Category: English

I was the only kept woman by the side of Manhattan’s most eligible billionaire heir. One day, I happened to glance at his phone and saw a suggestive text pop up: 【Baby, I’ll be waiting at our usual spot tonight~】 I froze for a split second, then calmly locked the screen for him. He works so hard every day; what’s wrong with him spending the night with another girl? 1 It’s not that I don’t know how to be jealous. It’s just… why should I? Everett Thorne has eight-pack abs, a model’s physique, and a face that could put Hollywood A-listers to shame. The line of women waiting to date him stretches from New York to Paris. As the “trophy girl” by his side, I might have to swallow a little pride, but the $150,000 monthly allowance is more than enough to numb the pain. With benefits like these, why would I ever want to rock the boat? A smart woman never goes looking for trouble. 2 Everett walked out of his study and lazily sat back down beside me. He pulled me close while I watched some mindless reality TV, then picked up his phone. Suddenly, his brow furrowed, and his fingers tapped the screen a few times. Using my 20/20 vision, I caught a glimpse of his reply: 【Understood.】 Aha. So the Prince of the Upper East Side won’t be coming home tonight? Doesn’t that mean I can finally go out and run wild? I suppressed my excitement and even played the part of the attentive partner by pouring him a glass of water. Everett didn’t drink it. Instead, he reached out with his long arm, pulled me into his lap, and leaned against me with lazy affection. His lashes were thick, his voice a low mumble: “I have a business dinner tonight. Do you want to come with me?” Uh… no. I’m not about to crash your wonderful night with whatever “trophy sister” sent that text. I don’t need to be a part of your kinky roleplay. I complained internally, but my voice was soft and submissive: “You go ahead. I’m not really cut out for those high-stakes events.” Everett gave a non-committal “Mm.” He didn’t push it. He just held me like he was cuddling a cat for a long while before grabbing his coat and lazily heading out. The second he was gone, I called my best friend and headed straight for the Meatpacking District. My friend, Sarah, teased me: “How did your keeper let you out tonight?” I scrolled through the club’s lineup, eyeing the new male DJ, and replied: “Everett’s busy tonight. I’m out to live my best life while the coast is clear.” Sarah laughed, but then she dropped a bombshell: “I heard a rumor that you and Everett are getting engaged.” My hand tightened around my martini glass. “What?” “Cody told me. He said Everett’s been making massive preparations for an engagement lately. It’s a huge deal. Man, if you actually landed the heir to the Thorne empire, you’re going to shock the entire social register.” I slowly sipped the rest of my drink. It took a long time before I could find my voice. “Forget them. I’m pretty shocked right now.” 3 When Sarah tried to dig deeper, I played it off and changed the subject. But my mind was racing. Everett and I had a signed contract. In public, we were the perfect, doting couple—I was the buffer to handle his overbearing parents and the socialites throwing themselves at him. In private, I was just the girl he kept in his penthouse. But now, he’s getting married? Who is he marrying? And does our contract still mean anything? My head started to throb. Everything felt like a mess. I downed two more drinks to numb the anxiety and headed to the dance floor to blow off some steam. As I stood up, I noticed a commotion at the entrance of the club. I instinctively looked over and saw a group of elite young men and women walking in. One man stood out—tall, refined, and radiating an effortless nobility. The strobing club lights hit his face—a face that looked like it had won the genetic lottery. The people around him were practically gravitating toward him. Wait. Holy crap. What is Everett doing here? Wasn’t he supposed to be at a “usual spot” with some girl? 4 Maybe my gaze was too intense, because Everett suddenly looked in my direction. My heart skipped a beat. I immediately ducked into the booth, barely breathing. Dead. I’m dead. The persona I maintained in front of him was “sweet, fragile little lamb.” If he sees me here, surrounded by smoke and tequila, he’ll probably blow a fuse. I glanced at Sarah, who was losing herself on the dance floor, and grabbed my bag, ready to bolt for the restrooms. Safety first. Survival is the priority. I figured the “Golden Boys” would head straight for a VIP lounge. I’d wait for them to pass, then slip out. But to my horror, they sat down at the massive booth right next to mine. They were laughing and carrying on. It was a high-energy scene that drew the eyes of every girl in the room. I crouched in the shadows, not daring to move. I only caught a glimpse when a server brought them a round of bottles. As luck would have it, Everett was sitting directly across from my booth. He was leaning in, listening to a woman next to him, his sharp profile perfectly defined. I pulled back further, screaming internally. How am I supposed to leave? If I stand up, he’ll see me instantly! Just as I was plotting an escape, I heard the conversation from the next booth: “Everett, not drinking?” “No. You guys go ahead.” “Ah, I get it. The ‘Missus’ hates the smell of booze on you, right?” “If you know, why ask?” Everett leaned back lazily, playing with his phone, a smirk playing on his lips. “You guys have fun. I’m going to give her a call.” “Oooooh—!” Amidst the teasing, I was utterly bewildered. Who is this “Missus”? I’ve never once complained about him smelling like alcohol. So it’s true. Everett has another girl. As I was lost in thought, the phone in my bag started ringing. In the relatively quiet booth area, it sounded like a siren. Damn it! Who is calling me right now?! I scrambled to grab my phone and silence it. When I saw the caller ID, I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. 5 Why was Everett calling me? I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t. I sat there trembling, waiting for the call to go to voicemail. Usually, at this time, I’d be in the shower. I hoped he’d just assume that. Sure enough, he didn’t call back. I let out a sigh of relief, peeking over the edge of the booth. Everett was staring down at his phone. His expression was unreadable. I didn’t have time to wonder what he was thinking. I needed to move. But just as I stood up to slip away, a loud, eager male voice boomed right next to me: “Hey, beautiful! Did you drink too much and fall? “Let me help you up.” I stayed hunched over, waving him off frantically, whispering: “No, I’m fine. Go away.” The guy didn’t take the hint. “Come on, you shouldn’t be alone. Your face is all red.” It’s red because I’m panicking, you idiot! I didn’t want to deal with this “nice guy” creep. I just wanted him to vanish before he attracted Everett’s attention. I looked at him coldly. “I don’t need your help. Please leave.” The guy smirked. “Oh, playing hard to get? Why so cold? Let’s just have some fun.” He reached out to grab my arm. The commotion started drawing eyes. I was desperate. Then, a cold, familiar voice rang out from behind the guy: “Didn’t you hear her? She told you to get lost.” I stiffened. I closed my eyes, wishing for the sweet release of death. It’s over. The world is officially on fire. 6 When Everett is angry, he has an overwhelming presence. It’s like the air around him drops twenty degrees. The creep muttered an apology and scurried away. The creep was gone, but I was still in the line of fire. I tried to scramble for an explanation, but Everett just looked down at me with dark, swirling eyes. He turned to his friends at the next table, said he had an emergency, and walked out without another word. I panicked. Forgetting Sarah, I chased after him. By the time we got to the car, Everett still hadn’t acknowledged me. I scrambled to buckle my seatbelt, and he slammed his foot on the gas. The acceleration pinned me to the seat. I didn’t dare say a word. I felt like I should just get on my knees and apologize. How am I supposed to fix this? Should I say I was possessed? Should I say I was just passing by? Is he going to fire me? While I was spiraling in fear, the car stopped. We were home. Everett got out, rounded the hood, and before I could even step out, he hauled me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Everett… Everett!” My stomach was pressed against his shoulder, and it hurt. I struggled a little. He gave my backside a firm, sharp smack. “If you have that much energy left, you’re staying up all night with me.” “…” My ears turned bright red. I went limp on his shoulder, not daring to move.

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I am my company’s “lucky charm,” the boss’s ultimate talisman. To keep me around, the boss tried to seduce me with his looks. When that failed, he offered me a monthly salary of $88,000. I didn’t have to do any actual work. My everyday routine was just slacking off and getting paid for it. Half a year later, the boss had a whirlwind wedding, and his new wife was helicoptered in as the Executive Vice President. Seeing how much free time I had, and finding out her husband used to aggressively pursue me, she decided to kick me out while he was away on a business trip. “I don’t tolerate freeloaders in my sight. HR, give her a standard severance package and tell her to get lost!” My colleagues frantically pleaded for me: “VP, please reconsider! She’s our lucky charm, a living four-leaf clover. The company literally cannot survive without her!” The boss’s wife was furious at their pleading and stubbornly accused me of sleeping with the boss. I wasn’t going to take that kind of insult. I went straight for the jugular. “Give me three months’ severance, and I’ll leave immediately!” Hehehe. My best friend had just started a company right upstairs, and I was stressing over how to find an excuse to quit. Thank you, Mrs. Boss, for the generous triple-salary severance gift! 01 My name is Penny Cash. Before I turned eighteen, I was a total magnet for bad luck. After starting college at eighteen, I met my roommate, Goldie Price, who was just as unlucky as I was. Two negatives make a positive. On the very first day we met, we bought a boba tea that came with a promotional scratch-off ticket, and we won $88,000. From that day on, our bad luck vanished, and we finally got to live normal lives. After graduation, I submitted hundreds of resumes, all of which sank to the bottom of the ocean. I was exhausted. Let it all burn. I laid around at home like a corpse for three months, and the more I laid there, the happier I felt. Just as I was about to abandon the idea of working altogether, determined to comfortably live off my four retired grandparents as a useless freeloader, the boss of a soon-to-be bankrupt company found me. “Ms. Cash, I’m begging you to save my life. Come work for my company, name your salary!” I thought it was a scam and flatly refused. This boss pulled a “persistence pays off” routine and staked out my house for eight days and eight nights. I called the cops. It turned out to be a massive misunderstanding. The boss finally revealed the truth. “My company is on the verge of bankruptcy. I suspected it was an occult issue, so I hired a top-tier psychic. The psychic pointed me to a solution: find a 22-year-old recent female college grad with the last name Cash living in Apartment 8B, Building 8 of Emerald Estates. Bring her in as a lucky mascot, and our luck will turn around.” “Ms. Cash, I’m at the end of my rope. Science can’t solve this, so I have to try the occult. Otherwise, my company goes under, I go bankrupt with tens of millions in debt, and the hundreds of employees under me will be jobless. In this terrible economy, what are they supposed to do…” The more he spoke, the more heartbroken he got. By the end, he was literally wailing and sobbing in front of me. The cops couldn’t do anything and told us to resolve it ourselves. I went to his company for an on-site inspection. After looking at his various corporate licenses and certificates, confirming he was indeed the boss, I decided to help him out. “A monthly salary of $8,800. We’ll sign a one-year contract first. I’ll just be a lucky mascot. I won’t do anything, just lay flat and slack off every day, okay?” “Oh, by the way, I don’t want standard weekends. I want a four-day workweek. I’ll pick one weekday every week to take off.” Based on the current market rate for fresh college grads, and compared to my classmates’ salaries, $8,800 was definitely upper-tier. I had no skills, and I didn’t want to do anything. I was already very satisfied with this salary and benefits package. The boss, Harrison Cole, was also very satisfied. He agreed to all my demands and immediately signed the contract with me. I originally thought I just had dumb luck and ran into an idiot boss who had been brainwashed by a con artist. But right after we signed the contract, the Sales Director burst in, announcing that the major client he had been chasing for two months had agreed to sign—and was willing to increase the upfront deposit to 50 percent. The deposit from that order alone was enough to bring the company back from the dead. The boss dropped to his knees right there and gave me three loud, resounding kowtows. “My dear God, from now on, you are my Goddess of Wealth!” 02 Where there’s a first time, there’s a second, and then a third. The first resurrection from the dead could be called a coincidence. But in the days that followed, any business negotiation I attended was a guaranteed success. Any difficult client could be handled as long as I was there. Even when colleagues ran into stubborn clients, all they had to do was walk past my desk, chat with me for a bit, and when they went back, the client would instantly become incredibly agreeable. I, Penny Cash, was just that mystical! I coasted like this for half a year. My status in the company was even higher than Harrison’s. Everyone said: You can offend the boss, but you absolutely must not offend me, or you’ll definitely be cursed with bad luck. This point was proven three months into my employment. An intern saw me doing absolutely nothing all day. I don’t know if she felt unbalanced or if she just had bubbles in her brain, but she insisted on “cleaning up the workplace.” She used me as a target, a negative example, and fiercely criticized me. In the conference room, she tore me down to nothing, scolding me mercilessly. Because she was telling the truth, I didn’t dare make a peep. I was as quiet as a quail. She left feeling incredibly satisfied. As a result, on her way home from work that very night, she got into a car accident. She lay in the hospital for half a month. When she came back, she refused to believe in the curse and tried to cause trouble for me again. Unsurprisingly, before the workday was even over, right after she tried to mess with me, she tripped over her own feet and face-planted hard, her arm violently smashing into a desk. Well, that did it. She earned herself a fracture, a three-day hospital stay, and a cast for half a month. It all happened too coincidentally. If I wasn’t the person involved, I would have thought this intern was a paid actor I hired. After this incident, the legends about me in the company became even more bizarre. Everyone practically wanted to build a shrine for me. Especially that intern—her attitude did a 180-degree turn, and she became one of my most loyal sycophants. In just six months, the company on the verge of bankruptcy not only came back to life but scaled up to the point of preparing for an IPO. Because of this, my reputation as a lucky charm spread wildly through the CEO circles. Quite a few bosses wanted to poach me. The offers they threw out kept getting better and better. Harrison Cole, of course, knew this. To keep me, in my fifth month, he confessed his feelings to me, hoping to use his looks to tempt me. But he wasn’t my type. I wasn’t interested in this older, father-figure type of man. After I politely rejected him, he agonized over it, losing sleep every night and showing up to work with panda eyes. I couldn’t stand watching it, so I gave him a tip. “Mr. Cole, I may not like you, but I love money!” His eyes burst with joyful light. He finalized it on the spot. “Great! Liking money is great! I’ll give you a raise!” “A monthly salary of $88,000. Let’s get rich together, it’s a lucky number!” It was indeed very lucky. The month after my raise, the company’s performance was better than the previous five months combined. Because he was single-mindedly pursuing love, thirty-year-old bachelor Harrison finally found the girl of his dreams that very month. He had a whirlwind wedding. He brought us a boss’s wife, hired her into the company, and gave her the position of Executive Vice President. A lot of people in the company knew that Harrison had pursued me. So, in front of the boss’s wife, Victoria Lodge, people rarely brought me up. Harrison himself didn’t dare bring me up either. Victoria always assumed I was just some low-level employee earning a cheap salary to do nothing. Until the payroll was distributed that month. Victoria, on a whim, audited the employee payroll and discovered my astronomical salary. She was a fiery, impulsive woman. When she encountered a problem, she had to resolve it on the spot. But that day, Harrison happened to be on a business trip deep in some remote, mountainous area for a week-long project inspection, completely unreachable. Victoria spent two days investigating me. Finally, she reached a conclusion. I was an overpaid, useless parasite coasting by on my looks, waiting to die in the company. And someone who could potentially replace her position as the boss’s wife at any moment. 03 She was furious. She couldn’t sit still. She gathered all the company’s employees in the conference room for a meeting. Once everyone was present, she slammed my six-month payroll statement onto the conference table. “Slacking off from morning till night, doing absolutely nothing! Penny Cash, what gives you the right to take a high salary of $88,000 a month?” “The rest of your colleagues work themselves to the bone every day, and the most they make is thirty or fifty grand! What gives you the right? Do you feel at peace taking this money? Doesn’t your conscience hurt?” The conference room was dead silent. Victoria thought her words had stirred everyone’s emotions and looked quite pleased with herself. “You earn what you work for. Penny, you do absolutely nothing all day and have contributed nothing to this company. So I’ve decided: starting next month, your salary will be reduced to $800.” “The original $88,000 will be used to give an across-the-board raise to all the employees!” “Nobody has a problem with this proposal, right?” Huh? Wait a minute? Using my salary as a favor to buy people’s loyalty for herself? Is this human behavior? You can touch me, but you can’t touch my money. I slammed my hands on the table and stood up. Just as I was brewing my emotions and thinking about what to say, my dear colleagues couldn’t sit still anymore. First was the Director of Sales Department 1. A forty-something rough-and-tumble guy from Texas, Mike Dawson. “VP Lodge, I disagree. Giving employees a raise is your own prerogative. What gives you the right to deduct from Penny’s salary?” “Being generous at someone else’s expense, do you have bubbles in your brain?” “Let me make my stance clear right now. I don’t want this money. Don’t give me a raise!” After he spoke, the other colleagues nodded in full agreement, stating they didn’t want this raise and that my salary couldn’t be cut. “Penny has made the biggest contributions to the company. You can’t cut her pay. That $88,000 is exactly what she deserves. It’s lucky!” “VP Lodge, you’d better wait until Mr. Cole gets back to discuss this, otherwise, you’re definitely going to cause a massive disaster!” Everyone chimed in, one after another, fully defending me. Victoria’s face turned livid with anger. She slammed the table and kicked a chair. “Enough! Shut up, all of you!” “I don’t tolerate freeloaders in my sight. HR, process her severance with a standard package, and tell her to get lost!” Not cutting my pay anymore, now she’s making me resign? As soon as these words came out, the conference room exploded even more. “VP, you can’t do this! Penny cannot leave!” The Director of Sales Department 2 almost freaked out. “Penny is our company’s lucky charm! If she leaves, what happens to our business? How will we close future deals?” The other colleagues echoed her sentiments. “Yeah, VP. If we don’t have Penny, how are we supposed to handle difficult clients in the future?” “Exactly! If we don’t have Penny, when we meet a tough client, won’t I have to revise my proposals until I drop dead? You can’t do this, VP, please spare my miserable life…” “VP, you can’t drive away our mascot! When Mr. Cole gets back, he’s definitely going to lose his mind!” “Boss’s wife, she’s our lucky koi! The company literally can’t survive without her!” … More and more people pleaded for me. Victoria’s face grew uglier and uglier. The way she looked at me became extremely dark. I accidentally made eye contact with her and it gave me the chills. So scary. Victoria banged on the table twice. “All of you, shut your mouths!” “What’s wrong with all of you? Every single one of you protecting her? What? Am I your boss’s wife, or is she?” “I knew she was sleeping with Harrison! You’re defending her so hard, you must have taken plenty of bribes from her before, right?” “You, you, and you—the ones yelling the loudest. Have you slept with her too?” A warrior can be killed, but not humiliated! You can hit me or scold me, but you absolutely cannot start dirty rumors about me! I’ve been single since birth for twenty-three years, a pure, super innocent little girl! Seeing the people she named turning red with anger. I slammed the table. “Enough, Victoria!” “Give me three months’ severance, and I’ll leave right now!” 04 The noisy conference room fell instantly silent. Everyone looked at me. Director Mike Dawson looked at me in disbelief, appearing as though he was about to cry. “P-Penny, what did you say? You want to leave? You’re abandoning us?” The Director of Sales Department 2, Lily Henderson, lunged over and hugged my arm in a death grip. “Penny, you can’t go! If you leave, how am I supposed to survive…” The usually aloof, professional woman was crying like a child in front of me. I patted her head. “Ah, well, all gatherings must come to an end. Since the VP doesn’t like me and finds me to be an eyesore, staying at the company would just be a thorn in her side, wouldn’t it?” “Anyway, I’m tired of this job too. As long as she can give me three months’ severance, I’ll pack my things and leave immediately.” “Lily, don’t stop me. We’re talking about over two hundred and sixty thousand dollars here…” Saying this, I looked at the crowd with a bright smile. “Plus, everyone knows that a lot of companies have been trying to poach me. The offers they’re giving aren’t any worse than here…” Victoria let out a cold scoff. “You? Other companies want to poach you? You must be dreaming.” “Once you leave our company, you useless piece of trash, you won’t even find a job paying a thousand bucks!” At this point, everyone clearly saw that Victoria was not someone to be reasoned with. If I stayed, there would definitely be endless conflict. So everyone stopped trying to make me stay and instead offered me their sincere blessings. “Penny, wishing you a bright future. Keep in touch, and come back to visit us when you have time.” I smiled and thanked them. Laughing secretly to myself, of course I’d come back to see them. After all, my front foot steps out of this company, and my back foot steps right upstairs. Hehehe. Finally, I met Victoria’s gaze. “VP, do you accept my proposal? Three months’ severance, paid immediately. As soon as I get the money, I walk.” There was a reason I insisted on getting paid immediately. My best friend, Goldie Price, told me two months ago that she was opening a company, and she picked the location right upstairs from us. It officially opened just two days ago, and she had already rushed me several times, asking when I was going to come work for her. I was stressing over how to break it to Harrison Cole. Now this was perfect. Victoria handed me a pillow just as I wanted to sleep. But I was still worried that when Harrison came back, he’d refuse to honor it, and use withholding the triple severance to force me to come back. So, it was definitely better to settle it instantly. Victoria’s brain was currently a bit scrambled from being stimulated by the colleagues’ defense of me. She finalized it on the spot. “Fine! Three months’ severance it is! As long as you’re willing to leave, it’s just over two hundred grand. I can afford it!” HR processed my resignation on the spot and wired me my final paycheck and severance, totaling $264,000. The moment I received the money, my colleagues cast sympathetic looks at Victoria. At the same time, they started worrying about their own futures. I happily counted my bank balance, turned back to my desk, and began packing. All my colleagues watched me leave. The two Sales Directors escorted me out, flanking me on the left and right, as we walked out the company doors together. Victoria followed right behind us, keeping a distance of about two meters. The three of us had just stepped out the door, while she was just reaching the entrance. Suddenly, the company’s sign hanging overhead detached and plummeted straight down toward Victoria. A chorus of gasps erupted. “VP!” “Get out of the way!” Victoria realized something was wrong, looked up, and let out a terrified scream. “Ah!” “Help!” 05 By the time the three of us turned around to look, the sign had already crashed right at Victoria’s feet. Although it didn’t hit her, it scared the living daylights out of her. The colleagues who hadn’t stepped out of the office yet silently took a step back, their faces full of lingering fear. At the same time, they started whispering to each other. “It’s starting, it’s starting. The last person who offended Penny, Sophie… if I recall correctly, it was a car accident followed by a broken bone, right?” “Yeah, yeah, Sophie had it rough! Our mascot Penny’s authority is absolute!” “I tried to warn the VP not to be so impulsive. Look, she just kicked Penny out, and a second later she almost got crushed by the sign. Yikes…” “I feel like the VP is going to suffer some serious bad luck lately… she might even face a bloody disaster…” With everyone murmuring, Victoria, who was just scared half to death, instantly flew into a rage. She lifted her leg, stomped fiercely on the fallen sign, and glared viciously at the colleagues still inside. “A bunch of superstitious, filthy trash! This was just an accident! What does it have to do with Penny Cash?” “You say I’m going to have bad luck, but what bad luck did I have? The sign didn’t hit me, did it? You all saw it, it grazed right past me. It fell so close but missed. Shouldn’t you all consider me the lucky mascot instead?” She actually started feeling smug about it. The other colleagues who witnessed the whole thing weren’t buying it. They rolled their eyes to the ceiling. The receptionist standing closest, Rainy Adams, mumbled softly, “Grazed you? That sign fell inches from your face. If you weren’t flat-chested, it definitely would have knocked you over. You probably would’ve broken every bone in your body.” As she spoke, she proudly thrust out her own impressive chest. At a 36D, she certainly had the capital to be proud. The look in Victoria’s eyes was murderous. She stormed over to her viciously and slapped her right across the face. “You bitch! You dare say I have small boobs? Who the hell do you think you are? You think having a big chest makes you special? I’ve hated you since the first day I saw you. Strutting around the office all day with your chest pushed out, who are you trying to seduce?” “HR, get your ass over here, give her a standard severance package, and tell her to get lost too!” With that slap, everyone was stunned. Rainy clutched her cheek, taking a long moment to process it. “You hit me? Victoria, you dare hit me?” I silently lit a candle in my heart for Victoria. A lot of people in the company didn’t know that Rainy’s mother was actually the landlord of this entire premium office building. No, more accurately, this entire block of office buildings belonged to Rainy’s family. And Rainy, after hearing about my reputation, had shamelessly begged to be the receptionist at our company. She said her mom had hired someone to read her fortune this year. It said she would face a fatal disaster at age twenty-four. The only way to resolve it was to find a female college grad in her early twenties with the last name Cash living in Apartment 8B, Building 8 of Emerald Estates, and spend at least half the month with her. When Rainy told me this, I seriously suspected the fortune teller her mom hired was the exact same feng shui master Harrison Cole had used. Because of this, she even moved into the apartment right below mine. We commuted together every day, and she brought me homemade lunches daily. Her cooking was amazing. The thought of leaving the company and potentially missing out on her cooking made me feel quite melancholy. But Victoria saying she wanted to fire her actually played right into my hands. 06 Victoria was acting incredibly arrogant, one hand on her hip, the other pointing right at Rainy’s nose. “I hit you, so what? I’m the boss’s wife, I can hit whoever I want!” The HR manager, who also knew Rainy’s background, quickly tugged at Victoria’s hem. “VP, you can’t fire Rainy, she’s…” “She’s what? What kind of incredible background could a crappy receptionist have?” Victoria looked incredibly annoyed, threatening HR. “If you dare say one more word, believe it or not, I’ll fire you too?” The HR lady rolled her eyes to the ceiling. She gave up trying to persuade her and solemnly confirmed with Victoria. “VP, are you absolutely sure you want to terminate Rainy Adams without cause and pay out her severance?” Victoria nodded firmly, “I’m sure.” “Stop wasting time and process her paperwork right now!” HR obediently did as told. While the paperwork was being processed, Rainy swiftly packed her things, hugged her cardboard box, and stuck to my side. “Penny, I told you we were meant to be. We even got fired on the exact same day, hehehe.” She giggled foolishly. Victoria looked at us and sneered coldly. “Everyone, take a good look. This is the consequence of offending me. If you don’t want to get fired and want to keep working here, you’d better keep your eyes open from now on and know who the real master of this company is!” Since I joined this company, profits were good, and bonuses were plentiful. The colleagues’ salaries and benefits also rose. It was a coveted workplace in the industry. Many people wanted to work here, but the hiring standards were high, so there wasn’t much new blood coming in. Unless someone was exceptionally talented, they couldn’t get in. Now that Victoria had laid down the law, many colleagues kept their mouths shut. After giving me a hand signal, they quickly returned to their desks. Sitting rigidly upright, terrified Victoria would go crazy and implicate them. Victoria was very satisfied with the employees’ tactfulness. She crossed her arms, looking at us standing by the elevators, and mocked us. “I want to see what kind of good jobs you two can find after leaving this company! Two useless parasites relying on your looks to coast by!” She denied our abilities, but she acknowledged our beauty. That… actually made it kind of hard to hate her. I exchanged a glance with Rainy and almost couldn’t hold back our laughter. “VP, thank you for the compliment. Best of luck to you.” A flash of confusion crossed her eyes, but we didn’t bother explaining. We stepped into the elevator and went upstairs. 07 My best friend, Goldie Price, was already waiting for me in her office. As soon as we stepped into the company, confetti rained down on our heads, wave after wave. “Welcome, welcome, a warm welcome!” My bestie rushed forward and gave me a massive bear hug. “Penny, I finally waited for you! From now on, us sisters are going to build a massive empire in the city!” The employees standing on both sides of the main entrance applauded thunderously. Rainy Adams stood behind me, dumbfounded. “As expected of a mascot. This is the kind of grand reception a mascot deserves!” She knew Goldie had opened a company upstairs, considering she was the one who signed the lease for this entire floor over to us. I held Goldie’s left hand and turned back to hold Rainy’s right hand. Standing beneath our company’s sign, my heart surged with passion. “Golden Fortune LLC.” A glittering, gold-plated sign. It looked grand and prosperous. Not bad at all. I was very satisfied. The company had been open for three days. Employees were in their positions, working systematically. As the co-owner with 45% of the shares, I couldn’t just slack off and lay flat like I used to. But clearly, Goldie understood me perfectly. She handled all the company’s affairs wonderfully; there was absolutely no need for me to do anything. When I started dozing off looking at documents for the Nth time, she poured me a glass of water. “Sister, if you really can’t take it, why don’t you go lie down for a bit? I’m terrified you’re going to hit your head on the desk.” As noon approached, Rainy brought food in from the room next door. She walked to the dining table with easy familiarity, setting out the dishes as she spoke: “Penny, you worked hard all morning. Come eat. I made your favorite sweet and sour spare ribs and wild ginseng chicken soup.” Rainy’s current position was still the company receptionist. But the actual receptionist role out front was already filled, so she didn’t have to stay at her post all the time. Both Goldie and I had experienced her culinary skills. So, on the second day after we onboarded, we built a small private kitchen right next to my and Goldie’s offices specifically for her. The aroma of the food finally drove the sleepiness out of my brain. Full of energy. “Alright!” Three dishes and a soup. It was the perfect amount for three girls. Just as we were eating, the other receptionist rushed frantically into our office. She looked genuinely panicked, forgetting to even knock. “Ms. Price, Ms. Cash, this is bad! There’s a man outside claiming to be Ms. Cash’s boss causing a scene, insisting we hand Ms. Cash over!” Oh my. I had forgotten about that. Harrison Cole, who was inspecting a project deep in the remote mountains, was scheduled to return to his company today. But with delicious food right in front of me, I couldn’t let it go to waste. I swallowed a mouthful of chicken soup. “Let him wait. The sky could fall, the earth could crack, but eating is the most important thing. Don’t let him interrupt my meal.” The receptionist hesitated. The next second, Harrison burst in. With a sliding kneel. He dropped straight to his knees right in front of us. “Penny! My Goddess of Wealth, please come back! The company can’t survive without you!” A thirty-year-old grown man, currently crying like a complete idiot. I rolled my eyes and spit out a chicken bone.

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A photo leaked online. It showed the lean, tensed waist of Xander Sterling—the heir to the Sterling tech empire—covered in a massive tattoo of a Hibiscus. A hand, wearing a pink diamond ring that cost more than a private jet, was pressed firmly against his rock-hard abs. Fingers tipped with blood-red polish rested right in the center of the bloom. It was pure, unadulterated fire. That same night, A-list starlet Seraphina Frost posted a photo of a ring. It was a perfect match for the pink diamond in the leak. The internet went nuclear. Everyone was congratulating the “it-couple” on their secret engagement. Only I knew the truth. She was clout-chasing. Because that hand in the photo… was mine. 1 I’m a “nobody” in Hollywood. Two years since my debut, and I’ve only booked three shows—all minor supporting roles. It’s not because I lack talent or a “sugar daddy” to bankroll my career. It’s because I have a boyfriend who is a world-class jealousy addict. Xander Sterling. He can’t stand the idea of me doing a romantic scene, and he hates it when I’m away on location for months. He’d honestly prefer it if I were tethered to him at all times. As a result, I’ve remained a fringe actress, hovering at the bottom of the A-list. My agent finally booked me a spot on a high-profile reality show to get my face out there. The twist? I’d be sharing the stage with Seraphina Frost, the lead from a fantasy epic I once played a maid in. The same Seraphina currently “confirming” her engagement to my boyfriend. … The show was live-streamed with a real-time fan chat. The host announced: “Let’s play a game. Seraphina and Scarlett, you’ll both draw a challenge from the jar.” In typical reality TV fashion, the “random” draw was rigged. Seraphina went first and pulled out a card the producers had clearly planted: [Cook a home-style meal and invite a close friend to the set to dine with you.] The chat immediately lost its mind: [Chat: This was SO planned! They want her to invite the Sterling Heir!] [Chat: If Xander Sterling shows up, this show’s ratings will break the internet!] [Chat: I need to see Seraphina and Xander being cute together. Goals!] Xander Sterling is a legend in the city. Pedigree, lethal good looks, and a collection of vintage Ferraris that could fund a small country. The rumors about him and Seraphina started a year ago when she “accidentally” posted a photo of a custom silver Ferrari identical to one of his. Over the next twelve months, she dropped hints—matching watches, same-day vacation spots, and eventually landing an endorsement deal for a luxury brand owned by Sterling Global. Her fans ate it up. They called it the “modern-day fairy tale.” The peak was three days ago. Xander had posted that “thirst trap” photo on his private social media. His tensed abs, the Hibiscus tattoo, and that hand with the red nails and the pink diamond. Seraphina’s “matching” ring post that night was seen as the ultimate confirmation. The internet was already planning their wedding. But I knew better. I took that photo while I was pinned under him in a moment of… celebration. The original photo included his face—wearing a pair of ridiculous cat ears I’d forced on him—but he’d cropped the top half before posting. The host looked at Seraphina. “So, Seraphina, who are you inviting? Could it be the man everyone is talking about?” Seraphina glanced at the monitor, playing coy. “He’s incredibly busy, but… usually, if I call, he drops everything for me.” A soft blush crept onto her cheeks. “Let me try him.” The host leaned in. “We have to know—what is his name in your contacts?” Seraphina turned her phone to the camera. The contact name was just one letter: [X]. The chat went into a frenzy over the “intimacy” of the nickname. Seraphina smirked and hit dial. 2 As the face of a Sterling brand, it wasn’t hard for her to get his office line. The call connected quickly. A professional, smooth male voice answered—definitely not Xander’s. “Miss Frost? Is something wrong?” I recognized the voice. It was Caleb, Xander’s executive assistant. Seraphina explained she was filming a show and wanted him to come for dinner. The reply was clipped: “I’m afraid Mr. Sterling is in a board meeting. He is unavailable.” The line went dead. Seraphina hadn’t put it on speaker, so only those of us on set heard the cold rejection. She didn’t blink. She put on a practiced “annoyed girlfriend” face and sighed to the host. “He’s such a workaholic. Board meetings, always board meetings.” The chat was undeterred: [Chat: Even his assistant knows her! It’s basically official.] [Chat: Can you imagine being so rich you stand up a movie star for a meeting? Sterling is such a boss.] [Chat: Seraphina is basically the First Lady of the Sterling Empire at this point.] The host played along. “That’s a shame. Who else will you invite?” Seraphina tilted her head. “Give me a second to think… I have so many options.” While she “thought,” the host turned to me. “Scarlett, your turn. Same challenge. Who are you inviting? A fellow actor?” I shook my head. “No, not an actor.” “A friend? Family?” I hesitated, then nodded. “Can we ask who it is?” I thought about the human volcano of jealousy waiting for me at home. The challenge required me to invite someone to a public dinner. If I invited any other man, Xander would literally level the building. So, I said his name. “Xander Sterling.” The host’s smile froze like a wax apple. The live chat exploded. [Chat: What is this Scarlett girl doing?] [Chat: The audacity! You’re inviting another woman’s fiancé?] [Chat: This is the ultimate clout-chase. A nobody trying to steal Seraphina’s spotlight!] The producers were torn. On one hand, the ratings just doubled. On the other hand, Seraphina’s fans were becoming toxic, and they were worried about the stream getting flagged for harassment. The host, sensing drama, asked, “And what do you have him saved as in your phone? Can we see?” I looked at the lens and shook my head. “The number is private. I can’t show the screen.” Xander’s personal cell was a state secret. I wasn’t about to leak it on live TV. The chat hissed: [Chat: She’s lying!] [Chat: There’s no way a D-list actress has his personal cell! Thirsty much?] Only a few lonely voices tried to defend me: [Chat: To be fair, if it IS his real number, she’d get sued for showing it…] Seraphina’s face was dark. Her voice was sharp. “Some people need to know their place. Chasing clout you didn’t earn usually ends in a career-ending crash.” I didn’t even look at her. I just hit dial. 3 Three rings. Xander didn’t pick up. My brows knit together. Another three rings. He declined the call. My jaw tightened. I remembered what the assistant had told Seraphina: Mr. Sterling is in a board meeting. Xander wasn’t a trust-fund playboy; he actually ran the empire. He took his work seriously. Declining a call during a meeting wasn’t new, and he always called back to apologize. But being humiliated like this on live TV? My blood was simmering. The chat was a bonfire of mockery. [Chat: LMAO! REJECTED!] [Chat: Did she really think he’d answer her? Delusional.] Seraphina looked at me with fake pity. “Scarlett, honey, I know you wanted a viral moment, but this is just embarrassing.” She pointedly displayed her red-manicured nails to the camera. “You don’t have a very good sense of humor, do you? That joke was… awkward.” The atmosphere on set turned ice-cold. The host scrambled to recover. “Seraphina, have you decided on your guest?” Seraphina nodded gracefully. “I’ve invited Sebastian Vance, the lead designer for the E’S fashion house. He’s on his way.” The chat pivoted back to praising her. [Chat: Her circle is insane!] [Chat: E’S is basically Sterling’s personal wardrobe. This is a huge flex.] While the host interrogated Seraphina about the designer, my phone vibrated in my pocket. A text from Xander. Xander: [Baby, I’m in a meeting. My dad is chairing the year-end review. I have to play the good son today.] Xander’s father was a traditional, stern man who had already chewed him out for the tattoo. Last night, in the bathtub, Xander had been whining to me about it. He complained that if he was going to get yelled at for a “Scarlett-themed” tattoo, he at least deserved the right to go public with me. He had been so pathetic and needy that I’d finally caved and agreed to let him go public. And now, this show was the perfect stage. I thought about the rejected call and felt like being a brat. I texted him the details of the live stream and dangled a carrot: Scarlett: [If you miss this chance to go public, we might have to wait another year. Your choice, big guy~] This time, the reply was instant. Xander: [I’m on my way.] 4 With the guests confirmed, we started cooking. I worked in silence, while Seraphina spent the entire time chatting with the host. “Sebastian is a very close friend of mine and Xander’s,” she told the camera. “Most of our custom gala pieces come from his studio.” The chat was buzzing. [Chat: E’S is the ultimate Sterling brand. Seraphina sounds like she’s already the matriarch of the family.] I glanced at her. The smugness on her face was almost blinding. E’S was indeed a brand under the Sterling umbrella. But the real mastermind behind it wasn’t “Sebastian.” It was Stanley Vance, a legendary tailor who had served the Sterling family for decades. Xander had told me that Sebastian was Stanley’s son, a guy who hated his real name (Stanley Jr.) and insisted everyone call him Sebastian to sound more “European.” The show’s pattern was clear now: The producers wanted to contrast me against Seraphina—the “Nobody” vs. the “Future Sterling Queen”—to generate rage-clicks and engagement. The host walked over to me, smiling that fake, sugary smile. “Scarlett, since Mr. Sterling was… busy, did you find someone else to join us? You can invite your parents or a friend if you’re lonely.” The chat followed her lead. [Chat: She has no friends. Look at her.] [Chat: Bet she invites her Uber driver.] I didn’t look up from the tomatoes I was slicing. “Who said Xander Sterling isn’t coming?” The host froze. She glanced at the director, wondering if this was a scripted twist she’d missed. “So… Mr. Sterling is actually coming?” “You’ll see in twenty minutes, won’t you?” I smiled at her. Seraphina scoffed. “Integrity is a rare quality, Scarlett. I hope you find some eventually.” The chat was a mess. [Chat: She is obsessed!] [Chat: Seraphina literally just said he’s in a meeting! This Scarlett girl is mental!] I ignored them. I ignored Seraphina. I had a beef brisket to braise. Halfway through the prep, the host exclaimed, “Oh! You’re both making the same dish? Tomato-braised Brisket? What a coincidence!” Seraphina looked at the camera, her voice cold. “Tomato brisket is Xander’s favorite dish. It’s also my specialty.” Translation: I’m the real one. She’s the copycat.

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My boyfriend was undercover in a Central American cartel for three years. He finally came back safe and sound. On the night of our wedding, while we were being intimate, he suddenly asked: “Tell me, what kind of rabbit walks on three legs?” My heart stopped. This riddle was a secret code Liam and I had established between us. A rabbit represented danger, and the number following it indicated the threat level. A three-legged rabbit meant a Code Red emergency! 1 My brain exploded like a bomb had just gone off. The next second, I suppressed the horror rising in my chest and began to pant softly. “Are you seriously trying to play brain teasers right now?” Liam lifted his head from my neck and gave me a light bite. “I heard someone ask it during the toast earlier, and no one could guess it. I figured my smart wife would know the answer instantly.” Yes, I knew the answer. This riddle had no answer. Three years ago, Liam was deployed undercover to infiltrate a cartel in Central America. His survival was completely uncertain. The night before he left, I said, “Let’s come up with a secret code that only the two of us know.” “A three-legged rabbit means danger, because rabbits have the fastest reaction time to a threat.” “And the reason we use the number three is because of the saying ‘a smart rabbit has three burrows.’ A three-legged rabbit represents a Code Red crisis.” “Liam, this way, if you’re ever in danger, I’ll know.” He didn’t laugh at my childish idea. Instead, he seriously linked his pinky finger with mine. “Alright. Then I’ll be waiting for my wife to come rescue me.” Yet, the Liam in front of me was completely oblivious to the meaning of this question. It had only been three years. Could he really have forgotten? His mannerisms, his tone, even his habits and sequence during intimacy were exactly the same as before. Trying to push away the lingering doubt, I stopped his roaming hands. I looked embarrassed. “Hold on, Liam… I think my period just started…” “Already?” A flash of suspicion crossed his eyes. “When we calculated the wedding date, didn’t we specifically avoid your cycle?” I feigned guilt and explained, “Work has been crazy lately. To get time off for the wedding, I pulled all-nighters for a week straight. My hormones are probably just out of whack.” He cupped my face with concern. “Work isn’t as important as your health, you silly girl. I’m going to have to keep a close eye on you from now on.” Seeing the pure, genuine concern in his eyes, I secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe I was just being paranoid. Three years as an undercover operative must have been terrifying, walking the line between life and death every single day. It would be normal to forget a silly joke. Soon, Liam brought me a hot water bottle and thoughtfully brewed me a cup of ginger tea. “Drink some of this to warm up.” I accepted it with a sweet smile, but the moment I took my first sip, my heart plummeted to rock bottom. There was brown sugar in it. I am severely allergic to brown sugar. In college, I once accidentally drank boba tea with brown-sugar-flavored pearls and broke out in full-body hives. Liam had to rush me to the ER in the middle of the night. There was absolutely no way he wouldn’t know. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. This man… he wasn’t Liam. 2 I stared at the pitch-black ceiling, my heart racing. Our wedding was held at Liam’s family’s old farmhouse in his rural hometown. Liam’s parents passed away when he was young, and he was practically raised by the neighborhood. During the toasts, he accurately recognized every single relative and neighbor, even remembering that his Uncle Joe had injured his leg working in the fields and couldn’t eat ginger. How could there be two identical people in the world? Fear pumped back into every blood vessel in my body. Was he brainwashed? Had he flipped sides? Impossible. Liam was the most loyal, righteous person I knew. During a massive earthquake rescue mission, he had thrown himself into danger without hesitation. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been selected for the most dangerous undercover assignments. I quietly rolled over and opened his Facebook page. He was a private person and rarely posted. His latest update was from three days ago. He posted an old photo of us. We were holding a bouquet of flowers, smiling at each other in front of our college gates. The caption read: My girl. Let’s walk together until our hair turns gray. For a man about to get married, this was completely normal. The comments below were all congratulations. My eyelid twitched. Something was wrong. We had a pact. Because of the nature of his work, he couldn’t show his face publicly. Liam was always incredibly vigilant. “I’ve made a lot of enemies. Chloe, you need to be careful too.” Once, I took a selfie that captured half of his profile. He aggressively made me delete it permanently. I was genuinely angry then. “I waited three whole years for you! For three years, I couldn’t tell anyone where you went. You didn’t come to my parties, you didn’t meet my friends. People thought I made up a fake boyfriend!” “That cartel ring was dismantled, Liam! Can’t you just relax?!” But he was stubborn. “The monsters over there are far more terrifying than we can imagine. I’m afraid there are stragglers. Chloe, don’t hate me for being paranoid. For the past three years, my caution is the only reason I’m still alive.” I bit my lip hard and scrolled further down. Half a month ago, Liam returned to his hometown to renovate his family’s old farmhouse for the wedding. On April 26th, he posted a photo of the freshly painted front door, along with a page from a philosophy textbook. It was a book I had accidentally left behind during my first visit to his hometown the summer of our junior year. But why did he post this specific page? Suddenly, I remembered that summer. On a whim, Liam wanted to teach me basic cryptography. He liked tracing the codes on the palm of my hand and making me guess the pattern. I’m extremely ticklish. Every time, I couldn’t help but giggle and squirm into his arms. “Liam, are you just using this as an excuse to touch me? Are you even trying to teach me?” His expression would turn serious, and he’d stare at me intently while tracing three sets of numbers on my palm again. “Numbers correspond to letters. Use the logic I just explained to decipher it yourself.” I thought hard for a long time before blurting out, “I… I love you?” As soon as I said it, I realized I had been played. I angrily started punching his chest. Liam laughed so hard his chest rumbled, his eyes filled with the joy of a successful prank. “Exactly. I love you. Congratulations, Chloe, you’ve mastered it.” The memory slowly crystallized. My heart hammered against my ribs. I zoomed in on that page of the book over and over again. Comparing, dismantling, and reassembling the text line by line. Liam, this has to be for me. It has to be! Following the method he taught me years ago: first extract the first letter of each paragraph, then shift the entire second paragraph back one space, offset the third paragraph by two spaces, and continue sequentially… Finally, from the dense block of text, I extracted a terrifying message. [THE RABBIT HAS HUMAN EYES] [TRUST NO ONE, INCLUDING ME] 3 The blood in my veins turned to ice. A rabbit meant danger. So Liam had already realized something was wrong. Why didn’t he tell me? Was he afraid I’d get dragged into the danger? Why would a rabbit have human eyes? I chewed on those two phrases over and over. Liam, what exactly are you trying to tell me? Who was the person sleeping in the same bed as me tonight? Countless thoughts collided in my head. The more I thought about it, the more panicked I felt. I needed to step outside for some air. My footsteps suddenly stopped. Because I saw a makeshift convenience stand set up outside the old farmhouse. This year was the Year of the Horse on the lunar calendar, but Mr. Chen’s display counter had a tattered, torn poster of a rabbit from the Year of the Rabbit. The rabbit’s eyes had been scribbled over with a marker by a child, drawn to look like human eyes. This was the rabbit with human eyes! I suppressed my surging emotions and pretended to make casual small talk. “Mr. Chen, when Liam was renovating the old house, I bet he bothered you a lot, huh?” Mr. Chen waved his hand and laughed. “What are you talking about? That wild boy has always looked out for me.” “That boy pays attention to detail. My eyesight is bad, and I always have people buying things on credit and never paying me. He came up with the idea for me to set up shop right here. If anyone tries to stiff me, I just go to him.” “Right! He even specially installed a security camera for me! This way, if anyone tries to pull a fast one, I know exactly who it is!” My heart started beating even faster. A camera? So the “rabbit with human eyes” had a double meaning. The second layer meant surveillance! “Could I take a look at it?” I stared intently at the screen, my palms clenched so tight they were slick with cold sweat. April 26th, the day he made that Facebook post. In the footage, Liam rushed inside in a hurry, only leaving with a duffel bag half an hour later. I suddenly sat up straight. It had just finished raining that day. When Liam walked in, his combat boots were covered in mud. But when he walked out, his boots were brand new and perfectly clean! Anger, intertwined with pure terror, rushed back into every blood vessel in my body. I broke out in a cold sweat. The Liam who walked out was a fake. The real Liam had been swapped out within that half-hour window! 4 My brain was buzzing. If the one who walked out was a fake, where was the real Liam? Liam was a former Special Forces operator, and after years undercover, he was a hardened combat veteran. How could he be subdued so easily? What exactly happened to him? I made a split-second decision and called Liam’s handler at the agency. After I gave a detailed report, the handler didn’t react the way I expected. “Ms. Davis, are you saying the Liam who came back is an imposter?” He sounded distracted. “Just because he forgot a joke you two made three years ago? And forgot you don’t eat brown sugar?” I was getting desperate. “Please believe me. I don’t know how he did it, but this man is definitely not Liam!” “Do you have any proof? Hard evidence.” My throat went dry. “I… I don’t.” The handler let out a sigh. “Do you have any idea what he went through over the past three years?” My chest tightened. “He said it was classified. He never told me…” “He carried out multiple high-risk missions and barely made it out alive several times. The only thing that kept him going was the thought of you. To help him return to a normal life, we used mild hypnosis to suppress his most traumatic memories.” The handler’s tone suddenly turned serious. “Of course, we also ran identity verification protocols. There is absolutely zero chance he was replaced.” My eyes welled up, but my conviction didn’t waver. “If he survived for me, then his memories of us aren’t traumatic. He wouldn’t forget them.” “Because I love him, I can tell this man is not Liam. I’ll send you this security footage. Once you watch it, you’ll know.” After a moment of silence, the handler finally agreed. I watched the progress bar on the video transfer tick up slowly. Until it hit 98% and froze completely. The cell reception in the mountains was terrible. Just as I was about to shift positions, a voice spoke from right behind me without warning: “It’s useless. You won’t be able to send it.” My blood ran cold, and every hair on my body stood on end. I stiffly turned my head. Liam was standing there with one hand in his pocket, looking at me calmly. I had no idea how long he had been standing there. “Chloe, a mudslide just wiped out the cell tower in the village. The network will be down for 48 hours.” His voice was so gentle I couldn’t detect a single hint of malice. “Perfect timing. We can have a completely uninterrupted honeymoon.” “Isn’t that just wonderful?” 5 Terror washed over me like a flood. “Baby, who were you just on the phone with?” The man stared at me, asking coldly. My brain went into overdrive, desperately trying to suppress the sound of my ragged breathing. “Who else? My boss. He wanted me to write some copy for a video. Unbelievable. I can’t even get a break on my honeymoon.” “Is that so?” The fake Liam clearly didn’t believe me, and snatched my phone straight out of my hand. In that moment, I forgot how to breathe. The screen lit up, showing a work group chat with 99+ notifications. The fake Liam checked every single app before finally smiling and handing the phone back to me. “Ignore people like that. If it gets to be too much, just quit. Your husband will support you.” I forced a smile and agreed, turning back toward the bedroom acting as if nothing happened. The second I closed the door, I collapsed onto the floor. Thank God. I had sent the video using a burner phone. It was currently hidden in my jacket pocket. But the bad news wasn’t over. The village was nestled in a valley between two mountains. There was only one dirt road connecting it to the main highway, and right now, that only exit was blocked by a landslide. The village was completely cut off from the outside world. I’m trapped. That was the first coherent thought in my mind. No internet, no road. Stuck for 48 hours. I used a chopstick to peek through a tiny slit in the bedroom curtains. Through that gap, I realized Mr. Chen’s convenience stand was gone. In its place were several small, makeshift vendor stalls. The vendors were not focused on attracting customers; instead, they constantly glanced toward the farmhouse. I was being watched. I forced myself to calm down and assess the situation. First, making a run for it blindly was a dead end. I didn’t know the terrain, this was a premeditated operation, and I had no idea how many accomplices they had out there. But the question remained: why had they replaced Liam and gone through so much trouble to get close to me? For what? I was just a regular corporate employee. What could they possibly want from me? Or… did Liam have something they wanted? Maybe evidence against the cartel, or some classified secret. They suspected I knew and were trying to pry the answer out of me. In a flash of inspiration, a crazy idea formed in my head. What they wanted might just be my way out. I had to take the offensive. 6 I called the fake Liam into the room. I asked him to help me count the wedding cash gifts from yesterday. Halfway through, I casually said, “Honey, when we get back, let’s put this money in the safe and use it to renovate our new place.” This was a double lie. First, we had already agreed to live in my current apartment, which required no renovations. Second, we didn’t even own a safe. I controlled my tone carefully to sound natural, even though my back was drenched in cold sweat. The man’s hands paused almost imperceptibly while counting the cash. “A safe?” He took the bait. My heart was hammering so hard it felt like it would leap out of my chest. “Yeah, the one you always use to store your documents.” A glint gathered in the fake Liam’s eyes, but he was cautious, replying ambiguously: “You don’t think it’s a hassle to keep cash in there?” I complained intentionally, “You’re the one who thinks everything is a hassle! Then why did you go through all the trouble of building a hidden compartment for it? And you insist on only using cash when we go out, saying you don’t want to ‘leave a paper trail.’ I didn’t even want to mention it, but we’re not in Central America. You don’t need to be so paranoid about everything.” The fake Liam found an excuse to step outside to make a phone call. When he came back, he grabbed his car keys. “We’re driving back now?” I acted shocked, glancing at the terrible weather outside. “How are we going to get back? Didn’t you say the road was blocked by a mudslide? That’s too dangerous.” “The village chief just said there’s a backroad. You’re busy with work, it’s not good to be unreachable without internet.” The fake Liam displayed an irrepressible excitement, grabbing my arm with a grip that brooked no argument. “We’re leaving right now.” 7 The rain was pouring down in buckets, obscuring the road ahead. I was looking for a chance to escape, so I purposely didn’t put on my seatbelt when I got in the car. The fake Liam noticed immediately and leaned over. Our eyes met, and I couldn’t suppress a shudder. “Chloe, you always follow the rules when you sit in the back. What’s wrong today?” I felt like I was sitting on pins and needles. The backroad was incredibly rugged, full of sharp twists and turns. The fake Liam was stepping hard on the gas, and taking a sharp corner, the rear wheels got stuck in deep mud. He glanced at me. “Go get the tire iron from the trunk.” The moment I opened the car door, the wind and rain nearly ripped the umbrella out of my hands. The man squatted on the ground, struggling with the tire. I gripped the heavy metal tire iron tightly, my heart in my throat. I knew very well I only had one chance. If I missed, there wouldn’t be a second one! Just as the man reached up to grab the tire iron and turned his head— I pulled a hammer from the back of my waistband and smashed it down on his skull! THUD— I was positive I made solid contact, but the man just stood up as if nothing happened. “Oh my, so you figured it out. Where did I slip up?” His tone was mocking, his eyes venomous. At this moment, the man had completely dropped his gentle facade. I turned to run, but he violently tackled me to the muddy ground. A wave of sharp pain erupted across my body as the man pinned me down, his hands wrapping tightly around my throat. Muddy water rushed into my nose. Black spots danced in my vision, and I asked, nearly drained of all my strength: “What did you do to him…” “Ah, on the verge of death and still thinking about your man. You want to know where Liam is? Then trade his secret for it.” He leaned in close, his breath carrying the metallic stench of the rain. “Spit it out. What exactly did he leave with you? Hand it over, and I might consider letting you go.” He coaxed me, while his grip on my throat continued to tighten. I struggled, tears streaming down my face. Just as my vision blurred completely, my hand finally reached the pocket knife hidden in my cargo pants. I swung my arm up and plunged the knife deep into his abdomen! “You stupid bitch—” As the small blade sank into his gut, the man let go of his grip. I used the opening to roll down the muddy slope and ran for my life. The fake Liam’s screams were swallowed by the howling wind and rain. I didn’t dare stop. I lost my shoes in the torrential downpour, my bare feet sliced open and bleeding profusely. Just as I was about to collapse from hypothermia and exhaustion… A figure lunged out from the tall grass. It was a man dressed in black. He aggressively covered my mouth and dragged me deeper into the brush. “Shh, don’t make a sound.” “I’m Liam’s unit commander. I’m here to rescue you.” 7 (Part 2) The man introduced himself as Agent Vance, Liam’s direct supervisor. His voice sounded exactly like the one on the phone, and he had a badge from the agency. I was… rescued? I hadn’t even processed the terror before this, and everything felt surreal. “But how did you know I was here? Isn’t there no cell service?” “Because we hadn’t received your file transfer, we were worried something happened, so we came looking. Since the main road was blocked, this backroad was the only way out. I saw the abandoned car and followed the trail here.” Agent Vance was highly experienced in field operations. He could determine our direction just by observing the bark on the trees and the way the grass was bent. I followed him as we navigated through the forest. “The top bosses of that cartel faked their own deaths in a car crash to escape. Liam uncovered their plan, which is why he’s in danger.” My heart sank. I grabbed his arm and asked desperately, “Then how is he doing now?” “He should be at the safe house. Don’t worry, once he’s in the safe house, communication is strictly one-way. He can only contact us. During this time, you must keep whatever he gave you completely secure. It’s the key to taking them down.” I felt like I had been hit over the head with a baseball bat. The world spun. “What did you say?” “I’m saying, the agency might have a mole. To be safe, it’s better if you hold onto it.” My blood ran ice cold. I didn’t have anything. And I had never mentioned having anything on that phone call. The man standing right in front of me was working with the fake Liam! 8 Which meant my escape was also part of their plan. They wanted to give me a glimmer of hope when I was at my most desperate, thinking I would spill all my secrets. The freezing rain soaked through my body, straight into my soul. The speed at which someone matures when hovering between life and death is unimaginable. Right now, I was far calmer than I thought possible. After about half an hour, Agent Vance found his concealed SUV and told me to get in the passenger seat. After he started the engine, a flash of inspiration hit me. He hadn’t put on his seatbelt. I put on a fragile, pleading tone. “Agent Vance, I’ve thought about it, and it’s safer if you hold onto it. Liam trusts you so much, and I can’t handle this by myself.” After begging him a few times, Agent Vance reluctantly agreed. “Alright, if you say so.” As the car navigated a sharp bend, I mumbled something softly. Because the rain was so loud, Agent Vance couldn’t hear me clearly and instinctively leaned his body toward me. Now! I violently grabbed the steering wheel and jerked it hard! The car instantly lost control and plummeted down the embankment. Agent Vance was thrown forward violently by the impact, smashing his head against the dashboard and instantly knocking himself out. I struggled to unbuckle my seatbelt and squeezed out of the wreckage. But I barely made it a few steps before I collapsed, unable to stand. A massive shard of glass had embedded itself deep into my thigh. Agony ripped through my entire body, and black spots consumed my vision. Then, I completely lost consciousness. 9 When I woke up in the hospital, three days had already passed. I was incredibly lucky to have been found by a group of hikers. At the time, I was suffering from severe blood loss and hypothermia. If I hadn’t been rushed to the hospital in time, I would have died out there. “Ms. Davis, hello. I am the real Agent Vance.” I struggled to open my eyes. The man standing in front of me was wearing a police uniform, projecting a strong, authoritative aura. “The imposter who posed as me was a fugitive from the cartel. He wanted to kidnap you to retaliate against Liam, but we’ve already apprehended him.” What did that mean? Had they found Liam? Was he… still alive? I had so many questions, but my body felt like a puddle of mud. I could only manage to force out the words, “Did you… find Liam?” Agent Vance smiled and said, “Of course. Hasn’t he been by your side this entire time?” I froze, and the next second, I felt like I was plunged into a freezer. The door opened, and Liam rushed in, taking the steps two at a time. The moment I saw him, I understood everything. I let out an inhuman scream. “He’s a fake! He’s an imposter!” I practically shrieked, “He’s not the real Liam! He’s an imposter!” Agent Vance and the nurses all looked at me with exasperation. “Ms. Davis, Liam hasn’t eaten or slept in the three days you’ve been unconscious. He was worried sick about you. How can you say something like that?” I stared dead at the man. He put on a face full of concern, his eyes swimming with hurt and grievance. “He has a stab wound on his abdomen. I stabbed him during our fight. If you don’t believe me, run a fingerprint analysis on the handle of the pocket knife.” Agent Vance explained, “Ms. Davis, his wound was from struggling with the man who impersonated me. That man has already confessed to everything he did. You must be experiencing memory confusion from being in a coma for so long.” To my shock, the usually silent “Liam” spoke up. “You’re right. I’m not your Liam.” Then, he slowly dropped to his knees beside my hospital bed. His eyes were red, his face full of pain and grievance. “It’s true, I’m not the man you loved three years ago.” “Three years undercover completely altered my personality. I became paranoid, hyper-vigilant. I’m not the Liam from your memories, and it’s all my fault!” “I swear, I’ll never forget that you can’t eat brown sugar again, and I won’t forget a single word you’ve ever said. I’ll turn back into the man you love. Just give me a little more time. Forgive me, accept me, please?”

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During my most reckless year, I secretly had a baby behind Ethan Reed’s back. At the time, his startup had crashed and burned, leaving him buried under a mountain of debt. I was terrified we’d both starve if I stayed, so without a word, I packed my bags and ran while I was still pregnant. I didn’t hear a word about him for five years. Now, he is the ruthless CEO of the Reed Conglomerate, the most powerful man in the city. But the tabloids say a car accident left him unable to ever have children of his own. I looked at my son, who was fighting a life-threatening illness, and finally made my choice. “Come on, Leo. Mommy’s taking you to see your dad.” 1 In the hospital bed, little Leo rolled his eyes at me the moment he heard those words. “Mom, are you finally losing it? You told me my dad died a long time ago.” I let out a nervous laugh. “Well, he was really sick, and I thought he wasn’t going to make it. Who knew he’d get a miracle cure?” Leo’s eyes suddenly sparked with hope. “Does that mean I can get a miracle cure too? Can I go home like Dad did?” I nodded firmly. “Absolutely!” Kids are so easy to convince. A few soft words and he was all in. Leaving the ward, I pulled up the news on my phone again. It was a headline from The Wall Street Journal: Tech Titan Ethan Reed Rendered Infertile Following Near-Fatal Crash. At first, I thought it was just someone with the same name. But then I clicked on the article. The man in the photo wasn’t just another Ethan Reed; he had the exact same sharp jawline and piercing eyes as the man I had abandoned. Coincidences like that don’t exist in the real world. There was only one explanation: Ethan had been lying to me back then, too. He was never just some broke kid with a dream. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or devastated. But for Leo, this was a lifeline. I booked a flight to New York for the next morning. When my mom brought dinner over later that evening, I was already packing. “Are you going on another business trip? Are you really dumping the boy on me again?” she grumbled. “What did I tell you? I told you not to have that kid, but you wouldn’t listen. Now you spend your days working and your nights dumping him on me. I’m supposed to be enjoying my retirement, not playing full-time nanny.” I looked at Leo, who had just woken up, and whispered, “Mom, can you please not say that in front of him? He might be small, but he understands more than you think.” “Oh, so you can do it, but I can’t talk about it?” “Mom, if you’ve got a second, just go give Leo a hug. I’m taking him to New York tomorrow.” My mother froze. She pulled me into the hallway. “Did you find the money for the surgery? Where did you get that kind of cash, Chloe? You’ve been struggling just to keep the lights on these past few years. Where would you get thousands of dollars?” I kept my head down, not ready to tell her the truth. “Don’t worry about it. Just know that once we leave, I don’t know when we’ll be back. You go ahead and enjoy your ‘peace and quiet.’ Leo and I won’t be a burden anymore.” My mom’s face fell instantly. “You brat. You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? You know I’m all talk. I love that kid more than life itself.” She sighed, wiping a stray tear. “Fine. Forget I said anything. Let me go see my grandbaby.” 2 Early the next morning, my mom was a sobbing mess as she held Leo. “My sweet boy, Grandma’s going to miss you so much. Once you’re all better, you come straight back to me, okay?” See? That’s how people are. The moment you’re actually leaving, they realize they can’t stand to see you go. Before we checked in at the airport, she pressed a debit card into my hand. “I scraped some savings together. It’s not a fortune, but it should help with the initial bills. You know the PIN. Take care of my boy.” I waved goodbye, my heart aching. If she knew I was handing Leo over to Ethan Reed, she’d probably kill me herself. On the flight, I started coaching Leo. “Listen, when we meet these people, you have to call me ‘Auntie Chloe’ if there are strangers around. Got it?” “Why?” Leo tilted his head, his little face full of confusion. I patiently explained, “Remember I told you your dad was sick? Well, when he was struggling, I didn’t stay to help him. He probably hates me now. If he knows I’m back, he might try to get even with me.” Leo blinked, trying to process the grown-up drama. “Mom, aren’t you going to stay with me at Dad’s house?” I felt a surge of guilt and couldn’t look him in the eye. “Once you’re all better, Mommy will come and take you home.” “Promise?” “Promise.” “Pinky swear?” “Yeah, baby. Pinky swear.” 3 I didn’t go to Ethan directly. Instead, I pulled every string I had to track down Ethan’s mother, Mrs. Reed—a woman who radiated old-money elegance even in a simple silk scarf. She sat in a quiet, upscale bistro, looking entirely out of place in our part of town, her designer sunglasses hiding her expression. “You claim you have a child? A son belonging to my Ethan?” she started, her gaze slowly shifting from me to Leo. The next second, her breath hitched. “Oh my god… he’s a miniature Ethan.” She reached out, her hands trembling as she pulled Leo closer to inspect him. “This… this is unbelievable. He looks exactly like Ethan did at that age.” She wasn’t exaggerating. Even though Ethan hadn’t been there for a single second of the pregnancy or birth, Leo was his carbon copy. I handed over Leo’s medical files and his birth certificate. “Leo was diagnosed with a congenital heart defect a year ago. He needs a very expensive, very risky surgery. If you have any doubts, I’m more than willing to do a DNA test.” Mrs. Reed’s expression turned somber. “And you are…?” “I’m just the messenger. I have no intention of staying. If the Reeds are willing to take him in and save his life, I’ll disappear immediately.” Mrs. Reed stepped away to make a phone call. An hour later, she led us to the top-tier private hospital in the city. A nurse arrived with a sample of Ethan’s DNA—a strand of hair. The moment the results came back, Mrs. Reed’s eyes lit up with a predatory kind of joy. While the doctors took Leo for an initial evaluation, she pulled a thick envelope of cash from her purse and pushed it toward me. “Thank you. The Reed family will ensure the boy is well taken care of.” I declined the money. I had intended to raise this child on my own. It was just that our luck had run out. As I turned to leave, Leo broke away from the nurses and ran toward me. “Auntie, you aren’t going to lie to me, right?” His eyes were red, and he was clutching his chest. He still remembered our pinky swear. I knelt down and cupped his face. Over the past year, the illness had made him look much smaller and frailer than other five-year-olds. I wasn’t a good mother. I had failed him. I choked back my tears. “Remember what we said? Pinky swear.” 4 I didn’t leave the hospital until I saw the Reeds settle Leo into a private VIP suite. Back at my motel, my heart felt like a hollow shell. It felt like I had just cut out the most important part of myself and left it on that hospital bed. I lay there for hours, staring at the peeling wallpaper. Suddenly, my phone rang. It was an unknown number. I hesitated, then picked up. “Where are you?” A deep, gravelly voice vibrated through the speaker. “Who is this?” I asked instinctively. But even as the words left my mouth, my body recognized that voice. On so many breathless nights, he had whispered into my ear, telling me he loved me. “You know exactly who this is. Send me your location. Now.” The tone was absolute. I gripped the phone, my knuckles white. “I think you have the wrong number.” I hung up immediately, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. Five years later, why was Ethan Reed calling me? How did he even get my number? Before I came here, I’d done my research. Ethan wasn’t married, but he had been with the same high-society socialite for years. If the news about his infertility was true, Leo was his only heir. That was the only reason I was willing to give him up. Life with Ethan Reed was a golden ticket compared to the life I could offer. But I was different. I was the gold-digging ex-girlfriend who had dumped him when he was at his lowest. I didn’t want anything to do with him ever again. The next morning, I went back to the hospital for one last look at Leo before heading to the airport. As I approached the suite, I saw Ethan. He was in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, sitting by the bed, focused entirely on peeling an apple. He hadn’t changed much, but he carried an aura of power and sophistication that he never had back in our cramped studio apartment. Leo was clearly hungry; he didn’t wait for Ethan to finish and leaned forward to take a bite out of the half-peeled apple. They both shared a small, genuine smile. My eyes stung. Maybe this really was the happy ending Leo deserved. I turned away, wiping my face. Suddenly, inside the room, Ethan snapped his head toward the door, looking exactly where I was standing. My heart nearly stopped. I ducked behind the wall, my breath hitching. He didn’t see me. A moment later, I heard Leo’s giggling through the door. 5 It was clear Ethan loved the boy. That was all I needed to know. I pulled up my phone to book an Uber to the airport. I needed to keep moving, or I’d lose my nerve. But I wasn’t paying attention and walked straight into someone. “Oh! I’m so sorry, are you okay?” the person asked. I looked up and froze. I was looking at a very familiar face from the tabloids—Madison Vance, Ethan’s long-term girlfriend. I stammered, “I’m fine, sorry about that.” I tried to push past her, but Madison grabbed my arm. “Wait, you just came from that direction. Is that the pediatric wing?” I blinked. She was going to the pediatric wing? To see Leo? I looked at her more closely. Madison was stunning—soft, elegant, and perfectly put together. She didn’t look like the “evil stepmother” type. She was carrying a fruit basket in one hand and a massive LEGO set in the other. Because of the gifts, she hadn’t been able to dodge me when I walked into her. I was about to answer when a voice boomed from behind me. “Madison.” My spine turned to ice. Madison smiled and walked past me toward Ethan. “This hospital is a maze. I almost got lost.” Ethan gave a distracted nod, but his eyes were fixed on me. “Who were you talking to?” I could feel his gaze burning through my back. “Oh, just someone passing by. We bumped into each other,” Madison said casually. I let out a breath, desperate to run. But Ethan spoke again. “You. Turn around.” It wasn’t a request. Madison seemed to sense the tension and tried to intervene. “Ethan, what are you doing? She’s just a stranger. I’m fine, really. Let’s just go see the boy.” Ethan didn’t move. He thought I had hurt his girlfriend. The irony was almost funny. Five years, and nothing had changed. I was still the one in the wrong. I slowly turned around and looked Madison in the eye. “I’m very sorry for bumping into you, Ms. Vance.” The entire time I spoke, Ethan’s eyes never left my face. He didn’t say a single word. 6 After leaving the hospital, I drove straight to the bus station. The whole way there, I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Ethan had looked at me. I remembered five years ago. His startup had just tanked, and the debt collectors were literally banging on our door. I had offered him my last ten thousand dollars—all my savings—to help him out. He had looked at me with that same intense gaze and pulled me into his arms. “Baby, I can’t take your money. Trust me, I’m going to make it. And when I do, I’m going to give you the wedding of your dreams.” Back then, I didn’t think he was lying. When we first met, we both had less than a thousand dollars to our names. We shared a one-bedroom apartment. I slept in the bedroom, paying five hundred a month. He slept on the couch for three hundred. We split the utilities. Neither of us thought we’d end up falling in love. Ethan had a drive like I’d never seen. He worked until 3 AM every night. One night, I came home from a girl’s night and saw him still hunched over his laptop. “I brought some leftover pizza. You want some?” I asked. He practically leaped off his chair. “Starving!” We talked all night. That was when he told me he had walked away from his wealthy family, swearing he wouldn’t go back until he was a success on his own terms. I encouraged him. I told him he had the talent to make it if he just found the right niche. Ethan looked at me like I was his entire world. Because I was there for him when things were dark, he asked me to be his girlfriend the moment his business started to show a spark of life. We stayed in that same apartment. But instead of the couch and the bed, we both shared the bedroom. He took over the full rent. Life was finally looking up. But then, reality hit us. Hard. The debts from his first failure caught up to him, and he was drowning. He was home less and less. And that was when I found out I was pregnant. At first, I was too scared to tell him. I just wanted to help him get through the crisis. But then, I accidentally overheard him on a phone call. “Look, Chloe and I… it’s not what you think. Stop interfering, okay? Relax. Dating is one thing, but marriage? I’ll pick someone appropriate when the time comes.” I was Chloe. I was furious. I felt like a fool. Here I was, ready to sacrifice everything for him, and he was already planning my replacement. I decided right then that I wasn’t going to be the girl who starved while waiting for a man who didn’t even see a future with her. I left. To get even, I left a note on the kitchen table. I don’t see a future with you anymore. I’m moving on to someone who actually has a chance at success. I’m sure you understand—everyone has the right to chase a better life. I blocked his number and deleted my socials. It wasn’t until I was on the bus back to my hometown that I realized I was still carrying his child. 7 I thought about going back to confront him, to tell him about the baby. But every time I thought about that phone call, I realized it would just be another humiliation. He never planned on a future with me. As for the baby… well, he was already here. I’d just let nature take its course. Later, I heard snippets of news. His company had been revived. He’d cleared his debts and was expanding. I blocked the person who told me. I didn’t want to hear about his success. When Leo was born, my mom complained, of course. But the moment Leo flashed his first toothless grin at her, she turned into a puddle. Since my dad passed away, Leo had become her reason for living. She watched him while I worked. Life was simple, but it was enough. Until Leo got sick. Sometimes I wonder if I’m being punished for something I did in a past life. Every time I think things are finally going right, the universe finds a way to knock me down. … I snapped back to reality and realized I was crying in the middle of the bus terminal. Great. I still had to figure out what to tell my mom. My bus wasn’t for another hour. Just as I was settling into a plastic chair, my phone buzzed with a FaceTime request. It was my mom. I didn’t want to answer, but she was persistent. I finally swiped to accept. “Where’s my boy?” she demanded the second the video connected. I rubbed my nose. “He’s… he’s right here next to me.” “Let me see him.” I tilted the camera slightly. “He’s sleeping, Mom. He doesn’t want to be disturbed.” My mom wasn’t born yesterday. “Chloe, are you at a station? You said you were getting the surgery done. Why are you at a station? Put the camera on Leo. I want to say hi.” I stared at her, unable to move. “Chloe, what are you doing? Are you ignoring me now?” I barely heard her. My heart had stopped because, on the screen behind me, I saw Ethan Reed’s face. He was standing right behind me. My mom was still lecturing me. “If anything happens to that boy, I’m never forgiving you!” “Mom, I have to go.” I cut the call, my hands shaking. I turned around slowly, trying to look composed. “Can I help you?” I couldn’t pretend I didn’t know him anymore, especially since my kid was in his hospital. Ethan stared at me, his jaw tight. “You’re still as heartless as ever, Chloe. You dumped me five years ago, and now you’re dumping our son too?” I stood up, my temper flaring. “Watch your mouth. I didn’t dump you. You’re the one who told your family I wasn’t ‘appropriate’ for marriage!” Ethan frowned, looking confused. I pushed past that. “If you actually care about Leo, will you let me take him back once he’s healthy?” “In your dreams.” I knew it. Now that the Reeds had an heir, they’d never let him go. “Fine. Take good care of him. I won’t show my face again.” After all, Ethan had a girlfriend to marry. Leo was going to have a stepmother. My presence would only make things awkward. 8 The intercom announced that my bus was boarding. I grabbed my suitcase and looked at Ethan. “Thanks for coming to see me off. Tell Leo that as long as he keeps fighting, there’s hope.” Suddenly, a hand clamped around my wrist. Ethan dragged me toward the exit of the station. “What are you doing? Let me go!” I struggled, trying to pry his fingers off. “Ethan, let go! My bus is leaving! I’m going to miss my trip!” “Then stay.” He stopped and looked me dead in the eye. “Stay?” And then what? I didn’t dare ask. I wasn’t interested in being the “other woman.” If I were Madison Vance, I’d be losing my mind right now. Ethan didn’t let go. If anything, he stepped closer. “What are you so afraid of? You said you were going to chase a better life, yet you secretly had my son and raised him in a dump. You owe me an explanation, Chloe.” Before I could respond, he swept me off my feet and threw me over his shoulder. “Wait!! Ethan! Put me down! I’m calling the cops!” “Go ahead. The police don’t get involved in domestic disputes.” !!! He carried me out of the terminal and tossed me into the back of a waiting SUV. The driver looked terrified. “Sir, should I drive?” “Drive!” Ethan raised the privacy partition, trapping me in the corner of the seat. “You got pregnant and didn’t tell me. You had the baby and didn’t tell me. He got sick, and you still wouldn’t tell me. You went to my mother instead of me. Am I really that unreliable to you, Chloe?” “Aren’t you?” I snapped back without thinking. “Ha.” Ethan let out a dry, humorless laugh. “So that’s what I am to you.” I didn’t want to talk to him anymore. “It doesn’t matter now. We have nothing left to say to each other.” Ethan looked up. “Nothing left to say? Fine. Then let’s just do it.” I stared at him, sure I had misheard. Until he grabbed the back of my head. His face grew larger and larger in my vision. At the last second, I twisted my head, and his kiss landed on my cheek. I swung my hand and slapped him across the face. “Have you lost your mind?!” Ethan touched his stinging cheek and started laughing. “I lost my mind the second I found out we had a son.” 9 Ethan took me back to his estate. He tossed a set of silk pajamas at me. “Take a shower.” I’m an adult. I knew exactly what a shower in the middle of the day implied. I threw them back at him. “I’m not showering. And I’m definitely not wearing another woman’s clothes.” Ethan’s face darkened. “They’re brand new.” “I don’t care.” Ethan stepped closer, his voice dropping an octave. “Fine. If you won’t shower yourself, I’m happy to do it for you.” I had already felt how strong he was. I knew I wouldn’t win a physical fight. I cursed him under my breath and took the pajamas into the bathroom. Thirty minutes later, I walked out. Ethan was already lying in the massive bed. It was obvious he had showered too. I knew what was coming next, and my heart felt like it was being shredded. “Ethan, what do you think I am?” Tears started streaming down my face. “I have nothing left. Are you really going to take the last bit of dignity I have?” Ethan sat up and reached for a tissue to wipe my face. “Don’t cry. I just want you to sleep. Your dark circles are so bad not even makeup can hide them.” I froze. I hadn’t slept a full night since Leo got sick. I worked double shifts and spent the rest of my time at the hospital. For the first few months, I had lost fifteen pounds. Even my mom was worried, making me soup every day. But it was the path I had chosen. I brushed his hand away. “I don’t need your pity.” Ethan gritted his teeth, his jaw working. “You’re still the same, Chloe. It kills you to ever back down.” “So, can I go now?” Ethan sighed, seemingly defeated. “Fine. But only after you take a nap with me.” Seeing the look I gave him, he added, “Just sleeping. I won’t touch you.” “Why?” “Because I haven’t slept in three days either.” I lay down on the edge of the bed, as far from him as possible. Ethan rolled onto his side to face me. “Come closer.” “Don’t push your luck.” “Six months ago, someone tried to take me out. I was in a massive car crash. I almost died. The rumors about me being infertile? They’re true. The crash did permanent damage. So even if you sleep right next to me, I can’t do anything.” I gripped the duvet, my heart skipping a beat. “What about your girlfriend? She’s still with you, isn’t she? Aren’t you worried about betraying her?” “Girlfriend? Who told you I have a girlfriend?” Ethan propped himself up on one elbow. “You mean Madison Vance?” Suddenly, Ethan started laughing. A deep, genuine laugh. “Never mind,” he said after a moment. “Just sleep.” He ignored my protests and pulled me into his arms. At first, I couldn’t relax. But listening to his steady, rhythmic heartbeat, my eyes started to feel heavy.

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After sleeping in separate rooms from my boyfriend, Ethan, for half a year, my period started getting highly irregular. I went to the hospital, and an older, holistic doctor told me I had a severe hormonal imbalance, suggesting I needed to be more “intimate” with my boyfriend. That night, wearing lace lingerie, I knocked on Ethan’s bedroom door. He was on the phone with a female colleague and didn’t even look at me: “I’m busy. Another day.” I looked at him for a moment, then nodded. “Okay.” 1 After coming home from the doctor’s office, I dug out a set of lace lingerie that had been buried at the bottom of my drawer and spent ages posing in front of the mirror. At 28, I didn’t look vastly different from when I was 25. But there was a visible exhaustion beneath my eyes, and my skin felt a bit dry. Even though I technically had a boyfriend, my face somehow carried the aura of a lonely, single woman. No wonder the doctor said my hormones were out of whack. After all, Ethan and I had started sleeping in separate rooms last year. He said he was too busy, had too many surgeries, and complained that I was a restless sleeper who always hugged him and ruined his rest. Even when I promised to change, he still moved into the guest room. Ethan had always been somewhat repressed and was never particularly enthusiastic about that aspect of our relationship. Since we started sleeping in separate rooms, our already sparse intimate life hit rock bottom. From once a week, to once a month. And now? The last time we were intimate was probably two or three months ago. I took a deep breath. Knocking on his door felt incredibly ironic. This was my own house. This was my own boyfriend. Yet, initiating intimacy with him made me feel a humiliating mix of shame and anxiety. Inside the room, Ethan was on the phone with someone. His voice was cool and indifferent, as usual. But this was his reading time—a time even I wasn’t allowed to interrupt. The fact that he had the patience to stay on the phone at all was unusual. “It might be a hemangioma. I’ll take a look at it tomorrow—” The voice behind the door stopped abruptly. The sheer fabric did little to cover my body. I tugged at it nervously and called out softly toward the door: “Ethan, are you asleep?” After a moment, the door finally opened. Ethan was wearing gray loungewear, holding his phone as he stepped out. When he saw me, he froze, instinctively frowned, and covered the phone’s receiver with his hand. “Why are you dressed like that?” It was already awkward enough, but his question made my face burn. I forced myself to speak: “We haven’t slept in the same bed for a long time.” I bit my lip. “Do you want to sleep together tonight? I promise I won’t hug you and ruin your sleep.” “Not tonight. I have things to do.” He rejected me without a second of hesitation. “Another day.” “Wait—” I reached out to grab the door handle. He loosened his grip on the phone, and a young woman’s voice drifted out from the speaker: “Dr. Davis?” Her voice was beautiful—clear, bright, and unmistakably belonging to a very pretty, young girl. And it sounded very familiar. If I wasn’t mistaken, it was Maya, the new surgical intern in Ethan’s department. I had met her once when I visited him at work. She was still a med student, with striking, radiant features, carrying herself with effortless confidence. I heard she was Ethan’s junior from med school, an overachiever who had won countless awards. She was excellent. Just as excellent as Ethan. I gathered my courage. For a split second, I wanted to say so many things. I wanted to ask why they were on the phone so late at night. I wanted to ask if he could just talk to her tomorrow. I wanted to say that I didn’t actually even want to sleep with him, I just hadn’t held him in so long. I missed him. But looking at the growing impatience in Ethan’s eyes, all my words condensed into a single sentence. “Okay. Have a good night.” He swept a glance over my lingerie and shut the door. From start to finish, he didn’t express a single thought about what I was wearing. I honestly would have preferred if he told me I looked terrible in it. It would have been better than this complete, utter dismissal. It felt like a humiliation. I stood blankly in front of the closed door, listening to his low voice from inside: “It’s nothing. Just a minor interruption. Keep going.” 2 Probably due to my hormonal imbalance, I developed insomnia, tossing and turning in sheer frustration. Eventually, I got up, grabbed a few cans of cold beer from the fridge, chugged them down, and finally drifted into a hazy sleep. In my twisted, chaotic dreams, I was back in college, dreaming of Ethan. I had been at the beach with friends, nearly drowned, and was pulled out of the water not breathing. It was Ethan, just passing by, who gave me CPR and literally dragged me back from the brink of death. I still remember coughing up water, opening my eyes, and blurting out my first blurry vision: a breathtakingly handsome face that seemed utterly incapable of showing emotion. He looked like an angel sent from above, bathed in a halo of light. His face showed no reaction, as if he had just done the most mundane thing in the world. Seeing the ambulance arrive, he simply turned and walked away. After that, I searched for him for a long time, but I never found him. Until I was 23, when our paths crossed again. My heart pounded violently in my chest as I cautiously approached him. “Hi.” Ethan looked up at me, his expression indifferent. “Hello.” He didn’t remember me at all. … After that, I started chasing Ethan. Delivering umbrellas in the rain, bringing him dinner when he worked overtime, dropping off medicine when he was sick. I visited so frequently that everyone in his department knew me. The nurses went from glaring at me with hostility to looking at me with a mix of pity and admiration: “Chloe, you’ve got a heart of steel to chase a guy this cold for so long. Respect.” Ethan never gave me an opening. He rejected me time and time again. I had heard the phrase “I don’t like you” so many times my ears were growing calluses. I wanted to give up, but what could I do? I liked him too much. After stubbornly chasing him for a full year, Ethan suddenly sent me a text. “Come see me now, and we can be together.” My heart practically leaped out of my throat. I grabbed an Uber and rushed to his hospital. But when I pushed open his office door, I saw a gorgeous woman with voluminous waves sitting there. Ethan grabbed my hand and said to her, “I told you, I already have a girlfriend. Stop harassing me.” Later, I found out Ethan was just sick of the endless women throwing themselves at him. He chose me to be his shield because I caused the least amount of drama. But that didn’t matter. I liked him, and that was enough. I figured that if we stayed together long enough, even a heart of ice would eventually melt. But I never expected… Ethan’s heart wasn’t made of ice. It was made of solid iron. On our third anniversary, he still hadn’t fallen in love with me. We had no shared hobbies, no common topics of conversation. He left early and came home late, and during the rare moments we were together, he was always busy. And now? We didn’t even sleep in the same bed anymore. Under the same roof for three years, I felt further away from him than ever. At 3 AM, I opened my eyes, feeling the dampness on my pillow. I was getting tired. 3 On the exact day of our three-year anniversary, I sent Ethan a text. “We need to talk.” I couldn’t stand this arrangement anymore—two people together in name, but living entirely separate lives. I wanted to ask him what exactly he was thinking. After a long time, Ethan replied: “Okay. I get off shift at 7.” I breathed a sigh of relief. I prepared a table full of food and poured some wine, wanting to have a serious talk about my feelings. But 7 PM came and went, and he wasn’t home. It wasn’t until late into the night that there was a knock on the front door. I went to open it. Maya, wearing a chic beige trench coat, was supporting a drunk Ethan. She smiled at me: “Oh? You are…?” I paused for a second. “I’m Ethan’s girlfriend, Chloe. You’re Maya, right? I’ve heard Ethan mention you.” “Oh, I didn’t realize Dr. Davis had a girlfriend.” She smiled. “He hasn’t mentioned you to me at all.” She looked me up and down, her tone ambiguous. “I never would have guessed Dr. Davis liked this type.” I was at home, wearing a fluffy, oversized cartoon bear pajama set, barefoot. I had seen these matching couple pajamas online and loved them, so I bought a set. Ethan never wore his, not even once. Maya, on the other hand, wore a sophisticated black turtleneck, tailored white trousers, and a pair of designer heels. I didn’t know the brands, but she radiated a highly intellectual, expensive aura. I suddenly felt like she and Ethan were a much better match than Ethan and I. Her comment was incredibly rude. I was just about to frown when she practically dumped Ethan onto the sofa. “Anyway, Dr. Davis and I have a surgery tomorrow. Please take good care of him.” “What surgery?” I asked instinctively. “You wouldn’t understand even if I told you,” Maya waved her hand dismissively. “Just ask him later, he knows.” She left quickly. After she left, Ethan sobered up slightly. He had surgery the next day, so he usually never allowed himself to drink. But his alcohol tolerance was terrible; two sips were enough to make him miserable. He frowned slightly, looking at the congealed fat on the cold dishes on the table, as if just remembering why I was sitting there. He explained: “Maya is scrubbing in tomorrow. There were some clinical procedures she wanted me to review with her—and it turned into a department dinner. I forgot to tell you.” I paused. “Can we talk now? I’ll go heat up the food.” Ethan stood up and headed for the bathroom: “Not tonight. It’s too late, and I have surgery tomorrow. Next time.” In the dead silence of the night, I stared at his back and said softly: “Ethan, do you think I’m just going to love you forever?” “This is important,” he said coldly. “I’ll come home early tomorrow.” “Is everything an ‘important’ matter as long as it doesn’t involve me?” I finally asked. He stopped walking, turning back with a slight frown. “Stop throwing a tantrum.” Then he walked into his room and shut the door. I knew he probably didn’t have anything romantic going on with Maya. Ethan despised cheating. If he truly liked Maya, he would have broken up with me immediately to be with her. He just didn’t love me, so out of habit, he placed everything and everyone else ahead of me. The TV was playing softly in the background. It was a scene from a classic romance movie. The female lead asked the old man next to her what the song meant. The old man said, “It means—you’ve fallen for a girl, what do you do? Oh man, you’ve fallen for her, you love her so much, you love her so much you can’t stand it, what do you do?” The female lead asked, “What do you do?” I was wondering the same thing: What do I do? I just loved him so much. But this love had been dragged out by years of waiting and exhaustion, and I felt like I couldn’t hold on anymore. Ethan went to sleep quickly. I sat in the living room for a while, stood up, dumped all the food into the trash, and finished the wine by myself. Alcohol is a wonderful thing. It makes you forget your troubles. But why was my vision getting blurrier and blurrier? I reached up and felt a hot, wet mess all over my face. While I was crying silently, the doorbell suddenly rang. I stumbled to open it, but when I saw the person outside, I froze. My first reaction was a slight fear. The guy at the door was huge, a full head taller than me, about the same height as Ethan. Wearing a black hoodie and jeans, he looked like he could knock me out with one punch. I sobered up instantly. Just as I was about to slam the door, I saw his face and my hand paused. It was a very young boy, probably not even twenty. And most importantly, he had an incredibly handsome face. He looked a bit like Ethan. Except he didn’t have Ethan’s cold, mature demeanor. Instead, he radiated a bright, youthful, puppy-dog energy. “Who are you…?” I asked blankly. The boy flashed me a brilliant smile showing all his teeth, acting like we’d known each other forever as he grabbed my hand. “Hi, sister-in-law! I’m Caleb!” I was completely bewildered. My alcohol-addled brain struggled to remember who this was. The next second, when it clicked, my brain felt like it exploded! “Y-Y-You—” I pointed at him, stuttering in shock: “You’re Caleb?!” 4 Thinking back, the only reason I ever found Ethan again was thanks to the kid standing in front of me. When I was 23, I was bored and found an online “boyfriend” in a video game. We got along great. He was amazing at the game and carried me up the ranks every day. Besides gaming, we had a lot in common and would chat endlessly when we weren’t playing. Having been single my entire life, I fell completely in love with his attentive care. We “online dated” for six solid months. We were so obsessed with each other we practically spent 24 hours a day on voice calls, even falling asleep on the phone together. The only suspicious thing was that he seemed incredibly busy and could only talk to me at night. But he told me he was a doctor with a grueling schedule, so I accepted it. Six months in, I couldn’t take it anymore. I secretly bought a plane ticket to his city and demanded we meet in person. He hesitated for a long time before finally agreeing to come out. We arranged to meet at a coffee shop. Trembling with excitement, I pushed open the doors. The next second, I froze in place. The first person I saw was Ethan—the man who had saved my life years ago, the one I had searched for endlessly but never found. Blood rushed to my head. My ears rang. My online boyfriend… was actually him?! He was a doctor. It all made perfect sense. Then I noticed he was standing next to a kid wearing a middle-school backpack. “I’m sorry,” Ethan said, his voice slightly different from our calls, a bit deeper. “My younger cousin just got out of school, and no one was home to pick him up. Do you mind if he tags along?” I looked at the kid next to him. The boy had a face as flawless as a porcelain doll. His red lips were pressed tightly together as he stared at me unblinkingly. I didn’t care about any of that. I frantically waved my hands. “It’s fine, it’s totally fine. I don’t mind at all.” A massive wave of happiness drowned me. I thought it was fate. But this “Ethan” was different from the one I had imagined. He was much colder, completely different from the passionate guy I talked to online. It was like he was a different person. I thought he was just disappointed in me, which made me feel incredibly insecure. But I still loved him, so I chased him for two full years before we finally got together. When Ethan and I went on dates, his little cousin Caleb was often tagging along. Caleb actually really liked me. He was always clinging to me, calling me “Chloe this” and “Chloe that.” If Ethan was walking ahead of us, Caleb would hold my hand to cross the street and buy me ice cream. For birthdays and holidays, he would use his own allowance to buy me gifts. Once, he bought me a ridiculously expensive Cartier bracelet. At first, I thought it was a fake, but when I saw the receipt, I broke into a cold sweat and immediately returned it to him. He looked so disappointed and heartbroken. But later, I found out the truth. The person I was online dating for six months wasn’t Ethan. It was his cousin, Caleb. Caleb had been too terrified to meet me in person, afraid I’d call him a liar and cut contact, so he begged his older cousin, Ethan, to go in his place. When I found out, I was devastated and struggled to accept it. But by that time, I was already officially dating Ethan. Plus, as Caleb grew older, I naturally distanced myself from him, and we eventually lost touch. Caleb tried to find me a few times, looking absolutely devastated. I never expected him to grow up this fast. I snapped out of my daze and stepped aside. “Why are you here so late? Is everything okay? Come inside.” Caleb didn’t step in. He just took a half-step back, revealing a massive suitcase behind him. “Chloe, I was getting bullied in my dorm and I don’t have anywhere to go. Ethan told me I could crash here for a few days.” He gave me a pitiful, puppy-dog look. “Is that okay?” 5 After Caleb moved in, Ethan and I couldn’t really fight with an outsider in the house, so we just let things slide. It was obvious Ethan had a good relationship with his cousin. At dinner, Ethan even made a rare joke: “You used to cry when you were little, swearing you were going to marry her. Do you remember that?” Caleb looked shy. “That was when I was a kid. I was clueless. Please don’t hold it against me, Chloe.” I waved it off. “It’s all just fate.” He smiled, glanced at me, and didn’t say anything else. … That night, while scrolling through TikTok, I stumbled upon a viral question: “If your partner woke you up at 2 AM and said they wanted to go to the beach to watch the sunrise, what would you do?” The comments were varied, but most said: “I’d call them a psycho, and then I’d get out of bed and go watch the sunrise with them.” My heart suddenly itched, even though I knew asking Ethan to do something like this was absolutely impossible. His schedule was too rigid; he’d never do anything that spontaneous. But I just had to try. I knocked on his door and asked tentatively: “Ethan, I want to go to the beach to watch the sunrise. Can you come with me?” Ethan’s reaction was exactly as I expected. He frowned, his eyes glued to his phone, not even turning his head to look at me. “Stop messing around. I have surgery tomorrow.” Just as I predicted. I closed the door and leaned against the hallway wall, not feeling too disappointed. Probably because I already knew exactly what the outcome would be. Caleb, who had just finished showering, walked by. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and was drying his hair with another. The young man’s muscles were full and defined—not the kind built from rigid, scheduled gym sessions like Ethan’s, but naturally carved from playing basketball on the courts. Seeing me, he looked a little embarrassed. He used the towel to cover his chest and made small talk: “Chloe, am I interrupting you and Ethan? I see there’s another bedroom over there, maybe I should sleep in that one.” “It’s fine,” I paused. “That’s my bedroom.” “Your bedroom?” He looked at me like he couldn’t process the information. “You and Ethan don’t sleep in the same room?” Explaining this would be too awkward, so I just gave a vague “Mm.” “Oh,” he nodded. “Couples should really sleep together, it’s better for the relationship. But my cousin is a total neat-freak, so I guess it makes sense.” He pulled the towel down, revealing his firm chest and a sharp collarbone still glistening with water droplets, smiling brightly. “Well, I’m going to bed. Goodnight, Chloe.” 6 When Ethan told me his mom wanted me to come over for dinner, I thought I had heard him wrong. We had been together for so long, but he had never mentioned taking the next step. He seemed completely disinterested in marriage or starting a family. He rarely talked about his background either. All I knew was that he came from a single-parent household and was raised by his mother, who was a university professor. I thought he was finally acknowledging our age and getting ready for marriage, so I spent weeks carefully picking out gifts. When we arrived at his mom’s house, I enthusiastically handed over the gifts and greeted her: “Hello, Mrs. Davis. I’m Chloe.” His mother was exactly as I had pictured—dressed like a sophisticated, intellectual socialite in a white silk dress, looking very youthful and elegant. But for some reason, I felt her facial features, or maybe just her expression, seemed a bit mean. Sure enough, she just glanced at me, didn’t take the gifts, and said flatly: “Come in.” My heart sank. I instinctively looked at Ethan. Ethan’s expression was indifferent, acting as if none of this had anything to do with him. I felt something was very wrong. Ethan had been acting weird ever since he decided to bring me here. He was expressionless, but I could clearly tell he was in a terrible mood. The dining table was empty, save for a few pieces of fruit on the coffee table. I sat awkwardly on the sofa while his mom went straight into another room without saying a word to me. I was completely confused. Just as I was about to ask Ethan what was going on, the doorbell rang. Ethan opened the door, and outside stood someone I never expected to see. Maya. She was wearing a cream-colored cashmere coat, carrying a few beautifully wrapped gifts, and walked in naturally, as if she owned the place. When she saw me, a perfectly calculated flash of surprise crossed her eyes: “Oh? You’re here too.” She smiled brightly and turned to Ethan’s mother, who had just walked out of the bedroom. “Mrs. Davis, you said you wanted me to try your soup today, so I stopped by a bakery and brought those pastries you love.” The ice on Ethan’s mother’s face melted instantly. She enthusiastically took the boxes, even patting Maya’s hand: “You sweet girl. You coming over is enough, you don’t need to be so formal. Come in, it’s cold outside.” She pulled Maya over to sit right in the center of the sofa, carelessly shoving my gifts—which were packaged far less impressively than Maya’s—off to the side. That subtle movement felt like a slap to my face. Even Ethan hadn’t expected this. He frowned: “Mom, what are you doing?” His mother replied naturally: “When I visited your hospital a while back and you weren’t there, Maya took care of me. Why didn’t you tell me you had such an outstanding junior colleague?” “I invited her today. You two went to the same med school and work together now; it’s a rare connection.” She quickly brought out the food from the kitchen. “You must be hungry. I made slow-roasted chicken soup. You mentioned you loved it last time, right?” Maya leaned in and smiled. “You’re so good to me, Mrs. Davis.” They sat close together, acting as intimate as a mother and daughter. Soon, dinner was served. At the long rectangular table, Ethan’s mother naturally took the head seat, with Ethan sitting on her right. Maya smoothly took the seat right next to him. I paused my steps. Ethan’s mother acted as if she had just noticed me, casually pointing to the seat furthest from the head of the table: “Chloe, you sit over there.” That seat was the furthest away, with only a plate of cold appetizers in front of it. I sat down in silence. The fine bone china in front of me gleamed coldly under the lights. “Maya, try the soup. I simmered it for four hours. You doctors work so hard, you need to nourish your bodies.” Ethan’s mother personally served Maya a bowl, her smile full of maternal affection. “Thank you, Mrs. Davis. Your cooking is amazing. I’ve been craving this.” “If you like it, come over more often. Treat this place like your own home.” Ethan’s mother finally glanced at me, her tone significantly colder. “Chloe, you have some soup too. Serve yourself.” I didn’t move. Halfway through the meal, Ethan’s mother casually brought up work. “Maya, how is that joint research project going? I heard your Chief praising you the other day, saying you learn fast and are very meticulous. A real rising star.” Maya smiled gracefully. “Dr. Davis is an excellent mentor.” “Ethan is flawless when it comes to work and academics.” Ethan’s mother looked proudly at her son, then steered the conversation back. “You young people should learn from each other and grow together. Especially since you’re in the same field and speak the same language. Whether in your careers or your personal lives, you can understand and support each other.” She heavily emphasized the words “personal lives.” I suddenly felt the urge to laugh. No wonder. Things had reached this point. If I still didn’t understand what Ethan’s mother was trying to do, I’d be an absolute idiot. A perfectly timed blush spread across Maya’s cheeks, and she didn’t say a word. Ethan’s mother’s smile deepened, but her focus abruptly shifted to me. “What kind of work does Chloe do again?” I said calmly, “Mrs. Davis, I’m a marketing director at an event planning firm.” “Oh, marketing.” She nodded. “That’s nice. But it probably doesn’t have much overlap with Ethan’s field. When you guys chat and he talks about patient cases or medical journals… can you even understand him?” The air in the room instantly solidified. Ethan frowned slightly. “Mom.” I thought I would love everything associated with him. But in that moment, I realized I absolutely loathed Ethan’s mother. These so-called “intellectual elites” are experts at packaging their disdain with cold indifference, acting as if they are culturally superior. But honestly? I had never eaten a single grain of rice paid for by her family. What right did she have to dictate my life? I finally looked up and met Ethan’s eyes. From the moment we walked through the door until now, he hadn’t spoken a single word to me, nor had he defended me to his mother once. I suddenly found the whole situation hilarious. I spoke up: “Mrs. Davis, I’m sure Ethan doesn’t understand the first thing about marketing either. I’m dating Ethan, not applying for a medical residency. Why do I need to understand his journals or his patient cases?” Ethan’s mother clearly didn’t expect me to fire back so directly. She was stunned for a moment. I set down my chopsticks. The ceramic clinked against the table, making a sharp, distinct sound. “As for what I like about him… in the past, I liked his kindness, his bravery, and his manners.” “But looking at him now… I guess he’s nothing special.” “What did you say?!” Ethan’s mother looked appalled. “Mrs. Davis,” my voice was surprisingly calm. “I thought you invited me here to welcome me. If this kind of thing happens again, I’d appreciate a heads-up. I’m a very busy person too.” “Oh, right,” I smiled. “There won’t be a next time.” I stood up, not looking at anyone else, walked straight to the entryway, and grabbed my purse and coat. Behind me, I could hear Ethan’s mother fuming: “I am furious! Ethan, what kind of woman did you find? She has absolutely no manners…” I didn’t stop walking.

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After my confession to my childhood friend failed, I started an online romance. Every day, I flirted with my online boyfriend by sending faceless body pictures and calling him “hubby.” One night, I was flirting with him again. My online boyfriend replied instantly: [I can’t take it anymore. I want to f–k you right now.] The next second, there was a frantic knocking at my door. As soon as I opened it, my childhood friend stood there. He pinned me against the wall and kissed me. 1 It was 3:00 AM, and I couldn’t sleep… Time to flirt with my online boyfriend. I got out of bed, took off my pajamas, and put on the new belly chain I just bought. In the mirror, my waist curved inward, forming a captivating silhouette. The silver chain hung low on my hips, its metallic gleam dancing against my pale skin. I took a picture in the mirror, cropped out my face, and sent it to my online boyfriend. [Hubby~ Look at this pretty thing I got.] He replied almost instantly. [Trying to seduce me in the middle of the night again?] I licked my lips and typed back with a wicked smile. [I’ll help you touch it] He immediately started a video call. Camera off. I kept my camera off my face too, pointing the lens directly at my waist. … An hour later, the call ended. I lay in bed, savoring the moment. It all started after high school graduation, when I confessed to my childhood best friend, Ethan Hayes. He rejected me, saying he was straight and only saw me as a friend. I was heartbroken, so I downloaded a multiplayer game to distract myself. But my skills were terrible, and my teammates constantly yelled at me over the mic. I wasn’t about to take it, so I yelled right back, conveniently venting all the frustration I had from Ethan’s rejection. After I finished screaming at them, the quiet carry on our team, username “G”, sent me a private message: “I’ll carry you.” After playing together for a while, I slowly became interested in him. Every day in the game, I’d constantly praise him: “Wow, you’re amazing!” Eventually, I started pestering him for his Instagram or Snapchat. After he rejected me for the fourth time, I stopped bothering him and started finding other guys to carry me in games. That made him panic, and he finally gave me his snap. But he must have given me a brand-new alt account, because there was absolutely nothing on it. At first, G was incredibly cold to me. If I didn’t text him, he would never initiate a conversation. And whenever we did talk, it was always me asking a question and him giving a one-word answer. I was about ready to give up on him. Until one night, I was wide awake and bored. A wicked idea flashed through my mind. Out of nowhere, I sent him a faceless picture of my body. He replied almost instantly, sending three question marks. The corners of my mouth curled up. [Do you like it?] The screen showed “Typing…” for a long time. But after waiting forever, he still hadn’t replied. I raised an eyebrow. [If you don’t answer, that means you don’t like it.] [Whatever. Since you don’t like it, I’ll just send it to someone else.] He panicked. [I like it.] [Don’t you dare send it to anyone else.] I felt like I had finally figured out how to handle him. I gave a smug little head bob. 2 Under my guidance, G started initiating conversations with me every single day. He called me “baby” constantly and learned how to talk dirty. Every now and then, he’d send me gym selfies. Even though he didn’t show his face, my intuition told me he was definitely handsome. Not only that, but he was incredibly generous. He frequently sent me money or bought me in-game gifts. Even though my family was well-off, my parents believed kids shouldn’t be spoiled with cash, so they didn’t give me any allowance and made me earn my own money. G was simply the perfect online boyfriend! Then, today happened. The chef was busy in the kitchen. Seeing him prepare a massive feast, I quickly asked my mom: “Are we having guests?” My mom, cracking sunflower seeds, replied casually: “Your dad brought home a box of fresh crabs yesterday, so I invited Ethan and his mom over for dinner.” I froze slightly. Even though Ethan’s house was literally right next door to ours, I had been avoiding him ever since he rejected my confession. Even when mutual friends invited us both out, if Ethan was going, I wouldn’t go. I hadn’t seen Ethan in a whole month. Just then, the doorbell rang. I went to open it. The moment the door opened, Ethan’s handsome, refined face appeared right in front of me. I instinctively took a step back, putting distance between us. Mrs. Hayes looked at me for a moment, then at Ethan. “What is going on with you two?” “Weren’t you guys super close before?” Neither of us said a word. At the dinner table. Ethan sat next to me, but I deliberately scooted over, putting as much space between us as possible. It felt like there was an entire galaxy separating us. Ethan frowned at me, but I chose to ignore him. During the meal, Ethan put a piece of ribs on my plate. Growing up together, he was used to taking care of me. It was exactly because of things like this that I mistakenly thought he liked me. Turns out, I was just delusional. Right in front of him, I picked up the rib and fed it to our dog, Buster. He froze, a flash of anger appearing in his dark eyes. 3 After dinner, I sat on the living room sofa, pulled out my phone, and started texting G. [Just finished dinner, but I’m still so hungry.] G replied instantly. [What else do you want to eat? I’ll order delivery for you.] I smirked and typed back. [I want to eat you.] Beside me, Ethan suddenly spat out the water he had just taken a sip of. I looked at him in confusion. He hurriedly grabbed a napkin to wipe his mouth, shooting me a very strange look. Me: “?” Psycho. What did I even do to him? I ignored him and went back to chatting with G. [Honestly, I kind of want an orange right now.] [But I hate peeling oranges. It gets my hands sticky and it’s so annoying.] In the past, Ethan was always the one who peeled them for me. I brought up meeting in person again. [When are we finally going to meet in person?] [I really want to see you so badly.] [If we meet, will you peel oranges for me?] The chat screen showed “Typing…” again. But he took forever to reply. Just as I expected. Every time I brought up meeting, G would hesitate. I waited a bit longer. He sent me a transfer for $500 first. Then he replied. [Baby, let’s talk about this later, okay?] I didn’t push it. I figured I might be rushing things. After all, we had only known each other for less than a month. Take it slow. Ethan put his phone down, reached out, and grabbed an orange, starting to peel it. His fingers were pale and slender. He looked good even just peeling an orange. I was mesmerized for a second. It wasn’t until he handed the peeled orange to me that I snapped out of it. But I didn’t take it. I rejected it coldly. “I don’t eat oranges peeled by you.” An emotion I couldn’t decipher flashed through Ethan’s eyes. “I already peeled it for you. Just eat it.” My temper flared instantly. Who gave him the right to order me around? I angrily swatted his hand away. The orange fell to the floor. 4 The atmosphere between us dropped to freezing point. I got up and went straight to my room. In my room, I vented to G. [My childhood friend is so annoying.] [He’s a clueless, boundary-less jerk.] [He rejected my confession, but now he’s acting all fake and trying to be nice to me.] After sending that, I got worried G might get jealous, so I added: [Me liking him is totally in the past. I don’t like him at all anymore.] [Since I met you, you’re the only one in my heart.] [Love you~] G didn’t reply. Suddenly, Ethan pushed my door open and walked in. His face was dark: “Chloe, can you please stop acting like this?” Acting like what? Rejecting the orange he peeled? I looked up at him and said seriously, “Ethan, you need to stop acting like this!” “I have a boyfriend now. Please keep your distance from me.” “Otherwise, my boyfriend will get jealous.” Ethan let out a bitter laugh. But he seemed to think of something, swallowed whatever he was about to say, turned around, and left. I locked my door, lay on my bed, and checked to see if G had replied. After a long time, G finally answered. [Mhm.] Just “Mhm”? He’s brushing me off with one word? I frowned and typed back angrily. [Your tone is so cold. Do you not want to talk to me?] [Fine, I’ll go find someone else to talk to.] He immediately panicked. [No.] [Baby, don’t be mad.] [It’s my fault, okay?] He sent me five consecutive $100 transfers. [Are you still mad, baby?] I pouted. [Don’t you think my childhood friend has a screw loose?] [I hate him so much.] He was silent for a moment. [Yeah, he has a screw loose. Don’t be mad at him, baby.] I was satisfied and went back to oversharing with G. [I just laid all my cards on the table with my friend. I told him I have a boyfriend and told him to stay away from me…] 5 It was the weekend. Our friend Matt invited me to a karaoke place to hang out. Since he was a mutual friend of both me and Ethan, I asked: “Is Ethan going? If he’s going, I’m not.” Only after Matt assured me Ethan wasn’t coming did I agree to go. But when I got to the karaoke room, Ethan was sitting right there on the sofa. I glared at Matt. He definitely set this up! Matt played dumb and dragged me inside. If I insisted on leaving now, it would just make me look petty. Having no other choice, I sat as far away from Ethan as possible, pulled out my phone, and started chatting with G. [I miss you. Send me some abs pics, I want to see.] Ethan, who was sitting far away, glanced down at his phone, then looked up and stared at me meaningfully. I felt so confused. What are you looking at?! But I didn’t want to engage with him, so I went back to harassing G. [Are you there?] [Why aren’t you replying?] [Do you not love me anymore?] [Reply to me now.] G replied. [Baby, I’m out at a party with friends right now.] [I’ll take some for you when I get home.] I refused. [No, I want to see them right now.] [You can just go to the bathroom and take a pic!] [Hurry up, I wanna see.] [Hubby~ please.] I pulled out my ultimate weapon. [If you don’t take one for me, I’ll go find someone else to take one for me.] Sure enough, G replied instantly. [Don’t you dare!] [I’m going to take one for you right now.] I smiled in satisfaction. Ethan suddenly stood up. He walked past me and headed toward the bathroom. Not long after, a fresh picture of some very nice abs came through. Sharply defined abs—you could tell he worked out constantly. I admired them for a while, then started teasing him. [I want to touch your abs.] [I want to lick your abs.] [I want to…] Just then, a friend sitting nearby suddenly spoke up. “Hey Ethan, who are you texting?” “You’re blushing so hard.” “Is it a girlfriend?” I looked up and realized Ethan had returned at some point. He frantically locked his phone screen and immediately denied it: “Just a normal friend.” But his bright red earlobes completely exposed him. I had never seen Ethan look like this before. Did he actually get a girlfriend? Not my business anyway. I lowered my head and went back to teasing G. 6 At the karaoke place, someone suggested playing a game. Truth or Dare. My luck was terrible; I kept losing. But I always chose Truth. Eventually, everyone thought Truth was too boring. They demanded I had to choose Dare. When I lost yet again from rolling the dice, I drew a Dare card. My luck was absolute trash. The card said I had to hug someone for thirty seconds. Everyone unanimously assumed I would choose Ethan, since we were the closest. They started cheering and hyping up me and Ethan. Ethan sat in his seat, his face expressionless, watching me quietly while spinning his phone in his right hand. But my eyes swept past Ethan and landed on Matt, who was sitting next to him. “Matt, I choose you.” Ethan stopped spinning his phone. His face visibly darkened. Matt didn’t dare move. I called his name again. “Hurry up!” Matt looked at me, then looked at Ethan. Finally, he chugged an entire beer himself. “I’ll take the penalty drink for Chloe. Skip, skip!” Ethan glanced at me, stood up, and left. I felt like the vibe was dead anyway, so I left early too. When I got home, I continued chatting with G. [I’m home.] [Is your party over yet?] [Do you want to play a game together tonight?] G replied. [Can we play tomorrow?] I sensed that G was in a bad mood and asked, [What’s wrong?] [Who made you mad?] G was silent for a moment. [I’m fine.] 7 On my birthday, G was the very first person to wish me a happy birthday. In the past, that person was always Ethan. Thinking about that made my chest feel a little tight, but the feeling passed quickly. I invited a lot of friends, but I specifically didn’t invite Ethan. Halfway through my birthday party, I took out my phone to message G. [I really wish you could be here for my birthday party.] [The cake you ordered for me is so delicious.] [But I don’t dare eat too much, I’m afraid of gaining weight.] G replied instantly. [Baby, you’re not fat. Eat as much as you want.] The doorbell rang. I happily went to open the door, only to see Ethan standing there. My smile vanished instantly. “I didn’t invite you.” Ethan completely ignored what I said and handed me a gift. “Your birthday present.” I didn’t take it. Ethan didn’t care; he just walked right in holding the gift. By the time I walked over to him, he was already sitting on the sofa, looking up at me. “Did you forget to invite me?” “Don’t be so careless next time.” Me: “?” I couldn’t be bothered to argue with him. I turned and walked away. Finding a quiet corner, I started texting G again. [My childhood friend just showed up.] [He’s so annoying. Just seeing him ruined my mood.] G replied. [Baby, why do you hate him so much?] [He just wanted to come celebrate your birthday.] I replied immediately. [But I don’t want to see him.] Ethan’s back looked lonely. He was shrouded in shadow, looking incredibly depressed. After the party ended and all my friends had left, Ethan was still there. He sat on the sofa, his eyes following me as I moved around. I looked at him. “Are you still not leaving?” He looked at me. “You used to love the gifts I gave you. Aren’t you even going to open it?” I said impatiently, “When are you leaving?” “Chloe, I…” He hesitated, looking at me with such a lonely expression. I frowned. “If you’re not going to leave, fine. I don’t care. I’m going upstairs to chat with my boyfriend.” Staring at my back as I walked upstairs, Ethan couldn’t look away for a long time. It wasn’t until I completely disappeared from his sight that a wave of deep regret washed over him. 8 Mrs. Hayes invited my family to vacation at their beach house. My mom asked if I wanted to go. Even though I really wanted to go, I didn’t want to see Ethan. I lied and said I had other plans and declined. Hearing my refusal, Mrs. Hayes said regretfully, “Our Ethan can’t make it this year either because he has things to do. I really miss the times our families used to spend summer vacations together. With neither of you kids coming, it won’t be lively at all.” When I heard Ethan wasn’t going, I quickly said, “Mrs. Hayes, I’ll go!” Sun, sand, and the ocean—here I come! Before leaving, I sent G a message. [Hehe, I’m going to the beach.] [The new swimsuit I bought is super cute~] [I’ll take pictures for you later.] At the beach. I changed into my swimsuit and lay on a beach chair, trying to apply sunscreen to myself. But it’s impossible to reach your own back. While I was struggling to apply it, a hand took the sunscreen from me and started rubbing it on my back. I turned around in surprise and saw it was Ethan. I was shocked: “Why are you here?” “Didn’t you say you had things to do?” Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Someone was constantly tempting me to come. So I pushed my other plans.” I wasn’t listening to him. Because my attention was drawn to something else. Ethan was applying the sunscreen very meticulously. Every time his hand glided over my skin, a tingling sensation swept through my entire body. When his hand reached my waist, I distinctly felt him apply more pressure. That strange sensation made my mind wander. I snapped back to reality, immediately pushed Ethan away, and snatched the sunscreen back. “I don’t need your help!” He looked at me, a very faint smile playing on his lips. That afternoon, I lay on my beach chair, and Ethan lay on the chair right next to mine. Since this was technically his family’s property, I couldn’t exactly kick him out. But I didn’t talk to him. I just kept my head down, chatting with G. First, I sent G a few pictures of the beach. [It’s pretty here, right?] G replied instantly. [Pretty.] The corners of my mouth curled up. [Wait for me.] I glanced back at Ethan. He was also looking down at his phone. Seeing me look at him, he looked up and smiled. I rolled my eyes, quietly walked further away, took out my phone, and started taking selfies. I originally wanted to include my face, but to keep a little mystery for the day we finally met in person, I only took pictures of my lips. I gently bit my full, rosy lower lip. After sending the photo to G, I asked him: [Is the ocean prettier, or am I prettier?] [You.] I walked back to my beach chair, satisfied. I was a little thirsty, so I grabbed a bottle of water next to me and tilted my head back, drinking it in big gulps. I didn’t notice Ethan next to me. His gaze moved down, lingering on my lips, and he swallowed hard. 9 I fell asleep on the beach chair. I’ve always been a deep sleeper. I slept all the way until the sun went down. When I woke up, my lips felt a little swollen and sore. I reached up and touched them. They felt a bit swollen. Just then, Ethan stood up. “Let’s go. Time to go back and eat.” I didn’t think much of it and got up to head back to the villa. When we walked into the living room, Mrs. Hayes came over. “Chloe, why are your lips swollen?” As Mrs. Hayes spoke, she narrowed her eyes and glanced at Ethan standing behind me. Ethan: “I’m going upstairs to change.” I touched my lips again and said, “I might just be having an allergic reaction. I had spicy hotpot last night.” After dinner, Mrs. Hayes pulled me aside to chat for a bit. Then I went upstairs to rest. My room was right next to Ethan’s. In my room, I lay on the bed for a while, then went to the bathroom to take a shower. I suddenly remembered I still hadn’t sent G a picture of me in my swimsuit. I pulled a swimsuit out of my suitcase. It was one I’d never actually wear outside; I bought it specifically to show G. In the bathroom, after I took the picture in the mirror, I sent it straight to G. But before G could reply, there was a sudden knock on my door. I panicked, quickly took off the swimsuit, threw on some pajamas, and went to open the door. When I opened it, Ethan was standing there. He seemed to be in a hurry. “The bathroom in my room is broken. I need to use yours.” I stepped aside to let him in. He went straight to the bathroom. I sat on the bed and waited. He was in there for half an hour. I grew impatient and yelled toward the bathroom, “Did you fall into the toilet?!” Ethan’s voice was hoarse, and it sounded like he was desperately trying to suppress something. “I need to wait a little longer.” Another half hour passed. It suddenly hit me—my swimsuit was still hanging in the bathroom! If he saw it… My face instantly turned bright red. I knocked on the door. “Ethan! Are you done yet?!” Ethan opened the door. His cheeks were a little flushed. He gave me a look and quickly walked away. I rushed inside. The swimsuit I had hung up was gone! I looked everywhere but couldn’t find it. A thought crossed my mind. I knocked on Ethan’s door. Afraid Mrs. Hayes or my mom would hear, I lowered my voice. “Ethan! Did you steal my swimsuit?!”

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In the spring of 2016, my little sister went missing during a school field trip, falling into an abandoned mine shaft. It took three days to find her. But here was the bizarre part: The canteen she carried was completely full of water, yet her autopsy report stated she died of severe dehydration. She had literally died of thirst. Because of her tragic and gruesome death, my parents couldn’t handle the blow. One died; the other went insane. A once-happy family was utterly destroyed. Ten years later, I became a PhD candidate in Criminal Psychology. When I returned to that abandoned mine shaft and repeatedly replayed the events of that day… I uncovered a blood-curdling truth that completely shattered everything I thought I knew. 1 April 12, 2016. A Saturday. It was my sister’s twelfth birthday. In our hometown, a child’s twelfth birthday is a major milestone. It means the child has firmly planted their feet in the world and officially entered their teenage years. But my sister met her end on the exact day she was supposed to become a teenager. I was attending college in the city back then, and I specifically took the bus home to celebrate her birthday. Coincidentally, my sister, who was in the sixth grade, had a school-organized spring field trip to Blackwood Mountain that very day. My mom initially didn’t want her to go, but my sister had been looking forward to visiting Blackwood Mountain for ages. So, the birthday dinner was pushed back to the evening. My mom prepared a windbreaker, a sun hat, a canteen of water, and some snacks for her, reminding her to come home early that afternoon. “You guys aren’t allowed to secretly eat the birthday cake! Wait for me to come back before you put the candles in!” My sister playfully ordered my mom and me, still worried we’d start without her. “Hey, Chloe, I heard there’s a really beautiful type of Ghost Orchid on Blackwood Mountain. How about I bring a few branches back to make bookmarks for you?” She sneaked a cautious glance at me, trying to butter me up. The night before, while playing a computer game, she had accidentally deleted the Organic Chemistry term paper I had worked so hard to write. Organic Chemistry was my absolute most hated and headache-inducing subject. I was currently forcing myself to rewrite the paper from scratch, so I angrily snapped back, “You said it yourself! If you don’t pick them for me, don’t even bother coming back home to see me!” In reality, I didn’t actually care about those Ghost Orchid bookmarks. I was just angry at the time and wanted to give her a hard time. Back then, none of us knew that while the Ghost Orchids of Blackwood Mountain were famously beautiful… They could only be admired from afar. 2 “She fell off the cliff because she was trying to pick those Ghost Orchids for me. I didn’t know until she died that those flowers only bloom on the steepest, most treacherous cliffs.” “For many years after that, I always wondered… if I hadn’t said that awful line, ‘If you don’t pick them, don’t come back,’ would my sister still be alive?” Ten years later, I sat across from my PhD advisor, Professor Arthur Vance, and recounted the story. Even after all these years, I still broke down in tears. “When did they find your sister?” Professor Vance pulled out a tissue and handed it to me. “Three days later.” “I remember it so clearly. It was an early morning, and the sun was shining on her shriveled, sunken face. It felt so warm.” “My mother passed out on the spot. My father had a massive heart attack.” “I was the only one left to sit there and keep her company.” The coffee maker off to the side bubbled quietly, the sound exceptionally loud in the dead silence of the office. “Honestly, finding a body after someone goes missing in the mountains is rare. It was a tragic stroke of luck that you even found her,” Professor Vance said as he stood up, poured a cup of coffee, and gently pushed the warm bone-china mug toward me. “Hundreds of people searched the mountain back then. The police, my parents, friends, relatives, my father’s former students—graduated and current—and even a lot of local volunteers rushed over to help.” “The police used her last known location as a radius. They checked surveillance cameras, canvassed the area, and interviewed every rural neighborhood within a ten-mile radius.” The moment they found the body, my mother lunged at me, tearing at my clothes, screaming in absolute despair: “You knew it was her birthday, and you still cursed her! How could you be so vicious?!” My father, who had been a high school teacher for half his life, was overcome with grief and rage. He rushed over and slapped me across the face three times, pointing a trembling finger at me while cursing: “I’ve spent my life educating people, how did I raise such a cold-blooded, selfish animal?! Why wasn’t it you who died?!” He announced right then and there that he no longer had a daughter. Facing the disgusted and judgmental stares of everyone around me, I didn’t hide, and I didn’t defend myself. I numbly endured all the beating and spitting. Because even I felt that I was the one who forced my own sister to her death. I deserved it. I deserved to die. I tried hard to swallow the burning lump in my throat and continued: “At first, everyone thought my sister’s death was an accident, until the autopsy report came out.” “Her cause of death was utterly baffling. She didn’t die of hypothermia. She wasn’t killed by wild animals or snakebites. And she definitely didn’t die from the fall.” Professor Vance, who was stirring his coffee, stopped. “Then how did she die?” “She died of thirst.” “Dying of dehydration after going missing in the wilderness is pretty common, isn’t it?” Professor Vance tapped his mug. “But… what if her canteen was completely full of water?” I stared at him, asking word by word. “Is it possible someone took her water before the accident, and then, afraid of being held responsible, quietly put it back after she died?” Professor Vance asked, looking at me. I shook my head. “The search party that found my sister’s body consisted of exactly three people: my father, one of his former students, and a search-and-rescue volunteer. Moreover, the crime scene investigators confirmed there were only three sets of footprints around her. There was no fourth person.” “What about her classmates? Teachers? How were her interpersonal relationships at school?” I tried hard to recall the situation back then. “My sister had excellent grades, a very easygoing personality, and the police interviews found no evidence of grudges, bullying, or being bullied.” “So it goes without saying there was nothing wrong with the water in the canteen, right?” I nodded. Professor Vance’s expression darkened. 3 “Did they do a full autopsy?” “Yes. I was a college sophomore at the time and had already taken a forensic anatomy course. I requested to observe the entire autopsy process. Her body exhibited classic pathological signs of fatal dehydration.” Professor Vance patted my shoulder. “That must have been incredibly hard on you.” No one knows what it feels like to watch your own flesh and blood being dissected right in front of you. Every cut felt like it was slicing into my own skin. The extreme agony numbs you to the point where you can’t even shed a single tear. “So… that’s why you switched from a forensics major to clinical medicine…” Professor Vance flipped through my resume, looking at me with deep sympathy. “Yes. I developed a severe psychological block. I could never dissect a corpse again.” “Later on, I went into clinical medicine. I researched all of the human body’s stress responses and dehydration mechanisms. Ultimately, I crossed disciplines and applied for your PhD program.” “So, you applied for my Criminal Psychology PhD program just to have me help you reconstruct this decade-old cold case?” Professor Vance looked at me, a bit incredulous. There’s a running joke in academic circles: Getting into Dr. Vance’s PhD program is harder than scaling Mount Everest. Perhaps this was the first time he had ever heard such a motive for pursuing a doctorate. “Yes. Becoming your student was so I could meet you, but more importantly, so I would earn the right to speak with you on an equal footing.” “You are a renowned criminal investigator and a leading authority in criminal psychology in this country. You’ve solved countless cold cases.” “I’m begging you to guide me in uncovering the truth. I need to know if my sister’s death was an accident or murder.” “I need to know why, when she had water, she died of thirst!” “If her death was purely a tragic accident, then I’ll let her rest in peace. But if she was murdered, I will exhaust my entire life seeking justice for her!” Even though I tried my hardest to control myself, I practically screamed those last few sentences. After my sister died, my mother fell into a deep depression and eventually passed away. My father went insane and was institutionalized. A once-happy family was ruined. In every dream I had over the past ten years, I desperately wanted to hug my sister. I wanted to ask her: Why didn’t you drink the water? I wanted to tell her that her big sister didn’t blame her for losing the Organic Chemistry paper. And that I didn’t want the Ghost Orchid bookmark at all. I just wanted her to come home safely. If she came back, this family would come back. But that was forever impossible. 4 Professor Vance stayed silent for a moment before saying, “Tell me the specific autopsy results.” “The body was highly desiccated. The skin was dry, wrinkled, and had a leathery appearance. Her eyes were slightly open, and the eyeballs were sunken due to fluid loss. Because the blood was highly concentrated, livor mortis was unusually dark and abnormally distributed. The blood inside her heart and major vessels was dark red and highly viscous. Body cavity fluids were significantly reduced.” After countless sleepless nights of research and review, my sister’s autopsy report was permanently etched into my mind. Even the visual memory of the autopsy itself flashed before my eyes again. Professor Vance stopped stirring his coffee. “In April, the nighttime temperature at the bottom of an abandoned mine shaft on Blackwood Mountain usually drops to around 50 degrees. A twelve-year-old child trapped there for three full days would generally die of hypothermia.” I took a deep breath and said, “That is the most bizarre and anomalous part of the autopsy.” “When a person experiences severe hypothermia, the gastrointestinal mucosa undergoes a stress response, producing massive dark brown hemorrhagic spots. In forensics, we call these ‘Vishnevsky spots’. But my sister’s autopsy report showed her gastric mucosa was perfectly intact. There were absolutely no signs of cold exposure.” Professor Vance’s eyes instantly sharpened. “No hypothermia… but instead, she exhibited characteristics of hyperthermia?” I nodded, my voice trembling uncontrollably. “Yes. The medical examiner’s final conclusion was that her direct cause of death was multiple organ failure induced by extreme dehydration—in other words, dying of thirst.” “What’s even more horrifying is that her organs showed pathological signs of extreme ‘dehydration fever’.” “When a person is severely dehydrated, their body can’t produce a single drop of sweat. The cooling system completely shuts down. It was as if she was locked inside an invisible oven. She was literally ‘dry-roasted’ to death by her own core body temperature!” “As for why she didn’t freeze to death, I went to the scene and spent a night there years ago. I found out that the bottom of that pit wasn’t cold at all.” I unzipped my backpack and spread a yellowed geological survey map on the desk. “I looked up the geological data for Blackwood Mountain. Even though the mine shaft is only a couple hundred feet deep, its bottom connects to an active geothermal fault line.” “That geothermal fault keeps the bottom of the pit at a constant temperature of around 77 degrees Fahrenheit year-round. With no wind, it’s essentially a natural incubator.” Professor Vance’s gaze hardened. He stared at his black coffee, tapping his knuckles lightly on the desk, deep in thought. The office was so quiet that only the ticking of the clock could be heard. After a long while, he asked another question: “What were the results of the toxicology and exclusionary diagnostics?” “Blood and vitreous humor tests showed extreme elevations in blood sodium and blood oxygen. She must have gone completely blind at least a day before she died.” “There were no signs of food or mineral poisoning. Her body only had minor abrasions, ruling out blunt force trauma or assault.” I rattled off the facts in one breath. “Any signs of sexual assault?” I shook my head. “None. But… there is one thing that has always baffled me.” Professor Vance gestured for me to continue. “The autopsy and crime scene evidence indicated that my sister likely took her last breath sometime between the afternoon and night of the third day she was missing. The body was discovered exactly on the morning of the fourth day. It’s too coincidental. It feels like… like…” “Like someone had been standing by, watching her coldly the entire time, intentionally waiting until she was completely dead before letting you guys find her?” Professor Vance stared at me without blinking. “Yes, it was found entirely too ‘conveniently’.” I nodded slowly. “During those three days, she endured the ultimate agony of dehydration fever. For a healthy adult, the absolute limit of survival without water is three days. Let alone a twelve-year-old child. The killer timed it perfectly to ensure she was dead.” “How was this case classified back then?” “Because my sister’s cause of death couldn’t be logically explained, it was still classified as an accidental death. But Detective Miller, the lead investigator, disagreed. He said there were too many suspicious elements, and calling it an ‘accident’ was incredibly irresponsible. Later on, someone even suggested my sister committed suicide by intentionally refusing to eat or drink. But she clearly had food in her mouth…” “Are you saying when she was found, she had food in her mouth?” Professor Vance interrupted me, unable to hold back. “Yes.” I nodded, my eyes burning with unshed tears. “Her mouth was completely stuffed. It was the snacks my mom had packed for her the morning she disappeared.” Professor Vance’s expression grew even more solemn. “What about her stomach?” I shook my head. “Nothing. It was empty.” The hand Professor Vance was using to hold his coffee mug suddenly tightened. “Were there signs of climbing or scrambling in the pit? Was there dirt on her clothes and shoes?” “Yes. All ten of her fingers were scraped raw. The nails on her left middle finger and right index finger were completely torn off…” My eyes burned as I fought down the dull ache in my chest. “…She was still clutching a few dried Ghost Orchids in her hand… the ones meant for me…” Professor Vance stared at me and said, word by word: “No hypothermia. Anomalous dehydration fever. A container full of water, and a mouth stuffed full of food she couldn’t swallow. Chloe, I can confirm with absolute certainty that your sister’s death was a homicide.” 5 My heart violently contracted, and the coffee mug in my hand nearly slipped. “Wh… why?” Even though I expected the result, my voice still trembled uncontrollably. Who would do this to a child who had just turned twelve? What kind of deep-seated hatred would drive someone to torture a little girl so sadistically? “There was dirt under her fingernails. There were signs of scrambling. Her nails were torn off. This proves she exhausted every ounce of her strength trying to survive.” “And a person fighting that hard to survive does not commit suicide.” “Have you ever considered that it wasn’t that she didn’t want to drink the water, but that she couldn’t drink it?” My scalp went numb. “What do you mean?” My first instinct was that this was absurd. What could possibly threaten a desperate child so much that she would leave a full cup of water untouched and literally allow herself to die of thirst? “There was some external force that made her too terrified to drink, or completely unable to drink.” Professor Vance’s eyes blazed. “If that’s the case, then this external force understood your sister incredibly well.” “Therefore, it must be someone she knew. Perhaps someone she was very familiar with.” My mind went completely blank, as if I had been struck by lightning. My entire body froze. For ten years, I had visited that abandoned mine shaft countless times, obsessively turning over every blade of grass and bush at the crime scene. Time and time again, I sat at the bottom of the pit, trying to reconstruct the events of that day. Hoping to find even the slightest clue. But in the end, I found nothing. I had considered countless possibilities. Did the fall give her brain damage? Did she feel like her family didn’t love her enough, so she stubbornly refused to drink out of spite? … But I had never, ever considered that she couldn’t drink the water. 6 Right at that moment, my phone rang. It was Mrs. Higgins, a volunteer from the neighborhood stray cat rescue. She told me that the stray cat I had been rescuing had something terrible happen to it. “Chloe, honey, your cat is dead. I’m so sorry. She was so wild, she ran off outside for two days. When she came back, I poured her a bowl completely full of cat food.” “I don’t know what happened to her, it’s like she caught some weird disease. She stuffed a mouthful of kibble into her mouth, but she just wouldn’t swallow it. She’d spit it out, put it back in, and literally forced herself to starve to death…” I started rescuing stray cats three years after my sister died. I named this particular orange cat “Lily,” using my sister’s name. My head buzzed loudly, and I almost dropped my phone. “A mouth full of food, unable to swallow, guarding a bowl of food while starving to death…” How terrifyingly similar was this to my sister guarding her water bottle, dying of thirst with unswallowed snacks in her mouth?! Professor Vance noticed my pale face. “What happened?” I took a deep breath and repeated what Mrs. Higgins told me. “It looks like that person has been around this whole time.” Professor Vance’s gaze darkened. He grabbed his car keys from the desk. “Let’s go. We need to examine that cat’s body.” Half an hour later, we were standing on a balcony looking at the cat’s corpse. The orange cat’s body was already completely stiff, its mouth half-open. Sure enough, its oral cavity was stuffed with soggy, viscous cat kibble. Its chin was covered in dried saliva. Its cloudy eyes stared into the void, full of helplessness and unwillingness. What kind of torture did it endure before it died? That extreme desire for food, only to face the agonizing inability to swallow it at the very last second—it instantly pulled me back to that mine shaft from ten years ago. Mrs. Higgins nervously rubbed her hands together, repeatedly explaining how bizarrely the cat had died. “This kind of death is really rare, you know? I haven’t seen it in at least ten years. Back then, there were a few cats and dogs that died looking almost exactly like how Lily looks right now…” Hearing Mrs. Higgins say this, a violent shiver ran through my body. Ten years ago? That was exactly when my sister’s accident happened. I violently grabbed Mrs. Higgins’s wrist, my voice trembling as I demanded: “Mrs. Higgins, what did you just say? Ten years ago? Where did you find those dead stray cats and dogs ten years ago?!” “Who usually went to feed them? Did you see any suspicious people around? Please, think carefully, this is incredibly important to me!” Mrs. Higgins was startled, then shook her head blankly. “It’s been ten years, honey. How could I possibly remember clearly? And nobody really paid much attention to the stray animals out there anyway.” “Chloe.” Professor Vance pulled me back from the brink of a breakdown. “Don’t rush this. Let’s dissect the cat’s body and confirm things first. You can’t just look at the surface.” I nodded. 7 We brought Lily’s body back to the anatomy lab. The bright fluorescent lights flickered on, casting a harsh, pale glare on the emaciated orange cat. “Remember, everything that is done leaves a trace. The more the perpetrator does, the more flaws they expose,” Professor Vance said. I put on my sterile scrubs and pulled on rubber gloves. Ten years. The moment I held a scalpel again, my hands still trembled uncontrollably. But there were some things I had to face. I had to forge armor out of my courage. Only then could I go onto the battlefield and fight. Chloe, you can do this. Believe in yourself. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and tried with all my might to steady my nerves. The scalpel started at the cat’s oral cavity, making a precise, incremental incision. I carefully separated the muscle tissue, exposing the esophagus and trachea. Professor Vance stood to the side, his brows tightly furrowed. I cut down the throat straight to the stomach. In that instant, my pupils contracted sharply, and my breathing stopped. “What is it?” Professor Vance keenly noticed my reaction. “The entire esophagus…” My hand holding the scalpel froze in mid-air. My trembling gaze swept over every inch of the exposed tissue, and the hair on my arms stood on end. “There is no mechanical obstruction. No signs of toxic corrosion. No pathology in the smooth muscle.” “It is exactly the same as my sister.” “Ten years ago, the killer practiced on stray cats and dogs. Only after perfecting their method did they move on to killing a human.” Professor Vance’s eyes were dark. “Chloe, you are a PhD student in criminal psychology. Show me your professional discipline. Step back and look at this as an objective observer.” “Go back and take a hard look at the people around you. Don’t let a single one slip by.” “If you only focus your eyes on your sister’s death, you’ll miss too much. Investigate your mother’s suicide and your father’s insanity as well.” “Professor Vance, do you mean… all of this was man-made?” I gripped the edge of the dissection table so hard my knuckles turned white, breaking out in full-body goosebumps. For ten years, I believed it was my one angry sentence that destroyed my entire family. But now, an icy chill, like a venomous snake silently locking onto its prey, crawled frantically up my spine. “If my guess is right, that person has been by your side this entire time.” Professor Vance’s expression was exceptionally grave. “I need you to contact the detective who worked your case immediately and check two things.” “First, your family’s social network. Relatives, friends, neighbors, even your parents’ colleagues. Make a list.” “Second, find out who was near your sister’s class on the day of the incident, or anyone who frequently interacted with her class. You will find something.” Professor Vance paused, then added, “If you identify a suspect, do not alert them. Come to me. Remember that.” Perhaps fearing I wouldn’t take it seriously enough, he added one final instruction before leaving the room: “You’ve waited ten years. Don’t rush it now.” 8 March 5, 2026. I found Detective Miller, the officer who oversaw my sister’s case back then, and relayed Professor Vance’s deductions to him. He slammed his hand on his thigh. “Back then, we focused our investigation entirely on a twenty-mile radius around the crime scene. The one thing we never considered was an acquaintance.” “If we follow the two threads Professor Vance suggested, they form a net. Whoever gets caught in that net is our suspect.” “Don’t worry, Chloe. I will drag this person out of the shadows for you!” Feeling like a breakthrough was imminent, Detective Miller instantly looked ten years younger, walking with a renewed spring in his step. On March 6, my sister’s case was officially reclassified as a criminal homicide investigation. Professor Vance joined the task force as a consulting criminal investigator. That same day, I asked Detective Miller to pull the neighborhood surveillance footage from the past week. I fed photos of the stray cat, Lily, into an AI program to trace its movement patterns. I used the fastest method to identify anyone it interacted with over the last few days. But there was nothing unusual. It wasn’t until the fourth day that an old security camera near a local bodega captured a blurry but familiar figure. On that day, I had visited the abandoned mine shaft on Blackwood Mountain and re-examined the decade-old crime scene. When I looked at those remaining, heavily blurred footprints at the scene, a specific possibility suddenly struck me. An icy chill shot up from the soles of my feet, traveled up my calves, and pierced straight into my skull, making my scalp tingle. What if one of the three people who initially found my sister’s body was the killer? Then, after arriving at the scene, their earlier footprints would simply blend in. Or they could have been “accidentally” blurred out by them. Professor Vance had hypothesized that the killer was someone familiar to my sister. But just how familiar? I had to go confirm it myself. Before I went, I met with Professor Vance again. After listening to my deduction regarding the footprints at the scene and the discovery in the surveillance footage, he only said one thing: “Chloe, remember, you are a criminal psychology scholar. You cannot stare into the abyss for too long. When the abyss stares back at you, do not let it consume you.” 9 March 11, 7:25 AM. On the way to the State Psychiatric Facility to see my father. I received a call from Detective Miller. The background check on the people related to Blackwood Mountain on the day of the incident was complete. “Chloe, because this case is highly sensitive, and for your personal safety, my superiors and Professor Vance agreed to keep you updated on the investigation so you aren’t caught off guard and give the killer an opening. The investigation results and the suspect’s files have been sent to your email…” After reading the files in my inbox, I laughed. I laughed until my lungs burned. Combining the surveillance screening from the past few days, yesterday’s re-examination of the crime scene, and all the little details of my family’s life over the years… I touched a horrifying truth that completely flipped everything I thought I knew upside down. 10 At exactly 8:00 AM, I walked into the facility I had visited countless times over the past five years. After my mother passed away, my father’s mental state slowly deteriorated. Every time he saw me, he would lunge forward, looking like he wanted to strangle me. I thought he resented me, hated me, and refused to see me. So I had to hire people to take care of him. Later on, as he became increasingly incoherent, I had no choice but to admit him to the psychiatric facility. But every time he saw me, his emotional state would become wildly erratic. To avoid triggering him, for the last five years, I would only visit once every two months, just to look at him from a distance. That was it. This was also the first time since he got “sick” that I went in to deeply and carefully understand his medical condition. No one knows that my father, a high school teacher, always wanted to be a psychiatrist. Because of this, he didn’t just spend years studying the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5); he practically self-taught himself clinical psychiatry, neurobiology, and behavioral psychology. Now that he was a long-term resident at a psychiatric hospital, I guess you could say he achieved his dream. His attending physician, Dr. Caleb Shaw, was the only one of my father’s former students who went into clinical psychiatry and psychology. Before my sister’s accident, the two of them were like mentor and friend, and he was a frequent guest at our house. He was also the only person who didn’t blame me after my sister’s accident, and the only one who comforted me.

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A year ago, my roommate ended her relationship. I used to watch how that guy treated her, soaking up his every act of devotion with a quiet, burning envy. Eventually, we found our way to each other. He was gentle, orchestrating my life with a seamless precision, yet there was always this invisible wall of cold detachment between us. Half a year of this lukewarm existence dragged on before something in him finally shifted. I was overjoyed, foolishly believing my absolute sincerity had finally melted the ice around his heart. Until the holidays, when he unexpectedly ran into her. Under the explosive light of winter fireworks, the truth hit me hard. He had never really let her go. 1 The reason I got together with Sebastian was agonizingly simple. I loved the way he cared for my roommate. It was a quiet, unassuming warmth. Back in our dorm days, I had a front-row seat to their long-term romance, standing on the sidelines like a voyeur, envying her and everything she possessed. Even her name. Hunter. It didn’t sound like a girl’s name, but it held her father’s greatest wish for her. To be the hunter, clear in her direction, never having to bend her will or alter her course for anyone else. And my name was Grace. The phrase my father drilled into my head the most was to be graceful, sweet, and compliant. What I mastered was the art of keeping people happy. So when I saw Hunter throwing a fit outside our dorm because Sebastian was running late, my chest tightened. Sebastian just brushed her forehead affectionately and pulled a pastry box out of his bag like a magician. It was a viral croissant from a Soho bakery that required a five-hour wait in line. Hunter took exactly one bite and handed it back to him without missing a beat. “I hate hazelnut. Remember what I like and don’t like.” Sebastian just smiled and said he would. I was stunned, and then a wave of bitter sourness washed over me. Because if it had been me, I would have pretended to love it. In my world, pleasing someone meant being loved, or at least being loved a little more. But Hunter didn’t need to play that game. She just needed to exist as herself, and someone would love her unconditionally. Sebastian and Hunter broke up right around graduation. It rained heavily that day, and he stood outside our building in the downpour for a very long time. A year later, I ran into him at a dinner party. He was genuinely surprised to hear I had also graduated from Columbia. It made sense. Back then, his eyes were entirely filled with Hunter. He probably never even registered my existence. I was just that small, that invisible. So when he actively started pursuing me later, I hesitated. I knew there was a space in his heart that could never be overwritten. But in the end, I nodded. I just wanted to know what it felt like to be treated that way. To feel the weight of being firmly chosen, to be indulged, to have my preferences memorized, to be treated like the center of someone’s universe. All those things I had spied on from the dorm window. I wanted a taste. Once we got together, Sebastian treated me well. Impeccably well. Whenever my cramps flared up, a hot water bottle and ginger tea were already waiting. If I worked late, he was parked downstairs, never complaining. Flowers on holidays, thoughtful gifts on birthdays. He covered every base. But once I actually had him, something felt incredibly off. He rarely showed any raw emotion. He spent most of his time wrapped in silence, lost in thoughts he refused to share with me. We treated each other with the polite courtesy of esteemed guests rather than lovers. The old Sebastian was so vibrant. He used to get nervous when Hunter was mad. He would laugh and coax her when she said the wrong thing. He would get visibly upset if she stayed out too late. I used to hear him through the dorm walls, eagerly telling Hunter what he ate for lunch and what funny thing he saw on the street. With me, he was perpetually mild, proper, and lukewarm. A year into our relationship, he had never once volunteered a random detail about his day. It felt like he was fulfilling the duties of a boyfriend rather than actually loving a person. Sometimes, deep in the night, I would find him sitting out on the balcony. The glowing ember of his cigarette illuminated his face in the dark, his expression unreadable. He was the youngest Managing Director in his region, a man who strategized multimillion-dollar deals without breaking a sweat. What could possibly make him look so profoundly lost? Only Hunter, I figured. When the ache got too heavy, I would ask myself what I even liked about him. The answer terrified me. Maybe I didn’t actually like him at all. Maybe I just wanted a lover who wouldn’t push me away. Someone who would let me be myself and still love me fiercely, just the way he had loved Hunter. But Sebastian never gave me that chance. One day, I tested the waters. “What kind of girls do you actually like?” He looked at me and said he liked girls like me. Quiet. Well-behaved. He hated high-maintenance girls. He practically listed every trait that was the exact opposite of Hunter. A tiny fracture split open in my chest right then. Because I had seen what he looked like when he was truly in love. It wasn’t this. It wasn’t built on a foundation of convenience and peace. But I swallowed the lie anyway. I wanted to make a bet with myself. I boxed up all my messy emotions and played the role of the perfect, understanding girlfriend to the absolute extreme. I wanted to know if being considerate enough, if being the anti-Hunter, could buy the devotion I was starving for. And if it did, would I even be happy? We drifted along in this painless, numb state for another six months. One weekend, I made plans with a friend to catch a movie. We picked a theater exactly halfway between us so it was fair. Right before I left the house, my phone buzzed. “Grace, there’s a new IMAX theater doing a promo nearby. The tickets are super cheap!” I opened the link. It was a five-minute walk from her apartment, but over an hour’s drive for me. Her text sounded so excited, though. I didn’t want to ruin the mood. When I finally arrived, I texted asking where she was. “Still on the road. Traffic is a nightmare.” I stood there for fifteen minutes. My phone buzzed again. “The weather app says it’s going to pour. Should we just skip it?” I stared at the glowing letters. I slowly backspaced my drafted reply of “I’m already here.” “Yeah, let’s just do it another time. It’s a pretty far drive for me anyway.” She replied instantly. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! Drinks are on me next time!” I texted back a smiley face. Standing out on the pavement in front of the theater, I suddenly felt the urge to laugh at myself. I had done it again. I swallowed the words someone else was too coward to say, handed them a perfect out, and absorbed all the inconvenience they refused to carry. It was as natural as breathing. It was a pathetic instinct. I texted Sebastian. “Where are you?” He replied quickly. “Meeting with a supplier. How’s the movie?” I locked my screen. The thing adults are best at is keeping their mouths shut at the worst possible times. I didn’t go home. I wandered the streets aimlessly until I walked past an exotic pet shop. In the glass display sat a lizard. It was ash-brown, its scales looking like a cracked, dry riverbed. It lay completely motionless on a piece of driftwood. While the other animals scrambled around, it just sat there in absolute stillness. I stared at it for a long time. It didn’t exist to please anyone. You get close, it doesn’t flinch. You ignore it, it doesn’t beg for attention. Its emotions belong entirely to itself. It requires no comforting, and it certainly won’t comfort you. I wanted it. Not because it would provide emotional support, but precisely because it wouldn’t. There would be no expectations between us. No draining demands. I couldn’t achieve that kind of simplicity, but this creature could do it for me. “I’ll take him.” The shop owner blinked in surprise. “A lot of girls think they’re cool but get scared of them once they’re home. This is a living thing, you know. You have to commit.” “I’m not scared,” I said. When Sebastian came home and saw “Duke” in the living room, his expression was incredibly hard to read. He leaned close to the glass tank, staring at the lizard perched on the wood. “You bought this?” “Yeah.” “You’re not afraid of it?” “No.” He looked up at me and smiled. It was a genuinely soft smile. He reached out and lightly tapped my forehead. “You look so delicate. Who knew you were into cold-blooded reptiles. What’s his name?” “Duke.” The corner of his mouth twitched upward. It was subtle, but I caught it. “Pretty arrogant name.” “He earns it.” Sebastian nodded. He pulled out his phone and immediately ordered a premium heat mat and specialized calcium powder, stating that Duke would need them. “How do you know that?” I asked. “Did you research it?” He paused, as if weighing whether to tell the truth. “Yeah,” he finally said. “I used to have one. I gave it away.” “Why?” “Someone was scared of it.” I didn’t say a word. He didn’t elaborate either. He just pocketed his phone and looked at me. “You never answered me earlier. How was the movie?” The moment he asked, something inside me cracked. The floodgates holding back my humiliation and exhaustion just gave way. Tears spilled over my eyelashes. Sebastian actually looked startled. But he quickly masked it, stepping close to wipe the tears from my cheeks. “What’s wrong? Was the movie that bad?” I opened my mouth. I wanted to tell him I got stood up. I wanted to tell him I waited outside like an idiot for nothing. But the words that came out were… “Yeah. It was bad.” He pulled me firmly into his chest. He rested his chin on the top of my head, one hand cradling the back of my neck. His voice was a low murmur. “If it was that bad, we just won’t watch movies like that anymore.” His other hand patted my back in a slow, rhythmic motion, the way you soothe a frightened child. My mind flashed back to my childhood. Whenever I was upset, I desperately wanted my parents to hold me the way other kids were held. Instead, they would scold me, making me feel like my sadness was a burden, an emotion I hadn’t earned the right to express. The memory made me cry harder. I completely ruined the front of his shirt. By the time I pulled myself together and looked up, the fabric over his chest was soaked and severely wrinkled. I sniffled, suddenly feeling incredibly embarrassed. He glanced down at the wet patch on his chest, said absolutely nothing, and just used his thumb to wipe a stray tear off my jaw. “This shirt is designer. You’re going to have to pay for that.” My voice was thick and raspy. “I make a good salary. Send me the bill.” I immediately wired him fifteen hundred dollars from my phone. Sebastian was notoriously picky about his wardrobe. He never compromised on fabric or tailoring. Any random piece pulled from his closet was worth half my monthly rent. But the infuriating part was how effortlessly he wore it all, like those absurdly expensive clothes were custom-grown for his body. He flicked my forehead lightly. “You little brat. You used our joint Amex account to pay me back. You’re using my money to pay for my ruined shirt.” I suddenly remembered he had re-routed my primary payment method to his card the month prior. He caught my expression and let out a genuine laugh. “Do I really look that desperate for cash to you?” His smile slowly faded, replaced by a grounded sincerity. “If you’re upset and don’t want to talk about it, I’m not going to force it out of you. But I really hope you learn to let it out eventually. You can choke back your tears and swallow your voice, but whatever it is you’re keeping bottled up is rotting something inside you. And only you know what that is.” He didn’t press any further. He just softly asked, “Are you hungry? I’ll make us something.” I nodded. “I want pasta. With two fried eggs.” “Done.” His smile was breathtaking. But I never ended up eating that pasta. By the time Sebastian came out of the kitchen to get me, I was shivering on the couch, half-delirious. Getting caught in the cold rain earlier had triggered a brutal fever. When he reached out to check my forehead, I instinctively flinched away. In my past, getting sick always started with my father’s explosive lectures. He would scream about how irresponsible I was, how I was too old to not know how to take care of myself. Only after breaking me down would the pity show up in his eyes. I braced for the scolding, but it never came. Sebastian just turned around, grabbed a cool, damp towel, placed it gently over my brow, and coaxed me into swallowing some ibuprofen. Lying there, I listened to the sounds of the kitchen. The rhythmic chopping, the water boiling, the soft clatter of a wooden spoon against a pot. A long time passed before he walked in holding a bowl of soup. He sat on the edge of the mattress, stirring the broth and blowing on it to cool it down before lifting the spoon to my lips. “Open.” It was extremely late by the time he finished cooking. He could have easily ordered delivery on a corporate card, but he knew I loved his cooking, so he made it from scratch despite his exhaustion. He fed me spoon by spoon, never rushing. When the bowl was empty, he took a tissue and carefully dabbed the corner of my mouth. Then he pulled the heavy duvet up to my chin, tucking me in securely. He rested his warm palm against my forehead, his thumb stroking my hairline. “Go to sleep. I’m right here.” His voice was a deep, quiet anchor in the room. I closed my eyes, my fever-addled brain drifting into a hazy thought. Is this what love is supposed to be? I suppose so. I thought I could survive the rest of my life like this. From that night on, the air between us felt different. When the winter holidays hit, I drove Sebastian to the airport. He pinched my nose playfully at the drop-off zone. “It’s freezing out here. You really didn’t have to drive me all the way down here.” I didn’t say anything. I just threw my arms around his neck and hugged him tight. This was the first time we were going to be apart for an extended period. I hated letting him go, but there was a sick, secret thrill to it. I wanted to see if the distance would make him miss me. I wanted to see if he would panic, if he would finally be the one reaching out first. I was dead wrong. The moment his flight landed, he basically dropped off the face of the earth. I forced myself not to text him the first day. Around midnight, I got a generic “I’m home” text. After that, absolute radio silence. During my family’s holiday dinner, I stared blankly at my phone, waiting for his name to pop up on the screen. The house was packed with relatives. At the dinner table, my dad started recounting stories from my childhood, bragging to the aunts and uncles about how docile, obedient, and completely hassle-free I had always been. Then he looked at me and sighed. “But look at her now.” A suffocating wave of panic gripped my throat. I excused myself to my childhood bedroom and made the very first rebellious decision of my entire existence. At 2 AM, I booked the earliest flight upstate to his hometown. I packed a massive duffel bag full of specialty foods from my city, desperate to share them with him. During the three-hour flight, the window showed nothing but the pitch-black sky and my own tired reflection in the glass. My hair was a mess, but the thought of seeing Sebastian’s face ignited a warm, buzzing energy in my chest. The world was massive, but right now, I only wanted him. By 9 AM, I was standing outside his upscale apartment complex. My heart fluttering, I typed out a message. “I’m downstairs.” Nothing. I hesitated, wondering if I should call him. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement on a wooden bench near the courtyard entrance. Sebastian was sitting there. Hunter’s head was resting heavily on his shoulder. She looked like she was crying, her shoulders shaking in small, violent tremors. Sebastian had his arm wrapped securely around her. His other hand was gently stroking her hair. Neither of them spoke. They just sat there, glued together in the cold morning air. I stood behind the thick trunk of an oak tree, the winter chill sinking straight into my marrow. My phone vibrated in my palm. A text from Sebastian. “I’m not home right now.” I looked up. His hand was still firmly pressed against the small of Hunter’s back. He hadn’t let go for a single second. And he definitely hadn’t noticed me. I turned around and walked away in absolute silence. I knew Sebastian had just been sentenced to death in my heart, but the sheer logic of it didn’t stop the excruciating pain. I have zero memory of how I bought the return ticket or boarded the train back into the city. I only remember my hands and feet feeling like blocks of ice, my nose stinging from the bitter wind. On the train, an elderly woman sitting next to me noticed the bulging duffel bag in my lap. She smiled warmly. “Sweetheart, did your boyfriend buy you all those treats? He must really love you.” I nodded slowly. “Yeah. He really does.” The scenery whipped past the window like a broken film reel. The gray northern sky, the skeletal trees, the patches of dirty snow on distant rooftops. Inside the train, the atmosphere was loud and cheerful. It was the holidays, after all. People were glowing with joy. I sat glued to the window, absorbing the desolate winter outside while drowning in the noise inside. I suddenly wanted to scream and cry until my throat gave out. The universe is so endlessly vast, and I am so pathetically small. The world was spinning perfectly on its axis, completely unaffected by the fact that my entire life had just collapsed. I pulled out my phone and typed a message to him. “Sebastian, I miss you so much.” I missed him like I was dying of thirst. I knew I should be screaming in rage, but my heart was still begging for him. I despised myself for it. He didn’t call until much later that evening. I answered, and his voice flowed through the speaker, smooth and gentle as always. “Where are you right now?” I sniffled. Crying for hours had wrecked my vocal cords. “At home.” I paused, clutching the phone. “I was just messing with you this morning. I never left the apartment.” Maybe I couldn’t stomach the reality of what I had seen. Maybe I just refused to look that pathetic. So I lied. “Good. Look out your window. Come downstairs?” My heart slammed against my ribs. I practically ripped the curtains open. Sebastian was standing under the streetlamp below my apartment. He was wearing a charcoal wool overcoat, looking up at my window with a breathtakingly soft smile. “It’s freezing. Put a coat on before you come down.” I flew down the staircase, taking the steps two at a time. The entire way down, my brain spun with scenarios of how I was going to confront him. But the second I burst through the lobby doors and saw him, all my defenses crumbled into dust. I just looked at him, and the tears betrayed me, spilling over my cheeks. I launched myself into his chest. Sebastian wrapped his arms around me, patting my back steadily. He didn’t ask why I was crying. Instead, he pulled a small paper box from a boutique bag. “Basque burnt cheesecake. Just like I promised.” I took the box with trembling hands. But the air around him felt heavy. The conversation wasn’t over. He looked down at me, his gaze painfully serious. “Grace, there is something I need to tell you face to face.” He paused. His voice was still dipped in that same gentleness, but there was a heavy, suffocating finality to it.

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1 The city streets blurred past the passenger window. My brain was still stuck on an endless loop, replaying the word “Positive” printed on the clinic’s lab results. My wife suddenly broke the silence. Her voice was cold enough to freeze water. “There is something you need to know.” The smile died on my face. I watched her pull a folded document from her designer bag and toss it onto my lap. It was a DNA report. Under the section labeled “Father”, a name was stamped in bold ink. Garrison. My own brother-in-law. “That night you were burning up with a fever and passed out in the back seat.” She traced the leather of the steering wheel with one manicured fingernail. “He and I were right here in the front.” All the blood rushed straight to my head. I opened my mouth, but my throat felt like it had been filled with wet concrete. No sound came out. Valerie rested a hand over her slightly swollen stomach. Her eyes were completely dead. “If you can’t handle it, I’ll get rid of it. But don’t ever expect me to carry a child for you again.” She tossed the choice into my lap like we were discussing what to have for dinner. “To keep it or not. You call the shots.” The silence inside the SUV was suffocating. After a long time, I forced my mouth open. “Why? Why would you do this to me?” Black spots danced in my vision. It felt like invisible hands were wrapped around my throat, choking the air out of my lungs. Seeing the tears spilling down my face, Valerie pulled the car over. She reached out and wiped my cheek. “My older sister died without leaving a single kid behind. Garrison has no one left in this world to lean on. Giving him a child was the only thing I could do.” “If I terminate this pregnancy, I’m never going through the process again.” “If we keep it, I’ll make sure the kid calls you dad.” “It is entirely up to you.” Every word out of her mouth backed me further into a corner. I didn’t even have the strength to clench my fists. Just a few hours ago, she was wrapped in my arms, excitedly talking about our future family of three. As the director of the city’s top medical research foundation, she had been crying tears of joy. “We’re finally having a baby. I’m putting all my executive bonuses into a trust fund. I’m going to personally make sure he gets into an Ivy League school.” But a few hours later, she casually informed me the baby wasn’t mine. I raised a trembling fist in blind rage, but my hand dropped back down. “Valerie, you are completely out of your mind.” She didn’t flinch. She didn’t even raise her voice. “Let’s go home. I’ll make dinner.” Her tone was light. She reached over and gently clicked my seatbelt into place, acting like the conversation we just had never happened. I recoiled from her touch like I had been burned. Her face began to blur through my tears. The last time she had a miscarriage, I blamed myself entirely. The guilt dragged me into a severe, crippling depression. The local therapists couldn’t figure out how to help me, so Valerie used all her corporate connections to bring in a specialist from overseas. For countless days and nights, she dealt with my emotional breakdowns, bringing all her lab paperwork home just to keep an eye on me. Thinking back to how deeply we used to love each other, I couldn’t hold back my desperate question. “But you promised me. You promised you would try for another baby with me. Did none of that mean anything?” My intense reaction completely drained whatever patience she had left. “I am not holding a gun to your head and forcing you to raise this kid.” “You are forcing me.” My voice came out cracked and ruined. Valerie froze. Right at that moment, a motorcycle courier pulled up alongside our SUV and knocked on the glass. “Director. Garrison hurt his leg badly at the work site. You need to drive him to the emergency room right now.” All the color drained from Valerie’s face. She shoved me hard, pushing me toward the passenger door. “Walk home. You clearly need to cool off anyway.” She didn’t even leave me a parting glance. She hit the gas, and the heavy SUV roared down the street, leaving me behind. I hit the pavement hard. I struggled in the dirt for a long time before I could finally drag myself to my feet. I don’t know how long it took, but I stumbled my way back to our apartment. I walked straight to the expensive landline phone we rarely used. I picked up the receiver and dialed a number I had memorized long ago. “Hello. This is Rowan. I want to formally accept the volunteer teaching position in Alaska.” “Rowan. Thank God. That’s fantastic news.” After a brief moment of excitement, the voice on the other end hesitated. “But you need to be absolutely sure. Joining this project means relocating to the deep frontier. You’ll be stationed there permanently. It will be nearly impossible to visit your family. What about your wife…” I didn’t let him finish. “My mind is made up.” “Alright then. We’ll send a transport truck to pick you up in three days.” I hung up the phone and started packing my bags. We had been married for eight years. Every piece of furniture, every picture frame in this house was something we picked out together. She wanted to give all her corporate bonuses to Garrison. I hadn’t argued. I worked grueling freelance jobs just to pay our daily bills. Now, the home I had poured my entire soul into was popping like a cheap soap bubble. The front door clicked open. Valerie walked in. She saw me throwing clothes into a duffel bag and rolled her eyes, assuming I was throwing a tantrum. “You play these childish games every single time. If you don’t want the baby, just say it.” “Garrison was bleeding from a severe injury, and he still begged me to get an abortion so I wouldn’t upset you.” “He’s been through enough on his own. Can’t you learn to be a little less selfish?” A hollow, miserable laugh ripped out of my throat. “You think these past few years have been easy for me?” “That is enough.” Her patience was completely gone. “He lost his wife. He has nothing. No matter how much you complain, you still have me. You’ve been living a comfortable, easy life all these years just coasting on my status as a director.” I froze. A wave of pure absurdity washed over me. Ever since Valerie’s sister died in the line of duty, Valerie took it upon herself to act as Garrison’s surrogate wife. She catered to his every single demand. When a piece of falling debris cracked my skull open, she wasn’t there. When I was trapped in the mountains for three days during a brutal snowstorm on a charity run, she wasn’t there. Even on the day my father died of cancer, she wasn’t there. But every time Garrison had a minor cold or a scraped knee, she dropped everything and rushed to his side. And after all that, she had the nerve to say I was coasting on an easy life. My eyes burned. I laughed, mocking my own stupidity. “You’re a highly respected director, and you’re sleeping with your dead sister’s husband. Where is all that morality and dignity you love to preach about?” Right on cue, Garrison limped into the room. “Rowan, how could you say something like that? I’ve always treated you like my own little brother.” The man’s eyes immediately welled up with tears. “Blame me. It’s my fault. I was just too selfish. I wanted to leave a piece of my family behind. If you hate the idea of this baby so much, I’ll tell Valerie to go to the clinic right now.” He put on a pathetic display, turning around and limping toward the door, dramatically shouting about finding a doctor. Valerie clicked her tongue in annoyance and shoved me away in pure disgust. She turned to chase after him. The push sent me stumbling back. My head, still fragile from the old debris injury, slammed violently into the sharp corner of the coffee table. I grabbed her sleeve in agonizing pain. “Valerie. My head. It hurts so bad.” She violently yanked her arm out of my grip. “Sit here and think about what you’ve done. If his leg gets worse because of this, I’m holding you responsible.” The door slammed shut behind her, rattling the frames on the wall. It was only after she left that I felt the warm, thick liquid sliding down the back of my neck. Dizziness washed over me in sickening waves. I practically crawled across the floor to the landline and dialed the local emergency clinic. “I’m bleeding. My head. Please come help me.” I didn’t expect the voice on the other end of the line to be Valerie’s. She growled at me in pure irritation. “You are sitting safely at home. What danger could you possibly be in? Do not tie up the emergency medical lines for your petty tantrums ever again. Don’t call this number.” When I finally opened my eyes again, my head was wrapped in thick, tight gauze. A young nurse stood by the bed. She quietly told me that if they had found me a few minutes later, I would have bled to death. I reached up and touched the bandages. The pain in my chest was worse than the wound. Valerie. You almost murdered me with your own hands. Before I could even wipe the tears from my eyes, a neighbor from our apartment complex rushed into the room, looking terrified. “Rowan. The subsidized apartment the foundation promised your mother. Valerie just revoked the lease.” “You need to come quick. Your mom collapsed. It’s her heart.” It felt like lightning struck my spine. I didn’t even care about my head. I ripped the IV out and stumbled out of the clinic, practically dragging myself to the apartment block. When I arrived, Valerie was standing by the door, ordering a crew of movers to throw my mother’s belongings out onto the street. My mother had passed out from the shock, her frail body crumpled on the concrete. “What the hell are you doing?” I ran over like a madman and pulled my mother into my arms, glaring up at Valerie with pure hatred. There wasn’t a single shred of guilt in her eyes. Only deep, biting disgust. “Your mother has been walking around the complex spreading rumors that my baby belongs to Garrison. She is ruining our reputation.” I fired back with a bitter sneer. “Is it not the truth?” “You.” Valerie choked on her words. “My sister died a hero. Garrison is the widower of a hero. The foundation’s housing benefits absolutely must prioritize him.” “As for your mother, she can go back to her old slum. It makes no difference.” My mother seemed to hear those brutal words. She weakly twitched in my arms. When we got married, Valerie had knelt down in front of my mother, promising to treat her like her own flesh and blood. She personally promised to move my mother out of her rotting, leaky shack and put her in a safe, warm apartment. I never expected her promises to rot this quickly. Fighting through the blinding pain in my skull, I staggered to my feet and stood in front of her. “If anything happens to my mother, we are getting a divorce.” My words visibly knocked the wind out of her. She looked at my bloodstained clothes, then down at my unconscious mother. She opened her mouth, but couldn’t find her voice. Garrison picked the perfect moment to break the silence. He let out a pathetic, shaky sob. “Director. Just give the apartment to the old woman. I can sleep in an alley for all I care. You two can’t destroy your marriage over a guy like me.” His little speech instantly painted me as the hysterical villain. Valerie looked at me. Her eyes were full of absolute disappointment. “How can you throw the word divorce around so casually? You’re just saying that to torture him.” “Get over here and apologize to him right now.” I couldn’t hear her screaming anymore. I could only focus on my mother’s face, which was turning a terrifying shade of gray. I looked at the foundation’s private SUV parked nearby. It was my only hope. “I have nothing to apologize for. Valerie, order your driver to take my mom to the hospital. Now.” The second the words left my mouth, Garrison suddenly grabbed his thigh and let out a loud groan of agony. He twisted his face into a mask of pure suffering. “I was wrong. I’m sorry, Rowan. A worthless bachelor like me doesn’t deserve a child anyway.” Seeing his twisted, pained expression, Valerie didn’t hesitate. She grabbed his arm and practically carried him into the SUV. I chased after them, violently grabbing the car door handle, but she slapped my hand away with brutal force. My fresh stitches tore open. A wave of black dizziness hit me. The neighbors, completely confused by the drama, backed away from me like I carried a plague. Not a single person was willing to give us a ride. I had to drag my mother out to the main road, begging passing cars until a stranger finally pulled over. I carried her through the hospital doors, sprinting down the hallway, only to be blocked outside the intensive care wing. “I’m sorry, sir. We have absolutely zero beds left. We can’t admit her.” “Why not?” “Director Valerie has a VIP suite permanently reserved. This is her mother-in-law. Why can’t she use it?” I lost control of my facial expressions entirely. The nurse took a step back, her voice shaking. “The Director just checked her brother-in-law into that exact room ten minutes ago. The slot is completely occupied.” I turned my head stiffly and looked through the glass of the VIP suite. Garrison was lounging on the premium hospital bed, casually eating slices of fresh apple. Valerie was hovering nervously by his side, handing him a glass of water, acting exactly like a devoted wife. I shoved the door open, shattering their perfect domestic scene. “Valerie. My mom…” “Why are you stalking us?” Valerie cut me off, her eyes blazing with fury. “His leg flared up because of the vile things you said. If we were a second later, he could have lost the leg entirely.” Right at that moment, Garrison speared a piece of apple with a toothpick and chewed it slowly, looking completely relaxed. He didn’t look like a man fighting for his life. Valerie shoved me out of the suite and locked the door from the inside. My entire body was violently shaking. I had to find a way to transfer my mother to a private hospital. But when I checked my pockets, I realized I couldn’t even afford a taxi ride across town. I spotted Valerie’s assistant in the hallway. I grabbed her arm like a drowning man grabbing a lifeline. “Valerie’s executive bonus for this month. Please, let me get an advance on it. I swear on my life I will pay her back.” The assistant wouldn’t meet my eyes. She stammered out a reply. “The Director spent the entire bonus on imported supplements for Garrison. There’s nothing left in the account.” My grip went totally slack. My eyes were bloodshot and wild. I watched my mother struggling for every single breath. Every second that ticked by felt like a knife dragging across my heart. In a sheer panic, my hand brushed against the heavy jade pendant around my neck. It was the wedding gift Valerie brought back from an expedition years ago. Even when I was starving and living off stale bread, I never thought about pawning it. Now, I didn’t care. I ripped the necklace off and shoved it into the hands of the attending doctor. “This is a genuine antique. It’s incredibly valuable. Please, use this as collateral. Do something.” The doctor, who clearly knew a bit about jewelry, glanced at it and pushed it back into my chest. “Somebody ripped you off, buddy. This is a cheap piece of glass from a tourist trap. It’s basically a toy.” In a split second, the blood froze in my veins. The assistant couldn’t bear to watch anymore. She quietly explained the truth. “The Director did bring back a priceless jade piece from that trip. But she gave it to Garrison as soon as she landed. Yours… she bought yours at a gift shop down the street.” The fake jade slipped through my fingers and smashed against the tile floor, shattering into two pathetic pieces. Every ounce of strength drained from my body. Right there, sitting in the freezing, sterile hospital stairwell, my mother took her last breath. I bit down on my own lip so hard it bled. The sound of my own shattered sobbing echoed through the concrete walls. That night, after making the final arrangements for my mother’s body, I picked up my duffel bag and climbed into the transport truck heading for Alaska. At the exact same time, Valerie finished tucking Garrison into bed. She stepped out of the VIP suite and handed a stack of cash to her assistant. “Take this to my husband. Buy his mother some decent vitamins on the way.” “Tell him I’ll personally take him to get his head checked at the clinic tomorrow.” The assistant didn’t take the money. She kept her hands by her sides and spoke in a trembling whisper. “His mother passed away tonight.” “What?” Valerie’s heart plummeted into her stomach. She sprinted down the hallway and bolted out of the hospital doors. As she recklessly sped her SUV back toward our apartment, a dark green transport truck passed her going the opposite direction. She didn’t even glance at it. She just wanted to get home. She had no idea I was already on my way to the frozen frontier, and I was never coming back.

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