Category: English

Gabriel Thompson was known in our social circle as “Mr. Yes-Dear.” Everything his wife said was right, everything she did was right. If anything wasn’t right, it was his fault. Everyone envied how I had married so well, until our anniversary party, when I smashed a bottle over his secretary’s head. “Mr. Yes-Dear” turned on me in front of everyone. “Either apologize or get a divorce. Choose one!” I smiled contentedly. “Well then, I wish you two all the best together!” As everyone stared at me in confusion, Scarlett Quinn, the secretary, fell to her knees in front of me. “Mrs. Thompson, please don’t misunderstand! I really haven’t seduced Mr. Thompson!” Her tear-filled eyes held a mixture of pleading and undisguised provocation. Just like before, when she had deliberately let me see her intimate encounters with Gabriel Thompson. The guests quickly reacted, laughing as they tried to mediate. “Mrs. Thompson, everyone knows how much Mr. Thompson loves you. Why fixate on this little secretary? Am I right, everyone?” A chorus of agreement followed, with smirks on their faces at my apparent overreaction. Yes, in their eyes, I was the CEO’s wife who got everything she wanted. With just a crook of my finger, my husband would fly across the country daily, just to hand-deliver grapes he’d picked himself to satisfy my cravings. He would also buy out an entire city’s fireworks and set them off in an instant when I was upset, his thunderous apologies drowning out all other sounds. They envied me to death, but behind my back they said I was just a pretty face with no substance, wondering how I deserved such an elite man. I don’t blame them for being foolish. If anyone’s to blame, it’s Gabriel Thompson for being such a good actor, playing the role of devoted husband for eight years. Little did they know that behind Mr. “Yes-Dear’s” public persona, his heart belonged solely to his right-hand woman, Scarlett Quinn. He had said before that he could give up anyone, except her. Today, I finally confirmed this point with my own hands. I turned my head slowly, looking at the angry man, and spoke softly. “Mr. Thompson, is that what you think too?” The man’s lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze cold and distant as if looking at a stranger. He didn’t answer my question directly, but instead picked up the secretary and carried her away. The guests who had been mocking me moments ago suddenly froze in disbelief, watching as the man fussed over the woman in his arms. “Don’t be afraid, Scarlett. As long as I’m here, no one will bully you!” That caring tone stabbed into my ears, more like a warning telling me not to cause trouble. But after eight years of playing the role of dutiful wife, I was tired of this fake life. I went up on stage and tore off the cover on the banner, pointing at the words “Divorce Anniversary” and raising my glass to the crowd. “Welcome everyone to my divorce party. Cheers!” In that moment, I felt no despair at being abandoned by my husband, but rather a long-awaited sense of relief. Because I had been waiting for this day for eight whole years. Finally, finally, I was free. How wonderful. Just as I was celebrating my escape from this cage, someone cried out. “Mr. Thompson jumped into the sea!” The next day, news of the Thompson Group CEO jumping into the sea for love flooded the entire media landscape of Kingston City. Uninformed netizens unanimously praised the CEO’s deep love, while condemning me, his “trophy wife,” for being cold and heartless. Meanwhile, the guests who had witnessed Gabriel Thompson’s infidelity and departure with his secretary at the yacht party yesterday now flooded me with messages of comfort. “See? Mr. Thompson still cares about you, otherwise he wouldn’t have jumped into the sea, right? He knows he was wrong, so why don’t you forgive him this once?” If it weren’t for the emotional video Scarlett Quinn sent me, perhaps I too would have thought Gabriel Thompson’s words were just a momentary slip. In the video, the shivering man tightly embraced the woman, constantly stroking her hair, his eyes full of tenderness. “It’s okay, everything will be fine. I won’t let you become a mistress that everyone despises!” Yes, he, a man afraid of water, would rather jump into the sea to create news than let her face people’s strange looks. He really loved her to death. This was his hot and cold love. After a night of drinking, I stumbled as I opened the door and fell to the ground, the pain making it hard to breathe. A cold voice broke the silence in the darkness. “Sophia Sullivan, I’ve already given you the position of Mrs. Thompson. What more do you want?” Yes, when he knelt before me and proposed so passionately, he publicly promised that the position of Mrs. Thompson would belong to me alone. At the time, I was blinded by love, completely ignoring that his affectionate gaze was directed at the tearful secretary beside me. He was using actions to tell her that I would only get an empty title. Scarlett Quinn was his true love, etched into his bones. I had argued and fought, asking him over and over if he had any feelings for me in his heart. He always looked at me coldly, without a hint of warmth. “As long as you don’t touch her, you’ll always be the one I love most.” What a cruel answer, piercing me to the core, making me realize he had never loved me. Before I could respond, a strong grip seized my wrist, pulling me over to his side. His slender fingers skillfully picked up the iodine and wiped my scratched cheek. I tried to turn away, but he held me firmly in place. “Mrs. Thompson, your face belongs to the Thompson Group too. It wouldn’t be good if it got marred.” Yes, there was a pre-arranged dinner tomorrow where the other party had specifically requested my presence. How could the CEO’s wife appear with a blemished face? I opened my mouth and bit down, breaking through his tough skin, channeling all my grievances and resentment as I swallowed the blood that both fascinated and disgusted me. The man’s hand bones trembled slightly, but he made no move to stop me. Only when my jaw ached and swelled did I let go on my own. He then gripped my chin, forcing me to look up. “Sophia, this is the last time. This is the last time I’ll tolerate you. Don’t push it!” He covered his hand as he turned to go upstairs. At the last moment, he paused and looked back at me. “Remember to cover up your wound with makeup tomorrow. I don’t want any more negative news about the Thompson CEO’s marital problems!” My fingertips dug into my flesh. I couldn’t hold back anymore and called out to him. “Mr. Thompson, have you forgotten what you said yesterday? Didn’t you say we were getting divorced?” Weren’t you going to let me go? The man didn’t respond, just kept walking forward step by step. I took a step forward, waving the blood-stained photos in my hand, and laughed. “Your precious darling is in my hands. Aren’t you afraid I’ll do something to her?” Almost instantly, the man reflexively appeared in front of me, grabbing my neck, his eyes bloodthirsty and turbulent. “Sophia Sullivan, tell me, what exactly did you do to Scarlett?!” I looked at the man who had lost control of his emotions with a light laugh, the corners of my mouth curving upwards, but I didn’t say a word. The force on my neck gradually deepened and intensified. In my ears was the man’s uncontrolled roar. “Sophia Sullivan, if anything happens to Scarlett, I’ll make sure you pay with your life!” Pay with my life? That’s fine. At least I won’t have to struggle in this hypocritical world anymore. Since he won’t let me leave, perhaps death is my best escape. I closed my eyes, waiting for death to come. But my phone rang at the most inopportune moment. The man answered it with one hand, and the woman’s habitual mockery filled my ears. “Sophia Sullivan, how do you like the big gift I sent you? Gabriel held me and took me again and again last night, while you spent another night alone in an empty room, right? How about I help you talk to Gabriel tonight, let him keep you company for one night, what do you say?” The force on my neck suddenly withdrew, and I fell heavily to the ground. The wound that had just been injured was hurt again, blood flowing everywhere. A burst of heat suddenly entered the cold air, scalding to the touch. “Sophia Sullivan, wake up! Without my permission, you’re not allowed to die!” How laughable that he doesn’t know I’d rather die than live a life worse than death. Gabriel Thompson, this time, he won’t be able to keep me. I woke up groggily in the hospital to see Gabriel Thompson slumped at my bedside, his tightly furrowed brow indicating his anxiety. Actually, when I was drifting in and out of consciousness earlier, I heard him calling out to me. “Sophia Sullivan, didn’t you say you loved me? Then you have to live, live on and love me well!” I used to think that way too, to just keep loving him. But time is a butcher’s knife, wearing away all my patience and love, also letting me see my true heart clearly. It’s not worth wasting my youth on a man who doesn’t love me. A gust of wind blew into my collar, and the man suddenly woke up. Seeing me awake, he was strangely excited. “You… you’re awake?!” Seeing that I didn’t speak, the man picked up a glass of water nearby to cover his awkwardness. “I’ve already talked to Scarlett about yesterday’s incident. Don’t worry, she… she won’t come bother you again in the future.” “You know, you really… getting angry is one thing, but why scare me with some random photo from the internet? You made me think… sigh, never mind, it’s all in the past. From now on, can we go back to how we were before, no more fighting, okay?” He brought the warm water to my lips, but was startled by the ghastly scars revealed on my arms as I pushed up my sleeves. “Who… who hurt you, Sophia? Tell me, who did this?!” It was rare to see panic and shock in the man’s eyes. Is he pitying me? But where was he when I needed him most as I hurt myself during depressive episodes? What was he doing when I was covering my scars with thick foundation? Right, he was laughing and chatting with his secretary, debating whether to have Chinese or Western for dinner, agonizing over whether to go to Northern Europe or South America. Every meeting and business trip became an excuse for their workplace romance. No one cared that I, the real CEO’s wife, was struggling painfully in the abyss. I slowly broke free from his restraint and said to his face, word by word: “I did it to myself. If you don’t let me go, next time it might be aimed here.” I slid my finger across my neck, and the man’s dark pupils trembled slightly along with it. He suddenly gripped my hand and forcefully pulled it down. “Sophia, I’m sorry. I can give you anything you want except divorce…” “Then can you break up with Scarlett Quinn?” “Crash—” The water glass nearby fell to the ground, shattering to pieces. I looked up at him and laughed freely. “See, you can’t do this either, can you?” The man’s face sank in an instant. His hands gripped my shoulders, digging into my flesh. “Sophia Sullivan, why do you have to force me? After being the CEO’s wife for so many years, have you learned nothing but threats and coercion?” “I’ve also learned to give up. Give up on loving you, Gabriel Thompson. I don’t love you anymore. Let go!” The fingers on my shoulders suddenly froze. The man’s face couldn’t stop trembling, his gaze toward me unclear and ambiguous. His dry lips twitched for a moment, about to question further, when his assistant rushed in urgently. “It’s bad, something’s happened to Secretary Quinn!” The man hurriedly left, but I grabbed his wrist. “Maybe I can help you this time.” But what responded to me was the man’s contemptuous mockery. “Sophia Sullivan, apart from being a pretty ornament, I really can’t see what other use you have…” The man left with a cold gust of wind. I didn’t try to stop him, but instead took out my phone and made a call. “Mr. Shen, I’ll be over shortly.” I’d like to see how his supposedly omnipotent secretary will get out of this predicament. Outside the top VIP room of “Nightshade,” the door was ajar. Seeing the mess on the floor and the blood-covered man, I could guess what had just happened. No doubt it was the classic scenario of a protective boss taking a knife for his subordinate, playing out the hero saving the damsel in distress. Only this time, he’d run into the notoriously difficult Samuel Shen. “Gabriel Thompson, let me tell you, your secretary’s delay of documents causing me to lose a multi-million dollar project is a small matter. Making my Shen Group bear the name of being untrustworthy is a big deal. I’m telling you, this isn’t over!” Sitting in the position of power, Samuel Shen looked down his nose, unwilling to budge no matter what Gabriel Thompson did. Seeing that begging was futile, the woman suddenly climbed onto a nearby window, shouting that she would jump. Gabriel Thompson was anxious, but as he leapt forward, he was restrained. Samuel Shen snorted coldly, and his two bodyguards approached step by step, frightening the woman into screaming repeatedly for them not to come closer. “What are you yelling for? Didn’t you say you wanted to die to make amends? I’m just helping you along. Go ahead and jump. If you die, maybe you’ll be reborn as a better person in your next life!” “Samuel, don’t touch her! I can give you anything you want!” “If I say I want the entire Thompson Group, will you give it to me?” This time the man didn’t respond. Not because he was unwilling, but because Thompson Group didn’t belong to Gabriel Thompson alone. He simply couldn’t make that decision. Samuel Shen urged again, and the bodyguard grabbed the woman’s arm. The woman’s legs gave way and she slid to the ground, desperately hugging the man’s leg and begging, only to be kicked away. “What trash, a real man wouldn’t cling to someone’s leg. Disgusting!” I coughed lightly and pushed open the door. Samuel Shen’s eyes lit up when he saw me, and he got up to make room. “Sophia Sullivan, does this mean you’ve agreed to my request?” I tilted my head to look at Gabriel Thompson, answering indirectly. “That depends on whether Mr. Thompson can agree to my request.” The man looked at the ashen-faced man on the ground, then turned to look at me, seemingly making a huge decision as he gritted his teeth and nodded. “As long as you can get Samuel Shen to calm down, anything you want.” I took out the divorce agreement I had prepared in advance from my bag and handed it over. Emotions roiled in the man’s eyes. “Sophia Sullivan, you really are calculating. Fine, I’ll give you what you want.” He broke free from the bodyguards’ restraint, took the pen without hesitation, and signed. He left carrying the secretary in front of everyone, but not forgetting to remind me. “Sophia Sullivan, don’t disappoint me, or you know the consequences.” Of course, of course I know the consequences. But having walked through hell, I won’t make the same mistake twice. I closed the door with my own hands, silently mouthing to the man through the crack. “Gabriel Thompson, I’m not just a pretty face. I never was.”

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Because I caused my sister’s death, I was the one my parents loathe the most. “You’re so cruel. Why wasn’t you who died instead?” “Don’t call me Mom! From this moment on, I’m not your mother. You have no parents anymore. Get out!” They threw me out of the house and welcomed a girl they had been supporting financially for years. A few years later, that girl developed kidney failure. To save her, my mother, an unflinching internal medicine doctor, took one of my kidneys without hesitation. My father, a high-ranking executive assistant, refused to cover my medical expenses. After the surgery, I was forced to leave the hospital alone, weak and in pain. Just hours after the procedure, my brain tumor acted up. I collapsed in a filthy garbage dump, abandoned and forgotten. That was where I died, helpless, unnoticed, and erased from their lives. I was dead, yet the pain in my lower back continued to grip my soul like a vice. My spirit drifted helplessly back to the hospital. Inside, my mother, Holly Bailey, and father, Neil Bailey, were at Melody Carter’s bedside, their faces full of worry. They had never looked at me like that. When they looked at me, their expressions were always cold and filled with disdain. “You’re so annoying. Can’t you just get lost? Don’t come looking for me again. I’ve already done enough for you.” As I was dragged out of the house, I heard Holly’s voice behind me. “Good thing Yvette’s kidney was a match for Melly. It’s the only useful thing that waste of space ever did.” Three hours earlier, Holly had taken my kidney with her own hands. She hadn’t allowed anesthesia, calling it punishment. Machines pinned me to the operating table, leaving me with no way to escape. The pain tore through me, leaving me writhing helplessly. Holly spoke, her words sharp and merciless. “This is what you get for killing your sister, Coral. You deserve this. It is the price you must pay.” Neil stood by, watching in silence as he handed her the scalpel. For years, I had believed I was the one responsible for my sister’s death. But as the agony of losing my kidney consumed me, a missing memory surfaced. I had not pushed Coral into the water. It had been Melody, the girl my parents had supported all those years.

Sometimes, I thought the truth might not matter. My parents hated me, and that seemed to be enough. Even so, I forced myself to make a call to Neil. My voice trembled as I told him the truth. When he heard, he laughed coldly, his voice dripping with mockery. “Liar. Do you really think I would believe something like that? How could I have a daughter like you? Melly is perfect. She would never do something like that. Only you could.” People’s biases were like mountains. They were unmovable. The mountain of hatred in Neil’s heart had been there for years. When I asked for help with my hospital bills, he refused. “Dad, I don’t have any money,” I said, my voice weak. “You’re lying again. Don’t you work part-time jobs? You just don’t want to spend your own money.” He didn’t know, or maybe he didn’t care, that all my money had gone to medicine. Years of malnutrition and stress had given me stomach cancer. I didn’t have long to live anyway. When I showed him my medical report, hoping he would finally understand, he glanced at it, frowned, and tore it into pieces. “Do you think I have time for these stupid tricks? I’m busy. I don’t get sick, so why would you? Did you fake this? If you really have stomach cancer, then go die.” Now I was dead. In the end, it wasn’t cancer that killed me. It was the infection from the surgery. When I told him I had spent all my money, his only response was, “Then go sell your body.”

The nurse called Holly to inform her that I was missing. “Yvette is gone. She was supposed to be in her hospital bed, but she’s nowhere to be found.” Holly frowned, her tone dismissive. “If she’s gone, she’s gone. What do you expect me to do about it?” When Melody had gone missing once, Holly had turned the entire world upside down to find her. This time, she did not care because I did not matter. Jack Scott, a doctor too, who was nearby, seemed concerned. “Why was she even in the hospital? The last time I saw her, she didn’t look well at all. Her lips were pale. How could you, as her mother, not notice?” Even strangers sometimes defended me. Holly cut him off before he could continue. “Do you even know what she’s done? My husband and I disowned her a long time ago. If she’s missing, it’s just another one of her games to get our attention. It’s all she knows how to do.” Their neglect had pushed me deeper into depression. I had often thought about leaving this world completely. Sometimes, I disappeared for days, wanting to sever every connection to anyone who cared. I had tried to jump or harm myself, but every time, teachers or classmates found me and brought me back. I had felt guilty for troubling them. That wouldn’t happen again. Jack seemed furious this time. “She’s just a child. How can you be so indifferent? Every time she comes to find you, she waits outside your office for hours, afraid to disturb you.” “I don’t want to see her,” Holly said coldly. “Even if she’s upset, she can’t have gone far. Are you going to look for her or not? Not unless she’s dead, and I need to bury her body.” Jack looked at her in disbelief. “I thought doctors were supposed to have compassion, but if this is how you treat your own daughter, then I can only imagine how little you care about your patients.” “This is not the same thing,” Holly snapped. Jack stormed out, his anger obvious. I felt guilty for causing their argument. They wouldn’t have fought if it weren’t for me. After Neil refused to pay my hospital bills, the nurses tried to reassure me. “No parents would abandon their child. Stay here. They’ll help you eventually.” But I knew they wouldn’t. I understood my parents better than anyone. To avoid causing trouble for the hospital, I staggered out of the ward on my own. I could hear the nurse calling after me. “Wait. You’re still bleeding. When did this patient even have surgery? It’s not on the schedule.” Now I was gone. I wouldn’t bother anyone again.

They waited outside the room, anxious and uneasy. Holly looked nervous, which was rare for her. “I performed the surgery myself. What if something goes wrong?” Neil reassured her as best he could. “Everything will be fine. Melly is a lucky girl.” Floating above them, I saw Melody sleeping peacefully under a neatly folded blanket. Her wound had been stitched with care. She had been raised with love and attention, but I had not. When Holly stitched my wound, it had been rushed and careless, as if spending any more time on me was a waste. A nurse approached hesitantly. “Dr. Bailey, there are still patients waiting to see you.” “Cancel them all,” Holly said. “I need to focus on Melly. Nothing else matters right now.” “But some of them traveled from far away,” the nurse protested. “Then let them wait. Or see someone else. I don’t care.” Holly rarely showed this level of emotion. She was usually the perfect professional, responding to patients like a machine. But when Melody was sick, she lost all composure. The nurse eventually gave up and left. Holly asked about me as if I were an afterthought. Neil casually mentioned that he had not paid my bills. “Good,” Holly replied. They began planning how to spend the money they had saved. They ordered gifts for Melody: flowers, toys, and dolls. The packages arrived quickly and piled up in a colorful heap, enough to fulfill any child’s dreams. But all I could think about was sitting by the garbage dump. I remembered seeing a little girl tossing her old teddy bear into the trash. She had glanced at me with disgust as she walked away. I had never owned a toy. For a moment, I wanted to crawl over and hug that bear. But I stopped myself. The bear’s fur was torn and dirty, but its eyes were still bright. Someone like me did not deserve something so beautiful.

They were still brainstorming what else Melody might like. Finally, Neil clapped his hands, his face lighting up with an idea. “Melly has always wanted to be our real daughter. Why don’t we make it official and adopt her?” Holly immediately praised the idea, urging him to hurry home and grab the necessary documents. Just as Neil left, a nurse rushed over, visibly flustered. “Dr. Bailey, Yvette isn’t playing a trick this time. Several people saw her leaving on her own. She just had surgery. Where could she have gone? There’s blood everywhere, too. The cleaning crew is scrubbing it up right now.” From the third-floor railing, the trail of blood was clearly visible. It stretched all the way from the hospital to the street outside. The cleaning crew worked tirelessly, hunched over as they tried to scrub the mess away. I felt guilty for causing them so much trouble. But I couldn’t stop the blood from pouring out of me. It just kept flowing and flowing, soaking into the floor. Even I felt scared as if my body was losing every drop it had ever held. Holly waved off the nurse impatiently, her expression full of irritation. “Don’t tell me about her anymore! This is ridiculous. Why is everyone so concerned about her? It would be better for everyone if she just died already. The world would finally be peaceful. Am I her mother, or are you? Don’t you think I know her better than anyone? It’s just another one of her stupid performances.” The nurse hesitated but eventually turned and left. Jack appeared moments later, striding down the hallway with anger etched across his face. He stopped in front of Holly, holding a stack of papers in his hands, disbelief evident in his voice. “You took your own daughter’s kidney to save your foster daughter?” He waved the papers at her. “If I hadn’t checked the operating room logs and noticed the discrepancies, I wouldn’t have figured it out. Do you realize it’s illegal to remove someone’s organ without proper authorization? Not to mention, she’s your daughter. Where is your humanity?” Jack had reviewed the security footage, where he saw me writhing in pain during the surgery. The memory seemed to weigh heavily on him, his anger mixing with genuine sorrow. He truly felt sorry for me. Holly, visibly flustered, regained her composure quickly and pulled out a signed organ donation agreement. “This was Yvette’s decision. She signed it herself. I didn’t force her.” She wasn’t lying. She had thrown the blank document in front of me and said, “Melody needs a kidney, and yours is a match. If you have any conscience left, you’ll know what to do.” I stared at the bold letters on the form, trembling as I instinctively touched my lower back. My hesitation lasted only a moment before Holly let out a cold laugh. “Of course, you’re just as heartless as I thought. Killing your sister wasn’t enough; now you want to watch your younger sister die, too? It’s just a kidney. You still have another one. Nobody’s asking you to give your life. I should never have had any hope for you.” The disappointment in her eyes cut me like knives, each word stabbing deeper until I felt like my heart had been torn apart. She hadn’t forced me to sign the document or press my thumbprint, but the weight of her expectations crushed me like a storm. Jack’s voice rose, trembling with fury. “You’re her mother. How could she possibly refuse you? Even if she signed the agreement, where is the hospital record of it? Did anyone here authorize this? And performing surgery on your own family member without proper approval violates medical ethics.” Holly faltered, her confidence wavering. She avoided his gaze but quickly found an excuse. “There’s an exchange conference next week, and the hospital is sending me as the representative. I have an internal medicine paper being published soon as well. Do you think the hospital can afford to lose me right now?” Jack’s eyes widened with shock. Holly sensed her advantage and softened her tone. “Let me make a deal with you. Once Melly wakes up, I’ll go look for Yvette. She wouldn’t want her mother to lose her job, would she?” Jack clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His anger erupted as he stomped the ground in frustration. “I regret ever being your teacher.” He turned and stormed away. For a moment, something flickered in Holly’s eyes, but it disappeared just as quickly. She frowned in irritation and muttered under her breath. “That old fool really thinks he’s important.” She shook her head and sighed, her voice filled with disdain. “And Yvette Bailey, always making my life harder.”

Meanwhile, Neil returned home to grab the adoption documents. On his way back, he passed by the garbage dump and hesitated for a moment as if something had caught his attention. He frowned and made a call, dialing my number. When I didn’t answer, he angrily sent a text message. Neil: [Yvette, haven’t you caused enough trouble? Come back already. Isn’t this all just about money? Fine, I’ll pay your hospital bill. For someone your age, you’re unbelievably manipulative.] He still thought I was just throwing a tantrum. If he had taken even a moment to sift through the trash, he would have found my body. It was right there, buried in the heap before him. I could see my foot sticking out, hidden beneath a crumpled bag of chips. Instead, he spit on the ground in frustration and walked away. When he returned to the hospital, Melody had already woken up. She lay on the bed, pale but smiling softly. Neil’s face lit up, and he rushed to her side. Holly placed a pile of toys and flowers around her bed. Melody’s face brightened with joy as she exclaimed, “Thank you so much!” Neil smiled and said, “We have an even bigger surprise for you.” He pulled out the documents and asked gently, “Would you like to become our daughter officially? You can call us Mom and Dad from now on.” For a man who had faced countless high-pressure situations as an executive assistant, he looked uncharacteristically nervous. Even Holly appeared anxious. “Melly, you don’t think we’re unworthy, do you?” Tears filled Melody’s eyes as she choked out her reply. “No, I just feel… so happy.” The three of them hugged tightly, their faces glowing with warmth and joy. I watched from above, feeling a hollow ache in my chest. Blood ties were supposed to be the strongest bonds in the world, but for me, they had only left me wounded and bleeding. If I hadn’t been their child, perhaps I could have run far away, free from the chains of my family. Holly mentioned that the hospital room was too shabby and suggested transferring Melody to a high-class suite. Suddenly, a piercing scream echoed from the garbage dump below. “There’s a body!” “It’s a corpse!” They were too far away to hear it. A nurse rushed over to my parents and said urgently, “We found Yvette. She was in the garbage dump. The body they discovered is hers.”

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My Stepmother is a famous poison widow. People say my stepmother is a notorious poison widow. I’ve heard she’s responsible for the deaths of her two ex-husbands and my father. When my dad died, she wasted no time in having him cremated. When my father’s mistress showed up with her son to claim inheritance, they were all shocked. My stepmother sat cross-legged on the sofa, counting money with a gleeful smile. “I’ve hit the jackpot! This money will last me a lifetime,” she exclaimed. I hid behind the dining table, not daring to make a sound. When relatives came to adopt me, I was still undecided. Suddenly, floating comments appeared before my eyes. [The plot’s moving so fast! The heroine’s about to be taken away by relatives to be mistreated. I can’t wait!] [These relatives are evil. After getting the money, they’ll sell the heroine to some remote village.] [That’s nothing. All the hardships she endures as a child will be compensated by the male lead’s love later. A pure, innocent flower growing in adversity, meeting her savior when she grows up. So sweet!] Me: ?? Whose story is this miserable? Can I still cling to my stepmother’s leg?

My father recently married a new wife. I hid in the shadows, watching this new stepmother with her charming smile and radiant beauty. I finally understood why my father married her. Even knowing she was rumored to have caused the deaths of two ex-husbands, he still wanted to marry her. Just for that face, it was worth it. These men all thought they were victorious in winning a beautiful wife. Unfortunately, they all ended up dead. My father died just two short months after the wedding. Some people suspected my stepmother was behind it, but they couldn’t find any evidence. They could only attribute it to superstition. They said my stepmother was too toxic, that she brought death to anyone she touched. The day my father died, several women showed up with children, demanding inheritance. My stepmother, the champion of household battles who had defeated these women, went on the offensive. “Uncle Wang, throw these filthy things out!” she ordered. Cutting off someone’s money is like killing their parents. How could these people give up so easily? My stepmother looked delicate, but her words were merciless. She brought out my father’s urn. “Oh my, he’s already been cremated. We can’t do a paternity test now, but you’re welcome to join him down there,” she said with a smile. The women burst into tears. “Are you even human? Robert’s body wasn’t even cold, and you had him cremated.” My stepmother smiled sweetly and said, “I checked. He was cold, very cold indeed.” That smile sent chills down my spine, and I quietly moved further away. In the end, those women and children were dragged away by security, crying and screaming. My stepmother lounged comfortably on the sofa, pouring herself a glass of red wine, in a great mood. “I’ve struck it rich. This money will last me a lifetime,” she said. “Too bad there’s one extra burden,” she added with a frown. I watched her smile and frown, not daring to make a sound. She seemed to view me as a burden. Would I be homeless soon? Thankfully, since my mother passed away, my uncle has been caring for me. He said yesterday he wanted to take me away. Not long after, my uncle and aunt arrived. My aunt was crying all the way here, her eyes red: “Lily, how could your parents leave so early?” “Poor Lily, a girl without parents, what will become of you?” My uncle stroked my head, saying sympathetically, “Poor child, come live with us from now on.” They looked at me with sincere concern. I glanced secretly at my stepmother, who didn’t seem keen on keeping me. Everyone says stepmothers are bad, but I didn’t feel that way. She just treated me like a stranger, just like my father did. I was leaning towards going with my uncle when I was about to speak. Suddenly, floating comments appeared in front of me. [The plot’s moving so fast! The heroine’s about to be taken away by relatives to be mistreated. I can’t wait!] [These relatives are evil. After getting the money, they’ll sell the heroine to some remote village.] [That’s nothing. All the hardships she endures as a child will be compensated by the male lead’s love later. A pure, innocent flower growing in adversity, meeting her savior when she grows up. So sweet!] [This evil stepmother doesn’t look like a good person either. She probably can’t wait to get rid of the girl.]

I couldn’t understand these words. What male lead? What innocent flower? My uncle and aunt, seeing I wasn’t responding, started to get impatient. “Lily? Your aunt is talking to you!” Are the relatives the comments mentioned my uncle and aunt? Will they sell me in the future? I started to hesitate, unable to make a decision. My uncle made the decision for me. “Alright, take Lily with you. I’ll talk to Vivian about this,” he said. My aunt started dragging me towards the door, ignoring my resistance. I started crying helplessly. My stepmother stood up impatiently and said with displeasure: “What’s this? Trying to snatch a child from my house?” I felt like I had grabbed onto a lifeline. I broke free from my aunt’s grip and ran towards my stepmother. Before I could touch her sleeve, she avoided me with disgust. I wrung my hands nervously and finally called out: “Mom… I don’t want to go with them.” This was the first time I called her mom. My stepmother’s face flashed with surprise. She was speechless for a moment: “You…” My uncle grabbed my hand and said to my stepmother: “The child is just being difficult. She’ll be fine once she comes with us.” He turned to glare at me fiercely: “Your parents are dead. I’m your closest relative now. Who else can you go with?” “Don’t bother your mom. Come with us right now.” At this moment, I started to believe those strange comments. Maybe they really would take me away and sell me. I looked up at my stepmother pleadingly. She was my last hope. My stepmother ignored the man’s words. She looked down at me: “Are you sure? If you stay, you’ll be my daughter from now on.” “You’ll have to take care of me when I’m old.” I hesitated, then nodded. My stepmother coldly looked at my uncle: “See? She doesn’t want to go with you.” My uncle laughed dryly: “You’re still young. You can have your own children later.” “This child is skinny and not very smart. She’ll only give you trouble if you keep her.” My stepmother sneered: “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to. I’m her legal guardian now. No one can take her away without my permission.” Seeing my stepmother’s firm attitude and the security guards at the door, my uncle didn’t dare to force the issue. He probed: “Well, didn’t her father leave a lot of inheritance? We can help manage it for her, so she doesn’t waste it.” My stepmother nodded exaggeratedly: “Yes, it’s a lot of money.” Seeing my uncle and aunt’s eyes light up, she continued: “But it’s none of your business to manage it.” This really angered them. As my uncle was about to lunge forward, The security guards immediately sprang into action, carrying the two of them away. The floating comments appeared again: [How did the plot change? Is the evil stepmother going to raise the heroine?] [Oh no, what about my male lead? The heroine was supposed to meet him after being sold to the mountains by her aunt.] [Maybe the stepmother plans to sell the heroine herself. Let’s wait and see, everyone.]

After my uncle and aunt caused trouble at home once, Even though I was young, I realized they weren’t good people. If I couldn’t trust them, who could I trust? My stepmother? Would she sell me off like the comments suggested? After my uncle left, I tried to minimize my presence at home, not wanting my stepmother to notice me. I was afraid that one day she’d remember me and decide I ate too much, then sell me off to the mountains. But she seemed very busy, and I didn’t see her for several days. I felt relieved. One day, when I went to the kitchen to find something to eat, my stepmother’s voice suddenly rang out. “What are you looking for? Have you eaten?” I clutched my clothes nervously and said timidly, “I’ve finished eating, Ms. Vivian.” “You little brat, calling me mom when you need something, and Ms. Vivian when you don’t, huh?” She snorted coldly, seeming displeased. “I’ve been busy the past few days. How have you been eating?” How have I been eating? Just like usual, whatever was left after the servants finished eating was my food. I told her honestly. My stepmother opened the refrigerator, looked at the leftover chicken bones inside, and frowned: “So, this is what you usually eat?” I nodded. What else could I eat? I was just one of my father’s many children from outside, lucky enough to be brought back. It was only because my mother fell ill and passed away, leaving me with no one to care for me. After my father brought me back, he ignored me and rarely came home. I was completely forgotten in a corner. The servants were all shrewd. Seeing how my father treated me, they started to neglect me too. If I was lucky, I would have leftover food to eat. More often, I would go hungry for an entire day. After a long silence, my stepmother cursed in a way I didn’t understand, then called all the servants of the villa. In front of everyone, she said: “What’s their status, and what’s yours?” “As my daughter, you eat leftovers? I’d be laughed at if people knew.” “Lily, look at these servants. Who bullied you? Point them out.”

The next day, all the servants I had pointed out disappeared, replaced by a batch of young college student nannies. My stepmother said college students were cheap and worked hard. I didn’t understand. Until I saw the floor being mopped three times a day, and the dining table filled with a variety of delicious foods. I vaguely began to understand. I sat carefully at the dining table, smelling the fresh food aroma, not daring to pick up my chopsticks. My stepmother propped her head with one hand, pushing the food in front of me. “Finish all of this. You’re not allowed to leave until you do.” I swallowed. Was this really happening? I demonstrated a whirlwind eating performance for my stepmother, making her frown. “You need to eat like this from now on, or people will think I’m mistreating you as a stepmother.” I nodded while eating. After eating my fill, I saw the floating comments again. [What is this evil stepmother doing? Fattening up the girl to sell her for a better price?] [This plot is good. Let the heroine feel warmth before cruelly abandoning her. The impact will be greater this way.] [No wonder so many men like the heroine when she grows up. She’s such an obedient little dumpling from a young age.] My stepmother leaned back lazily and said: “Don’t live in that doghouse anymore. It doesn’t look fit for human habitation.” “I’ve had a room prepared for you upstairs. You’ll live upstairs with me from now on.” My stepmother’s way of speaking in bursts made me nervous. Her following words made my heart race even more. I couldn’t help but think of the floating comments that had just appeared. Was it true, as they said, that she was fattening me up to sell me off?

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My sister was diagnosed with leukemia during a routine hospital check-up, and my bone marrow was a perfect match. Driven by a moment of irrationality, I lied to my family, claiming that I was the one who was sick. They all immediately rejected the idea. “Donating bone marrow is risky; we can’t let your sister take that risk.” “You fell ill on your own; don’t drag your sister down. Life and death are determined by fate; you must accept it.” My sister, citing her plans to become pregnant, firmly refused to help. The fragile threads of our family ties were finally severed. In that moment of clarity, I left the medical report behind and walked away from home for good. When I learned that my bone marrow was a match, I had just discovered I was pregnant. My mentor called me aside with a grave expression. He explained that if I wanted to donate bone marrow to my sister, Emily Johnson, I would likely have to terminate the pregnancy. He urged me to consider it carefully and discuss it with my husband. I was indeed torn. I had been taking herbal medicines and preparing for this pregnancy for a long time. My husband was so thrilled upon hearing of my pregnancy that he wanted to announce it to the world. How could I possibly consider ending it? However, Emily Johnson was only twenty-nine. Unlike me, she was our parents’ cherished daughter, raised with them. If anything were to happen to her, my parents would be devastated. After an afternoon of inner turmoil, I decided to visit home after work.

When I arrived, the family was joyfully having dinner. Besides Emily’s family, my brother Ethan Johnson and his girlfriend were there too. They were clinking glasses, clearly celebrating something. My presence shattered the warm atmosphere. The dining room fell silent, and everyone awkwardly set down their glasses. Only my mom awkwardly laughed and pretended to warmly invite me to join them. “We thought you were busy, so we didn’t call you. But it turns out you’re the lucky one; come sit and eat with us.” Despite her words, the politeness and distance in her actions were unmistakable. Suddenly, I felt like playing along. I did something out of character and gently took the hand that was lightly supporting my arm. “Mom, I’m sick.” Mom’s hand stiffened, but she let me hold it. “Uh, well, if you’re sick, eat more, and you’ll get better.” She was dismissive, not even asking what was wrong, and used the excuse of moving a chair to withdraw her hand. Ethan frowned. “Nora, did you come back just to bring bad luck? Every time something good happens, you ruin it.” “Today, Emily got a spot for an overseas tour. Don’t tell me you did this on purpose.” I ignored him and sat in the chair Mom had pulled out for me. “I have leukemia.” Ethan stopped talking. Mom’s hand trembled as she handed me chopsticks, and they fell to the floor. The dining room was silent. Mom’s eyes turned red, and she started to wipe her tears. Finally, Dad, who had been silent, spoke up. “We need to inform your in-laws; their family can afford the treatment.” He looked at me disapprovingly. “Stay calm in the face of things. Don’t be reckless, or you’ll give your mom a hypertension attack.” Mom wiped her face and started putting food on my plate. “Your dad’s right, eat first, and then we’ll talk about big matters.” Emily also added food to my plate, smiling like a cheerful little girl. “Yeah, you’re too worried, that’s why you’re sick. Eat more and smile, and everything will be fine.” I didn’t pick up my chopsticks, my gaze sweeping over each of them. “I’m not here to ask for money for treatment.” “I just want to ask if my sister can donate bone marrow to me.” The dining room went silent again. After a long pause, Dad slammed his chopsticks on the table. “That’s ridiculous!” He furrowed his brows tightly. “Don’t you know donating bone marrow is risky?” I gave a bitter smile. “Isn’t it worth taking a small risk to save my life?” Dad stubbornly turned his face aside. “We can’t let your sister take that risk. A one percent risk is a hundred percent when it happens to Emily.” I wasn’t surprised by Dad’s answer. As the middle child who was fostered elsewhere, Dad wasn’t welcoming of my birth nor my return. But at least Mom and Emily were somewhat friendly to me. I turned my gaze to Mom. Mom was already in tears. I looked at her hopefully, thinking we might break the previous estrangement and she’d hug me like she did my sister. But instead, she said something even more heartless while crying. “Honey, life and death are matters of fate. You must accept it even if you’re unwilling!” She clutched her chest, her voice sorrowful. “You got sick on your own; don’t drag your sister down. If I lose both of you, how would I live?” At that moment, I finally realized that Mom wasn’t afraid of losing two daughters. She was just afraid of losing my sister. I lost interest and turned my gaze to Emily, the main person involved. Since I was brought back home, Emily had been somewhat friendly to me. Although she often said grandiose things, that was probably because she was raised in a sheltered environment. At least she would scold Ethan when he bullied me. I still held onto a sliver of hope. However, Emily’s attitude was completely different today. Her eyes were full of anger as she glared at me. “Nora, you’re doing this on purpose!” She stood up emotionally, as if she had tolerated me for a long time. “I’ve wanted to say this for a long time. You always felt that our parents wronged you by sending you away. So, you return with a sullen face, eager to upset everyone.” “You pretend to be cowering as if you suffered greatly outside. Don’t think we don’t know. You just want to make our parents feel guilty.” She was so angry that her chest heaved violently, as if she suffered a huge injustice. After a moment, she managed to suppress her sobs. “But everything has a limit. We’ve tolerated the small stuff, but now you’re talking about donating bone marrow so casually. You just want to put our parents in a dilemma.” “If they refuse, you accuse them of being heartless. If they agree, they face losing two daughters.” “Why are you so malicious, always ruining our happiness?” Emily said as she hugged Mom. Hearing her words, Mom finally began to cry. “Emily, stop talking. It’s all your dad’s fault, insisting on having both a son and a daughter. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have…” She didn’t finish, but everyone knew what she meant. She was implying that they wouldn’t have had me. Ethan stood up too. They both stood by Mom’s side, looking at me with identical resentment. Emily lifted her chin, looking righteous. “Nora, I won’t let you hurt Mom and Dad. I won’t donate bone marrow to you.” She proudly protected Mom. “This has nothing to do with Mom and Dad. If this gets out, don’t say they are heartless. It’s my selfishness. I can’t let Mom lose two daughters.” “It’s my decision, and I’ll take the blame!” Emily’s expression was so determined it seemed like she was about to sacrifice herself heroically. I twisted the medical report in my pocket and couldn’t help but chuckle softly. After a moment, I stared at Emily and asked slowly, “Are you sure you won’t donate no matter what?” Emily gently wiped Mom’s tears, looking even more like she was about to sacrifice herself. “I absolutely won’t donate!” she said. “If you want to blame someone, blame me, not our parents. I’m preparing for pregnancy, and I can’t risk my child’s life for yours.” I laughed until tears came, then looked at her with pity. Then I softly said, “You’re right. How can you save someone by killing your own child?” Emily didn’t understand, comforting Mom with her head down. On the other side, Mom was already crying so hard she was gasping for breath. She nestled in her children’s arms as if she were the one with leukemia. She weakly soothed her chest. “It’s all your fault, Old Wen. You insisted on having both a son and a daughter!” Father, annoyed by the scolding, slammed the table and stood up. He walked over to me and pulled out a large red envelope from his pocket, tossing it in front of me like he was shooing away a beggar. “Whether it’s real or fake illness, take the money and get lost.” “If you upset your mom, don’t blame me for disowning you!” The red envelope was beautifully wrapped, clearly prepared with care. When I picked it up and looked closely, it even had beautiful handwritten words. [Wishing my beloved daughter a successful performance and lots of fun.] I laughed at myself, then looked up and asked. “Won’t giving me this money for treatment delay your daughter’s fun overseas?” Dad looked at me with disdain, his tone devoid of any warmth. “Don’t get sarcastic with me. You’re not aware of your own limitations, insisting on fairness. I don’t mind falling out with you.” “I didn’t want to have you, but I entrusted someone to raise you, never lacking food or clothing. You should be content, not constantly finding fault.” He turned his face away decisively. “I always listened to your mom and endured you. But since you were unreasonable first, don’t blame me for not recognizing you as my daughter.” He finally issued an eviction order. The dining room fell silent again. They silently cleared a path for me to leave, and everyone quietly watched. “I never wanted to have you, but I still made sure you were raised without lacking the basics. You should be grateful and stop causing trouble.” He turned his head away decisively. “I’ve always listened to your mom and put up with you patiently. Today you were out of line first, so don’t blame me for cutting ties with you as my daughter.” He finally told me to leave. The dining room fell silent. Everyone quietly made way for me to leave, watching me as if waiting for a troublesome burden to exit. At that moment, everything became clear to me. No matter how much I humbled myself, I would never belong to this family. And honestly, I didn’t want to. When I looked up again, I was done being cautious. I thoughtfully considered the red envelope in my hand and slowly stood up. With my high heels, I was as tall as my dad now. I wasn’t the little girl who eagerly awaited seeing him once a month anymore. I looked him straight in the eye and quietly asked, “If you always say you didn’t want me, then why was I even born?” “Was it because you couldn’t control yourself, or am I not really your child?” Dad’s eyes widened in shock, his lips trembling as he delayed raising his hand to strike me. I stepped aside, causing him to stumble. Then I pointed my chin at mom. “And you. Stop pretending to cry. Why weren’t you more decisive when you didn’t want me?” “Was it because dad forced himself on you when you got pregnant? Couldn’t you fight back at your weight?” Mom finally stopped sobbing. Her act of guilt couldn’t hold up any longer. Her fingers shook with anger as she pointed at me. “…How can children from the same mother be so different?” Emily Johnson, angry at seeing her dear mom insulted, threw herself into her arms, crying. Ethan Johnson seemed ready to hit me, lunging to grab my wrist. Their boyfriends and girlfriends joined in to break up the chaos. The dining room descended into disorder. As I was pulled around, I took a solid slap from dad. My face jerked sideways, and warm blood trickled from my nose. “Get out!” Dad shouted loudly. “From now on, we’re cutting ties. The Wilson family has no ungrateful child like you!” My hand instinctively reached for my abdomen. Everything was fine there. Only then did I clearly recognize the strange connection I had already formed with the little life inside me. Since that was what I wanted, I wouldn’t let it down. So I raised my face and stared at him intently. “Fine, you said it. I’m no longer a daughter of the Wilson family.” Dad looked at me with disgust, his face stern. “That’s right, I said it. My words are like nails!” I wiped my face harshly. “Great! From now on, our lives are separate. Whoever seeks help from the other is a fool.” Dad stiffened his neck, not saying a word. Emily Johnson cried out. “Yes! Whoever seeks help is a coward, cursed to suffer a terrible fate!” “Just leave already! Or do you want to drive my mom to death?” I smiled with satisfaction, casually taking the medical report from my pocket and tossing it onto the red envelope. “Very well, Emily Johnson, remember what you said today.”

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The driver’s son spent a fortune on his girlfriend’s birthday party, only to find out when he was checking out that his credit card had been frozen. He called me in a rage and said, “Rachel, what gives you the right to freeze my credit card? Do you know how humiliating it is that I can’t pay here?” I sneered and reminded him, “Have you lost your memory? The credit card in your hand is mine, right? It’s none of your business if I freeze my credit card.” I wouldn’t indulge in love and would choose to be a wealthy lady rather than curry favor with a driver’s son. I became Rachel Johnson, the love-obsessed heroine of the book. Rachel was the only heiress to the Johnson family of Capitalise and grew up being spoiled by everyone. She probably never got rejected growing up. So when she was rejected for inviting Adrian Sinclair, the son of her driver, Harry Sinclair, to play with her, she suddenly had a desire for conquest. She thought it was so cool that Adrian dared to reject her. So, from that day on, Rachel followed Adrian every day. Maybe she just wanted to take Adrian at first, hoping that he would dote on her like the other boys. But apparently, Adrian wouldn’t be like that. No matter what Rachel did, Adrian was always cold to her. Slowly, Rachel’s mindset towards Adrian began to change. She started thinking of ways to please Adrian. She gave Adrian the new cell phone that her father, Victor Johnson, bought for her and used Adrian’s old cell phone that he had outgrown. The new necklace her mother, Angela Johnson, bought for her was given to Mary Roberts as a birthday gift by Adrian. Even a large portion of her one-hundred-thousand-dollar monthly allowance was spent on Adrian. Everyone in the class knew that Rachel liked Adrian very much. Even if it were something outrageous, as long as Adrian showed a hint of displeasure, Rachel would immediately bow her head and apologize. Later, someone rumored that Rachel was the daughter of Adrian’s nanny and was able to attend Monjen High School only because of Adrian’s family’s financial support. I shook my head, thinking that Rachel was a fool. Just now, Rachel was angry when she heard that Adrian had confessed his love for Mary at Mary’s birthday party and then died from it. What kind of magic did Adrian have that could make Rachel, a rich girl, so mesmerized? I lay on the soft, big bed, looked at the balance on the bank card, and couldn’t help but smile. Wouldn’t it be nice to be a rich girl in peace? I didn’t give a shit about Adrian. I hung up on Adrian and blocked his number without a second thought. I was dreaming happily when suddenly another person called me. I picked up the phone and realized it was a female voice. Mary said with a sobbing voice, “Rachel, I know you like Adrian, but he likes me. How can you secretly freeze his credit card just because he doesn’t like you? “Now the whole class is being held up at the hotel and not allowed to leave, waiting for Adrian to settle his bill. Stop messing around and unfreeze Adrian’s credit card. “And you blocked Adrian’s cell phone number. Do you know how angry he was? If I hadn’t persuaded him, he would have wanted to break it off with you.” I said calmly, “Then let’s break it off. It’s not like I care about him. “By the way, that credit card in his hand is mine. What is it any of your business if I freeze my credit card? “Why does he need my money to throw you a birthday party? Didn’t he say he was rich? How can he not even have the money to throw you a birthday party?” The phone was snatched by Adrian, an angry voice coming from the other end of the line. He said, “Rachel, stop it. Don’t use this method to get my attention. I’m furious right now. I’m giving you one minute to hurry up and unfreeze my credit card. Otherwise, you know the consequences.” His words sounded like a domineering president. But unfortunately, Adrian was just a driver’s son. Before I could say anything, the phone was hung up. Well, that saved me from wasting my words. I silently blocked the number and got up, then put on delicate makeup and picked out a nice outfit from the checkroom. Being a rich girl was excellent, having a table full of big-name cosmetics. Rachel’s cloakroom was bigger than my living room, and she had a wall full of bags. If I weren’t hungry, I’d be frantically trying on clothes in this cloakroom.

Adrian’s dad, Harry, was my dedicated driver. Actually, he had been initially Victor’s driver. But because Rachel liked Adrian, she transferred Harry to drive her, and Adrian as well. Harry was obviously Rachel’s driver, but he had to wait for Adrian to come before he would drive. There were several times when Rachel got detentions for failing exams. Harry picked up Adrian and left directly without waiting for Rachel. In the end, Rachel had to take the bus back. It was because Adrian would reprimand Rachel for asking Harry to pick her up again. Adrian said, “You’re the one who didn’t do well in your exam and got detention. Why should my dad have to go back? Can’t you just take the bus back yourself?” I opened the back door and got in when I heard Harry on the phone. “I know, and I’ll ask her for you.” Hanging up the phone, he turned to me, and there was actually some recrimination in his eyes. He said, “Rachel, did you fight with Adrian? Why did you freeze his credit card? He’s now being held up at the hotel and humiliated in front of the class. You’re going too far.” I retorted directly, “Harry, you’d better get your position correct. You’re just my driver. Rachel was called by my parents, not by you, a driver. “Besides, the credit card your son is holding is mine. What business is it of yours if I freeze my credit card?” Harry looked at me incredulously with a highly complex expression. He opened his mouth and didn’t say anything. Seeing his silence, I gave an address and then closed my eyes to rest. But when the car stopped, I realized that Harry had actually driven the car to the hotel where Adrian had thrown Mary’s birthday party. Harry said, “Rachel, I know you’re upset that Adrian and Mary are together. But you can’t force a love affair, right? “You booked this hotel for Adrian, but you don’t want to pay for it now. Do you think you did the right thing? “Now, the whole class is being held at the hotel because of your behavior. You need to stop making a scene and go settle your bill.” I gazed into Harry’s eyes and suddenly nodded. “Okay, but you have to come with me.” Harry was a little hesitant, wanting to refuse. Seeing the look in my eyes, he finally nodded in agreement. Harry and I headed inside one after the other, and I could hear noisy chatter and grumbling from inside before we even entered the private room. One of the boys said, “Rachel is off her meds today, isn’t she? She actually blocked Adrian’s cell phone number.” A girl chimed in, “Yeah, she also blocked Mary’s number. Is it possible that Adrian and Mary being together is so much of a shock to her that she can’t handle it?” The boy continued, “Don’t be afraid. Something like that happened once before. But she lasted an hour before she apologized to Adrian. I’m betting that she’ll only last an hour today, too.” I pushed my way in, and all eyes were on me. I could clearly hear the boy who had just spoken continue, “See? I said she could only last an hour. She rushed over here to apologize to Adrian.” Adrian’s original smile instantly turned to disgust when he saw me. “Rachel, how dare you come?” He looked me up and down and continued, “How come you came to Mary’s birthday with nothing? Where’s the gift?” Seeing that I didn’t say anything, he said, “Forget it if you didn’t prepare a gift. You transfer me a hundred thousand dollars later, and I’ll go buy Mary a bag as your birthday gift to her.” I laughed and stepped forward, looking Adrian straight in the eye. “That’s so weird, Mr. Sinclair. Where is a nanny’s daughter like me going to get a hundred thousand dollars to buy Mary a bag?”

Adrian’s expression changed, and he mumbled, “Isn’t that what I pay you for?” I nodded and tried to say something before Mary interrupted, “Forget it if you didn’t bring a gift. Rachel, just pay the bill. We’re going to go sing.” “What? Why do you want me to pay the bill? I’m just a nanny’s daughter. How would I have the money to pay for your bill?” I said very loudly on purpose. “It’s not your money, but the money Adrian keeps at your place,” someone said back to me. “Would you give your allowance to your nanny’s daughter to keep?” I said sarcastically. That guy stopped talking. Adrian pulled me into a corner and lowered his voice. “Rachel, what the hell do you want? Why is it so much trouble for me to ask you to pay a bill?” I looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Nothing. I just suddenly figured it out, and I don’t want to please you anymore.” I suddenly turned to look at Harry, who was following me. “Harry, your son doesn’t have the money to pay for his girlfriend’s birthday. It makes sense for you, the father, to pay the bill, right?” When Adrian met Harry’s eyes, both of them had weird expressions. Of course, the rest of the class had even weirder ones. One boy said, “Isn’t Adrian one of the rich guys from the Sinclair family? How come his dad is dressed so plain?” Another boy said, “The suit doesn’t fit, and it’s all wrinkled. It’s definitely not customized.” A girl asked, “Is this Adrian’s dad? He doesn’t look like he’s rich. What’s going on?” The crowd whispered, and Adrian’s face was pretty pale. I added at the right time, “This is Harry, my driver. Adrian is his son. “Harry, if you don’t have any money, I’ll call my uncle and ask him to give you a discount. “By the way, you’re fired. From today, you are no longer my family’s driver.” After saying that, I waved my hand towards them and turned to leave gracefully. Did they want me to pay the bill? Never in a million years. I would like to donate this money to the poor if I had it. That would at least be a good thing. The next day, when I went to school, I had just opened the car door when Adrian tried to get in. “What are you doing?” I pulled on the door. “Get out of the way. I’m going to be late.” He pushed me away hard and got into the car, sitting next to me. Then, Adrian turned toward the front and said, “Dad, like before, we’re picking up Mary and then going to school.” The driver, Eric Turner, turned and looked at Adrian blankly. Harry had been fired by me yesterday. Just in case he thought I didn’t have the right, I called Victor about it. Victor said that his other driver, Eric, happened to be free at home lately and that Eric would be driving me to and from school these days. “Adrian, have you lost your memory? Your father was fired by me yesterday. Get out of the car now.” I kicked hard, kicking him out of the car straight away.

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The Christmas family gathering was in full swing when my aunt Karen started mocking me as I reviewed some work documents on my laptop: “Stop pretending to be so busy. We all know you only make $3,000 a month! My daughter Rachel is a real high-earner – she’s such an important designer that she couldn’t even make it home for Christmas!” Seeing that I wasn’t responding, she encouraged her spoiled son Peter to delete all my files while I was in the bathroom. I was shaking with anger when I returned. “That proposal was due in 10 minutes! If I don’t submit it, I’m done for!” Aunt Karen shrugged nonchalantly. “He’s just a child, how could he know any better? Your job can’t be that important anyway. So what if you get fired? Maybe then you’ll finally settle down and get married so your parents can stop worrying.” I couldn’t help but smirk silently. If only she knew that the proposal was actually her precious daughter Rachel’s work – the one that would determine whether Rachel kept her job or not. And I was the client who would be making that decision!

On the second day of the Christmas break, our family of three returned to my grandmother’s house for the annual gathering. I had barely sat down when I received a text from my cousin Rachel: “Brynn, I just emailed you my proposal. Please, I’m begging you to review it ASAP. My whole career is riding on this!” Rachel currently works as an advertising designer. Her company isn’t doing well financially and is planning layoffs. They’re using this collaboration with my company as an opportunity to have employees compete against each other – whoever’s proposal gets selected gets to keep their job. Before Christmas, all of Rachel’s coworkers had already submitted their proposals. Only Rachel hadn’t finished hers yet. She said she needed to come up with a perfect proposal to outshine everyone else, so she’d been pulling all-nighters for over a month, sleeping only two hours a day. However, my business partner had already seen a proposal he liked and didn’t want to consider any more. It was only after I pleaded with him repeatedly that he agreed to give Rachel one last chance. My partner made it clear that meeting deadlines was also part of evaluating capability. To be fair, he said we must receive the proposal by 8 PM tonight – no exceptions! I reminded Rachel multiple times to submit as soon as possible. But after waiting all day, she only just sent it to me now. It was already 7:45 PM. In our group chat, my other two partners were getting impatient. They said if it weren’t for my sake, they wouldn’t be wasting their Christmas working overtime. I quickly forwarded Rachel’s proposal to the group chat. At least this way, I could say I did my part for her. Just when I thought the crisis had been averted, a red exclamation mark popped up. No internet connection. Sending failed! I looked up to see my 10-year-old cousin Peter waving the unplugged network cable at me and making faces. I sighed and said gently, “Peter, don’t mess around. Please plug it back in!” Before I could finish speaking, Aunt Karen’s shrill voice rang out: “Brynn! How dare you yell at a child?” The whole family turned to stare at me. I was baffled. I forced a smile and said, “I wasn’t yelling. I just asked him to plug the cable back in.” Aunt Karen brushed some snack crumbs off her hands and looked me up and down with disdain. “Working on Christmas Day? You must be SO busy! Even your Uncle John who runs a supermarket isn’t as busy as you! Who are you trying to impress?” I glanced at the time – only 12 minutes left. I didn’t have time to argue with her, so I decided to use my phone to send the email instead. But Aunt Karen snatched my phone away before I could. “Your elder is speaking to you! How dare you look at your phone? I hate you millennials always glued to your screens! It’s a family gathering and you can’t even be bothered to talk to your relatives. You’re just pretending to be busy to avoid us! Who do you think you’re fooling? We all know you only make $3,000 a month, you wage slave!” With that, she turned off my phone right in front of everyone. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Aunt Karen, this is about your daughter’s future!” Aunt Karen burst out laughing. “My daughter is a top designer! Her future has nothing to do with a bottom-feeder like you! You never tell us what you actually do for work. I bet you’re just too ashamed of your pathetic salary to say anything!” “We all know you’re just a regular office drone making $3,000 a month. Stop pretending to be so busy – it only makes you look ridiculous!” My mom could see I was getting upset. She quickly tried to mediate: “Karen, don’t say that. Brynn wouldn’t be working on Christmas unless it was really urgent. Please give her phone back. And Peter, hurry up and plug the network cable back in – we all need to use the internet!” My mom spoke very gently, but somehow it was enough to make Peter burst into tears. He pointed angrily at me and my mom, then stomped his feet and started wailing. Aunt Karen rushed to comfort her son and turned to berate my mom for bullying a child. My grandma, worried about her grandson, grabbed a pair of scissors and threatened to cut the network cable. The scene descended into chaos. I checked the time – only 8 minutes left. Rachel, your job might be ruined by your own mother and brother!

Come to think of it, no one in the family could out-pretend Rachel when it came to putting on airs. She only graduated from community college but told the family she had a bachelor’s degree. She works at a small advertising company but claims to be a designer at a top 100 firm in the country, making $400,000 a year. One lie leads to another. To keep up the charade, she, who only makes 4,500 a month, went crazy enough to borrow 150,000 and give it to her mom, saying it was her year-end bonus. Her mom had been bragging about it in the family group chat for over a month, always putting me down to prop Rachel up. But I understood why Rachel did it. With a status-obsessed, sexist, and overbearing mom like Aunt Karen, she was forced to pretend just to survive! She used to be honest before, but her life was miserable then. The incident that left the deepest impression on me was when Rachel was in 5th grade. She got a 69% on her final exam. I had gotten a 99%. As soon as her mom saw her test paper, she slapped Rachel across the face twice without a word. Rachel was stunned, humiliated, but didn’t dare cry. It didn’t stop there. Her mom grabbed her by the ear, cursing and kicking her, forcing her to kneel in the snow holding up her test paper. She wasn’t allowed to eat dinner. Every time they saw someone, her mom would humiliate her daughter in front of them, calling her useless for not getting top scores. Rachel used to be cheerful and outgoing, but her mom’s abuse gradually made her withdrawn and gloomy. From then on, she learned to alter her grades, only bringing home perfect scores. Aunt Karen isn’t very educated, so she’s easy to fool. When she saw the perfect test papers, she finally started treating Rachel better, buying her gifts and praising her in front of others. Rachel became addicted to her mother’s exaggerated praise, even starting to believe she really was a genius. In this daily self-deception that went on year after year, she could no longer accept her true self. When facing me, who knew the truth, she begged me not to tell anyone, saying she would kill herself if I did. She said that if she could land this deal with my company, she could slowly pay back the $150,000 debt. Her boss had said that after the layoffs, they would focus resources on developing whoever remained. If that was her, she could easily make $20,000 a month and gradually turn her fake persona into reality. The premise was that she had to keep her job. I wanted to help her, but I never expected this scene unfolding before me. There were only 5 minutes left! I strode over, snatched the scissors from my grandma’s hand, and grabbed the network cable from Peter. With a stern face, I said: “Just 5 minutes! In 5 minutes, I’ll be done!” Peter cried even harder, pointing at me and shouting: “You $3,000 loser! How dare you take my things? I’ll beat you to death!” Aunt Karen let go of him, allowing him to charge at me with his fists flying. My dad tried to hold Peter back, but before he could say anything, Aunt Karen yelled at him: “What are you doing?! Peter is just a child! His punches don’t even hurt. He’s just playing with Brynn!” My grandma slapped my arm, cooing at Peter: “Bad Brynn! Grandma hit her! Don’t cry, Peter, don’t cry.” She then smacked my back twice more. It didn’t hurt much, but my parents’ expressions darkened. My grandma, leveraging her seniority, scolded them: “What’s with those faces? You want to hit me or something? Brynn’s just a girl, a few smacks won’t hurt her. But if my grandson cries his eyes out, how will you make it up to him?” Aunt Karen smirked triumphantly at my parents. My parents aren’t ones to cause a scene, so they decided not to make a fuss, given it was a holiday. I had plugged the network cable back in and didn’t bother arguing with them. I rushed to connect to the internet and send the email. My business partners were already raging in the group chat, tagging me frantically, saying they wouldn’t look at any proposals after 8 PM, no matter how brilliant. I understood their frustration at having to work on Christmas. There were only 3 minutes left until 8 PM. I quickly sent the files to the group chat. The internet was a bit slow, but it should be fine. I urgently needed to use the bathroom, so I ran off. When I came out, it was already 8 PM. I thought the proposal had been sent successfully, just in time. Crisis averted. But when I returned to my computer to check my partners’ feedback, I was horrified. Rachel’s proposal hadn’t been sent at all – it had been recalled. Seeing they hadn’t received anything, my partners angrily declared they wouldn’t look at it anymore. I quickly tried to resend, only to find the files were gone. I looked up to see Peter making faces at me again. I asked him, “Did you delete my files?” He stuck his tongue out at me: “That’s what you get for being mean to me! This’ll teach you a lesson. Take that!”

Aunt Karen glared at me hostilely: “Brynn, what’s with that look? Are you going to hit my son? He’s just a child! What’s wrong with kids being playful? You’re an adult – aren’t you ashamed to pick on him?!” She scoffed coldly, then said: “It’s just some files. So what if they’re deleted? Your job that pays a few thousand bucks can’t have anything important. Worst case, you get fired. That’d be great actually – you can come back and get married so your parents can stop worrying.” I closed my eyes for a moment, suppressing my anger. I messaged Rachel on my computer, telling her to resend the files ASAP – there might still be a chance. Unexpectedly, Rachel didn’t seem to be checking her phone and didn’t reply immediately. I panicked and reached out to Aunt Karen for my phone so I could call Rachel. Aunt Karen walked up to me with my phone, saying ominously: “Learned your lesson, huh? If you know you were wrong, apologize properly to me and my son. Then I’ll give you your phone back.” I blurted out: “He’s the one who did something wrong. Why should I apologize to him? Being young is no excuse!” Aunt Karen’s eyes widened like saucers: “Big attitude for someone so useless! What right do you have to yell at me? You make 3,000 a month, you good−for−nothing ! My daughter makes 400,000 a year as a top designer!” As she spoke, she started dragging my mom into it: “Emily, I never imagined you could fail so spectacularly as a parent, raising such a useless and rude girl. How embarrassing!” My mom got angry: “Karen, you can say whatever you want about me, but Brynn did nothing wrong. You’d better watch your mouth!” Aunt Karen laughed coldly: “Why should I be careful what I say to a nobody like her? It’s a fact that your family is useless, isn’t it? You couldn’t give birth to a son, that’s useless. Your daughter can’t make money, that’s useless too. Which part did I get wrong?!” She crossed her arms smugly: “I’m different. I raised a daughter who’s a top designer, and I gave birth to a son to carry on the family name. I’ve got nothing to worry about for the rest of my life!” “That’s enough!” my dad finally lost his temper. At this point, my usually silent second aunt and uncle stood up to mediate, holding my dad back: “It’s Christmas, don’t fight. It ruins the mood. Kids will be kids, no big deal. You know how Karen is – she just speaks her mind. Don’t take it to heart.” Here we go again. Every time Aunt Karen attacked my parents, Aunt Sarah’s family always took her side, leaving my family to swallow our anger. Suddenly, I realized that in a way, I was also partly responsible for my parents being mistreated like this. Thinking of this, I wasn’t in a rush anymore. I shrugged and said to her: “Keep the phone if you want. I’m done working!” I turned off my computer too. It’s Christmas – wouldn’t it be better to just relax, play cards and eat snacks? Why bother with this thankless task that only gets me grief? Aunt Karen didn’t expect me to say that. She suddenly felt like she’d punched cotton – all the fight went out of her. She tilted her head back and yelled at me: “You think I want your crappy phone? My daughter has plenty of money – she can buy me whatever phone I want anytime! I only took your phone to teach you some basic manners on behalf of your parents! “Look, this is the year-end bonus my daughter gave me – $150,000! What about you? How many thousands do you have?” She turned on my phone right in front of me: “Let’s see how much money you have in your WeChat wallet. I bet you don’t even have $300.” As soon as the phone turned on, a message from Rachel popped up: “Sis, what’s going on? Why is our boss saying in the group chat that you guys have made a decision, but my proposal wasn’t even considered?!”

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### Because of my sister’s death, my parents came to despise me completely. “You’re so cruel! Why wasn’t it you who died instead?” “Don’t call me Mom. I’m not your mother anymore. You don’t have parents. Get out of this house!” They didn’t just cut me off—they replaced me. They took in a girl they had been sponsoring for years through a charity program, treating her like the daughter they wished they’d had. Years later, that girl developed kidney failure. My mother, a coldly methodical doctor, didn’t hesitate. She harvested one of my kidneys to save her. My father, a high-powered executive and ever the enabler, refused to cover my medical bills. I was left to fend for myself, discharged from the hospital with nowhere to go. Just a few hours after the surgery, a brain tumor I’d been silently battling flared up. I collapsed alone, in the middle of a filthy, reeking alley. And there, surrounded by garbage, I died—forgotten and unloved. I’m dead now, but the searing pain in my back still clings to my soul. I floated helplessly through the hospital halls, my spirit anchored to that place. There they were—my mother and father—sitting anxiously by Ellie’s bedside. Their faces were etched with worry, their eyes fixed on her with a tenderness I had never known. They had never looked at me that way. For me, their eyes were always cold, filled with disgust. “You’re nothing but a burden! Just get out of my sight!” “Don’t come back! I’ve done enough for you. We’re done!” And now, outside Ellie’s hospital room, I heard my mother’s voice, sharp and dismissive: “Thank God Sofia’s kidney was a match for Ellie. That useless girl finally served a purpose!” Three hours ago, my own mother had taken my kidney. As punishment, she refused to allow any anesthesia. I was strapped to the operating table, unable to move, unable to escape, writhing in excruciating pain. Her voice echoed in my mind, cold and detached: “This is what you deserve for killing your sister. You have to atone for your sins.” “This pain? It’s exactly what you should feel.” My father stood nearby, silently watching, handing her the scalpel without hesitation. For years, I thought I had been the one who caused my sister’s death. But as I lay there, consumed by the agony of losing my kidney, fragments of a long-buried memory surfaced. It wasn’t me who pushed my sister into the water. It was Ellie—the girl my parents had so lovingly taken in.

Sometimes, I wonder if the truth even matters. After all, my parents hate me so much. But I still found the strength to call my father, desperate to tell him what I had remembered. His response was a cruel, mocking laugh. “Lying again, huh? Do you even hear yourself?” “How could I have raised a daughter like you? Ellie would never do something like that. She’s perfect. But you? You’re the only one capable of something so vile.” Prejudice is like a mountain—unyielding, immovable. And in my father’s heart, that mountain had been standing tall for years. Convinced I was lying, he refused to pay for my hospital stay. “Dad, I don’t have any money…” I pleaded. “Liar!” he spat. “Aren’t you always working part-time jobs? You’re just too selfish to spend your own money!” He didn’t know my part-time job earnings went to pay for medication. Long shifts, skipped meals, endless stress—I had worked myself into stomach cancer. But there was no point in telling him. When I showed him my diagnosis report, he barely glanced at it before ripping it to shreds. “Do you think I have time for this nonsense?” he snapped. “I’m perfectly healthy, and I’m twice your age. You’re young—how could you possibly have cancer? Faking a medical report? Really? If it’s true, then just go ahead and die already!” Now I’m dead. But it wasn’t cancer that killed me. It was the post-surgery infection I couldn’t afford to treat. When I told my father I had spent all my money on medication, he scoffed. “Then sell yourself!” he said with a sneer.

A nurse called my mom to let her know I had disappeared from my hospital room. “She should be in her bed, recovering. We can’t find her anywhere,” the nurse explained. My mother sighed, clearly annoyed. “So? What do you want me to do about it?” she said. “Do you think I can magically find her?” When Ellie went missing, my mom had been frantic, calling everyone she could think of to help. But for me? She didn’t care. Standing next to her, Dr. King, an attending physician, frowned. “That girl didn’t look well the last time I saw her,” he said. “Her lips were pale. She probably shouldn’t have been out of the hospital in the first place. As her mother, shouldn’t you have noticed something?” Even strangers showed me more concern than my own mother. But she quickly cut him off. “Do you even know what she’s done?” she snapped. “That girl is no daughter of mine. My husband and I disowned her a long time ago. If she’s gone, it’s just another one of her attention-seeking games. She’s always pulling stunts like this.” “She’s not missing,” my mother added dismissively. “She’s just waiting for us to come running after her like usual. It’s her only trick.” Dr. King stared at her in disbelief. “Even if that’s true, she’s still a child. How can you be this heartless? She’s your daughter!” “Not anymore,” my mother said coldly. “If she’s dead, let me know so I can collect the body.” Dr. King was furious. “I thought doctors were supposed to be compassionate,” he said, his voice trembling with anger. “But you can’t even show basic decency to your own child. It disgusts me.” He stormed out, leaving my mother unfazed. I felt guilty for causing Dr. King so much frustration. If it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t have had to argue with my mother. After my father refused to pay my hospital bills, the nurses tried to reassure me. “No parent would just abandon their child,” one of them said gently. “Just stay here and rest. They’ll come around eventually.” But I knew better. I knew my parents far more intimately than they could imagine. To avoid causing the hospital any more trouble, I dragged myself out of the room, my legs weak and unsteady. Somewhere behind me, I heard a nurse calling out: “Wait! You just had surgery—you’re not well enough to leave!” Another voice muttered, confused: “When did she even have surgery? I don’t see her name on the schedule…” Now I’m gone. I’ll never be a burden to anyone again.

They waited anxiously outside the operating room. My mom, usually so confident in her medical expertise, was pacing nervously. For once, the composure she prided herself on was nowhere to be found. “What if something goes wrong?” she murmured, wringing her hands. “I performed Ellie’s surgery myself… but what if I missed something?” My dad tried to reassure her. “She’ll be fine,” he said firmly. “Ellie’s a fighter. Everything’s going to be okay.” I drifted above them, watching through the window as Ellie lay in her hospital bed. Her surgical wound had been stitched with meticulous care, her body tucked neatly under a soft blanket. She looked serene, like a child resting peacefully in a world where she was deeply loved. She was the daughter nurtured and cherished by my parents, their pride and joy. But me? I was never that. When my mom stitched my wounds, her hands were rough, her movements hurried—like even a moment spent caring for me was a waste of her time. I remembered the nurse who had tried to stop her earlier. “Dr. Turner,” the nurse had said hesitantly, “you still have other patients waiting in your clinic today…” But my mom cut her off sharply. “Cancel everything. Reschedule all of them. I’m not seeing anyone else until Ellie wakes up!” “But some of them drove hours to see you…” “And? Let them book someone else, or they can wait! I don’t care. My focus is on Ellie right now—nothing else matters.” It was rare to see my mom so emotional. She was usually the perfect professional: her white coat pristine, her glasses perched neatly on her nose, her demeanor precise and detached, like a machine engineered to respond to every patient’s needs. But whenever Ellie got sick, her calm façade shattered. She became frantic, consumed. The nurse fell silent. Then my mom seemed to remember me. She frowned and turned to my dad. “Where’s Sofia?” “She’s gone,” my dad said with a shrug. “I didn’t pay her hospital bills.” Mom smirked. “Good. That’s exactly what we agreed on.” And then, as if nothing had happened, they began discussing how to use the money they’d saved on my medical expenses. “We should get Ellie a surprise,” my mom said, her voice soft now, almost giddy. They went online and ordered everything they could think of: a massive bouquet of fresh flowers, Barbie dolls, stuffed animals, glittering toys… The packages arrived quickly, and soon the gifts were piled high, a colorful mountain of every little girl’s dream. As I watched them, I couldn’t help but think of something else—a memory from not so long ago. I was sitting near a garbage dump, tired and weak, my body aching from the infection that was slowly killing me. A little girl passed by with her mom, holding a worn-out teddy bear. The girl frowned, wrinkling her nose at the toy. “It’s so ugly!” she complained before tossing it into the trash. As they walked away, the girl glanced back at me a few times, her eyes filled with curiosity. Maybe she was wondering why I looked so dirty, so ragged. Maybe she thought I was ugly too. I stared at the discarded teddy bear. Its fur was matted, its seams fraying, but its button eyes still gleamed brightly in the sunlight. For a moment, I wanted to move. I wanted to reach out, grab that little bear, and hold it close. But then I stopped myself. The bear, even in its brokenness, was still too good for someone like me. I didn’t deserve anything beautiful.

They were brainstorming what else they could do to make Ellie happy when my dad suddenly snapped his fingers. “Ellie’s always wanted to feel like she’s truly part of our family. Why don’t we just make it official? Add her to our family records!” My mom’s face lit up with approval. “That’s a great idea! Go grab the paperwork right away!” As my dad hurried off, a nurse approached my mom, her expression tense. “Dr. Turner, this isn’t just some misunderstanding. Several people saw Sofia leave the building on her own. She just had surgery—where could she possibly go?” “And there was blood,” the nurse added hesitantly. “A lot of it. The janitor’s still scrubbing the floors—it’s everywhere.” From the third-floor railing, you could see the trail of blood leading all the way out of the hospital doors. The janitor, hunched over, was painstakingly cleaning it up. I watched from above, feeling a pang of guilt. I was sorry for making her job harder. But at the time, I couldn’t stop the blood. It kept pouring out, soaking through everything. I was terrified. It felt like I was bleeding out every drop of life I had left. My mom glanced at the nurse, clearly annoyed, and waved her off dismissively. “Stop telling me about her! God, I’m so sick of this! Why is everyone so concerned about that girl? Honestly, the world would be better off if she just died and got it over with. Then we’d all have some peace!” “Do you think you know her better than I do? I’m her mother! This is just another one of her dramatic stunts.” The nurse hesitated, then turned and left, likely realizing there was no point in arguing. Just then, Dr. King stormed down the hallway, his face flushed with anger. He marched up to my mom, clutching a stack of papers in his hand. “You took your own daughter’s kidney… to save your foster daughter?!” He held up the documents, his voice shaking with disbelief. “If I hadn’t checked the surgery logs today, I wouldn’t have even known! Do you realize that harvesting an organ without proper authorization is illegal? You’ve broken the law! And that was your biological daughter! Do you have any humanity left?!” Dr. King’s hands trembled as he thought of the girl in the operating room—me. He’d watched the footage of the surgery, seen the pain I endured, and now his chest tightened with rage and sorrow. This man, a stranger to me, felt more for me in that moment than my own family ever had. My mom faltered for a second, but she quickly regained her composure. She reached into her bag and pulled out a document: the organ donation consent form. “She signed it herself,” my mom said coolly. “I didn’t force her.” Technically, she wasn’t lying. She had tossed the blank form onto the table in front of me and said, “Ellie needs a kidney, and you’re a perfect match. If you have any sense of decency, you’ll know what to do.” I had stared at those bold words on the paper, my stomach twisting with dread. My hand instinctively touched my side, where my kidney was. I hesitated. That brief pause was all my mom needed to unleash her fury. “I knew it!” she snapped. “You’re a selfish, ungrateful brat! You killed your sister, and now you’re just going to sit back and watch your little sister die too?” “It’s just a kidney,” she continued, her voice dripping with scorn. “You have two—you’ll be fine. It’s not like I’m asking for your life!” Her disappointment in me was palpable, cutting deeper than any scalpel. Her eyes burned with contempt, making me feel like I was nothing. She didn’t force my hand, but the weight of her disdain crushed me until I signed the paper, tears blurring my vision. Dr. King’s voice broke through the memory, furious and unrelenting. “She’s your daughter. How could she possibly refuse you?” “Even if she signed the form, did the hospital approve it? Was it filed properly? And you think you can just use the hospital’s resources for a personal surgery? Do you even remember the oath you took as a doctor?” My mom’s confidence wavered for a moment, her eyes darting away. But then she straightened her shoulders, her tone turning defensive. “I’m scheduled to represent the hospital at the medical conference next week,” she said. “My paper on internal medicine is being published. Do you really think the hospital can afford to lose me right now?” Dr. King’s expression darkened, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. Seeing that she had regained the upper hand, my mom softened her tone, her voice almost sweet. “Trust me,” she said. “Once Ellie wakes up, I’ll go look for Sofia. I’m sure she wouldn’t want her mother to lose her job over this.” Dr. King clenched his fists, his face red with anger. “I don’t want anything to do with you anymore,” he said, his voice low but firm. With that, he grabbed his lab coat, tore off a piece of the fabric, and threw it to the ground. It was a symbolic gesture, a severing of ties. My mom’s eyes flickered with something—regret? Anger? It was hard to tell. But then she rolled her eyes and muttered, “That old fool thinks he’s so important.” She turned back to the pile of gifts they had bought for Ellie, her expression hardening. “And Sofia,” she said under her breath, “she’s nothing but trouble. Always has been.”

While my dad was on his way back from the house, carrying the paperwork to make Ellie their official daughter, he passed by the dumpster behind the hospital. Something about the air made him pause. He furrowed his brow, pulled out his phone, and called me. Of course, I couldn’t answer. Frustrated, he ended the call and started typing furiously instead: “Sofia, how long are you going to keep this up? Haven’t you had enough of your little tantrum?” “Fine. If it’s about money, I’ll pay your hospital bill. But seriously, for someone your age, you’re already such a manipulative little schemer. Enough with the games!” He thought I was just sulking, throwing another fit to get his attention. If he had just taken a moment to glance at the pile of trash in front of him, he would’ve found my body. I was right there, buried under that heap of garbage. Through the haze, I could even see my own foot, peeking out from beneath a crumpled chip bag. But he didn’t look. He just spat on the ground in irritation and walked away. When he returned to the hospital, Ellie was awake. Pale and fragile, she lay against the pillows, her eyes fluttering open. Dad’s face lit up as he rushed to her bedside. Mom was already there, arranging a mountain of stuffed animals around her, their colorful shapes crowding the bed. A fresh bouquet of flowers sat on the windowsill, dew glistening on the petals. Ellie’s face brightened with joy. “Thank you, Uncle and Auntie!” she said, her voice weak but full of gratitude. Dad grinned and leaned closer. “Oh, there’s an even bigger surprise for you!” He pulled out the paperwork he’d brought back, holding it up proudly. “How would you like to be our real daughter? From now on, you can call us Mom and Dad.” My dad—a man who had faced boardrooms full of CEOs, negotiated million-dollar deals—was suddenly nervous, his voice trembling with anticipation. Even my mom, usually so composed, seemed a little anxious. “Ellie,” she said softly, “you… you don’t think we’re too old, do you?” Tears welled up in Ellie’s eyes. She choked back a sob and whispered, “I just… I just feel so lucky. So happy…” And then they hugged, the three of them, a picture-perfect family wrapped in their own little bubble of joy. It was the kind of ending you’d see in a movie—warm, perfect, full of love. I watched from above, my spirit suspended in the air. But my heart felt hollow, as if a piece of it had been carved out. Blood ties are supposed to be the strongest bond in the world. But for me, they were chains—binding me so tightly that they cut into my skin, leaving me bleeding and broken. If I hadn’t been their child, maybe I could’ve run far, far away. Maybe I could’ve escaped this family without hesitation. But I wasn’t so lucky. Downstairs, a piercing scream shattered the quiet of the hospital grounds. “Someone’s dead!” “There’s a body in the dumpster!” The sound carried faintly, but my family didn’t hear it from where they stood. They were too far away, too caught up in their moment of happiness. Then a nurse came running, her face pale with shock as she reached my parents. “We found Sofia!” she blurted out, her voice trembling. Mom and Dad turned to her, startled. “She’s dead,” the nurse continued, struggling to keep her composure. “That body in the dumpster… it’s your daughter.”

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It’s 11 PM, and my wife still hasn’t come home. I call her, and she mumbles something about a company party, saying she can’t get away. I don’t call her out on it. I silently watch as my wife of 5 years, whom I’ve known for 9, enters a bar arm-in-arm with another man. “I think it’ll be a few more hours. Don’t wait up for me, go to bed,” she says hurriedly before hanging up. Tonight marks the 11th time this month she’s come home late. It’s also the last chance I’m giving her. At 4 AM, Claire finally returns. For the first time, she rushes straight to the bathroom to shower. The clothes she casually tossed on the couch are missing the stockings she wore when she left. I let out a bitter laugh, grab her clothes, and throw them in the washing machine before preparing some hangover pills for her. “Jack, you’re the best!” Claire suddenly hugs me from behind. Her voice is still sweet and melodious: “You’re up so late and even prepared hangover pills for me. You’re going to spoil me!” I’m not as enthusiastic as I used to be and coldly push her away. “Just take the pills.” “Your stomach isn’t good. If you drink without taking hangover pills, you won’t be able to sleep tonight.” Claire smiles and, like an obedient kitten, leans on the table to drink some water. She rambles on, “Work’s been so busy lately. If it’s not overtime, it’s company events. I probably won’t even get a break this weekend. It’s exhausting…” I remember she said the same thing last week. Worried about her irregular meals, I went to bring her lunch, only to discover she had never worked overtime. Her empty desk had only a photo frame with a picture of her and Zack. Her colleague said she hadn’t changed it in years. “If you’re that tired, just be honest about it.” “Huh? Honest about what?” Claire’s watery eyes suddenly widen. “About you and Zack. Isn’t it exhausting to lie every day? Drinking until this late and still having to come up with excuses for me seems unnecessary.” I point to the pills, telling Claire to remember where they’re kept so she can find them herself next time she drinks. “Jack, stop it!” “What are you doing? Are you leaving me?” Claire grabs my arm and hugs it, her eyes turning red. Years of marriage make me hold back from lashing out: “I can’t keep a woman whose heart I couldn’t warm in 9 years.” “What nonsense are you talking about? I’m not that kind of woman!” Claire lets go of my hand and glares at me angrily: “Haven’t I explained it to you? Zack and I are just friends. He just came back from abroad and doesn’t have a place to stay or a job yet, so I’ve only met him a few times to help him out.” “Can’t you act like a man? Stop being so jealous for no reason. It’s really unattractive!” She frowns, looking disgusted. The last time I caught her lying about meeting Zack, she gave a similar excuse. But if they’re just friends, why does she keep lying over and over? Why does she come home later and later? I let out a bitter laugh, unable to hold back anymore. “Then let’s get divorced. Go find your ‘attractive’ Zack!” Her childhood sweetheart, whom she hasn’t seen in years, is nothing but a deadbeat who lives off his parents and spends his days and nights in bars and clubs. Yet somehow, she’s still drawn to him. “Divorce?” “Jack, stop acting like a jealous woman! Just because I came home a bit late, you’re talking about divorce? This will only make me hate you!” Claire grabs the water glass and smashes it on the ground. “I’m your wife, not your pet. You don’t get to control who I hang out with!” “Instead of watching me like a hawk every day, why don’t you focus on improving yourself?” After shouting, Claire storms into the guest room and locks the door. The heart I thought couldn’t hurt anymore suddenly aches again. She has a weak stomach, so I’ve cooked for her every day for 9 years. She has a princess complex, so I never forget to give her gifts on every holiday. Whatever she wants, I work myself to the bone to get it for her. But even so, I can’t replace her childhood sweetheart’s photo on her desk. “Sigh… Let it be.” I take a deep breath and start packing my bags. “Jack, it’s been so long. Why haven’t you come to comfort me yet?” “In the past, no matter how angry I got, you’d never leave me alone for more than 10 minutes.” “Do you really not want me anymore?” Looking at the messages Claire sent, I can imagine her tear-stained, pitiful face. I think back to last month when she lied about working overtime on a weekend. I saw her cuddling with Zack in a 24-hour bar, intimately embracing. At that moment, I seemed to go crazy and rushed over, grabbing Zack’s collar and demanding to know who he was. Claire panicked and pushed me away, firmly shielding Zack. “He’s my good friend! If there’s anything to discuss, let’s do it at home. Don’t make a scene and embarrass Zack here!” Her determination to protect Zack was just like how I used to protect her. Afterwards, she left with Zack, abandoning me, her husband, on the spot, like a joke watching his love walk away hand in hand with another man. That time, I first thought about divorce. But as soon as I brought it up, Claire locked herself in the guest room, crying and wailing. She said I was the one she loved most, and she only hid her meeting with an old friend because she didn’t want me to be angry. She said she had some drinks and her stomach hurt badly. After 9 years of love, my heart instantly crumbled at her tears. So I believed her one last time. But… There won’t be a second time. “Jack, you know I’m not asleep. Why aren’t you coming to comfort me?” “I really haven’t done anything to betray you with Zack. I won’t hide it from you when I meet him in the future, so you won’t be suspicious anymore.” “My stomach hurts again. Can you bring me another hangover pill?” When Claire came to me with teary eyes, I was writing her a note. It had recipes for her favorite foods. The dates of her menstrual cycle. The location of her stomach medicine and the dosage for each time… She never paid attention to these trivial life details, used to being pampered and cared for by me. “Didn’t I already tell you where the medicine is?” I handed her the note I’d written: “From now on… you’ll have to learn to take care of yourself.” Claire froze, not reaching out to take the note. I simply placed it on the table, stood up, and grabbed my suitcase to leave. Only then did she react, gently pulling at me, her red-rimmed eyes brimming with tears: “You even packed your bags? Do you really not want me anymore? Are you really divorcing me?” Her tears fell. In the past, when she cried like this, I would inevitably soften. But this time, I just calmly said: “Yes, Claire. I gave you chances. But now, I’ve had enough.” With that, I pushed her hand away without a hint of lingering attachment. “Enough, Jack! How many times do I have to tell you? Zack is my best friend. I haven’t betrayed you or done anything inappropriate!” Claire suddenly shouted out of control: “Yes, I’ve been closer to him, and we did have a relationship in the past, but that’s all in the past.” “If I really couldn’t let him go, why wouldn’t I just divorce you and be with Zack?” As she spoke, she angrily pushed me. The broken glass shards from earlier hadn’t been cleaned up, and I stepped on them, unable to react in time. They pierced through my shoe and deeply into the sole of my foot. Blood slowly seeped out, like a mirror reflecting my tall but thin figure. For these 9 years, I’ve treated Claire as the most important thing in my life, working myself to the bone to give her a better life, and taking on all the housework after getting off work. Without realizing it, my back had become slightly hunched from exhaustion. “I guess it’s because you’re used to being taken care of by me, treating me like a housekeeper…” Other than that, I couldn’t think of a second reason. “No, Jack, that’s not it.” “I’m with you because I love you. I can’t leave you…” Claire’s voice trembled slightly as she spoke, crouching down to examine the wound on the sole of my foot. There seemed to be a hint of concern in her eyes. “Jack, I’ll go get the first aid kit and bandage it for you.” Claire stood up and ran to the living room, but just as she opened the TV cabinet, her phone rang. She immediately forgot about my injury and ran to the bathroom to answer. The voice on the other end was loud, and I could tell it was a drunk Zack. “Do you have any money left, Claire? I couldn’t sleep because I missed you so much, so I went to the bar for a few drinks. But I accidentally drank too much and don’t have enough money…” As soon as Zack finished speaking, Claire rushed out of the bathroom, her eyes full of urgency as she ran to the entrance to change her shoes. Opening the door, she remembered me and gave me a casual glance. “Jack, can you bandage it yourself? I have an urgent matter to attend to, something very important.” I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “Go ahead, remember to drink some warm milk when you come back. You’ve been drinking and haven’t slept all night, your stomach will—” She didn’t even have the patience to listen to me finish and hurried off to Zack. It was clear who was more important in her heart. The blood on the sole of my foot spread again, forming the shape of a blood flower. As if mourning our completely dead marriage. Goodbye, Claire. I pushed my suitcase, waved goodbye to the home we’d lived in for 5 years, and left without any regrets.

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### She only begged me to stay after I had grown completely numb to her tears. But by then, there was no going back. I sat at the dining table, staring at the untouched meal in front of me. The food was growing colder with every passing minute, much like my heart. Today was my birthday. But it was also Sarah’s childhood friend Daniel’s birthday. I opened Daniel’s Instagram, already knowing what I’d find. Sure enough, there was a brand-new post on his feed: “Grateful for another birthday spent with you. Here’s to celebrating many more together!” The photo was simple: two hands forming a heart over a birthday cake. One of them was Sarah’s. She was wearing the necklace I had given her. I stared at the screen for a moment, then hit the “like” button. Setting my phone down, I swept all the dishes off the table—her favorite foods—and dumped them into the trash. Then I grabbed my keys and headed to a restaurant. This time, I ordered my own favorite meal to celebrate my birthday. From now on, I’ll make sure to enjoy every birthday for myself.

Halfway through dinner, my phone rang. It was Sarah, her voice tinged with urgency. “Matt, you saw Daniel’s Instagram post, didn’t you?” “I saw it.” “I’m spending his birthday with him, but I’ll come back after. Next year, I’ll celebrate with you instead, okay? Don’t get upset over this, alright? Be the bigger person.” In the past, I would’ve lost it—yelling, arguing, making a scene. But now, I didn’t have the energy for it anymore. “Okay,” I said simply. The next morning, around 7:00 AM, I was jolted awake by the sound of my phone ringing. It rang three times before stopping. I glanced at the screen—Sarah. She had this habit of calling me when she didn’t feel like using her key. Three rings, then she’d hang up, knowing I’d rush to the door no matter what I was doing. But not today. I tossed the phone aside, pulled the blanket over my head, and went back to sleep. The spare key was under the shoe rack by the door. She knew that. Last night, I’d been up until 3:00 AM packing. My head was still pounding. The phone rang a few more times, but I couldn’t even muster the energy to look at it. I don’t know how much time passed before I heard the sound of the door opening, followed by a loud thud as it slammed against the wall. Sarah stormed into the bedroom, shoving the door open with enough force to rattle the hinges. “Matt!” she snapped. “Why didn’t you open the door for me? I called you so many times! You know I hate using the key!” I opened my eyes, looked at her blankly, and said, “I was too tired. Didn’t hear it.” Sarah’s mouth opened as if to argue, but she finally just huffed and said, “I’m starving. Get up and make me some oatmeal. I didn’t sleep at all last night, so I need to eat and catch up on sleep.” In the past, I would’ve jumped out of bed and hurried to the kitchen, eager to please her. But now, I just said, “I’m tired too. Go grab something from the café downstairs.” Her face darkened with frustration, but she held it in. “Are you still mad about me not being with you on your birthday yesterday?” “No,” I replied calmly. “You’re overthinking it.” She didn’t believe me and continued, as if trying to justify herself. “Daniel is like a brother to me. His parents passed away when he was young—if I don’t celebrate his birthday with him, who will? Don’t be so petty. You’re better than this.” “You’re right,” I said. “It’s good that you were there for him. I’m not upset.” I got out of bed and headed toward the bathroom. Sarah grabbed my hand, reluctantly pulling something out of her pocket. “Here. Stop being moody. This is your birthday gift. I didn’t forget.” She handed me a cheap red string bracelet with a small metal charm dangling from it. “You’re in your zodiac year,” she said. “I thought this would bring you good luck.” I stared at the bracelet, the flimsy charm swaying as she held it out. It looked so thoughtless, especially compared to the expensive watch Daniel had posted on Instagram yesterday—the one she’d given him. I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly to myself. For months, I’d noticed Sarah cutting back on her spending. I’d convinced myself she was saving up for something special for my birthday. Turns out, I was just fooling myself. I glanced at my wrist, where I was already wearing the watch my mom had sent me last week. “Thanks,” I said. “But I already have a watch. I don’t think I’ll wear this. You keep it.” Sarah’s face twisted with anger. “You say you’re not mad, but now you’re being picky? You used to love everything I gave you, no matter how small. Why are you acting like this now?” She wasn’t wrong. Her gifts had always been cheap—trinkets that cost a few bucks, or sometimes nothing at all when she forgot. But I never minded. Every year, though, I went out of my way to make her birthday special. Just last week, I’d given her a gold necklace. Now, I was just too tired. Too drained to argue anymore. I took the bracelet and shoved it into my pocket. “Thanks,” I said flatly. I got dressed and headed for the door. “Where are you going?” Sarah asked, her voice sharp with suspicion. “To play basketball with some friends,” I replied. Since we’d started dating, every spare moment of my life had been hers. I gave up weekends, hobbies, and time with friends to entertain her, shop with her, and take care of her. Not anymore. From now on, I’m living for myself.

After an intense basketball game with my friends, we sat on the sidelines, drinking water and catching our breath. One of them teased, half-jokingly, “Man, we thought you’d forgotten about us ever since you got a girlfriend. We were about to stop inviting you altogether.” I laughed and quickly apologized. “My bad, guys. I promise it won’t happen again. Call me anytime—you’ve got my word.” “That’s more like it! Let’s go hit up the gaming café and play a few rounds.” When I was with Sarah, I could never fully fit into her circle of friends. And because of her, I’d slowly started drifting away from my own. Everything revolved around her. She was the center of my world, and I willingly let it happen. Looking back now, I can’t believe how foolish I was. By the time I got home, it was almost midnight. I opened the bedroom door and found Sarah sitting on the bed, arms crossed, her face clouded with irritation. “Matt, why are you just getting home? I had to order takeout for both lunch and dinner—it was disgusting!” I grabbed some clothes from the closet and shrugged. “I ate out at a restaurant today too. The food was pretty good—not bad at all, actually.” Sarah’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You used to say we should never eat takeout because it’s unhealthy. You promised me you’d cook every day so I wouldn’t have to.” “That was my mistake,” I replied calmly. “Living in this world, if you can’t cook, you’ve got to learn to live with takeout.” An angry spark lit up in her eyes. “You’re still mad, aren’t you? Don’t even try to deny it. You didn’t call or text me all day, and you didn’t come home to cook for me. How is that not being mad?” “I’m not mad,” I said evenly. “I was just out with my friends. My phone died, that’s all.” Sarah threw the blanket off, jumped out of bed, and grabbed my arm as I turned to leave. Her voice rose sharply. “Can you stop being so childish? How many times do I have to tell you—Daniel and I are just like brother and sister! Why are you still making a big deal out of this? I’m running out of patience, Matt!” I pulled my arm free. “I’m not making a big deal out of anything. I’m just tired. I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight.” With that, I grabbed my clothes and headed to the bathroom for a shower. Sarah shouted after me, but I didn’t bother responding. For the first time in years, I slept peacefully that night. Sarah has terrible sleeping habits; she kicks the blanket off multiple times a night. When we shared a bed, I’d always wake up to cover her back up, never managing to get a full night’s sleep myself. The next morning, Sarah was sitting in the living room with her arms crossed, her face dark and stormy. I knew she was waiting for me to apologize, to coax her out of her mood. In the past, whenever she was upset, I would swallow my pride, beg for her forgiveness, and do whatever it took to make her happy—even if I wasn’t wrong. Then she’d lay out a list of demands, and only once I’d fulfilled every single one would she reluctantly forgive me. That routine had gone on for years. But this time, I was done. I walked past her without a word, got ready for the day, and left the apartment. I had important things to take care of.

At work, I handed in my resignation letter. My manager was shocked and tried to convince me to stay, but I was firm. When I’d taken this job, it was because I wanted to be near Sarah, to take care of her. But that wasn’t necessary anymore. The night before, I’d called my parents over video chat and told them I was planning to move back home. I saw the tears of joy in my mom’s eyes. My dad hasn’t been in good health lately, and running the family’s small convenience store on his own has been taking a toll on him. “Home” isn’t some far-off rural place. It’s a small coastal city—quiet and comfortable. Sarah, on the other hand, is from the South. She loves her spicy food and always refused to move with me, saying she couldn’t handle the change in cuisine. So I’d left my family behind and moved here for her, building my life around hers. Now, that life was crumbling, and I was going back to the one place that had always been constant: home. That evening, I went out to dinner with my friends and told them about my plans. They all agreed I was making the right choice. “Your parents’ health comes first,” one of them said. After a few rounds of drinks, someone finally asked the question I’d been avoiding. “What about Sarah? Is she coming with you?” I was quiet for a moment before answering with a bitter smile. “No. We’ll probably break up.” For years, I’d believed we could build a home together here, and that one day I’d bring my parents to live with us. But now I knew better. That dream was gone. The home I wanted wasn’t here. It was the one with my parents, the one where love wasn’t conditional. When I got back to the apartment, Sarah was sitting on the couch in a white dress, her hair perfectly styled, her makeup flawless. She was holding her phone, smiling brightly as she FaceTimed Daniel. “Sarah, you’re stunning,” I heard him say. “Even in something as simple as a white dress, you look like an angel.” Sarah giggled, covering her face with her hand. “Really? You’re always so sweet with your compliments.” I stood silently in the doorway, watching. That dress wasn’t “simple.” It was the one I’d spent an entire month’s paycheck on, a gift I’d given her. When Sarah turned and saw me standing there, her smile vanished. She turned back to the phone. “I have to go now, Daniel. I’ll see you soon. Don’t forget to eat something before I get there.” She ended the call, gave me a look of pure disdain, then walked past me to put on her shoes. Without a word, she left the apartment. This was her usual pattern—silent treatment, passive-aggressive behavior, all over Daniel. In the past, I would’ve panicked, desperate to win her back. This time, I didn’t feel anything. I quietly unpacked the groceries I’d brought home and made myself a late-night snack. I hadn’t eaten much at dinner, and I was starving. Over the next few days, I focused on wrapping up work and packing my things. Little by little, my presence in the apartment grew smaller, but Sarah didn’t seem to notice.

Today, Sarah went out again to meet up with Daniel. I sat at the dining table, scrolling through my phone as I ate. Daniel had just posted on Instagram: “Every time I feel lonely, you’re always there for me. I’m so lucky. Grateful!” The photo showed Sarah and Daniel, their heads leaning together, both smiling and making peace signs at the camera. Sarah’s friends flooded the comments with likes and gushing messages, praising the “bond” they shared. They’d always said she and Daniel were meant to be together. Childhood friends, practically soulmates—they made it sound like I was the outsider who’d come in and ruined their perfect story. Looking at that post, I realized they weren’t wrong. They did look more like a couple than we ever did. In the past, I used to keep my feelings bottled up for as long as I could before gently reminding Sarah to set some boundaries with Daniel, to avoid giving people the wrong impression. Her friends always mocked me for it, calling me controlling and possessive, accusing me of stifling Sarah and cutting her off from her friends. Sarah never defended me. Instead, she joined in, scolding me for being overbearing and telling me to give her more space. On Daniel’s post, Sarah had left a comment: “You’re always there for me, too!” I closed the app without a second thought, stood up, and started clearing the table. Outside, thunder rumbled. Rain was coming. I went to the balcony to bring in the laundry, and just as I finished, heavy raindrops began pounding against the windows. In the past, a rainy night like this would’ve had me scrambling to call Sarah, asking where she was so I could take an umbrella and pick her up. I couldn’t bear the thought of her getting even a little wet. She and her friends used to laugh at me for it, calling me a “hovering mom,” saying I worried too much and ruined the fun of their nights out. This time, I just took a shower, climbed into bed, and scrolled through some videos until I drifted off. The sound of Sarah slamming my bedroom door woke me up. She stormed in, furious. “Matt, it’s pouring outside, and your girlfriend still isn’t home. Don’t you care at all? If it were my friends’ boyfriends, they’d be calling nonstop, asking where they were, and showing up with umbrellas. But you? Nothing!”

I blinked, surprised by the anger in her voice. I couldn’t understand why she was so upset. I thought back to a similar night, years ago, when it was raining and Sarah was out with Daniel. I’d called her several times, asking where she was and when she’d be home. I even offered to pick her up. She’d snapped at me, saying I was being ridiculous. “Daniel’s here,” she’d said. “He’ll drop me off. Stop worrying so much.” She accused me of being jealous, claiming I just couldn’t stand the idea of her spending time with Daniel. She said my need for control was suffocating her. Now that I was giving her the freedom she’d asked for, she was mad at me for not calling. I couldn’t figure out what she wanted from me anymore. Calmly, I replied, “You’re with Daniel. I don’t have anything to worry about. Stay out as long as you want—he’ll make sure you get home safely.” Sarah’s eyes widened, stunned. Maybe she was surprised by how casually I mentioned Daniel’s name, or by how unconcerned I seemed about them spending so much time together. Her expression shifted, and she quickly offered an explanation. “Today’s the anniversary of Daniel’s mom’s passing,” she said. “He’s been really upset, and as his friend, I couldn’t just leave him alone. You understand, right? Please don’t take it the wrong way.” I nodded, my voice steady. “I understand. It’s a hard day for him. You’re right to stay with him.” My calm response seemed to throw her off. She studied my face, searching for any sign of anger or jealousy, but found none. Her tone softened as she said, “Matt, I bought a new set of pajamas today—black lace. Do you want to see how they look? You can tell me if they’re a good fit.” I glanced at her, caught off guard. This was unusual. Sarah never apologized or extended an olive branch unless I begged her to. She always held the upper hand, making me grovel before she’d agree to forgive me. Now, she was reaching out first, trying to make peace. But I pretended not to notice the meaning behind her words. “There’s no need,” I said flatly. “If you like them, that’s all that matters. Go back to your room and get some sleep.”

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My parents got divorced. The court granted my custody to my mom, but I stayed with my dad for the sake of my education. The big house we’re living in now was transferred to my name after my parents reached an agreement. After my dad remarried, my stepmom moved in with her daughter. The little brat started causing trouble and even asked my dad to arrange for her to be in the same class as me, under the pretext of taking care of her. After a fight with my stepmom and her daughter, I changed the password on the smart lock, set the central air conditioning to 90 degrees Fahrenheit, and then went to my grandparents’ house in the countryside with all the remote controls for the household appliances. With the summer heat in River City reaching nearly 104 degrees Fahrenheit, they were stuck with the heating on. When they called me, I was sitting in my grandpa’s recliner, munching on ice-cold watermelon. After my dad remarried, my stepmom Lily moved in with her daughter Zoe. We didn’t get along at all. I had always been the apple of my family’s eye, and everything at home revolved around me. But ever since Zoe came to our house, she wanted a share of everything I had, even trying to claim my things as her own. I heard that Zoe’s biological father was a gambling addict who sold everything valuable in their house. He even almost pawned his wife and child to loan sharks. So, she was incredibly envious of how my family doted on me. On her first day at our house, when she saw my bedroom – the largest in the house with the best view, and even its own bathroom and walk-in closet – she clung to my dad with a pitiful look and said, “Dad Jack, I’m so envious of Ava. She gets to live in such a big room. I’ve never had my own room my entire life.” My dad patted her shoulder sympathetically and then turned to me, saying, “Ava, why don’t you let your sister have your room? She’s never lived in such a big house before.” I scoffed, “Is it my fault she’s never lived in a big house? Why should I give up my room for her? Just because she calls you ‘Dad Jack’ doesn’t mean you’re her real father. Why don’t you two get a DNA test? Maybe she really is your biological daughter!” Before my dad could respond, I turned to Zoe and said, “Let me tell you something. This house was bought by my dad and my mom together. Now it’s in my name. It’s already generous of me to let you and your mom live here. If you’re not happy with it, you can leave. Don’t be so picky.” Seeing the tense atmosphere, Lily quickly came over to smooth things over. She laughed awkwardly and said, “No, no, we don’t need to take your room. The guest room is fine too. It’s much bigger than our old place.” Zoe wiped away non-existent tears and nodded, following Lily to the guest room. My parents met in college. My grandparents on my mom’s side were university professors, so naturally, my mom was very accomplished. My dad came from a poor background but studied very hard, so my grandparents approved of their relationship when my parents got together. It wasn’t until after they got married that my mom realized my dad was weak-willed and indecisive, and a total mama’s boy. My mom had received higher education in the city, while my paternal grandmother was uneducated and very traditional, always trying to change my mom’s ways. So, their relationship as mother-in-law and daughter-in-law was always tense. My dad always sided with his mother, expecting my mom to give in to grandma in everything. That’s why my mom chose to divorce him. It wasn’t until I was in 11th grade that my dad married Zoe’s mom, and Zoe moved into our house. After the divorce, my mom went abroad to develop her career. My maternal grandparents had always loved rural life, so they returned to their countryside home after retirement. Although I was legally under my mom’s custody, I still lived with my dad for the convenience of schooling. “Ava, Zoe is your sister. You shouldn’t be so harsh to her,” my dad came to lecture me after they went back to their room. I flipped through the book in my hand, not even bothering to look up. “Mom only had me. I don’t have any sister.” Knowing my temperament, my dad could only shake his head helplessly and then said, “Zoe has transferred to your school and should be in your class. You can take care of her a bit, right?” “She’s in my school? Who’s paying for her tuition? You or her dad?” I asked. The high school I attended was a private school with excellent teaching quality and a nice environment, so the tuition wasn’t cheap. Zoe’s dad owed a ton of debt and definitely couldn’t afford the tuition, and as for her mom, she didn’t seem to have a job at the moment. “Your Aunt Lily has found a job and starts tomorrow, so she’ll pay for Zoe’s tuition. I’ll only cover her daily expenses. After all, we’re married now, and it doesn’t feel right to be too calculative about these small matters. Dad hopes you can understand,” my dad replied. I nodded, indicating that I was fine with it. “But my allowance needs to increase.” My dad fondly patted my head and said, “No problem.” Just when I was relieved that this new sister, though a bit annoying at first, seemed okay after a few days of living together, she started causing trouble. Although my mom worked abroad, she still sent me gifts every month, mostly jewelry and clothes. I kept them all carefully in my room. Every time I opened a package, Zoe would come over to look. I had reminded her not to enter my room without permission, and she had obediently agreed. Until one summer day, I accidentally discovered a selfie in her social media posts. She was wearing a dress from a niche luxury brand. It happened to be exactly the same as the birthday gift my mom had sent me last year. When I got home and opened my closet, the dress was indeed missing. During dinner that evening, I pretended to casually mention that I had seen her photo and asked Zoe, “Your dress is very pretty. When did you buy it?” A flash of panic crossed her face as she stammered, “Just… just a while ago. I bought it randomly while shopping.” “Isn’t that dress quite expensive? Since when did you have so much money?” I continued to ask. Unexpectedly, Zoe suddenly got angry and slammed the table. “Why do you keep asking? Can’t I buy clothes? Are you jealous that I have nice things?” “I’m just asking because I just lost a dress exactly like yours,” I explained. “You lost something and you’re questioning me? I’ve never been in your room!” she shouted self-righteously. I nodded, “If you’ve never been in my room, then there must be a thief in the house. The price of the dress I lost is enough to file a police report.” I said as I took out my phone, preparing to call the police. “Why are you calling the police? I… I thought the dress looked nice, so I wanted to borrow it,” Zoe tried to grab my phone but I dodged her. “Borrow? Did you ask me? Did I agree? Taking without asking is stealing!” I retorted. “You’re being too harsh! I just wore it once! I was going to return it to you!” Zoe yelled at me. “Where’s the dress? Give it back to me!” I extended my hand towards her. She reluctantly took out a crumpled dress from her backpack and handed it to me. The brand new dress now had a large tear in it. “I… I accidentally damaged it,” she said, her voice filled with guilt. “I had never worn this dress. It cost $1,280. Pay up,” I said, putting the dress back in her hands. “How can it be over a thousand dollars? Just say you want to extort money from me!” Zoe jumped up angrily when she heard the price. I couldn’t be bothered to argue with her. I went back to my room and found the receipt, then handed it to her. To my surprise, she snatched the receipt and tore it into pieces, then threw it along with the dress into the trash can. She said smugly, “Now there’s no receipt, and your dress is just garbage. I won’t pay for it.” The birthday gift from my mom that I hadn’t even worn myself, she ruined it and called it garbage. Filled with rage, I raised my hand and slapped her hard across the face. Zoe was stunned for a few seconds before she started fighting back. Just then, Lily came home from work and saw us wrestling on the floor. She rushed over to pull us apart. On the surface, she was breaking up the fight, but she was actually pinching my soft waist several times. So I simply started fighting both of them indiscriminately. Seeing that I was attacking without discrimination, Lily also began to pull my hair. While fighting, she cursed, “You little bitch, your dad is on a business trip, and no one can protect you now. You’ve been so arrogant towards us. If I don’t beat you to death today, I’m not Lily!” I couldn’t fight both of them alone. Seizing the opportunity, I bit down hard on Lily’s thigh. She screamed, pounding on me to make me let go, but the more she and Zoe hit me, the harder I bit down, until my mouth was filled with the taste of blood. Only when Lily and Zoe let go did I release my bite, wiping the blood from the corner of my mouth. While they went to the hospital to get bandaged, I quickly went back to my room to pack my luggage. The next day, I woke up early. While Lily and her daughter were still asleep, I set the central air conditioning temperature to 90 degrees Fahrenheit and packed all the remote controls and keys into my suitcase. Before leaving, I changed the password on the smart lock and locked the door. The smart lock couldn’t be opened from the inside without the password. With the summer heat in River City reaching nearly 104 degrees Fahrenheit, you two can enjoy yourselves at home. After doing all this, I dragged my suitcase out, my hair messy and clothes torn from yesterday’s fight with Lily and her daughter. To exit the community, I had to pass through a small park within the complex. At this time, it was when the elderly residents did their morning exercises. We had lived in this community for a long time. My parents were kind people, and I often tutored the neighborhood kids because of my good grades, so many residents knew me. I walked towards the main gate, crying. Soon, I was stopped by someone. “Oh my, isn’t this the little girl from the Ava’s family? What happened to you?” an old lady asked me. I shook my head, wiping my tears without saying a word. I knew this old lady. Her name was Mrs. Johnson, and she lived in apartment 301 of our building. “Where’s your dad? Who bullied you? Tell me, grandma will stand up for you,” Mrs. Johnson said, holding my hand sympathetically. At the mention of my dad, I cried even louder, saying I missed my parents. Hearing the commotion, people nearby gathered around, asking what had happened. Between sobs, I told them about yesterday’s events. During my story, a kind-hearted aunt, knowing I hadn’t eaten, even gave me two sandwiches. I cried while saying I couldn’t stay in that house anymore and was going to find my grandparents. The aunt who gave me the sandwiches was Mrs. Brown, known in our community for being gossipy but kind-hearted. After hearing my story, Mrs. Brown slapped her thigh and said, “I knew that mother and daughter weren’t good people. When they first moved in, they were so unfriendly when I greeted them. I can’t believe they would bully the child like this when her father is away. They really have no conscience!” “That’s right, no stepmother truly cares for her stepchild. Poor Ava,” someone else chimed in. “She’s a mother herself, how could she do such a thing?” another person added. Mrs. Johnson combed my messy hair while speaking, and Mrs. Brown went home to get some iodine to disinfect the scratches on my neck. After Mrs. Brown finished treating my wounds, I stood up and bowed to thank everyone, saying I was going to stay at my grandparents’ house. As I left the community, I could still hear indignant discussions behind me. You’ve messed with the wrong person. The neighbors’ gossip alone will drown you. Just as I got into the car, Lily’s call came through. I hung up and then turned off my phone.

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