Category: English

I was reborn, sent back to my teenage years alongside the boy I grew up with, the boy with autism. This time, Trey pulled his hand from mine, clumsily bought a bouquet of flowers, and gave them to the girl he saw as his sun, Stacy. All because Stacy loved to tease him with crude, flirty jokes. After being subjected to her relentless teasing, something in him clicked. He thought he was cured. In my past life, I had spent over a decade caring for him, painstakingly teaching him how to express his own likes and dislikes. I never imagined the first thing he’d learn to express so casually, so cruelly, would be directed at me: “You’re… annoying. Not as likable as she is…” I looked down from the window. On the lawn below, a girl and a boy were wrapped in an embrace. She was bold; he was shy, pulling away with a blush. Fine. This was for the best. I didn’t want to spend another lifetime tethered to a patient. 1 “Hey, are you really autistic?” Stacy tilted her head, a playful grin on her face as she poked Trey’s arm. “Because you weren’t so quiet last night… when you were in bed. What happened to the autism then?” Trey’s ears flushed a deep crimson. His usually stoic face broke into a flicker of startled surprise. “I… I didn’t…” The classroom fell silent for a beat before erupting in a flurry of whispers. “Oh my god, did you guys hear that? Trey actually spoke! Isn’t that the second time today?” “Hilarious. Guess the unconventional methods work faster. Unlike some people…” The speaker shot a pointed glance in my direction before trailing off. I kept my face impassive, my eyes fixed on the book in my lap, pretending I didn’t know they were talking about me. It was true. This was the second time Trey had spoken voluntarily today. The first was when our teacher had tried to rearrange the seating chart to put me next to him. He had, for the first time ever, voiced his own opinion. “I don’t want to.” The words were so fluid, so natural, that even the teacher was stunned into silence at her desk. After a quick call with Trey’s mother, the teacher had nodded, relieved. “Alright then, no changes.” “And Stacy, tone it down. Stop picking on Trey.” I stood up, and before I could even take a step, Trey spoke again, his voice dripping with revulsion. “I told you, I’m not taking the meds anymore.” “For every pill you try to give me, I’ll just throw one away.” For a moment, I was lost in a daze, the past and present blurring into one. Trey’s tone, the look in his eyes—it was identical to before. The whispers of my classmates wormed their way into my ears. “God, isn’t Rochelle embarrassed? Trey must be so sick of her. Who wants someone chasing them with pills after school every day?” “And have you noticed how much he talks around Stacy? He seems totally normal.” “Brooding, quiet boy and the cheerful, popular girl? I ship it!” And Stacy, the so-called cheerful girl, was now smiling as she gently pinched Trey’s pale cheek. “Really? Am I that special to you?” “Look at you, blushing again. So cute.” Trey’s eyelashes fluttered. He quickly averted his gaze, and for a split second, his eyes met mine. In that instant, they turned cold as ice, all the vibrant emotion from moments before completely gone. A thought struck me. Could he have been reborn, too? Was that why he refused to sit next to me? Heh. Even better. 2 After school, Trey slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked out of the classroom ahead of me. Charles, the driver waiting at the school gates, did a double-take. “Sir? Aren’t you waiting for Miss Rochelle?” Trey’s lips were pressed into a thin line. He didn’t answer. Charles was used to it. He shot a disapproving look at me as I trailed behind. “Miss Rochelle,” he said, his voice low, “why weren’t you keeping up? If something were to happen to the young master, how would I explain it to Mrs. Montgomery?” See? He called me “Miss” out of habit, but he never truly saw me as anything more than the help. I suppose that’s what happens when your family loses everything. “Charles, let’s go.” Trey, who rarely spoke, suddenly gave a command. Charles was so surprised he forgot the lecture he was about to give me. “Young master? You… you spoke to me?” Charles grinned foolishly, so caught up in the moment that he didn’t notice a stranger approaching. “Wow, Trey, is this your family’s car?” “How much does something like this cost?” Charles frowned, about to shoo Stacy away, but then he saw Trey open the car door himself. Trey nervously fiddled with the hem of his shirt. “If you like it… it’s yours.” Stacy’s eyes went wide. “Hahahaha! Do you even know what you’re saying?” “You’re really going to give it to me?” Trey nodded earnestly and stepped out of the car, gesturing for her to get in. A muscle in Charles’s jaw twitched. He stared at Stacy in disbelief. Anyone who knew Trey knew that he hated anyone invading his personal space. It had taken me six months just to be allowed to ride in the same car with him. But Stacy was different. For Trey, she was the exception. A first. She patted his head like he was an obedient puppy. “Oh my god, you’re so naive. Aren’t you afraid of being taken advantage of?” “Alright, I’ll stop teasing you. See you tomorrow, my sweet little desk mate.” She walked away humming, radiating pure joy. Trey seemed to catch her infectious happiness, a small smile playing on his lips. He watched until her figure disappeared completely before turning around and, right in front of me, slamming the car door shut with a loud thud. Charles had forgotten I even existed. His usual professional calm was gone, replaced by an eagerness to race home and tell Trey’s mother everything he had just witnessed. The car sped off, leaving me in a cloud of exhaust. I glanced at my phone. My rideshare was five minutes away. Good thing I hadn’t counted on them. 3 That night, the Montgomery mansion next door was filled with joy and laughter, while our house was suffocating in silence. “What happened? Why didn’t you come home with him?” “Can’t you even handle a simple task like looking after someone? I’ve wasted all these years raising you!” My mother cautiously handed my father a cup of tea. “Don’t yell at her. Calm down.” But he swatted the cup away. It crashed to the floor, shattering into sharp, glittering fragments. He stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Our villa, already sparsely furnished, felt even emptier with one less person in it. My mother sighed, her voice soft. “Rochelle, did you and Trey have a fight?” “You know how he is, honey. He’s a simple boy. You just need to be more patient and understanding. Our family’s future depends on the Montgomerys…” Back when my father hadn’t gambled away our family’s fortune, we were on equal footing with the Montgomerys. At least, we didn’t have to bend over backward to please them at the slightest suggestion from Trey’s mother. I paused in my cleanup of the broken porcelain. “Mom, I’m a senior this year. I’ll be in college soon. I can earn my own money and build my own life.” “Why do we have to pin all our hopes on the Montgomerys, and on… him?” “Your father will change! The Montgomerys lent him money. He’s going to turn things around.” Her voice grew quieter, lacking any real conviction. But Mom, don’t you know? Even if I did exactly as you wished and fawned over Trey, Dad would never have been able to kick his gambling habit. He didn’t stop until he’d mortgaged this very house—the last symbol of his pride—and then jumped from the roof. In the end, we were left with nothing, completely dependent on the Montgomerys’ charity. My hand clenched instinctively. The sharp pain of a porcelain shard digging into my palm jolted me back to the present. My mother gasped, gently disinfecting the wound. Just then, a notification lit up my phone. It was a message from Trey. [You’re disgusting. So annoying.] [Stay away from me from now on.] People with autism often seem to lack social graces. They speak bluntly, without considering the feelings of others. In my past life, I spent more than a decade with Trey, painstakingly teaching him how to express his dislikes in a constructive way. Not through hitting, breaking things, or cruel words. He was a slow learner, but he had made progress. Once, when his mother offered him a glass of warm milk to calm his nerves, he hadn’t smashed it like he used to. He had simply said, calmly, “I don’t want it.” His mother had cried with joy. I had stood by, a small smile on my face. Even though, hidden beneath my long sleeve, was a permanent scar from a burn he’d given me with a cup of hot water. I lowered my eyes and typed a reply. [Fine.] 4 The next morning, my father grabbed my arm and dragged me to the Montgomerys’ front door, a sycophantic smile plastered on his face. “Is Trey here? He hasn’t left yet, has he?” The Montgomerys’ butler gave him a cool, dismissive glance. “The young master left some time ago. Mrs. Montgomery has instructed that Miss Rochelle should get to school on her own from now on.” The butler offered a tight, apologetic smile. “You understand our young master’s condition. We can’t have him being overstimulated.” My father’s expression froze. He shot me a furious glare. I ignored him, dodging the slap he aimed at my head and walking calmly toward school. When I entered the classroom, I saw Trey and Stacy huddled together, sharing breakfast. “Jules, I don’t have an appetite. I just want a piece of you.” “Hey, how come you’re not eating your sausage…” “Oh, right. I remember. You have your own.” Trey, who had been eating with quiet refinement, turned beet red. “Don’t… don’t say things like that,” he stammered. Stacy’s friends roared with laughter. “Stacy, you’re wild! You could probably make a mute person talk, let alone someone with autism.” Stacy raised an eyebrow, triumphant. She grabbed my arm as I walked by. “Rochelle, back me up here.” “He doesn’t really have autism, does he? He’s just an introvert, right?” “I mean, he can’t only talk this much around me.” I pulled my arm away. Before I could say a word, Trey cut in. “You’re different.” “She’s like my mom,” he said, nodding toward me, “nagging and annoying.” “Not cute like you.” The other students’ faces were a mix of amusement and ridicule. They were all enjoying the show. A profound weariness washed over me. I felt tired for the old me. Before I was assigned to be Trey’s keeper, I was the envied daughter of a wealthy family. But to fulfill my duty, I humbled myself, catered to his every whim, and yielded to him in everything. Even a dog shows gratitude after a few days. In my past life, if it hadn’t been for that car accident on the way to the courthouse, I would have been shackled to him forever. And still, he was like this. He had learned how to communicate normally, how to smile at strangers. But with me, he was always sharp, cruel, completely disregarding my feelings. Was it really Stacy’s sunny disposition that had changed him, made him a little more normal? No. It was the result of my decade of tireless effort in our past life. But everyone just took it for granted, handing all the credit to Stacy. I looked Trey straight in the eye and smiled. “Well, I certainly don’t have a son as old as you.” 5 In my past life, my future had been mapped out for me by Trey’s mother. Trey was going to the Crestwood Conservatory, so I had to study music therapy, a niche and unpopular field. Using the music he loved to heal him—in his mother’s eyes, it was the perfect plan. It didn’t matter that I had no aptitude for music, or that the degree would be useless for finding a job. As long as it was useful for Trey, that was all that mattered. As a reward, the Montgomerys would provide my father with capital and business opportunities. Back then, at school, Trey was often triggered by loud noises or unexpected movements. He would have a meltdown, becoming anxious and agitated. He’d flip desks, uncontrollably digging his nails into his own skin until his hands were bloody. I would have to put down my notes and, under the complicated stares of our classmates, gently comfort him. Right. Where was his “little sun” then? Oh, she was in the crowd of onlookers, whispering with everyone else. Trey could lie to himself, but I hadn’t forgotten. On his eighteenth birthday, the Montgomerys threw a lavish party. It wasn’t just to celebrate his coming of age, but to showcase to the world his miraculous recovery. At the party, Stacy was the guest of honor. She wore a custom-made gown, a diamond necklace sparkling at her throat. Under the bright lights, she stood with her arm linked through Trey’s, greeting guests with a radiant smile. They looked like a perfect couple. I had no appetite, so I slipped out into the garden as the party was winding down. There, I stumbled upon Stacy and Trey, laughing together. She was holding a bouquet of sunflowers. “Why did you get me these?” she asked, with a playful pout. “Everyone else gives roses…” Trey’s reply was serious. “You’re warm. Like a sunflower.” “When I see you, I’m happy.” “What about Rochelle? Didn’t you two grow up together?” “What is she like?” I stood in the shadows, watching his expression clearly. He frowned, a look of cold annoyance on his face. “She’s like this.” He gestured vaguely toward the ground. At the clover. Not the lucky four-leaf kind. Just a weed. The evening air was thick and warm. The cicadas buzzed restlessly. Their chirping echoed my own frantic heartbeat, which then abruptly stopped, as if doused in ice water. I saw Stacy stand on her tiptoes and press a kiss to Trey’s cheek. The tips of Trey’s ears turned red. He shyly looked away, and that’s when he saw me in the corner. I felt a profound sense of pointlessness and turned to leave. “Rochelle!” Trey called out, jogging over to me. A faint blush still colored his cheeks. “Your mom came to see me. She still wants us to go to the same university.” “Your mom worries too much. Stacy is clearly a better match for you than I am.” Trey frowned. “But I told my mom I only want you.” I looked up, surprised. He turned his head away. “When I have an episode… I’m ugly.” So that was it. That’s why he only wanted me. He saved his best side for Stacy, leaving only his uncontrolled, volatile self to hurt me. I was to be his glorified nanny, trailing behind him, forcing him to take his medication even when he hated me for it. Managing his emotions, putting him first in everything. Things the delicate “little sun” couldn’t possibly handle. From a distance, Stacy called his name, her voice sweet. “Come on, Jules! I’ll take you to do something you love.” But he didn’t move. I knew he was waiting for my reassurance. He wasn’t blind to my efforts; he just felt entitled to them. I composed myself and gave him a bright smile. “Of course. I’ll always be with you.” He heard my answer and happily ran toward Stacy. The smile vanished from my eyes. Trey, after the SATs, you can take your sunflower and go your separate ways. I will finally leave you, and I will be the most resilient weed you’ve ever seen. I just wonder, when you have your next meltdown, will your little sun still shine so brightly? I can’t wait to see. 6 During my breaks from studying, gossip about Trey and Stacy was unavoidable. They said Stacy had convinced Trey to sneak out of school with her. Or that they had secretly taken a trip to a music festival in the next state. My mom told me that Trey’s mother had waited for them at the train station, her face grim, surrounded by a group of men. She had burst into tears the moment she saw him. She saw a Trey who was vibrant and full of life. Everyone said Stacy was Trey’s salvation, that their story was like a high school romance novel come to life. Even my mom looked at me with pity. “It’s such a shame you and Trey just weren’t meant to be.” I just kept my head down, studying, a world apart from the lively chatter around me. To help the seniors de-stress, the school organized a Christmas talent show. Surprisingly, Trey was scheduled to perform. He stood on stage in a simple white shirt and black pants, his quiet presence enough to capture the entire auditorium’s attention. “Rochelle.” I turned at the sound of my name. He was fiddling with his fingers. “I went to your house to find you. You weren’t there.” Did he really expect me to be at his beck and call? “I moved into the dorms a while ago.” He frowned, clearly trying to remember when I had moved out. He looked like he was about to say more, but I had no interest in listening. Stacy bounced over to him, doing a little twirl in her dress. “Do I look pretty today?” Trey must have nodded because I heard Stacy immediately say, “Then say it. Say ‘I like Stacy.’” I fought the urge to roll my eyes and turned to leave. But Trey’s voice carried clearly. He asked, “What is ‘like’?” Stacy, not getting the response she expected, froze. She quickly recovered, forcing a smile. “You said you’re happy when you see me, right?” “That’s what ‘like’ is.” Trey nodded thoughtfully but said nothing more. When it was his turn to perform, the applause was deafening. In everyone’s eyes, he was no longer the boy with severe autism, but a quiet, composed, and exceptionally talented musician. A cheerful melody flowed from his long, slender fingers. It was hard to believe that someone who seemed so aloof could have such a rich inner world. I clapped along with the crowd, but I knew the truth. This was the piece he had written for Stacy in our past life. Now, he was finally playing it for his sun, out in the open. When the song ended, Stacy, in her formal gown, walked onto the stage to present him with flowers. Everyone was saying they were a match made in heaven. Someone whistled loudly, and the cheers threatened to bring the roof down. I slipped out quietly and stood in the hallway, taking a deep breath.

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I was scrolling through a forum late at night when a post caught my eye. [Giving away my girlfriend of 7 years, free of charge. Lightly used.] [5’5″, 104 lbs, D-cup. The devoted type. Your wish is her command.] [DM for her contact info.] The comment section was a dumpster fire, already a thousand replies deep. 【Dude, post pics or it didn’t happen.】 【Who cares what she looks like in the dark? With a body like that, I’m in. OP, check your DMs.】 【If she’s so great, why are you giving her away?】 The original poster replied. 【Too clingy. It’s annoying.】 My brow furrowed the more I read. I was about to close the tab when a notification pinged on my phone. A new friend request. [Hey. You’ve been given to me.] 1 It took less than a second for the pieces to click into place. Bernard had posted me online. A giveaway. Like an unwanted piece of furniture. The irony was laughable. A moment ago, I was feeling sorry for the poor woman whose boyfriend would write such a thing. Now, with a strange, chilling calm, I clicked on his profile. The account was new. His first post was in March. [No one in this world gets me.] In April, a new lament. [My art is as worthless as I am. There’s no hope for my life.] Then came May. I stared at the photo of a girl’s back, her silhouette against a sunlit window. [She has finally appeared.] [Jasmine understands me. She understands my art.] [We are kindred spirits. Soulmates.] [A meeting of minds, long overdue.] [The gardenias are in bloom.] He didn’t mention me until June. [I noticed a split end in C’s hair. It was disgusting. Like a smudge on a clean canvas, a misplaced brush, a torn piece of paper.] C. The first letter of my name. Chloe. [Vulgar.] By July, their romance was in full swing. [I wish I had met you from the start.] [I’ve painted you, my beautiful Jasmine.] I felt like a clown, a peeping Tom spying on my own life’s demolition. And then, August. [Giving away my girlfriend of 7 years, free of charge. Lightly used.] Click. The bedroom door opened. Bernard walked in, heading straight for the closet to pull out his favorite white suit. I had ironed it for him after I got home from work; not a single crease marred the fabric. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, a flicker of satisfaction. “You can go to bed,” he said coolly, on his way out. “Don’t wait up for me.” He didn’t even look at me. He hadn’t touched me in two months. The last time we’d been intimate, he had abruptly pulled away, his face a mask of disgust. “Are you feeling sick again?” I had asked, concerned. He gave a barely perceptible nod, his gaze sliding away from my body. Now I knew why. He must have seen that single, offensive split end. It was 11:30 PM. He left, dressed to the nines. I lay in bed, reading those thirteen posts over and over again. At one in the morning, I smashed the lock on his studio door. 2 I had given him half of our 1300-square-foot apartment for his studio. I didn’t even have a key. I flipped on the switch, and the room was flooded with the harsh glare of a fluorescent light. It was immaculate, spotless. Paintings were stacked neatly against the walls. I scanned them one by one, my eyes finally landing on the only framed piece in the room, tucked away in a corner. The ornate frame was a testament to how much he cherished it. The girl in the portrait was ethereal, her expression full of life and charm. How long does it take to create an oil painting so detailed you could see the pores on her skin? I had no idea. The portrait he painted of me had been a two-hour rush job. I remembered how thrilled I had been, circling the canvas again and again, chattering excitedly. I had ignored the coolness in his eyes. The painting I had treasured like a priceless artifact was nothing compared to this masterpiece. I squeezed my eyes shut, a familiar ache twisting in my gut. I remembered the first time I saw Bernard. He was standing on the ledge of a sixteen-story building. I had called out to him, coaxing him, practically tricking him, until he was safely back on the roof. It was only when the danger had passed that I realized my own legs were trembling. He just stared at me, silent. Such a fragile soul. In my arrogance, I thought I could save him. A decade of my life had been tangled up with his since that day. He was an artist. He’d list one painting a month for sale, but no one ever bought them. So, every month, I would anonymously buy his work for a thousand dollars. I worked overtime, schmoozed clients, drank until my stomach bled. When I was discharged from the hospital, the first thing I did was buy him a bouquet of roses. He said nothing. He just posted online. [Vulgar.] So, it was Jasmine he liked. Beautiful Jasmine. A laugh escaped my lips, sharp and humorless. How stupid I had been, unable to see the disgust that was so plainly written. How naive, to waste my youth and arrive at thirty with nothing to show for it. Ten years of my life, summed up by him in two words: “The devoted type.” My phone pinged. A text from Bernard: [Wake up and accept the friend request.] Ten minutes later, another one. [He’s the new boyfriend I found for you.] 3 My hand tightened around my phone. I took a picture of the painting and sent it to him. [This is Jasmine, right?] Bernard, usually so aloof, was suddenly frantic. [How did you get into my studio?] [Chloe, don’t you dare touch my paintings.] He rushed home, his white suit slightly disheveled. He visibly relaxed when he saw the painting was unharmed, but his brow quickly furrowed in anger. “What the hell is wrong with you? Breaking into my studio in the middle of the night?” “My studio?” I said, my voice cold. “I walk into a room in my own damn apartment, and you think I’m crazy?” “You post your girlfriend for sale online, and that’s not crazy?” “You send a strange man her contact info, and that’s not crazy?” A flicker of surprise crossed his face before it was replaced by his usual indifference. “Relax. I vetted them.” “The one I sent you was the best of the bunch. Thirty-two, five-ten, in good shape, stable job. He’d be a good husband.” He added, as if it were a kindness, “We were together for seven years. I put some thought into it.” It was the middle of a sweltering August, but a chill crept deep into my bones. We had known each other for ten years, been in love for seven. The man standing before me was a block of ice I could never melt. I took a deep breath. It was all so pointless. “We’re breaking up, Bernard. And who I marry is none of your goddamn business.” The moment, when it came, was far quieter than I had ever imagined. I always thought a breakup like this would be a gut-wrenching, soul-tearing affair. He looked stunned. “Chloe, are you serious?” “Yes.” He frowned, then whispered, “Okay… Thank you.” I nodded. “Get your things and be out by tomorrow.” My gaze swept over the expensive art supplies. “Take what you need. Throw the rest out.” We were as calm as if we were discussing what to have for dinner. He hesitated. I rubbed my temples and turned to leave. Suddenly, his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. “Are you angry with me?” His brow was knitted together, a hint of panic in his eyes. I used to love smoothing out those lines with my thumb, murmuring words of comfort. Now, I was just tired. So incredibly tired. “Honestly? Posting that was deeply disrespectful. If you wanted to break up, you could have just told me. You didn’t need to be passive-aggressive, you didn’t need to give me the silent treatment, and you certainly didn’t need to humiliate me like that. I wouldn’t have clung to you.” “Let’s just leave it at that. I have to work in the morning. If you’re going to pack now, please be quiet.” 4 He let go of my wrist, his frown deepening. “You’re still so materialistic. All you care about is money.” “Jasmine isn’t like that. She loves art, just like me.” A bitter smile touched my lips. “It’s three in the morning. Do whatever you want, you high-minded, brilliant artist.” Whether he stayed to say goodbye to his precious studio or ran off to find his soulmate, it had nothing to do with me anymore. He looked as if I’d struck him. “Fine,” he repeated, nodding. “Fine.” I reached the doorway when he called my name again. “Chloe!” I wanted to ignore him, but then he said, “Why did you have to ruin my painting?” I turned back. He was pointing at the frame. There was a fingerprint on it, so faint you had to be inches away to see it. But for him, it was as intolerable as the split end. His face was a mask of revulsion. “You’re jealous of Jasmine, so you just casually destroyed a painting I spent a whole month on?” “You can pretend to be all calm and collected, but you can’t hide the vulgarity in your soul!” His contempt was a scalpel, trying to peel back my skin. He called me dirty, because of what had happened to me when I was eighteen. He called me materialistic, because at thirty, I drank with clients until I was hospitalized. He spat out the final words. “You’re disgusting.” A cold sweat broke out on my forehead. My fingertips trembled as I reached out and smudged the fingerprint on the frame. “What are you doing now?” he demanded, his voice tight with anger. I smiled, a thin, sharp curve of my lips. Then I grabbed a nearby tube of paint and squeezed its contents all over the canvas. The faint, beautiful smile on Jasmine’s face vanished under a wave of color. The entire painting became an ugly, grotesque mess. His expression froze, his mind unable to process what he was seeing. I looked at him, at the fire that was starting to burn in his eyes, and said, enunciating every word, “Get. Out. Of. My. House. Now.” “Fine! Don’t you regret this!” he roared. “Don’t come crying back to me!” He slammed the door on his way out. The sound was so loud it made my own heart shudder. I didn’t have the energy to clean up the mess. I dragged my exhausted body back to my room and collapsed into bed. As I closed my eyes, the forum post replayed in my mind. A comment in the thread asked: 【What do you mean by ‘lightly used’?】 His reply: 【She’s not clean.】 Four words I had scrolled past, deliberately ignored. Now they echoed in my head, a relentless loop. Bernard thought I was dirty. I had always known. After the first time we were together, he spent the entire night throwing up in the bathroom. I had curled up in bed, pretending to be asleep. Maybe that was when he started to hate our relationship. Or maybe it was even earlier. A dull ache throbbed in my chest. I swallowed a sleeping pill, praying for a quick, dreamless sleep. 5 The company hired a new intern. Her name was Jasmine. One minute she was passing out snacks, the next she was recommending movies. In a single morning, she was friends with everyone. A colleague whispered to me, “Youth is a wonderful thing. She’s so bubbly and cute.” I said nothing, turning my attention back to the proposal for that evening’s client meeting. The last thing I expected was for my boss to assign an intern to shadow me. Before we left, Jasmine asked me to wait a moment. She reappeared in a white slip dress. “Sorry, Chloe,” she said with a little pout. “I spilled something on my clothes. Good thing I had a spare dress in my bag.” She stuck out her tongue and gave me a harmless little smile. At the dinner table, she was a whirlwind of activity, pouring drink after drink for the client, a man named Mr. Henderson, flattering him endlessly about how young and successful he was. She knew nothing about the project and didn’t mention it once. Mr. Henderson, an old acquaintance, shot me a confused look. I kept my eyes down, picking at the food on my plate. It was actually fine. At least someone else was doing the drinking for a change. I just wondered if Bernard would think his precious Jasmine was being materialistic now. She drank too much. While we were waiting for a car outside the restaurant, she swayed and leaned heavily against me. “Don’t worry, Chloe,” she slurred. “My boyfriend is coming to get me.” “He’s a really famous painter. One of his paintings sells for a thousand dollars.” “If he sells… like, eight or ten a month, I won’t have to work at all.” She tried to count on her fingers, then giggled foolishly. She leaned in closer, her voice a conspiratorial whisper in my ear. “You know, he had a girlfriend for seven years. Well, ex-girlfriend now.” “I heard she was a total doormat. So I suggested he ‘give her away’ like an old piece of furniture. Funny, right?” “The post even went viral. I’ll share it with you when I get home.” Seeing my blank expression, she smiled, her voice dropping lower. “I know it was you, Chloe.” “You two had a rough night last night, huh? Your dark circles are terrible.” “A woman hits thirty, she starts to age fast…” She moved closer and closer. I frowned and took a step back. Jasmine lost her balance and tumbled to the ground. “Jasmine!” It was Bernard. He was wearing his white suit, jogging over to help her up. He looked up at me, his eyes blazing with fury. “Ruining the painting wasn’t enough? Now you have to go after her personally?” “Chloe, I never realized you were so vile.” Without thinking, I nodded. “That’s right. The sight of you two makes me sick. Get out of my life, or I’ll make yours a living hell every chance I get.” “You paint a few pictures and think you’re some great artist? Calling yourselves soulmates, kindred spirits? Let’s call it what it is: one of you is a cheater, and the other is a home-wrecker who knew exactly what she was doing.” His face went slack with shock. “What did you say?” I laughed. “I’m not repeating myself. You can figure it out.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but Jasmine tugged on his sleeve. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her lip trembling pitifully. “I feel so sick,” she whimpered. “I drank so much tonight.” “It was my first time drinking like this. But what could I do? I’m just an intern… and I ran into your ex-girlfriend.” Bernard’s expression softened into one of pure tenderness. He kissed her forehead, then glared back at me, his face instantly hardening. “Chloe. Apologize to Jasmine.” I felt like I had just heard the world’s most absurd joke. I turned to leave, but his hand shot out and clamped down on my wrist. The force was crushing, as if he meant to shatter the bone. Pain shot up my arm, and I sucked in a sharp breath. He repeated, his voice low and dangerous, “Apologize. To Jasmine.” 6 I didn’t say a word. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. My face was pale, and my whole body was trembling. He could break my arm, and I still wouldn’t apologize. I had done nothing wrong. Bernard’s brow furrowed, a strange emotion flickering in his eyes. Jasmine saw it, and a shadow passed over her face, gone in an instant. She blinked her watery eyes and said in a choked voice, “The painting is gone… I had to drink all that wine…” “Chloe, what will it take for you to be satisfied?” Two tears rolled down her cheeks. She sniffled, then seemed to make a decision. “Just hit me!” she cried. “If it will make you feel better, if you’ll just treat me normally at work, I’m willing to take a slap!” A surge of pure rage washed over me. My free hand started to lift, but it was caught in an iron grip. “Jasmine,” Bernard said, his voice as cold as ice. “You’re not the one who deserves to be hit.” “She is.” He pinned both of my arms. I watched, helpless, as Jasmine’s lips curved into a triumphant smirk. She raised her hand. A sharp, stinging slap landed across my face. The burning pain spread from my skin straight to my heart. In that instant, a thousand memories flashed through my mind. For the first time, I asked myself: Why did I save him? Why did I let him drag me to this point? A broken laugh escaped me. “I regret it so much,” I rasped. A flicker of something—pity? regret?—crossed his face. It was quickly replaced by ice. “It’s too late for regrets now. You should have thought of the consequences when you ruined my painting, when you deliberately targeted Jasmine.” I shook my head. “No.” “I regret saving you.” His pupils constricted. His heart plummeted. He forced a smirk. “Well, you did.” He released my arms, waiting. He probably expected me to scream, to attack him, to have a complete breakdown. But I did none of those things. I didn’t even look at him. I simply turned and walked away, my back straight, my steps unwavering. A black Porsche Cayenne pulled up beside me. A handsome man got out and opened the passenger door. I got in. I never looked back. 7 An inexplicable panic began to coil in Bernard’s stomach. He tugged irritably at his collar, wrinkling his already rumpled shirt. For once, he didn’t seem to care about his appearance. He raised a hand to rub his temples. Then he froze. That was Chloe’s habit. A small gesture she made when she was exhausted after working late into the night. “Wow, calling a cab and a Cayenne shows up,” Jasmine said bitterly beside him. “Some people have all the luck.” The thought was broken. He dropped his hand and muttered, “A cab?” “What else? Where would she meet a rich, handsome guy? He’s probably just killing time with her.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Didn’t you drive here today?” she asked, looking around. He blinked. The car he had driven to pick her up in belonged to Chloe. It seemed Jasmine had misunderstood. He was about to explain, but then he saw the slight frown on her face. For some reason, he chose to lie. “It’s in the shop. Let’s just walk.” He could just sell one of his old paintings and buy a car. It wasn’t a big deal.

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After ten years in hiding, I finally emerged, only to find the story had ended long ago. This post-apocalyptic novel was in its final chapters. The hero, Quaid Cole, had established a small-scale human sanctuary, and civilization was beginning the slow, arduous process of rebuilding itself. But none of that good fortune was for me. On my first day in this world, I made a shocking discovery: I was a pet jellyfish Quaid kept in a tank. That’s right. No eyes, just a basic light-sensing system. Even my thoughts felt flattened, simplified. But I never forgot my keeper. He would feed me the most delicious little shrimp. He would mix the saltwater to the perfect, most comfortable salinity. He would gently poke my bell and tentacles with his finger. Then one day, he just… never came back. And I… missed him. Damn it. A human had me completely wrapped around his little finger. 01 When the apocalypse hit, every plant and animal on Earth underwent some form of mutation. Monstrous tsunamis and famine followed, swallowing eighty percent of the world’s landmass. I knew none of this. All I knew was that one day, my tank suddenly became infinitely larger, big enough for me to roam the entire house. At first, everything was a blur. Gradually, the shapes of furniture began to resolve. Straining my mind to access my past life’s intellect, I determined this was the home of a single man. Before the end, it must have been a beautiful place. But now, the vast picture windows were shattered, and wooden furniture drifted bizarrely beneath the ceiling, along with a collection of medals, creating a strange, submerged wonderland. During my explorations, I found a photograph, laminated and preserved. It showed a handsome man with a sharp buzz cut. His white lab coat was flung open with an air of defiance, and he wore a pair of strange-looking goggles, his brow furrowed as he stared into the camera. …He looked so kind. He must be a good person. Yup. I gently touched the photo with a small tentacle, and my body began to glow faintly. I had to find him. A keeper who abandons his pet is no good. Besides, I was so, so hungry. If I could just find him, I was sure I could eat all the shrimp I wanted. 02 The first time I tried to leave, I swam headfirst into a piece of furniture and nearly bruised my bell. The world outside was far too dangerous for a little jellyfish. It took I don’t know how long, but I focused all my energy on transforming myself into my previous human form. A jellyfish is mostly water, a boneless, floating creature. By constantly absorbing the water around me, I slowly managed to create a shimmering, translucent human shape. The massive expenditure of energy left me even hungrier. Dizzy with hunger, I pushed aside the overgrown algae and barnacles and “swam” out through the shattered picture window. Before me lay a resplendent, silent, underwater city. Schools of fish darted through the skeletons of once-mighty skyscrapers, where clothes, gnawed down to threads, drifted like ghosts. I noticed that even the once-harmless fish were different now. Some had evolved to monstrous sizes, others had developed deadly venoms, their very colors screaming danger. No matter how glorious human civilization had once been, it was utterly fragile against the might of this new ocean. The moment I emerged from the house, a dark swarm of fish changed course, and the seaweed lunged toward me like grasping hands. 03 Back when Quaid was taking care of me, if the water temperature dropped by a single degree, I would droop my bell and play dead for him. Jellyfish are delicate creatures, after all. The slightest mistake, and it’s curtains. Now, the water was so cold it made me shiver. “Ooh, seaweed. I was just getting hungry,” I said, plucking a large handful and munching on it as I swam. “This fish probably doesn’t have many bones… let’s see…” I noticed some fish trying to bite me, but my body regenerated almost instantly. A jellyfish’s healing ability is formidable. “Doesn’t taste great, though… hiccup.” Grimacing, I ate everything edible in the vicinity before pulling out the photograph again. On the back was an address… It seemed to be where my keeper used to work. I clapped my hands and set off with a determined swagger. “Captain Cole, we’re detecting an anomalous magnetic field in Zone Z!” The man at the screen had a grim expression. “You need to see this. It’s coming from the Dead Zone, the area with the most severe marine mutations. We’ve lost personnel on every reconnaissance mission we’ve sent there…” But now, the glaring red on the screen had faded significantly, which usually indicated a drop in the danger level. Yet, no one in the observation room looked relieved. A deep, cold voice cut through the tension. “A new apex predator may have emerged. Once its mutation is complete, it will dominate all other life in its environment. We need to prepare.” Quaid Cole stared at the screen, his eyes darkening, his lashes casting a small shadow on his cheek. “Return to Base for now.” 04 My keeper’s workplace was also flooded. Not a soul in sight. I clutched my empty stomach, completely at a loss. Just then, a waterproof radio crackled to life: “Broadcast Number 27803… crackle… The year is now 30XX… To any humans still surviving on this planet… do not give up… crackle… please head east… this is the Base… we are still conducting search and rescue operations…” Yes! I clenched my fist. I’ll go to the Base and find him there. I grabbed a white lab coat and threw it on, completely oblivious to the fact that an invisible dead zone had formed around me, a space so empty that not even a single shrimp dared to swim near. On a desk, I found some documents in a sealed bag. The handwriting on one was sharp and powerful: How to Care for a Fussy, Spoiled, and Prideful Jellyfish 1. Change the water regularly. 2. Provide sufficient food. 3. Gentle touching. … Gentle? He poked my head like he was trying to pop a balloon. 05 I headed east for a long time, and the water seemed to be getting shallower. Along the way, I found a light blue shoulder bag and carefully filled it with beautiful conches, shells, pink coral flowers, and strangely shaped stones. They were a gift for my keeper when I found him. The last remnants of humanity had gathered on the final piece of land on Earth. Unsure if I could survive out of the water, I cautiously swam upward and extended a hand above the surface. No pain. So, I clambered ashore, dripping wet. My body had lost much of its translucence, but I felt clumsy, not as agile as I was in the water. With the human population so drastically reduced, I hadn’t encountered anyone on my journey. But not long after reaching land, I came across a small group. They were men and women, protectively guarding a fishing net full of food. When I asked for directions, they just stared at each other. “You want to go to the Base?” The man in the lead let out a sarcastic laugh. “Do you have any idea how dangerous the road is? And what makes you think the Base will just let you in? People are dying to get in there!” He was about to say more when the woman next to him nudged him discreetly. She turned to me with a warm smile. “Why don’t you come with us? We’re heading there too. It’s good to have company.” I nodded obediently. “Okay.” That night, by the campfire. Faint whispers carried from behind the trees: “You idiot! Didn’t you see she’s alone? To have survived this long and gotten this far, that bag of hers must be full of good stuff.” “Besides, a woman like that… you know how much gold she could fetch on the black market? We might even be able to buy a Base access card outright!” “Let’s just starve her until she’s weak, then sell her…” In the darkness, two pairs of greedy eyes watched the girl sleeping soundly. This area was a settlement that had sprung up around the Base. The Base provided some aid to all humans, like medicine and food, but not everyone could live inside. Only those who passed the Base’s assessment could become a member. The next morning, we set out for the Base without even eating breakfast. Along the way, the woman, who called herself Belle, chatted with me endlessly. “What are you going to the Base for? How did you get here?” I wanted to say I was looking for my keeper, but I was afraid of revealing I was a jellyfish. I wracked my brain and said, “I’m… I’m looking for my family. I swam here.” Belle scoffed internally. She can’t even lie properly. As if anyone could swim through that deadly stretch of ocean. What an idiot. “What’s in your bag? It looks heavy. I can carry it for you.” I patted my little bag proudly. “No, thank you! These are my treasures.” My keeper will be so happy when he sees all the pretty flowers and stones I found. “…” “By the way, sister, how old are you? Where do you usually hang out?” I blinked, asking my own curious questions. 06 We traveled for several days. Belle said that with food so scarce, they only ate one meal a day. I couldn’t stomach the compressed biscuits anyway, so every night, I would sneak off to a nearby stream to catch fish. The fish and crabs in these freshwater streams had also mutated; they were vicious, leaping out to bite my legs. I unfurled two of my tentacles and caught half a basketful, eating until my belly was round. So, while I followed them with boundless energy, Belle and her husband, who had started out at a brisk pace, were soon practically holding each other up just to keep walking. They had food with them. Why weren’t they eating it? Humans were so hard to understand. After three days of this, we finally reached a small town. The town was in ruins, the air thick with the smell of oil and gunpowder. People on the roadside watched us with unfriendly eyes. Belle’s husband said he needed to get his weapon serviced and left us. “You see how things are now. It’s not like the old world. Especially for us women… if we don’t find a safe place, who knows what could happen…” Belle said, taking my hand in a sisterly fashion. “You’re so young, it’s too dangerous for you to be wandering around alone. I have an idea. This town is great. There are a lot of powerful men here. If you could stay, you’d be rich and safe!” I looked at her, confused. “Huh? Isn’t this the Base?” “Silly girl, what’s so great about the Base?” She patted my head. “This is where everyone wants to be. You just sit here in the park and don’t wander off, okay? Wait for me to come back.” I watched her walk into a shop with a black sign. I thought about what she’d said and frowned. Belle was trying to be kind, I guess… but I didn’t want to stay in this town. 07 After some hard bargaining, Belle finally settled on a price. To her shock, when she returned excitedly to the park, I was surrounded by several heavily armed men. “This is her?” one of them grunted. Seeing Belle, I beamed and waved. “Sister, I found someone for you! You can stay in this rich and safe place now!” Belle froze, her jaw dropping. “This kind uncle heard a woman wanted to stay, so he came right over with me,” I explained to the men. “That’s her.” “You— I’m not—” Belle’s eyes widened in fury, but before she could scream, two men grabbed her arms, pinning them behind her back. Another clamped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, and there’s a brother, too. He wants to stay in town as well,” I added earnestly, seeing Belle’s tears of joy. “No need to thank me. You two took such good care of me on the road.” Belle was already dizzy from hunger. The sudden shock and rage were too much, and all the fight went out of her. “Right, I get it. We can always use more labor in town…” The uncle nodded. He was a very kind man. Earlier, when the shells and conches had spilled from my bag in the park, he’d seen me picking them up and had gone pale. When I told him about the brother and sister who wanted to find a rich and safe place to live, he had immediately pounded his chest and said to leave it to him. “Oh, and here’s your finder’s fee. Two pieces of gold. Fifty grams for the woman, ten for the man.” “Thank you, uncle,” I said with a sweet smile, tucking the two gold bars into my bag. Now I had money for the rest of the trip to the Base, and the brother and sister got to stay in town. What a wonderful day. When the Base finds out about this, they’ll think I’m the smartest, kindest little jellyfish in the world. They’ll definitely let me in. 08 I spent another half-day in town, stocking up on food and a few dresses. I considered buying a weapon, but I didn’t know how much farther I had to go and didn’t want to weigh my bag down. Now that I’d found other people, the way to the Base wasn’t hard to find. I fell in with a stream of survivors, all heading in the same direction. “You have to pass an assessment to get into the Base. I just hope I don’t get Captain Cole as my examiner…” someone prayed. “I heard he built the Base with his own two hands.” A heavy silence fell over the group. Everyone knew the chaos of the early days. The kind of person who could forge a sanctuary from that chaos was not a man of mercy, but a man of iron will. “I was only seven or eight when the world ended. My mom used to scare me with his name at night.” “Me too! She’d say if I didn’t go to sleep, she’d let him come and get me…” I trailed behind the group, shivering. I never imagined my former keeper, now Captain Cole, could be so terrifying. I pictured him with giant fangs, razor-sharp claws, and fierce, red eyes… Weighted down with worry, I finally arrived at the gates of the Base. It was imposing and fortified, its cold white walls reflecting in my eyes. Everyone surged forward to line up at the checkpoint. I hurried to the back of the line. But the guards who usually stood watch were gone. The iron gates were sealed tight. 09 Inside the Base, alarm bells were shrieking. The sound of running footsteps echoed through the halls. “SSS-level alert! SSS-level alert! Unknown high-intensity mutant approaching!” For days, their sensors had tracked a dangerous mutant lifeform on the move. It had traveled all the way from the Dead Zone and was now right on their doorstep. “Report! Sir… Captain Cole, we’ve checked the perimeter. There’s a group of survivors at the gate seeking entry… besides that, nothing unusual. I suspect one of them might be the high-intensity mutant, or perhaps has been parasitized by it. We still don’t know what this thing looks like…” Quaid calmly glanced at the monitor, his gaze lingering on the group of survivors. His eyes quickly found a girl in a white, floral-print dress. She stood out starkly among the grimy, armed crowd. Many in the line had also noticed her, their expressions growing wary. But the girl seemed oblivious, happily trying to clip a seashell into her hair like a barrette. A creature that fragile couldn’t survive in this world. He coolly looked away. “Captain Cole?” “Place them in the temporary shelter. I’ll conduct the assessment myself,” Quaid said, his voice low and firm. 10 I was trying to clip a blue shell into my hair when a young man with a friendly smile approached me. He was slender, with glasses that gave him a scholarly air. “Here, let me help you.” He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place him. “Thank you. What do you think is going on? Who do you think will assess us?” The man seemed thoughtful. “Could be Quaid Cole himself.” Just as he spoke, the iron gates began to slide open. We followed the guards into a wide, open space. As I looked around, a figure appeared on a high platform. A buzz cut, sharp features, and a scar I didn’t remember slicing through the tail of his eyebrow. He wore a uniform, and the brim of his black cap cast a shadow over his strong jawline. His presence alone silenced the crowd. I stood on my tiptoes, trying to get a better look, and pulled out my photograph to compare. Hmm. No fangs, no claws… that was my keeper, all right. “I am Quaid Cole. I will be your examiner.” 11 The man with the glasses saw my confusion and whispered, “Don’t be scared. After the apocalypse, many animals mutated, but so did some humans. The Base is looking for people who have awakened special abilities.” The next moment, Quaid announced the test: defeat a megalodon in the simulation training room. We entered the training room one by one, according to our place in line. Since I was last, it would be a long wait. My bag felt heavy. Remembering something, I scampered up the stairs. “What do you think you’re doing?” A guard blocked my path. “I need to talk to your captain…” “Let her through.” Finally, a chance to talk to my keeper! I was ecstatic. “I finally found you! I’ve been looking for you for so long.” Quaid stared at the girl before him. “What?” he said, his brow furrowing. “Do not attempt to fraternize with the examiner.” His voice was cold, and the girl seemed to freeze in place, too intimidated to come any closer. I hung my head and carefully took out the conches, shells, pink coral flowers, and colorful stones from my bag, placing them on the ground. “I’m not trying to fraternize. I found these in the ocean. They’re my treasures, and I wanted to give them to you.” As an afterthought, I tucked the photograph under one of the stones. Afraid he would scold me again, I didn’t dare say another word. I turned and bolted back down the stairs. Quaid stood there, stunned for a moment, his gaze fixed on the small pile of treasures. I couldn’t believe how mean he had become. He didn’t even apologize for not feeding me a single shrimp and just abandoning me. “Stop.” I ran faster. 12 Ignoring the voice behind me, I rejoined the line. Agonized screams periodically echoed from the simulation room. When the man with the glasses was the first to emerge, his lenses spattered with blood, a smile playing on his lips, I suddenly realized who he was. Liam. The main villain of this post-apocalyptic novel. I should have recognized him at first glance. But ten years as a jellyfish in a tank, with no one to talk to, nothing to read, no contact with other humans, had caused my language and memory skills to deteriorate. My human way of thinking had faded. By the end, I truly thought of myself as just a jellyfish with a few stray thoughts. Only after the apocalypse allowed me to leave the tank did I slowly begin to recover my “human” abilities. In this base-building novel, Liam was the ultimate antagonist. He had a legion of fanatical followers born from the chaos of the apocalypse and possessed powerful mutated abilities of his own. He was the secret commander, his true identity unknown to anyone. In the novel’s finale, he was betrayed by a subordinate and cast into the sea— Everyone thought he was dead. Liam sat down next to me. He glanced up at the platform, then took off his glasses to wipe them, a small smile on his face. “Don’t be afraid. I don’t know what your ability is, but the megalodon in there has a weakness.” What villain? This was a top student, sharing answers and looking out for his classmates! What a great guy. I looked at him with stars in my eyes. “Ahem,” he said, looking away uncomfortably. “Its mutated attack pattern has a flaw. Every 90 seconds, it has a moment of slight hesitation. You can either attack then, or… use that moment to trick it into attacking someone else.” Liam watched me diligently taking notes, his gaze drifting to my skinny arms and legs. “If you can’t do it, just forfeit. I’ll find a way to get you in.” One by one, the other candidates stumbled out, dazed and injured. Finally, it was my turn. After another short wait, I stepped into the simulation room. The room was filled with seawater. I jumped in gleefully. It had been so long since I’d been in the ocean. I instantly felt a current of power flow through me. It was wonderful. Then I saw my opponent… a palm-sized pufferfish?! Wait, what happened to the megalodon?! 13 I poked the little pufferfish. It puffed up into an angry, spiky ball. I played with it for a bit, then swallowed it in two bites. Battle over in five minutes. I kind of wished it had been the megalodon. That would have been a proper meal. Why did the test change for me? And so, I passed the first assessment in last place. There were two assessments to get into the Base. Combat ability was one, and professional skill was the other. If you had a specialized expertise, like a doctor or a mechanical engineer, you could also get in. The second assessment was to fill out a form with your specialty. Three hours later, a very sad little jellyfish handed in a blank sheet of paper. 14 “Captain Cole, why is this one blank?” a subordinate asked, flipping through the papers. Quaid said, “She’s honest. Unlike those who would lie just to get in.” “…” The subordinate paused. “Her combat score seems average, too. One-star difficulty. The strongest in this batch is the one with the glasses… Liam. He must be the dangerous mutant.” Quaid didn’t answer, his eyes scanning the combat recordings of each candidate. Suddenly, a series of bloodcurdling screams erupted from outside the training room!

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After my family’s company collapsed, my parents entrusted me to their sworn brother, then leaped from the Veridian Bridge before my eyes. From that day on, severe depression left me unable to sleep unless in the arms of the man I now called uncle. Years later, the woman he loved jumped from a rooftop because of me. He cast me out, screaming I should be dead. But when the flash flood came, he shielded me without hesitation, creating an air pocket that saved me. As he lay dying, he wiped a tear from my eye. “I’m the one who spoiled you,” he whispered. “If only I’d never brought you home.” His parents called me a monster who destroyed their son. I regretted everything. I knelt before a silent deity for what felt like eternity—praying for over thirty thousand days. I offered my soul, cursed myself to never reincarnate, all for one chance to do it over. When I opened my eyes, I was back on the day he discovered my secret. This time, I would bury my forbidden desires and ask only for his happiness. As for me… I had no complaints about life or death. 1 “Willow, you’re disgusting.” The voice, one I hadn’t heard in an eternity, pierced through the fog of my consciousness before my heart could even catch up. It hammered against my ribs, a wild, frantic drumbeat. I stared, transfixed, at the sight of him—Tom Croft, vibrant and alive, standing right before me. My eyes burned with tears. “Answer me!” He threw a white dress shirt at me, the fabric hitting my chest with a soft thud. His handsome face was flushed with a deep, angry red. At his feet, a wooden box lay open, its contents scattered: a collection of his personal effects that I had secretly hoarded. The evidence was undeniable. My feelings for him had long since crossed the line of a normal niece-uncle relationship. But in that moment, I felt no shame. Only a wave of relief so profound it brought me to my knees. I began to weep, deep, shuddering sobs that shook my entire body. From gray hair back to my youthful black, the thirty thousand days I spent in penance had finally been answered. I was reborn on the very day Tom first discovered my secret, forbidden love. The trembling was uncontrollable, the tears a flood I couldn’t stop. My reaction clearly threw him off. The fire in his eyes died down, replaced by a flicker of concern. He pointed a shaky finger at the box. “This… burn it all.” In my past life, those words had sent me into a hysterical frenzy. I had grabbed the front of his shirt, pulled him down, and kissed him. Tom had been utterly stunned. He had fled, and from that day on, a chasm of distance grew between us. But for me, that single, forbidden kiss had shattered all my restraints. My obsession intensified. My hatred for Serena, the woman who had captured his heart, festered into a poison that would eventually lead to tragedy for us all. So this time, I wiped my tears away with the back of my hand. I gathered the scattered items—a tie he’d worn, a pen he’d used, a single leather glove—and placed them back in the box one by one. I picked it up and walked toward the back garden. “Okay,” I said, my voice steady. “I’ll burn it.” At seventeen, my world had shattered. My family’s company went bankrupt. Hunted by creditors, my father took my mother and me to the Veridian Bridge. I remember the river churning violently below. He sat me on the railing, his usually kind eyes now bloodshot and wild. “Willow,” he pleaded, his voice breaking, “don’t blame your father.” I closed my eyes obediently, waiting for the hands that would push me into whatever came next. But in that final moment, he tore the jade pendant from his neck and pressed it into my hand. Then, he and my mother jumped. I sat there on the bridge for hours, a hollowed-out doll. Until Tom found me. He was only five years older than me, but he carried himself with a maturity far beyond his years. He was steady, capable, and he handled everything. He helped me liquidate the assets, settled the debts, and dealt with the legalities. After my parents’ funeral, I moved in with his family, but sleep became a stranger. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw my parents falling. Tom took me to therapists. He tried everything to coax a smile from me. He would stay up with me every night, a silent guardian watching over me until the sun rose. One stormy night, my depression consumed me. I tried to choke myself. Tom held me, his arms a vise, stroking my back and whispering reassurances even as I bit his arm, drawing blood. That night, I finally broke down, crying until I had nothing left. And that night, held safely in his arms, I slept. I was a teenager, lost and broken. I stood no chance against a man so brilliant, so gentle, so devoted to my well-being. I began to collect little pieces of him, treasures that made my heart race and my mind spin with impossible dreams. I willed myself to grow up faster, just so I could finally tell him how I felt. But I never got the chance. Before I could, the woman he loved, Serena, fell to her death. And I was the one to blame. Tom’s hatred was a physical force. He screamed at me to get out, his voice raw with grief. “Why wasn’t it you?” he had roared. “Why are you the one still alive?” But when the flash flood came, he still didn’t hesitate. He threw himself in front of me. My uncle was perfect in every way. The only problem was his love for me was that of family. Mine was a guilty, desperate thing. In my last life, when Tom’s mother heard of his death, her grief was an endless, desolate wail. His father had pointed a trembling finger at me, his face a mask of rage. “You’re a monster, Willow! A curse! Are you not satisfied until everyone who cares about you is dead?” I remembered Tom’s last words to me. “I’m the one who spoiled you.” “If only… if I’d never brought you home…” He regretted it. And so did I. Clutching the jade pendant my father had given me, I remembered him saying that if one prayed with a true heart, the shrine on Mount Crestfall would answer. I wanted to pray that in the next life, Tom would never meet me. But my sins were too great. I knelt before the deity for what felt like an eternity. My hair turned from black to white. As I drew my last breath, the jade pendant on my chest began to glow with a soft, warm light. I saw a divine presence. It spoke. “What has happened cannot be undone, but a new beginning is not impossible.” “You are the calamity in his fate. Unless you resolve it, all your efforts will be in vain.” “Whether you repeat the past or forge a new path, the choice lies in a single thought.” When I awoke, the jade pendant on my chest, now webbed with fine cracks, told me it wasn’t a dream. This time, I would not make the same mistakes. I would pay any price, as long as my uncle could live a long, happy life. The next morning, neither of us mentioned what had happened. The car ride to his company was filled with a suffocating silence. It wasn’t until we got out that Tom finally spoke. “You slapped Serena a few days ago. Go and apologize to her today.” His tone was stiff, as if he was bracing himself for another one of my tantrums. But I just nodded. “Okay.” Tom looked at me, a flash of surprise in his eyes, but he said nothing more. At the office, I went to find Serena as promised. I found her in the break room with Tom. Amid the rich aroma of coffee, they shared a look, a silent, sweet understanding passing between them. The next second, her eyes flickered toward me. She quickly hid her smile, using her hair to cover the still-faintly swollen side of her face. Tom instinctively moved to shield her. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice cool and distant, having already forgotten his morning command. It wasn’t his fault for being wary. I really was a monster. My possessiveness over him was pathological. He was handsome and kind, and he had no shortage of admirers. I had driven every single one of them away. Because he never stopped me, I had deluded myself into thinking it was because he had feelings for me, too. In my past life, I had… I had forced a moment between us, a violation of the trust he had in me. He fought it, yet in the haze of a moment I orchestrated, I deluded myself into thinking his body’s betrayal was a sign of his heart’s desire. I ignored the truth: it was nothing more than an uncontrollable physiological reaction. Serena was different. She was special to him. Even ten years after her death, Tom still hadn’t forgiven me. I swallowed the acidic jealousy rising in my throat and took a deep breath. I walked over to Serena and bowed deeply. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have hit you the other day. I shouldn’t have humiliated you in public. Can you… can you forgive me?” Serena glanced nervously at Tom. When he remained silent, she finally answered, “It’s… it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I forgive you.” I straightened up, and my eyes met Tom’s. They were swirling with an emotion I couldn’t decipher. In my past life, there was another reason I hated Serena. I had seen her more than once with Caden Pierce, Tom’s business arch-nemesis. Caden was a spoiled, arrogant playboy who loved nothing more than to sabotage Tom. I was convinced Serena was a corporate spy sent to break his heart, which was why I had targeted her so relentlessly. This time, whatever the truth was, I had to find out. I had to get the two people whose lives I’d ruined back on the right track. So I started following Serena around, telling her how guilty I felt, saying I wanted to be her friend. She was wary at first, but when she saw I was sincere, she slowly let her guard down. I started probing. “So… what do you think of my uncle?” A blush crept up her neck. “Mr. Croft… he’s very kind. He never loses his temper with his staff. He’s a good person.” It was true then. They were in love. Serena was a good match for him. She came from a poor background but had fought her way to the top, graduating from a prestigious university. She was the classic hardworking, resilient heroine. And Tom was handsome, successful, and kind—the perfect leading man. Anyone could see they were meant for each other. Even knowing this, my heart ached with a bitter jealousy. That night, for the first time in a long while, Tom knocked on my bedroom door. He didn’t come in. The last time he’d burst into my room was when he’d found my box of secrets. I spoke first. “I’m just looking at the company’s branch reports. There’s nothing else…” Since my rebirth, I could feel him pulling away. Even without the kiss, he couldn’t accept that the little girl he’d raised was in love with him. And even without the kiss, I couldn’t let him go. He cleared his throat. “Why haven’t you been coming home with me after work lately?” I was surprised he’d even noticed. Because I need to learn how to live without you. I quickly closed the application form for an overseas work transfer I’d been filling out and lied. “Serena and I have been getting along really well, so we’ve been leaving together. It gives us a chance to chat.” The lie felt flimsy even to me. Tom stared at me, his gaze so intense it made my skin crawl. “Am I interrupting something between you two?” I asked, my voice tight. He frowned and flicked my forehead. “What nonsense are you thinking? Of course not.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking agitated. “Forget it. It’s… it’s good for you to have friends.” One day, I was leaving work with Serena as usual. She had started to open up to me, and I felt I was getting closer to understanding the real reason she had jumped in our past life. Everyone, including Tom, thought I had pushed her. My track record didn’t help. But I hadn’t. I hadn’t even touched her. She had just cried and jumped. I suspected something was wrong at home. “Serena, if you’re ever in trouble, you have to tell me. Whatever it is, I can help you.” She froze, and her eyes welled up. She was in trouble. She was about to speak when a group of thugs appeared from a nearby alley. They were carrying steel pipes. I’d learned some self-defense as a kid and managed to hold my own. But Serena wasn’t so lucky. I saw a pipe swinging toward her head. Without thinking, I pushed her out of the way and took the blow myself. Then, everything went black. When I came to, my head and back were throbbing with a fiery pain. I was covered in dirt. But the scene before me made me forget everything. Serena was lying beside me, her clothes torn, her body exposed. “Serena? What happened?” My voice trembled. I scrambled for my phone, my only thought to call Tom. But the screen was shattered. It was dead. Suddenly, a bright light blinded me. I flinched, shielding my eyes. The sound of police sirens mixed with Tom’s enraged voice. A force shoved me backward, and my head cracked against a concrete step. “Willow, I really thought you had changed. But you were just waiting for the right moment to strike, weren’t you!” Tom’s eyes were blazing. I stared at him, my mind reeling. He had misunderstood. “Uncle, no, it wasn’t me—” He swept Serena up in his arms. “You’re holding a phone, and you’re still denying it? Delete those pictures right now! We’ll deal with this when we get home!” I watched his retreating back, tears blurring my vision. “It really… wasn’t me…” My strength gave out, and the world faded to black once more. I dreamt of my past life, of another time Tom had been this angry with me. The day Serena died. When the police took me in for questioning, he had slapped me. It was the first and only time. The sound had echoed in the sterile interrogation room. “How could you do something like this?” he had whispered, his voice hollow. “I’m so disappointed in you. I wish I had never taken you in.” His eyes had held a grief so profound it had become a terrifying calm. I couldn’t blame him. On the rooftop that day, it had been just me and Serena. No one would believe that a brilliant young woman with a bright future would just jump for no reason. But even then, even when he believed the worst of me, he hired the best lawyers. There were no cameras on the roof, no direct evidence I had pushed her. My fingerprints weren’t on her. But the possibility that I had goaded her into it remained. In the end, her death was ruled an accident. Tom paid her mother a huge settlement. But she still came to the company every day, screaming and crying. So he closed the company. He donated every last penny to charity as an act of penance and moved us back to our old hometown in the south. I had truly ruined him. Without me, his life would have been so brilliant. For Tom, the girl he had brought home, the niece he had raised, had killed the woman he loved. From that day on, nothing could ever be the same. I woke with a start. I was in my familiar bedroom. Tom was sitting by my bed, his face gaunt, dark circles under his eyes. When he saw I was awake, a light flickered in his eyes. He pulled me into a fierce hug. It turned out Serena had woken up before me. She had told him everything. I had saved her. The thugs had taken pictures of her and run off. Tom was trembling. He held me tight, his voice a choked whisper of apologies. “I’m sorry, Willow. I’m so sorry. It’s my fault. I misjudged you. I should have taken better care of you. I accused you without even knowing the facts. You should hit me…” His body shuddered against mine, his warmth seeping through my clothes. My own eyes began to burn. The dam of my pent-up grief and fear finally broke. I buried my face in his chest, my tears and snot soaking his shirt. “Uncle, it’s all my fault! If I hadn’t been so crazy in the past, you would have believed me!” I shook my head, desperate for him to understand. “I was wrong. I’ll never cause you trouble again! I won’t have those thoughts about you anymore. I’ll just be your niece. I’ll be good, I promise. We’ll always be family!” I felt his body go rigid. Then, his hand began to gently pat my back. We stayed like that for a long time, the chasm between us seeming to disappear. He finally pulled away and handed me a bowl of porridge from the bedside table. “Eat something.” He tied my hair back for me and handed me a jacket. “I’m going to go out and buy you your favorite strawberry cake to make it up to you. When I get back, I have something important to tell you.” I watched him go, a strange feeling settling over me. Something about him had changed. It was as if he had made a decision. But I waited for a long time, and he didn’t come back. Instead, I got a text from Serena. [Willow, please, I’m begging you. Meet me on the hotel rooftop.] [You have to come alone.] [Please…] I ran out of the house, my heart pounding with dread. Why was this happening again? The deity’s words echoed in my mind. What has happened cannot be undone. Could I really not change anything? Then what was the point of my rebirth? But this was different. The text she sent in my past life had been a taunt, luring me to a hotel where she claimed to be with Tom. This one was a plea. I felt the truth was within my grasp. On the rooftop, Serena was just as I remembered from my past life, her face streaked with tears. “Serena, what the hell are you doing?” Did she have to jump from this specific building? She looked at me and fell to her knees. “Willow, I can’t escape. The men who attacked us work for Caden Pierce. They took… so many photos and videos of me. There’s no way out.” Rage surged through me. “You knew who it was? Why didn’t you tell the police? You’re the victim!” “It’s no use, Willow!” she screamed, on the verge of a complete breakdown. “I tried to fight back! It’s no use! They’re threatening my mother, my brother, my little niece! Caden’s family is too powerful. He’s a monster. He’s been toying with us all along. He wants to destroy Tom, and he decided to use me to get to you!” “I’m so sorry. You and Mr. Croft were so good to me…” “Don’t come any closer. If you don’t touch me, they won’t find any evidence on my body. Tom cares about you so much. He’ll protect you. But if I don’t do what Caden says, my family will be killed. If I die… maybe it will bring enough attention to the situation.” “I’m just asking… after I’m gone… please look after my family. For the sake of our short friendship…” I didn’t let her finish. I lunged forward, grabbed her by the collar, and dragged her back from the ledge. My own voice was a roar I didn’t recognize. “Do you have any idea what your death will do to him? He’ll mourn you for the rest of his life!” I realized then that I was crying, my own face a mess of tears. Serena stared at me, stunned. At that moment, the jade pendant tucked inside my shirt slipped from its chain. It hit the concrete with a sharp crack and shattered into a dozen pieces. I stared at the fragments on the ground. And then, I understood. You are the calamity in his fate. If I was gone… he would be happy. So that was what it meant. I finally understood. “So, all that matters is that this causes a scene, right?” I turned and ran toward the edge of the roof. First, a weightless drift. Then, a violent plummet. I had chosen the abyss. And so, into the abyss I fell. A sickening thud, followed by a piercing scream, shattered the quiet of the evening. At the same time, a block away, Tom almost dropped the box he was holding. It was the last slice of strawberry cake. The bakery he’d planned to go to was closed. He’d had to search all over before finding this new one near the office. A commotion was growing on the street. “Someone’s dead!” “A woman jumped!” Tom turned toward the gathering crowd. He remembered the sudden, sharp pain that had lanced through his heart just moments before.

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I was secretly married to Liam Ashford, Hollywood’s golden boy, for five years. Our son, Leo, was just diagnosed with leukemia. And Liam, the A-list actor beloved by millions, is the only bone marrow match. But to protect the newest starlet hanging from his arm, he kicked us away. “His life,” he said, his voice like ice, “isn’t worth a single strand of her hair.” I wiped my tears, my hand trembling as I dialed a number I hadn’t touched in five years. “Mr. Ashford,” I said into the phone. “Would you be interested in meeting your only grandson?” 1 I spent the entire night in the hard plastic chair of the emergency room hallway, holding a feverish Leo in my arms. My phone’s screen lit up and dimmed, over and over, but the call to Liam went straight to voicemail every time. Leo was burning up in my lap, his small face flushed, his lips chapped and dry. He tugged weakly at my sleeve. “Mommy, am I going to die?” he whispered. “Is that why Daddy doesn’t want me anymore? Because I’m sick?” My heart felt like it was being squeezed in a giant fist, the pain so sharp I could barely breathe. All I could do was kiss his forehead again and again, murmuring lies. “No, baby, of course not. Daddy loves you so much. He’s just busy with work.” The next morning, Liam’s name was trending everywhere. The headline, splashed across TMZ and every gossip blog, was: #LiamAshford’sFranticNight, Rushes AvaBrooksToER. In the photo, he was clutching the industry’s new ‘It Girl,’ Ava Brooks, shielding her from the paparazzi flashbulbs. His brow was furrowed, his eyes filled with a raw panic and tenderness I had never, not once, seen him direct at me. The background of the photo was unmistakable. It was the entrance to the very hospital where I had just spent the night on the floor. So, he wasn’t busy. He just didn’t have time for us. In that single moment, my world shattered. My phone buzzed. A text from Liam. How’s Leo? Six short letters. I laughed until tears streamed down my face. I called him back. This time, he answered. Before I could speak, his voice cut through, sharp and impatient. “I’m in the middle of something. Make it quick.” In the background, I could hear Ava’s syrupy-sweet voice. “Liam, honey, the doctor said you need to rest. Let’s go home.” My fingers tightened around the phone, my knuckles turning white. “Liam,” I said, my voice flat. “Leo’s bone marrow results came back.” I paused, letting the silence hang in the air. “You’re the only match.” 2. A long, heavy silence stretched through the line. I could hear the slight hitch in his breathing. I swallowed my pride, my voice dropping to a near-beg. “Liam, I’m asking you, please. Save him. He’s your son.” A cold, humorless laugh. “Clara, what new trick is this? Using our son to chain me to you?” The blood in my veins turned to ice. “This isn’t a trick. The lab report is right here. I can send you a picture.” “Don’t bother,” he snapped, his voice dangerously low. “I don’t have time for this.” “Liam!” I cried out, my voice sharp enough to draw stares from the nurses down the hall. I lowered my voice, the tears I’d been holding back finally breaking free. “If you save Leo, I’ll give you anything you want. We can get a divorce immediately. I’ll walk away with nothing, I swear. You’ll never have to see me again.” “A divorce?” He scoffed. “You think I give a damn about that piece of paper? Have you forgotten how you crawled into my bed in the first place, Clara? How you used a pregnancy to force my hand?” That rainy night five years ago. He’d been blackout drunk. I was just his personal assistant, assigned to make sure he didn’t choke on his own vomit. Then came the positive test. The powerful Ashford family needed an heir. He needed a quiet, compliant wife to appease them. It was a transaction. We signed the papers, a secret agreement that benefited us both. I was naive enough to believe that five years could warm even the coldest stone. But I forgot. Liam Ashford’s heart wasn’t stone. It was an iceberg. “What’s wrong, Liam?” Ava’s voice drifted through the phone again, laced with the perfect amount of concern. “Is that Clara?” “It’s nothing,” Liam’s voice instantly softened, a gentle murmur reserved only for her. “Just an irrelevant person.” He hung up. I stood there, frozen, the dead phone clutched in my hand. In my arms, Leo stirred. “Mommy,” he whimpered. “I’m cold.” I snapped back to reality, pulling him tighter against my chest, trying to warm his small, trembling body with my own. 3. Liam showed up that afternoon. Trailing behind him was Ava Brooks, an expression of pure innocence painted on her face. He didn’t even glance at Leo, lying pale and small in the hospital bed. He walked straight to me and tossed a black credit card onto the thin blanket covering my lap. “There’s five million dollars on that,” he said, his voice devoid of any warmth. “It’s more than enough for you and the boy to live comfortably for the rest of your lives.” He looked at me, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. “Find another hospital. Wait for another donor.” “My marrow is not an option.” Ava stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Clara, please don’t be angry with Liam,” she said softly. “He’s… he’s about to start shooting a new action film. It’s incredibly demanding, and his doctors said he can’t risk any kind of physical strain.” She paused, her eyes flicking towards Leo with a look of pity that made my skin crawl. “We feel terrible for Leo, truly. But Liam’s entire career is on the line…” I stared at them, this perfectly rehearsed duo. The absurdity of it all was suffocating. His career? Was his career more important than my son’s life? Liam took off his sunglasses, his eyes cold and hard. “Don’t push your luck, Clara.” “He’s my son, but he’s yours, too!” My voice was rising, cracking with disbelief. “I’ve done my part. I’m giving you the money. That’s more than fair.” “If money could save him, I would get on my knees and beg you to take it!” The dam inside me finally broke, and I was screaming. “But you’re the only one who can save him! Liam, do you even have a heart?” “My heart?” He took a step closer, backing me towards the wall. “I think a dog ate it five years ago, right around the time you so cleverly trapped me.” He leaned in, his voice a venomous whisper meant only for me. “Besides… Ava’s delicate. She can’t handle stress. Leo’s life isn’t worth a single strand of her hair.” He straightened up, leaving me trembling, my vision swimming with black spots. I reached out, a last, desperate plea, and grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. “Liam…” He kicked out, his foot connecting with my side. I lost my balance, stumbling backward and crashing hard against the wall. The tote bag I was holding fell, spilling Leo’s medical charts and billing statements all over the floor. He wrapped a protective arm around a startled Ava and walked away without a second glance. “Liam, honey, should we really just leave her like that…?” Ava’s voice faded down the hall. “She’s a lunatic. Just ignore her.”

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Before my grandpa died—the man the whole town called crazy—he pressed three walnuts into my hand. On my twenty-fifth birthday, just like he’d told me to, I cracked open the first one. Inside was a slip of paper. 【Go to the overpass on the interstate. Give the first panhandler you see every dollar in your wallet, then ask for his forgiveness.】 My face burned with shame, but I did it. And the panhandler turned out to be an undercover cop. I only found out later that I was the next target for a ring of human traffickers. Asking for forgiveness, it turned out, saved my life. The second walnut, he said, was for the day I got married. Today, standing in my tailored suit, ready to marry the very cop who saved me, I broke it open, my heart overflowing. This time, the shell held a crumpled old photograph. In the photo, my fiancée is smiling as she strangles another groom. 1 In the photo, my fiancée, Maya, the woman I had loved for three years, was smiling. It was a brilliant, brutal smile, and her hands were wrapped tightly around the throat of another groom, choking the life out of him. The tuxedo that groom was wearing was identical to the one I had on right now. My mind went completely blank. The walnut shell slipped from my fingers and clattered on the polished floor. The door to the dressing room swung open. My best man, Ryan, grinned at me. “Leo! It’s time! Officer Evans is waiting for you out there. Let’s go, man!” I stared at him, then at my reflection in the mirror, a ghost in a white tux. My stomach churned. That photograph was a key, unlocking a memory I’d buried deep. My grandpa, on his deathbed, clutching my hand. His eyes were clouded with age, but his grip was like iron. “Leo, I’m no good anymore. Can’t protect you. You’ve got three great trials coming for you, son. Each one worse than the last. They’re gates to hell, and they’re all meant for you.” “These three walnuts,” he’d rasped, “they cost me half my remaining life to get. You remember, you hear me? You open them exactly when I told you.” I never had parents. My grandpa raised me, pulling me out of a dumpster and then pulling a life for us out of other people’s trash. Everyone in our small town said he was a lunatic, but I knew the truth: he was the only anchor I had in the world. I carved his words into my bones. On my twenty-fifth birthday, I opened the first walnut. 【Go to the overpass on the interstate. Give the first panhandler you see every dollar in your wallet, then ask for his forgiveness.】 The instruction was bizarre, humiliating. But I went. The panhandler under the bridge, filthy and reeking of stale beer, suddenly grabbed me after I’d mumbled my apology. He threw me to the ground, shielding my body with his. It was that single, violent motion that saved me from the steel hook that shot out from a windowless van careening past us. The next second, cops swarmed from every direction. The panhandler pulled out a badge, her voice a clear command. “Police! Don’t move!” That was her. That was Maya. It was a trafficking ring that used fake job interviews to lure male college students. I had been their next mark, a target they’d been watching for six months. If Maya hadn’t used her body to shield me, that hook would have snagged me, and I would have vanished from the face of the earth. At the trial, I was the star witness. The ringleader, a woman, was sentenced to death. Her husband sat in the gallery, his eyes drilling into me with pure, unadulterated venom. He screamed, his voice raw and grating. “Leo Carter! I’ll remember you!” Then he pointed a trembling finger at me, his face contorted. “You destroyed my family! Me and my daughter, we’ll never let you go! You’ll never know a moment of peace for the rest of your life!” His curse has been a cold snake coiled around my neck for three years. And Maya, for her heroism, was fast-tracked from a street cop to a detective in the city’s Major Crimes Division. Her future was dazzling. She wasn’t just my hero; she was the floodlight that chased out all the shadows. Our love story felt inevitable, written in the stars. But now, this photograph. This single, impossible photograph had just shattered my entire world. My hands trembling, I tore off the tuxedo jacket, pulled on the simple jeans and t-shirt I’d arrived in, and fled out the back door of the venue like a coward. I didn’t have the courage to confront her, to ask the question. The smile on her face in that picture was too real. So real it terrified me to my core. I left that city, erased my number, and deleted every contact I had. But I wasn’t without hope. My grandpa had left me one last walnut. As long as I had that, I knew I could survive. 2 In a small, quiet city in the South, I met Charlotte. She was the director of a well-known local art museum. Five years my senior, she had a kind of quiet grace, an elegance that felt both classic and comforting. She fell for me, she said, the moment she saw me, and pursued me with a gentle but relentless passion. The first time I went to her home, the chasm between our worlds hit me like a physical blow. She lived in a sprawling modern villa halfway up a mountain, and every painting on her walls was worth more than I could ever hope to make in a lifetime. Her family, especially her impeccably dressed brother, looked at me with a barely concealed disdain. “Charlotte, darling,” he’d said with a thin smile, “you have so many wonderful qualities, but your heart is just too soft. Always picking up strays.” Shame washed over me. I tried to end it. But on her way to my apartment to change my mind, Charlotte swerved to avoid a stray dog, and her car tumbled down an embankment. Outside the ICU, I wept until my insides felt raw and hollow. When they finally wheeled her out, still groggy from the anesthesia, she gripped my hand, her fingers surprisingly strong, and whispered my name over and over. “Leo, don’t leave… If you leave, what’s the point of any of this?” In that moment, my resolve crumbled. After that, her family stopped their objections. And under her incredible, tender care, I slowly began to heal from the shadows of my past. I felt a sense of peace and security I had never known. I even started to believe that this, right here, was the life my grandpa had truly wanted for me. I hesitated for a long time about that last walnut. On the night of our first anniversary, she booked out the most expensive restaurant in the city. She told me she wanted to be with me forever. She had a diamond ring ready, and she looked at me with expectant eyes, waiting for me to slide it onto her finger. At that moment, I felt like the luckiest man on earth. When I got home that night, I finally made my decision. In this moment of pure happiness, I would open the final walnut. I imagined a thousand possibilities. Maybe it would be a blessing. Maybe it would be a note telling me my trials were finally over. It was neither. Inside, there was only a slip of paper. The handwriting was a ragged scrawl, as if written with the last ounce of a person’s strength. 【SMASH EVERY MIRROR IN YOUR HOUSE!】 What the hell was that? I stood frozen. My home with Charlotte was less of a house and more of a private gallery. She had a passion for modern art pieces that incorporated reflective surfaces. There were at least a dozen mirrors, big and small, scattered throughout the rooms. Each one was a precious object she’d acquired from auctions all over the world. And he wanted me to smash them? For the first time, my grandpa’s instructions felt not just strange, but absurdly cruel. My phone rang. It was Charlotte, her warm voice flowing through the receiver. “Leo, are you asleep? I just landed. There’s an emergency art conference I have to be at. It’s out of state. I might be gone for three or four days.” “Oh, and I forgot to tell you,” she continued, “I got you an anniversary present. It’s behind the vanity mirror in our bedroom. Go take a look.” I hung up, my mind a chaotic mess. My grandpa’s warning and Charlotte’s gentle love were at war inside me. I walked to the massive, floor-to-ceiling vanity mirror in our bedroom. The man staring back at me was pale, his eyes wide with fear. For three years, Charlotte had cared for me, protected me, spoiled me to the point where I felt useless without her. My last relationship had been a minefield of terror and betrayal. It was Charlotte who had pulled me from that wreckage, who had given me this beautiful, crystalline life. How could I destroy the things she loved most because of one incomprehensible command? 3 A moment later, a text from Charlotte came through. 【Did you find it? Do you like it?】 Then another. 【Leo, why aren’t you answering?】 【Are you mad that I had to leave? I’m so sorry, baby. It’s my fault. I’ll finish up here as fast as I can and come right back to you.】 【Leo, believe me. No one in this world loves you more than I do.】 I read the messages, and shame burned in my gut. How could I even be doubting her? I took a deep breath, tossed the walnut shell and the note into the trash can, and decided to forget the whole thing. But as I turned to leave, a flicker of movement in the mirror caught my eye. In the reflection, behind me, stood a blurry, dark figure. I spun around. There was nothing there. A cold sweat instantly soaked through my shirt. My heart hammered against my ribs. Was I losing my mind? I forced myself to look back at the mirror. In the reflection, my own face was twisting, my lips pulling back into a grotesque, silent smile as it mouthed two words at me: Smash. It. A scream tore from my throat, and I stumbled backward, collapsing to the floor. No. This wasn’t a hallucination. My grandpa was never wrong. I scrambled to my feet, grabbed the chair from the vanity, and with every ounce of strength in my body, I swung it at the mirror. CRASH! The glass exploded, showering the room in a cascade of glittering shards. Behind the mirror, there was no gift. It was a two-way mirror. And behind the glass was a small, hidden room, no bigger than a closet. A man was tied to a chair, a gag stuffed in his mouth. His body was covered in blood, and he was long past breathing. His eyes were wide open, staring straight in my direction, his face a frozen mask of absolute terror. My legs gave out. I collapsed, bile rising in my throat as I threw up all over the expensive rug. I crawled out of the bedroom, my hands shaking so violently I could barely dial 911. The fear was a physical thing, a fist squeezing my heart, making it impossible to form a complete sentence. “Hello… 911… there’s been a murder… in my house… there’s a dead man…” The operator on the other end was calm, her voice a steady anchor as she talked me down and confirmed my address. Soon, the sound of sirens grew from a distant wail to a deafening roar outside. The first patrol car arrived, and the officers who came in turned pale when they saw the scene in the hidden room. They immediately secured the perimeter and called it in to the city desk. It wasn’t long before a team of detectives in dark, severe suits arrived. The person leading them was tall, with a commanding presence and a face that was as beautiful as it was cold. It was the nightmare I had been running from for three years. Maya. 4 When she saw me, her eyes flickered—a brief, violent tremor—but she quickly regained her professional composure. “Leo Carter?” I nodded, my lips trembling too hard to speak. To meet again like this, in a scene of such horror… I didn’t know what to feel. She must have hated me for running out on our wedding. A detective behind her draped a blanket over my shoulders and handed me a cup of hot water. “It’s okay,” he said gently. “We’re here now. You’re safe.” Just then, my best friend, Ryan, burst through the door, having heard the news. He rushed over and threw his arms around me, sobbing. “Leo! Are you okay? Man, you scared the hell out of me! What the hell happened here?” he cried, his words muffled against my shoulder. “I can’t get ahold of Charlotte. She loves you so much! How could something like this happen in your house?” I leaned into him, my body still shaking uncontrollably. Ryan was the only real friend I had in this city. He was a personal trainer—upbeat, optimistic, a ray of sunshine. He was the one who had been there for me during my darkest days, the one who encouraged me to give Charlotte a chance. I clung to his arm now like it was a lifeline. “Ryan, I’m so scared…” Maya’s gaze swept over us, finally settling on my face. Her tone was all business. “Leo, I need you to come down to the station with us and give a detailed statement.” “He’s the victim here! Why are you taking him anywhere?” Ryan immediately stepped in front of me, glaring at Maya. “It’s procedure,” she said, her expression unreadable. I was escorted to a cruiser, and Ryan insisted on coming with me. At the station, they put me in an interrogation room. Maya questioned me herself. “Tell me about the hidden room. And the dead man.” I told her everything. About my grandpa’s walnuts, about the bizarre message in the mirror. The stenographer sitting next to Maya paused, looking at me like I belonged in a psychiatric ward. Maya was silent for a long time, her fingers tapping a soft, rhythmic beat on the table. “So, you believe your dead grandfather guided you, from beyond the grave, to discover all this?” “I know how it sounds,” I pleaded, “but it’s the truth!” She didn’t respond, instead changing the subject. “And Charlotte? Where is she now?” “She said she was out of town for a conference.” “Which conference? Where, specifically?” I shook my head. I realized, with a sickening lurch, that I knew absolutely nothing about her travel plans. The interrogation was paused, and they moved me to a small break room. A few minutes later, Ryan came in with a container of food, his eyes red and puffy. “Leo, don’t worry. I’ve already called the best lawyer in the city. And I finally got through to Charlotte. She’s on her way back right now. She said she’ll handle everything.” He opened the container. It was from my favorite takeout place. He handed me a fork. “Here, you need to eat something. You haven’t eaten all day.” I had zero appetite, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I took the fork, but just as I was about to take a bite, Maya’s phone, sitting on a table nearby where she’d left it, buzzed. She glanced down at the screen, and her entire demeanor shifted. Her face hardened. She looked up, her eyes like daggers, aimed directly at Ryan. A second later, she sent a text message to my phone. The screen lit up. I read the words. 【The trafficker’s daughter had gender confirmation surgery in Thailand a year ago. New name: Ryan.】

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It all started with half a stale bagel. I split it with a little girl who looked even hungrier than I did, and ever since that day, I had a shadow. Two kids with no one else in the world. We were a fortress of two. When she was sixteen, some local thugs cornered Ava in an alley. I grabbed the first thing I could find—a loose brick—and took down four of them before their leader and his crew beat me so badly I spent two weeks staring at a ceiling, unable to move. Ava loved music. For her seventeenth birthday, I broke into a music store and stole a professional-grade keyboard. I wanted to see her face light up. Instead, I got handcuffs. I spent two weeks in a holding cell. When I got out, she was waiting for me, her eyes red and puffy. She made me promise I’d never do anything that stupid for her again. At nineteen, Ava got her acceptance letter to Juilliard. A life like that was never in the cards for me. I held that letter in my hand like it was a sacred text, and then I went out and got three jobs. I worked construction from dawn till dusk, washed dishes until my hands were raw, and hauled kegs on weekends. I sent every dime I made to her in New York City. By twenty-four, Ava was a rising star in the classical music world. We moved into a sleek, modern house she rented on the outskirts of the city. She turned twenty-six a few days after winning a major international piano competition. She was no longer just a rising star; she was a supernova. I’d been saving for months, working a side gig hauling cinder blocks on a construction site. I used the cash to buy her a new digital piano—nothing fancy, but it had weighted keys. I was going to set it up, play the one song I’d taught myself, and finally tell her how I felt. I waited all night for her to come home. She never did. The next morning, I saw it on a news alert. “Piano Virtuoso Ava Sloane and Harrison Croft, Heir to Musical Dynasty, Make It Official?” The photo showed Ava leaning into him, a man I recognized from the way she’d talk about him. Harrison Croft. Impeccable family, a world away from mine. The look in her eyes was one of pure, unguarded tenderness. It was a look I had never seen her give me. I sat down at the little digital piano. I pressed a key. It was unplugged. No sound came out at all. I knew, then. It was time for me to leave. 1 “Cole, are you serious? You’re really coming back?” “After all these years you and Ava scraped by… she’s finally made it. Why would you leave now?” “Is Ava coming with you?” Leo’s rapid-fire questions made me let out a dry, humorless laugh. I picked at a loose thread on my jeans, trying to keep my voice light. “Just me. Her career’s taking off. She needs to be in New York.” His voice on the other end was laced with concern. “Did something happen between you two?” How could I even begin to explain it? The bond between Ava and me, forged over fifteen years, had become like a pot of water left on the stove too long. It had boiled away, little by little, in a thousand tiny moments until there was nothing left but steam and a scorched bottom. It looked the same from a distance, but it was ruined. “There was never anything to happen,” I lied. “Aren’t you happy I’m coming home?” “Of course, man! You know I am. You’re my brother. The door’s always open.” After we hung up, I stared around the sterile, minimalist house we’d lived in for two years. A hollow ache spread through my chest. Fifteen years. We had woven ourselves into the fabric of each other’s lives. Cutting myself out now felt like tearing my own skin. I couldn’t just let go in an instant. I was an orphan, bouncing from one couch to another, surviving on handouts. People in our small town took pity on me, slipping me an extra slice of pizza or a few bucks. Then I met Ava. There’d been a gas leak in her apartment. She’d come home from school to find her building blackened and cordoned off, her parents gone. She had nothing. When she saw me, it was like she recognized a fellow stray. The hunger finally won, and she started following me from a distance. I felt a pang of pity. I broke the bagel I’d been given in half and gave her the larger piece. From that moment on, we were tethered together. I didn’t just raise her. I gave her a second life. When high school bullies held her head under the icy water of the local river, I was the one who dove in and pulled her out, breathing life back into her blue lips. A third life. And when Juilliard sent that acceptance letter, with a tuition bill that looked like a telephone number, I called in every favor I had, worked until I collapsed, and made sure she could go. I’ll never forget how she cried that day, clinging to me. “I’ll make this worth it, Cole,” she’d sobbed into my shoulder. “I promise.” And she did. She was brilliant, driven. She became a world-renowned pianist and brought me with her into this big, beautiful house. But the chasm between us grew with every success. She was a celebrated artist. I was a high-school dropout with a minor criminal record. The math just didn’t add up. Especially not after she met Harrison Croft. Someone who spoke her language. His name started punctuating our conversations. “Harrison has such a deep understanding of the phrasing. He hears the smallest details in my performance.” “Harrison and I are thinking of doing a duet concert. His violin with my piano… it would be sublime.” “He is so kind, Cole. The vintage piano at the studio was out of tune, and he fixed it himself. He’s even an expert at that.” A few days ago, she’d texted me. Her award celebration party was that night, and she was going with Harrison. Don’t wait up. Suddenly, I had to see him for myself. I had to see the man who was so effortlessly taking up residence in her heart. 2 Walking into Lincoln Center felt like stepping onto another planet. The air itself seemed to hum with elegance and quiet money. In my faded denim jacket, I was a smudge on a pristine canvas, a clown who had wandered into the king’s court. “Excuse me, sir. Are you here for Ms. Sloane’s rehearsal? Can I help you find your way?” The voice was smooth, cultured. The man in front of me wore a perfectly tailored suit, his smile warm and easy. It was the kind of smile that comes from a lifetime of never having to worry about a single thing. It was Harrison Croft. “I’m looking for Ava,” I said. “Could you point me in the right direction?” His smile tightened, just a fraction. “The pianist, Ava Sloane? I’m afraid I can’t let you in. She’s rehearsing. She can’t be disturbed.” Then, his eyes narrowed slightly. “Who are you to her?” I forced a smile of my own. “I’m her brother.” The word tasted like ash in my mouth. A dull pain throbbed behind my ribs. I never wanted to be just her brother, but standing in front of this man, I felt a chasm of inadequacy open up beneath my feet. Hearing the word “brother,” Harrison’s smile returned, warmer this time. “Oh, of course! Well, I was just heading to her practice room myself. You can come with me.” I followed him through the labyrinthine halls, feeling more out of place with every step. People greeted him by name, and he responded to each one with a polite nod and a charming word. We reached the rehearsal room just as Ava was stepping out. She saw me standing with Harrison and froze. A flicker of something—was it alarm? vigilance?—crossed her face. “Cole? What are you doing here? And with Harrison?” Her tone stung. Did she think I was here to cause trouble? That I might hurt him? My mouth opened, but the words I wanted to say—I wanted to see the man you’re choosing over me—lodged in my throat. What right did I have to say that? Sensing the tension, Harrison stepped in smoothly. “Now that your brother’s here, let me treat you both to dinner.” At the restaurant, I was a foreigner listening to a language I couldn’t comprehend. “The rubato in this sonata needs to be more delicate.” “You have to keep the left hand’s legato suppressed to bring out the melody.” I knew the words, but strung together they were gibberish. “It’s perfectly normal that you don’t understand,” Harrison said, not unkindly. “It’s all technical jargon. Ava is a master of it. It’s what we talk about most of the time.” He and Ava shared a look then, a small, knowing smile that was both intimate and exclusionary. They were inside a world with invisible walls, and I was on the outside looking in. I spent the rest of the meal in a fog of anxiety, pushing food around my plate, unable to contribute a single word. After dinner, Harrison suggested a walk around the theater grounds. I trailed behind them like a third wheel, an awkward shadow. I could hear the whispers of passing staff members, their voices low but their words clear as glass. “Ava Sloane and Harrison Croft look so perfect together. A piano prodigy and the heir of a musical family. It’s like a fairytale.” “They’re like a painting come to life. I ship them, hard.” “Ms. Sloane is usually so reserved, you know? But she just lights up around him.” “Who’s that guy with them? His clothes are so… worn. He totally ruins the picture. Doesn’t belong in their world.” I heard them. And I knew they were right. That night, I went online and bought a bus ticket home. It left in two days. 3 I purged the house of every trace of myself. Our first photo together. We never had money for pictures when we were kids, so we didn’t take one until we came to New York. In the photo, Ava was looking at me with an expression of complete, unwavering trust. The Ava of today was an icon, poised and distant, even with me. She saved her warmth for Harrison. I took a pair of scissors and cut the photo into tiny pieces, then let them fall into the trash. Everything else I owned fit into one suitcase. What I couldn’t take, I arranged for a junk removal service to pick up. The last thing left was the ring. The one I had bought to propose to her. It was useless now. But it was also worth money, so I took it to the jewelry store to see if I could return it. The clerk confirmed they could process the refund. I placed the small box on the glass counter. Just as I did, a cheerful voice sounded behind me. “Ava’s brother! What a coincidence!” I turned. It was Harrison, his face lit up with that same easy smile. “You like this place too?” I knew nothing about jewelry. I’d only come here because I’d heard women liked the brand. It had cost me nearly half of everything I’d saved over the years. Harrison pulled me over to another counter. “You’re just the person I need. Can you give me some advice? I’m getting Ava a Steinway grand, and I want to give her this when I officially ask her to be with me.” He grinned. “Don’t worry, you’ll have a seat of honor at the wedding.” My heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise. I numbly pointed to a classic, elegant ring, one I thought Ava might like, hoping only that after I was gone, she would find real happiness. “Excellent taste,” Harrison beamed. “I think she’ll love it.” We walked out of the store just as movers were loading a massive, gleaming black Steinway onto the back of a truck. Someone lost their grip. The massive instrument tilted, swaying precariously before crashing down onto Harrison, who had stepped forward to inspect it. I rushed over, helping the movers lift the crushing weight. Harrison’s face was pale with sweat, his jaw clenched in agony. I knelt beside him. “I’m calling 911. Just hang on.” I had just dialed the number when a sharp, stinging impact exploded against my cheek. “Cole! How could you?” It was Ava, breathless, her face a mask of fury. The first thing she did when she arrived was slap me. “I never thought you’d become this kind of person. Harrison is the most important partner in my life. No one is allowed to hurt him. Not even you!” In her eyes, it was simple. I had done this. I had hurt Harrison on purpose. He was in too much pain to speak. When the ambulance arrived, Ava helped him onto the gurney and climbed in beside him, never once looking back at me. I stood on the sidewalk, my hand pressed to my swelling cheek. The tears came, hot and silent, and I let the city wind dry them on my face.

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1 The day I married Addison Green, the false heiress—the woman who had lived my life for twenty years—took her own. Two years later, that single act had turned us into bitter enemies. He hated me, the real daughter whose return had driven Stella Grant to her death. I hated him for holding a torch for the woman who had stolen my identity. For a decade, we hurled the cruelest words at each other, wishing the other a miserable end. Until the earthquake. He threw himself over me without a second thought, his back taking the full force of the collapsing building, creating a pocket of survival just for me. The support beam fell, crushing bone and tearing flesh. As his life bled out, he whispered in my ear, “If I had known she would die, I would have never brought you home.” “And in the next life… I’ll be the only family you ever need.” In the end, I died in the aftershock anyway. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day he was supposed to introduce me to my birth parents. But this time, he stopped me. “Cindy,” he said, his voice strained. “I made a mistake. The daughter the Grant family lost twenty years ago… it wasn’t you.” … Addison blocked my path at the gates of the Grant family’s villa, his face a war of conflict and grim resolve. I said nothing, but the image of crumbling steel and concrete flashed before my eyes. His mangled back, and the words he’d breathed against my ear. “If I had known she would die, I would have never brought you home.” So, this was his choice. If he had a second chance, he would choose to abandon me from the very beginning. Fine. The last ten years of our marriage had been a living hell. He hated me, I resented him. We tortured each other day and night, finding release only in death. The chance to sever that future at its root felt… like a relief. I looked at him and gave a calm, simple nod. “Okay.” A flicker of shock crossed Addison’s face. The entire speech he’d prepared seemed to die on his lips. “What did you say?” he asked, the question almost reflexive. “I said, I understand,” I repeated. “If it was a mistake, then that’s that. Thanks for the ride, but I should get back to campus.” I turned to leave. His hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around my arm like a steel band. “Cindy!” he growled, a raw edge of panic in his voice. “What is this attitude? You’ve always wanted to find your family. I tell you it’s not them, and you just give up? Just like that?” I looked back at him, a flicker of amusement touching my lips. It was almost funny. He was lying through his teeth, all so I would just walk away. Now that I was doing exactly what he wanted, he was angry. “What else am I supposed to do?” I countered. “Addison, are you telling me you lied? That I actually am the Grants’ daughter?” The panic in his eyes intensified, his grip tightening unconsciously. He looked down, hiding his expression from me. “This is over. Don’t ever bring it up again, and don’t go near the Grant family.” “I understand.” I pulled my arm free and rubbed the red marks his fingers had left on my wrist. “I won’t bring it up, and I won’t go near them. Are you satisfied now, Addison?” He stared at my empty hand, a fleeting look of bewilderment on his face, as if he’d just lost something precious. He didn’t know that I had been reborn, too. This time, I wouldn’t walk through those gates. I wouldn’t become the Grants’ daughter. And I would never, ever become his wife. He wanted to protect his childhood sweetheart, to keep their perfect world intact. I would gladly hand it to him. “I’m leaving.” I didn’t look back at him again, just started walking toward the bus stop. His voice, laced with frustration, followed me. “Stop! I’ll drive you back.” Addison didn’t take me back to my dorm. He drove to a luxury high-rise apartment in the city center. I watched the streets blur past the window, a cold sense of recognition settling in my stomach. After we were married in our past life, this was our first home. It had held our happiest moments, and it had witnessed our slow, agonizing descent into a couple consumed by hatred. The car stopped. He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to me. In the dim light of the garage, his face was a mask of shadows, but his voice was softer now, the harsh edge from before gone. “Come on. We need to talk.” I followed him into the apartment. The familiar decor, all cool tones and minimalist design, was just like him: elegant and distant. Only this time, I felt none of the familiar flutter in my heart. He tossed me a bottle of water from the fridge and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows, lighting a cigarette. The pale smoke swirled around him, a hazy veil between us. “Cindy, I know you’re upset.” His voice was muffled by the smoke. “This whole situation with your family… I didn’t handle it well. But Stella’s health is fragile right now. She… she can’t handle any kind of shock.” Stella again. I lowered my gaze, twisting the cap off the bottle and taking a silent sip. The cold water did nothing to quell the bitterness rising in my throat. He’d said the same thing in our last life. He’d told me Stella was delicate, prone to depression, and that I should be considerate of her after I was welcomed into the family. I had listened. I gave up Addison’s affection to her. I swallowed my pride and stayed silent through every one of her tantrums and provocations. And for my troubles, she’d sentenced our marriage to a decade of misery with her suicide. My silence seemed to unnerve him. Thinking I was sulking over my lost family, he sighed and stubbed out his cigarette. He walked over and knelt in front of me, his gaze soft and pleading. “Don’t be angry with me, okay?” His voice was a low murmur, his large hand covering mine as I held the water bottle. “I admit, I messed up today. I got your hopes up for nothing.” “Tell me what you want as compensation. Anything. As long as it’s within my power, it’s yours.” He paused, his tone becoming earnest. “But the Grants… let’s just forget about them for now. Please?” He was humbling himself, his love for me practically spilling from his eyes. I could see it clearly. He was terrified that I would be angry, terrified that I would leave him. But that love was conditional. It required the sacrifice of my identity. I met his gaze, a bitter smile threatening to break through my composure. “There’s nothing I want.” I gently pulled my hand from his. The light in his eyes dimmed. “Don’t worry. Even if the Grant family showed up with their entire fortune and begged me to come back, I wouldn’t give them a second look.” “And you don’t need to apologize. You don’t owe me anything. Let’s just end this between us.” Addison’s brow snapped together. He shot to his feet, his face turning to ice. “End this? Cindy, are you trying to punish me? You’re playing hard to get because I wouldn’t let you join the Grant family?” He leaned over me, trapping me against the sofa, his presence overwhelming. “I told you not to go back to them. I never said I wanted to break up with you! We can be just like we were before. No, I’ll treat you even better than before!” I looked at him and felt a profound weariness wash over me. He thought he could just surgically remove the ‘heiress’ part of my identity, and we could go back to the way we were, blissfully in love. He didn’t understand. The root of the tragedy was never about whether I returned to the Grant family. “Addison,” I pushed him away, standing up to put some distance between us. “I’m tired. I want to go home.” This time, when I walked to the door, he didn’t stop me. In the days that followed, I threw myself into preparing my applications to study abroad. Soon, I had an offer from a university overseas, with a departure date set for next month. The day before I was scheduled to leave, two men in black suits blocked my path as I walked out of the library. “Miss Shaw, Mr. Green would like to see you.” I was forced into a car that sped through the city, finally stopping at the top floor of a skyscraper overlooking the river. “Mr. Green is busy. Please wait here.” A bodyguard escorted me into a glass-walled room, then left, locking the door behind him. The room had a spectacular view, with one entire wall made of glass. Across from it was the city’s most exclusive rooftop restaurant. Right now, the restaurant was alive with light and music. A lavish birthday party was in full swing. The guest of honor was Stella Grant. She stood in the center of the room in a stunning gown, surrounded by admirers. And the man standing beside her, the one gently placing a tiara on her head and gazing at her with undisguised affection, was Addison. I watched as Addison took Stella’s hand for the first dance. They spun and swayed, their bodies close, whispering to each other like a true couple in love. The guests applauded, their faces glowing with approval. A laugh escaped me, a bitter, hollow sound. How could I have been so foolish in my last life? I’d wasted my entire existence on a man who never truly loved me. Was it worth it? I closed my eyes, unable to bear the sight. But then, an image of Addison’s bloodied face from the earthquake, the memory of his trembling back as he shielded me, flooded my mind. He hated me, but he had also saved me. That debt was a net, trapping me, holding me motionless. I don’t know how much time passed, but the party eventually began to wind down. The door behind me clicked open. I turned. Stella stood there, a triumphant smile on her face as she walked toward me. “Cindy,” she said, stopping in front of me, her voice dripping with condescension. “How does it feel? Watching the man you love throw a party like this… for me.” It all clicked into place. The bodyguards weren’t Addison’s. They were hers. She wanted to crush any lingering hope I might have had. But she didn’t need to. In this life, I wanted nothing to do with him. I remained silent, my gaze cold. My lack of reaction seemed to infuriate her. The smile on her face twisted into a snarl. “You think you’re so high and mighty, don’t you? Let me tell you something. You will never have what isn’t yours!” She leaned in close, her voice a venomous whisper. “Did you know? If you hadn’t shown up, Addison and I would be engaged by now! You ruined everything!” “Are you finished?” I asked, my voice flat. “If you are, please let me leave.” My indifference made her tremble with rage. She suddenly pulled a small, sharp knife from her clutch, its blade glinting in the light. My heart seized. “What are you doing?” “What am I doing?” Stella laughed, a crazed light in her eyes. “I’m going to show Addison what you’ve driven me to! I’m going to make him see that as long as you exist, I will never know a moment of peace!” Before I could react, she raised the knife and dragged it across her own wrist. She looked at me, a twisted smile on her face, and then she screamed. “Please, just leave me alone! I’ll give you anything, why are you trying to kill me?!” The sound of frantic footsteps echoed from outside. Addison burst in first, pulling Stella into his arms, his face a mask of fury. Stella leaned weakly against him, a picture of fragile innocence, and pointed a trembling finger at me. “Addison, she said she’s the real Grant daughter… She said I don’t deserve any of this… She told me I should just die…” Addison’s head snapped up. His eyes, when they met mine, were blazing with a terrifying rage. “Cindy,” he said, his voice deadly calm. “Didn’t I warn you to behave?” “Today is Stella’s birthday. It was supposed to be her happiest day, and you ruined it!” I stared at him, my heart sinking into a bottomless pit. He had forgotten. Today was my birthday, too. We were born on the same day, in the same month, of the same year. One of us was destined for the heavens, the other for the mud. He summoned the bodyguards, who seized my arms. He threw a military-grade combat knife onto the floor in front of me. His next words were utterly merciless. “For every drop of blood she lost, you’ll pay it back double.” I stared at him in disbelief. “Addison, are you insane?!” I began to struggle violently, but he just gave his men a curt nod. A searing pain shot through my arm as the blade cut deep. Warm blood gushed from the wound. I gasped, tears springing to my eyes. A second cut, then a third… I lost count of the wounds. The pain became a dull, throbbing numbness, and the world began to blur. I looked at Addison’s cold, indifferent face, at the triumphant smirk playing on Stella’s lips as she lay in his arms. My heart, which had endured so much, finally shattered. “A few more should do it…” Addison finally said, stopping the bodyguard. “Take her to the hospital when you’re done.” Without another glance at me, he swept Stella into his arms and walked out. I lay in a pool of my own blood, my consciousness fading. Just before everything went black, I thought I saw the earthquake again. This time, Addison didn’t shield me. He just stood off to the side, his expression blank, and watched as the rubble consumed me. Addison, the life you saved is yours again. We’re even now. When I woke up, the sterile smell of antiseptic filled my nostrils. Addison was sitting by my bed. When he saw my eyes open, his own lit up. “I’m sorry,” he said suddenly. I stared at him, stunned. “Last night… I was too harsh.” He looked down, his voice thick with remorse. “I was so angry, I lost control. I…” “So?” I cut him off, my voice even. “Are you saying you regret it?” He looked up sharply, his lips parting as if to speak, but the words died in a sigh. “Cindy, don’t talk to me like that.” His voice softened. “I know you hate me, but Stella… she almost died.” “Addison,” I said, meeting his eyes. “You don’t need to apologize. Just consider us even.” “Even?” He frowned, not understanding. “Yes.” I managed a bitter smile. “In our last life, you saved me in the earthquake. In this one, I’ve given you a life back. We don’t owe each other anything anymore.” With a loud crash, the chair he was sitting on toppled over as he shot to his feet. His lips trembled, his pupils dilating in shock. “You… you were reborn, too?”

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After giving birth to the Celestial Lord’s twin dragon eggs, I faked my death and fled with one of them. Three hundred years later, I had to run an errand. I gave my young son, who had just taken human form, a stern warning. “My dearest, you be a good boy and wait for Mommy at home. I’ll be right back.” He nodded obediently. The moment my back was turned, he secretly followed me to the mortal realm. When I found him, I had no choice but to bring him along. Until one day, as I was leading him home by the hand, a figure barrelled toward the entrance of our valley. “Mommy! What took you so long? I’ve been waiting for a whole month!” I froze. My son was at home? Then who was I holding hands with? 1. Truthfully, I’d noticed something was off with Kai about two weeks ago. He was the undisputed little demon king of Silvermist Valley. Everything from the mountain spirits to the birds and bugs had suffered his “tyranny” at one point or another. But on this trip to the mortal realm, he was being… unnervingly well-behaved. He’d even mastered the aura-concealing art I’d spent half a month trying to teach him. “Oh, my boy, if you’d told me you were this good at hiding your presence, I would’ve brought you out ages ago!” I exclaimed, overjoyed. I cupped his face in my hands, squishing his cheeks. Normally, he’d squawk, “Mom, stop squishing my face!” But this time, he just let me maul him, his face flushing red, his eyes wide and bright. Strange. Very strange. But I didn’t suspect a thing. I just figured my lessons had finally sunk in. And so, we spent a wonderfully “harmonious” month together in the mortal realm. 2. It wasn’t until now, staring at the two identical “Kais” in front of me, that I realized I might have made a tiny mistake. “Mommy! Who is he?!” The real Kai was far less composed than I was. He looked at my hand, still holding the other boy’s, his expression one of utter betrayal. “When… when did you give me a little brother?!” “…” Seeing his dramatic flair, the over-the-top gestures and expressions, I knew instantly. Yup. This one was mine. “Don’t be ridiculous! I was gone for a month. How could I possibly have a brother this big for you!” I gave him a light bonk on the head. Kai yelped in pain but didn’t back down. “Then why does he look exactly like me?” Well… I didn’t know the answer to that. At first, I’d thought he might be a spirit who had taken on Kai’s form. But thinking back, very few beings outside our valley had ever seen my son’s true face. What kind of spirit would possess such powerful magic that they could even fool me? I was baffled. But after a month together, I knew this boy meant no harm. I cleared my throat. “Young friend, is there a reason you’ve taken on my son’s appearance to follow me?” The “fake” Kai, who I now called “young friend,” was still reeling from the shock of seeing his double. Hearing my voice, he looked at me blankly. “I didn’t change my form. And… you were the one who called out to me first that day.” “…” A murderous glare shot at me from my other side. I gently pushed the real Kai’s face away, feeling a bit sheepish. 3. He was right. That day, I’d just left the valley and arrived in the mortal realm when I saw a child standing in front of a bun stall. He was the spitting image of Kai. My heart leaped into my throat, and I immediately ran over and grabbed him. “You little rascal! Didn’t you promise me you’d stay in the valley? Why did you follow me out here?” I was in the middle of a full-blown lecture and completely missed the look of confusion in his eyes. It was only after I finished scolding him that I heard a loud growl from his stomach. “Hungry? Wait here.” I went to the stall, bought two warm buns, and stuffed them into his hands. “Remember, don’t wander off. And hide your aura. This place is crawling with monsters that snatch children.” I chattered on, holding his hand tightly. The problem was, after he finished the buns, he never bothered to tell me I had the wrong kid. He just let me feed and care for him for a whole month. Thinking of it that way, I felt perfectly justified. The boy, on the other hand, knew he was in the wrong. He fidgeted with the corner of his shirt, head bowed. “I’m sorry. It was my fault.” “Is ‘sorry’ gonna cut it? You went and claimed my mommy as your own! Where’s your mommy, huh?!” Kai was not appeased. He stood with his hands on his hips, glaring at the other boy. The boy’s voice was a whisper. “I don’t have a mommy.” “…” Kai, who had been full of righteous fury just a moment ago, froze. His hands dropped to his sides. He shot me a look that screamed, Mom, I messed up, what do I do now? So, he was a poor, motherless child. That explained a lot. I sighed. For the moment, I forgot to wonder why this child was an exact copy of Kai. I chalked it up to the mysteries of the universe—if nature could create similar landscapes, why not similar faces? “If you’re not Kai, what’s your name?” He looked up, his eyes shining brightly. “Liam. My name is Liam!” Liam only told me his name. When I asked where he was from, he clammed up. I guessed he’d run away from home after a fight with his family. But what kind of kid runs away for a month without getting worried? With no other choice, I took Liam in temporarily, asking around to see if anyone had lost a child. 4. A few days passed. In that short time, Liam and Kai had forged a bond of profound friendship. Kai had always been a mischievous child, but I knew he was lonely. Why else would he constantly terrorize the spirits of the valley? Now that he had Liam, he had a partner… in terror. One day, I asked the twin-headed birds returning from their reconnaissance flight, “Any news? Did you find out whose child is missing?” “No, but…” one of them stammered. “But what?” “But there’s news from the Celestial Realm. One of the Lords’ young princes has gone missing. They’re sending out search parties.” It had been so long since I’d heard anything about the Celestial Realm. My heart skipped a beat. “Which Lord?” “Lord Kaelan of Mount Aerion.” “…” Damn it. I should have known. In this entire world, the only person who could look identical to Kai, besides a one-in-a-billion chance, was the other dragon egg I had given birth to. 5. I thought I would never see him again. To think… I’d just casually picked him up off the street. My other son. “Mommy!” As I was lost in thought, Kai came running over, holding Liam’s hand. I noticed his dirty little face and frowned in disgust. “Have you been rolling in the mud again?” But my complaints were just for show. I took out a handkerchief and began to gently wipe his face clean. As I did, I felt another pair of bright, expectant eyes on me. I looked down and saw Liam. “Mommy, can you wipe Liam’s face, too?” Kai piped up. I would have done it even if he hadn’t asked. I beckoned Liam over. As I cleaned his face, I took the opportunity to study him closely. He wasn’t exactly identical to Kai. Kai’s features resembled Kaelan’s, but Liam’s were more like mine. That explained it. I remembered feeling a little annoyed when Kai first hatched. Why does my child have to look like that heartbreaker? It turned out the one who looked like me was here all along. Still… I wondered how Kaelan had raised him. He was a walking iceberg himself, and now he’d raised Liam to be so serious and mature for his age. I felt a surge of anger and resentment. Just then, Liam spoke. “Thank you, Auntie Lyra. I wish my mommy was still here.” A wave of guilt washed over me. But before I could share in his sorrow, Kai slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t be sad! You don’t have a mommy, but I don’t have a daddy. So from now on, we’re brothers!” “Yeah!” Liam nodded vigorously. “…” I stared blankly at the two of them, who had just formed some kind of solemn pact. If I didn’t intervene, they looked like they were about to perform a blood oath right in front of me. “Alright, alright,” I said, quickly pulling Kai away. “Stop messing around, you little rascal. I have something to tell you.” Two pairs of identical, shining eyes stared up at me. Looking at their similar faces, my heart melted. But then I remembered what the birds had told me, and I had to push down my maternal softness and become serious. “Liam, I’ve found your family.” Liam’s face fell. He was probably wondering how I’d found out his identity so quickly, but after living with me for a while, he had some idea of my capabilities. Kai’s eyes went wide. “What? Does that mean Liam has to leave?” “Yes.” “No! I don’t want him to! Mommy, I can’t bear to be without Liam! I want to stay with him!” Before I could say anything else, Kai had grabbed Liam’s hand. Both of their eyes filled with tears, looking at me with the most pitiful expressions imaginable. My heart ached, but I had to face reality. If Kaelan found out I was hiding here with Kai, I might not be able to keep either of my children. “Kai, Liam’s family is looking for him. If he doesn’t go back, think how worried they’ll be.” I tried to reason with him gently. Kai wasn’t an unreasonable child, but he’d finally found a friend. The thought of being separated so soon was overwhelming. My resolve softened. I gave them some time to say their goodbyes. At the edge of the valley, Kai was still clinging to him. Liam, though more composed, had red-rimmed eyes. “Will you come visit me?” Kai asked. “Of course. I’ll come whenever I can.” The two children bid each other a reluctant farewell. 6. Once we left Silvermist Valley, I led Liam in the direction of Mount Aerion. “Liam.” “Hm?” The little boy, still lost in his sadness, looked up at me. Looking at his face, so much like Kai’s, a thousand emotions swirled within me. I knew when I left all those years ago that I would be failing one of my children. But it was the only way I could think of to protect us. “When you get back to Mount Aerion, don’t tell anyone you’ve seen me or Kai, okay?” “Why not?” “We’re just simple spirits from Silvermist Valley. If the great Lord Kaelan found out about us, it might cause… some trouble.” If I wasn’t mistaken, Liam had also snuck out on his own. Kaelan would surely question him when he returned. I didn’t want him discovering my existence, or Kai’s. Liam understood. He nodded silently. Then, remembering his promise to Kai, he looked at me, his dark eyes filled with a mixture of hope and fear. “Does that mean I can’t go play with Kai either?” It was as if my answer held the power to shatter him. I couldn’t bring myself to say the words, “It’s for the best.” 7. Before I could answer, we arrived at the borders of Mount Aerion. I gazed at the magnificent celestial palace, shrouded in auspicious clouds and echoing with the songs of divine birds. It hasn’t changed a bit, I thought to myself. “Alright, this is as far as I go.” Liam tried to hide the disappointment in his eyes. We had just landed, about to say our final goodbyes, when a deep, cold voice cut through the air from behind us. “Liam!” “Father?” Liam’s face was a mask of shock. He stood frozen, clearly not expecting to be caught by Kaelan himself at the very gates. He wasn’t the only one. From what I remembered, Kaelan was either cultivating his power or in seclusion. He rarely set foot outside his palace, earning him the title of the “Most Reclusive Lord” in the Celestial Realm. He hadn’t changed much, though. He still had that imposing, majestic, and cold aura. And that deceptively serene face, so ascetic and pure it made you want to corrupt it, even as it warned you to stay away. I must have been out of my mind back then to become the first to pluck that “high mountain flower.” The consequences, as everyone knew, were disastrous. 8. Liam watched numbly as Kaelan approached. Kaelan’s gaze fell upon his son. “Where have you been?” The question was light, but it carried a heavy weight of authority. Kaelan explained that Liam was supposed to be in a lesson with a venerable master that day. When the time came and he didn’t show, a search revealed he was missing. A missing prince was no small matter. They had turned the palace upside down, never imagining he would be bold enough to sneak off to the mortal realm. “You’ve gotten bold, haven’t you? Who taught you such behavior?” Liam lowered his head, unable to speak. Seeing him being scolded like that, a pang of sympathy shot through my heart. Was Kaelan always this strict with him? It didn’t seem right. He was usually fair and measured. Could it be because Liam looked like me? Was he taking out his old frustrations on our son? That bastard. I shouldn’t have left him a single egg! As I was fuming, a gentle, melodious female voice floated over. “The young prince has returned.” Hearing Kaelan’s voice left me cold, but hearing Fiora’s made my eyes narrow. Three hundred years, and it seemed her status had risen considerably. The number of attendants behind her had doubled from four to eight. She carried the air of someone in charge. Fiora glided forward gracefully. Perceptive as ever, she immediately sensed the tension between father and son. She turned to Liam, bending down to speak softly. “Your Highness, you caused the Lord Emperor a great deal of worry by sneaking away. He even skipped today’s celestial assembly just to look for you.” At her words, Liam looked up at Kaelan. “I’m sorry, Father. I was wrong.” Kaelan took a slow breath. “You are confined to five hours of sword practice.” “…Yes, Father.” An attendant led Liam away. Fiora turned back to Kaelan, her voice soft again. “My Lord, now that the young prince is back, you can rest easy.” Kaelan didn’t speak, but I could see the tension in his jaw relax slightly. That was my cue to leave. I tried to slip away unnoticed, but as I turned, a sharp, cold gaze landed on me. “Wait.” I froze. 9. I had assumed his attention was entirely on Liam. I was wrong. My feet felt nailed to the ground. “Who are you?” Kaelan’s voice was deep and commanding. Fiora’s eyes followed his, landing on me. A look of scrutiny entered her gaze as if she were only just now noticing my presence. Thankfully, I had concealed my aura and my true face before arriving. I had also been practicing diligently these past few hundred years. While I couldn’t compare to these celestial beings, I could at least avoid being instantly exposed. I bowed my head, deepening my voice. “This humble spirit is but an unnamed immortal grass from the lower realms.” Fiora asked, “Was it you who brought the young prince back?” “Yes.” She stared at me, her suspicion palpable. She was sharp. Fortunately, I had prepared my story. I explained how I had stumbled upon Liam, and finding no flaws in my tale, Fiora’s expression softened into one of slight arrogance. “In that case, we thank you. Do you realize you found the son of the great Lord Kaelan?” The same old condescending attitude. I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes, keeping a humble smile on my face. “This humble one is overwhelmed.” “You may go.” Those were the words I was waiting for. I started to back away, but the man who had been silent since stopping me finally spoke. “You said you were from which mountain?” I couldn’t give him the real name, so I invented one. After I answered, he fell silent again, making my heart pound. His gaze remained fixed on me. Fiora noticed. “My Lord, is something amiss?” “…No.” Kaelan finally looked away. I couldn’t be sure, but for a fleeting moment, I thought I saw a flicker of disappointment in his eyes as he lowered his gaze. “Thank you for today,” he said coolly. “I owe you a favor. Should you ever need my assistance, you may come and find me.” The words sounded familiar. He’d said something similar to me once. Back then, I didn’t realize it was just a polite formality and had eagerly taken him up on it. Looking back, I was so naive. “I wouldn’t dare,” I said, feigning awe. Kaelan said no more and turned to leave. Fiora followed, but not before casting one last, lingering glance in my direction.

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The day my wife Ginnifer—the legendary undercover cop—vowed to quit, she promised a new start at a country safe house. I believed our seven years of fear were finally over. But the remote ranch was an ambush. Vengeance struck brutally: my parents beaten to death, my five-year-old daughter struck with a shovel as she cried for her mother. We were thrown into a pit and buried alive. In the suffocating dark, with my dying phone, I called her. She was at a gala, celebrated as a hero beside the cartel kingpin’s son—the man she’d turned. “You used us as bait,” I choked out. Her voice was cold. “So what if I did? Alex’s father was a monster. Protecting him is my duty.” A champagne flute clinked. “You knew the risks. Now lie low—I have a celebration to return to.” 1 The line went dead. The last of the air was crushed from my lungs, and the darkness consumed me. I don’t know how long I was gone. When consciousness returned, I was a weightless, transparent specter, a ghost adrift on the currents of memory. I floated back to the home Ginnifer and I had shared. I saw her pulling up to the house, helping Alex out of the passenger side of her car. His arm was wrapped in a crisp white bandage. “Ginnifer,” he murmured, his voice a low thrum of feigned pain. “It hurts so much. Do you think it’ll heal properly? How will I be able to help you with your files… or go on missions with you?” Ginnifer squeezed his hand, her voice softer and more tender than I had ever heard it. “Don’t worry. It’s just a scratch. You just focus on resting. I’ll have Leo take care of you when he gets back. He’s good at that sort of thing.” I hovered in the entryway, watching as she knelt and slipped my house slippers onto Alex’s feet. A hollow ache emanated from where my heart used to be. This was our home. The home we’d built over seven years of a fractured, dangerous marriage. And now, she’d brought the son of my family’s murderer into it, intending for me to serve him like a butler. In the living room, she settled Alex on the sofa and went straight to my study. She pulled a debit card from my desk drawer and pressed it into his hand. “Leo’s been messing around with some online shop. Made a little money,” she said dismissively. “It’s not much, but take it. Buy yourself something nice.” Alex made a show of refusing. “I can’t, Ginnifer. This is Leo’s money.” Ginnifer’s brow furrowed with impatience. “What’s his is mine. Hell, he’s mine. What’s the big deal?” She forced the card into his hand, then picked up her phone, muttering in frustration. “I’ve called him a thousand times. Is he dead, or did he run off with someone?” She sighed dramatically. “I swear, what’s the point of having a husband? The second my gala is over, I have to come home and play nurse, and there isn’t even a hot meal waiting for me.” Alex let out a low, magnetic chuckle. “Don’t be mad at him, Ginnifer. He’s probably just sulking. You know, because you chose to protect me instead of going to his little ranch getaway.” The anger in Ginnifer’s face melted away. She sat beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. “You’re too kind, Alex. He’s not sulking. He’s being a child. When he gets back, I’m making him shut down that stupid online store and stay home to take care of you full-time.” She dialed my number again. The call went straight to voicemail. Her expression darkened. “So he’s hiding from me. Fine. Two can play at that game.” She found the number for my daughter’s preschool director and barked into the phone the second it was answered. “Put Daisy on the phone. Now.” The teacher’s polite, confused voice came through the speaker. “Mrs. Reed? I think you might be mistaken. Daisy hasn’t been to school in over two weeks. We couldn’t get in touch with Mr. Sterling, so we just assumed you’d all gone on vacation.” Ginnifer froze. “Two weeks?” “Yes. We haven’t seen her since the fifteenth of last month.” Ginnifer hung up, her face pale. The fifteenth. The day before she told me about the ranch. Alex wrapped his arms around her, his tone deceptively casual. “See, Ginnifer? Don’t worry. Leo’s just hiding her to get back at you. He knows how much you adore Daisy. He’s using your own daughter to make you beg.” The flicker of fear in Ginnifer’s eyes was instantly consumed by rage. “That useless bastard. He wouldn’t dare.” She found my best friend Mark’s number and lit into him the moment he picked up. “You tell Leo he has one hour to get his ass back here! If he doesn’t, I’ll find Daisy a new father so fast he’ll never see his daughter again for the rest of his life!” I trembled with a fury so immense it felt like it could tear my ghostly form apart. She was using our daughter to threaten me. Our Daisy. Her own flesh and blood. Daisy, who had cried for her mommy with her last breath. Daisy, who was so proud that her mother was a police officer, only to be left to die in a cold, dark pit. This monster wasn’t fit to be a mother. She wasn’t fit to be human. Mark’s voice exploded through the phone. “Are you out of your goddamn mind, Ginnifer?! Leo, Daisy, and his parents have been missing for over two weeks! We’ve been searching everywhere! How could you say something like that?!” Ginnifer just scoffed. “Don’t play these stupid games with me. If he’s not here in one hour, he can expect divorce papers.” She slammed the phone down, then turned to Alex, her voice instantly sweetening. “Come on. I’ll take you out for a real meal. I cancelled the after-party. Your health is more important.” Alex grinned, pulling her closer. “I knew you cared about me most, Ginnifer.” Watching them leave together, an unbearable tightness seized my chest. It wasn’t that she was too busy with work to come home. It was that I was never the one worth coming home for. No need for divorce papers, Ginnifer. You’ve been free for two weeks already. 2 Ginnifer and Alex settled into a private booth at an upscale steakhouse. As they sat down, her phone buzzed. Her eyes lit up, thinking it was me. The light died just as quickly when she saw the caller ID. She answered with an annoyed sigh. It was a rookie from her precinct, his voice frantic. “Captain Reed! We’ve got a scene out at the old dumping grounds west of the city. Four unidentified bodies in a shallow grave. One adult male, two older adults, one child. ME estimates time of death at least two weeks ago…” Ginnifer’s hand, holding a steak knife, paused mid-air. Her expression grew serious. “What are the details?” “They were buried, Captain. Decomposition is advanced, making visual ID impossible. The ME’s preliminary report says the victims were subjected to extreme violence before death. Multiple comminuted fractures on all three adults. The child… God, Captain, the kid can’t be more than five. The skull was crushed by a heavy, blunt object. It’s… it’s sevage.” A sharp, unpleasant pang shot through Ginnifer’s chest. A five-year-old child… a crushed skull… Her fingers tightened on the silverware. Alex immediately covered her hand with his, his face a mask of concern. “Ginnifer? What is it? A case?” She looked into his worried eyes, and her features softened instantly. She spoke into the phone, her voice now a low, professional command. “I understand. Have the forensics team sweep the site thoroughly. Report any findings to me immediately.” She ended the call. In the dim, intimate lighting of the booth, Alex devoured his steak, his eyes never leaving Ginnifer. “You were so serious just now, Ginnifer. So powerful. I feel so safe when I’m with you.” His flattery soothed her, but a sliver of unease remained. A family of four, slaughtered, a child tortured… Even for a seasoned homicide detective like her, the brutality was shocking. Worse, there was a chilling familiarity to the MO. It was the signature of vengeful cartel enforcers. Suddenly, Alex let out a pained groan. “Ah… Ginnifer, I feel dizzy…” Her thoughts snapped back to him. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” “I think… maybe it’s the blood loss from my arm. The room is spinning…” He slumped against her, his voice weak and pleading. Ginnifer immediately helped him up, grabbing her coat. The mass grave, the slaughtered family—all of it vanished from her mind. Nothing was more important than the man in her arms, the man who had “risked everything for her.” Her phone buzzed again. A call from the precinct. Without a second thought, she silenced it. “Do you need to go to the hospital?” she asked softly. Alex shook his head, leaning into her more heavily. “No. Just… take me home. Stay with me.” … Meanwhile, the lights of the city morgue burned bright. Harris, a young forensic intern, fought back a wave of nausea as he examined the body of the adult male. The bones in the victim’s hands were almost completely shattered, but on his ring finger, a simple wedding band remained. It glinted under the harsh examination lamp. Acting on instinct, Harris carefully worked the ring off with a pair of tweezers to get a closer look. Under the light, a tiny inscription on the inner band became visible: A.R. & L.S. Ginnifer Reed & Leo Sterling. The intern’s heart hammered against his ribs. He knew Captain Reed’s husband was named Leo. It couldn’t be. But professional duty compelled him. He dialed Ginnifer’s number immediately. The phone rang for a long time before someone picked up. But the voice that answered was not Ginnifer’s. It was a man’s, lazy and tinged with post-coital satisfaction. “Yeah? Who’s this?” Harris, new to the department, didn’t recognize Alex’s voice. “Hello? Is this Mr. Sterling? I need to speak with Captain Reed. I have an extremely urgent lead that I must report to her personally.” “Oh, she’s a little… occupied right now,” Alex chuckled, glancing at the silhouette of a woman showering in the bathroom. “She’s got her hands full. Whatever it is, just follow standard procedure. Don’t bother her with every little thing.” “But this is critical!” Harris insisted. “It might be personally related to the captain—” “I don’t care if it’s about the goddamn mayor,” Alex cut him off smoothly. “Your captain’s orders were clear. Don’t disturb her tonight, even if the sky is falling. Got it?” Before Harris could reply, Alex hung up. He then casually deleted the call from Ginnifer’s log and placed the phone back on the nightstand, a faint smirk playing on his lips. 3 Under Alex’s constant, cloying persuasion, Ginnifer actually took an extended leave of absence. This was once unthinkable. The department couldn’t function without her, she’d always said. Every second counted in the war on drugs; lives were on the line. In seven years, she had never missed a single minute of work for a family matter—not for my emergency surgery, not for our daughter’s late-night trips to the ER. But for Alex, she was willing to break all her own rules. I floated in the air, watching her clumsily tie on an apron I’d bought her, trying to follow a recipe to make soup for him. Every time her work phone rang, her voice was laced with irritation. “Didn’t I say my deputy is handling everything? Are you deaf? I’m on leave! Don’t call me unless the world is ending!” The irony was a physical pain. How I had yearned for her to be present like this, just for one day. I remembered Daisy’s second birthday. She had a raging fever, crying for her mommy. I called Ginnifer over and over, from midnight until dawn. When she finally answered, her voice was a whip crack of fury. “Leo, can you for once try to be an adult? I am in the middle of an operation! Your constant calls could get me killed! If the child is sick, take her to a hospital! You knew I was busy when you married me! If you can’t handle one simple thing, what good are you?” Back then, I had believed her. I was consumed with guilt. Now, I saw only the pathetic, gullible fool I had been. After dinner, Alex lounged on the sofa, letting Ginnifer feed him pieces of fruit. He spoke as if the thought had just occurred to him. “Ginnifer, Leo still hasn’t come back… You don’t think… he ran off with another woman, do you?” Ginnifer’s face went rigid. “He wouldn’t dare! Who else would want a useless, spineless man like him?” Then, as if struck by a thought, she found my parents’ landline and dialed. It rang and rang, unanswered. She tried my father’s cell. Unanswered. “What the hell?” Ginnifer stood up, pacing the living room, a storm brewing in her eyes. That ominous feeling crept over her again. Alex came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Don’t worry, Ginnifer. Maybe his parents are mad at you too. Just ignoring your calls to make a point. Why don’t you just drive over there and ask them in person?” It seemed logical. She grabbed her car keys and stormed out. I followed her, watching her speed through the city toward my parents’ house. It was a place she rarely visited. My parents, knowing the sacrifices I made for our secret marriage, always treated her with overwhelming warmth. They would cook all her favorite dishes, fussing over her, terrified she might feel unwelcome. “Leo,” my mom used to say, “Ginnifer’s work is important. You have to be understanding. We’re here to help.” But now, the old apartment they had lived in for thirty years was dark and silent. The door was locked. Ginnifer pounded on the cold metal. “Mom! Dad! Open up! Leo! I know you’re in there! Open the damn door!” Her shouts echoed in the empty hallway, laced with a tremor she herself didn’t recognize. The next-door neighbor, Mrs. Gable, poked her head out. “Oh, Ginnifer, dear. Stop knocking. No one’s been home at the Sterlings’ for over two weeks! I thought I smelled something strange a few days ago, but no one answered. Figured they went on a long trip.” Ginnifer stumbled back, staring at the closed door, her eyes wide with a dawning horror. Over two weeks. There it was again. The bodies in the shallow grave. Her daughter’s school. And now, her in-laws. All the timelines were converging into a single, terrifying point. That chilling sense of familiarity seized her again. For the first time, she felt it—the terrifying realization that something had spun completely, irrevocably out of her control. 4 Ginnifer returned home, her face ashen. The moment Alex saw her, a flash of vindictive satisfaction crossed his face before he masked it with concern. He rushed to her, his voice a soothing balm. “Ginnifer, don’t work yourself up. I bet this is all just part of Leo’s plan to make you worry, to make you regret how you’ve treated him. He knows you have a soft heart.” “What do you know?!” she snapped, shoving him away. She collapsed onto the sofa, burying her face in her hands. “He’s hidden the baby and his parents. He won’t answer his phone. What the hell does he want from me?” An idea formed in Alex’s mind. He picked up his phone and showed her a photo. “Ginnifer, don’t be angry, but… I think I saw Leo a few days ago. He was with some woman at the mall… they looked very close. I didn’t want to upset you, so I didn’t say anything. I even took a picture.” It was a blurry, grainy photo, taken from a distance. You couldn’t even make out the faces, just the vague outlines of a man and a woman. But for Ginnifer, it was the final confirmation she needed. “That bastard! Leo! You son of a bitch!” she screamed, her body shaking with rage. “So that’s it! You’ve been crawling into some other woman’s bed!” She hurled her phone against the wall, where it shattered. “What is he trying to do?! Run away with our child, his parents, and his whore?! Does he think this will force my hand?!” “In his dreams! He can stay gone forever for all I care!” I almost laughed. Seven years of marriage, and this was the extent of her trust in me. A single sentence from a manipulative snake and one blurry photo were all it took to sentence me to death in her mind. Alex’s voice was a seductive poison. “Ginnifer, I might have an idea. If we can’t find him privately, why don’t we make it public?” She looked at him, her eyes wild. “The power of the media is immense,” he said, his expression earnest. “You’re a national hero. A hero who has just been betrayed and abandoned by her husband. If we file for divorce and leak the story, the whole city will be looking for him, condemning him. He can’t hide a child and two elderly people forever. The second he shows his face, you’ll have him.” Ginnifer was silent, her chest heaving. The suggestion was a perfect match for her own bruised ego. She could not stand being played, being made a fool of by a man she considered beneath her. She would show him who was in control. The last trace of doubt in her eyes vanished, replaced by cold resolve. “Fine. We’ll do it your way.” A week later, the city courthouse was swarmed with reporters. A legion of cameras was aimed at the entrance, a forest of lenses and microphones. It was the city’s first-ever live-streamed divorce trial of a public hero. Millions were watching online. The live chat was a river of vitriol directed at me. [THAT KIND OF TRASH HUSBAND SHOULD BE DRAWN AND QUARTERED!] [My heart breaks for our hero, Ginnifer. Stuck with such a thankless, cheating bastard.] [I heard he cleaned out their bank accounts and ran off with their kid and his mistress! Scum of the earth!] I floated above the courtroom, the vicious words feeling like phantom knives in my soul. Ginnifer sat at the plaintiff’s table. She had deliberately worn her dress uniform, the one from her award ceremony, her chest glittering with medals. She looked stoic, brave, and deeply wounded—the perfect image of a betrayed hero. The defendant’s chair was empty. My friend Mark sat beside it as my legal representative, his eyes red with fury. Alex sat in the front row of the gallery, labeled an “important witness,” a triumphant smirk playing on his lips. The judge’s gavel struck. The trial began. “Ms. Ginnifer Reed, you accuse your husband, Leo Sterling, of infidelity, malicious transfer of assets, and the concealment of family members. Are these charges correct?” Ginnifer took a deep breath and stood. Her voice, amplified by the microphone, filled the courtroom and flowed out across the internet. It was heavy with pain and a perfectly calibrated quiver of emotion. “Your Honor, Leo and I have been married for seven years. For most of that time, the nature of my work forced me to be away, to live a life of secrets. I know I was not the wife or mother I should have been. I had hoped that once my final mission was over, I could finally make it all up to him, to our family.” She paused, her eyes reddening. “But I never imagined… I never imagined he had already found someone else. He didn’t just take our life savings. He took his own elderly parents… and our five-year-old daughter.” Her voice broke. “I can’t find them. Your Honor, I am going out of my mind with worry.” She pressed a hand to her chest, tears streaming down her face. “I am not here today to condemn him. I am here to beg him—to beg all of you—to help me find him! If he would just come back, if he would just bring our daughter and his parents home, I would forgive everything! Because I love him… I can’t live without him…” The performance was masterful. The courtroom erupted in murmurs of sympathy. The live chat exploded with support for the heartbroken hero. Ginnifer, satisfied, sat back down, a predator waiting for her trap to spring. But in the next second, the large doors at the back of the courtroom burst open. Everyone turned. Several uniformed officers marched in, led by Ginnifer’s direct superior, Chief Miller of the City Police Department. His face was a granite mask. He ignored Ginnifer completely, walking straight to the judge’s bench. “Your Honor, regarding the disappearance of the defendant, Mr. Leo Sterling, the police have just obtained a piece of critical video evidence. I request permission to play it for the court.”

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