Category: English

1 After seven grueling years long-distance, I quit my job and returned to the apartment I shared with Monica. I entered the passcode three times, each attempt flashing bright red error lights. The door opened, yet my girlfriend wasn’t there—only my best friend Cameron. He wore Monica’s silk robe, its collar slipping open to reveal his bare chest. “Gav? You’re home?” He leaned casually against the doorframe with an easy smile. “I fought badly with my roommate, so I’ve been crashing at your place for a while.” Monica stepped out from the bathroom, toweling damp hair, drawn by the noise. “Stop blocking the door.” She shot me an annoyed glance. “Cameron’s using the master bedroom. You’ll take the guest room tonight.” Her expression turned icy, yet her inner thoughts echoed sharp in my mind. [Did you grow fond of another person after all this time apart?] [Gav, tell him this is our home. He can’t stay here.] [Fight with us. Prove you still love me.] She’d acted this way all seven years. If I texted her back late, she’d grab dinner with Cameron. If I couldn’t fly home for weekends, she’d let him spend the night. Before, I’d question them, shout, act out the jealousy her mind craved. Now I spotted a men’s towel slung over her shoulders, men’s briefs hanging on the balcony rack to dry. I lost all desire to argue. I stepped backward and gripped my suitcase handle. A two-person home couldn’t fit three. I was finished…. Cameron reached out and grabbed my luggage handle. “Gav, it is just a locked door. Are you seriously mad about this?” “Don’t overthink it, man. I just couldn’t remember the old passcode, so Monica changed it to my birthday to make it easier.” Monica let out a mocking scoff. “He is just being overly sensitive. It is just a string of numbers. Why couldn’t I change it?” She looked entirely dismissive, but her telepathic voice was growing increasingly frantic. [Say something! Tell him that was the date of our anniversary. Tell me I am never allowed to change it!] [Gavin, why aren’t you reacting?!] I did not say a single word. Cameron leaned against the wall and faked a yawn. “Are you coming in or not? We are going to sleep.” I reached into my pocket, pulled out my physical copy of the apartment key, and set it on the shoe cabinet by the door. “No thanks. You two get some sleep.” Monica froze. “If you are not coming in, then get the hell out!” She violently slammed the door in my face. I stumbled backward from the force of it. My bag slipped from my shoulder, hitting the floor. A stack of faded train tickets spilled out across the hallway tiles. The one sitting right on top was dated exactly seven years ago. On the day I was transferred to another state, Monica walked me to the station. The final boarding call echoed three times before she finally let go of my waist. “Go, Gav. Don’t look back.” She said it with a brave smile. But in that exact second, I heard her inner voice for the very first time. [I cannot bear to let you go.] [But I cannot hold you back.] [I love you. You have to wait for me.] I stopped right at the ticket gate, tears instantly blurring my vision. After we separated, I took that exhausting five-hour train ride over and over again. Even if I had to work until midnight, I would rush to the station just to see her face. That was until the month I worked two days straight without sleep, collapsed in the office, and missed my train to see her. When I woke up in the hospital, my first instinct was to call her. It took seven tries before she finally picked up. “I am eating with Cameron.” Her tone was exceptionally freezing. “Why are you crying? You didn’t have time for me, so I am not allowed to hang out with him?” “He is your best buddy, isn’t he? With him watching over me, what are you so worried about?” That night, Cameron posted two photos on his social media. Korean BBQ, neon signs at a dive bar, and the empty city streets at three in the morning. Meanwhile, I lay entirely alone in a sterile hospital bed, an IV dripping into my arm all night. A tear fell onto the old ticket in my hand. I tried to wipe it away, but the ink just smeared. The apartment door suddenly clicked open again. “If you are so reluctant to leave, then drag yourself inside.” Seeing the tears on my face, Monica’s expression softened considerably. “How many days are you staying for this vacation?” I did not tell her that I had already quit my job. There was no point anymore. I had given up my career, my promotions, everything, just to end this brutal seven-year long-distance run. But she and Cameron were already playing house. Cameron walked out of the bathroom holding a dry towel. He naturally draped it over her head and began drying her hair. Monica did not dodge him. She just lowered her head and let him do it. Her inner voice constantly screamed that she loved me. But her body was completely accustomed to Cameron’s presence. There was no place left for me in this house. The stack of tickets remained scattered on the floor. I did not bother picking them up. I just turned and walked straight toward the elevator. Monica let out a cold laugh. “Gavin, if you walk out of this building today, we are officially done.” I pressed the elevator button without looking back. Her inner voice instantly spiraled into chaos. [Gav, don’t go. I just wanted to see you get jealous.] [Just turn around, and I will make it up to you.] The elevator doors slid open, and I stepped inside. [Please, don’t walk away.] I heard her. But this time, I did not stop. The metal doors slowly slid shut, entirely blocking out her face and cutting off the sound of her thoughts. Right at that moment, my phone buzzed in my pocket. “Gavin, your position at headquarters is still open. Have you made up your mind?” I wiped my face and cleared my throat. “I will be there to report tomorrow morning, Ms. Morgan.” I booked a cheap hotel room for the night. Early the next morning, a call from the property management office woke me up. “Mr. Davis, the large shipping boxes you mailed over are piling up in the lobby. We already have residents complaining. Please come handle them immediately.” When I packed up my life, I genuinely believed I was coming home for good. Seven years of my belongings had been boxed up and shipped ahead of time. Now, they had arrived. But just like me, those boxes no longer had a home. I rushed back to Monica’s apartment complex in the pouring rain. When I got to the lobby, the space was completely empty. Cameron was walking toward the elevators in a pair of casual slippers. “Gav? What took you so long?” “Those boxes were blocking the whole entrance. They were in the way.” He casually pointed a thumb toward the outdoor dumpsters. “Monica told me you two broke up. She said your stuff was just garbage now, so I did you a favor and threw it all out.” A loud ringing exploded in my ears. I spun around and sprinted into the storm toward the trash collection area. The cardboard had completely dissolved in the rain. My clothes, my books, my entire life was scattered across the wet asphalt, soaking in filthy puddle water. I fell to my knees, digging frantically until I found my small plush dog. It was bloated with dirty rainwater, and one of its button eyes had fallen off. It was the very first gift Monica had ever given me. For seven years, whenever the distance became too much to bear, that little dog was the only thing keeping me company. Last year, I was in a terrible car accident and fractured my leg. She had already booked her flight to come see me. But the night before her flight, Cameron sprained his ankle. Over the phone, she only gave me one rushed sentence. “I will come see you when he is fully recovered.” The pain in my leg kept me awake for three straight days. I could only sit in the dark, clutching that little dog until the sun came up. I pulled the ruined toy into my chest, and my eyes landed on a pair of cracked leather shoes nearby. I bought them six months ago. That was the day a coworker deliberately deleted my entire project presentation. I had crouched in the garden outside my office building, my eyes completely red. I called Monica over and over, but she never picked up. She finally called back at two in the morning. “What is your problem now?” “Cameron got into a fight with his roommate, and I just finished driving him back to my place to calm him down.” The very next day, I walked into a mall and bought those leather shoes. I told myself, Stand firm, Gavin. If no one is coming to walk you home, you have to walk yourself. For seven years, I hustled back and forth, surviving entirely on my own. These items were the only things that kept me grounded. And now, they were rotting in a dumpster. “Cameron, what gave you the right to touch my things?!” Monica’s voice echoed from behind me. “Gavin, why the hell are you screaming at him?!” She stood in front of Cameron, shielding him with an umbrella. “It is just a few boxes of junk. Who cares if he threw it out?” Cameron looked at me, his eyes turning perfectly red and misty. “I thought you didn’t want any of this anymore.” Seeing the total devastation scattered across the pavement, Monica’s face darkened significantly. Her inner voice smashed into my brain. [Why are there so many boxes?] [I thought Gav was only coming back for a weekend trip?] [That little dog… he actually kept it all these years?] Her gaze dropped to the muddy plush toy in my arms. Yet, the words coming out of her mouth were dripping with pure venom. “We broke up, and you still shipped your junk to my house. If your stuff isn’t garbage, then what is it?” I held the dog tighter and slowly looked up at her. “My things are not garbage, Monica.” “You are.” The rain heavily blurred my vision as a crowd of neighbors began gathering under the awning. A few of them whispered loudly. “Hey, isn’t that the young couple from the sixth floor?” “Yeah, they have been living together for like six months now. I always see them grocery shopping together.” Someone pointed a finger at me, their voice laced with absolute disgust. “Then who is that guy? Some crazy ex-boyfriend causing a scene?” “Probably the other man. Got kicked out and now he is digging through the trash. How pathetic.” My already numb heart violently seized in my chest. So they had been living together for half a year. For six entire months, they bought groceries together, walked home together, and shared an umbrella. They were the picture-perfect married couple in the eyes of everyone in this building. Meanwhile, I was the one who had been in a legitimate, public seven-year relationship with her. Yet I was standing here in the rain, labeled as the homewrecker. Monica’s face turned incredibly ugly, but she did not say a single word to defend me. Cameron gently tugged at the sleeve of her jacket. “Let’s just go upstairs, Monica.” She remained silent for a few agonizing seconds. Then, holding the umbrella over his head, she escorted him through the glass lobby doors. I stood in the freezing rain, watching their figures disappear. Her telepathic voice grew fainter and fainter. [Gav is not the other man.] [He is the love of my life.] I stopped listening. The storm intensified. I crouched back down beside the dumpster. I tore through the soggy cardboard, desperately searching for the antique pocket watch my grandmother had left me before she passed. But even after tearing every box apart, I could not find it. The freezing rain finally took its toll. My vision suddenly went completely black. When I regained consciousness, I was lying in a somewhat unfamiliar guest bedroom. Cameron was sitting by the edge of the mattress, his eyes puffy and red. “Gav, you passed out out there.” “Monica and I had to carry you upstairs.” He reached out and tucked the blanket around my shoulders. “Don’t worry about what those neighbors said. I already went down and cleared everything up for you.” “I told them you were not the other man.” “I told them we were brothers, and you were just moving in to live with me.” “But since this is Monica’s apartment, and she is my girlfriend now, the whole thing just caused a big misunderstanding.” He spoke with such profound sincerity, looking like a devoted friend trying to save my reputation. But my mind instantly flashed back to our college days. When my financial aid grant was stolen by a manipulative classmate, Cameron marched straight into the Dean’s office with me. I despise people who steal what isn’t theirs and then play the innocent victim! Back then, he was even angrier than I was. But looking at him now, claiming Monica was his girlfriend with that exact same innocent look on his face, made my stomach churn. Cameron used to hate Monica. Whenever her name came up, he would curse her out without hesitation. But somewhere along the line, that hatred vanished. He started calling her by sweet nicknames. He started taking her out to dinners and going on weekend trips alone with her. It wasn’t that I was completely blind to his boundary-crossing. But he was my best friend. And Monica constantly gaslit me, telling me I was just being paranoid. Her telepathic voice would constantly echo in my mind. [Gav, you are the only one I love.] So I forced myself, time and time again, to swallow the sickening knot in my stomach. But today, I was done pretending to be blind. “Drop the act, Cameron.” I gripped the edge of the mattress and forced myself to sit up. “Where are my degree certificates?” I had to report to headquarters today. But all my backup photocopies had been destroyed in the rain. I used to treat this apartment as my true home, so I kept all my original, official documents locked in a drawer here. Cameron blinked in surprise. “I have no idea. You should look around.” I ignored him, threw off the blanket, and stood up. I walked straight into the master bedroom. It was his room now. But hanging inside the closet were several of Monica’s expensive dresses. My few remaining clothes had been shoved into the darkest corner, wrinkled beyond repair. Cameron trailed behind me, offering a quiet, timid explanation. “Sometimes she has a little too much to drink, and she ends up falling asleep in my bed.” I did not want to know what they did in this room. I only wanted my certificates. But when I pulled open the nightstand drawer, there were no document folders inside. There were only a few boxes of condoms. And one of the boxes was missing a foil packet compared to the last time I was here. My hand froze on the drawer handle. I forced myself to look away. On the small desk by the window, there was an uncleaned greasy takeout container. Cameron suddenly let out a small gasp, as if he had just remembered something. “Gav, is this the certificate thing you were looking for?” He lifted the plastic takeout box. Sitting directly underneath it was my original university degree. The thick leather cover was entirely coated in red chili oil. Cameron bit his bottom lip, looking incredibly guilty. “I am so sorry. I was eating spicy noodles in my room last night, and the cover looked sturdy, so I just grabbed it to use as a coaster.” I snatched it out of his hand and ripped it open. The actual diploma paper inside was completely saturated with grease. Even the official embossed seal was ruined, reeking of stale garlic and chili oil. “Gavin, stop being such an ungrateful prick!” Monica stormed into the bedroom, immediately stepping in front of Cameron to protect him. “Cameron was nice enough to bring you inside so you wouldn’t freeze to death. It is just a piece of paper. Are you seriously going to hit him over that?” I didn’t bother defending myself. I just stared down at the completely voided document in my hands. My mind was racing with one single thought. How was I going to fix this in time? Suddenly, a familiar ringtone broke the silence. It was my phone. But the sound was coming directly from Cameron’s hand. By the time I ripped the phone away from him, the call had already been disconnected. Glowing on the screen was a text from Ms. Morgan, sent exactly ten minutes ago. The deadline is here. Why aren’t you at the office? I had never even seen that message. But right below it was a reply sent from my number. I voluntarily withdraw from the transfer. I snapped my head up and glared at Cameron. “Who gave you the right to send messages from my phone?!” There was not a single trace of apology on his face. “Gav, I was doing it for your own good.” I didn’t have time to interrogate him. I immediately dialed Morgan’s number. “Morgan, I didn’t send that message. I am not withdrawing.” The line was dead silent for a few terrifying seconds. “The HR department is already processing the runner-up.” “Gavin, if you really want to fight for this, you have exactly thirty minutes to get to my office.” I hung up the phone, turned around, and sprinted for the front door. Cameron chased after me. “Gav, stop being so impulsive!” “If you go see that Morgan woman right now, Monica is going to get the wrong idea!” Hearing that, Monica’s expression instantly darkened. She followed us into the hall. “What Morgan woman?” Cameron faked a terrified shudder. “It is that female director who kept the headquarters position open for him.” “She promised him that if he came to headquarters, she would personally arrange his title, his housing, and his bonuses.” “I rejected the offer for him because I didn’t want him falling for a scam!” Monica’s face turned violently pale. She lunged forward and blocked the front door. “Gavin, are you throwing away all your pride just to get a free apartment?” “Why are you rushing out of here? Are you trying to prove how much you can sell yourself for? Going to sleep with your boss to get ahead?” I glanced at my watch. Twenty-seven minutes left. “Get out of my way.” I shoved past her and ran for the elevators. But the digital display showed the elevator was under maintenance. I cursed under my breath and bolted for the emergency stairwell. Cameron started fake crying at the top of his lungs. “Monica, stop him! What if he gets manipulated and something terrible happens to him?!” I had barely made it down two steps. Monica lunged down the stairs and clamped her hand around my wrist like a vice. “Gavin, you are not going anywhere today.” I violently yanked my arm, trying to break her grip. “Monica, you have absolutely no right to control me!” Her face twisted in anger, and she dug her nails into my skin, pulling harder. The sharp pain made me instinctively step backward. But there was nothing behind me except empty air. My foot slipped off the edge of the concrete step. A split second later, my body violently smashed onto the landing below, my back colliding heavily with the cinderblock wall. My vision exploded into white noise. An excruciating, blinding pain completely shattered my consciousness. Monica froze at the top of the stairs, paralyzed. [Gav!] [I didn’t mean to do that!] I couldn’t even tell which part of my body was bleeding. It hurt. It hurt so incredibly much. But the sharpest pain wasn’t coming from the broken bones. It was the realization that I had dragged my luggage across the country, thinking I was coming home, only to find another man living my life. It was the memory of kneeling in a dumpster, digging out a rotting plush dog. I lay there, my eyes wide open, completely unable to force a single word past my lips. Monica stumbled down the stairs, dropping to her knees beside me. “Gav…” [Get up. Please don’t scare me. Don’t just lie there like that.] [I really didn’t mean it. I was just terrified you didn’t love me anymore.] [If you don’t love me, I would rather die.] She reached out, her trembling fingers hovering over my bruised face. But the very next second, her entire body went completely rigid. For the first time in seven years, my inner voice transmitted directly into her mind. [Monica.]

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Chapter 1 When I found out my boyfriend, Julian, had bought expired tampons for me, I wanted to go to the store to get a refund. But the moment I looked closely at the receipt, my heart sank. The receipt listed strawberries, red wine, and condoms—none of which I had seen. The only thing in the bag he brought home was that single pack of expired tampons. The store address wasn’t the local supermarket downstairs, either. It was a Costco eighteen miles away. A few minutes after I called the store to complain, Julian rushed out the door. I followed him. From a distance, I saw him—usually so calm and composed—arguing frantically with a manager. “If you fire her, you’re going to lose your entire team’s bonus!” Julian pressed anxiously, “What do I have to do for you to let her keep her job?” The manager replied: “Unless the customer retracts their complaint.” With that, the manager dialed my number. Julian grabbed the phone from him, his voice full of desperation. “Hello…” I stood a short distance away and spoke calmly: “I’m sorry, but I won’t retract my complaint.” Both men whipped around at the sound of my voice. It turned out that the woman he was throwing away his dignity to protect… was my recently divorced best friend. … Chloe’s face instantly went deathly pale. She stammered out a panicked explanation: “Serena, please don’t misunderstand! Julian and I just happened to run into each other here.” She was hiding half her body behind Julian, her fingers delicately hooking onto the edge of his shirt, giving it two gentle tugs. I knew that little habit of hers. She did it whenever she was scared. Back in high school, when we got cornered by some guys in the hallway, that was exactly how she held onto me. The desperate, pleading look Julian had just seconds ago vanished completely. His brows knitted tightly together. “Since when did you become someone who goes out of their way to make life hard for people?” The credit card he used to pay was mine. I had every right to file a complaint. I walked closer to Chloe. A wave of citrus scent hit my face. It was the exact same scent that had been lingering on Julian lately. When I asked him about it out of curiosity, he just said it was the hand soap in the university bathrooms. Now it all made sense. My chest tightened with a sharp, undeniable pain. Seeing that I wasn’t answering, impatience flared in his eyes. “Hurry up and retract the complaint. Chloe worked really hard to get this job.” With every word Julian said, Chloe’s face grew paler. She and her ex-husband were already divorced, but they were still fighting a brutal custody battle. If she lost her job, the judge would almost certainly award custody to her ex. I handed the receipt to Julian. I didn’t even mention the expired tampons. “The items on this receipt are missing. I’ll retract the complaint when I find them.” Chloe practically swayed on her feet. Julian looked at the receipt, his expression complex, his lips pressed into a thin line. I walked behind the checkout counter on my own and found the “missing” strawberries, red wine, and condoms. They were in a canvas tote bag. A bag I recognized instantly—it was Chloe’s. I retracted the complaint. The manager bowed repeatedly in thanks. As we walked out of the store, Julian quickly caught up to me and grabbed my wrist. “I came out here this afternoon to look at a research site. I only found out Chloe was working here when I walked in. Please don’t misunderstand.” His expression was entirely candid. But he didn’t explain why those items were in Chloe’s bag, nor why he had rushed out to defend her without saying a single word to me. The lingering scent of citrus in the air made my stomach violently churn. “Okay. I don’t misunderstand.” Julian let out a visible sigh of relief, completely missing the faint tremor in my voice. “Let’s go back together, then.” He said that to Chloe. The sky suddenly opened up, pouring rain. Julian took off his jacket and held it over Chloe, shielding most of her body. The two of them huddled together and ran into the rain. Chloe’s hand naturally, smoothly rested on the small of his back. It wasn’t until Chloe was settled in the passenger seat and Julian was in the driver’s seat that he finally remembered I was still standing by the store entrance. He rolled down Chloe’s window, his hand considerately hovering over her head to keep the rain from blowing in. “Hurry up and get in! It’s coming down hard.” Chloe, seemingly realizing how this looked, playfully swatted his hand away. “Go get Serena! Don’t you know how to be a good boyfriend?” Then, she nudged his chest with her elbow, exactly like a flirting, honeymoon-phase couple. My eyes suddenly stung with unshed tears. I didn’t wait for Julian to come out. I just opened the back door and got in myself. It was stuffy inside the car. The AC was set to 77 degrees. Julian and I both ran hot; we always kept the car at 72. But Chloe got cold easily. Chloe handed me a towel. I had never seen it in Julian’s car before. “Quick, dry off.” She reached out to turn down the AC, but Julian stopped her. “Last time you caught a cold, you coughed for over a week. Don’t be stubborn. I’m not staying up half the night to coax you through it again.” We had a system. Julian always set the morning alarms. But last month, for over a week, his phone was completely dead by the time we woke up. I had told him he needed a new battery. But it turns out, it was just dead from talking to Chloe on the phone half the night. The tears fell before I could stop them. I hurriedly used the towel to wipe my face. Chloe pulled her hand back, looking a bit awkward. “You’re just worried about Serena, aren’t you? You really are the perfect boyfriend.” Julian’s face tightened. He let out a muffled, “Mhm.” Silence fell over the car. I thought he was going to drive Chloe home. Instead, he pulled up to a hot pot restaurant. Back in college, we both worked at a hot pot place. To save money for tuition and dorm fees, we often ate the leftover, untouched food after customers left. He swore back then that once he made real money, he would never step foot in a hot pot restaurant again. This was Chloe’s favorite spot. After we ordered, the waiter asked: “Mr. Sterling, do you want two extra tomatoes in the broth like usual?” That was Chloe’s specific habit. The waiter didn’t ask Chloe; he asked Julian. Which meant they came here together. Often. I sniffled quietly. Julian nodded. When the tomato broth was brought to the table, Chloe offered a sheepish smile: “Julian is so thoughtful. Serena just loves sweet and sour flavors.” Looking at the bowl of tomato soup she placed in front of me, I felt nothing but pure irony. I pushed the bowl aside. “This soup is too sour. I don’t like it.” Chloe bit her lower lip, her face twisting into an expression of conflicted agony. After we finished eating, Chloe habitually reached for the handle of the passenger door. I grabbed the edge of the door first. “Chloe, you should go home by yourself.” Her apartment was less than two blocks from the restaurant. Julian instantly frowned. “It’s late. I’m not comfortable letting Chloe walk alone. I’ll walk her. If you’re busy, you can head back first.” Chloe immediately objected: “I can walk myself! You take Serena home. Please don’t fight with her because of me.” She lowered her head, her eyes brimming with endless, unspoken grievances. Julian’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His face was full of heartache and anxiety. Watching the two of them play this agonizing game of hidden longing, it felt like a giant hand was squeezing my heart, suffocating me. When we got home, Julian dropped a casual “I’m gonna shower first” and walked into the bathroom. His phone on the nightstand lit up. I picked it up. Passcode incorrect. It wasn’t the date he got his university offer anymore. Guided by some dark intuition, I typed in Chloe’s birthday. The phone unlocked. I used to joke that he should change his passcode to my birthday. He called me a “cliché girlfriend.” But somehow, without me knowing, it had already been changed to Chloe’s. My chest felt entirely hollowed out. A message popped up from Chloe: “I’m home. Don’t worry about me.” That was the only message in their chat history. There was no other trace of anything. I checked his banking app. And my heart stopped. The $250,000 we had saved up together… was completely gone. At that moment, my hands were shaking violently. The transaction was from a week ago. The memo read: “Summit Realty.” I remembered Chloe telling me that a house in the premier school district cost $300,000. But if a married couple bought it with a marriage certificate, they qualified for a $50,000 subsidy. So… they had already secretly gotten married behind my back. That $250,000. We saved it together to buy a nice apartment in the city. Julian and I had slept under overpasses, in damp basements, on park benches… During the hardest times, we literally starved ourselves just to scrape together fifty bucks to put in that account. The only thing that kept me going was the dream that one day, we would live in a nice house and have a home that truly belonged to us. I slumped against the wall, my limbs completely numb, every ounce of strength drained from my body. When Julian got into bed, he lay beside me and pulled me into his arms, just like he always did. “Are you jealous?” He asked tentatively. “I just forgot those things at the store. Chloe held onto them for me and called me to come get them. We just happened to run into you.” I wanted to ask him, so badly, how he could deliver a lie with such calm, unshakeable composure. “Julian,” I swallowed down the metallic taste of blood in my throat. “If I asked you to marry me right now, would you say yes?” The air in the room went dead silent for a split second. “Yes.” But his arm around my waist loosened just a fraction of an inch. “I’m just kidding.” After I said that, his tone became noticeably lighter. “Alright. Let’s go to sleep.” This was our tenth year together. He knew better than anyone how desperately I wanted a home. Behind me, his soft snoring began. But my tears had already soaked the pillow. Late that night, the sound of a voice woke me up. Julian was standing on the balcony, a cigarette glowing dimly between his fingers. “Don’t worry… she didn’t give me a hard time.” I didn’t catch the rest of what he said. Probably some sweet, intimate pillow talk. Because that gentle, adoring tone used to belong exclusively to me. My heart was completely, utterly dead. My phone screen lit up with a reminder for an unanswered email. It was an opportunity for junior faculty to attend a three-year academic fellowship in Boston. Before, I thought Julian and I had stable jobs, that we would probably get married soon, and I didn’t want to do long-distance. But now, none of those things mattered anymore. I opened the email and typed my reply: “Serena Davis. Attendance confirmed.” After the fellowship in Boston, there would be an opportunity to secure a permanent teaching position there. So, I went to the university to process my resignation. “I thought you were planning to stay in Seattle and get married to your boyfriend? Why the sudden decision to go to Boston?” A colleague asked curiously. “He’s moving out of state. We broke up.” I casually lied. To “avoid conflicts of interest,” Julian had never let us go public with our relationship. “Aw, that’s a shame,” my colleague sighed. “Long-distance is brutal. That’s why I’m so jealous of Dr. Sterling! Being able to secure a faculty position for his spouse—how lucky is that? Getting to work together every day.” My mind went completely blank. When Julian first got hired, I had jokingly asked if he could use his status as a Ph.D. hire to get me a position at the university too. He had flatly, strictly refused: “I am a professor. I have to set an example. Do not push your entitled, privileged mindset onto me.” I walked toward Julian’s office. He had just finished processing Chloe’s onboarding paperwork. When she saw me walk in, Chloe instinctively shrank behind Julian. I smiled. “We’ve been best friends for twenty years. Do you really have to act so terrified of me?” “Serena, please don’t misunderstand. I have my reasons…” Before Chloe could finish, Julian pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up his nose. “Because of your complaint, Chloe was humiliated and gossiped about at the supermarket. That’s why I helped her find a job here.” “It’s not easy for her, being all alone. She just wants to win custody of her child.” Chloe’s soft, pathetic sobs echoed from behind him. I looked dead at Julian: “She did it for custody. What did you do it for?” “Serena!” Julian’s voice was freezing cold. “Chloe is your best friend. How can you think so lowly of us?” You gave her the house, the job, and the marriage certificate. And I’m the one who’s thinking lowly of you? My legs almost gave out. All the suffocating grievance and hatred I had swallowed poured out: “You two are the people I trusted most in the world! You went behind my back and slept together, and you’re asking me what I’m supposed to think?!” Smack. Julian’s hand struck my face. Chloe looked terrified and rushed forward to hold me. “Julian, apologize to Serena right now!” “I…” Julian stared at the red handprint blooming on my cheek, his eyes suddenly filling with guilt. I shoved Chloe away. She suddenly fell backward, her waist crashing into the edge of a desk. “Chloe!” Julian lunged forward, catching her and pulling her aside. As he did, a mug of scalding hot water on the desk was knocked over, splashing entirely onto my leg. I trembled from the searing pain. “Are you hurt?!” Chloe shook her head while leaning into his chest. “Check on Serena first.” Julian shot me a look of pure ice: “She put her hands on you. She got exactly what she deserved.” My leg was burning, but my heart was completely, permanently frozen. “That $250,000. Half of it is mine. Give it back.” I couldn’t stop the sob from breaking through my voice. Hearing that, Julian didn’t look surprised. He just scoffed. “So you came to the university and caused a scene just for money?” He pulled his wallet out and threw two bank cards directly at my face. “Is this enough for you?” “You know perfectly well how much Chloe has suffered trying to get divorced and win back her kid.” “It’s just an apartment in a good school district. Serena, when did you become so horribly selfish?” I stared at him. My cheek was still numb, and I could no longer feel the agonizing pain in my chest. A few seconds later, I let out a manic, borderline hysterical laugh. Julian wrapped a protective arm around Chloe’s shoulders. “You look like a complete lunatic right now.” They had been gone for a long time before I finally left the campus. I went back to the apartment and packed my bags. My flight was early tomorrow morning. As long as I made it through tonight, I could start a brand new life. Just as I was dragging my suitcase down the stairs, Chloe ran into the building, sobbing uncontrollably. “Serena, please… I’m begging you, help me…” She dropped to her knees in front of me and grabbed my hands. “The high school alumni group is having a reunion tonight. Mark is forcing me to go. He said if I don’t show up, I’ll never see my kid again…” Since Chloe and Mark divorced, the custody issue had been a nightmare. Mark frequently got violent with her, so she was terrified to see him alone. I had accompanied her to almost all of her court hearings. I pulled my hands away and took a deep breath: “You can ask Julian to go with you.” The light in Chloe’s eyes vanished. “I… Julian and I don’t have that kind of relationship.” “Please, Serena, I’m begging you. Just come with me this one time. I won’t take that house! I’ll give it back to you, okay?!” “I can’t lose my baby!” In the end, I couldn’t bring myself to be completely heartless. After all, I had watched her child grow up. He even called me his godmother. When we arrived at the reunion, I was shocked to see Julian there too. Our high school class president rushed over to greet us: “We were just waiting for our two beautiful ladies! Chloe, since you used to have that huge crush on Julian, I invited him too! Hope you don’t mind?” In high school, Chloe was the one who passed all the love letters between Julian and me. Over time, everyone just assumed that Chloe was the one secretly pining for him. Chloe looked down, feigning a bashful smile: “No… I don’t mind.” “Come on, come on, tell us what happened with you two after graduation!” They were swarmed and pushed into the center of the crowd. At a high school reunion, they were the stars of the show. Meanwhile, I—the actual girlfriend—looked like the third wheel. And Julian made absolutely no attempt to clarify things. Realizing how pointless this was, I decided to head to the restroom and then go straight home. On my way down the hall, I ran into Mark. He was reeking of alcohol. “S-Serena?” “You’re the bitch who made my wife divorce me! Tell me… are you secretly in love with me or something?” Looking at his disgusting, lecherous eyes, I felt violently sick to my stomach. I tried to turn and leave, but he blocked my path. “Spend the night with me, and I’ll give the kid back to Chloe. Deal?” Panic flared in my chest. I frowned and shoved him away. But he grabbed my arm and violently yanked me against his chest. “Stop playing hard to get! Let’s see who’s tighter… you or Chloe!” “You bastard! Let go of me!” My screams drew people out of the private room. Seeing the scene in the hallway, Chloe suddenly let out a horrified shriek: “Serena! How… how could you try to seduce Mark?!” Instantly, hushed whispers rippled through the crowd: “No wonder she was acting so sketchy when we asked her why she got divorced… turns out her husband was sleeping with her best friend.” Julian shoved Mark away and turned to interrogate me: “What the hell is wrong with you?!” Before I could even open my mouth, Chloe started acting like she was going to bash her own head against the wall: “The two people I love most in the world betrayed me! What’s the point of even living anymore?!” Julian grabbed her and pulled her into his arms. “Man, Chloe has it so rough. A single mom raising a kid… who knows what else she’s gonna have to go through.” “Yeah, really. Who’s gonna want a divorced woman with a kid?” Hearing the crowd, Chloe put on an even bigger show of wanting to die: “Let me go! Just let me die!” Julian held her tightly against his chest: “You still have me… you still have me!” He comforted her, completely oblivious to the fact that I was still trapped by Mark just a few feet away. I violently shook Mark off, marched up to Chloe, and raised my hand. Before my hand could even connect, Julian shoved me backward with terrifying force. The back of my head slammed against the hardwood floor. A shard of broken glass sliced deep into my palm. “Are you having another psychotic episode?!” He roared at me. Chloe was sobbing uncontrollably: “Julian, what am I going to do now? What am I going to do…” “Don’t be scared. It’s okay. I’m right here.” Julian pulled a velvet box out of his pocket. It was the exact ring I had shown him before—the one I loved. He had told me the diamond was “too big” and “too flashy.” Right then and there, he dropped to one knee in front of Chloe. “Even if the whole world abandons you, you will always have me.” I laughed. A bitter, agonizing laugh. When I had poured my heart out to him about the trauma of my abusive childhood, he had said those exact same words to me. I thought he was a god sent from heaven to save me. But I didn’t realize… gods don’t just save one person. A high school reunion morphed into a proposal for the “high school sweethearts.” The crowd erupted into applause. Under the spotlight, they wrapped their arms around each other and kissed. Hearing the wail of police sirens outside, Mark had already fled the scene. I dragged my bleeding, bruised body out of the bar and into the night…

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1 Ever since I was a kid, I could see people’s second shadows. It was a reflection of the soul. The shadows of deeply devoted lovers would entwine seamlessly, while the shadows of couples on the verge of divorce would slowly drift apart. On the day my parents finalized their divorce, the shadow of the man who married my mother completely consumed hers. On the day my older brother finally walked away from a toxic ex, his shadow severed all ties with hers. And as for me and Sylvia, our shadows were always perfectly and tightly overlapped. I used to count my blessings every single day. I thought I had found the perfect woman. We were childhood sweethearts. Ten years of history. An unbreakable bond. That was, until the afternoon she dropped by my office with my favorite ice cream. Under the blinding afternoon sun, I looked down and noticed a terrifying glitch. Our shadows were slightly misaligned. It felt like a magnifying glass was focusing the scorching sun directly onto my heart. For weeks, I drove myself insane searching for clues, checking her phone, analyzing her schedule. I found absolutely nothing. I was just about to convince myself that I was being paranoid, that my eyes were playing tricks on me. Then came the camping trip. We had gone out of our way to pick up my best friend, Carter, for a weekend in the mountains. When we stepped out of the car, the sunlight hit the pavement. My breath hitched. Right there on the asphalt, Sylvia and Carter’s second shadows were overlapping. The sweltering summer heat could not chase away the ice invading my veins. So this was the root of the sickness. … A few yards away, the two of them were setting up a camping tent together. Whenever their hands accidentally brushed, Sylvia would politely and distantly pull away. That was typical Sylvia. To any guy other than me, she was an iceberg, completely restrained and aloof. Even to Carter. To avoid any misunderstandings, she didn’t even have his phone number saved. If it weren’t for the meteor shower tonight, a once-in-a-lifetime celestial event that happened to be Carter’s birthday wish, Sylvia would never have agreed to a three-person camping trip. Yet, watching them pitch that tent, their unspoken chemistry was so fluid it made my stomach churn with jealousy. “Rowan? Hey, man, what’s wrong? Why are you shivering in this heat? Let me get you to a doctor…” Carter’s voice snapped me back to reality. His eyes were filled with genuine concern. He grabbed my arm, trying to guide me toward the car. He had been like this since we were kids, always looking out for me like an older brother. When we arrived, he absolutely refused to let me lift a finger to help with the tent. But in that moment, his touch felt like crawling maggots. Nausea hit me like a freight train. I violently shoved his hand away. Carter lost his footing. He let out a yelp, stumbling backward and dragging me down to the dirt with him. A sharp pain shot up my leg, and a muffled groan escaped my lips. But when I looked up, the rest of my cry died in my throat. Sylvia had thrown half her body under Carter to break his fall. The raw, unfiltered panic on her face was impossible to fake. And on the ground, her second shadow leaned even deeper into his. It wasn’t until she felt my eyes on her that she jumped up like she had been burned. She rushed over to check on me. “Honey, are you okay? Carter twisted his ankle last week, and I panicked thinking he might have re-injured it. That’s why I checked on him first.” I met her gaze. Her eyes were clear and completely unapologetic. The midday sun beat down on us, making the world spin, but the chill inside me seeped all the way into my bones. Last week, when I heard Carter had twisted his ankle, I was frantic. I wanted to drop everything and take him to the ER. But he brushed me off over the phone, laughing and saying he already had company. I remember the sweet, secretive tone of his voice. I had smiled, thinking my chronically single best friend had finally found a girl. I just never expected that girl to be my wife. “I thought you guys didn’t have each other’s contact info. How did you know he twisted his ankle?” Carter’s face instantly drained of color. Sylvia, however, barely blinked. “I was leaving a client meeting near his office and saw it happen on the sidewalk. I couldn’t exactly leave him stranded.” “He’s your best friend. I couldn’t just walk away.” I didn’t say a word. I just stared at the ground, watching their shadows inch closer together. My ankle throbbed, but it was a dull ache compared to the shredding of my chest. “Can you stand?” I thought she was talking to me. I opened my mouth to answer, only to realize her eyes were locked onto Carter. “I think so. Just landed right on last week’s sprain. It burns a little…” Carter muttered. Sylvia’s voice took on a sharp, scolding edge, but it was dripping with undeniable affection. It was the exact tone she used on me whenever I did something reckless. “Stay put. Let me go to the car and grab the first-aid kit.” She let go of me, jogging to the SUV. She brought back the medical ointment and carefully, meticulously massaged it into Carter’s ankle. Only after she confirmed he was fine did she let out a long breath and turn her attention to me. Under the blazing sun, their entwined shadows looked like a gaping maw ready to swallow me whole. I sat there, numb, letting Sylvia apply the ointment to my leg while my brain frantically scanned the past ten years of memories. When did the cracks start? How could I have been so blind? My head felt like it was going to split open until Sylvia’s voice dragged me back. “Looks fine. Nothing swollen. Rowan, just tough it out for today, okay? The meteor shower is a big deal, and we drove all the way up here. If it still hurts tomorrow, I’ll take you to the clinic.” She didn’t ask for my input like she usually did. With a dismissive “tough it out,” she bulldozed over my pain to pave the way for Carter’s birthday wish. Carter mumbled something about feeling guilty, but his eyes were pleading with me to stay. “It’s settled then,” Sylvia declared. “Otherwise you’ll just keep bugging us to bring you camping. My husband and I barely get a weekend off, and we still have to drag a third wheel along.” “You guys rest up. I’ll finish the tent.” She walked away, her footsteps crunching on the dry grass, but her second shadow twisted unnaturally, desperately clinging to Carter’s. I squeezed my eyes shut, letting the pain wash over me. Night fell over the mountains. The meteor shower arrived right on schedule. Sylvia played the perfect, attentive wife. She set up the telescope and adjusted the camera settings to capture the night sky perfectly. At the stroke of midnight, Carter pressed his palms together, whispering into the dark. “I wish for Rowan and me to be brothers for life. Nothing will ever tear us apart.” He sounded so sincere, yet my stomach violently convulsed. I used to think he truly cherished our brotherhood. Now I realized it was just his VIP pass to stay close to my wife. Sylvia also closed her eyes, playing along with the ritual. “I wish for my husband to stay handsome forever. And for us to live happily ever after.” Under the starlight, she looked at me with eyes that seemed to hold the entire Milky Way. But on the dirt floor, her shadow and Carter’s shadow were writhing together, carving a fresh nightmare into my mind. “You guys enjoy the show. I’m not feeling great. I’m going to turn in.” I crawled into the dark tent, curling into a ball. A few minutes later, a blanket of suffocating warmth wrapped around me. “What’s wrong? You seem completely out of it today.” “Nothing. Just the mountain wind. I’m a bit cold.” Usually, I’d be clinging to her like a koala right now. Seeing me turned away, she frowned, gently rolled me over, and pressed the back of her hand against my forehead. “You probably caught a chill. Good thing I packed cold medicine and melatonin. Get some sleep. I made sure to buy the best windproof tent on the market.” She fetched the pills and a bottle of water, watching me swallow them. Then, she began slowly rubbing circles on my back, letting out a soft chuckle. “Look at you, babe. You really can’t survive a single minute without me.” She buried her face in the crook of my neck. But instead of comfort, an icy dread wrapped around my throat, suffocating me like a tightened noose. Ten years together. Married for five. Sylvia had always been fiercely protective and attentive. I never even had to speak for her to know what I was thinking. Just like now. Noting my silence, she let out a heavy sigh. “Is this because I didn’t take you to the hospital right away? Relax. I checked your ankle myself. It’s just a bruise.” She placed her burning palm over my injured ankle. “Don’t tell me you’re getting jealous over Carter?” She let out a low, amused laugh and raised a hand in a mock oath. “Rowan, it’s been a decade. You know you’re the only man in my heart.” In the pale moonlight filtering through the canvas, I stared at the floor. Her second shadow stretched endlessly, slipping straight into the adjacent tent where Carter was sleeping. Tighter. Closer. Bitterness crashed into me wave after wave. Her guilt and her overcompensation were just a byproduct of her deepening bond with him. “It’s fine.” I shifted my weight, putting a few inches of distance between us. “I think I’m coming down with something. Give me some space, I don’t want to get you sick.” Sylvia didn’t say anything else. The medicine kicked in, dragging me into a foggy, restless sleep. My dreams were flooded with their tangled shadows. I woke up drenched in cold sweat. Blindly, I reached out to the space beside me. The sleeping bag was empty and stone cold. My eyes shot open. My heart slammed against my ribs. With trembling fingers, I peeled back the tent zipper just a fraction. A few yards away, bathed in silver starlight, Sylvia and Carter stood shoulder to shoulder. I crept closer, hiding behind a pine tree. Sylvia’s voice was low, almost husky. “Do you like your birthday present?” Carter’s fists were clenched at his sides. His voice shook when he finally spoke. “Do you remember that night we…” “I want your wish to come true. I want both our wishes to come true,” Sylvia interrupted, her voice entirely flat. Carter dropped his head, his shoulders slumping in defeat. She had clearly chosen me, yet my mouth tasted like ash. They were standing two feet apart, but their shadows were practically devouring each other on the grass. I snapped a twig under my boot. Sylvia’s head whipped around. I turned and bolted back to the tent before she could spot me in the dark. A few minutes later, the tent flap opened. A pair of cold lips pressed against my forehead. Soon, the sound of her steady breathing filled the small space. At some point, tears had soaked straight through my pillow. Sylvia kept her promise. As soon as we drove down the mountain the next morning, she insisted we drop by the local clinic. The doctor took one look at Sylvia and chuckled. “Well, look who’s back. Didn’t I say come back in two weeks? And you brought your husband this time?” The doctor adjusted his glasses, completely oblivious. “You rarely see couples this devoted anymore. Last week you were in here every single day with your boyfriend, even bringing him home-cooked meals in those little Tupperware containers…” Both Sylvia and Carter froze, their faces turning a sickening shade of gray. So it wasn’t just a one-time encounter. No wonder Sylvia had been working so much overtime last week, sneaking into bed long after midnight. She was busy playing housewife for my best friend. The funny thing was, Sylvia nearly burned our kitchen down during our first year of marriage and swore she would never touch a stove again. When did she overcome her trauma just to cook for my buddy? “Rowan…” Sylvia reached out, her voice cracking as she tried to spin a lie. I ignored her completely, asking the doctor a few calm questions about my ankle, cutting off whatever excuse was brewing in her throat. Sensing the sudden, suffocating tension in the room, the doctor quickly wrote a prescription and excused himself. Sylvia practically sprinted to the pharmacy counter to get away from us. Leaving just me and Carter in the stark white hallway. “Rowan, please don’t get the wrong idea. You were so swamped with that project last week, and I thought since you were busy…” He frantically pulled out his phone, his hands shaking. “If it bothers you, I’ll delete her number right now. Right in front of you. Don’t listen to that doctor, he’s just confused…” I stared at him. This was the same guy my father had sponsored out of a rundown Appalachian town. The guy who cried tears of gratitude and swore on his life he would always protect his little brother. Growing up, whatever I wanted, Carter would move mountains to get it for me. The limited-edition gaming consoles. The courage to talk to my high school crush. On the day Sylvia and I got married, with my parents already gone, it was Carter who walked me down the aisle. He had solemnly handed my hands over to Sylvia, threatening to break her legs if she ever made me cry. And now, they were plunging the knife into my back together. The concept of the shadows was too insane to explain, but even without it, the sheer weight of their betrayal robbed me of the energy to yell. I glanced at the phone he was shoving in my face, and my heart stopped. Wrapped around his wrist was a woven leather band. A very specific leather band. Sylvia had sent me a picture of it months ago. I had been working eighty-hour weeks while nursing Sylvia back to health after she developed an ulcer from stress. I ended up collapsing from exhaustion and was hospitalized for days. While I was unconscious, Sylvia, a woman who despised religion and believed in nothing but hard logic, flew to a spiritual retreat in Sedona. She hiked miles barefoot to a local shrine to get that exact leather band blessed for my safe recovery. But when I finally woke up, she told me she lost it at the airport on her way back. I spent hours comforting her as she cried over her clumsiness. Today, I realized I was the only one in the room who needed comforting. I stared blankly at his wrist until their overlapping shadows crept across the linoleum floor. “You’re back… Watch Rowan for a second, I need to… I have an errand to run…” The moment Sylvia walked back, Carter looked like he had been handed a pardon from the governor. He threw out a pathetic excuse and bolted toward the exit. Sylvia’s eyes tracked his every step until he disappeared behind the sliding glass doors. “Why is the bracelet you lost on his wrist?” My voice was dead. Sylvia flinched, pulled back from her trance, and sighed heavily as she sat next to me. “It’s just a lucky charm, Rowan. You woke up, you were perfectly fine, so you didn’t need it anymore. He got hurt, so I passed it along. That’s it.” I let out a dry, hollow laugh. “You told me it was lost.” Sylvia pinched the bridge of her nose, her patience wearing thin. “It’s just a piece of string. Stop being so petty. If it bothers you that much, I’ll fly back out and buy you a new one, okay?” “And the meteor shower yesterday? I couldn’t walk, and you still insisted on staying up there…” “Rowan.” A flicker of guilt finally cracked her composed mask. “He is your best friend. Are you really going to be this harsh on the guy who’s had your back for twenty years? What is the point of this?” Harsh. Petty. Carter was gone. Sylvia and I were sitting side by side on the waiting room chairs, yet on the floor, our second shadows were violently tearing themselves apart. I smiled softly. So this was the truth. She may have chosen me on paper, but her soul had already evicted me. I took a deep breath and stood up. “You’re absolutely right. There is no point.” From that day on, a thick, suffocating silence settled over our house. We had an unspoken agreement never to mention Carter’s name. Even though I knew the sports injury ointment in the trunk of her car was steadily running out. I spent my days quietly packing up my life. We kept up appearances well enough, but a few mutual friends started picking up on the cold war. “Rowan, what’s going on? Sylvia’s been completely zoned out at work lately. Did you guys have a fight?” “You two are the golden couple. Whatever it is, just talk it out. Don’t let it fester.” I had made my decision. I was ready to lay all my cards on the table. Then, Sylvia suddenly texted me. “Honey. Eighth anniversary today. I booked our favorite restaurant downtown. I really need to talk to you.” I typed a quick “Okay” and hit send. I sat at the corner booth, waiting. Thirty minutes. An hour. Two hours. Sylvia, a woman who considered being five minutes early a sign of disrespect, was nowhere to be found. My texts went unread. My calls went to voicemail. Above me, the mall’s PA system kept blaring the same urgent warning. “Attention shoppers. A severe hurricane warning has been issued for the area. The storm is making landfall earlier than expected. The mall will be closing immediately. Please evacuate the premises.” The restaurant manager came by with a sympathetic smile, gently asking me to leave. The entire dining room was filled with roses, candlelight, and expensive champagne. The only thing missing was my wife. I walked out into the deserted concourse. The mall lights flickered and died. I hadn’t driven. Outside, the wind was howling like a cornered beast, snapping tree branches in half and throwing debris across the flooded parking lot. The rain felt like needles against my face. I managed to sprint to the awning of a closed convenience store down the block, shivering violently. I have hated the dark and thunderstorms since I was a kid. Panic set in. My knuckles turned white as I dialed Sylvia’s number one last time. This time, the call connected. “Sylvia… where are you?” My voice broke. I sounded pathetic, even to my own ears. “You promised we were going to talk tonight. It’s our anniversary…” “Rowan.” Her voice cut through a wall of background noise. But beneath the static, I heard something else. A man crying. Carter. “Please don’t leave me. I’m terrified… Just this one last time. If you walk out that door, I swear I won’t make it through the night…” Finally, with a heavy sigh of forced pity, Sylvia delivered the final blow. “A massive crisis just hit one of my major projects. I have to stay and fix it tonight. I’m so sorry. Can I order you an Uber?” In a split second, the hurricane outside paled in comparison to the wasteland inside my chest. Every last drop of hope evaporated. I hung up the phone. I sat on the cold concrete step, pulling my knees to my chest. Out of nowhere, my brain supplied a memory. A private burner Finsta account Carter used back in college. The one he used to vent about things he couldn’t say in public. My frozen fingers fumbled with my phone. I typed in the old handle. The grid was entirely different now. It was filled with intimate photos. A woman’s hand resting on a steering wheel. A silhouette on a balcony. A familiar coffee order. I recognized Sylvia in every single pixel. The latest post was a blurry photo of two wine glasses. The caption read: “Just going to be selfish this one last time.” I scrolled down, torturing myself. That time Sylvia told me she was on a business trip to Chicago? She was in a cabin in Vermont with Carter. That time she missed her flight due to a “schedule mix-up”? Carter had begged her to stay another night in his apartment. My hands shook violently as I screenshot every post. I laughed until I choked on a sob, crouching in the dark alleyways of the city. By the end of it, I couldn’t tell if my face was soaked with rain or tears. I buried my face in my arms and waited out the storm. The next morning, the rain finally slowed to a drizzle. I stretched my stiff, freezing limbs and began the agonizing two-mile walk back to our empty house. Sylvia wasn’t home yet. I peeled off my ruined clothes, walked straight into the bedroom, and pulled out my suitcase. One single suitcase. That was all it took to pack up ten years of my life. The divorce papers I had drafted earlier were soaked and ruined from the rain. I printed a fresh stack. I signed my name on the dotted line, placed the pen down, and left the manila folder dead center on the dining table. I walked out the front door and pulled it shut. … “Why the hell did you insist on following me here?” Sylvia rubbed her temples, glaring at Carter as he trailed behind her up the driveway. “I don’t want Rowan to hate us. I want to explain things to him…” Hearing that, Sylvia’s frown softened slightly. She unlocked the door and stepped inside. “Honey. I’m home.” She took a deep breath, forcing a bright, apologetic smile, but the house was dead silent. She walked into the living room, her eyes scanning the sterile, perfectly clean space. Then, her gaze landed on the dining table. On the thick stack of papers. On my signature. The air vanished from the room. Sylvia gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. Behind her, on the hardwood floor, the shadow she shared with Carter finally, violently, ripped apart.

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1 Ever since Wes’s first love returned, I had become the ultimate joke in our social circle: a pathetic, shameless doormat. He let her tear my clothes to shreds, rip out the bellflowers I had lovingly planted, and even ordered me to stand in a three-hour line at a trendy dessert shop in the freezing rain while I was on my period, all just to give her a “surprise.” But I wasn’t heartbroken. I couldn’t care less, because as soon as I completed the one hundred tasks he demanded of me, the system would let me return to my original world and resurrect my deceased mother. But then… A real-life vampire stared down at my half-dead body, cradled my neck in his hands, and sank his fangs deep into my throat. “From this moment on, you’re one of us.” 2 I clutched my neck, staring in absolute disbelief at the man standing before me in faded cargo shorts and flip-flops. “You… you’re a vampire?” He rolled his eyes, retracting his sharp fangs with an annoyed click of his tongue. “Why else would I bite you? For the taste?” I opened my mouth to argue, but a sudden, violent surge of energy tore through my veins, bringing with it an agonizing, bone-chilling pain. The man watched with cold indifference as I writhed on the dusty floor. He turned to leave, but I reached out, desperate, grabbing the hem of his jeans. Sweating profusely and trembling from the unbearable heat under my skin, I refused to let go. “Who… who are you? Why me?” He brushed my hand away with effortless strength, squatting down to meet my gaze. His eyes were dark pools of absolute stillness. “You don’t need to know. Just know that soon, you will be as strong as I am. This is your second lease on life. Don’t waste it.” With an effortless leap, he bounded onto the roof and vanished into the night. I stared, dumbfounded. Between the searing physical transformation and sheer mental exhaustion, my vision blurred, and I blacked out. When I finally stumbled awake, I rushed to the mirror, frantic to inspect my reflection. My face was the same, and my body hadn’t changed either. I bared my teeth, checking for fangs, but they looked perfectly normal. So where was this “strength” he spoke of? Before I could figure it out, Wes kicked the bedroom door open with a loud bang. “Gemma! Where are those peach tarts I told you to buy? Why aren’t they here yet?” His voice flared with irritation, but the moment his eyes landed on me, he froze. A flicker of genuine shock crossed his face. “Did you… do something to your face?” Makeup? Confused, I spun back toward the mirror. My jaw dropped. What in the world? Talk about a glow-up. I stared at my reflection, pinching my now-flawless, glowing skin. My complexion was radiant, completely stripped of its usual dull, exhausted yellow undertone. I looked incredibly healthy, almost ethereal. I actually had delicate, striking features, but years of chronic stress and lack of sleep had left me looking pale and drained. I had never bothered with self-care, so no one had ever called me beautiful before. Wes stepped closer, rubbing his thumb against my cheek, then staring at his clean palm in disbelief. “What kind of foundation is this? It doesn’t even smudge.” I cleared my throat, meeting his searching gaze with a flat, “I forgot.” He paused, momentarily speechless, before his usual arrogant smirk returned. He ran a hand along my jawline, his eyes darkening with a sudden, intense heat. Feeling highly uncomfortable, I took a step back and slapped his hand away. Wait. I stared at my own palm. That felt… remarkably easy. Wes blinked, slightly annoyed, and reached out to grasp my shoulder. I swatted his hand away again. After we repeated this dance about seven or eight times, Wes lost his patience. He grabbed my wrist, pulling me toward the bed. “Look, I know what happened yesterday wasn’t entirely fair to you. But think about it: Giselle’s health is fragile, and we only had one umbrella. I had to get her home safely first before coming back for you. Besides, your fever isn’t my fault. You should have stayed put and waited for me instead of running back in the storm and tripping like a fool.” I pictured the open-air restaurant, remembered the miniature pocket umbrella tucked into his jacket that he refused to share, and felt a sudden, hot spark of fury. Before my brain could even process what I was doing, I grabbed Wes’s wrist, twisted his arm, and sent him flying. He did a clean, three-hundred-and-sixty-degree spin in the air before crashing heavily onto the hardwood floor. He groaned in agony, clutching his back, while I stared down at my hands in absolute awe. Was this the vampire strength? This was incredible! Wes slowly dragged himself up, rubbing his bruised rear end. He looked at me, then scanned the room in sheer confusion. “I just fell.” I looked him dead in the eye and nodded. “I saw.” He scratched his head, his brain short-circuiting. “You threw me. Over your shoulder.” I shook my head, gesturing to my slender, fragile-looking frame, and managed to squeeze out a few pathetic tears. “Do you really think… I’m capable of that?” He stared at the tears on my cheeks and ran a hand through his hair, looking thoroughly vexed. “I didn’t mean it like that, but…” Just then, his phone rang. 3 My ears twitched. The muffled voice from the speaker sounded as clear as if it were on speakerphone. It seemed my hearing had also been dialed up to superhuman levels. Remembering all those vampire movies, I wondered if I had super speed or teleportation too. Testing the theory, I willed myself to move. In a blink, I was standing directly behind Wes. He hung up, spun around to say something, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw me standing inches from his face. “Jesus!” he shrieked, tossing his phone into the air and letting out a string of curses. We locked eyes, and my hand shot out automatically, catching the falling device with flawless precision. Silence stretched between us, thick and heavy. Once he recovered, he snatched his phone back and frowned. “How did you… whatever. I have to head over to Giselle’s. Stay here and behave. I’ll deal with you when I get back.” With that, he rushed out of the room. The moment the front door clicked shut, I dashed over to the kitchen counter, grabbed a sharp paring knife, and sliced it hard across my forearm. Nothing. Not a single spark of pain. Crimson blood welled up, but within seconds, it coagulated, and the skin knit itself back together until it was smooth and flawless again. “Yes!” I pumped my fist, grinning from ear to ear. Super strength, acute hearing, insane speed, enhanced beauty, instant healing, and zero pain? This was the ultimate cheat code. With these powers, no matter how miserable Wes and Giselle tried to make my life, they couldn’t actually hurt me anymore. I honestly wanted to track down that flip-flop-wearing vampire and buy him a drink. While I was celebrating my new reality, Martha, the housekeeper, pushed the door open carrying a warm bowl of chicken soup. “Miss Gemma, you had such a terrible fever yesterday and mentioned wanting soup. I brewed some fresh chicken broth for you.” I gave her a bright smile and took the bowl. “Thank you so much, Martha.” She watched me drink it down, her face tight with sympathy. “Miss Gemma, Mr. Wes left a message before he went out. He wants you at Crescent Estate tonight.” I wiped my mouth. My body gave a brief, instinctual shudder at the mention of that place, but I quickly reminded myself: I was a vampire now. There was absolutely nothing to fear. Martha’s eyes softened with pity. She let out a heavy sigh, took the empty bowl, and walked out. I walked over to the wardrobe, reluctantly peeling off my pajamas. If I could do it all over again, I would never have chosen Wes as my target. To put it simply, my life back home was a mess: a dead mother, a gambling addict of a father, a furious little Maltese, and a hopelessly optimistic me. Since I was three, my father had routinely beaten my mother. I would huddle in the corner, clutching our terrified Bichon Frise, crying my eyes out. My mother never fought back, yet strangely, she rarely showed any bruises. Things took a dramatic turn when I was six. My father had accumulated hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt. Having no money to pay, he decided to hand me over to his creditors as collateral. But before his hands could touch me, my mother swatted him away like a fly and kicked him square in the ribs. That was the day I discovered my mother held a black belt in martial arts. Terrified of her, my father bolted out of the house. In his drunken panic, he tripped, fell into a deep lake, and drowned. When the police delivered the news, my mother merely sighed with relief. She scooped up our dog in one arm, grabbed my hand with the other, and we boarded a bus to a quiet town in the next county. Usually, kids from broken homes like mine end up with deep psychological trauma. But I was stubbornly resilient. I didn’t just survive; I thrived, becoming a little ball of chaotic energy. My mother always called me her little troublemaker. She had a sharp tongue but a heart of gold. Though she pretended to find me exhausting, I could always coax a smile out of her. I knew she didn’t know how to express love, but that was fine. I was willing to teach her. But during my sophomore year of college, a reckless driver took her away from me. When it happened, the pain was so sharp I couldn’t even weep. I just sat on the floor, clutching her framed photo, howling at the empty walls. Desperate and broken, I, a lifelong atheist, clung to a ridiculous rumor. I crawled on my knees from the base of a sacred mountain all the way to its peak, begging any god who would listen to bring my mother back. And then, the system appeared. It told me that if I traveled to another dimension, bound myself to a target, and completed one hundred of their absolute commands, I would be sent back home to my mother, alive and well. Seeing my dazed expression, the mechanical entity had sighed. “If I weren’t desperate to meet my year-end quota, I wouldn’t waste my time with a kid like you.” I had sighed too, but answered with total sincerity: “Thank you.” I really meant it. After rehoming our little dog with a trusted friend and shedding a few final tears, I was enveloped in a brilliant light and transported to this world. As for why I had bound myself to Wes… Naturally, it was because before his first love returned, he had played the perfect gentleman. He was incredibly good at it. So good that I had almost fallen for him. Too bad that sweet facade only lasted a year before Giselle made her grand entrance. 4 The moment she returned, she stormed into the villa, dragged me out of bed by my hair, and slapped me across the face without a single word. Wes had immediately rushed to her side, cradling her slightly reddened palm and blowing on it gently, utterly ignoring my humiliation. Watching Wes grovel like a whipped dog, only one word came to mind: Simp. From that moment on, I was Gemma 2.0: completely emotionally detached, armor on, feelings off. And I stuck to it. For the past year, I had treated Wes strictly like an annoying boss. If he told me to jump, I asked how high. It was degrading, sure, but it was all for my mother. Nothing else mattered. Now, I was just one task away from freedom. I took a deep breath, staring at my reflection. One hour later. I deliberately put on a garish cherry-red blouse and a pair of obnoxious, sequined silver trousers for my trip to Crescent Estate. Wes’s eyes were highly sensitive, and he absolutely loathed bright colors, especially anything glittering or loud. I couldn’t outright disobey his summons, but I could certainly make his eyes bleed. Humming a little tune, I applied a thick coat of bright crimson lipstick and headed out. When I arrived, the two of them were snuggled on the sofa, acting as if the rest of the world didn’t exist. Seeing me enter, Giselle’s eyes darkened with annoyance, though she quickly masked it with a sweet, fake smile. “Oh, Gemma, you’re finally here.” Wes took one look at my outfit, winced, and immediately began rubbing his temples. I took a calculated step forward, positioning myself directly in his line of sight so my sequins could catch the light. “Mr. Wes, you called for me?” Wes winced, turning his face away entirely. I took another two steps to the side, maintaining a polite, flawless grin. After I adjusted my position a few more times, Wes’s face went from pale to green. Finally, with a wretched heave, he threw up directly onto Giselle’s lap. She shrieked, catapulting off the sofa like a launched rocket. “Get this off me! Clean it up! It’s disgusting!” Housekeepers scrambled into the room with mops and rags, frantically trying to scrub the stains off the sofa and floor. While everyone was distracted, I used my super speed to slip behind the sofa. Leaning close to Giselle’s ear, I whispered, “Would you like me to fetch a clean change of clothes for you, miss?” Giselle let out another blood-curdling screech, her hand flying up to slap me. I dodged it effortlessly. Trembling with rage at my innocent expression, she grabbed Wes’s arm and shook it violently. “Wes! Gemma is tormenting me!” Wes, still fighting the urge to gag, gently pulled his arm away. “Giselle, calm down.” He turned his gaze toward me, his expression a complicated mix of irritation and exhaustion. “Gemma. Apologize to Giselle.” I bent at a perfect ninety-degree angle, performing the gesture like a soulless robot. “I am deeply sorry, Miss Giselle.” Wes’s stiff expression softened slightly. He pulled me closer and patted my head. “Good girl.” Giselle’s eyes flared with jealousy. She pulled Wes back to her side, whining, “A simple apology isn’t enough. Where’s the sincerity? I want to see a sea lion dance.” I glanced at the empty, decorative pool in the courtyard and rubbed my nose. “But there aren’t any sea lions here.” She sniffed, rolling her eyes. “You idiot. I mean you. Go jump in and perform.” My jaw dropped. I stared at her, wondering if I had misheard. Wes hesitated for a moment, but under Giselle’s sweet, coaxing gaze, he yielded. He cast a flat look in my direction, gesturing for me to comply. I stared at him, letting my eyes pool with tears until he looked away, clearly feeling a twinge of guilt. I knew playing the victim wouldn’t change his mind, but I had to keep up appearances. I couldn’t let them think I enjoyed being their personal entertainment. Standing at the edge of the pool, I took a deep breath. Just as I prepared to leap, Wes called out, “Make sure your right foot hits the water first.” I turned back and nodded politely. But before I could jump, he stopped me again. “Wait, that blouse you’re wearing belongs to Giselle, doesn’t it? Try not to get it wet, or she’ll be upset.” Are you kidding me? How am I supposed to jump into a pool and keep my clothes dry? He was just being an absolute prick. Gritting my teeth, I took a half-step forward, only for Wes to open his mouth once more. “Don’t make a big splash. I don’t want any water hitting Giselle.” Giselle smirked, tugging at his jacket while pretending to play nice. “Maybe we should think of something else…” Wes wrapped an arm around her shoulders and waved his hand dismissively. “No, let her jump. It’s fine.” “But…” 5 I watched their little back-and-forth, fighting a sudden, overwhelming urge to burn the entire estate to the ground. Without wasting another second, I jumped. Splash. The autumn air was crisp and the water was freezing, but my new vampire physiology kept me completely insulated. I didn’t feel a thing. Since I couldn’t avoid it, I decided to make it a show. I launched into a bizarre aquatic routine. Butterfly stroke, breaststroke, backstroke, doggy paddle; I did them all. I even invented a style I called the “monkey paddle.” I bobbed up and down, thrashing around wildly and letting out a few quiet monkey screeches to lighten the mood. Honestly, if I weren’t a vampire, half of these acrobatic moves would have drowned me. Suddenly, I caught Wes’s gaze and froze. He was sitting in his chair, completely drenched from head to toe. As we locked eyes, he slowly opened his mouth and spat out a stream of pool water. “Gemma,” he muttered, his voice dripping with venom. “Care to explain what kind of ‘sea lion’ does that?” I gripped the wet tiles, tilting my head innocently. “I thought it was quite accurate.” He let out a weary, defeated sigh and waved me off. “Just… get out of there.” The moment my feet touched the deck, a heavy, oversized robe was thrown over my head, accompanied by Wes’s annoyed voice. “Put that on.” Giselle produced a heavy plastic massage mallet from somewhere, tossing it onto the concrete before me. “Perform a trick with this, and we’ll call it even.” I squatted on the ground, my heart racing with excitement. This was it. Wes’s hundredth demand. I was finally going home. The sheer joy brought a wide, silly grin to my face, but a sharp tap to my forehead brought me crashing back to reality. Wes had flicked my forehead hard. “Hurry up and perform!” I pursed my lips, ready to snap, but then a delicious, dark idea took root in my mind.

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1 My twin brother Ollie and I got into our sister’s alma mater. On move-in day, she drove him to campus and left me hauling my own heavy suitcases. I gripped my Finance acceptance letter tight, heart pounding with anticipation. My sister had always been my idol, and now I was finally catching up. When I reached the dorms, she had already unpacked for Ollie. They sat together on a bench in the campus quad. She told him she had spoken to the dean and moved him into my spot in the Finance program. She promised to introduce him to her old professors and pave the way for his future. That look of pure, easy affection had never once been aimed at me. Ollie smiled brightly and suggested I take his place in Vocal Performance instead. Years ago, I had thrown myself over my sister to shield her from a collapsing beam in a house fire. The damage left me reliant on a hearing aid for daily conversation. Studying music was impossible for me. She reached out and ruffled his hair, agreeing without hesitation. At that moment, the straps of my backpack felt like they were crushing me. If my entire future was worth less than a casual joke from my brother, then I no longer wanted this family. I pretended I hadn’t seen them and walked straight to the Finance department’s registration desk. The academic advisor took my acceptance letter, scanned it, and handed it back. But when he typed my ID into the system, his brow furrowed. “Your name isn’t in this cohort.” “Let me check the general directory. Ah, here you are. You’re registered in the Vocal Performance program. You need to head over to the Arts building to sign in.” I shook my head. “I’m not an arts student. My medical records clearly state I have a severe hearing impairment. It’s literally impossible for me to be admitted into Vocal Performance.” “Besides, my acceptance letter clearly says I am enrolled in the Finance department.” Growing up, I couldn’t even count the number of times I had to give things up for Oliver. When he decided he liked the floor-to-ceiling windows in my bedroom, my sister knocked down the wall to give him a massive master suite and moved me into the cramped maid’s quarters. When he wanted my limited-edition sneakers, my sister forced me to hand them over, even though I had worked double shifts all summer just to buy them. She always used the same excuse. “Felix, you used to be such a good, selfless kid. You literally saved my life in that fire. What happened to you? Why are you so bitter about sharing with your own brother?” Jasmine was the person I looked up to most in the world. I didn’t want her to look at me like I was a monster, so I swallowed the unfairness. Again and again. But this time was different. To get into this university’s Finance program, I studied from five in the morning until midnight for three straight years. While Jasmine took Oliver on a luxury vacation to the Maldives this summer, I stayed home teaching myself advanced calculus. I sacrificed too much for this. This time, I refused to back down. The advisor gave me a long, sympathetic look. “Give me a second. Let me call the admissions office.” Just as he picked up the phone, Jasmine and Oliver walked up. Jasmine instantly assessed the standoff. “Hi, I’m Felix’s older sister. He’s at the wrong desk.” “Oliver is the one in your Finance program. Just sign him in.” Jasmine clamped her hand around my wrist, dragging me backward. She lowered her voice to a harsh whisper. “Come with me right now. Stop making a scene and embarrassing us. I’ll explain everything later.” Embarrassing us. I repeated those words in my head. That was exactly how she had viewed me for years. Oliver got to attend high-society galas and corporate board meetings with her. I was told to stay home. On our shared birthday, Oliver got a massive, lavish party with hundreds of wealthy guests. I sat alone in the dark living room until midnight, waiting for them to bring back a half-eaten slice of leftover cake. “Felix, you can’t hear well in crowded rooms anyway. You never catch what people are saying. It’s better for you to just stay home.” I used to pretend I didn’t see the disgust hiding in her eyes. I convinced myself she was just being protective. But today, she finally shattered that pathetic little fantasy. I forcefully yanked my wrist out of her grip. “You and Oliver literally stole my university admission. Aren’t you the ones who should be embarrassed?” I took a few steps back, pulling out my phone to call the dean myself. I was going to fight for what was mine. The line connected. My heart pounded against my ribs. My lips trembled as I opened my mouth to explain what was happening. Suddenly, the entire world went violently silent. A sharp, tearing pain ripped through my ear. Jasmine had snatched my hearing aid right out of my ear. A drop of fresh blood smeared across the plastic casing in her hand. The seconds on the call timer ticked by, but I couldn’t hear a single sound. The person on the other end eventually hung up. Jasmine furiously typed something on her phone and shoved the screen into my face. [I bought that hearing aid with my money. You are coming with me right now, and I will give it back to you.] [If you don’t, I am confiscating it. You won’t be attending any classes at all. You can go work a minimum-wage job until you can afford a new one yourself.] 2 I stared at her for a few agonizing seconds, then turned around and walked away. She didn’t care about my future, and I was done begging for scraps of her love. I wrote a simple message on a notepad. [Are you hiring? I am a hard worker and I will do anything.] I walked into every single store, cafe, and restaurant near the campus. I pointed to my ear, then handed the notepad to the managers. Every single one of them shook their heads. By nightfall, the storefronts went dark. I hadn’t eaten a single bite of food all day. Blisters had ruptured on my heels, making every step excruciating. Exhausted, I collapsed on the concrete steps of a closed diner, leaning my head against the cold brick wall. Suddenly, the warm, savory smell of fresh food wafted over me. I looked up. It was the woman who ran the breakfast cart down the street. I had shown her my notepad earlier that afternoon. She pressed two warm breakfast sandwiches into my hands, followed by her glowing phone screen. It was a text thread with Jasmine. [My brother, Felix, is deaf. If he comes looking for a job, turn him away immediately.] [Do not serve him food, do not rent him a room, and do not offer him any help.] The woman typed a new message for me to read. “Your sister owns the commercial real estate on this entire block. She sent that warning to every single business owner. We are all just trying to make a living, kid. No one dares to cross her.” “I waited until it was completely dark to sneak you this food. Please, don’t let your sister find out.” I nodded slowly. Terrified of being seen, the woman hurried away. I took a slow, mechanical bite of the sandwich. When my sister stole my college admission, I didn’t cry. When she ripped out my hearing aid and forced me to wander the streets in silence, I didn’t cry. But right now, reading a few words of kindness from a total stranger, my eyes burned. The tears spilled over, and I couldn’t stop them. Eventually, I curled into a tight ball on the concrete and fell into an exhausted, feverish sleep. I didn’t know how much time had passed when a heavy fist slammed directly into my cheekbone. I jerked awake. A group of street thugs stood over me, cruel grins twisting their faces. Their mouths were moving, but I couldn’t hear a word they were saying. I scrambled to my feet and tried to run. But my blistered feet betrayed me. Before I made it ten yards, a hand grabbed the back of my collar and violently hurled me to the pavement. They pinned me down. Fists rained down on my face and stomach, blurring my vision. Just as I was about to pass out from the pain, they suddenly stopped and backed away. I dug my nails into my palms, forcing myself to stay conscious. I forced my swollen eyes open. Jasmine was standing right in front of me. She was wearing a sleek, tailored black trench coat, looking utterly immaculate and aristocratic. She stared down at me with a faint trace of disgust in her eyes. A suffocating wave of humiliation washed over me. I felt like an absolute clown. Jasmine waved her hand, and the thugs immediately lowered their heads and scurried away into the alley. I understood instantly. She hired them to beat me. Jasmine sighed heavily. She pulled a silk handkerchief from her pocket and wiped the dirt and blood off my cheek. Then, she pushed a new hearing aid into my ear. “I accidentally broke your old one this morning. I bought you a replacement. It’s a top-tier import.” “I didn’t know your exact ear mold measurements, so I just used Oliver’s. You guys are twins anyway.” The earpiece didn’t fit. It was too big, digging painfully into the cartilage of my ear. But it worked well enough for me to hear her voice. “Look at yourself. You’ve been gone for twelve hours and you already look like a stray dog.” “Come home with me, Felix. Tomorrow, you are going to register at the Arts building.” “I will pull some strings and explain your disability to the professors. They won’t make things too hard on you.” 3 She thought I was finally broken. She thought I was ready to submit. Instead, I tilted my head up, looked her dead in the eye, and spoke clearly. “And what if I say no? Are you going to hire more thugs to beat me?” Her eyes darkened. She didn’t say a word. Her silence was a yes. I let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. “Jasmine, I never understood why you played favorites.” “Oliver and I are both your brothers. I literally saved your life in that fire…” “Enough.” Jasmine cut me off, her face turning ice-cold. “Stop bringing up ancient history like I owe you my life. It was years ago.” “Oliver is bright, cheerful, and he knows how to make me laugh. He brings life into our house. Of course I favor him.” “Unlike you. You just skulk around the house wearing that hearing aid, trying to make me feel guilty. You are so manipulative for your age.” The blood in my veins turned to ice. Our parents moved overseas to expand the business right after we were born. To me, Jasmine was my only real family. During the fire, I didn’t hesitate for a single second before throwing my body over hers. When the doctors told me my hearing was permanently gone, I was so terrified of making her sad that I voluntarily moved to a boarding school. I only called to share good news, hiding all my struggles. I only went home during winter and summer breaks. I never imagined she despised my presence that much. She harbored a deep, irrational resentment toward me. No matter what I said, she would only see it as a manipulation tactic. I nodded, accepting the reality. “Fine. I understand.” “I’ll buy a bus ticket out of state tomorrow. I’ll get as far away from you as possible.” “Felix, why do you have to be so incredibly unreasonable?!” Jasmine snapped. She opened her mouth to yell at me again, but her phone suddenly rang. The moment she looked at the screen, the ice in her eyes melted into pure warmth. “Hey, Ollie. How was your first day? Are you settling in okay?” “If any of your classes are too hard, just call me. I can help you.” Oliver’s voice chirped happily through the speaker. “Don’t worry, Val! Everyone knows I’m your brother. Nobody dares to mess with me.” “I just got to the penthouse you bought for me near campus. Can you bring me a slice of strawberry shortcake? I want a midnight snack.” Jasmine laughed, the sound dripping with affection. “You greedy little pig.” “Give me ten minutes. I’m on my way.” Oliver continued to whine and act cute, and Jasmine happily indulged him. I sat on the cold pavement, completely alienated from this picture-perfect family dynamic. I started to push myself up to leave, but then I heard Oliver casually drop a question. “By the way, how is Felix doing in the Vocal Performance program?” Jasmine frowned and glared at me. “He isn’t nearly as obedient as you. He threw a tantrum and ran off this morning.” Oliver had always been perfectly obedient to Jasmine. Because everything she ever demanded of him only benefited him. Oliver let out a theatrical sigh. “I just wanted to build his character and test his resilience.” “If he actually manages to become the deaf Beethoven of our generation, at least he won’t be a total embarrassment to the family anymore.” Oliver’s grades were terrible. He had to rely on Jasmine’s money just to get accepted into the Arts program. But he desperately wanted the prestige of the Finance industry. Yet he spun his selfish theft into a noble sacrifice for my own good. A cold laugh escaped my throat. “I have zero musical talent.” “I got into the Finance program based on my own academic merit. If you actually cared about my future, you would give me my rightful spot back.” 4 “Felix!” Jasmine roared. She hung up the phone, her eyes blazing with absolute fury. “Are you doing this just to spite us?!” “Fine. Great. Since you think you can fly on your own, I will personally blacklist you from every single university in New York. I will blacklist you across the entire country.” “Let’s see how far an uneducated, deaf high school graduate can make it in the real world.” She held out her hand, her palm facing up. “If you have any backbone at all, give me back everything I bought you.” I didn’t hesitate. I pulled the oversized hearing aid out of my ear and dropped it into her palm. The world plunged back into dead silence. But I didn’t regret it. She had already stolen my university admission. If I stayed, she would slowly strip away everything else I earned just to feed Oliver’s ego. Being deaf and broke was better than being their personal blood bag. I turned to walk away, but Jasmine stepped in front of me, blocking my path. She furiously typed a sentence on her phone. [The clothes on your back were bought with my money too, weren’t they?] They weren’t! Every time I came home for the holidays, she would give Oliver a massive allowance. “Felix is finally home! Go buy whatever clothes you want,” she would say. “But Felix, your hearing makes it hard for you to talk to the cashiers, and Oliver has a much better fashion sense. Just let Oliver buy things for you.” But the second Oliver walked into a mall, he spent every last dime on designer sneakers for himself. He completely forgot I existed. Or rather, he knew that even if he ignored me, Jasmine wouldn’t punish him. So he did whatever he wanted. I was so terrified of being a burden that I never complained. I just used my academic scholarship money to buy my own cheap clothes from thrift stores. I raised my hands to sign the truth to her. But she refused to look. She rolled her eyes impatiently, looked down at her screen, and typed one word. [Strip.] Every ounce of strength drained from my body. Jasmine shot a look to her bodyguards, and two massive men stepped out of the shadows, cornering me. Her message was clear. Strip, or don’t leave at all. My hands trembled as I took off my shoes. Then my jeans. Then my t-shirt. I stood in the alleyway in nothing but my boxer briefs. The cold night wind bit into my exposed skin. A sudden icy sensation ran down my cheeks. I raised a hand and realized I was crying. Silent, uncontrollable tears were streaming down my face. I reached for the waistband of my underwear, but Jasmine suddenly lunged forward and grabbed my wrist. Her entire body was shaking. Her eyes were bloodshot. She ripped off her own designer trench coat and threw it over my bare shoulders. Her lips formed a single, harsh word. I couldn’t hear it, but reading her lips, it looked a lot like “Leave.” I didn’t argue. I pulled her long coat tight around my body and walked away. The coat fell past my knees, hiding enough so that people wouldn’t think I was a naked lunatic escaping an asylum. I walked all the way to the bus terminal, leaving bloody footprints on the concrete. Jasmine had already frozen every single bank account tied to my name. So I downloaded a predatory payday loan app on my phone, borrowed a thousand dollars at an insane interest rate, and bought a one-way ticket to London. It was an ocean away. Jasmine couldn’t touch me there. I was going to build a new life with my own two hands. That night, Jasmine didn’t sleep a wink. She kept checking her phone, desperately hoping for a text from me. She couldn’t understand why her perfectly obedient, docile little brother had suddenly rebelled. With their family’s wealth, she could have guaranteed both her brothers a life of luxury, regardless of their majors. After hesitating for hours, she finally called her head of security. “Find my brother immediately. He can’t hear, which makes him incredibly vulnerable. Put eyes on him, but stay in the shadows.” “Yes, ma’am.” But five minutes later, the security chief called back. His voice was laced with panic. “Ms. Jasmine, Felix is no longer in the United States. We are still trying to track his final destination…” “What?!” Jasmine shot up from her chair, the blood completely draining from her face. 5 After a grueling international flight, I landed in London. The city was damp and freezing, the air thick with the smell of the River Thames and exhaust fumes. After paying for a cheap hostel, my payday loan left me with exactly thirty pounds. If I ate nothing but instant noodles, it would last me two weeks. Without a hearing aid, my world was completely silent. But there was a deep safety in that silence. There were no harsh lectures from Jasmine, no manipulative whining from Oliver. The toxicity had receded like the tide. I spent three days looking for a job. I walked down street after street, getting rejected by every single pub and retail shop. No one wanted to hire a deaf teenager. Eventually, I saw a flyer pinned to a community board. A wealthy family was looking for a private A-Level math tutor. Thirty pounds an hour. I went to a local library and printed ten copies of my high school transcripts. Top 0.1% in the state. Perfect scores in advanced mathematics. A mother texted me almost immediately. Her daughter, Chloe, was failing math right before her university entrance exams. The mother typed a question on her phone when we met. “You can’t hear. How are you going to teach her?” “I write fast,” I typed back. “I will write out every single step until she understands the core concept.” She agreed to a one-week trial. Every morning at seven, I took the Tube to their flat in Camden and sat in their living room for six hours. I used a pencil and blank printer paper. I broke down complex calculus equations line by line. I derived the formulas, erased them, and wrote them again. I didn’t stop writing until Chloe smiled and gave me a thumbs up. One afternoon, her mother recorded a video of our session and posted it in a parent group chat. That night, I received forty new messages requesting my services. My schedule exploded. I went from tutoring one kid to three kids a day. I took the train across London, from Soho to Greenwich. I carried a bottle of tap water and a pack of plain biscuits in my backpack for my daily meals. In two weeks, I saved up twelve hundred pounds. I went straight to an audiologist clinic in Central London and bought a mid-range hearing aid. It wasn’t a luxury import like the one Jasmine bought, but it worked perfectly. The world flooded with sound again. I felt like a whole human being. The next morning, I walked onto the campus of London University. I didn’t have an appointment. I just sat on a bench outside the admissions office for four hours. Eventually, an older man in a tweed jacket noticed me and asked what I was doing. I handed him my portfolio and clearly explained my situation. “I don’t have the money for international tuition. But I have perfect test scores. You can test me right now if you want.” The man was Professor Chen, the Vice Dean of the Mathematics department. He looked over my transcripts, then read my audiology report. He was quiet for a long time. Finally, he asked me why I traveled across the ocean all by myself. I thought about it for a second. “Because my family didn’t want me anymore.” Professor Chen didn’t pry. He took me inside and spent the entire afternoon discussing my case with the admissions board. The next morning, I received an email. “Given Felix’s exceptional academic record and extenuating circumstances, the university board has unanimously agreed to grant a full-tuition scholarship for the four-year program, alongside guaranteed on-campus employment.” I stared at the glowing screen. Tears spilled over my eyelashes, hitting the keyboard and blurring my vision.

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At noon, my online boyfriend sent me a mirror selfie from the gym. Eight-pack abs, broad shoulders, a narrow waist—the sexual tension was practically dripping off the screen. [Babe, I had a great workout today.] [Don’t you think I deserve a little reward?] I was just about to text back: [I’ll reward you with phone sex twice tonight.] But then, my eyes caught the logo printed on the gym wall behind him. Apex Tech. My heart instantly skipped a beat. Because… I worked at Apex Tech. And that gym looked exactly like our private corporate gym… I froze on the spot. No way. Was this a joke? The mature daddy I’d been having phone sex with for the past two years actually worked at the same company as me? I zoomed in on the photo. Bigger, bigger, and bigger. The logo was clear as day. [Apex Tech] It was definitely my office building. Our company gym was strictly VIP, accessible only to internal employees. My online boyfriend was actually my coworker? OMG! [Babe, why the silence?] Another photo of his abs popped up on my screen. He had casually pulled up his gym tank top. His rock-hard chest and the sharp lines of his V-taper were perfectly reflected in the mirror. The testosterone was practically suffocating. The texts kept rolling in. [I know you love this.] [Why aren’t you replying to me, huh?] [PayPal Transfer: $50,000] My brain was short-circuiting. I knew my online boyfriend lived in the same city. But I never, in my wildest dreams, expected us to be under the same roof. Talk about a twisted stroke of fate! After quickly drooling over his abs for a second, I decided to probe. “Hey babe, where do you work?” “Is it by any chance Apex Tech?” I typed the words out, then deleted them. Over and over. I didn’t know what to say. If I asked, he would definitely ask where I worked. He’d find out I was at Apex Tech, too. And then he would want to meet up. What would I do then? The mere thought of face-to-face interaction with someone I’d been dirty-talking with for two years made me want to curl up and die of embarrassment. Before I could even process this, another text popped up: [Why are you ignoring me? Is my body not doing it for you anymore? Or do you need more shopping money?] Another picture of his abs. [PayPal Transfer: $100,000] [PayPal Transfer: $100,000] To keep him from sensing my panic, I quickly replied: [Just grabbed lunch, sorry! missed your texts.] [The abs… look amazing.] Only then did the text onslaught stop. [Good. Now, where’s my reward?] I didn’t dare reply. I stood up from my cubicle and walked over to the elevators, heading straight to the gym on the fifth floor. There were plenty of guys lifting weights, but which one was him? I forced myself to calm down and organize my thoughts. Right now, I needed to figure out three things: First, who the hell is my online boyfriend? Second, is he actually a decent guy in real life? Third, if I do find him, do I confess, keep the online relationship going, or break it off? I mean, sexting a coworker is a HR nightmare. Just thinking about it made my skin crawl. Looking back at our two-year history, we had actually kept our privacy top-notch. We never traded face pics. Even during our FaceTime sessions, we never showed our faces, only our bodies. My boyfriend would only send me photos of his chest and abs whenever I begged for them. Based on that alone, it was almost impossible to identify him. I couldn’t exactly go around the office ripping guys’ shirts open to compare their ab patterns with my Snapchat archive.

Back at my desk, I looked at my male coworkers. I shuddered. We battled each other in meetings every single day like mortal enemies. If my online boyfriend turned out to be one of them, I would literally die on the spot. I scrolled through our chat history, desperately looking for clues. And I actually found something. Last month, he was struggling to choose a watch. [I’m out shopping with a friend. Want to buy a watch.] [Which one looks better? Which do you prefer? I’ll get you one too.] He had sent a few photos, and I had picked out the Rolex Daytona. To protect my identity, I had politely declined his offer to buy me one. [Whatever you choose is the best,] I had said. He bought it right then and there. So all I had to do was look around the office and see who was wearing that exact Rolex Daytona. I took a few laps around the office, secretly staring at every guy’s wrist, but I couldn’t find a single match. I messaged my boyfriend: [Are you wearing your new watch today?] He replied instantly with a photo. It showed a man’s dress shirt sleeve rolled up slightly, revealing a strong, tanned forearm. On his wrist, the Rolex gleamed with a cold, low-key luxury. Just the way he rested his hand exuded the quiet confidence of a powerful, mature man. Ah, so he had his sleeves rolled up. No wonder. But why hadn’t I spotted him? While I was lost in thought, a message popped up on my work WhatsApp from my boss, Julian Vance: [Chloe, there are some issues with the proposal. Come to my office right now!] When I walked into the corner office, Julian was smiling into his phone, on a call. “Yeah babe, I miss you too. Just come to the office tomorrow to see me.” “Oh, by the way, Ethan is coming over tomorrow. You can hitch a ride with him.” “Come on, I just don’t want you driving all that way by yourself, it’s not safe~” “Alright, alright, have it your way. Drive safe. See you tomorrow.” “Talk to you later. Kiss kiss~” I awkwardly looked away. Yikes. Major cringe. Who knew our tough CEO, Julian, had such a clingy, lovesick side? Julian hung up, cleared his throat, and offered me a professional smile. “Chloe, the investors looked at the proposal this morning. They’re mostly satisfied, but they had a few notes. I’ve marked them here. Make the edits based on their feedback.” “Sure, Julian.” I turned to leave, but my eyes caught his wrist. He was wearing a Rolex. The exact Daytona model I had picked out! In an instant, it felt like lightning had struck my brain. I froze. Seeing that I hadn’t left, Julian looked up. “Yes? Anything else?” His voice snapped me out of my shock. I took a deep breath, trying to act casual. I pointed at his wrist. “Nice watch, Julian.” Julian smiled, his hazel eyes crinkling at the corners. “Thanks. My girl helped me pick it out. It is nice, isn’t it?” Me: “……” Julian grinned. “Why? Do you like it?” I quickly masked my horror, waving my hand dismissively. “Oh, no. Just making conversation.” With that, I practically bolted out of his office. A wild, terrifying thought screamed in my head: Julian is my online boyfriend! But if I was his girlfriend… then who the hell was the “babe” he was just sweet-talking on the phone? Was Julian cheating on his girlfriend with me? Holy shit! And why was Julian so different online versus offline? Online, he was this dominant, mature, daddy-type protector. Offline, he was a gossipy, clingy millennial!

I was a complete zombie for the rest of the day. I didn’t even reply to my online boyfriend’s messages. Somehow, I managed to finish editing the proposal and dragged myself home, feeling absolutely hollow. My phone was buzzing like crazy with notifications from him. [Babe, what are you doing? I miss you.] [It’s been a while since we had phone sex. Tonight?] [Are you there?] [PayPal Transfer: $100,000] [Buy yourself something nice.] [Why are you ignoring me?] [You’re acting weird today.] [Still no reply? Did I do something wrong?] … My hands shook as I typed out a reply. [Are you keeping secrets from me?] He replied within seconds: [I’ve never lied to you about anything.] [Babe, is there some kind of misunderstanding?] [No.] I tried to calm my racing mind. If my online boyfriend really was Julian, my next step was to figure out if he was cheating on his actual girlfriend. And who exactly was the “babe” he was hosting tomorrow. What if I was overreacting? What if it was all a misunderstanding? Another text came in: [Help me pick an outfit.] He sent a photo of several designer suits lined up. [I trust your taste.] I intentionally chose a navy blue Tom Ford suit. It was distinct enough that I’d easily spot it. Deep down, I was desperately hoping. If Julian didn’t wear that suit tomorrow, it meant he wasn’t my online boyfriend. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about whether my digital lover was a cheating scumbag. The next morning, I walked into Julian’s office with the updated proposal. Julian was sitting on the leather sofa, sipping tea. And he was wearing the exact navy blue Tom Ford suit I had picked out last night. “Julian, here’s the final draft.” Julian nodded with a smile. “Thanks, Chloe.” “The lead investor is coming this afternoon. Get ready to present.” “Will do.” I stared at his suit and asked, trying to sound nonchalant: “I’ve never seen you in this suit before, Julian. It looks great on you.” Julian smiled. “Really? Just bought it yesterday.” My heart sank. That confirmed it. Julian was my online boyfriend. Sitting at my desk, I couldn’t focus. I kept staring at his glass-walled office. Julian had said his “babe” was coming today. I wanted to see who she was with my own eyes. If it was what I feared, then this relationship had to end immediately. Half an hour later, a stunning, well-dressed girl walked straight into Julian’s office. I grabbed my mug and pretended to go to the breakroom. As I passed his office, their laughter drifted through the cracked door. “I missed you so much! This suit looks incredible on you. Navy blue is definitely your color.” Julian’s voice was incredibly tender. “I’m glad you like it. I wore it just for you. Aren’t I meeting your parents tonight? I was worried they wouldn’t approve of me.” “Are you kidding? If I love you, my parents will love you too.” Hearing those words felt like a physical blow to my chest. So, the reason he had asked me to choose an outfit was to impress his real girlfriend’s parents. What was I, then? A dirty little online secret? A side chick? My stomach churned. I pulled out my phone and typed out a text to my online boyfriend with trembling fingers: [You are a piece of trash. We are done.] I blocked and deleted his contact immediately.

Julian walked out of his office, hand-in-hand with his girlfriend, waving her goodbye. He didn’t look sad at all. I felt like the biggest clown on earth. Thinking about all our late-night chats, a wave of bitterness washed over me. My only saving grace was that I had used a burner Snapchat account and never revealed my real name or face. Otherwise, I’d have to resign and flee the country. I took a deep breath. No guy was worth losing my career over. I was a professional. I wasn’t going to quit a great job over some online drama. In the afternoon, Julian messaged me. [Chloe, the investor is here. He reviewed the proposal and likes it. Come in and present your pitch.] I put on my best professional face, stood tall, and walked in. “Chloe, this is our lead investor, who also happens to be my best friend, Ethan Cross. Don’t be nervous. Just pitch your ideas to him.” I completely ignored Julian and looked at the man sitting on the sofa. My eyes locked with Ethan’s. Unlike Julian’s warm, approachable vibe, this man exuded pure wealth and power. He had a cold, untouchable aura. He wore a tailored black V-neck suit over a fitted black mock-neck sweater. The sweater clung to his incredibly broad chest, hinting at a powerful build that was teasingly concealed by his jacket. It was enough to make any girl’s imagination run wild. His long, pale fingers picked up a glass of water, and he took a slow sip. I was completely intimidated by his presence and swallowed hard. At Julian’s prompting, I began my presentation. Once I got into work mode, my confidence returned. I was articulate and poised. By the time I finished, Julian was clapping. “Excellent job, Chloe! Ethan, what do you think?” Both Julian and I looked at Ethan. But Ethan’s eyes weren’t on the papers—they were locked onto my collarbone. Suddenly, he said, “Miss Miller, that’s a beautiful necklace.” I looked down. My blouse had a slightly wide neckline, and my crystal pendant necklace was fully visible. Panic seized me. When I bought this necklace, I had sent a close-up photo of it to my online boyfriend. [Look at my new necklace! Isn’t it pretty?] The photo had been a close-up of my collarbone and neck. My online boyfriend had replied: [You’d look beautiful wearing anything.] Now that the necklace was on display, would Julian recognize it? I shot a quick glance at Julian, but he didn’t seem to notice anything. He was just eagerly waiting for Ethan’s feedback. Of course. Julian had a real girlfriend. To him, I was just a fun online distraction. Why would he remember a detail like that? Only a fool like me would treasure every single memory. I awkwardly covered my collarbone with my hand. “Thanks. Just a cheap piece of jewelry.” Julian sat down next to Ethan and took a sip of his coffee. “So, what’s the verdict?” Julian stared at Ethan, but Ethan kept his eyes on me. After a long pause, he slowly murmured: “It’s perfect.” Hearing this, Julian happily slapped Ethan’s shoulder. “Ethan, you’re a lifesaver! I knew I could count on you.” I let out a quiet sigh of relief. All those sleepless nights working on this proposal had finally paid off. Ethan brushed Julian’s hand off his shoulder with a look of mild annoyance, then looked back at me with a faint, rare smile. “Credit goes to Miss Miller. She’s incredibly talented.” Even though it was our first meeting, I felt an odd sensation. The intensity in Ethan’s gaze made my ears burn. Julian looked shocked. “Whoa, hold on. Did the ice king just pay someone a compliment?” “Well, to be fair, Chloe is amazing. Anyone would praise her.” “But you? Complimenting a girl? That’s a first. Did the sun rise from the west today?” “Oh, wait. I forgot about your girlfriend—actually, ex-girlfriend. She dumped you, didn’t she? My bad, big mouth.” My ears instantly perked up. Ooh, tea! The legendary billionaire investor, Ethan Cross, got dumped? Who on earth would be dumb enough to dump a guy like him? The next second, Ethan shot a dark, brooding glance in my direction. I quickly looked down, suddenly feeling inexplicably guilty. Ethan looked away, took a sip of his tea, and said coldly to Julian: “Keep talking, and I’ll pull my funding.” Julian immediately held his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright! My bad. You really can’t take a joke, can you?” Trying to calm my racing heart, I quickly excused myself. “Julian, Mr. Cross, if that’s all, I’ll head back to my desk.” I practically fled the room. Back at my desk, Julian sent me another message on WhatsApp. [Chloe, are you free tonight? Mr. Cross still has a few questions about the proposal. He wants to discuss it over dinner. Our treat.] I replied coldly: [Not interested.] [If you go, I’ll double your year-end bonus.] Hey, nobody turns down free money. I replied instantly. [Deal. Send me the address.] Locking my phone, I thought about Julian meeting his girlfriend’s parents tonight. A pang of sadness hit me, but I shook it off. Well, Chloe, I thought to myself, unlucky in love, lucky in career.

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The night before Prom, our class Snapchat group chat suddenly blew up. “Oh my god! Ashton, Why’d you switch your Prom partner to Hailey? Weren’t you supposed to dance the opening waltz with Chloe?” Ashton replied casually, “So I changed it. What’s the big deal? It’s not like she’ll get mad.” “She’s easy. She can just come tomorrow and be Hailey’s and my personal photographer.” My mind went completely blank. I was still clutching the designer tie I had specially bought for Ashton. I exited the group chat and threw the tie straight into the trash can, and blocked him on everything. Then I scrolled to the bottom of my contacts to find the one guy in school nobody dared to mess with—Ryder, the top-tier F4 racer. “Ryder, do you need a date for Prom tomorrow night?” **Chapter 1** Ashton’s words felt like cold knives cutting my heart to pieces. In Santa Monica High, everyone knew I was basically Ashton Miller’s “exclusive shadow.” To match his Prom suit, I had ordered a custom-made couture gown in the exact same color palette three months in advance. And now, he just changed his mind. Without even telling me to my face. Someone in the group chat asked him. “Aren’t you afraid Chloe will find someone else? You literally have to bring a date tomorrow.” Ashton replied with a mocking sneer. “No way. Chloe has been following me around since ninth grade. She’s head over heels for me.” “Giving her a spot as our photographer is doing her a favor. She’ll show up tomorrow with her camera, guaranteed.” The chat quickly filled with guys hyping him up, sending “Bro is a legend” texts. Then, someone else chimed in. “Don’t be so sure, man. What if Chloe actually finds someone else?” “She’s pretty popular in school too, you know. Plenty of guys want to ask her out.” Another text popped up immediately: “Did you guys forget about Ryder?” “He’s always had a thing for Chloe.” “He’s a US F4 racer. Half the girls in school are lining up to get his attention. You sure Chloe won’t give him a chance?” Ashton paused for a few seconds before typing back, his tone noticeably colder. “Bullshit.” “Ryder is nothing.” “Chloe would never look at him.” “She only cares about me. Just last week, she canceled all her plans just because she didn’t see me for a single day.” “In her world, I’m the only one who matters.” “Don’t worry. Tomorrow night, she’ll be there, happily taking pictures of me.” After that, the group chat went quiet. A long moment passed before someone cautiously typed. “Bro, that’s kind of messed up to do to Chloe.” “You should have at least told her first.” Ashton let out an annoyed “ugh” before replying. “Annoying. I’ll deal with it later.” The chat quickly went back to joking around. “To be honest, Chloe is a bit plain compared to Hailey.” “Ashton is living the dream.” … Those teasing words felt like they were crushing me. I scrolled to the very bottom of my contacts. Ryder—the resident bad boy of Santa Monica High, a rising star in the US F4 racing circuit, and the guy Ashton had unilaterally declared his arch-nemesis for the past three years. The phone rang twice before he picked up. “Chloe? Wow, you finally decided to call me. What’s up?” I spoke flatly. “Ryder, do you still need a date for Prom tomorrow?” On the other end of the line, I heard the sharp screech of car brakes. After two seconds of dead silence, Ryder’s voice came through: “For you… I’m always free.” I hung up and threw myself onto my bed. **Chapter 2** Staring at the ceiling, my thoughts began to drift. How could someone change so quickly? From ninth grade to twelfth grade, we spent four whole years together. We stayed up late studying for the SATs, and just a few months ago, he was excitedly planning our first dance at Prom. Back then, he said he wanted the entire school to envy him that night. But now, when the finish line we had both waited for was right in front of us, he suddenly let go of my hand and ran toward someone else. If he wanted to change dates, why couldn’t he just tell me? Was I really that insignificant to him? If he found me so annoying, what about his late-night promises when he whispered about our future? Were those all lies? Or was it just because the night was too dark for him to see who was actually standing by his side? I hugged my knees tightly, hiding myself in the dark, and let the tears flow. Honestly, it wasn’t like I couldn’t live without him. And I definitely wasn’t “head over heels” for him like he claimed. Every time our opinions differed, he would throw a temper tantrum. He only smiled when I went along with whatever he wanted. So, while I quietly kept up with my own life goals, I constantly made compromises for him. Ashton wasn’t wrong about one thing—I had built my future plans around him. As long as it didn’t cross my boundaries or hurt my self-respect, I was willing to compromise for the sake of love. But that didn’t mean I would let him walk all over me. I unlocked my phone, opened the meticulously planned “Prom Itinerary” and our reservation for two at the rooftop restaurant, and tapped **[Cancel All]** without hesitation. He made his choice, and I have my pride. From now on, we go our separate ways. Right after I washed my face, Ashton tried to FaceTime me. “Chloe, pick up! I need to see you!” When I didn’t answer, he sent several more FaceTime requests before finally texting. “We’re at our usual spot. Everyone is waiting for you. Hurry up, get an Uber.” But I didn’t want to go. “Tired. Staying in.” The moment I sent it, a reply popped up. “Are you sick? I’ll come over.” “No. Don’t come.” Just as I replied with a frown, Hailey sent me a Snapchat message. “I’m so sorry, Chloe. I was the one who begged Ashton to let me come. I didn’t know it would make you upset. I’m leaving right now.” “As long as you come, I don’t mind whatever happens to me.” Before I could even reply, people started spamming my name in the group chat. “Chloe, what is your problem? You can’t stand Ashton having other friends? Your jealousy is getting ridiculous.” “You’re just jealous because Hailey is prettier than you.” I froze, instinctively wanting to explain, when a message from Ashton popped up. “Chloe, I was the one who invited Hailey. If you’re mad, take it out on me. Why are you making Hailey feel bad?” “Whatever. Stay home if you want. We’re having more fun without you anyway.” Right after, they sent a bunch of photos of them partying. Someone added sarcastically: “It’s so much more fun when certain people aren’t here.” What a bunch of psychos. I immediately left the group chat and blocked Ashton’s Snapchat. In the past, no matter how much we fought, I always accommodated him. Now, out of sight, out of mind. **Chapter 3** Honestly, when Hailey first transferred to our school, she was actually my friend. Back then, Ashton even warned me, saying Hailey seemed shady and that I shouldn’t get too close to her. To help her feel included, I brought her into my friend group and even put in a lot of effort to help her get along with Ashton. But during the Homecoming pep rally, Hailey took off her nerdy black-rimmed glasses and showed up in a stunning red dress. After that night, Ashton never told me to stay away from her again. He and Hailey got closer and closer. He even took the initiative to add her to our core group chat. By the time I realized what was happening, my old friends had all turned into Hailey’s personal bodyguards. Ashton treated Hailey way too well. Once, Ashton and I had a massive fight over it and didn’t speak for three months. I told him, “If you like Hailey, I’ll step aside.” But Ashton got so panicked his eyes went red, and he held me tight, apologizing. “You’re the only one I care about.” “Hailey comes from a broken home and gets bullied at school. I just felt bad for her and wanted to help her out.” I believed him. But Ashton was just treating me like a fool. Their interactions became more and more frequent, using the word “friends” as a pathetic cover-up. Until last night, when he officially replaced me as his Prom partner with Hailey. Making me look like a complete idiot! By the time I snapped out of my thoughts, the sun had already set. My mom had come home at some point, and she smiled as she looked at me. “Did you fight with Ashton again? He said you blocked him.” “He wants you to unblock him.” I gave a vague answer and walked out the door. Our school counselor, Mr. Davis, had asked us to come in for one final check on our college enrollment portal before the system shut down. When I arrived, there was an empty seat next to Ashton. Usually, that was my spot, but Hailey sat right down in it. Ashton didn’t say anything. Instead, he naturally took Hailey’s designer handbag and set it on his lap. He kept glancing over at me. He was waiting for me to bow my head and apologize. Too bad for him, he was dead wrong this time. I turned around and sat down right next to Ryder, far away from them. “Make sure you double-check everything, guys. The college portal closes tonight, and once it’s locked, there’s no going back,” Mr. Davis yelled from the front of the classroom. Seeing me sit next to him, Ryder stopped spinning his car keys. “Well, look who finally decided to talk to me.” “Aren’t you afraid your precious Ashton will get jealous?” I didn’t offer a long explanation. My voice was calm. “I’m done with him.” Suddenly, someone tapped my shoulder. “Chloe, don’t you have anything to say to me?” I ignored him. But Ashton grabbed my arm and dragged me out into the hallway. “Chloe, are you serious right now?” “You’re throwing a tantrum and blocking me over this?” “I’m warning you, unblock me right now, or don’t ever bother texting me again.” I forced myself to look at him for a few seconds. “Okay. I wasn’t planning on texting you ever again anyway.” Ashton’s face instantly turned incredibly pale. “Fine! Don’t come crying back to me later!” I turned to walk away, but he suddenly grabbed my hand again, his eyes filled with a desperate seriousness. “Stop acting like a child. Go check your enrollment portal again, make sure you didn’t make any mistakes…” He wanted to say more, but Hailey walked up and interrupted him. “Ashton, I don’t really understand this part of the form. Can you help me look at it?” “Sure, let me see.” Ashton immediately looked down at Hailey’s tablet. I let out a sarcastic laugh and walked away. By the time he looked up to say something else, I was already back inside the classroom. “Chloe, make sure you double-check it! Carefully!” **Chapter 4** Actually, when I was checking the portal earlier, I saw the enrollment changes Ashton had made. He had secretly logged into our shared portal and changed the college preferences we had agreed on. He changed his to a school in the same city as Hailey’s. He probably thought that as long as he didn’t tell me, I would just submissively change my choice to match his, like I always did. What a joke. Since he didn’t want to bring it up, I played dumb. After all, he thought I was obsessed with him, and I found explaining things to him too exhausting. Luckily, I finally opened my eyes. Back in the classroom, Ryder saw my terrible expression but didn’t pry. He just told me to focus on getting ready for Prom tonight. That evening, I showed up at Prom as Ryder’s date. The moment we walked into the decorated venue, almost every eye in the room locked onto us. Right ahead of us stood Ashton, his face dark. I treated him like thin air, walking right past him without a second glance. When I walked past the hallway near the restrooms, I ran into Ashton and one of his friends. “Ashton, you need to tell Chloe about changing your college choice. Are you really okay with her going to a different state alone?” “Look how close she’s getting with Ryder now.” Ashton let out a dismissive snort. “What she does has nothing to do with me.” “Besides, she definitely changed her college choice already. She’s just using Ryder to make me jealous. It’s so annoying.” I froze, stepping out of the shadows and running straight into them. Ashton told his friend to leave and cornered me against the wall. “Going to Prom with Ryder without telling me? You’re really trying to test my patience, aren’t you, Chloe?” “You think this petty little stunt is going to make me jealous?” He grabbed my wrist, his voice arrogant. “Fine, I’ll let it slide. Can we make up now?” “Did you check your college portal?” Then, he added with a slight hesitation in his voice. “Did you… change yours to match mine?” I kept my mouth shut, and the silence became painfully awkward. As we stood there, Hailey walked over. “Ashton, the guys out there are teasing me. Come help me.” Then, she acted as if she had just noticed me, her voice dripping with fake surprise. “Oh, Chloe, are you here alone?” “Please don’t misunderstand, I only asked Ashton to be my date because I didn’t have one, and I’ve been looking forward to Prom for so long.” I was too exhausted to play along with her drama. Taking advantage of Ashton’s distraction, I slipped away. But before I could run off, Hailey reached out and blocked my path. **Chapter 5** “I’m so sorry, Chloe. Did I make you upset?” “I’ll leave. I just don’t want you and Ashton to fight because of me. He’s been in such a bad mood these past few days because of you, and it hurts me to see him like this.” “As long as he’s happy, I’ll do anything.” With tears welling up in her eyes, she looked like she was about to drop to her knees and beg. “What are you doing? Hailey, get up!” Ashton shoved me aside, pulling Hailey into his arms with an expression of pure worry. “Chloe, can you stop acting crazy every time you see Hailey?” “We’re going to be in the same city for the next four years. Why do you have to be so incredibly petty?” I stared at him, finding the whole thing hysterical. “Do you honestly think the way you two act is how ‘just friends’ behave?” He froze for a second, then sneered. “Oh, so you’re finally dropping the act?” “Weren’t you the one who said she was pitiful and told me to look out for her? You were the one who brought her into our circle!” I stared at his face—a face I had looked at for over ten years—and realized he looked like a total stranger. “If you love playing savior so much, why don’t you guys just date!” I turned and walked away, completely ignoring Ashton’s furious shouts behind me. “If you walk away now, don’t you ever come back!” I didn’t even look back. During the interactive game segment of Prom, the spotlight suddenly landed on Ashton and Hailey. The screen above the stage flashed the words: *“Truth or Dare / Take a Shot.”* The crowd started chanting and cheering. Hailey looked at Ashton, seemingly flustered. His friends shouted from the crowd: “Hailey, everyone is watching! If Ashton rejects the dare, you have to down three shots of tequila!” With all the cheering and whistling around them, Hailey’s face flushed red. She tried to explain, looking like she was on the verge of tears. Ashton stood there, completely still. “Ashton doesn’t want to do it. I’ll just take the shots,” Hailey said, closing her eyes and reaching for the cup. Suddenly, a hand reached out and stopped her. “You have a severe alcohol allergy. Do you want to end up in the ER?” Ashton muttered. “But what else can I do? I don’t want to ruin the vibe for everyone.” Looking at Hailey’s tearful face, Ashton lifted her chin. “You couldn’t have picked anyone else besides me?” “No.” Hailey, overcoming her shyness, grabbed Ashton’s lapels, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him. This time, Ashton didn’t pull away. Instead, he wrapped his hand around her waist and deepened the kiss. The cheers and whistles from the crowd grew deafening, but my heart felt like it had been dropped into a boiling pot of oil, burning with a searing ache. Even though I had told myself I didn’t care anymore, seeing this still hurt. Ten years of friendship and feelings can’t be ripped out without drawing blood. When I finally got home, a small pebble suddenly hit my bedroom window. It was our secret signal. For a split second, I wished I had amnesia. I leaned out the window. Standing down there was Ashton, the same guy who had just been passionately kissing Hailey at Prom. He spoke with a pleading tone. “Chloe, stop playing games. Go change your college commitment.” **Chapter 6** When I walked downstairs, I could smell the alcohol on Ashton. He was slurring his words, looking completely different from his usual arrogant self. Why couldn’t he have acted this desperate earlier? Thank God he didn’t. “Chloe, we promised we’d go to the same college.” “You’ve never been away from me. You cry if you don’t see me for a single day. I don’t want you to cry, so I’m letting you follow me…” I knew I should have slapped his face and walked away like a badass. But my feet felt glued to the driveway. I took a deep breath and shoved him away. “Let go of me.” A flash of pure panic crossed his eyes, but he quickly masked it with a clueless expression. Ashton, you are such a disappointment. Why are you still so cowardly and dishonest? “It’s almost midnight, Chloe. We need to fix this first.” He grabbed my hand, trying to use my face to unlock my phone. “Be good. The school I chose is really good. Once this is done, you can throw whatever tantrum you want.” I stood frozen. “So even now, you refuse to tell me the truth?” “You didn’t just change your Prom date. You changed the college we decided on together, too.” “Is there even a point? You already know everything anyway.” I was crazy to be wasting my time out here. I forcefully pushed him, sending him falling onto the grass. I ignored him as he screamed my name desperately from behind. “Chloe, you’re going to regret this!” Even now, he was still trying to threaten me. I turned around and waved my phone at him. “The portal is closed. It’s too late.” The expression on Ashton’s face was priceless. I went back to my room and threw myself into the darkness. One last time. I would let myself cry for him one last time. But just as the sky was turning gray, my bedroom door was pushed open by my mom. “What is going on with you two? Ashton has been waiting downstairs since dawn.”

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My family was dirt poor. To pay for my college tuition, I worked on a construction site, but I ended up getting beaten black and blue after pissing off the foreman. To keep my parents from worrying, I went to a local Urgent Care clinic alone. But there, I saw my parents—dressed in high-end luxury brands—holding another boy, waiting to get registered. “Doctor! Our precious Ryan just cut his finger with a fruit knife! Please save him!” With that, my dad threw a stack of cash at me. “Get lost, you filthy beggar. Don’t ruin Ryan’s sight.” The boy in their arms looked at me with pure disgust, like I was piece of trash. I looked at their expensive designer clothes, and then at the luxury Rolls-Royce parked right outside the clinic. Then I looked at my own dirty, torn clothes. My throat tightened. With a broken heart, I walked straight to the Army recruiting office. I never planned to see them again. Maybe I looked too pathetic, because my parents didn’t even recognize me. I stood there, frozen, staring at the expensive designer suit on the boy in my parents’ arms. Then I looked at my own shirt. It was old, didn’t fit, and had been patched up for three years because I couldn’t bear to throw it away. My heart ached. I remembered my dad giving me this shirt for my birthday three years ago. To buy it, he worked from dawn to dusk, even fainting on the construction site a few times. I saw how hard they worked, so I grew up fast. I never caused trouble. Even when I was bullied at school or mocked at work, I kept it to myself and licked my wounds in secret. Even when the girl I liked confessed to me, I smiled and rejected her out of insecurity. I knew my family couldn’t afford any mistakes. Every step of my life had to be carefully calculated. But now, I realized my parents weren’t poor at all. The only poor one was me. They gave that boy infinite luxury, yet they wouldn’t even give me the tuition deposit I needed to change my life. Tears streaming down my face, I walked out of the clinic like a ghost. People on the street avoided me, terrified I would get too close. Of course. If my own parents treated me like trash, why would strangers be any different? I went back to our rented shack. I washed off the dirt with cold water, patched my torn clothes with old rags I found, and lay on the hard wooden bed, nursing my hurts. After what felt like hours, my parents’ voices came from outside. “Ethan, come out quick!” “Look what we brought you!” My body was in pain, my lips pale. I was running a fever. I forced myself to stand and walked out. My parents were back in their cheap, dirty worker clothes. In my mom’s hands was a jacket. “We got lucky today! Your dad and I found this jacket. It just has a little stain on it. We’ll wash it and it’ll be good as new. Try it on!” My mom handed me the jacket, completely ignoring how sick I looked. So, the clothes I had been wearing all these years were just hand-me-downs from their wealthy son? What I cherished as treasure was just someone else’s trash. “And these white sneakers. Consider them your reward for getting into NYU.” My dad pulled out a pair of shoes from behind his back, smiling. Yeah. Those were Ryan’s too. He loved white sneakers. The last pair my parents brought home was also white. Maybe because I was too quiet, my mom handed the jacket to my dad and looked at me closely. She finally realized something was wrong. “Ethan, why are your lips so pale? Do you have a fever?” “Go lie down, honey. I’ll get you some medicine right now.” My dad immediately looked panicked and carried me to my room. Actually, my parents used to be good to me. I remember once, I went to the mountains to harvest wild herbs to sell. I fell off a small cliff and passed out. My dad climbed down a thirty-foot cliff with no safety gear to save me. My mom walked fifteen miles in the dark to the next town to find a doctor. But these same parents had lied to me for years. The poor parents and the billionaire parents were the exact same people. How pathetic. My mom mixed some medicine and fed it to me. She asked anxiously why I was suddenly sick. I looked into her worried eyes, forced a smile, and said, “I got hurt at the construction site and went to the clinic. But three rich people kicked me out.” “I came home and got a fever.”

Panic flashed across their faces, but they masked it in a split second. Guilt filled their eyes, and my mom’s eyes turned red. “Ethan, it’s our fault. We made you suffer so much.” “We… we failed you.” My mom started sobbing, and my dad comforted her with red eyes. In the past, I would have comforted them like a mature adult, telling them that once I graduated from college, we would have a better life. But now, I just sat there in silence. Even if I graduated and worked for ten years, I probably couldn’t even afford one tire of that Rolls-Royce. Seeing that I wasn’t comforting them, they stopped acting. My dad cleared his throat, put on a warm smile, and took over my usual role. “Well, we might be poor, but we have a great son. Ethan got into NYU! Once he graduates, our family will be set.” He was going to be disappointed. Even if I worked for ten years, I couldn’t afford that lifestyle. My mom wiped her tears and smiled. “I can’t wait to live the good life.” Hearing this, I bit my lip and finally asked, “Mom, Dad, I still don’t have enough for the enrollment deposit. I’m short $800.” “Can you… help me out?” My heart pounded. This was the first time I had ever asked them for money. I had saved enough from my construction job, but my coworkers stole it, and the police couldn’t find them. College was my only ticket out. I couldn’t lose it. For something this important, they would surely give me the money, right? I looked at them with hope. Hesitation flashed across my dad’s face, but it quickly disappeared. He sighed. “Ethan, can you find another way? Maybe borrow it from a classmate?” “You know our situation. Your mom’s surgery cost us a fortune, and we’re still in debt. We really don’t have $800.” My mom’s eyes went red again. She lowered her head. “It’s all my fault. I’m dragging this family down. If Ethan can’t go to college because of me, I’d rather just die!” Her words felt like a bucket of ice water poured over my head. My entire body went numb. I looked at the white sneakers on the floor. Those shoes alone probably cost more than $800. In that moment, I realized Ryan wasn’t just stepping on those shoes—he was stepping on me. They knew how much college meant to me, yet they were so stingy. I forced a smile and looked down. “Okay. I’ll ask a classmate.” I climbed back into bed and pulled up the blanket. My parents exchanged a look. Finally, my mom walked over, forced a smile, and said, “Son, don’t be sad. Today is your birthday! We’ll make you a great dinner tonight.” My dad walked over too, grabbing my hand. “You’ve been wanting that smoked brisket, right? I’ll slice it up for you tonight.” I nodded. Their faces lit up with joy. Just then, my dad’s phone rang. He suddenly looked very tense. I glanced at the screen. The caller ID said: “Baby Boy”. It must be Ryan. Must be nice to have a phone. I didn’t even have one. “Ethan, get some rest. We’ll take this call outside.” My parents, who were just showing me so much love, walked out together. To make sure I didn’t overhear, they went all the way to the yard. But they forgot one thing in their rush—I had excellent hearing. I could hear them perfectly from this distance. I peeked through the door crack. My dad frowned, keeping his voice low. “Didn’t we tell you to text us? What if your brother finds out?” Ryan’s whiny voice came through the receiver: “Dad, Mom, I cut my finger today. It hurts so much~” “Can you guys come home and stay with me tonight?” My parents looked at each other, then back at our front door, hesitating. Ryan’s voice dropped. “I guess I’m just not as important as Ethan. ‘Sniff’…” My parents immediately panicked. “Of course not! Your brother can’t even compare to a single hair on your head.” “Yeah, sweetie. You’re our favorite.” Hearing this, Ryan cheered up. “I knew you loved me most! I’ll be waiting at home!” He hung up. My parents headed back inside. I quietly climbed back into bed. Maybe because of the cold, I started coughing. Hearing me, they rushed in with worried faces and patted my back. That evening, they made a feast, including the smoked brisket I loved. But they were dressed up, ready to go out. “Ethan, we just got a call for a quick gig. We can make $200 tonight.” “That means you’ll only need $600 for school. We’re sorry we can’t spend your birthday night with you.” I coughed, nodded, and smiled as I ate a piece of brisket. My parents looked relieved, walked out, and gently shut the door. I chewed the dry, salty meat, my smile turning into tears that dripped into my bowl. What was I expecting? I was never their favorite child. Under the cover of night, I walked over to our neighbor’s house and borrowed his phone to call the military recruiter who had been trying to reach me. “Sergeant Carter, if I join the Army’s Closed Training Program… will my college tuition really be fully covered?”

Hearing this, Sergeant Carter was thrilled. He told me that not only was tuition free, but room and board were covered too. It was just tougher than regular college. But I had suffered my whole life. What was a little more hard work? After hanging up, I went home and slept. I had a strong immune system, so I was mostly recovered by the next morning. My parents came back, holding a small cake. But a slice was missing, like someone had already eaten from it. “Ethan, we couldn’t get you a cake yesterday, so we got you this today!” “And here is the $200 we made last night. Take it. Don’t worry, we’ll get the rest of your tuition.” They handed me the cake and the money, but I pushed them away. “I don’t really like cake. Too sweet.” “As for tuition… I borrowed it from a friend. You don’t have to worry.” They were stunned for a moment, but didn’t push. They left the money on my nightstand for pocket money. “We met a very generous boss. We’re going to work for him for the next two weeks. Take care of yourself, Ethan.” “Oh, and watch out for scammers. If anyone tells you weird things, don’t believe them. When we get back, we have a huge surprise for you.” Then, they rushed off. Two weeks? That was exactly when I was scheduled to leave. A week later, fully recovered, I used the advance money Sergeant Carter sent me to get my military physical at the hospital. But when I got back, the yard was a mess. My few cherished belongings were scattered all over the dirt. Ryan was sitting in the yard, surrounded by several bulky bodyguards, looking at me with utter contempt. Just like he did at the clinic. I stood there, frozen. “You don’t know me, do you? I’m your brother. Our parents are actually the richest family in this city.” “But they don’t like you. That’s why they raised you like a beggar~” His words felt like glass shards grinding into my heart. “Look at this trash you cherish. It’s all stuff I threw away. My dog’s collar is worth more than all of this combined.” “I never understood how someone with such a trashy life could smile so much. Every time I see your face, I want to rip that smile off.” I did smile a lot. I smiled at my parents, at my school bullies, at the cruel foreman. Because life was hard, and smiling was my only defense. My eyes burned, and my fists clenched to stop my body from shaking. “Why? I’m their biological son. Why would they do this to me?” Ryan smirked, laughing in my face. “Why? Because they don’t love you. You were just a mistake. They wanted to drown you when you were born, but our grandparents wouldn’t let them. That’s the only reason you’re alive.” “But once they had me, grandparents finally let them dump you in the slums. I guess I’m just too lovable~” “Anyway, I’m here because the family inheritance is being decided soon. I don’t want anyone getting any funny ideas, so I’m here to warn you.” My mind went blank. I stumbled backward. So, I was abandoned by everyone from the very beginning. With a hollow chest, I forced out: “Don’t worry. I won’t fight you for the inheritance.” “You couldn’t even if you tried. Mom and Dad love me, not you.” With that, Ryan threw a few hundred-dollar bills on the ground and swaggered away with his guards. I didn’t touch the money. I just silently packed up my ruined things. Once I was done, I left the house I had lived in for eighteen years and checked into the military academy early. A week later, my parents finally returned. They were dressed in high-end luxury clothes, carrying countless expensive gifts. “Ethan, come out! We have great news!” “Actually, we are…” My dad stopped mid-sentence. The only thing waiting for them was a silent, empty house.

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Five years after a car accident left me paralyzed, I signed my organ donor registry form. As my heart began to fail, I called my mother, wanting to hear her voice one last time. “Chloe, why don’t you just die already? Stop ruining everyone’s lives!” “You shouldn’t even be drawing breath in this world!” When she slammed the phone down, I smiled. Because I was finally going to die, just as she wished. But when my cold corpse ended up on her operating table, she completely lost her mind. Today was my birthday. I sat alone in my wheelchair in my cramped basement apartment. Just like every other year, there was no one else here. It was just like my mother always said—my birth was a disgusting mistake. I didn’t deserve to celebrate. Staring into the pitch-black room, a crushing weight pressed down on my chest. It felt like something was expanding inside me, stealing my air. Ever since the accident paralyzed me, I had signed up to be an organ donor. Knowing my time was short, I had already notified the donor registry staff. As the suffocating pain intensified, I knew it was finally ending. It was an agonizing sensation I’d never felt before. It felt as though an invisible hand was squeezing my heart to pieces. Every breath felt like inhaling frozen needles, piercing my lungs. Yet, in that final moment, I didn’t know if I felt sad or incredibly relieved. Tragic, painful memories flashed before my eyes like a broken film reel. The feeling in my limbs was slipping away completely. With the last bit of strength in my fingers, I picked up my phone. I slid my thumb across the screen and dialed that all-too-familiar number. I knew this would be my last connection to the living world. The call connected. My heart skipped a painful beat. “Chloe, what is wrong with you? Why are you calling to annoy me again?” Eleanor’s voice crackled through the speaker, dripping with absolute disgust. “Mom… I think… I’m dying,” I whispered. My voice trembled, yet I sounded strangely at peace. Her tone didn’t soften for a second. “Chloe, what kind of sick game are you playing now? Are you not tired of lying to get attention?” “It’s real this time…” My breath hitched. The last word took every ounce of energy left in my body. “Fine! Do us all a favor and just die already! Stop being a curse on everyone!” “You shouldn’t even be drawing breath in this world!” “Beep. Beep. Beep.” The line went dead. In the final second of my life, a smile touched my lips. I finally did what she wanted. I died. Shortly after my soul detached from my body, the paramedics arrived. My lifeless body slumped in the wheelchair looked horrifying in the dark, empty basement. They bowed their heads to my corpse, covered me with a white sheet bearing the red cross, and wheeled me into the ambulance. I thought my soul would finally drift away into the afterlife. But a powerful, invisible force dragged me along, keeping me tethered to my physical body. Organ donors are sent to different hospitals depending on which facility needs the match immediately. As the streets outside the ambulance window grew familiar, my ghostly heart tightened. The ambulance pulled up to Westside General Hospital. This was a place I had visited in my nightmares a thousand times. This was where my mother, Dr. Eleanor Thorne, worked. It was the only place I knew I could ever find her. People bustled through the busy hallways. My invisible spirit floated past the doctors and nurses. And then, I saw her. The woman I couldn’t forget even in death. She was laughing. She looked happier than I had ever seen her. Beside her, another surgeon was prepping for a procedure. “Eleanor, you’re so lucky. You finally found a matching liver for Maya.” A few young nurses nearby chimed in. “I heard the donor is the exact same age as Maya. What a tragedy for the donor’s family. They must be devastated.” “Dr. Thorne loves Maya so much. She spent a fortune to bump her up on the priority list. Maya is so lucky to have a mother like you.” A nurse said while organizing the surgical instruments. “Every mother loves her child. It’s only natural to want them to be healthy,” Eleanor replied, her lips curving into a warm, gentle smile. “Every mother loves her child.” I let out a bitter, silent laugh. Even as a ghost, I could feel a stinging pain where my heart used to be. “But Mom… wasn’t I your daughter too?” Eleanor pulled out her phone and sent a Snapchat to Maya. The contact name was saved as “My Precious Angel.” As she swiped back to her main chat screen, my eyes caught another contact name. Saved right below “My Precious Angel” was “The Mistake.” That was me.

Her phone rang. The screen displayed “My Love.” Eleanor picked up the call and stepped out of the office, telling the staff to double-check everything. I followed the medical team into the operating room. Under the harsh, sterile white lights, I looked down at my own corpse. They began preparing me for the extraction. Seeing the nurses work, it finally clicked. My liver was going to Maya. I couldn’t escape that name in life, and now, I couldn’t escape it in death. Maya was the daughter of Eleanor’s high school sweetheart, Richard Vance. Back then, Richard came from a poor, troubled family. My grandparents were completely against Eleanor marrying him. My dad, Arthur, loved Eleanor deeply. He did everything to win over her family—paying off her brother’s college debt and buying them expensive gifts. Eventually, my grandparents forced Eleanor to marry my dad. Even though my dad treated Eleanor like a queen, she never loved him. My early childhood with my dad was the only happy time of my life. But then, the factory explosion happened. My dad died on the job. Eleanor didn’t hesitate. She divorced his memory, packed her bags, and left. But to my surprise, she took me with her. I used to think she kept me because she loved me. Only later did I realize the sick truth: she kept me because she wanted to make sure I was miserable. She projected all her hatred for my father onto me. She forbade me from ever contacting my dad’s side of the family. I was so desperate to make her happy that I obeyed. I never reached out to my grandparents, terrified of making her angry. Looking down at the cold metal table, I watched the surgeons make the first incision on my chest. Surprisingly, I felt a strange sense of peace. My mind drifted back to my childhood. I remembered my dad always greeting me with a big, warm hug. Meanwhile, Eleanor would stand in the corner, staring at me with icy eyes. Whenever I tried to grab her hand, hoping for a tiny bit of warmth, she would violently push me away. “Mom, why do you hate me so much?” I had asked her once with childlike innocence. She never answered. She just stared at me, her eyes filled with dark resentment. Now, I finally understood. Her heart was consumed by hatred. Hatred for my dad, and hatred for me. She poured all that poison onto me, leaving me to grow up isolated and helpless. And her hatred only grew a hundred times worse after Maya entered our lives. My legs became paralyzed during my freshman year of college. That day, Eleanor had taken Maya shopping for designer clothes. I was dragged along just to carry their heavy bags. While crossing the street, a speeding SUV came barreling toward me. The impact sent me flying. I crashed onto the asphalt yards away. The pain was blinding, and then my vision started to fade. Through the haze, I saw Eleanor and Maya slowly walking over. Maya looked at the bloody shopping bags on the ground, frowning in disgust. “Ugh, my new clothes are ruined! I can’t wear these now.” Eleanor gave me a look of pure revulsion. Then, she turned to Maya, her voice instantly turning sweet. “It’s okay, sweetie. I’ll buy you new ones.” “Honestly, Chloe, you are such a curse. Bringing you out was a mistake.” Those were the last words I heard before I blacked out. After the accident, I wasn’t kept in the hospital for long. The initial scans didn’t show any major spinal fractures. But soon, my legs began to lose sensation. Sometimes, I even lost control of my bladder. When I realized something was seriously wrong, I begged my mother to take me to a specialist. But she didn’t hesitate to scream in my face. “You useless leech! You just want to drain every penny I have, don’t you? You’re a liar! Just like your pathetic father!” She ripped my self-esteem to shreds. Maya stood right behind her, arms crossed, watching the show with a smirk. The stress made me lose control, and I wet myself right there in the living room. Maya let out a dramatic shriek, pinching her nose in disgust. In my most vulnerable moment, Maya’s scream felt like a knife slicing through my soul. Her face was twisted in mockery. Tears streamed down my face. No one comforted me. No one even came near me. Eleanor glared at me, her face pale with disgust. “This is repulsive! Mom, kick her out! She’s disgusting!” Maya yelled. Eleanor raised her hand and slapped me hard across the face. “Clean this mess up right now!” Choking on my tears and shame, I dragged my useless legs across the floor to clean up my own waste. Later, Eleanor claimed a massive settlement from the driver’s insurance. But she only threw $500 at me and forced me to move out. That $500 was barely enough to rent a damp, converted garage studio at the edge of town. And that was where I spent the hardest years of my life.

To me back then, $500 was everything. But that money didn’t bring me any warmth. It was just a brutal reminder that I was completely unwanted in this world. Fortunately, my landlord, Mrs. Gable, took pity on me. She lowered my rent from $300 to $100 a month. As the days crawled by, my condition worsened. I lost all control over my bodily functions. Every time it happened, I felt an overwhelming wave of shame and despair. I tried calling Eleanor, begging her to help me get medical care. But her response crushed the last bit of hope I had left. She told me, “You’re a leech. You brought this on yourself. You deserve it!” In my darkest moments, I wanted to die. I wondered if she would feel even a shred of regret or sadness if I was gone. But then I realized she would probably throw a party. She would finally be free of me. I tried my best to keep my dignity. I kept my tiny garage room spotlessly clean. But no matter how much I scrubbed, the heavy scent of decay and despair never left my mind. While I fought for my life in that freezing room, Eleanor and Maya lived in luxury. They lived in the spacious house my father had left behind. Maya’s room was overflowing with expensive makeup and designer clothes. I, on the other hand, wore rags and used a squeaky, second-hand manual wheelchair. Eleanor treated Maya like a fragile princess. I was treated like trash. Every time I thought about it, my heart felt like it was being pierced by needles. I remember once, about six months after my dad died. I saw Maya running around our front yard, her laughter ringing out so happily. I tried to talk to her. I thought if I made friends with her, maybe Mom would love me a little more. “Maya, do you want to play with me?” I asked, trying to sound cheerful. Maya stopped and looked at me with pure disdain. “Why would I play with a dirty rat like you? You don’t belong here.” But everything she owned, the very ground she stood on, was paid for by my dad. As my health deteriorated, I started fainting frequently. Once, I collapsed near the sidewalk and a kind stranger called 911. When the hospital contacted Eleanor, she didn’t show a single ounce of worry. Instead, she coldly told the doctor: “Why are you wasting your time saving her? She should have died a long time ago.” The doctor stared at her in utter disbelief. I lay on the hospital bed, my tears blurring the bright ceiling lights. I had prayed so hard for just a drop of love from her. But I finally knew it was impossible. During my final days, I never tried to call her again. I knew her heart only belonged to Maya. I was just a stain she wanted to scrub away. Signing that organ donor form was my final choice. I wanted to believe that a part of me could go on living, doing something good for someone else. How ironic that my liver was destined for Maya. I was so envious of her. It felt like the entire universe existed just to serve her happiness, while my life was just a sacrificial offering. I watched the surgeons carefully extract my liver and place it in the cooler to transport it to Maya’s operating room. Eleanor didn’t participate in the extraction, but she was the lead surgeon for Maya’s transplant. When the container holding my liver was handed to her, Eleanor knit her brows. She froze for a few seconds, staring at the organ container. Maybe mothers and daughters really do have a subconscious connection. But the feeling quickly passed. She threw herself into the surgery. I could tell she was incredibly nervous. When the transplant was finally completed, she let out a long sigh of relief. She wiped the sweat from her forehead, changed her scrubs, and prepared to head to Maya’s recovery room. Right then, her phone buzzed. It was Mrs. Gable. I suddenly remembered I hadn’t paid this month’s rent. “Hello, is this Chloe’s mother? Chloe hasn’t paid her rent this month. I went to check on her, but the door was locked and no one answered. I’m really worried…” Mrs. Gable’s voice was gentle and filled with concern. “Enough! What does her rent have to do with me? If she didn’t pay, throw her trash out and kick her onto the street! Stop calling me with her drama!” Eleanor snapped. Mrs. Gable tried to speak, but Eleanor hung up without giving her a chance. “Useless brat,” Eleanor muttered under her breath. She unlocked her phone and sent me a text—the first text she had initiated in years. “You worthless parasite, if you’re going to die, do it quickly. Don’t ruin my life. Pay your rent now. If your landlord calls me again, I’m cutting you off completely. You can starve on the streets for all I care!” She had completely forgotten that she hadn’t sent me a single dime in over two years. She tossed her phone onto her desk. Outside the office, a couple of nurses were gossiping. “Hey, did you hear? The liver donor for Dr. Thorne’s daughter was a paralyzed girl. She lived all alone in a converted garage. It’s so tragic. How could her parents be so heartless?” “Maybe she was an orphan. Poor girl.” Eleanor froze. Her head snapped up. She stood still for a moment, then shook her head, trying to dismiss the thought. She reached for her phone again. Underneath it lay a copy of the organ donor registry sheet that had been sent over with the organ. Her eyes accidentally grazed the bottom of the page. When she saw the signature, her face drained of color…

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During the category 4 hurricane evacuation, my mother completely ignored my broken leg. She pushed me off the rescue boat with her own hands, forcing me to give up my spot for my sister. “Mom, my leg is broken. I want to go with you…” “Stop being so dramatic!” “You’re the older one. You should let Chloe go first!” “You’re a grown girl, why are you being so selfish? Do you really have to fight with Chloe at a time like this?” I never showed up at the shelter. When others urged her to call me, she just sneered. “She’s just throwing a tantrum to make me worry!” “I always knew Hazel was an ungrateful brat! She’s doing this on purpose, ignoring my Snapchat messages and calls!” “If you’re so brave, don’t you dare ever call me again!” But, Mom, I wasn’t throwing a tantrum. I just didn’t have the chance to answer anymore. The hurricane howled, carrying a torrential downpour that quickly flooded the first floor of our house. The crowd of evacuees huddled on the second-floor balcony, everyone desperately trying to get onto the rescue boat. My jeans were soaked in blood. Just minutes ago, when we were running downstairs, my half-sister Chloe had shoved me from behind, sending me tumbling down the steps. I grit my teeth, trying to stand by putting all my weight on my uninjured leg. But the moment I managed to crawl onto the boat, a cold, firm hand gripped my shoulder. I looked up. It was my mother, Eleanor. Without a single word, she violently shoved me off the deck. “Hazel, get off! Get off right now! Give your spot to Chloe!” Her voice was frantic, but there wasn’t a shred of warmth in it. I crashed onto the wet ground. A sharp, blinding pain shot up my spine. My injured leg went completely numb. Our neighbor, Mrs. Gable, gasped in horror and tried to stop her. “Eleanor, Hazel’s leg is badly hurt! Let her stay on the boat! Let her go!” But Eleanor didn’t hesitate. “She’s fine. Hazel is tough. Besides, she’s practically an adult. She can wait for the next boat.” She said it so casually, her voice dripping with impatience. My heart sank into a cold abyss. My vision blurred. After pushing me away, Eleanor turned around and pulled Chloe into a tight embrace on the boat. Chloe wrapped her arms around Eleanor’s waist, tears streaming down her face, refusing to let go. “Mom, please, I want to go with you too…” my voice cracked, muffled by the rain. Eleanor looked down at me, her eyes freezing cold. “You are the older sister, Hazel. You should let Chloe have this. Why are you still trying to compete with her at a time like this?” “But my leg is broken! Mom…” “Enough! Stop being so dramatic. Be responsible for once. Your leg isn’t going to fall off. Can’t you just wait for the next trip?” She gently patted Chloe’s back, soothing her like a precious baby. It was a gentle touch she had never, not once, given to me. The rescue boat’s engine roared to life. As I watched their silhouettes fade into the grey sheet of rain, my chest felt completely hollow. Mrs. Gable’s voice cut through the wind. “Ever since you divorced her father, Hazel lived with Grandma Martha. She barely comes visit you. How can you be so cruel to her?” Eleanor sighed, her voice laced with irritation. “Just looking at her face makes my stomach turn. She ruins my mood.” I stood there alone. Rain mixed with tears flowed down my cheeks. The entire world suddenly felt incredibly distant and freezing cold.

After they were evacuated, they were taken to the local high school gymnasium, which was serving as a temporary red cross shelter. The voice from the emergency radio broadcast drew everyone’s attention: “Latest update—water levels in the southeast district are rising rapidly. Debris has blocked the main roads, making it extremely difficult for rescue teams to enter…” An anxious chatter broke out in the gym. Hearing this, Mrs. Gable immediately rushed to Eleanor’s side. She lowered her voice, her eyes wide with panic. “Eleanor, did you hear that? The water is rising too fast in the southeast! Our neighborhood is right in that zone. You need to contact Hazel right now to see if she made it out!” Eleanor merely frowned. There was no panic on her face. She just waved her hand dismissively. “She’ll be fine. Hazel knows how to swim. Nothing will happen to her.” Her tone was so indifferent, as if she were talking about a complete stranger rather than her own daughter. Mrs. Gable snapped, grabbing Eleanor’s arm. “Her leg was ruined! Aren’t you worried at all? It looked broken! How is she supposed to swim like that? What if something terrible happens to her?” Eleanor let out a soft, mocking laugh. “Broken? She probably just bruised it. Kids these days are so fragile.” She rolled her eyes. “Back in my day, we went through much worse and still went to work the next day. Kids today can’t handle a single scratch.” Right at that moment, Chloe let out a tiny sneeze. Eleanor’s face instantly changed, as if an emergency button had been pressed. She immediately bent down, frantically feeling Chloe’s forehead. “Oh my god, sweetheart, did you sneeze? Are you catching a cold? Are you cold? Does your head hurt?” Her voice was trembling with anxiety, her face pale. She became a completely different person. She stood up abruptly, pulling Chloe toward the medical corner. “Come on, we can’t wait. We need to see the shelter doctor right now. A cold could turn into pneumonia!” She held Chloe’s hand tightly, walking slowly to match her pace, terrified that her precious daughter might experience the slightest discomfort. All her anxiety, care, and love were poured onto Chloe. And that was a kind of warmth I had never experienced in my entire life.

By nightfall, the shelter was brightly lit. People began to settle down on their cots, trying to get some sleep. Yet, there was still no word from me. Mrs. Gable couldn’t take it anymore. “Eleanor… maybe you should call Hazel again? It’s so late. What if she’s stranded?” Eleanor sighed in annoyance and pulled out her phone. Every movement she made showed her frustration, as if I were nothing but an annoying chore. “You guys just spoil Hazel too much. She’s definitely throwing a tantrum, hiding somewhere just to make me feel guilty,” she muttered through gritted teeth, her eyes filled with resentment. She dialed my number. But all she got was a long, endless ringing. No one picked up. Her expression darkened instantly. “See? I told you! She’s doing this on purpose. What an ungrateful brat. She has zero consideration for me! Always talking back, always trying to steal Chloe’s spotlight. She’s practically an adult and still behaves so selfishly. She is completely ruined.” Mrs. Gable wanted to say something, but Eleanor had already lost her patience. She aggressively locked her phone and threw it into her bag, as if cutting off her very last connection to me. “I am not playing her games! You think I’m going to call her again? No way! If she wants to play dead, she can go ahead and never call me again!” Just then, Chloe gently tugged at her sleeve, looking terrified. “Mom, it’s so dark here. I can’t sleep.” In an instant, the rage on Eleanor’s face vanished, replaced by a soft, loving smile. She knelt down and whispered tenderly, “Don’t worry, sweetie. Mommy is right here. I’ll stay with you.” She stroked Chloe’s hair, hummed a soft lullaby, acting as if there was nothing more important in the world than putting her younger daughter to sleep. Meanwhile, her other daughter was left alone in the freezing storm, clinging to life. My safety, my life, meant absolutely nothing to her. Her eyes only saw Chloe. Her heart only held Chloe. My existence was nothing more than an inconvenient burden.

The next morning, Grandma Martha arrived at the shelter, her face pale with worry. The moment she saw Eleanor, she didn’t even bother with a greeting. She went straight to the point. “Where is Hazel? Why is only Chloe here? Why didn’t you bring Hazel with you?” Eleanor rolled her eyes, her voice dripping with annoyance. “Look at how you spoiled her! She is throwing the most ridiculous tantrum right now. Who knows where she ran off to? She won’t even answer her phone. She’s doing this just to spite me!” Grandma Martha’s face fell, her voice shaking with repressed anger. “Hazel is not that kind of girl. She would never play games during a natural disaster. Think, Eleanor! Where could she be? Why aren’t you out there looking for her?” “Look for her? I called her last night, and she ignored me! How is that my fault?” Eleanor sneered. “She’s old enough to walk. Was I supposed to carry her onto the boat? I had Chloe to protect! I couldn’t just abandon Chloe for her. You’ve coddled her since she was a baby, and now she’s turned into this selfish, stubborn brat!” Grandma Martha’s hands trembled, her voice cracking. “I coddled her? That’s because you never wanted her! You dumped her on my doorstep. When have you ever acted like a real mother to her? And now you’re blaming me?” Eleanor looked defensive, her voice rising. “I let you raise her because you insisted! Besides, how can you say I don’t love her? She’s just difficult and always goes against me!” Just then, a police officer in a high-visibility jacket walked into the gym. He scanned the crowd, his face grave, and walked straight toward Eleanor. “Excuse me, are you Hazel Vance’s family?” Eleanor frowned, turning to Grandma Martha with a smug look. “See? I told you she was fine. She probably got herself brought here by the cops just to make a scene.” She turned to the officer, her voice filled with condescension. “What did she do this time? She always loves making a scene to get attention. Did you find her? Was she fighting with someone? Or did she cause some trouble? Just tell me what kind of embarrassing stunt she pulled this time.” She shook her head, sighing dramatically, ready to lecture me. However, the officer didn’t smile. He looked down, silent for a painful moment, before speaking in a low, heavy voice. “Ma’am, I am so sorry for your loss… We recovered Hazel Vance’s body.”

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