Category: English

My mother-in-law just had a baby. She expects us to legally adopt him, put him on our health insurance, and raise him as our own. Why on earth should we? It’s not like Ethan and I can’t have kids. When I refused, she threatened to kill herself. But here’s the kicker—I’m pregnant too. Then, she hired a “night nanny” who was a little too perfect. She didn’t just take care of the baby; she breastfed him. She even slept with him in her arms every night. She didn’t act like a nanny. She acted like the baby’s biological mother. And then, I uncovered the sickening truth. They were actually trying to force me to abort my own baby! I suddenly got a call from my mother-in-law, Brenda. “Stella, come pick me up from the hospital. I’m going to stay at your place for a while.” Brenda was in the hospital? Why hadn’t Ethan mentioned a single word about this to me? I quickly packed my things and rushed to the address she gave me. St. Mary’s Women’s Hospital. I frowned. This didn’t fit Brenda at all. She was almost sixty. Having a baby? Was this some kind of sick joke? Following Brenda’s directions, I walked up to the postpartum ward. The door was ajar. Brenda was sitting on the bed in a hospital gown, a soft beanie on her head. And in her arms, she was holding a newborn! A baby! Where did a baby come from? “Brenda, whose baby is this?” Brenda’s tone was sharp and impatient. “Whose do you think? Mine! Since you refused to give me a grandchild, I had to make one myself to carry on the family line. Now he’s yours to raise.” What?! What kind of twisted logic was this? My anger surged straight to my brain. Using every ounce of self-control, I demanded, “Brenda! You had a baby? Where is Richard? Does Ethan know about this?” Just then, my father-in-law, Richard, walked in. “Honey, we’re good to go. The discharge papers are all signed.” Brenda immediately started bossing me around, telling me to pack her bags. I was too stunned by the sight of the baby to react. I completely missed the calculating, greedy looks Brenda and Richard exchanged. I quickly stepped out and called my husband. “Ethan, your mother just had a baby. Did you know about this?” Ethan stammered, instantly giving away that I was the only one kept in the dark. “So… what is she saying now?” he asked nervously. “She wants to move into our house! Did you guys plan this together?” I raised my voice on purpose. If he dared to agree to this, I was going to lose it. But before Ethan could even reply on the phone, Richard started yelling at the top of his lungs in the hallway. “Stella! What is your problem? Your mother went through so much pain at her age just to give you guys a child, and you’re planning to just abandon her?” Brenda chimed in dramatically, “Exactly! If you dare kick us out, you’re heartless! I’ll sue you for elder abandonment!” Her voice was strong and loud. She didn’t sound like a woman who had just given birth at all. But I was so blinded by rage over this sudden “brother-in-law” that I didn’t notice how weirdly energetic she was. I took a deep breath and roared into the phone, “Ethan! Get to the hospital right now! If you don’t explain this to me, we are done!” But all I could do was vent my anger on Ethan. Did I dare to actually scream back at his crazy parents? We had been married for two years, and I had long known how unreasonable his parents were. I hated myself for being so blind to marry Ethan in the first place. He was a total mama’s boy. If his mother told him to jump, he’d ask how high. Their whole family was a bunch of Oscar-level actors. Fortunately, Ethan had always been sweet to me, and we didn’t live with his parents, which was the only reason we had managed to keep the peace. But a baby is a human being, not some stray puppy you can just take in on a whim. Richard got in my face, pointing a finger at me. “Stella, how dare you speak to Ethan like that? Do you have any respect for your husband? Is this how you treat him at home?” “Exactly! In our family, the husband is the king. A wife like you just needs to be taught a lesson!” Brenda added. I finally got it. She had clearly never been put in her place. “Richard, Brenda, this is between Ethan and me. Please stay out of it.” Interfering in their son’s marriage—didn’t they feel any shame? “What did you just say?!” Richard puffed out his chest, trying to intimidate me. “We are family! I am your elder! What’s wrong with teaching you a few rules? A woman shouldn’t be shouting at her husband like a maniac!” He was trying to play the dominant patriarch, but right then, Ethan finally arrived.

How did he get here so fast? I looked at him with suspicion. Ethan rubbed his nose uncomfortably—his classic tell when he was lying. “Uh, I was just meeting a client nearby, so I came right over. Are we ready? Let’s go.” He reached for the bags. I didn’t have the energy to argue with him right then. “Fine! Let’s drive your parents back to their house!” Brenda immediately bolted upright from the bed. “Of course we’re going to your place! I need to recover. Who’s going to cook and look after me at my house?” I stared at Brenda. She suddenly shrunk back, hiding behind Richard as if she was scared of me. Richard chimed in, “Where else would we go? Your apartment is huge and has spare rooms. Plus, the baby is so small and Brenda is weak. How can she manage alone?” I saw right through them. This was a carefully planned ambush. They knew I would never agree if they asked beforehand. Ethan looked incredibly torn. “Babe, look at her. It’s going to be a disaster if they go back to their place. My dad’s back is bad, so he can’t help. They’re my parents. I can’t just leave them to suffer.” Richard let out a few timely, theatrical coughs. It’s always easy to let trouble in, but impossible to get rid of it. “No!” I said firmly. “We both work full-time. We don’t have time to take care of a newborn. If they stay with us, the baby will cry all night, and we won’t get any sleep. How are we supposed to work?” Richard’s face darkened as he stared at Ethan. “Ethan, this is your mother and your baby brother.” I had no choice but to compromise slightly. “We’ll hire a professional night nanny! We’ll pay for it!” “No way,” Brenda snapped. “Nannies are strangers. We don’t trust them. Besides, a nanny can’t handle both me and the baby. It’s too much work.” Then what about Richard? He was perfectly capable of moving around. Why couldn’t he help his wife of thirty years? Before I could object further, a nurse walked in to clear the room. “Room 18, we need this bed cleared for the next patient. Please pack up.” Ethan grabbed my hand. “Babe, please. Let them stay for just one month so my mom can recover. I’ll hire a nanny to do all the work so it won’t bother you. We’ll just be there to help out in case of emergencies.” Seeing my icy expression, Ethan quickly added, “Just one month. I promise, they won’t bother you. Once the month is up, they go home. I swear.” With the nurse pushing us out, I couldn’t resolve this right now. I had to swallow my anger and let them come to our place first.

Because of this baby, my life was turned completely upside down. The moment we walked through the door, Brenda headed straight for our master bedroom. “This room is nice and big, has great sunlight, and a king-sized bed. Perfect for us.” I took a step forward to stop her. Ethan quickly pulled me back. “Babe, it’s just for a month. Let them have it. For the sake of peace, let’s not fight over this.” Fine. I would endure it. Richard didn’t lift a finger. He sat straight down on our sofa, turned on the TV, and didn’t say a word. Ethan and I had to unpack all their bags, make the bed, and arrange the baby stuff. We worked for over an hour. During that time, Richard didn’t move an inch. He actually ordered Ethan to pour him water twice and wash some fruit for him. He was acting like a king in my own home. “When is dinner ready? Are you trying to starve me?” Richard grumbled. That did it. I grabbed the remote and slammed the TV off. Ethan quickly stepped between us. “Dad, we’re really busy here. Why don’t you go downstairs and grab some takeout? We haven’t eaten either.” Richard held out his hand. “Give me cash.” Ethan pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and handed it over to get rid of him. I went into the kitchen to make some simple oatmeal. Just then, the baby woke up and started wailing. I didn’t know how Brenda was soothing him, but the crying wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t help but walk over to check. Brenda was holding the baby, clumsily patting his back, but the baby was screaming hysterically. “Brenda, is he hungry?” “Uh… I don’t know,” she muttered. She didn’t know? Her son Ethan was thirty years old, and she didn’t know how to tell if a baby was hungry? This family was utterly useless. “Ethan! Go make some formula!” I called out and walked away. They were clearly trying to bait me into taking care of the baby, but I wasn’t going to fall for it. Soon, I heard Brenda’s voice from the room. “Oh, Ethan, you’re a man. How do you know how to do these things?” I ignored it, shut the kitchen door, and focused on cooking. They could play their games all they wanted, but I was going to eat and go to work. They had calculated everything. But if I refused to play along, let’s see what they would do. I made up my mind right then. For the next month, I would work late every single day. I was not touching that baby. I quickly made a vegetable soup, fried some rice, and set the table. As I went to call them for dinner, I heard Brenda whispering to Ethan. “Ethan, she’s not helping at all. What do we do? You can’t expect me to actually look after this kid. My back is killing me.” “Mom, give it time. Don’t rush. Stella isn’t heartless. Once she sees how much you’re struggling, she’ll step in. Don’t worry.” *Wow. Thank you, Ethan. So because I’m not ‘heartless,’ I’m supposed to play maid to your whole family?* I didn’t even bother calling them to eat. I ate my portion, packed my bag, and got ready for work. Just then, Richard finally returned. It took him longer to buy takeout than it took me to cook a meal. He was holding a bottle of whiskey in one hand, a box of fried chicken, and some sides in the other. He was incredibly selfish. “Richard, my mother-in-law can’t eat fried chicken and heavy food right now.” “Hmph! That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it? You expect an old man like me to cook for her?” I didn’t even want to look at him. I walked to the bedroom. “Ethan, I’m leaving. I have a lot of work to finish at the office this afternoon.” The door flew open. “Babe, wait! I have to go to work this afternoon too!” “And? I already made dinner. Your mom can eat that.” Ethan’s face instantly brightened. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my cheek. “You’re the best, babe. Thank you so much.” I gave him a tight smile and left. At that moment, I was incredibly grateful that I had a career. When we first got married, Ethan’s family tried to pressure me to quit my job and focus on getting pregnant. I refused. Having a job didn’t stop me from getting pregnant. Plus, we were young, and there was no rush. His parents had been extremely passive-aggressive about it—until I showed them my pay stub. I made a third more than Ethan. Before that, Ethan made $9,000 a month, which his parents bragged about to all their relatives, acting like I had struck gold by marrying him. But when they saw my $12,000 monthly income, they finally shut up.

I didn’t rush home after work. I had just taken on a new project and needed to write a proposal. I decided to work overtime in the peace of my office. At 7:00 PM, Ethan called. “Babe, when are you coming home?” I sipped my coffee. “I’m working late tonight on a big project. Don’t wait up for dinner.” I hung up. At 8:00 PM, Ethan called again. “Babe, it’s getting late. It’s not safe. Please come home.” I looked at the clock. “Oh, it’s already past eight? I’m so exhausted. This project determines my year-end bonus, Ethan. I have to finish it.” Ethan went silent. I thought he had hung up, but then I heard the baby screaming bloody murder in the background. All he said was, “Okay… don’t push yourself too hard.” I would rather suffer at work than go home and be treated like a slave. At 9:30 PM, Ethan called yet again, sounding panicked. “Stella, the baby has a fever. I have to take him to the ER. Can you please come home right now?” Hearing that the baby was sick, my heart softened. I guess it was just natural maternal instinct. “Don’t panic. I’m on my way.” But the moment I unlocked the front door, a wave of fury hit me so hard I wanted to burn the whole place down.

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That day, while waiting to pick up my daughter from school, a viral interview clip popped up on my phone. A woman on the screen was smiling, bragging about how she had once convinced her boss not to rescue his kidnapped fiancée from the wilderness. “It was good for her to suffer a bit,” she said smoothly. “Otherwise, once she married into the family, who would be able to keep her in her place?” In the video, her hand, with its bright red nails, brushed past her ring finger. Inside the band of her ring was a tiny, custom wave pattern—a design I had handdrawn myself. It turned out that behind my back, my husband had already hooked up with his secretary. It turned out that the three days I spent kidnapped and terrified didn’t even compare to one of his business deals. My life was nothing compared to the profit in his eyes. I didn’t want to love Julian Vance anymore. Vivian Sommers’s POV On my way to pick up Chloe from her afterschool art class, I saw a viral interview clip on TikTok. The caption was eyecatching: What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done but never admitted to? The camera didn’t show the woman’s face. It only focused on her hand resting on the rim of a coffee cup. Her nails were painted a striking scarlet red. She spoke in a casual, airy tone, as if she were telling a harmless story from the past. “I used to work for this billionaire CEO.” “He had a fiancée. She came from a wealthy family and had a pretty fiery temper.” “Once, she was kidnapped and held in the mountains. My boss was right in the middle of signing a massive merger. I convinced him not to go save her right away.” “I told him, ‘Let her suffer a bit. It’ll humble her. Otherwise, how are you going to manage her once she wears your ring?’” Someone in the studio let out a soft laugh, but the room quickly fell quiet. The woman laughed too. “Who knew she was so fragile? She completely broke after that night. They had to send her to a private psychiatric facility, locked away for years. Looking back, I don’t think I did anything wrong. If she hadn’t gotten out of the way, I wouldn’t be where I am today.” I pulled over at the intersection. The wind was howling outside. Dead leaves scraped across my windshield. I stared at the screen, my eyes locked on the ring on her finger. That ring wasn’t from a luxury brand. I had drawn the sketch myself years ago. Inside the band, there was a tiny, delicate wave pattern. I had designed it specifically for Julian to wear on our wedding day. But that ring never made it to the altar. Instead, it ended up on Mila Hayes’s finger. The comment section was already in chaos. Some called her evil, some demanded to know who the CEO was, and others dug up old news articles, remembering a highprofile kidnapping of a wealthy young heiress in Boston years ago. I didn’t click on those articles. I already knew what was under those old headlines. There would be photos of me running into Julian’s press conference, wrapped in a dirty, torn coat. There would be pictures of the raw, unhealed bruises on my wrists and ankles. People would be speculating if I had lost my mind, wondering why I chose that exact day—Julian’s biggest triumph—to ruin his moment. Back then, I was a broken mess, while Julian stood under the bright lights, with a perfectly styled Mila standing right by his side. Even after all these years, I still remembered the way he looked at me that day. It wasn’t pity. It was embarrassment. The car behind me honked loudly. The light had turned green. I tossed my phone onto the passenger seat and started the car. As I turned the corner, my phone buzzed again. A text from an unknown number popped up: Vivian, are you okay? The only person who would call me that had lost the right to ask that question a long time ago. I deleted the message and parked in front of the art school. Chloe ran out with her little backpack bouncing on her shoulders, her cheeks flushed, holding a drawing tightly in her hand. “Mommy! I drew the wind today!” I knelt down to catch her in my arms, smiling. “How do you draw the wind, sweetie?” Chloe nodded seriously. “You can! See, the trees are bending, and the girl’s dress is flying. That means the wind is here.” I held her close. Yes. The wind is invisible, but it always leaves a mark. Just like the past. Chloe kept talking excitedly in the back seat about how one classmate drew a purple sun, and another drew a dog that looked like a potato. I listened quietly, watching her in the rearview mirror. A child’s world is so small. A single piece of paper is their entire sky. Sometimes, I felt so grateful that Chloe didn’t know how easily adults could lie about love, or how quickly they could throw you away. My phone was on silent, but it kept vibrating inside my bag. I didn’t answer. I used to rush to answer Julian’s calls the very second they rang. I was always terrified of making him angry, terrified of him thinking I was spoiled, terrified of losing my chance to hear his explanation. But now, the phone was buzzing, and I could still drive, still pick up my daughter, and still put dinner on the table. My world didn’t end. When we got home, Chloe taped her “wind” drawing to the fridge. Looking at the crooked trees and the flying dress, I smiled. If the wind had to blow, I hoped this time, it would blow the old dust far, far away.

Vivian Sommers’s POV Before I turned twenty三, I believed my life would always be perfect. I was the treasured daughter of the Sommers family. I played the violin, performed at solo concerts, and had a private driver to take me everywhere. Julian Vance was a young, ambitious guy my father had brought into the company after the Vance family went bankrupt. He was smart, resilient, driven, and extremely handsome. Everyone said we were a perfect match. I was the crown jewel of the Sommers family, and he was the brilliant young man who would run our business one day. I believed that too. Until the day before our engagement rehearsal, when I stepped out of the bridal boutique and was dragged into an unmarked van. Those men hadn’t planned it on a whim. They knew exactly who I was. They knew Julian was about to sign a massive, careermaking logistics deal, and they knew the Sommers family was backing him. They didn’t just want a simple ransom. They wanted Julian to freeze the deal and pay a massive deposit to secure my safety. I wasn’t scared at first. I believed my parents would save me. I believed Julian would come for me. But the first day passed, and nobody came. The second day passed, and still, nothing. On the third night, I heard my captors cursing outside the door. “That bastard Julian Vance used her to climb to the top, and now that she’s in trouble, he doesn’t give a damn. He’s holding his press conference right now. He hasn’t sent a single dime. He’s coldblooded.” I curled up in the corner, my hands completely numb from the ropes. I wanted to scream at them. Julian wouldn’t do that. He just doesn’t know yet. But the guard threw his phone in front of me. On the screen was a live broadcast of the signing ceremony. Julian, wearing a sleek, dark suit, was standing on the stage, accepting applause. Mila stood right behind him, adjusting his tie. She did it so naturally, as if she had done it a thousand times. The reporter asked him if today was the most important day of his life. Julian looked directly into the camera and said, “Yes.” My heart shattered. The captor told me to make one last call. When the line connected, Mila’s voice came through first. “Vivian? Julian is busy right now.” My voice shook. “Put him on the phone.” Mila let out a soft, mocking laugh. “Stop making a scene, Vivian. This deal can’t wait. Julian said he’ll handle your situation once this is over.” I was trembling with terror. “I’m going to die!” The line went silent for a second. Then, Mila lowered her voice. “Then learn your lesson. Stop acting like the entire world revolves around you.” The call went dead. The kidnappers’ faces turned dark. They thought they had a winning card in their hands, but all they got was Julian’s silence and my family’s hesitation. I only found out later why my parents had hesitated. On that very same day, they had received a secret DNA test report. I wasn’t their biological daughter. Julian was the one who had handed them that report. He told them their real daughter had died in infancy, and that I was just a child mixed up in a hospital error years ago. Arthur and Evelyn Sommers felt like their sky had fallen. They still loved me, but the grief of losing their real daughter paralyzed them. While they were drowning in shock, Julian naturally stepped in and took full control of the situation. And he chose to sign his deal first. During those terrifying days, I heard my name mentioned constantly by the guards. Sometimes they said the Sommers heiress was worth millions. Sometimes they said she wasn’t worth a dime. They said men like Julian Vance knew exactly how to play the devoted fiancé, but when it came down to choosing between a woman and his career, he was as cold as ice. Those words felt like a physical blow to my chest. At first, I was angry, but eventually, I didn’t even have the strength for anger. I started counting the cracks on the wall. One, two, three. I counted until dawn, and then I started over. I was terrified that if I stopped, I would see Julian standing on that stage, saying “Yes” to the camera. That wasn’t the man I thought I was going to marry. That wasn’t the man who held an umbrella over me in the rain, or the boy who promised he would never leave me. It doesn’t take years for a person to become a stranger. It only takes one choice.

Vivian Sommers’s POV I was held in an abandoned wedding venue deep in the mountains. The walls still had faded, peeling “Just Married” banners. At night, the cold wind howled through the broken windows, rustling the plastic ribbons. It sounded like someone was laughing at me in the dark. The kidnappers had been careful with me at first. But when they realized no money was coming, their patience wore thin. I was beaten, and they forced me to pose for terrifying photos. The physical pain was nothing compared to the agonizing realization that I had been abandoned. I found a moment of chaos during a shift change and ran. It was pouring rain. The mountain paths were pure mud and rock. I didn’t know how long I ran. I only remember the sharp rocks slicing open the soles of my feet. The pinky finger on my left hand was broken, and it would never fully straighten again. In the distance, I saw bright lights. I ran toward them. It was the venue for Julian’s celebration party. Large screens lined the hall, reading: A New Era: Strategic Partnership. The room was filled with reporters, investors, and employees. I was wearing a torn, dirty plastic tarp I had found in a shed. When I stumbled into the bright hall, the entire room fell dead silent. Every single camera turned toward me. I saw Julian. And I saw Mila standing right next to him. I reached my hand out to him, my voice barely a whisper. “Julian… save me.” Julian’s face turned incredibly dark. He stepped down from the stage, but he didn’t hold me. Instead, he stood in front of the cameras, blocking their view of me, and whispered, “What are you doing here?” I froze. I was covered in blood and mud, barely able to stand. And his first question was why was I here. Mila walked over with a polite, gentle smile, offering me a blanket like a saint. “Vivian, please don’t ruin the press conference. You’re making things very difficult for Julian.” I grabbed Julian’s sleeve. “They beat me, Julian. They threatened me. I called you… why didn’t you come?” A flash of irritation crossed Julian’s eyes. “I sent Mila to negotiate with them,” he said. “You could have just waited. Why did you have to crash this event today?” It felt like a knife twisting in my chest. “Wait?” My voice shook violently. “How long was I supposed to wait?” Julian lowered his voice, hisswhispering so the mic wouldn’t catch it. “Vivian, you used to be so sensible. Why can’t you just behave?” Behave. There it was again. I finally understood. Mila hadn’t come up with that phrase on her own. The press conference quickly descended into absolute chaos. Though Julian managed to scrub the internet of the worst stories, some photos still leaked. People whispered that the Sommers heiress had lost her mind, that she was throwing a tantrum to ruin her fiancé’s big day, and speculated about what had happened to me in the mountains. Nobody asked if I was hurt. Later, in the dressing room, Mila handed me the DNA test results with a smug smile. “Do you really think the Sommers family will still burn the world down for you?” she mocked. “You’re just an outsider who got swapped at birth. Julian is being incredibly generous by keeping you around.” That was the moment I realized the ground beneath my feet had been completely swept away. My parents remained silent. Julian was cold. And Mila stood by, watching me fall from grace. That night, they kept me in a small holding room next to the venue. Outside, the staff were packing up. Trash cans clattered, and damp footsteps marked the carpet. I sat in the corner of the sofa, wrapped in the blanket, but I couldn’t stop shivering. Outside the door, people were gossiping. “Was that really Vivian Sommers?” “Looked like her. But how did she end up looking like a street dog?” “Julian is so unlucky. His biggest night completely ruined by her.” I listened to their whispers, feeling a deep, hollow absurdity. I had almost died in those mountains, but their first reaction was that Julian was unlucky. When you are broken enough, even being the victim makes you an embarrassment. Julian came in once. He stood near the door, keeping his distance, and told his assistant to take me to the hospital. I looked up at him, hoping he would come with me, but his phone rang, and he turned around to answer it. In that second, I stopped pretending he was just too busy. He simply didn’t care about me anymore.

Vivian Sommers’s POV They took me back to the Vance estate. Julian publicly claimed I was “recovering from trauma.” My adoptive parents never came to see me. They only sent a lawyer with a trust fund agreement, stating it was the final settlement they could offer for my future. Money. By then, I didn’t know what money could possibly buy back for me. I ate on time, slept on time, and sat through sessions with the therapists they brought in. Julian told me not to look at the news, so I didn’t. He told me never to mention the kidnapping, so I kept my mouth shut. Everyone said I was finally “behaving.” Only I knew the truth. I was terrified. I was terrified of being locked away again, terrified of being abandoned, terrified that my screams would be treated as another dramatic scene. But the hardest part was Julian’s touch. Whenever his hand brushed mine, my entire body would shake violently. Even though I knew he wasn’t one of the kidnappers, my body remembered the dark cabin in the mountains. Julian put up with it at first. But eventually, his patience ran out. One night, after a celebration dinner, he came home smelling heavily of alcohol. I was sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to massage my crooked pinky finger. He stared at my bandaged hand, and his first words were, “How much longer are you going to act like this?” I looked up. “I’m trying to get better.” “Better?” Julian let out a cold laugh. “I’ve waited long enough, Vivian.” He reached out to pull me toward him. Panic seized me. I scrambled back, knocking over the bedside lamp. The ceramic shattered with a loud crash. In the blinding panic, I grabbed a heavy bronze paperweight from the nightstand and threw it at him. It struck his forehead, drawing blood. Mila was the first to burst into the room. She didn’t ask what happened. She just screamed for the guards. “Call the doctor! She’s having another episode!” The next day, I was sent to a highsecurity private psychiatric facility. Julian signed the papers himself. He looked at me through the glass and said, “Vivian, when you’re stable, I’ll take you home.” I stood behind the locked doors, watching the heavy metal gates slam shut. I knew he was never coming back. From the moment I crashed his press conference, Julian didn’t see me as his fiancée. He saw me as a problem that needed to disappear. I stayed in that facility for a very long time. Seasons changed. I finally accepted that I would never be the happy twentythreeyearold girl again. And then, the doctor delivered another piece of news. I had been pregnant. But the baby didn’t survive. When the doctor told me, it was raining outside. I lay on the cold white bed, the red marks from the leather restraints still visible on my wrists. When I heard “we couldn’t save the baby,” I didn’t cry. I was just numb. I hadn’t even known I was pregnant. I didn’t know that during my darkest nights, a tiny life had been quietly keeping me company. Then, the grief hit me like a tidal wave. It froze my hands and feet, choked the air out of my lungs, and finally broke through my chest in a scream. I thought I had already lost everything. My identity, my parents, my fiancé, my violin. But fate wasn’t done with me. It took the one tiny soul I never got to hold. That night, for the first time, I sobbed so hard the entire ward could hear me. When the nurses rushed in, I curled into a ball, whispering, “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” I didn’t even know who I was apologizing to. For a long time after that, I couldn’t bear to hear the sound of a baby crying. Whenever a visitor brought a baby down the hall, I would pull the blanket over my head and dig my nails deep into my palms. The doctor didn’t force me to recover quickly. He only made me write one sentence every day: I am still alive today. At first, my broken finger made the handwriting look like chicken scratch. But eventually, I was able to fold the paper neatly and place it in my drawer.

Vivian Sommers’s POV I saw Julian again years later, right outside Chloe’s school. Years had passed since those dark events. I had cut my hair short and opened a small antique restoration workshop, fixing old jewelry, instruments, and picture frames. Since my left pinky wasn’t fully functional, I had learned to work at a much slower pace. I thought I had built a quiet, invisible life. Until Mila’s TikTok interview went viral. Julian stood outside the crowd of parents, wearing a long dark coat. He looked much thinner and more exhausted than I remembered. When he saw me holding Chloe’s hand, he froze. Chloe hugged my leg. “Mommy! I wasn’t the last one picked up today!” I stroked her hair. “Good job, sweetie.” Julian’s eyes drifted to Chloe’s face. His voice was cracked and hollow. “Is she… yours?” I pulled Chloe slightly behind me. “She has nothing to do with you.” “Vivian.” Hearing my name from his mouth felt strangely familiar, yet it stirred absolutely nothing in my chest. Just a dull, heavy tiredness. Julian took a step forward. “I saw Mila’s interview. I swear, Vivian… I didn’t know she did that to you back then.” I looked him dead in the eye. “You didn’t know she told you not to come? Or you didn’t know I was actually being hurt?” Julian choked on his words. “I thought the guards were keeping an eye on you, that nothing serious would happen,” he stammered. “I thought you were just shaken up. I never imagined…” “You never imagined it because you never bothered to ask.” My voice was quiet, but Chloe felt the tension and gripped my hand tighter. Seeing her reaction, Julian’s eyes welled with tears. “How old is she?” “None of your business.” “Is she… mine?” “No,” I cut him off. “Chloe is adopted. You can run a background check if you want, but stay away from her.” Julian stood frozen on the sidewalk. He stared at me, finally seeing the hollow spaces those painful years had left on my face. “Why didn’t you contact me after you were discharged?” I almost laughed. “Julian, you signed the papers to lock me away, and you didn’t visit me once in years. Now you’re asking why I didn’t call you?” Julian’s face went entirely pale. I helped Chloe into her car seat and buckled her in. Julian instinctively reached out to block the door, scraping his knuckles against the metal frame. I looked at the thin line of blood on his hand and said coldly, “Move.” Julian whispered, “I just want to make it up to you.” “Then stay away from me.” I made sure Chloe was safe inside, slammed the door, and locked the past outside. Chloe was very quiet in the back seat. After a few blocks, she whispered, “Mommy, did that man know you?” My knuckles were white against the steering wheel. I didn’t want to drag my daughter into the mess of my past, nor did I want her to know how cruel people could be in the name of love.

Vivian Sommers’s POV “Yes,” I said softly. “But we haven’t spoken in a very long time.” Chloe thought about it. “He made you sad.” My heart softened. “You could tell?” “Yeah,” Chloe nodded. “Your smile didn’t look real.” I pulled over to the side of the road, turned around, and adjusted her scarf. “Mommy’s okay. We’re going to have dinner at Maya’s house tonight, okay?” Chloe’s eyes lit up instantly. “With strawberry cupcakes?” “Yes, with strawberry cupcakes.” Dr. Maya Sterling was the therapist I had met at the recovery center. Over time, she became my closest friend. She was the one who helped me navigate the adoption process after I got out. Back then, my doctor had suggested I get a pet to help with my anxiety. But during a volunteer trip to an orphanage, I met Chloe. She was a tiny, quiet thing, holding a stuffed rabbit that was missing an eye, standing far away from the other kids. I fixed the rabbit’s eye for her. After that, she followed me everywhere, quietly calling me “big sister.” Eventually, she started calling me “Mommy.” I knew that when I first brought Chloe home, it wasn’t entirely selfless. I had lost a child, and I had lost the ability to ever have another. Chloe was like a tiny nightlight, illuminating the dark, empty corners of my broken heart. But over the years, I realized she was never a replacement. Chloe was Chloe. She was picky about her food, hated waking up early, drew weird pictures of the wind, and would clumsily offer me tissues whenever I woke up from a nightmare. I would never let Julian Vance near her. That night, I dropped Chloe off at Maya’s place and went back to my workshop alone. As expected, Julian was waiting by the door. He looked like he had been drinking, his eyes bloodshot, clutching a dusty wooden box in his hands. “These are your things from back then,” he said, his voice trembling. “I kept them.” I didn’t reach for it. The box probably held old photos, the brooch from my engagement dress, and invitations to a wedding that never happened. Julian believed that if he could just gather the broken pieces, he could glue the past back together. But the thing that broke wasn’t a photo. It was me. Julian cracked the lid open. I saw a glimpse of a pale gold wedding invitation and an old brooch. It was a butterfly brooch, studded with tiny diamonds, that I had worn for my twentieth birthday. I used to love it so much. I thought butterflies were beautiful and light, as if they would never have to touch the dirt. Now, looking at it, I felt absolutely nothing. “I’ve kept them all these years,” Julian repeated. I looked at him. “When you were hoarding these trinkets, did you ever stop to think about how I was surviving in that facility?” Julian’s hand froze. He kept those beautiful things to pretend I was still unbroken. As long as he didn’t look at the real, shattered me, he could pretend we had just had a misunderstanding, that we were just victims of Mila’s lies. Julian began talking rapidly, his words stumbling over each other. He said the DNA report had shocked my adoptive parents so deeply they collapsed, and he had to take charge of the company to keep things stable. He said the logistics deal affected thousands of employees’ livelihoods, so he couldn’t stop it. He said Mila told him the kidnappers were just trying to scare the Sommers family, and that they wouldn’t actually hurt me. I listened to him, entirely detached.

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In the darkness, my throat felt incredibly tight. My limbs were completely numb. The smell of gas was suffocating… If this went on, my parents and I would all die here. I fumbled in the dark, trying to stand up and open the window, but my knees buckled, and I collapsed onto the cold floor. Through the dim light, a pair of familiar, custom-made leather shoes appeared in front of me. My brother had arrived. It was Austin. “Austin… help me… please…” I had no strength left. I reached out, trying to grab the hem of his pants, but he raised his foot and slammed it hard onto my fingers, grinding them into the floor. Two years ago, my parents and I finally found Austin, who had been missing for eighteen years. We gave him everything he wanted—money, power, status. We practically handed the family business to him on a silver platter. We did everything to make up for the eighteen years we had lost. But I never would have guessed that my own flesh and blood wanted nothing but my life. “Does it hurt, Chloe?” Austin turned the gas valve to the absolute maximum. He knelt down, staring at my face with a cold, sadistic sneer. “When Lily died, she suffered a thousand times more than this!” “Dying the exact same way as her is your only chance to beg for her forgiveness in hell!” Who was Lily? Oh. The daughter of the adoptive family who raised him. Memories rushed back into my fading, oxygen-deprived brain. The excruciating pain of suffocation kept me from making a sound. Lily… Lily… Just for a toxic, calculating girl, you had the heart to murder your own biological sister! As his footsteps faded into the distance, my breath stopped completely. I became nothing but a cold corpse.

“Chloe! Chloe, sweetie, wake up! We have to go pick up Austin today!” A familiar voice echoed in my ears. I felt the powerful, steady beat of my heart. The sensation of blood flowing back through my veins and my body warming up was incredibly surreal. I opened my eyes and saw my parents sitting at the edge of my bed. “Our little girl is usually an early bird. What happened today?” “She was probably too excited to sleep last night, knowing she’s finally meeting her brother!” I was reborn. I had gone back to two years ago—the exact day we were supposed to bring Austin home! After a long drive, we finally arrived at the house of the couple who had raised my brother for eighteen years. They held my parents’ hands, putting on a show of fake warmth. “These eighteen years haven’t been easy! But we’ve always treated Austin like our own flesh and blood!” The bedroom door creaked open. Austin walked out, holding the hand of a fragile-looking teenage girl. They stood right in front of us. Before my parents could even say a word, Austin fell to his knees with a loud thud. “Dad, Mom, Lily is pregnant with my baby. If you want to take me back, you have to take her too.” The moment those words left his mouth, the expressions of both my parents and his adoptive parents completely changed. “What? What did you just say?” Mrs. Miller, who had looked so sweet a moment ago, rushed forward and slapped Austin hard across the face. “Lily is only sixteen! She hasn’t even finished high school or taken her SATs yet! How could you do this to her?!” The girl named Lily, who was about my age, looked incredibly weak. Tears streamed down her face as she threw herself over Austin, shielding him from her mother’s blows. “Mom, don’t blame Austin! It’s my fault.” “We both drank too much that night… and then…” She didn’t forget to cast a shy, loving glance at Austin through her tears. Then, sobbing like a delicate flower in the rain, she turned to my parents and bowed her head deeply. “Austin and I love each other. Please, Mr. and Mrs. Vance, please let us be together!” Seeing his wife play the bad cop, Mr. Miller stepped in to play the good cop. He looked at the two young lovers kneeling on the floor, and then turned to my parents with a deeply troubled expression. “Since it already happened, nobody wanted this.” “How about this? Let Lily go back with Austin. She can have the baby first, and they can get registered once they are of age. What do you think?” I stood in the corner, sneering at the masterpiece of a show this family was putting on. *Treated him like their own son? True love?* What a family of actors. They didn’t even blink while lying through their teeth. In my past life, this seemingly kind couple had found out that Austin was the long-lost heir of the multi-billion-dollar Vance Group. They immediately had their underage daughter seduce him to get pregnant, even faking a medical report just to force her way into our wealthy family. In this life, I would never let their scheme succeed. Watching Lily defend him so selflessly, Austin’s eyes filled with immense pain and affection. My parents, not knowing the truth, assumed it was Austin’s fault. They hesitated, unsure of whether to agree to Mr. Miller’s proposal. In my past life, I thought a teen pregnancy would ruin Austin’s reputation and destroy the family’s image. So, I advised my parents to give the Millers a massive payout of one million dollars as hush money, rejected the marriage proposal, and asked Lily to get an abortion and start over. The Millers happily took the money, staged a fake suicide scene of Lily “dying of grief,” and secretly sent her abroad with the cash. Austin, completely brain-washed by love, believed that my parents and I had said something horrible to Lily, driving her to commit suicide with their unborn child. From that day on, he hated me, and he hated our parents. While Lily was living her best life in Europe with our one million dollars, my parents and I were ended up dead or ruined because of Austin’s baseless hatred. This time, I walked over before anyone else could speak. I gently helped Lily up and glanced at her perfectly flat stomach. Lily flinched, taking a half-step back. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the flash of panic on Mrs. Miller’s face. *Afraid I’ll find out the pregnancy is fake? Desperate to climb the social ladder?* “Dad, Mom, let’s just bring Lily home with us,” I said, smiling warmly. “I actually really like her. I’m sure she and I will have so much to talk about.” Hearing my words, Lily let out a visible sigh of relief. She smiled, grabbing my hand, and spoke in a sugary-sweet voice. “Thank you, Chloe. We are going to be the best of friends!” I sneered inwardly, though my face maintained a perfect, sweet smile. *I’d love to see how long you can hide your little secret right under our noses.*

And just like that, Lily moved into the Vance mansion with Austin, completely unofficial. At first, she tried to maintain a peaceful facade with me. But slowly, her greedy and selfish nature began to show. Whenever my parents weren’t looking, she would bark orders at Maria, our housekeeper, like she owned the place. “Maria, I already told you I don’t drink cold tea. Go change it right now.” “I don’t drink bottled water that costs less than ten dollars. It’s bad for the baby.” As an art and design major, I was working on a clay sculpture in the living room one afternoon. She walked by, dramatically covering her nose, trying to start a fight. “Oh my god, Chloe! Does this clay emit formaldehyde? That is extremely toxic for the baby!” I didn’t even bother looking at her. “If it were toxic, I’d be dead by now. Stop crying about it.” She immediately turned around and ran to complain to Austin. Austin stormed in, took one look, and smashed my graduation project—which I had spent over a year working on—into pieces. He glared at me with pure disgust. “Don’t you know Lily is pregnant? Why are you still messing around with this garbage in the house?!” This wasn’t the first time she had picked a fight to ruin my relationship with Austin. But I didn’t care. My brain-dead brother was someone who, in my past life, was willing to murder his own sister for a girl. I already knew he was beyond saving, so I had zero expectations for him. Since the day he came back, I never gave him a warm face. Austin, on the other hand, put on the full pompous show of being the “rightful male heir.” He treated me like his mortal rival, constantly trying to push me out of the Vance Group and put me down. In my past life, because I wanted to make up for those lost eighteen years, I did everything I could to help him get familiar with the company. Because of Lily’s “death,” he had worked tirelessly out of sheer spite and hatred. Powered by revenge, he actually managed to run the company quite well within a year. But in this life, with his sweet underage wife by his side and a fake heir in her belly, he had become incredibly arrogant. He Picked fights with me every single day, learned absolutely nothing about actual business, and spent all his time doting on his wife, muttering nonsense like, “My primary duty as the heir is to protect the next-generation heir.” Today, we went to the headquarters for a board meeting. The meeting was about whether to upgrade or shut down an outdated supply chain. Austin raised his hand, speaking with immense confidence. “I believe any supply chain that can’t keep up with technology should be shut down. Keeping it is just a waste of company resources.” That supply chain was indeed outdated. He wanted to cut the entire department to save costs and maximize profit. On paper, it sounded great. But he completely ignored the lives of hundreds of factory workers and over a thousand employees in that division. How could that be a smart business decision? I raised an objection. “I suggest we allocate a portion of the budget to upgrade the technology of the existing factories. This avoids the cost of building new ones from scratch. We save on recruitment and training costs while keeping our experienced workforce. What do you all think?” The moment I finished, the board members relaxed and nodded in approval. “Chloe, you are so young, yet you handle major corporate decisions so cleanly. You have a great future ahead of you!” Before Austin came back, my parents had trained me as the sole heir. I had been running around the business world with them since I was a kid. Even though I was younger than Austin, I had far more experience. When it came to handling tricky corporate issues, he was nowhere near my level. So, he decided to target the company’s newest, highly anticipated project.

My parents wanted to invest in a new luxury maternity and baby care brand, offering a premium, all-in-one service from pregnancy to postpartum care. Since Austin was a guy, he obviously had no advantage here. My parents handed the project proposal directly to me. That night, while I was brainstorming ideas for the project, I walked past Austin and Lily’s bedroom. I heard some very explicit sounds coming from inside. *I guess a fake pregnancy is convenient—you don’t even need to worry about birth control.* After some heavy panting, I heard their pillow talk. “Austin, I really want to help you with the business.” “Your sister is the one your parents love. You saw how they treated her at dinner today.” “If we don’t grab the power now, it’ll be too late once your parents hand the company over to Chloe!” Lily’s voice was incredibly soft and manipulative. She knew exactly how to trigger Austin’s insecurity. “So, what do you want to do?” “Well, I’m pregnant. Why don’t you let me run the new maternity brand?” Holding his sweet girl in his arms, my brother probably forgot his own name. He agreed instantly. “Okay, okay. I’ll beg Mom and Dad tomorrow to make Chloe hand the project over to you.” At the breakfast table the next morning, Lily smiled warmly at my parents. “Chloe has never been a mother before. But I’m literally carrying the next-generation Vance heir! This project is just so much more fitting for me!” She grabbed my mother’s hand and placed it on her completely flat stomach. “Mom, feel that? Your grandson can’t wait to make you proud!” “If I can build a successful brand while carrying him, he’s going to grow up to be so smart!” My parents smiled warmly, saying all sorts of sweet things. In a situation like this, it was almost impossible for them to say no. She kept calling them “Mom” and “Dad,” using her fake pregnancy to guilt-trip my parents and force me out of the project. *Do you really think you can fly that high? Sure, let me help you fly all the way to the sun.* I smiled sweetly, wrapping my arm around her shoulder in a show of sisterly love. “Let Austin and Lily do it, Mom. I really don’t mind.” “I can’t wait to see how smart the baby is when he’s born, either.” Seeing that I didn’t object, my dad went along with it and handed the project over to Lily. Since I had always been highly competitive, my mother noticed something was off. She came to my room that night to talk to me. “Chloe, if you don’t want to give it up, I can get it back for you.” “This is the company’s biggest new launch in five years. It’s a massive opportunity!” Of course, I knew how valuable the opportunity was. But my graduation exhibition was just around the corner, and I was busy restoring the sculpture my idiot brother had smashed. In my past life, Lily had been sent to Europe, so she had some basic education. But in this life, with Austin’s promise of making her a “wealthy billionaire’s wife,” she had dropped out of high school. She knew absolutely nothing about business. With a person like her at the wheel, even a mountain of gold would turn to trash. I didn’t need to worry about her threatening my inheritance at all. There would be a thousand other business opportunities, but graduation only happened once. I wasn’t going to let them ruin my chances of graduating with honors. I gladly handed the maternity project to her. I wanted to see what kind of mess this fake-pregnant girl would make. With Austin’s help, Lily actually managed to make the maternity brand look quite successful initially. I wasn’t sure how things were running internally, but her marketing campaigns and celebrity endorsements certainly created a massive buzz. The brand was trending on Instagram and TikTok, and several competitors even started copying their aesthetic. It looked like a highly mature brand. But how could competitors be copying them when they hadn’t even established a solid customer base yet? How exactly did she achieve this?

From the very first day Lily moved into our house, I had been quietly keeping tabs on her. I didn’t care about my idiot brother, but I couldn’t let her harm my parents or ruin the foundation of the Vance Group. After Austin came back, my parents gave him a monthly allowance of $150,000. Almost all of it went straight to Lily, who immediately wired it to her parents’ bank accounts. I knew that human greed was a bottomless pit. Giving them $150,000 a month would only make them crave millions. I needed to make my parents realize what was happening. Or better yet, cut off her cash flow completely. I started spending money lavishly. I bought my mom a $150,000 Hermès bag and ordered a limited-edition luxury watch for my dad. “Lily has no job, but she just bought her parents a brand-new luxury car.” “Since I actually earn my own money at the firm, it’s only right that I spoil my parents too!” My parents’ faces turned incredibly stiff. I knew they had never liked Lily’s background. Given Austin’s status, he could easily marry a wealthy heiress, not a girl from a cheap, manipulative family. They had spent decades building their empire from scratch. If there was one thing they hated, it was freeloaders. Before Lily was officially married into the family, they would never tolerate Austin funding her entire family’s lifestyle with our money. That night, my parents called Austin into the study with extremely stern expressions. I didn’t know the details of their conversation, but Austin walked out with a pale face. Later that night, I could hear Lily sobbing in their room. Austin’s $150,000 monthly allowance was officially canceled. My parents gave him a low-level desk job with a fixed monthly salary of just $5,000. Austin knew I was the one behind it, and he refused to look me in the eye for months. Not that I cared. I didn’t need to lock eyes with a dog who had murdered me in my past life. I was afraid his sheer stupidity would rub off on me. But to my surprise, he and Lily actually managed to pull off a massive win with the new maternity brand. Thanks to the massive hype surrounding the launch, the Vance Group’s stock price surged. My dad was full of praise for them during dinner. “Lily has never studied business, but she’s running this new launch beautifully!” “She’s even sharper than Chloe!” I smiled, chiming in with my parents. “Of course! How could my little skills compare to Austin and Lily?” “It must be the baby in her belly bringing us good luck. That’s why the project is going so smoothly.” As I spoke, Lily’s expression froze for a fraction of a second. *Of course there’s no baby. In a few months, the truth will come out.* Seeing the happy atmosphere, I struck while the iron was hot. “Since things are going so well, why don’t we throw them an engagement party?” “We can celebrate the brand’s success and finally make Lily’s place in the family official!” My parents were extremely pleased with Austin’s performance. They officially appointed him as the CEO of the new maternity subsidiary, and made Lily the VP and legal representative. Overnight, Austin became the star of the company, overshadowing me completely. Whenever he walked down the hall, employees bowed and greeted him as “Mr. Vance Junior.” As we walked out of the office one afternoon, Austin intentionally shoved his shoulder into mine. “Chloe, don’t you dare try anything at the engagement party.” “With the resources I have now, taking full control of the entire group is only a matter of time.” “When that day comes, crushing you will be as easy as stepping on an ant.” What a wonderful brother. Not even married yet, and he was already threatening his sister for his wife. The idiot still had no idea that Lily’s pregnancy was fake, and that she was using him. I let out a soft, amused laugh. “Don’t worry, Austin. I promise your engagement party will be absolutely unforgettable.”

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I have been able to smell people’s emotions since I was a child. Sweetness meant love. Bitterness meant grief. And a sharp, spicy sting meant anger and disgust. During my ten years with Julian, his scent had never changed. It was always a sweet, comforting vanilla—so sweet it could rot your teeth. The only time it changed was the night my sister, Jasmine, moved abroad. When Julian came home late that night, the scent radiating from him was so bitter it made my stomach turn. But back then, I didn’t connect the two events. It wasn’t until three years later, when Jasmine came back to get married. That day, Julian’s scent was a suffocating mix of bitterness and a sharp, stinging spice. It was a smell I had never encountered on him before. Frowning, I followed him out of the reception hall. In the quiet stairwell, I heard his voice—low, choked, and dripping with agony. “Enough, Jasmine! Just to make me give up, you’d rather marry a total stranger?!” Jasmine sobbed, her voice cracking. “What else was I supposed to do?! You’re Chloe’s fiancé, and Chloe is my sister! We can’t keep making this mistake!” I froze at the entrance. My entire body trembled with shock. It felt as if my heart was being slowly crushed in a fist, squeezing the air out of my lungs until I couldn’t breathe. Right then, my phone buzzed. A calendar notification popped up: Wedding with Julian next week. I stared at the screen for two seconds. Then, I called the venue and canceled the wedding.

Through the crack in the door, I saw the two of them wrapped in a painful, desperate embrace. The scent of grief radiating from them was so thick it was almost physical. Jasmine covered her face, her shoulders shaking violently. “Julian, let it go. We have to stop.” She looked up at him, her eyes filled with unspeakable sorrow. “I’m getting married today. Next week, you’re marrying Chloe. Chloe and I only have each other. Since our parents passed away, she’s my only family. Don’t hurt her, I beg you.” I leaned heavily against the cold wall. My chest throbbed with a million tiny needle pricks. The sheer absurdity of the situation made me want to laugh and cry at the same time. I stood there like a lunatic, not knowing what expression to put on my face. Jasmine. Julian. I had never once connected them in my mind. For the past few years, they had kept such a polite, distant boundary. They behaved like strangers, and I was the only bridge between them. During holidays, Julian would bring gifts to our house and greet her with polite formality. Jasmine would nod distantly and say nothing more than, “Please, make yourself at home.” Every time Julian left, Jasmine would stroke my hair, her emotions tightly suppressed. “Chloe must be happy,” she would whisper. Back then, I didn’t understand the deep sadness in her eyes. But now, I did. Inside the stairwell, Julian shook his head. His hands shook as he desperately tried to grab hers. “Don’t do this to me, Jasmine. Please.” Jasmine closed her eyes and slapped his hand away. “I said it’s over! Julian, we were just never meant to be.” Julian punched the concrete wall. His hand—the hand of a brilliant surgeon—was instantly covered in blood, but his eyes were redder than the blood dripping from his knuckles. “I don’t care about fate! Jasmine, let’s run away. Let’s leave this place together!” She tore herself from his grip, her gaze hardening. “I won’t hurt Chloe. If you dare do anything, I will never speak to you again.” He froze. His spine went rigid, like a bowstring stretched to its absolute limit. Then, with a bitter, defeated laugh, all the strength drained from his body, and his shoulders slumped. “Fine…” “You win, Jasmine. You win.” “I will stay with Chloe. For the rest of my life.” I closed my eyes, a mocking smile on my lips. It was all a joke. I stumbled away from the stairwell. My steps were hollow, and every drop of color had drained from my face. A short while later, Julian returned to the banquet hall and sat down next to me. “What’s wrong, babe?” He gently touched the corner of my reddened eyes, his voice dripping with concern. “Have you been crying?” I looked up, digging my fingernails into my palms. He was back to his usual self—warm, gentle, and perfect. It was as if the scene I had just witnessed was nothing but a hallucination. I instinctively shrank back from his touch. “I’m fine…” He didn’t press. The lights in the ballroom dimmed, and his attention was immediately drawn to the grand doors at the end of the aisle. “And now, please welcome the beautiful bride!” As the host spoke, Jasmine walked down the aisle in her white wedding gown. She looked at me first. When her gaze briefly brushed past Julian, it was filled with a lingering, quiet sorrow. As for Julian… His fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. I watched it all play out. Taking a soft breath, a wave of cold desolation washed over me. Because out of the three of us in this room, not a single one smelled sweet. Up on the stage, Jasmine was reciting her vows to her new husband. Soon, it was time for the family speeches. The host walked over with the microphone. “Now, we invite the bride’s only sister, Chloe, to say a few words of blessing!” I reached out to take the mic. But Julian, who had been silent the entire time, suddenly stood up and snatched it first.

I froze. The host froze. Everyone in the room looked on in confusion. On stage, Jasmine’s body went completely rigid. She gave Julian a subtle, pleading shake of her head. Julian kept his eyes lowered, looking down at me with practiced tenderness. “Let me do it. I’m afraid if you start speaking, you’ll cry too hard, and my heart can’t take that.” Without waiting for my response, he raised the microphone. His voice echoed through the speakers, flat and devoid of real emotion, like he was delivering a business report. “Chloe wants to tell you that you look beautiful today. She hopes you will be happy forever, and always stay true to yourself.” “If you ever feel tired or unhappy out there, you can always come home. I… we will always be there for you.” Jasmine forced a small smile. “I know. Thank you.” They looked at each other from across the room, then quickly averted their eyes. Only I could smell the suffocating bitterness hanging in the air between them. The speeches ended, and the wedding proceeded smoothly. I turned my head to look at the man sitting beside me, whose mind was clearly miles away. “I didn’t want to say any of those things,” I said quietly. “Didn’t you hear me practicing my speech at home?” “And besides, I could have said it myself.” Julian snapped out of his daze. Hiding the complex emotions in his eyes, he reached out and playfully pinched my cheek. His smile was doting. “The wedding hasn’t even started and your eyes are already puffy from crying. I was just worried you wouldn’t make it through a single sentence.” He chuckled softly. “Chloe has always been so sensitive.” He pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly. It was no different from how he used to hold me. If… If I hadn’t smelled that the sweetness in his emotions had completely evaporated, I would have truly believed he loved me. “Is that so…” The corner of my mouth twitched into a strained smile. “Then thank you.” He didn’t notice the edge in my voice. Jasmine had walked over to our table, raising her champagne glass to toast us. “Chloe, you’re getting married next week.” She gently patted my head. “My little sister is all grown up.” I kept my eyes down, feeling a sickening wave of nausea rise in my chest, accompanied by a dull, throbbing pain. She turned to Julian. “Take… take good care of my sister. I hope you keep your promise.” Julian, who rarely drank, downed his entire glass of champagne in one gulp. “I will.” They quickly broke eye contact. Jasmine moved to the next table, and laughter rippled through the hall. But Julian kept drinking, one glass after another. I watched him the whole time. I didn’t stop him. There was no point anymore. That night, Julian got dead drunk. The moment we got home, he collapsed onto the living room sofa. “Jasmine…” “Why… why couldn’t it be us? Tell me why…” I sat on the armchair nearby, listening quietly. I sat there and listened to my fiancé call out my sister’s name in his drunken slumber. Suddenly, my phone rang. It was the coordinator from the wedding venue. “Hi, Chloe. We noticed you canceled the wedding on our portal. Is everything okay?” “We just wanted to remind you that according to the contract, the deposit is non-refundable.” I gave a soft hum. “Yes, it’s canceled.” “Keep the deposit. It’s fine.” After I hung up, Julian muttered, “Chloe… my throat hurts. Get me a glass of honey water…” I ignored him. I went straight to the bedroom and locked the door. I canceled the catering orders, returned the wedding decorations online, and then booked a one-way ticket to Iceland. I had always wanted to go there. Julian had always claimed he was too busy with hospital shifts. Well, now I could go alone. Lying in bed, sleep eluded me. I began to mentally retrace the steps of our ten-year relationship. The more I looked back… The more I saw the glaring red flags I had previously ignored. Like the time Jasmine moved abroad, and his mood had plummeted for weeks for no apparent reason. Or the year Jasmine graduated, and he insisted on flying across the country with me just to congratulate her. Or the way that, in every single photo of the three of us, his head was always slightly tilted toward Jasmine. I didn’t know when it had started. But I knew. It was time for it to end. The next morning, when I woke up, Julian was already in the kitchen making breakfast. He had cooked for me for years, never letting me lift a finger. “Morning.” He set the plates on the table and asked casually, “I drank too much last night. Did I say anything stupid?” I stared at the strawberry jam on the table. I hated strawberry jam. Jasmine loved it. “No,” I replied flatly. He quietly let out a breath, but then frowned slightly. “You didn’t even put a blanket on me last night, and there was no honey water. I woke up freezing, and my head is splitting.” I looked him dead in the eye. “I am not obligated to take care of you.” He froze. Julian pressed his lips together, swallowing his sudden irritation. A flicker of anxiety crossed his eyes. “What’s wrong? Did someone upset you? Or are you stressed about the wedding preparations?” I didn’t answer. I grabbed the toast smeared with strawberry jam and threw it directly into the trash can. “I hate strawberries.” Looking at his bewildered face, I let out a cold laugh. “The one who loves strawberries is Jasmine.”

I walked out of the apartment and wandered aimlessly down the streets. A light drizzle was falling. It wasn’t heavy enough to need an umbrella, but it was enough to knock the dead leaves off the trees, letting them rot in the mud. I stopped outside our old high school. Julian and I had been classmates here. Jasmine was a grade above us. Back then, she would always wait for me after school so we could walk home together. At some point, Julian started walking with us. Jasmine used to tease me, saying Julian was doing it because he had a crush on me and wanted to walk me home. But even though we were in the same class, we barely spoke. Yet, from that day on, my eyes couldn’t help but follow him. After the SATs, Jasmine encouraged me to confess my feelings to him. So I did. I remembered the shock on his face when I asked him out. But the rejection that had been on the tip of his tongue was swallowed back down. Instead, he had said, “Okay.” And just like that, Julian became a permanent fixture in my and Jasmine’s lives. I kept walking, my hair soaked by the rain, my feet growing heavier with every step. I couldn’t help but wonder… What if he only agreed to be with me so he could be closer to Jasmine? What if the sweet scent of love I had smelled on him all these years was just a lie he forced himself to project? I didn’t dare go down that rabbit hole. Thinking like that would drive me insane. I squeezed my eyes shut, took a deep breath, and hailed a cab. Just as I got into the backseat, Julian’s black Mercedes sped past us. “Sir, follow that Mercedes,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. That direction didn’t lead to his hospital, nor did it lead to his parents’ house. Where was he going? The answer was screaming in my mind, but my heart clenched, too terrified to believe it. The cab took several turns and finally stopped in front of a small, charming cottage in the quiet suburbs. I never knew he owned a house here. I got out of the cab. As I walked closer, the muffled sound of an argument reached my ears. Jasmine sounded like she was on the verge of a breakdown. “What did Chloe mean by that comment this morning?!” “Julian! You promised me she would never find out! You promised you wouldn’t hurt her!” Julian’s jaw was clenched tight. “She won’t find out. She was probably just in a bad mood. I asked her if I said anything stupid last night, and she said no.” Only then did Jasmine seem to calm down. She wept softly. “In any case, this is the last time I’m coming here. We cannot contact each other ever again.” Julian’s voice was a soft, desperate whisper. “Really? Can you really let go of this place?” “We bought this cottage five years ago. We have so many beautiful memories here. Can you really just wipe them away?” “Jasmine, stop lying to yourself.” Then, Jasmine threw herself into his arms, and they held each other tightly. It was so picturesque. It made me look like the cruel villain standing in the way of their true love. I couldn’t hear what else they said. A loud buzzing filled my ears. As I leaned against the gate, I noticed the archway of the cottage was covered in climbing jasmines. Every corner of this place was a testament to their love. And I was nothing but a pathetic clown. A flood of memories rushed into my mind. Four years ago, on New Year’s Eve, both of them claimed they had to work late shifts. I spent the countdown alone. Three years ago, on Valentine’s Day, both of them said they had business trips. The romantic dinner I prepared ended up in the trash. Two years ago, on Jasmine’s birthday while she was still abroad, Julian suddenly told me he had to fly out for an emergency surgery. That same night, Jasmine’s phone went unanswered. Piece by piece, the puzzle came together. The truth wrapped around my throat like a poisonous vine, cutting off my air. I went home. I didn’t confront them. Not yet. I quietly packed my bags. When Julian came home later, his scent was miserable, but the moment he saw me, he forced a bright smile. He pulled me into a tight embrace. There wasn’t a single trace of sweetness on him. “Chloe, I’m so sorry about the strawberry jam this morning. My brain was still foggy from last night.” “Are you mad at me?” I stared at him, then let my lips curve into a wide, cheerful smile. “Of course not.” He let out a sigh of relief and headed into the bathroom. My smile instantly vanished, replaced by cold indifference.

Three days after her wedding, Jasmine brought her new husband, Luke, to visit. She took my hand, her smile warm and sisterly. “Chloe is getting married.” “I can’t be your maid of honor next week, but being able to hand you over to Julian is enough for me.” I looked down at our joined hands. “Is that so? You don’t feel any regret?” She stiffened for a fraction of a second, then laughed it off. “Why would I regret seeing you happy?” “Mhm,” I murmured, pulling my hand back. She didn’t notice my coldness. “I’m going to see what delicious food Julian is whipping up,” she said cheerfully, heading into the kitchen. The table was set with an incredibly lavish feast. Julian was supposed to have a surgery scheduled for today. He was the kind of doctor who put his patients above everything else. But this morning, I heard him call his chief to swap shifts. All so he could cook a meal for Jasmine. At the dinner table, the two of them sat diagonally from each other. The maximum distance possible. “Chloe mentioned you like seafood, Jasmine, so I made a seafood feast today. But don’t eat too much cold seafood, it’s not good for your stomach.” Julian said casually. I listened in silence. Every detail he knew about Jasmine’s preferences felt like a slap in my face. Because I had never told him those things. Jasmine gave a cold, polite nod, then turned to cut a piece of steak for Luke. Julian’s scent turned bitter and dejected. I watched it all, feeling completely numb. Except for Luke, who was happily eating, everyone at the table was drowning in their own thoughts. In the afternoon, Luke had to head back to work. Jasmine and Julian accompanied me to my final wedding dress fitting. I stood in front of the mirror, staring at the glittering gown. I was dazed. This dress was designed by Julian himself. It was intricately embroidered with delicate white petals. I remembered the day he had proudly shown me the sketches like a boy presenting a treasure. “Chloe, I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” he had said, eyes shining. “Even when we’re old and gray, I want to hold your hand and look at the beautiful things we built together.” I never could have imagined that in just six months, the truth would be laid bare. I lost my parents at eight. And now, at twenty-three, I was losing my sister and my fiancé. I wondered if I was cursed. Why was I destined to lose everything? Why could I never keep the people I loved? The boutique assistant smiled warmly as she adjusted the train of the gown. “This gown is called ‘Pure Jasmine,’ Chloe. I’m guessing your sister’s name inspired it?” My body went completely rigid. So that was the name of the dress. Those embroidered petals weren’t cherry blossoms. They were jasmines. A wave of pure disgust and absurdity washed over me. I ripped the veil off my head. The assistant gasped, startled. “Chloe? Is there something wrong with the dress?” I stared at the crumpled veil on the floor, my voice hollow. “No. It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.” I changed out of the dress and walked out of the fitting room. Jasmine and Julian were standing far apart, looking like polite strangers. Julian blinked in surprise. “Babe? Why didn’t you show us? I wanted to see you in it.” I forced a smile. “If you see it now, where’s the surprise on the wedding day?” Julian smiled tenderly, and Jasmine patted my head affectionately. It made my skin crawl. According to tradition, the bride and groom shouldn’t see each other the night before the wedding. So, Julian checked into a hotel. Before he left, he held me tightly, his heart hammering against his chest. “Tomorrow, you’ll finally be my wife, Chloe. I’m so happy.” I nodded expressionlessly. At midnight, I packed the last of my things and headed to the airport. My flight was scheduled for 2:00 AM. Before boarding, I took a photo of the suburban cottage and sent it to our three-person Snapchat group. I didn’t say a single word. I turned off my phone, stepped onto the plane, and left. Twelve hours later, the plane touched down in Iceland. By then, the wedding was already over. The moment I turned my phone back on, a barrage of missed calls and notifications flooded in, making my phone vibrate violently.

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I had just returned from Paris after finishing my degree in fashion design. My grandpa, Arthur Vance, insisted that he had set up a family alliance agreement for me years ago. The moment I landed, he dragged me straight to the Sterling estate to discuss the engagement. Finding the conversation in the parlor incredibly boring, I slipped out alone to wander around the Sterling family’s massive garden. Suddenly, a woman rushed out of nowhere and slapped me hard across the face. “Where did this trash come from? How dare you steal my things!” I cupped my stinging cheek and stared at her in utter shock. The woman tilted her chin up, her expression dripping with aristocratic arrogance. “That pigeon’s blood ruby ring on your finger is my birthday gift from Julian Sterling! A dirt-poor girl like you? You think you’re worthy of wearing that?!” I opened my mouth, about to tell her it was mine, when she slapped me again, even harder. “Do you even know who I am? I’m Julian’s future wife! The future Mrs. Sterling! This entire estate will belong to me!” I pulled out my phone and, right in front of her face, opened Snapchat to message the guy labeled ‘Fiancé.’ “Julian Sterling, there’s a dog biting people in your yard. Are you going to leash her, or should I?”

But to my disbelief, a red exclamation mark popped up. I let out a cold, angry laugh. We hadn’t even finalized the engagement yet, and he had already blocked me. “How did you sneak in here anyway? Give Miss Thorne her ring back, now!” A Sterling family maid lunged at me aggressively, but I sidestepped, letting her crash into the bushes. “I am a guest of the Sterling family. Is this how you treat your guests?” I demanded. Nadia Thorne sneered, immediately pulling out her phone to FaceTime Julian—my dear fiancé. His deep, smooth voice answered in less than a second. “What’s wrong, Nadia, babe?” I listened closely. The voice was actually quite nice, the exact deep baritone I liked. It seemed Grandpa Arthur actually had decent taste in men. “Julian! Some crazy bitch sneaked into your yard claiming she’s an elite guest, and she stole the ring you gave me!” I cut off her whiny, high-pitched voice to introduce myself, saving him the confusion. “Mr. Sterling, I am Seraphina Vance. Your fiancée.” There was a two-second silence on the other end, as if he was trying to place the name. Then, his tone turned icy cold. “Fiancée? Anyone entering the Sterling estate must have an official VIP invitation. Otherwise, they are just trespassers. Call the cops.” Then, his voice softened back into a gentle whisper for Nadia. “Nadia, don’t cry over a stupid ring. I’ll buy you a better one when I get back tonight.” My pigeon’s blood ruby was a family heirloom from my parents. There wasn’t another one like it in the entire world. While I was re-evaluating whether this marriage alliance was worth my time, Nadia was laughing so hard she could barely stand. She looked me up and down with sheer disgust. “You? Your clothes don’t even have a single designer brand on them! And you dare call yourself Julian’s fiancée? What a joke!” I had been studying fashion design in Paris, and the clothes I wore were my own custom, unlabeled designs. They were highly sought after by European aristocrats, but obviously, this basic girl couldn’t recognize real haute couture. Annoyed by her drama, I lost all interest in the garden. I turned to leave. But Nadia blocked my path. “Didn’t you hear Julian? You need an invitation! Didn’t you say you’re a VIP? Where is it?” I rolled my eyes, reaching into my coat pockets, but found nothing. Then I remembered Grandpa Arthur saying we didn’t need one to enter the Sterling estate. Seeing my empty hands, her smug smile widened. “I knew it! You’re a fraud! Security! Strip that ring off her finger, tie her up, and throw her out!” I covered my ring with one hand, stepping back with a cold glare. A few maids approached me, whispering with fake pity. “Miss, just give the ring back to Miss Thorne. Otherwise, you won’t even know how you died!” “Yeah, that ring is the token of love between Master Julian and Miss Thorne. They grew up together. If he finds out, he’ll ruin you.” “I saw a guy lose his hand last month just because he accidentally spilled wine on Miss Thorne’s dress!” Their warnings only made Nadia’s sneer more insufferable. “Hear that? Kneel down, put the ring back on my finger with respect, and get lost! Or else, your hands will end up just like that waiter’s!”

In my entire life, I had never knelt to anyone. The last person who dared speak to me like this was probably six feet under by now. I took a step forward and slapped Nadia across her face. Her head whipped to the side, her eyes wide with fury. “You dare hit me?!” She clutched her red cheek and screamed at the maids to attack me. I curled my lips into a cold smile. Before I went to Paris, Grandpa Arthur was so worried about me being alone abroad that he personally trained me in kickboxing. A few out-of-shape maids were nothing to me. With a few quick punches and sweeps, I left them groaning on the grass, dazed and disoriented. “Pathetic,” I muttered, shaking out my slightly numb knuckles. I turned to walk away while Nadia shrieked in rage behind me. Suddenly, a maid gasped. “Master Julian is back!” I looked up. A tall man in a bespoke, tailored suit was walking toward us, his handsome face clouded with anger. Nadia instantly dropped her vicious look, replacing it with a tearful, fragile expression as she threw herself into Julian’s arms. “Julian! You’re finally here! She almost killed me!” Honestly, Julian Sterling was extremely good-looking. He could easily pass for a Hollywood lead. Unfortunately, knowing he had an active marriage agreement with me, he was still holding his childhood sweetheart with such desperate tenderness. I rolled my eyes. I needed to tell Grandpa to take me home. This wedding was officially off. Ignoring their little drama, I headed straight for the garden exit. “Stop right there! You think you can touch my woman and just walk away?” Julian didn’t even look at me. He was busy wiping Nadia’s tears. Several heavy-set bodyguards stepped forward, blocking my exit. I took a deep, exhausted breath and turned back to face him. “Master Sterling, right now, my grandfather is in your grandfather’s study discussing our alliance. If they find out you’re treating me like this, it won’t end well for you.” Hearing me mention the elder Mr. Sterling, the maids’ faces paled slightly. “Wait… is she really Master Julian’s fiancée?” “Who cares? Look at how protective Master Julian is of Miss Thorne. This wedding might not even happen.” “Exactly. Let’s not offend Miss Thorne, or we’ll pay for it later!” Julian’s face darkened when he heard the word “alliance.” “What alliance? I never agreed to it. Besides, my grandfather loves me more than anyone. He would never force me to marry a nameless, classless girl like you!” Nadia peeked out from his chest, looking at me triumphantly. “Julian and I are soulmates. A filthy thief like you actually thinks she can be the next Mrs. Sterling? Delusional.” I nodded slowly. “Great, these two trash bags are perfect for each other. Please stay locked together forever.” But I remembered my grandpa saying that of all the families who begged for my hand, the Sterling family had put in the most effort. I had met old Marcus Sterling a few times; he was a highly respectable elder. If he found out his precious alliance was ruined by his stupid grandson, there would be a bloodbath. But oh well. A rotten apple ruins the basket.

I shook my head in pity and started to walk away again. But Nadia shrieked, “Don’t let her go! She still has the ruby ring Julian gave me!” At Julian’s nod, several bodyguards instantly pinned me down, grabbing my hand to force the ring off. But the ring had been custom-resized to fit my finger perfectly. No matter how hard they pulled, it wouldn’t budge. “Nadia Thorne, if this ring is yours, why does it fit my finger so perfectly?” I mocked. This only enraged her further. She shook Julian’s arm frantically. “She must be fatter than me! She forced it on! That’s why it’s stuck!” “Then use a drill,” Julian said coldly. My face fell. “Damn it.” I hadn’t brought my personal security detail with me today. Julian’s bodyguards were massive, and there were too many of them. After a brief struggle, they pinned me to the grass. Nadia knelt in front of me with glee, her sharp red nails clawing into my jaw. “Where’s that attitude now, huh? Weren’t you so tough a minute ago?” With a vicious grin, she slapped me hard. My face scraped against the dirt, and the rough sand left bloody scratches on my cheek. Julian stared at me for a few seconds, a cruel smirk appearing on his lips. “Nadia, your hand must hurt. Want to see something more fun?” Nadia’s eyes lit up. “What?” “Tie her to the old rowboat in the lake!” My eyes widened as I stared at Julian’s twisted, excited face. “Does he know?” “No! You will regret this!” I screamed. Nadia sneered with pure excitement. “Regret? That word isn’t in my dictionary!” “But today, I’m going to make sure you regret ever touching my things!” The bodyguards dragged me across the grass to the lake in the center of the estate, tying me with thick ropes before throwing me onto the decaying wooden rowboat. Before I could even process the situation, they flipped me over. A small electric saw buzzes near my finger. The agonizing pain made me scream at the top of my lungs. Soon, the pigeon’s blood ruby was stained with my blood, looking horrifyingly crimson. “Oh dear, looks like another one is going to lose their life.” “She’s a pretty girl, why did she have to be so stubborn? Master Julian won’t let her off easily. She’s losing at least a finger.” “It’s too cruel, I can’t even watch.” The servants whispered from the lake bank, but their voices were fading. The intense pain made me thrash wildly. The old, decaying boat creaked loudly as it rocked against the water. This exact feeling—the rocking, the dark water—instantly triggered the memories of the shipwreck that killed my parents. The deep-seated trauma and terror seized my mind. My face turned deadly pale. Losing control, I curled into a ball, clutching my head as fresh blood dripped down my face. “No! Please! Let me go back to the shore!” But Nadia and Julian stood on the bank, watching me like they were watching a movie. Julian even stepped onto the dock and kicked the boat, sending it drifting into the deep center of the cold lake. I struggled to open my eyes, seeing Nadia proudly holding the blood-stained ring. Julian wrapped his arm around her waist, speaking softly. “That ring is dirty now that it has her filthy blood on it. Throw it away, babe. I’ll buy you a new one.” And right before my eyes, they casually tossed my parents’ heirloom into the deep, muddy lake. “Julian Sterling!” I screamed through my tears. “Aren’t you afraid my grandfather will make you pay for this?!”

He chuckled softly, his eyes filled with absolute disdain, looking at me like I was piece of trash. “Your grandfather? Who the hell is he to make me pay?” “The Vance family is practically dead. It’s just you and that old man left!” “You literally cursed your own parents to death. And your grandpa actually thought he could dump a jinx like you onto me? In his dreams!” My pupils dilated. The words “cursed your parents to death” stabbed straight into my heart like a dagger. On my eighth birthday, my parents were supposed to take a luxury yacht back from overseas to celebrate with me. But a storm was brewing. The captain advised them to wait a day. However, I had called them, crying over the phone, saying how much I missed them. So, they braved the storm on a smaller yacht just to get back to me. Right before they reached the dock, a massive wave crashed over them. Their boat capsized right in front of my eyes. That horrific scene flashed repeatedly in my mind, triggered by Julian’s cruel words. I curled up in the rocking boat, shaking violently as tears streamed down my face, mumbling incoherently. “Mom… Dad… I’m sorry… I don’t need a birthday party anymore… please come back…” Seeing my pathetic state, Nadia clapped her hands in delight. “I knew she was a jinx! No wonder she smells like bad luck! Julian, we need to stay away from her, or we’ll get infected!” In Paris, nobody knew about my past, so it was never brought up. At the Vance estate, to protect me, Grandpa Arthur had ordered everyone never to mention that day, and he had even filled in all the lakes and ponds on our property. The guilt and depression I had suppressed for years exploded all at once. For a second, I had a sudden urge to jump into the lake to join my parents. Suddenly, my phone rang. It was the custom ringtone I had set for my grandfather. The sound brought a momentary flash of sanity back to my brain. The Vance family only had me and Grandpa left. After my parents died, he had to bury his own children. His pain was no less than mine. If I left him too… I couldn’t bear to think of the consequences. I took a deep breath, fighting the dark thoughts, and struggled to reach for my phone. Seeing this, Nadia ordered the guards to throw rocks at me. My hands were shaking violently from the severe panic attack. A large rock hit my wrist, and the phone slipped from my grasp, falling into the lake. It flickered twice before going completely black. The rocks also punched two holes in the old rowboat. Cold lake water began to seep in, soaking my clothes and making me shiver. “Seraphina Vance, didn’t you want to die with your parents back then? I’m giving you that chance today. You should thank me!” Julian crossed his arms, coldly watching the boat slowly sink. “And as for your grandfather, when he comes, I’ll make sure he joins you guys down there!” I struggled weakly, but it was useless. The cold water reached my chin. I closed my eyes, crying silently in my heart. “Grandpa… I’m sorry…” But just as the water was about to cover my nose, a familiar, heavy footstep echoed from the shore. A heavy mahogany cane slammed onto the dock. “I want to see who dares send my family down there!”

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Before we got married, Ethan Carter insisted on buying two apartments right next to each other. I asked him why he had to take on an extra mortgage. He said, “Your parents are getting older, so it’ll be convenient whether they come over to take care of you in the future or you want to take care of them.” I believed him. For those two apartments, I put in all my savings. But before we registered our marriage, when we went to file the property records, the staff member looked at the documents and frowned. “Miss, are you sure the apartment next door is also for your parents to live in?” “But the pre-registered owner is named Mia Hayes, do you know her?” I froze. Mia Hayes was my best friend. Ethan quickly pulled me aside and coaxed me in a low voice. “She just broke up and has nowhere to stay, so she’s only borrowing the place for a few days, don’t be so petty.” The next second, Mia posted on Ins. [Thank you to him for finally giving me a home.] I stared at that line for a long time, then turned around and put my documents back into my bag. That day, I did not go to the city clerk’s office, and I simply canceled the wedding.

Ethan chased after me. “Listen to me, I’ll handle Mia’s side, and we just need to change the owner, it’s a five-minute thing.” I raised my hand and called an Uber, then immediately got inside. He bent down and leaned against the car window. “If you leave like this, how am I supposed to explain it to our parents?” I glanced at him. “You can explain it to Mia.” I opened the SnapChat of our wedding planner, Claire, and sent one sentence: The wedding is paused. Claire replied almost instantly with a voice message. “Miss Harris, why is it suddenly paused?” “Your fiancé was still discussing the new plan last night.” “What new plan?” “You don’t know?” Claire’s tone was a little hesitant. “Mr. Carter said he wanted to add a special memory video at the wedding and make a photo wall.” My fingertips froze. “What photo wall?” A few seconds later, Claire sent over a picture. I opened the full-size image, and my whole body stiffened in the seat. The most eye-catching spot on the so-called wedding photo wall was not me and Ethan. It was Mia. She was wearing a white dress and standing by the ocean, smiling brightly. And Ethan stood beside her, gazing at her with endless tenderness, looking so romantic and relaxed. I stared at the screen and suddenly found it so absurd that I wanted to laugh. “Who picked these photos?” Claire’s side went quiet for a moment. “Mr. Carter sent them over.” “He said Miss Hayes is your best friend and that you two are close, so putting her photos at the wedding would also count as witnessing your friendship.” “He also said Miss Hayes hasn’t been doing well lately, and he wanted to use this chance to cheer her up a little.” I held my phone and slowly lowered my eyes. The details of wedding planning over the past few months suddenly surfaced one by one. For the flowers I chose, Ethan said Mia was allergic to pollen, so they were later changed to artificial flowers. For the wedding music I picked, Ethan said Mia thought it was tacky, then turned around and changed it to an obscure French song. Every single time, he told me in a tone that made it sound completely natural. “Mia understands these things, and she’s also doing it for our wedding, so don’t be so sensitive.” It turned out that in this wedding that was supposed to belong to me, I had already been pushed to the side. “Miss Harris?” “Are you listening?” “I am.” I closed my eyes for a moment. “The wedding is canceled, and none of this is needed anymore.” Claire sucked in a sharp breath. “But the penalty fee is not a small amount, do you want to discuss it with Mr. Carter again?” “There’s no need to discuss it, and I’ll pay the penalty according to the contract.” “Okay, Miss Harris, then I’ll need you to come to the studio when you have time to sign.” “Okay.” After hanging up, my phone lit up again, and it was a message from Ethan: “Don’t tell your parents yet, I’ll explain the apartment situation to you tonight.” I did not reply and went straight to my parents’ house.

When I pushed open the front door, my dad was wearing reading glasses and tending to his potted orchid on the balcony. My mom was making soup in the kitchen, and when she heard movement, she poked her head out. “Olivia?” “Aren’t you supposed to be getting your marriage license with Ethan today?” “Why are you back so early?” I did not rush to answer and only walked to the dining table and sat down. “We didn’t get it.” “I also canceled the wedding, and I’m planning to return those two apartments.” My dad quickly walked over, and my mom also wiped her hands and ran out of the kitchen. “What happened?” “Did you two have a fight?” My mom was so anxious that her face changed. I pushed a document envelope toward them. “When we went to the property transaction center today to file the records, the staff told me that for the apartment Ethan bought next door, the pre-filled owner was Mia Hayes.” “Mia Hayes?” “That friend of yours?” My dad frowned. I nodded. “Yes.” The air fell silent at that moment. My mom stood frozen in place, her lips moving, but she could not speak for a long while. My dad grabbed the document envelope from the table. “That bastard!” “Back then, he swore up and down that he was buying it for us to retire in, and that was why we agreed to let you put in your savings!” “What is this supposed to be?” “Using our Harris family’s money to support another woman?” He turned to get his phone. “I’m calling Attorney Lewis right now, and this apartment must be returned!” “He has to spit out every cent!” Just then, the doorbell suddenly rang. Ethan’s anxious face appeared outside the door. He was still holding a bouquet of roses. “Olivia, let’s go back and talk about this.” “Can you let me in?” “This really isn’t as serious as you think, so don’t act on impulse.” I did not move. My mom walked over with a cold face and pressed the call button. “Ethan, how do you still have the nerve to come here?” Ethan froze for a second, and the expression on his face instantly turned awkward. “Mrs. Harris… you’re here too.” “Did Olivia say something to you?” “She told us everything.” My mom stared at the screen, her voice as cold as ice. “I only have one question for you.” “For the apartment you said you bought for us two old people to live in, why is someone else’s name on it?” Ethan became guilty. “Mrs. Harris, that’s a misunderstanding.” “Mia really has been going through a hard time recently, and I was just helping her as a friend…” “A friend?” My mom sneered. “You took my daughter’s money to help your friend settle down, do you think the Harris family runs a charity?” “Mrs. Harris, please listen to me explain…” Ethan still wanted to say something, but my mom directly cut off the call. The screen went black. I looked at the dark screen and thought of the night I decided to take out my savings. My dad had once advised me to keep some money for myself, saying that a woman only has confidence when she has money in her own hands. At the time, Ethan held my hand tightly and swore while looking into my parents’ eyes. “Mr. and Mrs. Harris, please don’t worry, I will never make Olivia regret this.” Looking back now, that vow was only laughable. I sat at the dining table and admitted my stupidity in front of my parents for the first time. “Dad, Mom, I’m sorry.” “I regret it.” My mom hugged me, and her tears fell onto my shoulder. “Silly girl, what do you have to be sorry for?” “It’s a good thing you saw him clearly before you got the license.”

The next morning, my parents and I showed up on time at the sales office of Meadowbrook Residences. The customer service woman at the front desk was very polite. “Miss Harris, you previously made an appointment for a consultation about canceling the purchase, and we’ve already pulled up the purchase files on our side.” I stared at the words on the screen. [Client request: Miss Hayes prefers quiet and needs to be close to the east-side elevator, but must avoid the equipment room.] [Follow-up record: Already took Miss Hayes on-site to measure the balcony dimensions.] The date was from six months ago, the month when we had just started looking at apartments. I sat on the sofa and felt all the blood in my body rushing to the top of my head. So even the part about her having just broken up and having nowhere to stay was fake. As early as six months ago, Ethan had already brought Mia here to choose an apartment. “Olivia…” My mom held my hand, her eyes full of heartache. I patted the back of her hand to signal that I was fine. “Excuse me,” I looked at the customer service rep, “if I request to cancel one of the apartments now, what is the process?” The customer service rep looked troubled. “Miss Harris, because you received a ten percent discount for purchasing both apartments together, if you cancel only one apartment separately, the price of the other apartment will need to be recalculated at the original price.” “Also, the loan plan will need to be approved again, and the penalty fee is about five percent of the total price.” I nodded. No matter how much I lost, I could only accept this result now. “Then cancel it.” Just then, the glass door of the sales office was pushed open. Ethan ran in, out of breath. “Olivia!” He strode up to us, glanced at the page on the customer service computer, and his face instantly changed. “You really came to cancel the purchase?” “Olivia, an apartment isn’t a joke, how can you be this impulsive?” He once again used that gentle voice. “The penalty is so high, and canceling isn’t worth it.” “Come back with me first, and let’s talk properly, okay?” I looked up at him. That face was clearly so familiar, but at that moment, I only felt he was a stranger. “If an apartment isn’t a joke, then is marriage a joke?” I stood up and looked him straight in the eyes. “You brought her here to view the apartment six months ago, Ethan, how long exactly were you planning to hide her next door to me?” Ethan’s eyes dodged for a moment. “That was because… because she understands renovations, and I only asked her to come help with references!” “Is that so?” “Olivia.” Suddenly, a soft female voice came from behind Ethan. Mia stood there in an off-white knit sweater, her eyes red. She looked at me, her voice full of grievance. “You really misunderstood.” “I really just had nowhere to go, and Ethan kindly took me in.” She walked forward and tried to take my hand. “Please don’t ruin your relationship of so many years because of me, okay?” I stepped sideways to avoid her. Before I could speak, the customer service rep beside us froze first. “Huh?” “Miss Hayes, how do you have time to come over today?” The customer service rep flipped through the notebook in her hands and smiled warmly. “You came last week to choose curtain measurements, and you also said you wanted to change the master bedroom wall color to dusty pink before move-in, and we’ve already confirmed with the engineering department that it can be changed.” The surroundings instantly went quiet. The grievance on Mia’s face instantly froze, and all the color drained from it. I looked up at her. “Aren’t you just staying temporarily?” “Why are you already renovating my apartment?” Mia bit her lip and could not squeeze out a single word for a long while. “Please,” I turned to look at the customer service rep, my tone calm, “help me cancel the apartment.”

Because of Ethan’s repeated obstruction, the apartment cancellation was not settled for the time being. To keep my parents from worrying, I asked them to go home first. Then I took an Uber to the wedding studio by myself. When Claire saw me, she froze for a moment, then quickly revealed a professional smile. “Miss Harris, please sit.” She handed me a thick file, and the cover said “Wedding Schedule Confirmation Form.” I opened the first page, and my gaze stopped. In the upper right corner of the document, several words were printed boldly: Miss Hayes Confirmed Version. “Sorry, I took the wrong one.” Claire quickly pulled the document back, looking a little embarrassed. “This was the draft left from when Mr. Carter and Miss Hayes came to communicate before.” I pressed down on the document and did not let her take it away. “Do they often come together to communicate?” Claire hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Actually… every time they came to go over the schedule, Miss Hayes basically made the decisions.” She glanced at me, and her voice lowered. “Our team even thought in private that Miss Hayes was the bride.” “After all, every time you came, you were only responsible for looking at the budget details.” I felt as if my heart had been viciously squeezed by something. So in other people’s eyes, I had long since become a side character who was responsible for paying the bill. I picked up the pen on the table and flipped to the last page of the cancellation agreement. “Has the penalty been calculated?” “It has been calculated, and aside from the deposit being deducted, you still need to pay an additional twenty thousand for material losses.” I signed my name and paid without hesitation. Just as I walked into the studio lobby, I ran straight into Ethan, who had hurried over. When he saw the cancellation agreement in my hand, his eyes turned red. “Olivia Harris!” “Have you made enough of a scene?” He rushed over and tried to snatch the document from my hand. “The wedding invitations have already been sent out, and all the relatives and friends have been notified, so if you cancel the wedding now, are you trying to embarrass both families?” I looked at his sanctimonious face and suddenly felt disgusted. Then I took out my phone and notified the friends and family in the wedding SnapChat group. [Everyone, I’m sorry to inform you that Ethan and I are officially canceling our wedding, and I apologize for the trouble.] Ethan’s eyes widened, and he reached out to snatch my phone. “Are you crazy?” “Unsend it!” “Unsend it now!”

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On my last business trip, I stayed near the client’s office to rush a project. The hotel went over the company budget by a measly eighty dollars. During reimbursement, my boss, Marcus, pointed his finger right at my nose. He screamed at me for having “no sense of cost awareness.” Not only did he refuse to cover the eighty dollars, but he also docked my two-thousand-dollar quarterly bonus as a penalty. He lectured me with a heavy, patronizing sigh: “Rules are rules, Chloe. Young people need to learn respect and compliance.” I smiled, nodded, and sincerely apologized for my “mistake.” A few days later, I was sent back to that same city for an emergency follow-up. This time, I followed company policy to the absolute letter. When I got back, Marcus looked at my expense report. His face turned completely green. He demanded to know why my three-day hotel stay cost the company $7,936. I said, “Company policy states the daily lodging rate cannot exceed $300.” Marcus frowned. “And?” I answered calmly: “So, I had to take an Uber to another city to find a hotel for $299. Out of that $7,936, about $7,338 went toward the round-trip Uber rides.”

The expense report slapped against my face, leaving a stinging red mark. “Chloe, do you think this company prints money?!” Marcus’s finger practically poked the tip of my nose. Spittle flew from his mouth. I didn’t flinch. I just looked down at the receipts scattered all over the floor. Hotel invoice: $299/night, two nights. Total: $598. Uber receipts: $1,834.50 per single trip, four trips. Total: $7,338. Plus a few small receipts for meals and local transit. Every single one was perfectly compliant. The amounts were accurate to the penny. “I was just following company policy,” I replied softly, my voice deadpan. Marcus’s chest heaved with rage. His custom-tailored shirt, his absolute pride and joy, looked ready to rip at the seams. “Policy? Did I tell you to sleep in another city?!” “Did I tell you to spend nearly two grand a day on Uber?!” “You didn’t say I couldn’t.” I looked up, staring directly into his bloodshot eyes. “Chapter Three, Section Seven of the Employee Travel Handbook only limits the lodging rate. It does not restrict the city where the hotel must be located.” “Transportation expenses are fully reimbursed as long as there are valid receipts.” I paused, then added, “You revised that handbook yourself, Marcus. You made all of us memorize it.” Marcus’s face turned from red to a deep, bruised purple. He was probably remembering the last trip. How he had ripped me a new one in front of the entire department over a measly eighty dollars. How passionately he had preached his management philosophy of “system above all else.” Now, I was serving his own philosophy right back to him. The office was dead silent. My coworkers all kept their heads down, pretending to work, but their perked-up ears gave them away. “Fine. Very fine.” Marcus hissed through clenched teeth. “Chloe, you’re fired.” “On what grounds?” I asked. “For malicious reimbursement! Intentionally hurting the company’s bottom line!” “Every single one of my actions fell within the framework of company rules.” I bent down, picking up the receipts one by one, carefully smoothing out the creases. “If you think my expense report is unreasonable, you don’t have to approve it.” “But I will go straight to the Department of Labor. I’ll let a judge decide if I committed fraud, or if your company policy is just incredibly stupid.” I stacked the neat receipts on his desk, right next to the paperwork of my docked bonus. “Also, I’ll need a clear explanation regarding the eighty-dollar hotel overage and the two-thousand-dollar bonus you withheld last time.” Marcus stared at me, his eyes dark with malice. He knew that if this escalated into a legal labor dispute, he would be the only one humiliated. A boss who constantly preached “rules” getting legally checkmated by his own employee’s compliance? He would become the laughingstock of the industry. “Are you threatening me?” “I’m just protecting my legal rights.” Just then, his secretary rushed in, her face pale and panicked. “Mr. Marcus, Mr. Stephen Vance from TEK Group is on the phone.” “He wants to know why the ‘Whisper of the Tide’ sample we delivered has minor transit scratches.” Marcus’s face went instantly white. ‘Whisper of the Tide’ was a custom glass sculpture our company had spent six months creating specifically for TEK Group. It was our foot in the door for an eight-million-dollar contract. And that very sample was what I had personally transported back from the neighboring city during this trip. I looked at Marcus and slowly, very slowly, let out a smile.

The handoff of ‘Whisper of the Tide’ happened on the third day of my trip. It was an exquisite, incredibly fragile piece of art, packed in a massive crate filled with foam and suspension air cushions. I had started my journey from that $299 budget hotel, ordering an Uber XL just to squeeze the massive crate into the back. The driver was a chatty guy. Seeing me hold onto the box like my life depended on it, he asked curiously, “What kind of treasure you got in there, kid?” “The company’s future,” I said dryly. The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror and stopped talking. He just drove a lot more carefully. During the two-hour drive, I barely moved. I used my own body as a buffer, absorbing every bump on the highway. By the time we arrived at the TEK Group headquarters, my back was soaked in sweat. My arms were trembling from tension. Stephen Vance’s assistant, Jax, came down to meet me. Seeing my disheveled state, he looked surprised. “Chloe? Did you… run here?” I shook my head, pointing to the SUV parked by the curb. “Just came from my hotel.” Jax nodded slowly, his eyes lingering on the sweat beads on my forehead with sudden curiosity. The handoff went smoothly. They had professional equipment to unload and open the crate. Under the gallery lights, ‘Whisper of the Tide’ shone in a dreamlike, oceanic blue. The internal air bubbles and textures mimicked crashing waves. It was breathtaking. Stephen Vance came down to inspect it personally. He put on white gloves and examined every inch of the sculpture. “Perfect,” he said, taking off his gloves and turning to me. “The core technique lies in the uneven distribution of internal air bubbles, simulating the randomness of real tides.” “Every bubble is hand-blown by master artisans. It’s one of a kind.” “But that also means it is incredibly fragile. Any damage would destroy its value. It’s irreplaceable.” “And it’s extremely sensitive to vibration frequencies during transit,” I added. “Luckily, the ride was smooth.” Stephen’s eyes flashed with surprise, which quickly turned into appreciation. “Thank you for your hard work, Chloe. Marcus is lucky to have an employee like you.” I just smiled and said nothing. Oh, it was a lucky day for him, alright. Just not the kind he wanted. I knew the artwork wasn’t perfectly fine. During those long, bumpy hours crossing state lines in a standard SUV, one of the internal mounting brackets had rattled loose from the constant vibration. This caused the edge of the sculpture’s base to rub micro-scratches against the inner wall of the crate. The scratch was as thin as a strand of hair. But I knew it was there. It was all part of my plan. Back in the office, Marcus’s secretary’s report was like a bucket of ice water dumped right over his burning rage. “Scratches? What scratches?” He snatched the phone from her hand. “Mr. Vance! Hello, hello, this is Marcus.” Whatever Stephen said on the other end made Marcus’s spine curve instantly. A fake, sickeningly sweet smile plastered over his face. “A mistake, surely! Our quality control is top-tier. How could there be scratches?” “Maybe it’s the lighting? Yes, yes, please have another look.” “What? You already had your appraisal experts look at it? Confirmed it happened during transit?” Marcus’s face was now whiter than the copy paper on his desk. He whipped his head around, staring at me with a look that wanted to rip me to shreds. I met his gaze calmly, even taking a moment to straighten my collar. “Mr. Vance, let me explain, the employee responsible for transit… she…” Marcus started to stutter. He wanted to throw me under the bus. But he didn’t dare. He was terrified that if he pushed me, I would blab about the $7,338 Uber bill right to Stephen Vance. That would be a spectacular disaster. He would go from being a “strict boss” to a cheap, reckless merchant who shipped a multi-million-dollar fragile artwork via Uber to save on lodging. The eight-million-dollar deal would vanish instantly. Watching him sweat, trapped in a corner of his own making, a wave of pure satisfaction washed over me. When you docked my eighty dollars and stole my two-thousand-dollar bonus, you felt so powerful, didn’t you? Now, it’s your turn.

Marcus ultimately didn’t dare blame me on the phone. He hung up, looking like his bones had been sucked out. He collapsed into his chair. His mind was blank. All he could think was: I’m ruined. The eight-million-dollar deal, the lifeblood of his company, was hanging by a thread because of an eighty-dollar hotel dispute. The office was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. “Chloe,” he called out, his voice completely drained of energy. “Yes?” “What happened with the sample?” “I don’t know,” I said, putting my hands up. “I escorted it personally the entire way. When we did the handoff, Mr. Vance’s assistant was there. They unboxed it, inspected it, and signed for it.” I was telling the truth. The scratch was invisible to the naked eye. The assistant had just done a quick, routine check and signed the paperwork. Only a high-level collector like Stephen Vance would examine it with specialized tools like a rare diamond. Marcus obviously didn’t believe me. He immediately called up TEK Group’s lobby security footage. On the screen, I was carrying the massive box, walking steadily into the lobby, and handing it over to their staff. The entire process was seamless. No drops, no bumps. He then had his assistant call the ride-share company, trying to get the driver’s dashcam footage. But he was told that to protect passenger privacy, in-car footage was only kept for twenty-four hours. It had already been overwritten. Marcus slammed his fist on the desk, rattling his pen holder. He couldn’t find a single shred of evidence to prove I was negligent. But he knew deep down that the problem came from that ridiculous cross-city commute. Yet, he couldn’t say it out loud. To admit it would be to admit that his proud “company policy” was a complete joke. “You,” he pointed at me, his finger shaking violently. “Get out. You’re done.” “Sure,” I nodded. “But before I go, please sign off on my expense report and return my withheld bonus.” “You dare ask for money?!” Marcus roared, standing up, his eyes bloodshot. “Why wouldn’t I?” I met his gaze, unflinching. “I completed the company task. I strictly followed the travel policy despite the risk of being penalized again.” “I am taking what is rightfully mine.” “As for the transit damage,” I shifted my tone. “I think the company needs to reflect on why it has such absurd travel policies. Policies that force employees to use high-risk methods just to get the job done.” I pointed the finger right back at him. “You, Marcus. You created this risk.” “Now that something went wrong, you want me to take the fall?” My voice was quiet, but every word felt like a nail hammering into everyone’s hearts. My coworkers, who had all been docked pay or penalized under his bizarre rules, looked at Marcus with a different expression now. Anger, contempt, and quiet satisfaction. Marcus was speechless. He knew that if he didn’t pay me today, he would lose the entire office. His company would fall apart. His secretary, who always took his side, silently picked up my expense report and the bonus dispute form. She walked over to the finance office and knocked on the door. That was the signal. His authority had collapsed. He stared at me, his eyes filled with a deep, hopeless dread. A growl caught in his throat, but he couldn’t squeeze out a single word. He slumped back into his chair, waving his hand like he was shooing away a fly. “Give it to her. Tell her to get out.”

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Ever since I can remember, I knew I was just a replacement for my dead sister. The day before I started elementary school, my parents took me to buy a backpack. My mom smiled warmly and asked me, “Sienna, which one do you want? The blue one or the red one?” I pointed at the blue one. Instantly, her smile vanished. She grabbed my shoulders, her grip painfully tight, and screamed hysterically in my face. “Why didn’t you choose red?! Gemma only ever chose red!” Seeing my mom having another episode, my dad slapped me hard across the face. My nose bled. The blood was red, too. From that day on, I only ever chose red things. I only dared to want what Gemma would have liked. Once, while playing with my classmates, some playdough got stuck in my hair. The teacher kindly helped me cut the tangled piece out. But when my mom came to pick me up, she lost her mind. “Gemma had long hair! You are not my daughter!” She kicked me out of the car. I ran after it, crying, chasing the car for half an hour before I finally made it home. To avoid triggering my mom, I started mimicking Gemma in every single way. This lasted until the college application season. I scored a perfect 1600 on my SATs and got accepted into Harvard, but my mom demanded that I enroll in the local community college down the street instead. “Gemma was accepted into this college before she died! You have to go!” My high school counselor called to reason with her, but my mom snapped at him, shutting him down instantly. “If Gemma hadn’t died, Sienna wouldn’t even have been born!” Looking at her hysterical face, I suddenly felt like everything was so pointless. Since I had to copy my sister in every way, then I shouldn’t miss out on her final act either. She drowned when she was eighteen. Maybe I should do the same.

When the admission package from the community college arrived, a few local reporters showed up at our door. The moment my mom opened the door, microphones and camera lenses were shoved into her face. “Are you the mother of the genius student, Sienna? Was choosing a community college really Sienna’s own decision?” “Don’t you think it’s unfair to sacrifice Sienna’s future to make up for your late daughter’s regrets?” Hearing their questions, my mom snapped. She violently pushed the reporters out and slammed the door. Then, she dragged me to Gemma’s memorial corner and forced me to my knees. “Sienna! Did you call those reporters on purpose?!” “We are letting you go to the school your sister never got to attend! How is that unfair to you?!” The wooden hanger struck my back. I bit my lower lip so hard it bled. My dad was so angry he smashed a coffee mug on the floor. “Just to rebel against us, you cheated your way to a perfect SAT score?!” “Gemma would never do something so dishonest!” Hearing my dad’s words, I felt so hopeless I wanted to laugh. Back in middle school, my brain finally clicked, and I brought home a straight-A report card for the first time. What welcomed me was a brutal beating. “Gemma was always an average student. How could you possibly get top grades? You must have cheated!” To be just like Gemma and avoid triggering them, I learned how to control my grades. I intentionally tanked my GPAs and practice tests. But on the final SAT, the most important turning point of my life, I chose to show my real strength. I never expected that instead of being proud, they would forcibly change my college applications and accuse me of cheating. “I didn’t cheat,” I said. “Just because Gemma couldn’t get top scores doesn’t mean I can’t.” I straightened my back and stood up to them for the first time in my life. Shocked by my defiance, my mom gasped. She stood there, pointing a trembling finger at me, stuttering, “You… you…” for a long time. Finally, she locked me inside Gemma’s old room and went outside to chase down the reporters. “I want to report Sienna! She cheated on her exams! I want a full investigation!” Hearing my mom’s righteous voice through the door, tears of laughter streamed down my face. In the darkness, my sister’s portrait seemed to stare down at me. When I was little and forced to kneel here alone to reflect on my “mistakes,” I would always be terrified of her picture and cry. But now, I looked straight into Gemma’s eyes and whispered, “I really envy you. You’ve been gone for twenty years, and they still love you so much.” “If I die, will they love me like this too?” The portrait remained silent, her carefree smile frozen in time. She had a deep dimple on her right cheek when she smiled. I didn’t. Because of that, my mom never allowed me to smile in front of her. Gemma was naturally hyperactive and loved running wild outside. To force me outside, my mom tore up my sketchbooks and snapped my drawing pencils. She wouldn’t let me back into the house until it was pitch black. Even on my birthdays, I could only celebrate Gemma’s birthday. The cake was always mango-flavored because it was Gemma’s favorite, even though I was severely allergic to mangoes. When it was time to blow out the candles, Gemma’s portrait was placed right across from me. My only allowed wish was to pray that Gemma was doing well in heaven. I had been my sister’s shadow for eighteen years. I didn’t even know who the real me was anymore. How could they ever love me? I don’t know how long I sat in the dark. Suddenly, the door clicked open. My dad stood in the doorway, blocking the light from the hallway. He looked incredibly exhausted. “Sienna, go apologize to your mother.”

“Ever since your sister passed away, your mom’s mental state hasn’t been stable,” my dad said. “She’s getting old. You need to be more understanding.” I didn’t argue. I walked out numbly. Like I had done a thousand times before, I spoke my lines: “Mom, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have talked back to you. I shouldn’t have gotten those high scores.” My mom turned to look at me, but her eyes were glassy and unfocused. She was having another episode. She was seeing Gemma again. “My sweet Gemma, what are you talking about?” “Come, sit down and eat. Mom made all your favorite foods.” She pulled me to the dining table and kept piling food onto my plate. This was a treatment I never received when she was lucid. Most of the time, I had to sit the furthest away from the dishes. My parents would sit on either side of Gemma’s framed photo. The thickest cut of the steak, the extra cherry on the pie, and the perfectly golden center of the cinnamon roll—those were always reserved for Gemma. I only got to taste them when my mom was confused. After dinner, my mom led me to Gemma’s room. She made me lie down on Gemma’s soft, queen-sized bed. She carefully tucked me in and sat by the bedside, gently patting my back. “Sleep tight, sweetie. Mom is right here watching over you.” I heard this was Gemma’s habit when she was little. She was terrified of the dark and couldn’t fall asleep alone. She needed my mom to stay with her every night. When I was six, a violent thunderstorm kept me awake. Clutching my pillow, I ran to Gemma’s room to find my mom. But my mom shoved me out of the house into the cold night. “You’re so young, yet you’re already trying to steal your sister’s spotlight! I don’t have such an ungrateful daughter!” I cried until my voice went completely hoarse. My mom didn’t let me back inside until dawn. Now, feeling this rare, borrowed maternal love, I began to count down in my head. Five, four, three, two… The moment I hit one, my mom’s eyes snapped back to reality. The warmth in her eyes instantly turned into pure hatred. “Why are you in Gemma’s bed?!” “Are you trying to steal the last piece of her left in this world?! Get out!” She dragged me off the bed. Practically on instinct, I scrambled out of the room before she could throw her slippers at me. I retreated to my bedroom, which was actually a modified utility closet. Compared to Gemma’s cozy room, this place was incredibly depressing. It got zero sunlight, and it was so damp and cold that I suffered from chronic eczema. Once, when the itching became unbearable, I begged my parents to move to a bigger house. I told them I didn’t want a big room like Gemma’s. I just wanted a small bedroom that got some sunlight. Our family could easily afford it. But my dad just slapped me. My mom’s hand shook with rage as she pointed at me. “This house is the only place your sister ever lived! If we move, she won’t be able to find her way home!” “How can you be so selfish?!” So, I had to retreat back into my tiny, cramped closet. Even this closet didn’t fully belong to me. Two-thirds of the space was packed with Gemma’s old things. Her old keyboard, her dolls, her roller skates. They were covered in thick layers of dust, but I wasn’t even allowed to touch them. Because they “preserved” Gemma’s scent. I wasn’t allowed to ruin it. After calming my mom down, my dad did something rare. He walked into my room. “The school board checked. You didn’t cheat. We misjudged you.” I didn’t say anything. I just stared at him quietly. “Sienna, your sister died the day before she was supposed to leave for college. That is the pain of your mother’s life.” “Even if you are a genius, you must go to that community college. This is your destiny. You have to accept it.” In the dim light, I let out a soft laugh. “I accept it.” Watching his relieved back as he walked away, I added silently in my heart: And I will surely follow my sister’s destiny, and drown the day before college starts.

To celebrate Gemma’s “new beginning,” my parents decided to throw a massive graduation party for “her.” And I was required to attend as her stand-in. My mom took it very seriously. She dug up some clothes that matched the style Gemma used to wear. Styles from twenty years ago, long outdated. They were cheap clothes my mom had bought from thrift stores or received as hand-me-downs from relatives. Some of the collars were stretched out, and the sleeves were fraying. They all smelled like stale mildew. When I was forced to wear them to school as a kid, my classmates would laugh at me behind my back. Now, I put them on without a word. Seeing me in those clothes, my mom’s eyes welled with tears. I knew she was looking at Gemma through me again. That loving gaze of hers had never once truly landed on me. “Don’t smile too much later, but keep your manners sweet,” she instructed. “Your sister was closest to your Uncle and Aunt Clara. Make sure you talk to them more.” She went over the details one by one, terrified I would make a mistake. If I didn’t act like Gemma, their beautiful dream would shatter. She had no idea that after eighteen years of acting, Gemma’s behavior was already carved into my bones. I knew Gemma better than anyone else did. At the party, every relative who saw me gasped. “Sienna looks so much like Gemma…” “Twenty years flew by so fast. Gemma used to wear clothes just like this when she greeted us.” “Yeah, she’s just like Gemma. Smart, sweet, and always knowing exactly what to say.” Everyone was using me to reminisce about Gemma. It had been like this since I was a little girl. “Sienna likes red too, and she wears her hair in the same pigtails Gemma did.” “Sienna can’t sit still either, just like Gemma. Always wanting to run wild outside.” In the beginning, I would silently scream in my head: No! I’m nothing like my sister! I hate red! I hate long hair! I just want to stay inside, read my books, and paint. I don’t want to go outside! But as the years went on, the lines blurred. What color did I actually like? What did I enjoy doing in my free time? What kind of food did I prefer? If Gemma had never existed, and I was my parents’ first child… What would my name have been? “Sienna!” A young male voice called out from behind me. I turned around in shock. It was Aunt Clara’s son. My cousin, Zach. He was three years older than me and was the only person present who had never met Gemma. And he was the only one who never called me “Gemma.” He insisted on calling me “Sienna.” Ever since he left for college out of state three years ago, we hadn’t seen each other. “Long time no see, Sienna.” He reached out and ruffled my hair, just like he used to do when we were kids. Then, he handed me a gift box. “This is your graduation present.” I took it numbly and opened it. Inside was a complete set of expensive, professional art supplies. Zach rubbed the back of his neck, looking a bit embarrassed. “I remembered you loved drawing when you were little. I hope you can still use these.” He then handed me another shopping bag. “This is from my mom.” “You’re going to college soon, so she picked out a couple of outfits suitable for a young girl.” “Hope you like them.” I looked down into the bag. Inside was a light blue sundress and a simple white t-shirt. Very basic, but my eyes welled up instantly. The fake, “Gemma-like” smile was still plastered on my face. What would the perfect “Sienna” say right now? What would she do? My mind went completely blank. I realized I didn’t even need to wait until the day before college to drown. The real Sienna had died a long time ago. The person standing here was just a cheap, broken copy of Gemma.

I stood there like a frozen robot. Seeing my silence, Zach started to panic. “What’s wrong? Do you not like them?” He looked at me, then glanced over at Aunt Clara. “If you don’t like them, we can go exchange them for something else after dinner.” I sniffed, shaking my head with a smile. “No, I love them. Thank you, Zach.” Noticing the redness in my eyes, Zach sighed softly. “Sienna, my mom told me about what’s been going on.” He patted my shoulder. “Your mom’s mental health is… really bad. You’ve had to suffer so much just to keep her happy.” “Once you start college, focus on your grades. You can apply for grad school later. Your life is just starting, Sienna. I know you’re going to have an amazing future.” Hearing Zach’s words, I could barely keep my smile from cracking. Did I really have a future? Could I really shed Gemma’s shadow and just live as myself? I got my answer that very night. As soon as we got home, my mom grabbed the art supplies Zach had given me and threw them right out the window. The paint bottles shattered on the concrete driveway below. They looked like splatters of colorful blood from someone who had just jumped. I rushed to the window, but before I could react, my mom pulled the blue dress out of the shopping bag. She flicked a lighter, and the flame instantly licked the fabric. The fire illuminated her twisted face. “Who allowed you to accept these?!” “Gemma never had things like this! What are you trying to prove by bringing them into this house?!” Recalling my cousin’s words, something inside me finally snapped. “Gemma is dead! She’s dead!” “I am Sienna! I am a living, breathing human being! I have my own tastes! I have my own life to live!” “She died at eighteen! I’ve played her ghost for eighteen years! Isn’t that enough?!” My answer was a stinging slap that cut through the air. The force knocked me to the ground, my back crashing into the memorial table. Gemma’s portrait fell with a loud crash, the glass shattering. Her hollow eyes stared straight into mine. My mom pointed a shaking finger at me, her voice trembling. “How dare you… how dare you…” “If Gemma hadn’t died, you wouldn’t even have a life to live!” “My daughter never got to have a future! What makes you think you deserve one?!” Even though I had always known she didn’t love me, hearing those words out loud made my heart shatter into a million pieces. I lay on the floor, my palm sliced open by the shards of Gemma’s frame. Blood pooled under my hand. My mom sank to her knees, crying hysterically as she cradled Gemma’s portrait in her arms. “My Gemma… my sweet Gemma…” “Does it hurt? Mommy will find a better place for you.” She walked right past me, carrying the portrait, without giving me a single glance. My dad grabbed his jacket and rushed out after her. The front door slammed shut. I closed my eyes. I’m sorry, Zach, I thought. That beautiful future you talked about… I won’t be able to see it. The hem of the burnt dress was charred black, looking like a withered flower. I pulled it over my head, put it on, and looked at the wide-open window. At this moment, I suddenly changed my mind. I didn’t want to drown like Gemma anymore. In my final moment, I wanted to end it as Sienna. This was the only tiny rebellion I had left. I climbed onto the windowsill and took one last look at this house. Then, I closed my eyes and let myself fall backward into the night.

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My sister, Foster, dragged me into her friends’ “Blind Box Dating Game.” I ended up drawing the name of the scholarship kid, Brooks. Immediately, someone gasped. “Oh, Brooks! Orphaned, raised by his sick grandma who collects trash to pay his tuition. Yet, he’s somehow always at the top of the class!” “Christy, if you can make him fall for you and then crush his heart, the satisfaction will be insane!” Pretend to fall in love with a poor guy, win his heart, and then dump him in the most humiliating way possible. They had already ruined countless people using this cruel game. Seeing my hesitation, Foster grabbed my hand tightly. “Christy, you were kidnapped for fifteen years. You finally made it back to our family.” “The only way to fit into high society and get Mom and Dad’s approval is to play along with us.” I grit my teeth and agreed, starting my approach to Brooks. Little did they know, I was playing them. I knew I was the real target. Foster had already set it up with Brooks. She wanted him to dump me first right before the one-month mark. She wanted me to be dumped by a poor kid, making me the ultimate laughingstock of the prep school. But she didn’t know that Brooks wasn’t poor. He was playing broke to test Foster—his wealthy fiancée.

“Foster, did Brooks agree?” “Why wouldn’t he? That idiot spent a whole month’s food money just to buy me a gift. I told him if he listens to me and plays along with Christy, I’ll give him a shot.” “Ugh, a girl like you is way out of his league. He’s getting a steal!” “A steal? Once Christy is ruined, he’s next…” I hid in the bathroom stall for twenty minutes. After Foster left with her friends, I picked a gemstone necklace out of the trash bin. Foster thought it was a cheap fake. But I remembered working at the mall before the school year started. Brooks, who had just returned from studying abroad, walked in once, and the shop owners treated him like royalty. “Tell everyone I’m just a poor student on financial aid. Nobody reveals my identity.” “If Foster is as shallow as they say, I won’t force myself into this arranged marriage just for old times’ sake…” He was a great actor. Foster hired bullies to mess with him at his part-time job, even slapping him hard. Yet, he took it, apologizing with lowered eyes, looking humiliated and desperate. I stepped in to defend him. Foster’s lackey gave a signal, and the bully grabbed me, his foul-smelling face leaning in: “Oh, you feel bad for him? If you want me to let him go, how about you hang out with me and have a few drinks?” His hand grabbed my waist, sliding upward. This was not in the plan. I froze, my mind going blank, panic setting in. Suddenly, Brooks pulled me behind him, shielding me, coughing heavily. The restaurant staff quickly appeared and restrained the bully. Brooks pulled me outside. “Why did you help me?” I had my lines ready: “I couldn’t just stand by and watch someone get bullied.” Foster told me poor, delusional guys fall hard for the “damsel in distress” savior trope. Brooks smiled. “Thank you. Can I have your Snapchat?” “Everyone else looks down on me. They just want to see me fail. You’re the only one who helped.” Then he offered to walk me home. I figured Foster gave him that line. But I didn’t get it. Brooks knew what Foster was like. Why was he playing along? I got my answer soon enough. I didn’t go inside when we reached my house. I hid and watched. A private driver pulled up to pick Brooks up. The driver asked him: “Sir, Foster treats you like dirt. Why do you still bother?” Brooks smirked. “She has no morals, but she has ambition.” “If she can use this game to ruin Christy’s image in front of her parents and take the entire inheritance…” “I might actually give her a business partnership.” “As for Christy, she walked right into the trap without a clue. She’s stupid but kind of entertaining. Since I’m on break, I might as well play along.” I scoffed silently. None of them were good people.

On the track field, Brooks was being humiliated. That’s the price of playing poor at a prep school. Someone stomped on his breakfast. His blood sugar crashed, and he collapsed on the ground, dizzy. Foster didn’t start it, but she stood by, watching the show. Brooks instinctively looked at her for help. She only sneered. “Why are you looking at Foster? She’s already engaged.” “Her fiancé is the only son of the Russells—the richest family in Virginia. Who do you think you are?” “I heard this trash tried to give Foster a gift. How did he even dare?” Foster stayed cold. I stepped forward and helped him up. Foster’s minion immediately seized the chance to mock me: “Look at that! Trash belongs with trash.” “Did you guys know? Christy might be Foster’s sister, but she was kidnapped and raised in some trailer park for fifteen years.” “She’s just as low-class as Brooks. She barely even finished middle school.” “No wonder her grades are always the worst. She’s a total loser…” This wasn’t part of the script. I didn’t need to get humiliated, and Brooks looked surprised. I ignored the laughter, pulled out a homemade bagel, and fed it to him to raise his blood sugar. The crowd laughed harder. “Foster, doesn’t she live with you? Why is she eating pig food?” Foster smiled. “She just came home. She’s probably not used to our lifestyle.” That was a lie. She was pampered by our parents. I was missing for fifteen years. Even after I returned, my parents looked at me with disgust and resentment. Foster convinced them that I’d go bad if I had money, so they cut off my allowance. The maids only cooked for Foster. I had to make my own meals. “Try it, it’s good. I’ve been cooking for myself since I was a kid.” Brooks took a bite, then wolfed it down, slowly regaining his strength. The crowd dispersed, leaving only me. A strange look crossed his eyes. “Thanks…” Since Foster hadn’t scripted this, he didn’t know what to say. I wiped the dirt off his face. “Don’t worry about it. Hey, could you tutor me?” I looked up at him, locking eyes. The sunlight framed his handsome face, his eyes swirling with complex emotions. After a long pause, he asked in a low, husky voice, “Are you approaching me on purpose?” I nodded. “Yes.” “Actually, I’m supposed to get close to you and make you fall in love with me.” “And then, once you love me, I’m supposed to dump you, ruin your grades, and destroy you.” “It’s a game Foster and her friends play. They forced me to join. You’re the target.” Brooks cleared his throat, looking away. “Then… why are you telling me this?” “Aren’t you afraid of failing the game and being rejected by Foster?” I shook my head. “I don’t care.” “She’s terrified I’ll steal her inheritance and her parents’ love. She’ll never accept me anyway.” “My parents listen to her. They won’t give me money for tutoring, and without it, I can’t catch up or apply to a good college.” “So I need you, Brooks. Tutor me.” “We are the same.” “We have no one to rely on. We have to fight for our own future.” Then, I saw Brooks smile. It was a genuine, appreciative smile, like he had just found a hidden treasure. “Okay. I’ll tutor you. Let’s do this together.” I smiled back. In the future, whoever wins Brooks wins the Russell empire.

Foster was thrilled with our progress, so she stopped setting up scenes. As she wished, I spent all my free time alone with Brooks in the classroom. Brooks was brilliant. Concepts that seemed impossible to me, things the teachers explained a hundred times, he could break down in seconds. Of course, sometimes he teased me for being slow, tapping my head and joking that I was giving him a headache. I’d look up at him, pout, and see him framed by the window. The golden hour light hit his face, highlighting his perfect features. I stared. His breath hitched. We both quickly looked away, pretending nothing happened, just like the times our hands accidentally brushed. Two weeks flew by. My midterm grades skyrocketed, almost catching up to Foster’s. She started getting anxious. “You nerd! I told you to seduce Brooks, not do homework with him!” “How is he going to fall in love with you if you’re just studying?” “How are we going to ruin him after the breakup? Where is the fun in that?” “Take him to the mall this weekend!” “Buy him a watch or some sneakers. That’s how you hook him. Got it?” I remembered overhearing Foster asking our parents to take her shopping this weekend. I realized what she was planning and agreed. Besides, Brooks’s birthday was coming up, and I wanted to get him something. When I went to find him, I overheard him on the phone with Foster. Foster’s voice was demanding: “You know what to do if you run into my parents, right?” “Act close with Christy. Make it look like you’ve already slept together…” After he hung up, disgust flashed in his eyes. I waited a moment before walking in to invite him to the mall. Brooks asked, “I thought you said your parents don’t give you money?” I smiled. “I have my ways.” That weekend, I took Brooks to a flea market first. I pulled out the gemstone necklace he had given Foster. His face darkened. “Where did you get that?” “Foster threw it in the trash. I liked it, so I kept it.” “It looks expensive. Honestly, I don’t want to sell it. But Brooks—” The weather was getting cold, and he was still wearing a thin, worn-out jacket. I touched his hand, my eyes filled with concern. “Your hands are always freezing. I want you to be warm.” His breath hitched. I could feel something shifting in his eyes. He slowly leaned in, closer and closer. Just when I could hear his heartbeat, a hand snatched the necklace. “Looks nice. How about $300?” “You kids look poor, this probably isn’t even yours. $300 is a steal.” Brooks grit his teeth. “You bastard, that’s my—” He stopped himself. I haggled with the customer. “$566.” “$566? Why such an odd number? $400 max!” I stood firm. “$566. Not a penny less.” Because the coat I wanted to buy Brooks was exactly $566. Seeing the price tag on the coat later, Brooks’s eyes turned slightly red. “Christy, you…” I cut him off, wrapping the coat around him. “Happy birthday, Brooks.” Suddenly, he grabbed my hand and pulled me into his chest. I struggled weakly, then let myself melt into his embrace. The warm moment was shattered by a sharp voice behind us. “Christy! What do you think you’re doing?”

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My intern, Chloe Jenkins, used a ghost-mirroring hack on my bank account. No matter how much money I saved, my balance would always magically drop to exactly $50. In my past life, my ultimate dream was to buy a condo near our office in Manhattan. I worked myself to the bone until I finally saved up $50,000 for the down payment. But when I swiped my card at the leasing office, the sales agent gave me a pitying look. “Declined. Insufficient funds.” I checked my transaction history, argued with the bank, and even went to the police. But everyone treated me like I was insane. Because on paper, my bank statement showed every single purchase clear as day. But I had never made those luxury purchases! I was living on instant ramen! I called my parents back in Ohio, sobbing, only to get a cold scolding in return. “Ava, are you seriously making up stories to cover up your reckless spending?” “What a ridiculous lie! If you need money, just ask. You don’t have to invent a sci-fi conspiracy theory.” When I told my colleagues, some of the toxic male agents in our office looked at my statements and started snickering. “Wow, Ava spends thousands at high-end hotel bars at 2 AM. That’s exactly what it costs to hire a hot male escort for the night!” No matter how much I explained, the gossip only grew. I posted my story anonymously on Twitter, but the comments ridiculed me, calling me a clout-chaser trying to set up a scam. Only one anonymous user left a serious comment: “Watch the people around you. See if anyone’s lifestyle matches your leaked bills.” I started watching. Sure enough, I noticed our new intern, Chloe Jenkins. Every time she bought something, a notification popped up on my phone showing a deduction of the exact same amount. Even when she ordered a Starbucks drink, my card was charged instantly. Once I was sure, I confronted her. She just laughed in my face, calling me a crazy, broke loser who was jealous of her lifestyle. She even rallied the rest of the office against me, painting me as a manic stalker, and successfully had me committed to a psychiatric facility. I spent two agonizing years in that mental ward. Unable to take the torture anymore, I finally found a chance to escape and threw myself into the Hudson River. But when I opened my eyes again… I was back. Back to the day before I was supposed to sign the papers for my new condo.

After my rebirth, the very first thing I did was open my banking app. Unsurprisingly, my balance was exactly $50. I quickly pieced my thoughts together. At this moment, my hard-earned money had already been transferred to Chloe’s card through whatever sick method she was using. I wanted to rip her throat out. But in my past life, after my suicide, I saw my parents’ hair turn white overnight with grief. I regretted it instantly. If I acted impulsively like before, I would only ruin my life again. Just then, my manager, Sarah Miller, called me over. “Ava, this new listing is a tough nut to crack, but the commission is a sweet five grand! Don’t say I never look out for you!” My throat tightened. I swallowed hard, almost on instinct. Five thousand dollars. That was enough to cover my Manhattan rent and leave me with plenty of pocket money. But I forced myself to shake my head. “Thanks, Sarah. But for the next month, I’m taking a break from taking new clients.” Ignoring Sarah’s bewildered expression, I turned and walked out of her glass office. The office partitions were thin, and everyone outside had already heard. Instantly, whispers erupted. “Isn’t Ava Vance the top sales agent in the whole company? They call her the ‘Deal Machine.’ Why is she turning down a client?” “Not just today. Didn’t you hear her? She’s taking a whole month off!” Ignoring the gossip, I pulled out my phone, opened UberEats, and ordered the largest iced Americano. It wiped out the last $50 from my account. In my past life, I wouldn’t even spend $4 on gas station coffee. To survive in a cutthroat city like New York, I had practically chained my life to my desk. I worked until 3 AM making cold calls, got up before dawn, and squeezed myself into the subway like a canned sardine for a two-hour commute just to clock in on time. One minute late meant a $50 deduction. That was my food budget for an entire week. My dream was to own a home near the office, even if it was just a tiny 300-square-foot studio. Every month when my commission hit, I kept only $300 for basic groceries. The rest went straight into my savings. Yet, the $50,000 I nearly died saving had ended up in someone else’s designer bag! Right then, the glass doors of the office were pushed open. “Hey guys! Lunch is on me today!” Chloe’s loud, obnoxious voice echoed through the room. Her face was glowing, and she was flaunting a brand-new Chanel handbag, looking like a trailer-trash lottery winner trying to act rich. “We’re going to the Grand Imperial Hotel! Order whatever you want!” The office erupted. Colleagues swarmed her instantly. “Chloe! Did you hit the jackpot?” “Did you find yourself a sugar daddy?” I didn’t move. I just sipped my coffee, my eyes cold as ice, staring at her. Because I knew she was spending my money. Surrounded by the crowd, Chloe waved her hands in mock modesty. “Oh, stop it! I just bought a scratch-off ticket the other day and hit a small prize.” Someone immediately nudged her. “How much did you win?”

Chloe shot a glance at me, a smug smirk playing on her lips. “Not much,” she said casually. “Just around fifty grand.” A collective gasp echoed through the office. Fifty thousand dollars was a massive sum for us 9-to-5 corporate drones. But I noticed that ever since Chloe walked in, her eyes kept darting back to me. She was watching me. Like an scientist observing a lab rat. She was waiting to see if I had discovered that my bank account was completely drained. I clamped down on the raging hatred inside me, forcing down the urge to scream at her. Not yet. I couldn’t startle the snake before I had the trap ready. I stood up, pasting on a perfect, polite smile that looked exactly like genuine envy. “Congratulations, Chloe! You’ve got to let some of that luck rub off on me.” Seeing how normal I acted, a flash of surprise crossed Chloe’s eyes, followed by a subtle, relieved sigh. She probably thought I was still clueless about my empty bank account. As lunchtime approached, Mia, who sat next to me, leaned over. “Ava, didn’t you say you’d saved enough for a down payment? When are we going to see the condo? I’ll go with you.” At the mention of the condo, my fists clenched so hard my nails dug into my palms. But I quickly relaxed them, keeping my expression breezy. “No rush,” I said. “I lost my ID card a couple of days ago, and the DMV is taking forever to mail the replacement. Plus, the housing market is fluctuating. I’ll wait and see.” The moment the words left my mouth, I felt that burning gaze on me again. It was Chloe. She was staring, a hint of glee slipping into her eyes. Chloe was an intern who had only joined two months ago. At five-foot-three and nearly two hundred pounds, she had average looks and the worst sales record in the department. In our luxury real estate agency, where looks and sales charts determined your survival, she should have been at the very bottom of the food chain. Yet, in my past life, she took my $50,000, got full-body liposuction, and underwent extensive plastic surgery. She transformed herself into a wealthy, gorgeous IT-girl overnight. Then, she used my money to bribe our coworkers, teamed up with a few male agents, and had me thrown into an asylum under the guise that I had “lost my mind.” Thinking of the two years of torture in that hospital, I took a deep breath to steady my racing heart. At noon, Chloe took us to the Grand Imperial Hotel. She grandly announced we could order whatever we wanted. I didn’t hold back. I flipped the menu straight to the most expensive pages. “We’ll have the Alaskan King Crab, the largest one you have.” “The bluefin tuna sashimi platter.” “And the wagyu ribeye.” With every dish I ordered, our colleagues’ eyes widened. Mia gently tugged my sleeve. “Ava… isn’t this a bit too much? It’s so expensive.” I smiled at her and said nothing. I was spending my own money. How could it be a waste? Chloe’s cheek twitched, but with everyone watching, she had to keep up her rich-girl act. “It’s fine! Ava is our top agent, she works so hard. She deserves a good meal to recharge!” She smiled brightly, though her eyes were twitching. “After all, you need to keep working hard to bring in more sales for our team!” Before I could reply, a coworker nearby chimed in. “Oh, Chloe, you weren’t here this morning. Ava told Sarah she’s taking a break. She’s not taking any new listings for the next month.” The air in the room instantly froze. I slowly wiped my mouth with a silk napkin and looked up at Chloe. The smile on her face stiffened, cracking inch by inch. “What did you say?” She stared at me, her voice rising to a sharp, hysterical pitch. “Ava, why are you taking a break?” “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

I met Chloe’s furious, panicked gaze and let my lips curl into a slow smile. “I’m taking a break. Why are you so worked up about it?” The surrounding colleagues looked back and forth between us, their eyes gleaming with gossip. “Yeah, Chloe,” Mia couldn’t help but speak up. “Ava isn’t even worried. Why are you reacting so strongly?” “Seriously. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were the one losing the commissions.” The whispers acted like a bucket of cold water, snapping Chloe out of her panic. The ugly snarl on her face instantly vanished, replaced by a look of deep, fake concern. “I… I’m just worried for Ava!” She raised her voice, trying to sound sincere. “Didn’t she say she was just a few sales away from her down payment? The units at Brookside Luxury are selling out fast! If she stops now, she’ll lose so much money! I’m just feeling terrible for her!” She looked like she was about to cry. It was an Oscar-worthy performance. I chuckled. “I’m just tired. I want to rest.” I casually picked up a piece of king crab, slowly cracking the shell. “Besides,” I paused, looking up at her with an innocent expression, “didn’t you just win the lottery? Fifty thousand dollars is a lot. If I’m really short on my down payment… surely you wouldn’t mind lending me some, right?” The air froze again. Every eye in the room locked onto Chloe. The color drained from her face, leaving her ghostly pale. Her lips trembled, but she couldn’t utter a single word. I popped the sweet crab meat into my mouth and added casually, “Our Chloe is so generous. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind, right?” Trapped under the weight of everyone’s gaze, she practically squeezed the words out of her throat. “Of… of course.” Fearing I would actually ask for the cash right there, she quickly added, “But, I didn’t win “that” much. It’s… it’s just some pocket money.” I glanced at her brand-new Celine dress, the limited-edition Chanel bag on her chair, and the lavish feast on the table that cost more than a normal person’s monthly rent. Indeed. My $50,000 wouldn’t last her more than a few weeks at this rate. I thoroughly enjoyed that lunch. Before we left, I had the waiter pack up the untouched king crab and wagyu beef. A few colleagues whispered behind my back. “Oh my god, packing up leftovers at a celebratory lunch? That is so tacky.” “Right? Acted like she’s never eaten real food before. How embarrassing.” I heard them but didn’t care. I just turned to Chloe with a sweet smile. “Chloe, thank you so much for the treat. It would be a crime to waste such good food. You don’t mind if I take it home, do you?” Chloe’s face looked like a rotten eggplant. But in front of everyone, she could only grit her teeth and nod. “No… I don’t mind.” Back at the office, I casually placed the takeout boxes into the communal fridge, completely ignoring the judgmental looks of my coworkers. In the afternoon, I knocked on the door of the finance office. “Brenda, I need to request an emergency cash advance from the company’s petty cash fund.” Brenda looked up from her computer. “Company policy says the manager needs to sign off on it, and all payments are normally processed through direct deposit at the end of the month.” I handed her a pre-signed form. “Sarah already approved it.” “And I don’t want a direct deposit.” “I need cash.” If my money got sucked out of my bank account like a ghost, then I would just use physical cash. Let’s see her transfer paper bills. An hour later, I walked back to my desk with a thick envelope of cash. It was my base salary and part of last month’s commission—$15,000. I stuffed the envelope into the deepest, zippered compartment of my tote bag. In my past life, my descent into hell started with that stolen $50,000. In this life, I would claw my way back starting with this $15,000. But I hadn’t even warmed up my seat for five minutes. My right eyelid began to twitch violently. Thump. Thump. Thump. It grew more intense by the second. A wave of dread washed over me. I quickly unzipped my bag and reached into the inner compartment— Empty! The envelope was still there, but the thick stack of bills was gone! My blood ran cold. The hair on my arms stood up. I hadn’t realized that Chloe’s deposit transfer trick was completely unrestricted by physical distance! Was she trying to cut off all my lifelines? I looked over at Chloe’s desk. A flash of triumphant glee was written all over her face. I clenched my fists. Fortunately, I had already prepared a counter-strategy.

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