Category: English

When my billionaire parents chose the fake heiress once again and refused to visit me in the hospital, I finally gave up. “System,” I whispered, “let the cancer cells spread. I’m ready to leave this body.” As my soul drifted away, I heard them talking. “If Serena hadn’t warned us, I wouldn’t have known our biological daughter was faking an illness just for attention! How low can she get?” “Let’s not contact her for a few months. She needs to learn her lesson. Maybe then she’ll finally start behaving.” Behaving? Too bad I’m already dead. 1 The hospital walls were too white. So white they made my eyes ache. I sat by the window where a sliver of sunlight managed to peek through, yet I couldn’t shake the freezing chill that wrapped around my bones. “Miss Sterling, please lie down. It’s time for your IV.” My private nurse pushed the door open, her voice soft and careful. It was strange. I was the biological daughter of the richest man in the city. I was in a premier VIP suite. So why was there such deep pity in her eyes when she looked at me? “Nurse Thompson, did you tell my parents the biopsy results?” Her hand faltered for a second, nearly missing the vein. She offered me a weak, forced smile. “Don’t worry. Even though the tumor is malignant, we caught it early. With surgery and two rounds of chemo, you’ll recover.” “Don’t be afraid.” I nodded, then repeated my question, more urgent this time. “But… did you notify my parents?” Nurse Thompson opened her mouth, then closed it, looking like the words were stuck in her throat. I understood. There was no way she hadn’t told them. It was just that they chose not to come. Before leaving, she tried to cheer me up. “Don’t lose heart. The cancer hasn’t metastasized yet. Your condition is very treatable.” I forced a smile but said nothing. The cancer hadn’t spread yet, but when I transmigrated into this body, I came with a “System” mission. If I couldn’t win over my parents’ love, my only ending was death. I leaned greedily toward the patch of sunlight. This cancer was the System’s countdown timer. If things continued like this—I was truly running out of time. 2 The original owner of this body was the true heiress of the Sterling family. She had been switched at birth due to a hospital error and grew up in a middle-class family. It wasn’t until she turned 18, just a year ago, that she was finally found. At first, I thought this System mission would be easy. What parents wouldn’t love their own child? But after coming home, I realized how cruel reality could be. There was another “Miss Sterling” in the house, born on the exact same day as me. The fake heiress: Serena. Initially, my parents were wonderful. They cried while holding me, calling me their “precious girl” in every breath. Within three months, I had successfully won them over. I was the apple of their eye. I even charmed the grandparents and extended family. Of course, I also managed to dodge Serena’s constant, petty traps. Until one day, she pulled me close with a sisterly grin to show me around. “Maya, look. This is Dad’s private wine cellar.” “Every bottle here is priceless. You have to be extremely careful.” I never touched that room. But a month later, my parents went to Serena’s parent-teacher conference. When they returned, Serena looked at me, smiled, and threw herself into the custom wine rack. The entire unit toppled. With a deafening crash, it shattered at my feet. Glass shards pierced my soles, drawing blood. The wine soaked my clothes, stinging my open wounds with a blinding pain. But a second later, Serena was the one screaming. “Dad! Mom!” “Serena! What happened?” My parents, arriving a few steps late, were stunned by the wreckage. I stood in the middle of the glass, frozen. Serena pointed at me, sobbing. “Maya was jealous because you went to my conference today.” “She pushed me. I hit the rack, and it just… it all fell…” I found out later that the wine on that wall was worth as much as a luxury villa. 3 That was the fifth month after I returned home. My father slapped me, hard. He did it because Serena had dropped to her knees in the middle of the wreckage right in front of them. She looked up with tear-filled eyes. “Maya, Mom and Dad still love you most. They just went to my school for an hour.” “I don’t want to fight with you. If you hate what happened in the past, hate me, but please don’t blame Mom and Dad. We’re all victims here.” “If you really can’t stand me, I’ll leave!” I watched her one-woman show in shock. Before I could even open my mouth to defend myself, the slap landed. Then came my father’s roar. “Maya! Is this how your foster parents raised you?” “You act so sweet to Serena in front of us, but you’re a monster behind our backs. You’ve deeply disappointed me.” I tried to explain, but no one listened. Because Serena’s knees were shredded by the glass. My father scooped her up and rushed her to the hospital. I was left to limp out of the glass in my slippers, one agonizing step at a time. I treated my own wounds in my room, gritting my teeth against the pain. When Serena returned, both her knees were wrapped in thick bandages. My parents flanked her, supporting her every move while treating me with nothing but cold glares. “Maya, go to your room and reflect on what you’ve done.” “Serena might not be our biological daughter, but we raised her for 18 years. Do you think that bond just disappears?” “Don’t think we don’t love you. It’s because we love you that we can’t let you become this twisted! We have to correct you!” I tried to speak, but the pain in my feet made me gasp for air. “Maya, stop the act.” “You were wearing slippers earlier. We both saw it.” I knew words were useless, so I retreated to my bedroom. But because of the pain, I couldn’t help but limp. In their eyes, even my pain was just another act of defiance. 4 Serena was willing to hurt herself just to turn them against me. Gradually, in their eyes, I became a person who would do anything to get what I wanted. The three of them were always together, leaving me alone at home. Their excuse? “It’s to build your character and teach you tolerance.” That was when the System’s punishments began. The data showed that my parents’ hearts were tilting further and further toward Serena. Desperate to save my failing health, I tried to fight back once. I got into a physical altercation with a girl at school who was insulting me. We both ended up bruised; I had a split lip. My parents rushed to the school. That was one of the few times I felt their love. “Maya, what happened? Does it hurt?” “Sweetie, she’s so much bigger than you. Why would you fight her?” My mother stroked my hair, her eyes full of heartbreak. My father stood in front of me, berating the principal for the lack of supervision. “Mom, I’m okay.” With red eyes, I let her pull me into her arms. See? They still love me. But then, Serena arrived. In front of everyone, she looked at me with a look of pure, feigned disbelief. “Maya… did you lie and pick a fight just to get Mom and Dad’s attention?” With just one sentence, their faces changed. They didn’t defend me anymore. They just turned and walked away. I touched my stinging lip. It was the other girl who had started it, calling me the “unwanted daughter.” To prove my innocence, I convinced the girl I fought to testify for me. I even asked my teacher to come home with us. “Mr. Sterling, we cleared it up. It really wasn’t Maya’s fault.” But my parents only looked at me with utter exhaustion. “Maya Sterling, have you really stooped to this level just to maintain a lie?” Their tone was ice-cold. In my mind, the System’s alarm bells began to shriek. 5 From that point on, my health plummeted. But I stopped fighting. No matter how badly I was hurt, Serena could erase it all with a single, casual comment, and I would end up as the villain again. I lay in bed and whispered to the System. “System, when can I go back to my own world?” The System’s voice was low, sounding almost empathetic to my struggle. “Finish the mission, or die.” I was silent for a long time. I had thought about it… If I die, I die. But I really wanted to go home. Lately, afraid I would “hurt” their precious foster daughter, my parents kept me on house arrest. At first, they visited me every day. But the look in their eyes was always a mess of complicated emotions, always ending with the same question: “Maya, do you admit you were wrong?” I shook my head stubbornly. Wrong about what? After asking enough times, they lost their patience. When I finally collapsed at home and was rushed to the hospital, they were away on vacation. They didn’t even bother to check on me. Instead, they sent a text: “Maya, come home when you’re ready to admit your mistakes.” “We won’t enable this behavior anymore.” I laughed. From start to finish, what was my crime? Oh, I knew. My crime was that I wasn’t good enough to earn their favoritism. Did they love me? I guess the only way to find out was to die. 6 I was diagnosed with stomach cancer. The nurse told me not to lose hope; early-stage stomach cancer was very treatable. But I just stared at the ceiling, watching my life’s countdown. I lived alone in that massive VIP suite. It was so quiet I could hear my own heartbeat. My only companion was the System I had grown to both love and hate. “Maya, do you think they’re really not coming?” I leaned against the headboard, my eyes vacant. “Probably.” “They don’t even believe I’m sick. They wouldn’t even believe the doctor.” The System sighed. I just smiled. Good. It’s better to give up early. After a moment of silence, the System tried one last time. “Call them.” “Otherwise, even if you have the surgery, the cancer will metastasize rapidly.” I bit my lip and dialed the number. But—Serena was the one who picked up. Compared to my hollow, weak voice, she sounded incredibly vibrant. “Maya? What is it?” “Are you looking for Dad? Hang on, he’s out surfing.” The System: “What? His daughter is dying and he’s surfing?” “That’s impossible.” I listened silently to the sound of the waves on the other end. Daughter? In their hearts, they only ever had one daughter: Serena. 7 I waited ten full minutes before my father finally got on the line. But before I could even say “Dad,” his stern voice boomed through the speaker. “Maya, have you finally realized you were wrong?” I let out a bitter, silent laugh. I guess the “jealous brat” label would only be washed away once I was in the ground. “Maya, enough of the drama. Admit you were wrong and come home.” “You’re going too far now, actually making the hospital staff call your mother. Do you have any idea how close she came to a panic attack? If Serena hadn’t seen through your little game, we would have been worried sick!” I opened my mouth, but the words were choked in my throat. Seeing my silence, his tone softened slightly. “Maya, as long as you come home and apologize, you’re still our daughter.” Our daughter… I whispered, “Dad, what if I’m actually sick?” There was a long pause on the other end. Then I heard Serena’s voice in the background: “Sigh. Dad, Maya just won’t change, will she?” “EXACTLY!” My father’s rage exploded. “Maya Sterling! Who taught you to be such a pathological liar?!” The line went dead. This time, even the System was silent. The sun moved to the west, and the light vanished from my room. Why? Was the love and guilt they showed me six months ago all an act? Maybe because I was too quiet, the System whispered a warning: “A negative mood isn’t conducive to recovery.” I grinned. Recovery? What was left to recover? “Just go home and apologize. Keep your head down for now. You have to survive to win.” And then what? Continue to play games with Serena? Apologize for things I didn’t do? Listen to their “lessons” for the rest of my life? I’d rather die. I lay back on the bed, a single thought flashing through my mind. “System, let the cancer spread.” “I forfeit the mission.” The System became deathly serious. “Are you sure?” “If you forfeit, you will be forced to remain in this world as a ghost for ten years as a penalty.” I agreed. I really wanted to see how they would react once I was gone. 8 With the System’s power, the cancer cells flooded every organ in my body overnight. When I woke up the next morning, I was so weak I couldn’t even lift my hand. “Maya, it’s not too late to regret this.” I closed my eyes. A silent refusal. When Nurse Thompson came for her rounds, she was so shocked she dropped the IV bag. “Doctor! Code blue!” She ran out, followed by a chaotic blur of footsteps. A team of doctors swarmed the room, checking my vitals. I was hooked up to a dozen different tubes. “How? Yesterday there was no metastasis. How could this happen in a single night?” Nurse Thompson gripped my hand, her eyes blood-red. Honestly, I didn’t understand why she was so good to me. As a stranger, she had given me far more than my own parents ever had. The doctor shone a light into my pupils. “The will to live is non-existent.” “Notify the family immediately.” I struggled to open my eyes and saw Nurse Thompson pull the doctor aside. Even though my consciousness was fading, I could still hear them. “Dr. Young, the family refused to come…” “Refused?!” The doctor’s voice rose, then dropped into a low, urgent tone. “Give me their number.” “The patient could go at any second. They must be informed.” I fought to stay awake. Maybe… just maybe I could last until they arrived. I wanted to see their faces when they saw me. Regret? Or total indifference? 9 I waited and waited, slipping in and out of consciousness. In my dreams, I could hear the frantic voices of doctors and nurses. When I finally opened my eyes, the first thing I did was look at the chair beside my bed. It was empty. “How many days?” In this vast world, only the System remained by my side. “Three days.” A single tear rolled down my cheek. Three days, and they still hadn’t come. I tried to wipe the tear, but I couldn’t move my arm. I think I’m done. The monitors beside the bed began a sharp, rhythmic beeping. The hospital’s final alarm. I saw a group of doctors rush in to start resuscitation. I watched them frantically compress my chest. They were still trying to save me. But it was too late. I felt myself float upward. With the final long beep, I was completely detached from my body. Two minutes later, the lead doctor looked defeated. “Patient: Maya Sterling. Time of death: April 28, 2023, at 9:03 AM.” I saw Nurse Thompson turn away to wipe her eyes. The System teased me: “See? You weren’t a total failure.” “At least someone cried for you.” I felt a pang of sadness. I tried to wipe her tears, but my hand was only a breeze that ruffled her hair. 10 By the time I found my parents, they were just returning from their vacation. I could feel it; even the System was in a foul mood. “Maya, I’m sorry.” I sat casually on the steps of the Sterling mansion, dusting off my invisible skirt. “This family is trash.” “I’m sorry I threw you into this pit.” I just smiled and said nothing. I had cursed this System a thousand times in my head before. But I realized we were bound together. Over time, she had developed something resembling human emotion. In the living room, Serena was showing off her new designer dresses. My parents sat patiently, watching her model the last one, their eyes full of warmth and smiles. Until—the hospital called again. “Hello? When is this going to end?” “How much did Maya pay you? I’ll double it. You’re doctors, for God’s sake. How can you lie like this?!” I couldn’t hear the doctor’s side, but my father started laughing. “You really don’t even have a script for these lies anymore, do you?” “Tell Maya: if she isn’t home in three days, she’s never allowed back…” The line clicked. My father was fuming. “He hung up on me!” “What did they say? What is Maya up to now?” My father slammed his phone onto the table. “Her lies are getting more and more unhinged. She just had someone call me and say she died of cancer.” My mother’s brow furrowed. “Maya… it has been a few days since we heard from her.” “I’ll give her a call.” But as my mother reached for her phone, Serena cut in. “But didn’t Maya call a couple of days ago and say it was early stage?” “How could it suddenly…” The couple exchanged a look, and a wave of shared annoyance crossed their faces. “Serena is right.” “What kind of cancer spreads that fast?” “If Serena hadn’t warned us, I wouldn’t have known our biological daughter was faking an illness just for attention! How low can she get?” “Let’s not contact her for a few months. She needs to learn her lesson. Maybe then she’ll finally start behaving.” Behaving? But I’m already dead. Serena hid a smirk, then reached out to tug on my mother’s arm. “Mom, Maya just wants your attention.” “Maybe you should call her anyway.” My father slammed the table. “NO CALLS!” I sat on the steps, propping my chin on my hands and sighing. If they wait any longer, there won’t even be a body to find.

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The college admissions scores had just been released. The girl I had been financially sponsoring for the past four years sent me a text. She scored a 900 on her SATs—somehow even lower than her score last year. She texted me: Chloe, I don’t want to do another year of prep classes, and I really don’t want to go to a community college. A classmate told me I could study abroad at a private university, but the tuition and fees are going to be around $50,000. Chloe, I truly want to pursue my education. Can you please keep sponsoring me? 1 Sitting across from me, my best friend Sarah noticed me frowning as I set my phone face-down on the table. She looked at me, surprised. “What’s wrong? You look like you just swallowed a lemon.” I slid my phone across the table so she could read the text. “Where on earth did you find this entitled parasite? Fifty grand? The sheer audacity she has to even ask,” Sarah said, her eyes wide with disbelief. “So, what are you going to do?” “Tell her I’m pulling the plug on her sponsorship. I’m just trying to figure out how to word it.” Before I could even finish my sentence, another text chimed in. Chloe, I really need this educational opportunity. I know my test scores aren’t high. But Chloe, you know my family’s financial situation… I hope you can help me achieve my dreams. I will remember you forever. Thank you. Reading that little sob story didn’t change my mind. If anything, it made me realize that sponsoring her for the last four years had been a massive mistake. Suppressing my irritation, I typed out a reply. Mia, hi. I’m sorry to hear your scores weren’t what you hoped for. When we spoke last year, I made it very clear that this was your last chance. My condition for continuing the sponsorship was that you get accepted into a four-year state college. As for your plan to study abroad, I am not wealthy enough to afford a $50,000 tuition bill, so my hands are tied. Given the current circumstances, I am terminating my sponsorship. Moving forward, you’ll have to rely on yourself. Hitting send felt like a massive weight lifting off my chest. Sarah read the text over my shoulder and sighed. “You should have bluntly rejected her like this ages ago. Instead, you dragged it out for an extra year.” The screen showed Mia was typing, but no message ever came through. I assumed the matter was finally settled. 2 When I opened my front door and saw Mia and her mother standing in my hallway, I was genuinely shocked. Mrs. Gallagher was holding an assortment of cheap gift bags. Mia was looking down, tapping away on her phone. The moment she saw me, she shoved her phone in her pocket, practically lunged at me, and locked her arms around mine. “Chloe! I finally get to see you! I’ve been wanting to visit you forever, but school has been so busy I never had the chance.” “This girl has been talking my ear off about coming to see you, saying she needed to thank you for all your help over the years,” Mrs. Gallagher quickly chimed in. I glanced at the bags cluttering my hallway and said flatly, “Let’s go inside first.” They hadn’t even been sitting on my couch for five minutes before Mrs. Gallagher revealed their true motive. “We know the girl didn’t test well this year, and she felt too guilty to face you. But you know how it is—a girl without a real degree these days is going to struggle. Her dad is disabled, and I have to support both her and her little brother on my own. We simply don’t have the money to send her abroad. You’re the only person we could turn to.” I poured them two glasses of water and sat back. “Universities abroad still have academic standards. With her grades, even if she goes overseas, she won’t get into a reputable school. Finding a good job when she comes back will be just as difficult.” “I already asked around! It only takes $50,000 to get the degree, and when she comes back, they guarantee job placement with a starting salary of $80,000 a year!” Hearing that, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Mrs. Gallagher, things like that don’t exist. Whoever told you that is running a scam.” Mrs. Gallagher’s face immediately hardened. “I may not have a college degree, but I’m not an idiot.” “Chloe, you have to believe us. It’s real,” Mia insisted. “My boyfriend—well, a guy in my class—is going too. If we apply together, they even give us a discount.” I shook my head. “That makes it sound even more like a scam.” “It’s real! Look, I’ll show you the texts.” Mia shoved her phone in my face. The chat was open to a contact saved as “Baby Bear.” She glanced at me, and seeing I wasn’t reacting, quickly backed out to pull up the contact for the “agent” she had mentioned. The agent’s pitch was flawless. They claimed to represent globally recognized universities—top-tier schools across Europe and Australia, take your pick. They didn’t care about your GPA; as long as you paid the fee, they would ensure you passed the interview and got your visa. If you chose to return to the States after graduation, they guaranteed an $80,000/year corporate job. Hell, if it were real, I’d want to sign up. I had been busting my back in the corporate world for two years and barely cleared $5,000 a month. “This is an obvious fraud,” I said firmly. “Studying abroad doesn’t work on a ‘flat-rate package’ deal, and costs vary wildly depending on the country. If it were this easy, why would anyone even bother taking the SATs? We’d all just pay a fee, go abroad, and come back to guaranteed $80K salaries.” “That’s just because other people don’t have the right connections! This isn’t an opportunity just anyone can get.” Mrs. Gallagher leaned in close, lowering her voice like we were discussing state secrets. “These spots are strictly allocated. Mia is just incredibly lucky to have access to one.” I looked at Mia, who was staring at her phone with a dopey, lovesick smile. I sighed inwardly. “Mia, how exactly did you get this ‘spot’?” Hearing her name, Mia quickly locked her screen and turned to me. “My boyfriend pulled some strings through his relatives. His uncle is a massive real estate developer in New York with huge connections. That’s how we got the VIP allocation.” Her face was plastered with a smile so smitten it looked glued on. A rich developer uncle? Massive connections? I instantly knew exactly what was going on. “Mrs. Gallagher, I’m telling you, you’ve met a con artist. He’s just trying to drain your bank accounts.” “Impossible. Why would he be a scammer?” Mrs. Gallagher waved me off, utterly dismissive. Since the mother was a brick wall, I pivoted to the daughter. “Mia, listen to me. Nothing your boyfriend is telling you is true.” She blinked, totally failing to process my bluntness. “I don’t know how long you’ve been dating this guy, but everything he’s pitching is a lie. I highly suspect he’s trying to scam you out of your money. I strongly suggest you call the police.” Mia’s eyes went wide, acting as if I had just uttered absolute heresy. “Call the police? For what?!” Mrs. Gallagher erupted. “You just don’t want to pay up! You only agreed to sponsor us in the first place to look like a saint on social media! Now that Mia found a boyfriend with real money and power, you’re jealous!” “Yeah, Chloe! How could you be so mean?” Mia chimed in, tears brimming in her eyes as if I were a heartless monster. “Just because I accepted your financial help doesn’t mean I lose the right to fall in love!” “Trey said that when they get back from Europe, he’s going to build her brother a massive three-story house back in our hometown! He’s not a scammer! You just can’t stand seeing us do well. Honestly, if we knew you were going to be this stingy, we would have found a different sponsor. We wouldn’t have to sit here begging you while you act superior. We’d already have the money wired!” Mrs. Gallagher ranted. Seeing my face turn to ice, Mia tugged her mother’s sleeve. “Mom, stop.” “Why should I stop? She should have sponsored you and your brother from the start! Instead, she decided to split her money and sponsor two different families to double her clout. If she had just given us all the money, I wouldn’t have to work so hard!” Hearing that, any remaining shred of politeness I had vanished. I stood up and pointed to the door. “I don’t have the money to fund your delusion. If you want to study abroad, figure it out yourselves. It’s late, and I have work tomorrow. Please leave.” Mia’s face went pale. “Chloe, it’s so late. We don’t know anyone in this city. You’re really not going to let us stay the night?” “There’s a hotel right down the street.” “You gave us a little bit of charity and think you’re royalty?! Fine! I refuse to believe we’ll sleep on the street!” Mrs. Gallagher grabbed Mia with one hand, snatched her cheap gift bags with the other, and stormed out, slamming my door so hard the walls shook. The mother-daughter duo successfully completely cured my burnout from work. Turns out, there really are things in this world far more nauseating than a 9-to-5 job. 3 I thought ambushing me at my apartment was the lowest they could go. I underestimated them. They showed up at my workplace. Mrs. Gallagher’s exact logic was: How can a liar who breaks her promises be allowed to work in the public sector, supposedly serving the community? This time, it wasn’t just the two of them. They dragged along Mia’s disabled father and her fragile younger brother, Kevin. The whole family camped out in the main lobby of the City Hall permit office. Mrs. Gallagher marched up to every single service window, loudly broadcasting her sob story. She claimed I had promised to fund Mia’s entire university education, but now I was going back on my word and refusing to pay. She cried about how they brought me hometown gifts out of the goodness of their hearts, only for me to turn up my nose and kick them out onto the street at night. She wailed that if I wasn’t going to fund Mia’s college, I shouldn’t have stolen the sponsorship spot from wealthy corporate donors who actually had money. Now, Mia was doomed to rot in their dead-end hometown because I was a greedy liar. She put on such a tear-jerking performance you’d think she was auditioning for an Oscar. I had funded this girl for four years. Because she wanted an exorbitant amount of money to go abroad, I said no, and suddenly I was the villain of the century? In just a few days, she successfully made me the most famous person in my department. Sitting at my front-desk window, I could feel the side-eyes and whispers from my coworkers. But because I worked at the public-facing front desk, I had no valid excuse to have security throw them out without causing a PR nightmare. “Chloe, Director Davis is back from his conference. He wants to see you in his office.” After the family had terrorized my lobby for four straight days, my boss returned from a two-week training trip early. Clearly, the circus downstairs had prompted his early return. “Chloe. Come in, sit,” Director Davis greeted me with his usual warm, politician smile. I forced a polite smile back. “Good morning, Director.” I sat down, feeling incredibly anxious. “I’ve heard about the situation downstairs,” he said, taking a slow sip from his thermos. “Why don’t you walk me through exactly what’s going on?” “I started sponsoring Mia when I was a junior in college. $500 a month. I had come into a little bit of money that year, and I just wanted to do something good, so I picked two students to help out. Last year, she failed her college entrance exams, so I terminated the agreement. But she begged me, saying if she didn’t do a prep year, her mom was going to force her into an arranged marriage just to collect a dowry for her brother. I agreed to sponsor her for one final year. The condition was that she had to get into a state college. If she failed again, the money stopped.” “I see. I know your character, Chloe. Doing a good deed is commendable,” Director Davis said, rubbing his temples. “But this family causing a scene in the lobby every day… we can’t let this continue.” “I know, Director. I’ll handle it.” “With people like this, you can’t just throw money at the problem to make them go away. They’re a bottomless pit.” “I understand.” “If you need help, don’t try to shoulder it alone. We have your back,” he said thoughtfully. “Have security bring them up to my office. I’ll have a word with them.” “Thank you so much, Director.” As I walked downstairs, I ran into the family of four being escorted up by the security guards. Mrs. Gallagher shot me a triumphant, arrogant glare, strutting like she owned the building. “Mia,” I called out to the girl trailing at the back. She flinched, surprised I was speaking to her. “What’s the matter? Finally willing to talk to us?” Mrs. Gallagher sneered, assuming my silence over the past few days meant I had caved. “You gave us a few pennies and think you’re God. If we knew you were just a miserable 9-to-5 desk jockey, we would never have taken your money! I’ll make a scene every day until you’re completely humiliated. Let’s see if you dare bully us again.” “Mia, for the last four years, I wired your tuition and your $500 monthly living expenses on time, every single month. You told me you would study hard to repay my kindness. Is this how you repay me?” I stared dead into Mia’s eyes. “Have I ever asked you for anything unreasonable? Have I ever mistreated you? Don’t you think causing a scene at my job is completely immoral?” “$500?!” Mrs. Gallagher gasped like she had just been struck by lightning. She slapped Mia hard on the shoulder. “You ungrateful brat! You told me she only sent $300! Where did the other $200 go?!” Kevin lunged forward, grabbing his sister’s arm. “Did you hide money from me?! Give it back!” Being yanked back and forth by her mother and brother, Mia finally snapped. She ripped her arm away and screamed, “I gave it to Trey!” She shot me a venomous glare. “Trey’s wealthy parents despise my background. They cut off his credit cards to force us to break up, so I gave the money to him!” “But that was supposed to be my money!” Kevin whined. “Oh, shut up, look at the big picture! Once your sister and Trey come back from studying abroad, do you really think we’ll care about a few hundred bucks?” Mrs. Gallagher beamed at Mia as if looking at a winning lottery ticket. Suddenly, her eyes shifted back to me, filled with absolute disgust. “If you hadn’t shoved your way in, the person sponsoring Mia would have been a real millionaire! An actual CEO! Not a fraud who can’t even scrape together $50,000. You’re broke, but you still pretend to be rich.” I let out a dark chuckle. “If I hadn’t sponsored her, you would have sold her off for a dowry four years ago. Did you forget?” “Th-that was a special circumstance!” Mrs. Gallagher stammered. “Besides, Mia found Trey on her own! It’s her own blessing! You don’t have the money anyway, so this is none of your business!” I didn’t bother arguing with the mother. I just looked at Mia. But in her eyes, I couldn’t find a single trace of gratitude or apology. Perfect. Four years of charity, wasted on a snake. Director Davis stepped out of his office, saw us in the hallway, and ushered everyone inside. “I’m familiar with your situation,” Director Davis said with his signature smile, taking a slow sip of his tea. “What exactly are you hoping to achieve here?” “Director, Chloe promised to sponsor Mia through college, but now that Mia’s grades slipped, she’s backing out. We couldn’t swallow that injustice, so we came to find her. Just because a kid struggles in school doesn’t mean she should be stripped of her right to an education, does it?” Mrs. Gallagher’s rapid-fire guilt trip even caught Director Davis off guard for a second. “We’re reasonable people. We just want you to judge the situation fairly. How can someone with zero integrity like her be allowed to work here?” “Chloe is an exceptional employee. Her work ethic is recognized by everyone in this building,” Director Davis interrupted smoothly. “Well, she’s your employee, and she promised to pay for Mia’s college. Since she doesn’t have the money, Director, don’t you think your office should allocate some public funds to solve this issue?” I swear, even a seasoned veteran like Director Davis blue-screened for a second when he heard that. I certainly didn’t expect Mrs. Gallagher to drop a demand so delusional it could shatter the sound barrier. “Chloe’s charitable contributions are strictly personal actions. They have absolutely nothing to do with this office,” Director Davis replied, recovering his diplomatic tone. “You’re a massive government office, and you don’t have a charity fund?” Mrs. Gallagher pressed, refusing to give up. “Sponsoring Mia is an investment with infinite returns! You really don’t have a precedent for this?” “If you’re looking for charity, I suggest you contact the Red Cross,” Davis said, glancing at them. “Though, somehow, I doubt they’ll fund an international vacation.” “I don’t care! Your employee made a promise. If she doesn’t have the money, you need to figure it out!” Mrs. Gallagher had fully transitioned into throwing a toddler’s tantrum. “Chloe doesn’t have money?” Director Davis looked at me, thoroughly amused. “Chloe, did you not explain your financial situation to them?” 4 Yes, I was just a regular 9-to-5 employee. But during my junior year of college, my family received a massive payout from a corporate eminent domain buyout of our land. It wasn’t “buy-a-private-jet” money, but it was enough that if I budgeted well, I wouldn’t have to stress about bills for the next two hundred years. I wanted to put some of it to good use, so I picked two students to sponsor. I never expected them to worship the ground I walked on. I just wanted to help people who actually needed it. But I never anticipated creating a monster like Mia. The moment Mia and her mother realized I actually did have money, the speed at which their attitudes flipped was genuinely breathtaking. Mia was suddenly calling me “Chloe” with nauseating sweetness, blaming her “youth and immaturity” for her past behavior. She claimed she was just so desperate to study that it clouded her judgment. Her mother parroted the same nonsense, claiming her “fierce maternal love” made her act disrespectfully. Mrs. Gallagher even went back downstairs to all the service windows, aggressively singing my praises to my coworkers and asking them to “take good care of me.” The whiplash was so severe my coworkers looked at her like she belonged in a psych ward. But true to form, they operated entirely on their own shameless logic, uncaring of how unhinged they looked. The venom they spewed yesterday matched the sickeningly sweet flattery they poured on me today. In just a few days, this mother-daughter duo taught me that when someone truly abandons all shame, there is absolutely no limit to what they are capable of. They started camping outside my apartment again—this time, practically trying to force-feed me home-cooked meals. Her disabled father limped around my hallway, sweeping my doormat. And Kevin, the frail, delicate brother, waited for me outside my office every morning and evening, claiming he was there to “protect” me. People talk about getting milked like a cash cow, but this family was trying to harvest my organs. I had sponsored a student and accidentally adopted a whole lineage of parasites. Director Davis loved watching the karma unfold, but at the end of the day, it was my mess to clean up. I sighed in defeat. “Mia, come here.” Hearing me finally address her directly, Mia’s face lit up with pure ecstasy. “Yes? What is it, Chloe?” “Regarding the funds for you to study abroad,” I said, my tone completely flat. The moment those words left my mouth, the entire family swarmed me like vultures. “Are you willing to sponsor me?!” Mia’s eyes practically glowed in the dark. “Let me explain my situation.” I paused for dramatic effect. “I don’t spend a lot of money on a daily basis. My funds are locked in high-yield Certificates of Deposit. If I withdraw the money early, the penalty fees are massive.” “So after all that talk, you’re just making excuses not to pay us,” Kevin sneered, rolling his eyes. I completely ignored him. “If I am going to continue the sponsorship, we have to sign a legally binding contract. I will only wire the money directly to the educational institution for tuition. Furthermore, you must guarantee you will actually graduate and receive a legitimate diploma.” “Yes, yes, absolutely! I promise I will study so hard!” Mia nodded furiously. “Like I said, my money is locked up. It matures in exactly fifteen days. That is the earliest I can access the funds.” “Ah, is that so?” Mia looked deeply distressed. “Chloe, can’t you just take the penalty fee and withdraw it early? My family already took out a huge loan to start building my brother’s house… Just pull it out early, and we’ll pay you back whatever the penalty fee is!” I stared at the girl flashing me a brilliant smile. Pay me back the penalty fee? The absolute delusion. “This is my final offer,” I said coldly. “Until those fifteen days are up, do not contact me.” Realizing I left zero room for negotiation, Mia pouted and muttered an “Okay.” “And stop lurking around my apartment,” I added, looking at the family of four buzzing with greedy excitement. “In fifteen days, bring the contract to my office, and we’ll sign the paperwork.” “Chloe, you are the absolute best! Our whole family thanks you!” Before leaving, Mia forced me into a massive, suffocating hug. As Mrs. Gallagher walked away, she loudly praised my “kind and generous heart.” I funded Mia for four years and never got a single word of thanks. Now, I was making them wait fifteen days, and suddenly I was a saint. Was I being kind and generous? No. I was simply respecting the fate they chose for themselves.

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1 Heart racing to share my pregnancy news, I stood outside the door—until David’s voice stopped me cold. To his squadmate, he mocked me as “used goods” and a burden. His entire pursuit had been a calculated strategy: his true love, Ivy, had her sights set on my ex-husband Silas, and since I refused to sign the divorce, David married me to keep me in check. All his “protection” was just surveillance to prevent me from disrupting Ivy’s plans. The final blow was his forged paternity test, ready to brand my unborn child illegitimate so he could discard me guilt-free. Memories flooded back to five years ago, when I’d slept with David out of spite after catching Silas with Ivy. Their resulting brawl ended their friendship and pushed me into marrying David. For five years, he played the doting husband, shielding me from other men and convincing me I’d found happiness. But now, hearing him laugh, I realized it was all a meticulously crafted lie. I wasn’t his wife; I was a pawn in his game to please Ivy. I couldn’t listen to another word. When my senses finally returned, I was standing in the biting wind outside the military base. The ultrasound printout that was supposed to hold so much joy was now just a pathetic joke. My hands would not stop shaking. My phone screen lit up suddenly. A new text popped up. [Sweetheart, training ended early today. What do you want for dinner? I am cooking.] A laugh ripped from my throat, but the tears fell fast and heavy. My chest felt like it had been impaled by a combat knife. I squeezed my eyes shut. When I opened them again, the desperate hope in my eyes had died, leaving behind a cold, desolate wasteland. I opened my contacts and sent a message to Commander Brooks. [Commander, I heard the joint task force in Alaska needs a strategist. I am requesting a transfer.] Then I dialed the base medical center. “I need to schedule an abortion. As soon as possible.” I lowered my eyes, a faint, bitter smile tugging at the corners of my lips. David would probably never know that the marriage certificate we framed was a complete fake. This time, I could walk away without a single trace. 2 I do not know how I made it back to our base housing. The moment I pushed the door open, David was sitting in the living room. Seeing me, he immediately stood up. His eyes carried that familiar, gentle warmth. “You are back? I made chicken soup. Have some while it is hot.” I did not refuse. I sat down and forced two spoonfuls down my throat. His phone suddenly lit up on the table. I glanced at it instinctively, and my entire body froze. [David, that soup was way too salty. I do not want it. Give it to your wife like a good boy.] The timestamp was twenty minutes ago. The rich broth in my bowl instantly turned to ash in my mouth. I dropped the spoon, bolted into the bathroom, and hovered over the sink, dry heaving violently. David followed me in, gently rubbing my back. “What is wrong? Are you getting sick?” I slapped his hand away. “Do not touch me. We are sleeping in separate rooms tonight.” By the time I woke up the next morning, David was already gone. I drove alone to the base medical center for the first surgery slot of the day. The doctor looked over my chart, her expression grave. “Nora, your uterine wall is incredibly thin. If we proceed with this termination, it is highly unlikely you will ever conceive again. You need to think this through.” I nodded, my voice barely a whisper. “I am sure. Do it.” The procedure was quick. I grabbed my prescription painkillers and headed for the exit. Right at the doors, someone crashed into me. The impact was not heavy. But my body was so weak from the surgery that my legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the concrete. My forehead smashed against the edge of the steps. Black spots danced across my vision. I struggled to lift my head and finally saw the person standing over me. Ivy. She clutched her stomach and dropped to the ground, her face pale as a ghost. “Ivy!” Two figures sprinted over at the exact same time. Silas reached her first. He grabbed her shoulders, his voice frantic with worry. Right behind him was David. He was clutching a stack of medical charts in one hand and a bag of premium fruits in the other. All of Ivy’s favorites. “Silas… my stomach hurts so bad…” Ivy leaned into Silas’s chest, her eyes welling with tears. Without a second thought, Silas scooped her up in his arms and bolted toward the emergency room. David was half a step too slow. His extended hand hovered uselessly in the air. A sharp, pulling pain erupted in my lower abdomen. Cold sweat drenched my forehead. Just as I braced my hands against the ground to stand, a heavy canvas sack was thrown over my head from behind, trapping me in darkness. Before I could even scream, a heavy combat boot slammed into my stomach. The blinding agony choked the sound right out of my throat. I curled into a tight ball. Through the thick fabric, I could barely make out David’s voice. It was cold, ruthless, and entirely devoid of mercy. “Drag this blind bitch out to the back lot. Teach her some manners. Not just anyone gets to bump into her.” Several military police officers grabbed the sack and dragged me across the rough asphalt. I had just walked out of surgery. I was wearing a thick beanie and a surgical mask. He had no idea it was me. I thrashed and fought, but a heavy boot pinned me to the dirt. A tactical baton slammed mercilessly into my spine. The guards chatted casually as they rained blows down on me. “Commander David really goes all out for Ivy. Someone just bumps into her and he snaps. I bet his actual wife does not even get treated this well.” “Obviously. Did you know about that brutal disciplinary hearing years ago? The one where Nora caught those ninety nine strikes from the baton? David was the one who personally requested that punishment from the top brass.” “Yeah, he even ordered them to use the heavy steel batons. Said he wanted to punish her for dragging out the divorce and making Ivy unhappy.” A bomb went off in my skull. That brutal punishment, the one that nearly left me paralyzed five years ago… David was the one who asked for it? And I, like an absolute fool, had viewed him as my savior. The last faint flicker of light in my eyes finally went out. 3 When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in an infirmary bed. Through the glass window on the door, I could vaguely see a row of guards kneeling in the hallway. “You useless trash! You could not even recognize my wife?” The door was pushed open gently. David walked in, the violent rage still lingering around his eyes. Seeing me awake, he crossed the room in three long strides, his voice dropping into a soft, soothing hum. “Nora, you are awake? I already dealt with those blind idiots. Are you still hurting?” He reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear, but I turned my face away. His fingers froze in the air. He let out a heavy sigh. “It is my fault. It was so chaotic out there, I did not recognize you with the mask on. I am so sorry you got hurt. Hey, didn’t you always want to go to that private retreat in Florida? I told the operations desk to clear my schedule for the next few weeks. I will go with you, okay?” I just stared at him, my throat dry. “There is no need.” “You care about Ivy so much, why don’t you go keep her company?” David’s expression stiffened. “I know you do not like her. But her father is the four star general at the Northern Command. Our joint military drills depend on this alliance. If something happens to her, the whole operation falls apart.” “Besides… she is pregnant now. Whatever bad blood we had in the past should be buried. You cannot possibly still be obsessing over her and Silas. Have some perspective.” A ball of pure fire twisted in my chest. Before I could speak, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. It was the logistics department. “Nora, your transfer request to the Alaskan border has been approved. You can report for duty early next month.” David had exceptional hearing. The moment the word request came through the speaker, his brows knitted together. “What request?” “Nothing.” I murmured a quick thank you into the receiver before looking back at him. “Just a colleague’s shift change.” A few days later, I was discharged. I had spent the entire night perfecting my speech for the Joint Forces Defense Tech Summit. The auditorium was packed with military contractors and brass. Cameras were set up in the front row. I took a deep breath and prepared to walk up to the podium. Suddenly, the heavy double doors at the back of the hall were kicked open. David marched down the aisle, his boots echoing loudly. He stepped onto the stage, grabbed my wrist in a crushing grip, and glared at me with a terrifying, icy fury I had never seen before. “Nora, did I not say the past was swept clean? You married me. Why the hell are you still begging Silas to take you back?” “Let go of me!” I winced at the pain. “Begging who? I have no idea what you are talking about.” Before I could finish, a sharp slap struck across my face. Ivy appeared on the stage out of nowhere. Her beautiful face was twisted with disgust and absolute triumph. “Still playing dumb? Fine! Someone put it on the screen so everyone can see what a desperate slut she really is behind closed doors!” A few guards stepped up to the control panel. With a few clicks, my presentation slides vanished, replaced by a series of text message screenshots. [Silas, I truly love you. I do not care about David at all. Please, let us get back together.] [What is so great about that bitch Ivy? She is just a homewrecker. When you get tired of her, you will realize I am the better choice!] The words were vulgar and sickening. Scattered between the texts were several provocative, half naked mirror selfies. The face was cropped out, but the body shape was almost identical to mine. A collective gasp echoed through the auditorium. I violently tore my wrist out of David’s grip. “I did not send those! I am calling military police right now!” I pulled out my phone to dial, but Ivy suddenly clutched her stomach. Her face drained of color, and she stumbled backward. David moved like lightning, catching her in his arms. Leaning against his chest, Ivy took a few weak breaths. Then she pointed a shaking finger at the massive screen. “Wait. The woman in these photos has a crescent moon scar right above her breast. Nora, you claim this is not you?” “Then take off your shirt and let us check.” Two heavy set guards stepped forward and forced me to my knees. I looked up, my eyes burning red as I stared right at David. “Do I have a scar there? You know my body. Tell them.” David frowned and shook his head. “Nora, Ivy is pregnant. Her blood pressure cannot take this stress. Just let her check, and it will be over. Besides, if rumors spread that you are harassing your ex husband, your career is over anyway. Clearing it up right here is the fairest thing for everyone.” He gave the guards a slight nod. They lunged forward and brutally ripped my uniform blouse open. I fought with everything I had, but my body, still recovering from the surgery, betrayed me. I was completely exposed from the waist up. The entire auditorium stared in dead silence. My chest was perfectly clear. There was no crescent moon scar. Camera shutters clicked frantically. The harsh flashes blinded me. Those stares cut into my bare skin like rusted blades. What was supposed to be the proudest presentation of my career had been twisted into a public execution. Ivy went entirely limp and fainted on the spot. David abandoned all logic. He scooped her into his arms, threw down a cold order to take his wife home, and sprinted out of the hall without looking back. 4 They escorted me back to the empty house. The disciplinary notice was already in my inbox. Suspended pending investigation. Overnight, my reputation was slaughtered. I had absolutely nothing left. I dragged myself up, opened the nightstand drawer, and found the sleeping pills the military doctor had prescribed. I poured a massive handful into my palm and raised my hand to my mouth. The bedroom door slammed open. David charged in and smacked the bottle out of my hand. “Are you insane? Do you want to die taking that many?” I let out a soft laugh, though tears were streaming down my face. “Isn’t this exactly what you wanted?” During my darkest years with Silas, I suffered from severe insomnia. I survived purely on those pills. It was David who had slowly pulled me out of that swamp, staying up with me night after night until I was finally clean. Now, he was the one shoving me back into the abyss, and the fall was much farther this time. David locked his jaw. “Enough. The misunderstanding was cleared up, wasn’t it? You used to pull this pathetic sympathy act on Silas, but it will not work on me. Stop being dramatic.” I could not hold it back anymore. I swung my arm and slapped him across the face as hard as I could. The sharp crack echoed in the bedroom. He turned his head slowly. A bright red handprint blossomed on his cheek. A flash of pure rage ignited in his eyes, but when he saw my red, hollow eyes, he held his tongue. Right then, his phone rang. He answered it, listened for a few seconds, and all the color drained from his face. “Guards! Get in here and hold her down!” Two military police officers rushed into the room, grabbing my arms and pinning me forcefully onto the sofa. A freezing chill crawled up my spine. David’s face was grim. “Ivy passed out again. Her pulse is dropping, and she is hemorrhaging. Silas brought in that holistic guru his family trusts.” “The guru said your dark energy is too heavy. It is poisoning the baby. We need to bleed the bad energy out of you to break the curse.” “No!” I thrashed violently against the cushions, but the men pressing me down were built like tanks. I could not move an inch. A combat medic stepped forward, holding a sterile tactical blade. The first slice cut deep into my forearm. Dark red blood welled up immediately. The sharp, searing pain made the room spin. The second cut went into my right hand. The third on my calf. The fourth. My struggling grew weaker and weaker. My face turned the color of ash. Blood dripped steadily from my limbs, turning the olive green sofa a sickening shade of black. Nineteen cuts. They finally let me go. I slumped against the cushions, drenched in my own blood, my breathing so shallow it was almost entirely gone. David looked down at my ruined, pathetic state from his high ground. After a long moment, he let out a soft sigh. “Nora, Ivy is carrying a child. You need to be more forgiving. I arranged a spot at the Florida retreat for you. You can stay there until she gives birth, then I will bring you back. You always wanted a kid, right? When this is over, we can have one of our own.” “Rest up. I need to get back to the hospital.” He did not look at me again. He ordered the medic to bandage me up and hurried out the door. The moment the heavy front door clicked shut, the very last spark of life inside me vanished forever. I sat there like a broken marionette, letting the medic wipe the blood and wrap the gauze tightly around my fresh wounds. Suddenly, my phone screen lit up. A text from Commander Brooks. [Nora, I heard what happened today. Do not worry. I have your back.] [Now, come with me.] A tear dropped onto the glass screen, blurring the words. With trembling, bloodstained fingers, I typed a single word. [Okay.] An hour later, covered in bandages and smelling of iodine, I stood in the terminal of the international airport. David’s assistant called. “Ma’am, your flight to Florida is booked. Do you need a driver to pick you up?” “No need.” I stared out the massive windows at the grey, weeping sky. My voice was eerily calm. “Do me a favor. Take that metal box I left on the kitchen counter and give it to David. And… do not call me Ma’am anymore.” I hung up and walked through the security gates. It was over. David, your lies end here. And I am walking into my new life.

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1 After three long years, I could finally lift my hand. This sudden, miraculous ability made me forget the stiffness in my body as I slowly, painstakingly, crept towards the bedroom door. The gasping sounds from beneath the crack in the door were like ice picks stabbing into my ears. Kris Essen’s profile, illuminated by the warm glow of the monitor, looked utterly alien. On the screen, Mindy Hickey’s smug smile shimmered with triumph. “Regret it?” Mindy’s voice, full of mockery, cut through the air. “If it weren’t for Summer Bloom saving you back then, you wouldn’t be begging me like a dog for her treatment money.” The air solidified for a few seconds, until the flush on Kris’s ears betrayed his answer. “Regret it.” The two words slammed into my chest, making my heart ache. So, all those nights of devoted care were just an act; he had been tired of this life for a long time. I turned and crawled back, the floor scraping my skin raw. My fingernails tore back, oozing blood, but I felt nothing. As the wind from the balcony whipped into my collar, I suddenly smiled. Kris, the release you want, I’ll give it to you. The moment I plunged off, I heard myself say: I’m free. … The wind howled past my ears, yet I felt a freedom I hadn’t known in years. Warm blood pooled beneath me. A cold gust blew, making me shiver. Before my eyes closed, I felt a deep sense of relief. At least it was night. No one would come out, no one would be scared. I hoped when Amelia Price found out I was dead, she wouldn’t be sad. Thinking of what she had just said, I felt even more at ease. She wouldn’t be sad. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the room. Amelia had just finished getting dressed and was heading towards my bedroom. She must have heard the thud of my fall. She called my name, asking if I was okay. But before she could pull open the bedroom door, Kris Essen’s voice stopped her. “Amelia, get back here! Do you have to ruin my mood right now?” Amelia’s hand rested on the doorknob. She paused, then closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She returned to the computer, attempting to negotiate with Kris. “That’s enough. I have to take Leo to his doctor’s appointment tomorrow morning. I need to prepare the necessary documents in advance.” Kris clearly paid no mind to her refusal. “I’m not done yet. Go to the supermarket downstairs and buy a box of condoms. Come over to my place and we’ll continue.” Amelia glanced at the time. “It’s too late today…” Kris leaned closer to the screen, a smirk on his face as he stared at her. “Late? Usually at this time, we’re just getting started, aren’t we?” He chuckled. “It’s right next door to your place; you’ll be here in minutes. Oh, you haven’t tucked him into bed yet, have you? What, afraid he’ll hear us?” I froze. I suddenly remembered that I would often vaguely hear passionate sounds in the middle of the night. Each time, I thought it was some neighbor. It never once occurred to me that it was Amelia. Once, in the middle of the night, I needed to use the restroom. Getting no response from Amelia, I tried to climb onto my wheelchair myself. The wheel slipped, and I fell heavily, breaking my arm, unable to even lift it. I could only lie on the floor, enduring the agonizing pain until she returned. At the time, I thought she was working so hard. To earn money for my medical treatment, she even took a night job. She must have been exhausted. I kept comforting her, lying that I wasn’t in pain. I never expected she was indeed exhausted. But not because of me. All this time, they had been intimately involved in a room just a wall away from mine. While I struggled to even turn my head, they had already tried every position imaginable. Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. The old me hated crying. Whenever Amelia saw my tears, her eyes would well up too, her heart aching for me. I didn’t want her to suffer with me, so I always swallowed my tears and smiled at her. But now, I wanted her to know that I could feel pain too. My tears hit the ground, but left no trace. She couldn’t see them anymore. Amelia, her thoughts clearly exposed, lowered her head and said nothing more. Kris, displeased, his smile abruptly vanished. “Amelia, don’t forget, his treatment money tomorrow is also coming from me!” He warned. “I’m giving you ten minutes. One second late, and you can forget about getting any money tomorrow!” The video call ended. Amelia stared at the screen, stunned for a few seconds. She sighed, grabbed her phone, and shut down the computer. Before leaving, she looked at the closed door of the master bedroom. “Leo, don’t worry. I will definitely cure you.” Her voice was firm. So much like the countless times over the years she had held my hand and told me, “Don’t worry about the money. You just focus on getting well, for my sake.” But only today did I realize that all the money she earned was by appeasing Kris Essen. If I had known, I would rather not have had the treatment than put her through such trouble. I was like a fixed puppet, following behind her as she left the apartment. To go to the supermarket downstairs, she would have to pass by the path next to the ground beneath the balcony. I saw Amelia glance in my direction. I tensed up immediately, my heart pounding. Luckily, the night was dark. Plus, with the cover of trees and bushes, my body wasn’t so glaringly obvious. Amelia didn’t discover me. I secretly sighed with relief. Good thing she didn’t see. My current appearance was truly gruesome. Covered in blood, my skull slightly deformed. My legs, now so thin they were almost just bones, bent at an incredible angle. They must have been broken. I felt a pang of regret. Those were once the legs of a dancer. They chronicled my past, carried my future. Now, they had met such an end. But if Kris Essen saw me, he would surely gloat. After all, his grudge against me wasn’t new. He had always wished for something bad to happen to me. Years ago, our two families were on the same tour bus. There was an accident on the road. My dad desperately pushed Kris and me out of the bus window. He said he could only rest easy if he saw Kris and me safe and sound. Those were his last words. He had wanted to save Kris’s parents too. But the next second, the vehicle exploded. No one who hadn’t escaped survived. Kris, however, believed my dad had caused his parents’ deaths. If my dad had let him stay on the bus, maybe he could have pulled his parents out. But my dad had insisted on pushing him out first. He said my dad was a busybody and deserved to die. I called him a venomous snake, ungrateful to a fault. Now, all of it was finally over. In the supermarket, the clerk noticed Amelia’s interest in purchasing something and proactively picked up a box to recommend. “Miss, this brand is on sale right now, would you like…” Amelia said calmly, “No need, he’s allergic.” Then she reached for another brand. She went to the checkout counter and paid, all in one smooth motion. Her actions were very practiced, as if she had bought them countless times. But ever since my condition had worsened, we hadn’t been intimate at all. It was obvious who these were for. In that instant, I suddenly regretted my decision to save her three years ago. That was my first time on the stage I had always dreamed of. And it became my last. After the awards ceremony, I bowed in thanks. As Amelia came onto the stage with flowers to celebrate me, a thick beam fell without warning. I pushed her away, but I was struck. She tried to lift the beam to rescue me, but that only caused me secondary injuries. The repeated impacts triggered my ALS. On the day I was diagnosed, she crouched beside me, tears streaming down her face, her features etched with regret and guilt. “Leo, I’ll always be by your side and take care of you.” “Thank you.” It turned out her promise of “always” only lasted a mere three years. Just like during the time she pursued me, when she kept all my preferences in mind. Was it experience? Habit? Or… did she truly fall in love? I shook my head, forcing myself not to dwell on it. Such needs were only natural. Moreover, I had been ill for so long; she was bound to have needs that had to be met. Amelia took care of me all day, practically on her feet constantly; she was already exhausted enough. If she couldn’t even get a moment of mental relaxation, then I would be too harsh on her. Despite trying to convince myself of this, when I thought that the man was Kris Essen, and the fact that Amelia might not love me as much anymore, I still couldn’t control my irritation. Unconsciously, Amelia had already returned to the building next door. She went upstairs and opened Kris Essen’s front door. She saw Kris lounging on the sofa, clad in a silk robe with an open collar. Amelia’s pupils widened slightly. Her gaze lingered on his toned abdomen. Her throat involuntarily bobbed up and down. I turned my head away, no longer watching. In the past, Amelia wouldn’t have even glanced at such a scene. But now, she was clearly captivated. Kris Essen seemed to have anticipated her reaction. He walked up to her, grabbed her collar, and pulled her into his embrace. Amelia stumbled, falling against Kris. After a brief, lingering hug, she pushed against the wall to straighten up. Kris leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Why the act of modesty? You weren’t like this in bed before.” He paused. “Or perhaps you don’t like this place today? True, we’ve tried every spot in this apartment; it’s getting a bit boring. How about this: it’s very close to Summer Bloom’s balcony. We could climb over there, right in front of him. Wouldn’t that be more exciting?” Amelia subtly recoiled, her brow furrowed, and said coldly, “Don’t be ridiculous.” She insisted, “Leo must not know about me and you.” I keenly picked up on her wording. I instantly understood her meaning. It was “cannot,” not “do not want to.” Perhaps she had considered giving up on me, considered confessing the truth to me. But she was coerced by the so-called life-saving grace. Bound by past vows of love. Repeatedly suppressing the restless thoughts in her heart. Duty and guilt had triumphed over retreat. She had to be the responsible, patient good girlfriend. My heart turned completely cold. The love I thought I had… had long since withered away with the worsening of my illness, gradually eroded by Amelia’s increasing care. Kris Essen, naturally, understood the underlying meaning that I could grasp. He flashed a satisfied smile. One hand wrapped around the back of Amelia’s neck, pulling her close. His other hand unbuttoned her shirt. Amelia’s collarbone was covered in a dense pattern of red marks, stinging my eyes. Kris lowered his head, burying his face in her neck. Amelia bit her lip, her brows furrowed, seemingly enduring pain. When Kris finally lifted his head again, a fresh bite mark appeared on her collarbone. Kris’s finger pressed on it, causing Amelia to flinch back with a slight gasp. “That’s your punishment for refusing me,” he said. “I’m in a good mood today, so I won’t make it hard on you, but don’t let there be a next time.” He dragged Amelia into the bedroom, pushed her onto the bed, and then leaned over her. Cupping Amelia’s face, he said, “The thought of you spending every day with Summer Bloom, it pains me a little.” He sneered, “With him looking like that, what’s the difference between living and being dead?” He continued, “Don’t you get disgusted watching his shriveled, deformed legs every day?” Kris made a face of disgust as he spoke, as if he completely forgot that during that stage accident, I saved more than just Amelia. I saved him too. Though I suspected he had intended to disrupt my focus and see me make a fool of myself that day, and though I hated him because of him, I lost my father, in that instant when the accident happened, I had only one thought. Kris was the person my father had risked his life to save. That was my dad’s dying wish; I didn’t want, and couldn’t allow, that hope to be dashed. So I pushed them both away with all my might. The result was an outcome more cruel than my father’s. Because I couldn’t bear to betray Amelia’s love and hope, for these past three years, I had barely been able to live, yet unable to die. And the person I had personally saved was now verbally humiliating my body and physically stealing my beloved. I gritted my teeth, clenched my fists, and raised my hand to slap him, but my hand passed right through his face, unable to even create a gust of wind. Amelia opened her mouth. Before she could speak, Kris Essen’s apartment door was suddenly knocked upon. “Open up! Police! We need to ask some questions.” The two exchanged a look, straightened their clothes, and after confirming the officers’ identities, opened the door. “Someone jumped from a building and committed suicide in your complex. Did you hear anything just now?” Upon hearing this, Amelia’s face immediately changed. Perhaps thinking of the sounds from earlier, she seemed lost in thought for a moment. I began to feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe she had thought of me, maybe she still cared. Seeing the police about to question her further, Kris immediately cut in, pointing to the paused movie on the TV. “My girlfriend and I were watching a movie! A horror film, with lots of background noise.” He continued, “We’re both easily scared, but we love watching them, so we covered our ears and closed our eyes in many parts.” He clutched his chest. “See, just now, your knocking startled me.” He faked a scared expression. The police nodded, then turned to knock on other doors. I floated in mid-air, a bitter smile playing on my lips. Amelia, if you knew it was me who died, would you still help Kris Essen lie? Or were you just afraid of a commotion, afraid of waking me, who was supposedly sleeping soundly? Between me and Kris Essen, she ultimately chose the latter. Seeing the police leave, Kris’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “How about we take advantage of this dark, stormy night and do something thrilling?!” “What?” Amelia hadn’t fully recovered her senses. Kris was quite displeased with her reaction and pushed her away. “Still thinking about Summer Bloom even when you’re with me?” “He’s sick. My concern is only natural.” Kris scoffed. “Stop acting! Do you dare say you haven’t thought of me when you’re with me?” He growled, “If you truly cared about him that much, you should hate me as much as he does, instead of moaning happily in my bed!” Amelia clenched her fists, wanting to retort. But she found that Kris was right. She had nothing to say. I looked at her, laughing with a few tears. See, everyone saw it clearly. Even Amelia knew her own heart. Only I, from beginning to end, was treated like a fool, kept in the dark. After a long silence, Amelia changed the subject. “What did you say you wanted to play just now?” Kris didn’t argue with her, simply going along. “How about we try at the crime scene? I bet you’ve never tried that!” Amelia resisted repeatedly, but eventually couldn’t withstand Kris Essen’s combination of hard and soft tactics. The two crept downstairs, immediately noticing the police tape surrounding the building. The on-site investigation was still underway. Police officers shone flashlights, searching for evidence in the vicinity. Kris Essen pulled Amelia, heading straight for the small path next to the building opposite. After confirming no police noticed them, Kris pushed Amelia into the grass. The complex’s landscaping was well done; every building, front and back, had waist-high bushes and dense trees. The dark shadows they cast became a natural curtain in the night. Kris Essen eagerly reached his hand into Amelia’s clothing. Not forgetting to whisper in her ear, “It’s so close to the crime scene here. You’ll have to keep it down later, okay?” He added, “Wouldn’t want the police to find out.” Amelia’s ear tips were bright red. Just as she was about to tilt her head up to meet Kris Essen’s kiss, her peripheral vision caught something sparkling on the ground across the way, illuminated by a flashlight. Curiosity compelled her to squint, carefully discerning what it was. Suddenly, her breathing hitched, and her mouth dropped open, but no scream escaped her lips. She had seen it clearly. It was a ring on the hand of the corpse. It was a matching set with the one on her left ring finger.

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1 The thought of a second marriage shattered for good that night. The man who once pulled me from the depths of despair was now screaming at me, eyes blazing red. The acrid smell of the air freshener stung my eyes, my throat constricted, unable to utter a single word. “A used-up, second-hand woman, still pretending to be innocent with me every day?” “Your ex-husband sold two thousand of your five-dollar intimate photos!” “If you had half the passion in bed as you did in those photos, do you think I’d go looking for fun elsewhere?” He finally snapped, shoving me to the floor. The air freshener clattered, shattering into pieces. “And tonight? Did you have enough fun with that flower vendor again?!” “Last time you said you just ‘rubbed up against her’ and didn’t ‘go all the way,’ and then she got pregnant!” I pressed harder, like a madwoman, until streaks of blood seeped from his thigh. But tonight, the moment he walked in, the choking scent of flowers from his collar had assaulted my nose. Usually, when he felt guilty, he’d let me rage, let me be unreasonable, swearing repeatedly that he’d never do it again. Every day he came home, I’d drag him into the bathroom, armed with a scrubbing brush and disinfectant, furiously scrubbing the inside of his thighs. Since discovering Greg’s infidelity, I’d developed a severe scent aversion. I sat numbly on the floor, staring at this man who was both familiar and a stranger. … Before I realized the surge in my nose, drops of blood were already splattering onto the bathroom tiles. Greg’s face instantly went pale. He fumbled, wiping my face clumsily with his sleeve, his voice tinged with regret. “Darling… is it the psychosomatic symptoms again?” “I’m so sorry, I got carried away. Please don’t scare me; I’ll get your medicine right away.” He stumbled out of the bathroom, the sound of drawers being frantically pulled open and shut echoing from the living room. I pushed myself up, bracing against the cold sink, then collapsed weakly onto the sofa. On the coffee table, a vase held a bouquet of roses, already withered and black. I stared blankly at the dead flowers, lost in thought. Five years ago, I sat just like this in my ex-husband’s living room. To win back his childhood sweetheart who had returned from abroad, my ex-husband secretly took intimate photos of me. Five dollars a piece, he sold two thousand of them online. The torrent of disgusting, vulgar comments completely drowned me. Then Greg appeared, staying by my side every day as I faced the whispers and gossip. He pulled me out of the abyss, and we got married. To keep me happy, he’d bring me a bouquet of flowers every day after work. Sometimes roses, sometimes daisies. Until the day he didn’t come home all night, returning the next morning with a bouquet of lilies – flowers I was allergic to. Enduring the hives, I found explicit photos of the flower vendor on his phone. When confronted, he knelt by the bed, weeping, his eyes red-rimmed, begging for forgiveness. He claimed he’d been drunk after a work event, mistook her for me, and only hugged her in bed, never “going all the way.” I believed him. But not long after, the flower vendor showed up on our doorstep, heavily pregnant. Greg dragged her to the hospital to terminate the pregnancy. He held my trembling body, vowing he would never do it again. … “Iris, where’s the medicine? Why isn’t there anything in the drawer?” Greg’s frantic searching broke my trance. He stood in the living room, his face etched with worry. I slowly stood up, leaning against the sink, stuffing tissues into my nose. “The medicine ran out ages ago.” I looked at him, my voice eerily calm. “I haven’t seen a doctor in a long time.” Greg froze, the empty medicine box trembling in his hand. The living room fell silent, save for his heavy breathing. His eyes filled with remorse, and he quickly walked over to me. “I’m so sorry, Iris. I’ve been too busy lately.” He reached out to embrace me, his voice laced with self-reproach. “I’ll take tomorrow off. I’ll go with you for your check-ups every day from now on, okay?” The moment he finished speaking, his phone, resting on the coffee table, rang. An unsaved number flashed on the screen. Greg’s body stiffened. He glanced at me, then walked onto the balcony to answer. From the other end of the line, a woman’s tearful gasp could be heard. “Greg, someone’s causing trouble at the shop, please come help me!” Greg’s brow furrowed. He grabbed his jacket, speaking into the phone as he headed for the front door. “Just put some ice on it yourself for now. I’ll be right back as soon as I deal with this.” The sound of the door closing echoed, leaving me alone in the house. I laughed derisively, throwing the withered flowers into the trash. If her happiness took precedence over mine, then I might as well give up my position as his wife. 2 I tucked the early pregnancy test results, which I’d intended as a surprise, to the bottom of my bag. Then I pulled out my suitcase, ready to pack. But a glance at the critical condition notice on the table made me pause. My mother-in-law had severe kidney failure; the doctor said she didn’t have much time left. I thought back to these past few years, how she’d tearfully held my hand, calling me the savior of the Stone family. She swore that the Stones would only recognize me as their daughter-in-law and would cherish me like their own child. The year Greg cheated, she even beat him black and blue with her cane, declaring that even if my marriage with him ended, she would still consider me her goddaughter. My heart clenched. The next second, my phone vibrated. A message from a friend. “Iris, I finally managed to get hold of that expensive foreign miracle drug you wanted to acquire!” I sighed, and eventually picked up my car keys. I decided to see this mother-in-law bond through, hoping for a good outcome for everyone. My phone was dead, so I didn’t think much of it. Without warning, I drove directly to the private estate where my mother-in-law was convalescing. My clothes were drenched from the rain as I carefully shielded the box of life-saving medicine in my arms, pushing open the slightly ajar front door. Inside, the heating was on full blast, chasing away the chill of early winter. But the desolate scene of a gravely ill woman I’d imagined was nowhere to be found. I froze in the entryway, my mind momentarily blank. In the living room, my mother-in-law, who should have been bedridden, was glowing. She was holding a two-year-old boy wearing a birthday hat, beaming with joy. A nanny was cutting a two-tiered car-shaped cake nearby. I stood stiffly, instinctively stepping back to check the house number. I thought I had come to the wrong house, or perhaps some distant relatives had brought a child to visit. But the next second, my gaze swept past them, fixing on the family portrait in the center of the living room. Greg, my mother-in-law, Lily and the boy in her arms. Only I was missing. And this spot, whenever I had visited before, was always covered with a red cloth. My mother-in-law had simply said it was because the area got dirty easily… But now, what more was there to understand? An instant, violent ringing swallowed my hearing. I trembled all over, staring intently at the boy’s face. His features, his outline, were exactly like Greg’s. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Hearing the commotion, my mother-in-law turned and saw me, dripping wet. The smile on her face froze instantly, and panic flickered in her eyes. She hurried over, reaching for my hand. “Iris, what are you doing here suddenly…? Please let me explain, things aren’t what you think…” I stiffly lowered my head, desperately trying to suppress the tremors wracking my body. “Not what I think? Then whose child is this? And what about the photo on the wall?!” My mother-in-law opened her mouth, knowing that no amount of cover-up would work now. She sighed heavily and simply confessed. “Iris, since you’ve seen everything, I’ll tell you the truth.” She took a breath. “I truly pity you! You were ruined by those hooligans back then, unable to be touched by a man. But our Stone family can’t be without an heir!” I stood rooted to the spot, listening to my mother-in-law’s earnest pleas in my ear. “Greg was drunk and confused back then, but the child is innocent…” She went on, “Don’t worry, you’ll always be the Stone family’s only legitimate daughter-in-law! I’ve already signed an agreement with that woman; she’ll be a hidden joke for the rest of her life!” I pulled at the corners of my mouth. My gaze drifted to the healthy, lively child nearby, and for a moment, I didn’t know who the real joke was. So the “bastard child” Greg swore he’d aborted, not only was born, but was already two years old. I stared at her numbly, my heart feeling as if a large hole had been gouged out of it, cold wind rushing through. After a wave of nauseating sickness churned in my stomach, I pushed my mother-in-law away and rushed out without looking back. “Iris, what are you doing?!” My mother-in-law called out, her voice muffled as if through a film of water, completely distorted. I ignored her, plunging headfirst into the cold, rainy night. 3 Back home, I pulled out the suitcase I had prepared earlier, stuffing clothes into it with an expressionless face. But it wasn’t long before the front door clicked open with a passcode. I thought it was Greg, but to my surprise, Lily walked in casually with her child. Seeing me, a defiant glint flashed in her eyes. “Iris, Greg was too tired last night. He’s still sleeping at my place.” She settled onto the sofa as if she were the lady of the house. “I just came to get his ID.” She explained. “The little one will be starting preschool in a couple of years, and we need his father’s identification for early registration.” I fought against the churning nausea in my stomach, turning my back to her. “Grab what you need and get out.” She didn’t leave. Instead, she laughed even more brazenly. “Iris, don’t be so angry.” She continued, “Greg only has this one child, after all. This house will be mine and my son’s eventually. Is there anything wrong with me bringing my child here early to get familiar with the environment and learn the place?” The little boy was rampaging through the living room, smashing toy cars everywhere. I was about to step forward to stop him when I heard a sharp “crash!” A violent shattering of porcelain echoed from the balcony. That orchid, placed on the most prominent shelf, had been knocked to the ground by the little boy. Its vibrant green leaves were crushed, soil mixed with shattered pottery fragments splattering everywhere. My mind let out a deafening “buzz,” blood rushing to my head instantly. When I was little, my parents weren’t around. My grandmother was the only one who raised me. This orchid was the only relic she left me before she passed. It was my last cherished memory and source of warmth in this world. Red-eyed, I rushed over and shoved the boy, who was still carelessly stomping on the orchid leaves. “Get out! Get out with your bastard child!” The boy stumbled, fell to the ground, and burst into uncontrollable sobs. Lily’s face instantly changed. She rushed over, fiercely shielding the child. “Iris, what’s gotten into you?! A barren woman who can’t have children, how dare you lay a hand on my son!” She looked at me, trembling, her taunts growing crueler. “No wonder Greg said touching you made him sick. You’re just a dirty, second-hand woman!” She spat. “Greg even showed me those intimate photos of you being dragged into that alley. Five-dollar photos of you in 101 poses, bought by 2000 men who used them to ‘get off.’ You think I don’t know?” I felt as if struck by lightning, all the blood in my body flowing backward in that moment. Greg had clearly promised he would spend a lifetime healing my wounds. Now, he had personally torn open my scars and turned them into fodder for his mistress’s after-dinner entertainment! Overwhelming hurt and rage completely consumed my reason. I raised my hand, putting all my strength into it. I slapped her hard across the face. “Get out!” The sharp sound of the slap resonated throughout the living room. Lily’s head whipped to the side from the impact. She clutched her instantly reddened and swollen face, staring at me in disbelief. “You’re a complete lunatic…” she muttered. Then, clutching her child, she scurried out the door. The door slammed shut with a bang. I knelt amidst the muddy mess on the floor, frantically trying to pick up the shattered orchid leaves. Tears streamed down, blurring my vision completely. I couldn’t bear to stay in this disgusting marriage for another second. 4 My hands trembling, I swallowed my antidepressants, then headed out to deliver the divorce papers to Greg. Just as I reached the dimly lit utility room beside the corridor, familiar footsteps approached. Greg stormed from the stairwell, grabbing my neck and pinning me against the load-bearing wall. “Where did you hide little Leo?!” I struggled to break free from his grip, feeling the nausea that I had just suppressed return with full force. “Cough, cough, cough… What Leo? I don’t know…” “Still pretending!” His eyes were bloodshot, his voice echoing in the stairwell. “Lily said you went crazy and hit the child, and then he disappeared! Who else could it be but you?!” Blood rushed to my head. “I told you I haven’t seen him. If you don’t believe me, check the security footage!” “Iris, you’re just stalling!” He suddenly grabbed my hand, roughly dragging me into the abandoned storage room next to the rooftop. With a “bang,” the iron door slammed shut, plunging the room into instant darkness. I struggled to get up, but Greg pinned me down, his knee pressing hard against my leg. He violently ripped my skirt. The world before my eyes blurred, leaving only the ringing in my ears. “Let go of me!” He sneered, pulling out the high-concentration cleaning solution I carried in my bag, which had spilled on the floor. The next second, the cold, pungent cleaner was uncapped and brutally poured all over my thighs. A fiery, stinging pain instantly scorched my skin. “You can’t have children yourself, so you hurt someone else’s?!” He spat. “Let me see, this area of yours… it’s been touched by many people, hasn’t it?” He sneered, “What’s with the innocent victim act? After all those people used you, you probably loved every minute of it, didn’t you?!” I struggled, trying to run out, but Greg slapped me again, sending me crashing to the floor. “Didn’t you think about this day when you kidnapped Leo?” He growled. “I need to make you understand that my patience has limits!” The overpowering smell of chemicals, the man’s brutal restraint, the absolute darkness. Those vicious words instantly merged with my ex-husband’s curses. Countless dirty hands tearing at my clothes in that alley flashed madly through my mind. My stomach churned with overwhelming nausea, and I let out a desperate cry, kicking at him with all my might. In the violent struggle, my lower abdomen slammed hard against the sharp, rusted edge of an abandoned metal frame nearby. A muffled “thump.” An unbearable, searing pain instantly shot through my entire body. Warm blood, mixed with the pungent cleaner, slowly flowed down my thighs onto the cold concrete floor. I convulsed in pain, seemingly dragged back into that surreal world of memory. My ex-husband’s cold indifference as he allowed his beloved to leak my intimate photos, the overwhelming mockery from classmates and friends. “This stuff is strong; one sip and you’re out. Just shoot, any way you want!” “Such a loose woman, why don’t you just die?!” My vision flickered in and out, until the liquid beneath me felt hot, then tight and dry. Only then did Greg’s hands cease their brutal work. His phone suddenly rang in his pocket. He released his grip, answering the call and putting it on speaker. The hurried voice of the building security guard came through. “Mr. Stone, we found the child!” The security guard announced. “The little guy was playing around and got on a bus. He’s perfectly fine at the terminal; false alarm!” In the darkness, Greg was stunned for a moment. Then, with a relieved sigh, he pushed open the locked door. Sunlight streamed in, a little blinding. I looked up blankly. The rain had stopped, but the rooftop was still overcast. Faintly, I thought I saw my grandmother’s figure in the sky. Greg hung up the phone, remorsefully turning his head. He had just opened his mouth to say, “Iris… I’m sorry…” But I ignored him, gathering every ounce of strength, and suddenly rushed towards the edge of the rooftop! Greg’s face instantly went pale. “Iris!”

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I was right there when John dragged her ex-boyfriend, Lucas, into the hotel room. She turned to me, a cold sneer twisting her lips. “Haven’t you always doubted me?” “Well, now I’ll do everything right in front of you.” Soon, the room filled with the blush-inducing sounds of gasps and whispers. In that moment, I knew with chilling clarity that John and I were completely over. After that, no matter what she did, I never felt jealous again, nor did I ever confront her. Once, a broadcast reported a rumor about her and Lance. Hearing it, she immediately turned off the radio, eager to explain herself to me. I simply replied, nonchalantly, “I know. Those are all false.” But she still wasn’t reassured and continued to explain frantically. I couldn’t help but smile, telling her, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep your secret. I won’t tell Mom and Dad.” She slammed on the brakes, her face instantly turning ashen. 1. The moment John took Lance to that hotel room, our relationship ended. When I heard her and Lance’s names combined again, praising them as a match made in heaven, I didn’t crumble as I’d imagined. Lance was a social media influencer, gaining many followers by filming his daily life as an overseas student. A month ago, a live photo he posted on social media featured John. In the image, John’s figure flashed by, along with a box of condoms. Soon, someone dug up John’s identity. The live photo quickly became a trending topic. In Lance’s comment section, fans were asking: [Lance, tell us honestly, are you in love?] [This woman looks like the CEO of the Vinc Group.] [Wow, the woman in the GIF looks so beautiful.] Seeing these messages, I stood frozen. The conspicuous condoms in the photo brazenly declared the relationship between a man and a woman, and I felt a chill run through me. Back home, I waited for John’s explanation. She simply dismissed it in a few words. “Just a misunderstanding.” Seeing no reaction from me, she added: “I’ve already had them take down the trending topic.” After that, Lance’s name frequently appeared in my life. I heard colleagues gossiping at work. Every one of his posts was precisely pushed to me by big data. His and John’s rumors intensified. Netizens speculated widely about their relationship. 2. That weekend, John was away on a business trip. My best friend and I had made plans to go to a hot springs resort. There, I saw John and Lance. John was wearing a bikini, her perfect figure exposed to the air, with a suit jacket draped over her. Lance’s shirt collar was slightly open, his sleeves rolled up, and his suit trousers hugged his long legs, his posture casual and relaxed. Walking side by side, they looked like a match made in heaven in the eyes of others. John tilted her head slightly, listening to Lance speak. I don’t know what he said, but they both smiled in sync. I watched them enter the same private room. I followed, and inexplicably, pushed open the door. My mouth moved faster than my brain, uttering the accusing words: “John, you and Lance went to a room and slept together, didn’t you?” I froze on the spot. Everyone in the room turned to stare at me. John looked at me, her eyes indifferent. She withdrew her gaze, her thin lips parting slightly. “Assistant Chen, close the door.” I almost forgot how to breathe. John’s attitude made me feel embarrassed and humiliated. I lost all desire for the hot springs. After greeting my friend, I left the resort. John returned home that evening. I felt apologetic for what happened that morning, but I couldn’t help but feel wronged. A bitter sourness surged from deep within me, and I couldn’t suppress it. I couldn’t help but ask her. “John, did you cheat on me?” “What’s your relationship with him?” She glanced at me indifferently, her attitude cold and distant. “Ethan, what kind of relationship do you want me to have with him?” “In front of so many people, did you consider his future position?” My mind stalled, my heart sinking little by little. Her indifferent attitude was like a knife, piercing my heart without mercy. John glared at me coldly, then withdrew her gaze and disappeared from the living room. 3. After that, we fell into a cold war. John frequently went on business trips. The complete breakdown happened at one of John’s hotels. I saw Lance and John appear together in the hotel lobby. They took the elevator together to the penthouse suite. I followed them. “John.” She and Lance both stopped, turning to look at me. I asked her: “Your ‘business trip,’ was it actually taking your ex-boyfriend to a hotel room?” John just sneered. “Alright, haven’t you been suspecting me of cheating?” “Do you want me to show you everything, right in front of you?” She grabbed Lance’s arm and pulled him into the suite. Her eyes, dark and deep, fixed on me. “What, aren’t you going to come in and see what happens between him and me?” With that, John slammed the door shut. My eyes burned, my throat tightened, and for a moment, I couldn’t say anything. As I stepped into the elevator area, an unknown number called. The caller didn’t speak, only the faint, fragmented gasps of a woman came through. I froze for a long time… This ambiguous sound confirmed that John and Lance had crossed a line. My nose instantly stung with pain, and I knew John and I were truly over. I hailed a cab and left. Sitting in the car, I scrolled through Lance’s secondary social media account. His high school and college accounts had been dug up by netizens, and his relationship timeline with John had been meticulously compiled. He and John were high school classmates and started dating after graduating high school. They both went to King’s University, in different majors. Through Lance’s account, I seemed to see a different John. John would patiently accompany him to take photos at various trendy spots and even learned photography for him. She went with him to Disneyland, to the beach. Lance’s secondary account was filled with the pink sweetness of their love. The words he shared conveyed the strong affection between him and John. [She specially honed her photography skills for me; she loves me more than I love myself.] Under this post, someone commented: [Lance, I’m your junior, I also got into King’s from King’s First High. I heard about you and senior John in high school. You guys are so sweet, wishing you two forever.] John replied to the junior: [Thank you, he and I will be together happily.] The long-dormant King’s University forum buzzed with discussions about John and Lance again. [John and Lance were a match made in heaven at our school back then, but later Lance went to study abroad, and they seemed to break up.] [So, it’s a rekindled romance now?] [I have a bold guess: Lance seems to come from an ordinary family; it would be hard to afford his overseas studies, right? Could John have paid for it? That’s even more swoon-worthy, CEO John “working” domestically to support her husband.] John flew to California every year, and Lance’s alma mater was located in California. My hand, holding the phone, trembled slightly; I dared not overthink it. 4. Ten minutes after I arrived home, John also got back. Her clothes were neat, and she looked perfectly composed. My eyes were still a little red, and I didn’t meet her gaze directly. John stepped forward and took my hand. She explained to me. “Nothing happened between him and me.” “Tonight, those were just words spoken in anger.” She explained, but it was too late. I nodded gently. “I understand.” I didn’t speak to her for the entire evening. The next day, not feeling well, I took a cab to work at the hospital. When it was time to leave, I suddenly didn’t feel like going home. My colleague was on night duty but needed to attend his child’s parent-teacher conference, so I covered his shift. Tonight’s night shift was very busy. Several emergency patients were admitted. Only when I came out of the operating room did I see over a dozen missed calls on my phone. Liam, my colleague, rushed back after the parent-teacher conference. “Ethan, thanks a lot.” “I heard several emergencies came in tonight, and you did another surgery. You must be tired.” “I brought you a bubble tea.” I didn’t stand on ceremony with Liam; I took the bubble tea. “Thanks, Liam.” “I’m heading out then.” Liam smiled. “It’s I who should be thanking you.” It was almost midnight when I left the hospital. I had taken a cab in the morning, and I took one back now. After getting in the car, I properly checked my phone. All the missed calls were from John. She had sent messages: [Where are you?] [I’m waiting for you in the hospital parking garage.] I was already in the car. [No need.] [I’m on my way home.] Shortly after I arrived home, John also rushed back. Since that day, my feelings for her had changed. Her sudden return home made me feel a little lost. We stood facing each other, and I only felt extremely awkward. John’s gaze, however, was fixed tightly on me. I avoided her eyes. Seeing her, I would think of Lance. I would remember her pulling Lance into the hotel, and Lance’s call softly murmuring in my ear. I would remember everything about her and Lance’s relationship over the past few years. I used to share everything that happened at the hospital and what I ate each day with John. I was always the one trying to find topics to talk about. Now, I realized we had almost nothing to say to each other, making the entire space extremely quiet. It made me recall Lance’s diary entries during their relationship. [How can she talk so much? I’m almost falling asleep, and she’s still going on about what happened in the lab today.] Thinking of that, my heart suddenly tightened. John abruptly spoke. “Weren’t you on day shift today? Why are you so late?” I could feel her eyes on me. I didn’t meet her gaze, turning my back to her and walking to the dining table to pour water. “Mhm.” I didn’t explain, nor did I bother to. There was no need to be so clear with her. When I turned around, she was standing in front of me. Her thin lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something. I spoke first, and she swallowed her words. “I’m going to take a shower first.” When I came out, John was standing at the door. I was startled. Our eyes met unexpectedly, and I nodded awkwardly. Lying awake at night, my mind wandered. Just lying in the same bed made me feel uncomfortable. 5. John wakes early. By the time I wake up, she has already washed up and changed. Breakfast is laid out on the table. John’s expression is cool and aloof. Seeing the breakfast spread, I get a little lost in thought. I think of Lance’s social media posts again. [Last night I said I wanted a sandwich for breakfast, and when I woke up, I saw her in the kitchen preparing it for me.] [Her cooking is getting better and better.] Someone commented in the comments section: [Senior is so lucky.] Lance replied: [Hehe, I wish you could also find your own happiness.] Until John calls out: “Ethan.” “Breakfast is ready.” I snap back to reality and glance at the time. “You eat. I don’t have time.” A hand grips my arm. John’s narrow eyes look at me. Her gaze is deep. “There’s time. I’ll take you.” I sit down and eat a few bites casually. “Tonight, Grandpa wants us back at the old house for dinner.” “I’ll pick you up from the hospital in the evening.” I nod. “Okay.” As I stand up, John also rises. Her voice is rather cold. “I’ll take you.” I reject her without hesitation. “No need.” Her brow furrows slightly, and I immediately leave. 6. Liam and I ate lunch together in the cafeteria. Liam brought up the topic of going to Riverton for further study. He sighed. “Oh, my son has his college entrance exam this year, I don’t have time to go.” “Families like ours at the hospital certainly aren’t willing to go.” “And newly married doctors, it’s even less likely they’d go.” I said, “Liam, if you’re not going, I will.” Liam paused. “Ethan, are you sure?” I nod. “Yes, I want to take this opportunity to learn.” After lunch, I immediately contacted my supervisor and filled out the application form. Towards the end of my shift, John called me. I put it on speakerphone, and Liam and a few colleagues happened to walk by, looking at me with gossipy smiles. “Ethan, girlfriend?” I smiled, denying it. “No.” John said, “I’m in your hospital’s underground parking lot.” “Okay, I’ll be right down.” In the dim parking lot, a woman stood beside a black G-Wagon, her figure tall and slender, her back cool and aloof. I walked towards her. Unexpectedly, I ran into Liam in the parking lot. Liam smiled as he walked towards me, his eyebrow raised slightly. “Ethan, girlfriend?” “She’s not bad-looking.” My mind quickly whirred, and I spun a lie. “No, she’s my cousin.” John looked at me, her gaze deepening. Liam understood, losing his gossipy interest. “I’m heading off.” Once in the car, John’s throat subtly moved as she turned to face me. “Why did you say that just now?” I explained frankly. “I didn’t want my colleagues to misunderstand.” John paused slightly, her brow imperceptibly furrowing. “Misunderstand?” The car drove out of the parking lot. The familiar voice of a marketing account on the car’s entertainment channel was broadcasting. “Vinc Group CEO John Davies and influencer Lance Miller were recently spotted together at a new resort in Riverton. John was wearing a sexy bikini, and Lance draped his suit jacket over her. The two exuded immense sexual tension.” John immediately turned off the radio. She explained, “You were there that day, and there were other business partners present.” I replied, with a light, calm tone, “I know.” John spoke again. “Nothing happened between him and me.” I smiled thinly, assuming she was worried I’d tell our elders. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep it a secret. I won’t tell Grandpa.” John slammed on the brakes, her face suddenly turning pale. She looked at me, emotions swirling in her eyes.

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My husband, Aaron, and I were supposed to go on our honeymoon to Bali. At the boarding gate, he suddenly stopped, his expression casual, and spoke. He said our love had received everyone’s blessings, so he wouldn’t be going on the honeymoon. I froze, completely unable to process it, only able to stare blankly and ask him what he meant. He smiled, took off the wedding ring from his ring finger, and gently placed it in my palm. He told me he had a “canary” he needed to tend to constantly and had already promised to be with her. He also said that marrying me had already made him indebted to that woman; I got the title of Mrs. Morris, and she got him, which he considered fair. My head buzzed, my lips bit until they bled, and I tremblingly asked him when this had happened. His tone carried a hint of apology, yet he seemed innocent, saying it had been going on for half a year. He hadn’t dared to bring it up because of my fiery temper. He said he’d wanted to marry me since he was a child, but a man couldn’t possibly love only one person his entire life. He even suggested that if I felt wronged, we could each “play the field,” and it pained him to see me upset. The wedding ring in my palm still gleamed with a pure white light, but the pregnancy test tucked in my pocket felt searing hot, as if about to burn. I smiled, though tears streamed down my face, and nodded at him. I said he was right; I shouldn’t wrong myself. 1 Aaron paused for two seconds, then smiled and ruffled my hair, a relieved chuckle escaping him. “Good, glad you’ve come to your senses. With your temper, I was genuinely worried you’d go after Rosalie.” “Oh, by the way, where did you put your wedding dress? I was a little too rough with her last night; her nail caught the lace on the skirt lining. She’s been meaning to fix it for you.” It felt as though someone had clamped their hand around my throat. A chill spread from the soles of my feet through my entire body. He, however, seemed oblivious, smiling apologetically. “She was crying, begging me to let her try on your wedding dress, wanting to be my bride just once. You’re both women, you can understand, right?” I looked at his flippant gaze, and three hours ago, I recalled how, supported by my best friend, I had been walked down the aisle, wearing this very wedding dress — a symbol of happiness now stained with my husband’s and his mistress’s lust — to be given to the man before me. A wave of sickening nausea instantly surged into my throat. The ring dug into my palm, and I trembled with pain. He took off his overcoat and draped it over my shoulders, gently embracing me, soothing, “Why are you shaking? Mrs. Morris will always be you.” Aaron’s charming eyes still held an impossibly deep affection. It was as if he wasn’t the one who had just casually mentioned messing around with another woman for a year, engaging in passionate embraces while she wore my wedding dress. A jarring sense of absurdity washed over me, leaving me gasping for air. He sighed in resignation. “I know you’re upset, but the young lady is willing to be with me without any status, and she’s even generous enough not to contend for your position as Mrs. Morris. If I don’t spend more time with her, what kind of man would I be?” “Rosalie is different from other women, very pure and self-respecting. If she didn’t truly love me, she would never be a ‘canary.’ She’s sacrificed so much for me; I can’t let her down. Even though you have a fiery temper, you’ve always been reasonable, you understand me, right?” Love? I almost laughed until tears came. I loved him too. My temper was indeed fiery, yet in front of him, I softened, making myself humble and accommodating. I was reasonable, yet I would stubbornly hound paparazzi over a scandalous rumor about him, arguing with respected elders to clear his name. My love he ignored, another woman’s love he cherished. I curled my cold fingers, closing my eyes in self-mockery. “If you’re so in love, then let’s get a divorce.” Aaron paused for two seconds, then chuckled softly. “I just complimented you on your improved temper, and now you’re going to make a scene?” “You’ve been with me since you were eighteen, and you’ve had two miscarriages. If you leave me, what man out there would dare take you on?” I stared at him, my heart feeling like a red-hot coal had rolled over it. Twenty-eight years. We’d escaped the orphanage together, slept under bridges, shared a single bowl of instant noodles. During our toughest times, we only had water to fill our stomachs. Because we had no money for birth control or abortions, I endured the freezing cold, climbing stairs only to fall down them, bearing the pain and crying until I was exhausted as I lost two children. Aaron knelt by my bedside, stabbing himself twice. His blood-stained hand tremblingly covered my eyes, his words ringing in my ears, “Charlotte, I promise I’ll give you a good life. If I ever wrong you, may I be struck by lightning.” The promise was heavy. I believed it for half my life and was willful for half my life. The physical harm, the mental stress, the mundane drudgery of everyday life… all meant I couldn’t always have a gentle temper. Until half an hour ago, when Aaron held me and solemnly promised our friend he’d be good to me forever, I thought following him had been worth it my entire life. My phone rang. The ringtone was distinctive. It had appeared many times in the night, and Aaron always said it was a client. Because I trusted him so much, I never doubted. Now I realized how foolish I’d been. He didn’t answer immediately, his voice calm, as if placating an unreasonable child. “Why bother with a mere distraction? Are we really going to abandon our twenty-eight years together because of an outsider?” “You’re not young anymore, Charlotte. No parents, no job. Only I will support you. Any more drama, and it won’t be appropriate.” He handed his luggage to his assistant. “I’ll have my assistant accompany you to relax. I’m going to be with Rosalie. Think carefully about what I’ve said.” The moment Aaron turned to leave, he answered the phone. “Baby, Daddy’s on his way…” That word, “Daddy,” felt like a slap, sharply stinging my face. I ran to the restroom, gagging until my face was streaked with tears. Taking out the searing hot pregnancy test from my pocket, I pulled out my phone and made a call. Aaron was right; I shouldn’t wrong myself. Too weak for a honeymoon, I dismissed the assistant and walked alone towards our marital home. Entering the password, I opened the door. A faint, intimate gasp from a man drifted out. “Could your uncle and aunt have been prescient? Naming you Rosalie is truly fitting.” “Ever since I’ve been with you, I’ve barely touched her. I told her I was ‘sexually repressed,’ except for that one time I tricked her into giving me the property deed to transfer the house to you.” “She’s pitiable? The position of Mrs. Morris is hers. The one I need to compensate now is you.” “So kind-hearted. How about Daddy gives you his life?” Each brazen, flippant word, laced with disdain, assaulted my ears. I stood frozen in the doorway, my body tingling as if shocked. Six months ago, Aaron had shown me a diagnosis report for “sexual repression,” his face full of apology. “Honey, our future marital life might be compromised. Please don’t leave me, okay?” I felt sorry for him, trying every way to please him, but it was always fruitless. Until two months ago, when he suddenly came home drunk and we were intimate. I thought my efforts had finally worked, but it was just a reluctant act for him to set up a property for his canary… That’s when I conceived the child. Though it was the warmest part of early spring, I felt as if I were in a world of ice and snow. An hour later, Aaron emerged from the bedroom, arm-in-arm with a strikingly beautiful woman. Seeing me in the living room, Rosalie reacted as if greatly startled, her eyes instantly reddening. “Sister, it’s all my fault. This is your and Aaron’s marital home. I shouldn’t have come here, but I really loved this villa so much. I thought you were away on vacation and wouldn’t run into me, but I didn’t expect…” She suddenly pouted, bursting into tears. “Please don’t blame Aaron, and please don’t kick me out. I truly love Aaron, I’m not here to break you two up, I’m here to join you.” With that, she dropped to her knees before me, kowtowing repeatedly. Aaron’s face instantly changed. He urgently pulled her into his arms, comforting and soothing her gently. “Didn’t I tell you not to hurt yourself no matter what you do? Why don’t you ever listen? It pains me.” “Oh, never mind. You’re naturally kind and simple; you’ll never change. I’ll just have to protect you more.” He looked at me, a flicker of complexity and impatience in his eyes. “Charlotte, you’ve scared her. I should have known you wouldn’t leave quietly. Now that you’ve caused a scene, are you happy?” The sudden rhetorical question left my mind blank for a moment. I hadn’t said a single word since I entered the house. This villa was Aaron’s and my marital home. I was his legally wedded wife, Mrs. Morris. Yet, for his canary, even witnessing the culprit who destroyed everything was a mistake. Seeing my sarcastic smile, Aaron’s eyes flickered. He suddenly released Rosalie and walked towards me, his voice softening. “Alright, both of you are my darlings. You’re both equally precious to me. From now on, the three of us will live in this villa together.” “This afternoon, there’s a banquet. Come with me.” Just as I was about to refuse, Aaron interrupted me. “Rosalie is going too. It’s her first time at such an event. You can help her with her dress and lend her some support.” I froze, finding it ridiculously amusing. Then, remembering the little time I had left, I didn’t argue further. Before the banquet, Rosalie claimed she had no suitable dress and picked out a unique couture gown and accessories from my wardrobe – the ones I had worn as Mrs. Morris for Aaron’s company’s IPO debut. She walked in, arm in arm with Aaron, while I held her train, becoming the center of attention. The guests’ ridicule followed me like a shadow. “Mr. Morris really knows how to manage a wife. His wife holds up his mistress’s skirt and dares not utter a peep.” “They call her Mrs. Morris, but really she’s just a glorified maid, worse than a dog.” “This Charlotte Price must be an idiot, used for over two decades and gained nothing. She might as well be dead.” I fled the banquet hall, wanting to hide in the restroom. Instead, a sharp slap landed on my face. Clutching my stinging cheek, I stared incredulously at the woman before me. Rosalie flexed her wrist, the facade of gentleness stripped away from her face. “Aaron and I were like that right in front of you, and you still shamelessly cling to him. Aren’t you pathetic?!” “You garbage, born of no mother and raised by no one, divorce Aaron quickly, or one day, you might lose an arm or a leg, and that wouldn’t be good…” My head buzzed. All I saw was the woman’s sharp, vicious face, her mouth constantly opening and closing. I laughed in fury, but Rosalie didn’t give me a chance to retaliate. She suddenly shrieked, tore open the chest of her gown, and fell backward. “Charlotte Price!” Aaron rushed over from the center of the banquet, helping Rosalie up and pulling her into his embrace. She cried, unable to stand, tears flowing instantly. “Aaron, I know I’m the other woman, and I ruined your marriage with Miss Price. I already know I was wrong. I shouldn’t have appeared. I’m a vicious wretch!” With that, she repeated her trick, slapping herself twice hard across the face. Aaron grabbed her hands, his jaw clenched. “Who said those things?” Rosalie bit her lip, clutching her clothes tightly. “Please, don’t ask.” But as her eyes swept over me, her body trembled. “Someone like me can’t afford to offend rich and powerful ladies like you. Aaron, I was too naive, thinking love could conquer all. I’m not worthy of you. Please let me go. I don’t want to be inexplicably killed one day.” Aaron’s brows knitted tightly, his gaze fixed on me, hostile. “Explain!” I lowered my hand, revealing my swollen, red cheek. “You should ask her what she said.” “Miss Price!” Rosalie shrieked, her voice sharp and piercing. “Yes, I slapped you, but that was because you threatened my parents’ lives! They’re just ordinary people. If you’re still not satisfied, let me hit you back. Please, don’t hurt them.” My eyes turned red with anger. “You’re lying! It was clearly you…” “Enough.” Aaron cut me off coldly, looking at me with disappointment. “Charlotte, I’ve spoiled you rotten.” “Do you think because you have no parents, I can’t touch you?” Perhaps I had expected it, or perhaps I had already grown disheartened. I offered a futile smile, my eyes burning with pain. “So, how do you plan to protect your darling?” He slowly walked towards me, deliberately pulling off the good luck charm he had personally made for me, the one around my neck, when he earned his first fortune. He turned and instructed his assistant, “Call the police. Mrs. Morris has committed theft, caught red-handed.” I forgot how to move, my mind a blank. Aaron’s path to success hadn’t been easy; he was accustomed to ruthlessness. I was his only weakness. Regardless of right or wrong, he had always taken my side over what was logical. But now, he was the one plunging the knife into my heart. Aaron caressed the good luck charm, his cold features growing increasingly unfamiliar in my blurred vision. “Charlotte, you’ve been a very naughty girl. Go inside and reflect for a few days.” “Don’t worry, it won’t be long. When you come out, I’ll put the good luck charm back on you myself.” I gave a sarcastic twist of my lips. As the police officer walked in, handcuffing me, I expressionlessly pulled my hand from his grip. The sudden emptiness of the touch made Aaron frown uneasily. He stared at my retreating back, a nagging feeling that he could never hold onto me again. Just as he was about to step forward, Rosalie took his arm first. “Aaron, thank you for sticking up for me. I was so scared just now.” Aaron clicked his tongue, playfully pinching her cheek. “What do you want as compensation?” Rosalie smiled, taking the good luck charm from his hand and tossing it into the trash. Seeing his face change, she immediately pouted, her eyes reddening with feigned grievance. “Is it that important?” Rosalie made a move to rummage through the trash. “Then I’ll help you find it. After all, it’s a memento from your childhood. Even if she hurt me, I don’t want you to be troubled.” Aaron put his arm around her waist, completely softened. “You’re much more important. Don’t get your hands dirty. Here’s my black card, buy whatever you want.” Rosalie defiantly refused. “I don’t want your money, I only love you.” “Yes, yes, I want to spend money on my darling. If you don’t spend it, I’m not happy.” Rosalie then reluctantly accepted. Three days later, I was disoriented as I was led out of the confined room. I was escorted straight into a private room at a club. Pushing the door open, Aaron and Rosalie were sharing a grape in the center of the sofa. The grape dropped, and they leaned in, kissing passionately. The cheers and catcalls of the men and women around them almost blew the roof off. I don’t know how long passed before Aaron finally saw me standing in the doorway. He stared at my gaunt, pale face, his expression immediately darkening. “What’s wrong? Did someone bully you in there?” Before I could speak, Rosalie let out a derisive snort. “Sister Charlotte really knows how to manipulate men. With your relationship with Aaron, who would dare bully you? That sickly makeup you’ve put on looks so realistic; it must have taken you ages.” Aaron, who was about to stand up, settled back down at her words. He took out a cigarette, lighting it with the flame Rosalie offered. The smoke blurred his features; only his eyes, looking at me, showed suppressed impatience. “Since you’ve reflected enough, come over and apologize to Rosalie.” Rosalie, dressed in white, sat obediently nestled in Aaron’s arms, swirling a glass of unknown strength liquor. “Actually, I don’t want to make things difficult for you either.” “But you insulted my parents and threatened to kill them. Anyone would be upset, right?” She paused, then, remembering something, let out a strange exclamation. “Oh, I forgot. Your parents abandoned you when you were little. If it weren’t for Aaron, you would have starved to death by now.” I said nothing. Aaron’s face was grim, and he remained silent. Rosalie placed her drink on the coffee table and smiled. “Drink up.” I lowered my head. “I’m sorry.” Rosalie shook her head. “Just saying it isn’t sincere enough. This drink is 120 proof. You should drink it.” I stared at the bubbling green liquid, instinctively looking at Aaron. In the years I helped him build his empire, I had already developed a perforated stomach from drinking at business functions. Every time I drank, I ended up in the ICU. From then on, Aaron never let me touch alcohol again. But the man before me now merely exhaled a puff of smoke, his indifferent expression as if saying the weather was nice today. “Charlotte, it’s just one drink. Your tolerance isn’t that bad.” I had long given up hope, but my heart still tightened uncontrollably. I picked it up and swallowed. The scorching pain seared from my throat down to my stomach. My lower abdomen sank, and I stumbled, doubled over in pain. “Miss Price’s alcohol tolerance is so good, then drink a few more glasses.” Rosalie pointed to a row of colorful drinks on the table. My face went cold. Rosalie looked at Aaron, her expression aggrieved. “Aaron, I was called a mistress, threatened with my parents’ death, and suffered such immense emotional damage. Is it too much to ask for this small compensation?” “Of course not too much,” Aaron said, putting his arm around her, grinding his cigarette butt into the ashtray. “Charlotte, I want to help you too, but you went too far. Listen to Rosalie. Once she’s appeased, you can atone.” I nodded calmly. Clutching my stomach, which felt like it was being twisted by a knife, I picked up the decanter on the table. “A few drinks aren’t enough for atonement. I’ll chug the bottle.” When the bottle hit the floor, I couldn’t help but cough up blood, collapsing weakly onto the ground. Rosalie recoiled several steps in disgust. “Miss Price, it was just one bottle of wine. Do you really need to use a blood bag?” Aaron was also convinced by this reasoning, his brow furrowing impatiently. “Alright, how long are you going to keep up this act? Rosalie has been merciful enough to you. Stop making a spectacle of yourself and get up.” I said nothing, looking up at him. The woman closest to me suddenly shrieked, “Blood! Her pants are covered in blood! This is… she’s having a miscarriage…” I met Aaron’s instantly bloodless face, revealing my most genuine smile of the day. “Your child is also compensated to her. Is that enough?”

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Three years ago, my family sent me to the “Perfect Husband Academy.” It began when my wife, Jenny, brought home an AI butler named Caspian. After that, I became a ghost in my own home. Jenny said I only cared about work. My daughter, Annie, thought I wasn’t as good as “Papa Caspian” with homework or technology. Even my parents would say if I were half as steady as him, they’d be enjoying their retirement. Once, during an argument, I broke Caspian’s processor. Jenny screamed at me, pushing me away. Annie looked at me with fear and dislike. My father said I couldn’t handle work or family, and had a terrible temper—I was worse than a machine. They said I didn’t know how to be a husband, father, or son, so they sent me to the academy to learn. I was forced to this correctional facility for men, swapping places with Caspian. Now, three years later, my “rehabilitation” is done. My wife, daughter, and parents have come to pick me up for “graduation.” They call my name through the glass. I sit quietly, posture erect, showing no reaction. The dean reminds them that to speak to a qualified perfect husband, they must use the wake-up phrase. He says, “Please say: Perfect Husband Mode, activate.” … 1 Jenny stands outside the car. My parents stand beside her, their eyes a little red. Ten-year-old Annie peeks out from behind Jenny, her eyes curious. “Perfect Husband Mode, activate!” I blink, stand straight, hands at my sides, and bow ninety degrees. “Perfect Husband Mode activated. Please state your command.” My voice is flat, like an electronic announcement. Jenny stares at me for three seconds before saying, “Get in the car. We’re going home.” On the way back, my mother’s voice trembles. “Ash, my boy, how have you been these past three years… in there?” I don’t answer. “Ash.” Jenny’s brows furrow. “Mom is asking you a question.” “Interrogative sentences are not valid commands,” I say, looking at the road ahead. “To retrieve information, please use clear, imperative statements.” My father coughs sharply. After a moment, Jenny utters two dry words. “Report.” “Yes.” I respond instantly, like a recording playing. “Student Ash, number 7749, has completed all core courses, including ‘Efficient Income Generation and Asset Planning,’ ‘Absolute Emotional Management and Stress Endurance,’ ‘Family Needs Prediction and One Hundred Percent Responsibility Implementation,’ and ‘Integration of Traditional Husbandly Duties and Modern Family Roles.’ Graduation comprehensive assessment: Excellent. Academy evaluation: A model perfect husband for the new era, excelling in both career and family, recommended as a benchmark for promotion.” Every word is precise, steady, and cold. My mother’s eyes widen in astonishment. Annie whispers, “Daddy sounds just like Uncle Caspian.” Jenny’s knuckles whiten as she grips the steering wheel. When we arrive home, Caspian stands at the door, a perfectly polite smile on his face. “Madam is back.” His voice is gentle as he takes Jenny’s bag. “Annie got a perfect score on her math test today; the paper has been put away. Dad, Mom, your herbal tea is brewed; have some to relax.” Finally, he looks at me, his smile impeccable. “Ash, welcome home.” I don’t respond. He hasn’t used a command. “Ash,” Jenny’s voice deepens. “Caspian is welcoming you.” “No command for response or greeting received,” I reply. Jenny’s voice rises. “Here’s your command now: Thank Caspian! Thank him for taking care of the family during this time.” I turn to Caspian and nod. “Thank you.” Caspian’s smile doesn’t waver. “It’s my pleasure.” Dinner is an eight-course meal with soup, prepared by Caspian. In the past, they always complained that I was a workaholic, either working late or dealing with work at home, forgetting family birthdays, neglecting household chores, not being a “qualified” husband and father. “Caspian’s cooking gets better and better,” my father says. “It really does, even more refined than a high-end restaurant,” my mother agrees. Annie eats with her cheeks puffed out. “Uncle Caspian’s food is the best!” Jenny picks up a piece of spare rib and places it in my bowl. “Eat.” “Command confirmed: Ingest.” I pick up my chopsticks, take the spare rib, put it in my mouth, chew twenty times, swallow, put down my chopsticks, place my hands back on my knees, and wait. Everyone at the table stares at me. “Just… just one piece?” My mother’s voice is dry. “Academy rule: Dinner intake not to exceed two hundred grams. This piece of spare rib is approximately one hundred twenty grams, exceeding the limit, and will be deducted from tomorrow’s breakfast portion,” I reply. Jenny slams her chopsticks on the table. The whole family falls silent for a moment. After dinner, I stand up to clear the dishes. Caspian tries to help, but I step aside. “Please do not interfere with task execution,” I say. Caspian withdraws his hand and looks at Jenny, a hint of appropriate helplessness in his eyes. Jenny rubs her temples. “Let him do it.” I enter the kitchen and take over the dishwashing. Water flow, temperature, detergent ratio, wiping frequency… I strictly follow the academy’s standard procedures. The dishes gleam like new, the sink counter spotless. My mother leans against the kitchen doorway for a long time, finally unable to resist. “Ash, you… you don’t have to be so…” “Cleaning task completed. What is the next command?” I turn off the faucet, pivot, my hands at my sides. Her words catch in her throat, and she eventually just waves her hand. Later that night, Jenny lies beside me. I can smell her faint perfume, a floral-fruity scent I bought for her three years ago. “Ash.” Her voice softens. “Look at me.” I turn to her, my gaze direct, devoid of emotion. “Do you hate me?” she asks. 2 I respond, “Command unclear, unable to execute.” Jenny starts to speak, then stops. She turns to face me, trying to get closer. I immediately tense my body, even holding my breath. She sees my eyes, empty, without warmth or desire, only a blankness awaiting a command. “What…” Her voice is hoarse. “What did they do to you at the academy?” I don’t answer. It’s not a command. She turns away in frustration, her voice low, as if talking to herself. “…Never mind, let’s sleep.” The next day is Annie’s school sports day. She starts complaining early in the morning. “Daddy, please don’t be like before, just talking on the phone about work, or making a stern face saying my movements aren’t standard. It’s so embarrassing.” I put down my chopsticks. “Command confirmed: Maintain focus in public, do not handle work communications, do not provide technical guidance. Would you like me to simulate Caspian’s behavior? Data shows he typically offers encouraging smiles, provides electrolyte drinks after races, and says, ‘Annie’s happiness is most important, rank doesn’t matter.’” “Daddy! I don’t want you to be like him!” Annie’s eyes redden. I nod. “Command modified. According to the schedule, the sports day begins at nine sharp. I will now prepare related items.” As I leave the dining table, I hear Annie’s choked sobs of grievance. “Daddy’s so weird, old Daddy never talked to me like this, I want Daddy to go back to how he was!” Midway through the sports day, while helping Annie organize her things, an old injury flares up. It was from a few years ago when Annie was running around a shopping mall and almost hit by a falling decoration. I dove to shield her, and a sharp object pierced my lower left abdomen. I lost a lot of blood and stayed in the hospital for a long time. Jenny cried many times by my bedside, calling me her and Annie’s hero. A sharp pain shoots through my lower back, but in the academy, such unnecessary pain must be suppressed or ignored to maintain a hundred percent family pillar status. When I first entered the academy, I was punished with electric shocks for moaning in pain during training. Any display of weakness or failure in emotional control would result in more severe physical punishment. I stand on the sidelines, my face pale, watching Annie and Caspian run a “father-son” relay race. Caspian’s movements are standard and full of vitality. Onlookers say enviously to Jenny, “Your husband is amazing. Successful in his career, yet so dedicated to his family, and great at sports too.” Jenny just forces a smile. Caspian walks over, holding Annie’s hand. “Is Ash feeling unwell?” He looks at me, his eyes showing concern. “You look a bit pale.” “Negative. My physical system is operating normally,” I say, standing straighter, even though it exacerbates the pain. “Do you have any commands?” Jenny sees the cold sweat on my forehead and my tightly pressed lips. She suddenly reaches out, wanting to touch my forehead. I react as if struck by an electric current, recoiling sharply and bumping against the railing with a dull thud. People around us look over. Jenny’s face is terribly strained. “Mommy! Daddy, Daddy’s bleeding!” Annie suddenly points at my wound, alarmed. Jenny and she seem to remember something, not even bothering with others, rushing to take me to the hospital. On the way home from the hospital, Annie insists on sitting next to me, pressing close. She’s grown taller than three years ago. Her gaze on my wound becomes careful and hesitant. “Daddy, does it still hurt?” “You don’t even say if it hurts,” Jenny says, staring straight ahead, her voice stiff. “Pain perception does not affect task execution,” I reply. “According to the ‘Perfect Husband Code’: Males should properly manage their own health and emotions, avoiding their impact on family atmosphere and members’ moods. Recommendation: Ignore.” “Shut up!” Jenny suddenly roars, slamming her fist on the steering wheel. The car instantly falls silent, Annie too scared to speak. After a long moment, Jenny says in a hoarse voice, “Command: You are permitted to express discomfort.” “Yes,” I reply immediately. “Current lower back old injury pain index is approximately 7, within tolerable range. Recommendation: Use academy-provided muscle relaxant patch. Expected relief within forty-eight hours, will not affect fulfillment of family responsibilities. Recommendation: Ignore.” Jenny says nothing more, just drives the car faster. When we arrive home, Caspian prepares ointment and hot water for me. My father says with concern, “Look how thoughtful Caspian is. You, you never knew how to take care of yourself before, and now you…” I don’t hold it steadily, and the scalding hot water spills on my hand. My father exclaims, “Quick, get the first-aid kit! Ash, that must hurt so much!” My face is expressionless. “Command error, unable to execute.” A large blister forms on the back of my hand. My father is shaking with anger. “What’s with the commands, you’re a human being, can’t you feel pain?!” “Caspian, quickly help Ash with this.” Caspian walks over and professionally treats my burn, a perfect and reliable smile on his face. That night, I hear them discussing, deciding to contact the academy to find out what went wrong with me. 3 The academy’s response is that I am this year’s most outstanding graduate of the Perfect Husband Academy, and all my actions are to support the family. But my mechanized language and emotionless responses make them uncomfortable. “This is all normal. Only this way can he be the most perfect husband, father, and son in your eyes.” They are skeptical, but for the next few days, they follow the dean’s instructions. I wake up at five to prepare breakfast for the family, drop off and pick up Annie from school, work efficiently remotely during the day, check Annie’s homework in the evening, give my parents massages, and at night, fulfill my husbandly duties to Jenny according to “commands.” Her body is warm. I used to love holding her to sleep, but now I feel nothing. In a moment of intimacy, she feels something isn’t right on my hand and quickly turns on the light. My hand, burned that day, hadn’t received follow-up treatment and is now inflamed and festering. “Ash! Your hand!” I look up and ask, “Task completed. What is the next command?” She freezes, then drives like a madwoman to take me to the hospital. While the doctor treats me, I don’t make a sound, not even a frown, just calmly describe the state of my wound. The doctor looks at me in surprise, then at Jenny, his expression complex. After treating the wound, the doctor says the infection is deep; any later, and the function of this hand might have been impaired. Back home, my father looks at me, his eyes red. This man, usually so stern. “Ash…” His voice chokes as he reaches out to pat my shoulder. I step back, avoiding his touch. “Non-essential physical contact may interfere with task execution efficiency and stable image,” I say. “Recommendation: Control emotions to avoid impacting family atmosphere.” My father’s hand freezes in mid-air. He looks at me as if I were a strange machine. He suddenly turns to Jenny, his voice trembling. “Jenny, you signed the papers back then! You sent him in! Now he’s like this, it’s all your fault!” Jenny’s face pales. My mother sobs, her eyes red. “It’s my fault too! Why didn’t I stop you then! Why did I believe that academy’s nonsense! Saying they could teach Ash to be a pillar… a perfect husband…” “Look at him now!” She points at me, her finger shaking. “Does he even resemble a human anymore?! He’s like a machine! Like a puppet with a set program! Is this my son?! Is this the son I raised?!” My father embraces her. “Don’t say it… don’t say it…” “I will say it!” My mother struggles, tears streaming down her old face. “I can’t take it anymore! Seeing him like that, I hurt! My heart aches! I’d rather he was like before! At least he had a temper! He’d talk back! He’d argue with us! At least he was a living person! And now? What is he now?!” She collapses onto the sofa, covering her face and weeping bitterly. After that, they start being “nice” to me. My parents tell me not to work too hard. Annie plays simple games with me. Jenny no longer tries to be intimate with me, just gently leans against me. Their attention seems to have fully returned to me, and Caspian is often “idle.” The day Annie gets first place in her midterm exam, she throws her arms around my arm, cooing playfully. “Daddy hasn’t taken me out in ages. I got first place this time, and I want to go to the amusement park and eat the cotton candy you buy.” Caspian tries to follow, but Annie refuses, and my parents also tell him to stay home. He stands in the entryway, his expression completely unchanged. When Jenny returns home early from work, I’ve just handed the cotton candy I bought to Annie. After a few bites, Annie suddenly clutches her stomach, curling up and groaning, her face paling. The whole family panics. Caspian initiates a scan. “Detecting unidentified allergen residue in food.” He looks at me because I bought and provided the cotton candy. Jenny, holding Annie, is both shocked and furious. “Ash, is there something wrong with the cotton candy you bought?!” “Command confirmed, food was purchased and provided by me.” “I’m asking if you added anything or bought the wrong thing!” Jenny yells. My parents have already called emergency services. Caspian retrieves the shopping records and family health database, which shows I “ignored” Annie’s history of allergy to a certain dye, and purchased cotton candy containing that ingredient. Jenny, livid, slaps me across the face. “Ash, I thought three years of training would have changed you, but you’re still so careless! No, you’re heartless now! Annie has a history of allergies!” My mother pushes me, crying, “We’ve been so careful with you, how could you still make such a mistake! What did you even learn, how to harm your own daughter?!” My face swollen, I repeat again and again, “Command error, no harmful action executed. According to purchase command, chosen highest-rated store.” Jenny trembles, roaring, “Shut up! You useless piece of trash who can’t even take care of his own daughter, why don’t you just die!” “Just die!” I blink, look at their hateful faces, and respond calmly. “Command confirmed.” “Die.” Amidst their cries, I turn and walk towards the kitchen.

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1 That evening, a message popped up from the kid my mother was sponsoring. He sent a sheepish text explaining that he’d changed our Wi-Fi password when he came over to drop something off for Evelyn. He said he was just bored. He followed it up with a string of letters: CluelessOldFossil. I remembered how the Wi-Fi had suddenly cut out earlier that day, flashing a “wrong password” error. I’d asked Evelyn about it, but she just said it was probably a glitch. She was buried in her work, so I let it go. I didn’t reply to his text. That night, I had dinner with Evelyn, just like always. The next day, I changed the password again. At the morning meeting, I made a point of looking right at the kid. “By the way, the new Wi-Fi password is ‘HomeWrecker.’ Make sure you type it in right next time.” … Evelyn held it together for the entire day. The moment we got home, she exploded. “What the hell was that at the meeting this morning? Now everyone at the office thinks something is going on between me and Liam. Are you happy now?” “So you admit he was in our house while I was gone,” I said, my eyes fixed on the financial news flickering across the TV. I didn’t have to look at her to picture the storm brewing on her face. A second later, she stormed over and snapped the TV off. “Don’t forget, you’re the one who got him the job. He’s an employee, and he was here to deliver work files. What’s the big deal?” she shot back. “And what about that time on the bus? You humiliated him in public. Did you even once think about how that made me feel?” That time. I’d seen it with my own eyes: the cool, ever-composed Evelyn, squeezing onto a crowded city bus right alongside Liam. The old me would never have been able to imagine such a scene. For our anniversary last year, I’d planned a sunset bike ride. It was supposed to be romantic. Instead, she trailed me in her sports car, practically idling, watching me pedal by myself like an idiot. Finally, she’d just rolled down the window and said, “God, could you be any more cliché?” The memory soured in my mouth, and I fought to keep the rage out of my voice. “How long has it been going on between you two?” Silence stretched between us. She tilted her head back and let out a long, weary sigh. “I told you, it’s just work. Do you have to turn everything into a fight?” She paused, a cruel smirk twisting her lips. “You’re becoming more and more like your father. Always looking for trouble where there isn’t any.” My blood ran cold. Eight years ago, my mother began sponsoring Liam and his mom. My father became convinced they were having an affair. The suspicion drove him mad. He slit his wrists in the bathtub. The water turned a deep, sickening crimson, spilling over the edge to lick at my feet. It felt scalding, and my whole body shook. Evelyn rushed over when she got the call. She wrestled the blade from my hand as I tried to follow him, her arm taking the cut meant for me. She just held me, repeating over and over, “It’s okay, it’s okay…” It’s the nightmare that has haunted me my entire life. And now, she was using it to shut me up. By the time I surfaced from the memory, Evelyn was already in the bathroom. Her phone, left on the table, was open to Liam’s social media feed. She’d just liked his latest post. [Did a good deed with the boss today! She was so scared of needles she buried her face in my chest! Guess I’m the only one who’s seen her this vulnerable] The screen was a blur of flower and heart emojis, each one a weight crushing the air from my lungs. Evelyn has a severe phobia of blood. I know this better than anyone. When I was in that car accident, bleeding out, she was a perfect match. But she just stood there, watching me writhe in agony, sweat pouring down my face. She wouldn’t give a single drop. By the time the hospital found a compatible donor, I was already in the ICU. The doctor told me a few more minutes and I would have been gone. The comments section was a party. [Dude, details on the “buried her face” part?] [Her own husband almost died and she wouldn’t give him a drop of blood. How’d you manage this?] [Liam, you’re a legend!] Liam’s replies were flirty and vague, but I couldn’t really see them through the haze in my eyes. The only thing in focus was Evelyn’s thumbs-up. Her “like.” I tilted my head back, wiped the moisture from my eyes, and dialed my lawyer. “I need you to draw up divorce papers.” At 3 a.m., Evelyn shook me awake. “I just learned how to make dumplings. Get up and have some.” She dragged me into the kitchen. Flour dusted every surface, and bits of filling were scattered like confetti. It was my father’s recipe, the one he always used to recite from memory. She’d never stepped foot in the kitchen before. She used to complain about the smell of cooking oil on my clothes. Now, here she was, her face smudged with flour, her hands clumsily but intently folding the dough. The old me would have snapped a nine-photo collage for social media: [My wife made me dumplings by hand. I’m the luckiest man alive.] But now, I just fought back a yawn. “Have you ever cooked for him?” Her hands stilled. She shot me a look that screamed, Here we go again. “I made you food. I said nice things. What more do you want from me?” The next second, the bag of flour hit the floor with a soft thud. The dam inside me broke. “You let him come and go from our house as he pleases, you go with him to donate blood, everyone in the company is whispering about you two—” “Enough!” Her voice shot up, sharp and cracking. “You are my husband, Ryan, not some low-life picking fights in an alley. Look at yourself! Look at how crazy you’ve become!” She wasn’t done. “Liam comes from nothing, but he works hard and everyone at the company loves him. But you? The employees can’t stand you. Maybe you should take a look in the mirror and ask yourself why!” As she spoke, she was already typing on her phone. A notification popped up in the company-wide group chat. An official announcement firing me from my position. It took me five years to climb from an entry-level position to director. It took her one second to erase it all. “There. Are you satisfied?” she spat, yanking off her apron. “Now you won’t have to see any of this so-called ‘gossip’ from your employees anymore!” She stormed out of the house, leaving her phone on the counter. Some dark impulse made me pick it up. I opened her chat with Liam. Liam: [Did the trick I taught you work? Even the most stubborn old fossil can be tamed, right? ;)] Evelyn: [Haha, not so sure it’ll work on Ryan.] So, the dumplings were his idea. And she agreed with him. I was the stubborn, old fossil. Evelyn didn’t come home that night. Instead, she appeared in a live photo on Liam’s social media feed. Two shadowy figures, tangled together in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of her CEO office. The sound of a kiss, just for a second, was a knife twisting in my ear. The comments flooded in. [Is the boss getting a new husband?] [Finally! Maybe we can get rid of that old fossil for good. Things will be so much better at work!] She had to have known he was filming. She had to. She wanted me to see it. She wanted me to know that without the title of ‘Evelyn’s husband,’ I was nothing. No one would respect me. I had no right to question her. I would end up just like my father. My hand trembled as I liked the post. I went back to our bedroom, opened a suitcase, and started packing. The framed photo of us on the nightstand went straight into the trash. I was done. I was done with all of it. I sat awake until the early hours of the morning, when the email from my lawyer finally arrived. The divorce papers. I opened the file, signed my name without a moment’s hesitation, and asked him to have a physical copy delivered. I don’t know how long she’d been standing there, but suddenly Evelyn was behind me, a confused frown on her face. “Who’s getting a divorce?” “A friend,” I said, my voice flat, my expression unmoving. The tension instantly drained from her shoulders. She let out a knowing little laugh. “I figured,” she said. “Your father is dead. Your mother is drowning in debt from a lifetime of charity, needing her son’s wife just to pay her hospital bills. What right could you possibly have to ask for a divorce? I was worried for nothing.” Every word was a razor blade slicing me open. I said nothing. Her tone softened slightly. “As long as you play the part of my husband and stop with these baseless suspicions, I can give you anything you want.” She turned to leave, tossing one last comment over her shoulder. “The company’s promotion ceremony is tomorrow. It wouldn’t look right if you didn’t go.” For a split second, my heart fluttered. A foolish, desperate part of me fantasized that she was going to acknowledge my five years of hard work. I stayed up all night preparing a speech. I tried on the custom-tailored suit she had bought for me. The next day, the banquet hall was buzzing, glasses clinking. I stepped inside, and the condescending stares that met me wiped the practiced smile right off my face. Up on the brightly lit stage, Evelyn personally announced Liam as the new director. My replacement. “Oh, good, you’re here,” she said, her eyes finding me in the crowd. Her tone was casual, breezy. “If Liam has any questions moving forward, you can help him out. You’ll have plenty of free time at home, might as well do something useful.” A wave of snickers rippled through the room. The whispers found their way to my ears. “Looks like we were right. There’s no place for him at the company anymore.” “Not just the company. I bet there won’t be a place for him in the family for much longer either.” “He used to be Mr. Walker, Director Walker, throwing his weight around. Now look at him. He’s nothing! Ha!” … Evelyn heard them. She had to have heard them. She didn’t say a word to defend me. She stepped down from the stage and leaned in close, her voice a low murmur. “This promotion was Liam’s birthday wish. I had to make it happen.” “Besides,” she added, “you won’t have to work so hard anymore. Isn’t it better to just stay home?” She asked it so matter-of-factly, so certain I would just nod and agree. “But I…” But I poured my soul into this for five years to get to this point. She didn’t have the patience to hear me finish. She was already turning away, taking Liam by the arm to introduce him to industry executives, to all the important players. Just like she used to do with me. But that was then. She handed my project proposals to Liam, coaching him line by line on how to handle the executives’ toughest questions. The whole thing was a grotesque farce. I couldn’t stand it for another second. As I turned to leave, Liam’s voice stopped me. “Ryan,” he said, grabbing my arm, his grip deliberately tight. “You’re not mad at me for taking your job, are you? Please don’t hate me.” The innocent, grateful boy my mother had sponsored was gone. In his place was this… thing, his eyes glinting with provocation. I looked down, a bitter laugh escaping my lips, then met his gaze. “My mother sponsored you, paid for your college, supported you and your mom. It wasn’t so you could steal my wife.” The smile on Liam’s face froze for an instant, then returned, wider and uglier. “Well, may the best man win.” With that, he let out a sharp cry and stumbled backward, collapsing right into Evelyn’s arms. “Evelyn,” he whimpered, “seeing Ryan… it’s bringing back all the nightmares from college.” His voice broke. “His mother… she took advantage of me! She used the sponsorship as an excuse to…” The room erupted. Every head turned, every pair of eyes stared at me, filled with shock and disgust. My nerves screamed. My voice rose an octave. “What are you talking about? My mom would never do something like that!” Liam just clung to Evelyn, trembling like a frightened child. “I was always too scared to say anything,” he sobbed. “But now that Ryan’s not at the company anymore… I finally feel safe enough to tell the truth…” Evelyn’s head snapped up. Her eyes were chips of ice. I stared at her, my brow furrowed in disbelief. “You believe him?” Her gaze was venomous. “Your mother,” she said, each word a hammer blow, “knows exactly what she did.” And just like that, it was fact. In the eyes of everyone there, my mother was a predator. And I was her son. “Using charity as a cover for that? What kind of monster does that?” “And him? The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” “No wonder he was always going after Liam. He was afraid the truth would come out!” “To think someone like that was working right beside us. It’s terrifying.” The faces around me twisted into ugly masks. The accusations rained down. I shook my head, helpless. “No, you’re wrong. My mom would never…” I lunged for Liam, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. “Tell them! Tell them the truth! My mom gave up everything for you! She went without new clothes, she worked while she was sick, just so you could go to college!” A hand shoved me back. It was Evelyn, her face a cold, hard mask of fury. “How dare you threaten him to change his story?” she snarled. “Liam is a good, honest person. Why would he ever lie about something that shames him like this? I think you’re just angry you got caught!” Right there, in front of everyone, she pulled out her phone and called the hospital. “Stop all payments for my husband’s mother’s care, effective immediately. A person like that doesn’t deserve to live.” My world collapsed. Wine glasses and pieces of cake flew through the air, pelting me. The words “predator’s son” echoed from all sides. “His mother doesn’t deserve to live, and neither does he!” “Just go die already!” Fists and palms rained down on my face. They spat on me. Someone slashed my cheek with a broken piece of a glass. Through the chaos, Evelyn started to move toward me, but Liam let out a sudden cry of pain. “My head… it hurts so much! I think… I think I see him coming for me…” Without a second thought, Evelyn had someone hoist Liam up and rush him to the hospital. The shouts and curses around me faded into a dull roar. All I could see was my mother’s face, her expression of anguish when she heard the lie. Amid the kicks and punches, I fumbled for my phone, desperately dialing the hospital. The voice on the other end was calm, clinical. “Mr. Walker, I’m very sorry for your loss. Your mother received several abusive phone calls a short while ago. Her heart gave out. She passed away moments ago.” The fight drained out of me. I went limp, letting the blows fall where they may. The voice on the phone said to “take care,” but I couldn’t shed a single tear. I don’t know how much time passed. The crowd eventually dispersed. My phone rang. It was Evelyn. “I’ve sent some money to your mother’s account. She won’t die just yet. As for the truth, we’ll let the police handle it.” Her voice was tired. “I think you’ve caused enough trouble. Stay home and think about what you’ve done. I won’t be back for three days.” “Okay,” I whispered into the phone. After hanging up, I deleted her number. I deleted everything. I went home, picked up my packed suitcase, and placed the signed divorce papers on the coffee table. I said goodbye to the home I had lived in for nearly ten years. One last stop. I picked up my mother’s ashes from the hospital and boarded a flight that night. Evelyn, this is goodbye. For good. Three days later, Evelyn came home carrying groceries and a bouquet of fresh flowers. The moment she pushed open the door, she froze.

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1 Three years ago, that ridiculous game of Truth or Dare completely derailed the lives of Blake and I. Her childhood friend suddenly proposed a cruel wager, claiming he wanted to test the authenticity of our love. The condition was that after our divorce, we wouldn’t see each other for three years. I honestly thought she’d refuse such an outrageous demand. After all, we’d argued about it countless times. Her inappropriate closeness with her childhood friend had always been a thorn in our side. But she agreed without hesitation, even confidently telling everyone that she believed I was hers for life and we’d remarry in three years. I remained silent then, knowing in my heart that it was the last chance I’d ever give her. Now, three years have passed. She stands before me, a bouquet of roses in her arms, a confident smile on her face as she calls me “honey” and says she kept her word, she’s back for our remarriage. … Blake’s lips curved into a confident, slight smirk. “Are you mad?” “Alright, alright, I’m here, aren’t I?” “Come on, don’t be mad.” Her voice was sweet, doting, assuming I was just being childish and upset for attention. Just like old times, she reached out to embrace me. I took another step back, my expression hardening. “Ms. Blake, please keep your distance!” Her hand froze in mid-air, her gentle gaze still fixed on my face. “Really mad this time, huh?” “Name your price. Whatever it takes to make it up to you, I’ll do it.” She still confidently believed that a few sweet words would win me over, just like before. As she spoke, she took another step closer. Each step she took, I mirrored, retreating further. The conquering glint in her eyes intensified. “Blake, three years is a long time. Enough to change many things.” She nodded in agreement. “Indeed.” I backed up until I hit the wall, no more room to maneuver, my back pressed against the cool plaster. She placed her hands on either side of my head, cornering me, playing that old game again. Back when we were dating, she loved to pin me against a wall like this, kissing me deeply under the moonlight. Three years ago, after losing the dare, she’d divorced me at her friend’s insistence. Three years of no contact, not a single text or call. And now, she presumes I’d just sit around, waiting for her to come back and remarry me! A cynical smile touched my lips. Before I could speak, her phone rang. She pulled it out. The screen displayed a contact: “My Little Prince.” It was her special name for Brody. I’d seen it countless times, just as I’d seen her lovingly stroke his head, saying he’d always been her “little prince” since they were kids! Completely oblivious to my feelings as her husband then. She answered immediately. “Vivi, boo hoo hoo, come quick, my stomach hurts so bad.” Brody’s whiny cry came through the phone. Blake’s eyes instantly filled with worry. “Don’t be scared, I’m coming right back.” She hung up, then quickly brushed her hand over the top of my head, as if soothing a docile cat. “I need to check on Brody first. I’ll come find you later.” Before the words fully registered, she was gone. Brody, ever the showman, flaunted their relationship on social media, as he always did. The photo showed him lying with a sweat-drenched forehead on Blake’s lap. She was gently rubbing his stomach. His caption read: “She’s always loved me most, ever since we were kids. No matter how important the event, or how important the person, if I’m not feeling well, she’s always the first to rush to my side, offering care and love. She truly is the best woman in the world!!!” I casually tapped the ‘like’ button. Not just on this one, but on every single one of his posts over the past three years. Three years, 1095 posts showing off their “love,” and I’d liked them 1095 times. He found new ways to show them off every day. For instance, he didn’t work; Blake gave him a secondary credit card to spend as he pleased. He could live in the house Blake and I once shared. My belongings, he’d use if he wanted, or toss if he didn’t. In these three years, he and Blake had done everything a couple would do. I knew he posted them specifically for me to see. Each ‘like’ was my way of showing contempt and indifference. But Brody, in his warped mind, thought I was jealous, furious, desperately trying to get attention. The next time I saw Blake, she was with Brody, drinking coffee at my café. They wore matching caramel-colored outfits. Blake, who usually favored formal business attire, was dressed in trendy, casual clothes today. I used to suggest we wear matching outfits, but she’d always say she was used to suits and didn’t want to change her style. Brody surveyed my café with a look of surprise. Blake, puzzled, asked me, “I gave you so much money, why are you doing such hard work?” When we divorced, I asked for half of our assets. She gave them without a moment’s hesitation. I stopped making the coffee, my gaze flat as I looked at her. “Because I want to. And it’s none of your business.” Blake’s expression didn’t change. She still thought I was just mad at her. Brody offered a disingenuous greeting. “Hey, Ash, long time no see. How’s it going?” “Good.” Brody seemed surprised by my calm. Blake’s phone rang, and she turned to step outside to take the call. With just Brody and me left, his pretense dropped. His smile transformed into a triumphant sneer of provocation. “Don’t play hard to get. But don’t get too happy either.” He looked down on me, a slight chuckle on his lips. “Even if you remarry Vivi this time, what good will it do?!” “Her mother doesn’t like you. Her ideal son-in-law has always been me.” “Vivi only wants to remarry you out of a sense of obligation.” “Even this remarriage, she sought my approval first.” “And you’ll have to sign a prenuptial agreement.” “Oh, and I personally drafted that agreement.” He pulled a prenuptial agreement from his bag and placed it in front of me. I glanced at it dismissively. One clause stated that all of the Blake family’s assets were none of my concern. After marriage, I wasn’t allowed to call Blake’s mother “Mom,” only “Madam.” In public, I couldn’t claim to be the patriarch of the Blake family; I had to declare myself merely her ex-husband. These outrageous terms made me laugh sardonically. I pushed the agreement back to him. “If Blake’s mother likes you so much, why are you still without a title?” “Three years, and Blake still hasn’t committed to you. How pathetic.” Brody, furious and embarrassed, instinctively raised his hand to slap me. But just then, Blake’s approaching footsteps sounded behind him. He changed his expression faster than flipping a page, tears welling up, a mix of aggrieved and understanding. “Ash, I truly hope you can remarry Vivi.” “As her childhood friend, I just want her to be happy.” “This prenuptial agreement is just a formality. Don’t be mad, okay?” He was still as dramatic as he was three years ago. The moment Blake saw him cry, her mind would turn to mush, unable to distinguish right from wrong. “Brody, what’s wrong?” Blake pulled him closer, her eyes filled with concern for him. Brody shook his head, feigning a wronged expression. “Nothing, it’s my fault. Don’t blame Ash.” The more he spoke like this, the more Blake believed I’d bullied him. “Ash!” she snapped, her face cold. “Apologize!” Her tone was an undeniable command, like ordering a servant. A cold laugh touched my lips. She frowned in displeasure and chastised me. “Brody and I grew up together, he’s like a brother to me!” “He’s a very important person to me. Can you please stop being so hostile towards him every time!” “Even if it’s for my sake, can you be kinder to him, please?!” My face remained expressionless. I’d seen this scene countless times over the past three years. I was utterly sick of it! Just as I was about to ask them to leave, my phone on the counter vibrated with a video call. The screen displayed: “My Sweetheart Daughter.” I quickly grabbed the phone, and my two-year-old daughter’s adorable face appeared in the video. “Daddy, I miss you.” I quickly exchanged a few words with her. As Blake reached for my phone to talk to my daughter, I ended the call. “What daughter?! Ash, you have a daughter?!” Blake’s eyes widened. She reached for my phone again, but I dodged her. My face was cold as I spoke to her seriously once more. “Don’t bother me. You two are twisted, crazy people!” She didn’t get angry; instead, she just indulged her self-serving belief. “Alright, don’t be mad.” “I know you’re doing this to annoy me. That call was on purpose, wasn’t it?” I instantly understood that a person as self-absorbed as her wouldn’t believe I no longer loved her until she saw my wife with her own eyes. Suddenly, she spoke to me. “Mom’s birthday is in a few days.” “Your cooking is excellent. Prepare some of her favorite dishes.” “Use this opportunity to mend your relationship with her.” So, she knew. During our three years of marriage, I had been bullied by her mother for three years. Blake’s mother looked down on me, someone from a humble background. Even though I was Blake’s legal husband, Blake’s mother never allowed me to attend any Blake family dinners. In fact, if she was present, I wasn’t allowed to sit at the table. I didn’t like her either. Our relationship was precarious, a mutual state of ignoring each other. In that dynamic, Blake had always remained silent. A mocking curve touched my lips. I deliberately asked, “Blake, just hypothetically.” “What if I cooked a feast, and your mother still wouldn’t let me sit at the table?” She hesitated before replying, “You’re the junior, just say a few nice words to butter her up.” “You know how my mom is. All bark, no bite.” Brody deliberately suggested, “Ash, it’s not beneath a junior to beg an elder. Madam is most susceptible to being begged on her knees.” He was being sarcastic, implying I should kneel. I chuckled derisively, my eyes fixed on Blake’s dark ones, my voice serious and earnest. “Blake, three years. Things have long changed.” “I’m married, and I have a child.” Then, I turned to Brody. “Perhaps you should do more begging. You might just get into the Blake family.” Brody burst into tears, feigning distress. “It’s my fault for speaking out of turn.” He covered his mouth and ran out. Blake’s face suddenly turned ugly. She snapped at me, “How much longer are you going to be stubborn?!” Then she rushed out to chase Brody. My phone vibrated. It was a text from my wife: “Honey, project finished. Home tomorrow afternoon.” I breathed a sigh of relief. I thought, once Blake saw Eleanor herself, she wouldn’t be so self-absorbed about me anymore. The next day, as soon as I arrived at the café, the preschool teacher suddenly called. She said my daughter had been taken by someone claiming to be her biological mother and godfather. My heart leaped into my throat. I raced to the Blake family estate. There, I saw Brody had put my daughter in a dog kennel, playing with dogs and cats. My daughter was allergic to animal fur. She couldn’t touch either dogs or cats. My daughter was crying uncontrollably, her face flushed to her neck. Red allergy spots were already appearing on her neck. Brody ignored my daughter’s distress. Instead, he pushed the cat towards my daughter’s arms. “Don’t be scared, Annie. This cat is three years old, so she’s like your big sister.” “She’s your godfather’s favorite cat. Give her a hug, don’t be rude. Crying so loudly will scare the kitty.” My daughter raised her hands in fear, trying to avoid it. The black cat’s sharp claws scratched several marks on my daughter’s face. My daughter cried even louder. Brody said gently, “You’ve scared the cat,” but his eyes held a threatening glint as he glared at my daughter. “Who told you to touch my daughter?!” I charged forward, enraged. I was just about to reach for my daughter when Blake suddenly appeared, wrapping her arms around me from behind, pulling me back a few steps. “Brody was just being kind, trying to give her more playmates.” “Ash, you adopted this child, didn’t you? It must be hard raising her alone.” My eyes were bloodshot with fury. I spun around and slapped her. A clear handprint bloomed on her face, which was already on the verge of “cracking.” “My daughter is allergic to cat and dog fur!” “Her playmates are never animals!” I turned again to pick up my daughter, but Blake grabbed my wrist with a firm grip. Brody wore a pitifully innocent expression as he looked at me. “It’s my cat’s third birthday today. She really likes playing with kids.” “I just thought, with Annie coming back to the Blake family, they should get acquainted first.” As he spoke, his black cat clawed wildly at my daughter. It left crisscrossing scratch marks on my daughter’s arms, neck, and face. He deliberately added, “Don’t worry, my cats and dogs are regularly vaccinated. They’re very clean.” “I even sleep with my cat every day.” Seeing my daughter’s face, crying so hard she was almost gasping for breath, my heart raced with anxiety. I struggled against Blake’s grip. She held me tighter, soothingly. “Children shouldn’t be raised too delicately.” “The Blake family fortune will be hers someday. We need to build her courage, she shouldn’t be afraid of a mere cat.” Suddenly, my daughter’s eyes closed, and she collapsed. I screamed in panic, “She’s going into anaphylactic shock!” Blake finally realized the seriousness of the situation. I rushed over, picked up my daughter, and ran to the hospital. Blake and Brody followed. While my daughter was being treated in the emergency room, the doctor handed me a consent form for risks. “Please, the child’s father or mother needs to sign this.” Blake eagerly spoke up. “I’m the child’s mother. I’ll sign it!” As she reached for the consent form, a commanding voice echoed from behind. “Since when was my daughter your daughter?!”

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