During my shift, a woman suddenly burst in, insisting on having an abortion.
I looked at her medical history and frowned.
Nora Yuvette, 42 years old, 6 abortions in the past 6 months.
“Have you really thought this through? Your body has been severely damaged. If you go through with this, it’ll be very difficult for you to conceive again in the future.”
The woman didn’t hesitate for a second. She was even smiling.
“I don’t like children, and I never planned to have any. It’s just that my boyfriend has such a high sex drive and refuses to wear condoms. Since he knows how to please me in bed, I guess I’ll put up with it.”
This was a patient’s private matter. I didn’t push further.
I only reminded her after the surgery to stay in the hospital for observation for a while.
But she quickly threw on her coat.
“I need to get back to my boyfriend. He just won first place in the annual Teacher of the Year award today. I should reward him properly.”
At those words, I froze completely.
My boyfriend’s message was still sitting unread on my phone.
“Honey, I won first place today! My colleagues are insisting on celebrating together, so I won’t be coming home tonight. Don’t wait up for me.”
In that instant, my mind went completely blank.
I couldn’t process what was happening.
Nora kept chattering away.
It sounded like complaining.
But her face couldn’t hide her smile.
“He has severe sleep disorder. He needs to hold me every time to fall asleep. Says my scent calms him down, especially down there.”
“Just now he texted me, told me not to shower. He likes me all natural.”
When our eyes met, I could only smile awkwardly.
Kieran Smith also had severe insomnia.
I couldn’t accept this for a moment.
Before my brain could catch up, my hand reached for the bracelet Nora had left on the desk.
While she wasn’t paying attention, I slipped it into my pocket.
An hour later, I called her.
“Miss Yuvette, you left your bracelet in my office.”
“I just got off work. If you give me your address, I can drop it off for you.”
My voice trembled as I spoke.
One hand gripped the phone while the other dug into my arm, trying to keep myself calm.
Nora agreed without thinking twice and sent me her address.
I gasped.
A luxury villa in the city center, less than 2 kilometers from Kieran Smith’s school.
As I walked, my heart felt like someone was squeezing it. Even breathing became difficult.
I kept reassuring myself.
Maybe it was just someone with the same name.
Kieran wasn’t the only one who won first place.
But an uneasy feeling kept gnawing at me.
Even standing at the door, I couldn’t find the courage to knock.
Then voices drifted from inside the room.
“Nora, what took you so long to come back? I’ve been missing you.”
“You can’t leave early today. You have to keep me company.”
Instantly, I froze completely.
That was Kieran Smith’s voice.
But it sounded nothing like what I usually heard from him.
It was so sweet it could drip honey.
I couldn’t imagine Kieran acting cute.
In an instant, my stomach churned violently.
Bitterness surged up my throat.
My legs went weak. I could only lean against the wall and slide to the ground.
Before long, disgusting moans reached my ears.
“Stop it, someone’s coming over soon.”
“Oh, doesn’t that make it more exciting?”
Kieran’s voice was like invisible hands tearing my heart into pieces.
Kieran and I had met through a blind date.
The first time we met, he wore a white shirt. He was well-spoken and never crossed any boundaries.
My first impression of him was that he was clean.
Later, he proved to be just that.
His bag always held tissues, an umbrella, and hair ties.
When I worked overtime, he’d bring me a hot meal.
He’d wait 6 hours without a single complaint.
He had boundaries.
Six months into our relationship, we shared our first kiss. He was so careful, like he was holding a piece of jade.
After 2 years together, we had our first time.
His movements were gentle. When he saw me frown, he’d stop and ask if it hurt.
My friends all thought I’d found a normal person and was in a healthy relationship.
I thought so too.
He was a teacher, I was a doctor.
Everything seemed perfect.
A month ago, on our 6th anniversary, we got engaged.
But now, my fiancé was on the other side of this wall.
Holding another woman.
They were being rough. They knocked over a vase.
“Another new position? Do you ever think about how old I am?”
Kieran was breathing heavily, showing no signs of stopping.
“But it feels so good like this.”
In my memory, Kieran only ever used one position.
Back then, I had even asked him about it.
He just smiled.
Said he didn’t like all those new tricks.
Thinking about this, I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly.
So it wasn’t that he didn’t like them. He just didn’t want to with me.
Inside, they continued.
My phone rang at that moment.
“Dr. Johnson, how much longer until you arrive?”
I stared at my phone for a long time, typing and deleting messages.
Tears dripped onto my phone screen. Everything blurred.
6 years of feelings turned to nothing.
I couldn’t accept it. I couldn’t bear it.
Listening to the sounds from inside, I finally made up my mind.
I dialed a number.
“I want to report something.”
I left in a daze.
I almost got into a car accident on the way.
Even that couldn’t pull me back to reality.
Not until I returned home, to the wedding home that belonged to Kieran Smith and me.
I had designed this room myself, taking time out of my schedule.
I’d put thought into every detail.
I deliberately kept the room with the best sunlight for Kieran’s study.
Just because he once said he loved watching sunlight fall on book pages.
The wall directly across was empty.
It was meant for our wedding photo.
I’d been torn between 2 wedding dresses.
Kieran just said to follow my heart.
But soon after, he booked both styles.
“Do you like it? I specially prepared a surprise for you.”
“I know you’ve been torn. We can afford it. If you like them, we can do 10 more sets!”
To look good in the wedding photos, I’d started dieting early.
But he disagreed.
He thought dieting was too unhealthy.
So he started making me healthy homemade meals that were both delicious and healthy.
No matter how busy Kieran was, he never half-assed things for me.
Even today was no exception.
The food on the table was still warm.
A note lay beside it.
“Just reheat it yourself if it gets cold.”
“Be good, I’ll be back soon.”
Kieran’s love for me was always obvious.
I only had to reach out to feel it.
Didn’t he love me? Didn’t he want to marry me?
Then why was he with Nora Yuvette?
What did that make me?
I couldn’t figure it out.
In my mind, memories of Kieran and Nora’s face all tangled together.
For a moment, my head throbbed painfully.
I collapsed completely, slumping to the floor.
Tears broke through the dam. I couldn’t hold back anymore.
Until my phone rang.
It was from the report hotline I’d called that afternoon.
I immediately broke out in a cold sweat.
I didn’t dare face it, but still instinctively answered.
The voice on the other end was cold, even carrying a hint of anger.
“Ms. Johnson, we’ve sent people to investigate. There was no illegal activity.”
“Mr. Kieran Smith and Ms. Nora Yuvette are legally married.”
Instantly, my mind buzzed.
The next second, my phone crashed to the floor.
How could this be?
My whole body began trembling uncontrollably.
I replayed that person’s words in my mind over and over.
Each time I recalled it, it was like pouring salt on a wound.
It hurt so much.
Everything spun before my eyes.
In the empty room, only my heavy breathing remained.
Just then, the door was pushed open.
I turned around and met Kieran Smith’s cold gaze.
He looked down at me.
Seeing me collapsed on the floor, there wasn’t a trace of pity in his eyes.
“It hurts, doesn’t it?”
“Then don’t do things like that again.”
It was as if nothing had happened.
He took off his coat and changed into slippers.
Kieran calmly walked into the bathroom to wash his hands.
After tidying up, he walked over to me.
“Actually, I’ve wanted to tell you for a while. I just couldn’t find the right opportunity.”
“Nora and I have been together for 4 years. We got married last year.”
He spoke lightly.
Like he was talking about something completely ordinary.
We’d been together for 6 years, and he’d been cheating for 4 of them.
I had so much to say.
But it all stuck in my throat.
They were married. Protected by law.
Did that make me the mistress?
I started vomiting uncontrollably.
Kieran smelled exactly like Nora.
The flush on his cheeks hadn’t completely faded.
I stared at him, forcing myself to stay calm.
“Then what am I? You fell in love with someone else, so why didn’t you say anything?”
With every word I spoke, my heart bled.
But Kieran’s face showed no emotion.
He even seemed to be reminiscing.
“Gianna Johnson, you don’t need to talk to me like that.”
“You think that necklace around your neck and those designer bags in your closet fell from the sky? I’m just an ordinary person who wants a better life. What’s wrong with that?”
“Even if I cheated, I never treated you poorly, did I? I took you on trips abroad. I served you like a princess every day. Isn’t that enough?”
As he spoke, he suddenly bent down and helped me up.
A playful glint appeared in his eyes.
His hand gently brushed across my forehead, straightening my messy hair.
“Gianna, actually, I’ve already prepared a parting gift for you.”
“Nora’s family is really wealthy, and they treat their employees well. Her driver, Wade Davis, makes over 10,000 a month.”
“I’ve arranged everything. In a couple of days, you’ll marry Wade. At least you’ll have a good life from now on.”
Kieran’s voice was especially gentle.
Just listening to his tone, you’d really think he had my best interests at heart.
How ridiculous.
I wasn’t his property. Why should I follow his arrangements?
“Kieran Smith, you’re truly despicable.”
Those words completely killed any desire I had to argue with him.
He had become a completely different person.
The good man in my memory gradually blurred.
Or rather, this was who he’d always been.
He’d just hidden it too well.
6 years, wasted on a jerk.
Looking at his shameless face, my blood boiled.
I spat right in his face.
The next second, Kieran’s expression changed completely.
When he turned back, his face had turned vicious.
“Who are you trying to act pure for?”
“When you were with Wade Davis, weren’t you moaning loud enough?”
As he spoke, he actually pulled out surveillance footage.
He laughed wildly.
“I knew you’d say that.”
“So on our engagement day, the person in bed with you wasn’t me at all.”
I didn’t listen to the rest of Kieran’s words.
I ran out just before throwing up again.
Scenes from our engagement day kept flashing through my mind.
Kieran had been especially excited.
He drank glass after glass and kept pouring wine into my cup.
I couldn’t stop him.
I drank until I was completely out of it.
The last thing I remembered before passing out was Kieran carrying me into the room.
Turns out, he personally delivered me to another man’s bed.
Realizing I’d spent an entire night with a stranger, I threw up.
My whole body shook uncontrollably.
I leaned against a flower bed, crying until I couldn’t breathe.
Too absorbed in my pain, I didn’t even notice someone quietly approaching from behind.
Not until that shrill laugh reached my ears.
I turned around and met Nora Yuvette’s eyes.
She was covering her mouth, laughing. Her eyes couldn’t hide her smugness.
“So you’re his little girlfriend. What a coincidence.”
“No wonder your face looked so awful this afternoon when you heard me talking. Kieran’s never treated you that way, has he!”
I figured she’d come to pick a fight too.
But the anger on her face completely disappeared when she saw me.
I didn’t want her to see me like this.
So I forced myself to stand up and face her.
My brain told me I should curse her out, vent properly.
But when the words reached my lips, I couldn’t say them.
“When you got together with him, did you know he had a girlfriend?”
I tried to appear strong, but my voice trembled as soon as I spoke.
Even in this moment, I still wanted to find excuses for this relationship.
But seeing Nora’s arrogant face, I understood.
“Of course I knew. So what?”
“Young guys throw themselves at me every day. They don’t care about their girlfriends, so why should I care?”
“I suggest you stop dwelling on this. He and I are already married anyway.”
“Just go along with Wade. He’s a bit older, sure, but he’s more than good enough for you.”
She laughed wildly.
Her tone carried an undeniable authority.
As soon as she finished speaking, she actually reached out and grabbed me.
Without another word, she tried to shove me into the car.
“The first time you didn’t even see his face. How boring.”
“I’m calling Wade right now. Let you two lovebirds enjoy yourselves properly.”
In that moment, I completely snapped out of it.
Seeing her raise her phone, I actually laughed.
Did she really think I was some pushover?
Dream on.
I grabbed a wooden stick from the bushes and swung it at her face with all my strength.
The stick even had thorns on it.
In an instant, it left a mark on her cheek.
Blood fell, staining the wild grass.
“Are you crazy? Believe it or not, one phone call and I’ll make sure you never work again!”
Nora didn’t even have time to cry out in pain before dialing a number.
“Mr. Johnson, someone bullied me!”
🌟 Continue the story here
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I married incredibly well. My in-laws are one of the most prominent, old-money families in the city.
My husband is completely obsessed with me and hangs onto my every word. My mother-in-law, though initially a bit skeptical of my background, is a dignified woman who never nitpicks or makes my life difficult.
Then one day, my father-in-law’s manipulative, two-faced stepsister returned from abroad. My mother-in-law was tormented by this aging drama queen day and night.
And so, I stepped in.
1
My dad is a classic nouveau riche.
In his early years, he hit the jackpot in real estate and scored a few incredibly lucky business deals, amassing a fortune in the tens of millions.
My mom was his first wife. After she caught him cheating, she dumped him, took a massive divorce settlement, and moved to Europe to live her best life.
She gave up custody of me, but before she left, she gave me a brainwashing pep talk.
“I’m not taking you with me, Chloe. If you stay with your dad, you’ll live in luxury. If you come with me, you’ll just suffer.”
“Remember this, Chloe! If we were living a century ago, you’d be the legitimate eldest daughter of the estate. Guard your inheritance. Do not let those manipulative little mistresses and their illegitimate brats squander your father’s fortune!”
I was 8 years old.
She planted a seed of war in my heart and gracefully walked away.
Soon enough, my dad married his second wife, then his third. After divorcing the third, he suddenly realized that marriage, aside from splitting his assets, had absolutely no meaning.
He stopped getting married, but he always had a steady rotation of girlfriends. As for my half-siblings—the ones I can name and the ones I can’t—there’s a whole army of them.
Growing up in this chaotic, shark-tank of a household…
I honed my combat skills to the absolute highest tier.
No matter what flavor of fake-innocent, manipulative, victim-playing “mean girl” crossed my path, if they dared mess with me, I’d skin them alive.
Every stepmom, mistress, and half-sibling trembled in my presence.
My dad was actually incredibly proud of this. He’d say, “That’s my girl! A tiger father doesn’t raise a weak kitten! When you get married, I won’t have to worry about a thing. Nobody in your in-laws’ family will ever dare to bully you.”
But I ended up marrying way too well.
My elite combat skills were rendered completely useless.
2
My husband, Carter, and I were college sweethearts.
The Sterlings are an elite, old-money family of intellectuals. My father-in-law, Richard Sterling, is the chairman of a massive pharmaceutical conglomerate. My mother-in-law, Eleanor, is an esteemed professor at a top-tier medical school.
Whether you looked at pedigree or pure assets, the Sterlings were entirely out of my family’s league.
My mother-in-law wasn’t exactly thrilled with my background, but Carter was hopelessly obsessed with me.
So, we got married anyway.
Terrified that his mother would make my life miserable, Carter suggested we move into our own place. I shot that down immediately.
Please. I’m a battlefield veteran. Am I supposed to be scared of a little family friction?
Eleanor is your textbook intellectual—proper, dignified, and principled. Even though she wasn’t a fan of my roots, she never actively picked fights or made snide remarks. After living together for a few months, we actually coexisted quite peacefully.
Just as I was starting to feel that the life of a wealthy housewife was a bit too boring and wanted to find some drama… my father-in-law’s stepsister, Seraphina, returned from abroad.
My father-in-law went to the airport to pick her up himself.
At the lavish welcome-home banquet thrown in her honor, I took one look at this “step-aunt” and instantly understood the assignment.
Ah, so she’s the legendary, elusive first love. Her face was a perfect blend of innocence and seduction. A single glance from her was enough to captivate a room. She wore a flowing white dress that perfectly hugged her curves. Even though she was forty-four, she took such incredible care of herself that she easily looked like she was in her early thirties.
Most of the guests at the banquet were my father-in-law’s childhood friends. These older men, who were all ruthless titans in their respective industries, surrounded Seraphina like she was the center of the universe.
She smiled radiantly, acting every bit the enchanting goddess.
Until my mother-in-law, Eleanor, appeared, holding Richard’s arm.
Seraphina’s smile hitched, the corners of her mouth slowly dropping.
She immediately adopted a humble posture, bowing her head slightly to offer Eleanor a toast: “Sister-in-law, I toast you. Thank you for taking such good care of my brother all these years while I was abroad.”
Her stance was subservient, her features delicate, and she looked utterly pitiful.
Eleanor looked a bit uncomfortable, but not wanting to make a scene, she reached out to accept the glass.
But Richard stepped forward, snatched the glass from Seraphina’s hand, and frowned. “Seraphina, what are you doing? Your health is poor, you shouldn’t be drinking. We’re all family here, a simple hello is enough.”
Seraphina looked deeply moved. She gazed up at him, and her eyes instantly pooled with tears.
Shimmering and heartbreaking.
Eleanor’s face went chalk-white, but she forced herself to maintain a polite, dignified smile.
I stood off to the side, watching with immense entertainment.
This familiar, manipulative flavor… this exact playbook. It was a carbon copy of the tactics used by my dad’s third, fourth, fifth, and sixth mistresses.
This step-aunt was coming in hot.
I wondered if my dignified mother-in-law could withstand this kind of assault.
A high-society senior romance drama, complete with a hint of taboo pseudo-incest?
Oh, I was definitely going to enjoy this show.
3
A few days later, Carter returned from a business trip, and I immediately started gossiping with him about his step-aunt.
Unfortunately, Carter didn’t know much.
And he had zero interest in gossip, though he had plenty of interest in me.
He took off his gold-rimmed glasses, his voice dropping into a husky, seductive register: “Chloe, I was gone for three days. Didn’t you miss me at all?”
And then I pinned him to the bed and we did that all night long.
When the sky outside began to lighten, he finally let me go, kissing my cheek in complete satisfaction: “If you really want to know the drama, go ask Martha. She’s been with the Sterling family forever.”
My eyes, which had looked like a dead fish a second ago, instantly lit up with excitement.
Carter let out a low chuckle.
The next day, I learned the incredibly messy, unspoken history of the Sterling family from Martha.
Years ago, Seraphina wasn’t a Sterling. She was Seraphina Miller.
Her father was Grandpa Sterling’s most trusted right-hand man.
When Seraphina was ten, a business rival hired a hitman to take out Grandpa Sterling. Her father took the bullet, saving Grandpa’s life. On his deathbed, he entrusted his wife and daughter to the Sterlings.
A life debt is heavier than a mountain.
Driven by immense guilt, Grandpa Sterling took care of the Miller mother and daughter, giving them whatever they wanted.
Seraphina’s mother was beautiful and gentle. As the days turned into years, her caretaking eventually moved into the bedroom.
One was divorced, the other was a widow—it was a perfect match. They decided to get married.
Grandpa was incredibly devoted. Afraid his new wife would be looked down upon, he threw a massively extravagant wedding to show her status. He even made a huge spectacle of changing his stepdaughter’s last name to Sterling, adding her to the family trust, and raising her as his own flesh and blood.
Seraphina was fifteen that year.
From a fatherless stray, she morphed overnight into the most pampered princess of the Sterling family.
But there was one person who was furious about this.
Grandpa’s only son, Richard.
Richard was two years older than Seraphina. As a rebellious teenage heir, he was arrogant and untamed. He gave his father zero respect and constantly antagonized his new stepmother and stepsister, making their lives miserable.
But Seraphina clearly understood her and her mother’s precarious position.
Her mother had injured her body giving birth to her and couldn’t have any more children. Richard was the only son. He was the future head of the Sterling empire; he was the golden ticket they needed to cling to.
Once Seraphina figured this out, she started intentionally catering to Richard.
She made him lunches, and even when he threw them in the trash right in front of her, she never got angry. Whatever he liked to study, she studied too, just so they could have common ground.
Slowly but surely, the massive walls Richard had built around his heart began to crumble.
4
At this point in the story, Martha couldn’t help but roll her eyes: “Both mother and daughter were manipulative foxes, spending every waking hour figuring out how to control men.”
Martha was a loyal servant brought in by Richard’s biological mother.
It made perfect sense that she couldn’t stand Seraphina and her mom.
I was completely engrossed and asked eagerly: “And then? Did my father-in-law and Seraphina get together?”
Martha scoffed in disgust: “Get together, my foot. Seraphina was a master manipulator. She knew exactly how men work: what they can’t have is always more agonizingly desirable than what they easily get.”
So, Seraphina and Richard danced around this ambiguous “will-they-won’t-they” phase for years until Grandpa Sterling found out.
Grandpa marrying his best friend’s widow was scandalous enough, but he absolutely refused to let his son be part of a scandal.
Even though Seraphina had no blood relation to them, she was legally a Sterling daughter.
A romantic relationship between siblings was a disgrace he would never tolerate.
To nip it in the bud, he swiftly arranged an engagement between Richard and Eleanor.
Richard initially wanted to refuse, but Seraphina played the victim, saying she only ever wanted to be his sister for the rest of their lives. Plus, Eleanor was the bride chosen by his parents, so he eventually accepted the arrangement.
Eleanor had harbored a crush on Richard for years. Oblivious to the dark family drama, she thought she had finally won the love of her life and was blissfully happy.
But the years that followed were pure agony.
Richard’s special treatment of Seraphina was glaringly obvious to anyone with eyes.
At first, Eleanor tried to lie to herself. But eventually, she couldn’t keep up the charade. Just as she was planning to call off the engagement, disaster struck the Sterling family. Their company’s capital chain broke, and they were on the verge of bankruptcy.
To make matters worse, Grandpa Sterling fell severely ill and was rushed to the ICU.
While the Sterling family was teetering on the edge of ruin, Seraphina suddenly got married. The groom was a wealthy heir who had been obsessed with her for years.
They had a flash marriage, and she immediately moved to Canada with her new husband.
The betrayal destroyed Richard, leaving him entirely broken.
At that critical moment, Eleanor stepped up.
She officially married Richard, throwing a high-profile wedding to announce it to the media. The Harrington and Sterling families quickly formed a massive business alliance. With the financial backing of Eleanor’s family, the Sterlings survived the crisis.
After they got married, Richard seemed like a completely different person.
The rebellious, arrogant young master transformed into a mature, quiet man.
He spoiled Eleanor rotten.
He never confined her to the house to be a trophy wife; he supported and encouraged her to pursue her career in medicine.
They soon had a child together—Carter.
Over all these years, Seraphina had only returned once, when her mother died, accompanied by her husband for the funeral.
At the funeral, the brother and sister acted like complete strangers. This finally allowed the anxious Eleanor to breathe a sigh of relief.
After that day, it seemed Richard had completely forgotten about Seraphina.
So, here was the million-dollar question:
They hadn’t seen each other in over a decade, and there was so much bad blood between them. Why, when Seraphina returned this time, did my usually stoic father-in-law personally pick her up and defend her so fiercely?
5
That mystery was solved very quickly.
The entire basement of the Sterling estate had been converted into a massive library.
I was down there studying for the Bar Exam.
Not long after I sat down, I heard the voices of Seraphina and Richard coming from upstairs, and their footsteps indicated they were heading toward the library.
Driven by an irresistible urge to eavesdrop, I quickly ducked behind a large bookshelf.
To my surprise, there was already someone else hiding there.
Eleanor, holding two books, looked like she had just been browsing for something to read.
We stared at each other in awkward silence. At that exact moment, Seraphina and Richard walked in.
Peeking through the gap between the books, I watched them.
The two stood facing each other. The man was tall and handsome, the woman beautiful and petite. They looked like a picture-perfect couple.
Richard’s expression was calm, betraying no emotion.
Seraphina clutched her chest, looking as fragile as a flower trembling in the wind, and her voice broke into a theatrical, trembling sob:
“I know… if it weren’t for my illness, you would never have agreed to see me. You’ve hated me all these years, haven’t you, Richard?”
Richard said nothing.
Tears instantly spilled from her eyes. She quickly wiped them away with the back of her hand, her frail shoulders shaking. “But everything I did back then… I did it for you.”
Seraphina claimed that the reason she married so suddenly back then was because her husband promised to inject capital into the Sterling company if she did.
She had decided to sacrifice her own happiness and marriage to save the collapsing Sterling empire.
But she was deceived by that man.
After they got married, he refused to honor his promise and offered no help to the Sterling family. She was furious and wanted a divorce, but right at that moment, the news of Richard’s marriage broke.
Her heart died.
Divorce lost its meaning for her, and she couldn’t return to the Sterling family. She could only live in a numb daze with that man.
For the first few years, the man was somewhat patient with her.
But eventually, he showed his true colors. Not only did he constantly cheat, but he was physically abusive, frequently beating her black and blue.
Seraphina cried beautifully, a perfect portrait of a tragic heroine. “When I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer, I stood on the edge of the balcony and threatened to jump before he finally agreed to a divorce. My only thought then was that, before I die, I had to see you one last time… even if I had to crawl all the way back.”
I scoffed internally.
Give this woman an Oscar. Richard suppressed his anger and asked: “Why didn’t you tell me?!”
Her tear-washed eyes looked exceptionally bright. She frowned slightly, looking at him with a gaze full of gentle sorrow: “How could I tell you? You were already married. You had a wife, a child, your own family. You were living such a good life. How could I bear to ruin your happiness?”
“I’m just an irrelevant person. How could I compare to your wife and child?”
Richard averted his gaze, looking out the window. “You will always be a daughter of the Sterling family. You are my sister…”
Seraphina’s tears fell like rain, and she interrupted him, sounding utterly broken: “But I don’t want to be your sister anymore!”
“My biggest regret in this life was telling you I wanted to be siblings forever, and pushing you to get engaged to Eleanor… Richard, you were supposed to be mine. It was my own foolishness that pushed you into the arms of another woman.”
Richard was silent for a long time. “Seraphina, it’s in the past.
“Rest up for the next few days. The specialist I hired will be here soon.”
With that, he turned and started walking toward the door.
Seraphina rushed forward and hugged his waist from behind, pressing her face against his back, her voice full of grief: “But I can’t move on.
“Richard, can we really never go back to the way things were?”
Richard paused, gently pried her fingers open, and walked away without looking back.
Having watched this entire soap opera, I rubbed the goosebumps off my arms and glanced at Eleanor beside me.
My elegant, poised mother-in-law was staring blankly ahead, her eyes hollow.
Sigh. Love is a cruel game. The person who loves deeper always ends up suffering more.
I didn’t plan on being nosy and was about to leave.
But I had already made it to the door when I couldn’t help but turn back and ask Eleanor: “Mom, you can actually tolerate this?
“If it were me, I wouldn’t stand for a single second of this bullshit!”
Eleanor looked down at the floor, her voice barely a whisper: “She’s his sister. Even if I can’t tolerate it, what can I do?”
I cracked my knuckles. “She’s just an aging, manipulative homewrecker. Don’t worry, I’ll help you.”
Eleanor froze, looking at me in shock.
The time for slaughter had arrived.
I was going to teach Seraphina the true meaning of cruelty!
6
During the time Seraphina lived at the Sterling estate, I felt like I was back at my dad’s house.
That familiar atmosphere, thick with the scent of fake innocence and gunpowder.
Richard was incredibly protective of Seraphina.
Eleanor pretended everything was fine, but internally she was tortured, visibly wasting away day by day.
At the dinner table, Seraphina put down her fork after taking just two bites.
Eleanor asked with genuine concern: “Please eat a bit more, it’s not good for your health to eat so little.
“Is the food not to your liking? Tell me what you want, and I’ll have Martha prepare it.”
Seraphina immediately acted terrified, picking her fork back up in a panic. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Sister-in-law, please don’t be mad at me! I’ll eat, I’ll eat right now.”
She started frantically shoving food into her mouth, looking like a frightened victim, acting incredibly fragile and submissive.
Eleanor was startled and stood up to pour her a glass of water. “Slow down, don’t choke…”
Suddenly, Seraphina jerked her head up, bumping into Eleanor’s hand. With a sharp crash, the glass shattered on the floor.
Seraphina dropped to her knees, clutching Eleanor’s leg, crying hysterically.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! Sister-in-law, I didn’t mean it, please don’t blame me, don’t yell at me, please don’t kick me out! I’m sorry, I’ll clean it up right now!”
Eleanor was shaking with anger, feeling completely blindsided.
When did she ever say she was kicking her out?
What would Richard think if he heard this?
Sure enough, Richard frowned, looking down at Seraphina on the floor, opening his mouth to speak.
I beat him to the punch. I struck instantly.
I lunged forward, grabbed Seraphina firmly by the shoulders, and spoke with fiery, righteous indignation.
“Our ancestors fought and bled for our freedom and independence so that we could stand tall and proud! We live in a modern, democratic society, why are you dropping to your knees like a peasant?!
“To put it broadly, we are strong, independent Americans! We bow to no one but God! To put it specifically, the men of the Sterling family are like soaring eagles, and the women are like fierce lionesses!
“So stand up! Seraphina! You stand up right now!”
No older, successful CEO can resist a passionate, patriotic, motivational speech.
None of them!
Sure enough, Richard shot me a look of deep approval.
Seraphina was completely bewildered, staring at me in utter shock.
She had lost her footing entirely, having no idea what playbook I was using.
Carter let out a soft chuckle and chimed in at the perfect moment: “Auntie, please don’t mind her. Chloe has been studying day and night for her Bar Exam, she’s a bit overly enthusiastic right now.”
Hearing this, Richard nodded at me approvingly again.
The Sterlings take immense pride in their upstanding, prestigious legacy. Patriotism and dignity are practically baked into their DNA.
I pivoted smoothly: “Oh, I almost forgot. Auntie, you lived in Canada for over a decade. Have you been away for so long that you forgot your roots and the proud blood running in your veins?”
Seraphina’s face turned pale. Teary-eyed, she argued, “No, I haven’t. How could I ever forget?”
I shouted authoritatively: “Then hold back those tears! We Sterlings sweat and bleed, but we don’t weep! We don’t break!”
The blinding light of justice destroys all manipulative demons.
Seraphina didn’t dare make another peep.
She immediately sucked her tears back and dejectedly sat back in her chair.
Richard looked serious and turned to Seraphina. “You just got back, you might not be used to how things are here now. If you need anything, talk to Chloe. She’s a good kid.”
Seraphina was practically fuming, but she had to force a smile and nod in agreement.
🌟 Continue the story here
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When my mom was pregnant with my little brother, a prenatal checkup revealed he had XYY syndrome.
Everyone begged her to terminate the pregnancy.
My mom cried and flat-out refused. I asked her what “XYY” meant.
She said to me, “It means your brother is going to be the manliest of men. He’s going to protect his big sister.”
I half-understood it. Until he was seven years old, and he took a brick and smashed it into my mom’s head over and over again.
Then, I finally understood what kind of “man” he was.
1
I was six years old when my mom got pregnant.
A few months in, they paid a private clinic to find out the gender. When she found out it was a boy, my mom was ecstatic.
Even though my dad always said having his “little princess” was enough, having a son had always been my mom’s ultimate wish.
Until the amniocentesis results came back, and everything changed.
They said the unborn baby had an XYY karyotype.
Also known as “Super Male Syndrome.”
I eavesdropped outside the door. My dad was pleading with her to give it up: “Let it go, Sarah. We have Harper, and that’s enough! The doctors said these kids have a very high risk of severe antisocial and aggressive behavior. We can’t raise a kid like that.”
Tears streamed down my mom’s face. She shook her head, her hands protectively covering her belly. “No, I can’t do it. Look how big he is already. You want to end your own child’s life just because of something a doctor said?”
My dad frowned, at a loss for words.
My mom said firmly, “Didn’t we raise Harper to be a wonderful girl? I believe this baby will be fine too. We just need to guide him properly…”
My dad, speechless with anger, went out to the patio to smoke, leaving my mom crying with red eyes.
I walked over and asked, “Mom, what does ‘Super Male’ mean?”
She looked at me sadly, thought for a moment, and said, “It means your little brother is going to be the manliest of men. He’s going to protect his big sister.”
I hesitated. “Will you and Dad only love him and not me?”
She stroked my hair. “How could that happen? Mom loves you the most.”
I smiled.
A few months later, my brother Caleb was born.
Everyone who saw him praised how beautiful he was. Big eyes, fair skin—he looked like an angel from a greeting card.
Whenever someone praised him, my mom beamed with pride. She would say, how could such a cute baby ever be violent?
She was going to love him with everything she had.
Shielded by my mother’s overwhelming love, Caleb slowly grew up. He babbled, he cooed, and he began to express his emotions.
It was just that the way he expressed his emotions was very different from other kids.
If he didn’t like the carefully prepared baby food, he would just flip the bowl onto the floor.
If a toy car ran out of batteries and stopped moving, he would fly into a rage, stomping on it brutally until it was smashed to pieces. Only when it was utterly destroyed would he smile.
He had an extreme destructive urge. His toys never survived a second day. Once the toys were gone, he destroyed other things. It was as if obliterating objects brought him endless joy.
No matter how my dad tried to discipline him, it was useless. My mom practiced “positive reinforcement.”
“Good boy! Our baby is so strong!”
I felt wronged and complained to my mom: “Why do you ground me when I break something, but you never punish Caleb?”
My mom sighed. “Caleb is different. You can only guide him gently. Harper, you’re the older sister, you need to be understanding.”
I didn’t get it.
This was just blatant favoritism.
2
To cultivate a gentle temperament in Caleb, my mom bought us each a pet rabbit.
She smiled and said, “You have to treat the bunnies well, okay? They’re living creatures too.”
Caleb stroked the rabbit’s ears, looking like he absolutely adored it, and nodded.
But the next morning, when my mom went to the patio to change their lettuce, she let out a blood-curdling scream.
I rushed out. The rabbit Caleb was given had been sliced completely open and was dead. Its intestines were spilling out all over the cage.
Meanwhile, my rabbit was huddled in the corner of its cage, shivering violently, its ears pinned back in terror.
Caleb stood behind my mom, smiling as he reached his arms up for a hug. “Mommy, I want another bunny!”
I held my rabbit, a violent shudder running down my spine.
Ever since Caleb was born, all of my parents’ energy had been focused on him. Even my grandmother moved in specifically to help take care of him.
He became the center of the universe that our family revolved around.
I have to admit, most of the time he looked no different from any other little boy. He had a sweet smile, loved snacks, and loved cartoons.
But a boy who seemed that bright and cheerful could turn into a demon in the very next second.
When Grandma told him he couldn’t have more candy, he bit down on her arm with the ferocity of a wild jackal. No matter who pulled at him, he wouldn’t let go.
When I was watching cartoons, and Mom went to the balcony to get him, he casually picked up the heavy remote control and smashed it into my head. Blood dripped down my forehead, and he just flashed a look of pure delight.
When he finally reached daycare age, my parents spent a fortune to get him into an elite preschool that focused on child behavioral development.
But it wasn’t long before the teachers called my parents in.
The reason? An older kid had bullied him, making fun of him for being small.
Nobody knows where he found it, but during nap time, Caleb snuck into the older kids’ room while the teacher was in the restroom, used a lighter to set the kid’s bedsheets on fire, sprinted out, and locked the door behind him.
If the teacher hadn’t returned in time, the consequences would have been catastrophic!
The teachers were horrified. “Does your child watch violent movies? I’ve never seen a kid like this in my life! This is terrifying!”
Under pressure from the other parents, Caleb was expelled. My parents bowed, apologized endlessly, and paid a massive settlement to make it go away.
Caleb stood to the side, biting his fingernails as he watched my parents humiliate themselves, giggling and laughing.
The teacher asked him what was so funny.
Caleb said, “I wanted to watch you all burn!”
All the blood drained from my dad’s face. He slapped Caleb across the face in front of everyone. Caleb was knocked to the ground.
He wailed at the top of his lungs. The bystanders watched coldly. Only my mom threw herself on top of him to protect him.
“It’s Mommy’s fault! It’s all Mommy’s fault!”
3
My dad and my mom had a massive fight.
My dad roared from the bedroom: “We never should have kept him! He’s a monster!”
My mom pointed a finger at his nose, screaming hysterically: “Even if he’s a monster, he’s your flesh and blood! He’s already here! What’s the point of saying this now?!”
My dad tried to argue but couldn’t find the words. He left my mom crying alone in the room.
My mom exhausted herself getting Caleb into another preschool. But instead of just pulling little girls’ hair, he bullied the younger kids, shoving a toddler’s head into the toilet and forcing him to drink the water.
Seeing a teacher who was seven months pregnant, Caleb actually told the other kids he wanted to kick her hard in the stomach.
Later, he really did it. When the pregnant teacher turned to go to the restroom, he intentionally tripped her.
She lost her balance and fell forward. If someone hadn’t caught her in time, it would have been a disaster.
The teacher’s husband caused a massive scene, demanding emotional distress compensation and demanding to know how a child so young could be so purely evil.
The principal had no choice. She refunded our tuition and practically begged my mom: “Please take your child somewhere else. We can’t handle him. I’ve run this preschool for thirty years, and I’ve never seen a kid like this!”
My parents tried everything—bribery, begging—but nothing worked.
Finally, my mom gave up. She just had Grandma watch him at home until he was old enough for elementary school.
As the only grandson, Grandma spoiled him rotten. Whatever he wanted, she gave him.
Because of her age and bad knees, going up and down the stairs of our apartment building was incredibly painful for her. Yet, she would go to the grocery store every single day to buy whatever specific food Caleb craved, never complaining.
Who would have thought that one day, just as Grandma returned from buying groceries and reached the top of the stairs, Caleb would come charging out of the apartment, staring at his video game console. He didn’t even try to dodge her.
The grocery bags tumbled down the stairs, followed by the heavy thud of Grandma’s body rolling down the flight of steps.
Caleb didn’t even look at the grandmother who had just plummeted down the stairs. He just kept playing his game, his laughter echoing through the hallway.
I saw the whole thing with my own eyes.
Because of that fall, Grandma was paralyzed from the waist down.
My dad went crazy, slapping Caleb over and over. He looked like he wanted to murder him. My mom cried and clung to his legs, screaming, “He’s just a child!”
My dad roared, “He’s not a child! He’s a monster!”
He slumped into a chair, muttering to himself, “We should have aborted him. We should have aborted him.”
Caleb glared at him with pure hatred.
Only I walked up to my dad. I told him not to be sad, that Grandma would get better.
My dad pulled me into a tight hug, tears suddenly falling from his eyes.
When I got back from the hospital, I was in a great mood. I hummed a song while feeding my rabbit lettuce.
My poor rabbit was still traumatized by the brutal death of its companion; it shivered whenever anyone came near.
I shoved the lettuce against its mouth. “Eat.”
The rabbit wouldn’t open its mouth.
“Why won’t you eat?”
Finally, I opened the cage, pried its mouth open, and watched the lettuce go down its throat. Only then did I leave, satisfied.
4
After Grandma was paralyzed, there was another person in the house who needed constant care.
To prevent any more “accidents,” my mom quit her job to stay home and look after Caleb and Grandma.
No one knows why Caleb pushed Grandma, but according to him, he “thought it was fun.”
He had always been like this. Seeing others suffer was fun to him. His joy was built entirely on the pain of others.
After being betrayed by her precious grandson, Grandma’s personality completely changed. She stopped talking to Caleb and finally realized my worth.
Whenever there was something good to eat, she would call me over and save it for me.
She didn’t give Caleb a single ounce of warmth.
Caleb caught us talking and sharing snacks several times. He would stare at us with a dark, brooding look:
“What are you guys doing?”
We stayed silent and didn’t answer. He would turn around and go watch cartoons, and I would breathe a sigh of relief.
After that, Caleb became incredibly reckless, completely ignoring the feelings of anyone else in the house.
When told he couldn’t light fireworks outside, he decided to light them inside the living room.
To prevent him from burning the house down, my mom confiscated all his toys and lighters.
Until one day shortly after. Grandma was taking a nap, and my mom and I went to the supermarket.
My mom warned Caleb: “Do not go near the kitchen. Stay in the living room and wait for us, you hear me?”
Caleb gave a sweet, innocent smile and agreed.
An hour later, when we returned, we smelled smoke before we even opened the door.
Panicking, my mom threw the door open. The house was filled with smoke.
She screamed Caleb’s name like a madwoman. Caleb was standing in the living room, perfectly fine and unharmed.
But when I went to look for Grandma, I realized the smoke was pouring out of her bedroom.
Grandma was still lying in bed. I covered my nose and yelled, “Grandma, Grandma, wake up!”
She didn’t respond.
I yelled a few more times. My mom rushed in and shook her: “Mom! Mom! What’s wrong? Mom!”
Grandma remained lifeless. As the smoke cleared slightly, I could see her lips had turned a dark, bruised purple.
My mom with trembling fingers reached out to check her breathing. Two seconds later, she let out a blood-curdling scream and collapsed onto the floor.
Grandma was dead.
5
Soon, police cars, ambulances, and fire trucks completely surrounded our building.
The paramedics pulled a white sheet over Grandma’s body. A firefighter looked at the shredded firecracker paper covering the living room floor and let out a long sigh.
The firefighter told the police: “Preliminary assessment is the child was setting off M-80s inside the house. The elderly woman was asleep, suffered a severe shock, and had a sudden, fatal heart attack.”
A police officer frowned at my mom. “Leaving a young child home alone is bad enough, but letting him play with explosives? Do you have zero common sense as a parent?”
My mom still hadn’t recovered from the shock. She stuttered, “I… I didn’t know…”
The police looked at her in disbelief. Meanwhile, Caleb sat on the couch sucking on a lollipop, acting as if nothing had happened, watching the commotion and giggling.
Someone glanced at Caleb and muttered, “Look at that kid. His grandmother just died in a freak accident and he’s sitting there laughing.”
But they didn’t know. Caleb literally had no heart.
When Grandma’s body was wheeled past me, my nose stung.
Even though she was only kind to me at the very end, those were still memories I cherished.
Right then, my dad rushed home, just in time to see Grandma being loaded into the ambulance.
He leaned against the doorframe, his legs gave out, and he slowly slid down to the floor.
My mom protectively stepped in front of Caleb. She said weakly, “You… you need to calm down. Mom was already in her 70s, her heart was never good to begin with.”
My dad had already gotten the news on his way home. His eyes were locked onto Caleb, overflowing with bottomless hatred.
Suddenly, he let out a guttural roar, shoved my mom to the floor, grabbed his heavy leather briefcase, and swung it directly at Caleb’s head.
The metal clasp of the briefcase struck Caleb, knocking him to the floor. Blood instantly poured from his nose, staining the hardwood.
My mom screamed and clung to my dad’s leg. “It was just an accident! It was an accident!”
My dad yanked my mom up from the floor and roared, “Get the hell out of my sight!”
Seeing things escalating, the police quickly pulled my dad away.
“The tragedy already happened, please calm down! You don’t discipline your kid normally, and now that someone is dead, you resort to beating him?!”
A firefighter quickly chimed in, “Exactly. If this had started a structural fire, could you take responsibility for the casualties in the whole building?”
Taking advantage of the chaos, Caleb sprinted back to his room. When he came back out, he was holding the remaining string of firecrackers. He lit them right in front of all of us and threw them directly at my dad.
“I want to play with fireworks inside!”
The popping and banging of the firecrackers echoed through the room again, filling the air with smoke. Everyone in the room fell dead silent, staring at Caleb in horror.
He was a monster.
6
Grandma’s death was ultimately ruled an accidental death.
After sorting out her funeral, the house was left in ruins.
From that day on, my dad never spoke a single word to Caleb. He treated him like he was invisible, and he barely even spoke to my mom.
After Grandma was cremated, my dad held her urn and said coldly to my mom, “Let’s get a divorce.”
This time, there was no explosive argument between them.
Caleb silently appeared behind me.
He didn’t speak. He just stared at me with dead eyes.
Early the next morning, my dad had his bags packed. The house was quiet; my mom was leaning against the headboard, crying with red eyes.
He left all the money and the house to my mom, and voluntarily gave up custody of both of us.
At the moment he was leaving, I cried and asked him, “Dad, are you really leaving?”
He smiled bitterly. “Harper, be a good girl. Dad knows you are the most sensible one. Take good care of Mom. If anything happens, make sure to call Dad.”
I sobbed, “If I’m so sensible, then please don’t leave!”
He sighed heavily. “Harper, don’t blame yourself. It’s all Dad’s fault. I never should have gotten married and had kids. I’m not capable of living a normal life, and I’ve caused so much suffering for everyone else.”
With that, he grabbed his suitcase and left without ever looking back.
From that moment on, it was just the three of us left in the house.
Because I promised my dad, I worked even harder.
In the middle school placement exams, I scored exceptionally well and was admitted to the best middle school in the city.
Caleb, however, because of the arson incident, made every school in the district refuse to take him.
Seeing that no school would accept him, my mom came up with a plan: she legally changed his name, and then we moved to a completely different school district.
After a lot of hassle, she finally managed to get him enrolled just before September rolled around.
My mom aged drastically over those few months. The divorce hit her hard, but she still refused to give up on Caleb.
She always hoped her love could somehow change him.
But Caleb used his actions to prove to her that some kids are just born bad seeds, and they can never, ever be changed.
7
After starting middle school, I consistently maintained the number one rank in my grade.
Caleb also transitioned somewhat smoothly into elementary school.
Although he was frequently sent to the principal’s office for pulling girls’ hair, fighting, and stabbing classmates with compass needles, thankfully, no major disasters occurred.
Until his classmates all started getting allowances. Driven by a child’s vanity, he suddenly discovered the perks of having money.
One day, the $5,000 collected for a class field trip went missing from the classroom.
The school took it extremely seriously and pulled the security footage immediately.
The camera clearly captured Caleb sneaking back into the classroom during recess and taking the cash envelope from the teacher’s desk.
The school called my mom in.
Five thousand dollars is no small amount. The school administration and the principal had a very serious sit-down with her.
Caleb was publicly disciplined at school, and my mom had to apologize and pay restitution in the parent group chat.
As for the five thousand dollars, Caleb had already blown through all of it at the arcade.
I remember it clearly. That was the day I attended the district’s academic awards ceremony. I waited until the very end, but I never saw my mom in the audience.
I walked home alone, holding my certificate of excellence.
It wasn’t until late at night that my mom dragged her exhausted body home, bringing Caleb with her.
I sat in the dark living room, clutching my straight-A report card and the award.
“Mom.”
My mom saw me and froze. “Why are you sitting in the dark? Did you eat?”
I didn’t answer. She walked toward me, confused, until she saw the certificate in my hand.
She stared at it for a long time, then murmured, “Mom forgot…”
Caleb stood in the doorway and said coldly, “I’m hungry.”
My mom ignored him. Instead, she pulled me into a tight hug, choking back sobs as she said, “Harper, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you’ve had to suffer so much these past few years.”
“It’s okay, Mom. It just means I need to do better.”
At that moment, Caleb raised his voice again, “I said I’m hungry!”
As my mom cried, her breathing started to quicken. She involuntarily doubled over, her face turning bright red.
Her old condition was flaring up.
I quickly said, “Mom, I’ll go get your medicine.”
She clutched her chest, gasping for air, and slumped onto the sofa.
Then, the unthinkable happened.
Caleb suddenly picked up a heavy ceramic plate from the table and hurled it directly at my mom’s head.
It happened so fast, no one could react.
My mom screamed. Her brow bone split open instantly, and blood poured down her face.
Caleb was still screaming, “I SAID I’M HUNGRY!”
My mom wiped the blood from her face, rushed over, and slapped Caleb twice across the face.
She screamed and cried, “Do I owe you?! Do I owe you something?! What more do you want from me?! I never should have given birth to you!”
Caleb said nothing. He just glared at her with venomous hatred.
If looks were knives, my mom would have been carved into a thousand pieces.
8
Over the years, raising Caleb left my mom covered in physical and emotional scars.
As he grew older, he became more and more like a ticking time bomb. You never knew when he would explode.
Stumbling along, he had changed schools twice by the time he reached sixth grade.
I was already in high school, usually living in the dorms.
One day, my homeroom teacher suddenly called me out of class. She said Caleb’s school had called; they couldn’t reach my mom.
To make ends meet, my mom was working two night-shift jobs. She slept during the day, so she likely slept through the calls.
I got permission to leave and rushed to his school. When I got there, I found out Caleb had gotten into an argument with the class president. Since Caleb couldn’t beat him in a fight, he took a fountain pen and stabbed it straight through the boy’s hand, pinning it to the desk.
The paramedics had to use an electric saw to cut the pen to free him.
The class president had two severed tendons. When they finally removed the pen at the hospital, there were chunks of flesh stuck inside the barrel.
That boy had just won first place in a national youth piano competition!
Even if his hand slowly recovered, its dexterity would be permanently compromised.
His music career was dead, killed by my brother.
Caleb was expelled again.
This time, the victim’s parents were both lawyers. They were relentless, refused any mediation, and immediately filed criminal charges.
My mom knelt on their front porch, begging them to spare Caleb this one time. They just called the police to have her removed.
The boy’s mother looked my mom dead in the eye and said, “I’ve heard about your family. I pity you. But some kids are just born demons. They don’t deserve mercy! I’ve seen kids like yours—zero empathy, highly dangerous.”
“None of them ever end up well!”
Because Caleb wasn’t even fourteen, the court could only mandate juvenile detention and massive restitution. My mom had to drain every last penny the family had left to pay them off.
After that incident, my mom aged another ten years overnight.
9
My mom was in a parent support group she joined when she was pregnant, called “XYY Mothers.”
As the name suggests, the people inside were all mothers raising kids with Super Male Syndrome.
My mom found a lot of comfort in that group back then. Many people said XYY kids don’t always develop antisocial personalities. They just have a higher probability. How could anyone give up their own flesh and blood over a percentage?
My mom believed it completely.
When the babies were born, they all thought they were innocent and cute. They believed that with enough love, they could guide them right. They all believed their child would be the exception.
But as the kids grew older, they became more and more anxious. Covered in bruises and bite marks, they would ask the “veteran moms” in the group what to do.
The ironic part was, the veterans almost never spoke.
They couldn’t even control their own kids; how could they advise anyone else?
My mom finally ran out of options. She took an indefinite leave of absence from work and stayed by Caleb’s side 24/7 to watch him.
Ever since she was pregnant with him, it was like she was under a spell.
I don’t believe it was purely maternal love. She never had that kind of obsession with me.
Or maybe it was because I was too well-behaved and obedient. I never made her worry, so everything good I did was just taken for granted.
During my three crucial years of high school, my mom became Caleb’s full-time warden. She barely checked on me.
I gritted my teeth and survived the hardest period of my life alone.
In the end, I scored a near-perfect on my SATs and wrapped up high school beautifully.
I excitedly called my mom. Before I could even share the good news, I heard her rambling on the phone: “Your brother has been so good lately. He hasn’t caused any trouble, hasn’t gone to the arcade, just stays in his room every day. I can finally relax a little.”
I silently hung up the phone.
By the time Caleb was thirteen, he was already over 5’7″.
Because he did absolutely nothing but sit in his room eating junk food and playing games, he weighed nearly 200 pounds, and his personality became even more volatile and erratic.
Since he had been quiet for a while and hadn’t caused any disasters, I suggested to my mom that we take him swimming to lose some weight.
At the indoor pool, Caleb was visibly overstimulated. He looked around wildly, staring at the girls.
When I came out in my swimsuit, Caleb stared at me with an inexplicable look.
I avoided his gaze.
He smiled, a dark, confusing grin.
Looking into his eyes, my stomach suddenly churned with disgust.
Watching his back, it felt like I was watching an amnesiac demon slowly awakening.
Caleb dove into the water. Because it was the weekend, the pool was packed. Within minutes, my mom and I lost sight of him.
About half an hour later, Caleb climbed out of the deep end.
He walked up to my mom and pointed at the snack bar.
My mom knew he was hungry, so she bought a corn dog for him and one for me.
Just then, a scream erupted from the deep end: “Help! A kid is drowning!”
People rushed over, pulling a little girl out of the water.
Her face was chalk-white, and her lips had turned a terrifying shade of blue-purple.
Her legs were twisted and cramped together.
The lifeguard pushed the crowd back and immediately started CPR.
The little girl’s mother was already crying hysterically on the sidelines.
The bystanders silently began praying for the girl.
My mom and I exchanged a look, then both of us instinctively turned our eyes to Caleb.
My mom’s hands started shaking, her breathing growing ragged. I quickly pulled her asthma inhaler from my bag and handed it to her.
Meanwhile, Caleb was chewing his corn dog, looking down at the dying girl on the tiles, and started laughing.
The girl coughed up a lungful of water and slowly regained consciousness.
Her mother hugged her tightly, crying, “Sweetie, who did this to you? Do you remember?”
The little girl looked around the crowd. When her eyes landed on Caleb, she burst into terrified sobs.
The stunned crowd began to whisper and point.
The mother, tears streaming down her face, screamed, “What did you do?!”
Caleb said coldly, “I didn’t do it!”
My mom’s face flushed as she forced herself to stand in front of the angry woman. “Yes! My son was right next to me eating a corn dog! Your daughter must be mistaken!”
Caleb remained silent, taking another bite of his food.
A few other kids quickly ran over and pointed at Caleb: “It was him! We saw him! He dragged her into the deep end and threw her floatie away!”
The girl’s mother finally lost control. She grabbed a cleaning pole nearby and swung it at Caleb.
My mom instinctively stepped in front of him, taking the blow for him.
Caleb sat behind her, completely unfazed.
He muttered darkly, “I just wanted to play with her. Why wouldn’t she let me play?”
His voice was quiet. Maybe I was the only one who heard it. But his eyes were locked dead onto the little girl on the ground.
The sound of police sirens approached. My mom and I followed Caleb as he was taken to the precinct.
🌟 Continue the story here
👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app
🔍 search for “434849”, and watch the full series ✨!
#MotoNovel
The moment the plane stalled and entered a nosedive, my boyfriend—the captain—instinctively called out to his co-pilot, his “first love”:
“If we really end up buried in the same piece of earth, I guess this counts as growing old together, doesn’t it?”
Later, their textbook emergency landing became a legendary tale in the aviation world, while I, the air traffic controller who guided them from the tower, voluntarily resigned.
A long time later, we crossed paths again. It was a flight he was commanding. Over the cabin PA, he announced that he had been waiting for someone to come home.
I stood at the end of the jet bridge, waiting for him to disembark. When he finally appeared, I smiled and asked:
“Captain Carter, haven’t you and Ms. Davis picked out a plot together yet? Are you short on cash for the urns?”
1
I met Ryan Carter in college.
I had just graduated and was assigned to the busiest air traffic control tower in the country, Chicago O’Hare. During the evening rush hour, a massive thunderstorm hit. Two planes, circling in the holding pattern, started arguing over the radio about who had priority to land.
“Alright, that’s enough! Yelling until your voices are hoarse isn’t going to help. You’re two grown men flying commercial airliners, are you really arguing like children up there? You’re in a hurry? We’re in a bigger hurry down here in the tower!”
Ryan’s cool, deep voice cut through the radio waves, carrying a powerful, calming energy that instantly settled my nerves.
He was a prodigy pilot for Horizon Air, promoted to Captain in just his fourth year, yet he only flew the most grueling, exhausting short-haul domestic routes.
During every shift we shared, I’d hear him over the radio: “Good morning, O’Hare,” “Good afternoon,” “Good evening.”
Later, it evolved into: “Good evening. I’ll wait for you, let’s go home together.”
I was the one who confessed my feelings first.
We lived together for five years. He was the perfect boyfriend—tall, handsome, gentle, and incredibly disciplined. Even when flying red-eye routes, surrounded by female colleagues offering him snacks and coffee, he would only drink the terrible, bitter ginger tea I made for him.
“I’m spoken for. I have someone waiting for me at home. I’ll have to pass on the treats.”
Ryan’s phone was always open to me. We shared our schedules, our locations, and our social circles.
I thought there were no secrets between us. But on an ordinary morning, during a lull in air traffic, my trainee suddenly leaned over with some gossip:
“Hey, did you know that the gorgeous co-pilot flying with your boyfriend today is Chloe Davis? I heard she’s a legend. She turned down offers from Delta and United just to fly for Horizon. She’s so badass, I love her.”
I froze for a second, asking him to repeat the co-pilot’s name.
Chloe.
It wasn’t an uncommon name, but it immediately triggered a memory. It was the name that had been sitting in the background banner of Ryan’s Facebook profile for five years.
Ryan rarely posted, but I had once asked him about the tiny text in the bottom right corner of his banner image: “Wait, Chloe.”
He just smiled, brushed it off, and said he just thought the picture looked cool.
I didn’t want to overthink it, but could it really just be a coincidence?
“Flight HZ3400? HZ3400, if you copy, please respond. Can anyone on this frequency try to hail HZ3400?”
My trainee’s frantic voice snapped me back to reality. My eyes shot to the radar screen. HZ3400, which should have been cruising at 35,000 feet and had just entered O’Hare airspace, had suddenly lost contact with the ground and was rapidly losing altitude.
And that was the flight Ryan was commanding.
2
“HZ3400, if you copy, please respond. Your altitude is dropping rapidly. HZ3400, can you hear me?”
My trainee’s voice was shaking uncontrollably. He looked at me, his eyes pleading for help.
In those crucial ten seconds, my mind went completely blank. Relying purely on muscle memory, I took over his headset and microphone. I repeated the call sign over and over, operating like a precision machine, flawlessly executing the emergency protocols drilled into me from the manual.
The altitude kept dropping. The moment ground fire and EMS crews were dispatched to the runway, the image of Ryan hugging me before he left for work flashed in my mind:
“If your cold gets worse, just call out sick. Sleep in, and I’ll make you some soup when I get home tonight.”
If he and the hundreds of living, breathing people on that plane disappeared right in front of my eyes… I knew I would have a complete mental breakdown right there in the tower.
Static. Then, HZ3400’s radio crackled to life.
I immediately initiated contact, transmitting crucial information and requesting the status of the aircraft and passengers. But despite my repeated questions, the only thing that came through the radio was Ryan’s deep, emotional murmur:
“Chloe, if we really end up buried in the same piece of earth, I guess this counts as growing old together, doesn’t it?”
The signal was terrible, the audio was weak, but to me, it was deafening.
Responsibility. Duty. In that moment, it seemed they had abandoned it all.
He was willing to intertwine his fate with hers, to follow her into death. So what did that make me?
And what about the hundreds of lives on board? Were they just giving up on them?
3
At 5:30 AM, HZ3400 executed a miraculous, textbook emergency landing at O’Hare, pushing the aircraft to its absolute limits. The flight crew’s god-tier maneuvers instantly went viral, becoming the explosive headline of the day.
But what immediately followed was an investigation and a search for accountability.
The O’Hare tower was downgraded to a regional control center. This should have had absolutely nothing to do with us, but because the incident occurred within my trainee’s frequency block, and because I subsequently took over, we were mandated to participate in the investigation to provide a transparent account to the public.
Following the accident, both Ryan and I were too overwhelmed to contact each other. Our first meeting was a full 24 hours later, when the entire flight crew and tower staff were convened to reconstruct the events.
That’s when I finally met Chloe Davis. She had a sharp bob, pale skin, and striking features. Her sharp eyebrows gave her a commanding presence, yet there was a subtle, feminine softness to her.
When asked if the tower had transmitted the correct information, Chloe decisively shook her head:
“I didn’t hear it. Or rather, I didn’t have time to listen to that garbage.”
Chloe sat up straight, speaking bluntly without hesitation: “I’m a straight shooter, so I’ll just say it. The female voice from the tower was disorganized, her technical proficiency was severely lacking, and she sounded like she was trying to use a cutesy ‘baby voice’ to flirt. In an emergency situation, it severely impacted my judgment.”
“What do you mean you didn’t hear it? Why are you slandering my mentor? She was speaking completely normally! That wasn’t a ‘baby voice’!”
I put a hand on my trainee’s shoulder to calm him down, my gaze instinctively shifting to Ryan.
He was sitting rigidly upright. From the moment he walked in, his eyes had been blankly fixed on the table, and he actively avoided making eye contact with me several times.
I was certain he heard my calls over the radio, and he knew I had heard his confession to Chloe. That’s why he was avoiding me.
But the next second, he spoke softly:
“I apologize. I was entirely focused on the emergency landing. I don’t remember anything else.”
The truth was, the tower had the complete audio recording to back me up. But the flight crew’s conflicting statements and Chloe’s baseless accusations would inevitably prolong the investigation and generate negative press.
From the moment Ryan gave that response, I knew our relationship was over.
4
[Mentor, I’m so scared. The tower looks like they’re going to hold someone accountable. I just graduated, I don’t want to lose my job… My parents are sick and need money, what am I going to do…]
I hadn’t gone home that day. I spent two days passed out in an airport hotel. When I finally woke up, the only message on my phone was from my trainee.
My chat with Ryan was completely empty.
Opening social media, the news was absolutely saturated with interviews featuring Ryan and Chloe.
They stood shoulder-to-shoulder in the sunlight, accepting endless praise and gratitude. The narrative was that they were college alumni who had faced death together, sharing an extraordinary, unspoken bond.
Meanwhile, the hashtag “#OHareTowerIncompetence” was trending in the top fifteen. Clicking on it revealed a flood of hateful comments:
[Did Chloe mention someone using a ‘baby voice’? The ATC tower is a serious, high-stress environment. Who the hell was she trying to flirt with? Is she there to work or to pick up men?]
[Let me put on my tinfoil hat for a second. Could the incident be related to the ‘baby voice’? Was she trying to compete with Chloe for male attention, so she deliberately withheld information?]
[Do the people above me have any common sense? The actual audio hasn’t been released yet. How can you just blindly accuse someone?]
[Are the male captain and Chloe a thing? Chloe is so badass and straightforward, but the way the captain looks at her is definitely not purely professional.]
…
Because of Chloe’s “accidental” slip of the tongue, even before the investigation concluded, public pressure was forcing the FAA to penalize the “baby voice” controller and issue a public apology.
And we all knew that cockpit voice recordings are rarely released to the public. Even if internal reviews cleared me, they had to give the public a scapegoat.
Chloe was clearly targeting me.
[What are you afraid of? The online hate is directed at me. It has nothing to do with you. Just focus on your work.]
I replied to my trainee, then proceeded to delete Ryan’s number and block him on everything. I submitted my resignation, turned off my phone, and booked a flight out of the country for a vacation.
She really went out of her way.
If Chloe wanted a toxic, garbage man that badly, I was more than happy to wrap him up and hand him over.
Five days later, a text from an unknown number popped up on my screen:
[Give me a little time. Chloe is… different from other people. But our relationship isn’t what you think it is. I just need time to figure out my own feelings.]
[I don’t have time.]
[What about the apartment? And all your stuff? Are you just abandoning it?]
[The lease isn’t up yet, do whatever you want with it. Throw my stuff away. I don’t need the money.]
[And what about me? Are you abandoning me too?]
I hesitated for a moment before sending my final reply:
[Before you ask other people that, take a hard look in the mirror and ask yourself if you even deserve me.]
5
It was a funny coincidence. On my very first day abroad, I ran into someone I knew: Liam Sterling.
Four or five professional cameras were set up on the beach. He was leaning casually against the trunk of a weeping willow, posing for a shoot. Dressed in flowing white linen, his slightly wavy hair caught the ocean breeze. He looked like the moon over a mountain or fresh snow on a sunny day—his smile radiating a youthful, effortless charisma.
Curious, I stopped to watch for a moment. Liam spotted me instantly and started waving frantically, calling me over like an oversized, over-excited Golden Retriever.
We walked to a quiet corner to chat. After exchanging some brief pleasantries, he cut straight to the chase:
“I couldn’t reach you on your phone! I need a huge favor, Maya!” (Maya translates to Tang Xian)
The Sterling and Miller (Tang) families were old family friends. We were both the youngest children in our respective families, enjoying the most freedom within our wealthy households. Whether he chose to be an A-list actor or I chose to be a modestly paid air traffic controller, no one intervened.
Since Liam’s acting career blew up, we rarely kept in touch. But right now, he looked desperate enough to hug my leg and beg:
“I just want to focus on acting, but my agency keeps forcing me into fake showmance PR stunts! Please pretend to be my civilian girlfriend and help me out! Out of everyone I know, you’re the only one I trust!”
“A celebrity wanting to publicly date?”
“I don’t rely on rabid fangirls for my career. Can’t a normal 27-year-old guy have a 28-year-old civilian girlfriend?”
I was still hesitating when my phone rang. It was the director of the ATC tower, sounding frantic:
“Maya! Did I approve your resignation? I haven’t retired yet, since when is it your turn to resign and take the fall for this?!”
“Get your ass back here and clock in! When the investigation results come out, we’re going to slap those bastards right in the face!”
So I could go back?
Alright then. If there was a turning point, I was going to make sure they paid the price.
Nobody gets off easy!
With that in mind, I smiled and playfully tipped Liam’s chin up:
“I’ll help you, and you’ll help me.”
6
Aviation accident investigations take a long time, but the HZ3400 crew’s incredible emergency landing was an undeniable fact, and they received a public commendation.
Horizon Air announced that the two captains preferred to keep a low profile and declined further media coverage, which surprisingly earned them another wave of public goodwill.
Correspondingly, Maya Miller from the O’Hare Tower was issued one formal demerit.
The Tower Director received a severe demerit and a formal reprimand.
The specific reasons weren’t made public, but everyone internally knew it was done purely to placate the media.
On my first day back at work after the scandal, I had barely finished my evening shift when I was dragged out to a coffee shop for a get-together.
The flight crews that frequently flew through O’Hare had a private group chat. We were all pretty close, and everyone was concerned about how I was holding up.
As I approached the semi-private booth, a loud, hearty laugh reached my ears. Chloe was there.
Her blunt, “open” personality made her very popular in these circles. She easily became “one of the guys,” and she was currently recounting the story of the emergency landing.
When I appeared, the atmosphere went dead silent for a second. Chloe, holding an iced Americano, generously pulled me into a seat, telling me not to be shy:
“Since we’re all here today, let me formally apologize to Maya.”
Chloe spoke before I could, a playful smirk dancing on her lips:
“I haven’t been back in the States for long, and my communication skills aren’t great. I’m a bit too blunt. I just felt that Ms. Miller’s voice was incredibly sweet. I had no idea using the wrong words in an interview would cause such a massive headache for her. Please forgive me!”
The two female flight attendants at the table remained silent, but the group of male pilots clearly ate up Chloe’s act. They eagerly jumped in to smooth things over, saying it was all water under the bridge.
They hadn’t heard the cockpit voice recording. Of course they thought it was fine.
“Captain Davis is so young and accomplished. How could I hold a grudge? But no matter how blunt your personality is, when you’re flying into O’Hare, you still have to follow ATC instructions. We have a long road ahead of us.”
Chloe froze for a moment, then replied with thinly veiled sarcasm:
“I was just making a little joke with Ms. Miller. Why so serious? Ms. Miller seems like she has quite a temper, huh? Come on, guys, teach me how to handle her so I can land safely! I’m so scared she’s going to direct me straight into Lake Michigan, haha!”
However, when she finished, the male pilots didn’t laugh. The atmosphere instantly turned icy.
After a brief silence, Captain Davis from TransGlobal Airlines spoke up, his tone serious:
“Chloe, some jokes shouldn’t be made. Maya’s competence is undeniable. Even with a 102-degree fever, she can flawlessly guide planes in during the evening rush. You don’t know her, so don’t make careless comments.”
Chloe immediately took a sip of her coffee to hide her embarrassment. I casually remarked:
“Captain Davis is quite confident. Badmouthing me right in front of my friends? I guess that’s just your ‘blunt personality,’ haha.”
The group chuckled coldly in agreement. Chloe bit her lower lip in humiliation, her knuckles turning white around her coffee cup.
Several flight crews had to leave for their shifts. As they departed, no one even glanced in her direction.
The next crew to land was Horizon Air. Ryan was slowly walking over, dragging his flight bag. Chloe’s eyes lit up instantly:
“Ryan, over here! Wow, hurry up and translate for me! My English isn’t great, and I think I accidentally offended someone!”
7
Ryan didn’t hesitate: “Chloe hasn’t been back in the country long. If she misspoke, don’t take it to heart. She didn’t mean any harm.”
Most of the pilots who had been chatting earlier had already left. Chloe boldly leaned against Ryan’s shoulder, spouting nonsense: “Exactly! I don’t even know what I said to upset Ms. Miller. I didn’t mean any harm!”
Ryan’s body stiffened as his eyes found me sitting in the corner. For a moment, he looked completely panicked.
A flight attendant named Lily spoke up: “Chloe, do you think we’re deaf? Is that really what you said earlier?”
Chloe didn’t care. She even shot me a provocative look.
It was Ryan’s subconscious trust and protectiveness that gave her the confidence to show off.
She acted like a victor returning home after five years, easily reclaiming the man’s heart.
I lowered my eyes, grabbed Lily’s hand, and smiled: “Since the main characters are all here, why don’t we ask them to tell us the story of what happened that day?”
Ryan hadn’t expected me to bring it up. He instinctively frowned.
“I was losing my mind in the tower that day. I kept calling HZ3400, asking if they could hear me, asking for their status. And then, guess how Captain Carter responded?”
In a flash, everyone’s eyes locked onto Ryan.
His hesitation made Chloe suddenly panic. She instinctively gripped her coffee cup tighter.
“What did you say, Captain Carter? Tell us about your heroic deeds.”
The air was silent for a long time. Uncharacteristically, Ryan took three large gulps of his iced Americano before speaking in a devastatingly hoarse voice:
“I reported the aircraft’s status… and then focused entirely on managing the emergency. Nothing else.”
If emotions had a sound, Chloe’s internal breakdown in that moment would have been deafening.
She could no longer maintain her fake smile. The corners of her eyes turned a tearful, humiliated shade of red.
Remember this: a cowardly, indecisive, toxic man will hurt the next woman exactly the same way he hurt you.
And the debt you two owe me? We’re far from settled.
🌟 Continue the story here
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When she was little, she accidentally bumped her arm and told her grandmother that I had pinched her, causing her grandmother to throw a massive fit at me.
When she got older, she constantly skipped class, telling her homeroom teacher that our home environment was too suffocating and that she had depression.
Later, she started dating a local thug.
I followed her to the rooftop where they were secretly meeting. During an argument with him, she was pushed off the building.
I died on the spot trying to save her. But my daughter’s very first reaction was to pull out her phone, record my broken body, and scream for the camera: “Mom, why did you jump?!”
When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to her senior year of high school, exactly when she was threatening suicide to elope with that thug.
This time, I efficiently packed her bags and set them in front of her: “Go ahead, honey. Mom fully supports your freedom to love.”
1
“If you don’t agree to let us be together, I swear I’ll slit my own throat right here and make you clean up my corpse!”
The moment I opened my eyes, I saw my daughter holding a kitchen knife to her neck, screaming at me like a maniac.
But I knew she had absolutely no intention of killing herself. She was just doing this to force my hand, to make me yield to her increasingly outrageous demands.
In my past life, this terrified me so much that my soul practically left my body. I was a hair’s breadth away from dropping to my knees and begging her not to do something stupid.
In the end, with tears in my eyes, I agreed to their relationship. To keep her from running away, I even promised to give her a $3,000 monthly allowance.
My husband and I only made about $5,000 a month combined. To scrape together that $3,000, I practically lived at the office. I worked overtime every single night until I was so exhausted my vision blurred.
And she took our blood, sweat, and tears to fund that thug’s lifestyle, bragging smugly to him:
“That old bitch definitely has money hoarded away. I just have to keep pushing her, and she’ll spit it all out.”
Thinking of all this, I clenched my fists tightly, turned around, and walked out of the room.
“You old bitch! Even if you call Dad, it won’t change anything!”
Thinking she had won again, my daughter slammed the knife down on the table with a loud CLANG. After smashing a few teacups to vent her remaining anger, she followed me into my bedroom.
“Even if you drop to your knees and beg me, I won’t—”
The rest of her sentence died in her throat as she stepped fully into the room.
The next second, her voice shot up an entire octave: “What the hell are you doing?”
Meeting her shocked stare, I zipped up her suitcase with practiced efficiency and rolled it over to her.
“Go ahead, honey. Mom fully supports your freedom to love.”
Of course you two should be together.
After all, your “good days” won’t truly begin until after you get pregnant.
2
My daughter never expected me to react this way. Her red-rimmed eyes widened in sheer disbelief.
Seeing that she wasn’t moving, I gave the suitcase another push.
“If you don’t leave now, it’s going to get dark. I’ll mail the rest of your stuff to you later.”
“You old…” She paused, her meager brain struggling to process the situation. When it finally clicked, she let out a cold scoff. “Hah. To stop me from killing myself, you’re actually willing to agree to me and Tyler?”
She waved her hand dismissively, putting on a show of profound generosity.
“Forget it. I understand you’re getting old and can’t bear to be without me. I don’t have to leave. However, from now on, you are not allowed to interfere in my life. And you need to deposit $3,000 into my account every month. How I spend it is none of your business.”
In that moment, from the bottom of my heart, I felt truly pathetic.
From the moment she was born, my husband and I had pampered her. We held her in our mouths, afraid she’d melt; we held her in our hands, afraid she’d break.
But to our utter shock, she grew up to be a compulsive liar, constantly making up excuses to demand money.
Every time I dropped her off at my mom’s house, my mom would notice cash missing from her wallet afterward.
Back then, my husband advocated for a severe punishment so she would learn her lesson.
But I believed it was because we hadn’t given her enough of a sense of security. I believed girls should be raised with abundance so they wouldn’t be easily tempted.
Over the years, I did everything in my power to give her the best. Whatever other kids had, I made sure she had too.
And in the end? I gave my life for her, and her very first reaction was to film a video to create false evidence against me, and then use the tragedy to livestream and make money.
“You’re wrong.”
I sighed, shook my head, and patted her shoulder.
“Mom is getting old. I can’t control you anymore, and honestly, I don’t want to. Starting today, whether you go to school or not is up to you. Who you date is up to you. You can leave this house whenever you want.”
“But $3,000 is simply too much. Mom can’t afford it. You should go find someone else to be your mother.”
“I knew you were just saying this to spite me! Just you wait, I’m not coming home tonight!”
My daughter screamed, slammed the door, and stormed out.
She still thought I was just bluffing.
3
Not long after she left, I headed out too.
Having been trapped in the role of a mother for too long, I had spent years eating my daughter’s leftovers or the foods she disliked.
Tonight, for the first time in forever, I treated myself to a premium steak and a glass of red wine. High-quality beef really is fantastic; no wonder she always demanded to eat it.
The service at upscale restaurants is exactly as good as they say. Being taken care of feels completely different than taking care of someone else.
Fully satisfied, I even went to see a movie, buying myself popcorn and ice cream.
I had almost forgotten—years ago, I was a young girl too. I was also a cherished daughter held in my parents’ palms.
When I returned home, I happened to see my daughter standing downstairs, talking to a group of neighbors.
From a distance, I could only catch fragments: “My dad’s out of town on a business trip, and my mom is home alone, so naturally…”
“If she doesn’t care about me, fine. I’ve been treated like this my whole life anyway. If I starve to death, whatever.”
“Now she’s gone out again, who knows with who…”
The neighbors were fanning themselves and whispering, shaking their heads judgmentally.
It suddenly dawned on me why our neighbors had been giving me such dirty looks over the years.
It was probably because my daughter never tired of slandering me behind my back.
I had consulted a child psychologist before, learning that some children use lying and performative behavior in early childhood to gain adult attention.
But I never expected that my daughter’s compulsive lying and unbridled malice would only escalate as she grew older.
She spotted me, let out a loud scoff, and walked away without looking back.
I immediately spoke up to clarify:
“My daughter just loves to make things up. Everything she says is a lie. I just went out to have dinner by myself.”
But no one responded. I turned to ask the neighbors, trying to smooth things over:
“Ladies, out enjoying the cool air? Have you all eaten?”
But they just gave me a few dismissive hums in response.
I knew Rome wasn’t built in a day. The damage was done, and trying to explain myself now was useless. I could only let the truth slowly reveal itself over time.
I didn’t say anything else and went upstairs. When I walked into the apartment, I found it completely trashed.
Anything that could be smashed was shattered. The drawers were all pulled open and ransacked. It looked like the place had been robbed.
My daughter’s messy, hateful handwriting was sprawled across my bedsheets in black marker:
[You old bitch, so you won’t give me money, right? I’m staying with my boyfriend tonight! You’re going to regret this!]
The life she was willingly destroying was hers, not mine. What did I have to regret?
The louder she barked now, the harder reality was going to slap her in the face later.
I let out a cold laugh, stripped the ruined sheets, put on fresh ones, and went to sleep.
4
The next day, as soon as I got home, I saw my daughter sitting in the living room with my former best friend, Evelyn.
Evelyn was my husband’s junior in college. She used to have a massive crush on him, but after she was rejected, she pivoted and became my “best friend.”
She had been in one serious relationship before, but the guy cheated on her and beat her. She had remained single ever since.
Ever since my daughter was born, Evelyn was constantly at our house, buying her endless snacks, dolls, and limited-edition gaming consoles.
When my daughter was young, if I ever disciplined her, she would immediately call Evelyn. Evelyn would come running over instantly to defend her.
As my daughter got older and started talking back to me, she would always say:
“You’re so annoying, always nagging me non-stop. Being your daughter is the worst.”
“I don’t know how Dad could be so blind to choose you. You’re old and mean. If only Aunt Evelyn were my mom. She’s beautiful, generous, and she’s not cheap like you.”
Those words hurt me deeply, but she didn’t care. She genuinely wanted Evelyn to be her mother.
Right now, my daughter was leaning tearfully into Evelyn’s embrace, while Evelyn held her hand, comforting her non-stop.
From my angle, they looked much more like a mother and daughter than I ever did with her.
Hearing me come in, my daughter didn’t even lift her head, loudly exaggerating her accusations:
“My mom literally locked me out yesterday. I had nowhere to go all night. My boyfriend was the only one who took me in.”
“She refuses to give me food and says she’s cutting off my allowance forever. If she’s so poor, she never should have had a kid!”
“I’m just bravely pursuing true love, what did I do wrong?!”
Evelyn hugged her tighter by the shoulders:
“You did nothing wrong. Your mother is too cruel. It’s the 21st century! Children should have the freedom to love whoever they want. She’s overstepping her bounds.”
“Wuwuwu, Aunt Evelyn is the best. You treat me way better than my own biological mother.”
Evelyn even suggested that on my daughter’s 18th birthday, she would formally adopt her as her goddaughter. My daughter agreed with immense joy.
Listening to all of this, I just wanted to laugh.
Besides the parents who gave you life and raised you, does anyone in this world truly treat a stranger well for no reason?
I ignored the commentary and walked in with a smile:
“Honey, Mom knows that no matter what I say, you won’t believe me. So, I decided to prove it with actions.”
I paused, then spoke slowly:
“When Mom went out yesterday, it was entirely for you. I already spoke with Tyler’s parents and arranged your engagement. I’m not asking for a single cent in a dowry. As soon as you two hit the legal age, you can get married.”
“Your 18th birthday is coming up. Mom is going to throw a massive coming-of-age party for you. We’ll invite Tyler, and let everyone witness your happiness!”
My daughter’s eyes widened, her face a picture of sheer shock and absolute delight.
She was so excited she couldn’t speak.
But what I didn’t expect was that Evelyn’s wrist would suddenly jerk, her face turning an incredibly ugly shade of pale.
5
Evelyn knew my daughter’s temperament well, and she knew me well enough to realize that I was being completely serious.
Meeting my scrutinizing gaze, she opened her mouth to say something, but ultimately couldn’t force out a single word.
“Mom, this is the right thing to do. Now this is the Mom I know. I had no idea what was wrong with you before.”
My daughter raised an eyebrow, then pointed at Evelyn and said:
“I want to officially acknowledge Aunt Evelyn as my godmother. We should hold the ceremony during my party too.”
My daughter always spoke to me in that commanding, entitled tone, expecting everything to go exactly her way.
But she didn’t know that there is a phrase in this world: death by flattery.
Her belief that she was about to have a picture-perfect 18th birthday would be the beginning of her utter ruin.
I smiled and agreed to everything.
In a great mood, my daughter happily asked: “What are you going to do about my wedding gifts, then?”
I patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry, I promise you’ll be satisfied.”
According to the timeline of my past life, by this point, my daughter had already slept with Tyler.
Not long from now, on her 18th birthday, she would be eating dinner and suddenly start dry heaving. We’d go to the hospital, and she’d find out she was pregnant.
I had felt like the sky was falling back then, begging her to get an abortion and break up with Tyler.
But she said: “This is the crystallization of my love with Tyler. I am absolutely keeping it.”
Because of this, she dropped out of high school, completely cut ties with my husband and me, and happily moved into Tyler’s house.
In my past life, because she was pregnant, Tyler only reluctantly agreed to take responsibility under intense pressure from his parents.
Wasn’t that baby the best possible wedding gift for my daughter?
6
That afternoon, coming down from my office building, I unexpectedly ran into my husband, who had been out of town on a business trip.
He was still rolling his suitcase, clearly having just rushed back.
“Why are you here?” I walked up to him.
He didn’t look happy. He handed me a warm bag of roasted chestnuts and spoke with a dark expression:
“Fiona, why did you agree to let her get engaged to Tyler? Weren’t you always against it? Don’t you know what kind of person Tyler is?”
I didn’t answer his question. Instead, I asked:
“How did you find out about this?”
My daughter definitely wouldn’t have told him, afraid he would object.
If my husband knew, someone must have specifically sought him out to tell him.
Right on cue, as soon as I spoke, Evelyn stepped out from the side.
She sighed dramatically.
“Fiona, I’m not trying to lecture you, but what kind of biological mother pushes her own child into a fire pit?”
“It’s fine if kids just want to date and have fun, but for marriage, how could you let her settle for someone like that?”
“Mark, you need to talk to her. What will people think when they find out? Isn’t she ruining the child’s entire life?!”
Evelyn reached out to grab my husband’s arm, but he took a quick step back to avoid her.
He came over, took my purse for me, and spoke with his back to Evelyn:
“This is our family’s private business. Thank you for telling me, but my wife and I will discuss the rest when we get home.”
Evelyn, who had been passionately lecturing me, was completely caught off guard by my husband throwing cold water on her.
Her outstretched hand hung stiffly in the air, and her eyes slowly grew dark.
My husband had already put his arm around my shoulder, just like he used to, and said softly to me:
“I know our daughter has been driving you crazy, and you made a bad decision in a moment of anger. I’ve been working really hard lately, and my boss is about to give me a promotion and a raise. I know you’re a loving mother. From now on, you don’t have to worry about her allowance anymore.”
Using the same coaxing tone he used when we were first dating, he said:
“Be good. Let’s go home to talk. If anyone bullied you, tell me, and I’ll help you teach them a lesson!”
All the grievances I had suffered recently surged into my heart because of his words.
For a second, my eyes stung, and I wanted nothing more than to lean on his shoulder and cry.
He only knew our daughter was rebellious and unruly; he had no idea I had been genuinely killed by her in a past life.
If I told him the truth now, he probably wouldn’t believe me, but I would definitely find an opportunity to make him see the reality.
Seeing my husband leading me away, Evelyn panicked and tried to step in front of us again.
I couldn’t help but look at her sarcastically:
“Evelyn, you’re always so invested in my daughter’s affairs. If people didn’t know better, they’d think you were her biological mother. Since that’s the case, why don’t you go ahead and arrange her wedding gifts too.”
I don’t know which of my words triggered her, but Evelyn’s eyes suddenly darted around in panic.
She muttered, “What are you talking about? I watched Mia grow up; of course my heart aches for her.”
I didn’t even bother replying, just let my husband lead me away.
…
When we got back that day, I only said one sentence to my husband:
“You travel a lot, so you don’t know what I’ve had to live through at home. If you dare try to convince me otherwise or stop me, then our marriage is over.”
My husband was terrified.
Seeing how absolutely resolute I was, he finally just sighed:
“I married you. You are the most important person in my life. As for the kid, since she’s willing, then let her do whatever she wants.”
🌟 Continue the story here
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During winter break, while I was helping my son with his homework, he suddenly cursed at me: “I have a new mom now! I don’t need you to teach me! Get lost!”
I looked at him in silence for a long time, then asked if he really didn’t want me to be his mom anymore.
He viciously said yes.
“I told you before, I would only give you three chances. This is the third time you’ve said you don’t want me. Remember this: you are the one who didn’t want me.”
I got up and walked away. My son excitedly pulled out his phone and started playing Fortnite.
He was so happy.
1
Walking out of my son’s room, I was calmer than I thought I’d be. After all, this was the third time my heart had been reduced to ashes.
My son booted up Fortnite, his face twisting in manic obsession as he gamed away.
I closed his door, shutting away his silhouette. I went back to my own bedroom, sat at the vanity, and stared at my pale, puffy, and bloated face.
For thirteen years, I raised my son from a crying infant into a bouncing teenager. Only I knew the grueling hardships I endured along the way.
But why did he turn out like this?
I reflected on myself time and time again, but time and time again, I realized it wasn’t my fault. So whose fault was it?
His dad’s toxic chauvinism, and his grandmother’s manipulative spoiling.
“What kind of man does chores? Men are meant for big things.” “Men grind outside, women stay home and be good maids.” “What’s the big deal about washing underwear and socks together? It won’t kill you.” “You’re so annoying, why are you complaining about such little things?”…
These were the things his dad, Mark, said on a daily basis. And that was exactly how he educated our son.
Under the weight of thirteen years of misery, I broke down constantly. Every time I broke down, I would scream and cry like a deranged madwoman.
In my son’s eyes, I was a lunatic, and his dad was a gentleman.
“Look at your mother. Does she have any class at all?” That’s how Mark evaluated me, and my son would cling to his dad’s arm, looking at me with pure disgust.
He had no idea that in a toxic household, the one screaming and causing a scene is usually the one in the most agonizing pain.
In my misery, I completely lost all authority over my son. He resented me, rejected me, and even cursed at me.
As for his grandmother, Martha, she claimed she came to “help us out,” but she really just came for a free ride. She barely lifted a finger, yet she was incredibly cunning and always knew how to win my son’s favor.
If I scolded my son, she would scold me.
If I forced my son to drink milk, she would sneakily buy him Coke.
If a teacher punished my son, she would march to the school and physically attack the teacher.
…
Oh, she was so smart. She ruined my son’s growth and development, but she won his absolute devotion.
And I, trapped in thirteen years of agony, had morphed into a shrieking housewife.
2
The woman in the mirror was already covered in tears. I didn’t even know when I started crying.
From the next room, my son screamed: “Defend the damn tower, you idiot!”
He was having the time of his life because I wasn’t nagging him anymore—even though tonight was the last day of winter break, and dozens of pages in his homework packet were still blank.
Taking a deep breath, I patted my cheeks, burying my emotions as much as humanly possible.
Giving up on someone you love is a bitter pill to swallow, but what follows is the exhilarating thrill of liberation.
Once you flip that mental switch, nothing else matters.
I stood up and took a hard look at my bloated body in the mirror. These were the scars left by thirteen years of torment.
Thirteen years ago, I was a slim, beautiful, and ambitious college graduate. With my outstanding capabilities, I became the General Manager of a medical aesthetics spa chain. The owner, Brenda, treated me like a sister.
But I threw away a brilliant career for “love.” I married Mark, became a full-time stay-at-home mom, and dedicated my life to serving my husband and raising my son.
Breakdown after breakdown, healing after healing. Hurt by my son over and over, only to forgive him over and over. Until tonight. I finally gave up on him. I gave up my own flesh and blood.
Because this was the third time he told me he didn’t want me to be his mom.
Three months ago, I gave him a warning. At the time, Mark had already checked out of our marriage and was keeping a mistress on the side. For the sake of my son, I turned a blind eye.
But that woman, Tiffany, started coming around the house more frequently. She would even buy groceries and drop them off just to butter up my mother-in-law.
She got close to my son, too. He absolutely adored her.
One time, after I scolded my son, he flat-out told me he didn’t want me to be his mom anymore. He wanted to swap me out.
I knew he wanted that woman to be his new mom, and I knew Mark would kick me to the curb sooner or later.
I didn’t care about Mark, but I cared about my son.
So I told him: “I know you really like that lady, but I am your mother. If you ever say you don’t want me to be your mom again, I will tolerate it twice. But the third time, I won’t want you either.”
My son didn’t take it to heart. Tonight, he blurted it out: I have a new mom now! I don’t need you to teach me! Get lost!
3
Exhaling another deep breath, I checked the time. It was 9:00 PM.
Martha was still at her Zumba class at the community center. Mark was out “networking.” I knew his “networking” was taking place in his mistress’s bed.
I opened my phone and found a contact named Brenda.
Brenda was the owner of the MedSpa chain. After I quit, she asked me to come back multiple times, but I always declined.
To this day, we only texted during the holidays or on birthdays.
Our last chat was on my birthday. She sent me a generous gift card. It was the only gift I received, because no one in my own family remembered my birthday.
After debating it for a long time, I sent Brenda a text, asking if she was asleep.
She immediately FaceTimed me.
I hesitated, but accepted the call.
“Wow, Mel actually reached out… um… you…” Brenda’s beautifully preserved face froze on the screen, her words catching in her throat.
I knew my current appearance had completely thrown her off.
I had gained at least sixty pounds, and the youthful collagen in my face was long gone.
For some reason, seeing Brenda looking so beautiful while she stared at me in shock made my tears flow like a broken dam.
“Mel? Is that you? Oh honey, don’t cry.” Brenda panicked, caring about me just as deeply as she did all those years ago.
I sobbed uncontrollably. So many emotions were tangled up inside me. I was filled with intense guilt; I never should have left Brenda.
4
After a long while, I managed to hold back my tears and apologized to Brenda.
Brenda asked me what happened.
I didn’t want to say it, but I needed to vent so badly. I told her my life was terrible, my marriage was a disaster, and I wanted to make some money so I could gain my independence.
I really needed money. I knew Mark would divorce me eventually, and I had to be prepared.
“Your husband is a piece of trash, just as I thought… and your mother-in-law is a wicked bitch. I guessed as much years ago when you first told me… sigh, I’m not going to lecture you.”
Brenda sighed in frustration, wishing I had been stronger, but then she immediately started making a plan for me.
“You can’t be a General Manager looking like this. We’re in medical aesthetics, and the company has expanded more than tenfold since you left.
“Here’s the plan. I just opened a new branch in your area. You’ll go in as the Assistant Manager to help out. Your base salary will be $6,000 a month. In the meantime, you need to lose weight and get fit. You need your beauty back. Once you get your looks back, you’ll come to headquarters and be a General Manager. I’ll pay you $15,000+ a month plus commission!”
I was ecstatic. Honestly, I didn’t even dare to hope for an Assistant Manager role; I just wanted to do administrative work. Pulling in $3,000 or $4,000 a month would have been a dream. I didn’t expect Brenda to hand me an Assistant Manager position and promise me a GM role in the future!
I had the skills and the ambition. I wasn’t going to turn this down.
“Brenda, give me a year. I will absolutely come see you at headquarters!”
“Silly girl, come whenever you’re ready. Don’t wait a year, and don’t put too much pressure on yourself.” Brenda understood what I meant. This year was for me to transform myself.
But she was afraid I’d rush it. After all, a year isn’t that long.
5
Hanging up the video call, a genuine smile finally returned to my face. I immediately started studying the MedSpa materials Brenda had sent me.
Thirteen years had passed, and the medical aesthetics industry had changed drastically. I couldn’t afford to slack off; I had to understand everything thoroughly to be a good Assistant Manager.
I studied until 10:00 PM, filling five pages with notes. Then, Martha came home.
She opened the door loudly and slammed it shut even louder. The BANG made my eardrums throb.
She did this every single day. No matter how many times I asked her to be quiet, nothing changed.
“Grandma, look at my stats! 23 kills, MVP!” Cody grabbed his phone and ran to greet her.
Martha didn’t understand the game, but she praised him endlessly: “My grandson is so amazing! Are you hungry? Want a late-night snack? I brought you some fried chicken.”
“Hungry, hungry, hungry! Grandma, feed it to me, I’m going to keep racking up kills!” Cody plopped down on the sofa, and Martha tore off pieces of chicken to hand-feed him.
I walked out to get a glass of water. Watching this scene, my heart felt completely dead. Not a single ripple.
Martha shot me a glare. “Getting ready to yell again, huh? Cody studied all day. Playing a few games and eating some chicken is perfectly normal.”
“Hmph!” Cody didn’t look at me, but he twisted his body, turning his back to me to express his annoyance.
“Eat slowly. I’m busy.” I poured my water, went back to my room, and continued studying my materials.
“What’s wrong with your mom? She’s usually acting like a crazy banshee.” Martha sounded a bit confused.
Cody scoffed. “She’s scared. I threatened to replace her with a new mom. Now she doesn’t even dare to fart.”
A thirteen-year-old middle schooler saying things like this.
I put in my earplugs and focused on my studies.
I wanted to be a great Assistant Manager, then a Branch Manager, then a General Manager.
I was going to return to my peak. I was going to make $15,000 a month. When that day came, Mark’s $8,000 a month wouldn’t mean shit.
The one initiating the divorce would be me, not him. He wasn’t worthy.
6
That night, I was incredibly hyped and full of passion.
The exhaustion of pouring your heart into a career is entirely different from the soul-crushing exhaustion of being a housewife.
I no longer had to suffer in agony because Mark didn’t come home at night, and I didn’t have to be furious because my son was staying up late playing video games.
My eyes were solely focused on my work. That was something that truly belonged to me!
When the sun came up, I had only slept for five hours, but I was bursting with energy.
Normally, this was the time I would wake up to prepare breakfast and clothes for my son, and pack his backpack for whatever camp he had.
But today, I got up, washed my face, and walked straight out the door to get breakfast, not even glancing at my son’s room.
Pancakes, bacon, eggs, and a large caramel macchiato. I ordered a bit of everything and tasted it all, just like I did when I was in my twenties.
I love food, but after marrying Mark, cooking three meals a day enveloped me in the greasy smell of the kitchen like a lingering nightmare.
I was never going to cook a single meal for this family again!
After eating and drinking my fill, I took a walk. By 8:00 AM, I was heading to the Elysian MedSpa branch to meet the manager.
I specifically sent Brenda a text: “I’m heading out!”
I figured she wasn’t awake yet, but she immediately FaceTimed me.
I answered, and she was beaming: “Mel, you’re full of drive! Looks like you really want to change. You got this!”
I nodded solemnly. Brenda then asked me: “Are you going to get a divorce first? I can hook you up with a shark of a lawyer to make sure you get a bigger cut of the assets.”
I shook my head. “No rush. I’ve been stuck in the mud for thirteen years; I don’t mind staying for one more. When I finally climb out of this mud, I’m going to shove Mark and his entire family face-first into it!”
I wasn’t satisfied. My heart was full of resentment.
If I just divorced him now, no matter how much money I took, I wouldn’t feel good.
I wanted them to feel miserable!
They were the ones who deserved to suffer!
“Looks like you have a plan. Good, that’s the Mel I know. The old Melody is back!”
7
Brenda didn’t say much more. She was incredibly busy, considering her company had expanded massively.
However, she transferred $1,000 to my account, calling it a “start-work bonus,” saying everyone gets one.
I was touched. Who gives a $1,000 start-work bonus?
But I accepted it anyway. If I didn’t take this money, combining everything I had to my name wouldn’t even add up to fifty bucks.
At 9:00 AM, the Elysian MedSpa opened. I had been waiting outside. I walked in and introduced myself to the branch manager.
The manager was a middle-aged woman, very stylish and chic.
She clearly wasn’t impressed by my appearance, but since I was personally assigned by Brenda, she didn’t dare say anything. She was just very cold.
But after I worked for one day, the manager was beaming at me.
“Mel, you are incredible! You closed nine premium memberships in one afternoon! That’s amazing!
“Your etiquette and customer service skills are totally professional. You definitely worked in this industry before, didn’t you?
“The three clients you targeted were indeed high-spenders. They bought memberships after just one treatment!”
The manager’s praise gave me a long-lost thrill.
This was a thrill I had lost thirteen years ago.
I am back!
8
By the time I got off work, it was already 9:30 PM.
I could have left earlier, but I didn’t want to. I preferred immersing myself in work.
I checked my phone. Sure enough, it was blowing up.
Three missed calls from Martha, seven from Mark.
Right then, he called again.
I answered, and Mark started screaming immediately: “Mel, where the hell did you go? No dinner, no laundry, you didn’t pick up the kid! I come home and the place is a disaster, damn it!”
“Didn’t you say doing chores was incredibly easy? I just skipped one day. How could it be a disaster?” I mocked him.
Mark flared up: “What the f*ck do you mean? Get your ass back here right now!”
“Your son doesn’t want me to be his mom anymore. He has a new mom now. I suggest you let the new mom be your maid.”
I mercilessly exposed his affair. He had a new woman.
In the past, I tolerated it for the sake of my son. But now, I didn’t even want my son anymore. What was I tolerating?
It’s your turn to tolerate me, Mark!
Mark clearly stiffened for a second, then continued with an icy tone: “Since you know, I won’t hide it. Men have a lot of social obligations outside; who doesn’t do this?
“Besides, I work so hard to provide for you, and you’re still not satisfied? What’s wrong with me having a little fun on the side?”
He was so unbelievably shameless.
His shamelessness was built entirely on my perceived “uselessness.”
Yes, a full-time stay-at-home mom who only knows how to do laundry, cook, and act as a maid is considered useless. She is looked down upon by her husband.
That’s why Mark dared to openly say he was “having fun on the side.” He wasn’t afraid of me getting angry at all.
“Got it. You work so hard. Let your mom serve you well. Your son only likes your mom anyway. I’m not coming back.”
I hung up the phone.
Just because I’m not in a rush to divorce doesn’t mean I’ll keep being a doormat. I’ve let everything go. If I say I don’t want my son, I don’t want him! If I say I’m not coming home, I’m not coming home!
9
Ignoring Mark, I went to grab dinner, then took an Uber to a boutique women’s fitness and sculpting studio.
I signed up for a month-long fat-loss boot camp. Five sessions a week, $100 per session.
Dropping $2,000 all at once was a massive expense in my eyes.
In the past, I wouldn’t have even dared to dream of this. All my spending had to be for the family. A measly $300 personal monthly allowance had to cover all the little things around the house.
It was truly pathetic.
After signing up for the classes, I booked a room at a four-star hotel for the night, letting the plush mattress support my exhausted body.
It had been so long since I felt this relaxed.
The next day, I rented an apartment and started my new life.
My daily routine became a straight line between the MedSpa and the fitness studio. I didn’t even cast a glance back at my old home.
Martha started panicking.
Because I refused to go back, she had to do all the chores.
“Mel, are you out of your mind? Why aren’t you coming home? Are you out fooling around with some wild man?!” Martha yelled at me over the phone.
Cody’s voice echoed in the background: “It’s better if she doesn’t come back! I get annoyed just looking at her. She can go die!”
My grip tightened on the phone, then relaxed. I was as calm as still water: “Cody only likes you, so you take care of him.”
I hung up, turned on Do Not Disturb, and poured all my passion into my work and my workouts.
10
In just two short months, the Elysian MedSpa branch I worked at became the highest-grossing clinic in the region.
Brenda was amazed. When we FaceTimed, she couldn’t stop praising me.
“Mel, you are a force of nature! That new branch is dominating the market, crushing even the established clinics. You’re too powerful!”
“Of course I’m powerful. After all, I was an all-star General Manager thirteen years ago.” I wasn’t modest at all.
Brenda laughed loudly, then looked closely at my face. She noted that I had lost a lot of weight and looked much healthier.
It was true. I had lost over 25 pounds. Even though I was still around 155 pounds, my entire demeanor and energy had completely changed.
Looking at myself on the screen, I let out a soft breath. For a moment, I was overwhelmed with emotion, unable to find the words.
“Okay, okay, don’t cry now. You’ve taken the first successful step. Keep pushing! I can’t wait to see you drop down to 120 pounds. When you hit 120, you’re going to be drop-dead gorgeous.”
Brenda encouraged me again, and promoted me to Branch Manager with a base salary of $8,000. The original manager was transferred to an older branch.
To celebrate my promotion, I treated Zoey, the owner of the fitness studio, to dinner.
Over the past two months, Zoey and I had become close. She was very young, only twenty-six, and single.
Zoey was bubbly and cute. She was also a minor influencer with about 50,000 followers on TikTok.
While eating, she chattered away: “Mel, I’ve noticed a massive change in you. It’s not just that you lost weight; your whole vibe has changed. How should I put it…
“Two months ago, when you came to me for classes, I honestly didn’t really want to take you on. Your image was so poor, and you looked broke. Our members are usually pretty wealthy…”
Her honesty made me laugh. I nodded. “Yeah, I was incredibly broke back then. I was taking care of an entire family of freeloaders on a $300 monthly allowance.”
“No way, was it really that bad?” Zoey’s eyes went wide. She was shocked, but she didn’t pry into my family drama.
Instead, she started plotting something else: “Mel, you really need money, right? Do you want to be an influencer with me? I’ve been wanting to find a client to use for content—specifically, a weight-loss transformation series.
“You’re at 155 pounds right now. If you keep this up every day, when you hit 120, you’ll look beautiful and fierce. You’ll definitely attract a huge following!” Zoey looked at me with expectation.
I thought about it and asked: “How much is the pay?”
Zoey gave me a playful eye roll: “We’ll split the video ad revenue 50/50. And… your fitness classes will be free from now on. How about that?”
“Deal!”
I took on an extra side gig: being Zoey’s content subject.
She really liked my aura. She said that even though I was a downtrodden housewife, I had the bone structure of a classic beauty. When I slimmed down, I’d be explosive. Who knows, I might even become a massive influencer.
And I have to admit, Zoey’s project drew in a ton of followers. Many netizens wanted to see how far I could transform, and they wanted to learn some weight-loss tips along the way.
Another month later, I lost another 15 pounds. I was down to 140 pounds.
When I looked in the mirror, I would occasionally catch glimpses of my younger self.
It was as if the clock from thirteen years ago was running backward, and I was walking step-by-step toward the woman I was thirteen years ago.
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I chased Jaxon for ten years, cleaning up after his endless parade of girlfriends, until this time.
I had a conflict with a girl in the restroom, and Jaxon rushed in with his entourage of friends.
After examining the minor injuries on Avery’s body, Jaxon stood up, his face ice-cold:
“Stella, apologize to her.”
1
I almost couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
The women’s restroom.
It was packed with Jaxon and his frat-bro friends. The girls outside were too scared to come in, and the crowd stared at me with eyes full of mockery or secondhand embarrassment.
I shook the water off my hands and explained calmly, “I didn’t push her.”
There were no cameras in the restroom, and this girl was clearly banking on that.
Avery offered a bitter, fragile smile, gently tugging at Jaxon’s sleeve. “It really was me being careless.”
“Stella, I’ll say it one more time—apologize!”
Jaxon roared, grabbing my arm.
In my twenty-five years of life, my dignity had never been trampled on like this.
One of his friends stepped forward, looking uncomfortable. “Jaxon, come on, this is Stella…”
“What makes you think she’s any different?” Jaxon raised his voice, glaring dead at me. “She’s just a dog!”
The blood in my veins seemed to freeze instantly.
Memories wrapped in raw emotion flooded my mind. The insecurities and terrors that kept me awake on countless late nights finally materialized, slapping me hard across the face.
A few girls whispered among themselves; some even suppressed a laugh.
Jaxon’s friends, who had always disliked me, were secretly gloating.
I stared at the face in front of me, a tidal wave of bitter sorrow overturning in my chest.
When someone tried to intervene and break up the fight, Jaxon refused to let me go. I lowered my eyes, clenched my left fist, and slapped him across the face as hard as I could!
2
Jaxon froze.
My eyes were red as I looked straight through him.
Leaning in close, I whispered, “I’m a dog? Then you’re a son of a b*tch.”
3
Jaxon and I grew up together as childhood friends. Our family backgrounds used to be evenly matched.
When we were ten, his family fell from grace. His father was sentenced to prison, and from then on, he lived with my family.
Because I liked him, I was always chasing after him, catering to his every need. You could say that the crushing inferiority he felt from the world’s cruelty back then was slowly healed by my daily, unwavering devotion.
Gradually, his silence shifted from submissive to aloof.
Years later, his father was released from prison. With the help of my dad and several old connections, he made a triumphant return to Wall Street, reclaiming his empire.
And Jaxon? He became the untouchable, high-and-mighty golden boy.
Jaxon’s mother had poor health and had been living in an expensive sanatorium for years. The only way he and his mother survived those dark years was entirely through us, definitely not from his father’s frozen assets.
So when I told him he was a son of a b*tch raised by me, I wasn’t bullying him. I was stating a fact.
Jaxon’s eyes went wide, his breathing turning ragged.
“Stella, that’s going too far, don’t you think?” Off to the side, Carter Evans couldn’t help but frown. “Blackmailing Jaxon all these years using the favor your parents did for him as a kid—isn’t it time to drop it? Besides, how clean are you, really?”
A sharp jolt shot through my brain. I shot a lethal glare at Carter.
Jaxon’s face changed in a rare display of panic. He opened his mouth to speak.
I stared dead at Carter. “What do you mean by that?”
Carter smirked, an arrogant, careless look on his face. He exchanged a glance with the guys around him, and suddenly, they all looked at me with cold, disdainful mockery.
They… what did they know?
4
I stared fixedly at the man in front of me.
It made sense now. He knew exactly what I cared about, exactly where it hurt the most, which was why he deliberately twisted the knife there.
Avery stepped forward. “Jaxon, let it go.”
Jaxon stood completely still.
Carter, seeing that this drama was about to be brushed over, yelled out like he was enjoying a show: “Jaxon, you aren’t gonna say it? Fine, I’ll say it! This girl, Stella, started off using childhood favors to chain you down. Then, she gets assaulted, you play the hero and save her, and she uses that to leech off you forever! Have you ever seen someone so shameless?!”
Boom. If earlier I only suspected Jaxon didn’t love me, in this moment, I was absolutely certain of it. He hated me.
The scene from the past flashed before my eyes. I clenched my fists, taking a deep breath, but my entire body felt like it was about to collapse.
Assaulted? Is that how he understood it? Is that how he told the story to everyone else?
The restroom fell into chaotic whispers.
A crack appeared in Jaxon’s expression. He tried to grab me, but I dodged.
Bending over, I could barely catch my breath.
In a spot where Jaxon couldn’t see, Avery shot me a triumphant, gloating look. It seemed she knew about it too.
I licked my dry lips and picked up my purse. As I brushed past Jaxon, my eyes were bloodshot. I couldn’t help it. Being bitten by the wolf pup I raised with my own hands actually hurt.
I gave him one last look, offering a faint smile as I pulled out my phone, blocked and deleted every single contact method I had for him, and dropped the phone back into my bag.
“I won’t apologize. You deserve each other. May we never meet again.”
5
Jaxon and I shared the exact same social circle, overlapping from childhood to the present day.
When we were kids, we went to the same elite prep school. In high school, we shared the same AP Physics and Calculus classes.
Even setting aside our parents’ business ties, the shared history of growing up together meant our lives were deeply intertwined.
So even though I deleted him, I knew avoiding him completely and blocking out all news of him would be impossible.
I went home.
I slept for two days.
When I finally checked my phone, I saw comforting messages from my best friend, Gia, mocking texts from Jaxon’s friends, and passive-aggressive posts from trust-fund kids in my feed.
And, of course, Avery’s latest Instagram post: “I knew you would protect me.”
The photo showed Jaxon’s large hand tightly gripping her delicate, pale fingers. A classic aesthetic of strength and vulnerability.
This time, I felt absolutely nothing.
I drove to work, only to run straight into Avery in the lobby.
Dressed in sharp business attire but sporting a fragile, doe-eyed look, she was brought to my office by the HR manager for orientation.
I froze, flipping through her file. “Who authorized bringing her into the company?”
The HR manager looked incredibly awkward. “Mr. Brooks arranged for her to join. He asked that you mentor her and familiarize her with our operations. She’s… assigned to you.”
After Richard Brooks was released from prison, my father naturally went into business with him. This company was a joint venture between our families.
It was meant for our mutual benefit, and also to lay the groundwork for my future marriage to Jaxon.
Now, Jaxon held the title of CEO, and I was the Vice President.
He had blatantly planted his new girlfriend right under my nose.
Avery lowered her head. “My family is going through a tough time, and my last job didn’t work out. I had to bother Jaxon for a favor. Ms. Wright, where should I start?”
The girl’s eyes shimmered with feigned innocence, but the undisguised thrill of victory leaked through.
I dropped the file on my desk.
I originally thought that after vowing never to see Jaxon again, I’d just resign, hire a professional to manage my shares, and take a long vacation.
I didn’t expect him to march right up and deliver another slap to my face.
He really didn’t want me to have a moment of peace, did he?
I walked right up to Avery.
Her bold demeanor shrank slightly, as if she was terrified I was going to slap her.
But she was too disgusting. I didn’t even have the desire to touch her.
I gave a short laugh. “You can start by packing your things and getting the hell out.”
“This company changes ownership next month… Consider yourself fired.”
With that, I walked around her and headed out. It took Avery a few seconds to process what happened. She frowned and yelled, “Jaxon won’t allow this!”
I turned my head and replied, “Him? He’s just a dog my family used to feed. Who does he think he is?”
6
There were a lot of people around, and I was sure many heard it and would pass it along to Jaxon.
Good.
Once I stepped into the elevator, all the energy drained from my body.
Ten years of feelings. Even if I poured my heart into an abyss without a single echo, we didn’t have to draw blades against each other.
But remembering what Jaxon said to me that day, even as I logically told myself to remain dignified and composed, the sour grief still surged violently upward, making me tremble.
“Ahem.”
The elevator stopped on the third underground parking level. Accompanied by a cough from behind, I realized in shock that there was someone else in the car.
My eyes widened as I looked back. A man was casually leaning against the elevator wall, holding a coffee by the rim with a few fingers. He tilted his head and looked at me. “Excuse me?”
I was blocking the door.
I didn’t recognize him until he walked out.
Dominic Evans.
The professional executive manager I had hired.
My subordinate.
I hoped to God he hadn’t heard my meltdown.
7
Jaxon showed up at my door faster than I expected.
He completely ignored my authority, forcing Avery to take a desk right outside my office. The very next day, she personally delivered a stack of documents to me.
“Hurry up. The CEO is waiting,” Avery said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, looking both arrogant and aloof.
I threw the files directly in her face.
Following Avery’s dramatic screams, crying, and the shocked stares of the entire office, Jaxon stormed in.
The veins on his forehead were pulsing. “Stella, I gave you an inch and you took a mile! What is your problem? She’s my person, how dare you touch her?”
I was so angry I actually laughed. I didn’t want to argue in front of the whole office about what our “relationship” actually was after all those years of me catering to him and his refusal to set boundaries.
It was too degrading.
I stood up. Before the real confrontation began, a figure walked over and knocked on the door.
Dominic stepped in, handed me a file, and glanced at Avery. He said smoothly, “The CEO assigning subordinates to the VP without her approval is quite inappropriate. Internal warfare among top executives makes a lot of noise. It’s bound to alarm the Board of Directors.”
He gave a faint smile and looked at Jaxon. “Given VP Wright’s temper, if you try to force someone on her, you’ve got to use corporate protocol. Otherwise, she won’t just be throwing files. What if she decides to throw acid next time?”
I didn’t know if his tone was just too casual, but a few people nearby actually struggled to hold back their laughter, their faces twitching before they regained their composure.
The underlying message was clear: If Jaxon wanted to make me look bad, he had to go through our parents. He only dared to throw tantrums in private because he didn’t have the guts for a real corporate war.
Jaxon froze for a second, about to erupt.
I stared at Dominic’s devastatingly handsome face and hooked my arm through his. “I’m not entirely sure about this section of the report. Come over here and walk me through it. As for the rest of you, what are you waiting for? If you force a person I didn’t hire to stay here, you’ll have to start worrying about her physical safety. As for her, does she want a job, or does she want her dignity? You pick for her, Jaxon.”
Both Avery and Jaxon looked shocked.
One was pale with anger.
The other stared darkly at my hand linked through Dominic’s arm.
Jaxon left. Before he walked out, he sneered at me and whispered, “Stella, are you absolutely sure you want to escalate this to our parents?”
I sat down. It felt like someone had fired a bullet straight into my chest.
Bang. Flesh and blood flying everywhere.
8
My family did indeed owe Jaxon an immense debt of gratitude, but that was strictly limited to the time before his father was released from prison.
Before his father went to prison, my family was not as wealthy as the Brooks family. After he got out, within six or seven years, Richard Brooks dominated Wall Street once again.
Business naturally has its ups and downs. One day, my mom said to me, “Things have been tough these past few years. Thank God we still have your relationship with Jaxon to lean on.”
Looking at the wrinkles that seemed to have appeared on her face out of nowhere, the urge to pour out my grievances was instantly sealed shut.
“You’re so lucky, Stella. After what you went through, Jaxon still doesn’t look down on you. Child, you need to learn to be content.”
I couldn’t utter a single word.
A massive, gaping hole tore open in my chest, the cold wind howling through, bleeding endlessly.
That incident.
How did it suddenly become my fault?
Especially when Jaxon knew exactly what really happened.
9
The tension between Jaxon and me finally reached its breaking point.
That night, there was a high-society gala.
Everyone in our circle was attending.
Even Jaxon’s father stepped off a plane and headed straight there.
I was dreading it. Working late at the office, I delayed going, until Dominic, who was sitting nearby, glanced at his watch.
“It’s almost time. Aren’t you going to change into your dress?”
He had these captivating, peach-blossom eyes that seemed to naturally flirt with everyone he looked at. Yet, when he worked, he was cold, composed, and decisive. He constantly switched between being an illusion and a harsh reality.
Dominic looked up, glancing at the designer dress box. “Dusty pink. It’ll look good on you.”
I had been anxious all night, but suddenly I froze.
My plus-one for the gala was supposed to be Jaxon.
But a few minutes ago, my assistant texted me saying Jaxon and Avery had already gone inside together and had met up with Richard Brooks.
All my business partners were in there. The genuine ones, the fake ones, the ones hoping for an alliance between me and Jaxon, and the ones waiting for me to fail—they were all inside.
It wasn’t that I didn’t have best friends, but most of them weren’t in this elite circle. As for my parents… given our background, how many people really look out purely for their children?
I knew exactly what was going to happen tonight, and yet I had no choice but to go.
My mind drifted back to when I was thirteen.
A gala hosted by my family.
Jaxon was dressed immaculately, but he refused to enter the main banquet hall. He sat by the swimming pool in my backyard. I found him and told him to come inside.
His eyes were ice-cold. “No need. Those people inside just want to see me as a joke.”
I marched up and hugged his arm tightly. “I want to see who dares to laugh at my Jaxon!”
I had already been a simp for him for two years. He had always been freezing cold. That was probably one of the very few times I actually moved him.
In that moment, the pool rippled under the early summer sun. Jaxon looked down at me in surprise, and in his eyes, I saw the reflection of my own face—flushed red, carrying the unique mix of shyness and bravery only a young girl possesses.
Jaxon went inside.
After that, his attitude remained frosty.
But on the day we went back to school, I forgot to bring milk. He pulled a carton out of his backpack and handed it to me. He had kept it in an insulated bag, and it was still warm.
Jaxon placed his hand on the top of my head and said softly, “Drink it.”
Because moments where he was genuinely good to me were so incredibly rare, I took those tiny details and analyzed them over and over again throughout the years. And then, bit by bit, they were shattered by his current coldness and ruthlessness, until there was nothing left.
I forced myself to stand up and sent Jaxon one last text message: “Jaxon, are you truly going to cut ties with me?”
Jaxon replied with a voice memo.
“I just proposed to Avery. We are even now. Stop harassing me.”
Harassing. Heh.
Seeing me smile with such deep sorrow, the man beside me propped his head on his hand and watched me for a long time. Finally, he draped his jacket over my shoulders. “If you’re tired, take a breather before we go. Stella, there’s no rush.”
My name had a repetitive sound to it. In that moment, I didn’t want to overthink whether he called me by a nickname. I sat down. I didn’t cry. I just sat in total silence for five minutes.
Waiting for the blood to rush away and then flood back into my heart.
I finally gave up.
🌟 Continue the story here
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When the school gave the coveted Ivy League Endorsement to the girl who bullied me, I completely stopped caring.
State Physics Olympiad? Hard pass. Valedictorian speech? Nope. Statewide Honors Assessments? I handed in blank Scantrons!
When the Chairman of the School Board came to inspect and specifically requested an audience with me? Oh, I definitely showed up for that.
I walked right onto the stage and snitched: “Dad, the school is rigging the system.”
01
After the mock exam results came out, I proudly took the number one spot in the junior class with a near-perfect score.
But what awaited me wasn’t congratulations, but the mocking gazes of my classmates.
My homeroom teacher, Mr. Harris, called me to his office based on my transcript. Going in with me was Chloe Miller, the Vice Principal’s daughter.
Seeing me, she shot me a provocative glare.
The AC in the office was blasting warm air. Mr. Harris waited for us to sit down before cutting straight to the chase: “The Ivy League Endorsement has been decided.”
His eyes drifted between the two of us, then he smiled and extended a hand toward Chloe: “Congratulations.”
I waited expressionlessly for him to finish, then asked, “What about me?”
Mr. Harris’s smile froze. “Taylor, I called you here to help you process this. I know you study incredibly hard, and you’ve won plenty of honors over the last three years. But your academic foundation is already rock solid, whereas Chloe…”
I finished his sentence for him: “Whereas Chloe has average grades, bullies her classmates, and preys on the weak.”
Mr. Harris: “…”
Chloe flared up: “Taylor, what kind of bullshit are you spewing? Did I not teach you enough of a lesson last time?!”
I shot her a cold glance.
Her so-called “lesson” involved having her clique lock me in the bathroom, putting bugs and dead mice in my desk, and stealing my textbooks and throwing them in the dumpster.
It wasn’t like Mr. Harris didn’t know about this.
I pointed at her arrogant, entitled face. “Even with her like this, the Endorsement still goes to her?”
02
Looking embarrassed, Mr. Harris shot Chloe a warning look, then turned back to pacify me:
“With your grades, you can get into any top-tier university in the country. But…”
I interrupted him: “Didn’t the school bulletin state that the Endorsement prioritizes the number one student in the mocks?”
Mr. Harris furrowed his brows. “That’s what it says, but you don’t really need the extra boost from the Endorsement, do you?”
No, I did need it.
Before high school started, I made a bet with my dad. If I secured the Ivy League Endorsement on my own merits, I wouldn’t have to study finance and could major in music instead.
I refocused my gaze on Mr. Harris. “Over the last three years, I’ve won five national awards, sixteen state-level awards, and countless school honors. I consistently rank first in every single exam. Even with all that, the Endorsement still goes to her?”
Mr. Harris instantly began sweating bullets, his lips moving but no words coming out.
Chloe glared at me, raising her voice: “Are you annoying or what? He spelled it out for you! It’s just one recommendation. If you piss me off, I can make sure you never hold your head up in this town again!”
I ignored her, staring fixedly at Mr. Harris.
Until he finally snapped impatiently: “Rules are dead, but people are alive. The spot is finalized and can’t be changed. You should just focus on scoring a few extra points on the SATs. It makes no real difference.”
I nodded, pulled my gaze away, and turned to leave.
As I walked out, Chloe chased after me and called out: “Taylor! Some people are born on third base, and some strike out. If you want to blame someone, blame your dad for being a nobody!”
03
Walking out of the office, I pulled out my phone and called my “nobody” father.
He didn’t pick up.
A moment later, my dad texted me: “Just arrived at the embassy in DC. What’s up, my precious daughter?”
I chuckled dryly and typed back: “Nothing.”
I guess we were just mules to some people.
My dad immediately transferred $5,000 into my account, adding: “Studying is hard work. Take this and treat yourself to some good food. Daddy has to go into a meeting. I’ll bring you souvenirs when I get back!”
The warning bell rang.
The moment I stepped into the classroom, I heard Chloe’s exaggerated laughter ringing out: “Ugh, it’s just an Ivy Endorsement, it’s not even a big deal.”
The sycophants hovering around her looked at me with their noses in the air.
“Of course it’s a big deal! It’s the spot certain people would kill for.”
“Right? So what if she gets good grades? She still couldn’t beat our Chloe.”
I sat down and prepped for class, acting as if I hadn’t heard a thing.
After class, when Mr. Harris called me over to his desk, I walked right past him, deaf to his voice.
He grabbed my arm, leaned in close, and said displeased:
“Next Friday is the State Physics Olympiad. You’re going to represent the school. This is a state-level competition, and it concerns the school’s prestige. Prepare well this week. If you have questions, go see the physics teacher…”
His voice wasn’t loud, but it was just enough for the whole classroom to hear.
I gave him a passing glance and casually pulled my arm out of his grip.
Then, using a much louder voice, I said: “I’m not going.”
04
The rest of Mr. Harris’s words caught in his throat. His small eyes behind his glasses widened in utter shock, looking as if he’d seen a ghost.
It wasn’t just him; the rest of the class was stunned, too.
“Is Taylor off her meds?”
“Didn’t she use to love these competitions? Wherever there was a spotlight, she was there. What’s wrong with her now?”
“Oh—I get it. She didn’t get the Endorsement, so she’s deliberately rebelling against the teacher.”
“Tch, who does she think she is? Does she really think she can threaten him?”
Mr. Harris snapped back to reality, his frown deepening. “Our school only gets one spot for this Olympiad. If you don’t go, who will?”
I leaned against the wall. “Whoever wants it can take it.”
“Taylor, this isn’t just about you! It’s about bringing glory to the school!”
I rolled my eyes. “Who cares?”
Mr. Harris: “…”
His fingers were shaking with rage. “Taylor! Have I not prioritized you for every single competition? I gave you so many opportunities, and this is how you repay me?!”
I almost wanted to applaud his thick skin.
Just then, Chloe strutted over arrogantly. “Mr. Harris, if she doesn’t want to go, let me. I only dropped five points in the physics section of the mocks. I practice AP problems all the time. I can handle it.”
Mr. Harris nodded. “Chloe is always so dependable. I knew I wasn’t wrong about you.”
He then shot me a dirty look. “An ungrateful brat who bites the hand that feeds her.”
05
Once Mr. Harris left, Chloe glared at me viciously.
I looked back at her, my expression blank and breezy.
She frowned. “What’s with that look? You looking down on me?”
Before I could answer, she sneered, “Don’t think you’re all that. It’s just a little physics competition. I’ll definitely place higher than you ever could.”
Since I didn’t have a competition to prep for, my weekend freed up, and I finally went home for a visit.
Only my sister-in-law, Jenna, was in the living room playing with my nephew. Seeing me, she asked in surprise: “Taylor? Aren’t you prepping for the Olympiad?”
I shook my head, confused. “Jenna, how did you know about the competition?”
“The State Physics Olympiad is tomorrow. I was invited by the Board to proctor the exam.” Jenna explained, then paused as if struck by an idea. “Since you’re home, why don’t you come with me?”
“What would I do there?”
“Don’t you want to try your hand at the paper? I heard they introduced two new problem types this year. It’s supposed to be brutally hard.”
I was instantly intrigued.
Besides music, my biggest passion was cracking impossible logic puzzles. That feeling of clearing the fog fascinated me.
So the next day, I went to the testing center with Jenna.
After the exam officially started, she cleared out a spare office for me to take the test.
Right as the clock neared the end, Jenna pushed the door open, fuming, and slammed her keys onto the desk.
My train of thought broke. I looked up. “What happened?”
Jenna ran a hand through her hair. “Nothing major. Just a girl caught cheating.”
I frowned. “Did you disqualify her?”
“Not yet. It’s a tricky situation, and I didn’t want to disrupt the other students. I just took down her candidate number and I’ll report it later.” Jenna said casually, then picked up my fully answered test booklet. “Done?”
“Pretty much.”
Jenna took my paper. “Great. I have a meeting later, so I’ll drop this off with the grading committee while I’m at it. If you’re bored, just call an Uber and head home first.”
06
I walked out of the testing center and ran straight into Chloe and Mr. Harris.
Mr. Harris took this Olympiad very seriously. He had personally escorted her to the exam, accompanied by several of her lackeys.
They were laughing and chatting by the entrance, practically blocking half the doors. I had barely stepped out before they spotted me.
Seeing me, they swarmed over like stray dogs spotting a bone.
“Taylor, what are you doing here?”
“I knew it. Talked a big game about not competing, but you’re actually dying of regret inside.”
“Of course she is! First prize is ten thousand bucks. That’s enough to feed a broke bitch like Taylor for a whole year.”
Mr. Harris didn’t stop their mocking. Instead, he reprimanded me:
“I gave you a chance and you didn’t take it. What are you doing stalking us now?”
I frowned. “Stalking?”
Chloe demanded, “Yeah! Otherwise, how did you know the testing center was here?”
I replied, “None of your damn business.”
Chloe flared up. “I’m trying to be nice, don’t push it!”
“Get lost,” I said.
Her lackeys quickly jumped in to smooth things over. “Chloe, don’t sink to her level! She’s just jealous of you!”
I glanced at the lackey and said flatly, “You get lost, too.”
“…”
Seeing that a fight was about to break out, Mr. Harris finally intervened.
“Alright, enough of this. Chloe, how do you think you did?”
Chloe’s furious expression instantly flipped into smug triumph.
“I think I nailed it. The questions were super easy, and I finished way early. Getting first place shouldn’t be a problem!”
07
Her lackeys put on exaggerated looks of awe.
“Wow, I knew you were the smartest, Chloe!”
Mr. Harris’s eyebrows practically flew off his forehead. He patted Chloe’s shoulder excitedly.
“I heard they added new problem types this year. Even Taylor wouldn’t have been guaranteed first place. Having this much confidence—you really make me proud!”
Chloe smiled. “Mr. Harris, how could Taylor even compare to me?”
She paused, then added in a dramatic, mocking tone:
“After all, she’s just a sore loser.”
I took a deep breath, turned around, and prepared to leave.
Chloe’s mocking voice grew louder: “Taylor, running away already? Weren’t you acting tough just a second ago?”
I let out an “Oh,” and said expressionlessly, “I don’t compare myself to livestock. It’s bad for my health.”
Chloe: “…”
I don’t know what she told her Vice Principal daddy when she got home.
During the morning assembly the following week, Vice Principal Miller gripped the microphone and passionately praised Chloe:
“Chloe Miller from the Senior AP class achieved absolutely outstanding results in the State Physics Olympiad! Let’s give her an early round of applause!”
Thunderous applause erupted across the school. Her dad took the opportunity to drag my name through the mud:
“Furthermore, I want to criticize a certain student who thinks she is above it all. She put her personal ego above the school’s honor, completely disregarding…”
Before he could finish, a black SUV abruptly pulled up outside the gates behind the football field. Three men in sharp suits stepped out and strode onto the field.
08
Mr. Harris recognized them instantly. His eyes gleaming, he whispered to Vice Principal Miller:
“They’re from the Olympiad Ethics Committee!”
Hearing this, Vice Principal Miller immediately dropped the microphone, plastered on a desperate smile, and rushed forward.
“Ah, you must be the officials from the State Board! Welcome to our campus.”
The three men shook his hand with cool detachment. The lead investigator spoke up:
“We are members of the Olympiad Ethics and Grading Committee. We came to your school today to find someone.”
Because the microphone was still on, their conversation faintly reached the ears of the student body.
Miller, perhaps intentionally, flushed red with excitement. “Who are you looking for?”
“Chloe Miller.”
Miller put on a ‘just as I thought’ expression and roared into the microphone: “Chloe! Come up here, quick!”
Chloe puffed out her chest and proudly marched over to Miller’s side under the gaze of the entire school.
As she walked past me, she let out a cold snort.
The three men confirmed her identity, then announced:
“The results of yesterday’s Physics Olympiad have been finalized. Regarding the student Chloe Miller, we…”
Before they could finish, Miller interrupted them, unable to hide his excitement:
“I know, I know! You must be here to personally congratulate Chloe! It’s so much trouble for you to make the trip. Chloe has always been an exceptional kid, so taking first place was entirely within our expectations…”
The more the three investigators listened, the more bewildered they looked. Finally, unable to take it anymore, they cut Miller off:
“Please let us finish!”
“Yes, yes, go ahead.”
The lead investigator pulled out a formal document:
“Following a review by the Ethics Committee, Chloe Miller was found cheating during yesterday’s Physics Olympiad. We are canceling her score, issuing formal disciplinary action, and delivering a state-wide notice of censure.”
“…”
09
Miller’s eyes went wide in disbelief. “Impossible! How could my daughter possibly cheat?!”
The investigator frowned impatiently and shoved the disciplinary notice into his hands.
“This is the official ruling. If you wish to dispute it, you can file an appeal with the State Board of Education.”
That was what they said, but delivering a major disciplinary notice in person meant there was a zero percent chance of an error.
As they turned to leave, Miller’s face cycled through shades of red, white, and green. He reached out to block them.
“What exactly happened? There were two proctors in that room and four security cameras. If she was really cheating, why wasn’t she disqualified on the spot? Why wait until now to issue a ruling?”
The investigator glanced at Chloe and said meaningfully:
“You’ll have to ask your daughter about that. She’s young but full of ideas. Hiding a micro-receiver inside a hair clip? If she used that cleverness for good, she’d be brilliant.”
Miller whipped around to look at Chloe. “A receiver?!”
Over two thousand pairs of eyes across the school zeroed in on Chloe simultaneously.
What was supposed to be a commendation ceremony had turned into a public execution.
Chloe’s face was as white as a sheet. She stammered, “I… I don’t know anything about a receiver!”
“Save the excuses. All the evidence has been handed over to the police for the record. Young lady, do we need to take you down to the precinct?”
Hearing the word “precinct,” Chloe couldn’t utter another word of defense. She dropped to her knees in front of her father.
“Dad! It wasn’t me! It was my friends’ idea!”
Miller gritted his teeth. He wanted to scream at her, but with the entire school watching, he could only manage: “Get back to your class!”
Chloe hung her head in shame and slinked back to the line.
A teacher from the neighboring class, who had always hated Mr. Harris, laughed sarcastically:
“I thought that Chloe girl from your class was going to make headlines! Well, she certainly made headlines.”
Mr. Harris: “…”
At that moment, I had to try my hardest to think about my dead grandmother just to keep myself from bursting out laughing.
10
After the morning assembly, Chloe was taken away by her father and never returned to the classroom.
By noon, the fallout from Chloe’s disciplinary action was announced.
She was suspended pending investigation and barred from returning to campus for the foreseeable future.
As her escorting teacher, Mr. Harris had his entire semester bonus docked.
Infuriated, Mr. Harris threw a massive tantrum during the afternoon class, making passive-aggressive remarks and pinning the blame entirely on me:
“Running into this mess out of nowhere—what horrible luck! If we hadn’t swapped candidates, I wouldn’t have suffered this injustice!”
The students in the front row were too terrified to breathe.
I, however, lazily propped up my blazer to make a comfortable pillow, resting my head on it, and nodded in profound agreement:
“You’re totally right, Mr. Harris! If we hadn’t swapped candidates, everything would have been perfect!”
When he said “swap candidates,” he meant the Physics Olympiad.
When I said it, I meant the Ivy League Endorsement.
Realizing what I meant, his face grew even uglier. He pointed a finger at me and exploded:
“Who asked you to interrupt when I’m speaking?! Taylor, I used to think you were a good student, but your attitude is atrocious! Get out into the hallway!”
I grabbed my jacket, stood up, and walked out. The door slammed heavily behind me.
Three minutes later, I knocked and opened it again.
Mr. Harris’s face was dark. “What do you want now?!”
I stepped aside, revealing a handsome, clean-cut boy standing in the doorway. “Someone’s looking for you.”
11
Mr. Harris’s fierce glare instantly morphed into fawning flattery the second he saw the boy.
“Liam! What brings you here?”
The moment he said that, a commotion rippled through the classroom:
“Holy shit, it’s Liam Vance from Oakridge Prep! Are you serious?!”
“Ahhh! It’s him! My crush! He’s rich, smart, and gorgeous! He was literally on national TV last year!”
Liam stood in the doorway, his expression cool but polite.
“Hello, sir. I’m looking for a student in your class.”
Mr. Harris’s smile widened, practically beaming like a spring breeze. “Who are you looking for?”
Who in their class could possibly be worth a personal visit from this elite young master?
I leaned against the wall, casually listening as Liam enunciated every syllable: “Taylor Sterling.”
Mr. Harris’s smile froze. I looked at Liam in confusion.
The silence stretched for about five seconds before Liam politely added:
“I heard she’s in your class. Could you ask her to step out?”
Instantly, Mr. Harris’s eyes darted between Liam and the empty air, filled with disbelief and awkwardness.
After a long pause, he retracted his gaze, his eyelid twitching violently.
“Why are you looking for Taylor? Did she cause some kind of trouble?”
“No.” Liam denied it with a strange look on his face. He thought for a few seconds, then pulled a folded test paper from his backpack. “I just wanted to ask her about her thought process for the final question on this physics exam.”
Mr. Harris: “…”
12
Mr. Harris snatched the paper from Liam’s hand and inspected it closely. “What test is this?”
Liam answered, “The State Physics Olympiad.”
Mr. Harris’s eyes widened in shock. “You must be mistaken. Taylor didn’t even participate in the Olympiad. How could she possibly solve a question like this!”
Liam frowned, looking slightly displeased.
“It’s impossible that I’m mistaken. I got a copy of this directly from my uncle on the grading committee. The difficulty of this year’s exam was insanely high. Only Taylor managed to solve the final section of the last problem. I definitely didn’t remember the name wrong.”
He finished, then looked at Mr. Harris suspiciously. “Are you sure Taylor isn’t in your class?”
The sheer volume of information in Liam’s words was too much for Mr. Harris’s pig brain to process. He couldn’t fathom how I had managed to take the exam.
Hearing Liam’s questioning tone, he instinctively argued back, “Of course Taylor is in my class.”
“Then where is she?”
Mr. Harris shifted his gaze back to me, his lips moving soundlessly.
The next second, I tapped Liam on the shoulder from behind. “Hey, looking for me?”
Liam’s calm demeanor cracked for a split second. He looked at me, scanned me up and down, and asked, “You’re Taylor?”
“Yep.”
“What are you doing out in the hallway?”
I flashed a light smile. “Oh, getting punished. Couldn’t you tell?”
“…”
13
Liam and I crouched together in the corner of the hallway outside the classroom as I explained my thought process for the problem.
No matter how much Mr. Harris beckoned him to come inside and sit down, Liam rejected him with a deadpan, “No thanks.”
He even threw in a veiled insult: “If Taylor has to squat out here, I can too.”
It turned Mr. Harris’s face the color of liver.
Near the end of the period, I finally finished explaining the solution. Before leaving, Liam asked for my number:
“The Statewide Honors AP Assessments are coming up soon. We can discuss practice problems.”
I gave him my number. Liam carefully saved it in his phone, then gave me a meaningful look. “Your homeroom teacher really doesn’t like you, huh?”
I let out an “Huh?” “Is it that obvious?”
He didn’t answer, but a faint smile touched his lips. “I think I get the picture.”
“Hmm?”
“Nothing. See you around.”
I didn’t understand what Liam meant at the time.
It wasn’t until two weeks later, when I saw Liam in our grand auditorium, that I finally understood what his “See you around” meant.
The seven elite prep schools in the state held a joint academic assessment every year.
Before the exams, to boost morale, they organized a seminar featuring the top 100 students from each school. This year, our school was hosting.
Each school was expected to send an outstanding student representative to give a speech. Oakridge Prep sent Liam.
As for our school…
I stared at the pot-bellied Dean of Students, who was desperately trying to comb his combover over his bald spot, and said blankly:
“A representative speech? You could have asked me earlier.”
🌟 Continue the story here
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