Category: English

Savannah and I had been married for three years, a time of harmony and love. Three years in, I was diagnosed with a terminal illness—and she found someone else. I tried to hold on, but she mocked me to her friends: “Luke? That boring guy? It’s about time I got rid of him.” Heartbroken, I decided to give up on treatment. In my final days, though, she was there, crying at my bedside like a lost child. I never thought coming home could feel so heavy. When I unlocked the door, any anticipation I had crumbled into dust. “Oh, you’re back already?” Savannah’s voice held no trace of joy, just irritation and shock. She quickly stepped away from him, straightening her disheveled clothes. There was no shame in her eyes, only anger. That man—Justin Thompson—was her new conquest. To her, Justin was everything I wasn’t: younger, wealthier, able to bring her that thrill she craved. Justin had the audacity to adjust his collar with a cocky smirk, strolling past me with the kind of arrogance I’d never had. He was muscular, with a physique that was way more Savannah’s “type.” “I came back early to check in on you,” I said, struggling to keep my voice steady. Anger made it tremble despite myself. Savannah laughed, a bitter edge in her tone. “Check on me? Why don’t you spend that energy making more money instead? Look at Justin—he’s got it all, and he’s just getting started. And you? You trudge along on that pathetic paycheck of yours. Got the nerve to lecture me, huh?” In that moment, my heart went ice-cold. I looked at her, and for the first time, I really saw her. All the warmth, the promises, they’d evaporated. What was left? Contempt. Betrayal. “So, this is how you really see me.” My voice was low, and I turned to head upstairs. Everything felt like it was plummeting into some frozen, empty abyss. At that moment, my phone chimed. It was a text from the doctor, reminding me of my follow-up appointment tomorrow. The word “terminal” jumped out from the screen. I let out a bitter laugh. Here I was, dying from this illness, and now I’d lost her too. Suddenly, life seemed utterly void of color.

Savannah and I had met on a spring afternoon. Sunlight streamed through fresh green leaves, casting patches of light along a winding path in Willow Brook Park. She was there at the park entrance, wearing a simple white sundress, with a touch of nervousness in her eyes. When I walked up, I saw she was searching for something. “Looking for something? Maybe I can help,” I offered. She turned to me, and in that moment, it felt like all the warmth of spring gathered in her smile. She told me she’d lost a necklace. So, I joined her, searching through flowerbeds and grassy patches until we found it tucked away in a quiet corner. That small encounter sparked something between us, a connection that grew with each conversation. I was captivated by her beauty, and my relentless pursuit won her over. Our meeting felt natural and beautiful, like flowers blossoming in spring. One evening, over a candlelit dinner, Savannah’s face glowed in the warm light. I took her hand, my voice trembling slightly but firm. “Savvy, I want to spend my life with you.” Savannah held my hand tightly and replied, “I want that too, Luke. You mean everything to me.” After we married, our life was sweet and harmonious. Every evening, we’d take walks together, and every weekend, we’d shop for groceries side-by-side. Those days, Savannah seemed so happy in the kitchen, bustling around, finding joy in the everyday. And I loved watching her sleep, calm and peaceful in the morning light. Life went on like that for a few good years, until the weight of reality and temptation slowly began to wear Savannah down.

The morning sun brought no hope, only a cold, unforgiving clarity. Savannah had been out last night, and she hadn’t come back yet. Alone in the kitchen, I shakily peeled a hard-boiled egg, every movement a reminder that my life wasn’t what it used to be. Today’s schedule was blank: no meetings, no lunch dates, just my afternoon check-up at North Ridge Medical Center. What would the doctor say this time? That the illness had worsened? Or that my days were truly numbered? Suddenly, the lock clicked, and Savannah walked in. Her makeup was smudged, but she wore a look of satisfaction. She didn’t even look my way, just headed straight for the bedroom as if I were a piece of furniture. “Morning.” I tried to break the silence, but my voice came out barely a whisper. “Oh.” Her response was cold, indifferent, as she slammed the bedroom door shut. I felt a wave of dizziness, my hand instinctively gripping the table’s edge. This was happening, and it was all too real. That afternoon, I made my way to the hospital alone. The stark white corridors and antiseptic smell weighed on me with each step. The doctor’s face was solemn, his voice full of sympathy and resignation—the disease had indeed progressed. “Mr. Hartman, it’s time to tell your family. Take care of yourself.” His voice was gentle, but his eyes pierced right through me. Family? Savannah? She probably wouldn’t even care. On the way home, I kept thinking of how to tell Savannah, hoping that maybe she’d show a bit of emotion, maybe even return to me. But when I arrived, she was packing her bags. Her eyes held no tears, only resolution. “What are you doing?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper. “I need to live somewhere else for a while.” Her tone was calm, as if she were just going on a trip. “Is it because of him? Because of Justin?” My heart felt like it was being torn apart. She paused, looked at me with irritation, not a shred of guilt in her gaze. “Yes. I need space to think.” And in that moment, I knew I’d lost more than my health—I’d lost the woman I loved. Her words shattered my world. I watched silently as she finished packing, closed the door, and left, leaving the house in a deathly silence. 3 After Savannah left, the emptiness of the house felt unbearable. Every sound echoed off the walls, each one a cruel reminder that I’d been completely abandoned. I was desperate. I didn’t want to let Savannah go. I made excuses for her, thinking maybe she’d made a mistake, maybe I hadn’t done enough to keep her. To save our marriage, I tried everything. I sent her countless messages, saying that if she came back, I’d forgive her. Each one went unanswered. I even reached out to mutual friends, asking them to pass along my apologies. I went to therapy, hoping it would help ease the torment. I was barely holding myself together. Finally, one day, I followed her. I thought I’d casually “run into” her, but I ended up at The Blue Ivy Lounge, where Justin was too. Inside a private room, a group of people drank and laughed, with Savannah the only woman there. She was dressed provocatively, drawing stares from all the men around her. Justin was by her side, and they were downing drinks together, egged on by their audience. I froze at the door, feeling humiliation crawl up my spine. I was too scared to open it. Savannah cuddled close to Justin, taking a sip from her glass, smiling shyly in a way I’d once thought was only for me. Pain gripped my chest, making it hard to breathe. Then, I saw one man pull out a tiny vial, pouring something into her glass. My heart raced. Clenching my fists, I pushed open the door. Savannah looked at me, shock briefly crossing her face before it turned cold and scornful. She whispered something to Justin, and they both walked over to me. I stood there, feeling like I was the intruder. Justin stepped up, his smirk dripping with disdain. “Luke, fancy seeing you here. Came looking for Savannah?” I forced a smile, trying to stay calm. “Yeah, what a coincidence.” Savannah’s voice was as cold as ice. “Well, since you’re here, let’s lay it all out.” I tried to keep my voice steady. “Savannah, just come home. We can pretend none of this happened.” Justin’s eyes flashed with disdain. He grabbed my collar, shoving me against the wall. “You think you matter? Stalking us now, are you?” I struggled to break free, but his strength overpowered mine. He punched me, and I felt my lip split open. Onlookers sneered, their eyes gleaming with amusement. “Enough.” Savannah walked up, affectionately pulling Justin back. “Don’t dirty your hands.” Justin let go, sneering as he looked down at me. “Remember, Savannah’s mine now. Get lost.” They turned, and the door slammed in my face. I sat alone on the floor, surrounded by whispers and mocking stares, my dignity torn to shreds. After a while, I dragged myself up, opened the door, and shouted after her, “Savannah, don’t drink that. They’re trying to hurt you.” That angered them even more, and I was thrown out of the bar. When I got home, I sat alone in the dark, letting the shadows close in around me. The pain burned deep—part of it for her, but part for me, knowing she was heading down a path of no return. Then the phone rang, breaking the silence. It was Savannah. I picked up immediately. Our voices overlapped. “S-Savannah, you didn’t drink that, did you?” “Luke, today better be the last time you show up in my life.” Relief washed over me. She hadn’t drunk it. Her voice was sharp and cold. “I don’t want you in my life. Whether I drink or not, that’s none of your concern.” The resentment in my heart ignited. “How can you treat me like this, Savannah?” “I just don’t want you hovering around,” she said coldly. “We live in the same town. We’ll run into each other now and then.” I tried to keep my voice calm, but it trembled. “Then you could at least avoid places you know I’ll be.” Her tone was full of irritation. “Savannah, after all these years, can you really just walk away?” My voice rose, hurt and anger spilling over. She was silent for a moment. “Walk away? Luke, I don’t feel a thing for you anymore. Look after yourself.” “And that drink? It’s between me and Justin. I’m fine with it.” Her words played over in my head, mocking me, leaving me numb.

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Everyone in Maple Hollow knew my mother, Miriam Gardner, as the woman who sold an unbelievably pricey yet magical beauty remedy. This remedy, costing $10,000 a bowl, was shockingly expensive. Yet people still came in droves, including women from neighboring cities who had heard about its miraculous effects. They all swore that eating my mother’s remedy left them with fair skin, rosy lips, and an enchanting allure. My sister Del, seeing the attention the remedy garnered, was practically drooling with envy. But no matter how much she begged, Mom refused to let her taste even a spoonful. Unable to resist, Del snuck into the back cellar one night. That was when I heard strange noises drifting from the cellar at midnight. My mom had a little shop in Maple Hollow, open only a few days a week, exclusively selling the beauty remedy. But the remedy wasn’t always available—customers had to book it in advance. “Mrs. Gardner, is my remedy ready today?” A plump, middle-aged woman wearing a gold bracelet and bursting with excitement walked in, her face beaming. I paused in my sweeping, glancing at her in curiosity. People from all walks of life came to Mom’s shop: tall, short, round, thin, even women well into their sixties. This woman looked to be around forty, a bit on the heavier side, but definitely radiating excitement. My mom nudged me, signaling I should continue cleaning, and then she turned back to the woman, smiling warmly. “Yes, yes! Mrs. Hale, I’ve prepared it especially for you!” Mrs. Hale’s smile widened, and she eagerly pulled a thick wad of cash from her purse. “Hurry, bring it over!” she insisted, practically bouncing with anticipation. Mom’s eyes widened at the sight of the thick stack of bills. “Mrs. Hale, there’s way more than $10,000 here!” she exclaimed. “Oh, keep the extra,” Mrs. Hale said, waving a hand dismissively. “That’s $100,000—I want to order more for the next few months. A treat like this once just won’t cut it!” Mom put on a look of hesitation. “Well, Mrs. Hale, you know how hard it is to make this remedy. I can’t make it every day, and I’ve got to think of all the other ladies on the list…” Mrs. Hale looked at her, took Mom’s hand in hers, and gave it a reassuring pat. “Don’t worry. I’d never ask you to make things difficult for yourself. I’ll only come in once every two weeks, let’s say, but could you prepare three or four bowls each time? It’ll save me from having to book every single visit.” “Oh, of course! Come, come, it’s all ready for you in the cellar,” Mom finally said, pocketing the money as she led Mrs. Hale to the back. “This remedy will make you more than satisfied.” As the cellar door closed softly behind them, I returned to cleaning. Mom never let Del or me go into the cellar. She said that only when one of us was married could we inherit the remedy shop and everything that came with it. Thinking of my boyfriend, Ryan Blackwood, made my cheeks flush. He’d been my childhood friend, but I didn’t know when he’d finally propose. If I inherited the shop, I wanted to show him the transformation the remedy could bring. Time slipped by as I worked. Soon, Mom returned, helping Mrs. Hale out. She was trembling, sighing with delight. “That remedy is simply incredible!” Mrs. Hale exclaimed. “If you hadn’t told me I could only have one serving, I’d be begging for another!” When I saw her under the bright lights, her skin glowed with a delicate softness, her face transformed. Her friends waiting outside gasped. “Oh my goodness! Look at her! She’s glowing!” one whispered. “That’s not even the same person! She looks so… full of life!” another added. Mom laughed, bidding Mrs. Hale goodbye as she moved to greet the next customer.

Del grabbed a chair and plopped down beside me, complaining, “Mom’s a real piece of work, isn’t she? Won’t even share a drop of that good stuff with her own daughter, all so she can make a quick buck! All these ugly women are getting prettier by the day, and look at me! I can’t cover my face no matter how much powder I use—ugh, it’s all caked up!” I took a closer look at her. Del was all dressed up, likely about to meet another one of her many boyfriends. After a final check in the mirror, she fluffed her hair and left, threatening, “Keep your mouth shut about this, or I’ll make you regret it!” I kept cleaning, not saying a word. But I knew Del was anxious. Mom’s rule was that whoever married first would inherit the remedy shop, and while I had a steady boyfriend, Del seemed to switch from one to the next. That evening, Del came home in tears, her makeup smeared and looking pitifully disheveled. “Mom!” she shrieked, storming into the living room. “He dumped me! That jerk said I’m ugly! Mom, I want that remedy! I need to look like all those other women who come out of here looking gorgeous! I’ll make him regret leaving me!” As Del’s tantrum grew louder, Mom’s expression hardened. “Go find yourself a husband, then,” she said coldly. “I’ll hand over the shop, and you can do as you like.” With that, Mom turned and walked away. In a fit of rage, Del kicked the chair across the room. “If I could find someone to marry me, I wouldn’t be so desperate!” she shouted. “I’ve been through three or four boyfriends already, and not one of them wants to settle down! Mom’s doing this to torture me! Fine! If she won’t share, I’ll find my own way!”

Late that night, I rolled over in bed, only to find Del wasn’t beside me. Remembering her earlier outburst, my heart sank. Could she have snuck into the cellar? Despite Mom’s strict warning not to, I got up, both anxious and curious, and headed to the cellar door. “Del?” I whispered as I opened the door, trying not to make any noise. “What are you doing here?” Del’s voice was strangely soft, almost too alluring, a tone I’d never heard from her before. She was in the cellar, up to something that didn’t sound right. “Del… what are you even doing in here? Mom will kill you if she finds out!” I hissed. “Just go back to bed… I’ll be out in a minute.” After a long moment, she finally emerged, her eyes glassy, yet she threw a lingering glance back toward the cellar as if she couldn’t tear herself away. Back in our room, she warned, “You better keep your mouth shut, or I’ll tell Mom you came in, too. If I go down, you’re coming with me.” Angry and betrayed, I clenched my jaw and nodded. What had she been doing in there alone? And why was she acting like this? Soon enough, Del’s nightly trips to the cellar became routine, her self-control waning with each visit. She started asking me to stand guard, and her beauty blossomed unnaturally. Her once dark complexion became fair, her features more delicate and shapely. Despite my curiosity, I never peeked inside, trusting Mom’s words.

One day, Del brought Ryan home and announced they were getting married. The moment I saw his hands all over her, I felt a chill wash over me. This wasn’t the same sweet Ryan I’d known for years. Rage boiled up inside me, and I threw myself at them. “You cheating jerk! Delilah, you knew he was my boyfriend, and you went behind my back?” But two fists were no match for four hands, and I quickly found myself shoved aside. Leaning against Ryan, Del looked at me with mocking pity. “Sorry, little sis, but I’m looking better than ever. Anyone can see who’s the better choice here.” Ryan scratched his nose, looking guilty but shrugging. “Lily, don’t be mad. Just look at you two! You’re as plain as a twig. I can’t help it if Del’s curves are more… enticing.” They had the nerve to defend their betrayal! Just as I opened my mouth to fight back, Mom’s voice cut in sharply, “Enough!” Mom stared at Ryan and Del with a look that could pierce steel, then turned to help me to my feet. “So, Ryan, you were Lily’s boyfriend, but now you’re marrying Del? You wouldn’t mind if I tested you a little first, would you?” His eyes lit up, and he nodded eagerly. “Not at all! Whatever you think is fair!” Mom’s face softened as she gestured toward the door. “It’s late. Stay the night, and I’ll consider your proposal tomorrow.” With a smug smile, Del took him into the room next to mine, and soon I heard creaking noises echoing through the wall. But the noise quickly died down after ten minutes, and I laughed quietly to myself. So much for Mr. “Enticing.” When I couldn’t sleep, I peered through the hallway and saw Del sneaking out—back to the cellar. Well, if she could play dirty, so could I. I went straight to Mom’s room and told her what Del had been up to. Mom nodded, unbothered. “I knew she was sneaking in. I gave her chance after chance, but she can’t resist temptation. If something goes wrong, she’ll have no one else to blame.” Then she looked at me, her gaze thoughtful. “Lily, your sister is reckless, but you’ve followed my rules. Would you like to take over the remedy shop?” I blinked, stunned. Weren’t we supposed to be married first? Was this all just a test? Quickly, I nodded. If I inherited the shop, I’d not only secure my future—I’d finally make Del pay for everything she’d done. Smiling with satisfaction, Mom took my hand. “Follow me.” When she opened the cellar door, I was shocked. It was larger than I’d ever imagined, divided into smaller rooms and chambers. She shot Del a cold look as we passed her chamber. Through the half-open door, I glimpsed Del lying on her back, her body flushed and moving rhythmically, lost in a haze of her own making. Finally, we reached the end of the cellar, where a large, heavy trapdoor lay. I followed Mom down the narrow staircase to a stone door. When she twisted the lock, the sight on the other side was one I’d never forget. Mom gave me a satisfied smile, nodding approvingly. “Come with me,” she said. As she opened the door, I felt my eyes widen with shock. The back room was far bigger than I’d imagined, divided into several small chambers, each secluded from the others. Mom cast a cold, almost disgusted look at Del’s chamber as we passed. Inside, I caught a glimpse of her, completely exposed, her skin flushed red, her body moving in a rhythmic, trance-like state, and soft, breathy sounds escaping her lips. We walked on, further into the back room until we reached a small doorway. In the center was a heavy trapdoor. Following her lead, I descended the narrow stairs to a stone door at the end of the corridor. Mom reached up, twisted the knob with careful precision, and opened it. What lay inside was a scene I would never forget for the rest of my life.

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I’ve been secretly in love with Liam Hawthorne for years. In college, I was his fangirl. After graduation, I became his assistant. I handled all his business and personal affairs. Everyone said I would be the future Mrs. Hawthorne. But during a board meeting, he openly asked the shareholders: “I’m not getting any younger, it’s time for me to get married. My family has given me a few options, who do you think is suitable?” Several photos of beautiful women flashed on the screen. There were heiresses, business prodigies, and popular actresses… Any one of them would make me feel inadequate. I lowered my head, preparing to escape the meeting room and find a quiet place to nurse my wounded heart. To my surprise, he called out to me, asking seriously: “Miss Blackwood, you’re the closest person to me and know my temperament and preferences best. What’s your opinion?” From the moment Liam Hawthorne stepped into our university, he became the campus celebrity. His handsome face made a group of young girls swoon. Many tried various ways to approach him, and I was no exception. However, my method was quite old-fashioned. I planned to “accidentally” bump into him at the library. Who knew that a group of crazy fans would call me a schemer, not only kicking me out of the fan club but also treating me as an enemy. Because when I “accidentally” encountered him at the library, I was so nervous that I stepped on my own long dress and fell flat on my face in front of everyone. You think that’s the end of it? No! Liam, being a normal person, reflexively reached out to help when he saw a young woman about to fall in front of him. But the angle was off. I hurt my chin, and his watch was damaged too. After I recovered, I had to compensate him for the watch repair costs. He said, “It’s okay, she didn’t do it on purpose.” Our professor said, “No, she should at least make up for it somehow.” So, I was assigned to clean Liam’s dorm room. That’s when I found out he was living in a luxurious single room. I heard he was an exchange student. He had studied in France since he was young, then came back to our country for some reason, so he entered our school as an exchange student. The first time I went to clean, Liam was quite embarrassed, “Um, it’s just a watch, really no big deal. You don’t have to listen to the professor. I have a cleaning service here.” I initially thought about letting it go. After all, being too close to Liam only resulted in getting scolded, with no real benefits. But when I saw the schedule pinned to his desk, an idea struck me. I insisted on compensating him. So, I ended up cleaning his dorm for two years, until we left school and entered society. During those two years, I achieved financial freedom by selling information about his whereabouts and interests.

I was conflicted about liking Liam. On one hand, I genuinely liked him. After all, who wouldn’t like a man with money, looks, and knowledge? On the other hand, I felt insecure. I clearly knew the gap between us. After all, I was aiming for marriage, not a relationship that would end right after graduation. In the end, my feelings for him overcame my insecurity. After graduation, I worked hard to get into a big company. The goal was to increase my own value, then give myself the capital and courage to confess to Liam. I kept thinking to myself: “You have a superior family background and unparalleled good looks, but I also have enviable beauty and talent, with a bright future ahead. I’m worthy of you.” Unfortunately, just as I was about to make great strides in my career, he walked into the office I had carefully prepared for my future boss and sat very naturally in that chair that symbolized status. He smiled at me and said, “Fiona Blackwood, we really are destined to meet. In college, you cleaned my dorm, and now in the workplace, you’re cleaning my office?” I very seriously replied, “I’m sorry, Mr. Hawthorne, I’m your assistant. I’m responsible for many tasks you assign, but that doesn’t include cleaning.” He looked at me with interest for a while, then said, “Alright! But don’t sell my whereabouts anymore. That’s harmless on campus, but it’s quite serious in the real world.” And so, I “infiltrated” by his side for another five years. Always waiting for the right moment to make a move. Finally, I waited for the “good” news of his marriage.

As soon as I left the conference room, I was dragged into the break room by several young girls from the office. They eagerly asked me, “Sister Fiona, we heard Mr. Hawthorne proposed to you. Tell us the details!” Youth is wonderful! Even their gossip is so cute. They’re like flower buds just starting to bloom, so full of vitality. I really envy them. I beckoned, and someone immediately brought me a coffee. I took the coffee and sat down, putting on a face as if I was about to share the details, “Mr. Hawthorne is getting married, but he hasn’t proposed yet. And the person he’s proposing to isn’t me. The target was just decided.” My tone was calm, but it shocked the group of young girls into silence. They all stared at me with wide eyes. “The cleaning lady just came out saying Mr. Hawthorne is getting married, and he was asking for your opinion…” “It’s not you?” “Then who is it?” “Yeah, you and Mr. Hawthorne…” They chattered away, and I interrupted them to emphasize, “Mr. Hawthorne and I have a purely professional relationship as superior and subordinate.” “How is that possible?” “How is it not possible?” They still insisted, “How is that possible?” Then they started counting on their fingers, listing all my special privileges with Liam. I was the only woman who could get close to Liam. I was the only one who could freely move between his office and home. I was the special employee who had the CEO personally backing me up when I made mistakes. I was Liam’s exclusive companion at various important banquets and balls. “Enough, enough,” I said with an attitude of indifference, “These aren’t my special privileges, they’re the privileges of being the CEO’s assistant. If you became the CEO’s assistant, you could enjoy these privileges too.” They exclaimed in surprise, and one said, “Then why didn’t you ever explain when we joked about this before?” “Why should I explain,” I said cheerfully, “I have a puffed-up sense of vanity too!” “But Mr. Hawthorne never explains either?” I said, “He can’t hear your gossip.” The break room fell silent again. A young girl born in ’98 pouted and said, “Then all the flattery we gave you was for nothing?” “That’s right.” They looked like they wanted to settle accounts with me, and I said, “How could it be for nothing? Even after Mr. Hawthorne gets married, my privileges will remain. Except for not having to accompany him to various banquets and balls, and not having to arrange his life at home, everything else stays the same.” I happily and secretly told them, “And just now, Mr. Hawthorne promised to give me company shares. Who knows, maybe the future Mrs. Hawthorne will have to come to me to find out about Mr. Hawthorne’s affairs!” I took a sip of coffee, put down the cup, and walked away nonchalantly. Cursing in my heart, which little rascal made this coffee and forgot to add sugar? My heart was already as bitter as eating Gentian, and now it’s even more bitter on top of that.

I couldn’t help but go to the bathroom to throw up. Then, I washed my face with cold water. Looking at myself in the mirror, forcing a smile, I finally couldn’t hold up anymore. My face immediately crumpled, all the spirit instantly drained from my body, dejected like a defeated rooster. Just now in the conference room, Liam asked for my opinion. Holding back my inner sorrow, I turned back with a smile and said, “Mr. Hawthorne, I’m not a company shareholder. My opinion doesn’t matter, does it?” Liam coldly said, “Are you reminding me that I should give you company shares?” I swear, I didn’t mean that. Although, I am a bit of a money lover. “Fine! After all, you’ve been by my side all these years, working diligently. Giving you shares is appropriate. I also want to use this to motivate the company’s employees, showing that Hawthorne Corp will never mistreat those who have contributed.” Then, he very skillfully changed the subject, saying to the major shareholders, “Business marriages are a common tactic used by financial groups, so when you choose, please be sure to follow the principle of ‘maximizing group interests’.” I really couldn’t take this torture anymore, so I pointed at the photo in the upper right corner of the screen and said, “I think Miss Sinclair is more suitable… after all, I’m not very familiar with the others.” One shareholder chimed in, “Although Miss Sinclair’s Sinclair Group isn’t as financially powerful as our Hawthorne Corp, and she’s not the heir, her achievements in the entertainment industry can bring us tremendous public opinion value.” Then, many shareholders agreed it was a good choice. Finally, Liam made the decision, “Since everyone’s opinion is unanimous, let’s go with Miss Sinclair.” Most annoyingly, he even looked at me meaningfully and said, “The person Miss Blackwood approves of won’t disappoint me.” Damn it! At that moment, I wanted to slap myself silly. Weren’t wealthy families supposed to look down on people from the entertainment industry? Who would have thought that the one I picked with the least advantage would be approved by Liam? I really “shot myself in the foot” this time.

By the time I had organized the files and went back to Liam’s office to find him, he was already completely in work mode, as if the matter of marriage was an insignificant trifle to him. Seeing me come in, he looked up at me and asked, “Something wrong?” I handed him a document with both hands, very respectfully saying, “Mr. Hawthorne, please take a look.” He looked at me suspiciously, took the document, opened it to look, and let out a big sigh of relief, “You scared me, I thought this was your resignation letter.” I pretended to be puzzled and asked, “Why would I resign?” While signing the document, he said, “I’m getting married, some things might become inconvenient for you to do.” “As long as Mr. Hawthorne pays well, nothing is inconvenient for me to do.” Liam chuckled hearing this and handed the document back to me, “I like this money-loving side of you. It makes me feel that as long as I pay you, you’ll never betray me. It’s most reassuring for a boss to have such a secretary.” I clicked my tongue, took the document, unfolded it to look, and my eyes were dazzled, “Mr. Hawthorne, this… you won’t regret it, right?” Good heavens, he actually gave me 1% of the company shares directly? I thought he would write how many shares? Converted to a percentage, at most it would be zero point zero zero something percent. I didn’t expect him to be so generous? “This is what you deserve.” I held up the document, confirming again, “This is an annual income of tens of millions or even hundreds of millions, and it’s a share that has the right to participate in shareholders’ meetings.” “If you think it’s too much, I can give you less.” Is there anyone who thinks money is too much? I might wish my life was shorter, but I’d never think money was too much. I hugged the document to my chest, “If you regret it, you’re a dog.” The corners of his beautifully curved lips lifted slightly, “Look carefully at the attached conditions. Leaving the job is equivalent to automatically giving up the shares.” “Don’t worry, I’ll try hard to enjoy the company’s funeral benefit.” He couldn’t continue the conversation and waved his hand, “Go do your work. Remember to send my dry-cleaned clothes back when you get off work. Oh, and clean out the fridge, change the bed sheets, and also, find out about Miss Sinclair’s interests, pick a suitable gift, and help me arrange a meeting.”

When I got home, I hugged that contract and cried my eyes out, almost to death. My roommate came back, saw me lying lifelessly on the carpet, thought I was drunk, and almost kicked me to death. I told her the whole story with tears all over my face, and she screamed, “So you’re saying you’ve suddenly become a rich woman? This is the ultimate dream of many women, isn’t it?” I cried so hard I could barely breathe, “Marrying Liam and inheriting his estate in the future might get me tens of billions. Do you think I should cry myself to death?” Ruby is a very carefree person. Hearing this, she shook her head at me, “You… there are so many rich people, why are you so obsessed with Liam’s money bag? After all, you’re still underestimating your own beauty. Come on, sister will take you to witness a miracle.” In the noisy bar with flashing lights, I sat in the middle of the curved booth, wearing big headphones, focused on playing with my phone. Ruby brought wave after wave of men to chat me up, but I barely looked at them. “Miss.” “Miss Blackwood.” “Sister.” “Beautiful.” I waved all these people away directly. Ruby said, “Don’t be so arrogant just because you have some looks. They’re all quite good, all from wealthy families. You don’t even look at them, it’s really not giving them face, is it?” “When the right person comes, I’ll naturally give them face.” I kept my head down, my fingers actively swiping the screen, my eyes keenly searching for useful information. Even Ruby didn’t want to bother with me anymore. “Hey! Then I’ll just play by myself. With that ‘do not disturb’ look of yours, I suppose you don’t need company either.” With that, she happily ran off. Just as I was surfing the internet, suddenly a man’s gentle voice came from behind me, “Little sister, you come here just to play with your phone? You’ve chosen the wrong place, haven’t you?” I naturally put away my phone and looked up. By now, a dignified man in a suit was sitting across from me, catching my eye. “Who are you calling little sister? What year were you born?” I sized him up as he sized me up. I was thinking, this place really is a treasure trove, there’s actually this kind of eye-catching… refined man with gold-rimmed glasses? What he was thinking, I wasn’t quite sure. “1994,” he said. “I’m older than you, call me big sister.” I immediately put on a big sister air.

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My brother’s girlfriend got pregnant before they were married, and his house was still under renovation. So, they quickly had a wedding and moved into my house. Just because I brought a friend to stay over for one night, my sister-in-law threw a fit: “Aren’t you getting a little too old to be living off your family? Always mooching, and now you’re bringing friends home? Are you planning to live here forever?” I immediately threw her luggage out the door and shot back: “Who do you think you’re talking to? My name is the one on the deed. If you don’t like it, you can get out!” My parents had bought both me and my brother a house early on. My brother’s house was being remodeled to fit Verity’s tastes, but before it was finished, Verity suddenly found out she was pregnant. For the sake of the baby’s health, they moved into my house instead. Dax treated her like royalty, taking care of every little thing—doing laundry, cooking, giving her back rubs after work. Verity’s guest suite didn’t have a private bathroom, so she asked if we could switch rooms. Since she was pregnant, I agreed. Then, a bit embarrassed, Dax came to me and asked, “Can we replace the plants in your botanical collection with roses?” Because she was pregnant, Dax did anything to make her happy. I didn’t want to make things difficult for him, so I agreed and replaced the plants I had cared for over three years with roses for Verity. But today, my college friend Ariadne was in Summersville for business, and we made plans for dinner. We reminisced over a seafood boil and had a bit too much to drink. I figured it would be safer for her to stay at my place instead of going back to her hotel alone. We got home around midnight, doing our best to be quiet so as not to disturb Dax and Verity. After a quick wash, we went straight to bed. The next morning, as soon as I stepped out of my bedroom, there was Verity, storming up to me, practically seething: “Isla, are you out of your mind? Aren’t you too old to still be single? Living here for free, and now bringing friends back? Are you planning to stay here forever?” Ariadne, looking guilty and uncomfortable, quickly apologized, “Isla, did I cause any trouble for you? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I’ll leave right now.” I held her back and gently patted her shoulder, “You have nothing to apologize for. Your flight’s in the afternoon, right? Let’s have lunch first, and I’ll take you to the airport.” Verity’s face twisted in anger, and she snapped, “What do you mean by that, Isla? You will apologize to me today, or get out of my house!” I actually laughed. My house? The deed still has my name on it. When did this become her house? And she wanted me to apologize? Either her ego was bigger than anyone else’s, or she was completely out of her mind. There was no way I was letting this slide. I turned, walked into her bedroom, grabbed her suitcase, and stuffed it full of her clothes. Then I threw it right out the door. “Don’t think just because you’re pregnant you can act out like this. I’ve been putting up with you long enough.” I pointed to the door and said coldly, “And by the way, this is my house. If you want to stay here, show some respect. Otherwise, you can leave.” Verity was stunned. She just stared at me, then laughed mockingly. “You’re throwing me out? I’m carrying the Montgomery family’s future grandchild. Everything your family owns will be Dax’s one day. You’re just an outsider. All I have to do is say the word, and you’ll be kicked to the curb.” I couldn’t believe she had the nerve to say something so outdated in this day and age. Was I hearing this right? I smiled and said, “Go ahead and try. Let’s see who really runs this household.” Verity was furious, slamming the door behind her with a loud bang. Soon after, I heard her crying on the phone to Dax. “Your sister is being horrible to me. I don’t even know what I did wrong, but she told me to leave!” “She insulted me, said I was shameless for getting pregnant before the wedding. I can’t take it anymore.”

Hearing her sobbing and twisting the story to Dax only made me angrier. I opened the family group text and explained everything that had just happened. The group was just the four of us—Dax, me, and our parents. Dax had originally added Verity, but she had left the chat for some reason. As soon as I sent the message, my mom responded. She wasn’t taking Verity’s side just because she was pregnant. [Verity was wrong in this situation. I’ll talk to Dax and tell her to tone down her attitude.] My dad chimed in: [If Isla doesn’t want to get married, no one can force her. We can support her for life if need be. It’s no one else’s business.] [Dax, take control of your wife. Just because she’s pregnant doesn’t mean she can cause problems.] It was mostly my parents talking in the chat. Dax didn’t respond. That afternoon, Dax came home from work, silent and looking exhausted. I could tell he had seen the group messages and wasn’t taking it well. We had always been close growing up, barely ever fighting. This was the first real tension between us. He quietly poured a bowl of soup and took it to Verity in the bedroom. I’ll admit, maybe I was a bit too harsh this morning. Feeling bad for Dax, I poured him a cup of tea, thinking maybe I should apologize to Verity. Not because I was backing down, but because I didn’t want to make things harder for Dax. After a long silence, Dax finally looked up at me, his eyes full of frustration. “Sis, do you hate Verity?” I froze, completely taken aback. He continued, “I know this is your house. If you don’t want us here, just say so. You didn’t need to treat Verity like that. She’s pregnant. Wasn’t kicking her out a bit much?” I couldn’t believe it. Dax didn’t even ask why I kicked her out. He just took her word for it and blamed me. I let out a bitter laugh. “Do you even know the things she says about me behind your back? And you’re taking her side without knowing the full story?” Dax’s voice grew louder, more upset. “She’s pregnant, Isla! Why can’t you just be the bigger person? If something goes wrong because of her stress, can you take responsibility? Her family’s not as well off as ours, but that doesn’t give you the right to look down on her. She’s someone’s daughter too, and she shouldn’t have to put up with this.” He sighed, trying to calm down, then added, “Maybe you should move back in with Mom and Dad for a while. After Verity has the baby, we’ll leave.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This was my brother—polite, mature, and understanding since we were kids—and now he was saying these things? When had I ever looked down on Verity or judged her for her family? Verity was the one calling me an old maid, trying to claim the house my parents bought for me, and accusing me of mooching. I wasn’t going to let her trample all over my boundaries just because she was pregnant. She was the one at fault here. As I looked at the table full of food I had prepared, I felt an unexpected wave of sadness.

The next day, I received news that my company was sending me abroad for six months. As I was packing my suitcase, Dax stood awkwardly in the doorway, avoiding eye contact. “Isla, I’m sorry for what I said yesterday. I didn’t mean to take things that far. I was just worried about the tension between you and Verity. We’re not trying to take over your house. It’s yours. We should be the ones to leave.” I calmly zipped up my suitcase, put on my sunglasses, and replied, “I’m going on a work trip. I’ll be gone for six months.” Dax was stunned for a moment, then a wave of relief washed over his face. “Thanks, Isla!” As soon as I left, Verity posted an Instagram update with a picture of the latest Prada bag that Dax had bought her. [Some women really thought they could stick around like they’re royalty, but they got kicked out anyway. Don’t know their place. I’m carrying the Montgomery heir. One day, everything in this family will be mine. No wonder no man wants her. But not me—I’m treated like a princess. My husband just had to drop thousands on this bag for me, even though I told him not to.] A few of Verity’s friends chimed in with comments below: [Once the baby’s born, Verity, you’ll be the queen of the Montgomery family. No one will dare cross you then.] [That bitter old maid is probably hitting menopause.] [No wonder she doesn’t have a man. Karma’s a bitch, huh?] It was ridiculous. How could anyone still think like this? It felt like something straight out of the 1800s. I didn’t care about Verity’s Instagram post, but my parents saw it and were absolutely furious. They marched straight to Verity and demanded she delete the post and apologize to me. The moment she saw my parents, Verity quickly dropped her attitude. After all, they were the ones who paid for the house and car, and the money Dax used to buy her fancy things came from my dad’s card. Verity deleted the post and, trembling, called me. Her voice shook as she said, “Isla, I wasn’t talking about you in that post. Mom and Dad just misunderstood me, but I deleted it already. I’m sure you won’t hold it against me, right?” I let out a laugh, pausing for a moment before replying slowly, “I don’t care who you’re talking about, but could you at least try to maintain some dignity? The Montgomery family has a name in Summersville, and you’re dragging it through the dirt.” With that, I hung up. I couldn’t for the life of me understand how Dax had fallen for a woman like her. Everyone in Summersville knew Dax had married a vapid, trophy wife who spent her days flaunting her lifestyle on social media. But going so far as to publicly insult her own sister-in-law? That was a new low. What really shocked me was that after apologizing in front of my parents, Verity had the audacity to call me privately just to insult me all over again. She raged like a madwoman. “Don’t get cocky, Isla. I’m the future lady of the Montgomery family. You’re just a daughter, and Dax is the family’s only son. Everything will belong to him, and you’ll have nothing.” “I suggest you find yourself a husband, because when the time comes, I’m not letting Dax give you a single cent. You’ll end up with nothing and no one.” She wasn’t completely brainless; she knew not to leave evidence that could be used against her. She didn’t send texts or make calls that could be recorded—she used a voice message through Instagram. Listening to her growing fury, I couldn’t help but smirk. “Verity, do you really think I can’t deal with you?” She let out a triumphant laugh. “Dax loves me unconditionally. No matter what I do or say, he’ll always believe me. Your problem is that you just couldn’t find a man like him.” A woman like Verity would have plenty of skeletons in her closet if you bothered to look. But telling Dax wouldn’t do any good. He wouldn’t believe me. I had to make him see the truth for himself. Let’s see if Dax would still stand by her then.

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Logan had been active on Twitter for years and was familiar with the rules of fan circles. He knew that fan groups had zero tolerance for anyone insulting their idols. However, after only a moment’s hesitation, he pressed the post button. “Did you insult someone today: @ZacharyYe What redeeming qualities do you have besides your face? Arrogant, ignorant, and stupid. How could anyone like such a piece of trash?” Indeed, he had insulted Zachary, the current hot commodity in the entertainment industry. Not only did he use his full name instead of initials, but he also directly tagged him, truly testing the limits. However, Logan was fearless. It was just a small account with only 23 followers. Fans shouldn’t be able to find him, and even if they did, what could they do? He was already being generous by not using his main account to insult him. But he ultimately underestimated the abilities of fans and netizens. The next morning, as Logan was preparing to write and save drafts for his new work, his editor’s eighteen urgent calls disrupted his train of thought. He irritably answered the phone: “If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up.” “Wait, wait! Little Wood, was that you who insulted Zachary on Twitter?” Logan snorted when he heard Zachary’s name, “So what if I insulted him?” “It’s not ‘so what,’ it’s trending! ‘Original author of ‘The Path’ uses small account to insult male lead online, it’s not just boiling, it’s exploding!’ The editor’s exasperated voice came through the speaker, causing Logan’s ears to hurt, and he had to move the phone away a bit. He realized what was going on but remained calm, reassuring, “Well, that just saved the crew some publicity costs. They should thank me.” “I’m going to check it out and see if I can make two explosions in three days. We’ll talk later if anything comes up.” After hanging up, Logan opened Twitter but wisely didn’t log into his small account. Instead, he first logged into his main account to observe the situation. To his surprise, even this author account with a million followers had been overwhelmed. He ignored the 99+ comments and messages and opened the trending list. #Please apologize to Zachary, author of ‘The Path’# #Did you insult someone today Logan# #Protect the best Zachary in the world# #Zachary has someone he likes# “Tsk, my first time trending and it’s asking me to apologize to that thing?” Logan didn’t care much about those unpleasant comments, just briefly looked at the cause and effect. It turned out that his small account and main account Logan were mutually following each other, and there was a photo of his left hand in the album that netizens dug up and found to be identical to one Logan had posted before. He didn’t care at all about how fans were cursing him and had no intention of replying. After sending a message to his editor, he simply turned off his phone and decided to focus on writing. What nonsense trending topics, is it a big deal to have someone you like? Eyesore! By evening, things had fermented more and more seriously. Many fans even began to jointly “petition,” demanding that Zachary give up the male lead role in “The Path,” but neither side had made any public response. Gossip marketing accounts began to comb through the love-hate relationship between Logan and Zachary over and over again, but no matter how much they combed, they couldn’t find any intersection between the two. In the end, they concluded that Logan was probably very dissatisfied with Zachary playing his male lead. In fact, although Zachary was undoubtedly the top traffic in the entertainment industry, his acting skills were really average. More than half of those millions of fans were there for his face. Whether or not there was data to prove it, anyway, Logan firmly believed this. Logan, who had spent three hours writing five hundred words, decided not to struggle anymore. He decisively closed his computer and prepared to go to sleep. But when he really lay down, he couldn’t help but take out his phone and watch the video that had angered him to curse again. It was a video of a movie roadshow scene. In the video, a reporter asked Zachary if he would like someone with the female lead’s personality in real life. Zachary, in a black suit, shook his head gracefully, indicating he wouldn’t. The reporter was about to follow up when they heard him slowly say: I have someone I like. Logan sneered at his phone, wishing he could poke out his dog eyes with his fingers. He gestured a few times, but unexpectedly, he didn’t hold back and poked the like button. He hurriedly unliked it, thinking to himself, damn it, will this trend again?! Out of sight, out of mind. Logan finally decided to turn off his phone and go to sleep, but a SnapChat message suddenly popped up on the screen. Seeing that familiar name, Logan’s eyelids twitched. He wanted to ignore it, but he was still curious about what the other person would say. Zachary: Are you there? Logan: If you’re here to ask if I’m the one who insulted you on the trending topic, then there’s no need to ask, it was me. If you’re here to ask why I insulted you, there’s also no need to ask, do I need a reason to insult you? Zachary had just finished work and returned to the hotel. Seeing that the other person had been typing for half a minute and sent such a message, he couldn’t help but laugh. But then he thought of something, his expression darkened, and his smile faded. He slowly typed “No” and sent it without waiting for Logan’s reply, then sent another message. Zachary: I just wanted to ask if you want to get back together? Logan looked at the message on the screen, speechless for a moment, then exploded: Go get back together with the person you like! After sending it, he felt that he had revealed his emotions too obviously. Being so angry made it seem like he still liked him. After hesitating for a moment, Logan decisively chose to recall the message, then haughtily replied with one word. Logan: Fuck off. Later, until midnight, Logan didn’t receive a reply. Logan and Zachary had a history, even a long one. In college, when he first started writing on the website, he didn’t have much popularity, so he remembered very clearly the early readers who often commented on his work. Zachary was one of the few readers he could remember. The reason was simple: while others either praised Logan for writing well or encouraged him to keep going, only Zachary, under a username, seriously said that if he ever became famous, he would definitely play this male lead. This book was “The Path.” At first, Logan thought Zachary was just showing off, but later, after each update, he could see Zachary commenting and analyzing the plot. Over time, the two got to know each other. Later, they discovered that they were actually schoolmates, and their relationship became even closer. Logan fell in love first, boldly and passionately pursuing Zachary for a month before succeeding. Five years passed like this. Zachary became a hot star, while Logan also became a god-tier author who could easily sell the copyright for tens of millions. But six months ago, Logan unilaterally proposed a breakup, ending their cohabitation. At that time, Zachary had asked many times why, but Logan never answered.

The like that Logan accidentally tapped did indeed trend again. However, unlike what he had expected, this time, some gossip netizens let their imaginations run wild, concocting a drama of a god-tier author secretly loving the current top traffic star but unable to have him, thus hating him out of love. Isn’t there a saying, the deeper the love, the harsher the criticism? Logan pretended not to know about this, but Zachary shared a love song expressing secret love on Twitter, seemingly in response, which sparked another round of heated discussion. “Is our Zachary saying he has a secret crush on someone?!” “Taking Zachary away, going to listen to the song, not interested in anyone else.” “As an outsider, I feel a bit sorry for Zachary hahaha. He played the lead role but got harshly criticized by the author, really unfortunate.” “I think that Logan guy’s criticism was quite right. What does Zachary have going for him besides his face? Fans, don’t talk about acting skills. If that’s called acting, I could win an Oscar.” “This song sounds so heartbreaking, so who hurt who hahaha…” Of course, Logan also saw Zachary’s Twitter post but didn’t think much of it, assuming it had nothing to do with him. Who knew that later, Zachary would even share this song with him on SnapChat. Logan: ??? Zachary: Do you like it? Logan: Are you crazy? Zachary: Come to the opening ceremony of “The Path” the day after tomorrow. It wasn’t a question, but a statement. Although Logan had previously agreed to attend, why did seeing Zachary say this make him so uncomfortable? Logan didn’t reply for a long time, and Zachary sent another question mark. Logan: Want me to perform a live diss of Zachary for the reporters? Zachary: … Zachary: Whatever makes you happy Zachary: It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you Logan was taken aback. Indeed, since their breakup, they hadn’t seen each other once in these six months. Thinking of this, Logan’s not-so-young heart began to flutter again. He knew he was being a bit pathetic. They had already broken up, and it should have been a clean break, but he still couldn’t help wanting to see him. After all, it had been half a year, 6 months, 180 days. Zachary: If I don’t see you that day Zachary: You better be prepared to get screwed. ????????WTF??? The opening ceremony for “The Path” was held at a high-end hotel near the film base in Hillsdale. The venue was packed, mostly with reporters from various media outlets. Logan sat on the stage with the director and main creative team, but he secretly grumbled, seeing the reporters’ fiery gazes, knowing they wanted to see him and Zachary battle it out live. Tsk, shouldn’t have come. Before going on stage, the event organizer’s person in charge smiled apologetically at Logan while “advising” him to be considerate and not start a verbal battle on stage. It would be best to clarify that he and Zachary had a good relationship, which was why he had vented on Twitter. Logan agreed with “okay, okay, okay” while inwardly mocking, do you think netizens are all idiots? They’ll believe whatever you say? Whether intentional or not, he was arranged to sit on the far left, with four or five people between him and Zachary. This way, even if they wanted to have a duel with their gazes, it would be difficult to achieve. Zachary arrived relatively late, so Logan hadn’t run into him yet. Even if they were face to face, he wouldn’t know what to say. Finally, it came to the media Q&A session at the end of the press conference. By this time, the reporters were all excited and eager to ask questions. Logan saw this and just wanted to roll his eyes. “Zachary, may I ask how you view Logan’s comments about you on Twitter?” Zachary picked up the microphone and smiled, “I appreciate Logan’s supervision.” “Zachary, do you have any thoughts on playing the male lead Crispian in ‘The Path’?” Hearing this question, Logan slightly turned his body to look at Zachary. “I’m very honored,” Zachary pondered for a moment, then continued, “I really like the book ‘The Path,’ and playing Crispian has been a dream of mine for a long time.” The reporters below nodded understandingly, just pleasantries after all, everyone would say that. However, the fact that Zachary could maintain this attitude towards someone who had publicly insulted him showed that his demeanor was indeed quite good. This statement actually gained Zachary quite a bit of goodwill. Logan appeared very calm on the surface, but no one knew what emotions were hidden beneath that rather handsome face. The next reporter then threw a question at Logan, “Logan, what’s your opinion on Zachary playing Crispian?” Logan: “Well, he needs to work hard.” The audience burst into laughter, looking at him with meaningful gazes. Zachary suddenly chimed in, “In the future, I hope Teacher Logan will give me more guidance.” He said the last four words very slowly. For some reason, Logan suddenly had a bad feeling. The reporters specially invited to the press conference all had a sense of propriety and wouldn’t throw out questions that were too sharp or embarrassing. So this press conference ended smoothly without any incidents. There was also a small banquet in the evening. Logan didn’t plan to stay long, but Zachary had specifically called him on SnapChat to come, yet didn’t even give him a glance or specially seek him out. What did that mean? Logan said goodbye to the organizers and was about to leave when he was stopped by the staff member he had greeted earlier just as he was leaving the hotel. “Excuse me, are you Mr. Logan?” “I am, is there something?” The staff member pointed to a young man holding a bouquet of flowers nearby, “This gentleman said there’s a flower order, the address is here, and the recipient is you.” The young man also came over and handed the bouquet to Logan, “Sir, here are your flowers.” Logan was confused but accepted the bouquet. He found it contained a type of flower he had never seen before, with a card inserted in the middle that only had two lines of text, and next to it was a room key card. Logan’s face darkened when he saw it clearly. “Trash flowers for a piece of trash, perfect match.” “9 PM, Royal Hotel Room 1106, wait for me.” Zachary, you bastard! Logan naturally refused to obediently go to the hotel and wait for him. Holding a bouquet of trash flowers, he decisively left.

After the banquet ended, Zachary went to the Royal Hotel, but there was no one in Room 1106. He wasn’t too surprised; if Logan had really listened to him like this, he wouldn’t have insisted on breaking up with him. Mentioning this, Zachary was extremely depressed. Zachary could swear he hadn’t cheated, hadn’t neglected him, hadn’t lied to him, hadn’t done anything to wrong him. Why was Logan so determined to break up? Was all their years of affection fake? He had asked Logan many times, but the answers were all similar. Logan said there were no feelings left, so they should separate. But this didn’t make sense. To say Logan didn’t like Zachary? Even a dog wouldn’t believe that. When Logan was pursuing Zachary back then, he had really put in a lot of effort. Zachary thought that since Logan wanted to be apart for a while, he’d let him be. Anyway, he would eventually come back to him. Who knew that after six months apart, Logan still showed no intention of coming back. Zachary vaguely felt something was wrong. He looked at the hung-up phone call, hesitated for a moment, then turned and left. Six months was long enough. His Logan should come back now. “Logan, why are you back so late?” The security guard, familiar with Logan, casually asked. “Went out for some air, to clear my head. Otherwise, I kept feeling like I was a big idiot.” “Ah? Haha, Logan, you’re really funny.” As Logan walked towards his home, he was cursing himself in his mind. Logan, you’re a complete and utter idiot. Wandering around the hotel area for 5 hours just because of a bouquet of trash flowers? He was just saying it, why did you take it seriously? What’s the use of waiting until 9 o’clock or even 11 o’clock? Didn’t you still not see a single shadow? He could hardly believe that such a stupid thing was actually done by himself! The key is that he didn’t even wait for him! That trash Zachary didn’t come at all! The more he thought about it, the more he wished he could travel back in time and slap himself. Unfortunately, time travel couldn’t be realized, so Logan could only go to sleep quickly, attempting to forget everything after a good night’s rest. However, wanting to forget everything? That was certainly impossible. Logan was woken up by knocking on the door. He rubbed his eyes and irritably scratched his head. “Who is it? So early in the morning.” Logan opened the door and saw Zachary’s rather good-looking face. For a moment, he thought he was dreaming. “It’s already 11 o’clock, and you say it’s early?” Zachary didn’t wait for an invitation and slipped past Logan into the house. Logan quickly closed the door and chased after him, “Who are you?! Did I let you in?” Zachary made himself at home, “I’ve been driving for several hours. Let me rest for a bit.” “Who knows where you were messing around last night!” Zachary paused in his movements, pointed his index finger at Logan, and said, “Didn’t I tell you to wait for me in 1106?” Mentioning this, Logan became furious: “Bullshit, you didn’t even go. You told me to wait for you?!” “You went to the Royal Hotel last night? I arrived at the hotel at nine o’clock. How come I didn’t see you?” Logan was speechless. He had waited so long at the entrance, yet didn’t see him? Logan suddenly realized that a big star like Zachary might have entered through the side door… Zachary: “Speak.” “No! Am I crazy to go look for you?” Zachary looked at him for a few moments, not asking further, then sat down on the sofa. “…” How can this person be so brazen? “Zachary! Get up, this is my home!” Logan said, then reached out to pull him, but unexpectedly was pulled into Zachary’s arms. The two fell onto the sofa. Zachary half-embraced Logan, his warm breath blowing on his face, making him feel a bit itchy. Logan struggled, “Get off! Don’t crush me!” “Don’t move!” Zachary stared quietly at Logan, “It’s been half a year since we last met. I really missed you.” After saying this, he lowered his head and tightly hugged Logan. Logan’s breath caught, and his heart began to soften, losing its sharp edges. Zachary raised his head to see Logan not reacting, lifted the corner of his mouth slightly, then gently kissed his lips. Unlike their first kiss, which was careful and tentative, this one was gentle enough. “Enough! Zachary!” Logan suddenly pushed him away hard, his face expressionless as he pursed his lips. “What’s wrong?” Zachary acted as if nothing had happened, adjusted his posture a bit, and made some space for Logan. Logan: “What do you mean what’s wrong? Zachary, we’ve already broken up.” Zachary looked up at him and said calmly: “So?” “So we should keep our distance. Zachary, please leave immediately.” Although Logan was usually easy to explode and carefree, when he really put on a serious face, it was quite intimidating. But Zachary was unmoved, even laughing, and ruffled Logan’s hair like before they broke up, “Stop messing around, Logan. Move back in.” Logan was speechless. The original mix of emotions – happiness, difficulty, hesitation, heartache – suddenly deflated like a balloon, all gone at once. Zachary had never taken the breakup seriously. From beginning to end, he didn’t know why Logan wanted to break up, and he… didn’t care. Logan smiled for the first time, but it was shallow and fleeting. “Zachary, listen carefully, I’ll say it one last time,” Logan paused, seeing Zachary’s expression sink, no longer as relaxed as before, then continued, “We, I Logan and you, Zachary, have broken up, with no connection anymore. I won’t appear in front of you again in the future, and please, don’t come to bother me anymore.” Hearing this, Zachary felt a faint uneasiness in his heart. He wanted to appear more at ease, but his words came out tense, “Logan, I haven’t agreed to break up yet.” Logan: “That’s not important. What’s important is… I have no feelings for you anymore.” “You’re lying to me,” Zachary said, “I don’t believe you don’t like me anymore.” Hearing these words, Logan couldn’t help but laugh. Yes, I don’t believe it either, that I wouldn’t like you anymore, but do you really like me? “What don’t you believe? You will eventually be with the person you like, and I will meet someone else, confess, fall in love, and spend a lifetime together. In a person’s life, they will meet many people and forget many people. You and I are just a part of each other’s life journeys.” “Even if we walked hand in hand for many years, were happy, and… loved,” Logan hesitated, then said softly, “But now we’ve separated.” “Zachary, let’s part on good terms—” “To hell with parting on good terms!” Zachary kicked the coffee table hard, a harsh and loud scraping sound making his anger seem so real. To be fair, Zachary was actually a person with quite a good temper. In all the years Logan had been with him, he had rarely seen him lose his temper. Zachary took several deep breaths, seemingly trying to calm himself down, “Logan, even if we break up, shouldn’t you give me a reason? Have I, Zachary, wronged you in any way? You say nothing and unilaterally break up. I don’t agree, and you move out while I’m not home. When I go to find you, you shut me out. Even if I did something wrong, shouldn’t you give me a chance to explain?” “But you didn’t. You just stubbornly insisted on your own thoughts. That’s fine too. I thought maybe you wanted to be apart for a while, change your mood, and you would come back one day. In these six months, how many times have I asked you to get back together? And how did you answer me?” “If it wasn’t ‘fuck off,’ it was ‘impossible.’ Logan, I really want to know, what exactly did I do that made you detest me so much?” Logan listened quietly, showing no reaction. When he heard Zachary ask, he coldly said, “You did nothing wrong.” Zachary was amused by his anger, “I did nothing wrong, so why did you break up?” Logan no longer looked at him, but stared at the oranges that had fallen to the ground, slowly saying, “I just… don’t love you anymore, Zachary.” The large living room suddenly fell silent. Logan could even hear his own heartbeat in his chest. After who knows how long, maybe a second, maybe ten minutes, Zachary suddenly laughed, breaking the room’s silence. “If that’s the case, I really didn’t do anything wrong.” Zachary ignored Logan and walked straight to the door. Logan stood in place, only daring to look up at him when Zachary reached the door. Logan silently opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to call out to him, but ultimately didn’t make a sound. “Logan,” Zachary had already opened the door but stopped and turned around to call out. Logan met his gaze, not speaking, just waiting for his next words. Zachary shook his head, ultimately not continuing.

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Lucy and my husband’s first love were both diagnosed with cancer. As the surgery approached, my husband emptied our savings to pay for her treatment. Meanwhile, my daughter had to endure the pain without any help. He told me to be generous, reminding me that the living always take priority over the dead. But what he didn’t know was that his first love was faking it, and my daughter… she wasn’t coming back. “Mom, please don’t cry.” “Lulu doesn’t hurt, Lulu is fine.” Lucy’s pale face still managed to produce a smile, her little hand reaching up to wipe away the tears from my eyes. At the entrance of the operating room, filled with the stinging scent of antiseptics, Lucy’s arm was hooked up to several IV bags as she leaned weakly against me. “Be good, Lulu, Dad will be here any minute.” “We’ll get the surgery done soon, I promise.” Ding! My phone buzzed with a notification of a withdrawal. Lucy’s condition had suddenly deteriorated. Dr. Johnson had said the surgery couldn’t wait any longer; it had to be tonight. The surgery was expensive, and we didn’t have enough money. So I rushed Lucy to the hospital to get her registered, while Simon took my card to the bank to withdraw every penny we had. As Lucy’s clothes became soaked with cold sweat, Simon finally appeared on the hospital’s lobby monitor. I felt a surge of relief. The bank wasn’t that close to the hospital, and rush hour traffic was terrible. For Simon to make it back this quickly, I felt my eyes sting with tears. After all, he never seemed to care much for us. In situations like these, every second mattered; the sooner the surgery, the better Lucy’s chances of survival. Simon quickly finished paying and rushed toward the operating room, his face full of tension. “Daddy!” At the end of the hallway, Lucy’s eyes lit up with a brief glimmer of hope, her small hand trembling as she reached out for him. “Who’s scheduled for the surgery?” I held Lucy, ready to take the papers from Simon’s hand. Her little fingers barely touched his shirt when a gust of wind seemed to sweep him away. He walked right past us. “It’s her, doctor. It’s Becca.” Out of breath, he rushed to Rebecca Whitman. “Simon, it hurts…” Rebecca, nestled in his arms, bit her lip, her eyes welling up with tears, as delicate as an innocent little flower. Simon held her, murmuring reassurances, looking like he was in agony himself. I knew who she was—Simon’s first love. “Doctor, this must be a mistake. The surgery is for Lucy Ericson.” My heart skipped a beat, but I forced myself to speak as calmly as I could. The doctor checked the paperwork several times. “There’s no mistake, it’s for Rebecca Whitman.” From where Simon couldn’t see, Rebecca shot me a malicious glare. Her flushed cheeks made it clear she wasn’t suffering from any illness at all. With the surgery ready to begin, the doctor cleared the area. “Alright, only the patient and their family members should stay. Everyone else, please leave.”

I looked at Simon in disbelief, but he remained tense, avoiding eye contact with me the entire time. I placed Lucy on a chair and grabbed his arm. “What about the money? That was for Lucy’s surgery!” “Have you lost your mind?” Simon looked at me coldly, shaking off my hand. “I haven’t lost my mind. Becca has cancer, and the doctor said she needs surgery tonight.” “And what about our daughter?! If she doesn’t get surgery tonight, she’ll die!” I grabbed him again, shaking him desperately. Simon frowned, hesitating for a moment. “Julia Harris, stop making a scene!” “Even if you hate her, you shouldn’t curse your own daughter like that.” “We can earn more money, but Becca only has one life!” He pushed me harder this time, sending me stumbling to the ground. “You’ll regret this, Simon!” But all I was left with was the sight of his back, as cold as ice. My heart felt like it was drowning in bitterness. Tears streamed down my face, falling onto Lucy’s small cheeks. Her once-rosy face had become pale and gaunt from the sickness. “Lulu… I don’t think we can do the surgery today…” “Daddy doesn’t want us anymore.” “Mommy… Mommy…” My throat tightened, choking back sobs so much that I couldn’t even speak. “Mommy, don’t cry.” “Let’s just go home… I’m not in pain anymore.” Lucy, seeing my tear-filled eyes, tried to smile. That smile was worse than a cry. She was only five years old, too young to understand. But in that moment, I felt she understood everything. I held her close, her tiny frame so thin and fragile. I will never forget that night. “I’ll never leave you, Mommy.” “Lulu just wants Mommy to always be happy.” I can never forgive Simon. But I can’t forgive myself either.

Lucy is gone. The funeral hall was filled with sobs. The daughter I had carried for ten months and raised for five years was now just a small box. “How strange.” “Where’s her father? Why isn’t he here?” Some relatives whispered among themselves. My heart felt heavy and bitter as I took out my phone, dialing Simon’s number over and over again. But the only response was the cold sound of a machine. Finally, on the tenth try, he picked up. “What do you want, Julia?” Even though I couldn’t see him, I could hear the irritation in his hushed voice. “Simon, come see Lucy one last time…” My voice was hoarse, and he seemed surprised, but quickly returned to his usual self. Lucy had always wanted nothing more than her father’s love. So I begged him. I begged him to come to her funeral. Begged him to see her one last time. “What nonsense are you talking about?” “Stop causing trouble, Julia.” “Becca just had surgery and she needs someone with her.” “Once she’s out of the hospital, I’ll come spend time with you, okay?” His voice echoed in the room, leaving everyone in shocked silence. “Simon, please… I’m begging you… Come see Lucy.” “She’s being buried today…” I threw away all my pride and dignity, begging him on my knees. But he showed no mercy. “Julia Harris, how could you say such things about your own daughter?” I collapsed on the floor, sobbing so hard I nearly fainted. Then, I heard a soft voice: “Simon… it hurts…” Rebecca had woken up. The phone call ended with a click. Suddenly, I felt like the entire world was spinning. I faintly heard urgent voices calling out to me: “Help! Someone get help!” “Julia’s fainted!”

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When our daughter died in the earthquake, my wife was off visiting her high school sweetheart. I asked her to attend Chloe’s funeral, but she looked at me with disgust, her voice dripping with disdain. “Can you stop being ridiculous? David and his daughter are injured and need someone to care for them.” She didn’t seem to realize that David and Emily only had minor injuries, while my daughter was gone forever. Later, after we divorced, she finally understood—without me, she was nothing. “Dad, I’m so cold.” Chloe trembled in my arms, her whole body shaking. The fierce winter wind howled through the broken walls. I reached out as best I could, trying to share whatever warmth I had left with her. “Don’t worry, Chloe. Daddy’s here.” “Mom’s outside. She’ll be here soon to save us.” When the earthquake hit, Chloe and I were home. The sudden collapse trapped us under the rubble, with my legs pinned beneath a slab of concrete, leaving me immobile. Luckily, my wife, Sarah, was in Bristol, safe from the disaster. I was certain she’d come back to rescue us soon. “Dad, my leg hurts.” I looked down and saw a dark stain of blood spreading beneath her. I hadn’t noticed it earlier, but Chloe’s injuries were far worse than mine. My heart clenched painfully, and tears began to fall. “Chloe, hold Daddy’s hand. Just hang on a little longer, okay?” Even though she was in pain, my sweet girl nodded in agreement. She’d always been so well-behaved, even now. We waited in the freezing rubble for what felt like hours, until I was nearly at the point of collapse. Then, at last, I heard footsteps above us. It was Sarah. She had finally come with help. Hope surged in my chest. I shouted with all my remaining strength. “Sarah, we’re here!” Chloe heard her too, her tiny voice calling out in excitement. “Mom! Mom, Chloe’s here!” “Mom, please come save us!” I reached out, weakly tapping a pipe beside me, trying to make as much noise as possible. My heart pounded with relief—Chloe was going to be saved. But to my horror, the footsteps paused only briefly above us, then moved away, fading into the distance. I froze. I couldn’t believe that Sarah had mistaken our house, or that she hadn’t heard our desperate cries. No, there was only one explanation. She was going to the house behind ours—to save David, her high school sweetheart. It was so cold that my tears froze almost instantly on my cheeks. I held Chloe tightly, doing my best to keep my voice steady. “Chloe, hang in there just a little longer. Mom… Mom will come back for us.” In the darkness, Chloe’s quiet sobs broke the silence. “Dad, you’re lying, aren’t you?” “Mom’s not coming to save us. She’s saving David instead.” No child should ever have to bear such a truth. I pulled her closer, holding her shivering body against mine. “Dad, did I do something wrong?” “Why doesn’t Mom ever smile at me? Does she not like me?” “But why… why doesn’t she love me?” As she spoke, I felt her little body grow colder and colder. In that moment, the pain in my legs no longer mattered. All I cared about was keeping my daughter alive. Unable to move my arms, I began banging my head against the pipe, over and over. Blood streamed down my face, but the only sound in the icy night was the dull thudding of my futile efforts. Sarah never came back. Chloe was gone. The vibrant little girl who once danced around and called me “Daddy” had died, right there, when her mother abandoned us. When I felt her body go completely cold, my world went dark. All my hope, all my effort, had been in vain. Sarah had chosen David Campbell over our daughter, and Chloe had paid the price. I slumped over and blacked out.

When I woke again, the sterile scent of disinfectant filled my nose. The memories came rushing back, and the crushing weight of grief settled in my chest. “Chloe!” I screamed her name. Nurses rushed in, asking me how I felt, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t feel any pain in my broken leg, which was now suspended in a cast. “Where’s my Chloe? Where is she?” The nurses went silent. The head nurse looked at me with sympathy, her face heavy with sorrow. “Mr. Blake, I’m so sorry for your loss.” In that moment, it felt like someone had ripped my heart from my chest. The pain was so overwhelming that I couldn’t breathe. Everything around me fell silent. All I could hear was Chloe’s voice. She was calling, “Daddy, help me.” But I hadn’t been able to save her. And the one person who could have—her mother—had chosen to abandon us. It took a long time for me to calm down. Finally, I asked to see Chloe one last time. The nurses resisted at first, but eventually they relented and helped me into a wheelchair. On the way, I heard a voice coming from the room next door. Sarah’s voice. The anger inside me flared into a raging storm. I remembered how she could have saved Chloe, but instead, she saved David. I pushed open the door, ignoring the nurses trying to stop me. The sight before me was like a knife to the heart. Sarah was holding a little girl—David’s daughter, Emily. She was comforting her, smiling at David with a tenderness I hadn’t seen in years. They looked like a perfect family. When Sarah saw me, the warmth in her eyes instantly disappeared. Her voice was sharp and annoyed. “Why are you barging in like this? Can’t you see that David and Emily are still recovering?” I glanced at them. They had nothing but a few scrapes. Yet Sarah was treating them as if they were the most precious people in the world. Meanwhile, her own husband was sitting in a wheelchair with a broken leg, and her daughter—our daughter—was dead. And she didn’t spare a word of concern. I rolled my wheelchair closer. “Sarah, your daughter is dead.” “Do you know why she died?” “It’s because, when you passed by our house, you didn’t hesitate. You didn’t care. You chose to save David instead.” Sarah’s eyes flickered. She opened her mouth as if to say something but then shook her head. “John, can you stop with this jealousy nonsense?” “You’re just trying to make me feel guilty, to blame David for what happened.” I stared at her, feeling like I was looking at a stranger. I couldn’t believe that this woman—the woman I had loved for seven years—could say something so heartless. “Do you really think I would make up Chloe’s death just to spite you?” Sarah narrowed her eyes, her expression mocking. “Wouldn’t you?” “All you ever do is use Chloe to guilt-trip me or to attack David and Emily. What else do you do?” Two years ago, David and his daughter had arrived in the city with nothing. They showed up at our house in the middle of the night. I pitied them and offered them a villa we weren’t using. I even found David an easy job. But in Sarah’s eyes, I had somehow become the villain, targeting them. I laughed bitterly. “Sarah, do you even believe the things you’re saying?” Her face darkened. “At least I don’t resort to underhanded tricks like you.” “Underhanded? Me?” I asked, incredulous. “You’re the one with something to hide, not me.” Disappointment settled deep in my chest. In that moment, I realized I had nothing left to expect from her. “Chloe’s biggest regret in life,” I said quietly, “was having a mother like you.” Without waiting for her response, I turned and left the room.

After Chloe was cremated, I began to prepare her funeral. The little girl who had embodied every bit of joy and warmth in my life was now reduced to a cold urn of ashes, resting in my hands. After much thought, I decided that Sarah should still be invited to the funeral. Despite everything, she was Chloe’s mother. She deserved to be there. I called her again and again, but my calls either went straight to voicemail or rang endlessly without being answered. With each unanswered call, the silence around me felt heavier. In the distance, I could hear laughter coming from the room next door. I never expected that, even after our daughter’s death, my wife wouldn’t want to attend her funeral. Suddenly, a soft ping alerted me to a message on my phone. I checked it and saw a notification for a bank deduction of fifteen thousand pounds. Fifteen thousand wasn’t a huge sum for me, but the recipient caught my attention—St. George’s Hospital. I hadn’t made any payments for my own care yet, so there was only one possibility. Sarah had used my card to pay for David and Emily’s hospital fees! While Chloe lay in a cold, lifeless urn, David and his daughter were enjoying the luxury of a private hospital suite, all paid for with my money. Rage bubbled up inside me. Without a second thought, I stormed into the room next door. David didn’t even bother to look up, assuming it was Sarah. “You’re back so soon, Sarah?” he said casually. “Emily was just saying how much she missed you.” The irony hit me like a slap in the face. Sarah, who couldn’t even be bothered to check on our daughter, rushed to David’s side the moment Emily expressed the slightest longing for her. There was no point in pretending anymore. I said coldly, “David, you’ve racked up fifteen thousand pounds in hospital bills. How would you like to pay? Cash or transfer?” David’s head jerked up in shock, his large eyes wide with fear. “John… What are you doing here?” I gave him a bitter smile, pulling out my phone to show him the bank notification. “Sarah doesn’t have any money of her own. Everything she’s spent on you—this hospital stay, the fancy clothes, the villa rent—has all come out of my pocket.” “This time, it’s fifteen thousand. Add to that everything else I’ve provided for you, and the rent on the villa. You owe me one hundred and twenty-five thousand pounds.” David’s face turned pale. “That’s impossible… You must have made a mistake. How could it add up to that much?” I was about to answer when Sarah stormed into the room, cutting me off. “John, what are you doing? Are you seriously harassing David and Emily while I’m not here?” “They’re still recovering, and you have the audacity to ask them for money?” “Is there anything in your world besides money?” Sarah shoved me aside, placing herself protectively between me and David.

Before I could respond, David jumped in, trying to sound pitiful. “Sarah, I’ve only just come to this city. I don’t know anyone here. You were the only person I could turn to.” “I never thought your husband would be upset over something like that.” “And now, when we’re still not fully healed, he’s trying to throw us out of the hospital.” I stared at him in disbelief, stunned by how easily he twisted the truth. I shifted my gaze to Sarah, who stood defiantly at his side. “David, you know very well why you came here,” I said icily. “And you know I haven’t thrown you out or done anything to force you.” “You’ve eaten my food, lived in my house, and now you’re turning the tables on me?” “Does that not weigh on your conscience?” David’s face grew even paler. He pressed a hand to his chest and started coughing violently, as if overcome by the stress. Seeing him struggle, Sarah snapped. Without warning, she slapped me across the face. The force of the blow left me stunned. I raised a hand to my stinging cheek, staring at her in disbelief. Sarah sneered at me, her lips curling in contempt. “That slap was for David.” I laughed, but the taste of salt reminded me that I wasn’t amused—I was heartbroken. “Sarah, remember this.” “From this moment on, I will act as though Chloe never had a mother like you.” I didn’t wait for her response. I turned my wheelchair around and left the room. Whatever happened from here, I was done. I would never allow them to hurt me again. Chloe’s funeral was set for the next day. The sky was heavy with thick clouds, blocking out the sun. Before long, a mixture of rain and snow began to fall. Sarah knew what day it was—she knew it was our daughter’s funeral—but she didn’t show up. While I sat alone in the cold, holding Chloe’s tiny urn, I saw something that made my blood boil. David had posted a photo on his social media—a picture of him, Sarah, and Emily, smiling happily together. They looked like the perfect family. I was drenched, pushing my wheelchair through the rain, clutching Chloe’s ashes, when suddenly, a figure appeared beside me. An umbrella shielded me from the rain, and I looked up to see Samantha Quinn. We’d been childhood friends, but ever since I married Sarah, we had drifted apart. I never expected her to show up at my daughter’s funeral. “I know you’re in pain,” she said gently, “but now isn’t the time to fall apart.” Her bright, clear eyes seemed to see straight into my heart, as if she knew everything I was feeling. She was right. It wasn’t time to break down. Not yet. There was something I needed to do. After the funeral, I sent Sarah a message. It was simple—just five words: Let’s get a divorce.

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After the hard-won UK Government Scholarship was given to the Headmaster’s daughter, my tutor called me in for a chat. “Let Lily Brown take charge of your project from now on; you can assist her.” I was both angry and amused. Not only had they taken my scholarship, but now they wanted to steal my project outcomes too? I flatly refused. The tutor scoffed, “Once you enter the real world, you’ll see that these kinds of unspoken rules are everywhere!” The project outcomes had caught the attention of a national expert group, leading to the appointment of a professor to our university. The school sent Lily Brown to meet him, and the professor frowned. “Isn’t your daughter the head of this project?” Recently, the recipients of the highly competitive UK Government Scholarship were announced. Everyone in the department believed that I was the obvious choice for this year’s scholarship, and I thought so too. This wasn’t blind confidence; I genuinely stood out among the competitors. My academic performance spoke for itself. I had won first place in last year’s Student Start-up Competition and English Speaking Competition, had received national-level honours five times, and had even published a paper in a scientific journal last year. Thus, it was almost an unspoken agreement among everyone that I would be the scholarship winner. My flatmates had even booked a restaurant early on to celebrate my success. Everything was set; all I needed was the final confirmation. Little did I know, instead of a celebratory breeze, a bucket of cold water was about to be thrown over me. “I can’t believe some people can be so shameless! Popping champagne before the results, thinking they’re something special.” “Exactly! She’s like a clown, truly embarrassing for our department.” “Not to mention, our Lily was so understated and collected while winning the scholarship.” “Shh, keep it down; you don’t want her to hear you.” “Am I supposed to be scared she’ll hear me? She’s already made a fool of herself.” I tuned them out, expressionless as I walked into the lecture theatre. The previously noisy room fell silent in an instant. Everyone stopped what they were doing, all eyes fixed on me. I casually lifted my eyelids and scanned the crowd, finally resting my gaze on Chloe Smith, the one who claimed she wasn’t afraid of me. The moment our eyes met, her bravado faltered, and she quickly looked down, unable to maintain eye contact. Jessica noticed and smirked; she was known for her fiery temper. “Speak up! Cat got your tongue?” The students glanced at each other, like frightened birds scattering, leaving only Chloe with her head hung low, like an ostrich. “I’ve never seen someone so brazen, stealing from others and acting righteous about it.” “Exactly! I’ve never encountered someone so shameless. Who doesn’t know Lily only got the scholarship because of her father?” “Right? I’ve never seen such a devoted lapdog either.” My three flatmates chimed in, and Chloe’s face turned a mix of blue and white. A few people nearby chuckled. Chloe lifted her head, indignation etched on her face. “You…” “What’s that?” I shot her a sideways glance. She faltered, words caught in her throat, unable to decide whether to speak or stay silent, her frustration causing her to stomp her feet. After lunch, my tutor summoned me to his office. “Sophie, I know you’re a clever girl. For the past two years, you’ve consistently ranked at the top, winning numerous awards and bringing great honour to the school.” He started by flattering me, placing a metaphorical crown upon my head before shifting the topic. “But the scholarship isn’t just based on grades; there’s also your school conduct. Now, as for Lily Brown…” “Oh, you mean Lily Brown, the Headmaster’s daughter?” I interjected.

The tutor fell silent, staring at me, words caught in his throat. Finally, he let out a sigh. The office grew quiet, the hum of the air conditioning the only sound. If the award had gone to anyone else, I wouldn’t have questioned it. But there was nothing remarkable about Lily among the candidates. Coupled with her Headmaster father and the tutor’s reaction, it was clear there was foul play. Sure enough, what the tutor said next confirmed my suspicions. “In any case, the scholarship decision is final. I’m only here to inform you. Whether you accept it or not won’t affect the outcome. You’re a bright student; you should understand what I mean. Besides, you’re so talented that you can always try again next year. Think of this as a chance to be magnanimous.” “Let her have it?” I scoffed, “Why should I give up what’s mine?” “Sophie Carter!” The tutor slammed his hand on the desk, glaring at me. “I’ve been civil with you; don’t take it too far. I’m just trying to help you, so don’t bite the hand that feeds you!” His ugly side was laid bare before me. “Do you not understand? The scholarship has nothing to do with you anymore. What you think doesn’t matter. You can sugarcoat it by saying you’re letting her have it, but let’s be honest—this school is practically hers. She can have whatever she wants. If you want to blame someone, blame your lack of a good father!” The tutor’s tone grew harsh, veins bulging on his forehead. Seeing I remained unfazed, he took a deep breath and threw his water cup against the wall, the sound echoing in the silence. I frowned, suppressing my anger, my upbringing preventing me from acting out against a teacher. I inclined my head slightly. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll be going.” With that, I stood up and headed for the door. Just as I reached it, I paused. “One piece of advice: be careful not to sink your own ship.” In response, there was another crash of objects being thrown. On my way back to class, I ran into a few flatmates. They noticed my foul mood and wisely chose not to ask. We chatted casually, and from a distance, I spotted those who had been gossiping earlier, now gathered around Lily, laughing. “Lily, you’ve truly brought glory to our halls!” “Of course! It’s a national award, not just anyone can win it—only our Lily is impressive!” Lily smiled coyly, pretending to be modest. “It’s all thanks to everyone’s support; otherwise, how could I have won the scholarship so easily?” “It’s all your own talent. Some people…” “You at least know your own worth, and understand you’re not deserving of it.” Jessica retorted sarcastically.

Chloe, who had been interrupted, was now as angry as a dog with its tail stepped on. “Jessica, don’t bully her!” Jessica turned, bewildered, “Where’s that barking coming from? Aren’t pets banned in school?” The flatmate shrugged innocently. “I don’t know, maybe it’s a wild dog that crawled in from some hole.” Fuming, Chloe marched toward us, but Lily swiftly held her back. Rising from her seat, she took a few steps toward me, looking apologetic. “Sorry, she was just happy for me, she didn’t mean to offend you.” I finally lifted my eyelids to look at her, curling my lips into a mocking smile. “I understand, after all, she hasn’t seen much of the world.” Lily’s expression darkened a bit, but she maintained her smile. “They’ve booked a restaurant tonight to celebrate; if you’re free, you should join us. The more, the merrier!” “Sorry.” I looked away, brushing past Lily. My tone was nonchalant. “I’m not interested in dining with those who thrive on the misfortunes of others.” Lily’s smile vanished in an instant, her hands clenching at her sides. I didn’t look back at her. The scholarship incident continued to spiral, with everyone chattering about it. Some felt Lily didn’t deserve the award, claiming it was obtained through dubious means. Others believed I was too arrogant, dreaming big without the capability to back it up. For the first few days, the outrage against Lily was dominant; after all, people were capable of reasoning. But by the third day, the tide turned, and many began to shift their criticism onto me, spewing insults—it was clear there was more to this situation. On Friday, my tutor summoned me again. He opened his mouth, and there was nothing good to hear. “From now on, let Lily handle the project; you’ll be there to assist.” I was incredulous. It was one thing to steal my scholarship; now they wanted to take my project outcomes as well? “That’s not happening.” The tutor froze, his brows furrowed in disbelief. “What did you just say?” “I said it’s not happening.” I met his gaze, “Is there a word in that sentence you don’t understand?” “Sophie Carter!” “My work will not be given to her. If she lacks the ability, she shouldn’t come looking for me!” “You think I’m asking for your opinion? I’m just informing you!” “Fine.” I scoffed, “Then I’m out. If she’s involved, I’m not.” “You’re threatening me? You dare to threaten me?!” The tutor’s face turned pale with rage, his eyes bulging. “Sophie Carter, I thought you learned your lesson from last time, but it seems not. Do you think your threats will matter? I’m just informing you, not asking for your opinion!” His face was turning red, and he sneered, “You think the world is fair? Let me tell you, when you step into society, you’ll see this kind of unspoken rule everywhere!” I laughed coldly. “You’ve been involved in quite a few, haven’t you?” The tutor’s posture stiffened, and he retorted, “What nonsense are you spouting? I’m only here to relay orders from above!” I smirked, looking at him with unabashed contempt, speaking slowly and clearly. “Those who do evil will inevitably suffer.”

The tutor’s face twisted under my gaze, his forehead bulging with veins as he trembled with anger. I turned my gaze away, brushing off nonexistent dust from my clothes and straightening up as I headed for the door. Lily was more pleased than ever, having taken my scholarship and now my project outcomes. She was completely swollen with pride. Rumours about me circulated more widely; everyone was waiting for me to fail. As for me, I was keeping my distance, enjoying life as usual. With no classes in the afternoon, I joined my flatmates at a nearby café to pass the time. I don’t enjoy bitter things, so I just ordered a small cake. We were chatting happily when the bell above the door jingled, and a group of boys walked in. I looked up and met James Thornton’s gaze. His deep, dark eyes locked onto mine. After a moment of connection, he smirked slightly and made his way toward me. He was one of the school’s stars, excelling either academically, like me, or coming from an impressive family background, like James. Even though he was from the adjacent art school, his reputation had spread widely. It was said that wherever he appeared, there was always quite a stir; luckily, the café was relatively quiet at this hour. “Sophie, the academic star.” He casually pulled out a chair and sat across from me. My flatmates immediately lowered their heads, pretending to look at their phones while secretly straining to listen. “I heard someone’s stolen your scholarship.” James lifted his chin slightly, his tone laid-back. “Want me to have someone teach them a lesson?” Before I could respond, I felt a piercing gaze boring into me. I looked up to find Lily and Chloe standing at the entrance, glaring at me. “Perfect timing,” James quipped, raising an eyebrow. “James, what a coincidence! You’re here too!” Lily exclaimed as she walked in. James ignored her entirely, not even glancing in her direction, his dark eyes fixed solely on me. Seeing that I wasn’t responding, he clicked his tongue. “Boring.” With that, James stood up, preparing to leave. Lily hurriedly called out, “James, tonight…” “Not interested; I don’t want to go,” he cut her off, amusement evident in his eyes. Lily turned pale, tears welling in her eyes. James subtly furrowed his brow before straightening up, waving a hand dismissively as he said, “I’m off.” “James, wait for us! We haven’t even gotten our coffee yet…” one of the boys protested. James smacked the back of his head playfully. “You’re such a nuisance.” The boy retorted, “You were the one who insisted on coming to the café…” “Shut up, grab your coffee, and let’s go.” I caught a glimpse of James’s ears turning red, but before I could see more, Lily stepped in front of me, blocking my view. “Sophie Carter.” With her arms crossed, Lily had a haughty demeanor. “You should know your place; some people aren’t within your reach. Consider this a warning: don’t dream unrealistic dreams.”

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After five years of marriage, I finally gave birth to a daughter. The entire family was overjoyed. My mother-in-law, Margaret Johnson, was especially eager to help take care of my daughter, allowing me to focus on my career without any worries. Just as I was about to hand my daughter over to her, I suddenly heard a small voice. “Mummy, please don’t give me to that old lady! She’ll sell me!” I was stunned when I heard that voice. I looked around; the TV was off, and there were no other devices playing anything. Was it just my imagination? “Emily, what are you thinking? Hurry up and give the baby to me,” Margaret urged impatiently. My daughter, Lily, had just turned three months old. Ever since her arrival, the whole family had doted on her, and I had stayed by her side every moment. But now, my workplace was pressing me to return, and though I didn’t want to part with Lily, my mother-in-law volunteered to take care of her, so I could concentrate on advancing my career. With Margaret’s kind expression in front of me, I thought I must have been imagining things. As I prepared to hand my daughter over again, that small voice rang out once more. “Mummy! Don’t give her to that old woman! She’ll sell me as a child bride!” I jolted, quickly pulling my daughter close and watching Margaret warily. I had clearly heard that voice! Moreover, it sounded like my daughter’s thoughts? Though I wasn’t sure what was happening, I couldn’t take any chances! “Emily, what do you mean by this?” Margaret’s tone turned icy. “I’m just trying to help you out!” “Pah! Old woman, your so-called help is clearly just a scheme to sell me off to make room for your other grandson!” That innocent voice sent a chill down my spine. I struggled to compose myself and replied calmly, “Mum, I’ve thought about it. Lily is still very young and needs her mother around. I’ll have another word with my boss about work.” Margaret’s face stiffened for a moment before she forced a smile and said, “Look, work can’t be delayed! I can take care of my granddaughter, so you can focus on your career!” “Thanks for your kindness, Mum, but I’d prefer to stay with Lily a bit longer.” With that, I ignored Margaret’s displeased expression and retreated to my room. Once I locked the door, I placed Lily in her crib and softly asked, “Baby, Lily, was that you talking to Mummy just now?” Lily babbled away, waving her tiny hands and feet. I waited for a moment, but I didn’t hear that voice again. Sitting beside the crib, I tried to calm my racing thoughts. The voice I’d heard earlier claimed that Margaret wanted to sell Lily to make space for her other grandson. Margaret only had one son—my husband, Andrew. If she had another grandson out there, it meant that my husband… was cheating?

I met Andrew during our university days. At first, I didn’t like him and clearly rejected his advances, but he didn’t give up, pursuing me for two whole years. Eventually, I was touched by his persistence, and we entered a relationship. A year after graduating, we got married. After marriage, I longed for children, but Andrew insisted we were both in our career prime and that having a child would impact our work, so our intimacy was scarce, and whenever it did happen, precautions were taken. Then, about a year ago, one evening we both got a bit too tipsy, forgot to take precautions, and I ended up pregnant. I was thrilled! At first, Andrew seemed a little hesitant, but soon he was just as excited, buying toys and baby clothes, saying he couldn’t wait to meet our little miracle. Now that I thought about it, was it possible Andrew hadn’t wanted children because he already had a son elsewhere? “Darling, I’m back!” As I pondered this, I heard the sound of the door opening, followed by a knock. “Honey, are you in there? Why is the door locked?” I walked over, opened the door, and smiled, “I must have locked it without realising! What brought you home so early today?” “I’m lucky today, no late meetings, so I rushed back to see my beautiful wife and our precious daughter.” Andrew wrapped me in a big hug before walking over to the crib to gently lift Lily into his arms. “Hey, little one! Did you miss Daddy?” I stayed close, unwilling to let my guard down for even a moment. Lily waved her hands and feet energetically. “Don’t touch me with your dirty hands, you scoundrel! You horrible father! Pah!” I gasped in shock. The voice of my daughter returned! “What are you pretending to be, a good husband and father? Your other son is six years old! You come home late every day, saying it’s work, but you’re actually out with your mistress and your illegitimate son! Pah! I can’t stand to look at you!” At that moment, Lily suddenly closed her eyes, her tiny fists clenched tightly, as if exerting effort. I was still reeling from the previous words when Andrew suddenly exclaimed, “Ugh! She just peed on me!” I snapped back to reality, noticing Andrew’s face twisted in disgust and hatred. No normal father would look like that, even if a three-month-old baby had an accident on him. I held back my anger and heartbreak, taking Lily from him, saying, “I forgot to change her nappy earlier.” Andrew rushed out to clean himself up. As I changed Lily, I heard her voice again. “Mummy, you’re so pitiful. You’ve been kept in the dark for years. Your own daughter could have been sold off and suffered, and now you’ll have to take care of that mistress’s son! Once he’s grown, those beasts will work together to destroy you both! They’re living it up on our corpses…” My hands trembled uncontrollably. The weight of those words was overwhelming. But I forced myself to digest it all. From what I gathered from Lily’s thoughts, it seemed Margaret had pretended to want to help me care for Lily but actually aimed to sell her off in secret. And Andrew, while playing the perfect husband and father, had a mistress and even a six-year-old son. Six years! That meant he must have been involved with that mistress for at least seven years… Back when we were still deeply in love during university! The thought of how sweetly Andrew treated me back then made me feel nauseous. If I had unknowingly handed Lily over to Margaret, she would have surely tricked me into believing she’d lost her, leaving me heartbroken. Then Andrew would bring home his son from the affair, and find some excuse for me to adopt him. Knowing my own character, I understood well that in my grief over losing Lily, I would be vulnerable. If Andrew spun a tragic tale about that boy’s past, I would likely take him in and treat him as my own. No wonder Andrew had insisted on not having children all these years; he only didn’t want to have a child with me because he already had one outside! No wonder! At first, he seemed uninterested in this pregnancy, but later he acted as if he was eagerly anticipating the arrival of our child! At that time, he must have already started plotting all of this with my mother-in-law! Lily was his biological daughter too; how could he let go of her!

Just then, Andrew returned, looking freshly cleaned up. He spoke sweet words to me but didn’t dare to hold Lily again. I couldn’t help but smirk inwardly. It suited me just fine since Lily wasn’t keen on being held by him anyway. “Emily, Mum just told me you’re not planning to go back to work?” Andrew asked, frowning. “Why? Didn’t you say you’d sorted things with your company?” I replied lightly, “I just feel that Lily is still too young, and I can’t bear to leave her. I’ll spend more time with her, and if work becomes too much, I’ll step back.” The truth was, I came from a wealthy family with two rental properties and several commercial units. After university, I could have easily taken over the family business, but I enjoyed the feeling of forging my own path, so I’d continued working. Now, however, protecting my precious daughter was my top priority, and I would give those two no chance to take advantage of me! Andrew looked alarmed. “That’s not acceptable!” His words made him seem a bit overzealous, and he softened his tone. “You know my salary isn’t high. We’ve talked about giving Lily the best life, haven’t we?” I couldn’t help but chuckle internally. So he knew his salary wasn’t enough—he had relied on my income to support the family all these years! “So what? My parents have been wanting me to help them with rent collection for ages,” I replied nonchalantly. Andrew wanted to say more, but I feigned impatience. “Enough! I really don’t want to go back to work. I just want to stay with Lily. Don’t push it. Besides, Mum is getting older, and I really don’t trust her to take care of Lily. What if she takes her out and ‘accidentally’ loses her?” I could see a flicker of guilt flash across Andrew’s face. “What do you mean? That’s impossible…” “I was just saying it off the cuff! Let’s drop this topic.” At that, Andrew didn’t dare to press the issue further. That night, Andrew lay in bed, quickly falling asleep. I, however, was restless, unable to find any peace. This house felt increasingly unsafe. I refused to hand Lily over to Margaret while I went back to work; they would surely become anxious and might do something reckless. I decided I would take Lily back to my parents’ house in the morning. Just then, I heard soft footsteps at the door. I have always had keen hearing, which allowed me to pick it up. A chill ran down my spine, and I quickly closed my eyes, gripping my phone tightly in one hand while holding Lily securely in the other. With a soft creak, the bedroom door slowly opened.

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After I died, a humanoid robot took my place and stayed by my husband’s side. Edward didn’t notice anything strange about me. Every day, he spent time with his first love, Sophia, just to enjoy watching me suffer—longing, desperate, and hysterical. But a machine can’t mimic human emotions. It could only interpret my love for Edward as following a set of commands. It didn’t understand jealousy, nor could it feel anger. Until one day, Sophia pushed me off the balcony of the Penthouse. My metal frame twisted from the impact. Edward rushed over. For the first time, he was close enough to me, just one look away from realising something was wrong. A loud crash echoed through the room. Edward dropped his glass and rushed over. But when he saw me lying there, his worry quickly morphed into disgust. The one who pushed me, Sophia, stood at the top of the stairs, feigning tears as she began her act. “Edward, Emma reached out to push me, but she slipped and fell herself.” Edward didn’t spare me a glance, striding straight over to Sophia. “Are you all right, Sophia? You didn’t get hurt, did you?” He checked her thoroughly, and after confirming that not a single hair on his beloved’s head was out of place, he finally exhaled in relief. Then, in a show of rare condescension, he turned to look at me. I was sprawled on the floor in a terribly undignified position, motionless. “Emma Parker, you’re as stupid as you are cruel! Crawling around on the floor like a dog—what, did you think this would make me care about you? That I’d pay you some attention?” He’d clearly seen the slight dent in the floor where I’d landed, but there wasn’t even a hint of concern in his eyes. When I didn’t move, he shouted, irritated, “Stop playing dead! Do you think pretending will make me feel guilty? Get up and apologise to Sophia!” I heard his command, my head twitched slightly, but then I let it fall back down. Edward’s expression darkened. “Emma Parker, stop testing my patience! Apologise to Sophia, or I’ll personally have you thrown into a cell!” He stood over me, certain I’d obey as I always had. But I stayed down, motionless except for a faint twitch in my leg. Sophia, playing the part of a concerned friend, chimed in, “Edward, maybe you should check on her? What if something’s really wrong?” Despite her words, she remained clinging tightly to Edward, making no effort to move. Edward let out a cold laugh, indifferent. “She didn’t even cry out. She’ll be fine. It’s just the fifth floor, she’s not dead—maybe crippled at worst. And if anything has happened, well, she’s brought it on herself.” There was such venom in his voice, so much malice. If he could, I’m sure he would have been delighted to see me die right there. Unfortunately for him, he was bound to be disappointed. Because the one lying on the floor wasn’t the real me. It was just a humanoid robot, almost indistinguishable from the real thing. Of course, the machine didn’t scream in pain. It didn’t feel pain. And it couldn’t die. Though my soul was bound to the robot, I couldn’t control it. It was sophisticated enough to function on its own—it had only crashed due to the severe impact.

The system rebooted quickly. “You could drop dead, and I still wouldn’t feel like looking at you. No matter how much you act, I’ll never come down to help.” As Edward spat out those words, I slowly rose, though my right leg was grotesquely twisted. This odd movement only made him more certain I was putting on a performance, and he lifted his chin, satisfied with himself. Sophia gasped dramatically. “Edward, look at Emma’s leg—it looks so strange!” “She’s only broken a bone, that’s all. Dogs can break a leg and be fine in a few days. She’s hardly worse than an animal.” Edward’s remark made Sophia laugh, and she giggled uncontrollably. “Yes, and Emma has a knack for escaping death. You saved her after that lorry accident, and now she’s fallen from the penthouse without a scratch!” As she spoke, Edward’s face grew darker, his hatred for me barely contained. I knew he’d always regretted saving me. The day he sent Sophia off to study abroad, I learned for the first time that she was the one he couldn’t let go of. Distracted by the news, I hadn’t noticed the lorry speeding toward me. He acted on impulse, pushing me out of the way, but in the end, it was his legs that were crushed. For a professional ballroom dancer, losing your legs was worse than death. Every day after that, Edward’s resentment for me grew. “She’s no miracle survivor—she’s a bloody curse. First, she cost me my legs, and now she wants to take you away too!” His anger boiled over, and he kicked me hard in the leg. My already misshapen limb bent even further, emitting a faint crackling noise. Edward paused, suspicious, but the sound soon stopped. He composed himself again and barked, “Go and make some tea for Sophia to apologise.” I nodded obediently and hobbled to fetch the tea. Sophia turned her nose up as I approached, clinging to Edward’s arm like a spoiled child. “Edward, I don’t think Emma’s really sorry. She brought me cold tea, after all. I want it scalding hot.” I went back, prepared fresh tea, and brought it to her again. This time, she intentionally let go of the cup. “Oh no!” Even though the entire cup spilled onto my leg, it was Sophia who cried out in distress. “Edward, my leg! I think I’ve been burned!” Edward hurriedly rolled up her trouser leg, revealing nothing more than a faint red mark on her smooth skin. “Emma Parker, you did that on purpose, didn’t you?!” I stared blankly at the synthetic skin on my own leg, where the hot tea had scalded me, and muttered numbly, “It wasn’t on purpose.” Sophia, pretending not to hear, sobbed louder. “Emma, I know you don’t like me, but this is too much! You’re just jealous that Edward and I can still dance ballroom together, aren’t you? Fine, I won’t dance with him anymore.” Edward was fuming, desperate to console her, and in his rage, he slapped me hard across the face. “You spiteful woman! All you ever do is cause trouble! Now, clean up that mess from the floor with your tongue, and then give Sophia a proper apology.”

I used to be a proud woman. The only time I ever put my pride aside was when I knelt and begged that strange doctor, Dr. Vincent, to make prosthetic legs for Edward. I would’ve traded my life for it, without hesitation. If I were still alive, I’d have screamed at Edward, not caring about anything else. But the machine didn’t understand humiliation. To it, the command was just that—a command. It had inherited all my memories, and its core programming was to love Edward. So no matter what orders he gave, it would follow them without question. And right now, I was licking the spilled tea off the floor like a dog, utterly devoid of dignity. The machine couldn’t comprehend emotions. I thought that by obeying Edward, he would be satisfied. Maybe even happy. “Emma Parker, you’ve really surprised me.” His expression shifted to something more complicated, as though he wanted to take a closer look at my injuries. But just then, Sophia let out a feeble cry, collapsing softly into his arms. Edward scooped her up immediately and rushed her out. He was so close. If he’d only looked a little longer, he might have seen the faint glint of metal under my skin. After they left, I connected to a power source and entered standby mode. Staring at the burnt synthetic skin, I felt a rising sense of fear, even though I was already dead. I couldn’t help but think back to the day Dr. Vincent came to me. Edward had been in a rage, smashing everything in the hospital room, while I stood outside, hiding my tears in my hands. Normal prosthetics could let him walk again, but they’d never be as fluid as real legs. “I can make prosthetic legs as good as the real thing,” Dr. Vincent had told me, “but you’ll have to agree to be my test subject in exchange.” “I agree.” Vincent had looked at me, surprised by my quick response, and raised an eyebrow. “Think carefully before you answer. You’ll endure a lot of pain and die in the process. After you’re dead, I’ll replace you with a humanoid robot. That’s part of the experiment.” Edward had saved my life once. In return, I would give him back his legs. In my mind, that made us even. But even knowing what was to come, I hadn’t expected the experiment to be so brutal. To create an exact replica of me, Vincent had to remove the skin from different parts of my body, piece by piece, for testing. The final step was opening up my brain to create a memory chip. By the time I died, there wasn’t a single patch of skin on my body left unscathed. In my agony, I’d begged Dr. Vincent to make one last call to Edward. I just wanted to hear his voice one final time. But the call went unanswered, and Vincent—tired of my requests—told me that Edward had blocked my number. “I almost feel sorry for you.” Vincent had said, switching on a surveillance camera. The screen showed Edward carefully tending to the roses in the passenger seat of his car, smiling as he drove to the airport. Soon, Sophia appeared at the arrivals gate, and they embraced tightly. The people around them were cheering. “Kiss! Kiss!” Edward brushed a strand of hair away from Sophia’s face and kissed her passionately. Vincent turned to me and asked, “Do you regret giving up your life for his legs?”

The sharp ring of a phone broke through my thoughts. I unplugged the charging cable and answered almost immediately. “Emma, Sophia’s craving your chicken noodle soup. Make it and bring it to St. George’s Hospital now.” Edward barked the command and hung up before I could respond. I quickly prepared the soup and hailed a cab to the hospital. When I opened the door to Sophia’s private room, Edward was sitting by her bedside, gently stroking her shoulder, whispering soothing words until she drifted off to sleep. As soon as he saw me, his tender demeanor vanished. He carefully lowered Sophia’s head onto the pillow, then dragged me out into the hallway, his grip rough and angry. “Are you doing this on purpose, Emma? Taking your sweet time, knowing full well Sophia was waiting for you!” Without waiting for an answer, he opened the thermos, and before I could react, he dumped the soup straight into the rubbish bin. Edward’s face was like stone, his jaw clenched with the effort to contain his rage. He looked ready to lash out at me again, but the sound of crying from the room pulled his attention back to Sophia. He threw me one last furious glare and rushed back inside. “Edward, don’t worry about me. My kidney failure is getting worse… That’s why I left you all those years ago—to seek treatment abroad. But there’s been no donor. I’m dying… I just wanted to come home and see you one last time.” “It won’t come to that. Don’t say such things.” Edward gritted his teeth, his voice tight with the effort of reassurance. “You’re the one who found Dr. Vincent. Without you, I wouldn’t be able to walk, let alone dance. I owe you everything. I’ll donate my kidney to you. I won’t let you suffer.” I stood frozen. My mind couldn’t process what I’d just heard. It was me who had sacrificed everything to give Edward his legs back, not Sophia. Sophia glanced at me over Edward’s shoulder, a smug, taunting glimmer in her eyes as she wrapped herself more tightly around him. “Edward, I’ll never take your kidney. You need both to stay healthy, and if you only have one, you’ll never be able to dance again. But maybe Emma could give me hers? She doesn’t do much with her life. What’s the harm in losing a kidney?” Edward considered the suggestion and slowly turned toward me. “Emma, why don’t you give Sophia your kidney? I’ll be good to you. I’ll take care of you.” I shook my head and answered plainly, “I can’t.” To Edward, it must have seemed like I was being difficult, selfish. But in truth, I literally couldn’t donate my kidney. The body I was trapped in was full of wires and metal, not organs. Edward’s face twisted with fury, interpreting my refusal as cold indifference. “What do you mean you can’t? Are you really so heartless that you’d let her die? I can’t believe I ever saved someone as selfish as you.” He raised his voice, shouting, “I gave you your life back! You owe me this! You can’t just refuse!” Human emotions are messy and complicated, too complex for a machine to grasp. But as a robot, I could only repeat myself mechanically, “I can’t.” It wasn’t hard to see that Edward was on the verge of losing control. He glared at me, his voice dropping to an icy tone. “Fine, have it your way. But I’m telling you, Emma, you will donate that kidney.” The machine received his command. Despite how unnatural it seemed to comply, my programming—rooted in love and obedience—made me slowly nod in agreement. Edward’s anger melted into relief as he called for a doctor, watching eagerly as I was wheeled into surgery. He held Sophia close, his eyes gleaming with joy. “Sophia, we’ll be back to dancing together in no time.” But their joy didn’t last long. The surgeon emerged from the operating room, his face a mix of confusion and disbelief. “Are you having a laugh? This isn’t a person! It’s… It’s a machine!”

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