Category: English

It was over. Again. His large hand wrapped around my ankle, silently demanding another round. A surge of frustration bubbled up in my chest. I kicked out, my bare foot planting squarely against his firm chest. Before he could react, glowing lines of text suddenly materialized in the air right in front of my eyes. [The male lead and the side character have zero chemistry. Just stop already. Neither of them is even enjoying this.] [Honestly, he doesn’t even like her. He’s just using her to get off.] [Can the side character stop hogging him? The female lead is the delicate, sweet sorority girl he’s actually destined to be with. They’re going to meet so soon.] [Stop being delusional, girl. He doesn’t love you. If he did, why would he be okay with hurting you? If I remember the plot correctly, the side character literally dies from severe internal hemorrhaging after he pushes her too far.] I pressed my foot down harder against his skin. A muffled grunt escaped his throat. Instantly, I pulled my leg back. “I don’t want to do this anymore,” I said, my voice completely devoid of warmth. 01 Bob froze. Those striking amber eyes, still dark and heavy with lingering desire, looked up at me in pure confusion. “Why?” he asked, his voice rough and gravelly. I kept my face perfectly blank. Rolling out of bed, my legs immediately gave out. My lower back ached so deeply I had to stumble forward a few steps just to catch my balance. Bob’s expression shifted to immediate concern as he reached out to steady me. I swatted his hands away. Turning around, I locked eyes with him and spoke with slow, deliberate precision. “I told you to slow down earlier. Why didn’t you listen?” I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.” “I thought you liked it that way.” I broke eye contact, letting the silence stretch between us. I didn’t have the energy to argue. Instead, I turned and walked straight into the bathroom. The floating text I had just seen refused to leave my mind. Deep down, I knew there was a suffocating layer of truth to those glowing words. Bob was the untouchable golden boy of our university. The ice prince everyone wanted but no one could have. I was the one who had chased him relentlessly until he finally agreed to date me. But ever since we made it official, he had remained completely emotionally unavailable. Except when we were in bed. Bob possessed an almost terrifying stamina. Every single time, it lasted for hours. When my body was entirely spent, when I was trembling and whispering for him to stop because it was starting to ache, the man acted like he was completely deaf. He would just stubbornly pull me right back against his chest. His voice would drop to that gentle yet chillingly possessive whisper right against my ear. “Just a little longer, baby. Bear with me.” He never took my feelings into account. He never cared if I was hurting. I closed my eyes, letting the hot water from the shower wash over my face, carrying the salty taste of my tears down the drain. By the time I stepped out of the bathroom, I had locked all my emotions into a tight little box. Bob was sitting on the edge of the mattress. His gaze immediately snapped to me, his lips parting like he wanted to explain himself. I cut him off before he could try. “I’m exhausted.” Hearing that, he pressed his lips together, stood up in silence, and headed toward the shower. “Get some sleep, then.” I turned off all the lights and slipped under the covers. But sleep wouldn’t come. I tossed and turned, staring at the ceiling. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed before Bob quietly re-entered the dark room. He smelled faintly of mint body wash. His movements were incredibly cautious. Just like always, he lay down on the absolute farthest edge of the mattress. Creating as much distance between us as humanly possible. Our physical intimacy strictly existed only when we were actively sleeping together. Outside of that, we were strangers sharing a bed. Right on cue, the floating text illuminated the darkness. [Yikes. He genuinely despises her. He won’t even cuddle her.] [If I were her, I would have dumped him ages ago. What’s the point of clinging to a guy who acts like this?] [Let’s be real. If his destined girl hadn’t shown up so late in the timeline, and if he didn’t have such a crazy high sex drive, he never would have settled for the side character.] I blinked rapidly at the ceiling. The bridge of my nose started to burn. I absolutely hated how easily I cried. I didn’t want to shed another tear over him, but my body simply wouldn’t listen to my brain. In the pitch black, I clamped both hands over my mouth, terrified of making even the slightest sound. Thankfully, I didn’t have to hold it in for long. A few minutes later, Bob suddenly threw off the covers and walked out of the bedroom. A bitter smile tugged at the corners of my lips. My relief was entirely overshadowed by a crushing wave of sadness. The comments were right. Bob didn’t love me. He probably didn’t even like me. The holographic words danced in the air, relentlessly mocking my misery. [When a guy doesn’t love you, it’s so obvious. He doesn’t even want to breathe the same air as her.] [She’s so useless. She can’t even satisfy him in bed, and now he has to go take a cold shower.] [If the female lead were here, she would definitely know how to keep him happy.] I squeezed my eyes shut. My mind violently flashed back to that specific sentence. The side character dies from severe internal bleeding. A violent shudder racked my spine. I didn’t want to die. I needed to break up with Bob. 02 The next morning. When I woke up, Bob’s side of the bed was already cold. I got dressed in silence and was just about to leave his apartment when the front door swung open. Bob walked in. He had faint dark circles under his eyes, likely from not sleeping at all last night. He was holding a brown paper bag from my favorite artisan bakery downtown. It was miles away from campus, and the line was notoriously brutal on weekend mornings. He set the pastries and coffees on the kitchen island, arranging them meticulously. Only when everything was perfectly laid out did he look up at me. “Are you going to eat?” “Skipping breakfast is bad for your stomach.” I nodded slowly and took a seat on the barstool across from him. The spread was massive. Every single thing on the counter was something I absolutely loved. And it was all still piping hot. It meant Bob had rushed straight back without wasting a single second. Looking at the steam rising from my coffee, a tiny crack formed in the walls I had built around my heart. What if the floating comments were just messing with my head? What if Bob just had a cold personality, but deep down, he actually cared about me? I needed to know the truth. I sniffled quietly, lifting my gaze to meet his deep, unreadable eyes. “Bob, do you—” Before I could finish the sentence, a sharp ping echoed through the kitchen. It was Bob’s phone. Both of our eyes dropped to the glowing screen resting on the marble counter. I could see the notification clear as day. It was a message from a girl saved as Karen. [Hey Bob! When are you free today to help me with…] The preview cut off there. My eyes remained glued to that glowing rectangle. I couldn’t look away. The floating texts immediately swarmed my vision. [Look at her face! Little does she know the male lead added the female lead on social media weeks ago.] [And HE was the one who asked HER out to dinner! Buying breakfast for the side piece means nothing. Karen is the only one who matters in his heart.] [Just give up, girl. You can’t fight the plot.] Right. I was just making a fool of myself again. Bob noticed my shift in demeanor. “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly. I lowered my eyes, shoving a piece of croissant into my mouth. “Nothing,” I mumbled around the pastry. A second later, Bob seemed to realize what had happened. He picked up his phone and slid it across the marble straight to me. He stared right into me. “Do you want to check my phone?” I froze. We had been dating for nearly a year. We had always respected each other’s privacy. We never snooped. In that moment, a war waged in my head. One side screamed: He’s offering it! Just look. Put your mind at ease. The other side whispered: What’s the point? What if you find exactly what you’re afraid of? And even if his messages are clean today, that doesn’t mean they will be tomorrow. Besides, Karen was the main character. How could I possibly compete with destiny? I pressed my lips together. After a few agonizing seconds, I slid the phone back across the counter. I shoved all my chaotic emotions down into a dark pit, forced a painfully fake smile, and gave him the calmest response I could muster. “No.” “I trust you.” Bob’s eyes darkened. He studied my face for a long, heavy moment before looking away. “…Okay.” For some bizarre reason, that single word sounded almost hurt. I brushed it off. I was definitely just projecting. It was Monday. I left his place and headed straight to the science building for my morning lecture. Thanks to those cursed floating comments, my anxiety was through the roof all day. Of course, the professor randomly called on me to answer a complex question. Luckily, I had practically memorized the textbook, so I managed to get through it without embarrassing myself. When the bell finally rang, I walked out of the double doors. Bob was leaning against the brick wall waiting for me, dressed in gray sweatpants and a crisp white tee. He was here to walk me back. 03 Normally, I would have practically sprinted over and intertwined my fingers with his. Today, all I felt was a dull, heavy exhaustion. Right on time, the glowing words appeared to ruin my day. [LMAO, does she actually think he came here just for her? He only swung by because he was dropping Karen off at the auditorium next door.] [Yeah, he’s just doing the bare minimum so she doesn’t throw a tantrum.] My fingers dug into the straps of my backpack. I walked up to him, stopped a few feet away, and kept my voice flat. “Let’s go.” Bob’s hand had started to lift. It hovered in the empty air between us. His fingers curled inward. He looked down at my hands, his expression completely unreadable. I didn’t wait for him. I just started walking. After a few steps, I realized he wasn’t beside me. I turned around to see him still rooted to the exact same spot. “Are you coming or not?” He looked up at my face, looking genuinely lost. “Did I do something to upset you?” I didn’t answer right away. But the question burned in my throat until I finally just spat it out. “Where did you come from just now?” He blinked, clearly caught off guard by the question. But he answered honestly. “The auditorium.” A bitter smile twisted my lips. The truth felt like a physical blow, even though I already knew it. But a sick, masochistic part of me needed to hear the rest. “You dropped Karen off at the auditorium first, and then came over here to pick me up. Right?” Bob’s jaw clenched tight. He gave a slow nod. “Are you mad?” “If you don’t like it, next time I’ll just—” “Don’t bother,” I interrupted. I wasn’t actually mad at him. I just felt incredibly defeated. If everything the comments said was true, then he was the leading man, Karen was his destined love, and I was just a temporary roadblock. They were bound by the universe to fall in love. How was I supposed to fight the universe? I let out a shaky sigh and looked at the pavement. “I’m just tired. I want to go back to my dorm.” Something dark flickered in Bob’s eyes. He stared at me for a few agonizing seconds. Then, he stepped forward, smoothly slipped my heavy backpack off my shoulders, and started walking with long, purposeful strides. “Let’s go.” “I’ll walk you.” We didn’t speak a single word the entire way across campus. When we finally reached the steps of my dorm building, Bob just stood there holding my bag. He made absolutely no move to hand it over or say goodbye. He just stared at me in that intense, quiet way of his. I frowned. “What is it?” Bob looked down. His voice was terrifyingly low. “You always kiss me before you go inside.” He was right. Every single time before today, I did. Usually, I practically begged him for a kiss. But today, my heart felt completely hollow. I shook my head, reached out, and yanked my backpack out of his grip. My voice sounded as exhausted as I felt. “Maybe next time.” “…Okay.” Once I was safely locked inside my room, I sat on my bed and tried to figure out how to navigate this mess. The floating texts were driving me insane. But what was even worse was that every single thing they predicted turned out to be completely true in reality. Logic screamed at me to cut my losses and dump him. But my heart felt like it was bleeding. I couldn’t just let him go. I had fought so hard to get him. Before the comments showed up, our relationship wasn’t perfect. He was distant, and he was way too aggressive in the bedroom. But aside from that, he treated me well. And, if I was being completely honest, the physical side of our relationship was intoxicating when it wasn’t hurting me. While I was spiraling, my phone buzzed with a calendar notification: [Bob’s Birthday.] It was tomorrow. I had already bought his gift weeks ago. And right on cue, the floating text flooded my cramped dorm room: [Oh my god, is she actually planning to celebrate his birthday? Karen has already booked the entire night for him.] [If she doesn’t believe it, she should check out the Grand Plaza Hotel tomorrow. Karen set up a massive surprise party. He’s not going to care about whatever cheap trash the side character bought him.] [Girl, I am begging you. Dump him. You are literally marching toward a bad ending.] I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted copper. I sat there in silence for a very long time. This time, I wasn’t going to just blindly trust the text. I needed to see it with my own two eyes. 04 The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes the next morning was a text from Bob: [SGA stuff all morning.] [I’ll pick you up at noon.] I typed back a quick: [Okay.] Thanks to the toxic commentary from last night, a seed of pure paranoia had taken root in my chest. Was he actually working? I got dressed, ordered a rideshare, and headed straight for the luxury hotel the comments had mentioned. A quick chat with the concierge confirmed there was indeed a private birthday luncheon happening in one of the VIP suites. I took the elevator up. The second the silver doors slid open, I saw him. Bob was standing in the corridor. He had one hand casually tucked into his pocket, a rare, soft smile playing on his lips as he looked down at the girl standing in front of him. Karen looked down shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. A pretty blush dusted her cheeks. The chemistry between them was so incredibly perfect it almost looked like a movie scene. It was so perfect I felt like an intruder just by looking at them. I braced my hand against the cold wall. My knees felt like they were going to give out. So… he really did lie to me. [Look at her face. Reality check, much? He doesn’t love you.] [Look at him smiling at Karen! He’s so focused on her he hasn’t even noticed his actual girlfriend standing ten feet away.] [Listen to me, girl. Dump him. You deserve better anyway.] I inhaled sharply, trying to hold back the tears. Seeing it with my own eyes felt like a knife twisting directly in my chest. I stood frozen for a few seconds, trying to gather the strength to turn around and sneak away. But then, a familiar, surprised voice rang out. “Amanda.” Bob had caught sight of me in his periphery. He instantly closed the distance between us, his long strides eating up the hallway. Karen trailed right behind him. I turned my head. I stared blankly at the two of them standing side by side. I didn’t say a word. Karen was the first to break the suffocating tension. Her smile looked incredibly stiff as she glanced between us. “Bob… you have a girlfriend?” Bob stepped right up next to me. He smoothly took my purse from my shoulder, the softness in his eyes completely unchanged. “Yeah.” “Karen, meet my girlfriend, Amanda.” The hallway fell into a dead, horrifyingly awkward silence. The floating texts went absolutely wild: [Omg, the male lead is so responsible and honest! Even though he’s not into the side character, he didn’t lie to the female lead to get in her pants!] […Isn’t that just basic human decency?] [Exactly. Stop praising a man for doing the bare minimum.] [Wait, look! The male lead is physically reacting to the female lead! It’s biological destiny!] I flinched. My eyes automatically dropped toward Bob’s waistline. But I couldn’t see anything. He had strategically placed my purse directly in front of himself. Karen, standing directly across from him, was completely oblivious. But from where I was standing right next to him, I had a very clear view of what he was hiding. I snapped my gaze back up. A bitter, reckless laugh escaped my throat. “He doesn’t have to have a girlfriend if he doesn’t want to.” The second the words left my mouth, both of them whipped their heads to look at me. Karen looked utterly bewildered. “What?” Bob’s eyes went completely dark. He said absolutely nothing. I forced a fake, breezy smile. “Just a joke.” The ride back to campus was agonizingly quiet. Bob walked beside me, radiating a tense, heavy silence. It wasn’t until we reached the courtyard of my dorm that he finally lowered his eyes, unable to hold it in anymore. “Amanda, did I do something wrong?” I stopped dead in my tracks. I turned my head to look at him. I couldn’t just sweep this under the rug. “You texted me that you had student government work.” “Bob, if you were working, why were you at the Grand Plaza Hotel?” His dark eyelashes fluttered. When he spoke, his voice was tight and raspy. “I’m sorry.” “The events committee sent me that address. They said we were meeting a vendor for the winter formal. But when I got there, the vendor had already left. I was just about to text you when you walked off the elevator.” I closed my eyes. A crushing wave of absolute exhaustion washed over me. It felt like the universe was constantly pulling strings behind the scenes just to force the two main characters into the same room. And I was powerless to stop it. 05 While I was zoning out, Bob stepped closer and gently wrapped his warm hand around mine. His palm was so comforting. His voice was calm, with that familiar cool tone, but there was a hint of pleading in it. “I made a reservation for dinner. Let’s go eat, okay?” I slowly shook my head. With agonizing precision, I pulled my hand out of his grip, slipping my fingers away one by one. “No.” “I have plans tonight. Maybe next time.” I had finally made up my mind. If I didn’t have the courage to break it off entirely right this second, I was going to slowly distance myself. I would pull away, piece by piece. Until one day, letting him go wouldn’t hurt anymore. Bob turned completely rigid. He stared at me like I had just grown a second head. It took him a long time to find his voice. He looked entirely devastated. “Do you really not remember what day today is?” How could I possibly forget? I had booked an impossible-to-get reservation a week in advance just to celebrate his birthday. I had bought his gift a month ago. An expensive watch and a tiny, hand-knit bear were currently sitting at the bottom of the purse he was still holding for me. But now? There was no point in giving them to him. I reached out and pulled my bag from his hands. My face was unnervingly blank. “It’s nothing important.” The color instantly drained from Bob’s face. His lips parted. It looked like he was desperately trying to force words out of his throat. After a suffocating silence, he just dropped his gaze to the concrete and echoed my words. “Right.” “Nothing important.” The comments started flooding my vision again in a chaotic frenzy: [Omg the male lead looks utterly shattered! It’s HIS birthday, and he even bought a gift for HER, and she totally forgot!] [Turn around, Bob! Karen is waiting for you!] [Why hasn’t he dumped her yet? She treats him like garbage. I feel so bad for him.] [Don’t worry, the side character’s exit is coming right up.] I turned my back on him and started walking toward the dorm doors. My chest felt so tight I could barely breathe. But I didn’t look back. Not even once. When I finally got to my room, I opened my bag, fully intending to shove the watch and the bear into the darkest corner of my bottom drawer. But my fingers brushed against a velvet box that didn’t belong to me. I pulled it out and popped it open. Inside sat a breathtakingly gorgeous diamond necklace. I recognized it immediately. The last time we went to the mall, I had stared at it in the display window for far too long, only to walk away when I saw the price tag. He had actually gone back and bought it. I blinked rapidly. Tears instantly blurred my vision. I didn’t even know what I was feeling anymore. Through my tear-filled eyes, the glowing text materialized to ruin the moment. [Aww, is the side character touched? Plot twist: He bought it for Karen, but she rejected it, so he just pawned it off on his girlfriend.] [LMAO, basic girls are so easy to manipulate.] Right. I was being delusional again. I furiously wiped the tears off my cheeks. This time, I didn’t even consider confronting Bob to ask if it was true. Every single time I dug for the truth, I ended up getting hurt. I was so incredibly done. Over the next few weeks, I successfully managed to avoid him. Whenever class ended, I would immediately disappear into the chaotic crowd of students. Whenever he texted asking to hang out, I used midterms and study groups as an excuse. The first few days were agonizing. But eventually, I started getting used to being on my own. I certainly didn’t expect our inevitable collision to happen like this. I had recently won a prestigious academic scholarship, and the campus newspaper wanted to do a quick profile on me. We couldn’t find an empty study room on campus anywhere. Desperate, the senior running the interview suggested booking a cheap day-rate hotel room right off campus just for thirty minutes to record the interview in peace. I never in a million years expected to run into Bob in the lobby. His hand clamped around my wrist like a vice. The edges of his eyes were rimmed with angry red as he physically blocked my path, refusing to let me walk past him. “Do not go up there with him.” I scowled, trying to rip my arm out of his grip. “Let go of me.” Bob planted his feet. He was like an immovable brick wall.

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1 At my birthday party, my brother organized a game of “Never Have I Ever.” The winner would get to ask him for one favor, no strings attached. Everyone at the party knew that I had been brought back to the Stone family three years ago, but I still hadn’t been officially recognized or allowed to move into the main estate. They all purposefully let me win, whispering that my brother was finally giving me a chance to come home. Only the fake heiress, Wendy, fought me at every turn. “My brother gives me fifty thousand dollars a month for allowance.” “He bid a million dollars on a diamond necklace just for me.” “I get to spend every holiday with the family, front and center.” “My name is officially written in the Stone family registry.” After her four sentences, I only had one finger left up. She smiled sweetly and delivered the final blow. “My brother organized this entire game tonight just to make me happy.” My heart hollowed out. I looked at my brother. He was smiling at her with absolute adoration. Just like every single time over the last three years, he chose her side. I admitted defeat and put down my last finger. Suddenly, I realized I didn’t really want to go home anymore. … A bizarre, heavy silence fell over the private room. Everyone’s eyes landed on me, waiting to see how I would react. I simply smiled, picked up my shot glass, and downed the liquor in one go. “I lose.” Someone couldn’t handle the awkwardness and tried to smooth things over. “Actually, didn’t Wendy break the rules? Who brings up family drama in a drinking game?” Wendy raised an eyebrow and shot the girl a glare. “Why not? Isn’t this how the game is played?” She turned to my brother, her voice dripping with sugar. “Vance, did I break the rules?” My brother’s eyes crinkled in helpless affection. “You win.” “I set this game up to cheer you up anyway.” “What do you want? Name it.” Wendy shot me a provocative look. “Then you have to take me shopping tomorrow. I want a new dress, and you have the best taste.” I set my empty glass down on the marble table. I lowered my head, expertly avoiding Wendy’s arrogant stare. I had been practicing this exact act of yielding for three years. I was fluent in it. It was so natural that even my brother didn’t notice anything wrong with my mood. He frowned slightly, looking a bit conflicted. “But I promised Maya I’d help her move tomorrow.” My chest tightened. For the three years since I was brought back to the city, I had been living in a small apartment in the suburbs, miles away from the Stone estate. Last month, my brother asked me what I wanted for my birthday. I told him I wanted to be officially recognized. I wanted my name in the family registry. He had patted my head with a sigh. “Pick something else. You know Wendy is really sensitive about that.” “I’ve been trying my best to talk her into it. Once she agrees, you can come home.” I had lowered my eyes, taking a step back as always. “Then… can I at least move closer to the estate?” “Where I am now is too far. It’s inconvenient to go anywhere.” He had frowned, not agreeing immediately, only saying he would think about it. I knew the truth. He had to go ask Wendy for permission. This little princess had stolen my life and grown up surrounded by their unconditional love. Even my own mother walked on eggshells around her, terrified of making her upset. Sure enough, yesterday my brother told me Wendy had approved the move. He had already found me an apartment downtown. Once my birthday passed, I could move in. I had been overjoyed, begging him to come help me. He had promised. The dim, shifting lights of the private club washed over Wendy’s face. She scowled. “Why does she have to move tomorrow? Can’t she do it the day after? Or next week?” Seeing her get upset, my brother immediately softened. “There’s no rush to buy a dress, right? We can go any other day.” “I want to go tomorrow! That dress is limited edition and it’s going to sell out!” Wendy raised her voice, making the atmosphere in the room even more unbearable. With so many people watching, my brother’s face darkened slightly. A moment later, his lips parted. He was just about to say something. But I spoke first. “You guys go shopping tomorrow.” “I’m not moving anymore. Where I live right now is fine.” The moment the words left my mouth, my brother snapped his head toward me in absolute shock. 2 My brother knew exactly how desperately I wanted to move downtown, how much I wanted to be closer to the family. So when he saw me actively stepping aside to defuse the situation, a flicker of guilt and heartache crossed his eyes. “Let’s play another round,” he suggested, looking directly at me. “Maya goes first this time.” I didn’t say anything for a long moment. The girl sitting next to me nudged my arm. “Come on, hurry up! Your brother is throwing you a bone. You’ll definitely win this round!” I raised my hand, all five fingers up, and looked dead at Wendy. “I have seen the sunrise deep in the mountains at 4:00 AM.” The crowd immediately played along, groaning in exaggerated defeat. Wendy rolled her eyes and put down a finger. Then she couldn’t wait to speak. “I have seen the Northern Lights in Iceland with the whole family.” My expression didn’t change as I folded a finger down. I spoke slowly. “I have raised a three-hundred-pound pig.” She scrunched her nose in absolute disgust. “I own a registered star in the sky. Mom bought it for my birthday.” I lowered my eyelashes, my voice entirely flat. “I have arranged and managed my adoptive parents’ funerals completely alone.” She froze for a second, then gritted her teeth. “I attended high-society charity galas representing the entire Stone family when I was eighteen!” The entire room fell dead silent. At some point, the game had become a duel between just the two of us. I didn’t back down. I held up my last two fingers, my voice completely devoid of emotion. “At my lowest weight, I was seventy pounds.” Wendy refused to show weakness, pushing harder. “I have twenty million in my bank account and three oceanfront villas!” If she was pulling out numbers like that, it meant she was out of real ammunition to show off. I gently curled the corners of my mouth into a smile. “I don’t have a home.” She folded her last finger. She opened her mouth, trying to find another comeback. Then she realized she had already lost. Her face turned an ugly shade of red. Just as she angrily reached for her shot glass, my brother grabbed her wrist. “I’ll drink this for you.” He downed the liquor in one smooth motion. Then, his face completely dark, he stormed over, grabbed my arm, and dragged me out into the hallway. “Why did you say those things? Are you trying to play the victim?” “I know you suffered in the countryside, but tonight wasn’t the time to fish for sympathy!” My heart plummeted into a bottomless pit. I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol hitting my system or just an overwhelming, suffocating sense of injustice. Whatever it was, the dam holding back three years of suppressed emotions finally broke. “Wendy can flaunt her perfect life, but when I talk about my own life, I’m playing the victim?” “Could you possibly be any more biased?” My brother’s face turned to thunder. “She doesn’t know any better! Are you saying you don’t know better either?” “I actually thought you were being understanding earlier. I was going to make sure you moved tomorrow no matter what. And then you pull a stunt like this?” “Maya, have I let you starve these last three years? Have I not given you enough money?” “What exactly are you in such a rush for?!” My pupils constricted. I stared at him in utter disbelief. “So you think the reason I’m desperate to come home… is for your money?” 3 My brother found me the year my adoptive parents died. I had violently lost everything. I had pushed through the physical exhaustion and heartbreak to handle their funerals all by myself. At my absolute lowest, most helpless moment, he descended like a god from above. With bloodshot eyes, he told me that I was the biological daughter of the Stone family. “Maya, come back with me. Mom and Dad are waiting for you.” “It’s too hard here. How have you survived all these years…” I weighed seventy pounds at the time. My severely malnourished body disappeared into his embrace. His hands shook uncontrollably. His voice was raw. “I’m so sorry. I’m late. I let you suffer so much.” I had stood frozen, not knowing what to do with my hands. He was so tall. So elegant. I felt like my dirt and poverty were staining his expensive coat just by him hugging me. I was incredibly insecure, but I couldn’t stop the overwhelming surge of emotion that came from finding my real blood. So, I viewed him as my ultimate salvation, and I followed him back to the city. But he didn’t take me home. He put me in a small apartment on the outskirts of the city. “Actually, our family has another daughter. She really doesn’t want you to come back. She’s been screaming and crying, threatening to jump off the roof.” “Maya, just give it a little time. Let me talk her down.” To keep me calm, he brought our mother to see me. The moment the elegant, aristocratic woman laid eyes on me, she burst into tears. “Maya… look how big you’ve gotten. Mommy is so sorry!” Just like my brother, she pulled me into a tight hug, her voice breaking with heartache. “Just wait a little longer. Mommy will make Wendy understand!” I hugged her back, terrified of breaking the moment. “Okay. I’ll wait.” She patted my head with relief and pulled a black credit card from her designer bag. “You can spend whatever you want on this card. Even though you can’t come home yet, you get the exact same treatment as Wendy!” I pushed the card back in panic, feeling unworthy. But she forcefully shoved it into my pocket. “Alright, Mommy has to go. If I stay out too long, Wendy will get suspicious.” “Next time I come, we’ll have dinner together, okay?” I nodded my head furiously. “Okay! Thank you, Mom!” Who knew that “wait a little longer” would turn into three years. In those three years, whenever I cautiously brought up going home, my brother would just sigh. “Let’s talk about it in a few days.” In the beginning, his tone was gentle. But as time went on, and he realized I was a pushover who wouldn’t throw explosive tantrums like Wendy, he grew annoyed. “You have everything you need right now. Why are you in such a rush to move in?” “Do you have any idea how much pressure I’m under just sneaking out to see you? We can barely hide it from Wendy anymore.” I couldn’t understand it. “Why do I need her permission to return to my own house?” “Mom sneaks around just to see me. Am I even a daughter of the Stone family?” His face had darkened instantly. “You are my biological sister. Of course you’re a Stone.” “But we love Wendy too. Are we supposed to just watch her jump off a building?” I fell silent. Seeing me upset, he had helplessly grabbed my hand. “Don’t worry, you’ll come home eventually.” “Once Wendy softens up, I’ll arrange for you two to meet. Try to become friends with her.” “Once you have a good relationship, she’ll naturally accept you.” I had never imagined that the road back to my own family would be littered with so many insurmountable walls. That was the first time since arriving in the city that I truly missed my adoptive parents. And now, any lingering hope I had of returning to the Stone family had completely shattered.

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My online boyfriend is a bit of a weirdo. He constantly sends me pictures of his pet snake, always asking me if I think the little guy is handsome. I honestly am not a huge fan of reptiles. But my virtual boyfriend is a god at video games, has a voice like liquid velvet, and is incredibly generous with his wallet. So, I routinely swallow my conscience and shower the reptile with praise. “Absolutely gorgeous!” “That is literally the most handsome snake I have ever seen in my entire life!” He would always text back, “Does my baby like him?” I would reply in seconds. “I love him! So much!” Fully satisfied, the man on the other end of the screen would casually wire me five thousand dollars. Eventually, I wanted to meet up in real life. But when I arrived at our agreed location, the only thing waiting for me was that little black snake. 1 It was incredibly easy to recognize the little black snake. After all, Asher sent me pictures of him every single day. “This is his front profile.” “This is his back.” “Here is a side view.” I practically had the reptile’s anatomy memorized. So, even though the little black snake had been meticulously groomed today, wearing a miniature top hat and a tiny silk bowtie, I recognized him instantly. The strange part was that Asher was nowhere to be found. I mean, I look pretty good in person. There was no way he got spooked by my appearance, abandoned his precious pet, and made a run for it, right? Maybe he just stepped out to take a call or grab something from a store. I thought about standing a bit further away to wait. But the moment the little snake locked his emerald-green slit pupils on me, his eyes lit up with an unnatural brightness. He let out a soft hiss. He genuinely seemed thrilled to see me. I was still a little creeped out. But then I remembered this was the beloved pet of my stupidly rich, overly generous internet boyfriend. I had to put on the performance of a lifetime. Bracing myself, I sat down next to him. The light in the little snake’s eyes grew even brighter. He happily wiggled the very tip of his tail, slowly inching closer to me. Swallowing the urge to scream, I put on my best gentle, maternal smile. I even reached out and lightly teased his chin. Sitting alone at a table with a reptile was getting incredibly awkward, so I gathered my courage and spoke to it. “You are so cute.” The little snake actually seemed to understand me. A faint, rosy flush miraculously appeared on his dark, scaly face. Testing the waters, I added, “You look even better in person than in your photos.” The snake was over the moon. He even lifted his tail tip to wave at me. Fighting down my primal human fear of cold-blooded creatures, I did my absolute best to interact with the little guy. I was determined to make sure that when Asher finally came back, he would see me radiating pure, maternal love. And then, hopefully, he would wire me another five grand. But I kept up the act from noon until nightfall. Sitting in that high-end luxury restaurant, I drank three artisan lemonades, ate a plate of truffle pasta, two salads, and three different cuts of steak. I texted Asher ten different times. No reply. No Asher. It wasn’t until midnight that the waiter finally approached my table. “Miss Sophie, we are preparing to close for the night.” Was this bastard Asher playing some kind of sick joke on me? Feeling utterly humiliated, I reached for my purse to pay the massive bill. The waiter just smiled warmly and shook his head. “The future boss’s wife never has to pay for her meals.” The staff even brought out a mountain of beautifully wrapped gift bags that Asher had prepared for me in advance. It suddenly clicked. Asher didn’t show up because this was a test. Billionaires love doing this kind of thing. He wanted to observe me from the shadows to see if I was emotionally stable, if I had good manners, and if I possessed a genuinely loving heart. Normally, I possess none of those things. But remembering the sheer size of Asher’s bank account, I was suddenly overflowing with the noblest virtues known to mankind. If this was a test, I was going to pass it with flying colors. So, when I gathered my things to leave, I absolutely refused to leave the snake behind. Steeling my nerves, I scooped the little guy up, tucked him against my chest, and carried him all the way home. You can do this, Sophie. You are going to secure the bag. 2 The little snake probably wasn’t used to human body heat. Tucked against my chest, he got totally dizzy and looked a bit out of it. I scrambled to find a clean cardboard box and gently placed him inside. He finally snapped out of his daze, but for some reason, he looked completely crestfallen. Just totally lethargic. I couldn’t let his beloved pet die on my watch. I immediately went online, hunted down the contact info for a premium exotic pet store owner, and paid an absolute premium to have a luxury, temperature-controlled terrarium delivered and set up in my apartment that very night. I carefully placed the little snake inside. Looking at him, a funny thought crossed my mind. He looked exactly like a billionaire CEO waking up in his thousand-square-foot California king bed. I snapped a picture and sent it to my MIA boyfriend. Still no response. Considering he had already spent roughly half a million dollars on me over the course of our relationship, I decided to be patient. I went to take a shower. Squeaky clean and wrapped only in a fluffy towel, I walked over to check on the snake. The moment he saw my bare shoulders and legs, he frantically turned his little head away, visibly flustered. Oh my. What a perfect gentleman of a reptile. Now, let me see if you are a boy or a girl. I had looked it up online, and the internet told me you could figure out a snake’s gender by checking the base of its tail. It felt a little intrusive. But curiosity got the better of me. Ignoring the snake’s frantic squirming, I gently but firmly held him down and inspected his underside. Wow. He was a male, and a surprisingly well-endowed one at that. I couldn’t help but let out a cheeky wolf whistle. The little snake struggled so hard his top hat popped off and his bowtie went crooked. He finally scrambled into the far corner of the tank, staring at me with a look of absolute, violated betrayal. I cooed at him, offered a few words of comfort, and happily went to bed. 3 Of course, I didn’t actually go to sleep. You have to stay up late to truly appreciate the value of your free time. Around two in the morning, my phone finally buzzed with a message from Asher. “Baby, I honestly never expected you to be so passionate and bold.” I knew it. My brilliant performance at the restaurant paid off. I happily texted back, “Do you like it?” The chat went completely silent. I started overthinking. Did he see how much food I inhaled? Was he judging me? “Did you think I ate too much?” I typed the words out, then quickly deleted them. Never incriminate yourself. Make him bring it up first. If he mentioned it, I would just lie and say I starved myself for three days so I could fit into my prettiest dress for our date. But then Asher’s reply finally came through. “I love it.” “So… are you satisfied?” Of course I was satisfied. Asher had showered me with designer jewelry, luxury bags, and endless attention. I was living the absolute dream. I thought exactly that, so I said exactly that. Asher sent back a blushing emoji. Then he typed, “Baby, you are so honest. I love you so much. I promise I will make you the happiest woman in the world.” Right on cue, a notification popped up. A five-thousand-dollar transfer with the note “Voluntary Gift.” Just another casual day making five grand from my couch. I punched the air under my blankets, absolutely thrilled. This was amazing. The money I had saved up from him was already enough to buy a Porsche Cayenne and put a down payment on a luxury penthouse. Asher sent another photo of the snake. “He made it home.” In the picture, the little snake was wearing his hat and bowtie, coiled up perfectly on a velvet cushion. The background was Asher’s staggering, modern glass mansion. Wait a minute. The snake was just here. I threw off the covers and ran to the living room. The terrarium was empty. The little escape artist had actually broken out. He snuck out and managed to navigate his way back to a billionaire’s mansion all by himself? What an absolute genius of a pet. I happily texted Asher back. “Baby, this photo is stunning!” “Out of all the pictures you’ve ever sent me, this is the most handsome he has ever looked!” Asher was delighted. “I always trust my baby’s taste.” A second later, that exact photo became Asher’s profile picture. He even sent me a second cash transfer for the night. Alright, up to ten grand for the day. I happily accepted the money and typed, “I can’t wait for our next date!” After all, one date with this man earned me more than half a year’s salary. 4 After days of relentless begging on my end. Asher finally agreed to a second date. I went all out. I wore my most elegant, figure-hugging dress. Colored contacts, expensive false lashes, flawless contouring. I showed up to the cafe looking like a supermodel. But sitting at our reserved table, all I found was his pet snake. His outfit was even more elaborate this time. The little guy was wearing a custom-tailored miniature suit jacket and balancing a tiny pair of gold-rimmed glasses on his snout. Was he cosplaying as a bespectacled intellectual? No, wait. That wasn’t the point. Where the hell was Asher? I finally realized something was deeply wrong. Was he really standing me up again? Just as the frustration began to boil over, I felt a soft pressure against my palm. I looked down and saw the very tip of the snake’s tail. Tied neatly around the tail was a beautiful little ribbon, tied into a perfect bow. He looked exactly like a meticulously wrapped gift, impossible to reject. The little snake looked up at me with eyes full of pure, unadulterated sincerity. The moment I smiled, the entire snake slithered happily into my open hands. Oh, you sweet little thing. I finally understood. Asher wasn’t just looking for a girlfriend. He was looking for a stepmother for his precious pet. I had a great personality, and I had proven my high tolerance for reptiles, so Asher chose me. He didn’t show up because he wanted the snake to personally vet me. He was letting his pet choose his new mom. Asher really loved this animal. Well, if my job was to pamper the snake, I was going to be the best snake mom in the world. I dutifully straightened his tiny suit jacket, then carried him around the city. We walked through the botanical gardens and even caught a movie. I wanted to make conversation, but then I realized Asher had never actually told me the snake’s name. Without a name, I decided to just call him “Baby.” “Baby, do you like this park?” The little snake nodded. “Baby, do you want to go look at the pond?” He nodded again, perfectly obedient. “Baby, do you want to come home with me?” The snake hesitated. But the hesitation lasted exactly three seconds before he started nodding so hard his glasses nearly flew off. Winning over the pet was basically winning over the billionaire. I was floating on cloud nine. I leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of his scaly head. The little snake blushed a deep crimson and buried his face into my chest, making soft, happy little squeaks. Honestly, putting Asher’s massive bank account aside for a moment. This little snake was incredibly cute, surprisingly handsome, wildly intelligent, and never tried to bite me. Spending the rest of my life taking care of him with Asher didn’t sound like a bad deal at all. 5 The snake rested perfectly still in my arms as I carried him back to my apartment. My phone remained completely silent. Asher was probably tied up with corporate billionaire stuff. So, I sat on the couch with the snake and watched sports highlights until late. When it was over, I tucked him back into his luxury terrarium. Middle of the night. I was deep in sleep when a soft rustling sound near my ear woke me up. I groggily opened my eyes. The little snake had somehow crawled under my duvet and was sleeping soundly, curled up right against my chest with a look of absolute bliss. I gently poked him. His tail tip wrapped securely around my finger, like a child begging for affection. But as a responsible pet owner, I had to be safe. I grabbed my phone and searched online. “Is it safe to sleep in the same bed as a pet snake?” The internet firmly replied, “Absolutely never sleep in the same bed as a snake.” I had to ignore his pleading, watery eyes. I picked him up by the middle and carried him back to the glass tank. He tried to wrap himself around my wrist, refusing to let go, but I gently detached him. “Good babies have to learn how to sleep in their own beds.” The little snake shivered, slithering into the furthest corner of the tank, coiling his body tightly and hiding his head. I turned to walk back to bed. But then I heard a faint, pathetic sniffling sound. I turned on the lamp and looked closer. The little snake was literally crying tiny, glassy tears. But even with the tears, he had to sleep alone. I was a chaotic sleeper. If I rolled over and squashed the billionaire’s beloved pet, my dreams of luxury real estate would die with him. I couldn’t just walk away while he was sad, though. I leaned over the tank, kissing his head and whispering sweet nothings. “You are the best baby in the world. I know you can be brave and sleep by yourself.” His little scaly body trembled slightly, but he finally uncoiled and settled into his warm hideout box. I could finally go to sleep. 6 When I woke up, my phone screen was flooded with 99+ notifications and dozens of missed calls. All from Asher, spanning from four in the morning until just a few minutes ago. “Baby, I know I was moving too fast, but please don’t hate me.” “I am so sorry.” “Baby, why aren’t you answering?” “Are you mad at me?” … “Baby, please just reply to me. Please.” Scattered between the frantic texts were multiple massive cash transfers. I really do sleep like a rock. Asher probably felt incredibly guilty for standing me up again and was having a meltdown apologizing. Luckily, I am the most understanding girlfriend in the world. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I typed back. “I’m not mad. I just fell asleep.” The man on the other end instantly calmed down. “Thank god.” I happily clicked ‘Accept’ on all the cash transfers. Asher sent another message. “Baby, do you think a snake’s body temperature is too cold?” What kind of random trivia question was that? Snakes are cold-blooded animals. Obviously, they are cold. I replied, “It’s fine. Not a big deal.” Asher asked, “Can you truly accept that?” Me, “Absolutely.” I rolled out of bed, stretching, planning to go play with the little guy. I looked in the tank. He had broken out again. Oh, my god. My golden goose was gone. I tried to console myself. Maybe he just slithered back to his mansion again? I hesitantly texted Asher. “Baby, how come you haven’t sent me a picture of him today?” The chat went dead silent for a long time. I was doomed. What if he got caught by a stray cat? What if someone turned him into snake soup? Just as I felt the sky crashing down around me, Asher sent a new photo. In the picture, the snake was wearing a pristine, custom-tailored tuxedo, perched elegantly on the keys of a grand Steinway piano. He looked incredibly proud and aristocratic. Asher wrote, “I was just getting him cleaned up.” I glanced at the timestamp. It took him thirty minutes to reply. He must have scrubbed that snake down with a toothbrush. But at least he was safe. I let out a massive sigh of relief and went back to my professional hype-woman duties. “He looks so handsome!” The snake was definitely cute, but I was dying to know what Asher actually looked like. My curiosity was peaking. But when I brought up scheduling a third date, Asher hit me with bad news. “Some urgent corporate matters came up in Europe. I have to fly out to handle them personally.” “Baby, can you wait for me for one more month?” 7 I waited an entire month. Finally, Asher texted me. “Baby, I am flying back into the country today.” I waited all day. I practically sat by the door. When the knock finally came, I threw the door open, ecstatic, thinking I was finally going to see the man of my dreams. The hallway was completely empty. My heart dropped. I slowly closed the door. A second later, another knock. I swung the door open, annoyed, ready to curse out whatever neighborhood kid was playing a prank on me. But then I heard a familiar hiss near my feet. I looked down. It was Asher’s pet. His outfit was incredibly flamboyant today. He was wedged into a sharp, deep-purple blazer, and he was even wearing a subtle, expensive-smelling cologne. The whole vibe was ridiculously charming. I held out my hand. The snake happily slithered up my arm, coiling around my wrist. Well, the man didn’t show up, but at least he sent his pet as a consolation prize. I sat on the couch, playing with the little snake, tracing the scales on his back. But despite his cute company, a heavy wave of disappointment washed over me. Eventually, the exhaustion caught up, and I drifted to sleep right there in the living room. I vaguely felt something cool and smooth curl against my chest. I was too tired to care. I just let the sleep take me.

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The first thing the doctor said when he walked out of the delivery room was a warning. “This child has the XYY syndrome. The ‘super male’ gene. There is a high risk of aggressive and violent tendencies. You need to keep a very close eye on him.” From that day on, I was handed off to a nanny. I became the ticking time bomb of the family. A potential criminal living under their roof. If my older brother tripped, if a vase shattered in the hallway, even if a stray animal was found dead on the street corner, I was the first and only suspect. My mother would always look at me with cold eyes and say, “Genetics don’t lie. We have to guard against you.” So, my bedroom was rigged with security cameras. To prevent me from “hurting” anyone, my parents forbade me from playing with kids my own age. This lasted until the night of my brother’s acceptance party. He had just gotten into an Ivy League university. Relatives filled the house, raising their glasses in celebration. And I accidentally dropped a porcelain soup bowl. My father exploded. He grabbed me by the collar and dragged me toward the balcony. “I have put up with you for eighteen years! On the best day of your brother’s life, you just had to cause a scene, didn’t you?” “If your genes dictate that you’re a monster…” He threw the balcony windows open, pointing out at the dizzying drop from the sixteenth floor. “Then I should just drop you right now! End it before you actually murder someone and ruin this family forever!” The freezing night wind howled through the open window. I looked down at the tiny, ant-like cars on the street below, and suddenly, everything made sense. My original sin wasn’t my genetics. It was being born into this family. 1 My father’s laughter had been the loudest all night, his cheeks flushed from the expensive wine. He had his arm wrapped tightly around my brother’s shoulders, his face glowing with absolute pride. “Double the blessings for our family today!” “Connor got into a top-tier university. He’s going to do incredible things!” “Ross, you really know how to raise a genius.” I was sitting in the darkest corner of the dining room. In front of me was a bowl of plain white rice and a few wilted greens. The sound of the soup bowl shattering against the rug wasn’t actually that loud. Just like every other sound I had made in this house over the past eighteen years, it was quiet enough to be ignored. But because the sound came from me, to my father, it was a deafening crack of thunder. Instantly, all the chatter in the room died. My father turned his head. His gaze shifted from Connor to me. In a fraction of a second, the warmth in his eyes froze into solid ice. “Riley, you did that on purpose, didn’t you?” His voice was terrifyingly calm. Before I could blink, his fist was twisted in the collar of my shirt. The fabric dug into my throat, choking me. He dragged me across the living room. One of my slippers fell off, abandoned on the carpet. He kicked the balcony doors open. The glass reflected my ghostly pale face. The wind at this altitude was like a barrage of icy knives. He shoved me hard against the metal railing. Half of my body was pushed out over the sickening drop. The people and cars below were nothing but black specks in the abyss. My father roared directly into my ear. “You’re always wearing that miserable look on your face! Always trying to drag this family down!” “I have tolerated you for eighteen years! We installed cameras for eighteen years! We lived in fear for eighteen years! Do you know how exhausting that is?!” “And today, of all days, you have to curse your brother’s success?” “If you’re destined to be a murderer, if you’re going to kill me, or your mother, or your brother one day, then maybe you should just fall right now!” “Dad, stop!” Connor rushed onto the balcony, desperately grabbing our father’s arm. “Let go of her! You’re going to drop her!” “Let him fall!” My mother’s voice pierced through the wind. I painfully turned my head. She was standing at the edge of the balcony, gripping the doorframe, her face completely drained of color. “Let him drop.” Connor froze, staring at her in horror. “Mom?!” “I said let him drop!” She suddenly began to scream hysterically. “I am so sick of this! I can’t take it anymore!” She ran toward us, but not to pull me back. She grabbed my father’s arm and tried to push my weight further over the edge. “Riley, I am begging you,” she sobbed, her hands shoving against my chest. “Just let go. If you fall, we can all finally be free…” 2 “You always say there’s no point in living! You always say we don’t love you!” “Fine, I admit it! I don’t love you!” “I have hated you since the second you were born! I hate that you’re a monster! I hate that you couldn’t just be a normal child!” Her manicured nails dug deep into the flesh of my arm. It stung. But it was nothing compared to the agony ripping through my chest. I looked at them. I looked at my father’s bloodshot eyes, my mother’s tear-streaked face, and Connor desperately trying to pull them away. I looked back down at the tiny ants crawling in the street far below. Suddenly, I wasn’t afraid anymore. Instead of tensing my muscles to fight gravity, I went entirely limp, leaning into the force of my father’s hands. My entire dead weight shifted outward. My father stumbled. I slipped over the railing, my body suspended over nothing but thin air. If he let go right now, I would plummet sixteen stories and splatter against the pavement. But I didn’t care anymore. I closed my eyes and accepted my fate. Seeing me surrender, the disgust on my parents’ faces instantly morphed into raw panic. My father used every ounce of strength in his body to haul me backward. The veins in his neck bulged, his face turning a deep, suffocated purple. The death I was waiting for never came. I collapsed onto the cold tiles of the balcony. The second I opened my eyes, a heavy slap cracked across my face. “You little psychopath! You want to ruin my life and turn me into a murderer?!” “If you want to die, go do it somewhere nobody has to look at you! Stop begging for attention!” “Your mother and I are good, honest people. How did we ever produce a vicious mutation like you?” “Get back to your room! Don’t you dare step one inch out of the camera’s view!” My mother’s face hovered over me, her eyes filled with nothing but resentment and disgust. I didn’t dare fight back. I quietly picked myself up and walked to my room. The red light of the security camera blinked from the corner, a cold mechanical eye ensuring I had nowhere to hide. Like I always did, I crawled into the bottom of my wardrobe, the only place I felt safe. I wrapped my arms tightly around my knees and curled into a ball. The house eventually went quiet. I cried until I drifted into a heavy, exhausted sleep. I didn’t know how much time had passed when a thick, unnatural heat woke me up. Smoke was silently filling the enclosed space. By the time I pushed the wardrobe doors open, black smog had completely swallowed my room. The house was on fire. The heat was unbearable. Blazing tongues of fire danced just outside my door, devouring everything in their path. I panicked and ran for the window. I could climb down the fire escape. But right as I reached the glass, a thought hit me. Connor’s university acceptance letter was still in the living room. If it burned to ashes, my parents would be furious… I just wanted to prove to them that I wasn’t a bad person. I wasn’t born evil. Taking a deep breath, I turned back around and threw myself into the burning hallway. I found the heavy envelope, but the fire had grown too wild. The ceiling collapsed, blocking my way out. The flames licked at my cheeks. The sickening smell of burning hair filled my nose. With nowhere left to run, I dragged myself back into my bedroom and threw myself into the wardrobe, clutching Connor’s acceptance letter tightly to my chest. I prayed someone would see the smoke and put out the fire. But with every breath, my throat felt like it was being sliced open by razor blades. My lungs were being crushed. My vision blurred into a dark, hazy tunnel. Right before I completely lost consciousness, one final thought drifted through my mind. If there is a next life, I don’t want to be their child anymore. And I don’t want these cursed genes. The next second, my body felt incredibly light. I floated up through the flames, leaving the burning house behind, and materialized right beside my parents. 3 They were sitting in the VIP lounge of a luxury hotel. Everyone was gathered around Connor, laughing and drinking. Amidst the clinking glasses, an uncle spoke up. “Ross, hasn’t Connor’s acceptance letter arrived yet? You said you were going to show it off to everyone tonight. Did you forget?” My father smiled and nodded. “It should be arriving today.” “Let me call the courier and have him deliver it straight to the hotel. Everyone can get a good look and share in the good luck!” He put the call on speaker. The courier sounded confused. “Your package was signed for hours ago, sir.” “Let me check the system. The signature says Riley. Did your kid not tell you?” My father ended the call and slammed his phone down on the glass table. “That ungrateful little freak! He must have been so jealous of his brother that he hid the letter just to spite us!” “Leaving a deranged criminal alone in the house was a mistake. Who knows what kind of sick things he’s doing right now!” “Come on, we’re going back to check.” Hearing his words, I desperately wanted to open my mouth and defend myself. But eighteen years of conditioning kept me entirely silent. The truth was, I dropped the soup bowl earlier because my hands were shaking with nerves. The moment I signed for the package, I planned exactly how I was going to give it to Connor. I wanted to hand it to him myself. I wanted to tell him congratulations, from the bottom of my heart. I wanted to show them that I hadn’t ruined anything. I had protected his most important document. I, Riley, was never a natural-born criminal. I was never an evil seed. When my parents and relatives rushed back to our street, the front door was wide open. Inside was nothing but a charred, blackened shell of a home. The firefighters had just put out the last of the flames and were investigating the source. The moment my father saw the wreckage, he kicked the scorched wall in absolute fury. “I knew it! Nothing good ever happens when that psychopath is around!” “Just to destroy his brother’s letter, he burned our entire house to the ground!” “What kind of unforgivable sin did I commit in my past life to spawn something so purely evil?!” The relatives whispered among themselves, looking at the devastation in shock. “This… this was such a nice house. How did it burn down so fast?” My mother crossed her arms, her voice dripping with cold mockery. “What else could it be? Riley obviously set the fire on purpose.” “He’s been doing sick things like this since he was a kid.” “We underestimated him. He’s rotten to his very core. He actually tried to burn the house down!” The atmosphere grew heavy. Connor stepped forward, looking nervously at the blackened doorway. “Mom, Dad… the fire was massive. Do you think Riley is hurt?” My father let out a harsh sneer. “If he was hurt, the firefighters would have found him by now. Besides, we left the door unlocked when we left.” “Do you think a cockroach like him would just stand there and let himself burn?” “He knew he went too far this time, so he ran away like a coward.” Listening to them, I shook my head in the empty air. Mom, Dad, Connor… I’m right here in the ashes. I didn’t burn anything. I’m not a monster. My mother’s face grew darker with every passing second. “Well, the house is unlivable anyway. The university can issue a replacement letter.” “Connor, I’ll transfer some money right now. We’ll buy tickets to Hawaii. The three of us will go on a vacation for a week while this gets sorted out.” “Let the police handle the house. Since Riley wants to play the villain, I’m pressing charges. I want him locked up for arson!” “He belongs in a prison cell before he hurts someone else!” I watched in silence as they bid farewell to our relatives, packed whatever survived, and boarded a flight to Hawaii. It felt like a blunt knife was slowly carving my heart out of my chest. But what they didn’t expect was that the moment their plane landed, my father’s phone rang. It was the local police department. “Mr. Ross, we arrived at your residence following a report of the fire.” “We recovered a body from the premises. We cannot confirm the identity yet, but we need you to return immediately to identify the remains.” 4 My father’s knuckles turned stark white as his grip tightened on the phone. Noticing the blood drain from his face, my mother rushed over, asking what was wrong. The officer’s voice continued through the speaker. “The deceased is a female, estimated to be between sixteen and eighteen years of age.” Hearing that, my father let out a massive sigh of relief. “Officer, you had me worried. My wife and I only have two sons. We don’t have a daughter. The body doesn’t belong to our family. You’ll need to keep investigating.” “Who knows, maybe that psycho Riley kidnapped some poor girl and did something unspeakable to her before he ran.” He hung up the phone. For the next week, they took Connor to every beautiful beach and resort on the island. It wasn’t until a full seven days later that the family of three finally returned to the city. The moment they unlocked their temporary apartment, the police were waiting for them. “Ross and Martha, there are a few glaring discrepancies in this case. We need you to come to the station and cooperate with the investigation.” My parents exchanged a confused look, dropped their luggage, and followed the officers, bringing Connor along. In the freezing morgue, the white sheet was pulled back. The body was burned beyond recognition. Seeing the charred remains, my parents and Connor physically recoiled, looking deeply uncomfortable. The detective watched their reaction and spoke softly. “We checked the hallway security cameras. When the fire started, she had already escaped. But for some reason, she turned around and climbed back through the window into the burning apartment.” “When we found her, she was clutching a university acceptance letter to her chest, shielding it from the flames.” My father immediately interjected, “That sick freak Riley must have tricked this poor girl! He essentially murdered her!” My mother’s face twisted in anger. “Have you still not caught Riley yet?” The detective frowned, looking at them in absolute bewilderment. “The deceased is Riley. We ran a DNA test. The genetic match to the two of you is 99.99%.” “We called you down here to identify the body, but also to ask a very important question. Why was Riley a biological female, but registered on all her legal documents as a male?” 5 In that exact moment, every drop of blood vanished from my mother’s face. Her jaw parted as if she wanted to speak, but not a single sound came out. My father’s expression cracked, piece by piece, like shattering glass. “Impossible!” He heard his own voice echo in the sterile room. It sounded like a stranger. “The doctor told me himself! The child had the XYY syndrome! The super-male gene! A high risk of violent tendencies!” “Only males can have the XYY gene! That’s why we knew Riley was a boy!” The detective looked at them with profound pity. He didn’t say anything for a long time. Finally, he spoke. “Ross, Martha… we verified the hospital records from eighteen years ago.” They slowly raised their heads. “The doctor’s diagnosis wasn’t wrong. There was a child with the XYY gene.” The detective paused. “But you must have misremembered, or you were too panicked to listen carefully.” “The doctor was talking about your oldest son. He is the one with the XYY gene.” The air in the room completely solidified. My parents slowly, mechanically, turned their heads to look at Connor. Connor stood completely paralyzed, his eyes wide with shock, his face as pale as a ghost. Suddenly, my father lunged forward and snatched the autopsy report from the detective’s hands. His eyes drilled into the black ink. Relationship: Direct biological parent-child probability 99.99% Then, his eyes dropped to the next line. Biological Sex: Female He stared at that single word for an eternity. My mother couldn’t take the silence anymore. She snatched the paper from his trembling hands and looked down. She began to shake her head violently, her perfectly styled hair falling into a messy tangle around her face. “No… no! Riley is a boy! He’s my son!” But she couldn’t finish the sentence. Her voice cracked and died in her throat. The detective gently placed an evidence bag on the metal table. “This was the only item we recovered fully intact from the scene.” “It was lucky she kept it inside a metal tin. The contents survived the heat.” He placed a rusted, scorched cookie tin in front of them. My mother stared at it. Her trembling hands reached out and pried the lid open. Inside rested a small, palm-sized notebook. The light blue cover was stained with soot and the edges were curled from the heat. But the pages inside were perfectly preserved. The handwriting was clear. Starting from the day I learned how to write, my childish, clumsy words filled the pages, tracking my life up until the very end. [What does it mean to be a bad seed? What is a natural-born criminal? Why do Mom and Dad always call me that… Am I really different from the other kids?] [Today is my birthday. I saw other kids get special noodles on their birthdays. I wanted to make some for myself, but I made a mess in the kitchen. Dad came home and beat me. He said I was maliciously trying to ruin his day. But I wasn’t. I just wanted birthday noodles, Dad.] [Connor got the highest grade in his class, so Dad was really happy and took us to McDonald’s. I didn’t do anything, but Dad heard another kid in the restaurant lost a toy. He forced me to get on my knees and apologize. But I didn’t steal it! Why won’t Dad believe me?!] [I bled so much today. I thought I was dying. People say only bad guys get punished. Am I really a monster? Is God punishing me?] [The school nurse saw the blood on my pants and gave me a pad. She said it’s not a punishment. It’s a period. She said I’m a girl! I’m not a monster!] [I finally got the courage to tell Mom. But Mom said I was a pathological liar. She said: “Have you no shame? You would make up a lie like this just to make us like you? You are a boy, the doctor said so! You’re just a late bloomer, stop making sick excuses!”] Reading that line, my mother clamped her hands over her mouth, letting out a suffocated, agonizing wail.

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For the past year, I had been the easiest finance manager this company had ever seen. I never made anyone jump through hoops for their expense reimbursements. But right after I signed off on the paperwork for our new intern, Mindy, she flashed me a sickeningly sweet smile. “Tell me, Melissa, are you this generous when signing off on your own expenses?” Seeing my expression darken, she dramatically covered her mouth and gasped. “Oh, my gosh, I am so sorry! I just lack a filter sometimes.” “I am definitely not saying you are secretly embezzling company funds. I just noticed you are carrying another brand new designer bag, and I got a little curious.” The surrounding cubicles fell dead silent. Whispers began to ripple through the office. Given her age and inexperience, I decided to let it slide. I never expected that the very next morning, the HR department would issue a company-wide email accusing me of compliance violations and completely stripping my quarterly bonus. I marched straight into the HR manager’s office to demand an explanation, but Davis just sighed and told me to swallow my pride. “Mindy is the young boss’s girlfriend.” “Right before Jay left for his business trip to South Africa, he explicitly told us to make sure nobody steps on her toes. Just let it go, Melissa.” I stood there, absolutely stunned. The young boss? His girlfriend? Well played, Jay. You have really grown some spine while I wasn’t looking. Just wait until I tell your mother about this. You are so incredibly dead. Stepping out of the manager’s office, my first instinct was to call Jay. Unsurprisingly, the cell reception out in the remote South African mining district was absolute garbage. The call went straight to a dead tone. I aggressively typed out a single text. [You have a girlfriend?] Silence. The message vanished into the void. My face was a mask of cold indifference as I walked back to my desk. The moment I sat down, the hushed gossip of my coworkers drifted over. “No wonder she is always so lenient with our reimbursements. She is just using it to cover up her own massive theft.” “Exactly. Look at the stuff she uses every day. It is all high-end luxury.” “On her salary? Nobody buys the idea that her hands are clean.” “She always plays the nice, accommodating coworker. Who knew she was so rotten behind the scenes?” Listening to their venom, a hot spike of anger flared in my chest. Whenever these people needed me to expedite their sketchy receipts, they practically kissed the ground I walked on. Now, they were the first ones to plunge a knife into my back. I shot a freezing glare across the room. The gossiping colleagues panicked and immediately glued their eyes to their monitors. I did not say a word. I just coldly booted up my computer to process the morning reports. A moment later, Mindy strolled over to my cubicle, holding a fresh iced latte and wearing a beaming, triumphant smile. She pressed her palms together pleadingly and stuck her tongue out in a playful, innocent gesture. “I am so sorry, Melissa. Did I make things difficult for you this morning?” “You know me, I am just a little too brutally honest sometimes.” “I know you have a good heart, but we really cannot be breaking corporate policy with company money, right?” Reaping the benefits and still playing the victim? Did she really think I was some soft target she could walk all over? I let out a dry, mocking laugh and leaned back in my ergonomic chair. “And exactly how did I violate corporate policy?” “Just because you opened your mouth and decided I did?” Mindy froze for a second. Her gaze deliberately drifted to the handbag resting on my filing cabinet, her tone dripping with implication. “Now, do not get defensive, Melissa.” “That bag is Louis Vuitton, right? Even if it is last season’s style, that is easily three or four grand.” She intentionally raised her voice, ensuring every single person in the department could hear her. “I have been eyeing that exact one, but I just cannot bring myself to spend that kind of money. Not like you, of course. You just casually sling it over your shoulder.” “I am just so… envious.” She dragged out the last word, the insinuation heavy and obvious. Hearing this, the stares from my coworkers grew even more condescending. An out-of-season designer bag was her grand evidence of my corruption? I refused to indulge her delusions. I tossed my pen onto the desk and locked eyes with her. “It is my own money. I will buy whatever the hell I want.” “Besides, you are an intern making minimum wage. Even if you wanted to spend the money, you do not have it.” “If you cannot afford the lifestyle, stop staring at people who can. What exactly are you so bitter about?” Mindy clearly did not expect me to bite back so viciously. Her perfectly contoured face turned a violent shade of red. She gritted her teeth, and as if on command, the tears welled up in her eyes. “Melissa, I… I did not mean it like that…” She buried her face in her hands and sprinted off, her theatrical sobs echoing down the corridor. “Melissa, the poor girl was just making an observation. Did you really need to go off on her like that?” A coworker in the adjacent cubicle shot me a judgmental glare, acting as if I was the one bullying a defenseless child. The entire situation left a sour, suffocating feeling in my chest. If it were not for that idiot Jay, would I really be sitting here taking this garbage? My Aunt Victoria had been terrified that Jay was too young and reckless to manage the family enterprise. She practically begged me, his older cousin, to come in undercover and keep an eye on him for two years. Once he matured, she would feel comfortable handing the reins over to him completely. I figured it would be good practice before taking over my own parents’ corporate empire, so I agreed. Naturally, Jay was kept completely in the dark about my true identity here. To the high and mighty young boss, I was just a nameless cog in the finance department. This situation was right on the edge. Was it worth dragging my aunt into this mess? While I was debating my next move, Brenda, a senior accountant who sat nearby, knocked on my partition. She looked anxious. “Melissa, Manager Davis wants to see you in his office.” I pushed open the heavy glass door. Mindy was curled up on the leather sofa, sobbing relentlessly. Her eyes were puffy and red like irritated walnuts. Davis was sitting right beside her, offering gentle words of comfort. The second he saw me step inside, the sympathetic warmth on his face evaporated. He glared at me with absolute fury, looking like he wanted to swallow me whole. “Melissa! You finally decided to show up?” “You are a senior employee, yet you publicly humiliate a new intern?” I raised an eyebrow, casting a dismissive glance at Mindy, who was still whimpering into a tissue. “Oh? How exactly did I humiliate her?” “I simply stated a financial fact. She genuinely cannot afford it.” “You…” Davis choked on his words, completely stumped by my bluntness. Seeing him falter, Mindy forced her crying to stop, letting out a series of pathetic, calculated hiccups. “Mr. Davis, please do not blame Melissa. This is all my fault. I just talk too much…” “I just wanted to kindly remind her to be more careful with her expense reports so she would not make any more mistakes.” “I never expected she would react so aggressively…” “What mistakes?” I cut straight through her nauseating, manipulative performance. “Mindy, since we are sitting right in front of the manager, why don’t you clearly explain exactly what is wrong with my work?” “Enough! Keep your mouth shut!” Davis waved his hand dismissively, his patience clearly exhausted. He had bought Mindy’s narrative hook, line, and sinker. “I already know exactly what you have been doing behind my back!” “Do not think for a second that your little ‘nice girl’ routine fooled me, Melissa. I know about your dirty little side hustle.” “Over the past year, how much company money have you funneled into your own pockets by manipulating the reimbursement system? Do you even know?” “I thought you were just a pushover, signing off on bad receipts out of pity, so I turned a blind eye. I never imagined you had the audacity to pocket the funds yourself!” I almost burst out laughing. Could this guy be any more of a hypocrite? Did he really think I did not know the real reason he was targeting me? Just two months ago, I rejected his personal expense report, and he had been holding a grudge ever since. The man tried to expense a client dinner where he ordered three imported lobsters and two king crabs. I was surprised he did not eat himself into a coma. “So, what is your grand plan for dealing with me?” I crossed my arms, looking at him with absolute boredom. Davis let out a cold sneer, clearly mistaking my calmness for fear. “It is very simple. I will not make this harder than it needs to be.” “You will return every single cent you stole from this company. I want it paid back in full.” “Then, you will write a three-thousand-word apology letter, post it in the company-wide chat, and publicly beg for forgiveness.” “Do that, and we can sweep this under the rug.” Pay him back? An apology letter? I physically could not hold it in anymore. I laughed out loud. “Davis, is there something clinically wrong with your brain?” “If this was a legitimate work issue, I would cooperate. But you want me to play along just so the young boss can impress his little girlfriend?” “Do not forget, Jay does not own this entire company yet.” This corporation was built from the ground up by Jay’s mother. My Aunt Victoria was still the majority shareholder. She was merely testing the waters to see if her son was ready for power. Hearing my words, Mindy’s face drained of color. She blurted out, “This company will belong to Jay sooner or later! What are you so arrogant about!” The moment the words left her mouth, she realized she had slipped up. She quickly clamped a hand over her lips. I rolled my eyes, turned on my heel, and walked out. “Melissa, stop right there!” “What kind of attitude is that?!” Davis roared at my back. I paused, glancing over my shoulder with a sharp smile. “I have never taken a single dime from this company, and I will absolutely not write a single word of apology.” With that, I slammed the glass door shut behind me. After dealing with that circus, the anger simmering in my chest was reaching a boiling point. The only reason I had not called my aunt yet was out of mercy for Jay. He might be an idiot, but he was still family. And while Aunt Victoria only had one son, she had enough money and time to easily find another heir if he proved totally useless. Looking at my phone and seeing zero new messages, I could not resist sending Jay a venomous text. [Does your mother know you are treating her company like your personal playground?] Still no reply. Absolutely pathetic. A total slave to his hormones. When I got home that evening, my parents immediately noticed my dark mood. They hovered around me, brimming with concern. “Sweetheart, are you burning out? Are you feeling sick?” my dad asked. “Why don’t you take a few days off and rest?” I kept the truth to myself, mostly because I knew how my mother would react. My mom adored me more than anything in the world. And my Aunt Victoria, despite being a ruthless CEO, was absolutely terrified of her older sister. If my mom found out about this and accidentally let it slip to Victoria, Jay would likely be beaten within an inch of his life. The next morning, the moment I stepped into the office lobby, the atmosphere felt incredibly toxic. Everyone was staring at me with a bizarre, morbid curiosity. I was confused, but the elevator arrived, so I brushed it off. Inside the elevator, I ran into Brenda from the sales department. Brenda and I had always been on great terms. She was a single mother struggling to raise three kids, so whenever she submitted her expenses, as long as they were within company bounds, I approved them instantly to get her the cash faster. I even passed my corporate holiday bonuses and gift baskets directly to her. There were times when she had to work late, and I drove across town to pick her kids up from daycare. “Melissa, you were way too reckless yesterday,” Brenda said, letting out a heavy sigh. “Davis was absolutely raging after you left.” “Honestly, what were you thinking? Everyone knows Mindy is Jay’s girl. Why would you go to war with her?” “Thank god the young boss is out of the country, otherwise…” I did not offer a real response, just giving a vague nod to be polite. Right at that moment, my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a notification from the corporate group chat. I glanced at the screen, and my blood ran cold. [Following an internal management review, it has been determined that Finance Manager Melissa has severely violated corporate reimbursement policies and exhibited egregious insubordination. Effective immediately, she is suspended without pay pending further investigation.] [Her duties will be assumed by Mindy.] Brenda had clearly read the notification on her own phone. She shot me a nervous glance, then leaned in close, lowering her voice. Her eyes were searching mine, heavy with suspicion. “Melissa, just between you and me… you didn’t actually skim off the top, did you?” I stared at Brenda, utterly blindsided. She was doubting me? After everything I had done for her, after treating her like a genuine friend, her first instinct was to assume I was a thief? Seeing the sudden, icy drop in my expression, Brenda seemed to realize she had crossed a line. She avoided my gaze and forced an awkward, hollow laugh. “Oh, come on, I am just messing around! Of course I believe you!” “I bet Davis and Mindy just teamed up to frame you!” I did not say another word. The last lingering trace of warmth in my heart completely froze over. I didn’t even look at her when I stepped out of the elevator. When I finally reached my cubicle, I realized it had already been occupied. All of my personal belongings—my framed photos, my favorite mug, my expensive stationary—had been carelessly tossed into a beat-up cardboard box like absolute garbage. Mindy was sitting in my ergonomic chair. Seeing me approach, she flashed a playful wink and a victor’s smile. “Oh, Melissa, I am so sorry. Mr. Davis practically forced me to take your desk. My hands were tied.” She casually twirled a silver USB drive between her manicured fingers, her tone dripping with entitlement. “Oh, by the way, Mr. Davis also said you need to hand over every single reimbursement voucher you have processed since you were hired.” “We need to run a complete forensic audit to figure out exactly how much money you stole from us.” “Let me give you a piece of advice, Melissa. If you do not want this to get ugly, and if you do not want the company to press criminal charges, you should really just wire the money back.” I took a deep, steadying breath, picked up my cardboard box, and turned around to leave. I was not going to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. Press criminal charges? She should probably call Jay in South Africa and ask him if he has the guts to press charges against his own cousin. After stashing my belongings in my trunk, my frustration was hitting a fever pitch. I walked back toward the breakroom, needing a black coffee to clear my head. Before I even pushed the door open, I heard Brenda’s voice mixing with a few other familiar coworkers. These were people I ate lunch with. People I thought I knew. “Man, do you think Melissa is actually going to jail for this?” “Probably. Honestly, you cross the future CEO’s girlfriend, you get what is coming to you.” “Serves her right! She always walked around here acting so superior, like she owned the place.” “Acting all sweet and generous… she just loved the power trip. She loved watching us beg her to approve our receipts.” Brenda’s voice cut through the chatter, thick with a sickening layer of schadenfreude. “Tell me about it. I have been sick of her for months.” “I used to think she was just sleeping with some rich old guy to afford all that jewelry and designer clothes.” “Now we know the truth. She is just a dirty thief.” When the wall falls, everyone rushes in to kick the bricks. I dropped my hand from the door handle. Every single person in that room had submitted questionable expenses at some point. Padding taxi receipts, booking more expensive hotels on work trips, claiming unapproved overtime. Which one of them hadn’t benefited from my willingness to fight management for their perks? And this was my reward. My heart felt like a stone dropping into a freezing ocean.

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1 Seven years. That was how long it took for Stockholm syndrome to hollow me out, leaving nothing but a ghost. The psychiatrists deemed me a lost cause. I spent my days guarding an abandoned warehouse, surviving on hallucinations and dust. The childhood sweetheart who once swore to save me had returned to the scene of the crime. He brought his new wife with him. I stayed curled up in a pile of rotting hay, my arms locked desperately around a bloodstained men’s jacket. He sneered. “What, still holding a vigil for that animal?” “You didn’t hesitate to stab me for that kidnapper back then. Why play the lunatic now?” Before his words could echo away, his heavy leather shoe came down on the back of my hand. I flinched from the sharp pain, lifting my clouded eyes to look at him. “You came back. Are you here to take me home?” The man gave a mocking laugh and pulled the woman beside him closer. “Take you home? Keep dreaming.” “Looks like you’ve stayed in this filthy place so long you can’t even understand human speech anymore.” I blinked at him blankly, then pointed a trembling finger at the tally marks scratched into the concrete wall. “Oh… well, could you keep your voices down, please?” “My husband is still sleeping. He has a bad temper.” With that, I turned away, reaching for a chipped porcelain bowl to catch the rainwater dripping from the rusted roof. A dull thud sounded right behind me. Declan crushed the cracked bowl under his heel. Dirty water splashed onto my faded hospital gown, dripping down my pant legs into the mud. I did not get angry. I did not even look up at him. I dropped to my knees. Ignoring the jagged porcelain slicing into my palms, I frantically scrubbed at the puddle with my frayed sleeves. “Can’t be dirty… Will likes it clean… It has to be clean…” I muttered the words in a feverish loop. The grime on the floor mixed with my own blood, staining my cuffs red and brown. But I did not dare to stop. Will told me that if strangers came, I had to scrub the floors. Otherwise, they would think our home was disgusting and burn it to the ground. A scoff drifted down from above. Vivian covered her nose delicately. “Look at her, Declan. Even completely out of her mind, she’s still cheap to the bone.” She adjusted her designer tweed jacket, stepping carefully to avoid the mud. “Wait… what is she hiding in that hay? Is that a man’s coat?” My hands froze. The blood in my veins turned to ice. I scrambled backward on my hands and knees, throwing my entire body over the black windbreaker buried deep in the straw. It was the very last thing Will left me. It still bore the blood from the day he died. “Don’t touch it! It’s mine! Don’t touch it!” A low, guttural growl tore from my throat. My eyes were wide, practically bulging from their sockets in sheer panic. Declan had been watching with cold indifference, but Vivian’s words drew his gaze to the edge of the fabric peeking out from beneath me. It was a cheap, worn-out piece of clothing, yet I was guarding it with my life. Declan’s expression darkened instantly. “Move.” His voice was quiet, dripping with absolute zero chill. I shook my head violently, curling into a tight ball, trying to shield the jacket with my spine. “Please… It’s Will’s…” “It’s the only thing he has left…” “Will?” Declan chewed on the name. A sudden, explosive violence shattered the ice in his eyes. He closed the distance in two strides, grabbing a fistful of my matted hair and yanking my head back. The tearing agony in my scalp forced hot, involuntary tears down my cheeks. “Bonnie, you really are pathetic.” “For a criminal who kidnapped you, a piece of trash who abused you, you’ve been playing the grieving widow in this dump for seven years?” “I said, move!” He violently shoved me aside. I flew backward, slamming hard against the unforgiving concrete wall. My organs felt like they had ruptured. Ignoring the blinding pain, I clawed at the dirt, desperately trying to crawl back. But Declan already had the jacket. He held it by two fingers, his face twisted in disgust. It smelled of Will, of damp mildew, and of old, rusted blood. “This is what your little lover left behind?” “What are you keeping it for? To sniff it?” Click. 2 The flame of a silver lighter danced at his fingertips. He was going to burn Will. The moment that thought registered, the fragile string that had held my sanity together for seven years snapped. “No!” I launched myself off the ground like a wild animal, throwing myself at Declan. I opened my mouth and sank my teeth deep into his wrist. I bit down with everything I had. The hot, metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth. Declan let out a hiss of pain. His hand jerked, and the jacket fell to the dirt. With his free hand, he backhanded me across the face. The crack echoed through the warehouse. He put his entire weight behind it. I was thrown several feet, the right side of my face instantly going numb. A high-pitched ringing took over my ears. My mouth filled with blood. I spat it out into the dirt, a loosened tooth tumbling out with the red foam. Declan stared at his wrist. The bite marks were deep enough to show bone. His eyes turned murderous. He stalked toward me, driving the hard toe of his leather shoe into my cheek, grinding my face into the concrete. My cheekbone popped under the pressure. “Feeling brave now, Bonnie?” “Where was this fight seven years ago when those bastards were passing you around? Why didn’t you bite them?” “I gave you everything. I handed you my fucking heart, and you shoved a knife into me for that piece of trash.” “And now you want to kill me over a filthy rag?” “You really are nothing but a rabid dog.” He pressed down harder. My jaw felt like it was going to shatter. Forced against the freezing floor, my line of sight fell directly on the discarded jacket. Thank God. It wasn’t burned. A sudden, warped smile stretched across my distorted face. Tears slipped from the corners of my eyes, sinking into the dust. “He… never… hit me.” Will never laid a hand on me. Even when the episodes took over and I bit him, he would just stroke my hair and slip a vintage butterscotch caramel into my palm. Those words completely obliterated whatever was left of Declan’s restraint. He yanked his foot back, laughing like he had just heard the funniest joke in the world. “Good. Fantastic.” “Since you love this dump so much, since you love that dead man so much.” He pulled out his phone and dialed. “Bring the bulldozers in.” “Right now. Level this entire place to the ground.” “I want absolutely nothing left!” The deafening roar of heavy machinery soon shook the ground outside. A massive iron bucket smashed into the fragile brick walls. Dust and debris rained down. Declan wrapped an arm around Vivian, pulling her back to a safe distance. He looked down at me from his pedestal. “If you love him so much, hold onto that garbage and get buried with him.” I did not beg for mercy. I simply crawled over to the jacket, pulling it against my chest, wrapping my arms around it as tight as I could. Just like Will had wrapped his arms around me in the fire seven years ago. I closed my eyes, burying my face in the mildewed collar. Don’t be afraid, Will. It’s my turn to protect you. The iron bucket never crushed me. Right before the ceiling collapsed, rough hands grabbed me by the arms and dragged me out. I thrashed wildly, my fingernails digging into the dirt until they tore and bled. “I won’t go! That’s my home! Will is still inside!” “Let me go! Please! He’s scared of the dark! He’ll be so scared all alone!” No one listened to my screams. Declan watched with dead eyes as they shoved me into the trunk of a car. The lid slammed shut. Absolute darkness consumed me. My body went into violent spasms. I curled into the tightest corner, hugging my knees, my teeth chattering uncontrollably. “Don’t kill me… I’ll be good… I’ll take my medicine…” “Will, save me…” When the car finally stopped, my clothes were soaked in cold sweat. The trunk opened. The glaring sunlight made me cower. A hand reached in and dragged me out by the collar. “We’re here. Take a good look.” Declan’s voice came from above. I squinted, my vision slowly coming into focus. It was a sprawling mansion. Wrought-iron gates, perfectly manicured lawns, and red wedding banners taped to the double doors. I froze. Seven years ago, I had clung to Declan’s arm, pointing at this exact plot of land. Declan, we’re going to build a house right here. We’ll get married. We’ll have kids. Now, the house was built. The wedding banners were up. But I was not the bride. Vivian linked her arm through Declan’s, smiling sweetly. “Bonnie, this is our new home. Isn’t it beautiful?” “Declan said the most dangerous place is the safest place.” “Keeping you right under our noses is the best way to look after you.” 3 Look after me? I stared at her, my mind a blank static screen. Declan said nothing. He took a heavy metal chain from one of the guards. A small silver bell hung from the links. “Since you’re here, you learn the rules.” Click. The metal cuff locked tightly around my ankle. The other end of the chain was bolted to a heavy marble pillar in the foyer. It gave me just enough slack to reach the edge of the living room, but not enough to step out the front door. “What is this?” I stared down at the chain. The little bell chimed sharply as I shifted my weight. “To keep you from wandering.” Declan crouched down, patting my bruised cheek. “You loved playing the lunatic in that warehouse, right?” “From now on, you live in this hallway. You can be our watchdog.” Staff bustled in and out, carrying Vivian’s endless designer luggage. They cast disgusted glances at me as they passed, their whispers loud enough to hear. “Is that the heiress of the Sterling family? She looks like a stray.” “I heard her brain is rotted. Fell in love with the freak who kidnapped her.” “Mr. Pierce is too kind, letting trash like that stay.” The words washed over me, leaving no ripples. Compared to the electroshock therapy at the asylum, at least there was no buzzing current here. I curled up on the edge of the Persian rug, clutching Will’s jacket. Vivian walked over holding a crystal glass of water. It was the same glass Declan had just drank from. “You must be thirsty, Bonnie. Have some water.” I stared at the clear liquid. My throat was burning, but I did not move. Will told me never to drink from strangers. He said they hide sleeping pills in the water, and if I drank it, I would be sold away. I swatted my hand out. The glass shattered. Water soaked the front of Vivian’s pristine dress. She shrieked, instantly looking toward the living room. “Declan! I just wanted to give her a drink!” Declan stormed into the hallway, his fingers snapping around my jaw like a vise. “Bonnie! You think you’re still some high-class princess?” “Vivian offers you water and you throw it?” “Then you don’t drink!” Right in front of me, he pulled Vivian in by the waist and crushed his mouth to hers. It was a deep, wet kiss. The sound of their lips echoed in the hollow foyer. I ignored them, my eyes fixed on the antique grandfather clock against the wall. The second hand ticked forward steadily. Seven o’clock. Back at the warehouse, seven o’clock was medicine time. Will would always feed me. Even though they were expired painkillers, he would crush them into powder and mix them into a piece of butterscotch. “Seven o’clock…” I mumbled to myself, my gaze drifting right through the kissing couple. “Will needs to give me my medicine.” “If I don’t take it, my head hurts… Will…” Declan’s body went rigid. He tore himself away from Vivian, his head snapping toward me. He marched to the wall and ripped the clock off its hook. The heavy timepiece crashed at my feet. Shards of glass exploded, one slicing a deep cut across my cheek. Warm blood trickled down my neck. I didn’t feel the pain. I only felt sorrow that the clock was broken. Now I couldn’t tell the time. Declan’s eyes were bloodshot. He roared at me, the veins in his neck bulging. “Will! Will! Always fucking Will!” “Open your goddamn eyes and look at me! I am Declan!” “That kidnapper is dead! He’s been a pile of rotting bones for years!” “Nobody is going to feed you medicine! Nobody is going to give you candy ever again!” “Wake the hell up!” The ringing of the bell woke me. Declan was yanking on the chain, dragging me off the floor. “We’re hosting a celebration banquet tonight. You’re the lady of the house… Oh wait, no. You’re the watchdog.” He tossed a bundle of fabric at me. It was a French maid costume. The skirt was barely there. “Put it on.” I refused. Will didn’t like it when I wore revealing clothes. He said a girl had to protect herself. “I won’t… It’s cold…” I hugged my knees, shrinking back against the pillar. Declan sneered. “No? Then you can go out there and serve the guests naked.” Trembling violently, I pulled the costume on. The neckline plunged deep, exposing my collarbones, and laying a thick, jagged knife scar bare for the world to see. The banquet hall was ablaze with crystal chandeliers and champagne towers. Once upon a time, I walked these floors as the Sterling heiress. Now, I was carrying a silver tray, weaving through the glittering crowd like a ghost. People recognized me. They covered their mouths, stepping back to mock me. “Oh my god, is that Bonnie? Look at the state of her.” “I heard she was the warlord’s wife up in the mountains for seven years. Wonder how many guys had a turn.” “Disgusting. Why does Declan keep her around?” 4 I kept my head down, staring obsessively at the marble floor patterns. As long as I didn’t look at them, they didn’t exist. Will taught me that. When bad people are around, shut your ears and close your eyes. “Hey, pour me a drink.” A foot shot out into my path. I couldn’t dodge in time. My balance vanished, and I crashed hard into the nearest person, the tray of red wine flying from my hands. The dark crimson liquid splashed directly onto Vivian’s custom white evening gown. She let out a piercing scream. “My dress! Declan had this flown in from Paris!” She whipped around and slapped me across the face with everything she had. My vision flashed white. I collapsed onto the floor, my ears ringing violently. The guests crowded around, pointing, calling me blind, saying I did it on purpose. Declan parted the crowd and stepped forward. He looked at Vivian’s ruined dress, then down at me, pathetic and sprawled on the tiles. “Kneel.” He issued the command. “Clean her shoes.” I looked up at him in utter disbelief. There was nothing but pure, unfiltered disgust in his eyes. I stayed frozen. He lifted his foot and drove his heel into my calf, grinding down with his weight. “Do you not understand English? Wipe!” The blinding pain broke me. My hands shook uncontrollably as I grabbed a napkin and reached out to wipe the wine and dirt off Vivian’s rhinestone heels. I scrubbed mechanically. Scrub, scrub. Until… My eyes locked onto Vivian’s ankle. There was a tattoo. A skull with crimson red eyes. My pupils dilated to pinpricks. Deep in my fractured memory, I saw Will waking up from a night terror, his hands signing frantically in the dark: That bad woman… She has a dead man’s head on her foot… She is the one who hurt us… It was her. The masked woman from seven years ago. The one who ordered the kidnappers to execute me. The woman who caused Will to take a bullet through the chest to save my life. My mind might be broken, but that symbol was burned into my soul. “It’s you… You killed him!” I shrieked, a sound barely human, and lunged. My fingernails dug violently into her skin, clawing desperately at the tattoo. I wanted to rip that piece of skin right off her leg. “Ah! Murder! The psycho is trying to kill me!” Vivian shrieked, kicking wildly. The guests screamed and scattered. They didn’t know what I was clawing at. They just saw a rabid dog attacking its master. Declan kicked me squarely in the chest. I flew backward, the back of my head cracking against the hard floor. Black spots swarmed my vision. The impact tore the top buttons of the uniform open. The jagged scar, stretching from my collarbone all the way down to just above my heart, was suddenly exposed under the glaring chandeliers. The entire ballroom went dead silent. A collective gasp sucked the air from the room. Even Declan froze. His eyes locked onto the scarred flesh. Seven years ago, when I stabbed him, it was in the stomach. But this scar… was directly over my heart. One centimeter deeper, and I would have been dead. He slowly crouched down, his hand trembling as he reached toward the mark. His fingers stopped just inches from my skin. “How did this happen?” His voice was hoarse, fractured. “For that animal, you threw your own life away? You took a knife for him?” “Bonnie, was it worth it? Huh?!” My heart spasmed, sending waves of agony through my chest. I curled into a tight ball, cold sweat matting my hair to my forehead. But in the haze of the pain, the hallucinations returned. I saw a figure standing beneath the chandelier. He was wearing his black windbreaker, covered in blood, but he was smiling at me. He was waving. He was telling me I did a good job. Staring into the empty air, looking past all the disgusted faces around me, I gave that shadow a tender smile. “Will… it doesn’t hurt.” “Really… it doesn’t hurt at all.” “Look, I protected our secret.” “Let’s see how long you can keep this act up!” Declan didn’t even wait for the banquet to end. He dragged me out by the arm and threw me into the car. A thunderstorm was raging outside. Lightning tore across the black sky. The car sped directly into the mountains. 5 It was the mountain where the kidnapping happened. The desolate peak where I had secretly buried Will. I realized what he was doing. Panic seized my throat. I slammed my fists against the windows. “No! Stop the car! Declan, stop!” “You can’t go there! You’ll wake him up!” He ignored me completely. The SUV skidded to a halt on a muddy, unpaved trail. He dragged me out into the torrential rain and threw me into the mud. Several bodyguards were already waiting, holding iron shovels. It was Will’s grave. There was no headstone. Just a small mound of dirt. And a crude cross I had carved from a tree branch. “Dig!” Declan barked the order. “No!” I dropped to my knees in the mud, slamming my head against the ground at Declan’s feet. One. Two. Three. My forehead struck the sharp rocks. Blood mixed with the freezing rain, washing down over my eyes and blinding me. “Please… Declan, I’m begging you…” “You can hit me, you can kill me, just leave him alone…” “This is the only home he has left…” The once-proud heiress of the Sterling family was grinding her dignity into the mud for the peace of a dead man. Declan stood under a black umbrella, staring down at me with absolute zero empathy. “Keep digging.” The sound of shovels biting into the earth. Scrape. Toss. Scrape. Finally, a hard thud. They hit something. There was no coffin. Just a rusty butter cookie tin. That was Will’s “urn.” It held the few fragments of bone that remained after the fire. The bones I had risked my life to dig out of the ashes. A bodyguard handed the tin to Declan. He pried the lid off violently. Inside, resting among the charred bone fragments, were several blackened, melted butterscotch candies. And a yellowed photograph. The photo was facedown. Scrawled across the back in childish, crooked handwriting was a single line: [Brother, let her go.] Declan’s entire body jolted. He recognized that handwriting. I didn’t know what was going through his head. I only knew he was ruining my Will. I threw myself at him, snatching the tin from his hands. He instinctively reached to grab it back. I scooped up a clump of the spoiled candy, mixed with dirt and bone dust, and shoved it into my mouth. Will left it for me. It was mine. No one could take it from me. Declan roared. “Spit it out! Are you insane, Bonnie?! It’s toxic!” He lunged, forcing his fingers into my mouth to pry my jaws open. He was terrified. Terrified of this broken version of me, a woman so far gone she would swallow a dead man’s bones and rotted candy just to keep them safe. “Spit it out!” His hands were shaking. His voice was breaking. I clamped my jaw down with everything I had. My teeth tore into my own tongue, but I refused to let go. His fingers stirred the foul sweetness around, and it began to melt down my throat. Bitter. Astringent. The unmistakable taste of death. My teeth shredded his fingers. Blood poured from his skin, but as he stared into my manic, wild eyes, he froze. I swallowed. I swallowed the ashes, the candy, and seven years of unendurable agony. I released my bite. My mouth was smeared with his blood and the black residue of the caramel. Looking at the panic and horror slowly consuming the man in front of me, a dark sense of irony bubbled up in my chest. Seven years of silence erupted. I screamed at him, my vocal cords tearing: “It was you!” “He saved me! And you ordered them to shoot him!” “That was your brother! You murdered the brother who saved your fiancée!” “You’re a murderer, Declan!” A massive crack of lightning split the sky, illuminating Declan’s ghostly white face. He stumbled backward, collapsing into the mud. The photograph slipped from his bleeding fingers, landing softly in a puddle. The handwriting on the back screamed up at him. “No… that’s impossible…” Watching him finally break, I wanted to throw my head back and laugh. But a sudden, violent cough tore through me, and a mouthful of dark blood splattered across the dirt. The world went black. I fell straight backward into the open, empty grave. The rain swallowed me whole. I’m coming to keep you company, Will.

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1 At dawn, I raced to the airport for a life-saving medical flight to Seattle. Instead, my husband—the pilot in command—blocked me from boarding. “Overbooked,” Preston said coldly. “Rebooked you first class later. Airline’s giving a $500 voucher. Stop causing a scene.” I showed my medical confirmation, begging. “Months to get this specialist. Miss it, who knows when I’ll get another slot. Condition can’t wait. Our three-year-old son needs me.” He adjusted his pilot’s tie, righteous. “Rules are rules. Being my wife doesn’t grant special treatment.” Then I saw her—the college student I’d sponsored for years—stroll past security, late but boarding without issue. Fury surged. “I arrived two hours before her! Overbooked, yet I’m bumped while she boards?!” He swatted my hand away, scowling. “Be decent. Fighting a girl for a seat? She’s never been to Disneyland. Can’t you step aside? And stop faking illness to manipulate me. Terrible example for our son.” “Preston, I’m not lying. I barely got this appointment. Missing it could cost me my life,” I pleaded, my voice trembling. I had been up all night taking care of our sick toddler before rushing to the airport. Right now, my messy hair and wrinkled clothes clearly disgusted him. “Stop throwing a tantrum. The airline is compensating you and giving you an upgrade. Don’t push your luck!” I crumpled the five-hundred-dollar voucher he shoved into my hand and threw it on the floor, my emotions finally reaching a breaking point. “I don’t want an upgrade. I just want to make my appointment.” “The doctor warned me that if I don’t get surgery immediately, the cells will turn cancerous. Is five hundred dollars going to buy my life back?” Seeing that I wasn’t backing down, Preston’s face darkened completely. “Are you done?” “I thought you quit your job so you could focus on raising our son. Instead, you’re constantly faking illnesses just to get out of doing anything around the house.” “It’s bad enough you pull these stunts at home, but making a scene in public? You’re embarrassing me. If you want to act this badly, go audition for a reality show.” His cold, mocking words pierced through my chest like jagged glass. When I married him, I defied my parents, asked for zero financial support, and gave up my own career trajectory. For years, he was incredibly gentle with me. The only dark cloud over our marriage was our struggle to conceive. To fulfill his dream of becoming a father, I endured agonizing physical pain and mental anguish. After hundreds of hormone injections and grueling rounds of IVF, I finally got pregnant. But shortly after our son was born, I was diagnosed with a severe endometrial condition, a direct result of the relentless uterine stimulation from the fertility treatments. Right as I got the diagnosis, Preston hit a critical turning point in his career, preparing to promote from First Officer to Captain. Afraid of distracting him, I hid my illness, quit my high-paying job, and became a full-time stay-at-home mom. It wasn’t until my doctor sternly told me that I could no longer overwork myself, urging me to see a top specialist in Seattle for immediate surgery, that genuine fear set in. But the specialist was incredibly sought after. Appointments were impossible to get. To prevent my condition from deteriorating while I waited, I followed my doctor’s orders. I stopped scrubbing the house from top to bottom every day. I stopped cooking extravagant five-course meals every night. Preston’s dissatisfaction grew daily. I thought that once I explained my exhaustion, he would understand and comfort me. Instead, he convinced himself I was just lazy, using phantom pains as an excuse to avoid housework. Watching the boarding time tick away, I was burning with panic. I had no choice but to use our son as a bargaining chip. “Preston, please, for the sake of our little boy. Let me on this plane. He’s only three. He needs me.” Hearing me mention our son only deepened the contempt in his eyes. “You have the nerve to bring him up? You’re acting like a lunatic in a crowded terminal, lying through your teeth. Do you even deserve to be his mother? I won’t let you infect him with your toxicity.” “I suggest you drop the act. As the Captain of this flight, I will not show favoritism. Company policy dictates that overbooked passengers must be rebooked.” “And you are no exception!” Staring at his flawlessly bureaucratic mask, a profound sense of disappointment washed over me. Just then, a middle-aged woman in line stepped forward, her voice sympathetic. “Captain, your wife looks terribly pale. She might actually be very sick. Why don’t I give her my seat? I’m not in a rush.” A spark of hope ignited in my chest, but Preston shut it down without a second thought. “Audrey, don’t think I didn’t see your physical from last year. You are perfectly healthy.” “When did I ever have a…” “Shut up!” My husband barked, cutting me off aggressively. “Stop preying on the kindness of strangers to get your way.” The moment those words left his mouth, the kind woman gave me a complicated, slightly disgusted look. A second later, she turned away and walked straight down the jet bridge. Driven into a corner, I pulled up my hospital portal on my phone, showing the digital consultation receipt and my medical chart. “Preston, look at this. I really do have an appointment with the oncology department in Seattle. I stayed up for three nights straight refreshing the page to snag this slot. I truly cannot afford to miss this.” He didn’t even glance at the screen. He just scoffed. “Your little forgery skills are getting impressive. If you put this much effort into taking care of your family, maybe our house wouldn’t be a mess.” Looking at the man I thought I knew better than anyone, my entire body began to shake with rage. “Preston, do I look like the kind of woman who would joke about her own life?” “Who knows? All I know is that your desperate need for my attention has officially made you lose your mind.” Before he even finished his sentence, the airport intercom chimed for the third time. “Final boarding call for passenger Lexi Vance traveling to Seattle on Flight 804. Please proceed immediately to Gate 5.” 2 Originally, I assumed it was just a passenger with the same name. It wasn’t until she physically walked up to the podium that the reality set in. It was Lexi, the impoverished student I had been financially sponsoring since she was in high school. She strolled up to the gate without a care in the world. When she noticed me standing there, a flicker of surprise crossed her features. She looked me up and down, completely discarding the humble, deferential tone she used to use with me. “Wow, Audrey. If Preston wasn’t standing right next to you, I wouldn’t have even recognized you.” “Your husband is a Captain now. You really should put some effort into your appearance when you leave the house. How is he supposed to show his face around his colleagues looking at you like that?” Standing there in her pristine designer clothes, she was a glaring contrast to my exhausted, disheveled state. The subtle provocation in her voice made my skin crawl, but I had no time to put her in her place. I grabbed her hand like it was a lifeline. “Lexi, I have to get to a life-saving medical appointment today. It’s an absolute emergency. Could you please let me have your seat and take the next flight?” She immediately looked past me to Preston. He frowned, looking deeply offended on her behalf. “Nobody is trading seats! Every ticket is tied to a specific ID. If everyone started swapping seats like you, how would we maintain aviation security?” After snapping at me, he turned to Lexi, his eyes melting into a puddle of sickening fondness. “Hurry up and get on board. If you delay any longer, your Disneyland itinerary is going to be ruined.” The corners of Lexi’s mouth twitched upward. She couldn’t even hide the smug satisfaction in her eyes. “Sorry, Audrey. Since it’s a security issue, I really can’t help you out.” Seeing her refuse, panic seized my throat. “Lexi, please, I am begging you. I paid for your tuition, your housing, your food from high school all the way through college. I have never asked you for a single thing. Just this once, please.” The mention of my charity brought a flash of embarrassment to her face. The bystanders, sensing her hesitation, began to speak up in my defense. “Come on, kid. This woman supported you for years. If you don’t have a life-or-death emergency, just let her take the flight.” “Look at her dripping in designer brands. She obviously struck gold and completely forgot the person who pulled her out of poverty.” “So many ungrateful people in the world these days. You really can’t trust anyone.” The whispers and pointed glares from the crowd made Lexi’s face flush with humiliation. Seeing his precious passenger cornered, Preston immediately stepped in front of her, shielding her from the crowd as he yelled at me. “Audrey! You’re the one who volunteered to sponsor her. Don’t stand here trying to emotionally blackmail her now. Stop acting like you’re some noble savior.” Choking down the urge to scream at him, I tried one last, desperate tactic. “Fine. I won’t ask for a favor. I’ll buy the seat.” “Lexi, whatever you paid for this ticket, I will double it right now. If that’s not enough, I will cover your Disneyland hotel and park tickets in full. Name your price.” To my absolute shock, Lexi’s eyes instantly welled up with tears. “Audrey, I know I’m not as rich as you, but you can’t just throw money at me to humiliate me. What kind of person do you think I am?” Seeing her play the victim made Preston’s heart bleed. “Are you completely out of your mind, Audrey? When did you become such a shallow, materialistic snob? Don’t try to corrupt a young girl’s spirit with your filthy money.” “This is her first time ever flying. It’s her first time going to Disney to celebrate her birthday, right during their anniversary event. Do you really think you can put a price tag on that kind of joy? You’re disgusting.” Without giving me another glance, he placed a protective hand on her back, ushering her toward the jet bridge. I lunged forward, snatching the boarding pass right out of her hand, and glared at Preston. “Preston! She checked in two hours after I did!” “If the flight was actually overbooked, why wasn’t she the one bumped? Why was it me?!” A businessman standing nearby leaned in to look at the timestamp on the boarding pass and immediately took my side. “She’s right. The wife checked in way earlier. Standard protocol dictates the last to check in gets bumped. It shouldn’t be her.” Hearing the man’s confirmation, the entire crowd turned their suspicious glares directly onto Preston. Under the heavy weight of their scrutiny, his flawless composure finally cracked. “The, uh, the airline’s algorithm selects passengers randomly for rebooking. Whoever the system picks, gets bumped.” “Besides, think about it. A perfectly healthy woman throwing a tantrum and faking a terminal illness just to board a flight? Doesn’t her motive seem a little suspicious to you all?” 3 His words caused the crowd to take a collective step back, looking at me as if I were a volatile security threat. I closed my eyes, a crushing weight settling on my chest. We dated for three years and had been married for six. This was the man I had defied my family for, the man I sacrificed my career for, the man I nearly died giving a child to. My entire world. My hands curled into tight fists as I fought to keep my voice steady. “Preston, you keep telling everyone I’m faking it. Fine. Will you at least believe my primary care physician?” I pulled out my phone and dialed the clinic. “Dr. Aris? Hi. Could you please take two minutes to explain my diagnosis to my husband? He’s refusing to let me fly to Seattle for my surgery.” Hearing the desperation in my voice, Dr. Aris’s tone spiked with urgency. “This is absolutely unacceptable! Your condition cannot wait another day. You must get to Seattle immediately!” Preston snatched the phone out of my hand and let out a vicious laugh. “Drop the act. I don’t care if you’re Dr. Aris or Dr. Frankenstein. How much is my crazy wife paying you to play along with this little script?” He ended the call, tossed my phone back, and turned away. “The cabin doors are closing. Let me make this clear, Audrey. Go to the customer service desk, accept your rebooked ticket, and stop harassing my passengers.” I grabbed his uniform sleeve, clinging to the very last shred of hope that my husband was still in there somewhere. “Preston, we have been together for almost a decade. I swear on everything we have built together, I am seriously ill. I have to get on that plane.” My voice was hollow, stripped down to raw, bleeding desperation. A microscopic shift flickered in his eyes. He opened his mouth, perhaps to relent, when his cell phone buzzed. Lexi’s sickeningly sweet voice drifted from the speaker. “Preston, babe, when are we taking off? Did Audrey finally go to the ticketing desk?” “If she knew you intentionally kept her seat open just for me, I wonder how she’d react.” My eyes widened in absolute horror. “Why would you do this?! What did I ever do to deserve this from you?!” “You would rather hand my ticket to a girl who missed her check-in window than let your own wife get life-saving medical care? Preston, you are a monster!” My agonizing screams echoed through the terminal, drawing shocked stares from everyone. Realizing his cover was blown, Preston leaned in close, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper right next to my ear. “Yeah. I saved your seat for her. So what?” “She grew up with nothing. No parents, no love, living in squalor. Today is her birthday. Why the hell can’t you just be a decent person and let her have this?” “And look at yourself. Have you looked in a mirror lately? If you’re going to fake being a cancer patient, at least try not to look like a homeless beggar. You’re an embarrassment.” I looked down at my clothes. A hoodie stained with baby spit-up, baggy sweatpants, and mismatched sneakers. What choice did I have? He practically lived at the airport to secure his promotion. Our son spiked a massive fever last night. To make sure Preston could sleep, I stayed up the entire night holding our baby in the ER. The second my mother arrived to take the morning shift, I sprinted straight to the airport. When was I supposed to do my hair and makeup? Watching his broad shoulders disappear down the jet bridge, the last embers of my love for him turned to ash. Fifteen minutes later, the flight I was supposed to be on soared into the clouds. Thinking of my little boy, I knew I couldn’t just lay down and die. I called Dr. Aris back in tears. Hearing what happened, he immediately called in a favor with the Seattle specialist. Luckily, a patient had canceled their afternoon slot. I thanked him profusely and ordered a rideshare straight to the train station. Sitting on the high-speed train to Seattle, I opened Instagram. Lexi had just posted a new story. She was smiling radiantly in front of a Disney parade float, wrapped in the arms of a tall man. The caption read: Celebrating my birthday for the first time with the love of my life, at the most magical place on earth. Absolutely blessed! The man’s face was cropped out, but his hand rested on her waist. I would recognize that hand anywhere. The jagged scar on his wrist—the scar he got from a stray dog while protecting me on our second anniversary. I would never forget it. I quietly exited the app and powered off my phone. I don’t remember how I navigated the subway, how I signed the surgical consent forms, or how I made it onto the operating table. All I know is that when I finally woke up, it was the next morning. When I turned my phone back on, there was a flood of worried texts from my mother. From Preston? Nothing. Absolute silence. He was clearly too busy drowning in his new romance to remember he even had a wife. Just as I replied to my mother, a message from Lexi popped up. “Hey Audrey! My boyfriend just invited me to his big promotion banquet on the 25th. What do you think I should wear to match my elegant vibe?” “After that little scene at the gate yesterday, I’m sure you’ve figured out who my boyfriend is. I strongly suggest you step aside with some dignity. Stop embarrassing yourself.” I typed back a single, cold reply. “Lexi, clothes are meant for human beings. You are nothing but an animal.” I blocked her number immediately. Five minutes later, my phone rang. It was Preston, completely furious. “Audrey, you are crossing a serious line. Your mother just told me our son was hospitalized with a fever, and you’re not even there? What kind of garbage mother abandons her sick kid?!” I didn’t defend myself. I just delivered a deadpan response. “Our son’s birthday is in three months. He really wants to go to Disneyland. Make sure you take him.” He paused for two seconds before snapping back. “You’re his mother, why don’t you take him? Do you not realize I am in the middle of a massive promotion cycle?” “Also, I have to fly out on the 25th. You better drag yourself back from Seattle before I leave, or else—” I hung up on him. The surgery was a success. The specialist advised me to stay for observation, but I insisted on an early discharge. The moment I was out, I hired a private investigator to track every single movement Preston and Lexi made. Then, I tracked down the businessman from the gate who had defended me. The next day, I walked into a high-powered law firm with a flash drive full of evidence. Following that, I sent the full, unedited story of the airport incident to an old friend who worked as a senior editor at a major news outlet. Soon enough, the 25th arrived. I slipped into the banquet hall wearing a sleek dress and a medical mask, taking a seat in a dimly lit corner. Lexi was wearing a stunning evening gown, her arm looped intimately through Preston’s. The two of them glided through the ballroom like a Hollywood power couple. Every colleague who walked past them smiled and said, “Congratulations, Mrs. Vance.” Preston never corrected them, and Lexi soaked up the title with a radiant smile. When the formal program began, Preston stood at the podium, looking incredibly handsome and arrogant. He gave a charismatic speech about his dedication to aviation safety, thanking the executives for their mentorship. The room erupted into applause as he finished. Suddenly, Director Davis, the head of flight operations, stormed onto the stage. His face was thunderous. He grabbed the microphone and announced to the entire room: “I have just received an urgent notice from the board of directors. Effective immediately, Preston Vance is suspended from all flight duties pending a full investigation.”

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1 Mike slapped his own face three times in front of both our families last month, swearing on his life that he had cut off all ties with his mistress, his yoga instructor. To prove his commitment, he even changed all his bank PINs to my birthday. Just now, an unsaved contact sent a text to his phone. I’m sick. I’m all alone at the hospital and so scared. Can you come see me? St. Jude’s was only a ten-minute Uber ride from our house. Watching his frantic silhouette as he rushed to shove his feet into his shoes, I stood in the living room holding my mug, letting out a cold, mocking laugh. “In such a rush? Why don’t you take the Tylenol from the cabinet? Hell, take a couple of condoms while you’re at it.” Mike froze mid-motion, then stood up to glare at me, his eyes dripping with pure irritation. “Diana, I’ve committed to this marriage again. Do you have to be so incredibly toxic?” “Do you want her to die just to prove a point?” Looking at his self-righteous, blaming face, I finally saw him for what he was. Fine, Mike. If you walk out that door tonight, don’t bother ever coming back. “Mike, do you seriously think changing a couple of PINs is enough to wash the filth out of your brain?” I stared at him, my voice like ice. His hands paused on his laces. He spun around, his forehead creasing into a deep, frustrated scowl. “Diana, are we really doing this again?” “I told you, Sienna has no one in this city. She’s got acute gastroenteritis and is hooked up to an IV at the ER. What’s wrong with a former colleague dropping off some medicine?” “A former colleague?” I laughed, a sharp, bitter sound. “Do you need me to remind you how many highly advanced positions you two unlocked on a yoga mat last month as former colleagues?” Mike’s face instantly flushed crimson. He stepped closer, pointing a finger right at my face, his voice a low, furious hiss. “I apologized for that! I literally slapped myself in front of your parents!” “For a whole month, I’ve come straight home after work. I handed over my credit cards. What more do you want from me?” “Do you have to act like a bitter, hysterical housewife and make this place a living hell?” The sheer audacity of his defense made my stomach churn with nausea. A month ago, I had thrown a stack of private investigator photos right at his face. Pictures of him and Sienna tangled up in a bed at a boutique hotel. Back then, he had dropped to his knees, weeping, begging for forgiveness, claiming it was just a temporary lapse in judgment, pleading with me to save our seven-year relationship. He had put on a grand show of remorse in front of our families, striking his own face hard enough to leave bruises. He changed his PINs to my birthday and canceled his VIP membership at her studio. I had been foolish enough to believe him. I thought if I just swallowed the humiliation, we could patch up the cracks in our marriage. But a dog doesn’t stop eating trash. A cheater never learns loyalty. I watched him fume, then turned, walked to the sofa, and slid an iPad out from under a throw pillow. “You really are a great actor, Mike.” “Coming home on time, letting me check your phone… a reformed husband of the year.” I tapped the screen and tossed the iPad onto his chest. “Then explain this.” Mike caught the tablet clumsily, looking down at the screen. In an instant, every drop of color drained from his face. 2 The screen displayed the synced data log of his brand-new smartwatch. He bought it last month, claiming it was to track his sleep. But earlier this afternoon, I logged into our shared family account and found his fitness app was secretly linked to another user. The profile picture was a mirror selfie of Sienna in tight yoga wear. “Every night at 11 PM, your heart rate spikes to 120,” I said, trapping his gaze as I stripped away his mask. “And at those exact same times, Sienna’s sleep log shows she enters an active state.” “Tell me, Mike. Are you two having spiritual affairs in the cloud?” Mike’s lips trembled. He instinctively tucked his wrist behind his back, trying to hide the watch face glowing with a faint blue light. “This… this is a system glitch. I have no idea how her account got linked!” He was desperate, grasping at straws. “Maybe it synced automatically when we were on the same Wi-Fi at the studio…” “Does the Wi-Fi automatically sync her period tracker too?” I cut him off with a harsh laugh, swiping my finger across the screen. The page shifted. Sienna’s menstrual cycle was highlighted with little pink hearts. Right next to it was a customized reminder: Baby’s cycle. Remember to get her favorite heating pads and dark chocolate. The reminder was set for this morning. Mike went completely silent. After a heavy, suffocating beat, his panic morphed into raw, ugly rage. “You’re spying on me?!” He slammed the iPad down onto the sofa, glaring at me with bared teeth. “Diana, you’re a psycho! Checking my phone, tracking my watch… you need help!” “I told you we’re over, but you just have to use these stupid, meaningless numbers to torture me!” “Yes, I’m the problem,” I said, inhaling deeply to suppress the sharp, tearing ache in my chest. “If I’m so toxic, get the hell out. Go to the hospital and find your pure, sweet Sienna.” Mike snatched his car keys off the entryway table and flung the door open without looking back. “Fine, Diana! Don’t come crawling back!” “I only regret being blind enough to marry a spineless piece of garbage like you,” I fired back. “You think I actually want to stay in this freezing cold house?” Mike stood in the doorway, one foot out, looking at me with absolute contempt. “Look at yourself, Diana. Look at the hysterical mess you are.” “Your hair is a disaster, you don’t even wear makeup anymore, and you spend all day obsessing over every little thing I do.” “Compare that to Sienna. Even when she’s sick, she’s ten times sweeter and more understanding than you’ll ever be!” He finally said the quiet part out loud. I stood frozen in the middle of the room, watching the man I had loved for seven years, feeling the blood in my veins slowly turn to ice. So that was it. The exhaustion and weariness on my face, the toll of keeping our household running, was just an excuse for his disgust. And the homewrecker who crept into our lives was his precious, delicate muse. I didn’t argue. I walked over to the TV stand and pulled open the bottom drawer. I took out a crumpled hospital bill and a printed insurance policy document. Walking back to the door, I threw both papers straight at his face. “If she’s so perfect, Mike, why the hell did you marry me?” “You talk about how pitiful she is, but what about this $500,000 critical illness insurance policy?” Mike looked down at the scattered papers, his pupils shrinking. It was an insurance policy he had secretly bought for Sienna three months ago, with her mother listed as the sole beneficiary. And the premium had been paid directly from our joint account, the one we had saved up to buy our future home. “You… you went through my study?” he roared, his voice cracking with rage. “The truth always comes out,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “Did you forget, Mike? Did you forget how I nearly died on an operating table a year ago?” 3 This time last year, I was rushed to the ER with a ruptured ectopic pregnancy. The doctors needed a family signature. I called Mike’s phone over and over. But all I got was the empty, robotic ring back tone. I almost bled out on that table. When he finally showed up, what was his excuse? He said he was hosting a massive client at a golf resort and had left his phone in his locker. He sat by my hospital bed, holding my cold hand, weeping louder than I was, swearing he would spend the rest of his life making it up to me. And I believed him. I dragged my weak, broken body through those dark days, keeping our home together. But last month, when I went through his phone, I found the truth. He wasn’t with any client. He was at a luxury hot spring resort in the next state, celebrating Sienna’s twenty-fourth birthday. He had posted a photo on his feed, hidden from everyone except Sienna, captioned: To my girl, may you always smile like this. While his wife was signing her own critical consent form in a pool of her own blood. “And now you’re telling me she’s the victim?” I stepped closer, locking my eyes onto his. “She used my money for her insurance, she used my money for her hotels. How is she the victim?” “The only victim was my unborn baby, who never even got a chance to breathe!” “And me, the idiot who let you lie to her face!” Mike recoiled slightly. But there was no remorse on his face. Only the defensive, ugly irritation of a man caught in a lie. “Diana, can you stop bringing up ancient history?” He yanked at his collar, his voice cold and dismissive. “The doctor literally said ectopic pregnancies are just a genetic fluke, a matter of probability!” “You’re just using it as an excuse to blame Sienna. Is this really fun for you?” “Besides, I didn’t know you were in danger. If I had known, do you honestly think I wouldn’t have come back?” My breath caught in my throat. A genetic fluke. A matter of probability. With a single, careless sentence, he erased his cruelty and betrayal. He even managed to make it my fault. Looking at his contorted, angry face, I felt a sudden, profound sense of detachment. Was this really the boy who used to run two miles through a blizzard just to bring me a warm cup of coffee on campus? No. The moment he climbed into Sienna’s bed, that Mike died. The creature standing in front of me was a hollow, selfish monster, stripped of any remaining humanity. “Mike, you make me sick.” The words fell from my lips, heavy and deliberate. I looked at him like he was a stain on the floor. That look seemed to pierce his ego. He raised a hand, his face twisting as if he wanted to strike me, but he stopped himself, his hand trembling in mid-air. “Fine, Diana. You’re the saint, you’re the victim.” He spat, pointing a finger at me. “Since you can’t stand her so much, I’m going to the hospital to bring her back here myself.” “Let’s see what the hell you’re going to do about it!” Right then, the phone in his pocket began to vibrate violently. A custom ringtone cut through the suffocating silence of the hallway. Mike pulled it out. As his eyes hit the screen, his hostile expression melted into something incredibly tender. He swiped to answer, his voice dropping into a soft, protective murmur. “Hey, babe, don’t worry. I’m on my way…” On the other end of the line, a breathy, tearful female voice filtered through. “Mike… please don’t worry about me. It’s fine if I just die here in the hospital alone.” “Go back and comfort Diana. I don’t want to be the reason you guys fight…” I let out a harsh, dry laugh. “What a saint. If she’s so considerate, who was the desperate woman texting you ten minutes ago?” “Diana! Keep your mouth shut!” Mike bellowed, slamming his thumb over the microphone, glaring at me like a cornered animal. I ignored his useless rage, stepped forward, and snatched the phone clean out of his hand before he could react. I tapped the speaker button and cranked the volume to the max. Sienna’s soft whimpering filled the room. “Diana…? Is that you?” Her voice sounded fragile, like a delicate glass ornament, laced with just the right amount of fear. “Please don’t be mad at Mike. It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have called him after hours.” “But I’m all alone, and the IV needle slipped. My hand is so swollen and it hurts so bad… I just wanted to hear a familiar voice. I didn’t mean anything else by it, I swear…” A textbook performance. Every syllable was an apology, and every syllable was a knife. She was telling me: Look, I have your husband on a leash. All I have to do is whistle, and he’ll leave you in a heartbeat. Mike lunged forward, clawing at my hands. “Diana, give it back! Didn’t you hear her? Her hand is swollen!” I sidestepped him, speaking directly into the phone. “If your hand is swollen, call a nurse. What is my husband going to do, suck the fluid out for you?” “You keep saying you don’t want to ruin our marriage.” “So why are you texting him late at night like a dog in heat? Is your hand disconnected from your brain, or do you just enjoy eating scraps out of other people’s trash cans?” The crying on the other end stopped instantly. Sienna clearly hadn’t expected me to drop all pretense of politeness. Before, to keep up appearances for Mike, I had always tried to play the dignified wife. But now? I didn’t even want the man. Why should I spare her? “Diana, how can you say that to me…” Sienna’s voice turned sharp with embarrassment. “Mike and I share a spiritual connection. We never wanted to hurt you.” “Love doesn’t care who got here first. The one who isn’t loved is the real interloper. Why can’t you just accept that?” I laughed out loud at the sheer delusion. “A spiritual connection? Is that what you call screwing on a yoga mat?” “Sienna, do you actually think being a mistress is something to be proud of?” “How about I send the videos of your spiritual connections to the group chat of your studio’s clients tomorrow morning? Let’s see what they think of your pure soul.” 4 “Don’t you dare!” Mike finally snapped. He lunged, grabbing my wrist with a force that felt like it would splinter my bones. “Diana, you’ve completely lost your mind! You just have to ruin everything, don’t you!” His eyes were bloodshot, staring at me with pure venom as his other hand pried at my fingers, trying to wrench the phone away. A sharp gasp of pain escaped my throat, but I clamped my hand shut, refusing to let go. “I’m ruining things?” I hissed, looking directly into his murderous eyes. “You two pushed me to this!” “If you walk out that door to see her tonight, I will ruin both of your lives!” Over the line, Sienna let out a terrified shriek. “Mike! Don’t hurt her! Just come to me, I’m scared…” Still pouring oil on the fire. Hearing her cry, Mike lost the last shred of his sanity. With a violent heave, he ripped the phone from my grasp. The momentum sent me stumbling backward. My foot caught, and I fell hard, my lower back slamming directly into the sharp edge of our marble coffee table. A dull, heavy crash echoed through the room. An agonizing pain flared from my spine, radiating through my entire body. My vision went black for a second, and cold sweat broke out across my back. I slid onto the cold floor, curling into a ball, unable to even draw a breath to scream. Mike stood over me, phone in hand. There wasn’t a trace of concern in his eyes. Only cold, detached disgust. “You’re a psycho, Diana.” He adjusted his crumpled collar, looking at me as if I were already dead. “If you want to lie there and throw a tantrum, go ahead. I don’t have time for this.” He spoke softly into the phone, “Don’t worry, sweetie, I’m coming,” and walked out without a backward glance. The heavy front door slammed shut, shaking the frames on the wall. Silence rushed back into the living room. Only the rhythmic ticking of the wall clock remained. I lay on the hardwood floor, clutching my throbbing back, as tears finally spilled over my cheeks. This was the man I had loved with everything I had for seven years. For a lying homewrecker, he had laid hands on me. I closed my eyes, memories flashing through my mind. Mike cooking pasta for me in our tiny first apartment; Mike spinning me around when I got my promotion, laughing. But all those memories dissolved, replaced by the icy, hateful glare he had just given me. I wiped my face and slowly, painfully, pulled myself up using the edge of the table. The ache in my back was a brutal reminder of what he was. But the fire in my heart had gone completely cold. In its place was a sharp, frozen resolve. I walked over to the window, watching his black sedan tear out of the driveway and disappear into the night. You think you won, Mike? You think you get to keep draining me dry while you play house with her? I grabbed my phone from the sofa and dialed a number buried deep at the bottom of my contact list. The call connected, and a gruff, impatient voice answered. “Who the hell is this? Do you know what time it is?” I looked out at the pitch-black sky, a cold smile touching my lips. “I’m Mike’s wife.” “Axel, your fiancée, Sienna, is sick. She needs someone to look after her.” “If you don’t get moving, she’s going to end up in my husband’s bed tonight.”

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Ever since I found out my husband was having an affair, I wanted nothing more than to kill him. Until one rainy night. He was meeting that woman again down by Crescent Lake. I saw his hand resting on her waist, tilting his head to kiss her. A few moments later, the woman headed back to her car to answer a phone call. Leaving him standing alone in his yellow raincoat, right at the edge of the wet stone steps. I couldn’t control myself anymore. I rushed forward and, with every ounce of strength I had, shoved him into the dark, freezing waters. He thrashed wildly a few times before sinking beneath the surface, completely swallowed by the lake. Back home, I stripped off my soaked clothes. An eerie, unprecedented peace settled over me. But the next morning, the doorbell rang. I took a deep breath, steeling myself to play the part of the grieving widow. Yet when I opened the door, it wasn’t the police standing there. It was my husband. My heart leaped into my throat. He was alive and well. If he was standing here, then who the hell did I push into the lake last night? 1 He was dripping wet, but there wasn’t a scratch on him. He didn’t look like someone who had just drowned. How was this possible? I had personally pushed him into the depths. I forced myself to breathe, desperately trying to project a calm facade. “Where on earth have you been? You could have at least told me you were going out in the middle of the night.” He gave a careless grin, setting down an empty bucket on the entryway floor. “Just out fishing.” Fishing. Always fishing. Chad was obsessed with night fishing, constantly slipping away to Crescent Lake. But I knew the truth. Fishing was nothing but a pathetic excuse. He was sneaking out to meet Sylvia. Sylvia was his secretary. At the office, they kept a professional distance, but the moment they clocked out, they were practically glued to each other. They thought they were being incredibly clever, but I had known for months. His messages were synced to our home computer. Sylvia had been pressuring him to leave me, demanding he make things official. Chad had been putting her off, but last night, his tone shifted. He told her he needed to deal with me first to clear the way for her. That was the final straw. Blinded by rage, I followed him to the lake. My plan was to push him in and frame Sylvia, but somehow, something went horribly wrong. Wait. If the person who drowned wasn’t Chad, could it have been Sylvia? It was pouring last night. Maybe he gave her his raincoat, and in the pitch-black storm, I mistook her silhouette for his. I set the breakfast plates on the table, trying to sound casual. “Heavy rain last night. Everything okay out there?” He shook his head, taking a bite of his food. “Fine. Why wouldn’t it be? It’s not like anyone threw themselves into the lake.” My heart skipped a beat. Did he know something? Why would he say something so specific out of nowhere? I lowered my head and took a sip of my coffee, trying to steady my breathing. No, if Sylvia had drowned, he wouldn’t be sitting here so calmly. Right then, his phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen, his face turning slightly pale. He grabbed the phone and walked out onto the balcony. I caught a glimpse of the screen. It was Sylvia. Sylvia was alive. My stomach dropped. If it wasn’t Chad, and it wasn’t Sylvia, who did I push into the abyss? 2 A name suddenly flashed in my mind. Blake? Blake lived just a street over. He was in his fifties, an incredibly kind-hearted man. He was a regular at Crescent Lake, always taking a stroll along the water after dinner. If I had accidentally killed him, the guilt would crush me. He had practically watched me grow up. When my parents divorced, I sat on the curb crying my eyes out, and he was the one who took me in. His wife, Maureen, made me a warm bowl of soup to comfort me. How could I have done this to him? “What are you daydreaming about?” Chad’s voice shattered my thoughts. He was standing right in front of me, back from the balcony. “Nothing,” I murmured, quickly gathering the dishes. He hesitated, his face unusually grave. “Fiona, do you have a minute? We need to talk.” I glanced at his phone, already guessing it was about Sylvia. But my mind was entirely consumed by Blake. I had no patience for Chad’s lies. I threw on my coat. “I don’t have time right now. We’ll talk when I get back.” I practically ran to Blake’s house. The front door was locked tight. My chest tightened. At this hour, Blake and Maureen usually loved setting up a folding table on the porch to play cards with Mrs. Higgins and Mr. Fletcher, laughing and bickering until dusk. But today, the porch was empty. As I stood there debating whether to knock, hurried footsteps echoed behind me. “Fiona!” I spun around. It was Maureen, looking pale and frantic. “Aunt Maureen? What’s wrong?” “Have you seen Blake? He went out last night and never came back. I’ve tried calling him a dozen times, but it goes straight to voicemail. He never does this. I’m so worried.” I swallowed hard, a cold sweat breaking out on my neck. “He likes to walk around Crescent Lake. Have you checked down there?” “I did, but there’s no sign of him. Oh god, Fiona, what if something terrible happened to him?” My heart felt like it was being squeezed by a vice. I forced my voice to remain steady. “Don’t panic, Aunt Maureen. I’ll go look for him. You stay here in case he comes back.” Without waiting for a reply, I turned and rushed away, tears hot against my cold cheeks. When I reached Crescent Lake, I walked straight to the stone steps. Standing at the edge, I stared down. The water was perfectly still, offering no secrets. I walked the entire perimeter of the lake, searching every shadow, but found nothing. Desperate and exhausted, I slid down onto the damp grass, on the verge of a breakdown. Suddenly, my phone vibrated. It was Maureen. “Fiona, don’t worry anymore! Blake is home!” A massive wave of relief washed over me. “That stubborn old fool crashed his e-bike last night. Hurt himself pretty badly and someone helped him to the hospital. He was too embarrassed to call me and spent the night in the ward. I’m going to kill him when he gets his strength back.” Maureen kept rambling, but my mind went entirely blank. I hung up and slowly stood up. Blake was safe. He was alive. I stared back at the glassy surface of the lake. If it wasn’t him, then who was at the bottom of that water? 3 When I got home, Chad had already prepared dinner. I was stunned. In our five years of marriage, he had never once touched a frying pan. I sat down, watching him. “You said this morning you wanted to talk. What is it?” He carefully put a roasted pork chop onto my plate, lingering for a moment before speaking. “Fiona, there have been some nasty rumors going around the office lately about me and one of the secretaries. If you hear anything, please don’t believe it.” I stared at him. “Which secretary?” “Sylvia. You know her. But I swear, there’s absolutely nothing between us. We’re strictly professional.” His expression was so earnest, so painfully sincere. It was almost funny. If I hadn’t read their messages with my own eyes, I might have actually believed him. I took a small bite of my food. “Right. Why bring this up so suddenly?” He gave a sheepish, defensive laugh. “Just didn’t want you getting the wrong idea, that’s all.” I nodded, remaining silent. Someone at his company must have caught wind of their affair, and he was trying to run damage control before I found out. I set my fork down and looked him dead in the eye. “Then tell me, what exactly were you doing last night?” He stiffened slightly. “Fiona, I told you. I was fishing. I didn’t go anywhere else.” He said it with such absolute conviction. The man was a pathological liar. Looking at his face made my stomach churn. And then my thoughts drifted back to the shadow I had pushed into the lake. I still had no idea who it was. An innocent stranger had lost their life because of my reckless rage. I stood up. “I’m going out for a walk.” I wandered the streets aimlessly, my mind a chaotic mess of guilt. Maybe I should confess. No matter who it was, it was my fault. But what if they didn’t die? What if they swam out? But if they had, wouldn’t they have called the police? Wouldn’t they be looking for me? Even if I went to the police now, there wasn’t even a body. Just then, I noticed a crowd gathering up ahead near the park entrance. Muffled voices drifted over. “Someone’s dead.” “They found a body in the water.” My legs began to tremble violently. Step by agonizing step, I forced myself toward the crowd. I squeezed through the onlookers and saw the figure lying on the grass. The body was bloated and pale, the facial features unrecognizable from water damage. My knees felt like lead. It was all my fault. I had killed an innocent person. I deserved to rot. Up until now, I had clung to the desperate hope that whoever it was had survived. But looking at the cold corpse in front of me, there was no denying it. The only right thing to do was to turn myself in. A couple of police officers and a forensic examiner pushed past the crowd. The medical examiner did a quick, preliminary check on the spot. “Crescent Lake isn’t the primary crime scene,” the examiner called out to an officer. “The victim was poisoned first, then dumped in the lake. Time of death is roughly two to three days ago.” My brain went completely numb. Poisoned? And the time of death didn’t match at all. It wasn’t my victim. My knees buckled, and I nearly collapsed. I didn’t kill them. I didn’t kill them. I took a deep, trembling breath and slowly backed out of the crowd. The police were already cordoning off the area, and the body was zipped into a black bag. As the onlookers began to disperse, I stood by the curb, my racing heart slowly returning to a normal rhythm. But the terrifying question returned, louder than ever. If this wasn’t the person I pushed, who did I plunge into the dark water? 4 If I kept spinning in circles, I was going to lose my mind. Instead of waiting for doom, I needed to take control. There had to be some detail I was overlooking. I walked back to the stone steps by the lake. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. But just as I turned to leave, something caught my eye. Directly above the pathway, a small security camera blinked with a steady red light. My heart seized. How could I have been so blind? After a couple of near-drownings the previous year, the neighborhood association had installed security cameras around Crescent Lake. Everything that happened last night was on tape. The world seemed to tilt beneath my feet. If the police reviewed the footage, they would see me shoving someone into the water. I would be locked away for murder. But if they had the footage, why hadn’t they knocked on my door yet? I decided to pay a visit to the property management office. The young man working the desk looked up as I walked in. “Can I help you?” “I lost my wedding ring near the lake path last night,” I lied, my voice tight. “I was hoping I could look at the security footage to see if I can spot where it slipped off.” He stared at me for a long moment, his eyes lingering a bit too long. “Sure. Go ahead.” He led me into the tiny surveillance room and pointed to the screen. “Knock yourself out. I’m going to step out for a smoke.” I sat in front of the monitor, my hands shaking so badly I could barely grip the mouse. I scrolled back to last night’s timestamp. 11:00 PM: Nothing. Just a blank screen. 1:00 AM: Still nothing. The feed didn’t resume until 8:00 AM this morning. I dragged the slider back and forth, confirming there was absolutely no footage from the night before. It wasn’t deleted; there was simply no recording at all. I stood up and walked out. The attendant was just finishing his cigarette. “Any luck?” I shook my head. “No. But why is the footage from last night completely missing?” He gave me a strange, knowing smile. “Oh, that. The camera got waterlogged during the storm and short-circuited. We only got it fixed this morning.” I thanked him and hurried out into the cool night air. A great weight lifted from my chest. The camera had been broken. No one knew what I had done. The person I pushed must have been a strong swimmer. They probably scrambled out of the lake on their own. If they hadn’t gone to the police, it meant they didn’t want any trouble either. I hadn’t killed anyone. With that realization, the suffocating anxiety that had plagued me all day finally evaporated. When I got home, Chad was stretched out on the sofa, scrolling through his phone. He frowned when he saw me. “Fiona, what is up with you lately? It’s finally the weekend, and you’re constantly running out.” “Just felt a bit cooped up. Needed some air,” I replied dismissively. Watching him lie there so peacefully made a bitter resentment flare up inside me. I had spent the entire day living in a waking nightmare, convinced I was a murderer, while the man who caused all of this didn’t have a care in the world. If he hadn’t cheated on me, I would never have been pushed to such a dark edge. I was tired of the suspicion, tired of the fear, tired of letting this toxic marriage eat away at my soul. I looked at him, my voice cold and clear. “Chad, I want a divorce.” He sat up instantly, staring at me in disbelief. “Are you insane? Why would you suddenly want a divorce? Did someone say something to you? Is this about Sylvia? I told you, she and I are strictly” The sharp ring of the doorbell cut him off. I opened the door to find two police officers standing under the porch light. “Good evening. We’re with the local precinct. A body was recovered from Crescent Lake today, and security footage shows you visited the lakefront three times today. We need you to come with us to answer a few questions.” My mind went entirely blank. Before I could even process their words, the second officer pulled a photograph from his folder. “Do you recognize this person?” I stared at the picture, the breath leaving my lungs in a sharp gasp. Every baffling piece of the puzzle suddenly fell into place with terrifying clarity.

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1 On the day I was diagnosed as brain-dead, I laughed. Because I believed I had been reborn. In that beautiful, fleeting vision, I didn’t go to prison to cover for my sister. Instead, I passed my exams, got into a prestigious university, met a wonderful man, and was about to walk down the aisle into a beautiful marriage. But just as I reached out to take my groom’s hand, the scene began to dissolve. The brilliant lights faded into a crushing, suffocating darkness. The music died, replaced by the sterile smell of hospital disinfectant and the rhythmic, hollow beep of medical monitors. There was no fiancé, no justice, and no fresh start. The wonderful life I had just lived was nothing more than a dying brain’s final, cruel trick, a dream from which I could never truly wake. Above me, a familiar voice trembled with tears. “Dr. Brooks, please. Is there really no other way? Can we really not just turn off the machines?” It was my mother, Martha. Her voice was thick with weeping. All my life, whenever my half-sister, Gemma, and I had a conflict, my mother would adopt this exact same tearful, pleading face, always begging me to make the sacrifice. “Mrs. Lane,” the doctor replied, his voice calm and professional. “The patient is in a deep, vegetative coma.” “Though her breathing is incredibly weak, the ventilator is keeping her stable. Pulling the plug means immediate death. As her mother, have you fully considered this?” My mind screamed in terror. Vegetative state? Pulling the plug? Immediate death? I fought to cry out. I’m not dead! I can hear you! I’m still in here! Mother, please, save me! But my body refused to respond. Not even a finger would twitch. “I’ve made up my mind,” Martha sobbed, her hand gently brushing against my cheek. Her palm was warm, just as it had been for the twenty-odd years she used to tuck me into bed. But the words that followed froze the very blood in my veins. “It’s been three years. Grace was beaten so badly in that place, and she has lain here like a corpse ever since. She has suffered too much.” “Since she can’t wake up, letting her go is a mercy.” She sniffled, her voice catching as she continued. “Besides, today… today is Gemma’s wedding day.” “Gemma told me she has carried this guilt in her heart for years. She said as long as her sister is lingering like this, she will never be able to find peace in her marriage.” “Doctor, Grace already took the blame for her sister once.” “Today is a joyous day. Let her leave this world in peace. Let her passing clear the air for her sister’s wedding. We shouldn’t let her linger and ruin the auspicious hour.” A cold horror washed over me. Took the blame? Clear the air? My chest felt incredibly tight. I wanted to scream, to laugh at the absurdity of it, but my throat was blocked, and no tears would come. Five years ago, a car with a blood-stained hood had pulled into our yard. Gemma had huddled in the corner of the sofa, shaking violently. Our mother had fallen to her knees, clutching my legs. “Grace! I beg of you! Your sister has the civil service entrance exam next month!” “She can’t have a criminal record! You’re the younger sister, and you don’t have a career yet. Just help me this once. Go to the station and tell them you were the one driving!” I had stared at my mother in utter disbelief. “Mom! She hit someone and fled the scene! You want me to take the fall for that?” “I will go to prison! Stand up, we need to call the police. Let Gemma turn herself in; maybe they’ll show her mercy!” I had tried to pull her up, crying. “No! Grace, Gemma doesn’t have a father. She only has me!” “If you don’t save her, I will end my life right in front of you!” My mother had begun striking herself across the face, over and over, until blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. “Just let it go, Grace. I beg of you, please…” “I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you, I swear!” That desperate plea had sent me to the police station in Gemma’s place. Because I couldn’t bear to watch my mother destroy herself, I took a seven-year sentence. But I didn’t receive any compensation. All I found in that prison was living hell. 2 The sharp click of high heels drew near, the scent of expensive perfume cutting through the smell of disinfectant. “Mom, what did the doctor say?” Gemma asked. My mother’s voice turned anxious. “Gemma, why are you here in your wedding dress? That’s bad luck!” “Today is my big day, how could I not come to see my sister?” The sound of rustling fabric followed as she stepped closer to my bed. “Grace, look at me. Isn’t your sister beautiful today?” “This gown is custom-made. Nolan had it flown in from Paris just for me.” Gemma’s tone was filled with a familiar, condescending triumph. She reached down, her hand resting on the back of my wrist. In the next second, her manicured nails dug deep into the tender flesh of my inner arm. She pinched, twisting her fingers a full hundred and eighty degrees. An agonizing pain flared through my arm, but I couldn’t make a sound. “Oh, her hands are so cold,” Gemma gasped, her voice dripping with mock concern. She dug her nails in even deeper, puncturing the skin until a thin trickle of blood began to seep out. My mother wiped her eyes. “Yes, she’s had a hard life. Gemma, you really are a wonderful sister.” “If Grace could feel this, knowing you came to see her in your wedding dress, she would be so comforted.” I felt a bitter, freezing anger. Mother, open your eyes! Look at what your precious daughter is doing! She is mutilating your child right in front of you! “Mrs. Lane,” the doctor called out. “Since you’ve made your decision, please sign the consent form to withdraw life support.” “Once we remove the tube, she will pass away from respiratory failure within ten minutes.” “Alright… I’ll sign,” Martha’s voice shook. I screamed in the silence of my mind, begging her not to. I tried to focus every ounce of my will on my fingertips, desperate to make them move, but my body remained heavy and unresponsive. Despair settled over me like a shroud. The door to the room opened. “Gemma, why are you still here? The wedding cars have been waiting downstairs for over half an hour.” “We’re going to miss the entrance hour.” Footsteps stopped near the foot of my bed. It was Nolan. He was the university senior I had secretly loved for four years, and now, he was Gemma’s fiancé. Gemma let go of my arm, her voice turning soft. “Nolan, I just couldn’t leave her. Seeing her like this, how can I focus on my wedding?” “Why are you wasting your tears on her? She’s just a convict,” Nolan said, his voice laced with disgust. “She was jealous of everything you had, so she stole your car and ran someone over.” “She deserved to be locked up. Honestly, being beaten into a vegetable in prison is just karma catching up to her.” The sheer absurdity of his words made me want to laugh. Gemma was the one who had taken my car that rainy night. When she came back covered in blood, I was the one who took the fall. Nolan knew nothing of the truth; he only saw the sweet, fragile victim Gemma played so well. “Nolan, don’t say that about my sister. She… she was just impulsive.” “She’s spent three years paying for her mistake. She’s suffered enough,” Gemma murmured. “You’re too kind, Gemma. A cold-blooded criminal like her doesn’t deserve your sympathy.” Nolan turned to my mother. “Mrs. Lane, if you’ve made your decision, please sign the papers. Keeping this depressing presence around on Gemma’s wedding day is only going to bring bad luck to the marriage.” Depressing presence. The words stung, and a hot spark of rage flared in my chest. I wondered how my mother would react to someone speaking about me that way. Martha only sighed. “Yes, Nolan is right.” “Gemma, your sister wouldn’t want to stand in the way of your happiness.” She reached into her bag, and the scent of mothballs drifted over the bed. “I bought this floral dress for Grace when she turned eighteen,” my mother said softly. “It was her favorite. Once she passes, I’ll burn it for her.” “She came into this world clean, and she should leave it clean.” “Her father won’t blame her when she meets him on the other side.” My mother’s tears fell onto my blanket. I knew she loved me in her own weak, twisted way. When we were kids, she would secretly save treats for me. When Gemma hurt me, she would quietly apply ointment to my cuts when no one was looking. But her weakness had allowed her to sacrifice me to protect Gemma, and now, she was about to end my life. This wasn’t a mercy. I was fully conscious. Even when those three inmates had held my head under the water in the prison washroom, I had never given up on the hope of living. Even when my skull was fractured and the blood ran hot down my face, I wanted to survive to look my mother in the eye. I wanted to ask her if I had finally paid my debt of birth to her. And now, she was going to pull the plug herself, just so she wouldn’t delay Gemma’s wedding. “Mrs. Martha Lane, please sign here.” “Once you sign, we will turn off the ventilator and remove the tube,” the nurse instructed. The sound of a pen scratching against paper filled the quiet room. My mother’s hand was shaking, the pen clattering against the table. “Mrs. Lane, just sign. It’s better to end the pain quickly,” Nolan urged. I waited in the dark for the end. The beautiful dream of my wedding was gone, leaving me to face the harsh reality of my death. My mother leaned down, her tear-stained cheek pressing against mine. “Grace… I’m so sorry.” “In your next life, find a better mother. Don’t be my daughter again.” “I was too weak to protect you.” The pen moved. She signed her name. The steady line on the heart monitor began to waver, and a cold dread settled deep in my chest. 3 Nolan took the form and handed it to the doctor. “It’s signed. Thank you, doctor.” “Very well. The extubation process can sometimes cause involuntary spasms.” “The sight can be distressing for family members. If you wish, you may wait outside,” the doctor advised. “Nolan, why don’t you help the doctor prepare the equipment?” Gemma suggested. “I want to stay with my sister for a few more minutes, just to say goodbye.” Nolan placed a hand on her shoulder. “Alright. Don’t be too sad. I’ll be waiting just outside the door.” “Mrs. Lane, why don’t you come out and get some fresh air too?” “No! I want to stay with my Grace…” my mother wept. “Mom! Please go outside!” Gemma’s voice hardened, her tone leaving no room for argument. The weeping stopped. My mother had never dared to cross Gemma. As the footsteps retreated and the door clicked shut, only Gemma and I remained in the room. I heard the slide of the lock. Gemma climbed onto a chair, her heels clicking against the plastic as she reached up to switch off the security camera. A chill ran down my spine. What was she planning to do? She walked back to my bedside, a soft, malicious laugh escaping her lips. “Finally… it’s finally over, my dear sister.” She leaned down, her weight pressing heavily against my chest, making it difficult to breathe. She brought her lips close to my ear. “Do you want to know why I insisted on watching you die today?” “Because yesterday, the nurse called me. She said your finger had twitched.” “I couldn’t risk you waking up.” The heart monitor began to beep more rapidly, the lines spiking on the screen. Gemma reached out, her fingers pinching my jaw, pressing down with brutal force. “Save your energy. Even if you can hear me, what does it matter?” “In a few minutes, you’ll be nothing but a corpse.” She smiled, her voice a cruel whisper. “Grace, you must feel so betrayed.” “You took the fall for me.” “And yet, you still ended up with a fractured skull in prison, turned into this pathetic, half-dead creature.” My mind reeled. Did she arrange the attack in prison? “That’s right. Those three inmates? I paid them to take care of you.” “Our foolish mother kept talking about trying to get your sentence reduced. She wanted you out early.” “But you had to stay quiet. You had to remain a useless vegetable so Nolan would stay with me. The only stain on my past had to be buried forever,” Gemma laughed, her voice dripping with malice. She was completely insane. I fought with everything I had to move, to strike back, but my body remained a useless cage. This was the reward for sacrificing my future. This was the daughter my mother had risked everything to protect. “Oh, and as a parting gift, I’ll share one last secret with you.” Gemma’s fingers slid down to my throat, resting right over my carotid artery. “That rainy night, the car didn’t slide on the wet road.” “The old woman was blocking my path, muttering to herself. I was annoyed, so I just stepped on the gas.” “I had no idea she would fly so far,” Gemma said casually. It wasn’t an accident. It was murder. The monitor’s alarm began to shriek as my heart rate spiked to a dangerous hundred and forty. Pure, unadulterated fury and hatred flooded my veins. “Why is the door locked? Gemma! Open the door!” “The alarms are going off! The doctor says she’s fading!” my mother’s frantic voice called out, banging on the glass. Gemma stepped back, delivering a sharp slap to my face. “Go to hell, sister.” She walked to the door and unlocked it. The door was pushed open, and the doctor, nurses, Nolan, and my mother rushed inside. “Doctor! Look at the monitor! Why is her heart beating so fast?” “Is she getting better?” my mother cried, pointing at the screen. “It’s not an improvement. She suddenly started convulsing earlier. She must be in so much pain.” “Doctor, please, help her find peace!” Gemma sobbed, her face instantly shifting back into a mask of grief. The doctor checked the vitals. “This is just involuntary neural activity before death. We need to proceed with the extubation; otherwise, she will only suffer more.” The physical pain of death was nothing compared to the agony in my soul. 4 “Step back, please,” the nurse said, pushing my mother away. The doctor stepped to the head of the bed, his hand resting on the ventilator’s power switch. Another nurse picked up medical scissors, preparing to cut the tape holding the tube in place. “My sweet Grace!” Just as the doctor was about to flip the switch, my mother let out a desperate cry and threw herself forward, grabbing the nurse’s hand. A tiny spark of hope flared in my chest. I thought she had finally realized the truth and was going to stop them. Even at the edge of death, I was still foolish enough to hope for her love. But her next words shattered that hope forever. She didn’t push the nurse away. Instead, she reached out and grasped the breathing tube herself. “Doctor… let me do it. I’m her mother… let me send her on her way.” Her warm tears fell onto my face, feeling colder than ice. “Grace, don’t hate me. I don’t want to let you go.” “But Gemma is getting married today. She can’t carry this burden into her new life…” “You want what’s best for your sister, too, don’t you? Just… help her one last time.” “Go in peace, my good child. I’ll be right here with you. Find a better home in your next life.” Help her one last time. Those words completely severed the remaining bond between us. What right did they have to decide my death? Gemma was a murderer. And Martha was her blind accomplice, ready to kill her own child to clear the way for a monster. Why should a murderer walk down the aisle while I was choked to death in a sterile room? I refused to accept this. If I was going down, I was going to drag both of them into the dark with me. The ventilator was switched off. The oxygen supply died, and a terrifying, suffocating panic gripped my body. But in that agony of suffocation, a surge of adrenaline flooded my system. My mother’s hand began to pull the tube from my throat. Gemma’s lips curved into a triumphant smile, and Nolan let out a sigh of relief. But in that exact second, my body convulsed violently. The eyes that had been sealed shut for three years snapped wide open. My bloodshot eyes stared straight up at the ceiling. “Ah!” The nurse let out a sharp scream, dropping her scissors onto the tile floor. The room went dead silent. “Grace…?” My mother froze, her hand still holding the tube. She began to tremble, her terror turning into a sudden, desperate hope. “A miracle… it’s a miracle! Doctor! My daughter is awake! She doesn’t want to die!” “She wants to live!” my mother sobbed, letting go of the tube and reaching out to hold me. But it was too late. I opened my dry, cracked lips, a raspy sound escaping my throat. Before her hand could touch my face, my arm shot up. I grabbed her wrist with terrifying strength, my fingernails digging deep into her skin. My mother gasped in pain, staring at me in shock. Near the door, the smile on Gemma’s face froze, replaced by pure terror. Nolan quickly stepped in front of her, shielding her. I didn’t look at either of them. My eyes remained locked on Martha. Looking at the tears and the sudden hope on her face, I felt a deep wave of revulsion. Ignoring the agony in my throat, I used my free hand to grab the breathing tube. Under the shocked gazes of everyone in the room, I ripped the tube from my own windpipe. A spray of dark blood splattered across my mother’s face and stained the pristine white skirt of Gemma’s wedding gown. “Grace! What are you doing? Are you mad?” My mother lunged forward to stop the bleeding, but I threw her hand off. The sudden rush of cold air into my damaged lungs sent a burning pain through my chest. I let out a harsh, wet laugh, spitting blood onto the sheets as I stared at her. My voice was a ragged whisper, but it cut through the room. “Mom… you wanted me to die so she could have her perfect wedding?” I turned my head slowly, my eyes sliding past Gemma to rest on Nolan’s face. “You don’t know the truth, do you?” “Nolan… the old woman Gemma ran down on that rainy night…” The room was completely silent, save for the sound of my ragged breathing. “That was your grandmother, the one who went missing ten years ago.”

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