Category: English

My daughter Charlotte was five years old. She was born with a congenital heart and lung condition, and she had a deadly allergy to strawberries. One bite of anything made with strawberries would trigger full-body anaphylactic shock. She would suffocate and die. On her fifth birthday, I stood gripping a critical condition notice, my fingernails digging into the paper until the edges crumbled. A doctor pulled me into the ICU hallway, his voice cold as a winter frost. “Mrs. Jones, Charlotte has gone into anaphylactic shock. Her heart and lung failure has worsened. She won’t survive the day. The allergen was strawberry. Someone deliberately gave her food containing strawberries.” My mind went blank. A roar of white noise filled my head. For Charlotte’s sake, there had never been a single strawberry in our home. Not one berry, not one spoonful of jam, not one slice of strawberry cake. I checked every meal she ate every single day. There was no room for error. No matter how hard I thought, I couldn’t figure out how she had come into contact with that deadly fruit. The only way to save her was to find her father, Alexander. If he would just sign the consent form to donate his hematopoietic stem cells, Charlotte could live. I had loved Alexander for eight years. I had been married to him for five. I had stood by his side through bankruptcy and built everything with him until he became CEO of the Alexander Group. But the moment his first love, Sophie, came back into his life, he threw Charlotte and me away without looking back.

I ran out of the hospital like a woman possessed and took a cab straight to the Alexander Group headquarters. The security guards blocked me hard at the entrance, refusing to let me into the lobby. I didn’t hesitate. I dropped to my knees on the cold marble floor. I pressed my forehead against the stone and cried out, my voice already broken and hoarse. “Please , tell Alexander that my daughter is dying. He’s the only one who can save her!” Employees gathered around, pointing and murmuring. The whispers pricked like needles. I didn’t care. When your daughter’s life is on the line, dignity means nothing. The elevator chimed. Alexander walked out , tailored designer suit, sharp cold eyes, the kind of presence that warns people to stay back. Sophie was on his arm. She was holding a little boy named Leandro and smiling like she’d already won. She was the first love he had never stopped loving. Leandro was another man’s son that Alexander treated as his own. When he saw me kneeling on the floor, Alexander’s face tightened with something between irritation and disgust. “Jones, are you here to make a scene again? Don’t embarrass me in front of everyone.” I scrambled to my feet and lunged toward him. I grabbed his wrist and dug my nails into his skin. “Alexander, Charlotte has gone into shock. She’s dying. You’re the only one who can save her. Come to the hospital with me , please!” Sophie tugged softly at his arm, her eyes welling up, the picture of fragile innocence. “Alexander, Leandro turns five today. You promised you’d take him to the amusement park. Don’t break your promise.” “Charlotte just has an allergic reaction. Kids aren’t that delicate. Let the doctors handle it.” The triumph hidden in her eyes wasn’t hard to see at all. Alexander wrenched his arm free and shoved me. I hit the ground hard, scraping my knees until they bled. “Leandro’s birthday only comes once a year. Charlotte’s little issue is not my problem.” “Don’t bother me about Charlotte again.” Little issue? This was a lethal allergy that could kill her in minutes. That was his own daughter. I lay on the floor and watched him walk away with his arm around someone else. His back was a wall of finality. Eight years of love. Five years of marriage. And none of it could compete with one pout from his first love. My Charlotte was lying in the ICU, dying. And her father was celebrating another child’s birthday. I went back to the hospital and stayed planted outside the ICU, refusing to move an inch. At one in the morning, the resuscitation room doors swung open. The doctor’s face was drained of color. “We brought her back , for now. But she could go into shock again at any moment. If Alexander doesn’t come, there will be nothing more we can do!” I crouched in the corner and called him over and over. Instant hang-up. Switched off. No response on Instagram. His housekeeper told me he had taken Sophie to his private island and left strict instructions not to be disturbed. I waited outside the estate from the middle of the night until morning. My knees went numb. My head swam. All I got was Sophie’s Instagram update. Alexander was holding Leandro in his arms, cutting into a strawberry cake, his face soft with a warmth I hadn’t seen in years. The caption read: With you two, life is everything. His comment: I’ll be here for you both, always. My Sophie. My Leandro. A strawberry cake. Every drop of blood in my body turned to ice. He knew. He knew that one bite of strawberry could kill Charlotte. He wasn’t too busy. He simply had no desire to save her. He had never, in his heart, considered that little girl his daughter.

The doctor issued the third critical condition warning. “Twelve hours left. After that, there is nothing more we can do.” I pressed my face to the glass and looked at Charlotte. Her small face was pale as paper, her lips turning purple, her body curled up in the hospital bed like a wounded kitten. She was only five years old. She loved drawing. She loved hugging her stuffed bunny. Every single day she asked me when Daddy was going to come hold her. She had done nothing wrong. And yet she had to suffer all of this. I wiped my tears. When I lifted my eyes, they were cold. Alexander , if you won’t save her, I will crawl to your feet and die in front of you before I give up on my daughter. I hailed a cab and rushed toward the private island. At the dock, bodyguards cut me off. “Mr. Alexander’s orders. No one is allowed near.” I fell to my knees. “Please , I’m begging you. Let me see Alexander. My daughter is dying. He’s the only one who can save her!” I slammed my forehead against the ground until blood ran down my face. My voice was gone. The bodyguards exchanged uneasy looks. A yacht pulled up to the dock. Alexander stepped off. When he saw me, his expression darkened like a storm. “Jones. Are you done yet?” He strode over and grabbed me by the collar, the force of it crushing against my throat. “I’ll say this one more time. I am not donating stem cells.” “Sophie is pregnant with my child. I can’t risk anything happening to me. Who’s going to take care of her and the baby?” Pregnant. So he had his first love back. And now a new child on the way. Then what was Charlotte? What was the little girl who had spent five years longing for him, calling him Daddy for five years? “Alexander, she is your biological daughter! You knew she was allergic to strawberries, and you sent a strawberry cake anyway. You did this on purpose!” I screamed. Tears poured down my face. His eyes flickered. Then they went hard. “So what if I did? Charlotte was born weak. She’s been nothing but a burden. The world would be better off without her.” “All I want is Leandro. Sophie and my new child. Charlotte never deserved a place in my life.” Never deserved. That shattered the very last illusion I had ever held. Sophie walked out from behind him, leaning into his side, looking down at me with a smile that cut like glass. “Jones, you never had a chance against me. If I hadn’t gone abroad back then, you would have never had a place in his life at all.” “Charlotte was always a burden. Better that she dies and makes room for my child.” I was shaking with rage. I lunged toward her. Alexander threw me off and I crashed hard into the rocky ground. The back of my head smashed against the stone and everything went dark for a moment. “Jones, if you touch Sophie, I will make sure you die right alongside Charlotte!” He wrapped his arms around Sophie and boarded the yacht. They left. And I was sealed inside my despair. Rain came down in sheets, mixing with blood and tears on my face. Bitter. Salty. Cold. I dragged myself up and made my way back to the hospital one step at a time, each step like treading on broken glass. I knew it now. The last hope was gone.

When I got back to the hospital, Charlotte’s heart rate plummeted. Alarms screamed. Doctors and nurses flooded the room, faces white, voices trembling. “She’s crashing! Full anaphylactic shock , cardiac and pulmonary failure , heart rate dropping to zero!” “Ten minutes, Mrs. Jones! Contact the donor , right now! There is no other option!” Everyone fought. Every machine was thrown into the battle. I watched Charlotte’s tiny body convulse. I watched the color drain from her face. I watched the heart rate line go flat and cold, and my soul left my body. I ripped my phone out with shaking hands and called Alexander. This time, he picked up. I grabbed the last thread holding me together and screamed with everything I had left. “Alexander! Charlotte’s heart rate is zero! She has ten minutes! Please come to the hospital , please save her , she is your daughter! Your own daughter!” A few seconds of silence from the other end. Then his voice came through, colder than anything I had ever heard, buried beneath the sound of Sophie’s laughter and a knife cutting through cake. “Jones, would you stop? I’m here with Sophie and Leandro eating strawberry cake. I’m not getting involved in whatever is happening with Charlotte.” “If she dies, she dies. One less thing to worry about. Don’t call me again.” Sophie’s voice rang out deliberately, sharp and cruel. “Alex, ignore her. This strawberry cake is to die for. That sick little girl can finally rest in peace~” The line went dead. A flat dial tone. In the same moment that tone filled my ear, the ICU doors opened and the doctor’s voice reached me like a verdict from the end of the world. “We were unable to resuscitate her… Charlotte passed away at 11:40 this morning. I’m so sorry, Mrs. Jones. We did everything we could.” The line on the monitor went flat and stayed there. Charlotte’s small hand slipped out of mine. Her tiny body lost the last of its warmth. I stood there, frozen. My tears dried in an instant. No pain. No crying. Only a hatred that had burned its way into my bones. So he truly had been capable of watching his own daughter die in his indifference. So eight years of love and five years of devotion meant less than a strawberry cake. Less than one word of flattery from his first love. So my Charlotte had gone to her grave without ever once being held by her father. This time, everything inside me went quiet. Alexander. Sophie. You killed my daughter. I will destroy everything you have. I will burn your lives to the ground. I will make you feel every shred of pain this world has to offer. You owe Charlotte her life. I will collect it back from you a thousand times over, with interest. That strawberry cake is your death sentence. That five-year-old girl’s life is the anniversary of your destruction. From this day forward, I am not the woman who loved you. I am the fury that will never stop coming for you. And you will spend your entire lives repaying this debt in blood. I held Charlotte’s cold little body and sat in the hallway outside the emergency room for a full day and night. Still. Silent. Tearless. Like a statue with no soul left inside it, reduced entirely to ash.

I went back to the house and packed up Charlotte’s things. Little dresses. Little shoes. Colored pencils. Picture books. All of it arranged so neatly. I folded each one and packed it away, and my tears fell on them and soaked in. Every single item still carried her warmth. Every single one went through my heart like a blade. I went through the bag the nurse had handed me , Charlotte’s personal belongings. A pink bunny-shaped box. I opened it. Everything inside made it harder to breathe. A small diary with shaky, uneven handwriting. Every entry was about her dad. Today I drew Daddy. Daddy didn’t come. I’m allergic to strawberries. Daddy knows. He won’t let me eat them. I just want Daddy to hug me one time. Just once. Birthday wish: I want Daddy to like me. The last page was written yesterday. Daddy sent me a cake. Strawberry flavor. Daddy finally loves me. I’m so happy. I held that diary and broke completely apart. My Charlotte. She died believing that the cake that killed her was her father’s love. She was still forgiving him right up until the very end. In the box there was also a drawing of the three of us as a family , crumpled from how tightly she had held it. Her worn old stuffed bunny was there too. She always said the rabbit was a gift from Daddy. An unfinished drawing. Candy she had been saving and hadn’t eaten yet. The hospital nurse gave me the full file of evidence. Records of the tampered strawberry cake. A recording of him refusing to donate. A medical report showing her prenatal vitamins had been contaminated. The proof was airtight. He was a murderer. A man who had conspired to end his own daughter’s life. I took out my phone and called my attorney. My voice was calm in a way that should have frightened anyone who heard it. “I want to file charges against Alexander. Intentional homicide. Abandonment. Aggravated assault.” “I want him sentenced to life. I want him stripped of every asset he has. I want him to lose everything.” “And I want the divorce. I want him to live the rest of his life drowning in regret.” From this moment on, the woman who had loved Alexander no longer existed. In her place stood something else entirely , something that would not stop until justice was done. Alexander came home reeking of alcohol, his expression dark. “Sign the divorce papers. And don’t bring up that dead kid.” That dead kid. I turned around slowly. My eyes were cold. “Alexander. Charlotte is dead. And you are the one who killed her.” I threw the evidence in his face. Text message records. Audio recordings. The diary. The medical reports. The papers scattered across the floor. And among them, Charlotte’s handwriting stared up at him. Daddy finally loves me. The color drained from his face. He began to shake. Sophie burst in crying. “Alexander, she’s lying! That child was always going to die!” I looked at her without flinching. “You’re an accomplice. You’ll pay for it alongside him.” Alexander roared. “I have money. I have connections. You don’t stand a chance against me!” “Sign the agreement. I’ll give you two million. We’ll call it even.” I laughed. It was a hollow, glacial sound. “You owe Charlotte her life. No amount of money will ever make that even.” “I will take everything from you. And you will never, ever come back from it.”

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Born again, I swore I would love Ethan with all my heart and make up for what I owed him in my past life. But he had changed. He brought his mistress home and even slept with her right in front of me, in our bed. He stole my art exhibition and gave it to his mistress, caressing her slightly swollen pregnant belly as he publicly declared she was his true love. It wasn’t until I signed the divorce papers and left for good that he remembered he was also reborn. He called me. “Stella, I remember everything now! You’re the one I love!” But it was too late. I sat on the falling plane, my heart calm. “If there’s a next life, let’s never meet again.” Stella’s POV To pave the way for Vivian Sullivan, Ethan Blackwood forcibly took the solo art exhibition I’d prepared for three years and put Vivian’s name on it. Two burly bodyguards pinned me to a chair in the lounge. Through the gaps in the blinds, I watched the big screen with heartbreak. On screen, Vivian wore the haute couture dress that was supposed to be mine, gracefully accepting the media’s flashbulbs and praise. And every painting hanging in that exhibition hall was the result of countless sleepless nights I had spent creating them. “Ethan, you can’t do this!” I struggled, my voice breaking with sobs. “That’s my achievement! You know how important it is to me! I painted those to commemorate my grandmother who passed away!” Ethan stood before me, looking down at me with arrogance. The eyes that once overflowed with tenderness now looked at me with the coldness of a stranger. “Vivian just returned to the country. She needs a prominent name to establish herself in the art world. You’re my wife. You get the power and status that come with being a Blackwood. What’s wrong with doing her a small favor?” “Sacrifice?” I looked at this man who had once sacrificed everything for me with despair, my heart crushed by an invisible hand. I shed all my tears, and finally couldn’t help asking him before he turned away. “Ethan, you loved me so much. Why did you suddenly stop loving me?” He paused, not looking back, and said, “Ours is just a marriage in name only, a mutual arrangement. When did I ever love you?” The moment the door closed, I slid down the wall to the floor, tears streaming down my face. Never loved me? How could he have never loved me? In my past life, he loved me so much. That’s right. I was reborn. In my previous life, I was forced to marry Ethan because of family circumstances. Back then, he indulged my every whim. If I wanted the stars, he would never give me the moon. If I mentioned liking a multi-million dollar piece of jewelry, it would appear on my desk the next day. When I was sick, he would cancel billion-dollar international meetings to stay by my bedside. But I despised him. Because the one I loved was Adrian Foster. After my parents forced me to marry Ethan, I fiercely resisted the marriage. I refused to sleep in the same bed as him, wouldn’t accompany him to any events, and even frequently went out drinking at bars, deliberately embarrassing him. In the end, I believed Adrian Foster’s words, naively thinking it was love, and eloped with him. But I never imagined Adrian Foster didn’t love me at all. The reason he went to such lengths to win my heart was because the Foster family and the Blackwood family were business competitors. Adrian had long ago figured out that Ethan loved me, so he came up with a plan to use me to defeat Ethan. Adrian kidnapped me and used my life to threaten Ethan. “Ethan, send me one of your fingers every day, or I’ll throw her off this building.” Ethan said nothing. He simply cut off one finger each day and sent it in a box. On the tenth day, when the last finger, still wearing his wedding ring, was delivered, I completely lost my mind. Unwilling to let Ethan continue such foolishness for my sake, I killed myself. After death, my soul floated in midair. I watched as Ethan, who had always been so proud, went mad at the sight of my corpse. He went alone to avenge me, personally breaking every bone in Adrian Foster’s body, listening to his screams. He abandoned his billion-dollar fortune, abandoned the entire Blackwood Group, and perished in flames while holding my corpse. In the fire, he kissed my lips tenderly and whispered, “Stella, if there’s a next life… could you love me just once?” As the flames consumed him, I floated in midair, sobbing uncontrollably. In that moment, I finally saw his love. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself reborn. I was back to the first year of my marriage to Ethan. I was overjoyed. This time, I was determined to love Ethan properly and make up for everything I owed him in my past life. So I deleted all of Adrian Foster’s contact information, woke up early every day to make him breakfast, waited for him to come home late into the night. My whole world revolved around him. But he had changed. He was no longer gentle with me, no longer came home every day, and kept a mistress on the side. Vivian Sullivan. Now, he had even stolen my art exhibition to help Vivian. After Ethan left, I sat on the cold floor, my tears dried up. Fine! Since he didn’t love me in this life, I would let go and completely fulfill his wishes. I stood up and dragged my exhausted body to the hospital. When I pushed open the door to the ward, Dad was still unconscious, his face pale, his breathing weak beneath the oxygen mask. “Stella.” Mom stood sadly by the bed, looking as if she’d aged ten years overnight. “Your father’s company was maliciously sabotaged by Ethan. The capital chain broke, which triggered your father’s heart attack…” I fell to my knees. “Mom, I’m sorry… it’s all because of me…” Mom pulled me up and sighed. “Back then, Ethan was the one who actively pursued you, saying he’d loved you for years. How did things suddenly become like this?” “Mom,” I took a deep breath, my nails digging deep into my palms. “I’ve made up my mind. I want to divorce Ethan. Once Dad gets a little better, our family will leave the country. We’ll leave this place forever.” Mom thought for a moment, looked at Dad on the hospital bed, and nodded. “Alright. We’ll leave.”

Stella’s POV The immigration office paperwork went smoothly. When I walked out the door, the sunlight outside was brilliant. This marriage full of misunderstandings and torment was finally coming to an end. Just then, I heard a loud screech of brakes. “Watch out!” Before I could turn around, a massive impact knocked me to the ground. My entire body exploded in pain, and then I blacked out. I woke to the smell of disinfectant. The instant I opened my eyes, Ethan’s cold face was right in front of me. He looked down at me with arrogance and disgust. “Stella, did you do this on purpose? Seeing that Vivian got hurt a few days ago, you deliberately got into a car accident to gain sympathy?” He sneered. “Let me tell you, ours is just a marriage in name only with no love. No matter how much you imitate Vivian, it won’t work. I don’t have time to play along with your act here.” I opened my mouth, about to say I really had been in a car accident, when the hospital room door suddenly burst open. “Mr. Blackwood, the fruit you requested.” The assistant handed over a box. Ethan took it, lifted the lid to glance inside, and his brow immediately furrowed. “Why is there mango?” His voice was displeased. “My wife is allergic to mangoes. Go buy another batch.” That sentence struck me like lightning, freezing all the blood in my body. Allergic to mangoes. In my past life, in our second year of marriage, I ate mango and had an acute asthma attack that nearly caused me to pass out. That’s when he learned about it. But now, we’d only been married one year, and I’d never mentioned my mango allergy to anyone! Thinking back to his behavior recently. His sudden distance from me, his inexplicable favoritism toward Vivian Sullivan, and that statement “when did I ever love you”… An absurd thought appeared in my mind, and my whole body began to tremble. “Ethan…” I looked into his eyes. “Are you… also reborn?” A flicker of emotion flashed through Ethan’s eyes, but he quickly concealed it. He frowned, his tone impatient. “What rebirth? Did you damage your brain in the crash?” I continued to press. “Then how did you know I’m allergic to mangoes?” “A while ago your parents came to see me,” he said calmly, not even a flutter of his eyelashes, his tone cold and flawless. “They asked me to treat you better. They gave me a notebook with your preferences and dietary restrictions written in it. I glanced through it before throwing it in the trash.” His explanation was perfect, but it caused me great pain. Was I overthinking? Yes, if he really carried memories from his past life, how could he bear to hurt me like this? A nurse suddenly pushed the door open. “Mr. Blackwood, Miss Sullivan is awake. She says her heart hurts and she’s looking for you.” At those words, Ethan turned without hesitation and walked away without looking back, not even sparing me a glance as I lay in the hospital bed. During my three-day hospital stay, Ethan didn’t visit me once. Every time the nurse came to change my dressing, her hesitant glances felt like mockery of my miserable state. On the fourth morning, I discharged myself. The immigration paperwork was complete. To leave now, only one final step remained. Divorce. I returned to that cold house and sat at the desk, neatly writing out a divorce agreement. The terms in the agreement were simple: I would leave with nothing, wanting only my freedom. My phone vibrated. Vivian Sullivan had updated her Twitter. In the photo, Ethan sat at his office desk with Vivian leaning on his shoulder. The caption read: “Someone said he never allows non-work personnel in his office, but today he made an exception for me~” My finger hovered over the screen for a long time without pressing down. In my past life, Ethan had similarly broken countless principles for me. Though he never ate spicy food, he accompanied me eating chili peppers until he needed his stomach pumped. Despite his severe germaphobia, he carried my drunk self home… I took a deep breath, banishing those images from my mind, picked up the divorce agreement, and walked out the door.

Stella’s POV The Blackwood Group building was still imposing. As the elevator ascended, I was still thinking about how to bring up the divorce. Passing the secretarial area, Ethan’s assistant happened to walk by with documents. “Mrs. Blackwood?” The assistant was obviously stunned. “Are you here to see Mr. Blackwood?” “Yes.” I clutched the document folder in my hand. “I need him to sign something.” The assistant’s gaze lingered on my pale face for a moment. “I happen to be going in. I can take it in for you.” I hesitated, then handed him the divorce agreement. “Thank you.” The moment the door opened, my blood froze. Ethan was kneeling on one knee, tenderly massaging the ankle of Vivian who sat on the sofa. Vivian wore a short skirt, her pale legs resting on his knee, a sweet smile on her face. “Mr. Blackwood, these documents need your signature.” The assistant’s voice made Ethan look up. Busy massaging Vivian, he didn’t even look at the documents, simply flipping to the last page and signing. I stood outside the door, my nails digging deep into my skin. In my past life when I sprained my ankle playing tennis, Ethan had knelt just like this, carefully applying medicine, his brow furrowed with worry. Soon, the assistant came out and returned the divorce agreement to me. “Mrs. Blackwood, it’s signed.” I looked at Ethan’s name on the divorce agreement, tears streaming down my face involuntarily. I hummed in acknowledgment, thanked him, and turned to leave. While waiting for the elevator, Vivian’s voice suddenly came from behind me. “Stella? What are you doing here?” I whipped around to see Ethan release Vivian’s hand, his face dark as he walked toward me. “Who told you to come to the company?” He grabbed my wrist. “We have no feelings for each other. I won’t bother you, so don’t come bothering me!” I forcefully pulled my hand free. “Got it. There won’t be a next time.” Seeing the atmosphere grow tense, Vivian immediately stepped forward and took Ethan’s arm, coaxing gently, “Ethan, don’t be like this. Stella, Ethan and I are going to the auction house. Why don’t you come with us? Consider it relaxing.” “That’s not necessary.” I cut her off directly. “Stella,” Ethan said coldly, “When someone tells you to go, you go. Don’t waste others’ good intentions.” In the end, I was still forced to go with them to the auction house. I sat in the auction hall, the enthusiastic bidding voices ringing in my ears. “Fifty million! Mr. Blackwood bids fifty million!” the auctioneer shouted excitedly. “This pink diamond necklace goes to Mr. Blackwood!” Vivian leaned on Ethan’s shoulder, a victorious smile on her face. “Ethan, this necklace is so beautiful.” “As long as you like it.” Ethan gently brushed the hair by her ear. I gripped my bidding paddle tightly, my knuckles white. In my past life, Ethan had doted on me the same way. But now the same tenderness was given to another woman. Just then, the big screen suddenly changed, playing an audio recording. In the recording, Vivian’s voice sounded. “What charity auction? It’s just a bunch of poor people gathering. If it weren’t for Ethan, I wouldn’t come. And that Stella, so what if she’s married to Ethan? Didn’t Ethan still give me her art exhibition?” The entire hall erupted. Vivian’s face turned from red to white to finally gray. “Turn it off! Turn it off now!” She stood up screaming, trembling all over. She whirled toward me, tears streaming down. “Stella! Do you hate me this much? You had to use AI to synthesize this recording to humiliate me? Are you trying to drive me to death?” With that, she covered her face and rushed out. Ethan’s face was very dark, his sharp gaze sweeping across the hall. “Anyone who dares leak what happened today will bear the consequences themselves.” Finally, he looked at me, his voice ice-cold. “You just wait.”

Stella’s POV I returned home in a daze, my mind completely blank. I hadn’t done any such thing. I had no idea about that recording. But Ethan wouldn’t believe me. He would only think I was making excuses. I sat anxiously on the sofa waiting all night. It wasn’t until dawn that the front door was violently flung open. Ethan stormed in radiating fury. “Stella!” He grabbed my chin, applying so much force he nearly crushed my bones. “Do you know Vivian tried to kill herself?! If I hadn’t arrived in time, she’d be a corpse by now!” “It wasn’t me…” I said with difficulty. “I didn’t play that recording…” “It wasn’t you? Are you telling me she synthesized a recording herself to ruin her own reputation?!” He sneered and abruptly released his grip. “You keep hurting her. You must pay the price!” Those words stabbed into my heart like a knife. “Stella, hold a press conference immediately. Publicly apologize to Vivian and admit you forged the recording!” I felt heartbroken but still looked at him defiantly. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I won’t apologize!” Ethan sneered. “Fine. Quite stubborn. In that case, the Sinclair Group’s overseas project will shut down completely today. Also, the special medication your father’s using at the hospital will be immediately discontinued.” “Ethan!” I looked at him in disbelief, trembling all over. “Are you insane? That’s my father’s life!” “You forced my hand.” He looked at me coldly, like an emotionless machine. “Apologize, and the medication resumes.” For my father’s life, I gave in. Under the spotlights, countless cameras pointed at me. My face pale, like a soulless robot, I stood before the microphone. “I’m sorry. I was jealous of Miss Sullivan and forged the recording. I apologize to her.” I mechanically recited the script the PR department had prepared, each sentence crushing my self-respect. The flashbulbs were blinding. The reporters below attacked me with the most vicious language. “Miss Sinclair, how could you do something so malicious?” “Are you psychologically twisted?” And Ethan stood not far away, watching me coldly, even thoughtfully draping a coat over Vivian Sullivan, who had just been discharged from the hospital. In that moment, my heart died completely. The man who once said “whoever hurts Stella, I’ll make their whole family die” had now personally pushed me into hell and destroyed my reputation. That evening, Ethan actually brought Vivian Sullivan back to our house. “Vivian was traumatized and her mental state isn’t good. She’ll be staying at home for a while.” His tone was flat, as if discussing the weather. I had no energy left to argue. “Whatever.” Anyway, we were already going through divorce proceedings. Soon, this wouldn’t be my home anymore. Vivian looked at me, a smile curling her lips. “Stella, I’m hungry. Can you make me some pasta?” Ethan looked at me. “Didn’t you hear?” How ironic that I’d fallen to the point of cooking for my husband’s mistress. I pulled at the corners of my mouth and mechanically walked toward the kitchen. In the kitchen, the water had just started boiling. Vivian suddenly walked in and closed the door behind her. The vulnerability on her face instantly vanished, replaced by undisguised arrogance. “Stella, Ethan loves me now. You have to serve me like a servant.” I chopped vegetables expressionlessly, not even giving her a glance. “Are you done? If so, get out.” Vivian’s gaze shifted and suddenly landed on the table. There lay the bracelet I’d casually removed when washing my hands. The only thing my mother had left me, and my most treasured possession. Vivian sneered and suddenly reached out to grab the bracelet, deliberately smashing it hard on the floor. The crisp sound of shattering echoed in the kitchen. The fine bracelet instantly broke into several pieces. “What are you doing!” I shouted angrily, my brain buzzing as I shoved her hard. Vivian deliberately fell backward, hitting the cabinet heavily, then let out a shrill scream. “Ah! It hurts!” Ethan rushed in at the sound. Seeing this scene, his expression changed drastically. He rushed forward and shoved me hard. Caught off guard, my waist slammed heavily into the corner of the table. The pain made me gasp, cold sweat instantly breaking out. “Stella, what are you going crazy about now!” Ethan roared. “She broke the bracelet my mother left me!” I pointed at the broken bracelet on the floor, my voice choked with tears, my eyes full of despair. Vivian hid in Ethan’s arms, crying softly and gently. “Ethan, I didn’t mean to. I was just trying to help get a bowl and accidentally knocked it off… Stella pushed me, my waist hurts so much…” “Over a broken bracelet, you assault someone?” Ethan looked at me coldly, his eyes full of disgust. “Stella, you’re becoming more and more vicious.” A broken bracelet? That was the last keepsake my mother left me! I looked at him and found myself unable to breathe. I suddenly felt that explanations were meaningless, because for someone unloved, even breathing was wrong. “Since you like pushing people so much, go stand outside tonight. You can come in when you’re ready to admit your mistake.” Ethan issued his cruel order.

Stella’s POV On a late autumn night, heavy rain began to fall. The bodyguards forcibly dragged me into the courtyard. The icy rain mercilessly pounded down on me, stealing away all my body heat. Through the bright floor-to-ceiling windows, I watched the warm lamplight inside where Ethan held a towel, tenderly drying Vivian’s hair. Rain mixed with tears streamed down my face. I stood in the rain all night. In my past life, even in light drizzle, he would nervously shelter me in his arms, afraid I’d get even slightly wet. But now, he personally pushed me into the rain. By dawn, my legs had completely lost feeling. My vision went black and I collapsed heavily into the rainwater. I developed a high fever, my consciousness blurry. But in the huge house, no one cared about me. The servants looked at me with pity, but none dared help because Ethan had issued a supreme order: no one was allowed to call a doctor for me. I forced myself to get up and took two pills myself. Because Ethan sent word: Vivian’s birthday party must be personally organized by me, as punishment for pushing her. Dragging my sick body, I mechanically confirmed every detail of the party. Selecting flowers, confirming dishes, checking the guest list. I was like a soulless machine. On the day of the birthday party, the Blackwood estate was brilliantly lit. Guests wore haute couture, holding champagne and greeting each other. “The legitimate wife throwing a birthday party for the mistress. I’ve never heard of such a thing…” “Mr. Blackwood is truly in love this time. Look at those gifts. Any one of them is worth a fortune…” I stood in the shadows of a corner, deaf to these comments. My gaze fell on Ethan at center stage. He wore an impeccable suit, constantly checking his watch, obviously waiting for Vivian to appear. Time passed minute by minute, but Vivian never showed up. Ethan’s expression grew worse and worse. Finally, he sent his assistant to find her. “Mr. Blackwood!” The assistant ran back in a panic, holding a letter. “Miss Sullivan left. She only left this…” Ethan snatched the letter and scanned it quickly, his face changing drastically. Finally, he threw the letter in my face. “Stella!” His voice seemed to squeeze through his teeth. “You’d better explain this clearly!” The letter drifted to my feet. Trembling, I picked it up. It was in Vivian’s handwriting. “Ethan, by the time you read this letter, I’ll be gone. I love you very much, but Stella threatened me using my brother. I had no choice but to leave. From now on, we’ll never see each other again.” “It wasn’t me.” I numbly returned the letter to him. “I didn’t do such a thing.” “You say that every time!” Ethan grabbed my throat. “But you’ve done everything! Tell me! Where is Vivian?” I could barely breathe but stubbornly met his gaze. “I… really… don’t know…” Ethan sneered and pulled out his phone to make a call. “Immediately turn off the respirator for Stella’s father at the hospital.” “No!” I completely broke down. I knelt on the ground and said, “Ethan, please, spare my father! I really don’t know where she is! If you turn off the respirator, my father will die!” I desperately begged. Was this cold, ruthless man really the same man who died for me in my past life? Just then, a bodyguard rushed in. “Mr. Blackwood, we found Miss Sullivan! She’s on her way to the airport!” Ethan immediately released me and rushed out without looking back. I lay on the floor, my face covered in blood, and closed my eyes in despair.

Stella’s POV The ambulance siren pierced the night sky. I sat on a bench in the hospital corridor, my hands clenched into fists. On his way to chase after Vivian, Ethan had gotten into a car accident because he was driving too fast. From the end of the corridor came Vivian’s anguished crying. Medical staff rushed past pushing a gurney. Ethan lay on it, his white shirt soaked with blood, his handsome face completely pale. Vivian clutched his hand tightly, crying heartbrokenly. “I’m sorry… it’s all my fault… I shouldn’t have thrown a tantrum and left…” Ethan weakly raised his hand and wiped away her tears with his fingertips. “As long as you don’t leave, I’m willing to do anything…” My heart clenched violently. I turned and quickly left. I didn’t want to watch anymore, didn’t dare to watch. My heart had died completely. In the following days, I stayed at the hospital caring for Dad. Dad’s condition finally stabilized. I knew it was time to leave. Before leaving, I went to a church in the suburbs. The church was very quiet in the early morning. I sat there peacefully, silently crying. Slowly, all the moments I’d shared with Ethan began replaying in my mind. The wishes Ethan had made when shooting stars passed also appeared before me one by one. “May Stella be happy and safe. From Ethan” “Praying for Stella’s health. From Ethan” “I hope Stella can come to like me. From Ethan” Everything from the past slowly turned black and white before me, and finally, along with my feelings for him, disappeared completely. After returning, I went to the Blackwood family’s old house to say goodbye to Ethan’s grandfather. Ethan’s grandfather had always been very fond of me. He was the only person in the Blackwood family who gave me warmth. “Ethan and I… got divorced.” After his initial shock, Ethan’s grandfather sighed deeply and gripped my hand. “He failed to seize the opportunity. Remember this. As long as I’m alive, that Vivian Sullivan will never marry into my Blackwood family!” My nose stung. “Please rest. I’ll go pour you some water.” I went out to get water. When I returned, I heard Vivian’s malicious voice from inside the room. “You still dare obstruct me from marrying Ethan? Go die!” I froze in shock, then burst through the door to see Vivian replacing Ethan’s grandfather’s emergency medication with different pills. “What are you doing!” I rushed forward and shoved Vivian aside. Startled, Vivian dropped the pill bottle. Ethan’s grandfather suffered extreme shock, his eyes wide, unable to catch his breath, and he passed out directly. The hospital corridor lights were a harsh, pallid white. The operating room light stayed on all night. At dawn, the doctor finally emerged, his expression grave. “Mr. Blackwood, your grandfather’s condition is too severe. Combined with the extreme shock, there’s a high probability… he’ll become a vegetative patient.” Ethan punched the wall, his knuckles immediately bloody. He turned around, his face dark, looking at me and Vivian standing to the side. “What exactly happened?” “It was her!” Vivian immediately pointed at me and screamed. “She tried to kill Grandfather! When I came in, she was switching Grandfather’s medication! Ethan, I’m so scared…” “It wasn’t me!” My voice trembled as I looked at Vivian lying in disbelief. “It was Vivian Sullivan. I saw with my own eyes that she switched the medication!” “Enough!” Ethan angrily interrupted, his gaze like a sharp knife stabbing my heart. “Stella, my grandfather treated you so well. How could you bear to hurt him?” “Ethan, believe me.” I looked at him in despair. “Take her away.” Ethan coldly ordered, feeling that even one more glance at me was excessive. He didn’t torture me. Instead, he threw three plane tickets in my face. “Stella, you’ve disappointed me too much. Take your parents and get on a plane immediately. Leave and never appear before me again. Otherwise, I guarantee the Sinclair family will completely disappear from this world.” I stared at those plane tickets, suddenly finding it laughably absurd. In my past life he killed himself for me. In this life he wanted to drive me overseas, never to see me again. I said nothing and silently picked up the tickets. On the way to the airport, I quietly sent a text to Mom and Dad. “Mom, Dad, bring my divorce certificate. Let’s meet at the airport. We’re leaving right away.” The departure hall was bustling with people. Ethan had originally planned to watch me go through security, but Vivian’s call suddenly came. “Vivian? Don’t be afraid, I’ll come back to be with you right away.” He hung up and didn’t even glance at me again, turning and striding away. I stood there, watching his figure disappear into the crowd, finally allowing a smile to appear on my face. I walked toward Mom and Dad and took the divorce certificate. Then I tore the three tickets to Paris that Ethan had given me into pieces, threw them in the trash, and bought three new tickets to Switzerland. “Dad, Mom, let’s go.”In the evening light, our family walked into the boarding gate without a single person looking back.

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I had just been diagnosed with late-stage cancer. Before I could tell my husband, I found him in the parking garage. He had the new intern pinned against a car, kissing her. Our eyes met. I didn’t cry or make a scene. I just turned and left, tearing the papers into pieces and throwing them in the trash. That night, he brought her home. He deliberately showed off the hickey on his neck. He and Sophia deliberately made suggestive moans in the guest bedroom. But unlike before, I didn’t go hysterical. I just stayed quietly in the study, never disturbing his little affair. He went crazy, kissing my lips fiercely. “Evelyn, aren’t you angry?” He didn’t know I was dying. With only fifteen days left to live, I didn’t want to fight over a man whose heart had already wandered. Evelyn POV In the quiet bedroom, my phone screen suddenly lit up. I opened my email. It was a confirmation letter from a Swiss organization. “Ms. Evelyn Hart, your assisted death application has been approved. The flight is scheduled for fifteen days from now. Please arrive on time.” I stared at those words for a long time, until my eyes burned, then slowly exhaled and pressed the lock button. Fifteen days. I only had fifteen days left in this world. At the same time, on the hundred-inch TV on the wall, a financial interview was being broadcast live. Under the spotlight, Ethan Sterling wore a perfectly tailored bespoke suit, devastatingly handsome. The host smiled and asked, “Mr. Sterling, I heard you named the landmark building about to be completed in the city center ‘Evelyn Tower.’ Does it have any special meaning?” Hearing that name, Ethan’s usually stern eyes instantly softened with infinite tenderness. “Evelyn is my wife’s name.” He looked at the camera, his voice deep and certain. “This tower is my ten-year anniversary gift to her. I want everyone in the city to know that Ethan Sterling will always love Evelyn Hart.” The audience immediately burst into thunderous applause, and the host’s envy was visible to the naked eye. “Oh my God, Mr. Sterling and his wife have been together since college and are still so sweet. It really makes people envious. Any secrets to maintaining love?” “The secret is to treat her as the only light in your life. If I could give her my life, how could I bear to let her suffer even a little?” Hearing this deeply romantic confession, I leaned back on the sofa, my lips curling into a faint sneer. Yes, everyone thought Ethan loved me. When I got sick in college, he carried me to the hospital in pouring rain and ended up with pneumonia from getting soaked. During the hardest times of his startup, he ate expired bread for a month just to buy me that necklace I’d glanced at. In five years of marriage, he never spoke to other women, and all his assets were in my name. Even I once firmly believed that Ethan would never betray me. Until half a month ago, when I received my late-stage stomach cancer diagnosis. Holding the report, I went to Ethan’s company, wanting to see him, wanting to cry in his arms. But in the dim underground parking garage, I saw him pinning the new intern Sophia against the car door, the two of them kissing intensely. In that moment, my world collapsed. No questioning, no hysteria. I just quietly turned around, tore that diagnosis into pieces, and threw it in the trash. Since his heart was already gone, he didn’t need to know about my condition. I didn’t want to spend the last moments of my life fighting over a man whose heart had changed like some pathetic woman. So I calmly contacted the Swiss organization and set my own death date. The door opened. Ethan came in covered in snow. Seeing me on the sofa, he didn’t even take off his shoes, quickly walking over and pulling me into his arms with concern. “Why aren’t you lying in bed? The living room is so cold. What if you catch a cold?” He scolded while covering my cold hands with his warm ones, his eyes full of anxiety. I didn’t struggle, letting him hold me. But the moment he got close, I smelled the faint rose perfume on him. That was Sophia’s favorite scent. My gaze dropped, and I clearly saw a lipstick mark on the inside collar of Ethan’s black coat. My heart felt like it was being stabbed by needles, the pain stopping my breath. Ethan noticed my gaze and looked down, his expression freezing for a moment. But he reacted quickly, explaining without changing expression. “I had a business dinner today. The private room was crowded, probably accidentally brushed against someone. I’ll go shower and change right away so it doesn’t bother you.” Lying without even blinking. I looked at this familiar face and suddenly found it incredibly strange. “It’s fine.” My tone was calm. “Go shower.” Ethan paused, seemingly not expecting me to be so calm. After all, in the past, though I wouldn’t make a scene, I would always be a little angry and need him to coax me for a long time. “Evelyn, you’re not mad, are you? I swear, I didn’t even look at another woman.” He carefully leaned in, wanting to kiss my forehead. I turned my head away, dodging him. “I’m a bit tired. I want to sleep now.” Ethan just thought I wasn’t feeling well and touched my hair tenderly. “Okay, you sleep first. I’ll come keep you company after I shower.” Listening to the sound of water from the bathroom, I closed my eyes and mentally crossed off another day. Ethan, you don’t need to act anymore. After all, I only have fourteen days left.

Evelyn POV The next morning, I woke to the aroma coming from the kitchen. I walked out of the bedroom and saw Ethan wearing an apron, busy in the kitchen. “You’re up?” Ethan heard movement and turned to smile at me. “Go wash up. I made your favorite foie gras today.” I watched him skillfully cooking the foie gras, his movements meticulous. Suddenly, he accidentally cut his finger with the knife, and blood seeped out. I instinctively stepped forward, wanting to get a bandage, but my steps halted. If it were before, I would have been panicking. But now, I just found it ironic. These hands. Had they also caressed another woman the same way last night? Ethan saw I didn’t move and looked a bit surprised. He grabbed a tissue and pressed it to the wound himself, then brought the foie gras to the table. “Try it quickly. Today’s foie gras is delicious.” I had just picked up my utensils when the doorbell suddenly rang. Ethan frowned and went to open the door. Outside stood Sophia with red, swollen eyes. “Ethan,” Sophia’s voice was tearful from the start, “the pipes burst in my rental. The place is uninhabitable now. I don’t know anyone in this city, so I could only come find you.” Ethan instinctively glanced at me, his tone somewhat stiff. “My wife doesn’t like strangers in the house. I’ll have my assistant book you a hotel.” “But I’m scared to stay in a hotel alone…” Sophia’s tears dripped down. She stepped forward and grabbed Ethan’s sleeve. “Ethan, I’ll just stay a few days. I absolutely won’t disturb you two, okay?” I sat at the dining table, coldly watching this performance. Sophia was a student from a poor background that Ethan had sponsored. After graduation, she went straight to his company. Before, Ethan always said this girl had it tough, he’d help where he could. And now the two of them were in bed together. Ethan watched Sophia cry, sighed, and turned to look at me, his tone consulting. “Evelyn, she’s a young woman, it really isn’t safe. How about we let her stay in the guest room for a few days?” I took a sip of milk, not even lifting my head. “Whatever you want. It’s your house.” Ethan fell silent. He might have noticed something unusual about me today, but he still let Sophia in. As soon as Sophia entered, she sat at the dining table as naturally as the owner, staring at the foie gras with shining eyes. “Wow, Ethan, you can cook! This foie gras looks so delicious.” As she spoke, she directly picked up utensils and took the foie gras Ethan had specially made for me, taking a bite. “So good!” My hand holding the utensils paused. Ethan’s expression changed slightly as he lightly scolded. “Sophia, that was for Evelyn. If you want some, there’s more in the kitchen. Get it yourself.” Though it was a reprimand, his tone carried an unmistakable indulgence. Sophia stuck out her tongue playfully. “Sorry, I was too hungry. You won’t hold it against me, right?” I put down my utensils and wiped my mouth with a napkin. “If you like it, eat more. I’m not hungry anymore.” With that, I got up and walked toward the backyard. The backyard had a huge glass greenhouse that Ethan had spent tens of millions building for me. It was filled with my favorite bellflowers, blooming year-round. I walked into the greenhouse and skillfully opened the surveillance computer in the corner. This computer was connected to the dashcam in Ethan’s car, originally installed for convenient vehicle monitoring. Ethan had always known about it. I clicked on last night’s footage. The image was somewhat dark, but the sound was piercingly clear. In the cramped back seat, two people were tightly entangled. Sophia’s coquettish moans and Ethan’s heavy breathing intertwined. “Ethan, if you treat me like this, Evelyn will be heartbroken…” Sophia said. Ethan’s movements suddenly intensified, his voice hoarse. “Don’t mention her. Evelyn’s health is poor, I don’t dare touch her. Only you can satisfy me. Sophia, you’re such a temptress.” “Between her and me, who do you love more?” “She’s a responsibility I can’t shirk, but you’re my life.” I stared at the screen, my nails digging deep into my palms, drawing blood without me even noticing. Responsibility. So these ten years of feelings, in his eyes, had been reduced to nothing but a responsibility he couldn’t shirk.

Evelyn POV “Evelyn.” Familiar footsteps suddenly came from behind. I quickly closed the computer screen and stood up. Ethan walked over, wrapping his arms tightly around my waist from behind, his chin resting in the crook of my neck, gently nuzzling. “Why did you run off here alone? You didn’t even eat breakfast. Your stomach will hurt again.” His voice was so tender it could drip water. I felt his chest pressed against my back, but all I could think of was the video of him and Sophia having sex. A strong wave of physiological nausea surged up. I suddenly pushed Ethan away, covering my mouth and dry heaving. Ethan was pushed back two steps, his expression instantly changing as he rushed forward to support me. “What’s wrong? Is it your stomach again? Come on, I’m taking you to the hospital!” The anxiety and panic in his eyes weren’t fake. Even his hands were trembling slightly. If I hadn’t heard him say that phrase “responsibility I can’t shirk” with my own ears, I really would have thought he loved me to his bones. The late-stage cancer pain attacked without warning at this moment. It felt like countless rusty knives were wildly churning in my stomach. The pain made my legs go weak instantly, and I collapsed to the ground. Cold sweat dripped down in large drops. I couldn’t even speak a complete sentence. “Evelyn! Evelyn, don’t scare me!” Ethan completely panicked. He scooped me up in his arms, his voice carrying desperate sobs. “It’s okay, I’m taking you to the hospital right now. Hang on!” Just then, Sophia walked out of the villa. She wore my silk robe, the neckline open wide, deliberately showing the glaring red marks on her collarbone. Seeing Ethan rushing out carrying me, Sophia put on a worried expression and came forward. “Ethan, what happened to Evelyn? Do you need my help?” Ethan only had eyes for me right now. He didn’t even look at her, roaring. “Get out of the way! Don’t block the road!” Sophia was startled by his yelling, a flash of viciousness in her eyes, but she still obediently moved aside. I leaned in Ethan’s arms, enduring the severe pain, looking at the hickeys on Sophia’s neck, my lips curling into a weak yet sarcastic smile. At the hospital, the doctor gave me a painkiller injection. Because I’d signed a confidentiality agreement with the doctor beforehand, he only told Ethan it was ordinary gastric spasms and prescribed some medicine. The hospital room fell quiet. Ethan sat by the bed, tightly holding my hand, his eyes red. “Evelyn, I’m sorry. I didn’t take good care of you. I’ll never make you angry again. Whatever you want, I’ll give you.” He lowered his head and kissed the back of my hand, his voice choked up. “When you’re feeling better, let’s go to Iceland to see the Northern Lights, okay? You’ve always wanted to go, right? I’ve pushed all my work for the second half of the year just to be with you.” He painted a beautiful future, trying to comfort me with these promises. I quietly looked at Ethan, my eyes hollow without a trace of emotion. “Ethan.” I spoke softly, my voice hoarse. “I’m here, I’m here.” Ethan quickly responded. “Do you really love me?” Ethan’s whole body shook. He looked up, his eyes firm beyond doubt. “Evelyn, you are my life. Without you, I can’t live.” I closed my eyes, and a tear slid from the corner, disappearing into the pillow. Such beautiful words. But why is your life currently wearing my robe, waiting for you at our home? I didn’t expose him. Since I’m leaving anyway, I’ll leave cleanly. No need to dredge up these things. “I’m tired. I want to sleep.” I turned over, my back to him. Ethan tucked in the blanket for me, saying softly. “Okay, I’ll watch over you. I’m not going anywhere.” I silently counted down in my heart. Thirteen more days. Ethan, in thirteen days, you’ll be completely free.

Evelyn POV The second day after being discharged, I made an excuse about meeting friends and went alone to a law firm. I signed donation agreements for all the properties, cars, and company shares Ethan had transferred to me after marriage. The recipient was a charity organization specifically for rescuing critically ill orphans. “Ms. Hart, are you certain you want to donate everything? This is an incalculable fortune.” The lawyer looked at the documents, repeatedly confirming in shock. “I’m certain.” I signed the last character without a moment’s hesitation. “It takes effect in fifteen days. During this time, please keep this absolutely confidential from my husband.” After handling everything, I walked out of the law firm building and stepped into an old elevator. The elevator descended halfway when there was a loud “clang,” and it suddenly stopped mid-air. Then the lights in the car flickered twice and went completely out. Everything plunged into deathly darkness. I have severe claustrophobia. When I was ten, I was kidnapped and locked in an abandoned basement for three days and nights. Since then, I couldn’t stand darkness. Ethan knew about this condition. For these ten years, he never let me stay alone in the dark. Even during power outages, he would rush over immediately to hold me tight. But now, darkness surged like a tide, instantly drowning me. I trembled all over, breathing rapidly, cold sweat instantly soaking through my clothes. I pressed the emergency call button, but there was no response. The intense sense of dying left my mind completely blank. With shaking hands, I pulled out my phone and instinctively dialed that familiar number. The phone rang for a long time before being answered. “Hello, Ethan…” I grasped at it like the last thread of hope, my voice trembling uncontrollably. “Evelyn?” On the other end came Sophia’s voice. All the blood in my body instantly froze. “Ethan’s in the shower. Do you have something urgent? Should I have him call you back later?” Sophia’s tone carried unconcealed provocation and pride. In the darkness, I gasped for breath, my throat feeling stuffed with cotton, unable to make a sound. “Oh my, Ethan, hurry up in there. I can’t wait anymore~” Sophia’s deliberately amplified coquettish voice came through the phone, followed by the sound of the bathroom door opening. I closed my eyes in despair, my hand loosening as the phone fell heavily to the ground. The screen shattered, the call disconnected. I curled up in the corner of the elevator, arms wrapped tightly around my knees, consciousness gradually fading. Ethan, I’m not afraid of the dark anymore. Because my world. You already destroyed it with your own hands, leaving not a trace of light. When I woke again, I was already on a hospital bed. I’d been rescued by building security who forcibly pried open the elevator doors. I opened my eyes. The hospital room was empty except for a nurse changing my IV. “You’re awake? Do you know how long you were unconscious? You almost died!” the nurse said worriedly. I stared blankly at the ceiling, not speaking. It wasn’t until three hours later that the door was suddenly pushed open. Ethan rushed in breathlessly, his tie askew, covered in sweat. “Evelyn! I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m late!” He rushed to the bedside, hugging me tightly, his voice trembling. “There was an emergency meeting at the company. I left my phone in the office. When I finished the meeting and saw the hospital’s call, I was scared to death.” I let him hold me, my gaze passing over his shoulder to land on his white shirt collar. There was an extremely obvious lipstick mark that hadn’t been wiped clean. The exact same color lipstick Sophia wore today. I looked at that red mark and suddenly laughed. Laughed until tears came out. “Evelyn, don’t scare me. Does something still hurt?” Ethan was thrown into panic by my laughter, cupping my face and asking anxiously. I gently pushed his hand away, my tone so calm it was devoid of emotion. “Ethan, I’m not afraid of the dark anymore.” Ethan froze, a flash of panic in his eyes. “Evelyn, what are you talking about?” I closed my eyes and turned my head away, no longer looking at him. Ten more days. Endure ten more days, and I can be completely free.

Evelyn POV The day I was discharged, New York welcomed its first snow of the year. Snowflakes fell heavily, quickly blanketing the entire city. Ethan had once sworn to me that every year’s first snow, he would walk with me down that long sycamore boulevard in our neighborhood. “Because I want to be with you always, until we grow old.” That’s what he’d said. I stood at the starting point of the sycamore boulevard, snow covering my body. I took out my phone, looking at the text Ethan had sent half an hour ago. “Evelyn, got held up with something at the company, and there’s traffic. Wait for me there like a good girl. I’ll be right there.” I didn’t reply, just stood quietly in the snow. Cold wind wrapped snowflakes into my collar. My stomach cramped in waves, but I seemed unable to feel the cold, standing motionless. One hour passed. Two hours passed. The sky gradually darkened, and streetlights lit up one by one. Just when I thought he wouldn’t come, two familiar figures appeared at the end of the sycamore boulevard. Ethan was giving Sophia a piggyback ride, stepping through the snow, walking toward this direction step by step. Sophia wore Ethan’s oversized down jacket, her whole body draped over his back, laughing exuberantly. “Ethan, carrying me like this feels like you’re carrying the whole world!” Sophia laughed, reaching out to catch falling snowflakes. Ethan laughed and bounced the person on his back, his voice clearly floating to my ears on the wind. “You’re way heavier than the whole world. Like a little pig.” “Hey! You’re the pig!” Sophia laughed and went to pinch his ear. The two looked so intimate. I stood behind a thick sycamore tree, coldly watching them walk past me. In the snowy sky, they really did look like a real couple. And I was like a ghost that couldn’t see light, hiding in a dark corner, watching my husband perform devotion with another woman. The severe pain in my stomach surged again. I bit my lip hard, tasting intense blood. I didn’t rush out to expose their affair, didn’t cry or make a scene. I just stood quietly until those two figures completely disappeared from view, then turned and slowly walked back to that cold home. At ten o’clock that night, Ethan finally came home covered in snow. Seeing me sitting on the sofa, he walked over with a face full of guilt, half-kneeling in front of me, holding my ice-cold hands. “Evelyn, I’m sorry. The car broke down halfway, and I waited forever for a tow truck.” As he spoke, he warmed my hands. “I couldn’t give you a piggyback ride down the sycamore boulevard today. Are you mad at me?” He acted so convincingly. If I hadn’t witnessed that scene with my own eyes, I would have believed him without hesitation. I looked at this face written with “deep affection” and suddenly felt it was all so pointless. Really, utterly pointless. I withdrew my hand, my lips curling into a faint smile. “I’m not mad. Since the car broke down, we’ll make up for it next year.” Ethan breathed a sigh of relief, pulling me into his arms like a weight had been lifted. “You’re so wonderful, darling. I promise, next year’s first snow, I’ll definitely carry you the whole way!” I leaned on his shoulder, eyes hollow as I watched the snow falling outside the window. There won’t be a next year, Ethan. Next year’s first snow, we won’t see each other again. I mentally crossed off another day. Seven more days.

Evelyn POV Three days until the flight departed. I started clearing out my things. Those limited edition bags Ethan gave me, the haute couture dresses, expensive jewelry. I kept nothing, listing everything at low prices on secondhand sites. What didn’t sell, I packed up and threw directly into the dumpster outside the neighborhood. The entire walk-in closet emptied by more than half. When Ethan came home that evening, he saw the empty cabinets. “Evelyn, where are all your clothes and bags? Why are they all gone?” he asked nervously. I was organizing the desk, not even looking up. “Got tired of them. Want to try a new style.” Hearing this, Ethan visibly relaxed. “Change them! Tomorrow I’ll have the brands send over all the new season items for you to pick from!” He hugged me from behind, pulling out a thick document from his briefcase and placing it in front of me. “Evelyn, look what this is?” I took the document. The cover prominently read: “Evelyn Foundation.” “This is a charity foundation I specifically established in your name.” Ethan’s tone was full of pride seeking praise. “Every year from now on, I’ll invest ten million into it, specifically to fund poor college students who can’t afford school. Consider it an advance wedding anniversary gift from me. Do you like it?” I opened the document. The terms were beautifully written, all about helping students and giving back to society with grand visions. But when I flipped to the hidden attachment on the last page, my gaze froze. The attachment clearly stated that under the foundation’s name was a shell investment company, and the actual controlling shareholder of this company was named Sophia. This meant that the ten million Ethan invested into the foundation each year, under the guise of charity, would ultimately flow into Sophia’s pocket through legal investment after being laundered. He used my name for charity to gain a good reputation, while secretly using this money to support his little mistress. Even this so-called “wedding anniversary gift” became a tool for him to pave the way for Sophia. Ethan, you’ve truly used calculation to its extreme. I looked at that name, my heart already numb beyond feeling pain. “What’s wrong? Is something written unsatisfactorily?” Seeing me remain silent, Ethan nervously leaned over to look. I closed the document, picked up the pen from the desk, and signed my name in the beneficiary confirmation column. “No, it’s written very well.” I handed the document back to him, even showing a slight smile. “Thank you. I really like this gift.” Ethan excitedly hugged me tight, lowering his head to plant a heavy kiss on my forehead. “As long as you like it. Evelyn, as long as you’re happy, I’m willing to do anything for you.” I lowered my eyes, hiding the bone-deep coldness in them. I knew that after I died, all my assets would be donated, including this foundation established in my name. Everything Ethan carefully planned for Sophia would ultimately turn to bubbles. Consider it my final “congratulatory gift” to them. I silently counted down in my heart. Three more days. I can leave him forever. I only hoped nothing would go wrong in these three days.

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After my adopted sister died, my brother Ethan became the person who hated me most in this world. He hated me so much that he shipped me off to a casino in Las Vegas to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. I begged and pleaded, but his eyes held nothing but contempt: “If it weren’t for donating her kidney to save you, Lily never would have died on that operating table! You killed her — now spend the rest of your life paying for it.” But when a gang ambush hit, he didn’t hesitate for a second. He pulled me into his arms and took every bullet meant for me. With his last breaths, he touched my face and said, coughing up blood: “If there’s a next life, I’d rather never have you as my sister. Having Lily was enough.” Those dying words dragged me straight into hell. I put a gun to my head and pulled the trigger. When I opened my eyes again, I’d been reborn — five years in the past. Dear brother, this time, I don’t want Lily’s kidney. And I don’t want your love anymore. I’ll give you exactly what you wished for. I’ll make sure you only ever have one sister.

“Grace! You actually held Lily’s hand in boiling water over a piece of candy — she saved your life! How do I have such an ungrateful, vicious sister?!” The familiar voice rang in my ears. I slowly opened my eyes and stared at the scene in front of me. This was five years ago. The day I burned Lily’s hand. I really had been reborn. The Ethan standing before me had no blood at the corner of his mouth. No bullet holes in his body. My nose stung. I forced down the flood of emotions rising in my chest and spoke in a hoarse voice: “I’m sorry, Ethan. I shouldn’t have burned Lily’s hand.” Ethan froze. I looked at him and let out a bitter smile. That piece of candy — it was the one he’d pressed into my palm the day our parents died in the car accident. His eyes had been red, and he’d been trying so hard to comfort me. “Grace, don’t cry. I’m here. I’ll take care of you for the rest of my life.” Ethan had only been a teenager back then. The weight of the whole family had crashed down on him without warning — and he still had little me to look after. It made sense that he’d forgotten. I shouldn’t have held onto it. I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned to bow deeply toward Lily, who lay in the hospital bed: “I’m sorry. I won’t try to take your brother away from you anymore.” Lily blinked, and her eyes slowly turned red. She looked like she was about to cry again: “Grace, I didn’t mean to step on that candy. Please don’t—” Without a word, I turned, picked up the kettle of just-boiled water on the bedside table, and poured it over my own right arm without hesitation. Searing pain exploded across my skin. Cold sweat instantly soaked through my shirt. I was shaking so hard I could barely breathe. “Is that enough?” The two of them were completely stunned by my sudden shift in behavior. It was Ethan who snapped out of it first. He lunged forward and grabbed my arm, shouting: “Grace, are you out of your mind?!” Before I could answer, he was already barking at the assistant standing by the door: “What are you standing there for? Get a doctor!” Something warm flickered through me. I watched the scene with quiet relief. Right now, Ethan still cared about me. The eyes he turned on me weren’t just cold and full of disgust. That was enough. Even if this love was never truly mine to keep. I still clung to the warmth of it. But before I could say another word, Lily grabbed the hem of Ethan’s shirt and sobbed: “Ethan, I know Grace wants all your attention for herself — but she shouldn’t be hurting herself on purpose.” Then she turned to me, crying and pleading: “Grace, you and Ethan are real siblings. I’m the outsider here. Please stop hurting yourself, okay?” Ethan’s expression grew noticeably cooler at her words. Seeing that, I quietly closed the mouth I’d been about to open. A second later, just as I expected, Ethan’s voice turned cold: “I actually let myself hope you’d changed. What a fool I was. You never change, do you? Are you really my sister? What kind of person even does this?” Those cruel words were nothing compared to what he’d said in my past life. I lowered my head in submission: “Fine. Whatever you say.” “You—!” Ethan’s jaw tightened. He raised his hand and pointed at me, unable to speak for a long moment. Then he turned to the assistant: “Take her to get her arm bandaged. And keep her away from Lily. She’s exhausting.” I nodded and quietly stepped out. But I didn’t go get bandaged. From the moment I’d come back, a familiar sharp pain had been radiating from my kidneys, spreading to every nerve ending in my body. The pain was so bad I could barely stay on my feet. Because this was the day. In my past life, this was the day the kidney disease had been discovered. Without a transplant, I had two weeks to live.

I’d been sick my whole life. Rare blood type on top of everything else — every illness felt like a coin flip between life and death. Once, during a surgery, I lost so much blood that the hospital’s supply ran out. Ethan searched like a man possessed and finally found an orphan who shared my blood type — Lily. Her blood saved my life. And just like that, she went from a penniless orphan to the adopted daughter of the Whitmore family, one of the wealthiest families in the country. But after that, Ethan changed. He stopped checking in on me. Stopped looking after me the way he used to. When Lily and I were both hurt at the same time, he wouldn’t even glance at me. He’d leave me where I fell and carry Lily — who was always less injured — straight to the hospital. I went crazy with jealousy. I resented her. I made her life difficult every chance I got. Between a sweet, gentle sister and a difficult, spiteful one, the choice was obvious. It didn’t take a genius to figure out which one Ethan would choose. But even through all my tantrums and acting out, I secretly believed that deep down, Ethan loved me most. The only reason he treated Lily so well was because she’d saved my life. I was wrong. Completely, catastrophically wrong. In my past life, after my kidney disease was diagnosed, Lily died on the operating table during the transplant surgery. I survived, against all odds. But from that day forward, Ethan looked at me with nothing but hatred. He said the cruelest things imaginable to me — as if we weren’t siblings at all, but bitter enemies with blood between us. This time, I don’t want things to end up that way. This time, I’d rather be the one who dies. Winter up north was brutal. The wind carried snow like razor blades, slicing across my face. The dull ache in my kidneys tangled with the sharp burn along my right arm until even breathing normally felt like a luxury I couldn’t afford. I hunched over, pulled my coat tight, and walked down the street. I’d been greedy just now. I came back to fulfill Ethan’s wish — a life where he only had one sister, Lily. I should leave. Now. That was what I was thinking when a car horn sounded beside me. The window rolled down, revealing Ethan’s cold expression: “Get in.” I started to refuse. But his bodyguard grabbed me before I could say a word and pushed me into the car. The heat inside was turned up high, but I still felt cold. To keep from looking out of the ordinary, I curled up against the window and stared silently at the streets rushing past outside. “You didn’t get it bandaged. What are you up to now?” Ethan’s voice was as cold as ice. “Playing the martyr didn’t work, so now you’re pulling back to move forward?” I was quiet for a moment. Then I turned and looked at him calmly: “Ethan, I mean it. From now on, you don’t have to be put in the middle because of me. I’m going to move out. I’ll stay far away from both of you.” He looked at me like I’d just said something laughable. The corner of his mouth curved into a thin, mocking smile: “Move out? Grace, everything you have came from this family. Without the Whitmores, without me, you’re nothing. How long do you think you’d last?” Not very long at all. I thought that, and looked down: “How long I last is my business.” “I know I’ve been out of line. I always thought that if I made enough noise, fought hard enough, you’d pay more attention to me. But I get it now. Some things aren’t mine to have. Lily saved my life — you loving her is right. And I… I shouldn’t have been in the way.” Ethan’s sharp gaze swept over me. He seemed to be searching my face for a crack — for the manipulation, the calculation he expected to find there. But what he found was a pile of cold, dead ash. Whatever had burned there before — the jealousy, the desperation, the aching need to hold onto him — it all seemed to have truly gone out. That unfamiliar stillness made him more unsettled than her outbursts ever had. “You think saying all that will make me go soft? You think I’ll suddenly believe you’ve grown up? Grace, I’ve seen every trick you have!” “I’m not playing tricks, Ethan.” My voice was quiet, carrying a faint, bone-deep exhaustion: “I’m just… tired. I don’t want to fight anymore. I just don’t want to…” I don’t want to go to Mom and Dad carrying your hatred.

The car passed through the sweeping gates of the Whitmore estate. I got out and walked directly to my room — the one tucked in the far corner of the house. It was large. Lavishly decorated. But there was no warmth in it. It felt like a beautiful cage. I started packing. I took only the bare essentials — a few changes of clothes, some cash, and an old photo album our parents had left behind, the one Ethan had probably long since forgotten existed. I’d just shoved everything into a worn backpack when the door swung open. Lily leaned in the doorway. Her left wrist was wrapped in fresh white bandaging, and her face was still a little pale. But her eyes carried the quiet, barely-there satisfaction of someone who’d already won. “Grace, are you really leaving?” Her voice was soft and gentle. “Did Ethan say something to upset you? Don’t be angry with him — he just cares about me so much. Even though you two are real siblings, Ethan still trusts me more, you know.” I watched her performance without a flicker of reaction. In my past life, words like that would have set me off like a match to gasoline. I would have gone for her, and then Ethan would have torn into me. But now, I just wanted out. “Move,” I said. Lily stepped forward instead, blocking my path. Her voice dropped until only the two of us could hear: “Grace, take a good look around. In this house, you’re nothing to Ethan. You staying here is just a joke. The sooner you get out, the better — for everyone.” I ignored her and tried to step around her. That was when Lily let out a sudden scream. Her right hand moved — from somewhere, she’d produced a small fruit knife — and before I could blink, she dragged the blade hard across her own left forearm. Blood welled up immediately. “Grace! What are you doing?!” She shrieked, stumbling backward, face twisted in shock and disbelief. “I already apologized to you! Why do you keep hurting me?!” Footsteps thundered down the hall. Ethan appeared in the doorway, his face dark. He took in the blood on Lily’s arm. He took in me standing over her with my backpack. He took in the fruit knife lying on the floor. Three seconds of frozen silence. Ethan didn’t ask a single question. Fury tore through his expression, and he raised his hand and struck me hard across the face. Time stopped. The burn along my arm, the grinding ache in my kidneys — all of it vanished. Only the fire on my cheek remained. This was the first time — in two lifetimes — that he’d ever laid a hand on me. It hurt more than every other injury on my body combined. Even at his worst in my past life, when the cruelest things had come out of his mouth, he’d never hit me. So he really did love Lily that much. I stood there, dazed, thinking that with something strangely close to peace. “Grace!” Ethan froze too. His hand trembled for a long moment before words finally forced their way through his teeth: “I actually let myself believe, for one second, that maybe you had changed! I’m an idiot. A leopard doesn’t change its spots. How black is your heart? What has Lily ever done to you? Why do you keep hurting her, over and over again? She saved your life!” The familiar accusations, the cutting words — like poison-tipped needles, one after another, straight into the softest part of me. I’d prepared for this. I’d told myself to go numb. But hearing Ethan speak to me with such naked hatred still sent a sharp, blinding pain through my chest. My legs nearly buckled. My vision went dark at the edges. I looked at his handsome face, twisted slightly with rage. I looked at Lily crying softly behind him, her eyes briefly flicking to mine with a gleam of triumph she couldn’t quite hide. And I felt something settle in me — a terrible, quiet clarity. Explain? He wouldn’t believe me. In his mind, I’d been beyond redemption for a long time. That was fine. I drew a slow breath. I swallowed the metallic taste rising in my throat and the sting behind my eyes. I gathered what was left of my strength and pulled my arm free. Then I bent down and picked up the small knife from the floor — the one still wet with Lily’s blood. Ethan’s eyes narrowed: “What do you think you’re doing?” I turned the knife around and pressed the handle into his hand. I made him close his fingers around it. Cold metal against his palm. And in its surface, a reflection — my face, white as paper. I stepped forward until I was almost pressed against his chest. I tilted my head back and looked up into his furious eyes. My voice came out soft and unsteady, like a dry leaf in the wind, ready to fall. “Ethan. You hate me this much. You think I hurt your Lily.” “Then make it right for her. Okay?” Before he could react, before he even understood what I meant, I lunged forward. Thud. The dull, sickening sound of a blade sinking into flesh.

Agony detonated below my right shoulder blade and swept through my entire body in an instant. I felt the cold metal enter me — felt it tear through muscle — and with it came a deep, bone-level chill that felt like the edge of death. Time stopped. The fury on Ethan’s face locked up. It became shock. Pure, total shock. He let go on instinct, but the knife was still in my shoulder. Blood soaked through my thin shirt fast, a spreading stain that was almost hard to look at. Lily’s crying cut off completely. She stood there with her mouth open, frozen. “Gr… Grace?” Ethan’s voice came out cracked and barely there. He stared at his own bloodied hand, then back at my face, which was draining of color by the second. Something appeared in his eyes that I’d never seen there before — a vast, near-panicked fracturing. I looked at him, and I thought about the one thing I hadn’t said out loud. This is to cancel the debt. The one from our last life — when you threw yourself in front of every bullet meant for me. After this, we’re even. But the cold spreading from the blood loss made it impossible to speak. My body slid downward. “Grace—!!!” Ethan let out a sound that didn’t seem like it could come from a human throat. He caught me as I went down, his hands scrambling frantically to press against the wound — and then pulling back, afraid to touch the knife. His arms were shaking. His whole body was shaking. “Get a doctor! Call an ambulance! NOW!” He was screaming at the frozen housekeeper and assistant, his eyes red, every trace of the cold, controlled man he’d always been completely gone. Only terror remained. When I came back to consciousness, I was in a hospital room that smelled heavily of antiseptic. My shoulder was wrapped in thick bandages. A dull, constant ache pulsed through it. But stronger than that was the familiar, crushing weight inside my body — that deep, systemic exhaustion I recognized. So it’s here. Just like I knew it would be. The room was quiet. From beyond the door, I could make out muffled arguing. Ethan and Lily. “…I’m asking you one more time. That knife — did she use it to cut you? Or did you do it yourself?” Ethan’s voice was low, but it carried the still, heavy pressure of a storm about to break. “Ethan… you’re doubting me? How could you doubt me? It’s Grace who hates me — she’s always hated me for taking you away from her—” Lily dissolved into sobs. “I only believe what I actually saw. Grace acts out, yeah — but she’s never gone this far with herself before. Lily. Don’t lie to me.” Ethan’s voice had taken on a quality I’d never heard from him — a cold, quiet ferocity that was somehow more frightening than shouting. “If I find out you did… I’ll destroy you.” Lily stumbled back a step, the color draining from her face. She couldn’t get another word out. Ethan’s footsteps moved away. He stepped out onto the balcony and smoked a cigarette before he trusted himself to feel anything clearly. When Grace had gone limp in his arms — barely breathing, barely there — he’d finally understood what it felt like for his heart to stop. “Look into it,” he said, his voice rough. He turned to his assistant: “The door to Grace’s room was open. The hallway camera should have had a clear angle into the room. Pull the footage.”

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At the New Moon Festival, during the Hailmark pack’s tribal banquet, my Alpha husband Gareth had his arm around his first love Fiona as they ate together. Gareth wouldn’t let me sit down. He made me stand on the side to serve them, pouring drinks and passing food. I said to him, “Let’s get divorced.” He replied absentmindedly: “Just because I asked you to serve us? How long are you going to stay mad this time?” Three years of marriage, and he never believed I would actually leave him. But this time, I had really made up my mind. Because just a few minutes ago, I received a message from Alpha King Jasper: [I’ll come pick you up after I finish this interview. Should be around midnight.] I immediately replied: [Okay] At the tribal banquet on New Moon Festival day, Gareth pushed me aside without a second thought and told me to go greet the pack members. He fussed over everyone’s seating, then pulled Fiona to sit beside him. With so many people at the banquet, there was no seat for me alone. I could only help out from the sidelines. Seeing my anger, Gareth said: “I just asked you to help out a bit. Are you satisfied now?” “Could you pour me some water too?” Fiona interrupted our conversation and naturally sat down next to Gareth. Seeing my expression darken, she immediately asked, “What’s wrong? Gareth, did you upset Luna Violet again?” Gareth pursed his lips but said nothing. Fiona immediately started trying to smooth things over. “Luna Violet, don’t be angry with him. I should be the one pouring water for everyone.” I let out a cold laugh. “You like my husband so much, you even had to sit next to him today. I might as well just hand him over to you.” Fiona bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes. “How can you say that? You’ve misunderstood. Even though Gareth and I dated before, that’s all in the past. Gareth and I are just friends now.” Gareth glanced at me reproachfully: “If you have an issue, take it out on me. Why are you provoking her? If you want a divorce, fine, get divorced. No need to drag other people into this.” Gareth patted Fiona and took her outside to clear her head. We discussed divorce so carelessly. It wasn’t like this when we first started dating. Back then, Gareth and I fell in love at first sight. I was Gareth’s fated mate, and after meeting me, he immediately broke up with Fiona. But Fiona’s father was a high-ranking Beta in Hailmark pack, so even after the breakup, they still had plenty of contact. I still remember what Gareth said at our wedding: “From now on, I’ll only love you.” But looking at it now, Gareth’s vows couldn’t be trusted at all. After the banquet ended, Gareth’s old friends had a party planned. I didn’t want to affect everyone because of our issues, so I forced myself to go. When I reached the door, the friends were complaining about me. “Is Violet not coming? Did you two have a fight?” Someone laughed awkwardly. “Getting mad over this? Someone had to help out at the gathering. Isn’t Violet being too sensitive?” “Seriously. If I were looking for a partner, I’d rather find someone easy-going who doesn’t make a fuss all the time. Hey, someone like Fiona would be perfect.” Gareth seemed to sigh. “What can I do? That’s just her temper. I spoiled her, so I have to deal with it.” Someone laughed. “You should still stand your ground when you need to, or you won’t have any say in the future.” Fiona said: “Luna Violet is so lucky. If someone pampered me like this, I wouldn’t dream of fighting with him.” Gareth’s friends immediately started egging them on. “Then let Gareth pamper you today.” “Really? We’re finally all together. Can you give me a New Moon Festival gift? Honey?” she asked jokingly. I heard Gareth answer her with a laugh. “I already prepared a New Moon Festival gift for you.” Then Gareth reminded everyone. “You can joke around, but don’t say anything in front of Violet.” I let go of the doorknob. The laughter inside sounded so sharp. Gareth knew very well that I minded him being ambiguous with other people. He said he was afraid of me getting angry, yet he let Fiona call him honey in front of everyone and even prepared a New Moon Festival gift for her. It was simply because he was so certain that after getting angry for a bit, I would ultimately forgive him. But this time, he miscalculated. Soon after, Fiona updated her social media status: “Received Gareth’s New Moon Festival gift. It feels so good to be cherished!” In the photo, she and Gareth had their fingers intertwined. The bracelet on her wrist sparkled brightly. I ultimately didn’t push open the door to join their party. Instead, I called my dad, the Alpha of Soulgnaw pack. “Dad, I want to come back to Soulgnaw pack.” He paused, somewhat surprised. “Really? You haven’t been back in so long. Did something happen between you and Gareth?” I held back my emotions, not letting him hear my sadness. “I miss you. I’m planning to develop my career in Soulgnaw pack. I’ll stay there and keep you company from now on.” My dad instantly heard the dejection in my voice, but he didn’t call me out on it. “I support all your choices. Should I come pick you up?” Hearing my dad’s indulgent voice, my heart settled down. “No need. Someone’s coming to get me.”

When Gareth came home with Fiona, I was watching TV with other pack members. “Luna Violet, you and Alpha Gareth have been married for three years now, right? Shouldn’t you start thinking about having a child?” “Exactly. Have one soon.” Gareth’s mother picked up the conversation: “Violet had some physical issues before, so she couldn’t get pregnant. Recently she’s been drinking quite a bit of potion specially prepared for her by a witch. She should be able to conceive soon.” At that moment, Alpha King Jasper appeared on the TV. I looked up sharply, and that familiar face appeared on the TV screen. The reporter interviewed Jasper: “Who will you spend the New Moon Festival with?” Jasper smiled warmly: “Of course with the most important person!” Gareth’s mother couldn’t help but exclaim, “The Alpha King is so handsome.” Fiona picked up the thread. “The Alpha King is many girls’ dream man.” They didn’t know that the person Jasper was meeting tonight was me. Long ago, Gareth also said I was the most important person to him. When I first married Gareth, he took me traveling to various places every day and prepared all my birthday gifts from birth to age twenty. Gareth said, “I don’t want to be absent from any of your past days.” But last year on my birthday, he was absent. That day Fiona got sick, and he was busy taking her to the hospital, staying with her until very late before coming home. At night, when he saw the unopened cake on the table, he realized he’d forgotten my birthday. That was the first time we fought. Later, our friction grew more and more. Gareth always complained that I was too sensitive and jealous, that I couldn’t even tolerate a first love. Time and again, he left me to accompany Fiona moving, celebrating holidays, seeing doctors. My phone vibrating pulled me back from my thoughts. Someone at the gathering pulled out their phone and showed me a photo, asking if the person in it was me. It was Jasper’s just-posted Ins: [Every moment with you is happy.] In the attached group photo of volunteers, I was standing right next to Jasper. In front of us were a group of orphanage children we were visiting. Before I could respond, Gareth chimed in from the side: “How is that possible? She just looks similar. How could Violet possibly appear in the Alpha King’s photo? Impossible.” Looking at his flustered appearance, I even found it somewhat laughable. While speaking, he accidentally knocked over a wine glass on the table, wetting his pants. Fiona quickly pulled out some tissues and without thinking began gently wiping his leg. Gareth awkwardly cleared his throat, and only then did she stop. I laughed lightly. “Why don’t you just wash them for him?” Fiona’s face turned red instantly. “What are you saying? I broke up with Gareth long ago. I only think of Gareth as a brother now. Don’t overthink it.” I ignored her and just explained briefly from the side. I’d been doing volunteer work at the orphanage before and happened to run into the Alpha King who came to participate in his monthly charity activities. The scene got even livelier. “Oh my god, Violet actually met the Alpha King in person!” “How tall and handsome is he in real life? I want to know!” I got scared and didn’t dare say much more. Just then, Jasper sent me a message: [Interview’s done. I’m heading to the airport. I’ll come find you soon.]

During dinner, Fiona acted coquettishly toward Gareth: “Gareth, pass me the lemonade.” Then I saw the bracelet on Fiona’s wrist. I said sarcastically: “Pretty bracelet! Gareth gave it to you?” Fiona said somewhat awkwardly, “It’s not expensive. If you like it, I’ll give it to you.” Gareth stopped Fiona: “This is my gift to you. How can you give it to her?” Then he turned to me and said: “Violet, what New Moon Festival gift do you want? Anything at all, just name it.” Fiona suddenly tugged at Gareth’s arm and shouted: “Oh no, what time is it? Are we late? We made plans with friends to rush to the square together to make wishes in front of the Moon Goddess statue. Shouldn’t we go?” Gareth’s eyes flickered, and he stammered an explanation to me: “I promised friends earlier we’d go together. If you’re not tired, you can come with us.” Fiona got anxious. “Luna Violet doesn’t even know those friends. Wouldn’t it be awkward for her to go?” I laughed coldly and declined the invitation. Gareth patted my head, like soothing a loyal little dog. “True. It’s pretty cold outside. Just wait for me at home. I’ll buy you a gift.” Fiona came up to me, then deliberately showed me what was in her bag. She said with a smile, “Don’t worry, Luna Violet. I’ll take good care of Gareth.” Gareth urged Fiona along, then drove off with her. I sat in front of the TV and finished watching Jasper’s program before going back to my room to print the divorce agreement. Jasper called. I said softly, “See you at the airport.”

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After my daughter Jessica was pulled by her pigtails for the third time by a boy at kindergarten, the teacher once again chose to sweep it under the rug. Angry and anxious, I directly taught Jessica: “Next time that Zack bullies you again, you have to learn to fight back!” Jessica nodded seriously, then fell into a deep sleep. Before bed, I also decided to personally go to the kindergarten the next day to teach that boy a lesson. But that very night, I had a nightmare. In the dream, I pushed that boy off the 36th floor. The sound of him hitting the ground was like a watermelon smashing on concrete. Jolting awake from the nightmare, my phone lit up. There were many messages in the parents’ group chat. I clicked it open, and the first message made my blood run cold: “Zack jumped from the 36th floor. He’s dead.” “Zack’s mom Katie says it wasn’t suicide—someone pushed him.” “Did you guys hear the police sirens?” When I saw this message, the image of myself pushing Zack Harper off the 36th floor involuntarily flashed through my mind. But I knew very clearly that it was just an absurd dream. How could it possibly happen in real life?

But the parents’ group chat was already in chaos. Bella’s mom: [Are you guys joking?! It’s midnight now, how could that child be pushed from the 36th floor?!] Jordan’s mom: [Who would joke about something like this! Katie and I live in the same complex, the police cars and ambulances all came…] Then Jordan’s mom posted a high-definition photo. When I saw the image of Zack lying in a pool of blood, my heart suddenly stopped. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing! In the image, Zack was wearing the same grass-green basketball uniform I’d seen in my dream. Although in my dream I had pushed him, it was just a dream. He had only pulled my Jessica’s pigtails—I couldn’t possibly kill him over something like that. I told myself this was all just a coincidence. The next day, I sent Jessica to kindergarten as usual. Zack’s seat was empty, but the other children didn’t seem affected by what happened. It seemed they didn’t yet know that Zack had completely disappeared from this world. Before leaving the kindergarten, Miss Foster stopped me: “Nina, you said yesterday that you had something to discuss with me today. What was it about?” I felt a bit awkward, since just yesterday I’d been planning to teach Zack a good lesson today. But now that he was already dead, what could I possibly complain about? So I could only explain: “It’s nothing now. I just wanted to ask about Zack…” Miss Foster sighed: “Katie came by this morning and took all of Zack’s belongings home.” “She was extremely agitated, saying that if she finds the murderer, she’ll definitely get revenge for her son!” I felt inexplicably guilty: “Why is she so certain someone else pushed him? Could it have been an accident where Zack fell by himself?” “Why would a five-year-old child suddenly run to the rooftop! And the police detected the killer’s fingerprints on Zack’s clothes—they’ve preliminarily determined it was someone he knew.” The words “someone he knew” immediately put me at ease. Although I’d met Zack, I wasn’t familiar with his family. I didn’t even know which complex they lived in, which building, which unit. Miss Foster continued: “Even if it’s someone he knew, it won’t be easy to find. That child was so naughty—bullying kids at kindergarten, bullying elderly neighbors at home. If he provoked someone petty, they really might have killed him.” Thinking about it, that made sense. If he hadn’t bullied my Jessica multiple times, I wouldn’t have thought about going to the kindergarten to settle accounts with him. And of course, I never would have had such an outrageous dream. After confirming this matter had nothing to do with me, I brought Jessica home. But as soon as we got home, the first thing she said was: “Mommy, why did you push Zack off the building?”

Her words scared me pale: “Jessica, what—what are you saying?” Seeing her confused expression, I continued asking: “Tell Mommy, why would you ask that?” Jessica tilted her head, looking innocent: “Mommy, you said it yourself last night when you were dreaming.” I crouched down and gripped her shoulders tightly: “What Mommy says in her dreams, you can’t take it seriously, and you can’t tell anyone, understand?” After she nodded seriously, she suddenly lowered her head with an extremely aggrieved look: “Mommy, Zack didn’t come to school today, and Lily said it was my fault.” “Now none of the kids in class want to play with me anymore…” “That’s too much!” I immediately sent a message to Miss Foster. She said she would definitely have Lily apologize to Jessica in front of the whole class tomorrow. Looking at Jessica’s dejected appearance, I encouraged her: “Jessica, when you encounter something like this, you must speak up right away!” “Whether she meant it or not, her behavior hurt you, so we must be brave and stand up for ourselves!” Hearing my words, her eyes instantly lit up. “Mommy, I’ll remember.” At eight o’clock that night, after I put Jessica to sleep, I gradually fell asleep too. I just didn’t expect I would dream about Jessica’s kindergarten classmate—Lily. I had a deep impression of this little girl. Because she was the tallest girl in the entire senior class. Jessica had mentioned that she and Zack were good friends. So when Zack didn’t come to school today, she took all her anger out on Jessica. In the dream, I was completely out of control. Under the pitch-black night, I quietly walked into Lily Sweet’s room. Then I threw her out the tenth-floor window. “Ahh…” I screamed in terror, jolting awake from the dream. I had killed someone in a dream again! The dream was so real, yet so bizarre! Jessica beside me was also awakened by my scream: “Mommy, are you okay…” After taking a deep breath, I told Jessica I was fine, then quickly opened the parents’ group chat on my phone. Fortunately, there were no messages inside. I must have been affected by Zack’s incident, which is why I had this kind of dream. But because of this dream, I couldn’t fall back asleep that night. I just stared at the parents’ group chat on my phone, watching it until daybreak. Thankfully, the thing I feared never happened. But the next day when I took Jessica to kindergarten, I ran right into Lily’s mother. She was disheveled, standing at the kindergarten gate like a shrew, crying out: “My daughter died last night! Someone threw her out the tenth-floor window!” “First Zack, now my daughter—there’s no such thing as coincidence. It must be someone from the kindergarten!”

Lily was dead too! What on earth was going on! I thought of that dream again. If once was a coincidence, what about twice? Why did I kill Zack and Lily in my dreams, and in reality they died the same way? Faced with Lily’s mother making a scene, Miss Foster was also helpless: “I completely understand how you feel right now, but our kindergarten teachers have no reason to harm their own students, and the police have also ruled out our kindergarten as suspects.” A mother who had lost her child couldn’t care about any of that. She cried hysterically, looking viciously at everyone present: “Even if it wasn’t your kindergarten teachers, what about these parents? Have they been cleared of suspicion?” Someone protested: “This whole thing is too strange! The killer couldn’t have entered your home silently and killed your daughter, right!” “As long as they’re human, they would leave some traces, right!” “What about your home surveillance? The fingerprints on the locks, footprints on the floor, and fingerprints on the child’s body—don’t any of these exist?” His analysis was logical, but Lily’s mother’s expression went blank: “There’s only one faint fingerprint on the child’s clothes. The police are still investigating…” Two children had died in the same bizarre way. No one knew the killer’s motive. Except for one fingerprint, the police had no other usable evidence. This was like looking for a needle in a haystack—who knew how long it would take to find the killer. However, the police learned from Miss Foster that these two children were good friends, so they preliminarily determined the killer was the same person. After the day’s events, I immediately checked my home surveillance when I got home. Although I killed people in my dreams! The surveillance showed that after I fell asleep, I never left the bedroom. As long as I had this evidence, it could prove their deaths had nothing to do with me. But in the afternoon, the teacher still called me to the school with one phone call. The entire classroom was chaotic. Jessica was crying, while the other children kept cursing: “Jessica Anderson’s mom killed people!” “Jessica Anderson’s mom killed people!” I pulled Jessica into my arms. After Miss Foster arrived, I finally learned what had happened. She handed me a drawing: “Nina, this was found in Jessica’s backpack. I think you need to see this.” I tremblingly opened the drawing, and my anxious heart finally cracked. Jessica had actually drawn my dream of killing Lily! Whether it was the blue pajamas Lily wore before she died or that pink window, everything matched the dream. As if she had witnessed it herself. I was too shocked to speak. I finally understood why the children were shouting “Jessica Anderson’s mom killed people!” But I really didn’t kill anyone! Miss Foster quickly comforted me: “Nina, don’t be nervous. I asked Jessica about it. She said this drawing was based on a dream.” Just as I was about to speak, Katie and Lily’s mother burst in with the police: “Officer, this is Jessica Anderson’s mother. We suspect she’s the one who killed our children!”

Because of that drawing, I was taken to the police station. They didn’t believe my explanation at all: “Stop making excuses! If it was really a dream, why do the blue pajamas and pink window in the drawing match my home exactly? We never made these details public.” This was indeed a doubt I couldn’t clear up. Killing in dreams—I couldn’t understand it myself. But I was certain that in reality, I hadn’t killed anyone. I provided my home surveillance and the complex’s surveillance: “On the two days your children were killed, I had solid alibis! Although your children bullied my Jessica, I’m not deranged enough to kill them over that!” After the police verified my evidence, they finally released me. After returning home, I didn’t dare sleep at all. I was afraid I would have that strange killing dream again. But when I stayed up until 3 AM, my eyelids still closed uncontrollably. I had another dream… In the dream, I kidnapped all the children who had mocked Jessica during the day and locked them in an abandoned underground parking garage. Their sobbing and crying viciously stimulated my heart, and I woke up because of it. But then I discovered something even more terrifying— Jessica was gone. My husband and I searched every room but couldn’t find her. She had vanished like she’d evaporated. Just as my husband and I were about to go out looking for her, the police and a group of parents rushed into our home. “Nina! Did you kidnap our children!” “Nina, give us our children back!” I instinctively defended myself: “It wasn’t me! Jessica is missing too!” As soon as I finished speaking, someone discovered a drawing by Jessica’s bed. “You still want to deny it? Your evil deeds have all been drawn by Jessica! You really did kidnap our children!” Everyone surrounded me demanding an explanation. Lily’s mother rushed up and started hitting me: “Stop making excuses! Lily only had a conflict with Jessica. Who else could it be but you!” I was powerless to resist. That drawing seemed to seal my guilt completely. To investigate the case, the police still took me to the station. I said it was just a dream, but they didn’t believe me. They forced me to reveal where the children were being held, but how would I know? When I appeared in the dream, I was already in that abandoned underground parking garage. Although the police didn’t believe my “dream theory,” they still patiently guided me: “Right now, this concerns the lives of over a dozen children, possibly including Jessica. Our only lead is you and that so-called dream. Think carefully again—did that underground parking garage have any distinctive features?” I closed my eyes and recalled that bizarre dream once more. Five minutes later, I opened my eyes wide: “I saw writing on the underground parking garage… it said Riverside… it’s Riverside Complex.” After I provided this lead, the police immediately dispatched people to Riverside Complex. After thirty minutes of searching, we finally found the 15 missing children in a storage room. I wanted to rush over and hug Jessica, but she retreated in fear: “Mommy… don’t come near me. I’m scared.” Then the other children burst into tears the moment they saw me: “Bad person, go away! Bad person, go away…” Lily’s mother rushed over and slapped me: “The children all say you’re the one who kidnapped them. What else do you have to say! Why did you kill Lily… give me back my daughter’s life…” My eyes were full of tears. I could only weakly explain over and over: “I really didn’t hurt your children. It was just a dream. I really don’t know what’s going on…” Katie threw an identification report in my face: “The fingerprint report from Zack’s body is out. It matches your fingerprints exactly! You’re the killer who murdered them!” Looking at that report stamped with a red seal, my heart sank to the bottom. The police had already handcuffed my wrists. But the next second, I spotted critical information on the identification report: “Officer! I’m not the killer. I already know who the real killer is!”

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The first time I caught Falcon cheating was one month before our wedding. I called off the engagement on the spot and packed my things to go back to my parents’ house. But he refused to let go. He knelt in the snow outside my building for an entire night. “Lewis, I lost my mind for a moment. If you don’t forgive me, I’ll kill myself.” Looking at his lips, purple from the cold, I chose to forgive him. For five years after the wedding, he treated me with even more tenderness and care, as if none of it had ever happened. Until our fifth wedding anniversary, when I cooked dinner at home and waited for him. That woman , the one who had sex with Falcon in his car , suddenly showed up at our door. She was holding a four-year-old girl in her arms. “Where’s Falcon? He promised to take our daughter to the amusement park today. What, is he playing the perfect husband in front of you again?” The ladle in my hand clattered to the floor. Scalding soup splashed across the back of my hand, leaving a bright red burn. My mind felt like it had been struck by a sledgehammer , completely blank. Four years ago, Falcon had pinned Katherine in his car, reckless and frantic. When I caught them, he swore on the spot that he’d been drunk and mistook her for me. He promised he’d paid Katherine off and made her leave the city for good. But now, Katherine was standing right in front of me , with a little girl who looked seventy percent like Falcon. Which meant that when Falcon was kneeling in the snow begging me to forgive him, Katherine was already pregnant. These five years , what I believed was a changed man , had been nothing but a lie from start to finish. Katherine looked at my stunned face, and a mocking smile curled at the corner of her lips. “For the past five years, whenever Falcon went on those ‘business trips’ to the next city, he was actually spending time with us.” “Every night after he said goodnight to you, he’d put Anna to bed.” “Lewis, you’ve had him to yourself for five years. Now that Anna’s starting preschool, it’s time for you to step aside.” The little girl in her arms blinked her big eyes and called out in a sweet, babyish voice: “Mommy, I want Daddy. Daddy promised to take me on the Ferris wheel today.” I stared at that child, my stomach twisting violently. Just then, I heard the door lock turn. Falcon walked in, holding the Black Forest cake I loved most. “Lewis, sorry I’m late , there was something urgent at the office that came up…” His words died the moment he saw Katherine and the little girl. The cake slipped from his hands and hit the floor, the beautiful box crumpling on impact. “Falcon!” Katherine’s eyes went red the moment she saw him, and she called his name with a wounded cry. Falcon’s face went pale. He looked at me in a panic: “Lewis, let me explain…” He rushed toward me, reaching for my hand. I shoved him away. His eyes reddened. He spoke urgently: “Lewis, I really didn’t know she was pregnant! She only showed up with the kid a few days ago!” “I didn’t lie to you , I swear I had no contact with her these past five years!” Katherine laughed coldly from the side. “Falcon, that’s pretty low, even for you. Just two days ago, at Anna’s parent-teacher conference, you told everyone you’d give her a real family.” Falcon spun around and glared at Katherine. “Shut up! Who told you to come here!” Katherine shrank back from his outburst. The child in her arms burst into frightened wails. Falcon heard the crying and instinctively furrowed his brow. A flash of pain crossed his eyes.

“Lewis, the child is innocent.” Falcon turned back to me, his voice edged with pleading. “I admit it , I’ve known about Anna for a while. But I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to overthink things.” “I’ve already been making arrangements to send them abroad. I promise they’ll never appear in front of you again.” I watched him perform his little act with cold detachment. “Didn’t want me to overthink? Falcon, do you think I’m an idiot?” I walked to the living room, grabbed his briefcase, and dumped everything inside onto the floor. Besides documents, there were two VIP annual passes to an amusement park, and a tuition payment receipt from a preschool. The payment date was two weeks ago. In the signature line, Falcon’s name was written clear as day. “You hid this so well.” Falcon stared at the receipt on the floor. The color drained from his face. He looked away, unable to meet my eyes. “I want a divorce.” I said it calmly. No screaming, no hysteria , just a deep, bone-tired exhaustion. “Lewis.” Falcon grabbed both my shoulders. “I’ll send them away tomorrow. I’ll give you everything , all the money. Please don’t leave me…” Maybe five years ago, I would have softened. But now, I felt nothing but disgust. I shoved him away with all my strength. “Falcon, I already gave you one chance five years ago.” “I will never, for as long as I live, forgive someone who betrays me twice.” I turned and walked into the bedroom to pack my things. Falcon followed me in. He grabbed the clothes out of my hands and screamed, his eyes red: “Lewis! Can you just calm down for one second!” “I’m just trying to be a father , is that so wrong?” I looked at his self-righteous expression and let out a short, bitter laugh. “There’s nothing wrong with being a father. But you had no right to drag me into it.” “Since you love your daughter so much, go build your little family of three with them.” I stepped past him and walked out with just a few pieces of clothing. Katherine stood in the living room with the child in her arms, a victor’s triumph glowing in her eyes. I stopped as I passed her. “No need to rush claiming your territory. This trash , I don’t want it anymore. Help yourself.” Then I walked out of the home I had lived in for five years, without looking back. As the door shut behind me, I heard Falcon call my name in desperate despair from inside. But I didn’t turn around.

I didn’t go back to my parents’ house. The last time I called off the engagement, five years ago, they had worried themselves sick over me. After that, when Falcon became such a devoted husband, my parents couldn’t stop telling everyone what a wonderful man I had married. Telling them the truth now , I genuinely worried it would be too much for them to bear. I checked into a hotel. I had just finished showering when Falcon’s mother, Bonnie, called. When the call connected, she didn’t greet me with her usual warmth. She got straight to the point. “Lewis, Falcon told me everything. Where are you right now? We need to meet.” Half an hour later, I met Falcon’s mother at the coffee shop in the hotel lobby. She was dressed in a well-tailored blazer, her face flawlessly maintained, carrying the faint air of someone looking down from a height. “Lewis, this is Falcon’s fault. I’m apologizing on his behalf.” She slid a bank card across the table toward me. “There’s two hundred thousand dollars in there. Consider it compensation.” I looked at the card and felt a strange urge to laugh. “And what exactly does this mean? You’re paying me to keep quiet?” Bonnie lifted her coffee and took a calm sip. “You’re a smart girl. Falcon is the only son in the Patterson family , he can’t be without an heir.” “You and Falcon have been married five years, and you haven’t been able to get pregnant. That worries me too, honestly.” “Anna is the Patterson heir. I can’t allow her to grow up without a family.” My fingers clenched involuntarily, nails pressing hard into my palm. So five years of not conceiving had become their justification , their righteous excuse , to welcome an illegitimate child into the fold. What they didn’t know was that the reason I hadn’t gotten pregnant was because Falcon said he wanted more time for just the two of us. “So what you’re saying is , you want me to accept that child and stay married to Falcon?” Bonnie exhaled softly. “Falcon does love you. He promised me , if you’re willing to accept Anna, he will never have any contact with Katherine again. You’d still be Falcon’s wife. Anna would call you Mom. What’s so bad about that?” I looked at this woman , the woman I had called Mom for five years , and felt a chill settle over my entire body. In their eyes, I was nothing more than a piece on their board, to be moved however they liked. “I won’t play mother to Falcon’s illegitimate child. Please tell Falcon , Monday morning, nine o’clock, City Hall.” I turned and left. As I reached the door, Bonnie called out from behind me, her voice cool: “Lewis, don’t be so stubborn. After a divorce, who’s going to want you? You’re not getting any younger.” I ignored her and walked out into the night. — The next day, I went to work as usual. The moment I got to my desk, my stomach lurched and I gagged a few times. My coworker Prince handed me a cup of warm water with a concerned look. “Lewis, you look terrible. Did you eat something bad?” I shook my head, but a quiet unease was already taking root inside me. During my lunch break, I slipped away to the hospital. The moment I got my test results, my whole body went rigid. Six weeks pregnant. Of all the times , I was carrying Falcon’s child. Looking at the tiny gestational sac on the ultrasound image, my tears fell without warning. This baby had come at the worst possible time. My phone rang. Falcon. I declined the call and blocked his number.

I arrived with the finalized divorce papers, intending to go back and collect the important documents I’d left behind. But when I pushed open the door, I froze. Alongside Falcon’s shoes in the entryway were two other pairs , one adult’s, one child’s. He had actually brought Katherine and her daughter into our home, bold as you please. Just then, Katherine walked out, holding Anna’s hand. Before I could say a word, Anna suddenly broke into violent coughing. Then she collapsed to the floor, gasping, and angry red hives erupted rapidly across her arms. “Anna! What’s wrong!” Katherine screamed and threw herself down beside the girl. She locked her eyes on me, tears streaming, and pointed an accusing finger: “Lewis! Did you give Anna the nut candy? You know she has a severe nut allergy! Why would you do something like that to a child!” I let out a cold laugh. “I never touched her. Stop making things up.” Falcon came running at the commotion. A flicker of panic , and something else, something like relief , crossed his face. Then he noticed the child, and his expression hardened instantly into fury: “Lewis, I never knew you could be this vicious!” I was about to deny it, but Falcon wasn’t listening. He grabbed me and snatched a mango from the table, shoving it toward my face. After five years of marriage, he knew better than anyone that mangoes were deadly to me. Even the slightest contact with the juice could trigger a severe allergic reaction , severe airway swelling. But in this moment, the eyes that looked at me held nothing but hatred and cruelty. “Since you can’t stand this child, let’s see how you like the feeling yourself!” He grabbed my jaw and forced the mango into my mouth. I thrashed and fought with everything I had, finally shoving him away, and crashed to the floor. Almost instantly, my throat began to swell. Breathing became nearly impossible , like a thousand needles stabbing into my airway. The suffocation hit like a wave. My whole body convulsed. Cold sweat soaked through my clothes. Then a savage cramping pain tore through my lower abdomen. I curled up on the floor in agony, one hand clawing at Falcon’s pants leg. I forced the words out through my constricting throat, barely a whisper. “Falcon… help me… I’m pregnant…” His body went still. A second later, Katherine screamed and sobbed: “She’s faking it! She hasn’t gotten pregnant in five years , why would she suddenly be pregnant now? She’s lying to you!” Falcon looked down at me convulsing on the floor, his expression ice-cold. “Pregnant? Lewis, you’d really make up something this pathetic just for sympathy?” He kicked my hand off his pants leg, his voice dripping with contempt and disgust. “A little mango won’t kill you. At most you’ll learn your lesson. But if something happens to Anna , I swear you’ll pay for it.” Then he bent down, scooped Anna into his arms, and walked out. The front door slammed shut. I opened my mouth, gasping, but not a trace of air would come in. Darkness pulsed at the edges of my vision. The pain in my abdomen was getting worse. Something warm was flowing down my legs. I closed my eyes in despair, and my consciousness sank into an endless dark.

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That evening, we were at a party at a friend’s villa. Diego, my husband, had his phone mirrored onto a screen the size of an entire wall, playing a movie. While he stepped away to grab our food delivery, a private message notification suddenly popped up at the top of the screen. The moment it opened, the entire room went dead silent. It was a sex video. The man in the video was Diego. The woman was my best friend, Sophia. Everyone scrambled to smooth things over, claiming it was one of those AI deepfake pranks that had been trending lately. I laughed it off awkwardly. I didn’t believe a single word. Because in the corner of the video, I could clearly see my golden retriever wagging his tail. Around his neck was a custom collar , the one I had just bought for him last week. A limited-edition piece I’d picked up at a pet expo. So it turned out that out of twenty people in that room, I was the only fool. Fine. If you all love putting on a show so much, then I’ll give you a stage , live-streamed to the entire internet.

“Chloe, don’t be mad , this was seriously just a prank!” The atmosphere in the massive first-floor living room of the villa had become unbearably strange. The giant hundred-inch projection screen, which should have been playing a comedy, was now frozen on an image that made everyone’s blood run hot. A dim bedroom. Tangled sheets. A man and a woman, naked, wrapped up in each other. The man was Diego , my husband of two years, the man I’d been with for five. The woman was Sophia , my best friend of ten years. Just half a minute ago, Diego’s phone had been mirrored to the screen playing the movie. He’d gotten up to grab the food delivery at the door. Then his phone buzzed with a notification, and just like that, a video from his hidden photo album played itself out in front of all twenty-something of us , completely unguarded, completely exposed. Silence. A silence that stretched on for over ten seconds. Then Wallace , the one who had organized the party, and also Sophia’s boyfriend , suddenly lunged forward and yanked the screen-mirroring cable out of the port. He burst into a fit of exaggerated laughter. “Holy crap! Diego actually got that video made!” He slapped his thigh hard, laughing, and turned to look at me. “Chloe, were you scared? We put this together a few days ago using one of those AI face-swap apps! All just to mess with you tonight , we wanted to see your jealous face!” The moment he spoke, the group of friends who’d been frozen stiff around us snapped back to life, as if someone had pressed play. “Yeah, yeah! Chloe, don’t take it seriously!” “AI is insane these days , it can even deepfake bodies. But look at that lighting, it’s obviously fake!” “Wallace went way too far with this one. Look at Chloe, she went completely pale!” Sophia was sitting diagonally across from me. Her face was even whiter than mine. She bit down hard on her lower lip, her eyes darting away from me. Her hands twisted nervously at the hem of her shirt, and her voice was trembling: “Chloe… please don’t be upset. It was all Wallace’s idea, messing around with mine and Diego’s pictures to generate that thing…” Right then, Diego came through the front door carrying two large bags of takeout. He glanced at the blank screen, then scanned the faces of everyone in the room. In an instant, he understood. He crossed the room in two long strides, shoved his phone deep into his pocket, and pulled me tightly into his arms. “Chloe, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. They wanted to do this prank thing, and I didn’t want to go along with it, I swear.” Diego’s voice carried just the right amount of flustered guilt and gentle coaxing. His warm breath brushed against my ear. “Don’t be mad. I’ll delete that stupid app the second we get home.” His arms were tight around me, carrying the familiar faint scent of his cedar cologne. But all I felt in that moment was my stomach turning violently, a wave of nausea I could barely contain. I lifted my head and looked around the room. Wallace’s overdone grin. Sophia’s pitifully trembling tears. The faces of our friends , expressions that looked like concern but were really just evasion. They were all performing flawlessly. Their act was airtight. If my eyesight weren’t so sharp, I might have actually bought the “AI deepfake” story. In the last frozen frame of that video, I had caught a detail in the background with perfect clarity. It was our master bedroom. On the carpet at the foot of the bed, my golden retriever , Toast , was lying there, watching the two people on the bed with curious eyes. And around Toast’s neck was a bright orange custom collar. That collar was one I had picked up at a pet expo just last Sunday , three days ago , and put on him myself. Could an AI deepfake accurately generate a dog collar I’d bought three days ago? I looked at Diego’s face, so full of carefully performed sincerity, and suddenly smiled. I gently pushed him away, let out a long breath, and pressed a hand to my chest , playing the part of someone who’d just barely recovered from a scare. “Oh my god, you almost gave me a heart attack! You guys are seriously so extra , who pulls a prank like that?” I grabbed a throw pillow from the couch and lobbed it at Wallace. “Wallace, that was mean. I’m cutting you off from beer tonight!” The moment those words left my mouth, the tension in the living room dissolved like air rushing out of a punctured balloon. Every single person seemed to exhale a mountain of relief. “I knew Chloe was the most chill one here!” Wallace immediately played along, raising a can of beer. “My bad, my bad , I’ll take the penalty! Let’s get back to having fun!” Diego visibly relaxed too. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “You’re the best. I’ll go grill you some chicken wings , your favorite.” Sophia came over as well, looping her arm warmly through mine, her eyes still red-rimmed. “Chloe, you’re not mad at me, are you? I was terrified.” “Silly, why would I be mad at you?” I wrapped my hand around hers and smiled at her, soft and warm. “We’re best friends, aren’t we?” I watched the relief wash over her face, and felt something cold spreading through me , slow and quiet, like venom seeping through my veins, inch by inch. My best friend. My beloved husband. My most trusted people. All this time, I had been living inside a real-life Truman Show , a perfectly constructed lie, and I was the only one who didn’t know.

The whole incident seemed to blow over just like that , swept under the rug without a second thought. Music filled the villa again. People ate grilled food, drank beer, played board games, and the laughter picked up right where it had left off. But I felt like a ghost , hovering just outside this world, untethered from all of it. I watched everything with cold, detached eyes. I noticed that Diego and Sophia were being deliberately careful around each other. They wouldn’t even let their gazes cross, staying as far apart as the space allowed. But the way the others looked at me , that had changed. The looks were subtle, but I caught every one of them. Pity. Mockery. The amused contempt you’d give someone who’d just been made a fool. They were probably laughing at me inside: Look at Chloe , what an idiot. All it took was one lazy lie, and she swallowed it whole. Midway through the evening, I made an excuse to use the bathroom. I stood at the sink and looked at the woman in the mirror , perfectly made up, and completely pale underneath it. Chloe. You’re pathetic. Just then, there was a knock at the bathroom door. It was Wallace. He was holding a glass of warm water, his earlier goofy grin replaced by a tone that tried to sound fatherly and wise. “Chloe. Drink some water.” I didn’t take it. I just looked at him, flat and cold. “What do you want?” Wallace sighed and leaned against the doorframe, dropping his voice. “Chloe… look, we’re all adults here. Sometimes the smartest thing is to just… let things go.” My stomach dropped. But I kept my expression perfectly neutral. “What are you trying to say?” “What I’m saying is , Diego is good to you. Men sometimes lose their heads, chase something new and exciting for a minute. But in his heart? Home is still home. You’re still his wife.” Wallace looked at me with the air of someone dispensing great wisdom from a great height. “We all know each other here. If you blow this up, nobody wins. Diego’s career is really taking off right now, and you’ve got a reputation to protect too. Sometimes, you just look the other way and life keeps moving. You get what I’m saying?” I understood perfectly. He wasn’t here to comfort me. He was here to put me in my place. He was telling me: We all know Diego cheated. But you’d better act like you don’t. Keep being the good wife, don’t make a scene, and don’t ruin everybody’s good time. I stared at Wallace’s self-satisfied face and felt something almost like laughter rising in my chest , the kind that comes from pure, bewildered absurdity. “Wallace,” I said, holding his gaze, voice even and deliberate. “Sophia , your girlfriend , slept with Diego. And you’re not angry about it. You’re standing here telling me to be understanding?” Wallace’s expression stiffened for a flicker of a moment. A flash of discomfort crossed his face, but he recovered quickly, shrugging it off with practiced ease. “Chloe, you’re looking at this wrong. We’re all out here having a good time , that’s what matters. And Sophia, she…” He trailed off vaguely. “Bottom line, I’m telling you this for your own good. Don’t back Diego into a corner. End of the day, you don’t want to lose everything , him and your stability , all at once.” “For my own good?” I let out a short, humorless laugh. “Well, thanks so much.” I pushed past him and walked straight back to the living room. I didn’t explode. Not then. Because I knew that blowing up right now would accomplish nothing , it would just give them ammunition to gaslight me, turn everything around on me, and close ranks. They outnumbered me. They had a united front. What I needed was evidence. I needed proof so airtight it would nail every single one of them to the wall.

At three in the morning, the villa finally went quiet. Everyone had drunk themselves into a stupor and shuffled off to their rooms. Diego was lying beside me, dead asleep, a faint snore rising and falling from his chest. I stared at the ceiling with wide-open eyes, lying still in the dark, waiting. When I was absolutely certain he was out cold, I carefully sat up and reached for his phone on the nightstand. The passcode was my birthday. The irony was almost funny , he used my birthday to lock a phone full of betrayal. The screen lit up. I went straight to his hidden notes folder. Inside was not just the video. There was an entire album of photos. I went through them one by one. Hotel beds. Our living room couch. The backseat of his car. Sophia’s apartment. Positions and messages that turned my stomach. Explicit. Shameless. Relentless. The earliest photo was dated a year and a half ago. A year and a half. Back then, I had just come out of a minor surgery and was recovering at home. Sophia had come over every single day with homemade soup. She’d hold my hand and say, “Chloe, you have to get better soon.” Diego had come home on time every evening, rubbed my feet, and told me, “Chloe, you’ve been through so much.” And while I had been at my most vulnerable, most grateful, most trusting , they had been doing this, right under my nose. My hands were shaking badly, but I bit down on my lip and didn’t make a sound. After going through the album, I backed out and opened his Twitter. Something told me there was more. Why had Wallace been so completely brazen about telling me to look the other way? Why had all twenty people in that room reacted so instantly, so uniformly, the moment the video went up? I scrolled down through his message list. My eyes landed on a group chat titled “Weekend Squad.” Twenty-two members. Everyone who had been at the villa tonight. I opened the chat and scrolled up through the history, my fingers going cold. It was like a fist closing around my heart , studded with nails. Every page I scrolled up, the nails pressed deeper. The group had been created a year ago. What was inside shattered everything I thought I knew. The earliest message was from Wallace. Wallace: Holy shit! Diego, you actually got with Sophia?? Legend, bro!! Diego: Keep it down. Don’t let Chloe catch on. Friend A: Relax, Chloe is totally love-blind. Feed her two sweet lines and she believes whatever you want. Friend B: Right? She seems sharp in every other way, but when it comes to relationships she’s completely clueless. Sophia: Oh stop it, you guys are making me blush~ They were treating this like a spectator sport , sitting in the stands, entertained, watching Diego and Sophia’s affair play out as though it were a show put on for their amusement. They had turned it into a game. Friend C: Tonight at the bar, I’ll get Chloe drunk so you two can slip away. I got you. Diego: Thanks man. Dinner’s on me next time. Wallace: Sophia, pace yourself, don’t get too wild. Sophia: Rude~ And like you don’t have your own little situation going on, Wallace. We’re both just doing our thing. Reading those words, my stomach lurched over and over. So Wallace didn’t care at all that Sophia had been sleeping with Diego. Because in this circle, that was simply how things were , rotten all the way through. I kept scrolling. And then I found something that crushed the last fragment of hope I hadn’t realized I was still holding. They had placed bets on me. Friend D: Alright, I’m opening a pool , how long before Chloe figures it out? I say within six months. A hundred bucks. Friend E: One year. Five hundred. Wallace: I say she NEVER figures it out. A thousand. Diego’s got her completely wrapped around his finger. Didn’t she get that job because of Diego’s connections? Without him she’s nothing. I almost laughed out loud. That job was mine. I had ground through countless sleepless nights and delivered three breakout projects before I ever earned that director title. All Diego ever did was pass along my résumé before my first interview. And in their eyes, everything I had built and everything I had earned was just a gift Diego had handed me. I scrolled to the messages from earlier that same night , sent just after the video incident. Wallace: @everyone , All clear! Chloe bought the AI deepfake story! Everyone can breathe again lol What followed was a wave of “Wallace is the GOAT” and “Diego should win an Oscar” memes and reaction GIFs. Sophia: I honestly thought Chloe was going to lose it on me tonight. My heart was pounding. Friend F: As if she’d do anything. She’s so obsessed with Diego, even if she knew, she’d just swallow it. Diego: Alright, enough. Tonight was a close call , everyone be more careful going forward. Wallace, quick thinking tonight. I owe you one. Wallace: Don’t mention it. But hey Diego, that video you made was pretty good , send it to me privately for… appreciation purposes? The filth went on from there. I looked at those familiar profile pictures on the screen , people I had genuinely cared about, treated to dinners, shown up for when they needed help. They had all become monsters wearing human faces. I didn’t cry. In the face of a rage this absolute, tears felt like a waste. I pulled out my own phone and, screen by screen, page by page, photographed every single chat message, every photo, every video in the album. It took half an hour. When I was done, I backed everything up to three separate cloud accounts. Then I put Diego’s phone back exactly where it had been. I lay back down. Closed my eyes. In the dark, my mind was razor-sharp. You think I’m naive. You think I’m easy to manage. You love watching this play out so much. Fine. Let’s play. I was going to show every single one of them what happens when you push a patient person all the way to the edge.

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I rushed home after two days away on a business trip, excited to celebrate the second birthday of my Call duck. But all I found was a duck’s head and a note from my husband, Ethan. 「Dada kept crying in the middle of the night. The neighbors complained about the noise, so I tied her beak shut for the night. I didn’t think she’d actually die from it.」 I read it over and over again, refusing to believe what I was seeing. Ethan and I had chosen not to have children. Dada was like our baby. How could he do something like that to her? I went door to door, frantically asking every neighbor if they’d complained about Dada making noise. At the very last unit, the door was slightly ajar. A pregnant woman was sitting on the couch, talking on the phone. “My husband is so good to me. I told him I was craving roast duck, and he went right out and bought me this gorgeous, plump one. It’s so tender.” The man beside her leaned over and kissed her cheek. “As long as you’re happy. You and the baby are all that matter.” When I got a clear look at that man’s face, the box I was holding — the one with Dada’s head inside — slipped from my hands and hit the floor. That man was Ethan. My husband of five years. —

The sound of the box hitting the floor caught their attention. When Ethan looked up, his eyes met mine. A flash of panic crossed his face. The pregnant woman looked confused. “What’s wrong? Is someone at the door?” She started to turn around, but Ethan pressed his hand against her head to stop her. “It’s nothing. Just some kid being stupid, left something outside. They’re already gone.” His panicked look had hardened into something cold and threatening. He mouthed a single word at me. “Go.” My heart dropped like a stone. Tears streamed down my face — but he didn’t flinch. Not even a little. When my parents died, he’d kissed every single tear away and swore he would never let me cry again. Even when things got passionate between us, he’d always held back, afraid of hurting me. But now, looking at me sobbing, all I saw in his eyes was irritation — his whole heart was focused on protecting another woman. My legs felt like lead. I couldn’t move. His expression shifted to outright anger. “She’s pregnant. Take your disgusting trash and leave before you upset her — you don’t want that on your conscience.” Disgusting trash. I looked down at the small box of ashes in my hands, eyes blurred with tears, my mind flooding with memories. I’d been in a car accident years ago that left me unable to conceive easily. On our wedding day, Ethan had given me Dada as a gift. His eyes had been so steady, so full of love. *”Dada will be with us from now on. Having you is enough for me.”* I’d blamed myself so many times for not being able to give us a child. But he’d always told me it didn’t matter. His phone camera roll was packed with photos and videos of me playing with Dada. And now he’d used my beloved pet to impress his mistress. My phone buzzed. A message from Ethan. *”Go home. I’ll explain everything when I get back.”* But before I could move, the pregnant woman had already turned around and spotted me. I recognized that young girl. I’d seen her on Ethan’s computer before. He’d told me she was a struggling college student his company was sponsoring. Her name was Yvonne. Ethan shot to his feet, startled. “She’s a neighbor from upstairs. Probably got the wrong floor.” Yvonne gave a sweet smile. “The duck is done roasting. Why don’t we invite her to eat with us?” A sentence I’d been subconsciously blocking out suddenly resurfaced in my mind. I couldn’t stop myself from wondering — was it possible that what was cooking in that kitchen right now was my Dada? Sure enough, I caught a brief, unmistakable flicker of unease on Ethan’s face. —

Before Yvonne could say another word, Ethan had already lunged forward and dragged me out into the hallway. “Go home. I’ll be there soon.” His voice dropped to a warning growl. “Don’t make me regret this, Rachel.” I grabbed his arm, dazed. “Was it Dada?” His body went rigid for just a fraction of a second — and I felt every bit of it through my palm. He shoved me off in silence, then impatiently kicked the box of ashes across the floor toward me with his foot. “Stop making a scene.” The door slammed in my face. The smell of roasting meat drifted out from inside. I doubled over and dry-heaved against the wall. I sank to my knees on the floor and carefully placed Dada’s head back into the box. The Call duck who used to nuzzle me with her soft white feathers was now someone’s dinner. The man who had promised me forever had built himself a second life. I felt completely hollowed out. I sent Ethan a message. “I want a divorce.” I went home and pulled out my suitcase, quietly packing up my things. Everywhere I looked, I saw memories — me, Ethan, and Dada. I packed all of Dada’s belongings too. Before long, another woman would move in here, and everything left behind would just get thrown away. The front door rattled. A familiar set of footsteps. Ethan stopped in front of me and placed his hand over mine, stilling my packing. “Rachel, don’t act like a child throwing a tantrum.” I looked down. A single tear slipped off my face and landed on his hand. He went still. I looked up and wiped my eyes. Before we got married, my friends always said that once you tied the knot, you had to grow up — you couldn’t be spoiled or needy anymore. But Ethan always pushed back on that immediately. “I’ll treat her like a princess for the rest of her life.” I let out a short, bitter laugh and pushed his hand away. “Go take care of your girlfriend then, Ethan.” I picked up my suitcase. Near the door, he grabbed my shoulder. “Rachel, I’m doing this for us. Everyone we know already has kids. Don’t you want a family?” His voice was earnest. “Once Yvonne has the baby, I’ll pay her off and walk away. You’ll raise the child. You’ll be the only mother it ever knows.” I was speechless. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Seeing that I’d gone quiet, he pressed on. “Rachel, you’re the only one I love. Haven’t I always taken care of you?” Just a few minutes ago, I’d been looking at Yvonne’s Instagram in the building’s community group chat. On my birthday, Ethan had claimed he was out of town on business. He sent me a necklace worth hundreds of thousands of dollars instead. Everyone thought it was so romantic. But that same day, he’d bought Yvonne a $5 million apartment and spent the night with her. The day I was in my car accident, he ran every red light to get to the hospital. Everyone said that proved how deeply he loved me. But right before he’d gotten that call, he’d been in a hotel room with Yvonne — a year into trying to get her pregnant. Hadn’t he been good to me? He had. But he’d been even better to Yvonne. Maybe his kindness to me was nothing more than guilt for what he was doing behind my back. My voice came out hoarse. “I’m the one who took away your chance to be a father. I’m sorry. Is that enough? I want a divorce.” Ethan tightened his grip on my shoulder. His patience was running out. “So what do you want me to do? Tell Yvonne to get rid of the baby? You can’t have children, so you think nobody else should give me one? Rachel, don’t be selfish.” His words cut right through me. My legs nearly gave out. After we got married, Ethan’s parents had somehow found out that I had difficulty conceiving. They raged at me for failing to provide an heir. Ethan knelt in the rain all night to stand up for me. He begged them to accept me.

He always told me he didn’t care about having kids. He said he’d shield me from every nasty word people said. But no one else’s cruelty could ever match his. *You’re being selfish. You want me to die without children.* While we were still arguing, a phone rang. A soft, sweet voice carried through the speaker. “Babe, where’d you go? The baby and I miss you.” Ethan’s expression shifted instantly. “Rachel, just listen to me. The only reason I got involved with Yvonne is because I felt sorry for her — her family is poor. I only love you.” He dropped that line and rushed out the door. Before, if I even hinted at a breakup, he would cling to me for days. Now I’d said divorce, and he walked out without a second glance. He said he chose Yvonne because she was poor. So what was his excuse for betraying me? Was it because I had no parents left, no one to run to — only him? Before I could process any of it, a figure appeared in front of me. A hard slap cracked across my face. Yvonne’s expression was pure venom. “You shameless bitch! You’re old news!” I held my cheek, staring at her in shock. It took me a moment to realize she’d distracted Ethan on purpose — to get me alone. I looked at her with pure contempt. “Yvonne, I am Ethan’s legal wife. If anyone here is the other woman, it’s you. Don’t talk to me about shameless.” My feelings for Ethan were dead. I was done fighting for him. But this woman had torn apart my marriage. There was no reason in the world I should be polite to her. I raised my hand and slapped her back. Yvonne let out a sharp, furious shriek. “I’m carrying Ethan’s son! His heir! How dare you hit me!” She spat out her next line like she’d just won something. “You can’t even have children. What kind of woman does that make you?” His heir? I laughed coldly. “If I refuse to sign the divorce papers, your baby will always be illegitimate. And half of Ethan’s company belongs to me.” Yvonne stroked her stomach, smiling. “Rachel, you’re so naive. A while back, Ethan had you sign some documents — he told you it was paperwork for a vacation property he was gifting you. But the last page was a stock transfer agreement.” She looked me up and down with contempt. “Your thirty percent of shares are in my name now. So is Ethan’s twenty. Even if you divorce and go after assets, there won’t be much left for you.” The blood drained from my body. That day was the anniversary of my parents’ deaths. Ethan had surprised me with the gift of a vacation island to cheer me up. He’d been unusually tender and attentive that day — all because he’d needed me distracted enough to sign those documents. Everything I thought was love had been a calculated move. My eyes went red. My voice cracked. “Get out.” Yvonne tilted her chin up. Her gaze drifted down to the box I was holding. “You actually think that’s your stupid duck in there?” I went completely still. She smiled. “I knew you two had a Call duck. So I asked Ethan to bring her over to me for some fun. But she kept making noise at night, and Ethan didn’t want her disturbing my sleep or stressing the baby — so he tied her beak shut. We didn’t think she’d be so fragile. By morning, she looked like she was already half dead.” Yvonne pulled out her phone without a care in the world, and hit play on a video. Dada’s cries tore through the air — raw, desperate sounds that left me shaking, unable to speak. “I know you both treated that duck like your child. But she was just a duck. She can’t possibly compare to the baby I’m carrying. Honestly? Ethan always thought it was embarrassing and ridiculous that you treated a duck like a person.” A sharp pain tore through my chest. She smiled like someone savoring a victory. “You think I actually wanted roast duck? I just wanted to test Ethan. I wanted to see exactly how much he loved me.” She paused. “I didn’t expect him to say yes so fast.”

My eyes were burning red. I completely lost control. I lunged forward and grabbed her by the hair. “You killed my Dada. So let your baby pay for it.” I was Rachel. I’d fought my way up alongside Ethan for years. Everyone respected me. Why the hell should I take this from his mistress? I pulled up the recording I’d just made of what Ethan said and played it out loud. “He told me himself — he only picked you because you were poor. After the baby’s born, I’ll be the one raising it. You really think he loves you that much? He’s a businessman. Whatever he feels for you, it won’t last.” Yvonne went wild. She threw herself at me, clawing and fighting. “Liar! Ethan said he’d make me his wife! He gave me those shares because he wants to divorce you!” The shares. It finally clicked. Ethan had been afraid that if I found out the truth, I’d leave. So he stripped away my assets first. A woman with no parents, no money, and nowhere to go — he figured I’d have no choice but to stay. But he was wrong. My Aunt Claire had built a business empire in Europe. When my parents died, she’d wanted to take me with her. She’d told me once: *If you ever choose the wrong man, come find me. Anytime.* I’d already been in contact with her. She was sending someone to get me soon. Yvonne had her hands around my throat. I stumbled backward into the table. A box of condoms fell to the floor. She let out a cold laugh. “Strawberry flavor — our favorite. But now when Ethan and I sleep together, we don’t bother with those anymore. If you need them, I can gift them to you.” Her words ignited something in me. I shoved her down hard. When she hit the ground, I hit her — once, twice. Her lip split. She tore open her own shirt. She bared the red marks covering her skin, then turned them toward me like a trophy. “See all of this? Ethan left every single one. Men are driven by desire — I’m already pregnant and he still can’t keep his hands off me. I doubt he even wants to touch you anymore. You’re boring. You’re old to him.” I froze. It was true — Ethan had never been passionate with me in bed. He always said it was because he loved me too much to be rough with me. That I was precious to him. Something cracked open inside me. I snapped. I grabbed her face, pressing down, my hands shaking as I drove her head against the floor. “Shut up! Give me back my Dada!” She thrashed wildly, stretching toward her phone to call for help. “I’m pregnant! If anything happens to me, Ethan will destroy you!” The sound of Dada’s desperate cries was still echoing in my head. I could barely see straight. My hands wouldn’t stop. Then the door burst open. A foot drove hard into my stomach — no hesitation, full force. “Rachel! Have you lost your mind!” The impact hurled me to the floor. Through blurred vision, I saw Ethan’s face — pale, horrified. Something warm spread beneath me. I looked down. A dark red stain was pooling around me, soaking into the floor. The pain in my stomach was unbearable. Before everything went black, I heard Ethan’s voice screaming. “Rachel! Call 911!” When I came to, I was in a hospital bed. My whole body felt like it had been run over. My throat was raw. I tried to speak. Nothing came out. The doctor let out a slow breath of relief. “You can’t take falls like that when you’re pregnant. We almost lost the baby.” I lay there, staring up at the ceiling. The child I’d waited so long for had decided to show up now — right when I’d found out about the affair, right when I’d asked for a divorce. I reached down and pressed my hand against my still-flat stomach. The doctor said, “If everything goes smoothly, you’ll need to take care of yourself for the rest of the pregnancy.” I’d lost my parents. I’d lost my husband. I’d lost Dada. If I lost this baby too, I didn’t know how I would keep going. But the problem now was this: how was I going to make Ethan believe the baby was already gone? My child didn’t deserve a father like him.

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In the deafening, alcohol-soaked roar of our ten-year college reunion, someone suddenly tossed out a question about the ones that got away. When the question landed on my husband, Steven, the noise in the room seemed to dial back. His gaze floated right past me, weightless, before finally anchoring on the woman sitting beside him: Judy. “It was Judy.” He didn’t shout it. His voice was quiet, but it dropped like a heavy stone into a perfectly still lake. The ripples hit everyone in the room. Judy clearly hadn’t anticipated this. Her manicured hand flew to her mouth, her eyes widening in genuine, breathless shock. “Then… the letter I slipped into your backpack sophomore year,” she asked, her voice trembling with a perfectly calibrated dose of grievance. “Why didn’t you ever respond?” Steven froze, his brows knitting together in confusion. “Weren’t you dating Braden back then?” And just like that, over the rim of half-empty cocktail glasses, an eight-year-old misunderstanding unspooled. It turned out, Judy had slipped her love letter into the wrong black backpack. That one careless mistake was the only thing that had kept them apart. The moment the truth settled over them, Judy’s eyes brimmed with cinematic tears. Steven stared at her, his typically guarded face stripped bare, completely awash in shock and profound, tragic regret. Just then, a voice cut through the heavy air from across the table, dripping with sarcasm. “Come on, nobody is thatunlucky. Makes you wonder if someone noticed that letter and swapped it on purpose, right?” The air in the private dining room evaporated. Every single pair of eyes snapped away from the star-crossed lovers and aimed directly at me. Most of the people in this room had no idea that Steven and I had been married for five years. To them, I was just the clueless, delusional ugly duckling who had spent all of college chasing after the campus golden boy. I turned my head to look at Steven. I was clinging to the very last, fraying thread of hope, praying he would say something. Anything. Just one sentence to clear my name. Just tell them that he was the one who had relentlessly pursued me. But he didn’t say a word. He just sat there, looking at me with the same complicated, scrutinizing gaze as everyone else. In that quiet, agonizing space between my heartbeat and my next breath, I reached beneath the table and silently twisted the wedding band I had worn for five years. I told myself what I had been avoiding for half a decade: This circus is finally over. 1 The drinks kept flowing. Judy, crying a delicate, beautiful kind of tears, had scooted her chair flush against Steven’s. They were entirely locked in their own world. “I can’t believe it was all a stupid mix-up,” she whispered. “If I had just written your name on the envelope, you wouldn’t have thought… you wouldn’t have thought I belonged to someone else.” Steven’s eyes were heavy, dark with a sorrow I hadn’t seen in him since his father died. “Nobody could have known.” “That it would end up like this.” Judy was getting emotional, aided by the four martinis she’d downed. Steven—my husband—stayed right by her side. His hand rubbed soothing, gentle circles on her back. He even flagged down a waiter to bring her a glass of iced lemon water to sober her up. Not once did he look my way. Around us, our former classmates buzzed like a hive of excited bees. “God, you can’t write this stuff. The ultimate missed connection, finally finding each other almost a decade later.” “So our valedictorian really was in love with the homecoming queen all along.” “Think about it—if they had gotten together back then, they’d probably have kids in grade school by now.” Then, that same venomous voice from earlier chimed in again. “Yeah, well, if a certain someone hadn’t been so shamelessly throwing herself at Steven, maybe they wouldn’t have lost all these years.” Their eyes darted toward me, not even trying to hide their disdain. Under the table, my nails bit so hard into my palms that they broke skin. I pressed my lips into a thin line, refusing to give them a reaction. After a flurry of whispering, a guy who used to be in our study group slid into the empty chair beside me. He leaned in, his breath reeking of cheap whiskey. “Come on, Gemma. It was you, wasn’t it?” he muttered, a smirk playing on his lips. “Just admit it. You switched the letter so they’d miss their shot.” Ice flooded my veins. I opened my mouth to defend myself, to tell him he was out of his mind, but the crowd didn’t wait for my truth. “I mean, it adds up.” “Everyone knew Steven and Judy were the golden couple waiting to happen. The sexual tension was insane.” “And then there was Gemma. Always lurking. Looking at Steven like a starving dog.” “We all saw it. Every time a late-night lecture ended, she was right there, begging him to walk the track with her. Who knows what kind of dirty tricks she pulled behind the scenes?” “Swapping a letter is child’s play for someone that desperate. Case closed.” They didn’t know. They didn’t know that Steven and I had been together for eight years, and married for five. They only remembered that we were always together on campus. And in their narrative, it was because I was pathetic. A toad lusting after a swan. But they didn’t know the reality. From day one, it was Steven who chased me. But Steven was intensely private. He hated public displays. He never posted me on his Instagram, never paraded me around. Behind closed doors, he was the one pushing for the relationship, initiating every milestone. But to the outside world, his passive silence made him look like the innocent victim of my obsession. He was the brilliant, untouchable business major, radiating potential wherever he went. And I was the girl everyone agreed was punching above her weight. But that didn’t give them the right to humiliate me. I turned my head and looked dead into the eyes of the guy sitting next to me. My face was a mask of cold stone. “If you’re tired of having a tongue in your mouth,” I said, my voice dangerously soft, “I can help you cut it out.” 2 The table went dead quiet. A guy across from me slammed his fist against the mahogany wood, rattling the silverware. He pointed a finger at me. “Who the hell do you think you are, Gemma?” he snapped. “If you were actually capable of anything, you wouldn’t have spent eight years chasing a guy who still won’t give you the time of day.” “Do you have any idea how much of a joke you are to everyone here? You really thought the ugly duckling was going to bag the prince.” A cruel ripple of muffled laughter washed over the table. My eyes burned. A hot, humiliating flush crept up my neck. I looked at Steven. He glanced at me for a fraction of a second, then deliberately shifted his gaze to the wall. In that moment, the platinum band on my left ring finger felt like it was burning through my flesh, constricting until my chest actually ached. Aside from Beckett—Steven’s business partner and oldest friend—not a single soul in this room knew the truth. I was Steven’s wife. And today wasn’t just a reunion. It was our fifth wedding anniversary. I hated crowds, hated these forced nostalgic gatherings. I had only agreed to come because Steven had begged me for weeks. “Gemma, it’s been years. If we don’t show up, people will think we’re hiding,” he had pleaded. “It’s just some old faces. We should make an appearance.” I had stayed silent then. Steven wasn’t exactly the life of the party either. His sudden, burning desire to attend a tacky alumni dinner made no sense. Until I found out Judy was on the guest list. When I had hesitated, he had pulled me into his arms, using that soft, coaxing tone he knew always broke my defenses. “Gem, you’re always complaining that I don’t claim you publicly. I promise you, at this reunion, I’m going to stand up and tell everyone that you’re my wife.” That was why I said yes. Yet here I was, surrounded by a pack of wolves tearing me apart for “failing” to get the man I had slept next to for half a decade, and Steven was completely silent. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. I calmly set my fork and knife down on my plate. A hollow, freezing laugh escaped my lips. “Who says I never got him?” Everyone froze. A few people literally leaned forward, practically vibrating with gossip. “Wait, what? Are they… together?” Beckett, sitting at the far end of the table, was the only one who knew the weight of my words. He had never liked me. He thought I was too sharp, too demanding, and somehow believed I had manipulated Steven into marriage. Hearing the whispers, Beckett let out a sharp scoff and downed the rest of his bourbon. “Some people just don’t know their place,” he muttered loud enough for the room to hear. “Zero self-respect.” I ignored him. My eyes were locked onto Steven like a sniper. The moment the words had left my mouth, Steven’s body had gone completely rigid. He froze, his glass hovering halfway to his lips. He shot me a glare—a cold, terrifying warning. Don’t do it. Two seconds later, my phone vibrated on the table. It was a text from him. Don’t mention the marriage. Now is not the right time. I stared at the screen, a hysterical, bitter amusement bubbling up in my throat. Not the right time? No. It was just that he had finally realized his golden girl had wanted him back then. He thought there was a chance for them to rewrite history. And I was supposed to quietly step aside and let them have their romance? I placed my hands on the table and slowly stood up. “Steven,” I said, my voice echoing in the quiet room. “Weren’t you going to tell everyone the truth?” 3 Steven stood up so fast his chair scraped violently against the hardwood floor. He was wound as tight as a coiled spring. He stared at me for a long, agonizing moment. Then, his jaw locked, he turned to the crowd. “Yes.” “Gemma and I… we dated for a while.” “But that was in the past. We broke up.” My head snapped back as if he had physically struck me. I stared at him, my fingernails digging so deeply into my palms I felt wetness. Beside him, Judy looked up, her face blooming into an expression of pure, unadulterated joy. “Really? You’re… you’re single right now?” The room erupted. The tension broke into a chaotic cheer. “Oh my god, I am so here for this!” “This is literally a movie! The right people always find their way back to each other.” “I am dying. This is so romantic. I would sell my soul to see you two finally get together!” Amidst the screaming and clapping, even Beckett—who usually looked at me with thinly veiled contempt—shot me a look of genuine pity. As he walked past my chair to hit the bar, he shook his head and whispered, “You brought this on yourself.” My legs gave out. I sank heavily back into my chair, entirely drained. Never in my darkest nightmares did I imagine Steven would stand in a room full of our peers and publicly erase our marriage, effectively throwing me to the wolves. The sarcastic jabs from the women across the table grew louder. “Wow, I thought she was going to drop a bomb. Turns out she’s just the bitter ex.” “Did you see the way she stood up? I literally thought she was going to claim she was his wife.” “Please. Look at her. Does she look like someone who could hold down a guy like Steven?” I looked down at the diamond on my left hand. I felt utterly, irredeemably pathetic. Seeing the blood drain from my face, Judy’s eyes flashed with triumphant cruelty. She picked up her champagne flute, walked around the table, and stopped right in front of me. “Gemma, I know it hurts to lose,” she said, her voice dripping with fake empathy. “But love is just like that. When it’s real, nothing can stand in its way.” “Steven admitted you guys had a fling. But clearly, you weren’t the right fit. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have broken up, right?” She tapped her glass against my untouched water goblet, the crystal making a sharp clink. “Cheers to moving on.” She tipped her head back and drank the whole thing. I remained frozen in my chair, a ghost in my own body. Later in the night, as Steven made his rounds with a bottle of tequila, he eventually reached my side of the table. Under the guise of clinking my glass, he leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. “Gem, be an adult,” he whispered fiercely. “Don’t embarrass Judy.” I looked up at him, my eyes dead. Steven couldn’t hold my gaze. He immediately stepped away, migrating right back to Judy’s side. They were laughing. Whispering. I hadn’t seen his eyes crinkle at the corners like that in years. Soon enough, the crowd, drunk and loud, started chanting. “Do a sweetheart shot! Come on, hook your arms! You owe us!” The people who didn’t know he had a wife waiting at home were relentless. “Do it! It’s a decade overdue!” “You’re both single! What are you afraid of?” “Get him drunk enough and he’ll have to take you back to your hotel, Judy! We’re all adults here!” The comments were devolving into raunchy, humiliating dares. I closed my eyes, a physical nausea washing over me. Suddenly, Beckett, swaying slightly from the liquor, was standing next to me. “Hey, Gemma, don’t let it get to you. It’s just alumni nostalgia,” he slurred, though his eyes looked anxious. “He’s just caught up in the ‘what-ifs.’ You’re his wife. Taking a shot isn’t gonna end your marriage.” But even as Beckett said it, his brow was furrowed, his eyes darting nervously toward Steven. Anyone with eyes could see it. Steven wasn’t just playing along. He was drowning in it. I started pouring vodka into my water glass, throwing it back straight. Again and again. Even when I stumbled to the bathroom to throw up, holding my own hair over the toilet, Steven didn’t come looking for me. When I finally wiped my mouth and pushed back into the private dining room, the first thing I saw was Steven. He had Judy pinned against the edge of the table. Their bodies were completely flush. They were kissing. “Oh shit, Gemma’s back!” someone yelled. Steven and Judy ripped apart. But it was too late. Steven’s lips were visibly smeared with cherry-red lipstick. He panicked, taking a step back from her, raising his hands in a defensive gesture. “Gemma, we were just playing a drinking game—” “A game, right?” A cold, broken laugh ripped out of my throat. I grabbed the heavy crystal highball glass off the nearest table and raised it above my head. Beckett lunged forward. “Gemma, stop, don’t be crazy!” He was too late. I hurled the glass straight at the floor between Steven’s feet. It exploded like a grenade. Shards of thick crystal flew in every direction. “Ah! Steven, it hurts!” One of the larger shards had sliced deep into Judy’s calf, right above her designer heel. Blood immediately bloomed through her sheer tights. Steven’s face morphed into absolute fury. “Are you out of your fucking mind, Gemma?!” 4 I stared at him, the ice in my chest solidifying into something permanent. “Yeah. I guess I am.” I was out of my mind for ever believing in him. Suddenly, a girl near the front of the room gasped, pointing at my left hand. “Wait… Gemma, is that a wedding ring? Are you married to someone else? And you’re here losing your mind over an ex?” “Oh my god, she’s actually married! Does anyone know her husband? Call him! Tell him his wife is out here acting like a psycho over Steven!” She stepped toward me, aggressively reaching out to shove my shoulder. I let out a low laugh and caught her wrist mid-air, my grip like a vice. “My husband is dead,” I said, staring unblinkingly into her eyes. “Would you like to meet him? Because I’ll happily send you six feet under right now.” The girl’s face lost all its color. She yanked her hand back, stumbling away from me in sheer terror. “They’re right. You’re a complete psycho.” I let go of her, slowly twisting the platinum band off my ring finger. I looked at Steven, my lips curving into a sneer. Before we walked into this restaurant tonight, he had been wearing the exact same band. Sometime between the coat check and the appetizers, he had slipped it into his pocket. “Are you going to keep playing deaf and dumb?” I asked him, my voice devoid of any emotion. “I don’t have time for your unhinged bullshit right now!” Steven barked, his eyes glued to the blood trickling down Judy’s leg. He scooped her up effortlessly into his arms. “Hang on, Judy, I’m taking you to the ER.” “I’ll drive!” someone yelled. “We’re coming too!” Within seconds, the chaotic room emptied out, leaving behind nothing but half-eaten food, spilled wine, and shattered glass. Beckett was the last to leave. He lingered by the door, watching me with a deeply conflicted expression. “Gemma… you drank way too much tonight. Let me call you an Uber. Or I can drive you.” I brushed past him, knocking his hand away. “Don’t bother.” I walked out to the street, hailed a cab, and gave the driver the address of the private hospital Steven’s company always used. When I walked onto the pristine VIP floor, I found him immediately. He was sitting by Judy’s bed. He had stayed by her side, tending to her like she was made of spun glass, until he had literally fallen asleep in the chair next to her, his head resting near her hip. I watched as Judy reached out, brushing his hair back, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead. Then she looked up and saw me standing in the doorway. She froze. A minute later, she limped out into the stark, fluorescent-lit hallway, closing the door behind her. She immediately put on her pitiful, wounded-bird act. “Gemma, I know you had feelings for him back in the day. But you heard him tonight. He doesn’t love you anymore.” “You’ve clung to him for so long. If you were really the love of his life, he would have married you by now. But he didn’t. That says everything.” “Please. Just for the sake of the good old days… have some dignity. Stop stalking him. Okay?” If a stranger walked by, they would have thought I was the deranged mistress harassing the devoted girlfriend. I looked at her. Really looked at her. Judy. The campus untouchable. The girl with the perfect hair, the perfect grades, the fragile smile that made men want to bleed for her. Even tonight, all she had to do was utter one sentence about a letter in a wrong backpack, and an entire room of adults swallowed it without chewing. A cold smile spread across my face. “Judy, drop the act. There’s no audience here. Who are you performing for?” Her pale face tightened. “What are you talking about?” “You think I don’t know? You think nobody saw you?” I stepped closer, invading her space. “I was there. I watched you put that letter into Braden’s bag. It wasn’t a mistake. You addressed it to Braden.” Panic flashed in her eyes, sharp and fast. She took a step back. “You’re lying.” “Braden was a 250-pound frat bro who barely passed intro to econ. Why on earth would I like him?” My smile turned wicked. “Because his dad owned half the real estate in the city.” I remembered it perfectly. I remembered watching Braden’s blacked-out Range Rover drop her off three blocks away from campus so nobody would see. I remembered catching them at an upscale outdoor mall on a Sunday, her arm looped through his, watching them walk straight into the lobby of the Four Seasons. And I remembered Steven back then. He was breathtakingly handsome, but he was broke. He wore the same three threadbare flannels, carried a cracked phone, and spent every hour outside of class working double shifts at a diner or handing out flyers in the freezing rain. I had been sitting in the stalls of the women’s restroom when I heard Judy talking to her sorority sisters at the sinks. “Steven is gorgeous, yeah, but he’s destitute. Who cares if he has a 4.0? Once he graduates, he’s just another guy drowning in debt.” “I’d be signing up for a life of struggling to pay rent. I’m not an idiot.” “Let the pathetic girls like Gemma have him. They deserve each other.” So, I knew exactly why Judy was suddenly so heartbroken over a “switched letter.” Steven wasn’t the broke kid in the flannel anymore. He had built an empire. He was wealthy, powerful, and polished. I also knew through the grapevine that Judy had recently been dumped by her married sugar daddy. The guy’s wife had literally dragged her to a clinic to force an abortion. She was desperate. She needed a new host to latch onto. And my husband was her golden ticket. Judy glared at me, her fragile facade dropping into something feral. “Go ahead. Run in there and tell him all that. Let’s see who he believes. The girl he’s been dreaming of for ten years, or the stalker he denied in front of fifty people tonight.” I threw my head back and laughed. “Why would I tell him?” “I came here tonight to tell you that you can have him. Steven is all yours. A gift.” Judy looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language. I looked down at the ring in my palm. Steven had bought this during the second year of his startup. It was the hardest year of our lives. He had drained his entirely depleted savings to buy it. After he swiped his debit card at the jeweler, he showed me his banking app. He had exactly fifty-two dollars left to his name. Not enough for a week’s worth of groceries. But he had slipped it onto my finger, his eyes blazing with a fierce, desperate love. “I’m going to give you the world, Gem. When we make it, I’ll buy you anything you want.” I had thrown my arms around his neck, crying, feeling like the richest girl on earth. “I don’t care about the money, Steven! As long as you love me, as long as I’m with you, I already have everything.” The echo of those words in my head made me want to vomit. We had no future left. I took a deep breath, handed the ring to Judy, and dropped it into her palm. “Here. Consider it a bonus.” She stared at the massive diamond, her eyes lighting up with unfiltered, greedy hunger, before her suspicion kicked back in. “Why are you doing this?” “There’s a catch, obviously.” I unzipped my clutch and pulled out a manila envelope, retrieving the document inside. I had signed it three days ago. “Tell Steven to sign the bottom. We’re getting a divorce.” Judy stood frozen in the corridor, her brain short-circuiting. Suddenly, the heavy wooden door to the hospital room swung open. “Judy? Who are you talking to?”

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