Category: English

My always-healthy husband swallowed pills and took his own life at home. My sister barged into the ribbon-cutting ceremony like a mad woman, dragging me away and telling me to hurry up and go see my husband one last time. I had the security escort her out and then calmly release the balloons in my hand to celebrate the opening of the new store. In my past life, when I heard the news, I rushed home without even attending the ribbon-cutting ceremony, only to find my husband already covered with a white sheet, his body lifeless. My father and sister brought out “evidence”, accusing me of domestic abuse, claiming I pushed my husband to death, and they sued me. With both witnesses and evidence, even though the court ruled that I was not guilty, the internet turned on me, and everyone believed that I had driven him to suicide. I became the poster child for “the evil woman” and, in the end, I was killed by a self-proclaimed “hero” with mental issues and stabbed to death in the middle of a busy street. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my husband took his own life. ***** “Andrea, Logan committed suicide at home. You need to come with me. Hurry. You might still make it to see him one last time,” my sister, Nora Bennett, said, pushing her way through the crowd to drag me to leave. I shook her off. “Can you not make a scene? We’re in the middle of a ceremony. Just behave for a minute, and I promise I’ll buy you that car you’ve been eyeing, okay?” Nora was panicked, her face pale with urgency. “I’m not lying! Logan really killed himself! You need to come with me now!” “Stop talking nonsense. I was just talking to him three hours ago. He was perfectly fine at home. There’s no way he would have committed suicide. Stop causing trouble. Security, get her out of here,” I snapped. The security guards, now with my permission, dragged Nora away despite her protests. I released the balloons in my hand to celebrate the store opening as well as my new lease on life. In my past life, on this exact day, I had been rushing around to get the new store’s opening ceremony ready. And just like now, Nora had barged in, telling me that my husband had taken his life and I needed to go home right away. I panicked, leaving the ceremony before it even started and rushing back. But when I got home, all I saw was my husband’s body, covered by a white sheet. I collapsed to the floor in tears, shouting at him for being so cruel, for leaving me behind alone. But Nora, who had just moments ago been comforting me, suddenly turned cold. She grabbed me, telling me to stop pretending, accusing me of acting. I stood frozen, unsure of what was happening. She said she’d seen the bruises on Logan more than once, and with tears, she explained that Logan had been depressed and that I should have just divorced him to set him free. The people around us, not knowing the truth, believed Nora’s words, calling me vicious and heartless. At that moment, my father showed up. I looked at him with hope, praying that he would defend me, that he would speak up for me. But instead, he looked at me with disappointment. “I told you a thousand times, treat Logan better. But you never listened. Every time something went wrong, you took it out on him. “I raised you not to compare yourself to others, but you were always eyeing your friends’ husbands, thinking Logan wasn’t good enough. You beat him every day, verbally and physically. “Now, Logan is dead because of you, and you’re crying like you lost a pet. What’s this, regret? Regret that you lost your punching bag?” His words were a tirade, and he painted me as a selfish, vain, and malicious woman. The crowd around us joined in the accusations. I couldn’t take the humiliation anymore, so I called the police to clear my name. But the investigation confirmed that Logan had indeed committed suicide. And they found a Twitter account on his backup phone, filled with years of notes detailing how I had abused him, how he had suffered in silence. Nora also produced a camera, claiming it was a package Logan had sent her before his death, asking her to show everyone my “true face”. The video was damning. It showed me from behind, violently attacking Logan. Forensic experts found signs of abuse and physical trauma all over Logan’s body. I was branded as a villain, an evil woman, and the online mob came after me. They sent me hateful messages, wishing for my death. A few days later, I was killed in the street by a self-righteous psychopath, who stabbed me repeatedly in broad daylight, with people cheering him on. The street was crowded, but no one tried to help me. Instead, they praised the killer, calling him a hero for “getting rid of scum”. I still didn’t understand why, in my past life, everything turned against me so quickly. Why did I end up completely abandoned by everyone?

Three hours after realizing I had been reincarnated, the first thing I did was push down the overwhelming emotions and call my husband on a video call. “Honey, where are you? The ribbon-cutting ceremony for the new store is about to start. I’ll pick you up so we can go together.” My husband was silent for a moment before replying, “I’m at home, having an online meeting with my colleagues. I probably won’t be able to join you. Why are you being so clingy today? Don’t worry. I’ll stay home and won’t go out hitting on anyone.” Worried that I might not believe him, he flipped the camera around, showing me he was indeed at home. “If something’s bothering you or if I’ve done something to upset you, just let me know. Don’t bottle it up.” He laughed brightly, “Silly, you’re the best wife in the world. I cherish you so much. How could I ever be mad at you?” His answer was warm and familiar, so natural it didn’t even seem forced. This video call didn’t ease my doubts. It only made them worse. At this moment, there were only three hours left before he would take his own life, yet he seemed completely normal—no sign of someone about to end it all. But why, three hours from now, would he make such a drastic decision? As I pondered this, my assistant called to remind me that the ceremony was about to begin. The assistant was one of the few people I trusted fully, and after some hesitation, I decided to downplay everything, telling her a little white lie about a “friend” and asking if she had any thoughts on the situation. She paused for a moment and then said, “Ms. Bennett, what if this whole thing is a setup targeting your friend? It’s possible that your friend’s father has been unhappy with them for a long time.” “No way,” I blurted out. My dad had always spoiled me, and for over 20 years, we’d had a close father-daughter relationship. He favored me more than he did Nora, so how could he ever have the heart to harm me? But my assistant’s words still made some sense. If my dad truly loved me the way he showed, then why, after Logan’s death in my past life, did he immediately accuse me of pushing Logan to suicide without giving me a chance to explain? Why did he throw me into a storm of public opinion and bring me to court? There was definitely something off about Logan’s death. But where was the problem? The details of my past life kept replaying in my mind as I tried to piece things together. It took me almost half an hour before I suddenly snapped out of my thoughts. I looked at the still-open video call screen and immediately turned to my assistant. “You don’t have to go to the ceremony. Go check something for me. If you get it done, I’ll give you a bonus.” The bonus was far more appealing than the ceremony. By the time I’d given my instructions, my assistant was full of energy, saying she’d get to the bottom of it. I took a car to the new store. The allure of money was powerful. In just an hour and a half, my assistant had gathered all the information. I looked at the documents in my hand, and my heart sank. I never imagined that my entire life so far had been built on lies. I quietly pulled my assistant aside. “There’s one more thing, but don’t let anyone else know.” After giving her my instructions, I returned to the ceremony, trying to block out my swirling thoughts and focus on preparing for the event.

By the time the ceremony ended, the news that Andrea Bennett, the famous businesswoman, had found her husband dead at home from a suicide had already gone viral. As a semi-public figure, our every move was scrutinized by people with ulterior motives, including competitors. Now that such a major incident had occurred, the crowd of onlookers had already gathered outside our door. Everyone was in perfect sync, holding up their phones to record videos or stream live. I clicked on the hottest live stream. Nora appeared on the screen. She was sitting on the floor, a white cloth covering Logan’s body in front of her. She said, “Logan, you were so stupid. You had the courage to kill yourself, but you didn’t have the guts to just run away. “It’s our fault. If I had told Andrea about how she liked to hit people and told you that I’ve been bullied by her all my life, maybe you wouldn’t have married her. You wouldn’t have lost your life so young.” She continued crying, “Dad, Andrea went too far this time. I told her Logan was dead and asked her to come see him one last time, but not only did she refuse, she had security kick me out. “She didn’t even care that Logan was her husband, the person she spent every day with. There wasn’t a single expression of sorrow on her face. How could anyone be so cold-hearted?” Nora’s words were barely finished before my dad walked into the frame. He looked at the camera, his teeth clenched, seething with anger. “Andrea, you ungrateful piece of crap, is your work really more important than Logan? Why didn’t you believe Nora when she told you Logan killed himself? Instead, you had her thrown out. “You pushed him to his death, and now, you won’t even come to see him one last time? How could you be so heartless? I don’t care where you are, but you better get your ass back here right now.” Nora’s crying had already stirred the anger of the livestream viewers, and now, with my dad’s words, the attacks grew even harsher. The comments exploded, calling me every kind of insult. The viewers were furious, and the crowd outside, even more enraged, began chanting curses, wishing death upon me. Seeing that the crowd was in the right mood, I drove back to the neighborhood. When I arrived, the place was surrounded, and there was no way in. As soon as I stepped out of the car, someone with sharp eyes recognized me. “That evil woman’s back! Get her!” The crowd’s fury erupted all at once. Things were thrown at me from all directions. Thankfully, my professional bodyguards had prepared for this. They opened two large umbrellas, shielding most of the attacks. “How dare she fend off? Look at her. She’s even wearing makeup!” “What a shameless bitch. Her husband just died, and she’s still decked out. Is she celebrating her husband’s death?” “Even a murderer would have more compassion than her!” The police arrived around the same time we did and immediately began setting up a perimeter to control the crowd. With their help, the crowd parted just enough for me to walk through with the officers. The moment I stepped in front of them, my dad rushed forward and slapped me hard across the face. He roared, “You piece of garbage, what did Logan ever do to deserve this? Why did you have to push him to the point of suicide? If I don’t get you thrown in jail today, I won’t be able to face Logan.” His voice was so full of anguish and pain that every word was charged with emotion, stirring up the crowd even further. Had it not been for the fact that I was the target of his fury, I would have joined in and cursed myself. After my dad finished, Nora, with a look of utter disappointment, turned to the police. “Sir, I want to file a report. I have evidence that proves Logan was driven to death. I hope you’ll uphold the law and arrest this evil woman.” Nora, standing right in front of the camera, showed the video she’d pre-recorded. She continued, “This is a package Logan sent me before he died. He told me to wait for the right moment to show it so everyone could see what kind of evil woman Andrea really is.” Over the past few hours, they had gathered enough evidence to build a strong case. Nora looked at me with a sneer. “You think Logan was some orphan with no one to fight for him? No! We’re his family. We’ve got witnesses and evidence. Just wait, Andrea. You’ll have to pay for what you’ve done.” And in front of the police, I did something that nobody expected.

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When my mom fell seriously ill, my husband, Callum Hart, who struggled with a low sperm count, promised he would find a way to help. I gave him all my savings. Pregnant and working late-night shifts as a delivery driver, I passed by a sales office one night and saw Callum—someone who should have been working just as hard as I was—hugging his childhood friend and splurging on a new apartment. “She really thinks I only make a little bit every month. I make twenty thousand dollars, but I told her I only make two thousand dollars. I’ll make sure every penny of my paycheck has a part for you.” I fought back tears as I grabbed at his sleeve, hoping to borrow some money to treat my mom. He swatted my hand away, clearly irritated. “I give you two thousand dollars a month. Isn’t it that enough? Are you wasting it all?” He ignored my desperate cries and walked away, even kicking the baby in my belly he had been dreaming of. Later, he kneeled on the floor, begging me to forgive him, but I was too heartbroken and disillusioned. I didn’t want him anymore. ***** “How could you be delivering this late? It’s already cold! You’re seriously this dumb?” In the pouring rain, I was stuck in traffic during rush hour, and I ended up being a minute late. The customer, furious, threw the entire order at me. All I could do was force a smile, apologizing and offering to compensate her. As I walked out of the building, drenched and looking like a mess, I noticed Callum—who should’ve been working just as hard as me—spending a fortune buying a new apartment for Elara Finch, who had just divorced. “She really thinks I only make a little bit every month. I make twenty thousand dollars, but I told her I only make two thousand dollars. She’s so dumb that she believed me and handed over all her savings, which is exactly why I can afford to buy you this apartment. I’ll make sure every penny of my paycheck has a part for you.” Elara buried her head in Callum’s chest, acting all shy. “Cal, you’re so good to me.” Callum looked incredibly smug. “With the bond we’ve had since we were kids, I’m gonna take care of you for the rest of your life now that you’ve divorced.” I stood there frozen, my eyelids twitching. The sauce on the edge of my hair fell into my eyes. Tears started to pour down my face. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The Callum who used to work overtime tirelessly to pay for my mom’s medical bills, was actually lying to me and buying an apartment for Elara. Shaking, I dialed Callum’s number. After a few hang-ups, he finally answered, clearly annoyed. I asked him when he’d come to the hospital to visit my mom, but he dismissed me with a half-hearted answer. “Honey, I’m working hard to earn money for your mom’s treatment. I really can’t make it to the hospital right now. And even if you care about your mom, you should try to understand my situation. Don’t keep calling me, okay? I need to focus on work.” Listening to the beeping of the phone, I felt as if a huge hand was squeezing my chest, choking my heart. Even now, he was still lying to me. I forced a bitter smile. Callum’s mother had once sacrificed her own life to save him from a fire. She had given him her oxygen mask, not caring about the risk of an explosion, and had pulled him to safety. She inhaled too much smoke and was left with severe health consequences. After Callum and I got married, my mom treated him like her own son. But I never imagined that, in the end, our years of shared struggles would only lead to misery, not happiness. My mom had saved a heartless, selfish man.

I trudged back home, feeling deflated, and looked around at our old, worn-down house that had been our home for over a decade. Just then, my phone buzzed again with a message from Callum. Callum: [Honey, I’ve got to work late at the office tonight. I won’t be coming home. Get some rest, okay?] I lowered my gaze, numb. After a long day, I didn’t even care whether the message was true. I swallowed my emotions and quickly prepared myself to head to the hospital to take care of my mom. Just as I was about to get on my scooter, my phone rang— it was my mom’s doctor. “Your mom’s condition has suddenly worsened, and she’s been rushed into surgery. Get here with the money as soon as you can!” My heart skipped a beat. I let go of the scooter handle, and the next thing I knew, I was on the ground, my knee scraped up badly. But I didn’t even feel the pain. All I could think about was calling Callum for some money. “Honey, my mom’s situation has worsened. Can you send me some more money?” There was a long pause on the other end, and I could tell he didn’t believe me. “I used up all the money last time we paid the bills. I don’t have anything left, honey. Your mom’s been lying in bed for so many years. You can’t let that drag us down. Maybe it’s time to just let go.” Even now, Callum was still lying to me. I felt like I was about to break. “Please, I know you still have money! Please, just send me some more! My mom is in surgery right now! If we can’t pay, she might not make it!” I heard Elara’s voice in the background, stirring trouble. “Cal, this woman is clearly using you. She’s always asking for money and doesn’t care about your health at all. You should stay away from these two bloodsuckers.” It felt like all the air in my lungs had been squeezed out of me. Working late? In the bedroom of the luxurious apartment he bought for Elara in the city? I scoffed bitterly, but then, remembering all the years Callum and I had spent together, I held on to a glimmer of hope and said, “Honey, I’m not lying. My mom’s really in danger. Please, just send me a little more money to help save her. Think about everything my mom did for you when you were a kid…” But before I could finish, Callum interrupted me with a shout of anger. “It was just your mom saving me from a fire! Isn’t that what any firefighter would do? How long are you going to guilt-trip me over that?” I couldn’t believe it—Callum actually thought like this. My voice trembled as I tried to explain, “That’s not what I meant…” But Callum snapped, “You always want money! Do you ever think about how I’m still stuck at the office working late? Even Ellie understands how hard I work and brings me lunch. But you? You’re out here delivering food to make a quick buck. You just embarrass me in front of my colleagues! Thalia, I’m so disappointed in you.” I stared at the “call ended” screen, trembling. I wiped my wet face and got back on my scooter, speeding into the night. I couldn’t tell if the wetness on my face was from sweat or tears. I only knew that the faster I went, the closer I was to my mom. I sat outside the operating room all night, barely breathing, until they moved my mom into the ICU. Only then did I let out a sigh of relief. “The surgical fees need to be paid quickly, and the follow-up treatments won’t be cheap.” Looking at my mom lying so quietly on the bed, I felt my body slide down onto the cold floor. I didn’t know how long I stayed there before I finally stood up and headed home. There was nothing left to do but this.

I pulled the property deed out of the safe. This house was a gift from my dad before he passed away. It was an old, run-down place, but the location was decent. If I sold it, I should be able to buy some time to deal with the urgent situation. But as I was heading out the door with the deed in my hand, I ran straight into Callum, who was coming home with Elara. “What’s that in your hand?” I told Callum the truth, explaining that I was planning to sell the house to save my mom. Elara, disgusted by my disheveled appearance, pinched her nose and wrapped her arm around Callum’s, saying, “Your mom just has a minor lung condition. What’s with selling the house to fix that? You’re clearly up to something, trying to sell Cal’s property to make life easier for yourself!” I ignored Elara, my mind set on getting to the hospital with the money as fast as possible. But seeing the doubt in Callum’s eyes, I knew he wouldn’t let me sell the house. I gave him a cold, resolute look and said, “Move aside. I have somewhere I need to be.” Just as I was about to push past him to leave, Callum grabbed my wrist. “Thalia, you’re crazy! Your mom just has a little lung condition. How much could it possibly cost? Why are you selling my house?” Shaking, I fumbled through my worn-out bag and pulled out my mom’s diagnosis report. I was about to hand it to Callum when he snatched it from my hands and ripped it to shreds. “Don’t try to fool me with this fake stuff! I’m telling you, I’m not letting you sell my house. I’ve taken care of you two for years, and now you want to sell my property? What’s really going on here?” Callum shoved me to the ground, and the sharp pain in the back of my head made me gasp. “You’re pretending again! You’re just delivering takeout. What’s so exhausting about that?” That was the last straw. My emotions snapped, and I screamed, “My mom’s dying of cancer! I’m selling the house my dad left me to save her life—what’s wrong with that?!” For a moment, Callum’s face went blank, taken aback. Seeing this, Elara quickly jumped in. “Cal, you’ve been with her for so long, and her mom was never seriously ill. How did she suddenly get cancer at this time? They’ve already taken so much from you over the years—maybe this is just another scheme to scam you for more money!” Elara’s words confirmed, in Callum’s eyes, that my mom and I were nothing more than bloodsuckers. Thinking back on all the money my mom’s treatments had cost, Callum’s expression darkened. “We’ve been married for years. You think I don’t know what’s going on with you and your mom? I hate liars like you! Go stay in the room and think about things. I’ll go verify the situation with your mom.” He locked the door behind him, ignoring my cries, and walked away. I collapsed in the corner, hands pressed together, praying desperately that my mom would be okay.   Later that night, Callum came home, holding takeout from the place I used to order from all the time. He knelt down and gently wiped away my tears, his eyes soft—though I couldn’t tell if it was real or just another act. “I didn’t mean to lose my temper with you earlier. I just thought, if you sold the house, we’d have nowhere to live, and your mom wouldn’t have a place to recover when she gets out of the hospital. Please, eat something. Then I’ll take you to see your mom, okay?” I rubbed my eyes, barely able to focus, and started shoveling the food into my mouth. It was like if I ate faster, my mom would get better sooner. “We’ll figure out the money,” Callum continued. “If I apply for a yearlong business trip, my salary will go up from two thousand dollars to six thousand dollars a month. We can manage.” I looked at him, disbelief flooding me. A yearlong business trip? Was he really going on a trip, or was this just an excuse to go be with Elara, who had just gotten divorced? “What’s the matter? You can’t bear to be apart from me?” I suppressed my emotions and shook my head. The priority was getting the money for my mom’s treatment, not worrying about whether or not Callum was cheating. As we sat in the car, I absentmindedly reached up to adjust the visor, hoping to look a little better. But when I opened it, a small note fell out. I immediately knew—it was Elara’s doing, reminding everyone that Callum’s passenger seat was hers alone. I bit my lip and carefully put the note back. Callum, seeing the note, just gave an awkward smile. “It’s from a previous Uber passenger. I was trying to raise money for your mom’s medical expenses. Don’t mind it.” I rubbed my throbbing temples, my head leaning against the window. After everything—his repeated lies—my heart was numb. I would trust him one more time. If he could lie about his salary to buy Elara an apartment, surely he’d pay my mom’s medical bills as her son-in-law. But just as the car stopped at the hospital, I received a message from my mom’s doctor. [Sorry, ma’am. Your mother didn’t make it. Despite efforts, we couldn’t save her.] At that moment, it felt like thunder had struck me. I froze, unable to move. Hearing my phone crash to the ground, Callum came over, confused. “What happened? Can’t even hold your phone straight? We are not able to afford a new phone.” Staring at Callum’s smug expression, my rage erupted. I slammed my fist into his chest. “My mom is dead! If you hadn’t locked me in the house, lied about your salary, and bought Elara an apartment, she wouldn’t have died!” Callum frowned. “How could that be? It’s just a mild case of pneumonia, right?” But then, the realization hit him, and he grabbed me by the collar, shouting, “You’ve been following me!” When he looked at my tear-streaked face, his anger flared even higher. “Answer me! Why the hell were you following me? I earned this money myself, and I have the right to spend it however I want! You two have taken so much from me over the years—how much more do you want? My every penny?!” I struggled, trying to break free and get to the hospital to see my mom one last time, but Callum’s grip was ironclad. “Trying to run away now that your lies have been exposed? I’m trying to do you a favor by taking you to the hospital, and you’ve been lying to me! You’ve really disappointed me. Now go back home and think about who’s in charge!” Desperate, I used all my strength to slap him. My eyes burning with fury, I glared at him and spat, “Callum Hart! I’ll hate you for the rest of my life!” Callum wiped the blood from his lips and slapped me back with a sharp crack. “Get back home and stay there!” he ordered. I refused, my fists flying in a wild frenzy. “Go back to your own house if you want, but I’m staying at the hospital to be with my mom! You want me to come home? Why? You and Elara’s shared home isn’t enough for you?” Furious, Callum kicked me hard. “How dare you insult Ellie?! You want to stay at the hospital? Fine, never come back!” With that, he got in the car and drove off, leaving me in the parking lot. I writhed in agony on the ground, a sharp pain searing through my abdomen. Then, a horrible realization dawned on me— My child was gone. I had planned to surprise Callum with the news, but instead, the child we had both eagerly awaited was lost because of him. Weakly, I crawled through the dimly lit underground parking lot, leaving a trail of blood behind me. All I could think about was seeing my mom one last time. But darkness surrounded me like the claws of a demon, and overwhelming grief and fear gripped my heart. “Callum Hart, I don’t want you anymore. Let’s get a divorce.”

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My parents were taken away by gangsters, who demanded one million dollars. They threatened to kill them immediately if I reported to the police. When I went to the bank to withdraw the money, I found that my account balance was down to single digits. The only person who knew the PIN to the card, besides me, was my husband, Lucas. I called him, but it wasn’t Lucas who answered. It was his first love, the one he could never forget. “Lucas is busy showing me houses right now. He’ll call you back later.” I called again, but this time, Lucas’ phone was switched off. That day, because I couldn’t pay the ransom in time, I lost my parents. And Lucas lost the only hope he had for a cure, an experimental drug that could save him from cancer. ***** “Ms. Rogers, if you don’t want anything to happen to your parents, we expect you to deliver the one million dollars to the location we specify by 6 PM today. “That’s all we’re asking for. Surely, the life of your parents isn’t worth more than that, right? “Don’t try anything funny. If you report this to the police, we can’t guarantee your parents’ safety,” The gangsters said. I watched the video sent by the gangsters. My elderly parents were bound tightly and thrown in a corner their lives uncertain. My eyes were red, as though blood was about to seep out. No wonder I hadn’t been able to reach them these past few days. I had assumed they were busy with their research, since they were so close to completing their work on the experimental drug. I never expected that they had been taken by gangsters. I wiped away my tears, my voice trembling as I spoke into the phone, “I’ll get the money to you. Please don’t hurt my parents.” On the other end, a chilling laugh echoed before the call was cut off. “Let’s see if you can prove your sincerity, Ms. Rogers.” As I rushed to the bank with the card to get the money, the teller handed it back to me with a look of regret. “I’m sorry, Miss, but there are insufficient funds on this card.” “How is that possible? There should be more than one million dollars in my account! Please, I’m really in a hurry. I need this money.” The teller hesitated but then checked again. She reluctantly told me that the balance on the card was only about seven dollars. I suddenly realized that besides me, the only other person who knew the PIN was Lucas. So, I immediately called him. It took a while for the phone to connect, but before I could say anything, a frustrated woman’s voice came through the speaker. “Lucas is busy with me showing houses. He’ll call you back when he can. Goodbye.” And then the line went dead with a beep. I was going crazy. I didn’t have time to think about who this woman was. I quickly called again, but this time, his phone was switched off completely. No matter how many times I tried, the same dead tone greeted me.

I collapsed onto the ground, my fingernails digging into my palms in a desperate attempt to calm myself down. During this time, I finally remembered who the woman on the phone had been. Her name was Mandy, Lucas’ college classmate and the one he had never stopped thinking about. A while ago, Mandy had divorced her husband and moved with her child to our city, where she and Lucas had reconnected. Lucas, feeling sorry for Mandy as a single mother, had been helping her both emotionally and financially. He had even offered to help cover the cost of a house she had her eye on in a nearby neighborhood. But since our savings also included the money that I had saved for a future home, I refused to let Lucas give her any money. Now, reflecting on the fact that Lucas had accompanied Mandy to see the house, I could almost confirm that it was Lucas who had taken the money from our account. With this realization, I scrambled to my feet and rushed out the door, hailing a taxi to take me to the real estate office where Lucas had mentioned Mandy had found a place. During the ride, I prayed that I could get the money back, not only because it was critical to saving my parents but also because my parents had made groundbreaking progress in the research of a cancer cure. Once this drug was ready, it could save millions of people, including Lucas. Yes, Lucas had been suffering from chronic stomach pain for a long time. At first, he didn’t pay much attention to it, but when I secretly went to get his medical check-up report, I found out that he was already in the late stages of stomach cancer. Fearing that telling him would make his condition worse, I had kept it from him, hoping that the miracle drug my parents were working on could save him. When I arrived at the real estate office, I spotted Lucas and Mandy standing close together, chatting intimately. As soon as he heard me call his name, Lucas turned around. After a brief moment of eye contact, impatience flickered in his eyes. “I told you, I’m busy. Can’t you understand?” I didn’t have time to argue with him about his attitude; I rushed over to demand the money. “Lucas, give me back the money on the card. It’s urgent!” Lucas pulled his hand away from mine and looked at me with disgust. “I’ve already used it. I just paid for the house.” I was so furious I almost shouted, “Then, return the house and give me my money back!” At that moment, Mandy walked over and stood in front of Lucas, giving me a disapproving look. “Ms. Rogers, Lucas is only trying to help us. He’s a kind man. Don’t make it harder for him.” Seeing Mandy’s defense of him, Lucas grew even more annoyed. “The money’s been spent. It can’t be refunded. Mandy and her son have it tough, too. Can’t you show a little empathy and stop causing a scene?”

I watched the time slip away, my heart growing more anxious by the second. I looked at Lucas with pleading eyes and said, “Please, I’m desperate. I really need this money. If we don’t hurry, my parents… they’ll be dead.” Lucas chuckled bitterly, clearly angry, “Enough, Nicole. To get the money back, you’re even willing to curse your parents? You’ve lost your mind.” Mandy, who had been quiet until then, spoke up, “Ms. Rogers, I know you’re reluctant to part with the money, but don’t worry. I’ll find a way to pay you back soon. Just stop saying things like that. Your parents will be heartbroken if they hear you.” “It’s true,” I said, my voice trembling as I broke down in tears. “My parents were taken away. The gangsters want a million dollars for their release. If I don’t pay, they’ll…” My sobs choked me, and I could barely finish the sentence. Lucas froze, his expression shifting. Doubt flashed in his eyes as if he was questioning the truth of what I’d said. Seeing that he seemed to be listening, Mandy grew more impatient. She tugged at his sleeve and said, “You’re not actually believing this, are you? Gangsters? What is this, some kind of movie?” Lucas snapped out of it and shot me a look full of contempt. Desperate, I grabbed his arm. “I’m not lying. Please, believe me, just this once. Please. I’ll never get involved in your life again, never bother you or Mandy after this. Just help me save my parents. “Even if you have to divorce me and be with her, it doesn’t matter.” Hearing that, Lucas immediately yanked his arm away from me, a mocking smirk on his face. He sneered, “In the end, it’s still about how much I’ve done for Mandy. You’re just looking for a poor excuse to take the money back. Well, it’s already been paid, and I’m not giving it back. You can forget about it. “As for your parents being taken away, what does that have to do with me? Go to the police.” Without another word, he turned and wrapped his arm around Mandy, preparing to leave. I cried out after him, “Don’t you know you have cancer? Only my parents can save you!” He scoffed and continued walking, not even bothering to look back. I dragged my exhausted body to the sales office, clinging to the last bit of hope. I found the person in charge and explained that Lucas had used our joint assets to buy a house for another woman. I demanded the money be returned. The person behind the desk looked at me helplessly and shrugged. “Miss, this is a tricky situation. The money has already been paid, and the deed is in that young lady’s name. If you need help, you’ll have to go to the police.” On my way to the police station, one of the gangsters called again. This time, his tone was growing more impatient. “Ms. Rogers, there’s less than three hours left. Our patience is running out. I hope you’ll deliver the money soon.” I hurriedly sobbed into the phone, “I’m almost there! Just give me a little more time, please!” “We’ve seen you’re heading to the police station. Looks like you don’t want your parents to live,” the gangster snapped. I hurriedly tried to explain, “No, it’s not like that. My husband took all the money, and I was going to the police to get it back. I never intended to…” Before I could finish, the call abruptly ended. I tried calling back, but no one answered.   Now, all I could do was hope that the gangsters had listened to me, that they believed I was only going to the police to raise the money. After hearing my story, the police quickly contacted Lucas and Mandy, demanding that they return the money. I guess they never expected I would go straight to the police like this, but under pressure, Lucas reluctantly returned the money. Even as he handed it over, he spat out a cruel threat, saying I should go home and prepare for a divorce. I ignored him, swiftly took the money, and ran to the location the gangsters had given me. When I arrived at the abandoned factory on the outskirts, I glanced at my phone, my heart sinking as I saw it was already 6:10 p.m. And the gangster’s number was no longer reachable. Clinging to the last shred of hope, I stepped into the factory and knocked on the heavy iron door. The dust that rose from the floor made me cough violently. I peered inside urgently and saw the emptiness that made my heart drop further. I scanned the room, and then I saw two familiar figures in the corner. “Dad! Mom!” I cried out, rushing over in desperation, trying to wake them. But the gangsters, after all, were ruthless. They had no mercy. They hadn’t received the money in time, and they had already gone to work on my parents. My father and mother had deep cuts on their necks, blood pouring from them. My mother was already gone. My father, seeing me, mustered the last of his strength and managed to force a weak smile before collapsing completely into the pool of blood. At that moment, my heart died with them. I numbly knelt in front of them, trying to use my hands to stop the bleeding, but it was hopeless. In the end, I broke down, clutching them, unable to control my tears. At that moment, I no longer cared about anything. I grabbed my phone and dialed the police. After the police arrived and gathered the information, they tried to comfort me, while asking for more details about the gangsters. In the days that followed, I moved back and forth between my house and the police station, desperate to help catch the people who had harmed my parents. Once the police had gathered all the clues, they told me to return home and wait for updates. I began making arrangements for my parents’ funeral. During this time, Lucas never returned home, and I didn’t try to contact him, either. It wasn’t until the day of the funeral that Lucas finally came back. When he saw the house full of mourning attire, he frowned and asked, “What’s going on? Why all this gloom? It’s so… forget it, let’s not talk about that. Do you still have any money? Mandy’s forgiven you for the scene you caused the other day because of me, but she’s looking to buy another place. “This time, to make up for it, you’re going to have to contribute a little. It’ll show you have some sincerity.”

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Li’s first love has returned. It was time for me, who had been his mistress for nine years to leave. But he begged me to stay.

My brother, Edward Blair, was baking a cake with Emma Thompson when I was locked in the tank by the killer. While my trachea was slowly cut open, and I could only let out agonized gasps, Edward coldly said on the other end of the phone, “Madison, you didn’t come back for Dad’s death anniversary. You’re so heartless. “Emma begged you to go see Dad, and you actually injured her. You have to apologize to Emma before you go to hell, even if you die.” Later, Edward personally dissected my body and analyzed the tragedy. But he didn’t know that the body he saw close at hand belonged to his own sister. ***** My body was fished out of the river. The salvage man was grim-faced as he stated the facts of the case to the police, “I thought I’d fish out the garbage while it wasn’t dark, but I didn’t realize that something had hit the fishing net.” As a leading forensic scientist, my brother Edward Blair was rushed to the scene of the crime by a phone call from his team leader, Frank Smith. He was still wearing a flour-stained apron. Frank frowned and said in a somewhat low voice, “Are you spending Madison’s birthday with her?” Edward froze and shook his head. “Emma wanted to eat the cake I baked. I don’t know where Madison’s been fooling around. She hasn’t been home in days, and I don’t care.” He seemed to have forgotten that it was my birthday. How ironic! Tears blurred my eyes. In a trance, I saw a young Edward smiling as he set the cupcake in front of me and said, “Madison, I’ll be there for you on every birthday from now on.” Now, I watched Edward take off his ridiculous apron, put on his gloves with a serious face, and get to work. My body was wrapped in a black bag, emitting a foul odor. Edward opened the bag, looking at the body, and froze. The body had almost no epidermis, exposing bare flesh that was soaked white. The only thing left of the corpse’s features was a nose, causing one’s heart to palpitate just by looking at it. But Edward didn’t even frown and ordered his assistant, Liam Ward, “Extract the DNA. This situation can only be compared with the database.” Liam said in surprise, “Edward, I think I’ve seen Madison wearing these shoes of the deceased.” I’d been stepped on by Liam earlier when I’d brought Edward his food. He was a bit embarrassed at the time and complimented me on my nice shoes, but I didn’t think he would recognize them. I had bought a pair of these shoes for Edward as well. Only, unfortunately, he hadn’t unpacked them since the beginning. Edward reprimanded in a muffled voice, saying, “Don’t mention irrelevant people. Mentioning her is insulting the dead.” I sighed gently, unable to keep my lips from trembling. In Edward’s mind, any dead person he handled was far more important than me. And I was a stain on his life. He finished the first autopsy quickly and sighed, “Let’s go back and check the stomach contents and liver temperature.” Watching the body being put into a bag, Frank patted Edward on the shoulder. “Edward, the victim was abused, right? That’s not an easy case.” It was nightfall when the body was found, and many walkers stood by to watch. The news of the body being recovered from the park spread quickly. Kevin Durant, the police chief, gave orders to solve the case as soon as possible to avoid social unrest. Frank patted Edward on the shoulder. “How many days will you probably need?” Edward rubbed his brow in some annoyance. “The body was dumped in the river in the park, and it was extremely damaged. Don’t get your hopes up.” I wanted to reach out and smooth Edward’s furrowed brow. But I couldn’t touch him. I’d always thought that my rigid relationship with Edward was a hindrance to our getting along. But at this moment, I realized that life and death were the great divide between Edward and me. I never had the chance to hear Edward call me sister again.

Frank sat in the conference room with a worried look on his face. He was holding an unlit cigarette. “This kind of case where we don’t know the origin of the body is the toughest.” A police officer speculated and said, “The corpse is so tragic. Could it be a crime of passion?” Edward shook his head. “The time of death is around three days. The victim was abused and then drowned. The killer’s motive does need to be sorted out.” Frank suddenly thought of something and looked at Edward. “Edward, Madison is a famous psychologist, and Rivarity City authorities invited her to give a lecture on criminal psychology some time ago. Ask her to analyze this case…” Before he could finish, Edward interrupted with a sharp voice, “Madison? She’s just a fake expert with a false reputation. Who dares to use someone as ruthless as her?” Liam, who was at the side, pressed his lips and whispered, “Madison is not that kind of person.” Edward snorted coldly and slammed the pen in his hand on the table. He said, “I know best what kind of person she is. I won’t work with her on this case. I’m going to the autopsy first.” Frank shook his head and ordered helplessly, “What are you guys waiting for? Go and extract traces from the scene, visit the witnesses in groups, and take statements.” After that, he looked at Edward’s back and muttered, “With this attitude towards his sister, he’ll regret it one day sooner or later.” I sniffled, tears surfacing in my eyes. How could Edward regret it? He hated me more than he could say. I had tried countless times to explain the misunderstanding between us, but Edward would always interrupt me coldly, “You killed Dad and put Mom in a vegetative state. What reason do you have to tell me that you’re right?” Every time I looked at Edward’s disgusted and distrustful eyes, I could only swallow the truth of the matter. I had wanted to wait for Edward’s birthday this year to have a good chat with him. But I didn’t get the chance after all. In the autopsy room, Edward held the scalpel tightly and bowed his head for a moment of silence. He calmly used the scalpel to cut through the chest cavity of the corpse, and the pungent smell instantly rushed into his nostrils. But Edward remained calm but froze at the sight of the corpse’s left arm. Liam came over curiously and said, “Did the killer carve this?” Edward’s rubber-gloved hand fumbled with the gray tattoo on the puffy arm. “No. It looks like it’s been tattooed for a long time.” He sighed, a little compassionately, “The victim would be close to the family. The tattoo would have been all four of their family.” My eyes were so sore and swollen that tears flowed out as if I was trying to get all my aggression out. After my dad, David Blair, died, my mom, Nicole Blair, went into a coma. From that day on, I had no home. I tattooed a picture of us together on my arm, expecting Edward to be touched. But he just glanced at me coldly. “What did you tattoo? It’s disgusting. Get out of here.” Edward regarded me as an enemy, seeing only Emma as his sister. But the car accident at the time was because of Emma. She had clamored for David to stop for a cake and then went to grab David’s steering wheel. Immediately afterward, our car collided with an oncoming van. I woke up with multiple fractures and couldn’t move. But Edward was in the next ward with Emma, who had a mild concussion. He didn’t come to see me even until I was discharged from the hospital. But after I died, Edward cast more eyes on my corpse than he had looked at me all these years. If Edward knew that Emma, the only good sister in his heart, had something to do with my death, would he shed a single tear for me?

Edward’s cell phone rang. Liam looked at it and said gently, “Edward, it’s your sister.” But he said impatiently, “Don’t you know I’m busy? Tell Madison not to bother me.” Liam said, “Edward, it’s not Madison.” Edward froze for a moment as if puzzled that I hadn’t contacted him in so many days. But soon, a warm smile filled his eyes. He hastily removed his gloves and softly said, “Emma, what’s wrong? I’m not busy. Go ahead.” I laughed mockingly. Edward’s attitude towards me and Emma had always been worlds apart. I should have gotten used to it long ago. Emma’s pitiful voice rang out. “Edward, I accidentally broke Madison’s trophy in the living room when I was cleaning the house. I’m afraid she’ll be angry.” I widened my eyes, which were bloodshot from anger. That trophy was one I had gotten from a competition when I was a kid. Edward had set it out in the living room with pride on his face, then cleaned it to perfection. “Madison is just the best. I want everyone to know how good Madison is.” But now, Edward was only concerned with comforting Emma, who pretended to be frightened. “Emma, don’t be afraid. If Madison gets mad at you, I’ll keep her out of the house for the rest of her life.” What he didn’t realize was that I would never be able to come home again. Maybe when he learned of my death, Edward would even be glad to finally not have to see me again. Edward handed the autopsy records to Frank, who had returned with the team. He said, “Frank, I’m going home to eat and change before I come back. I haven’t been with my sister in a couple of days.” Frank chuckled, “Didn’t you say you didn’t care about your sister before? You should be nice to Madison from now on. It hasn’t been easy for her all these years.” Edward’s face instantly gloomed, a hint of dislike in his eyes. “I don’t have a sister like Madison. She doesn’t deserve my kindness after what she’s done to the family. Emma is well-behaved and understanding, but Madison is a heartless asshole.” Frank said somewhat meaningfully, “I’m an old friend of David and Nicole’s and kind of watched you and Madison grow up. You should hear Madison’s feelings.” Edward put on his jacket and said somewhat helplessly, “Frank, you don’t have to talk me into this. On my dad’s death anniversary, Madison never went to pay her respects to him. Sometimes, I wonder if her heart is black.” Edward had never doubted Emma’s lies. Back then, when we were in that car accident, Emma was less injured than me. Waking up first, she told Edward that I had been arguing with David and Nicole, causing them to be distracted before the tragedy. Edward then considered me to be a cold-blooded scourge. David and Nicole had sponsored Emma. Later, her house caught fire, and she was the only one who survived. David and Nicole adopted Emma because they felt sorry for her as an orphan. But then, I realized that she seemed to be trying to replace me. Emma must be very pleased with herself now. After all, at her instigation, Edward regarded me as his enemy. I could only cry and tell Nicole, who was in a coma, my grievances when I visited her. I was more of a helpless orphan than Emma. Edward returned home and didn’t pick up the pieces of the trophy on the floor. Instead, he rubbed Emma’s hair with concern. “You’re not hurt, are you? I’ll clean up the floor later.” I looked at the broken trophy on the floor, and it was as if my heart had broken a big hole in it as well. Edward, who had once seen me as proud, now only thought I was trash. Emma’s long eyelashes blocked out the laughter in her eyes. “Edward, is Madison still mad at me? She hasn’t been home in days.” Edward glanced at her gauze-wrapped left hand with some distress. “I’ll make Madison apologize to you. She’s just a sinful person with an evil heart.” It was true that I had caused the injury on Emma’s hand. But it was from my struggles when she was killing me. I wished so much for Edward to discover Emma’s true colors. Watching the way they cared for each other, I only felt my heart hurt like a blazing fire was burning it. Until I died, Edward remained a believer in Emma. However, it didn’t matter, and I would never come home and bother them anymore.   Edward’s cell phone rang, and his warm and fuzzy time with Emma was forced to end. Frank’s voice rang out. “We found new evidence. Edward, come back and do another autopsy.” Edward rushed back to the station and let out a sigh as he looked at the bag of facial features that had been cut off on the autopsy table. He said, “What kind of hate makes a killer actually go this far?” Edward put on gloves and pieced together the facial features but paused when he picked up my right ear because there was a crescent-shaped scar on that earlobe. It was a wound from an accidental rollover when Edward was riding me on his bike when I was a kid. At that time, Edward looked at the blood on my ear and comforted me while crying, saying, “Madison, don’t be afraid. I will protect you in the future.” Edward blinked and seemed to remember something. I felt nervous. Did Edward recognize me? But the next second, he continued his work with a calm face. Edward and I missed each other once again. Frank’s voice was a little restless. “Edward, I think Madison has such a scar on her ear as well.” Liam chimed in, “Yes. Edward, every time you have a stomach problem, Madison brings you a nutritious meal she made. This time, you’ve been having a hard time for a few days, and I haven’t seen Madison come yet.” Edward’s diet was irregular, so he had terrible stomach aches every time. I went to a traditional physician specifically to get a prescription for medicinal diets. Afraid that Edward would not want to eat what I made, I had to ask Frank or Liam to pass it on. Everyone else could see my love for Edward, but only Edward thought I was a cold-blooded person. Edward sneered, mockery in his eyes, “Madison won’t die if anyone dies. In her mind, her life is more important than anyone else.” Frank rubbed his temples and said somewhat helplessly, “Well, I’ve got orders to get a criminal profiler to assist with this case. “Contact Madison in a few minutes and tell her to come to the station this afternoon. Don’t say you’re not working with her. That’s an order.” Edward gently pressed his lips together and reluctantly agreed. But when he dialed my number, all he heard was an electronic tone. He said, “She’s still having a tantrum at this hour. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted her.” With that, Edward sent me the message: [Madison, you don’t have to come home if you don’t answer the phone. People with evil hearts don’t deserve to work with me in the first place.] I rubbed my eyes and wiped my tears hard. Edward, I wanted so much to stand by your side openly and solve cases with you. However, I could no longer do that. At that moment, Edward’s cell phone rang. He answered the phone and sternly scolded, “Madison, come to the station right now. I’m too busy to play the disappearance game with you.” The person on the other end of the line froze for a moment and said awkwardly, “Mr. Blair, your mother’s medical bills for this month have not been paid. We can’t reach Ms. Blair.” Edward opened his mouth, a flash of confusion in his eyes. Then, he said, “Okay, I’ll pay the bill later.” I was the one who went to the hospital every month to pay the bills all the years Nicole was hospitalized for her coma and recuperation. Edward was busy at work, and I made time every week to talk to Nicole and give Nicole a massage. But Emma never visited Nicole once. On the contrary, she would sarcastically say when I went to visit Nicole, “Your mom is fortunate. Why don’t you just pull out her oxygen tube? How pointless to be a vegetable like that!” She had caused Nicole to be like this, and she had the nerve to say such things. I pushed Emma, but Edward bumped into it. He slammed the vase on the table hard on me and scolded, “Madison, are you crazy? How could you do this to Emma? You’re so mean.” Emma deserved a lot of the credit for my relationship with Edward being so bad. Edward hung up the phone and rubbed his temples in annoyance. He complained to Liam, “What’s wrong with Madison? She doesn’t even pay my mom’s hospital bill. What is she fooling around with every day?” Liam gulped and advised, “Edward, Madison isn’t the type of person who would purposely pretend to be missing to fool you. I’m a little worried about her safety.” Edward waved his hand and picked up his work case. “You don’t have to speak for her. Frank and I will go to the crime scene and take another look. Contact me if anything happens.” The men from the trace inspection section were rummaging carefully through the dirt at the crime scene. Suddenly, someone said, “Frank, there’s a new lead here.” Edward was about to go up and check it out, but his phone rang. Liam breathed rapidly and sounded panicked. “Edward, the DNA test results are in. Why don’t you come back to the station?” Edward said helplessly, “I have a new lead over here. Just send the test report to Frank.” Liam held his breath for a moment and slowed his voice. “Edward, the results from the database comparison show that the victim is your sister, Madison.” Edward’s cell phone instantly dropped to the floor.

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At eighteen, I found myself on the muddy bank of the river, tears streaming down my face as students of my mother, Lily Lane, walked massive wolfhounds whose jaws sank into my flesh. Writhing in agony, I dialed my mother’s number, desperate for her to come to my rescue. But when she answered, her voice was as frigid as the winter wind. “My students are all well-behaved,” she sneered, “unlike you, you little liar. You’re always trying to hurt others. “You must have provoked those dogs on purpose. If you get bitten to death, it’ll be your own fault. My innocent student would never do such a thing. Stop pretending to be the victim!” The bitterness between us had been brewing since I was ten. A frantic phone call I made had sent my father, Jason Reed, speeding recklessly down that same road, and his car plunged into the raging river beneath the bridge. His body was never recovered. From that day forward, I became my mother’s greatest enemy. Every year on the anniversary of my father’s death, she would drag me to that same riverbank, forcing me to my knees in a cruel ritual of penance. Years later, after I had been torn apart by those wolfhounds, my father, who had faked his death to escape his debts, returned unscathed. When my mother learned the truth, the shock sent her spiraling into madness. ***** A video suddenly popped up in the teachers’ group chat. In the grainy footage, police officers were photographing a mutilated body in a sandpit. The voiceover, belonging to the math teacher, Max Blake, trembled as he relayed the gruesome rumors. “They say the victim was killed by an animal and then dismembered by the killer. The methods were horrifyingly brutal. What a monster. The poor victim must have suffered immensely.” Lily’s eyes reddened, a look of deep sorrow and pity etching itself onto her face. A bitter sadness surged in my chest, tightening my throat. I thought, “Mom, if you knew it was me who had died, would your heart ache just as much? Probably not. After all, in your eyes, I was always the one who had killed Dad. But, Mom, do you know? It really hurt.” “Yes, the police found the victim’s backpack, but everything inside had been discarded by the killer.” Max passed around a photo of the backpack. Lily glanced at it, her eyes falling on the patchwork of worn-out fabric. She sighed and shook her head. Even as a ghost, I felt my heart ached uncontrollably. I murmured, “Mom, you’ve forgotten, haven’t you? That backpack was my tenth birthday present from you. “Of course, you’ve always seen me as a thorn in your side because of Dad. How could you possibly care about the state of my backpack? “Yet, I carried it with me for eight long years.” As the school bell rang, my spirit was inexplicably drawn to follow Lily into the classroom. When we passed by the first row, where a student was coughing softly, Lily stopped. Her face was etched with concern as she inquired about the student’s well-being. For the first time, I saw the maternal warmth she had never shown me. But that tender expression froze the moment her eyes landed on my empty seat. She snorted, her face twisting with disdain. “Boys and girls, never follow the example of someone who thinks they’re above the rules just because they’ve managed to pull off a few good grades. A troublemaker is a troublemaker. In the end, they’ll only become worthless scum, a stain on society.” The students remained unfazed, having heard such words countless times before. No matter how well I performed academically or how much I contributed to the class, I was always the black sheep in her eyes. In her eyes, I would always be the worst, the most foolish student, the most wicked and vindictive daughter. All that remained was a dull, searing pain, as if my heart had been carved with a blunt blade. I realized then that heartache never becomes easier to bear. As soon as the bell rang to signal the end of class, Lily stormed over to the assistant principal, Michael Smith, urging him to give me a major demerit and announce it to the entire school. She couldn’t wait for another opportunity to humiliate me in front of everyone. Only when Michael nodded in agreement did her face finally break into a rare smile. It was as if the more she hurt me, the lighter her own burden became. Hearing the commotion, George Roberts, the principal, hurried over. His face was filled with concern as he asked, “Samantha has always been well-behaved and obedient. She’s not the type to skip class without reason. Surely something must have happened to her?” “What could happen to a murderer like her? She’s probably just being lazy, dodging class. If something did happen, it’s her own karma.” Lily’s expression darkened. George and Michael exchanged uneasy glances, shaking their heads in silent resignation. I couldn’t help but let out a bitter, ghostly laugh. I murmured, “Mom, it’s not that I didn’t want to come to school. It’s that I no longer had the chance to step through those doors. I was already dead. “And it was you who left me by the riverside last night when I was feverish and vulnerable. That’s where I was tormented and killed by those men. “If this is truly my karma, then I accept it willingly. “But Mom, could you please stop hating me?”

After school, as Lily drove past the narrow alley behind the school, her sharp eyes caught sight of a group of students viciously beating another boy. She screeched to a halt, abandoning the car as she leaped out and forced the attackers away. Without a moment’s hesitation, she helped the injured student into her car and drove straight to the hospital to get the wounds treated and bandaged. When she saw the bruises and cuts, her eyes welled up with tears of compassion. She couldn’t bear to see a child suffer like this. Without wasting a moment, she returned to the school and spent the entire night uncovering the identities of the bullies. The culprits were identified and punished, and the victim was finally safe. As always, the victim and his parents came to thank Lily. They bowed deeply, but Lily simply smiled, brushing it off. “Protecting my students is my duty as a teacher,” she said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. To prevent such incidents in the future, she organized a school-wide anti-bullying seminar. Standing onstage, she passionately denounced the horrors of bullying. To her students, she was a beacon of justice, a guardian angel. But my heart felt as if it had been stabbed by a sharp sword, twisting in an agony I could barely endure. The very person everyone regarded as a peacekeeper chose to side with the tormentors while her own daughter was being humiliated and bullied. Back then, because of the way she singled me out in front of the entire class, I became isolated. The isolation quickly snowballed into full-blown bullying. They would publicly humiliate me, shouting insults and slurs. Tearing up my test papers and flinging my backpack around were daily occurrences. They also pinned things on me that I never did, smearing my reputation and spinning vicious lies just to tear me down. All I could do was endure it in silence, alone. Lily was already worn out from taking care of the other students every day, and I didn’t want to add to her stress. If I could just nail the role of the ideal, dutiful daughter, I believed there was a chance Lily might not loathe me quite so much. But one day, it all escalated. They dragged me into the bathroom and beat me with a mop until I was covered in bruises. I tried my best to hide the injuries, but Lily noticed. “What happened to you?” she asked. At her question, the floodgates of my emotions burst open, and I sobbed as I told her everything. But instead of sympathy, her face twisted into a mask of fury. “You’re lying! I know my students! They’re all kind and innocent. “It’s you who’s the problem! You killed your father, and now you’re trying to ruin my students? Are you trying to spite me? Is that it? “There’s no daughter more wicked than you! Why are you even alive?” Before I could react, her hand flew through the air, and a sharp slap landed on my cheek. I cradled my cheek, where the sting burned, as I tried to explain. I showed her the threatening letters they had left in my locker, hoping the evidence would make her believe me. But she didn’t even glance at them. Instead, she snatched the papers from my hands and tore them to shreds. “Why would they pick on you and not someone else? It’s because you’re the one who’s done something terrible! “You deserve every bit of this, you little monster!” Her words struck me like physical blows, each one cutting deeper than the last. The quiet living room echoed with my sobs. She shot me a look filled with contempt, as though I were nothing more than trash, before she turned on her heel and strode away. My heart shattered into a million pieces. “Mom, can’t you trust me just this once?” I whispered. “Can’t you look at me, really look at me, for once? Yes, it was me. I’m the reason my father is dead. How could I ever think I deserve her sympathy?” Surprisingly, Lily had scheduled me for cleaning duty with the very same group that had given me trouble before. Usually, such tasks were the class president’s domain. “Mom, this wasn’t intentional, right?” I asked. Yet, she turned away from my silent plea, leaving me chilled to the core. “What’s shouting going to do for you?” one of them taunted as we cleaned. “If your own mom has given up on you, who do you think is left to protect you?” “I heard you’re why your dad’s gone. No surprise your mom can’t stand you. She put us on duty together on purpose, didn’t she? Then, we could all get a chance to give you a piece of her mind, huh? She probably wishes we’d beat you to death. It’s just so pathetic. Tell me, what’s the point of you even being alive?”

The pain of the beating was nothing compared to the agony of my shattered heart. Yet, I fought with every ounce of strength I had left, screaming and pleading for help. I thought, “What they were saying about my mother couldn’t be true. Surely, if she heard my cries, she would come running. If she saw the violence with her own eyes, she would finally believe me.” Through my tear-blurred vision, I thought I saw her standing in the doorway. The room fell deathly silent as everyone froze, their hands mid-strike. The empty classroom echoed with my desperate screams. “Mom, save me! Mom, please…” But she only glanced at me coldly as I lay sprawled on the floor, even if my face was covered in blood. Then, without a word, she stepped back and quietly closed the door. I felt my soul go numb. My chest was crushed by the weight of her rejection. I gagged, spitting out a mouthful of blood. The blows rained down harder and faster, but I no longer felt the pain. My body was numb. “Mom, you’re really not going to save me? Is this what you want? For me to die?” I murmured. But I didn’t die that day. I was saved by Selena Chase, who had come looking for me. I was rushed to the hospital with multiple fractures and spent a month bedridden. Lily visited the hospital only once to warn me not to go to the police and cause a fuss. Selena, furious on my behalf, tried to argue. Lily frowned and sharply retorted, “You’re alive, aren’t you? What more do you want? You’re just trying to ruin my reputation and get me fired!” Slamming the door behind her, she walked away, leaving me to wail in silence. It was only when Selena called her father, the school board chairman, that the matter was finally resolved. When I finally pulled myself out of the painful memories, tears were already streaming down my face, and my heart was gripped by an intense, squeezing pain. I suddenly realized I was already back home, following Lily, who frowned in irritation when she couldn’t find me. “That troublemaker still isn’t back? Maybe she’ll just die out there,” she muttered, storming toward the couch. But as she stepped on a stray pill on the floor, her expression changed. She picked it up, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. “She’s probably faking it again,” she scoffed with an eye roll. “Since when does she just ‘happen’ to get feverish?” I let out a bitter laugh. “Mom, don’t you remember? This fever was your doing.” On the anniversary of Jason’s death, I had accidentally knocked over a plate of food. In a fit of rage, Lily had thrown me out of the house, forcing me to stand in the freezing winter wind wearing nothing but thin pajamas. Amidst the howling gales of the north, where thermometers drop to chilling depths, I froze, each breath crystallizing in the air. When she finally opened the door, I thought she had calmed down with joyous surprise. But instead of letting me in, she grabbed me by the arm and dragged me outside. “Today is the day you kneel by the river! Hurry up!” she yelled. Snowflakes fell on my burning forehead, melting instantly. I pushed through the pain as I implored with all the strength I could muster, “Mom, this fever’s killing me. Can I just not go tonight?” “Dream on! You’re a murderer. Even if you’re on your last breath, you’ll kneel by that river!” Despair flooded my heart, and my tears froze on my cheeks. “I see, Mom. I’ll take my medicine and go.” But before I could even reach for the pills, she slapped them out of my hand. “You’re always lying or pretending to be sick. If there’s any justice in this world, you should have died in your father’s place!” she shouted, yanking me by the hair and dragging me to the car. At the riverbank, the icy wind sliced through me like a blade. I could barely stand. With every last shred of my strength, I clung to the car door and pleaded through tears, “Mom, please, don’t leave me. I’ll die…” But her response was a cold, brutal kick that sent me sprawling onto the icy ground. “If you’re going to die, then do it far away from me! I’m done with you. I’m sick of looking at your face!” I lay there in the freezing snow, watching helplessly as her car sped away until it vanished into the distance. I whispered, “Mom, did you really just leave me? “Mom, I’m unwell.” I jolted awake, startled by the furious barking of dogs. The bullies who had once made my life a living hell were now stumbling toward me. Their breath was heavy with the stench of liquor as their faces contorted into vicious smirks. At their side, the dogs growled, their eyes gleaming with a ravenous hunger as they bared their teeth, saliva dripping from their jaws. My hands trembled as I fumbled for my phone, dialing Lily’s number in a desperate plea for help. But all I heard were her cold, accusing words. When the call ended, my heart shattered, sinking into a void. I knew I would never see her again. “Mom, do you even know what this feels like? “The dogs tore into me, and the pain was unbearable. “The river water swallowed me whole, so cold it felt like it was stealing my soul. “Mom, I did as you wished. I’m gone now. I hope you’re happy without me,” I thought. A deafening clap of thunder jolted Lily awake. She glanced out the window at the storm raging outside as the relentless rain pounded against the glass. A flicker of unease crossed her face as she paced nervously around the room. Then, the doorbell rang. “You wretched thing. You still had the audacity to come back…”   When Lily finally made out who it was standing in the doorway, her brow furrowed in annoyance. “Why is it you?” she mumbled. Selena stood there, drenched to the bone, her entire body trembling with urgency. “Is Samantha okay? She hasn’t been to school in three days, and I can’t reach her. Have you heard anything?” Selena was my only friend. Despite being in different classes, we checked in on each other every single day, sharing our studies and our lives. We were inseparable, more like sisters than friends. But Lily turned her head away and muttered, “Who knows where that troublemaker has disappeared to? Probably ran off with some punk.” Selena’s body shook with rage, her fists clenching at her sides. “At a time like this, you’re spreading rumors about your own daughter? Do you even have a heart? “Samantha is cursed to have a mother like you. “You’re not caring about her whereabouts, huh? Fine, I’ll find her myself!” As Selena pulled out her phone to dial 911, Lily lunged forward, snatching the phone from her hand and smashing it onto the ground. “Who said you could butt in?” Lily shouted. “Even if Samantha is dead, it’s her own fault. What right do you have to call the police?” I watched her indifferent face as my heart was heavy with sorrow. Even a friend I’d known for less than half a year was searching for me, yet my mother couldn’t care less about my well-being. I murmured, “Maybe they’re right, Mom. You’ve always wished I was gone. And now, I am, just as you wanted.” Tears mingled with rain on Selena’s cheeks as she screamed in despair, “Lily Lane, you’ll regret this!” Then, she turned and ran back into the storm. I longed to hold my friend to wipe away her tears, but my transparent ghostly form couldn’t touch her. As I stood there, heartbroken and helpless, Lily suddenly fished her phone out of her pocket and started dialing my number. I shook my head and sighed, “My phone is lying at the bottom of a cold river. How could you possibly reach me, Mom?” When no one answered, Lily staggered into the house, and her shoulders slumped. I was bewildered and thought, “Weren’t you supposed to be happy, Mom? Isn’t this what you wanted?” Another frantic knock echoed through the house. Lily, already on edge, yanked the door open irritably. “What now…” Her voice cut off as her eyes landed on the visitor. Her body trembled uncontrollably as she clung to the doorframe for support. I turned, startled, to see who had arrived. Standing in the doorway was the man Lily had pined for all those years and the one who filled me with endless guilt. It was my father who had been “dead” for eight years. He was back, alive.

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After the miscarriage, I lay in the ICU for an entire month. Meanwhile, my husband was off traveling around with his so-called “true love.” It wasn’t until he decided to divorce me that he remembered I existed. He called my mom, demanding to know how long I was going to “keep making trouble”. My mother looked at me, her daughter teetering on the edge of death, and said bitterly, “She won’t bother you anymore. Are you happy now?” ***** I was admitted to the ICU. That same day, the day I lost the baby, I was dying—massive blood loss, organ damage. And the cruelest part? The one who caused all of this was none other than my husband, Dominick Vanderbilt. The day everything went wrong for me was his birthday. I had prepared a table full of his favorite dishes, baked a cake from scratch, and decorated the house to look incredibly romantic. On top of all the designer gifts, I had something special and priceless for Dominick—a gift I’d been waiting years to give. I was pregnant. After five years of trying, we finally had this hard-won miracle. I thought this baby would be a miracle for us—a gift to celebrate his birthday and a lifeline to save our crumbling marriage. That was why I chose his birthday to share the news. I was so sure it would change everything. But when he came home from work, he just quickly changed his clothes and said Madison Blair had been admitted to the hospital and needed someone by her side. Then, without a second thought, he turned to leave again. I grabbed his arm, unable to believe what I was hearing. “Dominick, I worked so hard on this… And I… I have something really important to tell you.” Dominick shook me off and said coldly, “Peyton, Maddy’s in the hospital alone. I have to go.” The warmth drained from my face instantly. Ever since Madison came back into his life, it was like she’d stolen his soul. Madison, the one who got away, his so-called first love, had always held a unique and irreplaceable place in Dominick’s heart. Realizing this, I slowly let my hand drop and asked bitterly, “Dominick, is Madison really that important to you? Is she more important than me?” Dominick shot me an impatient look. “Can you not start with your nonsense right now? Madison saved my life back then. She’s in trouble now; what’s wrong with me helping her out?” He didn’t even wait for me to argue. Instead, he cut me off before I could speak, saying, “Madison and I are clean—nothing has ever happened between us. If you keep doubting me like this, there’s no way we can go on living together.” His gaze turned cold like he was staring at an enemy rather than his wife. Anger boiled inside me, and I reached out to grab Dominick, desperate to stop him. But he shoved me away without hesitation. The door slammed as he walked out, never once looking back. I stumbled and lost my balance, hitting the corner of the table hard before collapsing to the floor. Pain shot through me in waves. I could feel my body trembling uncontrollably before everything went dark. When I woke up again, I was standing—of all places—at the edge of my own hospital bed. I looked down at myself, pale and covered in tubes. My face was expressionless, hollow. It hit me then. When a person hovers between life and death, their unrelenting obsessions can turn into a spirit, forcing them to become a silent spectator of the world they can’t quite leave behind. I wanted to cry but couldn’t. Seeing my mother outside the ward, her hair snow-white after just one night, ripped my heart to shreds. And when I realized Dominick was the one responsible for all of this, that burning sense of injustice pulled me like a magnet—I found myself standing right by his side. Dominick was in another hospital at the time. He sat by Madison’s bedside, his hand wrapped gently around hers, his expression full of worry. “Don’t worry. Just focus on getting better. I’ll take care of everything else.” Madison gave him a weak smile and, using what little strength she had, rested her head on his shoulder. “Dom, I’m so lucky to have you. Without you, I really don’t know what I’d do…” Feeling her dependence, he smiled in satisfaction as though this was exactly where he belonged. Madison nestled closer to him and pouted softly, “But Dom, if you’re always here with me, won’t Peyton get upset?” When Dominick heard my name, his face twisted into a scowl, his voice dripping with disdain. “Who cares? She’s always picking fights for no reason, accusing me of being unfaithful to her and looking for any excuse to argue. Tell me, who could stand living like that? If it comes to it, I’ll just divorce her and be done with it!”

Dominick stayed with Madison until her IV drip was finished and then took her home. I could see that Madison didn’t want him to leave, and honestly, he didn’t seem like he wanted to go either. Madison clung to his arm, looking heartbreakingly fragile. “Dom, I’ve been feeling really down lately. Once I feel better in a couple of days, can you take me out somewhere?” Dominick’s face softened with obvious affection. “Of course I can.” Madison’s father had recently declared bankruptcy due to poor business decisions. She’d gone from the privileged heiress of a wealthy family to someone struggling to get by. Dominick understood her struggles and heartbreak. To make matters worse, her emotional turmoil was taking a toll on her health—she seemed to be in pain all the time, one place hurting today, another tomorrow. It was as if her body couldn’t bear the burden. Dominick only wanted to take care of her. “Maddy, just tell me where you want to go, and I’ll make it happen. You know I have the means to take care of you now.” Madison’s expression lit up with joy. “Thanks, Dom. You have no idea how much that means to me.” I stood there, right in front of them, listening to every word, but all I could do was give a bitter smile. Dominick’s job kept him swamped. When we got married, we didn’t even take a honeymoon. In the five years we’d been together, he never once suggested taking me on a trip. He hardly even had the time to go shopping with me—those moments were rare, painfully so. I understood how hard he worked. So, I never complained and never asked for more. I poured all my energy into being a good wife, taking care of him in every way I could. But what did I get in return? His cold indifference. His absence. I’d tried, I really had, to reignite something between us. I wore makeup, bought beautiful dresses—tried to look the way I thought Dominick might notice. But it was all pointless. Because the moment Madison entered the picture, I stopped existing in his eyes. Every time he abandoned me, abandoned our family, to be with her, I’d pick a fight. I couldn’t help it. And every time, he’d either freeze me out or turn it around, calling me childish and unreasonable. When I was alive, I couldn’t fight him on this. And now, as I hover so close to death, I still can’t. Dominick spent the night at Madison’s place. They didn’t share a bed, but the subtle tension between them had already deepened. The next day, I followed Dominick out. I watched as a man who had always prioritized work spent the entire day on the phone during office hours, meticulously arranging every detail of an extravagant trip. From booking first-class flights to reserving five-star hotels, he handled everything personally, leaving nothing to chance. Once he was done, he happily prepared for the upcoming trip with Madison. It was as if my existence meant nothing to him. He didn’t know my condition—didn’t care to know—and acted as though he’d forgotten I was his wife altogether. While my mother sat by my bedside, crying every night for me, the man I had loved my whole life was off enjoying himself with another woman. I watched as they visited the most popular tourist cities, sampled exotic foods, and Dominick took countless beautiful photos of Madison. Dominick treated her with the utmost respect. He insisted on booking two separate rooms every night and tiptoed around her, careful not to cross any lines. His restraint made it clear—he treasured her. Seeing the constant glow of happiness on Madison’s face, I felt nothing. There wasn’t even a hint of jealousy left in me. I didn’t believe in them. Even if they did end up together, I knew they wouldn’t last. Men like Dominick, who lose interest the moment they get what they want, were incapable of holding onto happiness. I quietly trailed them for a month. When the trip finally ended, Dominick returned home, exhausted and ready to rest. But when he opened the front door, he was greeted by the rotting stench of spoiled leftovers on the dining table and a dark, dried pool of blood on the floor. The house was a wreck. The air reeked of something sour and putrid. Dominick, who had always been a clean freak, turned pale with disgust at the sight. Without a second thought, he pulled out his phone and called me. He didn’t notice my phone sitting dead on the sofa, shut off because the battery had run out days ago. One call. No answer. Two calls. Still nothing. Three calls. Silence. On the fourth call, when it went straight to voicemail, Dominick finally lost his patience. He exploded. “Peyton Reeves! If you want a divorce, just say it. There’s no need for this stupid silent treatment. Look at this place. It’s disgusting! If you have the guts, come back here right now. We’ll go file for divorce immediately!”

Response to Dominick came in the form of cold, lifeless beeps over the line. After a few seconds of stunned silence, he angrily stuffed his phone back into his pocket and stormed out the door again. He went back to Madison’s place. Even though he had been traveling with his beloved for a month, the packed itinerary was beginning to wear on Dominick. When he mentioned wanting to eat, Madison immediately chimed in, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, “I’ll order takeout then. What do you feel like eating, Dom?” For a split second, an almost imperceptible look of distaste flickered across Dominick’s face. Days of eating at restaurants and street stalls had taken their toll—his stomach had been protesting for a while now. Not that Madison would ever notice. But he smoothed out his expression quickly, giving her a doting smile. “Anything’s fine. Just order whatever you like.” I knew what Dominick truly wanted right now—a homemade meal. A refreshing salad and braised beef—the kind that wasn’t overly greasy or rich. Dominick had a sensitive stomach and a strict palate—he liked his food light, with plenty of restrictions. I was the only one who could remember every little detail about what he liked and didn’t like. No scallions, ginger, or garlic. He avoided peanut oil like the plague. He refused organ meats and hated fish with too many bones. I knew which dishes needed a delicate touch and which ones needed to be rich and flavorful. Every detail about his diet, I had it down to a science. Back then, whenever Dominick had been out for days of social engagements, he would always come home with an upset stomach, vomiting, and running to the bathroom for no apparent reason. During those times, all it took was the simplest homemade meal from me to calm his stomach—and his mood—effortlessly. But he never noticed what I did for him—or how much thought I put into it. In his mind, since he was the one making money, since he was the one “providing” for this household, everything I did was just expected. Of course, Madison was different. In Dominick’s eyes, she was a pampered heiress, her hands too precious to ever hold a kitchen knife. The fact that she didn’t cook? Completely normal. Understandable, even. After all, her hands were more valuable than diamonds. When the delivery arrived, I watched him poking around with a fork in the takeout box, hesitating and picking at the food without really eating. Madison asked innocently, “Do you not like this stuff, Dom?” Dominick smiled faintly and shook his head, though a flicker of disappointment still crossed his face. Madison, sharp-eyed, noticed something was off and pressed again. “Dom, it feels like you’re not into these trendy dishes at all. What do you actually like? I’ll order more of that next time.” He then described his preferences as if they were nothing, saying, “I’m not picky. A plain Caesar salad, light braised beef—those are good enough for me.” His tone was casual, but there was something hard to define in his expression. It lingered in his eyes for just a second before disappearing. I wanted so badly to tell Dominick that even a simple Caesar salad and braised beef weren’t as easy to make as he thought. But then again, it didn’t really matter anymore. Whether he knew or not wouldn’t change the fact that I’d already given up on him. He barely ate anything from that meal. Afterward, he cleaned up the takeout containers half-heartedly and took the trash downstairs. I watched as he tossed the bag into the bin and then pulled out his phone again. I watched as Dominick tried calling my phone again. Three times in a row. Each time, the automated voice told him the phone was turned off. Growing frustrated, he became visibly agitated, pacing back and forth while scrolling through his contacts over and over. But he didn’t know a thing about my social circle, nor did he recognize any of my friends. After I quit my job, I’d lost touch with most of my former colleagues, too. When his search turned up nothing, Dominick finally dialed my mom. The moment someone picked up, his frustration boiled over. He demanded furiously, “How long is your daughter planning to keep this up? Tell Peyton this nonsense has to stop. If she keeps acting like this, I’ll divorce her!”   My mom never knew that, in this marriage, I was the one who constantly tolerated Dominick and compromised for him. To stop her from worrying, every time she asked, I always told her over and over, “Mom, don’t worry, I’m really happy. Dominick loves me so much. He’d never let me suffer. Besides, I wouldn’t let myself be mistreated either.” She always believed me without hesitation. But now, faced with this brutal reality, my mom was heartbroken. “Are you even human, Dominick? Your wife’s been lying in the ICU for a month, and not only do you ignore her, but you’re calling this nonsense?” It was the first time I’d ever heard my mother’s voice so sharp and loud. In my memory, my mom had always been gentle, a little timid even. But now, this woman—my mother—was standing up against the world for me, her voice fierce and cutting. “Dominick, you heartless bastard! You don’t deserve my daughter!” Dominick looked stunned, caught off guard by the verbal assault. But he quickly snapped back, his anger flaring, “Stop spouting this nonsense, you old hag! How the hell could Peyton be in the ICU for a month? Isn’t it enough for her to stir up trouble on her own? Now she’s dragging you into it, too? This is ridiculous!” For a second, I caught a flicker of disbelief on his face. But beneath that was contempt, doubt, and sheer annoyance. It was at this moment I finally realized just how cruel and cold a man could be. My mom, enraged by Dominick’s heartless words, screamed back at him, her voice cracking, “Dominick, even if my daughter dies and becomes a ghost, she won’t forgive you. And not just her—if I die, I’ll come back as a vengeful spirit and haunt you too!” Dominick’s hand clenched his phone so tightly his knuckles turned white, the veins in his neck bulging. “Shut up! Peyton can’t be dead! Tell her to get out here and face me. If she’s gonna die, she better divorce me first.”

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A video was shared on my husband’s Instagram account, in which he was drinking wine with his first love in a bar as they gazed fondly at each other. Having not eaten for a day, I put down the diaper I just changed for Erica’s mother and looked at the dirty dishes in the kitchen. I took some rest on the sofa, and the baby in my belly protested for food. Staring at my phone for a while, I gave a thumbs up to that picture and commented: [You’re made for each other.] Suddenly, I received a call from my husband, and as soon as I answered, he yelled at me, “That was only a game. Why are you making a fuss over it?” “Fine, I hope you can really be a couple,” I thought to myself. “Of course, they are made for each other. Thank god you know that.” Erica Linch’s friend, Henry Zander, replied to me unceremoniously in the comments. His point was obvious. Without seeing him in person, I could feel the contempt and disdain in his tone. Erica probably didn’t block anyone from seeing this post. All of his friends, including those I had never met or only met a few times, could see it. They might be laughing in front of the screen, or perhaps discussing it privately, imagining the awkwardness and insecurity I, Erica’s wife, feel when I said in the comments that my husband and someone else were a perfect match. They say that the way your husband treats you reflects how his friends treat you. At that moment, I had a deeper understanding of that saying. Erica probably didn’t show the respect and care I deserved in front of them. With these thoughts, an indescribable sense of suffocating pain subtly rose in my heart. They all seemed to agree tacitly that Ann Yates was more suitable for Erica. And I, the woman who had been married to Erica for many years had never been able to bear him a child, seemed to have been quietly excluded from this circle. I had sacrificed so much for this family ever since we got married. Both our parents urged me to get pregnant soon. I had no choice but to temporarily resign from the job I loved and focus entirely on getting pregnant. At the same time, I needed to take care of Erica’s parents, fulfilling my duty as his wife. However, being unemployed made me doubt my worth more than ever. I graduated from a prestigious university with a bright career outlook and my own dreams and pursuits. But I allowed myself to give up my career and dreams and become a housewife for the sake of a man. That was completely different from the ambition and aspirations I had when I first graduated. I rarely met Erica’s friends, not because I didn’t want to go, but because I knew that I wasn’t welcomed in that circle. On the one hand, Erica didn’t really want to take me. On the other hand, I felt that I wasn’t the same kind of person as his friends. That video further confirmed this point. Thinking like this, I felt utterly worn out, not knowing what my efforts over the years had truly brought me. I couldn’t help but feel confused, not knowing if my persistence in this marriage still held any meaning. Just then, there was a soft click from the fingerprint lock outside the door, and Erica had returned. He was taken aback to see that the living room light was still on. Then, his gaze fell on me sitting on the sofa. He must have remembered the video earlier, and upon seeing my impassive face, he started to explain, which was truly surprising to me, “About that video, we were only playing a game to welcome Ann back. She lost the truth-or-dare, and those guys were all my friends. She couldn’t do that with other guys, so I helped her out and drank with her.” His tone carried a hint of helplessness, as if that really wasn’t a big deal. I twitched my lips and looked up at him with sarcasm and disappointment in my eyes. “You were only helping her out? Erica, we didn’t even have a toast when we got married back then. And those so-called friends of yours, each one of them looks like they’re attending a funeral.” My words inevitably carried a hint of sharpness and bitterness. I vented the long-suppressed emotions in my heart. Instantly enraged, Erica widened his eyes and shouted with a trembling voice, “Lola Harrison! Can you stop being unreasonable?! How could you say that?!” I looked into his eyes, and just thinking about the ambiguous atmosphere between them at that time and his friend’s comments made me feel a wave of nausea. I took a deep breath and said decisively, “You sleep in the living room. I don’t want to be in the same room with you.” Unexpectedly, that touched Erica’s sore spot, and he suddenly spoke angrily. “Fine, Lola, whatever!”

I met Erica in middle school, fell in love with him in high school, and had known him for seven years. I lived next door to him when I was a child. When I first moved in, I knew nobody knew, and I was terrified. It was Erica who leaned over from the other side of the wall, smiled, and spoke up, “Hello, my name is Erica Linch! What is your name?” Since then, we often went home together after school. In middle school, we took the school bus together, and as we got older, we rode bikes together. I had always known a girl named Ann Yates, who was Erica’s childhood sweetheart. Later, due to her parents’ work, she moved abroad, and I moved in afterward. These had never been a secret between Erica and me. One evening after self-study during our sophomore year in high school, Erica handed me a big bouquet on my way home, his eyes sparkling. He asked me if I wanted to be his girlfriend. I still remember that feeling of excitement, as if I would never like someone that much again in my life. I was touched by Erica and got together with him. Later, I even moved away from my hometown to get into the university that he attended. I simply devoted all my youth to Erica. Later, we went to college together. After Erica graduated from college, he started his own business, and it was really a tough road. During the bottleneck period of his career, I stayed by his side, caring for him and encouraging him. I was always there, helping him to get out of whack. After going through a career crisis, he proposed to me. I always thought of myself as the happiest woman, even though Erica had never wanted me to meet his friends over the years and even though his friends didn’t particularly like me. They only liked Ann. The issue about Ann was like a time bomb. No one knew when it would break out. It seemed that it wouldn’t go off at all. It would only gnaw my heart until no feeling was left in it for Erica. Thinking of this, I touched my belly where the late-arriving baby was with pity. I had always wanted to have a baby, and I didn’t expect him to arrive at this moment. But I was grateful that he came at this time. If he had come a bit earlier, I wouldn’t have had so much courage. Instead, I would have had a lot of concerns as my belly started to show. I really couldn’t bear to let my child be born into an unhappy family. It was enough for me to be unhappy. It seemed that having an abortion was the only option for me. I made an appointment for the abortion procedure that very evening. I knew I would probably be sleepless all night, so I went to the kitchen to heat some milk. Erica was in the guest room, and when he saw me come out of the main bedroom with a terrible look, he asked, “Are you calm? You’re really a piece of work now, Lola.” Hearing this, I hesitated on whether to tell him the news, but suddenly Erica’s phone rang. The caller ID showed it was Ann. Erica almost immediately picked it up. “Hello? Ann, what’s wrong?” Ann deliberately lowered her voice on the other end of the phone and then spoke, “Erica, I suddenly have a stomachache. Can you come over?” I heard it clearly, and then I watched as Erica responded, “Coming right up.” He didn’t even look at me. He just picked up his coat and was about to leave. “Erica.” I suddenly called out to him, ready to give him one last chance. “Stay and have some food with me. Don’t go.” Erica was slightly taken aback, then furrowed his brows. He thought I didn’t hear Ann’s voice on the other end of the phone. So, he still tried to deceive me. “You know my company needs me. Why are you throwing a tantrum here? Without my company, you wouldn’t even be able to afford food. “Lola, I don’t have time right now. If you want to eat, go ahead. If not, that’s fine. Don’t forget to see my parents tomorrow.” The door slammed shut with a bang, and I felt disheartened. Before long, a message notification chimed in on the phone. It was Ann. She sent me a photo on purpose. In the photo, two people were holding hands, and the man was wearing a ring on his ring finger. It was the same as the one in my hand.

At that moment, I felt utterly despondent, as everything I did seemed absurd in the eyes of others. With Erica’s departure, the once spacious home instantly felt empty, as if the air had solidified, emanating a faint chill that pierced deep into my heart. I suddenly realized that I had never truly regarded this place as my home, and in my heart, I even faintly rejected this cage. The following day, I woke up early and went to the hospital for an abortion. The doctor had probably long been accustomed to pregnant women like me who had no family accompanying them and just coldly instructed, “Sign here, then go wait in the hallway. A nurse will take you to change into the surgical gown shortly.” I pursed my dry lips and nodded, feeling a sharp pain in my heart, and my eyes involuntarily turned red. Only then did the doctor notice my emotions. She sighed deeply, her tone carrying a hint of helplessness, “At this stage, it’s just a fertilized egg. Don’t put too much pressure on yourself. “If you regret it now, it’s still not too late. However, I must remind you that since you can come here, it must be the choice you made after weighing the pros and cons.” I took a deep breath, trying to calm my emotions, and nodded firmly, “Yes, thank you, doctor. I’ve made my decision.” While I was paying, I unexpectedly ran into Erica and Ann at the corner of the hospital. I didn’t know what they were doing in the gynecological department. Although I had doubts in my mind, I didn’t intend to speculate. I was just about to turn around and walk past them when Erica noticed me. He seemed surprised. “Lola? What are you doing here?”

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Sadie Bailey’s friend was getting married, and even though I was pregnant, my boyfriend, Waylon Powell, insisted that I attend the wedding just because Sadie said it would be nice for me to see the ceremony and get prepared for my own wedding. During the wedding, the groom raised a toast. Sadie encouraged me to take a drink, saying, “Eloise, there are so many guests here. Just let loose a little!” I declined, and Sadie ended up drinking a glass on my behalf. I noticed Waylon’s expression darken suddenly. As the wedding festivities were winding down, Waylon pulled me aside, his voice tight with anger. “Why aren’t you playing along? Stop pretending!” He pinched my chin and forced me to drink half a bottle of wine before kicking me out of the room, claiming I was ruining the fun. I ended up vomiting all over the floor and blacked out by the roadside. When I woke up, I was naked, and my lower body was covered in blood. My child was gone, and I no longer wanted anything to do with Waylon. My entire body throbbed with pain. I felt cold and utterly drained. As I slowly opened my eyes, I realized I was in an alley. A cold gust of wind swept through, causing me to shiver involuntarily. That was when it struck me—I was naked. Panic surged through me as I trembled in disbelief. I glanced down and saw bruises littering my skin. My lower body was smeared with blood. In an instant, fear gripped me. I touched my stomach—the child I had carried was lifeless now. He had even kicked me yesterday. I burst into tears and called an ambulance with all my strength before succumbing to exhaustion and passing out. When I opened my eyes again, I was on a stretcher in a hospital. Doctors and nurses rushed toward the operating room; their faces etched with sympathy. Upon seeing that I was awake, the doctor leaned in quickly. “Hello, you’re in critical condition and need immediate surgery. Has a family member arrived? They need to sign.” My lips were parched, and it took me a moment to find my voice. “No, I’ll sign myself.” The doctor nodded, quickly instructing the other staff to prepare for the operation. As the operating lights flickered on, I couldn’t help but smile bitterly. Waylon, how could you do this to me? Because of his promise of a grand wedding once he became successful, I devoted myself to him over the years and even had a child before marriage. And this was my reward? All those sacrifices were for nothing. The operation went smoothly, but when I opened my eyes, the doctor wore a look of regret. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Crawford, your child…” I shut my eyes, feeling a wave of sorrow. “I understand,” I croaked. Tears streamed down my face. Even though I had braced myself for this moment, the grief was overwhelming. The doctor and nurses rushed to comfort me, but their words were hollow. This child had meant everything to both Waylon and me. When he first learned I was pregnant, he had taken such good care of me. But after his memorable crush, Sadie, came back, everything changed within months. Feelings could shift so quickly. He disregarded my pregnancy and chose to get me drunk for Sadie’s sake. The doctor called the police after my incident. When I woke up, they showed me their badges and asked, “Ms. Crawford, do you remember where the incident occurred and where you woke up last night?” I briefly closed my eyes, grappling with a splitting headache, but managed to recall a few images and tentatively mentioned the street and the alley. As the officers left, I overheard one of the younger ones muttering in the hallway, “She drank while pregnant! She’s so reckless. Now, the baby is gone. She…” “Shut up! She’s the victim! Remember what I told you?” an older officer scolded, and their footsteps faded away. Infused with sadness, I deserved it. And I also deserved it for falling for a man like Waylon. Suddenly, my phone buzzed on the bedside table. It was Waylon. I answered the call, and he immediately questioned, “Eloise Crawford, where are you?”

When I fell silent, Waylon began to berate me. “I just let you have a little wine, and now you think you can just storm off in a huff? You’re pregnant and still out everywhere. Do you even care about me or this child?” I felt utterly drained and said slowly, “Waylon, so you knew I was pregnant. Why did you make me drink?” Waylon appeared taken aback by the hoarseness in my voice. Before he could respond, Sadie interjected, pretending to sound remorseful, “Eloise, I knew you left because of this. It’s all my fault. I thought your pregnancy was stable, so I suggested you have some wine. I didn’t expect…” Waylon cut her off with a sharp tone. “Sadie, this isn’t on you. It’s all Eloise’s fault. I’ve never seen a pregnant woman run off after just a little drinking. She’s too fragile!” His momentary concern for my weak voice vanished in an instant. As I listened to him, I felt calm, and my eyes grew vacant. Then, Waylon took the phone and commanded with a harsh tone, “Eloise, no matter where you are, get back here immediately and apologize to Sadie. She’s just a girl. How can she handle your cruelty?” She couldn’t handle it? Just a girl? I was actually six months younger than Sadie. I pondered for a moment, realizing it wasn’t about age—it was clear he no longer loved me. Waylon’s frustration grew as he noticed my silence. In all the years we’ve been together, this was probably the first time that I have been so ‘rebellious’ in his eyes, and it infuriated him. “Eloise! Are you deaf?” he shouted. Since Sadie returned, I have fought with him over his lack of attention. Every time we argued about Sadie, he accused me of being petty and maliciously speculating about their relationship. He would even storm out, slamming the door behind him. And Sadie’s Instagram would happen to have some provocative updates, which she clearly intended for me to see. “No,” I replied flatly. Moments later, Sadie sent me a short video of herself in revealing clothing, with someone showering in the bathroom. When I recognized it was Waylon instantly, she quickly deleted the message and followed up with a voice one: [Sorry, Eloise, I sent that by mistake. You didn’t see it, right?] I calmly listened to her feigned apology while thinking about her blatant provocation. I brought my phone close to my mouth and smiled, replying: [I saw it. Have fun.] Sadie didn’t reply, but I knew she had read my message. The operation and the emotional toll had left me completely exhausted. After a night’s rest, I was jolted awake the next day by a loud commotion. “Sir! You can’t come in! The patient needs to rest! Sir!” “I’m here to see my girlfriend! Which department are you from?” As I opened my eyes, I saw Waylon shoving the nurse aside and storming into the ward. His expression shifted from shock at my pale face to a sneer. “I was wondering where you disappeared to. Turns out you’re here!”

I frowned and was surprised at how he had managed to find me so quickly. Then it hit me—I had used his bank card to settle the hospital bill last night. Just then, I heard the sound of high heels clicking down the corridor. It was Sadie, stepping in with a flawless appearance and perfectly done makeup. Upon spotting me, she feigned concern, asking, “Eloise, what’s going on? Why didn’t you tell Waylon and me that you were admitted?” Before Sadie could finish her sentence, Waylon pulled her closer to him. He studied me for a moment. Perhaps it was the thick comforter that concealed the reality, and he scoffed, “Sadie, don’t bother with her. She’s just putting on a show. That pale face of hers is just a ploy to get my attention. She’s perfectly fine.” “Really, Waylon? But I think she…” Sadie acted surprised, with her expression kind yet insincere. Waylon looked at me with disdain, probably comparing me to Sadie and deciding I was even more vicious. “It can’t be alcohol poisoning. She used to be a good drinker. She can’t fool me.” I closed my eyes, recalling the early days of Waylon’s business when he had business dinners everywhere, and I accompanied him. I was never much of a drinker, but every time I saw those powerful bosses making things difficult and making him drink, I couldn’t help but take a few shots on his behalf. I would often end up vomiting in private, suffering countless nights of embarrassment and stomach pain. I never confessed to him. I didn’t want to add to his stress. I accepted that I had bad luck and had spent the past five years with a jerk. After this ordeal, I had learned my lesson. From now on, I was done having feelings for Waylon. “What’s your next act? Just wrap it up. Then let’s go home and stop embarrassing yourself here. So childish!” Waylon said dismissively. At that moment, a voice boomed from outside the door, “Who’s here?” I immediately realized that the earlier conflict must have prompted the nurse to go straight to the director. Waylon and Sadie froze momentarily, and he sneered, “Eloise, you even hired actors for this. Quite generous of you.” The director entered, visibly angry, and the nurse chimed in, “Actors? Who are you? Please leave and don’t disturb the patient. She just had an abortion yesterday and needs to rest!” “Yeah, right. Eloise, you should at least make your act more convincing…” Waylon scoffed, casting a casual glance at the director before turning back to me. Just as he was about to continue, he caught sight of the comforter I had lifted, revealing my flat belly. I cut him off coldly. “Waylon, is this convincing enough?” He paused, momentarily stunned, even caught mid-sentence with his mouth agape, looking ridiculous. In the next instant, his body shook with disbelief, and he finally panicked. “Eloise, did you have an abortion?”

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I was hospitalized for a week because of my miscarriage. Before I was discharged from the hospital, Zach finally showed up. Melanie was beside him, holding his arm intimately, and said shyly, “Winona, Zach is going to hold a celebration party for me tonight to celebrate my pregnancy. You must come! After all, I can get pregnant thanks to Zach’s help.” Seeing that I didn’t say anything, Zach said impatiently, “You lost your baby, and you don’t allow Melanie to get pregnant? “Winona, how can you become so vicious? “No matter what, you must be there tonight!” That night, I attended the banquet in mourning clothes, which surprised everyone. “You continue. My husband successfully donated sperm to Melanie, and I am commemorating my baby. I won’t affect you.” When I walked into the banquet hall holding my baby’s portrait, the whole audience was silent. Everyone consciously made way for me. Melanie’s friend boldly stopped me and asked, “Who are you? Melanie and her husband are celebrating their three-month pregnancy. What do you mean by dressing like this? ” I ignored her, turned around, asked the workers to put the signboards and wreaths in place, and said loudly, “It’s not easy for Melanie to get pregnant, and it is even harder for my husband. “Zach worked hard for three months to make his friend’s widow pregnant and accompanied Melanie every day to have a baby. Even when I had a miscarriage at five months pregnant, he didn’t come to the hospital to see me. What a great love! I’m really moved by them.” The signboards were printed with Zach’s records of donating sperm to Melanie, as well as their intimate photos. The hall was immediately in chaos. “Oh my God. Such explosive news? So they are not a couple?” The commotion in the front hall quickly attracted the two of them. Melanie nestled in Zach’s arms and cried. “Winona, I just want a child. Do you have to slander me and Zach like this? I understand that you are in a bad mood because you lost your baby, but it’s not my fault. You are going too far!” Zach wiped her tears with a look of pity and looked up at me with disapproval in his eyes. “Winona, you’ve been pregnant before, and you know how hard it is to be pregnant. How could you provoke her like this? “Melanie has given so much for this child, and you treat her like this. You’re so vicious! “Melanie’s husband is like a brother to me. Now that he’s gone, it’s only natural for me to take care of Melanie. You should apologize to Melanie!” I sneered, “If her husband knew his wife was pregnant with his friend’s child, he would probably be furious. Zach, did your good friend who died early know that she was your first love?” After I finished speaking, Zach looked guilty. He argued evasively. “Winona, everything is a misunderstanding. It’s good that you vent it out. Stop making trouble. Just go home, and I’ll be with you tonight, okay?” After that, he turned around and asked people to remove the signboards and explained to the guests. “My wife just had a miscarriage. She was in a bad mood and said the wrong thing. Don’t misunderstand her. Sorry to bother you.” He defined my behavior with just a few simple words. I pushed his hand away and said coldly, “Since the gift has been delivered, I will not disturb you three. Remember to tell Melanie to be careful. Don’t be locked in the kitchen and have a miscarriage like me!”

Zach chased after me. Before he could speak, a woman’s delicate voice cried out in pain behind him. “Zach, don’t worry about me. Go comfort Winona.” Zach struggled for a second. “Winona, be good. Melanie is having a hard time because of her pregnancy. Go home.” Then he went back, picked up Melanie, and ran towards the elevator, looking panicked. “Get out of the way!” He pushed me away. The pain in my lower abdomen reminded me that my husband once again chose to hurt me for another woman. The elevator door slowly closed in front of me, but I didn’t miss the flash of pride and malice in Melanie’s eyes. I went home. The dining table was full of pregnancy books, and every page was carefully marked. The notebook next to the book recorded every detail of the precautions for pregnant women at every stage. This love was for me before Melanie asked Zach to donate sperm to her. The latest note was yesterday, which read: [Winona’s miscarriage scared Melanie. I have to pay attention to Melanie’s mood these days.] [Melanie wants to invite Winona to the party. I need to pay special attention to Winona tomorrow and don’t let her make trouble.] [Melanie wants to eat Meatball. Remember to ask Winona to make it for her tomorrow.] I was the protagonist of this note before. Zach recorded the growth of our baby and was looking forward to the baby. But now, he was only looking forward to Melanie’s child. I suddenly thought of the day when I had a miscarriage. Melanie showed off to me excitedly with the prenatal examination report. “Winona, Zach went through a lot to donate sperm for me. You have to take good care of him.” Zach looked at her with a doting face and ordered me to make soup for her. “Make something nutritious for Melanie. She is only three months pregnant. You need to take good care of her.” I couldn’t stop nausea and vomiting because of the smell in the kitchen. But no matter how I begged, Zach ignored me. He locked the kitchen door and said condescendingly, “Be good. You are also a pregnant woman. How can you have no empathy? Don’t come out before you finish.” Halfway through the dish, I felt severe abdominal pain and begged him to let me go to the hospital. But he threw me a bottle of expired anti-inflammatory medicine. “Don’t pretend, Winona. Take medicine if you are sick. Don’t disturb me and Melanie.” Melanie turned up the speakers to the maximum and pestered Zach to dance with her. Thinking of this, I wiped my tears, called the lawyer, and made an appointment for a divorce consultation the next day.

The next morning, Zach came home reeking of perfume. He hugged me from behind and whispered, “Baby, don’t be sad. We will have kids again. The most important thing now is that you recover as soon as possible and then take care of Melanie with me.” He coaxed me with a soft voice. “I bought you your favorite soup. Drink some.” In Zach’s eyes, I was someone who could be coaxed with a bowl of soup. He hurt me and then coaxed me. Zach knew this well over the years. But I was really tired. I pushed him away with nausea. “I just had a miscarriage because of Melanie, but you held a banquet to celebrate her pregnancy and asked me to take care of her. Zach, do you really think you are right?” He was stunned for a moment, and then his expression changed. “Winona, this is your attitude? I bought you breakfast early in the morning and came back to coax you, and you talked to me like this?” His cell phone suddenly lit up, and a nursery rhyme sounded. That was the exclusive ringtone he had set for Melanie. “Baby, if you’re not hungry, take some rest.” Zach left in a hurry with his phone. The door closed heavily, and the room fell into silence. The door panel was not soundproof, and the sound of him singing nursery rhymes to Melanie pierced my heart like countless knives. Before I was about to leave, Zach had just hung up the phone. Seeing that I was going out, he asked in confusion, “Where are you going? Melanie wants to eat cake. You can stop by the store in the West District to buy one cake. If you want to eat, buy two cakes.” I pressed the door handle, turned back, and said calmly, “Zach, let’s get a divorce.” He frowned and sighed, rubbing his temples. “Are you done? If you have anything to say, wait until you come back with the cake. Come back quickly. Melanie will be anxious if she waits for a long time.” I raised my voice and repeated it again. “I said I want a divorce.” Zach finally took my words seriously. He looked me up and down for a long time with a scrutinizing look in his eyes. “You are controlled by estrogen now. I understand you are in a bad mood. But you have to be rational. Do you know what you are saying?” The grievances that I have suppressed for a long time could no longer be held back; I slammed the door and yelled, “Rational? Your wife had a miscarriage caused by your mistress, and you went to celebrate your mistress’s pregnancy. Is this rational? Zach, you’ve gone too far!” He felt embarrassed after I said it. He pointed at my nose with his eyes wide open and scolded me, “Winona, are you crazy? Melanie is my friend’s wife, and I just helped her out of pity. Watch your mouth!” Then Zach raised his hand and slapped me hard. I was caught off guard and bumped into the door. My back hit the door lock, and cold sweat ran down my face. “Baby!” Zach looked at his hand with some regret and hurried over to help me up. “I’m sorry, Baby. I lost control.” I stood up against the wall, my heart aching. “Don’t touch me! ” Zach was a little embarrassed with his hands freezing in air. He moved his fingers slightly and then retracted them. “You rest at home. I’ll go buy cakes.” After he left, I removed the memory card of the surveillance camera in the living room and called the police.

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