Category: English

I am a flight attendant. My husband is incredibly successful, but he doesn’t love me. Every month, he takes a flight that I am working on. And every time, he brings a different glamorous woman by his side. My heart bleeds, but I can only endure it in silence. The last time, right before the plane was about to land, I walked over, leaned down to his ear, and whispered softly: “Carter, I agree to the divorce. I have tomorrow off. Let’s go get it done.” 1 The plane was cruising smoothly at thirty thousand feet. I was at the rear galley organizing the meal carts when the lead flight attendant, the purser, walked over. I stood up straight. “Purser.” She took the checklist from my hands and looked it over. “You’re qualified to be promoted to First Class service. Why don’t you put in for it?” “I don’t think I’m good enough yet. I still have a lot to learn.” “Humility is a virtue, but being too humble isn’t good for your career. Go heat up the meals.” She handed the checklist back to me and returned to First Class. My gaze followed her, landing on the passenger in seat 1A. No one on this crew knew that the VIP in First Class—our airline’s most elite black card holder—was my husband. But sitting next to him was a stunning, radiant woman. I couldn’t go to First Class. I couldn’t bring myself to smile, crouch down, and provide flawless service to my own husband and whatever woman he had brought along. Even though we had been married for a year, we had never truly been husband and wife. 2 I was forced onto Carter by his grandfather. My grandfather and Carter’s grandfather had served in the military together. On our wedding night, he unbuttoned his shirt halfway, stood up, and went out to the balcony to smoke. Halfway through his cigarette, he turned his head. “I own a lot of properties. I probably won’t be coming home every day. Do whatever you want with your time.” He kept his word. He only came back to our marital home about once a month. Later, rumors of him with other women started splashing across the tabloids. Before I even had the chance to call and ask him about it, he called me first. “If you want a divorce, I will agree to it at any time.” That single sentence choked the words right out of my throat. That day, all I could do was nod. “I understand.” A few weeks later, he came home. “Still haven’t filed?” At that moment, it hit me like a physical blow—he was desperate to end this marriage. I just went to bed early, completely ignoring the topic. In the middle of the night, my pillow was soaked with tears. No one knew that I had fallen in love with him a long time ago. We had actually met seven years prior. But he had long forgotten. 3 “Hello, here is your chicken entrée. Please enjoy.” After handing out the meals, I pulled the cart through the premium cabin. He was busy working on his laptop. The woman beside him, draped in a vibrant silk scarf, was admiring the clouds outside the window. The purser walked over and knelt politely beside them. “Sir, would you like to change into some slippers? I can help you with your shoes.” “I can manage, thank you.” He politely declined. “Ma’am, let me help you with your shoes so you can change into slippers.” The woman pulled her gaze away from the window. “Thank you.” The moment Carter looked up, our eyes met. I immediately averted my gaze, quickly pulling the meal cart down the aisle and out of sight. Two hours later, the plane landed. “Have a great day, goodbye.” As they deplaned, the woman linked her arm through his, the wind catching her long, wavy hair. 4 “Still staring? They’re already in their private car.” I turned around to find my colleagues grabbing their luggage bags, getting ready to disembark. “I’m sorry, Purser.” “Do you like him?” I shook my head instantly. “No.” She patted my shoulder and smiled. “Don’t pass up the next promotion.” 5 That night, Carter came home. I didn’t expect him to. When he walked in, I was sitting on the sofa, watching TV with damp hair. Honestly, my mind was entirely blank; I hadn’t absorbed a single second of the show. He was tall and imposing. The moment he stepped inside, the entire penthouse felt smaller. I wanted to ask him about earlier, but the image of them on the plane flashed through my mind, and I swallowed my words. He walked over, sat on the opposite sofa, and took a phone call. That was when I caught the faint scent of alcohol on him. I grabbed a bag of potato chips, ripped it open, and started eating them one by one. “Tomorrow, 9 AM morning briefing.” He hung up the phone and looked at me. I looked back at him. “Nothing you want to ask?” I shook my head. Putting the chips down, I walked into the bathroom. In the mirror, my face looked terrifyingly pale and quiet. When I came out, he was out on the balcony. A few seconds later, the glow from his phone screen vanished. He turned sideways, a faint smile lingering on his lips before it quickly faded away. I stood frozen, speechless. His happiness, in the end, had absolutely nothing to do with me. 6 He slept in the guest room. I woke up extremely early to head to the airport. He was up, too. The elevator descended, but we stood on opposite sides of the cab. When we reached the lobby, I stepped out, while he took it down to the parking garage. The weather that day was horrendous. During the flight, we encountered severe turbulence, and the plane dropped violently multiple times. After we finally landed safely, everyone wept in relief. That particular flight even went viral on the news. Standing in the bustling terminal, I stopped and checked my phone. Not a single call. My sorrow, in the end, had absolutely nothing to do with him either. 7 The next time I saw him was a month later, on a flight from JFK to LAX. The weather that day was absolutely gorgeous. The sun was shining brightly, and the flight was incredibly smooth. He brought the exact same girl from last time. She had very pale skin. Halfway through the flight, she rested her head on his shoulder and fell into a peaceful sleep. It also happened to be a holiday. International Women’s Day. The airline had prepared roses. “Ladies and gentlemen, today is International Women’s Day. Our airline has prepared a rose for every female passenger on board. May all the women flying with us today live fearlessly and gracefully.” “Happy holidays to you!” “Thank you, the airline is so thoughtful.” “I don’t even get flowers on normal holidays, who knew I’d get one on a plane.” “Happy holidays to you too, miss.” After handing out the flowers, I glanced toward the premium cabin. The purser was handing a rose to the girl sleeping beside him. “Happy holidays. I’ll just leave this flower on your tray table, alright?” “Sure.” 8 I went back to the galley, washed the serving trays, and sat down in my jump seat. I stared out at the sea of clouds. My heart felt quiet, yet it ached deeply. The clouds began to part. My freezing fingers twitched. I tilted my head back. Some people are just not meant to be yours. Let it go. Let him walk away. “Ladies and gentlemen, we will be beginning our initial descent into LAX in thirty minutes… We hope to see you on your next journey.” The plane was about to lower its altitude. I stood up, walked over to him, and whispered softly. “Carter, I agree to the divorce. I have tomorrow off. Let’s go get it done.” 10 After work. I dragged a massive suitcase behind me. I pressed my thumb against the biometric lock and pushed the door open. Rarely, he was home early. Was it because we were getting a divorce? The penthouse wouldn’t feel so suffocating to him anymore, so he finally came home early? I hauled my suitcase inside. I started the rice cooker in the kitchen, then went to the master bedroom and began packing. He came and stood in the doorway for a moment. “Don’t pack. You can keep the house.” My body stiffened. I turned around and shook my head. “You bought this place before we got married. I didn’t contribute a single cent. I can’t take it.” With that, I went back to packing. He stood there for another minute before walking away. It was a good thing he left. Folding my clothes one by one into the suitcase, sweeping all my skincare bottles off the vanity and packing them away to take with me. It felt like I had merely been a temporary guest here. Now, it was time to move out. In that moment, I couldn’t feel even a shred of evidence that I was ever the lady of this house. Pathetic, pitiful, useless. 11 I hadn’t expected him to be home tonight. So I hadn’t bought any groceries. There was no need to act like the past, either. Whenever he came home before, I used to cook a multi-course meal, desperately trying to win his heart through his stomach. Once the rice was done, I went down to the deli on the ground floor and bought some cold salads and sides. “Let’s eat.” He put down his book by the floor-to-ceiling window and walked over. The food on the table clearly surprised him. “I thought you weren’t coming back and we were just meeting at the lawyers’ office tomorrow, so I didn’t buy groceries. We’ll just have to make do tonight.” I took a bite of plain white rice. To my surprise, the usually incredibly picky man actually sat down. We ate in total silence. Halfway through, he spoke. “Where did you buy the deli sides? They’re actually pretty good.” He even finished the entire bowl of rice I had scooped for him.

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At the age of eight, I was taken in by the Sinclair family as their adopted daughter. They treated me like their own flesh and blood, and my brother granted my every wish. At my eighteenth birthday party, I accidentally got drunk and laid my heart bare. —I confessed my feelings to my brother. I thought I had just made a fool of myself. But I never expected that Carter’s endless pampering would be entirely withdrawn after that night. 1 I could feel Carter deliberately distancing himself from me. He left early, came home late, and practically ignored my texts. Growing up, Carter was the quintessential aloof heartthrob in everyone’s eyes. No matter how much people hyped his cold demeanor, he still had two lockers full of love letters. But to me, Carter was just a normal, doting older brother. If I cried, he coaxed me; if I caused trouble, he cleaned up the mess. Others teasingly called him fiercely overprotective of his little sister. He never denied it. I always thought I was special to him. It wasn’t until I took a hard fall and busted my lip that I realized the truth. Without the label of “sister,” I was absolutely nothing. When I realized Carter had stopped coming home altogether, I couldn’t pretend nothing had happened anymore. Because I remembered, and Carter remembered too. Mom packed a thermos of soup and asked me to drop it off at his company and bring him home. “Your brother dotes on you the most. He’ll definitely listen to you.” I forced a smile, bitterness flooding my mouth. When I reached the top-floor executive suite, Carter was still working overtime. Seeing it was me, his face remained expressionless as he shifted his gaze back to his screen. I placed the thermos on his desk. The moment I opened the lid, the rich aroma of homemade chicken noodle soup filled the room. “Carter, Mom made this. She wants you to come home and stop working so late.” “Mhm.” I gripped my sleeves tightly and offered a bitter smile. “Carter, I’m sorry about that night… I hope I didn’t freak you out. I drank too much and mistook you for someone else. Please don’t take it to heart.” Carter finally shifted his gaze back to me, his dark eyes bottomless and unreadable. “Mistook me for someone else? I don’t think you know another guy named Carter. Emma, you called my name, told me you liked me, and kissed me.” All the color instantly drained from my face. Carter’s casual words had basically handed me a death sentence. I gripped my trembling hands, desperately trying to stay calm. “Carter, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He had never called me by my full first name before—not even when he was scolding me. So this was what he looked like when he completely stripped away his affection. “Carter, Mom is really worried about you. Just come home. This is your family, after all.” My voice grew hoarse. “If anyone should leave, it’s me. You don’t have to hide from me anymore. I’ll move out… Just stop hiding.” “Suit yourself,” he replied coldly. 2 I moved out, and stayed away for two whole years. I didn’t return home once during that time; I was even more ruthless than Carter. Mom called me more than once, crying and saying how much she missed me. All I felt was a suffocating sense of guilt. I was a complete and utter bitch. They treated me like blood, provided me with food and a luxurious life. Without them, I might have died a long time ago. Yet I was shameless enough to covet their real son. Even if they wanted me home, what right did I have to show my face there? When flu season hit, I unfortunately caught the bug. Just as I swallowed two cold pills, Mom’s call came through. Not wanting her to worry about my pale face, I immediately switched the FaceTime to an audio call. “Sweetie, what are you up to?” “Just got out of the shower.” “Did you wash your hair? Don’t blow-dry it all by yourself, okay? With your brother not around, I worry about you.” I froze, feeling a sudden wave of disorientation. Living alone for two years, I thought I had forgotten. Once, while drying my hair at home, I accidentally got a lock caught in the motor of the hairdryer. Ever since then, no matter how late or tired he was, Carter would always dry my hair for me. Through my hesitation, I inexplicably sensed that Mom was in a fantastic mood today. She said, “Sweetie, are you coming home tomorrow? I’ll have your brother pick you up.” Before I could answer, she dropped the bombshell. “Your brother is bringing his girlfriend home tomorrow.” “We’re all going to have dinner and officially meet her. Sound good? Mom misses you so much.” It felt like a grenade had gone off right next to my ear. My senses failed me. It felt like that shrapnel had hit me dead center, tearing me to shreds. “Emma?” I cleared my throat, forcing a tone of pleasant surprise. “No need to bother Carter! If he’s bringing his girlfriend home, I can just catch an Uber myself.” 3 Unsurprisingly, my fever spiked that night. Not wanting to face Carter and his girlfriend so soon, I took some fever reducers and dragged my feet until dinner time before finally heading to the Sinclair estate. The moment the door opened, Mom hugged me and started crying. “Oh, my sweet girl, how did you lose so much weight?!” Terrified she would notice my fever, I quickly brushed it off with a few comforting words. Mom led me to the dining room, and as my gaze shifted, I finally saw Carter and his girlfriend. According to Mom, the two of them had known each other in college. Reconnecting after starting their careers, they were more mature, and sparks naturally flew. The woman was elegant and beautiful, a perfect match for Carter. She was exactly the type I had always imagined he would like. “Hi Carter. Hi… sister-in-law.” I greeted them warmly, but my choice of words startled her. Mom laughed, patting my shoulder, and shot a look at the blushing Chloe before playfully scolding me. “Oh, this kid! Don’t mind her, Chloe. She’s just a bit clumsy with her words, but hey, it’s bound to happen sooner or later… haha.” Chloe quickly waved her hands in embarrassment, while Carter frowned, staring at me with clear displeasure. How had I managed to piss him off again? It was a title she’d have eventually anyway. The table was filled with my favorite dishes, but I had absolutely zero appetite. After dinner, instead of joining them on the couch for small talk, I ran upstairs to pack some things. My bedroom had a massive walk-in closet where I kept all the birthday gifts I had received over the years. My twelfth birthday present was a tiara. The princess aesthetic had been hugely popular back then. Seeing how much I loved it, Carter had one custom-made for me. He had handed it over so casually, as if he’d bought a cheap trinket from a flea market. It was densely packed with sparkling stones. For the longest time, I thought they were just rhinestones. I later found out they were real diamonds. But none of these belonged to me anymore. They belonged to Carter’s “little sister.” I grabbed a few items of clothing, threw them in a suitcase, and headed downstairs. Seeing me dragging a suitcase, Mom grew frantic. “Sweetie, you can’t stay the night?” “I have some stuff to take care of for grad school.” “Carter! Get Carter to drive you back.” Mom snatched the suitcase from my grip and shoved it into Carter’s hand. He and Chloe were standing shoulder-to-shoulder; they were clearly getting ready to leave together. Why would I third-wheel their romantic drive? Chloe had her arm linked with Carter’s, but Carter was now holding my luggage. No matter how you looked at it, the scene was completely comical. “It’s fine, really! I’ll just call an Uber.” “With your brother right here, why on earth would you take an Uber?” Mom spoke to me gently, then instantly whipped her head around to scold him. “Carter Sinclair! Is it really that agonizing to drive your sister home? Why do you look so miserable?! Chloe, you need to keep a tight leash on him. If you aren’t happy with him, yell at him. If he doesn’t fix his attitude, tell me. If he still doesn’t change, then dump him! A man like this is useless anyway.” Carter just stood there in silence, getting chewed out. At his company, he was the charismatic CEO everyone swooned over. At school, he was the untouchable heartthrob. But at home, Mom tore him down to absolute zero. After taking the scolding, Carter just nodded. He dragged my suitcase and shot a look at me. “Let’s go.” 4 When the car finally parked outside a run-down, aging apartment complex, Carter couldn’t hold back anymore. “What happened to the luxury condo Mom gave you?” Even at a moment like this, my stupid brain was thinking: Is this his way of caring about me? My head was spinning. “My boyfriend lives here, so I don’t really have a choice.” Having said my piece, I tried to bolt out of the car like a fugitive. But Carter was a step faster, instantly locking the doors from the driver’s seat. “Emma, you better explain this to me right now.” His icy tone frightened Chloe, who softly tried to intervene. “Babe, what are you doing? Don’t be so fierce with Emma.” Seeing them acting so affectionate in the front seat made me feel sick to my stomach. Would Carter treat Chloe the way he used to treat me? No, they were a couple. He would treat her a hundred times better than he ever treated me. “Explain what? You can date whoever you want, but I can’t?!” “You didn’t tell me, and you didn’t tell Mom and Dad.” “Did you announce it to Mom and Dad the second you started dating? I don’t need to report every single detail of my life to you.” Something about that sentence must have triggered him. Carter’s face darkened completely. “Say that again.” I was dizzy, my face flushed with fever. I couldn’t stop coughing, and as I did, tears streamed down my cheeks. I didn’t understand what Carter wanted from me. He was the one who cast me aside, and now he was the one getting angry. “I know… I know you look down on him. You think he’s poor and beneath us.” I wiped my tears. “But I don’t have some grand ambition… I just… I just want someone who treats me well, someone who loves me. That’s all I need.”

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Four years after my death, Nana dug out my old cell phone and called Olivia. Olivia: “It’s been exactly four years, and you finally thought to call me?” “What, did your sugar mamas run out of cash? If you’re broke, just go find a few more women to sell yourself to. Don’t play the victim with me.” “Let me tell you something: I don’t ever want to see you again, even if you’re dead!” On the other end of the line, Nana froze, her hunched back looking especially frail and lonely. She clutched the phone and asked cautiously, “Livvy, did you and my Ethan get into a fight? I can’t find him.” After saying that, Nana stared blankly across the empty room. As if suddenly remembering something, she murmured, “Oh, right. Ethan is dead. He’s gone. How could I forget again…” 1 Maybe it was because I couldn’t bear to leave Nana behind, but I stayed by her side as a spirit after I died. Unfortunately, Nana had Alzheimer’s, and she often forgot that I was dead. This time, she had another episode. She wandered off to the park by herself and forgot the way home. The stubborn little old lady sat on a bench, muttering to herself, “It’s okay if I can’t find the way. When Ethan realizes I’m not home, he’ll definitely come out looking for me.” My soul was hovering right beside her. Even though she wasn’t far from home, she couldn’t hear me, so I had no way to point her in the right direction. As the sun began to set, my ghostly form started pacing around frantically. An eighty-year-old woman spending the night alone in the park—she wouldn’t be able to handle the cold. Fortunately, Nana seemed to realize this too. Looking at the thinning crowd, she finally stood up. She walked up to someone, grabbed their arm, and asked, “Have you seen my grandson, Ethan?” I knew that as long as she asked someone, they would chat with her, realize she was lost, and probably take her to the local police precinct. Once she was at the precinct, she would get home safely. Unfortunately, Nana asked the wrong person. Because the person she grabbed was Olivia. Olivia looked down at Nana, a hint of impatience in her voice. “Where did Ethan go? Why are you out here alone?” “It’s so late and he just left you sitting in a park? He’s probably out messing around with…” 2 She didn’t finish the sentence, perhaps out of respect for Nana. But I knew exactly what she meant. She wanted to say I was probably out messing around with some random woman. See? Even though I had been dead for four years, this woman’s disgust for me hadn’t faded one bit. Nana didn’t pick up on the hostility. Seeing Olivia actually made her incredibly happy. “Livvy! It’s been so long since you came over for dinner. Don’t you love Nana’s homemade pot roast? Tomorrow is your birthday, come over and eat.” “You young people need to treat each other well when you’re dating. My Ethan is a good boy, he just likes to keep his feelings bottled up.” “When he left the house today, he said he was going to buy you a birthday present. He wanted to give you a surprise tomorrow.” So Nana’s memory was stuck on that exact day. Back then, we were still deeply in love, attached at the hip like any other passionately dating couple. And her childhood sweetheart hadn’t returned yet. What a shame. Hearing this, a mocking smirk tugged at the corner of Olivia’s mouth. “Nana, this isn’t funny.” “Ethan and I already broke up.” “And if he went out to buy a birthday present, it was probably for another woman.” Nana stared at her, stunned. “You broke up? But Ethan never told me.” “Livvy, don’t be mad. When Ethan gets back, I’ll teach him a lesson!” The little old lady looked adorable when she was angry. I wanted to hug her, to tell her not to be upset, but my arms just phased right through her body. Four years, and I still hadn’t gotten used to being nothing but a ghost. 3 Olivia’s smile grew wider, colder. She obviously didn’t believe a word Nana said. “I told you, we are completely over.” “If this is just some trick Ethan taught you to play, I’ll let it slide this one time.” “But please, never bring up his name in front of me again.” Just then, two neighborhood ladies walked over, looking surprised to see Nana. “Ma’am, it’s so late, why aren’t you home yet? Did you forget where you live again?” Then, one of them whispered to the other, clicking her tongue. “It’s a tragedy, really. She and her grandson were all each other had, but then the boy died four years ago. Now it’s just this poor old lady all by herself.” Yeah, I died four years ago. I remember that birthday four years ago. I went to the mall, full of excitement to buy her a present, only to see her walking arm-in-arm with another man. After stumbling out of the mall in a daze, I got a DM on Instagram from a stranger. I opened it. It was a selfie of a guy in a white button-down shirt, lying on messy white hotel sheets. Right next to him on the nightstand was a distinct, elegant custom lapel pin. Along with the photo was a message: They say a new fling can never beat a childhood sweetheart. Think you stand a chance against me? I recognized that lapel pin. It was the birthday present I had given her. I remembered it so vividly because, even though it wasn’t wildly expensive, I had designed and crafted every piece of it myself. Olivia never minded that it wasn’t a luxury brand. She even wore it to major corporate board meetings. She used to say it was the symbol of our love. But now, that symbol was casually sitting by another man’s hotel bed. That was the moment I realized love could be so incredibly cheap. 4 Hearing the neighborhood lady’s words, Olivia’s entire body went rigid. A chaotic mix of emotions flashed across her face. Finally, she asked in disbelief, “What did you just say? Ethan is dead?” “You’re lying to me, right? Ethan put you up to this.” “That man is a pathological liar.” The two ladies looked shocked. While holding onto Nana, they muttered to each other: “Who is this girl? Is she crazy?” “Seriously, who lies about someone being dead? That’s just cursing them.” Hearing them, Nana seemed to remember again. She opened her mouth, her lips trembling, and finally whispered, “Yes… my Ethan… he’s gone…” Olivia just stood there, completely frozen, looking almost ridiculous. And my drifting soul followed the two ladies as they helped Nana walk all the way home. When Nana finally stepped through the front door, I actually felt relieved that Olivia hadn’t followed us. Perhaps remembering my death made Nana sad. The lonely little old lady sat on the sofa, her thin, frail hands tracing the glass of my photograph as she cried silently. “Tell me, you were so young, how could you leave your Nana behind?” I floated over, trying to wipe her tears, but grabbed nothing but air. I could only cry with her. “Nana, I didn’t leave. I’m right here.” But she couldn’t hear me. Right then, the doorbell rang, followed by Olivia’s voice. “Nana, open the door. It’s me, Olivia.” I panicked. No. Don’t open the door for her. If she comes in and starts going through my old things… 5 I didn’t dare to imagine what would happen. Nana was a bit slow to react. Hearing the doorbell and the shouting, she slowly turned her head. She seemed to be trying to process it. Outside, Olivia’s voice rang out again: “Nana, just let me in.” “Ethan, I took a second to calm down and think about it. There’s no way you’re actually dead. You just wanted to trick me into coming over.” “Well, I’m here now! Stop pretending and open the door!” She was pounding on the door and aggressively ringing the bell. I was furious. All this shouting was going to terrify Nana. She never used to act like this. Back then, whether it was to me or Nana, she spoke softly, always terrified of sounding too harsh. But now, she wasn’t just ringing the bell; she was practically trying to break the door down. Filled with resentment, I rushed to the door to warn her off. But my ghostly form just phased right through the wood. No matter how angry I was, I was just weightless air. Because I couldn’t teach her a lesson, I felt completely helpless. Tears of pure frustration welled up in my eyes. But I was just a ghost; even crying lacked the cathartic release it had when I was alive. I screamed at her, “Yeah! I’m lying to you! So leave! Get out of here and don’t ever come back!” While I was throwing my tantrum outside, a loud crash echoed from inside the apartment. Terrified something happened to Nana, I phased back through the door. Thankfully, Nana was still sitting safely in her chair. It was just a picture frame that had fallen to the floor. Nana, looking as if she had just woken from a dream, stared at the frame on the floor and slowly bent down to pick it up. Holding it in her hands, she gently wiped my photo over and over again. “It got dirty. Ethan loved this picture the most. Thank goodness the glass didn’t break.” She was right. It used to be my favorite photo. Because Olivia had taken it. But I wanted to tell Nana that it wasn’t my favorite anymore. My favorite photo was the one sitting right next to her hand—a picture of me and her together.

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At the wrap party, everyone was cheering and egging on Valerie Stone and Chase Montgomery to “recreate the kiss” from the show. The two looked at each other and shared a knowing smile. A second later, their lips were locked together. Amidst the excited screams, someone suddenly shouted, “Let’s get the second male lead and the female lead to share one too!” Valerie’s eyes instantly darkened. I was the second male lead. And I was Valerie’s actual boyfriend. 1 The room fell completely silent under Valerie’s icy glare. It was a little awkward. Chase quickly grabbed Valerie’s hand. “Alright, guys, knock it off. I’ll kiss Val again for you, but don’t force her to do something she doesn’t like.” Something she doesn’t like? I wonder who it was that got drunk the night before and clung to me, kissing me for ten minutes straight. I set down my glass, stood up, and walked toward Valerie. “It’s just a kiss, isn’t it?” I smiled. “It’s no big deal. Play along, our Best Actress.” Valerie furrowed her brows. “Wyatt.” It was a warning tone. “Wyatt,” Chase also reached out to shield Valerie. “Everyone’s just joking around. Don’t take it seriously.” I lowered my gaze. Valerie’s hand was resting perfectly on his waist. The way they were holding each other, you’d think they were tragically being torn apart. “Screw off,” I said flatly. Chase froze, turning to look at Valerie. Valerie’s face grew even darker. “Wyatt, stop causing a scene,” she said sternly. Chase tugged at her arm gently. “Wyatt must be drunk. It’s the wrap party today, you can’t be mad at him.” She let out a soft, affectionate huff and flipped her hand over, gently holding his. How incredibly intimate. I looked up at this woman leaning into Chase’s embrace. Just like in the show, I was the malicious supporting character, and she was fiercely in love with the leading man. Even though I was her actual boyfriend, she had never once acknowledged me in front of others. “Screw off,” I repeated, swallowing my disgust. “This time, both of you. Screw off together.” 2 The main characters, of course, did not screw off. Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, I slammed the door and left. While I was sitting alone on the hotel rooftop having a drink, a text from Valerie came through. “Come back and apologize to Chase.” “Just say you had too much to drink.” Heh. Without a second thought, I blocked her number. A light drizzle began to fall from the sky, and I looked up. I couldn’t help but think about the four years I had spent with Valerie. For four years, I stayed by her side, watching her grow from a trending internet star to an award-winning A-lister. Back then, she starred in a low-budget web series that accidentally blew up. Her agency arranged for her to do a PR showmance with the male lead, Chase, and she had no way to refuse. She was miserable at first. She used to hold me and say, “I really don’t want to fake this relationship with him. I have to pretend he’s you just to force a smile.” She said, “Wyatt, wait for me. Wait until I’m a big star who can stand on my own, wait until I’m no longer controlled by them. I promise I’ll tell the whole world that I love you.” Back then, we would dream about our future together. A dog, two kids, three meals a day, four seasons a year, our hearts beating as one. When did it start to change? She replied to my texts less and less, yet the way she looked at Chase grew softer and softer. They kept up their PR romance for four years. They never officially confirmed it, but the tension was always there. In public, he would tie her shoelaces on set and take her for scenic bike rides into the hills between takes. In private, she would lend him her lawyers for his defamation suits and bring him along to private dinners with renowned directors. The fans called them the “Details Couple,” always finding sweet little romantic clues in their interactions. Maybe some things, after being acted out for so long, eventually become real. I was just trapped in the game, too foolish to realize it. 3 When my manager, Toby, called, I was already a little tipsy. “Wyatt, where are you?” I mumbled a vague response. “Something happened! You’re trending everywhere!” Trending? That sobered me up halfway. I opened my phone. Someone had leaked a video of the wrap party online. The top four trending hashtags were all about Valerie and Chase. #ValerieAndChaseChemistry #ValerieChaseWrapPartyKiss #WhenWillValerieAndChaseGoPublic #HowMuchWouldYouGiveForValerieChaseWedding And starting from the fifth spot, it was all me. #WyattTheClown #WyattBullyingChase #WyattNepoBaby The comments under the tags were tearing me apart. “Who does this guy think he is? Does he have no shame? With that filthy mouth of his, he actually thought he could kiss our Valerie.” “So disgusting. Did they spray air freshener in the room after he left?” “He acts like such a diva, slamming the door and storming out. Who gave him the audacity? Someone needs to investigate who his sugar daddy is. Trash.” “Ugh, I’m so mad! Just because he bought his way in doesn’t mean he gets to bully our Chase!” “I usually separate the character from the actor, but with Wyatt, he was clearly just playing himself.” “Zero acting skills and brought his own funding. I heard he practically bought the second male lead role. No wonder he plays the villain so well!” Bought the role. Heh. I definitely didn’t buy the role. I had originally earned the male lead for this show through my own hard work. But right before filming started, Valerie’s agency pressured the producers to swap me out for Chase. They said Chase and Valerie had more on-screen chemistry, and that’s what would make the show a hit. Valerie even came to me and said that if we played a couple on screen, she’d have a hard time controlling herself and might expose our real relationship. I refused and got into a massive fight with her. “My contract with the agency is expiring soon. Wyatt, can’t you just be understanding for once?” She said I wasn’t thinking about her. But she had no idea how hard I had worked to win that role. The director didn’t agree with the change at first either. She chatted with me, saying she would stick by her casting choice. But the next day, the director was fired. And I was reassigned to the second male lead. The malicious villain. That night, watching Valerie and Chase do joint promotional interviews for the new show, I chewed on a piece of plain bread bite by bite. They say bread tastes sweeter the longer you chew it, but all I tasted was bitterness. Sometimes, people just refuse to give up hope until they see and hear it with their own eyes and ears. Back then, I still harbored a sliver of delusion. I thought that once her contract ended and she was free of her restrictions, we could finally be together openly. I wanted to be close to her. I wanted to spend more time with her, so I still took the role. But it felt like swallowing knives every day, witnessing her and Chase’s “sweet affection” off-camera, every single second. I scrolled further down and saw another trending tag. #ValerieProtectsHerMan The comments were flooded with demands for them to get married. And of course, every few lines, there was a curse or insult hurled at me. They said someone who bullies people like I do should go die. An hour had passed. Valerie hadn’t posted a single clarification. Everyone involved stayed completely silent, letting the trending tags climb to the very top. I took out my phone and unblocked Valerie. I had been impulsive earlier. Things still needed to be made clear. Word by word, I typed out the sentence I never thought I would ever write. “Valerie, let’s break up.” 4 It took Valerie three hours to find me. “Are you drunk? Did you seriously block me?!” she said, walking over and grabbing my arm. “Don’t touch me,” I said, shaking her off. “Wyatt, there’s a limit to throwing a tantrum,” she lowered her voice. “Causing a scene at the wrap party was your fault to begin with.” “Was I wrong to ask you to apologize? You could have solved this with a simple apology, but you had to blow it up so the whole internet knows.” I let out a dry laugh. “And did you suffer any losses?” She went silent. Of course she didn’t. This was incredible free publicity. The show was viral before it even aired. That was why all the trending hate toward me was still up. Nobody was going to deal with it. It was pathetic. I was pathetic. I stood up unsteadily and pushed her away. “Valerie, I really mean it. We’re done. Stay as far away from me as possible from now on.” “You’re drunk.” She frowned. “I mean every word.” Valerie stared at me silently for a moment, sighed, and softened her tone. “Honey, let’s stop fighting, okay? Let’s go home.” “You leave. Toby is coming to pick me up soon!” But instead of leaving, she forcefully squeezed into my arms. “Stop making a fuss. Come home with me. I’ll pretend I didn’t hear you this time, but you are never allowed to mention breaking up again. Do you hear me?” With that, she looked up and tried to kiss me. To be honest, her tricks used to work on me. A few times when we fought over Chase, this was exactly how she coaxed me back. But this time, just thinking about how she had been plastered against Chase a few hours ago made my stomach turn. “Valerie! Stone!” I pushed her away with all my strength and turned my head. “Do you not understand English? I am breaking up with you!” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the rooftop door. Toby was standing there, his eyes wide. He must have just arrived. I pushed Valerie away, grabbed Toby’s arm, and walked off. “Wyatt!” Valerie’s voice rang out from behind, carrying the subtle, bruised anger of someone who had just lost face. “Say what you just said one more time.” I took a deep breath, turned around, looked her in the eye, and enunciated every word. “I. Want. To. Break. Up. With. You.” “Fine. Fine. Perfect,” she laughed coldly. “A breakup, right?” “I accept. Don’t come crawling back.”

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1 “No, I can’t do this anymore…” Desperate for quick cash, I had accepted a part-time product testing gig. The listing promised a generous payout of three thousand dollars just for testing out some new merchandise. But I never could have imagined what kind of products they actually were. They were intimacy devices: high-powered vibrating toys in shades of hot pink, strangely shaped massagers, essential oils that gave off a heavy, suffocating scent, and synthetic stimulants designed to spike your adrenaline and hormones. But the most terrifying thing in the room was the heavy red leather chair. I was currently strapped to it, my wrists and ankles secured, forced to experience every single device in the shop. That day, my body’s natural sensitivity was pushed past its breaking point, trapping me in a nightmare as the shop’s personal testing machine. … My name is Luna, and I’m a dance major from a struggling background. To cover my tuition and monthly expenses, I’ve had to take on almost every odd job imaginable. Right now, I was standing in front of an adult novelty shop. It was a secluded, single-story building located in a quiet, industrial pocket of the city. A dim, warm pink light spun lazily above the entrance, casting an eerie glow over the pavement. My heart did a nervous flutter, and I checked the address on my phone one last time. This was the place. Yesterday, a notification had popped up on my student job board app: High-paying gig, first come first served. Female only. When I saw the three-thousand-dollar payout, I didn’t stop to think. I just tapped “accept.” Only now, standing in front of the locked door, did the reality of the situation sink in. A three-thousand-dollar testing job wasn’t going to be for regular household appliances. It was going to be for highly private, intimate novelty products. I swallowed hard, my throat dry. I had heard rumors of other college girls taking similar high-paying gigs. One girl had returned to the dorms with her legs shaking so badly she couldn’t leave her bed for a week. As I hesitated, my phone buzzed in my hand. It was a text from my landlord, Mr. Davis. Luna, rent is due next week. Don’t be late. On one hand, I was facing immediate eviction. On the other, I had three thousand dollars practically waiting for me. I grit my teeth. It was just a product test, right? People used these things every day. There was nothing to be afraid of. I took a deep, shaky breath, knocked on the door, and waited. The door was opened by a tall, heavily built man in his late object-thirties. He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of loose gray sweatpants, his skin glistening with sweat as if he had just finished a strenuous workout. A heavy, sweet, yet metallic scent drifted from the interior, making my chest tighten. The man leaned against the doorframe, his eyes scanning me from head to toe. “You here for the gig?” This had to be Marcus, the owner. I offered a quiet nod. He was easily twice my size, and the fear I had managed to push down came rushing back. Marcus let out a slow, satisfied grin. “Well, they finally sent me a good one.” His gaze was incredibly intense, as if he were looking straight through my clothes. I clenched my fists, feeling like prey cornered by a predator. “Come on in,” he said, turning back into the dimly lit room. I stepped inside, the heavy, sweet scent instantly wrapping around me. The room was dark, save for the bright glow of a thirty-two-inch monitor on the main desk. As my eyes adjusted, my body went rigid. The screen was playing a highly explicit, graphic video. On the monitor, a woman was bound to a leather chair, her limbs restrained as she was subjected to various mechanical devices, her muffled gasps echoing softly from the desktop speakers. The sheer explicitness of the scene made my pulse race, a strange, nervous heat blooming in my cheeks. I tried to look away, but my eyes kept darting back to the screen. Marcus caught me looking, a low chuckle escaping his throat. “You don’t have to look away. It’s just human nature, after all.” He reached over and unplugged the headphones, letting the loud, rhythmic sounds of the video fill the empty room. “No, that’s… that’s fine,” I stammered, stepping toward the display shelves to distance myself, only to find them lined with massive, bizarrely shaped silicone devices that looked entirely unnatural. “Marcus, please… can we just get the test started? I’d like to finish as quickly as possible.” My heart was pounding against my ribs, my voice shaking. “Eager, aren’t we?” Marcus switched on a standing lamp, casting a warm, amber glow across the room. Now I could clearly see the layout. In the center of the room sat a massive king-sized bed, and beside it was an intricate red and black leather chair fitted with heavy straps and various mechanical attachments. “Right here,” Marcus said, patting the leather headrest. “This is our newest import. You’re going to be testing it today.” 2 “What?!” I gasped, taking a step back. I had assumed the testing would involve small, hand-held devices, things I could easily manage. But the chair in front of me was the exact model from the video, the one where the woman had been completely overwhelmed by the machinery. The thought of being strapped to that device made my skin crawl. “I’m not doing this. I want to cancel.” Marcus reached out, his heavy hand clamping firmly around my forearm. “Don’t be so quick to leave. This chair cost me a fortune to import, and it’s just a sensory massage system. Nothing more.” “Besides, if you back out now, you’ll have to pay the cancellation fee.” “What cancellation fee?” I demanded, trying to pull my arm free. Marcus’s lips curved into a smug smile. “I guess you didn’t read the fine print on the app.” I quickly pulled out my phone, opening the gig contract. Hidden at the very bottom of the terms was a clause stating that if the tester cancelled after arriving at the venue, they would be liable for double the payout in liquidated damages. Six thousand dollars. I had been so blinded by the three-thousand-dollar offer that I hadn’t even looked at the terms. I didn’t have six hundred dollars to my name, let alone six thousand. “I didn’t think you’d have that kind of cash lying around,” Marcus murmured, his grip on my arm tightening slightly. “How about this? If you cooperate and complete the test, I’ll add another two thousand to your payout.” Five thousand dollars. My resolve crumbled. The thought of my unpaid rent and my empty bank account flashed in my mind. “Fine,” I whispered. “But you have to stop if I tell you to.” “Of course,” Marcus promised, his voice smooth. “The moment you say stop, I’ll shut it down.” He guided me to the chair, and I lay back against the slick, cold leather. It was surprisingly comfortable, but the moment my limbs were in place, Marcus pulled the thick leather straps over my wrists and ankles, securing me flat against the frame. The interior of the straps was lined with soft velvet, preventing them from chafing my skin, but the realization of being completely helpless made my breath hitch. He walked over to a small table and lit a heavy, scented candle. As the sweet, exotic aroma filled the air, a strange, heavy relaxation began to wash over me, dulling my anxiety. “During the test, I need you to be completely honest about what you feel,” Marcus instructed, picking up a clipboard. “Your feedback determines the final report.” I nodded slowly, trying to stay focused. “Okay.” He flipped a switch on the console, and a low hum vibrated through the chair. It started gently, a pulsing sensation that moved from my calves to my thighs. “It… it tickles,” I murmured, squirming slightly. Marcus made a quick note on his clipboard. “Highly sensitive. Good.” The intensity of the vibration increased, the pulses growing stronger as they moved up toward my lower abdomen. A sudden, sharp wave of heat bloomed inside me, making my chest rise and fall rapidly. I tried to arch my hips away from the vibration, but the straps held me firmly in place. “What does it feel like now? Is it too intense?” Marcus asked, his eyes locked on my face. “It’s… it’s too much,” I gasped, my skin flushing as a feverish warmth spread through my limbs. “Marcus, turn it off… please!” The machine suddenly surged, the localized vibrations pulsing rapidly against my core. I cried out, my mind spinning as the unnatural, drug-induced stimulation overwhelmed my senses. Finally, the machine clicked off. I lay gasping for air, my skin slick with sweat, my mind completely scrambled by the intensity of the sensation. “We need to remove your outer clothes for the next phase,” Marcus said, his voice dropping an octave. “The fabric is damp, and it’s interfering with the sensors.” Before I could protest, my mind still clouded by the heavy scent of the candle, Marcus reached down and unzipped my shorts, pulling them and my shirt away until I was left in only my underwear. The cool air of the room hit my damp skin, making me shiver. He picked up my shorts, his eyes dark as he examined them. The cold air helped clear my head, and a sudden wave of panic washed over me. “No… we didn’t agree to this. I want to stop!” I struggled against the leather straps, but Marcus simply looked down at me, a cold, dark grin on his face. “You don’t get a say anymore.”

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1 My brother was rotten from the start. He tried to kill me more times than I could count. At five, he threw a lit lighter onto my lap. The flames melted half my face, scarring me forever and leaving a constant, burning itch. Through tears, I told the truth, but Mom only held me and whispered, “Your brother’s just a baby. He couldn’t have done that.” At ten, he tricked me into fetching a ball from a thorn thicket hiding a hornet’s nest. I was stung by hundreds, fell down a ravine, and shattered my leg. My kidneys failed, leaving me tied to a catheter for life. Still, no one believed me. “You weren’t careful,” they said. “Stop being a burden.” On my eighteenth birthday, he shoved peanut butter cake into my mouth. I choked instantly, collapsing as he stood over me, grinning at my struggle. Only when he’d had his fill did he run out shouting, “Grace ate cake and had an allergic reaction!” Mom screamed. Dad cursed. “Why won’t that useless girl just die already?” I smiled. [Congratulations, Host. Hidden ending unlocked: 99 Deaths.] [In 24 hours, the portal to the real world opens.] My throat was almost entirely blocked. Every attempt to breathe sounded like a broken bellows, yet not a single drop of oxygen reached my lungs. As I lay on the floor drifting into unconsciousness, I heard heavy, hurried footsteps echoing down the hall. Dad burst through the door and immediately slapped me twice across the face. “Always stuffing your face! Are you really that greedy? What did I do in a past life to deserve you? Can’t you give us one single day of peace?” Mom was frantically tearing through the drawers. “Where is the EpiPen? Where does this stupid girl keep her emergency medication?” When I was first injured years ago, they kept emergency meds in every corner of the house. Back then, even a slight cough from me would make Mom panic and rub my back. “Are you okay, Grace? Do we need to go to the hospital?” But as the incidents piled up, their concern morphed into exhaustion. Eventually, I was left to drag my crippled leg to my follow-up appointments all by myself. Of course she didn’t know where the medication was. She hadn’t cared enough to look in years. Dad’s face darkened, and he dumped the contents of a drawer onto the floor, his voice dripping with irritation. “If we can’t find it, then fine. Maybe we will finally all be free.” Two agonizing minutes later, Mom found the pen on top of a cabinet. Her hands shook as she plunged the needle into my thigh. The crushing weight on my chest slowly lifted, though the fiery red hives covering my body still burned, and the residual muscle aches left me pinned to the floor, unable to move a muscle. Mom looked at Dad, a flicker of guilt in her eyes. “Maybe we should take her to the hospital just to be safe?” Dad hesitated for a fraction of a second, but then his anger flared up again. “To the hospital? With what money? Every penny we make goes toward her endless medical bills! Luke, next time your sister tries to kill herself, don’t bother telling us. Once she’s gone, the rest of us can finally have a real life.” He slammed the door behind him. Mom sighed, shooting me one last disappointed look before following him out. Luke leaned down, whispering in my ear with a cruel chuckle. “Can’t die, can’t leave. Pretty miserable, huh? Guess what kind of game we are going to play next time?” He strolled out of the room, puffed up with pride, totally missing the genuine smile that spread across my face. Thank God. I am finally the one who gets to be free. Years ago, in the real world, I had been terminally ill and refused to be a burden to my grandmother. I jumped from the hospital rooftop, only to hear a mechanical voice in my head as I fell. [Host detected. Survival instinct is below 10%. Initiating the Rebirth Redemption Quest. If you successfully complete your mission, you will be rewarded with a healthy, brand-new life in your original world.] My mission was to redeem my sociopathic younger brother, Luke. From the day he was born, I did everything to care for him, constantly whispering words of love and guidance. But on the very night he learned to speak, he stared at me with a sickeningly sweet smile. [You are the ninety-ninth host I’ve met,] he had whispered inside my mind. [The first ninety-eight died playing my games. I hope you last a bit longer.] That was when I realized he wasn’t just a troubled child. He was a malicious, corrupted transmigrator. With his twisted experience, Luke easily turned my life into a living hell, systematically stripping away my parents’ trust until I was completely isolated. When I was lying in a hospital bed with third-degree burns, clinging to life, the system’s voice had chimed again. [Due to a major world glitch, Host has unlocked the hidden ending. Surviving ninety-nine deaths will also count as mission completion.] In truth, every one of Luke’s pranks should have killed me. The system had kept my broken body barely functioning, forcing me to endure over a decade of horrific torture just to reach this day. [The portal opens in 24 hours. You only need to experience your one-hundredth and final death to leave this world forever.] I forced my battered body up, trying to drag myself back onto the mattress, but my palm accidentally pressed down hard on the emergency call button on my headboard. A piercing alarm blared. Footsteps thundered down the hallway, and the door was thrown open once more. 2 Dad stood at the entrance, chest heaving, his car keys clenched tightly in his fist. Mom scanned me with lingering panic. “What is it now?” I shook my head weakly. “Nothing… I just…” Before I could finish, Dad hurled his car keys directly at my face. They struck the bridge of my nose with a sickening crack, sending a blinding wave of pain through my skull. “If it’s nothing, why the hell did you press the alarm? Are you trying to give your mother and me a heart attack?” Dad roared. “You’re already a useless cripple, and now you’re acting out like a psychopath. Why can’t you be more like your brother? When are you going to grow up?” Watching him rave, I felt absolutely nothing. No anger, no sorrow. The stolen happiness of my childhood was always meant to be paid back. Before Luke was born, my parents had treated me like their whole world. I wore the nicest clothes they could afford. When I mentioned wanting to learn the piano, Dad worked three months of overtime just to buy me a high-end brand and hire a professional tutor. When a boy at school cut my hair as a prank, my normally timid mother marched straight into the principal’s office and fought for me tooth and nail. In the real world, I had been raised by my grandmother and never knew what it felt like to have parents. For a brief, foolish moment, I had actually hoped I could stay with them forever. But then Luke arrived, and the dream shattered. Even as an infant, Luke would spit in my face. When I pinched his cheek in frustration, Mom yanked me away, her eyes cold with disappointment. “Grace! You’re the older sister! How could you lay a hand on a baby? Did we teach you nothing?” After the fire, whenever the scars on my face flared up with excruciating pain, I would sob and clutch Mom’s hand. “It was him! He threw the lighter at me! He was born evil, Mom! He’s going to ruin us all!” I begged. “Please, it’s not too late. We have to watch him. Don’t let him fool you!” At first, they offered half-hearted comfort. But eventually, Dad’s patience snapped. He slammed a heavy glass ashtray onto the floor, his eyes shot with blood. “Grace, we tolerated your tantrums because we felt bad for you! But this is insane! You caused that fire yourself, and now you’re trying to frame your toddler brother?” He raised his hand to strike me, but Mom held him back, looking at me with pitying disdain. “Grace, listen to me. I know what you’re doing. But throwing these fits out of jealousy to get our attention is only going to make us resent you.” From then on, Luke’s physical abuse became a regular routine, and my parents’ tolerance evaporated. Once, he pushed me from the top of a slide. I hit the concrete head-first and blacked out. When I opened my eyes, I was still lying on the cold pavement. Mom stood over me, her arms crossed. “I suppose your brother did this too? How long are you going to keep up this pathetic act?” she snapped. “Do you think the hospital is a hotel? My credit cards are already maxed out from your bills!” That was the day I gave up. I completely let go of any hope of redeeming Luke. Seeing me silent, Mom sighed and reached down to pull me up from the floor. But Luke’s eyes darted around, and he suddenly let out a shrill cry. “Mom! Dad! Talk to me! I can’t hear anything!” He clutched his ears, feigning agony. “I was standing right next to the alarm. It was so loud… I think my ears are bleeding!” Mom gasped, instantly dropping my arm. My crippled leg hit the hardwood floor with a dull thud, sending a jolt of pain through my spine. “Oh my god, let’s get you to the doctor right now!” she cried. Dad grabbed me by the hair and dragged me toward the basement stairs. “You miserable parasite! You’re already a broken piece of trash, and now you’re trying to ruin your brother too?” he spat. “Stay down here and think about what you’ve done. No food for you today!” The heavy wooden door slammed shut, plunging the cellar into pitch darkness. The only sound was the scratching of mice in the corners. I closed my eyes, peacefully waiting for the clock to run down. Some time later, a rough hand shook me awake. 3 Dad tossed a worn jacket over me, his voice eerily calm. “Put this on. Get up.” My body felt like it was going to detonate. A sudden, violent fever had taken hold, leaving my head spinning. When I didn’t move fast enough, Dad’s face twisted with annoyance. Mom stepped forward, grabbing my limp arms and shoving them into the sleeves. “Grace, stop being stubborn. Just listen to us. We’re doing this for your own good.” Suddenly, she paused. “Why are you burning up? Are you…” Before her hand could touch my forehead, Luke chimed in, his voice dripping with exaggerated sweet concern. “Do we really have to send her to a care facility, Mom? I can skip my tutoring classes. I won’t go out with my friends on weekends anymore. I’ll spend all my time and money looking after Grace myself!” He looked at me, a sickening glint in his eyes. “Grace, just apologize to Mom and Dad. Promise you won’t cause any more trouble, and we can get through this as a family.” A few years ago, a family friend had suggested sending me to a long-term care home after seeing my condition. Back then, Dad had slammed his fist on the table in a rage. “Your father-in-law went into one of those places and died a month later! Are you asking me to murder my own daughter? As long as we have a roof over our heads and food on our table, I will never abandon Grace in a dump like that!” Looking back, the memory was a sick joke. I shook my head weakly. “I didn’t do anything wrong.” Mom’s hand froze in midair, her expression hardening into disgust. Dad’s anger boiled over. He grabbed my arm and dragged me across the floor toward the front door. “I should have shipped you off years ago. Why did I waste so much time and money on an ungrateful leech like you?” I was tossed onto the back seat of the car. With every bump in the road, my internal organs felt like they were being pierced by hot knives. I drifted in and out of consciousness from the sheer agony until the car finally screeched to a halt in front of a pair of rusted iron gates. The facility director, wearing a stained white coat, hauled me out of the car and shoved me into a squeaking wheelchair. “You folks got lucky today,” he said with a greasy smile. “We just had a bed open up. Once you pay the administrative fee, we can get her processed.” Before we even crossed the threshold, the sound of blood-curdling screams and shattering glass echoed from the hallway. A few burly male orderlies rushed past us, pinning a thrashing patient to the dirty floor like livestock before plunging a syringe into his neck. Within seconds, the patient’s eyes rolled back, and he went limp. Mom shrank back, suddenly terrified. “What is wrong with him? And our Grace is a young woman, and you can’t put her in a room with a violent man!” The director shrugged off her concern. “He’s just a bit schizophrenic. He’s perfectly pleasant when he’s medicated. Besides, we’re completely full. Once you’re in a place like this, gender is the least of your worries.” Dad stared at the floor, his face grim, while Mom darted uneasy glances at me. After a tense silence, Dad opened his mouth to speak, but Luke cut in. “Dad, Mom, the air in here is making me feel really sick. I think I’m getting a fever.” He forced out a wet, dramatic cough. “Besides, Grace grew up around boys. I’m sure she’ll get along fine with him.” Panicked, Mom and Dad immediately started pushing Luke toward the exit. “Right, right, let’s get out of here. Director, we’ll leave Grace in your capable hands.” The staff tossed me onto a filthy mattress like a sack of meat. Once the director locked the door, they abandoned us. Late into the night, the schizophrenic patient on the floor finally stirred. He rolled over, locked his wild, bloodshot eyes on me, and let out a manic, silent grin. From beneath his pillow, he pulled a small kitchen knife, playfully tracing its edge along my skin before plunging it deep into my thigh. Dark blood sprayed across the sheets. I was too weak to lift a finger, and even if I could, I wouldn’t have fought back. He went into a frenzy, stabbing at my face and chest. The room filled with the wet, sickening sound of tearing flesh. I bit my lip until it bled, choking back every scream. Just a little longer. Just bear it a little longer, and it will all be over. After what felt like an eternity, the pain vanished. I found myself floating, looking down at my own butchered body. The familiar mechanical voice echoed in my mind. [Congratulations, Host. Mission accomplished. The return portal will open at noon. Please stand by.] My spirit drifted out of the room, wandering the grim halls of the facility. Around eight in the morning, to my surprise, I saw Mom and Dad walking down the corridor. Mom’s eyes were red and puffy. “I couldn’t sleep a wink last night,” she murmured. “No matter how angry we were, we shouldn’t have left her in a place like this.” Dad huffed, though his voice had softened slightly. “You women are always so dramatic. Let’s just see how she’s adjusting. If she’s miserable, and if she’s willing to apologize and beg for forgiveness, maybe we’ll take her back home.” Standing nearby, the director rolled his eyes when they weren’t looking. “They got along beautifully. Not a peep out of them all night. But let me make one thing clear: if you change your minds now, you’re only getting half your deposit back.” A card terminal beeped as Dad swiped his card. Then, the heavy door was pushed open.

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1 To pay for my child’s urgent surgery, I ignored my old injuries and my husband’s protests to enter the rock-climbing championship. As I neared the summit, just a few feet from the finish line, a frantic voice crackled through my earbud. “Brooke, stop climbing!” The voice was raspy, laced with a deep, consuming desperation. Strangely, it sounded hauntingly familiar. “He’s going to release your locking carabiner. You’re going to fall, and you’ll be paralyzed!” Before I could even process the warning, a sharp click echoed from my waist. The tension in my safety harness vanished. I looked down in terror. My husband, Garett, stood on the belay platform below. He held the brake line in one hand, his eyes rimmed with red. “Brooke, Bianca is too proud,” he called up, his voice echoing. “She can’t handle losing to you again, and this championship belongs to her anyway. Your harness is loose. Just forfeit the match. Don’t fight her for this.” I froze on the vertical rock face, my mind going entirely blank. But then I thought of our child lying in the hospital bed, waiting for the money to save his life. I grit my teeth and reached for the next handhold. Suddenly, the voice in my earbud screamed, frantic and raw: “Garett isn’t a broke scholar! He’s a billionaire! He only listened to Bianca’s lies because he wanted to test your loyalty!” “And Jack isn’t your son! He belongs to Bianca and Garett!” … The mountain wind rushed up from beneath my feet, and my fingers began to bleed against the rough rock. How was that possible? How could Jack not be my son? I had endured five hours of agonizing labor, nearly dying on the operating table to bring him into this world. My blood began to slick the stone, and a terrifying weightlessness seized my entire body. When I opened my eyes, I was in a hospital bed, the sound of soft sobbing drifting into my ears. “Garett, I’m so sorry,” Bianca wept. “I just wanted to beat her fairly for once. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I just cared too much about the trophy.” “Don’t blame yourself, sweetheart,” Garett replied, his voice gentle. “I know how much this competition meant to you.” This championship indeed meant everything to both of us. Years ago, when we were known as the twin stars of the climbing world, we had entered this very tournament. Halfway up the wall, my grip had failed, and I fell, shattering my left knee. Bianca had won the trophy that year. The event took place annually, always on damp, rainy days. She had won every year since, while I could only sit in a wheelchair, suppressing the agonizing pain of bone grinding against bone, and offer her my congratulations. This year was my first comeback since my retirement, entered solely to raise the hundred thousand dollars needed for Jack’s surgery. “But what about Brooke’s leg?” Bianca asked after a brief silence. Garett sighed. “Once she donates her kidney to Jack, I’ll reveal my wealth to her and make sure she lives the rest of her life in comfort.” My knee throbbed with a burning agony. I forced myself up, grabbing the edge of the bed. The movement knocked over the IV pole, the metal clattering loudly against the floor. Bianca jumped back from Garett’s embrace, her eyes wide and watery. My gaze fell upon her throat. Resting against her collarbone was a custom silver promise pendant. During the freezing winter we had gotten engaged, Garett had promised to take me somewhere special. He had blindfolded me, guiding me up step after step. When he finally told me to open my eyes, we were standing before a majestic mountain cathedral. “We just walked up all five hundred stone steps together,” he had said, placing the silver pendant in my hand, his palms damp with nervous sweat. “I climbed up every single step on my knees to get this blessed by the priest. He said it would bind our hearts forever.” I had stared at his scraped, red knees, touched by his devotion. “You walked up all five hundred steps on your knees?” He hadn’t answered, only leaning down to fasten the pendant around my neck, his fingers warm against my skin. “Brooke, it’s not worth much, but keep it on. Think of it as me always being by your side.” I had laughed at his sentimentality, but I had never taken it off. When I fell from the rock face, the chain had snapped, and the pendant had vanished. I had spent three days searching through the gravel, weeping when I couldn’t find it. It hadn’t been lost. It had simply found a new owner. “Give it back,” I rasped. Bianca shrank back, her hand instinctively clutching the silver medallion. “Brooke, Garett gave this to me. If you really want it…” She bit her lip, playing the victim. “I can let you have it, but you can’t say ‘give it back’.” “Enough, Brooke!” Garett stepped in front of her, his brow furrowed as he glared at me. “There are millions of identical pendants in the world. How can you be sure it’s yours?” “I understand you’re frustrated about your mistake during the climb, but don’t take it out on Bianca. She did nothing wrong!” “If you’re angry, take it out on me.” My tears began to fall, hot and uncontrollable. Garett’s expression hardened, his tone turning irritable. “What are you crying for?” He paused, as if making a difficult decision. “Brooke, do you really want me to spell it out for you?” I looked at him, but he avoided my gaze, staring out the window. “You’ve been jealous of Bianca’s victory since college, haven’t you? You’ve got it all wrong. The day you fell, you had argued with her, and she cried all afternoon.” The air in the room felt thick and suffocating. I covered my ears, wanting to shut out his voice, but Garett continued ruthlessly. “So, I put something in your water bottle to teach you a lesson.” My mind went entirely blank. Six years of agonizing pain. Five years of sleepless nights on rainy days, listening to the rain as my ruined leg throbbed. All because Bianca had cried for an afternoon. My body shook as I stared at him. “Garett, you destroyed my career, you ruined my leg, just because she cried?” “You’ve had enough glory in your life, Brooke. If you weren’t so stubborn…” He sighed, his tone shifting. “It was an accident. I wanted you to lose, not to get hurt.” An accident. It was always an accident. I looked at his handsome, indifferent face, my mind drifting back to the day we had stood beneath the mountain cliffs. I had clutched his sleeve, asking if he loved me, and he had met my question with a long, heavy silence. I had waited years for an answer, and now, in his betrayal, I finally had it. I looked away, my voice steady and resolute. “Garett, I want a divorce.” “And I will not be donating my kidney to Jack.” Bianca’s face drained of color. “Brooke! How could you eavesdrop on our conversation?!” In the next instant, she dropped to her knees by my bed, her eyes swimming with tears. “I beg of you, Jack is the child you raised!” “Why should I give my kidney to some bastard child that isn’t even mine?” A sharp slap echoed through the room. My head snapped to the side, the taste of copper filling my mouth. Garett’s eyes blazed with fury. “You are wicked, Brooke.” “Jack has called you ‘Mom’ for five years. He is my son, and you speak of him like this? You don’t deserve to be a mother.” Bianca sobbed, her shoulders shaking. “It’s my fault. I wanted Jack to have a proper family, so I arranged the swap. But Jack is innocent. He didn’t choose this.” As her hand brushed against my knee, the hospital anesthetic began to wear off. A wave of excruciating pain surged through my body, radiating from my knee, my back, and my hands. My balance wavered, and I fell forward, crashing down on top of Bianca. She let out a piercing scream. Garett grabbed my shoulder, dragging me off her and throwing me aside with violent force. My back slammed against the metal bedframe, and my vision went black from the impact. “You’ve lost your mind, Brooke!” Garett yelled. Bianca cowered on the floor, shaking her head as she whimpered, “The pendant… the pendant broke…” Garett looked at me, his eyes cold. “Get in here!” he roared toward the corridor. “Tie this lunatic down!” A heavy sedative was pushed into my IV line, and my consciousness slowly slipped into the dark. When I finally woke, the room was bathed in the pale, cold glow of the moonlight. I tried to sit up, only to find my wrists secured to the bedframe with thick restraints. Footsteps approached, and a heavy-set man carrying a camera slipped into the room. My chest rose and fell rapidly as I stared at him. “What do you think you’re doing? Get out!” He offered a vile grin, locking the door behind him and setting up his camera on a tripod. I struggled against the straps, the rough material cutting into my wrists until blood began to bead on my skin. He unbuckled his belt, taking a slow, heavy step toward the bed. “Help! Someone help me!” “Garett! Garett!” The name escaped my lips before I could stop it. The memories of our past came rushing back, overriding my logic. Years ago, during a late autumn climb, I had fallen into a deep ravine. I had screamed for help until my throat was raw, believing I would die in the wilderness. Just as my consciousness was fading, I heard footsteps. Garett, carrying his heavy pack, had knelt at the edge of the ravine, his silhouette framed against the setting sun. His voice had been clear and reassuring: “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.” He had spent hours pulling me out, carrying me down the mountain on his back in the pitch black. It was that memory that had taken root in my heart, a bond I had never been able to break. But now… The man leaned over the bed, his hands moving over my waist. “Well, Bianca paid a good price for this. You’ve got a nice figure, lady.” “Is it Bianca?” I gasped, my voice hoarse. “How much did she pay you? I’ll double it. Just let me go.” He slapped me hard across the face. “Shut up.” He gestured toward the wall behind the bed. “Listen to that. Your husband and Bianca are pretty occupied next door. They don’t have time for a crazy woman like you.” Through the thin drywall, a muffled rustling sound drifted into the room. “Garett…” Bianca’s voice murmured. “I think Brooke is calling out…” After a brief pause, Garett’s low, breathless voice responded, “It’s fine. She’s probably just woke up from the sedative. Focus on me, Bianca.” Tears slipped down my swollen cheeks, mixing with the blood on my wrists. No one was coming. The man tore at my shirt, his eyes locking onto the faded C-section scar on my abdomen. “A damaged good. No wonder your husband threw you away.” As he leaned down, I gathered the last of my strength. I lunged forward, sinking my teeth deep into his ear. He let out a blood-curdling shriek, his fists raining down on my head and shoulders. I didn’t let go until the taste of blood filled my mouth, a wild, desperate laugh escaping my throat. “You crazy bitch!” he screamed, clutching his bleeding ear. He wrapped his thick fingers around my neck, squeezing tight. The ceiling lights began to spin, looking like the safety ropes suspended above the climbing wall. I thought of the child they had stolen from me. Did she look like me? Did she have my eyes, my laugh? Did she curl up when she slept? Had she ever called out for her mother? I wanted to live. I wanted to see my daughter. I couldn’t die here. Suddenly, the door was kicked open, and a nurse rushed in, screaming at the man. “What do you think you’re doing?! I’ve already called security and the police!” Terrified, the man grabbed his camera and fled through the open door. The nurse rushed to my side, quickly untying the restraints and helping me adjust my clothes. I looked at her, my throat raw as I whispered, “Thank you… thank you…” She offered a gentle smile, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I know who you are, Brooke. Back in college, I watched every single one of your climbing matches.” “You were so full of life, just like your name. Whatever is happening here, whoever is trying to hurt you… you need to run. Now.” I thanked her, clutching my phone with trembling fingers as I staggered out of the hospital into the freezing night. Suddenly, the screen lit up with a message from an unknown number: I know where your daughter is. As the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, I ignored the sharp pain in my spine, following the coordinates provided in the text. I arrived at a massive, elegant estate. Another message arrived: The security code is your birthday. I entered the numbers, the heavy lock clicking open, and I rushed inside. The main foyer was vast, a grand crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. In the center of the room, Jack was sitting astride a little girl, holding her head down against the marble floor as he shouted, “Heeyah! Faster, pony!” The little girl lay motionless, her cheek pressed against the cold stone. I ran forward, pushing Jack aside, and gathered the little girl into my arms. I wiped the tears from her pale face, cradling her close. This was my daughter. She hadn’t disappeared. She had been hidden here all along. My phone buzzed: I’m sorry. Bianca’s due date was a few hours after yours. To prevent you from realizing the swap, she arranged to have your daughter deprived of oxygen during delivery. She was born with severe cognitive damage. A wave of grief washed over me, tears streaming down my face. I held my daughter tighter, ignoring the rest of the text. I lifted her in my arms and turned toward the door. “Mom! Mom, where are you going?!” Jack cried, slipping on the slick marble as he fell and began to weep. Alerted by the house staff, Garett and Bianca rushed through the front doors, standing side by side like a devoted couple. “Brooke, you lunatic! How dare you push Jack!” Bianca screamed. Her gaze fell upon the silent girl in my arms, a cruel, mocking smile touching her lips. “And look at you, running off with a dummy.” “She is not a dummy! She is my daughter!” Garett’s expression tightened as he stared at me, his jaw clenching. He waved his hand toward the door. Two large security guards stepped into the foyer. I turned to run, but another guard blocked the hallway, grabbing my arms. I struggled wildly, my daughter letting out a frightened, soft whimper. “Don’t touch her!” I screamed. They pried my fingers apart one by one, taking my daughter from my arms. “Brooke,” Garett said, his voice cold and flat. “Once you donate your kidney, I’ll let you see her.” “Garett, she is your daughter too!” I wept. He didn’t answer, turning his back as the guards carried my daughter away. She leaned over the guard’s shoulder, a thin line of saliva slipping from her lips. She had never even called me Mom. Before they wheeled me into the operating room, Garett leaned down and covered my eyes with a silk handkerchief, tying a neat climber’s knot at the back of my head. In the darkness, his voice was close, his breath warm against my cheek. “Brooke, be good and do the surgery. Once it’s over, I’ll explain everything to you. We’ll start over, and I will love you just like I promised at the cathedral.”

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1 I was born a sloth. My cognitive gears turn at a glacial pace. Everything takes a beat longer to register, and my typing speed is always half a step behind the rest of the world. When I graduated from college, people at my first internship mocked me, calling me brain-damaged. My parents were so heartbroken and furious they nearly bought out and closed down the firm just to fire my tormentors. To shield me from the harsh realities of the corporate world, my older brother, Gavin, founded a boutique venture capital firm. Here, the entire staff operated at 0.5x speed, aligning their rhythm perfectly with mine. That was until last month, when a highly accomplished intern joined our department. Watching me take half an hour to draft a single email response, she tapped her fingers impatiently on my desk. “Maisie, with a brain as slow as yours, you really should focus on running errands and fetching coffee,” she said, her voice dripping with condescension. “The corporate world doesn’t harbor freeloaders. Otherwise, why would anyone keep a useless slowpoke around?” I clutched my water glass, my slow brain struggling to find a comeback. She had no idea that during campus recruitment, she was about to be rejected for failing her basic financial licensing exam. It was only because I saw her crying in the hallway that I begged my brother to give her a chance, casting the deciding vote that got her hired. If Gavin heard her say those words, she wouldn’t just lose her chance at a permanent position; she would be entirely blacklisted from the city’s financial district. … By the time my mouth finally opened to speak, Sasha’s thin stiletto heel had already ground into the papers I had dropped on the floor. A stark, black shoe print smeared across the core due diligence data I had spent the last two weeks painstakingly calculating. I stared down at the ruined pages, numb. A dull ache bloomed in my chest, though the crushing feeling of suffocation took a delayed ten seconds to fully register. This week, Gavin had taken the senior management team and core employees abroad for a closed-door summit, leaving the office completely in the hands of the new interns. Sasha, leveraging her Ivy League degree, had immediately set herself up as the self-appointed queen of the department. A heavy plastic bag filled with shredded paper waste was suddenly slammed onto my desk. Fine paper dust billowed into the air, settling over my keyboard and my hair. “Since your brain works at a snail’s pace, do something that doesn’t require one,” Sasha said, looking down her nose at me. “If you don’t piece this entire bag back together by tonight, don’t even think about leaving.” I blinked slowly, looking at the mess covering my workspace. At lunchtime, eager to cement her authority, Sasha announced loudly to the room: “Thanks for the hard work, everyone! Gourmet high tea from the Ritz-Carlton is on me!” “Sasha, you’re the best! We’re definitely going to rely on you once we get hired full-time!” The other interns crowded around her, offering shameless flattery. Sasha raised her voice, throwing a malicious glance toward my quiet corner. “Oh, my bad. I didn’t order anything for Maisie. After all, feeding a useless slowpoke is just a waste of company resources. Her sluggish digestive system probably wouldn’t even process high tea until tomorrow!” The office erupted into a chorus of unprompted, mocking laughter. Determined to secure their permanent positions, the other interns quickly fell into line, eager to show Sasha their loyalty by targeting me. Dustin, an intern with bleached blond hair, walked past my desk and spat his chewing gum right at my feet. Another intern, Kayla, deliberately bumped into the corner of my desk as she walked by. My water glass tipped over, sending a wave of warm water rushing across the neatly arranged paper fragments I had spent hours piecing together. The ink dissolved instantly, turning my hard work into a soggy, illegible gray paste. “Oh, my bad,” Kayla giggled, covering her mouth as she scurried back to Sasha’s side. “Maybe you shouldn’t leave your trash lying around.” I stared at the puddle on my desk, my hands hovering in the air, trembling uncontrollably. Tears welled in my eyes, but my throat was so tight I couldn’t squeeze out a single word of protest. I could only pull out a tissue, trying in vain to dab the water away. Sasha walked over, her heels clicking against the floor. Instead of stopping the harassment, she pointed a finger at my face. “Maisie, look at this disgusting mess you’ve made. You’re single-handedly dragging down the aesthetic of this entire firm.” “Go scrub the restrooms. Every single one of them. If there is a single speck of dirt left by tomorrow morning, don’t bother coming back.” I slowly lifted my head, my face flushed as I shook my head. “I… my core work… isn’t finished…” Sasha slapped my hand away and grabbed my collar, pulling it tight. The fabric choked my throat, making my vision go blurry. “Do what you’re told,” she hissed. “One more word, and I’ll make sure we all give you a zero on the peer reviews. You’ll be packed up and gone by noon.” Frightened by the sheer malice in her eyes, I shrank back. Under the watchful, mocking gazes of a dozen colleagues, my body moved stiffly as I picked up the mop and walked slowly toward the restrooms. Behind me, Sasha raised her phone, laughing loudly as she recorded my retreating back. “Hey, followers! Check this out: a real-life look at the brain-dead janitor working at the city’s top venture capital firm!” The sharp click of the camera shutter and the echoes of their laughter pierced through my sluggish senses. 2 “The way she mops is so stiff, like her brain can’t even tell her arms what to do. It’s hilarious.” The video Sasha posted in the group chat quickly sparked a flurry of messages. Her caption was incredibly cruel, and my phone in my pocket vibrated constantly against my leg with incoming notifications. Dustin sent a mocking meme, and Kayla sent a voice note: “This is so embarrassing. If a client came to visit and saw a janitor like her, they’d think our firm was about to go bankrupt.” Because of my slow movements, I had to work straight through dinner to finish cleaning. My low blood sugar made my head spin, and the heavy scent of disinfectant in the restroom made it hard to breathe. I had to lean against the tiled wall for five minutes just to gather enough strength to walk. When I finally dragged my feet back to my desk, the scene before me made me freeze. The investment draft I had spent a month carefully organizing was spread out across the table. Sasha was sitting in my chair, eating a bowl of greasy, spicy takeout noodles. Red chili oil had dripped onto my model data, and my meticulous draft was being used as a grease mat under her food. The model was something I had built line by line, staying up late to verify every single decimal point against the screen. A hot tear spilled over my cheek, landing on the back of my hand. “Why… did you… ruin my papers?” I asked, my voice trembling. Sasha sucked in a noodle, tossing her wooden chopsticks onto the ruined documents. “What are you crying for? Trying to ruin my appetite?” She pulled out a napkin to wipe her mouth, rolling her eyes. “With a rusty brain like yours, could you actually write anything of value?” “It’s just a stack of scrap paper. Using it to protect this solid mahogany desk is doing it a favor.” My body shook with anger. I reached out to pull the document from beneath the greasy container, but before my fingers could touch the paper, Sasha kicked the trash can beside my desk. With a loud crash, discarded paper and fruit peels scattered across the floor, blocking my feet. “Maisie, not only are you a slob, but you’re also a literal hoarder,” she sneered, pointing at my face. “Keeping absolute garbage like it’s some kind of treasure. You smell like poverty.” The surrounding interns gathered around, chiming in. “Seriously, Maisie, your workspace is a total eyesore. It’s ruining the high-end vibe of the office.” “I say we move her desk to the janitor’s closet in the hallway,” Dustin suggested with a smirk. “She can sit with the mops and brooms. It suits her.” Suddenly, my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a video call request from my brother, who was still abroad. Seeing his name on the screen, I hesitated. I knew exactly what Gavin was capable of. If he found out how I was being treated, this venture capital firm would vanish overnight, and the people standing in front of me would find their careers utterly destroyed. As I stared at the screen, Sasha stepped forward and snatched the phone from my hand, abruptly declining the call. She stared at the screen with deep suspicion, assuming I was trying to complain to management. “Oh, look at you. Trying to play the victim and tattle on us?” “Give… it… back…” I reached out, but my movements were too slow, and my hand swiped through empty air. Sasha held the phone, her gaze locking onto the device. It was a custom, zero-radiation satellite phone Gavin had commissioned from a research lab specifically for me. On the back, a single, brilliant pink diamond was flush against the casing. A glint of greed flashed in Sasha’s eyes. “Ooh, a pink diamond?” She scraped her fingernail against the stone. “Did you buy this cheap piece of glass at some street vendor for ten bucks?” 3 Sasha turned the custom phone over in her hands. Although she didn’t recognize the brand, she could tell the craftsmanship of the pink diamond was extraordinary. It was a real diamond. She clenched her jaw. How could a useless freak like me own something so valuable? She casually slipped my phone into her designer bag. “No personal phones during work hours. I’m confiscating this.” “I’ll hand it over to management when they get back from their trip, along with a formal report of your misconduct.” Tears began to spill from my eyes again. That phone contained a custom voice assistant Gavin had built for me. Without it, I couldn’t remember which bus to take or how to safely navigate the busy crosswalks on my way home. It was my only link to the outside world. “Please… give it back…” I reached out, grasping at the strap of her bag. “My brother… gave that to me…” Sasha slapped my hand away. A sharp, stinging pain radiated up my arm, and my skin immediately flushed a bright red. She looked at me, her brow furrowing with disgust. “Maisie, a slow-witted parasite like you only got into a top-tier firm like this because your parents begged and pleaded for a favor. You’re a drain on society, a complete hazard in the workplace!” She stepped closer, her sharp nail almost touching my nose. “Without your parents sheltering you, you wouldn’t even survive begging on the streets!” I covered my ears, my pale face draining of what little color it had left. Memories of my childhood diagnosis and the cruel whispers of classmates flashed through my mind, making my heart flutter erratically. I struggled to draw a breath. “No…” I whimpered, tears slipping through my fingers. “My brother said… if I take my time… I can still shine…” Sasha laughed, her voice sharp and mocking. “Shine? That’s just a lie they tell toddlers to keep them quiet!” She shoved my forehead with her finger, forcing me to stumble back a few steps. “Who do you think you are? A mute idiot who can’t even speak a full sentence. Your very existence is a waste of resources.” She turned back to the crowd of interns, raising her chin proudly. “Look at me. I come from an ordinary family, but in college, I received an anonymous, full-ride sponsorship from the city’s most powerful financial mogul. Even my placement at this firm was personally arranged by him.” Her eyes filled with arrogance. “Once I am hired full-time, I will be second-in-command here. You, Maisie, aren’t even worthy of wiping the dust off my shoes.” I froze, my slow brain catching a familiar thread of information. A year ago, Gavin had mentioned sponsoring a brilliant but underprivileged student who had failed her basic licensing exams and was about to have her contract terminated by HR. I had seen her crying in her file photo and had begged Gavin to make an exception for her. The ungrateful student was Sasha. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I stared at her. “My brother… would never like you. If he knew… the truth… he would throw you out.” The words seemed to strike a nerve, and Sasha’s face twisted with rage. “Your brother? What are you babbling about, you freak?!” She grabbed my collar, raising her hand to strike me, but stopped herself when she noticed the other interns watching. She leaned in close, her voice a lethal whisper. “The Venture Capital Gala is in three days, and the big boss will be there in person. I’ll make sure you watch me stand right by his side.” She shoved me hard, sending me crashing to the floor. “And the very first thing I do when I take power will be to crush you under my heel and throw you out of this company!” 4 Four days later, the Venture Capital Gala. I huddled in a quiet corner of the grand ballroom, finding it difficult to even breathe. Having my custom phone stolen for three days meant I had lost my voice assistant. I had gotten lost multiple times, missed meals, and had almost been hit by a delivery truck on my way home. My congenital heart condition was flaring up, pushed to its absolute limit. I wanted to cross the ballroom to find my parents and brother, who had just landed and were arriving at the venue. I leaned against the wall, dragging myself forward step by painful step. But as I rounded a corner into a quiet hallway, Sasha, dressed in a lavish gown, blocked my path. She was draped in rented jewelry, her eyes scanning the crowd for the elusive billionaire. When she saw my pale, disheveled state, her face contorted with disgust. “Oh, look. The freak is here to ruin the view.” She stepped forward, her sharp heel deliberately pinning the hem of my skirt to the floor. A sudden, sharp pain flared in my chest. I tried to pull away, but she lunged, tripping me with a harsh sweep of her leg. I lost my balance and crashed heavily onto the marble floor. The impact echoed in the quiet hallway. My knee split open against the stone, blood pooling onto the white fabric of my dress. The sharp pain made my vision go black. The interns standing behind her burst into sneering laughter. “If I were born a broken piece of trash like you, I would have ended my own life long ago,” Sasha said, looking down at me as she ground her heel against my bleeding hand. “Living like a parasite off your parents, and now you show up here trying to look for a handout? Disgusting.” The pain drained the last of my strength. My heart contracted violently, and the suffocating lack of oxygen squeezed my throat. I curled onto the floor, my body shaking uncontrollably as I reached out a hand, silently begging for help. “Stop playing dead!” Sasha snapped, kicking my hand away. “If you get blood on my couture dress, you won’t live long enough to pay for it!” As the darkness closed in, I felt myself slipping away. Suddenly, a terrified scream shattered the quiet of the hallway. “Oh my god! Miss Maisie! Miss Maisie!!!” The Executive Vice President of the firm came running around the corner, his face completely pale with horror. Before anyone could speak, the double doors at the end of the hall were thrown open with a violent crash. A group of people rushed in, their faces tight with panic. Sasha froze. She stared at the man leading the group, her heart leaping with excitement. It was the mysterious billionaire she had dreamed of meeting. But in the next second, the triumph on her face shattered. Through her widening eyes, she watched as the most powerful man in the city pushed past the crowd, dropped to his knees, and gathered my limp, bleeding body into his arms.

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1 At the annual medical gala, Austin, a prominent celebrity surgeon, was asked a poignant question about his years of saving lives: was there anyone he regretted failing to save? He shook his head, then slowly nodded. “None on the operating table,” he said, his voice dropping. “But indirectly? I took a life.” The crowd fell silent as he continued, “Five years ago, my college roommate got a full-ride scholarship to study in London. He asked me to look after his girlfriend while he was away. The problem was, the moment I saw her, I fell helplessly in love.” “She rejected me at every turn. In a fit of jealousy, I Photoshopped a highly intimate picture of her and me. I showed it to him, lying through my teeth that she had slept with me for my money.” A collective gasp rippled through the auditorium. Someone in the crowd called out, “What happened next?” Austin’s eyes welled with tears. “He believed me. He broke up with her right then and there. She boarded the very next flight to go find him and explain. That plane crashed into the ocean. She died.” The day that interview clip went viral on social media, the roommate he spoke of, Jude, was boarding a flight with his fiancée, Peyton. They were flying home to get married. … In the quiet cabin of the flight back home, Jude gently pulled a wool blanket over Peyton’s legs. She smiled, offering a playful, slightly teasing pout. “So attentive, babe. Did you use to tuck your ex in on flights like this too?” Jude caught her nose in a brief, affectionate pinch, his expression softening with amusement. “Never.” “Back when I was with her, we were so broke we had to split a single five-dollar takeout box. We had to watch the timer on rental bikes just to save a buck. Flying was a luxury we couldn’t even dream of.” His smile faded, replaced by a cold, bitter edge. “Maybe if I’d had the money to buy her a plane ticket back then, she wouldn’t have sold me out.” Jude’s resentment ran deep, deeper even than mine, and I was the ghost who had been trailing silently behind him for five long years. He had every right to feel that way. His own family had been torn apart when his father walked out after an affair. Cheating was the one thing Jude loathed above all else. Worse still, when Jude had received that graphic, intimate photo of me, he had been in the middle of a crucial university laboratory experiment. The sudden shock had shattered his focus. He had dropped a highly reactive chemical flask, triggering an explosion and fire that swept through the lab. A falling ceiling beam had crushed his leg, leaving him with a permanent limp and a million-dollar debt to the school. If Peyton, his junior at the university, hadn’t stayed by his side through his long rehabilitation and pulled him out of that dark abyss, Jude’s life would have been entirely ruined. Ruined by that photo. Ruined by me. His hatred was entirely justified. I didn’t blame him. Perhaps remembering those grim days, Peyton’s eyes grew misty with sympathy. “That gold-digging Ruby got exactly what she deserved. Karma always finds people like her.” Jude offered a quiet, reassuring smile, intertwining his fingers with hers. “Forget it. Karma or not, it’s in the past. We go back a long way, after all. We should at least invite her to our wedding.” Peyton blinked in surprise, then nodded quickly. “Absolutely, we have to! When she sees that you’re wealthier now than the rich kid who stole her away, she’ll be green with regret.” “Will she?” Jude murmured, his voice barely audible. The flight attendant’s voice over the intercom drowned out whatever else he said, but for the rest of the journey, Jude seemed lighter, almost happy. I knew what he was thinking. He wanted to see me drown in regret. Back then, when he first woke up in the hospital after the fire, the very first thing he did was dial my number over and over, sending text after text to a phone that was already dead. First, he demanded an explanation. Then, his pride crumbled. He text me saying that if I came back, he would forgive the betrayal and pretend none of it ever happened. He begged me to give him time, promising he would eventually make more money than Austin ever could. He waited from dawn until dusk, staring at a screen that never lit up. When Jude and Peyton finally landed, the award ceremony video had already been trending online for twenty-four hours. Around the baggage claim, travelers were quietly debating the ethics of the scandal. “I can’t believe Dr. Austin was such a scumbag in college. That’s honestly sick.” “It was probably just a stupid joke. He didn’t mean for anyone to actually die.” “Honestly, the boyfriend is the real villain here. He dumped her over a single rumor. He probably met someone else in London and used Austin’s lie as an easy exit.” Hearing Austin’s name floating through the crowded terminal, Jude froze. Peyton looked at him, concerned. “Jude? What’s wrong?” A look of pure disgust crossed Jude’s face, his knuckles turning white against the handle of his suitcase. “Nothing. Just heard a piece of trash’s name. It makes me sick.” He was right. Austin was trash. The very day Jude had left for London, Austin had cornered me to confess his feelings. When I rejected him, he started showering me with expensive gifts. I hadn’t dared to tell Jude because I didn’t want him to worry while he was half a world away, so I simply did my best to avoid Austin entirely. I never expected my silence to drive Austin to such malice. Staggering under the weight of those memories, I shook my head to clear the thoughts. By the time I focused again, I was floating behind Jude and Peyton as they entered their new apartment. Jude had always been an incredibly attentive partner. When we were together, even on our cheap weekend trips, he would meticulously plan every detail to give me the best experience possible on a shoestring budget. He was no different with Peyton. Before returning from London, he had hired a top-tier design team to renovate their new home, tailoring every corner to Peyton’s taste. Soft beige walls, warm chestnut floors. But when Peyton noticed the sheer pink curtains fluttering gently in the breeze, she raised an eyebrow with a playful grin. “Jude, you actually made a mistake! Since when do I like pink?” Jude frowned, instinctively defending himself. “But you told me you wanted pink curtains…” He cut himself off, his face suddenly draining of color. He gently pushed Peyton back, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Sorry. I got it wrong. I’ll have them replaced immediately.” It was as if the color itself disgusted him. Unable to wait for a decorator, Jude ripped the curtains from the rod with sudden, violent force and stuffed them into the trash chute in the hallway. I drifted out after him, staring silently at the empty chute. Ghosts have no tears, yet my eyes burned with a dry, heavy ache. Years ago, when Jude and I were crammed into a windowless, five-hundred-square-foot basement studio, I used to curl up against his chest and whisper: “Jude, when we make it, we’re going to buy a place with massive windows, and we’ll hang pink curtains to let the sunlight through.” He had remembered. He bought the apartment with the beautiful windows, but because the girl beside him had changed, the pink curtains had to go. I drifted back into the living room just as the two of them were grabbing their coats to head out. “Jude, do you think Ruby will show up at the college reunion tonight?” Peyton asked. My heart tightened. After leaving the country, Jude had cut all ties with our old classmates. He had no idea I was dead. But going to this reunion meant he would find out the truth. Would he be sad? Jude’s voice broke through my thoughts, cold and indifferent. “If she shows up, she shows up. It’s the perfect chance to hand her our wedding invitation.” His face remained expressionless, but the pinky finger on his left hand was trembling. He was lying. Back in college, when he secretly sold blood to buy me a winter coat and lied about winning a student grant, his pinky had trembled exactly like this. He cared. He was terrified of seeing me, or perhaps, of not seeing me. On the drive to the venue, Jude was unusually silent. No matter how excitedly Peyton talked about showing off their relationship to me and Austin, Jude only offered distant, polite nods. His grip on the steering wheel grew tighter with every block. At every red light, he checked the class group chat on his phone. As notifications rolled in from people arriving at the restaurant, his jaw clenched. In his distraction, his thumb brushed against my old, inactive profile picture. For a second, both Jude and I seemed to hold our breath. “Jude, the light is green,” Peyton reminded him. Jude jolted, tossing the phone into the cup holder as if it had burned him. “Right.” They arrived at the restaurant. The moment Jude parked, several of our old classmates waiting outside walked over to greet them. “Jude! Man, it’s been ages.” “Hey, I saw you active in the group chat earlier, tapping Ruby’s icon. You’ve been off the grid for so long, do you seriously not know what happened to her…” “It was an accident,” Jude interrupted, his tone freezing the conversation. He reached over to open the passenger door. “Everyone, this is my fiancée, Peyton.” The classmates exchanged uneasy glances, quickly shifting to polite small talk. Strangely, even as the group began walking into the restaurant, Jude remained standing by his car, his eyes darting toward the street entrance. “Jude, who are you looking for?” one of them asked. I wondered too. Everyone from our old class was here, except for me and Austin. Was he waiting for Austin? “No one,” Jude snapped, turning on his heel and walking briskly toward the entrance. Peyton blinked in confusion, quickly scrambling to catch up. Though Jude had cut everyone off years ago, his academic success abroad was well-known. During dinner, classmates kept rising to toast him. Jude accepted every drink offered, and it didn’t take long for the alcohol to flush his cheeks. Peyton, looking worried, finally placed her hand over his glass. “Jude, that’s enough drinking…” Marcus, our old class president, was already tipsy. He laughed and raised his glass. “Come on, Peyton, play nice. When Ruby was with Jude, she never breathed down his neck about having a few drinks.” The private dining room went dead silent. Marcus instantly regretted his words, biting his lip. Jude, however, let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Of course Ruby wouldn’t care. She never loved me anyway.” A sharp ache pierced through my chest, cold and biting. I could accept his anger. I could accept his hatred. But I could not bear him denying the love I had given him. “Jude, that’s out of line!” The voice belonged to Becca, my college roommate and closest friend. Her eyes were red as she looked at Jude, then glanced at Peyton, biting back her words. “She’s not even…” “She’s not here, so I’m not allowed to talk?” Jude sneered, looking around the table. “If she didn’t have a guilty conscience, why is every single person in this room here tonight except for her and Austin?” Peyton added coldly, “People with guilty consciences usually stay hidden.” “Guilty conscience?” Becca slammed her glass onto the table, standing up as tears spilled over her cheeks. “Jude, Ruby has been dead for five years!” Jude bolted upright, knocking his heavy chair backward with a loud, scraping crash. “What did you say?” Becca, fueled by alcohol and years of suppressed anger, screamed back at him, “Who are you to judge her? If she wasn’t so desperate to fly out and explain things to you, she would have never boarded that plane! She would still be alive!” Jude stared at her, his entire body starting to tremble. “Explain what?” Marcus reached out, gently pulling Becca back into her seat. “Jude… Ruby never cheated on you. That photo Austin had was fake. It was Photoshopped.” Hearing this, the tension in Jude’s shoulders suddenly broke, and he let out a bitter, mocking laugh. “Right. Keep making up stories.” He looked at Becca’s tear-stained face with utter disdain. “I get that you guys were close, but fabricating a lie like this just to defend her? It’s pathetic.” “She was blown to pieces for you, and you think I’m lying?” Becca cried. “Shut up!” Jude roared, slamming his fist onto the table. “Tell Ruby she doesn’t need to play dead. I’m not going to sue her or Austin. If she’s really that scared of me, all she has to do is show up, apologize to my face, and we’ll call it even.” Becca laughed, a sound hollow and hysterical. “You want a corpse to apologize to you, Jude?” “Do you take me for a fool?” Jude’s eyes flared with savage anger. “I know a real photo when I see one.” Peyton chimed in, her voice tight. “When that picture was sent, I helped Jude run a digital analysis myself. There was absolutely no trace of editing.” A shadow of pain crossed Jude’s eyes, but he forced his jaw to set. “Tell Ruby that if she doesn’t come here and apologize to me tonight, I’m not leaving this room.” Silence fell over the table. Becca wiped her face, a cold, bitter smile forming on her lips. “An apology? Fine, Jude. Watch this, and tell me who needs to apologize.” Peyton’s face instantly lost all color. Before she could stop her, Becca pressed play on her phone and turned the screen toward Jude. It was the video of Austin’s interview. “Five years ago, my roommate went abroad… I fell helplessly in love with his girlfriend… I Photoshopped an intimate picture… She died in a plane crash on her way to explain…”

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I am the definition of a quiet wallflower, yet my best friend, Serena, is the ultimate player. I always thought she was too clever to ever get caught, but today, her luck finally ran out. She burst into my apartment, her face pale with panic. “I’m ruined, Paige!” “I confessed to three different guys last night, and all three of them said yes! What am I supposed to do?” As she paced the floor in a frenzy, her eyes suddenly lit up. “Hey, how about I give one of them to you?” I thought she was joking, so I casually took the phone from her hand. But the very next second, my breath caught in my throat. One of the contact cards displaying a successful confession belonged to Liam, my high school classmate whom I had secretly loved for five long years. I thought I had buried those feelings years ago. Yet, the moment I saw his face on her screen, my heart skipped a beat. After a long silence, I looked up, keeping my voice as flat and casual as possible. “Sure.” “Can you give this one to me?” 1 Serena went quiet for a few seconds. She shot me a thoroughly surprised look. “Wow, I didn’t expect you to agree so quickly.” I scrolled through his profile, pretending to be indifferent. “He’s handsome. Chatting with him isn’t exactly a chore.” Serena didn’t think much of it, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “True.” A quiet, bitter ache settled in my chest. Serena was a breathtaking beauty. Whenever we traveled to different cities, street photographers would inevitably stop her, asking to take her picture. She would flash them a radiant smile. “Is this free, or are you going to charge me?” The photographers would laugh, their eyes filled with admiration for this stunning stranger. “For you? Absolutely free.” Meanwhile, I would stand awkwardly to the side, holding her coat and waiting for her to finish. Life was rarely fair. I was always the one left in the shadow. I wasn’t ugly, but I was entirely ordinary. Because of that, I hadn’t dated once throughout my four years of college. I never initiated anything, and naturally, no one ever approached me. So, being allowed to step into Serena’s shoes and talk to Liam felt like winning the lottery. It was a tiny, stolen piece of luck. Serena explained that she and Liam had met through an online game. I was stunned to learn that the straight-A student who used to top our class ranking was involved in something as casual as online dating. “He’s actually very generous,” Serena said, tilting her head. “He’s probably quite wealthy, too. He bought me several thousand dollars’ worth of in-game skins.” Then, as if remembering something amusing, she giggled. “But my other guys are much wealthier, so… oops!” I remained silent, not knowing what to say. “Besides, the others are guys I know in real life. He’s the only one I met on the internet.” Serena paused, looking at me seriously. “So, if you meet him in person and he turns out to be a catfish, don’t blame me.” I jumped out of my chair in a panic. “What?” I gasped. “We have to meet in person?” 2 Serena laughed at my dramatic reaction. “Of course you do. What’s the point of online dating if you never meet in real life?” “But… how can I go?” My mind was spinning. “What am I supposed to say?” “Just tell him you’re Serena.” “But I’m not you!” Serena rolled her eyes, flopping onto my beanbag chair with the lazy grace of a cat. “He doesn’t know what I look like, and he’s never met you. The moment you show up, you are Serena.” She spoke with complete nonchalance, as if pretending to be someone else to go on a date was the most natural thing in the world. “What if he asks about… my life? I don’t know anything about what you told him.” “That’s why we’re having a crash course right now.” Serena pulled out her phone and began listing the various details of the persona she had built for Liam. But I didn’t hear a single word. My gaze was entirely fixed on the black profile picture on her screen. Liam. It was only after high school graduation that I had gathered the courage to add him on social media. But his profile had always been set to private, showing only three days of history, which consisted of nothing but generic landscape photos. I had assumed we would remain strangers for the rest of our lives. Yet now, his chat box was open right in front of me. Can we meet tomorrow at seven in the evening? Attached was a small sticker of a puppy scratching its head. It was hard to reconcile this cute, sincere gesture with the brilliant student who used to deliver school speeches with a perfectly deadpan expression. The contrast was incredibly endearing. “…so the key is to keep him hooked. Give him just enough attention to make him obsessed, and then pull back. Keep him wanting more.” Serena suddenly leaned in, catching me staring blankly at the screen. She furrowed her brow. “Are you even listening to me, Paige?” Her voice snapped me back to reality. “Yes, I am.” She crossed her arms, demanding I repeat what she had just said. I remained silent. With a heavy sigh, she handed me her phone. “Forget it. Just read through the chat history from the very beginning. You have twenty-four hours before the date. My survival depends entirely on you, Paige.” She stood up to go start her skincare routine, leaving me alone with the phone. I stared at the screen for a long time. Tomorrow at seven. I was going to use another girl’s name to meet the boy I had loved in secret for five years. It was the cruelest joke fate had ever played on me. 3 I barely slept that night. I spent hours in front of the mirror, practicing Serena’s tone, her gestures, and her laughter. Before leaving the apartment the next evening, I changed into a sleek, emerald slip dress—a style Serena favored but I would never normally wear. Standing in front of the full-length mirror, I could barely recognize myself. Serena helped me curl my hair, nodding in approval. “Honestly, you actually look like me now.” Twenty minutes later, I arrived at the restaurant Liam had chosen, a quiet, upscale sushi bar in the city center. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open. The restaurant was relatively quiet, and I spotted him immediately. He was slightly leaner than he had been in high school, wearing a thin black sweater with the sleeves casually rolled up to his forearms. His sharp jawline and clean profile were exactly as I remembered, yet there was a new, mature edge to him. I paused at the entrance for a few seconds before forcing my feet to move. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. As I approached the table, he looked up. Our eyes met. My mind went completely blank. Every single opening line Serena had prepared for me vanished into thin air. Liam stood up and politely pulled out a chair for me. The gesture was simple and natural, a testament to his good manners, but it still sent a shiver through my veins. During my high school years, I had dreamed of this moment countless times—sitting across from him, sharing a meal, talking like a normal couple. But it had always been a fantasy. Now, it was real. But I was playing a part. “Hi,” Liam spoke first, his voice low and smooth. “I’m Liam.” “I’m Serena,” I replied, my voice trembling slightly. He looked at me for three long seconds. Those seconds felt like an eternity. Then, a faint, barely perceptible smile touched the corner of his lips. When the waiter handed us the menus, I blurted out, “No wasabi for me, please.” The moment the words left my mouth, I froze in horror. Serena absolutely loved spicy food and wasabi. I had seen a bag of wasabi-flavored chips on her desk just before I left. Hearing my request, Liam fell silent. 4 I scrambled to find a way to cover my mistake, but Liam simply nodded, his expression neutral. “Understood. I’ll make a note of that.” He didn’t ask any questions. I let out a quiet sigh of relief, though a strange, uneasy feeling lingered in the back of my mind. The rest of the dinner went much smoother than I anticipated. Liam was a man of few words, but he was incredibly attentive, ensuring the conversation never felt forced. He listened quietly, nodding occasionally with a soft smile. After that evening, Liam began inviting me out regularly. We had dinners, went for long walks, and visited art exhibitions on the weekends. Meanwhile, Serena seemed to lose all interest in him. She was far too busy managing her other relationships—spending Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays with her younger boyfriend, and Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays visiting her older benefactor at his corporate office. She was a master of time management. One evening, after we finished dinner, the sky was still painted with the pale colors of twilight. Liam mentioned a quiet park nearby and asked if I wanted to take a walk. I agreed. The late April breeze carried a gentle warmth, and the cherry blossoms along the path were in full bloom, scattering pink petals with every gust of wind. He walked on my left, matching his pace perfectly to mine. We talked about random things until he suddenly asked, “Which high school did you go to?” My heart seized. I quickly named a school on the other side of town. “St. Jude’s.” Liam paused in his tracks, then simply murmured, “Ah.” He didn’t press further. As we turned down a quiet, winding path, the sound of familiar laughter drifted through the air—a soft, sweet, melodic giggle. I instinctively raised my eyes, and my entire body went rigid. On a wooden bench just a few yards away sat Serena. She was draped over a young man’s lap, her arms wrapped around his neck as they kissed passionately. It was her younger boyfriend. Liam stopped walking. He had seen them too. My stomach twisted into a tight knot, but then I realized there was no reason to panic. To Liam, the woman on the bench was just a stranger. I was the “Serena” he was dating. He had no reason to care. Forcing a light, casual laugh, I murmured, “Kids these days are certainly adventurous.” I smiled, trying to ease the sudden tension in the air. But there was no response from the man beside me. I turned to look at him, preparing to say something else, when Liam spoke. His voice was incredibly low, cold, and sharp. “What does she have to do with you?” I froze, the sheer hostility in his tone catching me completely off guard. We walked the rest of the way in suffocating silence. It was only as we neared the exit of the park that his steps finally slowed. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice returning to its usual quiet warmth, as if his sudden outburst had been nothing but a figment of my imagination. “I lost my temper back there. That was uncalled for.” “It’s fine,” I whispered. After that day, my dates with Liam became even more frequent. I truly believed that I had successfully stepped into Serena’s shoes, that I was finally the one he was falling for. Until today. I had left work early, wanting to surprise Serena for her birthday, only to be met with a reality that showed me just how foolish I had been. 5 As I neared the restaurant, I spotted Liam standing directly in front of Serena. My blood ran cold. How did they meet? Why were they together? Before I could process the shock, Liam reached out, grabbing Serena’s wrist in a tight, desperate grip. I had never seen such a raw display of anguish on his usually composed face. His voice was hoarse, thick with emotion. “Would you rather send a complete stranger to meet me than face me yourself, Serena?” Serena looked as stunned as I was, remaining completely silent. “Who was the man carrying your shopping bags yesterday?” Liam pressed, his voice trembling. “And the one whose car you got into the day before? Serena, how many guys are you playing at once?” Serena bit her lip, refusing to meet his gaze. Liam let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh, as if he had expected this exact response. Yet, he couldn’t seem to let go. “Is it really that hard of a question?” He slowly released her wrist, taking a step back as if he had finally run out of strength. “Let me ask you something else then…” “Serena, did you ever love me? Even a little?” Serena swallowed hard, her face pale. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Stop lying, Serena.” Liam leaned back against the display counter behind him, his eyes completely hollow. And then, he uttered a sentence that made my heart stop. “What about Paige?” Serena flinched. “Why are you bringing her up?” Liam let out a heavy, tired sigh. “Did you really think sending one of my old high school classmates would be enough to get rid of me?” He shook his head, his voice flat and devoid of any warmth. “She is nothing but an irrelevant stranger to me. I could never love her.” “I only love you.” The late April wind suddenly felt like ice, making me tremble from head to toe. I wanted to laugh, but my throat was tight, choked with a sudden, suffocating grief. I tried to back away quietly, wanting to escape before they saw me, but my elbow caught a vintage porcelain vase on a nearby display stand. Crash— The sharp sound shattered the silence of the restaurant. Shards of porcelain scattered across the floor.

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