Category: English

I was picking up Carter from Windsor Elementary when I ran into Lily Whitman’s mom. Just as I was about to greet her, Carter jumped out in front of me, blocking my way. “This is our nanny. You don’t need to talk to her!” Then he turned to me and shouted, “You’re embarrassing! Don’t come to school looking like that!” I was furious when I got home and immediately complained to Nathan, but instead of support, he snapped at me. “Well, if both of you think I’m such an embarrassment, I’ll just spend all my time and money on beauty treatments and new clothes. Let’s see how that goes.” And as for being the “free nanny”? Whoever wants the job can have it. The very first day I stopped doing everything, Carter’s clothes weren’t washed, his homework wasn’t done, and he was late to school. My little prince went from being the class favorite to looking like a scruffy kid from the wrong side of town. Nathan stormed at me, “You’re making excuses to go to work and not even taking care of our son? Vivian, how can you be so selfish?” I calmly replied, “6.” Both Nathan and Carter were about to lose it.

When we got home from school, I sat on the couch with a cold expression. I didn’t cook dinner, didn’t clean, didn’t wash a single piece of clothing. Carter, as usual, didn’t think he’d done anything wrong. He expected everything to continue like normal. “Mom, I’m hungry! Hurry up and make dinner!” he demanded. I shot him a look and said, “Don’t call me Mom. I’m not your mom.” Carter’s face flushed with anger. I had promised him burgers and fried chicken after school, but after his performance at the school gate, those plans were gone. Earlier, I’d seen Carter chatting up Lily, laughing his head off like nothing else mattered. Next to Lily was her mom, Sophia Whitman, looking effortlessly stylish. I walked over, intending to greet her, but the second Carter saw me, his face dropped. He jumped right in front of me and cut me off, loudly proclaiming, “This is our nanny. You don’t need to talk to her!” He turned and yelled at me again, “You look so embarrassing. Don’t come to school looking like that!” It was pickup time, and other parents were passing by, giving me curious looks. Sophia Whitman’s face was full of surprise as she glanced at me with concern, slightly raising her brows. I looked down at my faded clothes. Between taking care of the house and family, I hadn’t had time to dress up. My ungrateful little brat had the nerve to be ashamed of me? But I wasn’t going to take it lying down. I slapped some sense into him, hard. Carter’s face turned beet red. I mumbled an apology to Sophia and walked away without looking back. Carter, in a panic, came running after me, wailing, knowing I was furious. He probably thought I wasn’t going to take him for fried chicken anymore. As if! I wasn’t going to give him anything. He could have looked like fried chicken for all I cared. Once we got home, Carter locked himself in his room and gave me a dirty look. I looked around at the dirty laundry and messy living room and sank deep into thought. It’s been seven years since I became a full-time mom. I gave up my job for Carter. Every little thing—meals, laundry, school, health—was all on me. But today, the way he acted made me realize all my efforts were for nothing. Why had I sacrificed so much? When I refused to make him dinner, Carter lost it completely. He threw himself on the floor and started screaming. “I wasn’t wrong! You don’t even have a job. What’s the difference between you and a nanny? I’m telling Dad!” To my shock, Nathan frowned when he heard the story, and his eyes were full of disappointment when he looked at me. “Why are you making a big deal over what a kid says? You promised him fried chicken today. No wonder Carter’s upset!”

“Nathan, are you serious?!” I couldn’t believe it. “Your son has serious issues, and when I try to teach him a lesson, somehow it’s my fault?” Nathan’s face showed nothing but annoyance. “Carter’s just a kid. What does he know? But you’ve let him go hungry this long? That’s on you.” Carter looked smug, glancing at me, while he whined to Nathan about wanting fried chicken. Before the two of them could head out, I yelled, “If either of you walks out that door today, I’m done with this house!” The only response I got was the slam of the door and the sound of their laughter fading down the street. I collapsed on the couch, tears running down my face. Seven years of my life, all for nothing. Every day, I’d wake up early, cook, clean, take care of Carter, and do all the household chores. My workload wasn’t any less than Nathan’s. But now, neither Nathan nor Carter appreciated me. Well, if they think I’m so embarrassing, I’m done. I’ll spend my time and money on self-care and clothes. Let’s see who misses me then. After making up my mind, I tossed Nathan’s stuff into the guest room. There was no way I was sleeping next to that man for another minute. I called up Bianca and we made dinner plans. Nathan took Carter out for fried chicken, so I wasn’t going to hold back either. After dinner, Bianca and I hit Rivercrest Shopping Mall. I had years of missed self-care to make up for!

The newest skincare set? Bought. Trendy clothes and bags? Yes, please! Gym membership, spa package—got them both! Bianca watched me spend money like water, her eyes wide in disbelief. “Vivian, aren’t you worried Nathan’s going to lose it?” I admired my purchases with satisfaction. “Who cares? I’m spending my own savings. He has no say in it!” I posted a picture of my shopping haul on Instagram to celebrate this new chapter of my life, but then I saw that Nathan had already posted something first. He’d tagged me, too, with a snarky caption: “Took Carter out for fried chicken. He says I’m his favorite!” In the picture, they were smiling, faces pressed together, in front of a table full of junk food. Typical. I rolled my eyes.

Every time I tried to discipline Carter, Nathan would play the good guy. So, despite me spending every day taking care of Carter, it was Nathan who Carter adored. I gave the post a sarcastic like and went to grab drinks with Bianca. We spent the evening mingling with some charming guys who kept calling us “ladies” in that flirtatious tone that made me feel young again. Dancing in the club released all the stress I’d built up during the day. Carter might still be young and need guidance, but as his mom, I couldn’t just abandon him. I’d have to rethink how I raised him. When I got home at 11 p.m., I was ready to make some changes in our dynamic. But instead of being in bed, the house was still brightly lit. Carter was up, playing with his toys in the living room, way past his bedtime. I always made sure he was asleep by 8 p.m. for school the next day, but here it was, 11 o’clock, and he was acting like it was the middle of the day! Furious, I roared, “Carter Summers! Do you have any idea what time it is? You’ve got school tomorrow!” Normally, Carter would have jumped into bed the moment I raised my voice, but tonight he actually had the nerve to shout back. “You’re the one who doesn’t keep your promises! Why do I have to listen to you? You just sit around at home all day, living off Dad’s money. You’re pathetic!” I stood there, stunned. This was the same child I’d devoted seven years of my life to, and now he was lashing out at me like this? The first time he’d said something hurtful, I thought it was just his age. But now, he was doing it on purpose. He meant every word. Tears stung my eyes. I couldn’t believe I had given up my career, everything, for this ungrateful child. I stormed over and yanked him off the floor. “Say that again! Who taught you to speak to me like that? WHO?!” My voice was shaking with despair. Carter glared at me with nothing but hate in his eyes. I shivered. He started sobbing, but his words stayed harsh. “You don’t do anything! My friends’ moms aren’t like you!” As he screamed, he kicked and punched at me, putting every ounce of strength into each blow. At that moment, I realized—he truly despised me. Nathan, finally noticing the chaos, stormed into the room and shoved me aside. “Vivian, are you out of your mind? Look at what you’re doing to him! He’s terrified!” He turned to Carter, “Don’t just stand there. Wash Carter’s clothes, pick up his toys, and get him to bed.” Both Nathan and Carter acted like they had every right to boss me around. I stood up, grabbed the dirty laundry, and threw it right in their faces. “I told you earlier—if you walked out that door, I was done. So, whoever wants to deal with this, go ahead!” Carter froze, unsure of what to do. I slapped him hard across the face. “You don’t want me to take care of you? Fine. From now on, you’re not my son!” Carter burst into uncontrollable tears. Ignoring him, I kicked a toy out of the way and walked toward my bedroom, leaving Nathan and Carter behind, too stunned to react. From that moment on, I swore I’d never do another thing for either of them. Not one. And with that decision, I felt lighter. After a long hot shower, I finally relaxed in bed. Just as I was drifting off, Nathan stormed into the room, eyes blazing with anger. “What the hell is wrong with you today? Is this because Bianca’s been egging you on again? How many times have I told you that woman is no good! Those fancy things you bought are probably her influence too! Return them all tomorrow!”

I was on the verge of sleep, but his rant brought me fully awake. He wanted a fight? Fine, I’d give him one. “I’m spending my own money. I can buy whatever I want. Who do you think you are to control me? Bianca’s got real men in her life—men you could never measure up to. And now you’re jealous? Pathetic.” Nathan’s face twisted with anger. I knew exactly what to say to hit him where it hurt. As his wife, I knew him better than anyone. He’d always been envious of Bianca’s success, trying to cozy up to her crowd, but they didn’t want anything to do with him. “You’re insane,” Nathan spat. “Sleep it off, you’re clearly out of your mind.” He stormed out of the room. I laughed to myself. He probably thought his silent treatment would terrify me. Little did he know, I was relishing the freedom of being alone. The next morning, I was woken up by Carter’s cries. When I checked the clock, it was already 8 a.m. Well, well, someone’s late. I stretched luxuriously in bed, savoring the fact that I didn’t have to rush out of bed to make breakfast for anyone. Carter had tripped over his toys and split his forehead open. He lay on the floor, clutching his head, wailing, expecting someone to come to his rescue. Nathan came stumbling out of the master bedroom, looking disheveled and clearly panicked by the scene. Carter ran into his arms, bawling, “Dad, I’m late! I’m going to lose points for being late!” Nathan was just as unprepared, having clearly just woken up himself. He never thought I’d actually stop taking care of Carter. Seeing me standing there watching the scene, Nathan snapped. “Why are you just standing there?! Go grab a band-aid! Can’t you see Carter’s hurt?” I yawned and glanced at them. “Oh, he’s got a scar now? Too bad. Guess it’s gonna leave a mark.” 7 Carter was always so conscious of his appearance, and now with a gash on his forehead, he was crying like the world had ended. Nathan saw I wasn’t going to help, so he started looking for the band-aids himself. After practically tearing the house apart, he still couldn’t find one. Frustrated and red-faced, he shouted, “Where the hell are the band-aids? You hid them, didn’t you?” I rolled my eyes. “If they’re right in front of you and you can’t see them, that’s on you. Don’t go blaming me because you’re blind.” Nathan was furious, looking like he might charge at me. But he quickly realized now wasn’t the time because Carter was really late for school. Carter attended Maplewood Academy, a private school where the other kids were from well-off families, all used to following the rules. Being late was practically unheard of. To make matters worse, Lily Whitman—the girl Carter liked—was the class’s discipline monitor. If he was late, she’d surely look down on him. Nathan hurriedly dressed Carter, who stood there looking helpless. “Where are my clothes?” Nathan asked. I barely glanced at him. Before, I’d always have freshly washed and ironed clothes neatly laid out on the sofa for him. But now, remembering all those times I tried to be the “perfect wife” made me want to slap myself. “They’re on my face,” I said sarcastically, as I turned on the TV and started my morning yoga. Nathan shot me a death glare, grabbed some mismatched clothes from wherever he could find them, and with his hair a mess, dragged Carter out the door. Neither of them had eaten breakfast, and Carter’s complaints about being hungry echoed down the hall as they left. Meanwhile, I leisurely ordered myself a deluxe breakfast delivery, completed my yoga session, and enjoyed my meal at a slow pace. Just as I finished, my phone started ringing. It was Ms. Valerie Harper, Carter’s teacher. I let the phone ring, then hung up. Carter wasn’t my problem anymore. Why should I care about his school issues? Ms. Harper was persistent though. After several missed calls, she sent a text. “Mrs. Summers, what is going on at your house today? Carter not only arrived late, but he didn’t wear his uniform. He looked filthy, like he hadn’t washed his face! And what’s more, he didn’t even do his homework! Is this how you raise your child? You need to come to school immediately!” I was tempted to ignore her, but knowing she wouldn’t let it go, I replied:

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My ex-boyfriend of four years showed up at the hotel where I work as a receptionist, with a woman in tow, asking for a room. The man had sharp features, with eyes as dark and deep as an abyss, exuding an air of aggression. He raised an eyebrow, his voice low and husky. “You have condoms in the rooms, right?” I smiled politely, my tone even. “I’m sorry, sir, but we don’t stock extra small sizes here.” Hidden behind the counter, I quietly slipped off my heels, feeling instant relief. After standing for most of the day, I only had ten more minutes before I could leave. Unfortunately, my moment of comfort was short-lived as guests entered the hotel lobby. I instinctively rose to my tiptoes, plastering on a smile. A tall, mature man in a dark shirt strode in. He had sharp features and cold eyes, with a suit jacket draped over his arm. As I watched him approach, I felt a sudden sense of déjà vu. Ethan Quinn, my college boyfriend of three years, whom I hadn’t seen since we broke up. Four years had passed, and the boyish charm was gone, replaced by a more mature demeanor. His once rebellious air had mellowed, making him appear even more sophisticated. He looked like quite the gentleman now. Beside Ethan was a woman with pale skin and a delicate frown that seemed designed to elicit sympathy. I couldn’t help but marvel at life’s unpredictability and the awkwardness of the situation. My ex-boyfriend was here to get a room with another woman, and I was still working the hotel front desk. Thankfully, there were three receptionists on duty. Please don’t look at me, please don’t look at me, please don’t… Just as I was fervently praying, Ethan’s gaze bypassed the other two receptionists and landed squarely on me. Damn it! His dark eyes, like deep whirlpools, bore into me with an intensity that felt even stronger than before. The Ethan I knew in college had been like a wolf cub, but now he resembled the alpha of a pack. He looked at me as if I were a shameless ex-wife who had run off with all his money, and he was the poor wronged husband here to catch me in the act. If I remember correctly, weren’t you the one who suggested we break up? Time seemed to stand still as Ethan’s gaze remained fixed on me. It wasn’t until the woman beside him noticed something was off and looked confused that Ethan finally shifted his gaze. He placed a card on the counter, his voice low. “One king room.” I maintained my professional smile and calmly processed their check-in. Ethan picked up his suit jacket and gently draped it over the woman’s shoulders, his movements smooth and practiced. I continued working, but found myself slightly distracted. In college, Ethan had been a germaphobe who disliked others touching his things. I had been the only one allowed free rein in his personal space. But that was four years ago. People change. Ethan used to hate wearing suits too. The only time he wore one was after I begged and cajoled him for an entire day. “Excuse me, could I see your ID please?” Ethan took out his ID and handed it over. As I took it, I instinctively ran my thumb over the back. There were faint scratches, and the photo was unchanged. It was still the same ID we had gotten together in college. I continued processing their check-in and handed over the key card. “Here you go, sir. Room 1087, the elevators are to your right. Enjoy your stay.” Ethan took the key card and passed it to the woman beside him, who headed towards the elevators. I silently willed this jerk to leave already, when Ethan raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curving into a mischievous smile, his gaze intense. “There are condoms in the room, right?” Hearing this, I almost lost my composure. I thought four years would have matured him, but it seems he was still the same scoundrel underneath that polished exterior. What an insufferable jerk. I smiled politely, my tone even. “I’m sorry sir, but we don’t stock extra small sizes here.” Ethan’s brow furrowed slightly, but his smirk grew wider. Oh, did I hit a nerve? He leaned in closer, his voice low. “If there aren’t any, how am I supposed to enjoy my stay, Miss Shaw?” Who cares if you enjoy it or not? Ethan shifted, about to leave, but then turned back, his finger tapping lightly on the counter. “As I recall, Miss Shaw used to be quite fond of my extra small size.” I suddenly had the urge to slap that smug look off his face. But remembering my job and my bonus, I held back. “Sir, my shift is over.” Please leave me alone. I gave him a slight smile and retreated to the break room.

“What? You ran into Ethan Quinn yesterday?” I locked the door and made a sound of affirmation. “How was it? How was it?” I got into the elevator and pressed my floor, switching the phone to my other hand. “How was what? He brought a beautiful woman to get a room. What else could there be?” It’s been four years. Even the sweetest memories fade with time. Lucy was about to say something else when she was interrupted by a baby’s cry. “Oh, hold on, Bella woke up. I need to go comfort her.” I shook my head with a smile and hung up. It only took 30 minutes to get from my place to the hotel, but it took all morning to mentally prepare myself for work. After forcing smiles for several groups of guests, I found myself wanting to quit this front desk job for the umpteenth time. Just as I was about to get a drink of water, the front desk phone rang. I cursed under my breath as I picked up. “Hello, thank you for calling the front desk. How may I assist you?” There was no response on the other end, just the sound of breathing. But somehow, I knew who it was. After half a minute, the caller finally spoke: “It’s me.” I inwardly scoffed but stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. Come on, what’s your move, jerk? Is it a wedding invitation or a kid’s birthday party? After two breaths of silence, the man spoke again, his tone slightly teasing. “I have a question.” Oh? “Don’t you have any bigger beds at your hotel? The one last time was too narrow for me to… maneuver.” Hah. I forced a professional smile, my voice sickeningly sweet. “I’m sorry sir, but all our king rooms have standard-sized beds. However…” He seemed very close to the phone, his breathing clearly audible. “If you turn left when leaving our hotel and walk about 500 meters, there’s a love hotel with very large beds. I’ve tried them myself. You can roll over three times while hugging someone.” His previously steady breathing hitched. I maintained a benevolent expression and promptly hung up. As expected, the phone rang again within seconds. Seeing the familiar number, I didn’t answer. My coworker asked, “Jenna, why aren’t you picking up the phone?” I replied, “Ex.” She made an “oh” sound and gave me a knowing look. When the phone started ringing for the third time, I finally answered leisurely. “Hello?” The man’s low voice was laced with anger. “Jenna Shaw.” What are you mad about? You can book rooms but I can’t have fun? “Oh, I forgot to mention. Mr. Quinn, I highly recommend the Sweet Ocean theme. The waterbed plus the mirrored ceiling…” This time, he was the one who hung up. I raised an eyebrow and put down the receiver, feeling like the day’s fatigue had melted away.

Ethan and I met in the spring semester of our freshman year. I was participating in a club activity, wearing an American-style cheerleader outfit and dancing to a girl group song on the basketball court. Ethan was surrounded by a group of guys, passing by in a large crowd. He had just lit a cigarette and looked up, catching sight of me in the midst of the crowd. That look in his eyes was hotter than the midsummer sun, seeming to burn right through me. When I finished dancing and was leaving, Ethan took a few strides to block my path. “Ethan Quinn.” I glanced at him sideways while tying up my hair. “Let’s be friends.” In the sunlight, Ethan’s eyes were half-closed, but he looked like a wolf crouching in tall grass, his gaze intense and filled with undisguised desire. I casually looked him over and turned my attention away. “Your cigarette smoke is bothering me.” With that, I tried to leave. Ethan stubbed out his cigarette with his fingertip and said, “I’ll quit.” I suddenly found it amusing, both his shamelessness and his empty promises. Why should I care if you quit smoking or not? But perhaps it was Ethan’s persistence, or maybe I found his wolfish gaze intriguing. A month later, I became friends with him. The kind of friends who could kiss. And we kept kissing for three years. Until he suddenly said we should break up.

It was a rare weekend off, and I decided to go shopping at the mall, browsing everything from snacks to lingerie. Even if I wasn’t buying, window shopping was harmless. As I picked up a purple bra, someone stood beside me, bringing with them an unfamiliar but faint scent of men’s cologne. The presence, however, was frustratingly familiar. A hand with well-defined knuckles picked up the black version and placed it at the front of the rack. “Black looks better.” The tone was casual, completely shameless. There’s really something to that saying about exes being like ghosts that won’t leave you alone. Without turning around, I smiled and said, “I’ll pass. He prefers me in purple.” With that, I finally turned to admire his sullen face. Ethan’s features were deep-set, but his facial lines were hard, making him look a bit fierce. But I wasn’t intimidated by him at all. I gave him a quick glance and then went to the men’s section, picking up a pair of underwear and smiling as I beckoned him over. Ethan’s face was as dark as if he’d just committed murder, but he obediently walked over. I showed him the underwear and asked sweetly, “Is this your size?” Ethan raised an eyebrow slightly, the corner of his mouth curving upward. “What about it?” I smiled slyly. “Oh nothing. If this is your size, I’ll need to buy one size larger. My boyfriend is a bit bigger than you.” Seeing Ethan so agitated that he was about to lose his mature man composure and have a sudden attack, I left satisfied. And I put down the underwear I was holding. But when I was checking out, Ethan sidled up to me again. As expected. In college, he was always like this. Though back then he at least knew how to play hard to get and keep me guessing. Now that he’s older, he seems more impatient and can’t hold back. Ethan’s fingers were long and graceful. Back when we held hands, they could completely envelop mine. He took out a card and handed it to the cashier. “I’ll pay for what she wants.” I looked at him, suddenly finding it a bit amusing. The once impulsive and passionate boy had become a successful businessman. The contrast was quite stark. But my mischievous heart couldn’t resist. I turned to him with a smile. “Wow, Mr. Quinn, you’re so kind. In that case, could you also pay for my boyfriend’s underwear?” Ethan’s face, which had just relaxed a bit, darkened again. “In your dreams.”

To avoid being responsible for Ethan’s potential heart attack, I didn’t actually make him buy the underwear. I did let him pay for my two sets though, considering it compensation for his recent harassment. But I really didn’t expect to see this sucker at the gym the next day. Geez. It really is fate. I also suspected that Ethan might be stalking me. But since he wasn’t being too excessive and was even willingly spending money on me, I decided not to make a fuss about our past relationship. Ethan was wearing a black T-shirt, sweat beading on his forehead. As he tilted his head back to drink water, his Adam’s apple bobbed, his whole body exuding male pheromones. Four years later, he still liked wearing black. I swiped my card and walked in. Ethan wiped his forehead with his hand, sweat rolling down his straight nose, his profile sharp and resolute. He grabbed the hem of his shirt with one hand and pulled it off, revealing smooth muscle lines. His abs rose and fell with each breath. Ethan rested his elbow on a machine, using his T-shirt to wipe away sweat with his other hand. He had a tattoo in ink-wash style on his right shoulder. The bamboo leaves were subtle yet snake-like, cool enough to make anyone whistle at the sight. But faint, twisted scars could be seen beneath the tattoo. The tattoo wasn’t there when we broke up, and neither was the scar. Taking off your shirt at the gym was quite improper, but no one went to stop him. Occasionally, women’s gazes would land on him. Undeniably, Ethan’s handsome face and body were killer. In just a moment, some people had even taken out their phones. Was Ethan the type of man to take off his clothes for no reason? He wasn’t. I inwardly scoffed and headed to the changing room with my bag. Since college, I’ve always had the habit of working out, even after starting work. But I usually wore a full sports T-shirt. This time, I tied up my hair and came out wearing just a sports bra and tight leggings. My slender waist led down to a round, perky butt, and my chest wasn’t bad either. I’ve always known that my figure and looks were outstanding. Otherwise, Ethan wouldn’t have noticed me at first glance in college, and I wouldn’t have been hired as a hotel receptionist after just a 30-second interview. As soon as I came out, I felt gazes landing on me, one particularly scorching. I didn’t care at all and went straight to the squat machine to start doing squats. My long, straight legs stepped onto the machine, then slowly squatted down. The elastic pants stretched taut, perfectly showcasing my curves. When I squatted down, a bit of cleavage was also revealed. Before I could start my third rep, a T-shirt was thrown over my head. I took the shirt off and saw Ethan with tense muscles and an unhappy face. He gritted his teeth and said, “You win, Jenna Shaw.” The shirt was clean and smelled of fresh laundry detergent. I raised an eyebrow and put on the T-shirt without protest, no longer taunting him. He glanced at my legs. “Change your pants too.” I knew Ethan wasn’t some macho guy trying to control what I wear. Today, he was purely angry because I was deliberately showing off to provoke him. “This is the only pair I have.” I lied through my teeth without blushing or my heart racing. Ethan looked at me for a moment, then threw down a “wait here” before putting on his shirt and leaving. Hah, as if I’d really wait. I grabbed my bag and left, giving my perfect body a day off.

Early the next morning, I grudgingly went to work again. There was a company dinner tonight that the boss was hosting. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get out of it. The boss brought along an even sleazier-looking executive. The two of them sitting together was quite an unsightly scene. I sat to the side, quietly sipping my drink. The atmosphere was lively when suddenly I heard someone call my name. I looked up to see the boss beckoning me over. A bad feeling instinctively arose. I smiled, grabbed my purse, and sat down next to them. After toasting a glass of wine, the unfamiliar sleazy executive’s vile hand landed on my thigh, attempting to grope further inward. In my two years working at the hotel, I’d encountered this kind of thing many times, big and small. I was no longer the girl from a few years ago who would only know how to cry when scared. Just as I was considering whether to slap him directly or take out the pepper spray from my bag and spray this old creep to death, someone grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. In the dim light, the man’s brows were slightly furrowed, his expression dark and unclear, but his aura was inexplicably intimidating. Ethan picked up a glass of wine from the table and poured it over the man’s face. The boss, probably experiencing this kind of disrespect for the first time, looked angry and was about to pour it back. Ethan let out a cold laugh. “Try it.” “If you dare move, I can’t guarantee you’ll keep that hand.” After saying this, he took off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders. I pulled the jacket tighter, feeling a bit relieved in my heart, marveling that after four years of societal tempering, Ethan had finally learned not to stupidly smash a wine bottle on his own head. He also wouldn’t impulsively resort to violence, but rather use his intimidating presence to subdue people. Indeed, a mature man was steady and gave a sense of security. As I was thinking this, I allowed Ethan to lead me out of the restaurant and into his car. He sat silently in the car for three seconds, glanced at me, said “wait here,” and suddenly got out of the car. Before leaving, he even locked the car doors. After a while, I watched Ethan stride back, open the door, and get into the car. He unbuttoned his collar and loosened his tie, his face still showing traces of anger. But for some reason, I liked seeing him lose his composure like this. I smiled and asked, “What did you go do?” Ethan’s hand gripping the steering wheel had bulging veins. He looked straight ahead and said calmly, “Taught him a lesson.” I smiled, my eyes curving. “I thought after not seeing you for a few years, you’d matured.” Ethan flashed a wicked grin and casually threw out a lewd comment. “Well, there is a part of me that’s matured. Want to try it out?” Who’s afraid of who? Maybe it was the effect of the alcohol, but I suddenly had the urge to be naughty. “Sure.” I smiled wider, my hand crawling up his suit pants. “Let’s try it out.” “Let’s see… just how mature it’s become.” Looking at his ear tip, I gently blew a breath. Thinking back to a friend’s gathering in our sophomore year, Ethan and I went to a karaoke place to meet up. When we got to the main hall, I wanted bubble tea and insisted he go buy some for me nearby. Unexpectedly, after he left, I was dragged by a group of men to their private room. I was only nineteen at the time and didn’t even dare to call the police. Later, I couldn’t remember how Ethan found me. I only remember that those men were about to force alcohol down my throat. Ethan burst in and snatched away the wine glass, smashing it on the ground. Everyone in the room stood up at once.

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After an argument with my mother-in-law, Marlene Hughes, she climbed up to the rooftop, threatening to jump. When the firefighters managed to get her down, I could barely feel my legs. Before Alex and his sister, Candace, could even find a reason to blame me, I beat them to it: I told Alex I wanted a divorce. It was only a marriage, after all. I wasn’t about to let it turn into a prison sentence. After walking the firefighter out, I took a moment to gather myself. The crowd of neighbors lingering by the building hadn’t dispersed, huddling and muttering to each other. When they saw me, they turned away, avoiding eye contact. But I couldn’t care less about them now. The sight of Marlene, swinging unsteadily on the rooftop railing, was stuck on a loop in my mind. I knew I’d never forget it. The firefighter had tried to comfort me, saying, “It’s tough keeping the peace, but it’s worth it. Just try to be a bit more patient, especially with older folks—they don’t always mean what they say. You know she’d never actually jump, but all this back-and-forth is hard on everyone. Even if they’re just trying to get their way, it’s exhausting.” I thanked him. He reminded me that although Marlene hadn’t actually jumped, the fact that she went up there was enough for me to be blamed as the daughter-in-law who “pushed her to it.” If I didn’t leave now, she’d always hold that over me. And if she figured out that she could keep pulling stunts like this every time things didn’t go her way, what would I do then? It was better to cut my losses now. I couldn’t play her game anymore. Back in the apartment, Candace was sitting with Marlene, comforting her as she cried in the master bedroom. Alex had rushed home from work and was sitting on the sofa, looking dazed and not quite processing it all. Carol, our nanny, was standing on the balcony with Chloe, looking over at me with worried eyes. I silently thanked her—at least I didn’t have to worry about Chloe while everything else was in chaos. I went into the kitchen, poured myself a glass of water, and tried to gather my thoughts. When I felt steady enough, I sat next to Alex on the couch. He looked at me with a frown. “What happened here? I wasn’t gone an hour, and this is what I come back to? Couldn’t you have just let things go with my mom?” “Let it go?” I’d heard that phrase so many times over the past two weeks. I thought I’d “let it go” more times than anyone could ask, but for Alex, it was never enough. How much more did he expect me to give? And still, after everything, Marlene would pull this life-or-death routine. If I kept “letting it go,” there’d be nothing left of me. “Alex, I think we should get a divorce.” I tried to keep my voice calm. Fighting about who had it worse, me or his mom, was pointless. “A divorce? Because I called you out?” he shot back. “You pushed my mom to the point where she tried to jump, and I can’t even say something? Grace Miller, how did I not realize how irrational you could be? Or are you just using divorce to threaten me now?” Two sentences from Alex, and my blood was already boiling. I took a deep breath to suppress my need to argue. “I’m not threatening you.” “Look, by your own account, I pushed your mother to the edge. How would it look if you didn’t leave me over that? You only get one mother, Alex. If you chose me over her, even I’d lose respect for you.” Alex’s eyes were full of fury, and he laughed bitterly, nodding. “So you want a divorce? Fine. I’ll give it to you.” We agreed to meet at Family Court the next day. “Your mom probably doesn’t want to see me right now, so I’ll go stay at my mom’s place with Chloe,” I told him. I packed Chloe’s things, and Carol and I left. When I opened the door at my mom’s, she thought it was Dad and called out from the kitchen, “Hey, grab some cooking oil on your way up. We’re all out.” When she saw me, she looked surprised. “Didn’t know you’d be home for dinner. Where’s Alex?” “Mom, I’m just here for a while,” I said, trying to hold it together. “Well, then, I’ll defrost some ribs and make that sweet-and-sour pork you like.” I managed to smile and nod. But as soon as I was alone in my old room, the tears hit. I buried my head under the covers and let it all out, sobbing until I had no tears left. My life had always been steady and peaceful—except for childbirth, I’d never known anything as terrifying as this. The rooftop crowd had watched as I begged Marlene to come down, paralyzed by fear. Even though I couldn’t stand her, I never wanted her dead. I never wanted anyone dead. 2： Once I’d calmed down, I came out, and Dad was already home. From the look on his face, Carol had probably filled him in. He pointed at the table, suggesting we eat first and talk later. Once we finished, Carol excused herself, taking Chloe downstairs for a walk. “What happened between you and Marlene that she’d pull a stunt like this?” Dad asked. “Alex should be asking his mother that too,” Mom said, sighing. She looked worn out, and so did the ribs, charred beyond recognition. “Nothing unusual,” I replied. “Same things as always.” Marlene had come from Richmond two weeks ago, and after a couple of polite days, the conflicts started. Marlene complained that the guest bedroom was too cramped and gave her nightmares. I knew what she meant—she wanted to move into the master bedroom. I refused, so every night she’d start screaming, leaving my heart racing. Worse, Chloe—my little angel who usually slept right through the night after her 4 a.m. bottle—was waking up screaming too. For Chloe’s sake, I gave in, letting Marlene have the master bedroom while Alex and I moved into the guest room. I could have ignored her sloppy eating habits, her habit of leaving the bathroom door open, or her roaming the living room in just her robe after a shower. But she treated Carol, who was hired just to help with Chloe, like a servant. Marlene demanded leg massages and chided her for not doing enough, claiming, “We pay you to work, not to lounge around.” We fought over it, and I tried explaining to Alex. Marlene eventually stopped making demands of Carol but switched to criticizing her, saying she wasn’t good with Chloe, pushing her aside to use outdated, unsanitary parenting techniques. When it came to my daughter, I put my foot down, but Alex just asked me to tolerate his mom’s behavior a little longer. “She’ll go home soon. Just hang in there,” he’d say. I tried to hold on, but last night, I overheard her telling Candace over the phone how comfortable she was, and Candace replied, “Stay as long as you want. It’s your son’s house; it’s your house too.” So today, I finally asked her when she planned on going home. After all, Robert was there by himself. She accused me of wanting her gone, and the argument blew up. I listed all the ways she’d crossed boundaries, reminding her this was my home, not hers. At first, she just sat and wailed. I left to use the bathroom, and when I came out, she was gone. Then I heard the fire department had been called, and I saw her, perched on the rooftop railing. I was numb as I begged her to come down, telling her it was all my fault, mindlessly saying I was wrong. She ignored me, crying that I was an ungrateful daughter-in-law trying to kick her out. She only came down when Candace and Alex arrived. When she tearfully declared herself a burden, saying it’d be better if she was gone, I nearly believed her act. If I wasn’t in the middle of it, I would’ve thought I was a terrible daughter-in-law, with a useless husband. My parents were silent for a while after I explained everything. “Why couldn’t you hold your tongue one more day?” Mom sighed. “What are you going to do now?” Dad asked. “Alex and I are getting a divorce tomorrow,” I said. “I’m not about to carry the burden if she jumps next time.” “Is divorce the only way?” Mom asked, trying to talk me down. “You could live separately and avoid the conflicts.” “Can I avoid her forever?” I replied. “She’s his mother.” I smiled bitterly, thinking about how naive I’d been when I married Alex. My family had warned me about our differences, and my uncle bluntly told me his parents would be a problem. But I thought Alex and I could make our own lives in San Diego, separate from his family back in Richmond. I hadn’t realized how differently men and women see marriage. To women, marriage means forming a new, independent family. But men—especially men like Alex—see marriage as adding another member to the family they already have. If you start with that fundamental difference, how can you grow old together? “Divorce might be the best option,” Dad finally said, supporting me. “No point getting tangled up with people who only wear you down. You can do your best, but in a house like that, it’ll never be enough. Divorce is the right call.” With that “ungrateful daughter-in-law” label, even if I tried my hardest, nothing would ever be enough. Even if I held out, would I want Chloe to live a life filled with silent resentment? I had to leave. That night, I lay beside Chloe, her little body warm and soft as a cloud beside me. I was all she had now. “It’s alright, sweetheart. We’ll be fine. We’ve got Carol with us, and you’re used to things being this way, aren’t you?” 3： When I went to finalize the divorce, Candace was already there, glaring at me with a look of pure disdain. She must have been planning to give me a piece of her mind since yesterday, but maybe she hadn’t expected me to push for divorce so decisively. She wouldn’t have many more chances to accuse me of her mother’s near-death attempt, so while Alex and I were drafting our agreement, she loudly announced to everyone within earshot, “This is the daughter-in-law who pushed her mother-in-law to suicide.” I kept quiet, accepting the blame she wanted to pin on me. We didn’t have many financial ties—our apartment was in his name, with his down payment, and while I’d helped with a few mortgage payments, I wasn’t going to fight for that money. I just wanted the divorce finalized quickly. The car was mine, a gift from my family when we got married, so I planned to take it with me. “What makes you think you can keep the car?” Candace snapped. “My family paid the wedding dowry and blessing fee, not to mention the wedding costs. Return everything, or don’t even think of leaving with the car!” “Well, the appliances are all mine—about ten grand’s worth,” I replied calmly, looking at Alex. “That should offset the blessing fee and the dowry, don’t you think?” Alex and I had married for love, so I hadn’t made any issues over the dowry. But I never expected they’d throw that money back in my face during the divorce. “And as for the wedding costs,” I continued, “most of the gifts from friends and coworkers went to your mom. You know how generous they were, and I’ll be the one paying those favors back when the time comes. I think that means the money doesn’t belong to you, right?” “No, it doesn’t,” Alex interjected. “For the furniture, I’ll give you $5,000 to offset it.” He wasn’t a terrible person, and for that, I felt a bit better. At least I hadn’t completely failed in this marriage. Candace glared at Alex, muttering, “She said she didn’t need it, and you’re still giving it to her? You’re a fool! After what she did to Mom, she doesn’t deserve anything.” “As for child support, whatever you think is right,” I told Alex, “but if you don’t, I can take care of her alone.” I already suspected Marlene didn’t care much for Chloe since she wasn’t a boy, but I had decided long ago I would only have one child. Now, I wanted Chloe to take my last name. If Alex chose not to pay child support, that would only make it easier for me. “I’ll pay child support,” Alex said with a weary expression. He looked as though he hadn’t slept at all. Maybe he hadn’t expected things to end this way. I had brought up the divorce first, and with everything that had happened, he couldn’t really argue against it. After all, he was the dutiful son. We agreed on a monthly child support amount of $3,000. Alex made a six-figure salary, so it was just about the minimum, though Candace was still grumbling about “overpaying for a little girl.” It never occurred to her that she was also “a little girl” once. Finally, at the courthouse, the clerk followed standard protocol and tried to counsel us one last time. Candace, meanwhile, announced to the entire room, “This woman forced her mother-in-law to suicide. No one would want a daughter-in-law like her!” “Do us a favor and just stamp the papers. Our family can’t afford this kind of burden. Any longer and we’d be ruined.” Red paper exchanged for red paper—marriage to divorce. Relationships are so fragile. Just a new, shiny cover and there’s nothing left. For a brief moment, Alex and I shared a feeling of sadness. After all, neither of us got married thinking we’d end up here. Alex looked at me, close to tears. “Grace…” Just the night before, we’d been laughing and planning a weekend with Chloe at a resort. How did we get here? “I’ll come by tomorrow to pack up my things. Make sure your family isn’t there,” I said, turning away so he wouldn’t see my resolve wavering. “I think it’s better if your mother and I don’t see each other again.” Hesitation only prolongs the pain. Better to get the divorce done and endure Candace’s shouting in court, rather than sit at home listening to it, knowing it would never end. The next day, I went to get my belongings. Marlene and Candace were gone; only Alex was there. After a few days, it seemed he had come to terms with everything. “Grace, I know it’s not all your fault that my mom tried to jump. I know you wouldn’t have said something that hurtful.” “So you knew she wasn’t being kind,” I replied. He looked away, and for the first time, I felt relieved. I began packing. When I’d given Marlene the master bedroom, I hadn’t brought over much, just a few essentials. Now, as I looked through my closet, I noticed that my designer bags were gone. Anything without a designer label had its straps slashed or fabric ripped. My favorite clothes were thrown in a heap, some with visible tears. Alex looked like he wanted to say something. “It’s alright. She was angry. This is how she needed to let it out,” I said, forcing a smile. No point in arguing now. I could only be grateful that I was out of this situation for good. When I opened my jewelry box, all my gold pieces were missing, with only a few silver and cubic zirconia items left—the kind Marlene probably didn’t care about. Alex tried calling her, saying it was too much. “Don’t,” I told him. “I don’t even wear gold jewelry much. Besides, most of it was your family’s Bridal Keepsakes anyway. It makes sense to give them back after the divorce.” “That was mine, though,” Alex said softly. When we got married, his mom had gifted me three pieces of old jewelry as the keepsakes, but Alex wasn’t happy with that. At the time, he had just bought this apartment, so he had little left, but he’d saved up to buy me a new set himself, saying I deserved what everyone else had. But he’d also said, “If other wives can tolerate their mothers-in-law, why can’t you?” I shook my head. What’s the point? The marriage was over. In the end, I didn’t take much with me. As I left, I set the keys on the entryway table, removed the door code from my memory, and asked Cypress Property Management to update my contact details. I was done with that house. After all that commotion a few days ago, returning today for the divorce would surely make me the talk of Maplewood Court Apartments for a while. But I was past caring. 4： About a month after the divorce, I started receiving mysterious packages. Each one contained something familiar—a brand-new version of a bag or outfit I used to own. At first, I didn’t know who was sending them, so I kept them unopened at the office. By the third package, I had a hunch: Alex was behind it. I called him, cutting straight to the point. “What are you trying to do?” “Aren’t these the things you liked?” he replied, his voice casual. “I looked through some old photos and tried to find replacements for the stuff you lost. You never told me your things got ruined. I had no idea they cost so much.” “Alex, do you remember that we’re divorced?” I took a steadying breath. “You don’t need to spend money on me anymore.” “It’s not about spending money—it’s compensation,” he said quickly. “Don’t refuse it; these were your things, and if someone ruined them, they should be replaced.” “What are you thinking, really?” I asked. I couldn’t understand him. He’d barely said anything during the divorce; it didn’t make sense that he’d be having regrets now. “I just… I just want to make it up to you,” he admitted, his words scattered. He’d been doing a lot of thinking, realizing that maybe I hadn’t gained anything from our marriage. He still cared, and he hadn’t wanted to hurt me. “If we hadn’t divorced, you wouldn’t be saying any of this,” I told him bluntly. If we’d stayed married, Marlene would still be in our home, and I’d still be stuck with her stunts, torn between guilt and frustration. I’d have been forced to tolerate her behavior for some time, but eventually, I would’ve broken down. In that case, Alex would be caught in the middle again, struggling to please us both and most likely saying all the wrong things. “Alex, I never asked you to choose between me and your mom. I know how important she is to you. I let you go for a reason, so please, let me go in peace.” “Don’t send me anything else. I’ll just send it back,” I said firmly. Later, I heard from Megan that Marlene was pushing Alex to go on blind dates, and when he resisted, she moved one of the girls right into his apartment, eventually driving Alex to request a longer assignment out of town. Apparently, Marlene was pushing him to marry because she’d discovered that Robert was involved with someone else. That’s why she’d left Richmond and moved into her son’s home. She wouldn’t leave Robert herself but had no problem breaking up her son’s marriage. This only made Robert more comfortable staying out of the house with Becky, his mistress. Megan, a close friend of ours, shared this with me one day over coffee. Her husband grew up near Alex in Richmond, and their families were always in the loop. “I honestly admire how quickly you went through with the divorce,” Megan said. When I’d first told her about it, she’d worried that I was being too hasty, but now she saw it differently. “Some people aren’t happy until everyone around them is just as miserable.” Megan shook her head. “Living with someone like that would make me lose it in a few days. Poor Alex, though. My husband ran into him at the station last week—he looks so thin he’s practically unrecognizable.” “More work means more pay,” I replied, trying to sound indifferent. Whether I still cared or even still loved him didn’t matter. As long as Marlene was around, there would be no happiness for us. No one should stumble over the same stone twice. So I wasn’t expecting Candace to come knocking one day, asking me to take Alex back. She looked drained—stuck dealing with Marlene now that Alex had fled town. That couldn’t have been easy. She tried to appeal to my sympathy, asking about Chloe. “Babies grow so quickly. Every month, it’s like they’re completely different. Alex still has your photo on his phone screen. Maybe you could give him one more chance?” “What could he possibly miss about a daughter-in-law who supposedly ruined his family?” I asked, unamused. She squirmed a little before saying, “He’s in his prime, with a stable job, a car, and a house. He could find anyone he wanted, someone younger, to settle down and give him a son.” I threw her own words back at her. Her expression shifted, realizing her attempts weren’t landing. “It was all just misunderstandings. I was speaking in anger, and when things get heated, you say things you don’t mean. You need to see things from our side too. She was just in a bad place, and none of this was supposed to get so extreme.” Candace had always been pushy, intruding into our lives from the day I married Alex. Although Marlene had caused our biggest problems, Candace wasn’t far behind in setting the standard for how controlling in-laws could be. “Isn’t there still a woman living at Alex’s place? It seems a little inappropriate to be here asking me for a second chance,” I said, smiling. She clearly hadn’t expected me to know this much. Candace let out a heavy sigh, switching to complaints. “Mom has lost it. That woman doesn’t even have a diploma—she’s nothing compared to you. Alex has no interest in her, but Mom dragged her into his place, pays for everything, and even supports her family.” “Whether she’s good enough or not doesn’t matter as long as your mom is happy, right?” I said, seeing right through her. I had no interest in entertaining her requests. If she truly cared about her brother’s happiness, she could start by finding him someone new. I didn’t know if she’d find anyone suitable. Not long after, I heard that Marlene had pulled another rooftop stunt. This time, she’d been berating Candace, calling her ungrateful for trying to drive her beloved mother out. Candace had reportedly been in tears, begging her mother to stop. “If you don’t leave, my marriage is over!” “Well, you’d better make some room up here. I’ll join you. What’s the point in living if my own kids won’t even let me stay with them?” While Alex was away, Marlene had been calling on Candace’s husband for help with errands. Over time, they’d grown close, and now Candace’s husband had been caught having an affair with Marlene’s new “house guest.” Candace was livid when she found out. This woman wasn’t leaving without a fight. And just to ensure her exit would be a grand finale, she claimed she was pregnant with Candace’s husband’s child, demanding a large settlement before she’d go. Megan told me Alex had come back and that he’d ended up paying the woman off himself. “Can you believe it? His mom’s the one who brought her around, his brother-in-law’s the one who slept with her, and somehow the whole mess falls on Alex’s shoulders.” “His sister blames her brother, not her husband, and the minute her mom calls her out, she uses it as a chance to cut ties with her family, saying she won’t be back,” Megan said, shaking her head. “It’s like Alex is the one left holding the bag for everyone.” “That’s how it is for him. He can’t say a bad word about his mom or his sister,” I replied. “In all the time we were together, he never criticized them once. I wouldn’t have been so naive about them if he’d just been honest.” “Not that it matters, but my husband thought about introducing Alex to someone new. Honestly, though, that would be like leading someone straight into a trap,” Megan said with her usual bluntness. “Anyone who ends up with that family would be in for a nightmare.” “What about his dad? Wasn’t he any help?” I asked. Marlene and Robert were still married, after all. It seemed strange that Alex should carry all the responsibility. “Oh, his dad only made things worse,” Megan replied. “You know the money Marlene’s friend walked away with? Well, somehow word got out back home, and Robert’s girlfriend threw a fit and started demanding her own payout.” I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it. “Does Robert even have any money to give her? He’s lived off everyone else his whole life.” “Exactly,” Megan said. “First, it was his parents, then Marlene, and now it’s Alex’s turn. Robert has no money of his own, so he just called up Alex and demanded fifty grand, like it was nothing.” “Funny how people who don’t make money are the quickest to spend it,” I sighed. “Alex used to send him around two thousand every month, and still it wasn’t enough. Whenever they needed something, they’d just call Alex to cover it. I never complained about him helping his parents. After all, supporting our parents is a responsibility.” I used to send money to my own parents too, though they’d refused to take it. They still worked and knew that I had a family of my own to support. That’s when I realized—not everyone’s parents are willing to make sacrifices for their kids. It’s a roll of the dice. “Think Alex will actually hand over that fifty thousand?” Megan asked, worried. She didn’t want him to keep enabling their demands and ruin his own life in the process. I wasn’t sure. But it made me think about Chloe’s future. What if Alex turned into a sad, needy old man someday? Would she feel obligated to support him? After the divorce, Alex’s attention to Chloe had noticeably improved. He added Carol on social media, checked in on Chloe every day, and even video-called with her when he could. He’d started sending clothes, toys, snacks—everything she could need or want. Mom once said, “Whatever happened between you two, Chloe’s still his daughter. And if he wants to be involved, let him.” And she was right. Chloe deserved to know her dad, and I had no intention of standing in the way of that.

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I drowned alongside my sister. Our parents chose to save her, leaving me to die. When I woke up again, I had been reborn into the body of Jane Johnson, another girl who had nearly drowned. I thought our paths would never cross again, but on the first day of college, I saw my sister once more. She bragged about how her parents loved her so much they abandoned her sister. Her sister’s existence was merely to make her look better in comparison. She knew how to swim all along, and her parents were aware of it too. Since that’s how it is, I have nothing left to hold onto from my past life. So this is what drowning feels like. The water gradually rises over your mouth and nose, flooding your nasal cavity. Your right to breathe is taken away, yet your consciousness remains painfully clear. Survival instinct makes you struggle desperately. But the lack of oxygen renders all your movements futile. My consciousness slowly faded in this extreme agony. In the final moment before death, I felt an odd sense of relief. It was finally over. The suffering would end at last. The water blurred my last remnants of vision. On the nearby shore, my parents and sister were hugging each other, crying and laughing with joy at having survived the ordeal. … I died. And then I lived again. When consciousness returned from the darkness, I saw the excited faces of unfamiliar people around me. “Jane, you’re finally awake! Don’t scare Mommy like that again, okay?” “Are you feeling alright anywhere? Don’t do this again in the future. Mom will be here to help you through anything.” The woman rushed over to hug me, sobbing these words over and over in my ear. I was dazed, allowing the woman to embrace me stiffly, unsure what was happening. Who was Jane? Where was I? Hadn’t I died? My gaze swept across the hospital room, landing on the man standing to the side, restraining his emotions. I was certain I didn’t know these two people. They claimed to be my parents, but my real parents would never shed tears of joy over my rescue. An absurd thought began to form in my mind. The woman calling herself my mother finally released me. She looked rather haggard, though her demeanor and attire suggested she was normally an elegant and refined person. At the moment, her appearance was a bit disheveled. I looked at her silently, keeping my mouth shut. Fortunately, the couple assumed my silence was due to my physical condition, and didn’t press me to respond. Adhering to the principle of saying less to avoid mistakes, I only gave brief “okay” responses or smiled throughout the day. I took advantage of a bathroom break to quickly look in the mirror. Sure enough, I had been reborn. But not into my own body – I was in the body of a complete stranger. I raised my hand to touch this unfamiliar face, my heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and excitement. That night as I lay in bed, I stayed awake thinking about my current situation. The next day when I met the Johnsons again, I decisively said with a smile: “Um… I seem to have lost my memory.” The Johnsons were quite surprised when they heard I had amnesia. They seemed unwilling to believe it, asking me several questions to which I responded with a blank expression. They called in a doctor, who after examination could only say it was an aftereffect that might improve with time. I cooperated obediently throughout the process. I answered everything I knew and admitted what I didn’t know. After all, I truly didn’t know anything, so even if they were suspicious, they couldn’t imagine that the core inside this body had been replaced. After various tests and probing, they finally believed I had truly “lost my memory”. This couple seemed to harbor deep guilt towards their daughter. Although I didn’t know exactly what had happened between them, I could clearly sense their kindness and desire to make amends in how they treated me. And so, under the guise of amnesia, I gradually came to understand this family anew. The Johnsons were quite wealthy, running a multinational trading company and holding high status in their social circles. Fortunately, my previous family hadn’t been too badly off either, otherwise I might have taken years to fully adapt to this sudden change in social class. After being discharged from the hospital, I went straight home with the Johnsons. They gradually introduced me to things over this period, and I came to understand the environment I would be living in from now on. The girl I had replaced was named Jane Johnson, still a high school student of the same age as me. It wasn’t until after I left the hospital that I realized there wasn’t much time left before college applications were due. After discussing it with the Johnsons, we decided I wouldn’t return to school, but would study at home instead. Not taking a gap year was my insistence. In my original body, if I hadn’t drowned, I would have also been at the age to start college. Under the Johnsons’ arrangements, I picked up my textbooks again. That unchanging knowledge finally gave me the feeling of truly living in this world again. I threw all my energy into studying. This time, with no one to hinder me, I could finally do what I wanted. After the interviews, I successfully received an offer from my ideal university for my desired major. Just when I thought everything was starting to get better and I would truly begin a brand new life, I encountered the person I never wanted to see again in this lifetime at university. My sister, Penny Parker. As luck would have it, Penny and I were assigned to the same dorm room. At my insistence, I didn’t let my parents bring a maid to help set up the dorm. I did all the bed-making and organizing myself. My parents watched me arrange everything neatly, their faces full of pride and relief. The other two girls in our quad also did everything themselves. They seemed quite friendly, and we quickly got acquainted, chatting and laughing as we made plans to get our student IDs together and explore campus later. That’s when Penny arrived. She entered with a mountain of luggage that clogged up the hallway. Since she came late, the only bed left was the one by the door. “You, give me your bed,” she demanded, pointing at me. I had already sent my parents home and was still organizing things on my bed when Penny singled me out. Seeing her bossy attitude, just like in the past, I gave a slight smirk. Did she think I was still Amy? “No,” I replied coolly, glancing at her briefly. I didn’t miss the slight frowns that crossed my roommates’ faces. No one would be happy to see a troublemaker join the dorm. “You won’t give it to me?” Penny looked taken aback. Of course, she had never been refused when bullying me before. But the Amy she used to bully had died in the water. Now, I was Jane. Penny didn’t argue with me. She turned and threw herself into her parents’ arms, starting to cry softly. “Dad, Mom, I just wanted that bed…” “It’s okay, sweetie. Daddy and Mommy will take care of it for you.” The Parkers hadn’t changed a bit – as soon as Penny cried, they rushed to back her up. It was the same now. After comforting Penny, Mr. Parker turned to me with a stern face. “Young lady, my daughter likes that bed. Hurry up and give it to her.” “Am I your daughter’s mother? Why should I give in to her?” Anger that had long been suppressed in my heart rose uncontrollably at Mr. Parker’s entitled attitude. “I like your daughter’s eyeballs – should she gouge them out and give them to me?” “How dare you speak that way!” Mrs. Parker scolded me fiercely. “My daughter has taken a liking to your bed. That’s your good fortune. Hurry up and give it to her!” “I’m sorry, but I don’t want that kind of good fortune.” I glanced coldly at the Parkers, not even interested in saying another word to them. If I had known Penny would be attending this university, I would have switched schools without hesitation to avoid the Parkers. They had already made me sick enough in my previous life. I didn’t want them anywhere near me in this one. “What an unreasonable little brat!” Mrs. Parker was like an amplified version of Penny’s personality. Instead of reflecting on the Parkers’ bullying, she turned it around and insulted me. One of my roommates frowned and said, “First come, first served. How can you bully someone like this?” “What business is it of yours?” Mrs. Parker snapped back at her, making my roommate laugh in disbelief. Mrs. Parker then turned back to me with her nose in the air. “You just want money, don’t you? How much will it take for you to switch?” “Well, in that case, I won’t give it up for anything less than $10,000.” I cut in before Mrs. Parker could start scolding again. “It’s your choice whether you want to pay up for this unsolicited deal.” “Mom, forget it,” Penny finally spoke up in a pitiful tone. “It’s just a bed after all. I won’t switch. It’s not worth that much money.” Mrs. Parker looked utterly heartbroken, hugging Penny while glaring daggers at me. “My daughter is so understanding,” Mr. Parker said, his face full of pride. I glanced at my two roommates’ expressions – they looked like they had swallowed flies and were about to be sick. I couldn’t be bothered to deal with that bizarre family anymore. As long as they stayed away from me, I’d be fine. Penny settled into the bed by the door. The maids did all the bed-making and unpacking for her, while she said a tearful goodbye to her parents. I watched the warm, harmonious family scene with cold eyes, unable to keep a hint of bitterness from showing. Though the Parkers had given birth to me, they had never been so gentle towards me. What I heard most often in the Parker household was that no matter right or wrong, I always had to give in to my younger sister Penny. Sometimes I even wondered if I was really their biological daughter. Since they chose to give birth to me, and I had never been unfilial to them, why did they treat me so harshly? Just because I was the older sister? The maids took care of everything perfectly before the Parkers finally left. My two roommates hesitated before calling out to Penny, “We’re all going for a walk around campus. Do you want to come?” “No,” Penny rolled her eyes, all traces of the sweet obedient daughter gone. The two roommates didn’t press further. They called me to join them and we set off together. The main topic of discussion along the way was our new roommate Penny. I listened quietly without commenting. After living with Penny for 18 years, I knew her two-faced nature all too well. But I didn’t expect that when we returned to the dorm after our walk, my bed would look like it had been ransacked by thieves. Everything I had neatly organized was strewn about messily. Meanwhile, my roommates’ beds were untouched, with no signs of disturbance. Such obvious targeting made me laugh in anger. I yanked open Penny’s bed curtain. She was lying there playing on her phone. Our eyes met and she suddenly sat up. “What are you doing?!” “I should be asking you that. Why did you mess with my things?” I dug my nails into my palms, afraid I wouldn’t be able to resist slapping her if I didn’t. “Penny, don’t go too far!” “Do you have proof?” She stared at me challengingly for a few seconds before suddenly putting on a hurt expression. “Jane, I really didn’t do anything. We just met, why are you being so mean to me…” “You were the only one in the room,” I said coldly, watching her act. “If a thief came in, everyone’s stuff would be messed up. You wouldn’t be spared either. Do I need to spell it out for you?” “But I really don’t know anything about it.” She started to sniffle as she spoke. “Jane, why are you bullying me?” “Jane, stop,” my roommates said softly, giving me meaningful looks. I knew what they wanted to say. There were no cameras in the dorm, so no matter what I said, Penny could deny it. But it was crystal clear who had done this. I gritted my teeth and turned away, starting to clean up my things. In my mind, I was already thinking about installing cameras in the room. But Penny kept crying persistently. “Jane, how can you falsely accuse me like this?” “I didn’t do anything, but you came over yelling at me. We’re roommates, how can you bully me like this?” “How can you bully people with a clear conscience?!” “Waaah, I’m going to report this to the RA!” She cried harder and harder. My temples throbbed in irritation and I couldn’t help but turn back and shout, “Oh shut up already!” It was exactly like her old behavior – so annoying! But she cried even harder, slapping another label on me. “Jane, this is campus bullying. I can report you for this!” “Then go ahead and report me!” I was beyond frustrated, slamming things down loudly. Perhaps I should consider changing rooms? At this rate, I wouldn’t be able to focus on studying at all – fighting with Penny would consume all my energy and enthusiasm. “Both of you, calm down,” my roommates quickly tried to mediate, helping me clean up. I glanced at Penny in annoyance and saw that despite her teary eyes, she was smirking at me challengingly. I narrowed my eyes. So she was holding a grudge over the bed incident, huh? Setting aside the Penny situation, I was quite looking forward to college life. My new classmates seemed friendly too. However, the campus rumor mill was incredibly efficient. Soon, details about everyone’s family background and looks in our business school were circulating on the university forums. As it happened, the Parker family wasn’t as well-known as the Johnsons, and Penny’s looks paled in comparison to Jane’s. I became the beauty queen of the business school, leaving Penny in the dust. Within days of starting classes, I had a group of followers, even though I kept a cold expression. They just couldn’t be driven away. But privately, I got along well with my two roommates. They enjoyed hanging out with me. The three of us went everywhere together. With the crowd that always surrounded me, we were a lively group wherever we went. In contrast, Penny’s circle was much quieter. Every time she looked at me, her eyes flashed with jealousy. But I couldn’t be bothered to pay her any attention. Why should I care about a clown who was inferior to me in every way? “Just a peacock, that’s all she is.” We were all eating dinner in the dorm and chatting when Penny suddenly threw out this comment. She glanced at me sideways after speaking, her meaning clear. I nodded towards the new security camera in the corner. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” With such a troublemaker around, I had asked my roommates’ opinions about installing a camera. They had enthusiastically agreed, with no objections. If we couldn’t handle her, we’d find a way to protect ourselves. “Hmph, I’m going to report you all for invading my privacy by not getting my consent,” she stabbed angrily at her food, glaring at me maliciously. I ignored her and said to my roommates, “Weren’t you just talking about your sisters? Let’s continue that conversation.” “My sister can be pretty fierce. When I was little, if I didn’t do my homework properly, she’d yell at me.” “Mine too. I got smacked by my sister plenty of times.” Though my roommates were complaining, their faces were full of smiles. The deep familial affection was clear as day. I was stunned for a moment. Was my bad relationship with Penny because I had never hit her? But if I had dared to be harsh with her, I would have been beaten half to death by our biased parents before Penny could do anything. “Don’t your parents tell your sisters to let you have your way?” I asked curiously. My roommates exchanged a glance and laughed. “No way. Whoever is wrong gets punished. And even though my sister hits me, she always saves the best food and toys for me first. I love my sister the most.” “Same here.” My roommates were smiling sweetly, but my heart was filled with bitterness. All the good food and toys went to Penny first. Why would she need me to care for her? In the end, it was favoritism that created the Amy who swallowed her pride, and the domineering yet fake-sweet Penny. I guess I just never had that familial bond with the Parkers. “Jane, are you an only child?” my roommates asked curiously. I glanced at Penny’s resentful face and nodded. “Yes, I don’t have any siblings.” I used to, but they disappeared along with Amy’s death. “Then we’ll be your sisters from now on.” My roommates smiled kindly, giving me their favorite dishes from their plates. I was touched, but before I could respond, Penny snorted coldly. “As if they’re worthy of being your sisters. You think Jane would want nobodies like you?” My roommates’ smiles froze, looking embarrassed. They were both from ordinary families who had worked hard to get into this good university. They didn’t have impressive family backgrounds to boast about. But I didn’t care about any of that. I put some food on their plates and said sincerely, “I do want you as my sisters.” They smiled at me gratefully. Penny scoffed from the side. “Oh please, Jane. Stop being such a hypocrite. You just want them to run errands for you.” “I don’t have any sisters. I like having sisters – it’s lively,” I replied blandly. But Penny laughed so hard tears came to her eyes. “You think I don’t have an older sister? Let me tell you, older sisters are just there to be ordered around!” “You-!” My roommates were furious. I nodded. “Then your sister must be truly miserable.” In Penny’s heart, what was Amy worth? Nothing at all. “Exactly! With a sister like you, your poor sister must have the worst luck in the world!” my usually mild-mannered roommates couldn’t help but lash out. “Sisters are supposed to support each other, share joys and sorrows. Only you would think of the relationship in such a despicable way!” “Your sister is so pitiful. You should just cut ties with her already.” “Hurry up and stop tormenting her!” As they ranted indignantly, I dug my nails into my palms, listening silently. After all these years, someone was finally standing up for me. The feeling of being truly cared for was wonderful indeed. “Oh, her? She’s already dead.” But Penny just giggled coquettishly, looking quite pleased with herself. “We both fell into the water at the same time, but my parents love me so much they chose to save me and let her drown.” Me: “…” I wanted to ask – could I curse this beast to death? My two roommates were shocked, staring at Penny dumbfounded. “Are you even human?” “Hmph, she was never likable anyway. It’s good that she’s dead,” Penny stabbed at her food distastefully. The shiny fork was like a knife, seemingly stabbing into my soul with each jab, causing unbearable pain. How could she speak so casually about my death? Was she even human?! “Wash my bowl for me. I’m going to order takeout,” Penny commanded one of my roommates matter-of-factly. But my roommate, who had previously been somewhat wary of her, directly refused with a cold face. No one paid her any attention anymore. However, Penny directed her resentment towards me. My things started going missing again, or would end up with strange smells on them. And whenever I lost something, the security camera would mysteriously go black. Everyone knew who was behind it, but there was no concrete evidence. My two roommates privately urged me to change dorms, worried I would end up like Penny’s sister. Little did they know, I was that abandoned sister. But I didn’t want to back down again. Penny’s grades were as terrible as ever. We’d been in classes for a while, but her textbooks still looked brand new. However, between the three of us roommates combined, we didn’t have as wide a social circle as she did. Every day she would dress up glamorously, either going to meet “big brothers” or hang out with “little brothers”. And ever since that day we discussed sisters, rumors about me suddenly started spreading around the department. They said I had loose morals, secretly hooking up with guys by using my looks. They said I had a haughty temper and liked to bully others. They even said my background was fake, that my family was actually dirt poor with my parents working odd jobs, while I bought luxury goods every day. Suddenly, my classmates started looking at me strangely. My roommates tried to explain on my behalf, but ended up being labeled as my lapdogs, getting pointed at and whispered about wherever they went. They were furious, but I remained quite calm. I didn’t interact much with people in our department, and the only person I had any grudge against was Penny. If she wanted to use these petty tricks to slander me, I wasn’t going to take it seriously at all. What kind of person I was couldn’t be destroyed by a few words from her. But photos started appearing on the campus forums. Some anonymous account had somehow taken pictures of me chatting with the campus heartthrob under a tree and posted them online. I thought the guy would clarify things, so I didn’t bother with it. But he ended up writing a long post under the photos condemning the original poster, without actually clarifying our relationship. Penny’s looks towards me became increasingly strange. Many girls started probing me, asking if I was dating the campus heartthrob. Heaven knows, I barely even knew the guy. However, every chance encounter between us would be magnified and discussed on the school forums, causing hordes of girls to attack me online. I was dumbfounded. What was even more outrageous was that while I was mired in these rumors, Penny suddenly released so-called evidence of me bullying her. In the photos, her eyes were red from crying, looking pitiful. The post also included an audio clip of me yelling at her in anger after discovering my things had been messed with on move-in day. I had been furious at the time, and my words “Go ahead and report me then!” became a heavily criticized point. The sound of me slamming things was interpreted as me violently beating Penny. My roommates had already been labeled as accomplices and couldn’t show their faces. Every day, girls would curiously peek into our dorm to watch the drama unfold. Some would comfort Penny, saying I would get my comeuppance. Penny played the innocent victim, finding new ways to torment me and my roommates every day. And then I saw the campus heartthrob hugging Penny.

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My crush finally said yes to my confession. The next day, my best friend slept with him. She said, “I didn’t mean to, I was drunk that night… Can you forgive me?” I opened a can of soda, took a few gulps, and said solemnly, “You don’t understand me.” I continued, “I don’t like dirty things.” “A man who’s been with someone else is no different from trash to me.” “Don’t feel burdened. If you want him, go ahead. I really don’t mind.” Everyone in our circle knew I had a crush on Ryan. Ryan himself knew it too. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have dared to boss me around so shamelessly. I’ve lost count of how many nights I’ve received calls from Ryan while half-asleep. “Lily, I’m hungry. Bring some late-night snacks to my office.” Or how many afternoons he’d call without even a hint of courtesy. “Lily, I have a business meeting. Park your car downstairs within 30 minutes.” Or when I’d spend two hours getting ready, looking gorgeous as I stood at Ryan’s doorstep, reminding him of the date he’d agreed to half a month ago. And he’d frown and say, “Lily, can you stop being so unreasonable? I told you I have a business dinner!” “Lily.” The day after I received photos of Ryan and Julia in various acrobatic-like positions in bed, Julia found me wearing a white dress. Her face was perfectly made up. Even her knuckles, clutching a limited edition Chanel handbag, were blushed. In contrast, I had a greasy ponytail that hadn’t been washed for days, wearing a gray tank top similar to what old men in the neighborhood wear for their morning walks. And in front of me was a large can of surströmming, continuously emitting its “fragrance.” My appearance must have been quite unexpected. Julia paused before continuing. “Lily, I didn’t mean to sleep with Ryan. I was drunk that night… Can you forgive me?” My good friend had just uttered the classic line of someone caught cheating. But I didn’t want to play along with her “We’re best friends! Wah, why did you sleep with my man?!” drama. I nodded, looking indifferent: “Of course I can forgive you. Why not?” Julia was stunned: “Lily, are you serious?” “But it’s Ryan, isn’t it? Haven’t you liked him for many years?” “Many years? Has it been that long?” I shrugged: “Then it’s about time for a change.” I opened a can of soda, took a few gulps, and said solemnly: “Julia, you don’t understand me.” I continued, “I don’t like dirty things.” “A man who’s been with someone else is no different from trash to me.” “Don’t feel burdened. If you want him, go ahead. I really don’t mind.” After I said this, Julia’s face went through a rainbow of emotions. She probably expected me to cry my eyes out. So she stuttered again: “Lily, I know you’re upset.” “But don’t say things you don’t mean.” “No one expected this to happen. Why don’t we talk about how to solve this?” She tried to come closer as she spoke. But because the surströmming smell was truly overwhelming, she had to wrinkle her nose and stop half a meter away, next to an oil painting. If someone could see us two right now, they’d definitely think Julia was the owner of this mansion. After all, she’s the one wearing haute couture. She’s the one wearing limited edition perfume. She’s the one who’s been controlling her oiliness for years, to the point where even when the real owner wants to eat something she likes, she has to do it sneakily. I’ve raised this parasite for five years, spoiling her to the point where she dared to sleep with my man and then come ask for forgiveness. What is this called? Feeding pearls to a swine. “I’m really not angry.” Just then, a phone call came in. I left Julia hanging there for over half an hour before putting down the phone: “What were you saying earlier?” Julia looked at me, very frankly: “Lily, I’ve never been in a relationship before. Ryan is my first man. Can you let him go for me?” “Sure.” I nodded without hesitation and said, “He’s yours. What else do you want?” “If there’s nothing else, take out the trash by the door when you leave.” After all, you like trash so much, don’t you? After that day, I deleted Julia’s fingerprints from all the properties registered under my name. Including that townhouse near Central Park that neither my parents nor I visit often. Only a fool would pour their heart out to Julia in this world. For the past five years, to ensure Julia had enough monthly allowance to live like a princess, I worked crazy hours, overtime, risking my life to make money. But now… it’s not my responsibility to support her anymore. ··· I hired over twenty professional accountants to work overtime calculating the accounts. Three days later. Looking at the astronomical figure submitted by the chief accountant, I unwrapped a lollipop and put it in my mouth. “Are you sure she owes me this much?” I crossed my legs and smoothed the silky hair on my shoulder, exuding an urban lady vibe. “Miss Quinn, I’m absolutely certain.” “Good, good, good.” I laughed out loud three times, then emailed the bill to Ryan. And, I CC’d all our mutual friends! Actually, the moment I decided to make Julia pay back the money, I knew I’d make a small profit. But I didn’t expect it to be more than just a small profit! It was like winning the lottery, and tax-free at that! Ryan quickly called after receiving the email. I used to love his voice, obsessively saving every voice message he sent me. When he was too lazy to type and called directly, I’d beg him to say more. But now, just seeing the name “Ryan” made me sick. So. I hung up the call and sent my bank account number directly, with a note: “Surely this small amount isn’t beyond Mr. King’s means?” After doing this, I took out a stack of cash from the safe and handed it to the chief accountant. “You and your team have worked hard lately. This money is a small token of my appreciation.” “Let them buy snacks, buy whatever they like to eat.” I said this with great generosity. The chief accountant, seemingly infected by my enthusiasm, didn’t stand on ceremony. He reached out with his slender hand, took the money, pushed up his rimless glasses, and smiled faintly: “Miss Quinn, you’re very generous.” Hey! This is nothing! I waved my hand: “I’m not an ordinary capitalist, I’m…” Halfway through my sentence, I realized something was off. Was this handsome chief accountant genuinely praising my generosity, or subtly implying I was a sucker?! Looking at Zach’s face that could practically debut as an idol on the spot, I fell into deep thought. Has he always been this good-looking? How come I didn’t notice yesterday? Perhaps my image as a lovesick fool was too deeply ingrained in people’s minds. Lucas, upon learning that Julia and Ryan had gotten together, quickly arranged a gathering. He said: he wanted me to see the true colors of this pair of scumbags. To this, I quickly waved my hands and said: unnecessary, completely unnecessary. I might be stubborn, but I’m not stupid. I’ve already experienced how disgusting these two are. But my refusal was ineffective. When I showed up at the party in a Dior mini dress, Ryan had been beaten black and blue by Lucas, while Julia was sobbing softly beside him, occasionally comforting him. “Lily.” Lucas and a few other mutual friends pulled up a chair for me to sit in front of these two: “They have something to say to you.” “Lily…” Julia opened her mouth, ready to act. Ryan also looked pained: “Lily…” “Stop.” I halted this farce, serious and cold: “Julia, you said Ryan was your first man and asked me to give him to you. Okay. I don’t want trash, if you want it, it’s yours.” “Ryan, we only dated for a day, there wasn’t much emotional foundation. But you cheated.” “Lily, I’m sorry, I really…” He was halfway through his sentence when I interrupted him: “You are indeed sorry, but I don’t forgive you.” “Ryan, we’ve broken up. I dumped you.” After saying this, I went straight home from the party, not caring what the onlookers thought. But when I reached my front door, I was surprised to find that the usually well-lit upscale neighborhood was pitch black. I called the property management: what’s going on? They said: “We’re sorry, Miss Quinn, due to weather conditions, we’ll temporarily stop power supply for a while.” Weather? I looked up at the perfectly normal sky, about to tell the management: “At least find a better excuse when making things up.” Who would have thought, several flashes of lightning accompanied by rolling thunder. In less than half a minute, it turned this urban lady into a drowned rat. It was so sudden… It inevitably reminded me of certain TV dramas. I shed a few tears in the rain, reason unknown, but somehow felt relieved. I was about to indulge in it when suddenly a low, magnetic male voice came from behind: “Miss Quinn?” I turned around abruptly: “…Chief Accountant?” He looked at me, his handsome features somehow appearing more youthful without the suit, like a campus heartthrob from some university: “You’re in quite the mood.” “Ahem.” My image of elegance, sophistication, and grace was completely ruined. I forced a smile: “So late… Mr. Harrison out for a walk?” “So Miss Quinn does know my name.” Zach nodded, seeming satisfied with this. This guy was hard to read. Every time we talked, I felt awkward and didn’t know where to put my hands and feet. Trying to salvage the situation, I smoothed my hair, suddenly realizing something: “Mr. Harrison lives here too?” “Mm.” Zach tilted the black umbrella he was holding over his head towards me: “Where are you going, Miss Quinn? I’ll walk you.” “Ah, okay, thank you.” I was almost soaked through by the rain. I didn’t care much about the little shelter Zach’s umbrella provided, but as the old saying goes… It’s foolish not to take advantage of a good opportunity! Zach walked me to my front door. But my fingerprint lock wasn’t working due to the power outage, and of course, I hadn’t brought the emergency key. Three minutes later. Holding my phone with its critically low battery, I took a deep breath and said to Zach: “Maybe you should just leave me…” Zach: “Come to my place.” Our voices mixed together. A few seconds later, we spoke simultaneously again. “Okay.” “Alright!” Zach’s lips curled up slightly, as if smiling: “What did Miss Quinn want to say?” “How come you even have dimples?” As soon as the words left my mouth, I could have dug a mansion-sized hole with my toes to hide in. Trying to regain composure, I put my hands together: “I mean, if Mr. Harrison is willing to take me home, I won’t shortchange you on the price.” I’m used to solving problems with money. But Zach isn’t someone who can be bought with money. “Is this an original?!” I pointed at the painting on his wall, my eyes shining. Zach gracefully folded his umbrella: “Miss Quinn has a good eye.” “You actually have the full set of these figurines?!” I looked at the set of toys worth millions, drooling. Zach took off his glasses, using a cloth to wipe off the raindrops: “Does Miss Quinn like them?” I was completely shocked by Zach. Taking the clothes Zach handed me, I asked seriously: “Mr. Harrison, if you’re so rich, why do you still work?” “Isn’t Miss Quinn the same as me?” Zach looked at me earnestly. It was at this moment that I noticed his eyes were a beautiful amber color. The kind worth insuring. “That’s… true.” I felt a bit deflated by Zach’s evasiveness. But after a pause, Zach added: “Work allows me to meet many interesting people. Besides accumulating wealth, I also enjoy the process.” “…Interesting people?” I’ve only encountered various people with questionable intelligence. “In my heart,” Zach said casually, “Miss Quinn is one such person.” Thank you, I really appreciate it. He could have just directly called me a sucker, but he still complimented me as interesting. After showering in Zach’s guest room. I picked up my phone, which had been buzzing non-stop after being plugged in. Thanks to Lucas, the video of Julia, Ryan, and me at the party was now being frantically forwarded in various group chats within our circle. As the victim of betrayal by a friend and cheating by a boyfriend, I received unanimous praise for my cool and collected behavior. “This is so satisfying,” someone commented, tagging Ryan and asking: “When are you going to pay Lily back?” Ryan might have been drunk, as he directly sent a voice message: “What does my business with Lily have to do with you all?” “I know you’ve all been waiting to see me make a fool of myself. If you’ve got the guts, come laugh in my face!” “Ryan, stop drinking.” At the end of the voice message was Julia’s faint plea. I tossed the phone aside and lay on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. After a while, Zach came to knock on the door: “Miss Quinn.” “The backup power in the house isn’t much. Turn off the lights after you finish showering and come out to eat something.” “Okay.” Without much delay, I put on the pajamas Zach gave me and poked my head into the kitchen: “Mr. Harrison, is there anything I can help with?” Zach didn’t look up: “Miss Quinn, just have a seat.” “Then when my phone is fully charged, I’ll send you a big red envelope?” “Miss Quinn.” Zach said as he brought out two bowls of noodles. The noodles smelled so delicious that I wondered if this dish could be mass-produced, the boxes would probably circle the Earth over 300 times: “I didn’t take you in for money.” “Then why did you?” I looked at Zach, who was so handsome there was hardly room for improvement. I forcefully swallowed the words “You’re not coveting my beauty, are you?” After eating our fill. I lounged on Zach’s high-end sofa, lost in thought. Zach washed some fruit in the kitchen and brought it out. I ate a few pieces by candlelight and suddenly felt tears welling up: “Zach, you’re such a good person.” “Miss Quinn, there’s no need for that.” He took off his glasses, pinched the bridge of his nose, and the whole person looked like the epitome of a cultured rogue, making one want to sigh in admiration. Swallowing some saliva, I said sincerely: “Mr. Harrison, I’m speaking from the heart.” “If Miss Quinn feels indebted, why not help me with something?” Zach hit the nail on the head, pointing out the reason for my flattery. I didn’t shy away, patting my chest and saying: “Mr. Harrison, although I can’t go through fire and water for you, I have many friends and can introduce you to business opportunities. I guarantee…” “Miss Quinn.” Zach interrupted my grand promises: “I hope you can be my girlfriend.” “Impossible!” I was shocked. “Miss Quinn.” The candlelight was too dim for me to see the emotion on Zach’s face, but for some inexplicable reason, I felt a sense of guilt as if I had angered him. He said: “You misunderstand.” “This girlfriend I’m talking about is a kind of cooperative relationship.” “My parents are pressuring me to get married, and I don’t want to waste time on blind dates, so I thought you could help me out.” After Zach finished speaking, I felt a bit relieved. I knew it, how could my beauty only be worth a bowl of noodles and a few cherries? “I understand what you mean, but…” Isn’t it not good to deceive people like this? I hesitated. Zach took a candle holder from the coffee table, using his nearly six-foot height to look down at me. “Miss Quinn doesn’t need to answer right away.” He looked noble and arrogant like a vampire from Europe: “It’s late today, you should rest.” “Okay.” I said as I got up. But just as I was about to enter the room, I suddenly remembered something. I turned back and found Zach still standing in the same spot, his looks worth more than a series of figurines combined, somehow making my heart race. “Zach, how old are you this year?” Zach is actually younger than me! Mature, steady, successful, handsome, and a great cook, Zach is actually younger than me!? Although it’s only three months, how can I be like an older sister in front of him? Comparison really is the thief of joy. The more I thought about it, the more I couldn’t sleep. The scene of me handing that stack of cash to Zach like a nouveau riche kept replaying in my mind. Thanks to Zach, I didn’t think about Julia and Ryan for a second before falling asleep that night. The next morning. As expected, I woke up late. I rushed out of the guest room wearing the same little dress from yesterday. I bumped into Zach, who was holding milk and toast, with my bare face. “Miss Quinn?” “You, you.” I looked up at him, strangely at a loss for words: “Don’t call me that anymore.” “Since we’re now in a ‘shared hardship’ relationship, I’ll take the lead. From today on, you call me sister, and I’ll call you little brother.” Zach laughed, his small dimples briefly appearing: “If I remember correctly, I’ve always been calling you Miss Quinn.” “How are Miss Quinn and sister the same?” I said while grabbing a piece of Zach’s toast and running out: “Little brother, I have something to do, so I’m leaving first. See you later.” Zach seemed to say something, but I closed the door too quickly to hear. I rushed back home, took five minutes to put on makeup, and opened my computer to start discussing a project with the other party. After two hours of intense debate. When the meeting ended, I collapsed back into my chair like a deflated balloon. After a moment of emptiness, I couldn’t help but smile. Who isn’t a small tycoon capable of negotiating projects now!! To celebrate the successful negotiation of the project, I decided to reward myself with a good meal. But when I changed my clothes and opened the door, I was completely stunned by the situation outside. Ryan was furious, looking slightly haggard. Zach looked innocent, his hair slightly covering his eyes without much styling, looking like a college student who had just entered society. I didn’t understand this combination. Clearing my throat, I chose to speak to the handsome one: “Little brother, why are you here?” Raising his hand like a puppy, Zach said: “Sister, you took my slippers when you left.” Indeed, what he was holding were my high heels. Too embarrassed, I was already used to it: “I’m sorry, I left in a hurry this morning and didn’t notice.” “It’s okay.” Zach shook his head obediently. I smiled appreciatively. This understanding child will surely achieve great things in the future. “Lily Quinn!” Ryan suddenly gritted his teeth: “You slept with him?” “We broke up yesterday, and today you’re already with this pretty boy?” “All your kindness to me before was clearly fake.” I was completely confused by Ryan’s words, took a breath and said: “Mr. King, are you alright?” “Do I need to make a PowerPoint of your and Julia’s explicit photos to help you understand what really happened?” “What photos are you talking about now!?” Ryan stepped forward: “I’ve caught you red-handed!” His expression was ferocious, his demeanor frenzied. Zach stepped forward, blocking between us, looking a bit innocent as he lowered his eyes: “This… uncle, are you her ex?” Ryan couldn’t accept it and roared: “What did you call me!?” “Aren’t you an uncle?” Zach fearlessly continued to add fuel to the fire of the nearly exploding Ryan: “Since you and her are over, don’t come looking for her anymore in the future. Otherwise…” His eyes darkened slightly: “I’ll get jealous.” Hearing this, Ryan’s face changed dramatically, raising his fist to punch Zach’s face. I was startled, wanting to stop it. But Zach reacted faster than me. He dodged skillfully, and on Ryan’s third attempt to hit him, Zach landed a punch right on Ryan’s face, followed by a swift kick. “Sister.” Ryan was down. Zach turned to look at me, his tone serious, as if afraid I would misunderstand. “I don’t have violent tendencies.” “I-I know.” To prevent the situation from escalating further. I pushed Zach into my house before Ryan could get up. “Lily.”

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I raised Avery Stone for eighteen years, and she turned out to be a fraud. My biological daughter was sent to the countryside by my husband. While Avery lived in luxury, she was out chopping wood and feeding pigs. When Avery was attending Harvard University with tutoring, she was forced to drop out. Even when she found us, Avery casually said, “I don’t want to leave Dad.” Then, my daughter inexplicably fell from a high-rise building. Unwilling to accept this, I decided to uncover the truth. However, I was severely injured when Avery drove and crashed into me. Before I died, I saw my best friend hugging Logan Blackwood as they got out of the car. “Thank you for raising our daughter for eighteen years!” When I opened my eyes again, my daughter had just been born. This time, I will protect my daughter myself! A sudden, intense pain caused me to lose consciousness. Am I dead? Everything around me is a blur of white; I can’t see anything! Am I going to heaven? But I’m so unwilling! I feel such hatred! Logan Blackwood, my husband of many years, had been cheating on me for years behind my back. The daughter I cherished so deeply turned out to be Logan’s child with his mistress! The image of my best friend embracing Logan is still vivid in my mind, and the tragic sight of my biological daughter’s death is still before my eyes! I want revenge! “Doctor! Doctor! The mother has fainted!” I vaguely hear someone shouting in my ear. The strong scent of disinfectant fills my nose. I suddenly open my eyes! Where am I? Once again, I awaken on a hospital bed! The surroundings are unfamiliar, yet it feels like I’ve been here before. “Serena, you’re finally awake! Mom was so scared!” Mom? The woman before me is well-dressed and well-maintained. She looks like my mother when she was young! Didn’t my mom pass away a few years ago? “They say childbirth is like passing through the gates of hell! Luckily, you made it safely!” Childbirth? Have I been reborn? I swiftly sit up. Where is my child? “Mom, where is my child!?” I don’t have time to savor the joy of reuniting with my mother; I start searching for my daughter. In my previous life, my daughter was swapped by Logan shortly after birth. I must ensure this never happens again! “Mom, where is my child!” I ask my mother again, desperately. “Serena, don’t worry. You passed out, and the nurses took the baby to bathe!” My mom quickly tries to comfort me. “Logan is watching over you there! Your body still needs time to heal; don’t move around too much!” “What! Logan is watching!” A chill runs from the soles of my feet up through my entire body!

I must not let Logan succeed! There’s only one thought in my mind. “Mom, I need to find my daughter. I need to go now!” Ignoring my mother’s protests and enduring the severe pain from my wounds, I dash to the door! I see Logan Blackwood approaching, holding a child! He bends down to look at the child, his eyes filled with undeniable joy! He’s succeeded! My entire body starts to tremble! In my previous life, Logan looked exactly like this when holding Lila. I wanted to name my daughter Lila Hart, but Logan insisted on the name Avery Stone, saying it signifies elegance, nobility, and hope! “Wife, why are you here? Come back to bed and lie down!” Logan looks up when he sees me, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes, quickly replaced by a look of concern. My mother also comes over, pulling me back to bed! I return to the bed, coldly staring at the swaddled baby. It’s that bastard! Replacing my biological daughter, deceiving me with eighteen years of love, stealing the life that was rightfully my daughter’s, and finally causing my accident. I now hate this bastard so much I could choke her to death! My gaze is as cold as an ice knife. Logan’s eyes remain fixed on the imposter Avery Stone, not noticing anything else. But my mother, who has been taking care of me, is stunned. “Serena, haven’t you been talking about the baby all this time? Look how cute she is!” “Logan, bring the baby closer and place her beside Serena!” “Yes, Mom!” Logan obediently holds Avery closer. “No, I’m tired. I want to rest.” Suppressing the hatred in my heart, I decide to start devising a long-term plan! I close my eyes and slowly begin to formulate a revenge plan in my mind!

Logan just started working at my father’s company, working during the day and coming to the hospital at night! He portrayed himself as the perfect husband flawlessly! In my previous life, I was moved by him and felt sorry for his hard work. But now, only I know he was doing this for his mistress, my good friend Elena Sinclair! Elena had also just given birth at the same hospital, allowing Logan to successfully swap the two children! Logan was my college classmate. He hailed from a remote Appalachian mountain village! During college, he was diligent and studious, working very hard and earning scholarships every year. Marriage, whether in ancient times or today, requires compatibility in social status. My father originally thought I should marry someone well-matched. With my persuasion, he approved Logan’s steady and hardworking nature, agreeing to our marriage. Looking back now, knowing someone’s true character by face is impossible! Logan Blackwood is a wolf in sheep’s clothing! As for when he started hooking up with Elena? I have no idea, but now that the children are born, it couldn’t have been too long! In my previous life, since childbirth, I barely worked. I was entirely focused on taking care of my daughter! I gradually handed over all the company affairs to Logan. This life, I will no longer let Hartstone Enterprises fall into Logan’s hands, brick by brick! With the doctors’ consent, I was discharged a week later and moved into a birthing center. I spent a lot of money hiring a private investigator, Mason Drake, to investigate Logan’s whereabouts and his family’s situation over the past two weeks. During our wedding, not a single person from Logan’s side attended! Logan claimed his parents had died early, and he was raised by his grandfather, who also passed away a few years ago. At the time, I felt sorry for him and consoled him, saying that his family was now mine. Looking back now, it’s laughable! Logan’s family must still have someone. In my previous life, Logan sent my daughter to the countryside!

During the day, Logan doesn’t come to the birthing center. My parents are also busy with the company, so most of the time, I’m alone! I watch Avery Stone sleeping, feeling the urge to choke her! A bastard is a bastard; she just can’t be raised properly! My daughter still doesn’t know where she’s suffering, while this bastard can lie in a premium baby crib! Damn her! Avery eventually wakes up and starts crying. I know she’s hungry. In my previous life, I raised her single-handedly. When she frowned, I knew what she needed! But I don’t want to feed her! In my previous life, I personally breastfed her. This life, I used the excuse of being unwell to refuse breastfeeding. Logan’s dissatisfied expression is hard to hide. I saw right through him! But I ignored it. Now, without me, Logan would be penniless. He doesn’t have the courage to express his dissatisfaction! I refused the imported premium baby formula my parents had prepared and used cheap, regular formula instead! I often hear the nurses secretly talking, saying that I stay at a high-end birthing center but let the baby drink regular formula. How cruel! Hehe, I don’t even want to feed her regular formula! I let Avery cry without paying any attention. The harder she cries, the more satisfied I feel! A nurse knocks on the door. I sit quietly, ignoring the knock. I had locked the door from the inside. Only my mother has the key; others can’t open it. After a long time, Avery finally gets tired of crying and falls asleep. But my mother rushes in, looking anxious! “Serena, Serena, what’s wrong? Why didn’t you open the door?” “I fell asleep, Mom. What’s wrong?” I rub my eyes, pretending to have just woken up. “I received a call from the birthing center staff saying the baby was crying. You didn’t open the door, which really worried me. I thought something happened!” My mother looks at Avery. “As long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters. Oh, I was so worried!” “No, Mom, I’m fine. I just fell asleep. I didn’t hear her cry. Did she cry?” I wear a confused expression. Avery, exhausted from crying, falls back asleep. Naturally, my mother doesn’t notice anything. “It wasn’t crying anymore. Serena, have you been feeling unhappy lately?” My mother sits by the bedside, holding my hand. “I’m fine, Mom. What could I possibly have to worry about? Don’t worry.” I squeeze my mother’s hand back, smiling with ease. A mother’s intuition is unparalleled; my mother can keenly detect any abnormalities. “As long as you’re okay. If you have anything to talk about, just tell Mom. You’ll always be Mom’s baby!” I feel a surge of emotion in my heart, warmth spreading from my fingertips to my core! “Mom!” I can’t help but call out. “Hey, I’m here!” I’m here, such a simple phrase! It’s a pity that in my previous life, my daughter never felt the warmth of home for a single day. “Mom, how’s the company?” I change the subject. “The company has your dad there. What are you worried about? Don’t worry!” “That’s good.” I smile and continue to ask. “Logan, are you still the Project Manager?” I remember that in my previous life, shortly after I gave birth, Logan was promoted by my father to Project Director. Later, against my father’s objections, I gradually made Logan take over my position as General Manager. In my previous life, I still thought my judgment was good, believing that Logan was making the company thrive! How blind I was! “Yes, Logan’s been doing great. Don’t worry, your dad is already considering promoting him to Director!” My mother seems to think I’m worried about Logan’s work and tries to comfort me. “No, Mom. I don’t think it’s urgent to promote Logan yet. Let’s wait a bit. Talk to your dad first, and I’ll discuss this when I get back!” I smile. How could I possibly be in a hurry to see Logan promoted?! I want him to stay in this position forever! “What’s wrong? Weren’t you pushing your dad for a promotion earlier?” My mother looks puzzled. “It was because I was inexperienced before. Now that I’m a mother, I understand how hard it was for you and Dad to build this business!” “You both started from scratch, built this foundation, and are selecting the right people. Of course, you have to consider multiple factors!” “Serena, you’ve really grown up!” My mother looks touched!

In the evening, Logan returns home. “Wife, I heard the baby was crying nonstop today. Did it keep you from resting?” As soon as Logan comes back, he keeps hugging the bastard Avery. In my previous life, I would have stopped him from doing this, knowing the baby was fragile and exposed to germs from adults. But now, I feel nothing. I actually want him to hug her as much as possible. “No, once I feed her, she stops crying!” I respond coldly. “That’s good. Our little baby shouldn’t disturb Mom’s rest. Mom worked hard to have you, so we need to be good and take care of Mom together!” Logan says this while lifting Avery high into the air. I watch coldly, saying nothing. Where is my daughter now! “Wife, I know it wasn’t easy for you to have our daughter. We don’t need to breastfeed her, but what about the formula? Why not switch to imported ones? The ones your parents chose earlier are pretty good.” I ignore him, and Logan continues! “You see, once the baby is well-fed, she won’t cry and disturb you, right?” Logan moves closer to me, his tone gentle. “I think this brand is pretty good. It meets national safety standards for baby formula. Kids eat a lot and get hungry quickly, so it’s normal for them to cry!” I respond in the same casual tone as always. “Wife, this is still different. How can domestic formula be as good as imported ones? Our family isn’t short on money. We can afford imported baby formula!” Logan is persistent. He moves closer to me, extending his arm to embrace me! “Yeah, we’re really not short on money! Let me do the math for you. Now that the baby is just born, she needs a lot of formula—at least six cans a month. I’m in the birthing center now, with no income. Your current salary, after normal expenses, can only afford three cans! Not to mention diapers and other supplies!” I rise to avoid Logan’s touch, calmly breaking down the numbers for him. “Don’t we still have your parents? And I’m about to get a promotion!” Logan’s face flashes with embarrassment. “This isn’t right. We’re married, and even the baby formula costs your parents money. That’s unacceptable. You’re not promoted yet. Let’s wait until you are, and then we’ll talk!” What a slick plan! Using my parents’ money to raise your illegitimate child. Logan Blackwood, you are shameless! With your salary, your bastard only deserves cheap formula! Still wanting a promotion? Ha, wait and see. I’ll make sure you stay stuck! Logan is silenced, his formerly brazen face now silent! He turns around and starts playing with Avery. I walk into the inner room, unwilling to see Logan’s true colors any longer!

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My brother married a crybaby. If I stayed over for an extra meal, she would cry. She’d say, “This family only cares about their daughter and doesn’t give a damn about their daughter-in-law!” When I bought a house with my own money, she cried again. She’d say, “How could she, just a girl, afford a house? Your parents must have helped her!” Then she went even further, spreading rumors that I was some rich man’s mistress and slept my way to the top. It wasn’t until my brother got kicked out trying to defend her that she finally had nothing left to cry about. “How could your sister, just a girl, afford such a nice house all on her own? Your parents must have secretly given her money!” Delilah’s voice was sharp, dripping with suspicion. “Babe, you’re overthinking it. My parents already told me, they didn’t give her a dime,” Eliot replied, trying to calm her down. “You thick-headed fool! Do you think they’d admit it if they did? That would just make them look biased!” I had been on my way to call Eliot and Delilah for dinner when I accidentally overheard their conversation. What was so wrong about buying a house? I bought it with my own hard-earned money. And even if my parents had chipped in, so what? I’m their daughter, isn’t it normal for parents to help their own kids? Is that a crime now? I didn’t interrupt them. Something made me stand there and keep listening. I heard Delilah’s voice, bitter and angry, “I don’t care. If your parents had the money to buy Sienna a house, then they better do the same for us. You’re their son, after all, and they’ll need you to take care of them when they’re old. A daughter will get married off eventually, and she’ll be someone else’s problem.” Eliot’s voice softened, clearly not agreeing with her. “You’re thinking too much, Delilah. Sienna’s my sister. And our house is already big enough. We don’t need to waste money like that.” Delilah wanted to keep arguing, but Eliot cut her off. “Enough! Today’s about Sienna moving into her new place. Stop bringing up this nonsense.” As I heard Eliot’s footsteps approaching, I quickly turned and slipped away. Even though Delilah was always a bit unreasonable, at least my brother still had my back. When we all sat down for dinner, Delilah still looked sour, acting like she was owed something. Eliot gave her several warning looks, but she didn’t tone it down. My mom couldn’t take it anymore. After the other relatives left, she pulled Eliot and Delilah aside for a talk. “I know what’s going through your head. You think we gave Sienna the money for her house and you’re feeling upset about it, right?” Delilah thought she had figured everything out and immediately launched into a tirade. “Isn’t that exactly what happened? How could a young girl earn enough money to buy a house? Honestly, Marjorie, Gerald, you’ve been so unfair! Eliot and I are the ones who’ll take care of you when you’re older. Your money should be spent on us, not her!” “Sienna’s going to get married and leave the family anyway. Why buy her a house? That’s just going to benefit some other guy. Honestly, you two are way too clueless.” “Eliot, you coward! You won’t speak up, so I have to!” My brother tugged on Delilah’s arm, telling her to stop, but she just went off even more. My mom slammed her hand down on the table, her voice cold, “Don’t anyone stop her. Let her talk.” Anyone who knew my mom could tell she was on the verge of blowing up. Delilah shrank back a little, her tone not as strong as before. “Did I say something wrong?” When Delilah first married into the family, my parents bent over backward to make sure she felt welcome. They sold their old house and, with their savings, bought a beautiful Victorian-style home in Savannah. And they asked Delilah what she wanted. If she didn’t want to live with them, they would’ve bought her and Eliot a nice three-bedroom house. If she liked big houses, they could all live in the Victorian home together, and my mom could help take care of future kids. The choice was Delilah’s, and my parents had always made it clear that I’d always have a place in their home, whether I got married or not. At first, Delilah was sweet and warm, always so kind to me. I was thrilled—I thought I’d hit the jackpot with such a wonderful sister-in-law. No issues between us at all. But after just six months, her true colors started to show. It began with her constantly nudging my mom to set me up on dates. “Sienna’s not getting any younger, it’s time for her to settle down,” she’d say. My mom made her stance clear: if I didn’t want to get married, it was fine. Even if I never married, they’d support me. That must have been the breaking point. From then on, Delilah saw me as a threat to her interests.

Things only escalated from there. Delilah became convinced that my parents were secretly giving me money. Whenever I bought a new makeup product or handbag, she was the first to make a snide comment. “Oh, Sienna, what did you buy this time? It must have cost a fortune! You know, I’d never splurge like that. It’s so much easier to be single—you can spend without a care!” “Is that designer? Must have set you back a few thousand dollars. You know, instead of wasting money on these things, you could buy some health supplements for your parents.” At first, when Delilah hadn’t fully shown her true self, I used to buy her gifts whenever I got something for myself. A nice bag, some makeup, I always made sure to include her. But to her, my generosity was just proof that I was freeloading off my parents, spending their money. What she didn’t know was that my brother’s business only took off because of my support behind the scenes. To avoid putting my parents and Eliot in an awkward position, I bought my own place and moved out. I thought I was doing everyone a favor by giving them space, but somehow, Delilah twisted that, too. My mom shot Eliot a cold look, her silence speaking volumes: This is the wife you chose? “Eliot! Say something!” Delilah barked, clearly frustrated that my brother hadn’t defended her. “Don’t you want to know how much your parents gave Sienna for her house?” Just when I thought Eliot would stand up for me, he hesitated, then moved to Delilah’s side. That’s when I understood. No wonder Delilah felt so bold—Eliot was quietly enabling her the whole time. I felt like I’d swallowed a stone. It sat heavy in my chest, impossible to spit out, and equally impossible to keep down. “Eliot, do you agree with Delilah? Do you think I shouldn’t have spent our family’s money?” I looked my brother dead in the eye, waiting for his answer. What Delilah thought of me didn’t matter—I couldn’t care less. But Eliot? He was my brother, my flesh and blood. We grew up together. As kids, if I ever got hurt, he’d be the first to grab a stick and defend me. He knew better than anyone what I had been through. But now, he couldn’t even look at me. Still, he spoke. “Sienna, don’t misunderstand. I’m not upset about Mom and Dad giving you money for the house. You’re my sister. If you’d asked me for help, I’d have given it to you, no question. But we’re family. Mom and Dad gave you that money, so Delilah and I have a right to know how much, don’t we?” Hearing that, even my usually silent dad turned dark with anger. “Eliot! Don’t forget—you wouldn’t have what you do today without Sienna’s help!” Don’t let my dad’s quiet nature fool you—when he speaks up, it’s serious. Eliot instantly fell silent. But Delilah, being Delilah, wasn’t about to back down. “Well, Eliot said we have a right to know…” “Fine. You want to know? I’ll tell you.” My mom’s voice was cutting. “Sienna bought that house with her own money, every last penny. Not only did we not give her anything, but she even gave us $10,000. Satisfied now?” Delilah’s eyes widened in disbelief. Hearing about the $10,000, they practically lit up. Her entire demeanor changed in an instant. She latched onto my arm, playing the role of the caring sister-in-law. “Oh my, Marjorie, Gerald, what are you saying? That’s not what we meant at all. We were just worried about you not having enough to take care of yourselves, that’s all.” Her behavior was so shameless I had to pull my arm away. “Well, if there’s nothing else, it’s getting late. You two should head home.” Eliot gave me a sheepish smile. I could tell he wanted to apologize but didn’t have the guts to say it. In that moment, I realized something I hadn’t before: even between siblings, there can be distance, and sometimes that distance can be hard to bridge.

At first, I thought that putting some space between us would help. We might not be as close as we used to be, but we could still be family. I underestimated how dangerous jealousy can be. It wasn’t long before I started noticing the way my neighbors looked at me—disdainful, judging, whispering behind my back. Several times, I tried to greet them while walking my dog, but they would turn away, avoiding me like I had some sort of disease. Then one day, I checked the Oak Hills Subdivision Group Chat and finally understood what was going on. It all started with a faceless account stirring up rumors. “Did you hear about the owner of 609? People say she’s some rich old man’s mistress. How else could someone that young afford a house like that?” “Seriously? She seemed like such a nice girl. How could she do something like that?” “Tsk, tsk, girls these days. No shame at all.” “You’d better keep an eye on your husbands, ladies. If she sets her sights on one of them, it’s game over.” I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. What kind of nonsense were they spouting? I tried adding the person who had started the rumors, but they left the group chat as soon as they’d done the damage. Meanwhile, the others kept gossiping, acting like they knew everything about my life. They even said the man supposedly “keeping” me was in his seventies. At that point, I had enough. I took screenshots of everything—over a dozen messages—and posted them back into the group, tagging each person who had spread the lies. “Slandering someone is illegal. Expect a lawyer’s letter soon!” After that, most of the people went silent. Some who had been lurking in the chat tried to play peacemaker. “Oh, come on, 609. People were just joking around. No need to take it so seriously.” “Exactly. We all live in the same neighborhood. Let’s just apologize and move on.” I typed furiously in response, “Funny how you all are acting like good Samaritans now. Where were you when these people were slandering me?” Finally, one of my upstairs neighbors couldn’t hold back any longer and tagged me in the chat. “@609, what do you mean by slander? This came straight from your own family. Do you think we’d just make this up?” My family? I instantly thought of Delilah. But even so, it seemed too ridiculous. Why would she do that? At that moment, I wanted to rush over and confront her, but without any evidence, what could I do? I took a deep breath, gathered all the screenshots, and headed to the Atlanta PD – West Precinct. Let the police handle this. When I explained the situation at the station, the officers took it seriously and immediately opened a case. That same night, the neighborhood was in an uproar. Everyone who had participated in the slander was brought in for questioning. The panic was real. One by one, they all tried to distance themselves, passing the blame around until eventually, everything pointed back to Delilah. Some of the neighbors still had the nerve to defend themselves. “Whose family would say such things if they weren’t true? She must have done something to deserve it.” I still couldn’t understand why Delilah would spread such vicious lies about me. I had already moved out, just like she wanted. What more did she want? I was trembling with rage. And then I thought about the faceless account that had started it all. The police traced the IP address back to one place—my parents’ house. They asked me if I wanted to continue pressing charges. I understood that for many, family is reason enough to let things slide. But I didn’t hesitate. “Of course I want to press charges,” I said firmly.

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I was diagnosed with chronic endometriosis, and the doctor said that getting pregnant might ease the symptoms; otherwise, a hysterectomy might be my only option. But ever since Ethan regained his sight, he’s barely touched me. He just gives me a quick kiss on the forehead, saying he’s too tired. I tried to be understanding, figuring he must be worn out from work at Sunset Therapeutics. But then, one night, after he turned over, facing away, I heard him mumble: “You know, maybe you should go to Revive Aesthetics and ask about that laser scar removal thing, see if they can do anything.” I froze. It had been so long since I’d felt that sting of shame, flushing my face hot and cold. But more than shame, I was in shock. Was Ethan… repulsed by my face? My name’s Grace Holloway, and I’m 28 years old. My husband, Ethan Rivers, is a blind massage therapist, three years younger than me. We met through a matchmaker service. I had been burned in a house fire, leaving a scar that stretches down the side of my cheek and neck—a deep, twisting mark that used to make me shudder. I delayed marriage because of it. My parents, traditional as they were, finally encouraged me to use Matchmaker Services and meet Ethan. The matchmaker, thrilled, had told us our names were a match made in poetry. Ethan and Grace—it sounded like a pair meant to be together. “Just think,” she whispered to me, “he’s blind. He can’t even see your scars, so he won’t mind.” Ethan didn’t know about my scars. That made him even more accepting when he heard my background and circumstances. He was gentle and kind, and he had a way with the guitar, playing in the lobby while I’d sing for our clients, my voice unexpectedly clear and ringing. Our regulars even joked we were “the perfect harmony.” Life had closed doors for each of us, but meeting filled what had been missing. To most people, we were both tragic and enviable at the same time, as though we’d each found our soulmate despite fate’s challenges. Ethan hadn’t been blind since birth; an accident in a factory left his eyes permanently damaged from severe light exposure. For years, despite no medical progress, I’d still take him from doctor to doctor, hoping someone could help. After he lost his sight, Ethan learned the art of massage, and I left my job to support him, running the business side of Sunset Therapeutics. “Grace, I love you. I’d give anything to see your face…though I know I never will.” He used to touch my face, tracing my features with gentle fingers, that soft smile of his almost sorrowful. With no family left, I knew I was his only support in the world. Holding his hand to my cheek, I secretly made a promise to myself: I would do everything possible to restore his sight. Maggie, my best friend, warned me in quiet moments that Ethan’s good looks were bound to spell trouble if he ever regained his vision. Sometimes, I worried she might be right. But I’d forget it every time I saw Ethan’s daily struggle. All I wanted was his happiness and peace. One day, as I served him his favorite food—a bit of fried tuna eye, cooked just the way he liked it—I told him softly, “If you could see again, that’d be wonderful. But even if not, isn’t our life good as it is? Being able to see would just be icing on the cake.” Ethan nodded, shyly. He always relied on me without question, never starting a fight. Maybe it was all the prayers, or the endless doctor visits, or maybe even the fish eyes he’d been eating. Because, one day, he could see again. It happened when he accurately reached for a toothpaste tube that had fallen to the floor. Overwhelmed, I waved my hand in front of him. “Ethan, you can really see me?” I was in the kitchen, cooking while wearing a mask to avoid the fumes, as we hadn’t gotten a proper exhaust installed yet to save money. He rubbed his eyes, his excitement spilling into a loud shout. Then he asked me to remove my mask, eager to see me for the first time. “Grace, you don’t know how I’ve dreamed of this moment. Your voice is so sweet…you must be beautiful, I…” I froze, holding onto my mask. It hit me then how terrified I was of him seeing my face. The structure of my features was fine enough, but time had eroded whatever youth I’d once had. And of course, there was that long scar running along my cheek. Before I could think, he’d pulled off my mask, impatient. “Honey!” The ugly scar was exposed in the smoky kitchen air, and time seemed to freeze. My heart sank as I saw, in Ethan’s clear blue eyes, an unmistakable flicker of disappointment. Didn’t he know I’d once been beautiful too? Ignoring the tears prickling my eyes, I turned back to the stove, where the tuna eyes had burned, black and sticky at the bottom of the pan. They looked horribly unappetizing. “Don’t worry about it, honey,” Ethan murmured, wrapping his arms around me from behind and burying his face into my neck. “I still love you. Don’t doubt it.” The tears spilled over then, feeling both relieved and vulnerable in his embrace. Gathering my courage, I told him about my health condition. The doctor had recently diagnosed me with chronic endometriosis, a common issue, he’d said, for women. Getting pregnant might relieve the symptoms; otherwise, surgery might be the only option. The surgery was mostly effective, though it would nearly eliminate my chance of ever having kids. Embarrassed, I explained, “With you being blind all this time, we always used protection. We just didn’t plan on a baby.” There was a hint of longing in my voice, a hope I’d buried until now. I had once prepared myself to be childless my whole life, solely focused on supporting Ethan. He only nodded, barely smiling, though I saw his gaze linger on my scar. In the days that followed, he was more attentive, even helping with the housework. I began trying everything to get pregnant—lying with my legs up against the wall for half an hour each night, drinking herbal teas I could barely stomach. Ethan adjusted quickly to his new life, as if he had never lost his sight at all. But slowly, I began to notice something was off. It all started one evening after a familiar client had come by. Her name was Brittany Monroe. She was around twenty, beautiful, and striking, especially with her exaggerated curves. During one chat, she’d casually mentioned her breast enhancement. “In my line of work, you know, it’s all about looks and body. You have to look the part to work in public relations.” She’d said it without a thought, despite my scarred face. She had chronic back pain and often visited our massage parlor. This time was different though—Ethan could finally see her. It happened to be my ovulation period, and that night, I turned off the lights and tried to reach for him, gently caressing his shoulders. “Ethan…” But he wouldn’t touch me, only kissing my forehead and saying he was too tired. I thought it was because he was overworked, and I understood, nodding my agreement. Then I heard him, turning over, muttering: “You know, maybe you should check in with Revive Aesthetics, see if that laser scar removal thing can do anything.” I was stunned. I hadn’t felt that shame in so long—it flooded my face hot and cold. But above all, I was shocked. Was Ethan repulsed by my face?

Ethan’s vision returned, and he was soon back in his social circles, fitting in as if he’d never left. I, however, became more withdrawn, changing from lively to quiet and distant. I even spent a painful amount on a custom prosthetic skin cover, applying adhesive every day to hide the scar. Every removal hurt like fire, but I didn’t regret it if it helped him see me as a bit more acceptable. “Grace, you’ve got a bit of a people-pleasing problem, don’t you?” Maggie chastised me, exasperated at my blindness to the situation. I stayed calm, as usual. “It’s okay. He’s just excited about seeing again—it’s bound to take some adjustment. Once I get pregnant, things will settle down.” I’d believed that having a baby would bind him to us, keep him from straying. Then, things began to spiral out of control, shattering every last defense I’d held up in our marriage. Ethan stopped showing up at Sunset Therapeutics as often, saying he didn’t want to “fake being blind” anymore. At home, he slipped into his old habits, going back to doing nothing around the house, and soon became glued to his phone and video games. I reminded him that staring at a screen wasn’t good for his newly healed eyes, but he only snapped back at me: “Don’t bother me! I finally get to see, and I want to take in all the beauty I missed. Let me enjoy it.” Beauty, indeed, and not just the beauty of nature. I pursed my lips. He didn’t know I was aware that each night, he’d scroll through social media, liking videos of attractive women. Seeing him prefer those women on a screen over his own wife lying next to him was a wound that bled fresh each time. That evening, as I was heading out, I mentioned offhandedly that Frank Hall and Brittany Monroe would be at the massage parlor, so I’d be going there in person. The moment he heard those names, Ethan suddenly seemed energized, getting on his bike and speeding off ahead of me. Surprised, I raised an eyebrow. He mumbled something about wanting fishing tips from Frank. I nodded, saying nothing, then headed inside to clean the massage tools. Ethan did talk to Frank about fishing tips for a bit, thanking him for all the fish he’d brought over the years. Then I heard the chime of the shop’s door. “Oh, wow, it’s pouring rain out there—I forgot my umbrella. So hot and sticky out,” came Brittany’s voice. She was our regular, the PR girl. Last time, Ethan still pretended to be blind while massaging her. But here he was, acting blind again. “Guess we’re getting a little rain blessing,” he laughed. She giggled, her perfume drifting through the shop as she replied, “Well, if this is rain’s gift, then you can give me my massage.” My instincts kicked in, and I peered through the crack in the door. Brittany was radiant, with designer clothes and flawless makeup. While I doubted she’d fall for Ethan, it wasn’t impossible that he’d fall for her looks. “Ethan, I have to run an errand. I’ll be back soon. Please take care of Brittany’s session,” I told him. Our only other employee had called in sick, so he was alone with her. Ethan didn’t even blink at me as I left. His face seemed flushed, his usual pale complexion touched with red. “Sure thing, honey.” When I left, I made sure to close the door and adjust the blinds, leaving nothing to chance. What he didn’t know was that I’d followed Maggie’s advice and installed a tiny camera to watch the shop’s main area. After leaving, I made my way to a nearby café, where I opened the video feed on my phone. There she was, easing off her black stockings, shrugging out of her jacket to reveal her waistline, and lying down on the massage table. I held my breath, unable to tear my eyes away from the screen. They started talking, laughing, and I saw Ethan remove his gloves, applying the massage oil with his bare hands. Usually, we required gloves for hygiene purposes. Then, my heart stopped at what I saw next. What began as a straightforward massage quickly turned into something more. I could see the blush rising on his face. Brittany moaned softly, “It’s so hot in here. Why don’t you turn on the fan?” I silently willed him to turn on the fan—there were two ceiling fans in the small shop. But he just told her, “The fan’s broken.” Though it wasn’t summer yet, the humidity was still intense, and I was dripping sweat sitting in the café. Brittany muttered, “Oh,” looking visibly uncomfortable in the heat. Then she asked, “Can you actually see?” Ethan shook his head, playing innocent. “No, ma’am. I’m as blind as ever.” “Good, because this heat is killing me.” And then, as I watched, speechless, Brittany casually unbuttoned her blouse, exposing herself to the “blind” massage therapist.

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My boyfriend’s the heir to a corporate empire. He’s pretending to be a poor college student with amnesia, freeloading at my place. My best friend’s told me a hundred times to dump this pretty boy. I always say no. No way I’m breaking up with him. Then one night, I overhear his secretary: “Now that these fish have taken the bait, it’s time to reel them in.” “What about Miss Williams? How will you handle her?” “She’s just a gold digger. A check will be enough to get rid of her.” I almost laugh out loud. I’m finally going to strike it rich. Ethan’s been sneaking out a lot lately. Before he goes, he always cooks me something delicious. Calls me pet names. After I fall asleep, he quietly gets dressed and slips out. What he doesn’t know is I’m not really asleep. Day and night, I’ve been waiting for him to betray me. Tonight, after wearing me out, he puts on his clothes and leaves. It’s the tenth time this month. Even I’m getting impatient. While Ethan’s gone, I throw on some clothes and follow him out. I hide in the stairwell, pressing my ear to the door. Ethan’s voice comes through: “Those old fogies at the company are getting antsy. Time to reel them in.” Another man responds respectfully: “Then young master, how do you plan to deal with Miss Williams?” My heart skips a beat when I hear this. After freeloading off me for so long, using my money and sleeping with me, he better not be planning to just up and leave. Ethan says in a low voice: “She’s just a gold digger. A check will be enough to get rid of her.” The man seems surprised by Ethan’s answer: “Miss Williams has taken care of you for so long. Isn’t it a bit cold to just give her a check?” Ethan sounds annoyed: “What else then? Should I bring her back as your young mistress? Her? A nobody from a no-name school who got a dead-end job at a worthless company? Is she worthy of the Blackwood family?” The man asks again: “Then how much should we write the check for?” Ethan just throws out four words: “Whatever she wants.” Hearing this, I tiptoe back to the room. I can barely contain my excitement as I kick the air a few times. “Whatever she wants” This is truly the sweetest thing I’ve heard in two lifetimes.

That’s right, two lifetimes. Because I’ve been reborn. In my previous life, I also met Ethan pretending to have amnesia at the hospital. Seduced by his good looks, I brought him home. I fed him, clothed him, slept with him. We did spend some happy times together. I thought love was everything back then. Ethan pretended to have amnesia from a car accident due to company infighting. He used this chance to hide and overhaul the Blackwood Group. The day the Blackwood family sent people to pick Ethan up, over a dozen Rolls-Royces drove into my run-down neighborhood. It was quite a spectacle. All the neighbors gathered to watch. I saw Ethan change into a tailored suit and put on a Rolex. He handed me a $5 million check, saying it was to thank me for taking care of him. Back then, I was so focused on Ethan that love was more important than anything. I refused that check. I only wanted to be with Ethan forever. I still remember the look in his eyes. Like he was looking at a stray dog. Contempt. Confusion. Ridicule. Later, Ethan broke up with me. I couldn’t accept it and went to the media to expose our relationship. This gave Ethan a reputation for being cold and unfaithful. As the controversy grew, it caused new turmoil in the Blackwood Group. In the end, under pressure, Ethan proposed to me in public and married me. On the second day of our marriage, I saw headline news of Ethan entering a hotel with a famous model the night before. In the days that followed, Ethan tortured me daily. He said outright that seeing me made him sick. He even bought the media company I’d leaked the story to. He revealed to the public that I was the original whistleblower. In an instant, I went from being seen as a kind-hearted wife to a scheming social climber. Ethan’s cruelty and the online abuse drove me to depression. In the end, I killed myself at home.

When I woke up again, I found myself lying in the same hospital where I first met Ethan. I’d fainted from low blood sugar. Seeing Ethan sweetly calling me “sis”, I rolled my eyes so hard they nearly fell out of my head. This life, I’m going to get that $5 million that’s rightfully mine! Others who are reborn seek revenge. Not me. I just want the money. Sure enough, Ethan did the same as before. He claimed to have amnesia and fell in love with me at first sight. Looking at his chiseled, devastatingly handsome face, I could practically see the words “$5 million” written on it. I rubbed my hands together gleefully and brought him home. Luckily, everything proceeded smoothly along the same path as before. We naturally got together. I was even more attentive to him than in my previous life. Baby’s tired? I’ll give him a shoulder massage. Baby’s hungry? I’ll cook him some food. Baby’s out of money? I’ll transfer him some. Baby wants to sleep with me? No problem, come on then! Even my best friend said I was throwing her under the bus for a man. Seeing how I took care of Ethan, my neighbor went home to complain to his wife that he wasn’t getting enough love. Under my daily affection, my relationship with Ethan heated up. Unlike my past life, Ethan also started learning to cook and take care of me. He often brought me lunch at work, making all my coworkers envious of my attentive puppy boyfriend. Heh, attentive my ass. The dog part is true though. Ever since taking in Ethan and deciding to get that money, my career had been on the rise. I got promoted three times. But I didn’t care about this small change. I wanted that $5 million. My phone suddenly lit up with a message from my best friend, Rachel. This was the 101st time she demanded I break up with Ethan. “Sophie! You have to dump that pretty boy, or we’re not friends anymore! Look at yourself now, obsessed with love. Do you remember our dream of getting rich?” In my past life, Rachel had sent me a similar message. I refused her then because I loved Ethan. This life, I still refused Rachel, but it was for the sake of getting rich! “Rachel, I love Ethan, trust me. But that doesn’t stop us from getting rich. Hurry up and pack your bags, get your passport ready. Your girl’s about to take you flying.” After sending the message, I heard a noise outside the door. Ethan was back. I quickly put down my phone and pretended to be sound asleep. I felt the familiar scent from the side of the bed as he quietly lay down, wrapping his arm around my waist before falling asleep. He may sleep soundly, but I was too excited to sleep because of those four words – “whatever she wants.” The day has finally come! My days of being a slave are over! I’m going to flip the script and sing the song of the common folk!

I had been waiting for this day, watching the stars and counting the months, and another month passed. In my previous life, Ethan had already gone back by this time. Why hasn’t he made a move in this life? When I got home from work and opened the door, I was stunned for a moment. Flowers, balloons, candlelight, food, and music. Um… what’s this? “Sophie, today is the one-year anniversary of our meeting,” Ethan said. I looked at Ethan, all dressed up, not understanding what he was doing. Seeing that I hadn’t reacted, Ethan waved his hand in front of my face. “Sophie, Sophie, what are you thinking about?” I coughed lightly, “I’m thinking about you, of course. Thinking about how much effort my baby put into preparing this surprise for me. I’m so touched I could cry.” I pretended to be deeply moved, nestling into Ethan’s arms and planting a kiss on his chin. Ethan held me tight, rubbing his chin on the top of my head. “For you, this is all I should do.” I pinched my palm hard, the pain bringing tears to my eyes. I looked up at Ethan with misty eyes, “Will you ever not want me? After all, I’m just a nobody from a no-name school, working a dead-end job at a worthless company.” “How could that be possible!” Ethan said firmly. Looking at Ethan’s determined expression, I found it laughable inside. These were the very words you once said. Now you’re putting on this act of undying love, who are you trying to fool? It’s disgusting, truly disgusting to the core. “Really? You really won’t look down on me? Will you marry me? Will we get married?” I pressed on. Hearing my words, Ethan froze for a moment. Heh, man, caught you off guard, didn’t I? “Of course we will,” Ethan replied. I didn’t expect Ethan to agree. If he found me so repulsive, why keep up this charade? He should have gone into acting instead. I lowered my head, pretending to be happy, and buried my face in Ethan’s chest. Ethan pushed me away gently, picking up an exquisite velvet box from the table. Seeing the box, my eyes suddenly lit up. At least the kid knows what he’s doing. It wasn’t all for nothing that I played along with him for a year. Judging by the box, the contents must be quite valuable. “This is for you,” he said. I accepted it with great joy, but when I opened it, I saw a plain red string bracelet. What the hell? Where’s my knife? Is this what the heir to a corporate empire does? Is this how the successor to the Blackwood Group treats me? Are you kidding me? If it weren’t for the habit I’d developed of wearing a fake smile in front of Ethan, I really might have slapped him. “What’s this?” I asked, looking confused as I carefully picked up the red string, examining it closely. Well… it really was just a red string. Not even a gold bead, let alone a silver one. “This is a safety knot I got for you from the temple today. Wear it, and it will keep you safe and sound,” Ethan said. Go to hell! I was cursing Ethan’s eighteen generations of ancestors in my mind, but my face still maintained a touched expression. “Really? I love it so much. You’re so good to me,” I said, hooking my arms around Ethan’s neck and planting a kiss on his lips. Ethan took the opportunity to capture my lips, slowly savoring them like jelly. Another sleepless night followed. In the last moment before I lost consciousness, I was still thinking, this man is so stingy, will he even give me that check?

The next day, I was woken up by a buzz of discussion. I sat up in bed, but Ethan was already gone. I got up, nursing my sore waist, and walked to the window. A whole row of Rolls-Royces downstairs dazzled my eyes. Finally! Finally! The day has come at last. Suddenly, my waist didn’t hurt anymore, my legs weren’t sore anymore, I felt like I could climb five floors in one go. I didn’t even have time to put on my shoes before I flew downstairs. I saw that Ethan had already changed into a well-fitted black suit. His black-rimmed glasses had been replaced with gold-rimmed ones, and on his wrist was a diamond-encrusted Rolex. A crowd of people had gathered in circles around the entrance to the apartment building. Several men dressed as bodyguards approached Ethan, bowing respectfully. Finally, they’re here. You’re finally here. I was so excited I could almost cry, but I still controlled myself, pretending to be scared: “Who are you? Where are you taking my boyfriend?” A man dressed as a secretary pulled my arm away from Ethan. “Miss Williams, please show some self-respect. This is the young master of the Blackwood family, the heir to the Blackwood Group. As a token of appreciation for your care of Mr. Blackwood over the past year, here is a check. You may fill in any amount you wish. Consider it a small gesture from the Blackwood Group.” This voice was the same one I had heard during Ethan’s late-night secret conversation. My lips trembled slightly, tears streaming down uncontrollably. I looked every bit the image of a wife abandoned by her husband. I put my hand back on Ethan’s arm. “Ethan, are you… are you leaving me?”

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One year after my unnatural death, my husband brought his new girlfriend to visit my grave. A neighboring ghost patted my shoulder to comfort me, saying that everyone needs to move on. But I was trembling with fear. Because his new girlfriend… was using my heart. 1 It’s been a year since I died. Lucas would make time every week to visit me, bringing lots of offerings and even flowers. The neighboring ghosts remarked that such devoted men were rare these days. I could only respond with a bitter laugh. Lucas tenderly traced my photo on the tombstone with his thumb, his eyes full of deep contemplation and longing. Who would have thought? This man, who once slept clutching my tombstone, had found a new girlfriend just one week after my death. And they seemed to be getting along splendidly, inseparable. I had seen his new girlfriend before – she was one of his patients, a pretty young woman. When I was alive, she would visit Lucas almost every day. When her heart wasn’t feeling well, she’d come for treatment. When her heart was fine, she’d come for an ECG. She liked Lucas, and continued to pursue him even after learning he was married. Once, while using Lucas’s phone to look something up, I saw a message pop up from her. [Dr. Lin, would you mind having another girlfriend?] Lucas immediately snatched the phone from my hand and replied expressionlessly: [Yes, I would mind.] Lucas wouldn’t cheat during our marriage – I was confident about that. Because he had devoted all his energy to medicine since childhood. It took a lot of effort on my part to finally win him over. During that time, I never saw him fall for anyone else, male or female. Including me. Lucas didn’t love me, I always knew that. He agreed to my proposal only because he was used to having me by his side. But now, Lucas had seamlessly transitioned to a new girlfriend. The girl got out of the car. Her fingernails and lips were no longer purple, so it seemed her congenital heart disease had been cured. They stood hand in hand before my tombstone. “Olivia, I have some good news to tell you. Lucas and I are getting married next month.” “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of him for you.” “I hope you’re happy and at peace over there.” I sat on my tombstone, grinding my teeth in frustration. Lucas was no longer the Lucas I knew. He took a wet wipe from his pocket, lifted the girl’s hand, and carefully cleaned a speck of dust from her index finger. He actually couldn’t bear to let even a single grain of dust from my tombstone touch her. I pinched my arm, feeling sorry for myself. Lucas only stood there for ten minutes before leaving. As they brushed past me, I felt a familiar sensation. It didn’t come from my body, but from Lucas’s new girlfriend. I moved closer to her. I heard a familiar heartbeat – one, two, three… The neighboring ghost patted my shoulder to comfort me, but I froze in place. Because the heart beating in Lucas’s new girlfriend’s chest… was mine. 2 My death wasn’t natural, but only I knew that. On my way from the suburbs to the hospital, someone deliberately crashed into my car. I avoided the first attempt but couldn’t escape the second. It felt like every bone and muscle in my body had been rearranged. Blood was everywhere. With shaking hands, I called Lucas. “…Lucas, I…” “I have an emergency surgery. Can we talk later?” “Goodbye.” I called five or six times, but each call was shorter than the last. Finally, he got impatient and turned off his phone. I was about to die. I wanted to tell him that. But unfortunately, in his heart, I couldn’t compare to one of his surgeries, couldn’t compare to his medical career. He was a doctor who saved lives. He could save everyone, except me. My body was taken to the crematorium by the perpetrator that same day. Two hours later, I was reduced to a handful of ashes. The whole process went unusually smoothly. It wasn’t until after I died that I learned his emergency surgery that day was a heart transplant, and the patient was that young girl. Which meant that in the operating room that day, the beating heart Lucas held… was mine. I watched his gradually receding figure. Suddenly, I was curious. If Lucas knew that in that surgery, he had personally sewn my heart into someone else, would he suddenly break down? 3 The girl had a pretty name – Melody. She chatted excitedly with Lucas, not at all like someone who would say such disturbing things. “Lucas, let me walk the rest of the path with you. I’m sure Olivia would agree.” She raised her hand to cover her heart, smiling smugly. “It’s a good thing I got this. Look, now I not only have a healthy body and a healthy heart, but I also have you.” Lucas smiled at her. I was smiling too, but it was a cold smile. Because my heart wasn’t actually healthy. I had a hereditary heart condition. Only Lucas knew about this, and he had been treating me for it. Under his treatment, my heart pain went from once a week to once a year. By my calculations, Melody should be due for an attack soon. The car quickly stopped at the entrance to their apartment complex. They went home together. It was a 2000 square foot apartment with a cat and a dog – practically my ideal complete home. As soon as the door opened, the cat and dog rushed over. I bit my lip, suddenly feeling worthless. When we first got married, I wanted to keep pets too, but Lucas talked me out of it. He said it was too much work, that I didn’t have time to take care of them. Later, when I found a stray cat, he advised against keeping it too. He said the cat had feline distemper and ringworm. But now, Lucas was gazing at Melody playing with the cat and dog, lost in thought. I don’t know if it was my heart responding to my emotions, but Melody suddenly pressed her hand to her chest. Her face turned a bit pale. “Lucas, I feel like I can’t breathe properly.” Lucas snapped out of his daze. He tilted his head quizzically and offered an explanation. “Could it be because the cat is shedding heavily?” He pointed at the ragdoll cat on the floor. I looked at him in surprise. Lucas had a PhD and was practically an expert in his field. Moreover, he had always known the symptoms of my attacks. How could he say something so unprofessional? Melody stood up from the floor and moved away from the cat, trying to take deep breaths. But it was useless. After the chest tightness came radiating pain from the heart. Sure enough, Melody hunched over, her brows furrowed tightly, afraid to move. She had never experienced this kind of pain before. Tears streamed down her face. She panicked: “Lucas, my whole chest hurts so much now.” “Is there something wrong with my heart?” Lucas walked over unhurriedly. He came to Melody’s side and comforted her. “It’s nothing, don’t overthink it.” “In your condition, it’s just a stitch. It’ll pass on its own in a while.” I was even more surprised. This kind of pain would indeed disappear after a while, as Lucas said, but without medication, it would hurt again the next day. Lucas couldn’t possibly not know this. A few minutes later, Melody’s pain did subside. Lucas gave her a white pill. He wiped the sweat from her brow. “It’s a sedative. You’ve only had your heart transplant for a year, you need more rest.” Melody took the pill and went to bed. I saw Lucas standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, playing with a white pill bottle in his hand. I recognized it, even knew it well. Because that pill bottle contained my heart medication, which Lucas had given me back then. Could it be that he had discovered the heart in Melody’s chest was mine? 4 The next day, Melody woke up. “Lucas, it’s so good to have you. I love you so much.” I saw her stand on tiptoe, as if wanting to kiss Lucas, but the next second she pressed her left chest again. Ten hours had passed, and she was having another attack. No matter how slow she was, she should realize by now that these symptoms were very similar to mine. The white pill bottle had long been thrown into the trash by Lucas and sent to the garbage station, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry. Instead, he gently patted Melody’s back. When she felt a little better, he suggested, “Let’s go to the hospital for a check-up.” Lucas drove. They left at 9 AM and didn’t arrive at the hospital until 1

By the time they did the physical examination, Melody’s heart pain had long subsided. The test results also showed that her heart was healthy. With Lucas personally overseeing the examination, Melody was reassured. I watched as Lucas, with infinite tenderness, raised his hand to caress Melody’s cheek. But what he said next was unexpected. “Melody, since everything’s fine, you should go home first.” “I have to do rounds later, and there’s a surgery in the afternoon.” “Your heart still needs rest. On our wedding day, I’ll definitely make our relationship public.” I was stunned. Lucas hadn’t made their relationship public. But that made sense. After all, becoming romantically involved with your patient would be quite unethical for a doctor. Melody’s eyes dimmed. She left, looking back every few steps. Lucas was indeed very busy after that. He went with several doctors to check on patients in various wards. After finishing in the morning, Lucas hurriedly ate lunch and was about to go into surgery. I followed him into the operating room, seeing for the first time what he looked like holding a scalpel. I had always known that his hands were called “miraculous”. Every surgery he performed had never failed. But now, these holy hands trembled slightly at the moment of suturing. 5 The surgery was successful. I heard others discussing quietly. “Did Dr. Lin’s hand shake just now? Is he too tired?” “Luckily nothing went wrong.” “You newcomers don’t know. A year ago around this time, Dr. Lin’s wife was killed in a car accident. He had just finished surgery and ran to the funeral home without even changing his clothes.” “So many people have tried to set him up, but he refused them all. Ah, it’s the first time I’ve seen such pure love in real life.” I laughed at how young and naive they were, thinking everyone was capable of pure love. Lucas wasn’t refusing others, he had already found someone. For example, right now, as soon as the surgery was over, he eagerly opened his phone. The latest message was from Melody. [Lucas, which hotel are we going to tonight? I’m waiting for you.] Followed by two shy emojis. They were both adults. A year was enough time for them to develop a more intimate relationship. But to my surprise, Lucas replied: [I’m tired. I’m going home first.] He meant our home. The door opened. The furniture in the room was still the same as before, even the photos hanging on the wall were still there – all pictures of me and Lucas traveling to various places. I stared at them, lost in thought. But he showed no emotional reaction. The house still used smart lights. As soon as the door opened, the lights automatically turned on. The aroma of food wafted through the entire living room, seemingly from nowhere. Lucas casually took off his coat and hung it on the rack. He blurted out: “Sister, I’m home. What’s for dinner tonight?” I was stunned. So was he. I was two years older than Lucas. Due to my heart condition, I started school two years later than him. Lucas liked to call me “sister”, and I loved his cool voice when he did. But now, I was angry. How had I never realized before? Although he called me “sister” verbally, combined with what he said next, how was it any different from calling out “Mrs. Wang”? Lucas was silent for a moment. He raised his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. His eyelashes, like crow feathers, lowered, concealing the emotions in his eyes. The lights in the room were warm, but he stood at the doorway, his back slightly bent, his tall figure giving off a sense of lonely silence. If I had seen him like this before, I would have felt heartbroken. But now, I just wanted to laugh coldly. After all, I had lost my life. Shouldn’t he be sighing and reminiscing every day, heartbroken for a lifetime? 6 Lucas’s emotional change was very brief. In the following days, he returned to being the steady, emotionless Dr. Lin that people knew. Melody often came to see him, and sometimes they would go out on dates at night. Melody’s smile grew brighter each day. She was about to get married. “Lucas, are you coming to my place tonight?” She hooked her finger into Lucas’s palm. “My dad wants to discuss our wedding plans with you.” Lucas nodded in agreement. The car stopped in front of a mansion. The driver opened the door, and a butler came to greet them. I suddenly understood. Melody was rich, a wealthy heiress. She had the financial means to give Lucas better resources. But I was different. Lucas and I were both from orphanages, with no money or background. We even had to fight for the opportunity to study. During the most difficult times, we ate instant noodles for a month in our rented room. Fortunately, I later earned some money, enough to cover our expenses and financially support him through his master’s, doctorate, and studies abroad. But this money ultimately couldn’t compare to that of a rich heiress. What I thought was the sweetness after bitterness was just what he considered a matter of course. Melody’s father was a kindly old man. After dinner, he patted Lucas’s shoulder, gesturing for him to go to the living room to discuss matters. Melody held Lucas’s hand, full of reluctance. The old man chuckled: “Don’t worry, I’m just borrowing your lover for a bit. Your dad is leaving too, how come you’re not reluctant to see me go, you little ingrate.” Melody bit her lip sheepishly. I followed them to the living room. The old man smiled: “Lucas, I heard that a year ago in the operating room you performed surgery on, my daughter had a massive hemorrhage. You stood there for six hours straight and saved her life. I’m very grateful.” “It was my duty.” After Lucas stated his position, the old man didn’t beat around the bush. But their next conversation shocked me. “Your ex-wife didn’t have heart disease, did she?” “Little Melody cried and insisted on having her heart, and she happened to be a universal donor, so I found someone to… But you also benefited from misfortune. My daughter fell for you. Once you marry into our family, you’ll have plenty of money and power in the future.” “No one will look down on you for being an orphan anymore.” They were essentially laying all their cards on the table. Half of Lucas’s face was hidden in shadow. The light and shadow on his face outlined his features, making his expression seem both angry and indifferent. He slowly raised his hand. The old man stared at him unblinkingly, wanting to know what his attitude would be. I stared at him too, wanting to know how he would react. 7 Lucas raised his hand and placed it in front of the old man. His back was slightly hunched. “Father-in-law.” The old man laughed heartily, saying “good” several times. I knew reality wasn’t like novels. Many people discard their conscience for money. I just never thought Lucas would be one of them. He had completely abandoned his professional ethics as a doctor. The young man I loved no longer existed. Lucas knew about my unnatural death. I thought he would at least report it to the police, considering our 30-year relationship. But not only did he not do that, he even joined the team of murderers who killed me, becoming their son-in-law. Lucas might have felt guilty. He left the Johnson house and drove to the cemetery. He stood in front of my tombstone, doing nothing, just standing there. As night fell, many mourners had already left the cemetery, but Lucas sat down on the ground. He hugged my tombstone and fell asleep like this. The first time he did this was five days after I was buried. At that time, seeing him sleep all night hugging my tombstone, I felt both heartbroken and happy. I thought that after 30 years of persistence, I had finally broken through his cement-like exterior and touched his heart. I didn’t expect that he was just feeling guilty, because that day was when he got together with Melody. Now he was using the same trick again. But this time, I only felt disgusted and upset.

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