What’s the problem?” I couldn’t help but laugh in frustration. “I know it’s foundation! More importantly, I know it’s my foundation!” “That’s nonsense! This is mine!” she stubbornly defended. I smirked, “Oh really? What brand is it? What shade? Which counter did you buy it from?” She fell silent, glaring at me with daggers. At that moment, Gregory and my mother-in-law heard the commotion and rushed in. Tina, upon seeing Gregory, immediately leaped into his arms, completely disregarding what she was wearing. “Greg, this woman is accusing me of stealing her stuff! You have to stand up for me!” she said, feigning tears. Gregory gently rubbed her back and comforted her softly, “It’s okay, don’t cry. I’ll figure out what’s going on.” Then he turned to me, “Samantha, is there some misunderstanding? Tina isn’t like that.” I let out a scoff. “Misunderstanding?” I held the foundation up for them to see. “I have this little habit where I write the date on the bottom when I open a new cosmetic. You can check for yourselves.” When they looked at the bottom, they saw the small date I had written, and their expressions turned awkward. Gregory spoke first, “Samantha, Tina probably just thought these were new and interesting. After all, she hasn’t seen this kind of stuff in Appalachia. I’ll apologize for her. Please don’t be upset.” My mother-in-law added insincerely, “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t raise her properly; you can blame me!” This whole family was acting so put upon that it made me look like the villain. I felt incredibly frustrated and said, “Just have her return all my things, and I won’t argue with you!” Tina reluctantly handed the items back to me. Seeing her sulking, Gregory consoled her, “Don’t be sad. I’ll buy you new stuff tomorrow, the best and most expensive.” Hearing this made me both sad and infuriated. My husband was siding with his sister for her wrongdoings and disrespecting me. I was at my wit’s end and retreated to my room.

Not long after, Gregory came into my room. “Samantha, I know you’re upset, but Tina has lived in a small town her whole life and hasn’t seen much. She’s really quite innocent and pitiable,” he said. I didn’t respond, unwilling to engage in this pointless conversation. Seeing I wasn’t reacting, he continued, “I know we’re from different backgrounds, and you might have some biases. But I hope you can look at our years of feelings and give me some grace. Can we just let this go?” Gregory’s words sounded condescending to me, and I was so annoyed I didn’t want to say anything to him. Noticing my silence, he left the room. The next day, true to form, Gregory bought Tina a bunch of expensive cosmetics, but he also got me something. This time, he didn’t say any passive-aggressive remarks but instead held up a new designer bag, soothingly telling me not to be upset. Seeing his sincere attitude, I decided not to dwell on the issue any further. In the afternoon, Tina saw the bag Gregory had bought for me and grew incredibly jealous, saying, “Ugh, relying on a man isn’t a real accomplishment.” I shot back, “I’m your sister-in-law; please speak respectfully! Instead of being jealous, why don’t you think about how to improve yourself?” After I said that, Tina fell completely silent, though I could see her eyes rolling in disdain. Maybe my words struck a chord; she began to learn how to do makeup and dressed up more, going out every day. One night, seeing her heavy makeup and a dress so short it might as well be nonexistent, I kindly warned her, “It’s late; you shouldn’t be going out alone.” “Why do you care? What gives you the right to tell me what to do?” she replied dismissively. I was irritated and snapped, “Tina, please remember your place. I’m your brother’s wife, your sister-in-law!” She just scoffed, as if I were a joke, and ignored me as she walked out. I felt my temples pounding in anger. My mother-in-law had gone to bed early, and Gregory was out of town for work, so no one was around to keep an eye on her. Forget it; I didn’t need to get worked up over this. The next morning, just as I was heading out to work, I ran into Tina, who had just come home.

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I supported my girlfriend through college, but she used my credit card to “support” a poor student at her school. Later, I canceled her card. She came to confront me: “You think you’re so great just because you have a few bucks? I don’t need your money.” If you don’t need it, why don’t you give the card back to me? My girlfriend, Sarah, sent me a message asking: “Baby, can you increase my living expenses a bit more?” I found it strange. Sarah wasn’t the type to spend money recklessly. In the past, if I tried to give her money, she would scold me for insulting her with money. But I didn’t think too much about it. Maybe the school needed to buy something? I immediately doubled her living expenses and told her to let me know if she needed money. Sarah received it and sent a “kiss” emoji, then disappeared. That strange feeling came over me again. Lately, my girlfriend only contacted me for money and never chatted about anything else. I thought maybe I had been neglecting her because of my busy work schedule, so I planned to surprise her at her school tomorrow. But I never expected the surprise to turn into a shock. Previously, Sarah had said she didn’t want her roommates to know she had a boyfriend who didn’t go to college but had money, or else they would spread rumors that she was being kept by someone. So whenever I visited her at school, I went as her brother. When I was about to reach her dormitory building, I saw her hugging a male student and walking away, laughing. I felt an icy coldness in my heart. I immediately sent Sarah a message asking what she was doing now. Sarah quickly replied: “Studying in the library.” Looking at the couple walking out of the school gate in front of me, my heart sank to the bottom.

I had seen this man before. During the summer vacation, Sarah and I went to Hawaii together. She went to the bathroom to apply sunscreen, and I waited outside. Her phone, left on the bed, lit up, and I saw that she had changed her lock screen photo to a picture of a guy. At the time, I didn’t pay much attention because she liked to follow celebrities, and they were all this type of guy, so I thought it was just another minor celebrity. Now it seems they were already involved at that time, and she was bold enough to change her screen lock. I also saw that guy sending her a message saying he didn’t have enough money. When I asked Sarah what wasn’t enough money, she was very calm and said that the school was holding a competition and didn’t have enough funds. She was the student council president, so she was in charge of the money. Later, she dragged me out to go swimming, and I forgot about it when we got back. My feelings were really complicated. Sarah and I had been together since high school. Back then, she was often bullied because people said her family was poor. I couldn’t stand it and stood up for her once. From then on, Sarah followed me every day, and slowly we got together. I didn’t get into college and went back to inherit the family business. She did very well in her exams, so I supported her through college. In high school, she was such a timid girl. How could she change so much in just three short years? I called her again that night, but no one answered. Very late, almost eleven o’clock, she finally sent me a message saying she had just returned to her dorm from the library. She also said she would come to see me tomorrow and had a gift for me, telling me to look forward to it. I really wanted to see what kind of trick she was going to pull.

I couldn’t sleep that night. I remembered that my friend’s new girlfriend was also from that school, so I asked him to help me find out about that guy. My friend, hearing about my situation, felt very sympathetic and sent me a lot of information within half an hour. That guy was known as a handsome “grass-roots” guy at school. He was good-looking but poor, and also a scholarship student. He was also in the student council and was very close to my girlfriend. People at school assumed they were a couple. The guy had pretty good grades at school and won the Inspirational Scholarship every year. Last year, he even became the school’s campus ambassador. However, this guy also had some bad reviews. Most of the girls who had dated him said he was quite a jerk, always asking the girl for money. If the girl said she had no money, he would immediately use cold violence to force a breakup, then seamlessly move on to the next one. Another point was that this guy loved playing games, and probably spent most of his money on games. As luck would have it, I had a very high rank in the game he played. I asked my friend if he had the guy’s contact information. My friend immediately sent a string of numbers. I searched and felt the avatar was familiar, like I had seen it in a game group I had joined. I went back to the main page and searched, and we were indeed in the same game group. He was quite active there. I thought for a moment, created a small account to join the group, posted a screenshot of my game rank, @ed him asking if he wanted to play together, then casually added him as a game friend and went to sleep.

When I woke up the next day, that guy had indeed accepted my friend request and asked if the game screenshot I posted in the group was my own. I said, “If you don’t believe me, why don’t I carry you for a couple of games?” While my girlfriend hadn’t arrived yet, I played games with him for an hour. After seeing me get MVP in every game, he treated me like his own brother. I looked at the time and remembered that my girlfriend would usually arrive at my place around this time, so I told the guy we’d play again next time. He replied, “Sure thing.” A moment later, my girlfriend also sent me a message saying she was at my doorstep. I went to open the door for her and felt a bit strange seeing her dressed up like a rich lady. In the past, if I bought her a dress, she would scold me for wasting money. Seeing me in a daze, my girlfriend playfully hit me. “What are you thinking about? Let me in.” I turned and walked back, and she called out from behind me, “Hey, why aren’t you helping me change my shoes?” I ignored her and walked straight to the sofa to lie down. My girlfriend changed her shoes herself and complained while carrying bags of things. “You’ve changed. You don’t care about me anymore.” I glanced at her and forced a smile. My girlfriend might have noticed my low mood and didn’t want to be too enthusiastic. She got angry with me. “What are you doing? I said I’d come to see you today, and you’re giving me the cold shoulder.” “You don’t deserve the gift I prepared for you.” At the mention of a gift, I became a bit interested. In our three years of dating, she had only bought me something once or twice, and that was when she needed something from me. The first time was when she bought me a lighter, then said her brother had gotten into a fight and was in jail, asking if I could help bail him out. The second time was when she bought me a tie, saying her parents wanted to help her brother with a down payment for a house, asking if I could help a bit. She said she would definitely pay me back and even insisted on writing an IOU. This time, was it her brother in trouble again?

Seeing my expectant face, my girlfriend thought I was going to comfort her. She “hmph”-ed and ignored me. I flipped through her so-called gifts and opened a pair of Nike sneakers. But I already had this same model, and obviously, the size was two sizes smaller than mine. They didn’t look new, more like second-hand. Seeing me put the gift aside indifferently, my girlfriend immediately exploded. “What do you mean? You think you’re great because you have money? I know you look down on me. I’ll never buy you gifts again.” I sneered, “The size is wrong. Are you sure you bought it for me?” My girlfriend looked to the side guiltily and quickly put the shoes back in the bag. “Well, I bought the wrong size! Do you have to be angry with me about this? This is my heartfelt intention, something money can’t buy.” As if to end this topic, my girlfriend immediately picked up another bag. “Look, I made you sunny-side-up eggs!” I looked at the porridge. Wasn’t this the “love breakfast” that guy had posted on Instagram earlier? What, she couldn’t finish it so she brought it to me? I showed no interest and didn’t even look at it. “I don’t want to eat.” My girlfriend finally exploded, yelling at me for half an hour, saying I wasn’t like this before. I fell asleep listening to her nagging. When I woke up, my girlfriend was gone. My phone had also received a message from her: “I won’t forgive you.”

After that, my girlfriend never contacted me again, but she still used the joint account I had set up for her as usual. I turned off the joint account and canceled her card. Immediately, my girlfriend sent me a message: “You’re despicable.” What? I became despicable just because I stopped giving you money? I ignored her and continued working. After just three days, my girlfriend came to reconcile. I looked at my girlfriend standing miserably at my doorstep, seemingly with a handprint on her face. As soon as she saw me, she pitifully burrowed into my arms and said tearfully, “My parents are asking me for money again.” After crying for a while and seeing that I wasn’t saying anything, she added, “Can you help me?” I thought for a moment, pulled her out of my arms, and said seriously: “It’s not that I don’t want to help you. My company is having financial difficulties recently. Why don’t you pay back the money I lent you before to help me out?” My girlfriend immediately stopped crying and stammered, “Where would I get money from?” “I give you so much money every month, you haven’t saved any?” My girlfriend changed the subject, saying there were many places at school that needed money. I could only shake my head regretfully. “Then there’s nothing I can do. I’m out of money too.” Hearing that I had no money, my girlfriend widened her eyes and asked how that was possible. I didn’t say anything, and my girlfriend came to nuzzle me, crying, though there seemed to be few tears on her face. “Please help me. If you don’t help me, my parents will come to the school. Then the whole school will know my family is poor.” Didn’t my girlfriend used to say in front of me that although she was materially poor, she was spiritually rich? Who possessed her now? I still didn’t agree, and my girlfriend probably didn’t believe I really had no money. She fell asleep crying on my sofa, feeling secure. At this time, her phone left on the table lit up. Looking at my girlfriend sleeping soundly, I opened her phone and saw her chat history with that guy. There’s only one word to describe it. Sugar mommy. What? I thought you were just cheating with someone else, I didn’t expect you to be playing sugar mommy. Using the money I gave you to be a sugar mommy to a junior, you’re really playing it big. That guy seemed quite good at flirting, sending abs photos and private photos frequently. My girlfriend didn’t look like the poor little white flower she pretended to be in front of me; in front of this guy, she was clearly a rich and beautiful sugar mommy. I looked and saw that my girlfriend had gotten together with him a month ago, and had transferred at least 100,000 to him back and forth. My girlfriend was particularly proud, saying she had an uneducated rich boyfriend who was a big fool. That guy praised my girlfriend for being so charming, reminding her to ask me for more money. So I was just a part of your play? If before I was just going to punish my girlfriend a little, now I was really heartbroken. Three years of feelings in her eyes were just being a big fool. Not going to college in her eyes meant I was uneducated and not worthy of her. Even feeding a dog for three years wouldn’t bite people like this. Since you’re not being kind, don’t blame me for being unkind.

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Because my family was poor, my mom gave me to my aunt and kept my sister with her. Later, I followed my aunt into business and became a successful person that everyone envied. My sister, however, seduced my husband out of jealousy. To get my property, she even planned to burn down my villa. But unexpectedly, the fire was too big and we both perished in it. Living life again, my sister was the first to jump out and want to be my aunt’s daughter. I smiled, it was exactly what I wanted. I jolted awake, finding myself in a familiar room. The pain of being burned alive was still vivid in my mind, yet my body bore no scars. Before I could gather my thoughts, there was a knock at the door. I heard my aunt’s voice. As I listened to my mom and aunt talking, I realized with clarity: I had gone back in time. In my previous life, at this moment, Aunt Sarah and her Japanese husband were planning to move to Japan. Before leaving, Aunt Sarah came to say goodbye to our family. Aunt Sarah was discussing with my mom that our family’s financial situation was too strained to raise two children, and she wanted to adopt one of us to take to Japan. This time, I didn’t burst out of the room like I did in my previous life. Instead, I stayed quietly inside, listening. Aunt Sarah asked, “Which one of them do you want to come with me to Japan?” My mom made the same choice as before, “Let Zoe go with you. She’s a good girl.” But this time, Lily immediately interrupted, “Why should Zoe get to go and enjoy a better life? I want to go!” Mom tried to persuade Lily, “Lily, dear, Mommy would miss you too much. Let Zoe go.” Lily became agitated, “Mom! Are you stupid? Why should Zoe get all the benefits? If I establish myself there, I can bring you over later to enjoy a good life too.” Mom hesitated, “Well…” Hearing that she might be able to enjoy a better life through Lily, Mom was visibly tempted. Seeing Mom’s hesitation, Lily became desperate, “Mom, if you don’t let me go, I’ll kill myself right now!” “No, no, no, my darling daughter. Mom agrees, you can go.” I hid behind the door, listening to this mother-daughter duo fantasizing about their bright future, and almost laughed out loud. A good place? Don’t be foolish! Survival itself would be a challenge. I knew Lily had also gone back in time, just like me. In my previous life, she saw me make big money through investments and buy a villa, thinking it was all because I had gone to Japan and struck gold. Little did she know that what she saw was just the glamorous surface. Only I knew what kind of inhuman treatment awaited in Japan.

I pushed the door open at the right moment. Lily looked at me as if facing a formidable enemy. Aunt Sarah looked at me hesitantly, “Zoe, do you want to come with me?” I shook my head silently. Lily turned back and glared at me fiercely, then suddenly knelt down and hugged Aunt Sarah’s legs. “Auntie, my dear Auntie, please take me with you. My sister has always been naughty and disobedient, not like me who’s so well-behaved. I promise I’ll take good care of you in the future.” Seeing Lily’s determination, Mom swallowed her sadness and chimed in, “Yes, our Lily is very filial. Please take her with you.” Aunt Sarah, still not giving up, came to my side and asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to go? Life with me will be a thousand times better than here. Don’t you want to live a comfortable life?” I stepped back and refused, “Auntie, I don’t want to go live in Japan.” Aunt Sarah, seeing that I was so difficult to persuade, had no choice but to say, “Well then, I’ll take Lily.” Lily’s eyes lit up, and she sweetly held Aunt Sarah’s hand, calling her “Mom.” This “Mom” made me feel sick. I secretly glanced at my mom, who turned away, her eyes filled with sorrow. As Aunt Sarah was leaving with Lily to handle the paperwork, she couldn’t help but mock me, “You don’t know what a great opportunity you’re giving up. No matter how hard you try, what future can you have in this poor, backward place?” I laughed coldly in my heart. I knew why Aunt Sarah wanted me. Because I was more obedient and prettier than my sister, and after coming of age, I would be an obedient money-making machine. Lily was overjoyed that she could go to Japan. These days, she couldn’t stop gloating and mocking me. “Zoe! I’m about to change my destiny and become someone important, while you’ll be stuck here as a nobody for the rest of your life.” I tried to contain the joy in my heart and pretended to ask innocently, “How can just going to Japan make you someone important?” Lily laughed at me, “Silly! I’m going to enjoy a good life, and also…” She lowered her head and whispered in my ear, “I might even find a handsome and rich Japanese husband!” After saying this, Lily looked at me as if I were an ant, as if she were the one who had gotten a golden opportunity. I smiled slightly and sincerely wished her, “Then I hope all your dreams come true.”

The paperwork was quickly completed. On the day of farewell, Mom was particularly reluctant to let go of Lily’s hand, reminding her to keep in touch and not forget her birth mother. Lily impatiently shook off her mother’s hand, “Alright, I know, you’re so annoying. Don’t you know international calls are expensive? Don’t contact me unless it’s really important.” Mom’s eyes turned red after being yelled at, but she remained silent. This submissive expression made my heart ache. In my previous life, I didn’t want to go at all, but Mom couldn’t bear to part with Lily and was eager to send me away. When I left home, I cried and begged Mom to change her mind and let me stay. Do you know what she said? Oh, she counted the money Aunt Sarah gave her and said, “Once you’re gone, don’t come back. Just send money in the future, or I won’t acknowledge you as my daughter.” Hah! How ridiculous. She heartlessly gave me away, and legally, I was no longer her daughter anyway. After seeing Lily off, I was overjoyed inside. My dear sister, are you ready to go to hell? This time, I finally don’t have to live a life worse than death like in my previous life. After returning home, Mom looked at me with disdain and said, “I don’t see any use in you studying. You might as well quit school and get a job. You’ll end up getting married sooner or later anyway.” I couldn’t help but feel sad. Mom had never liked me. When she was pregnant with me, everyone said it looked like a boy, and she told everyone she was having a son. Unexpectedly, when I was born a girl, Mom rolled her eyes and nearly fainted from anger. Although Dad was also a bit disappointed, he didn’t dislike me because of it. But Mom started hating me from the moment I was born, saying I had killed the son who should have been born, that I must be an evil girl. Lily was overjoyed, knowing that if there was another brother, her position would be threatened. From a young age, Lily joined Mom in bullying me. I fought back and even complained to Dad, but all I got was a beating. After Dad fell ill and passed away, Mom became even more unrestrained. If it weren’t for the government subsidies she could get by keeping me, she would have abandoned me without hesitation.

Not long after my sister left, Mom couldn’t wait to make me drop out of school and get a job. I couldn’t quit school. I knew clearly that knowledge could change one’s fate. I subtly coaxed Mom into believing that I would definitely get a job after I became an adult, while secretly studying hard. My homeroom teacher told me that the school had a scholarship spot. If I could get it, I could go to college for free. I knew this was my only chance, so I studied even harder. Every night, after Mom fell asleep, I would secretly light a candle to study. Although life was tough, it was heaven compared to my previous life. Perhaps even heaven favored me, and I finally got the scholarship. The teacher wanted to share this good news with my family, but I shook my head and asked her to keep it a secret. Mom, in order to prevent me from going to college, deliberately didn’t let me go to the interview. I remembered that in my previous life, Lily went to an expensive but terrible school. At that time, Mom was willing to sell everything to pay for Lily’s tuition at that awful school, but now she wasn’t willing to let me go to college. But it didn’t matter anymore. I was going to leave this place, leave this suffocating environment. I still secretly went to the interview. When Mom was running around with a stick looking for me, I had already boarded the train to college. The travel expenses were given by Uncle Zhang, my dad’s old friend. I told him I would definitely pay him back tenfold in the future. Uncle Zhang waved his hand and said with sympathy, “You’re a poor child. Go, and don’t come back.” College life was wonderful. Although what I ate and wore couldn’t compare to my classmates, I was already very satisfied. Calculating the time, Lily should have met Kenji Suzuki, my husband from my previous life. I think she would definitely seize the opportunity and beg him to take her away. Ridiculous. How could she think that Japanese man was good? She had no idea that in my previous life, I only went with Kenji Suzuki to escape from Aunt Sarah. Kenji Suzuki looked gentle and handsome on the surface, but he was actually a thorough domestic abuser. Lily thought Aunt Sarah would love her like her own daughter, but that wasn’t the case at all. Aunt Sarah married that old Japanese man just to get a green card and engage in illegal activities in Japan. As soon as I arrived, I was forced to train in some disgusting Japanese phrases to please men, and that old Japanese man in Aunt Sarah’s house was a pervert who often made me wear bunny ears and a maid outfit to dance in front of him. Countless times I wanted to run away, but I was unfamiliar with the place and couldn’t even speak the language, so I had no idea who to ask for help. After I came of age, Aunt Sarah made me entertain clients at her factory. It was then that I knew what despair was. Under the neon lights of debauchery, I lived a ghost-like life every day, like a broken doll. Until Kenji appeared. He knew some Chinese and asked if I wanted to go with him. I had no choice but to nod. I thought my life would get a little better, but I didn’t expect to fall from one abyss into another. Kenji had violent tendencies. After I went with him, he would beat me every few days, which later developed into beating me every day. When he was in a good mood, I learned Japanese from him. I endured humiliation and hardship to make a living, washing dishes, carrying heavy goods, and countless times sleeping on the street to avoid being beaten. Later, I finally found a chance to return to my country. Suddenly, I wonder how far Lily can persist?

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Just as I was about to divorce Sarah and get back with Jessica, BAM, I died! Now, anyone who comes to my grave has to spit on it and say, “Jerk! Got what he deserved!” At my funeral, I sat next to my own body, trying to figure out how exactly I died. My wife, Sarah, was calm and composed, greeting the guests, bowing to each of them, and politely sending them off. She had said she loved me for seven years, but not a single tear had fallen. Turns out, love really can fade away. That’s when my ex, Jessica, arrived. She threw herself onto my casket, sobbing uncontrollably. Her tears were like a waterfall, and the guests around her were moved to tears too. Even I couldn’t help but cry. “Jessica, it’s over for us in this life. Maybe in the next one, we’ll reunite. I’ll be waiting for you in the afterlife.” Sarah wasn’t having any of it, though. “Jessica’s acting is really over the top, huh? Who exactly is she putting on a show for? He’s dead.” Sarah’s icy stare was fixed on Jessica, full of contempt, as if she were looking at an enemy. Jessica wiped her tears, still looking as delicate as ever. “I know you hate me. You think I stole Chris from you. But I was with him first—you’re the one who came later.” Sarah smirked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “And yet, here you are, and there he lies. If your love was so strong, why didn’t it last?” Damn, Sarah was harsh. Was she really cursing Jessica to die too? Sure enough, Jessica, heartbroken, collapsed on my casket, crying as if the world had ended. “I want to go with him, but I still have my parents to take care of. Chris, wait for me. I’ll come to you in a few decades.” She was crying so miserably, yet her assistant, Rachel, just stood there scrolling through her phone without a care in the world. I had always said that Rachel should be fired. Unable to bear Sarah’s mockery, Jessica quickly left. I really didn’t want to leave her, and Sarah’s cold face wasn’t helping, so I followed Jessica out. But by the time I caught up, Jessica had already dried her tears and was checking her makeup in a mirror. She was even giving instructions. “Did you get the photos and videos? Make sure I look good—delete the ugly ones.” Rachel was busy flipping through her phone, deleting the bad shots one by one. All the pictures were of Jessica sobbing over my casket, looking utterly heartbroken. “Don’t worry, Jess. I’ve captured your best angles. We’ll release a video about your tragic love story. It’ll blow up for sure.” Jessica smiled. “Good. This is what they call ‘tragic love.’ Kids these days love a good, sad love story. So what if Sarah married him? After all these years, dead or alive, I’m the only one he truly loved.” Rachel chuckled, “Exactly. Sarah was the third wheel in this relationship.” Jessica wasn’t sad anymore; she was beaming. “Chris was useless when he was alive, but at least in death, he can serve one final purpose. He should be grateful to me for that.” “Absolutely, Chris would totally thank you,” Rachel added. Me: … Thank you? Are you kidding me? Jessica continued rambling, “So what if Sarah loved Chris for seven years? She’s still got nothing to show for it. Some men are just like that. They always think someone else’s trash is treasure.”

After Jessica’s car drove off, I was still floating there, staring dumbfounded in the direction she left. Just a month ago, Jessica swore she couldn’t live without me. I’ve only been dead for a short while—how has the world turned upside down? Lost in thought for who knows how long, I suddenly found myself back in the house I shared with Sarah. She had set up a small memorial for me, with a smiling picture of me at the center. Sarah was wiping the dust off my photo, her smile full of mockery. “It took me forever to find a photo of you smiling. You always had that serious look, but when you were with Jessica, you smiled all the time.” I remembered now. In the seven years I’d known Sarah, she always wanted a nice photo of us together. But every picture we took, I had a stern expression. I told her I didn’t like smiling. If she didn’t like it, tough luck. But the truth was, I just couldn’t smile around her. Even after seven years apart, the one I loved was always Jessica. I waited for her for a year, and when I found out she was seeing someone else, I quickly accepted Sarah’s confession. It was like I was competing with Jessica. I moved in with Sarah and married her in a flash. “You’ve regretted marrying me every second, haven’t you?” Sarah was talking to my photo now, her face still calm, not a single tear. I used to think she wasn’t upset, but looking at her now, I started feeling guilty. It was like she was questioning me, and after seeing Jessica’s true colors, I started to reflect on my past. “No, we had good times together. Don’t you remember…” I tried to say. I wanted to give her examples, but for the life of me, I couldn’t recall any happy moments. Sarah kept talking to herself, “The first month with you was wonderful. It felt like a dream.” “You’d come home late, but you’d always bring me flowers. They weren’t lilies, which I love, but I was happy all the same.” Was she really happy back then? I couldn’t remember, because during that time, Jessica was constantly flaunting her new relationship on Instagram, and I was seething with jealousy. Every night, I’d buy a bouquet of roses, hoping to see Jessica and tell her that she belonged with me, that her new guy didn’t deserve her. But I never had the courage. I’d just wait outside their apartment until late, then go home feeling crushed. Every time I came home, Sarah was waiting for me. I’d lie, saying I had to work overtime. I’d apologize, hand her the roses, and tell her it was the last bunch from the florist, which was why they didn’t look as fresh. In a daze, I remembered that Sarah had been so happy then, smiling like a little girl. But the truth was, I had been lying to her all along. She never knew. If she had known, she wouldn’t have said those were happy times. “I always knew you were lying.”

I couldn’t understand. If Sarah had known I was lying, why didn’t she ever confront me or get angry? Why would she still say those times were happy? “I knew you were lying, but I didn’t say anything because I thought, as long as you were willing to put in the effort to lie, it meant you still cared. You still wanted to keep our relationship alive.” “You kept going back to Jessica because you couldn’t let go. I thought you’d figure it out and come back to me eventually.” Sarah sat on the couch, quietly staring out the window. On all those nights I came home late, this was how she waited for me—full of hope and disappointment. God, I was such a jerk. Sarah sat there all day, not eating or drinking, saying nothing. Watching her lose her spark, I grew anxious. I circled her, trying to wake her up. “Sarah, I’m not worth it. Please, get some rest. Eat something. Don’t do this to yourself.” But I was already dead. No matter what I said, she couldn’t hear me. I regretted it so much—why didn’t I cherish her love when I was alive? The day after the funeral, Sarah finally moved. Michael came over. I knew Michael had always liked Sarah. I wasn’t sure if she knew. Michael was her colleague. They stayed in touch a lot after she joined the company. I remember going to pick Sarah up from a company dinner once. Michael’s look and body language made it clear—he liked her. After that, I didn’t let Sarah spend much time with Michael. I even suggested she switch departments to avoid him. Sarah was my wife. Even if I didn’t love her, she was still mine, in name at least. No other man had the right to touch her. But now I was dead, and Michael couldn’t wait to swoop in? Even though Sarah knew I didn’t love her, she wouldn’t stay faithful to a dead man. I was in pain. I wanted to leave. I didn’t want to stick around and watch her get close to another man. Michael brought a thermos and looked at Sarah with concern. “I knew you hadn’t eaten. Sarah, don’t do this to yourself. You’ll only make yourself sick, and he wouldn’t care.” “He’s probably waiting for his next romantic soulmate right now.” He laid out the food, and I peered in, scoffing. None of it was what Sarah liked. She didn’t eat spicy food, didn’t like sweet stuff, and hated fish. For years, there hadn’t been a single pepper or fish in our house. The only exception was when crabs were in season. Michael claimed to like her, but he didn’t even know what she enjoyed eating. What a joke. I felt smug. No way he’d win her over with this. He wasted his time coming. But Sarah sat down, picked up the chopsticks, and smiled. “This is all my favorite food. Thank you, Michael.”

Sarah ate the Buffalo wings, sweet and sour pork, and the steamed salmon. “You haven’t eaten all day, and now you’re having so much meat and fish. Aren’t you worried you’ll upset your stomach?” I was pacing around, getting more and more irritated the happier she seemed as she ate. “We’ve been together for years, and you never told me you liked this kind of food. Every time we ate together, you said you didn’t like spicy, sweet, or fish dishes. Were you lying to me? Or is it just that it tastes better because Michael brought it? My urn is still sitting right there, and you’re already moving on this fast?” Sarah finished her meal, leaned back, and gave a contented sigh. “It’s been years since I’ve enjoyed food like this. Thank you, Michael.” Michael sighed too. “You changed your entire diet for him. Was it really worth it?” I was dumbstruck. “For me?” Memories started flooding back. I remembered when Sarah and I first met—back then, she was full of life, always laughing, and she loved food. She ate spicy food, sweet things, and fish. She even had a bit of a sweet tooth, and every time we went out, she’d grab a bunch of snacks.

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Zach’s childhood friend, Bella, created an influencer account. She took advantage of my absence, sneaked into my room, entered my computer password, and copied all of my paid freelance writings to her phone. Then, she posted everything online for free. Overnight, she gained thousands of followers. The next day, when I confronted her, she smirked, “Ava, did I make so much money that you can’t even afford food anymore?” Zachary walked into the room while I was in the middle of a heated argument with Bella. To be fair, it wasn’t much of an argument—Bella was the only one talking. I realized she was acting completely irrational, like someone out of a psychiatric ward, and reasoning with her was impossible. “If you can make money writing freelance, why can’t I run an influencer account?” “Ava, did I make so much money that you can’t even afford food anymore?” I started off furious, but my anger slowly faded as I listened to her insane ranting. It was like dealing with someone unhinged. Bella had been Zach’s neighbor when they were kids. According to him, she was a sweet, innocent little sister figure who moved to Los Angeles after graduation to start her job. Since she didn’t know many people in the city, Zach suggested she stay with us temporarily until her internship ended. “Ava, it’s only for three months. Just think of it as doing me a favor.” At first, I didn’t agree. I mean, who wants to live with a stranger? But then I thought about my own early days in LA, feeling lost and overwhelmed. If I could help someone avoid that struggle, why not? After all, it was just three months. I didn’t even charge her rent, but I ended up inviting trouble into my home. One time, Bella’s laptop broke, and she was desperate to finish a project. She was crying, and I felt sorry for her, so I lent her my computer. I never bothered to change the password afterward, and that’s when the trouble started. When Zach arrived, Bella instantly transformed from a venomous snake into a sweet, innocent girl. She lowered her damp eyelashes and sniffled, “Zach, there are lots of influencer accounts out there. Why is Ava so upset with me? Doesn’t she love influencer marketing?” Zach stood there silently for a moment, a frown creasing his brow. “Normally, influencer accounts don’t post entire articles from the original writers. That’s…,” he hesitated, searching for the right words, “… pretty impolite.” I almost laughed. Immoral and impolite? Are those the same thing now? Bella hung her head. “Alright, I was wrong.” She took a deep breath and then raised her face back to that fake, sweet expression. “How about I treat you both to dinner? Consider it an apology to Ava.” An apology? Who does she think she’s fooling? Sitting back on the couch, I smiled and said, “Bella, first, you need to delete all the videos you posted. Then, you need to return the money you made from your posts. And finally, issue a public apology.” “That’s what an apology looks like.” Bella looked at me in disbelief, her voice rising in frustration. “Ava, you’re going too far!” Going too far? I almost laughed. I calmly pulled up my phone’s photo album and handed it to her, showing her a video. Bella’s face immediately froze. Zach, still clueless about what was happening, came over to take a look. Within minutes, his expression darkened, disappointment etched across his face as he stared at Bella. The video showed everything Bella had done in my room when I wasn’t home. She didn’t just steal my work; she wore my clothes, used my skincare products, spat on my bedsheets and pillows, and even swiped some of my jewelry. I had suspected Bella for a while, but without proof, there wasn’t much I could do. It didn’t take long for my new security camera, installed just three days ago, to capture all her antics. It’s always the ones closest to you. Bella blushed, tears welling up in her eyes as she looked at Zach. “I… I didn’t…” But she couldn’t even finish her sentence. Furious and flustered, she grabbed my phone and deleted the video, then tossed the phone onto the couch, glaring at me defiantly. I smiled, amused by her misplaced sense of victory. “It’s fine, Bella. I’ve got plenty of backup videos. If you don’t meet my demands, I’ll just take this to the police. After all, theft is theft, and the evidence is solid.” I paused for effect and then added, “The Tiffany & Co. necklace you stole isn’t worth that much. But having a criminal record over it? That might be a bit too much to handle, don’t you think?” Bella’s face flushed red with shame. After some hesitation, she finally gave in, deleting the videos, returning the money she had made from the influencer account, and posting a public apology. As for the Tiffany necklace, Bella claimed she had already listed it on Facebook Marketplace for three hundred bucks. … Well, no big deal. She’d just pay me back the original price.

Here’s the fully localized translation of the passage into the U.S./American context: Zach’s childhood friend, Bella, created an influencer account. She took advantage of my absence, sneaked into my room, entered my computer password, and copied all of my paid freelance writings to her phone. Then, she posted everything online for free. Overnight, she gained thousands of followers. The next day, when I confronted her, she smirked, “Ava, did I make so much money that you can’t even afford food anymore?” 1 Zachary walked into the room while I was in the middle of a heated argument with Bella. To be fair, it wasn’t much of an argument—Bella was the only one talking. I realized she was acting completely irrational, like someone out of a psychiatric ward, and reasoning with her was impossible. “If you can make money writing freelance, why can’t I run an influencer account?” “Ava, did I make so much money that you can’t even afford food anymore?” I started off furious, but my anger slowly faded as I listened to her insane ranting. It was like dealing with someone unhinged. Bella had been Zach’s neighbor when they were kids. According to him, she was a sweet, innocent little sister figure who moved to Los Angeles after graduation to start her job. Since she didn’t know many people in the city, Zach suggested she stay with us temporarily until her internship ended. “Ava, it’s only for three months. Just think of it as doing me a favor.” At first, I didn’t agree. I mean, who wants to live with a stranger? But then I thought about my own early days in LA, feeling lost and overwhelmed. If I could help someone avoid that struggle, why not? After all, it was just three months. I didn’t even charge her rent, but I ended up inviting trouble into my home. One time, Bella’s laptop broke, and she was desperate to finish a project. She was crying, and I felt sorry for her, so I lent her my computer. I never bothered to change the password afterward, and that’s when the trouble started. When Zach arrived, Bella instantly transformed from a venomous snake into a sweet, innocent girl. She lowered her damp eyelashes and sniffled, “Zach, there are lots of influencer accounts out there. Why is Ava so upset with me? Doesn’t she love influencer marketing?” Zach stood there silently for a moment, a frown creasing his brow. “Normally, influencer accounts don’t post entire articles from the original writers. That’s…,” he hesitated, searching for the right words, “… pretty impolite.” I almost laughed. Immoral and impolite? Are those the same thing now? Bella hung her head. “Alright, I was wrong.” She took a deep breath and then raised her face back to that fake, sweet expression. “How about I treat you both to dinner? Consider it an apology to Ava.” An apology? Who does she think she’s fooling? Sitting back on the couch, I smiled and said, “Bella, first, you need to delete all the videos you posted. Then, you need to return the money you made from your posts. And finally, issue a public apology.” “That’s what an apology looks like.” Bella looked at me in disbelief, her voice rising in frustration. “Ava, you’re going too far!” Going too far? I almost laughed. I calmly pulled up my phone’s photo album and handed it to her, showing her a video. Bella’s face immediately froze. Zach, still clueless about what was happening, came over to take a look. Within minutes, his expression darkened, disappointment etched across his face as he stared at Bella. The video showed everything Bella had done in my room when I wasn’t home. She didn’t just steal my work; she wore my clothes, used my skincare products, spat on my bedsheets and pillows, and even swiped some of my jewelry. I had suspected Bella for a while, but without proof, there wasn’t much I could do. It didn’t take long for my new security camera, installed just three days ago, to capture all her antics. It’s always the ones closest to you. Bella blushed, tears welling up in her eyes as she looked at Zach. “I… I didn’t…” But she couldn’t even finish her sentence. Furious and flustered, she grabbed my phone and deleted the video, then tossed the phone onto the couch, glaring at me defiantly. I smiled, amused by her misplaced sense of victory. “It’s fine, Bella. I’ve got plenty of backup videos. If you don’t meet my demands, I’ll just take this to the police. After all, theft is theft, and the evidence is solid.” I paused for effect and then added, “The Tiffany & Co. necklace you stole isn’t worth that much. But having a criminal record over it? That might be a bit too much to handle, don’t you think?” Bella’s face flushed red with shame. After some hesitation, she finally gave in, deleting the videos, returning the money she had made from the influencer account, and posting a public apology. As for the Tiffany necklace, Bella claimed she had already listed it on Facebook Marketplace for three hundred bucks. … Well, no big deal. She’d just pay me back the original price. 2 When Bella finally moved out, she couldn’t resist throwing one last jab at me, saying I was “obsessed with money.” I lazily glanced at her, unimpressed. “Well, it’s better than being obsessed with bad decisions.” She glared at me, clearly running out of things to say. It wasn’t long before she posted on Instagram Stories. The picture showed her standing on a balcony at sunset, gazing dreamily into the distance, her hair blowing in the wind. The caption read: “Grateful for my brother’s help. Excited for what the future holds.” I knew that balcony. It was Zach’s. The sick feeling in my stomach made me shiver. Gross. Why did he even send this idiot my way in the first place? What a joke. I sent Zach a text, asking what the hell was going on. A few minutes later, he called, sounding nervous. “Ava, Bella had to move out quickly. It’s hard to find a place, and I couldn’t just let her be homeless.” His words felt like an accusation, like I shouldn’t have kicked her out. I’ve heard of guilt-tripping before, but never like this. I asked, “Are you seriously telling me there are no hotels in Los Angeles?” Zach sighed. “It’s not safe for a young girl to stay in a hotel. Ava, Bella is young and made some mistakes, but she knows she was wrong. Can’t you just let it go?” I was speechless. One of them steals things, the other one twists reality. They truly deserve each other. “Zach, Bella may be five years younger than me, but I wasn’t doing any of that at her age. And I definitely wasn’t living in another woman’s boyfriend’s house.” I paused for a second before continuing, “Let’s break up.” The silence on the other end was deafening. I hung up the phone without waiting for a response. Honestly, I’d been planning to end things for a while now. Bella ended up paying me back the five grand she owed. I had a pretty good idea of who really paid it, but I didn’t care. As long as the money made it into my account, I was happy. As for Zach? He wasn’t worth keeping around. We had met through our parents. His dad and mine had gone to school together and realized during a reunion that both of their kids were living in LA and single, so they exchanged our numbers. After a while, Zach and I started dating. At first, he seemed like a hidden gem—quiet, serious, and occasionally showing flashes of brilliance. But this whole mess showed me the truth: he wasn’t a gem at all, just shattered glass—ugly, broken, and useless. I know nobody’s perfect. I could deal with Zach being passive and indecisive. But I couldn’t handle him doing nothing while I was being attacked. Even when faced with evidence, he never once stood up for me. Like a piece of rotting wood stuck in the mud, impossible to shape, impossible to rely on. And most of all, I couldn’t handle his loyalty shifting towards another woman. Dense? Maybe. Biased? Definitely. But I wasn’t going to waste my life on a man like that. After the breakup, Zach tried calling me repeatedly, even sending long, emotional texts. I didn’t bother reading any of them. I just blocked him. One night, I got a call from an unknown number. The person on the other end was clearly drunk and slurred, “Ava, did you… did you really… get with some rich guy?” I paused, feeling both annoyed and amused. “Nope, just not interested in guys who can’t measure up, in any sense of the word.” Zach was silent for a moment before angrily hanging up. He knew why we broke up, but admitting his mistakes was hard. Blaming others? So much easier. Recently, I’d taken on a new project, and the whole team had been working non-stop, burning the candle at both ends. Finally, after two exhausting weeks, we were done. I stretched in the office, feeling the satisfaction of a job well done. The year-end bonus was all but mine. Suddenly, my phone buzzed. It was Sienna, sending me a photo. It showed Zach and Bella at a fancy restaurant, looking way too cozy, staring into each other’s eyes with enough passion to make anyone nauseous. Sienna added, “Girl, you dodged a bullet! That guy moved on so fast it makes me sick!” Honestly, I felt nothing. My emotions were as calm as if I were looking at a couple of strangers on the street. I replied, “Doesn’t matter. The ones who want to leave can’t be stopped. The ones who stay won’t go anywhere.” As I wandered through the city streets, the night breeze cooled the last traces of summer warmth, whisking away the remnants of a relationship that no longer mattered. At least, that’s how I saw it.

The project wrapped up beautifully, and the boss, understanding how hard the team had worked, gave us a few extra days off to rest after we finished the final touches. I had been completely exhausted, so I was sound asleep at home when a sudden knocking at the door startled me awake. I opened it to find Zachary standing there. His eyes were bloodshot, his face flushed, and the strong smell of alcohol hit me as he leaned against the doorframe, looking down at me with a crooked smile. “Ava, long time no see.” I eyed him warily. “What are you doing here?” Zach didn’t answer. Instead, he tried to step inside, but he was too drunk, his whole body slack like a pile of dead weight. Without hesitation, I kicked him right out the door. I slammed it shut behind him. From outside, I could hear Zach’s voice, hoarse and repetitive, like a dog barking. He kept yelling, begging me to open the door, to talk to him, to give him another chance. People show their true selves when they’re drunk, and Zach, who had always seemed like the quiet, decent type, was really just a player at heart. I couldn’t help but feel thankful that I got out when I did. It was 11:30 p.m., and all my neighbors were probably asleep. Zach’s raspy voice echoed down the hall, shattering the peace. “If you don’t leave right now, I’m calling the cops!” I shouted through the door. There was a brief silence, followed by a dismissive scoff. “Ha! I don’t believe you.” Fifteen minutes later, the police arrived. By the time Bella showed up to collect him, Zach had sobered up enough to be quiet, his head hanging in shame. Bella, on the other hand, glared at me with open hatred, her voice dripping with disdain. “Ava, are you some kind of witch? Why can’t you leave my boyfriend alone? Why do you keep haunting us?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “If your boyfriend wasn’t showing up at my door in the middle of the night, begging me to take him back, do you think we’d be in this situation?” “You…!” Bella’s lips trembled as she shot Zach a disappointed look, then turned back to me with venom in her eyes. “Don’t kid yourself. He’s only here because you took so much money from him, and he came to get it back!” I froze for a second. The police officer raised an eyebrow. “Took money?” Bella snatched Zach’s phone from his hand and scrolled through the messages and transactions. She shoved the phone in my face, showing a list of all the money Zach had spent on me over the past six months: holiday gifts, dinner tabs, plane tickets, hotel bookings—every little thing. “Ava, now that you and Zach are over, don’t you think you should return everything he bought for you? Stop mooching off my boyfriend!” The officer’s expression was hard to read, somewhere between sympathy and disbelief. He looked at me, unsure whether to feel sorry for me or relieved that I’d dodged a bullet. I shook my head with a wry smile. Then, I pulled out my own receipts—fancy belts, watches, wallets, and more that I’d bought for Zach. “Fine, let’s settle this, then. We’ll add everything up.” The comparison didn’t even require a calculator. It was obvious who had spent more on whom. Bella was livid, especially when she realized Zach was still wearing the suit and shoes I had bought him. Her face flushed an angry, deep red. She exhaled sharply and sneered, “So, you’ve been paying for him all along?” Finally, Zach spoke up, nodding in my direction with a defeated look. “Yeah, she paid for everything.” At that moment, I had no interest in continuing this ridiculous conversation. Looking at them was like looking at a disaster waiting to happen. I didn’t want to waste any more energy. I accepted the officer’s suggestion for mediation and, before leaving, requested a copy of the police report. As I stepped out into the early morning light, the streetlights were already starting to dim, and the night sky was giving way to dawn. Bella had thrown Zach’s shoes and jacket into a nearby trash can. He stood there on the curb, shivering in his socks and shirt, waiting for a ride. As I walked past, I heard Bella muttering under her breath, all of her words aimed at me. It was clear that Zach had come to me on his own, yet somehow, Bella twisted everything to make me the villain. Whether she was fooling herself or completely clueless, I had no idea.

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My niece was slandered by a male classmate at school. However, my sister-in-law insisted on using an encouraging educational approach to resolve the issue, turning enemies into friends. She greatly praised the boy: “Auntie wants to thank you for looking after our Lily at school. I heard that whenever she’s bullied, you stand up for her. You’re such a little gentleman.” Later, the boy’s behavior escalated. My niece was dragged to a grove after school, humiliated by multiple people, and ultimately chose to end her life by jumping into a river. When I tried to seek justice for my niece, I was pushed into traffic by my sister-in-law and the boy, crushed to death by a truck. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day my niece asked me for help. The phone rang abruptly, startling me awake. It was my niece calling. I was in the United States at the time. Looking at the clock on my phone, it was daytime here, but late night for my niece back home. My hands trembled as I answered the call. Hearing the familiar voice on the other end, I suddenly snapped back to reality. “Aunt Evelyn, I haven’t done anything wrong, but there are boys in my class who keep bullying me,” my niece said in a hurt tone that made my heart ache. “They’ve given me a nasty nickname. They call me ‘cow’ and say my chest is so big because lots of men have touched it. They even offer to ‘introduce’ me to guys for free.” It was at that moment I realized I had truly been reborn. In my previous life, I had fainted at my niece’s funeral, staring at her black and white photo, her sweet voice calling me “Auntie” still echoing in my ears. After regaining my composure, I had decided to seek justice for my niece, only to be pushed into oncoming traffic by my sister-in-law and that boy, crushed to death by a truck. I never imagined I would return to this point. My niece continued crying: “I mentioned it to Mom once. She said it was because I dress too provocatively, that’s why the boys treat me that way.” “She even called me a slut who deliberately tries to attract attention.” Lily was an excellent student, top of her class. But she was going through puberty, with acne and some baby fat, which was perfectly normal for her age. However, the boys in her class had started vicious rumors about her body. I remembered how in my previous life, my sister-in-law Sophia had always looked at Lily with disdain. I often heard her degrading comments: “How did I end up with a daughter like you? You look nothing like me – fat and ugly, worse than a pig. What good is being a bookworm?” “Besides, it takes two to tango. If there wasn’t something wrong with you, why would those boys only pick on you and no one else?” Later, as Sophia did nothing to intervene, the rumors about Lily spread like wildfire. Even the teachers at school started to believe them. My brother worked away from home most of the year, absent from his daughter’s upbringing. Lily reached out to everyone for help, but no one believed her. I was the only one, far across the ocean, who encouraged her to fight back bravely, to report it to the authorities. I promised I would come back and stand up for her, to help her get justice. But before I could finish my studies and return, Lily developed depression from the constant pressure. She ended up jumping into a river to end her life. Before she died, she left me one final message: “Aunt Evelyn, life has been so exhausting. Mom and Dad don’t love me, they even hate me. If that’s the case, why did they bring me into this world?” “Aunt Evelyn, in my next life, I want to be reborn as a cat by your side. I want an owner who loves me, to feel the warmth of being held in someone’s arms…” I broke down in tears when I saw it, immediately booking the next available flight home. When I arrived, I learned that Sophia was pregnant. Not only was there no trace of sadness on her face over Lily’s death, she even seemed joyful. She didn’t even attend Lily’s funeral, saying the dead were inauspicious and would harm her precious son. She was about to happily welcome a new child, while my dear niece lay buried in the ground. Now, faced with my niece’s plea for help, I responded firmly: “Don’t cry, Lily. If they won’t look after you, I will!” “Don’t be afraid. I’m coming back right now to stand up for you.” This time, to prevent tragedy from repeating, I flew back early. Holding Lily’s hand, I went straight to confront Sophia. Sophia had always been a pampered wife. She married my brother right after college, controlling his salary and never experiencing the harshness of society. She dressed up extravagantly every day, while dressing Lily in rags. She didn’t even give Lily clean school uniforms – the poor girl had to wash them herself every weekend when she came home. Whenever Lily was home, Sophia acted like an absentee landlord. Not only did she make Lily do mountains of housework, but she also had Lily prepare her three meals a day. Usually, housework was done by a part-time maid. Sophia only cared about eating, drinking, and having fun, never lifting a finger. When she first married into the family, Sophia had said: “I came to your family to be treated like a princess, not to suffer. After all, I never did anything at home – my parents waited on me hand and foot.” I returned earlier than expected, catching Sophia off guard. “Why are you back so soon?” she asked in shock. My face was cold as ice. “If I didn’t come back now, my niece might be strangled to death at school while you sit by and do nothing. I’m afraid I wouldn’t even have a chance to claim her body.” In my previous life, when Lily became the target of vicious rumors, Sophia, who adored men, insisted on using an “encouraging” approach to resolve the issue. She wanted to turn enemies into friends through kindness. Not only did she personally buy gifts and bring them to the school, she even fawned over the boy spreading the rumors: “Auntie wants to thank you so much for looking after our Lily at school. I heard that whenever she’s bullied, you stand up for her. You’re such a little gentleman. At such a young age, you’re already so responsible. Any girl who marries you in the future will be very lucky.” Encouraged and validated, the boy became even more unrestrained. Later, as the rumors intensified, Lily was dragged to a grove after school, humiliated by multiple people. This became the final straw that broke her. I clenched my fists. “Sophia, Lily is being bullied at school. Have you ever stood up for her even once? You don’t care at all about what happens to her at school!” At this moment, Sophia pouted, her eyes brimming with tears. “If you put it that way, then I really have no way to explain myself.” “Lily dresses so provocatively at such a young age, deliberately trying to seduce men. No wonder people criticize her. I’m just trying to educate my own child – what do you know about it?” I nearly laughed in disbelief, eyeing her new dress. “Well Sophia, I see you’ve kept yourself in great shape. You’re even more alluring than those young girls.” “Walking down the street in such a short skirt, if some random guy lifted it up, I suppose that would just be a testament to your charms. You should be proud, right?” Sophia flushed with embarrassment and anger, stomping her foot: “Evelyn, what nonsense are you spouting? Your brother likes me dressed this way. Stop trying to drive a wedge between us!” “This is my freedom to dress how I want. If other people want to look, how can I control their eyes?” I snorted in disdain: “Oh, so you understand the concept of freedom of dress, Sophia? Tell me, how exactly is Lily dressed provocatively?” “And accusing Lily of seducing men – maybe you’re the one desperate for male attention. After all, my brother is away from home so often. It must be hard for you, lonely night after lonely night.” Sophia trembled with rage, pointing a shaking finger at me. “Don’t you dare slander me! I gracefully accept admiring glances as recognition of my beauty. Lily is far too young – she’s just a hormonal teenager in heat!” Throughout this exchange, I had kept a firm grip on Lily’s hand. She remained silent the whole time. I couldn’t be bothered arguing with Sophia’s hypocritical logic any further. I turned and took Lily shopping for new clothes. We got rid of the old uniforms that clung to her like a straitjacket, and contacted the school to order new ones custom-made. I even applied for a teaching position at her school. With my overseas qualifications, I easily got the job. This time, no one would dare bully my precious girl. Lily was in Class 3 of 7th grade. I specifically requested to teach Class 3, taking over as their English teacher and homeroom teacher. After all, in my previous life, when this incident occurred, not only did that teacher fail to criticize the boys, she even subtly mocked Lily. She was utterly unfit to be an educator. Most ironically, that kind of person was even awarded “Most Beautiful Teacher.” Though the school leadership felt it was inappropriate, they agreed in order to retain talent. On my first day, I immediately spotted the boy who had spread those vicious rumors. He had yellowed teeth and was chewing gum, his eyes carelessly scanning the skirts of the girls in the front row. From time to time, he would rub his chin, whispering and laughing with the boys next to him. I coldly glanced at the class roster. His name was Ryan Thompson. He had three older sisters and was the spoiled baby of the family, clearly a pampered brat with no discipline. Just as Lily sat down, he gave her shoulder strap a hard tug, grinning maliciously. “Hey cow! Which guy did you sleep with this weekend? How come your uniform got bigger? Looks like you’ve been well-nourished and filled out even more!” Lily flushed with shame and anger. But Ryan brazenly unhooked the back of her uniform. “Wonder when I’ll be lucky enough to service you and contribute to your development.” His voice was low, but full of provocation and mockery. The surrounding students heard and stifled their laughter. “Yeah, what’s the use of good grades when you’re such a slut?” Lily clutched her loosened uniform, furious and on the verge of tears. She was about to retort when she broke down crying instead. She had always been introverted and quiet. I knew she was no match for these despicable boys. So, just as I finished introducing myself, I strode down from the podium with a cold expression, heading straight for Ryan. In the next instant, I, a black belt in Taekwondo, grabbed Ryan’s hand and slammed it hard on the desk. He sucked in a sharp breath of pain. “Ow! Teacher, are you here to teach martial arts?” He stared at me in shock and fear. I smirked coldly. “Such a foul mouth. Did you rush out this morning and have breakfast in the toilet? Some people are naturally gifted academically. Did you think everyone has a brain full of garbage like yours? If those soft tissues in your head are useless, you might as well take them out and use them for hotpot – at least they won’t go to waste.” “And the rest of you, you think it’s hilarious, don’t you? How would you feel if someone publicly lifted your clothes or pants? Would you still be laughing then?” I swept my gaze over the stunned students, continuing loudly: “Using someone else’s reputation as a joke for your own amusement – are you students or the scum of society?” “By the way, spreading false rumors can be prosecuted as defamation. That’s the first lesson I’m teaching you today!” “Today you’re mocking and teasing Lily Moore. What if one day rumors are spread about you, and others look at you with colored glasses? Put yourself in her shoes – wouldn’t you feel hurt?” “It only doesn’t hurt because the knife isn’t stabbing your own body.” After all, they were just middle school students. Their skin was still thin, and several girls who had laughed earlier now hung their heads in shame. But Ryan rubbed his hand, still looking unconcerned. He even snorted disdainfully. “Fine, you win. I’ll remember this, Miss.” I knew a little tyrant like him wouldn’t give up so easily. But I was prepared to face anything. Most of the students were won over by their new teacher. They became attentive in class, the room so quiet you could hear a pin drop. That evening back in my dorm, I received a call from Ryan’s mother. Before I could speak, I heard yelling from the other end: “Miss Moore, you’re throwing your weight around as a new teacher, taking out your temper on my son! Using my son as a scapegoat to establish your authority – you must feel so smug.” I calmly responded, “Mrs. Thompson, your son was the ringleader in spreading vicious rumors about a female student. As an educator, I was simply setting things right.” The parent on the other end scoffed. “My son is the most obedient and sensible child. If that girl hadn’t done those filthy things, how could there be such rumors? You can’t favor students with good grades just because my son’s academic performance is average!” “If my son suffers any psychological trauma from this, can you take responsibility?” She continued smugly: “As a teacher, when faced with students like my son whose grades are average, you should use an encouraging approach. That’s the only way to bring out students’ potential.” I raised an eyebrow, not expecting someone to share Sophia’s mindset. How could I not fulfill your wishes? I smiled coldly as I spoke: “I understand what you mean. Don’t worry, I promise I’ll make you satisfied.” Seeing me back down, the tone on the other end became even more triumphant. “It’s good that you understand, Miss Moore. After all, you’re new to teaching and inexperienced. It’s normal. In the future, you should listen more to us parents’ opinions. It will help you improve.” I hung up the phone and immediately contacted my friend at the print shop, asking her to rush an overnight job for me. The next day after school, I had people hang an extra-long banner right at the school gate. All the passing parents and students saw it. The red background with white text was very eye-catching: [Warmly congratulate Ryan Thompson of Class 3, Grade 7, for maturing early and growing strong by spreading vicious rumors about female classmates, truly becoming a real man!] I had given Lily a hidden voice recorder earlier, instructing her to secretly record Ryan’s slanderous comments.

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Every girl who comes to the Glitter Nightclub to relax is unaware that there’s a pair of eyes watching them from above. The chosen girls will become “dolls” for the rich that very night. And I’m the driver responsible for transporting these beautiful “dolls”. Today is my first time transporting a beautiful “doll”, and Manager Thompson has assigned Old Bill to show me the ropes. In the rearview mirror, I catch a glimpse of Old Bill’s hand kneading the woman’s full, perky chest. The woman leans against the car window with her eyes closed, her fair face flushed red, looking completely drunk. This woman is so shameless, I think to myself. Old Bill’s hand has slipped inside her underwear, yet she keeps her eyes closed, seemingly enjoying it without making a sound. I’m both envious of Old Bill’s good fortune and utterly disgusted by these women who sell their bodies for money. A month ago, I was hired as security for the Glitter Nightclub. The probation period salary was $500, with a promise of $1000 after becoming a regular employee. Today, I just became a regular employee. Only then did I realize that the doubled salary was for doing this kind of work. They call these women “dolls”. Rich men wait at hotels, and we’re responsible for transporting the “dolls” to them. Although this job isn’t exactly honorable, it’s easy and pays well. I’m just the driver, not the one selling myself, so it’s none of my business. I graduated high school and went straight into the workforce. I’ve worked in factories and construction sites. All the jobs I’ve done before were more tiring than this one. I still cherish this job quite a bit. Old Bill, that old pervert, is getting more and more out of hand. Not satisfied with just touching, he’s now eagerly sucking away, the sound of his slurping making my mind wander. We hit traffic, and I turn my head to look at the scene of debauchery in the back seat. “Old Bill, how much did this woman drink? She’s still not waking up?” Old Bill chuckles, “Don’t worry, she won’t wake up. Brother, check the GPS, how much longer will we be stuck?” I glance at the navigation, there’s about a three-kilometer red line. “Probably about ten minutes of traffic.” “That’s enough, hehe.” Old Bill stands up, unbuckling his belt and pulling out his thing. Damn, his guts are too big. He’s going to do it right here. “Old Bill, isn’t this going too far? The client wants her, and you’re playing with her first. If we get caught, my job…” “Buddy, I know what I’m doing. I won’t really do it, just letting you feast your eyes.” I want to stop him, but Old Bill has already taken off the woman’s top, put on a condom, and started enjoying himself. The woman still has her eyes closed, her red lips slightly parted, occasionally letting out a faint moan. She really is like a living doll that can be manipulated at will. Old Bill, that quick shooter, finishes in less than two minutes. He tidies up the woman’s clothes, takes out a cigarette, lights it, and hands it to me. “Brother, if you ever need anything at Glitter, just ask me.” Taking Old Bill’s cigarette, I don’t say anything. This world is truly bizarre. We soon arrive at the hotel booked by the client. The three of us get into the elevator together. The woman still appears unconscious, relying entirely on Old Bill’s support to walk. Out of the elevator, Old Bill tells me this is a blind spot for surveillance cameras. In the future, always bring the “dolls” here for instructions. He takes out a small bottle and puts it under the woman’s nose, then tells her, “Walk straight ahead to room 1808, knock three times, and go in when the door opens.” The woman seems to be activated, stumbling forward like a drunk person. We watch her enter the room. Old Bill pats my shoulder, “Brother, mission accomplished. Let me treat you to a late-night snack.” I ask confusedly, “Why did she suddenly respond?” “Brother, don’t ask questions you shouldn’t. We just do our job.” Seeing Old Bill’s suddenly serious face, I shut up.

After successfully completing my first “doll” delivery, the manager lets me officially start work. From now on, I can deliver “dolls” independently. The nightclub’s pimping business is very good. I have to deliver at least three “dolls” to hotels every day. The manager repeatedly reminds me that when I let the girls smell the gas from the bottle and tell them the room number, I must avoid the surveillance cameras. Strangely, every girl is in a completely drunk state, supported by me into the car, unconscious the whole way. After I tell them the room number in the hotel corner, they walk into the room like puppets on strings. Even stranger, once when I was patrolling the nightclub, there was a stunning girl in the dance floor, radiating beauty. She was the most beautiful girl in the entire club, and I couldn’t help but keep an eye on her. That night, one of the “dolls” I delivered was that very girl. But just ten minutes before I took her, she was still dancing energetically with her friends in the club. Ten minutes later, when the manager handed her to me to take to the hotel, the girl was completely drunk, needing my support to walk. I felt something was off, but I didn’t investigate further. I figured girls who come to nightclubs late at night aren’t good girls anyway. They’re either there to let loose or to hook up with men. The only difference is that escorts get paid, while these girls willingly sleep with men. And for the sake of my monthly $1000 salary, I didn’t want to get involved. I stuck to the principle of seeing less, saying nothing, and just doing my job, which the manager appreciated. In the third month, besides my salary, the manager gave me a $500 bonus. Today, as usual, the manager handed me a “doll”, and I routinely put her in the car. I despise these women who sell their bodies, so I never bother with them. But today’s “doll”, the more I looked at her in the rearview mirror, the more familiar she seemed. She turned out to be Emily Parker, my high school classmate and the class beauty. In high school, although my grades weren’t great, I was good-looking and could sing well, so quite a few girls sent me love letters. I always liked Emily Parker, the class beauty. Although we didn’t date back then, I knew she had feelings for me. At graduation, when she was drunk, she hugged me and cried, saying she liked me. But after graduation, she went to college in the big city, while I didn’t get into university and entered the workforce early. I later worked as a construction worker in the city and once went to her university to find her. I bought new clothes and excitedly went to see her, coincidentally meeting her and her roommates going to the cafeteria. I invited them all to eat together. At first, everyone was happy, but when they heard I worked at a construction site, their expressions changed. They all made excuses and left, pulling Emily along. Emily looked at me hesitantly, seeming troubled, but in the end, she left with them. That day, I drank a bottle of liquor alone in the restaurant. She looked down on me. I hadn’t seen Emily Parker since then, almost ten years now. Snapping back to the present, Emily is still beautiful, with fair skin and a slender yet curvy figure. Compared to her pure look in high school, she’s added some mature feminine charm, making her even more alluring. I just never imagined she’d end up in this line of work. Her family was well-off when we were in school. Is she so desperate for money now? I kept glancing at her in the rearview mirror, hoping she’d notice me, yet afraid she’d recognize me and make things awkward. Now she’s out selling herself, and I’m the driver taking her to meet a client. Time really is a butcher’s knife, slaughtering people beyond recognition. Feigning calmness, I asked, “Miss, would you like some water?” As the car turned a corner, her head tilted to one side, her long hair covering her face, making it impossible to see her expression. Maybe she doesn’t want to talk to me. These women who sell their bodies for money only have eyes for rich men, they never pay attention to someone like me. It’s just that seeing the girl I once liked fall so low makes me feel awful. I gathered my courage and said, “Emily Parker, it’s me, Jack Wilson. Do you remember me? We were classmates in high school.” “You went to college in the city, and I even came to find you once.” “How have you been all these years? If you’re in any trouble, I can help you. Can’t you stop doing this work?” I said a lot, but she still didn’t respond. I started to feel angry. She still looks down on me, doesn’t she? I’ve heard that women of her caliber are called high-class escorts. They charge at least a few hundred dollars for one night, sometimes even thousands. We were almost at the hotel when the manager suddenly called. “Jack, don’t you dare try anything funny. This ‘doll’ must be delivered properly.” “If anything goes wrong, you’ll face serious consequences.” I hurriedly replied, “Manager, don’t worry. I guarantee I’ll deliver her safely.” I didn’t want to lose my job over a woman like this, but how did the manager know to call and scold me at such a convenient time? Could it be that we’re monitored every time we deliver a “doll”? The thought made me break out in a cold sweat. Despite the mixed emotions of delivering the girl I liked to another man’s bed, I still successfully sent Emily Parker into the room. After watching her walk in, I quickly fled the scene and returned to the nightclub.

A waiter said the manager was waiting for me on the second floor. He led me to the elevator. The second floor was the VIP area of the nightclub, never accessible to ordinary people, and the entrance was very discreet, requiring a guide. The waiter winked at me, “You’re in for a treat tonight.” I didn’t understand what he meant and walked through the long, dark corridor in confusion. The manager was waiting for me in front of a glass wall. From here, you could overlook the entire nightclub, with an excellent view. Besides the manager, there was another man on the second floor, in his forties, pot-bellied, wearing prayer beads on his hand. He looked like a wealthy businessman. The manager raised his hand to stop me from speaking, “Watch carefully, and don’t say anything.” I nodded and stood to the side. The manager smiled obsequiously, “Mr. Blackwell, how do you like today’s dolls? You can pick any doll from the floor, and we’ll send her directly to your room.” Mr. Blackwell stared intently at the floor below, “There’s no risk, right?” “Rest assured, we guarantee zero risk. We’ll handle everything from start to finish cleanly. Just tell me if there are any you like down there?” “There are a few that look quite nice.” The manager handed a remote control to Mr. Blackwell, “This handle controls the direction. When you’ve chosen a doll, just press the confirm button.” Mr. Blackwell chuckled, “You guys really know how to play. This is just like the claw machine my daughter loves.” The manager gave a thumbs up, “Mr. Blackwell, you’re so insightful. This is indeed our version of a claw machine.” Mr. Blackwell laughed heartily. As Mr. Blackwell moved the handle, a beam of light moved across the nightclub floor. No one below paid attention, thinking it was just part of the club’s lighting effects. Those caught in the light became even more excited in their dancing. Little did they know, this was a remote control in the hands of a devil, capable of arbitrarily deciding a girl’s fate for the night. As the light beam settled on a short-haired girl, Mr. Blackwell had chosen today’s “doll”. The girl was completely unaware that her nightmare was about to begin. A beautiful woman approached her, led her to sit at the bar, and chatted with her amiably. The woman handed the girl a drink. After a couple of sips, the girl slumped over the bar counter, as if drunk. These rich people treat ordinary people like playthings, and I had become an accomplice. Realizing this, a chill ran from the soles of my feet to the top of my head. Mr. Blackwell left, satisfied with his new toy. He was eager to go enjoy today’s “doll”.

I don’t want to earn this dirty money anymore. The manager seemed to see through my thoughts. He sneered, “You know how many women you’ve delivered over these three months. We’re all in the same boat now. You want to walk away clean? Don’t dream.” The manager looked down at the floor and gestured to me, “Pick a doll. This is a benefit for new employees. Go enjoy yourself tonight.” I pleaded, “Manager, you know I can keep my mouth shut. Please let me leave. I promise I’ll keep everything here buried in my gut.” “Refusing the carrot and asking for the stick, huh?” The manager picked up the walkie-talkie and said, “Old Bill, call a few guys up here. Teach this kid a lesson.” Soon, three burly men came up. They were all security guards who usually patrolled with me. Damn, they didn’t show any courtesy to a colleague. They beat me up badly. I suspect they’ve always disliked me and were taking this chance for revenge. They were all ruthless guys. It seemed I couldn’t escape this black nightclub. Not wanting to be beaten to death, I quickly begged the manager for mercy. The manager handed me the remote control with a smile, “If you had agreed earlier, you wouldn’t have had to take a beating. It’s good you’ve come around now.” Holding the remote, I figured if I had to sleep with someone, I might as well choose a pretty one. I selected a young, beautiful long-haired girl. The manager told me to go to the hotel and wait. About half an hour later, the girl knocked on my door. The girl stumbled into the room, collapsing directly onto the bed, falling into a deep sleep. This girl wore a black V-neck bodycon dress, her chest white and full, with a deep cleavage inviting imagination. The skirt barely reached her thighs, her long black hair cascading down. She had on exquisite makeup, now looking like a lifeless doll. The manager made a video call, which I quickly answered. “Position your phone at a good angle. I want to watch you do it.” “Manager, this isn’t right. I’m not comfortable doing this with someone watching.” “Cut the crap. If you want to live, do as I say.” I quickly positioned the phone and resigned myself to completing the task. Having been at the nightclub for so long, I’d learned quite a bit. I’d heard of a “compliance drug” that, once consumed, makes a person completely obedient, following any instruction without resistance. And after a night, they remember nothing. I suspected they gave the girls this “compliance drug”. This girl’s body was completely limp. A drunk person would still move, but she had no reaction at all. “Now go kiss her, undress her. Any male dog knows what to do after that, so I don’t need to teach you, right?” The manager instructed through the video call. Resigned to my fate, I crawled on top of the girl, kissing and touching her. The girl’s perfume smelled very nice. Her young, full body and elastic skin… I hadn’t been with a woman for a long time. The fire of desire quickly burned away my rationality.

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Before her death, my daughter was drugged, beaten, and abused for a long time— This was the autopsy report for Madeline. I’ve never been a good mother. After Maddie’s death, I can finally admit that. Night after night, I am haunted by nightmares, where she stands before me, drenched in blood, saying, “Mom, avenge me.” I pushed her into the abyss, all because I wanted her to be perfect. I spent everything I had, changed my appearance, and forged a new identity, all so I could infiltrate this high-end preschool. Don’t cry, Maddie. Mommy is here to get revenge. I removed the thick bandages wrapped around my head. When I looked in the mirror again, I couldn’t help but marvel. Such a beauty. With arched brows and deep-set eyes—a strange combination, but undeniably seductive. The cosmetic surgeon asked, “Can I use your photo as a model?” I smiled and declined. This face is better kept out of the public eye. A few days later, I went to Fairview Hills Academy to apply for a job as a preschool teacher. The assistant principal interviewed me. She was impressed with my qualifications, and after a series of questions, I passed the interview. As I was leaving, she asked, “With your proficiency in four languages and overseas experience, why do you want to be a preschool teacher?” I smiled, “Our nation’s future flowers are worth protecting.”

Three days later, I officially became a proud preschool teacher. The kids were absolutely adorable, surrounding me and calling me “Miss Cindy.” My colleague, a young woman named Jessica Monroe, laughed and said, “You’re amazing! The kids really like you.” I chuckled, teasing, “They like us both. Who can resist two young, pretty teachers?” After work, Jess smiled and waved as she said, “I’m heading out. My husband’s picking me up.” I followed her out until I saw her husband get out of the car to open the door for her. I hurried toward them, handing Jess a notebook from my bag. “Jess, you forgot your notebook.” She quickly took it and thanked me. Her husband, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, smiled at me as his eyes lingered. I looked away quickly, but Jess noticed the awkwardness between us. Jess looked at her husband with amusement, then grabbed my hand to introduce me. “This is my new colleague, the stunning Miss Cindy. You’ll be seeing her often.” Her husband extended his hand and introduced himself, “Zachary Monroe, doctor at Horizon Medical Center. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I glanced at Jess nervously, then shyly reached out to shake Zach’s hand. Jess pulled Zach into the car quickly, her expression darkening. Ah, the curse of being too attractive. Always seen as a threat. Always assumed to be some kind of homewrecker.

As expected, Zach reached out to me. I had no idea how he got my number, but when he called, I acted flustered. I asked, “Does Jess know you’re asking to meet me?” He hesitated for a moment before responding, “How could she possibly know? I didn’t expect such a sultry beauty like you to ask such a… disappointing question.” I let out a sweet, gentle laugh. He asked, “So, do you want to meet up?” Without hesitation, I replied, “Of course. I’d love to. Just the two of us.” He laughed heartily and set the time and place. Tomorrow night, 10 PM at The Clock Tavern. Honestly, I was surprised he didn’t suggest a hotel. But I didn’t mind. Once the clothes come off, everyone looks the same anyway. The fun is in the flirtation before that. I arrived on time, dressed in a loose t-shirt and shorts. He looked shocked as I casually took a seat. Raising his glass, he smirked, “You’re… different.” “I’ll take that as a compliment,” I replied, mimicking his motion and raising my glass. “Thanks for the drink and the flattery.” Zach was a master of flirtation, taking his time—sometimes making me laugh with stories from work, sometimes switching to topics more suited for adults. I raised my glass again, “Who would’ve thought a doctor could tell raunchy jokes better than the average guy?” He downed his drink in one gulp. “What can I say? I’m only human. I need an outlet too. At least I’m not as bad as some who are… less than human.” My curiosity piqued. “Less than human? Do you mean they’re hiring escorts, or… worse?” He shook his head playfully, “Much worse.” I pouted, pretending to be annoyed. “You’re so annoying, leaving me curious like that.” He laughed heartily, “Do you really want to know?” I nodded eagerly, giving him my best innocent look. “Alright, you win. But you have to promise not to tell anyone.” He leaned in close, putting an arm around me, his fingers brushing the hair behind my ear. In a low voice, he whispered, “Some people… have violent tendencies. They like to abuse children.” I swallowed hard, trying to suppress the ache rising in my chest. “Really? That’s… sick.” Zach chuckled, tapping my cheek affectionately. “You scaredy-cat. Don’t worry, I’m not that kind of man.” “I like mature women. But playing innocent… that’s even better.” His fingers trailed down to my lips. I stared at them for a few seconds, then gently licked the tip of his finger with my tongue. I could feel his gaze ignite with desire. If we weren’t sitting in the middle of the tavern, I wondered if he’d have taken me right there.

The next day at work, Jess didn’t look well. I asked her if she was okay, but she just shook her head. Out of concern, I said, “If you’re not feeling well, you should rest in the office. I can handle things here.” Jess thought for a moment before nodding. “Thank you, Izzy. I appreciate it.” I smiled softly, telling her it was no trouble. By lunchtime, Jess still hadn’t shown up in the cafeteria. I brought some food back to the office and found her with swollen, red eyes. “Have you been crying?” I asked, worried. She hesitated for a long time, but maybe she couldn’t hold it in any longer. Her voice trembled as she opened up to me. “My husband didn’t come home until late last night. He wasn’t even on call, but he came home reeking of alcohol… then he just started yelling at me… and hitting me.” I quickly handed her some tissues, and she sobbed for a while before finally calming down. Jess said, “Izzy, thank you for being my shoulder to cry on.” I waved it off. “It’s no problem. We all have things we need to get off our chest sometimes.” She gave me a grateful look as she took the lunch I had brought her. In the blink of an eye, I’d been at Fairview Hills Academy for three months. During that time, I had gotten to know my colleagues well—even the security guards and janitors were on good terms with me. Everyone praised Miss Cindy for her beauty and high emotional intelligence. They said I was bound to go places. Some even complimented me directly to my face. I would just shake my head and say, “I have no ambition. As long as I can be a good teacher, I’m content.” This led them to say, “Miss Cindy is a breath of fresh air, a true gem among women. Graceful and understated.” I would just smile and stop trying to correct them. When people want to praise you, no matter what you say, they’ll think you’re right. And when they want to tear you down, no matter what you do, they’ll still find a way to criticize and hurt you. I’m sure Jess understood this all too well. She was always straightforward and wore her emotions on her sleeve. At just 27, she’d already become one of the top-ranked teachers in the city, earning her quite a bit of attention at the school. But with that attention came arrogance. She looked down on others, especially when compared to my humble attitude, which only made her seem more proud. In these three months, whenever she upset the other teachers, I was the one apologizing on her behalf. When she complained about the cafeteria food, I’d make sure to compliment the staff’s cooking. At first, people probably thought I was just her lackey. But over time, they realized—I was everyone’s little ray of sunshine. Jess’s reputation, however, continued to worsen. During the anonymous mid-year evaluations, she received over forty negative votes. The principal called her in for a meeting. Jess, being the proud person she was, couldn’t stand the humiliation and argued with the principal. It wasn’t a big deal at first, just words being exchanged, but the principal had enough and threatened to fire her. Jess sneered, slammed the desk, and loudly declared for everyone to hear: “No need to fire me. I quit!” Jess quit, and the principal was furious. Whether it was out of pride or genuine intent, she threatened to blacklist Jess. Oddly enough, Jess didn’t seem afraid. I wasn’t sure if she was incredibly brave or incredibly foolish. Fairview Hills Academy is the top-ranking elite preschool in the city. The woman who built it into what it is today didn’t rise to the top without some serious skills. If she really wanted to blacklist Jess, Jess would never be able to work as a preschool teacher again. As Jess left the classroom with her things, I shed a few genuine tears. Maybe I was the only one in this entire school who would truly miss her. She smiled at me, unbothered, and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll be back.” Seeing my confusion, she leaned in close and whispered in my ear, “I know the principal’s secret.”

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