Category: English

My mother-in-law, Helen, dragged a four-year-old boy in front of me and claimed he was my husband’s love child. She sobbed hysterically: “My son made a mistake, but the child is innocent. Just accept him, Chloe.” The mistress stood beside her, cradling her pregnant belly, wiping away tears. “Chloe, I don’t want to steal your husband. But a child needs a father…” I remained silent, looking at my husband. Ethan’s face was pale with anger. “No way! I don’t even know her!” The mistress sobbed and threw a paternity test on the table. It showed a 99.99% match. Overnight, the internet branded me as the “evil, barren wife holding onto a marriage that isn’t hers.” In court, the judge asked me if I had anything to say. I smiled, pulled out a medical file, and tossed it on the table. “Your Honor, take a look at this, and then tell me if this child could possibly belong to my husband.” The entire courtroom gasped. “That’s impossible!” …… “Chloe, look who’s here.” I turned around. My mother-in-law, Helen, stood there with a young woman holding a little boy. Helen’s eyes were red, and her voice trembled. “This is Ethan’s child.” The kitchen knife slipped from my hand, clattering loudly against the floor tiles. “Helen, what did you just say?” I stared at the boy, my mind going completely blank. Helen gently pushed the boy forward. “His name is Leo.” Leo. He shared my husband’s family name, Carter. My heart sank. I stood up. “You can’t just claim things like this. Ethan has been home every single day. How could he have a secret child?” “Why not?” Helen’s voice rose. “Five years ago, right after you two got married, Ethan had a business dinner and drank too much. He ended up with Vanessa… just that one time.” Tears began to stream down her face. “I didn’t know either. I only found out two days ago. Vanessa raised this boy all by herself. Do you have any idea how hard it has been for her?” The woman she called “Vanessa” stepped out from behind her. She looked to be about twenty-five, with swollen, teary eyes. She spoke in a voice so quiet it was barely a whisper. “Mrs. Carter, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to disrupt your life. But my boy… he needs a father.” I stared at her for a few seconds. “You claim he’s my husband’s. Do you have proof?” Helen immediately pulled a sheet of paper from her purse and slapped it onto the coffee table. “This is a DNA paternity test! Black and white!” I picked it up and scanned it. It was issued by the state general hospital. The “alleged father” was listed as Ethan Carter, and the child was Leo Carter. The conclusion: Paternity probability 99.99%. My hands shook slightly. This was absurd. “Does Ethan know?” I asked. Helen’s expression flickered. “Not yet. I was afraid he wouldn’t be able to handle it…” “So you came to me first?” Helen wiped her tears. “You’re his wife. Of course I had to talk to you first.” “Chloe, I know this is hard for you. But what’s done is done. The child is already here. You have to take a stand.” I looked at the little boy. He hadn’t cried once. He just stared at the adults with big, confused eyes. He didn’t even realize he was being used as a weapon. Vanessa spoke up again, her voice soft as cotton. “Mrs. Carter, I’m not here to take anything from you. I just want Leo to have a father. He gets bullied at preschool. The other kids laugh at him because he doesn’t have a dad…” She wiped her nose, sniffing miserably. “I don’t want your family’s money, I swear. I’m just an ordinary girl with no college degree and no skills. Raising a child alone is just too hard…” Hearing this, Helen cried even harder. “Look at how hard she has it! Chloe, do you have a heart? Where is your sympathy?”

I took a deep breath. “Helen, let’s wait until Ethan gets home.” “Wait for what?” Helen snapped. “The proof is right here! Are you still doubting it? Are you just afraid this boy will take a cut of your inheritance?” “I never said anything about money.” “Then you just refuse to accept him!” Helen pointed a finger at my face. “Let me tell you, Chloe. I am accepting this boy as my grandson, no matter what! If you try to stop me, you’ll have to go through me!” Vanessa gently tugged at Helen’s sleeve. “Please don’t fight… She has her own worries. I can wait…” She said she could “wait,” but her tears fell even faster. Watching this little show, I let out a cold laugh inside. Not in a hurry? Then why did you bring the child right to my doorstep? I pulled out my phone and sent a message to my husband on Snapchat: “Your mom brought a kid to our house. She says he’s your love child. She even has a paternity test. Get home now.” Ethan arrived in twenty minutes. He looked incredibly pale, sweat dripping down his forehead. “Mom, what is going on?” Helen grabbed his hand, her voice cracking. “Ethan, I know this is a shock, but this boy is really yours. Look at his face. He looks exactly like you did when you were little…” Ethan yanked his hand away and glared at Vanessa. “Who are you? I don’t even know you.” Vanessa’s eyes welled with tears again. “Ethan, you don’t remember me? Five years ago, at your company’s annual gala…” “What gala? I never went to any annual gala!” Ethan’s voice cracked with rage. “Since we got married, I’ve come straight home every single day. When did I ever go out drinking?” “Ethan!” Helen chided. “How can you say that? She’s a young woman who raised your child alone! Even if you don’t want to accept the boy, how can you pretend you don’t know her?” “Mom, I don’t know her! What do you want me to admit?” Vanessa covered her face and sobbed. She cried quietly, shoulders shaking, tears slipping through her fingers. The little boy hugged her, starting to cry too, whimpering, “Mommy.” Anyone watching this would feel their heart break. But my heart was as cold as stone. Because I knew my husband. He couldn’t have cheated on me. Because… After a moment, Vanessa looked up, her face streaked with tears. “Ethan, I know you don’t want to admit it, and that’s fine. I didn’t come here to force you. I just wanted Leo to see you, to know he has a dad…” She pulled an envelope from her bag and handed it over with both hands. “These are Leo’s photos, from when he was a baby until now. Keep them. If you don’t want them, you can just throw them away.” Ethan didn’t reach for them. Helen snatched them, tearing open the envelope to reveal a stack of photos. The first was a newborn photo, the second at three months, the third from his first birthday… On the back of each photo, there were handwritten notes: “Leo is one month old, he smiled today,” “Leo called me Mommy today, I’m so happy.” Helen flipped through them, her body trembling with tears. “Ethan, look at him. He’s so sweet. He’s your flesh and blood…” Ethan’s expression was dark as thunder. “Mom, I told you. This is not my child!” “How can you say he isn’t?” Helen suddenly turned on me, her eyes vicious. “Chloe, did you say something to him? Are you forbidding him from accepting his own son?”

“Helen, I didn’t say anything.” “It must be you!” Helen pointed her finger at my nose. “You’re just terrified of this boy taking your inheritance! Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to. You’ve been married to my son for six years, and you haven’t even given him a single child. Now you won’t even let him have his own?” Those words were like a dagger thrust straight into my chest. Barren. I had heard that whispered behind my back for six years. Every Thanksgiving dinner, every family reunion, when relatives asked, “When are you starting a family?” Helen would always be the first to chime in: “Oh, who knows? Maybe her body just isn’t up to it.” Later, she didn’t even bother to hide her disdain. She would say right at the dinner table: “I don’t know what cursed fate brought us a woman who can’t even get pregnant.” Ethan always defended me. But he couldn’t shield me forever. And today, she threw that insult right in my face in front of an outsider. “Mom,” Ethan’s voice was ice-cold. “If you want to blame someone, blame me. Do not talk to Chloe like that. I am the one who decided not to have kids. It has nothing to do with her.” Vanessa spoke up again, her voice trembling and weak. “Mrs. Carter, please don’t fight… It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have come…” “No, you were right to come!” Helen held her hand tightly. “In this house, the innocent shouldn’t be the ones bowing down!” The days that followed were a living nightmare. A post went viral on a local Facebook group with a sensational headline: [Barren High-Society Wife Denies Husband’s Secret Son His Birthright]. The post was written with agonizing detail. “My name is Vanessa. I’m a single mother. Four years ago, I gave birth to a boy. His father is a prominent business owner in this city.” “He was already married, and because I didn’t want to ruin his family, I raised our boy alone.” “But now, my son is sick and needs his father’s medical history. I had no choice but to find him.” Below the post was a photo of the little boy crying outside our front door—obviously taken in secret. The comments section exploded. “Is this wife insane? Keeping a sick kid away from his dad?” “The poor boy is sick! He just wants to see his father. How cold-hearted can you be?” “The husband is trash too. Sleeping around and refusing to take responsibility!” “Single moms unite! Expose this toxic couple!” Soon, someone doxxed me. My phone blew up. Hundreds of threatening text messages from unknown numbers poured in. “Are you the monster keeping a sick child from his dad? Have some shame!” “Can’t get pregnant yourself, so you won’t let anyone else have a baby? What a psycho!” “I hope you stay barren forever!” Every single text sliced into me. Even Ethan’s company was targeted. Protesters showed up outside his office building holding signs: “Ethan Carter, Face Your Son,” and “Deadbeat Dad, Give Your Child a Father.” His business partners called him. “Ethan, what is going on with this internet scandal?” Ethan spent hours explaining, but even though they sounded understanding, their tones had shifted. That’s how these things go. Once you’re accused, the truth doesn’t seem to matter. You will always be “the guy with the secret kid.” One evening, Ethan came home from work looking completely drained. “What happened?” I asked. “A major client just backed out of our contract,” he said, leaning back on the couch and closing his eyes. “They said they can’t do business with someone of ‘questionable moral character’.” I sat beside him and took his hand. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I dragged you into this.” “You didn’t drag me into anything,” I replied. “Someone is targeting us.” A week later, we received a court summons. Vanessa was suing us. She was demanding legal recognition of paternity, retroactive child support, medical expenses, and emotional distress damages—totaling three million dollars. Her lawyer told the local news: “Three million is a perfectly reasonable cost to raise a child. If the other party is willing to cooperate, we can settle out of court.” Three million. She knew exactly how much our family was worth. She chose a number that would hurt, but not enough to make us fight to the death. This woman was incredibly calculating. On the day of the hearing, it was raining. I wore a simple black coat and light makeup. Ethan held my hand, his palm soaked in sweat. “Don’t worry,” I whispered. He let out a dry laugh. “I’m not worried. I just find this whole thing incredibly absurd.” Absurd. That was an understatement for the circus our lives had become. A crowd had gathered outside the courthouse—reporters, onlookers, and internet trolls. Someone spotted me and yelled, “That’s her! The cold-hearted woman keeping a father from his sick son!”

I ignored them and walked straight into the courtroom. Vanessa was already seated at the plaintiff’s table. She wore plain, worn-out clothes, no makeup, and clutched an old cardigan. She looked exactly like a victim of a harsh world. Beside her sat a man in his late write-forties, sharply dressed in a suit—her attorney. Helen sat in the very front row of the gallery. She was dressed elegantly, her makeup done perfectly. She looked radiant, as if she were here to take her grandson home rather than attend a lawsuit. When she saw me, a flicker of guilt crossed her face, but she quickly looked away. The judge banged the gavel, and court was in session. The plaintiff’s lawyer stood up first. “Your Honor, my client, Vanessa, met the defendant, Ethan Carter, five years ago. The defendant hid his marital status and engaged in an intimate relationship with my client, resulting in pregnancy. After the child was born, the defendant refused to acknowledge him, leaving my client to raise him alone.” “The child has recently been diagnosed with an autoimmune disease and urgently requires the genetic history of both parents. My client requests this court to establish Ethan Carter’s legal paternity and order the defendant to pay three million dollars in child support, medical expenses, and damages.” As soon as he finished, Vanessa began to weep silently. Her shoulders trembled. It was a heartbreaking sight. Whispers erupted from the gallery. “Poor girl, raising a child alone for four years…” “The husband is absolute trash!” Helen sighed loudly right on cue, making sure everyone around her could hear: “Oh, what a tragedy…” The judge banged the gavel to restore order, then turned to us. “Does the defense have a response?” Ethan stood up, his voice steady but cold. “I do not know the plaintiff. Five years ago, I did not have an affair with anyone. This child is not mine.” Vanessa’s lawyer sneered. “Mr. Carter, we have a certified DNA paternity test right here showing a 99.99% match. Do you really think a simple denial is going to work?” The gallery gasped. “The proof is right there!” “He still denies it? How shameless!” “And his wife is just as bad, helping him cover it up!” Vanessa cried harder, burying her face in her arms on the table. Her lawyer spoke up. “Your Honor, my client is highly distressed. We request a five-minute recess.” Before the judge could rule, Helen stood up from the gallery. “Your Honor, please let me speak!” She wiped her eyes, her voice shaking. “I am the defendant’s mother, Helen Carter. I am here to tell the truth.” “This child is indeed my son’s. I didn’t believe it at first, but after seeing the DNA test, I had to accept the truth.” She turned toward the spectators, tears streaming down her face. “As his mother, I am deeply sorry to Vanessa and the boy. For four years, this child had no father, and Vanessa suffered alone…” “I stand here today because I want justice for this mother and child!” A few people in the gallery actually clapped. Someone shouted, “Now that is a righteous mother-in-law!” Another yelled, “Unlike that cold-blooded daughter-in-law!” Every eye in the room turned to glare at me. Those looks were filled with disgust, contempt, and hatred. I slowly stood up. “Your Honor,” my voice wasn’t loud, but it carried clearly across the quiet room. “I have evidence to submit.” I pulled a manila folder from my bag. Every eye locked onto the envelope. The judge opened it, his brow furrowing instantly. “This is…” The judge paused. I cleared my throat and spoke clearly, emphasizing every single word: “This is an official surgical record from five years ago, dated November. The procedure was a vasectomy.” “The patient’s name is Ethan Carter.” The entire courtroom fell dead silent.

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To prepare for our Valentine’s Day date, I loaded ten thousand dollars onto my VIP house account at a three-star Michelin restaurant. But my boyfriend stood me up at the last minute, claiming he had to work overtime. So, I took my best friend instead. Only to see my “hardworking” boyfriend down on one knee, offering a diamond ring to another girl. He didn’t just bring his new side-chick; he also brought a whole crowd of his parasitic friends. “I’m proposing today! Eat and drink whatever you want, guys—it’s all on me!” He held the mic, looking like the king of the world. That was when I realized the black VIP card in my purse was missing. Stealing my prepaid card to fund a grand proposal for his mistress? Did he really think I was that big of a fool? When it was time for the bill, he slapped the card on the table to show off. But the manager smiled politely and handed it back: “Sir, the cardholder just reported this card lost. It has been deactivated. How would you like to pay this hundred and thirty thousand dollar bill?”

For tonight’s date, I cancelled all my important meetings at the company and left early. I spent three hours getting ready. This was supposed to be our fourth Valentine’s Day together—mine and Tyler’s. I was full of anticipation, waiting for him to come home. Suddenly, my phone buzzed. It was a Snapchat message from Tyler. “Stella, something urgent came up at the office. I have to work overtime. I won’t make it tonight.” Looking at the screen, all my excitement evaporated into cold disappointment. My best friend, Chloe Bennett, called me. Hearing the sadness in my voice, she drove over immediately. “Stella Vance, get a grip! You are not going to cry over some guy!” Seeing me looking so miserable, she scolded me but dragged me off the couch anyway. “Let’s go! If he won’t take you out, I will! You look too gorgeous to waste this outfit!” Our destination was the three-star Michelin restaurant where I had just loaded ten thousand dollars onto my VIP account last week. I had thought it would be our special romantic spot. But as soon as our car pulled up, I froze. In the main lobby, there was a massive rose arch. It was tacky and loud. And standing right beneath it was none other than Tyler Sterling. He was wearing the custom $15,000 bespoke suit I bought for him. I had imagined him wearing it to propose to me a thousand times. But now, he was down on one knee, holding a massive diamond ring, looking up adoringly at another girl. I recognized her. Bambi Miller, the new intern at Tyler’s company. Just two days ago, Tyler was complaining to me. “These Gen Z interns don’t know how to do anything. I have to hold her hand through every single task. It’s exhausting.” Yet here he was, looking at Bambi with eyes so tender they could melt. “Bambi, before I met you, I never believed in marriage.” “But now, I can’t picture my life with anyone else.” That cheesy line. He had used the exact same words on me three years ago. Bambi blushed, holding out her hand to let him slide the ring on. His group of freeloading friends cheered wildly around them. “Kiss her! Kiss her!” “She’s beautiful, Tyler! You’re a lucky man!” My blood ran cold. Anger and betrayal choked me. Three years ago, when he started his company, he couldn’t even afford a tiny office space. I was the one who gave him $150,000 as seed money. When his cash flow dried up and he was evicted for not paying rent, I took him in. I let him live in my downtown luxury penthouse. I did everything to pave the way for his success.

And yet, he was using my money to throw a party for his friends and promise his life to another woman. Chloe was so furious she rolled up her sleeves, ready to storm in. “I am going to rip that bastard and his side-piece apart!” I grabbed her arm. Tyler’s personal credit cards were completely maxed out. Where did he get the confidence to throw such a lavish party? I looked down and opened my designer handbag. Sure enough, the black VIP card for this restaurant was gone. I looked back up, narrowing my eyes at Tyler under the flower arch. Ha. Tucked into the left pocket of his custom suit jacket was a familiar sliver of black and gold. The host led Chloe and me upstairs to a private booth with a perfect, hidden view of the lobby. Just as I sat down, a Snapchat notification popped up. “Stella, this client is being super difficult. I don’t think I’ll make it back tonight. Go to sleep, don’t wait up.” And then, another one. “I ordered your favorite takeout to the penthouse. Eat it while it’s hot. Love you!” Through the one-way glass of the booth, I watched him. One hand was typing the message on his phone, while the other was wrapped around Bambi’s waist, his fingers tracing her skin. My stomach churned. I felt like throwing up. Chloe shoved her phone in front of my face, her eyes burning with rage. Bambi had just posted on Instagram. It was a photo of her hand with the diamond ring resting against Tyler’s cheek. The caption was incredibly bold: “An old woman’s money is so easy to spend. But he still loves me the most ~” “Old woman?” He was using my money to play the rich gentleman, while his little mistress insulted me. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. I pressed the button to page the restaurant manager. In less than two minutes, a well-dressed, middle-aged man walked in. “Good evening, ma’am. How can I help you tonight?” I pulled up my ID and the electronic receipt of my VIP account registration on my phone. “My name is Stella Vance. I am a Black Card member here. I’ve lost my physical card, and I need to report it stolen and lock the account immediately. Please issue me a new one.” The manager quickly verified my identity on his tablet. “Of course, Ms. Vance. I will process that right away.” Five minutes later, a brand-new black VIP card was placed in my hand. Out of professional courtesy, the manager leaned in before leaving. “Ms. Vance, I should inform you. Our system shows that your old card is currently being used downstairs.” “As of right now, the pending charge is thirty-eight thousand dollars.” He paused, checking my expression. “Would you like us to call the police, or have security escort them out?” I picked up my glass of 1982 Château Lafite and swirled the dark red liquid. “No need for the police.” “From now on, my account only authorizes my signature and this new card.” The manager was a smart man. He understood instantly, bowed politely, and left. Downstairs, the cheering grew louder. “Tyler! I heard Vanguard Capital is officially signing the contract with you tomorrow? That’s a multi-million dollar investment! You’re going to be filthy rich!” “Yeah! Don’t forget about your day-ones when you make it big, Boss!” Tyler was drunk on the flattery. He stepped onto a chair, raising his voice so the whole restaurant could hear him.

“Of course! Tonight, order whatever you want. Get the most expensive things on the menu—it’s all on me!” He looked down at Bambi’s adoring eyes and playfully pinched her nose. “Babe, next month, we’re flying to Paris to pick out your haute couture wedding dress. My woman deserves nothing but the absolute best!” Hearing this, his leech-like friends exchanged looks. Eager to take advantage of his “generosity,” they snatched the menus and started ordering frantically. They didn’t spare anything with gold leaf or extra zeros on the price tag. Chloe watched with pure amusement. She pulled out her phone, logged into a burner Snapchat account, and easily slipped into their group chat. She pretended to be a wealthy heir who knew his luxury wines. She started sending photos of high-end bottles into the chat, adding fuel to the fire. “Today is Tyler’s big day!” “How can you celebrate without Romanée-Conti? Anything less is an insult to the bride!” The freeloaders downstairs saw the message and immediately chimed in. “Holy crap! The king of wines!” “Tyler! We need this! Pop a bottle of Romanée-Conti!” Tyler’s face froze for a second. But he tapped the black card in his pocket. He figured the VIP card had unlimited credit anyway, and the bill would go straight to Stella Vance. With that safety net, he stood tall again. “Open it! We’re celebrating tonight. Let’s drink!” The server soon brought out two vintage bottles of Romanée-Conti. With a loud pop, the expensive wine was poured, pushing the party to a whole new level of hysteria. Bambi clung to Tyler like a koala, whispering sweet nothings. “Tyler, you’re so good to me.” Tyler was practically floating. He pulled a blue velvet box from his pocket. “Do you like it? It’s yours.” Inside was a Cartier diamond necklace, sparkling under the chandeliers. My eyes narrowed. That necklace was from my private collection. I hadn’t even worn it yet! Then, my gaze drifted to the limited-edition Hermès Birkin bag sitting next to Bambi’s chair. On the handle, there was a custom-tied Alice in Wonderland silk scarf. I had tied that knot myself! No wonder I felt like things had been going missing from my closet lately—bags I rarely used, jewelry I only wore once or twice, expensive perfumes. Whenever I asked, Tyler would lie right to my face. “Babe, you’re just working too hard and forgetting where you put things. Check the drawers again.” It turned out this leech had been treating my closet as his personal free-gift shop! Unbelievable. Stealing from me to impress his mistress. Bambi squealed in delight, letting Tyler fasten the necklace around her neck before taking dozens of selfies. At that moment, Tyler excused himself to go to the restroom, walking toward the stairs. A second later, my phone rang. “Stella, are you asleep?” Tyler’s voice came through, thick with fake exhaustion. “I’m still out drinking with the client. My head is spinning. But hey, I have to grind for our future.” I forced down my disgust and replied quietly. “Sounds tough.” Tyler didn’t notice the coldness in my voice. He kept making promises.

“Just wait for me, Stella. Once we close the deal with Vanguard Capital tomorrow, we’ll get our marriage license.” He hung up, put on his smug smile, and walked back to the party. The server handed him the updated bill. The pending charge had climbed to ninety-four thousand dollars. Downstairs, the proposal had devolved into absolute chaos. A tipsy Bambi kicked off her heels and stood right on the expensive dining chair. She raised her champagne glass high. “Thank you everyone for witnessing our love!” The freeloaders lined up to toast them, spewing shameless flattery. “Congrats, Boss! You got the beauty and the money!” “You’re a genius, Tyler! Success in career and love!” “Exactly! Tyler’s new girl is so young and hot. Way better than that stiff, boring ex-girlfriend of yours!” When someone brought me up, Tyler didn’t stop them. He laughed even harder. His face was red with alcohol as he waved a dismissive hand. “Stella Vance? Please.” “She’s an old woman pushing thirty. How can she compare to my Bambi? Bambi is young, fresh, and actually knows how to treat a man.” Tyler hiccuped, continuing his drunken rant. “If she didn’t have those industry connections, I would’ve dumped her long ago.” “Once I sign the deal tomorrow, I’ll take over all her clients.” “Then I’ll kick her to the curb and tell her to get lost!” Bambi giggled, leaning in to give him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “You’re amazing, babe. I knew I was the only one in your heart.” She looked around the room, pointing at a few tables of random diners in the corner. “Babe, I’m just so happy today!” “Why don’t we buy a round for everyone in the restaurant? Let them celebrate with us!” Drunk on ego, Tyler didn’t even look at the menu prices. He waved his hand and roared to the room. “No problem!” “Tonight, everything is on Tyler Sterling!” His friends cheered, raising their glasses. “Now that’s a real boss!” Applause broke out across the restaurant. I glanced at my Patek Philippe watch. 9:30 PM. Perfect timing. I leaned back against my chair, waiting for the show to start. Downstairs, the noise began to die down. A tipsy Tyler, surrounded by his entourage, walked over to the hostess stand. He pulled out my black VIP card, pinching it between two fingers, and slammed it onto the counter. “Charge it.” The manager looked at the card. Then, he smiled politely and pushed it back. “Sir, the cardholder reported this card lost an hour ago. It is deactivated. How would you like to pay this hundred and thirty thousand dollar bill?” Tyler’s smug smile cracked, piece by piece. He grabbed the card, stared at it, and slammed it down again. “Stolen? This is my card!” “Is your machine broken? Run it again!” The manager remained calm and professional. He turned the screen toward Tyler. “Sir, our system shows that the owner, Ms. Stella Vance, verified her identity and reported the card lost in person one hour ago.”

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The elevator cable snapped. The sudden weightlessness slammed me hard against the metal wall. Suffocating from my failing heart, I gasped for air. Instinctively, I dialed my boyfriend, Ethan’s, number. Busy. Then, he hung up. A second later, a photo popped up on my Snapchat: “Chloe sprained her ankle. I’m at the ER getting her checked out.” In the five years we lived together, my weak heart sent me to the ER fifty-six times. Every single time I called him in a panic, his response was always the same: “Chloe needs me right now. I’ll help her out first, then come find you.” But he never showed up. Not once. I went to the ER fifty-six times alone. And fifty-six times, he was by Chloe’s side. Even on the day I got my terminal cardiac arrest warning, I was hit by a delivery truck at an intersection. When I called him, Chloe was the one who picked up. “Nora, I’m so sorry, my arm is acting up again,” she had cooed. “Ethan is busy cutting up my steak right now. His hands are full, so he can’t take your call.” Now, sparks flew as the elevator plummeted from the thirtieth floor toward the basement. “Ding.” A message from Ethan popped up on my phone: “Chloe is fine now.” “Are you still working late at the office? I’ll come pick you up.” I clutched my agonizing chest, my tears finally spilling over. Five years. He was finally offering to pick me up. But with a deafening crash, the elevator slammed through the concrete basement floor. He had no idea. This free-falling elevator… …had buried my tomorrow forever. He would never pick me up again. And I didn’t need him to anymore.

“Ethan, you should leave me. Go check on Nora.” In the sterile corridor outside the hospital’s orthopedic ER. Chloe sat in a wheelchair, gently tugging at Ethan’s sleeve. Her voice was quiet. It was just loud enough for the passing nurses to hear, dripping with self-reproach and anxiety. “Nora isn’t answering your calls. It must be because of my ankle,” Chloe murmured. “I ruined your dinner plans.” “My ankle really doesn’t hurt anymore. Some ice will do. Go find her.” Chloe lowered her head, her eyes rimmed with red, her fingers nervously twisting the thin blanket over her lap. “I don’t want a minor injury like this…” “…to cause another fight between you and Nora. I’d feel so guilty.” Heavy rain pelting the windowpanes made a dull, depressing sound. My soul drifted beneath the pale fluorescent lights of the corridor, silently watching them. Just half an hour ago, I was crushed into a bloody mess of flesh and metal at the bottom of the Midtown office building. And now, in this bizarre form… …I was forced to watch my boyfriend dote on another woman. Ethan stared at his phone screen. Still busy. He ran a hand through his hair and tugged at his tie in frustration. He grabbed his car keys and started to get up. But he froze when he heard Chloe’s voice. Sitting back down on the bench, he tucked the slipping blanket around Chloe’s knees. “You can’t even walk. How are you going to get home?” “The doctor said it’s not broken, but a soft tissue injury is still serious.” His tone was gentle, carrying a natural protectiveness that brooked no argument. “Nora might be stubborn, but she has common sense. She won’t throw a fit over something like this.” Chloe bit her lower lip, making her voice even softer. “But Nora hasn’t been looking well lately. What if she really has an emergency?” Ethan let out a soft laugh and shoved his phone into his pocket. “What emergency could she possibly have?” “She’s just throwing a tantrum because I came out to help you in the middle of the night. She turned off her phone to scare me.” “Once we get your meds, I’ll drop you off. I’ll stop by that French patisserie on the way back and get her favorite raspberry mille-feuille.” “I know her. She’ll stop sulking once she sees the dessert.” I hovered in the air, staring at his smug, confident face. He was always like this. So sure I could never leave him. So sure that no matter how biased he was, a little sweet treat would make me wag my tail and forgive him. He wheeled Chloe to the pharmacy for her meds, then drove her safely back to her apartment. Afterward, his sleek car pulled up in front of the famous French patisserie. It was late, but there was still a long line inside. Ethan was a man who lost his temper if a red light took longer than a minute. Yet, he patiently stood at the very back of the line. The cashier smiled warmly as she boxed the last signature mille-feuille and handed it to him. “You’re such a wonderful boyfriend, sir. Waiting in line so late just to buy her dessert.” Ethan took the elegant pastry box, a faint, proud smile gracing his lips. “She’s been in a bad mood lately. Just getting something sweet to cheer her up.” I watched him cradle the pastry box like it was some priceless treasure. Once, a rare gesture like this would have made me jump with joy for a week. But now, I only found it deeply ironic. He had the patience to wait thirty minutes in line for a pastry. Yet, he completely forgot that three months ago… …my doctor had strictly banned me from eating high-sugar foods due to my severe heart failure. He got back in his car and placed the box carefully on the passenger seat. He even reached over to lower the car’s AC temperature by two degrees. He was terrified the cream might melt in the heat. Having done all this, he dialed my number again. Only the cold, mechanical voicemail greeted him. Ethan frowned, his fingers tapping impatiently on the steering wheel. “She actually turned off her phone. Her tantrums are getting worse.” He started the engine, the windshield wipers rhythmically sweeping away the rain. My dead phone… …was currently crushed alongside my broken fingers, buried deep in the concrete cracks beneath thirty stories of rubble.

The smart lock beeped, and Ethan pushed open the door to our dark, quiet apartment. There were no lights on, and none of the usual warm aroma of dinner waiting for him. He stood at the entryway, staring at my flats neatly lined up by the shoe rack, looking utterly baffled. He had assumed that, as always… …no matter how angry I was, I would leave a reading lamp on by the couch to welcome him home. “Nora?” He called out tentatively. Only the sound of the rain outside answered him. Ethan changed into his slippers and flipped on the living room lights. Just then, his phone vibrated in his pocket. It was a long voice note from Chloe. “Ethan, did Nora get home? You guys aren’t fighting, right?” “It’s all my fault. I’m so clumsy for slipping on the stairs and making you run to the hospital in the middle of the night.” “If Nora is still mad, I can come over tomorrow and apologize to her in person.” “Even if she slaps me or yells at me, I just want you two to be happy.” Ethan unbuttoned his collar with one hand and sat down on the couch. He pressed the voice message button, his tone filled with weary reassurance. “She’s not home. Probably staying at a friend’s place.” “She’s just insecure and loves going off the grid to get attention.” “Don’t worry about it. Just keep icing your ankle.” “Tomorrow is our fifth anniversary. I booked a restaurant. She’ll show up.” I stood right by the coffee table, watching him finish the voice note and set the elegant pastry box down. The bottom of the box pressed directly onto a face-down hospital document. It was the “Critical Heart Failure Warning” I had received yesterday afternoon, which I hadn’t had the chance to show him yet. He didn’t even wonder what the paper was. He casually pushed it aside to make room for his car keys. Ethan stood up, tossed his tie aside, and walked into the bathroom. In front of the vanity mirror sat my usual toiletries. He turned on the faucet, his eyes drifting lazily across the marble counter. In the corner lay an empty, discarded bottle of my emergency heart medication. Ethan paused. He picked up the empty bottle, glanced at the worn label, and shook his head. With a flick of his wrist, he swept it into the trash can under the sink. “Always trying to scare me with her meds. She needs a new trick.” He muttered his low grumble, but it wasn’t malicious. He was simply exhausted by what he assumed was a desperate plea for attention. My translucent fingers drifted through the plastic bottle in the trash. Yesterday morning, he had been in a rush to drive Chloe to a job interview. My chest had been painfully tight, and I tried to hold him back, only for him to shove my hand away. “Chloe’s interview is extremely important! Stop causing drama right now, will you?” In the commotion, I had knocked over my water glass. My last three emergency pills spilled into the sink, washing down the drain before I could grab them. After his shower, Ethan dried his hair and walked into the bedroom. He lay down on our king-sized bed, taking his usual spot on the left. He unlocked his phone, opened our chat, and typed: “I’m picking you up from work tomorrow. Stop playing games. I bought you a gift.” After hitting send, he tossed his phone onto the nightstand. He closed his eyes, his breathing soon becoming steady and deep. He fell fast asleep without a single worry, utterly convinced that when the sun rose tomorrow, everything would go right back to normal, just like it always did.

The next evening, for the first time ever, Ethan left his executive office early. He wore the dark, custom-tailored suit that I had painstakingly ironed for him two nights ago, ignoring my racing heart. He adjusted his cufflinks in the elevator mirror, a smile playing on his lips as he drove toward the high-end jewelry boutique downtown. “Mr. Vance, the custom diamond ring you ordered last month is ready.” Wearing white gloves, the store manager respectfully presented him with a sleek velvet box. Ethan opened it. Resting inside was a flawlessly cut pink diamond. “Your girlfriend is going to be thrilled with this fifth-anniversary gift.” The manager added with a polite smile. Ethan stared at the ring, a confident smirk touching his lips. He walked out of the store, got into his car, and instinctively dialed my number to see if I was still mad. Once again, the only response was: “The user you have dialed is currently unavailable.” The smile faded slightly from his face, and his grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Still acting up.” Grumbling under his breath, he started the engine, intending to drive straight to my office and corner me. Right then, Chloe’s caller ID flashed on his screen. The moment Ethan pressed answer, a deafening crash of shattering glass echoed through the speaker. Following it was Chloe’s stifled, agonizing cry and sharp gasps for air. “Ethan… help me.” Ethan’s face went pale. He sat bolt upright. “Chloe? What’s wrong? What happened!” “I… I accidentally knocked over the boiling kettle. My legs… they’re covered in blisters.” Her voice grew fainter, sounding incredibly vulnerable yet trying to remain brave. “I’m sorry, Ethan. I forgot today is your fifth anniversary. Go find Nora.” “I can call 911 myself. It’s really fine.” Ethan glanced at the velvet ring box on the passenger seat and blurted out: “Don’t move! Burns are serious. Stay right there, I’m coming with first-aid ointment right now!” “But Nora will be furious.” Chloe sobbed softly on the other end. “Ethan, I don’t want to be the reason you two fight.” “She didn’t come home last night. If you don’t spend tonight with her…” This calculated, fragile show of selflessness instantly obliterated the last shred of Ethan’s logic. He spun the steering wheel wildly, making an illegal U-turn across the double yellow lines. The car sped like an arrow toward Chloe’s neighborhood. “I’ll explain it to her! She’s not that petty!” “This is an emergency. She knows how to prioritize.” My soul sat in the backseat, watching his tense profile. I watched him, once again, abandon me without a second thought, all because of another woman’s delicate “thoughtfulness.” He actually believed his endless favoritism was a sign of “trusting my maturity.” Stopping at a red light, he grabbed his phone and shot me a quick message on Snapchat: “Chloe got badly burned by boiling water. She’s alone and severely hurt.” “I’m going to help patch her up first, then I’ll meet you at the restaurant.” “Give me half an hour. I’ll make it up to you with the ring tonight.” He hit send and tossed the phone back onto the console. He was absolutely certain that as long as he had this multi-million-dollar ring… …it wouldn’t matter how late he was, or whom he was late for. I would be sitting in the corner of that restaurant, waiting for him without a single complaint.

At 8:40 PM, soft cello music echoed through the upscale French restaurant. Ethan burst through the entrance, slightly out of breath, his dark suit jacket draped over his arm. On the cuff of his white shirt… …was a faint water stain from cleaning up Chloe’s floor. The host greeted him politely and led him to a prime window seat. “Mr. Vance, your table has been kept for you. Shall we start serving the dishes?” Ethan looked at the empty, candlelit table. My chair was vacant. A sudden wave of unease hit him, but it was quickly overridden by sheer irritation. He tossed his jacket onto the back of the chair and pulled the velvet box from his pocket. With a sharp “thud”, he slammed the custom ring box onto the table. “Serve what? She isn’t even here! Am I supposed to eat with a ghost?” Startled by his sudden outburst, the host quickly bowed and backed away. Ethan angrily unbuttoned two more buttons on his shirt, his chest heaving. “I rushed over as fast as I could! Chloe was practically skinned by that boiling water!” “Was I supposed to leave her home alone to rot?” He gestured to the trembling server, his voice harsh. “Bring me some ice water. Now.” I drifted opposite him, quietly watching him stab the pristine white tablecloth with his silver fork in frustration. I watched him unleash his petty anger over my absence. He felt wronged. He thought that since he was giving me a priceless diamond ring, I had no right to punish him with this silent treatment. The ice water arrived, condensation pooling at the base of the glass. Ethan took a huge gulp, grabbed his phone, and held down the microphone button. “Nora, I’m giving you exactly ten more minutes.” “If you’re going to hold our anniversary hostage and act this immature, I’m done with you!” He released his thumb, and the voice message sent. The little bubble sat lonely at the bottom of the chat. There was no instant “Typing…” indicator popping up. Only dead silence. Thirty seconds later… …the phone on the table vibrated violently. The ringtone shattered the quiet restaurant atmosphere. Thinking I had finally caved, Ethan checked the screen—but it was an unknown landline. The caller ID read: NYPD Precinct. His finger hovered for a second before he frowned and answered. “Who is this?” His voice still carried traces of lingering irritation. A serious, professional male voice replied on the other end. “Is this Ethan Vance?” “Yes.” “This is the precinct. There was a fatal elevator crash at the Midtown office building last night. While clearing the scene, we recovered a female body.” Ethan’s grip on his water glass tightened so hard his knuckles turned white. “The victim’s phone was completely crushed, but we managed to recover the SIM card. Your number was the only emergency contact listed.” “Please come to the Forensic Medical Center immediately to identify the body.”

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To pay off the heavy debts, I was forced to work as a maid at the Vance estate. Chloe, the spoiled, short-tempered heiress of the Vance family, threw hot water all over me during one of her tantrums. That night, Ethan Vance, the heir to the Vance empire, left a tube of burn ointment outside my bedroom door. For the next two years, Ethan cared for me in secret. He even carried me on his back to the hospital in the dead of night when I had a life-threatening fever. In the dimly lit pantry, I gave him my virginity. It hurt. He held my waist gently. “Hazel, I love you. I promise I will take you away from the Vance family.” But later, Chloe cornered him and demanded to know what I was to him. He just sneered. “Don’t take it seriously. She is just a maid to me.” In that moment, I finally understood. Ethan’s love only existed in the dark. Because in the light, there was his father, his sister Chloe, and the prestigious Vance family name. I handed all the evidence over to the federal investigators. Two years ago, I accidentally overheard Ethan’s father talking in his study. My dad had died in a mining accident at one of their sites. The Vances had forged the safety reports and blamed the entire tragedy on a dead man. I spent two years taking secret photos of their financial ledgers, meeting minutes, and forged signature pages, keeping them all in an encrypted folder. On the day of the raid, federal agents swarmed the Vance estate. Ethan stood under the old oak tree, staring at me. This time, he didn’t look away. But it was already too late. I took the pen from the agent and signed my name on the witness statement. My love for him was real. The evidence was real. And my desire to drag the Vance family to hell with my own hands was also absolutely real.

Hazel’s POV The day the SAT scores came out, I was completely calm. I sat in the school computer lab, staring at the monitor, and quietly confirmed my score. The room was packed and noisy, but this was the only place I could check my results. Because I was just a “charity case housekeeper” living in someone else’s mansion. My score was incredibly high. This score, combined with my AP credits, was my ticket out of this damp, suffocating mining town of Blackcreek. It was enough to finally shut the Vance family’s mouths. “What’s the point of a perfect score if you’re still a nobody?” A sharp scoff cut through the chatter. Chloe Vance walked over, flanked by her two loyal followers, her chin held high. She stopped right in front of me, looking at the faded sleeves of my hoodie with pure disgust. Then, she raised her voice, making sure everyone heard: “A parasite whose family is drowning in debt, living off our table scraps. Do you seriously think a test score can change your destiny? You sleep in the maid’s room. You eat what my dog leaves behind. No matter how smart you think you are, you are still just trash.” The computer lab fell dead silent. Countless eyes darted toward me, filled with curiosity and silent mockery. A few looked sympathetic, but most were just waiting to watch me break. I gripped the straps of my backpack so hard my knuckles turned white. For two years, I had heard these exact words in the Vances’ living room, in their kitchen, and in the school hallways. I didn’t say a word. Instead, my gaze drifted past Chloe’s shoulder, looking toward the old oak tree outside the window. Ethan Vance was standing there. He was holding his gym bag, his grip so tight his fingers looked blue. His eyes met mine, his throat bobbing nervously. I stared at him, a tiny, desperate flicker of hope still burning in my chest. In that hellhole of a house, he was the only one who had ever left burn cream at my door. He was the only one who had ever silently handed me a pair of work gloves to protect my hands. But now, under the watchful eyes of the entire school, Ethan looked at me… and slowly, deliberately, turned his head away. He didn’t take a single step forward. A bitter, self-deprecating smile touched my lips. The very last shred of hope in my heart was instantly crushed by that half-inch movement of his head. When it came down to the Vance family’s precious reputation and his sister’s spoiled tantrums, he was just like the rest of them. He could watch me get trampled into the dirt without blinking. Just as Chloe smirked, ready to spit more venom, the screech of tires echoed from the school gates. Two black government SUVs sped in, parking right outside the computer lab. The doors flew open, and several stern-looking agents in federal uniforms stepped out, carrying heavy folders. The Vances’ private chauffeur ran over to block them. “Hey. What do you think you’re doing? This is a private school. You can’t just…” The lead agent silently flashed his badge. The chauffeur’s voice died instantly. His face went completely pale. The crowd of students parted like the Red Sea. Under a hundred stunned gazes, the federal agents walked straight up to me, looking at a photo in their hands. “Are you Hazel?” I stood up straight. “Yes, I am.” “We have officially received your filed complaint regarding Vance Mining’s cover-up of the fatal mine collapse and their falsification of safety reports. We are here to verify your identity. Please sign this confirmation of delivery.” Those words were like a bomb dropping in the silent room. The smirk on Chloe’s face froze. Under the oak tree, Ethan’s head snapped up. His eyes filled with absolute disbelief, and the paper he was holding was crushed to dust in his fist. I remained perfectly calm. I took the pen and, under everyone’s stunned stares, firmly signed my name on the affidavit. Once done, I handed the pen back. The agent slipped the document into his folder. He looked at me, a young girl, with a mixture of sympathy and deep respect. He lowered his voice. “We have a team secured to ensure your safety from here on out. You did the right thing.” “Thank you.” As the black SUVs drove away, the computer lab erupted into absolute chaos. “A federal investigation? Against Vance Mining?” “Oh my god, Hazel has been working as their maid for two years just to gather evidence!” “No wonder she never said anything. She wasn’t their servant. She was their reckoning!” The girls who had been standing next to Chloe immediately took three steps back, terrified of being associated with her. Chloe’s face turned from red to white, then to a sickly green. She was shaking violently as she glared at me. “Hazel… you bitch! You’re insane!” I swung my backpack over my shoulder. Without giving her a single glance, I walked right past her. The sunlight streamed through the door, casting my shadow long and straight. My shoulders were square. I was finally standing tall. Under the oak tree, Ethan stood frozen like a statue. As the wind blew, the shredded pieces of paper slipped from his fingers, scattering into the dirt. By evening, I was back at my place. In the cramped maid’s room, my suitcase was already packed. My passport and my acceptance letter to the University of London were tucked safely inside my bag. My phone screen lit up with a Snapchat notification from my lawyer: The evidence has been officially submitted to the federal prosecutor. Keep your line open. I stared at it, then placed the phone face down on the desk. Two years of silent endurance and suffocating pain. Now, the storm was finally here.

Hazel’s POV Two years ago, I was sixteen. The Vances’ chauffeur picked me up from the mining barracks in an old sedan covered in coal dust. It was pouring rain. I stood in the middle of the Vances’ luxurious living room, dripping wet, clutching my frayed backpack. Richard Vance, the patriarch of the family, sat on the plush leather sofa. He puffed on a cigar, looking at me as if I were a cheap piece of property taken to settle a bad debt. “Your mother is sick, and the debt your father left behind won’t be cleared anytime soon,” Richard said smoothly, blowing a ring of smoke. “Staying here with us is the only way to keep what little dignity your family has left.” “Taking care of me” was a lie. “Debt labor” was the reality. “Take her to the back room. She’ll help with the chores around the house,” Richard’s wife, Victoria, said from the side. She took a sip of her coffee without even looking up. The “back room” was a cold, windowless space at the very end of the hallway. It smelled like damp mold, and the cot creaked loudly the moment I sat on it. “Six AM sharp. You vacuum and mop the entire first floor,” the head housekeeper told me, tossing my backpack onto the cot. “You help in the kitchen during meals. Don’t go near Chloe’s room on the second floor. In this house, whatever Chloe tells you to do, you do it.” I looked at the narrow cot and silently clenched my fists. Before I could even unpack, the sharp clacking of heels echoed from the stairs. Chloe Vance, dressed in a brand-new designer outfit, strutted down. The moment she saw me, her face contorted with disgust. “Mom, who is this?” Victoria replied casually, “That’s Thomas’s daughter from the mines. She’s going to live here and do some chores.” “Live here?” Chloe stormed over, pointing her manicured finger right at my face. “Why? Our house isn’t a homeless shelter! Why are we picking up trash?” A few of the Vances’ wealthy relatives and house guests were in the living room. Some sipped their tea, others pretended to look at their phones. Not a single person spoke up. Every gaze felt like a needle pricking my skin. But I stood there, keeping my spine perfectly straight. Chloe walked a circle around me, then reached out and yanked the faded sleeve of my school hoodie. “You wear this garbage and think you can stand in my living room? Your dad owed us money. Why did he dump his trash on us?” I met her eyes. My voice was steady. “I can work. I won’t take up your space, and I won’t cost you a dime.” “How dare you talk back to me?!” Chloe lost it. There was a mug of freshly brewed, steaming hot tea on the side table. Chloe snatched it. The heat burned her fingers for a split second, but in the next, she swung her hand and threw the boiling liquid straight onto my bare arm and hand. The scalding water hit my skin. A searing, blinding pain exploded. My entire body shuddered, my muscles convulsing from the shock. Hot water dripped from my fingers onto the hardwood floor. Within seconds, my skin turned a violent, blistering red. But I bit my lip so hard I tasted copper, forcing the scream back down my throat. My eyes welled with tears, but I refused to let a single one fall. Chloe clapped her hands in delight, looking down at me with a smirk. “Now you know your place, trash.” A relative nearby cleared their throat and covered their face with a teacup. The housekeeper quickly turned back into the kitchen, pretending she hadn’t seen a thing. Victoria frowned slightly, but there was no anger in her voice. “That’s enough, Chloe. Don’t make a mess. Hazel, clean up the floor.”

Hazel’s POV Those words hurt far more than the scalding water. To the Vance family, my pain didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was the puddle on their expensive floor. Click. The front door opened. Ethan walked in, his school jacket slung carelessly over his shoulder. The moment he stepped inside, his eyes landed on me, standing in the middle of the room with a horribly blistered hand. He froze. Chloe immediately complained, “Ethan, you’re just in time! Dad brought this charity case home, and when I tried to teach her some manners, she actually glared at me!” Ethan didn’t look at Chloe. His eyes were locked on my hand. My skin was already turning purple, and blisters were rapidly forming. I stared at him, a tiny, desperate plea in my eyes. But Ethan just stood there. His throat bobbed, and his fists clenched in his pockets. In the end, he said nothing. He averted his eyes, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and walked past me up the stairs. His heavy footsteps on the wooden stairs sounded like a series of dull, final thuds. Chloe sniffed, pointing at the floor. “What are you waiting for? Clean it!” I lowered my eyes and slowly knelt down. The rag was dirty and rough. The moment it touched my blistered skin, the pain was so intense I nearly blacked out. I bit my lip until it bled, switched to my other hand, and wiped the tea from the floor, drop by drop. That night, my room was pitch black, save for the weak glow of a small desk lamp. I stood over the tiny sink, running cold water over my hand. The icy water hit the raw blisters, making me break out in a cold sweat. I turned the tap on full blast, hoping the sound of rushing water would drown out my quiet, pathetic sobs. Suddenly, I heard a very soft rustling in the hallway. The footsteps stopped right outside my door. There was a tiny thump, like something soft hitting the floor. I froze and quickly turned off the tap. Outside, the footsteps quickly retreated, followed by the soft click of Ethan’s door closing at the far end of the hall. Taking a deep breath, I pulled my door open. In the dim light of the hallway, a small tube of ointment lay on the floor. It was a standard burn cream from the local pharmacy, still sealed in its plastic packaging. I picked it up and instinctively looked down the hallway. But Ethan’s door was shut tight. No light escaped from underneath. I went back inside, sat on the edge of my creaking cot, and carefully broke the seal. The cream was cool and soothing. The moment I spread it over my raw skin, the agonizing burning began to fade. In this cold, heartless house, everyone had laughed at me during the day. Even Ethan had chosen silence and cowardice. But now, this tube of medicine was real. I stared at the white cream on my red skin and slowly closed my hand around the tube. The aluminum tube bent under my grip. For the first time, the smell of mold in my room was replaced by the faint, clean scent of eucalyptus. Someone in this house saw my pain. But he was too cowardly to show it. He only dared to help me under the cover of darkness. Eventually, the burn healed, leaving a faint, jagged pink scar on my hand. I learned to become a shadow in the Vance mansion. I kept my head down, worked silently, and tried to exist like air. I thought if I was quiet enough, I could survive here until I graduated high school. But then, on a chilly afternoon in autumn, that illusion of peace was shattered.

Hazel’s POV That afternoon, Victoria ordered me to carry a heavy stack of freshly washed drapes up to the second floor. I was holding a pile so high it blocked my vision. As I passed Richard’s study, I noticed the door wasn’t fully closed. Richard’s voice drifted out. “The collapse at Mine No. 3 can’t be delayed any longer. The official accident report must be submitted to the federal inspectors tomorrow.” The mine manager’s anxious voice followed. “But Thomas’s family is still making noise. His wife went to the mine entrance again yesterday. She’s claiming Thomas warned the supervisor about the rotting support beams before he went down.” Thomas. Hearing my father’s name, my feet felt like they were glued to the floor. My blood ran cold. “What can a dead man do?” Richard sneered inside the room. “Write the report. Put all the blame on him. Say he ignored safety protocols, went down without clearance, and bypassed the safety locks. Make it sound as bad as possible.” “But some of the guys on his shift actually heard him complain about the equipment…” “So what?” Richard slammed his glass onto the desk, his voice turning deadly cold. “He is buried under tons of rock. The living still need to eat. Change the report.” The manager paused, then whispered, “And what about his family?” “Give them a ten-thousand-dollar settlement,” Richard dismissed. “If she thinks it is too little, tell her to sue. A broke widow with a minor kid. What is she going to do? But keep an eye on the daughter living in our house. Make sure no one leaks this to her.” The heavy drapes pressed hard against my chest. The rough fabric rubbed against the fresh scar on my hand, making my fingers tremble. My father, an honest miner who had worked hard his entire life, didn’t die in an unavoidable accident. He was buried alive because of their greed, and even in death, they were framing him to cover up their own crimes. And the murderer was sitting right behind that mahogany desk, using ten thousand dollars to buy off a man’s life. Two silent, freezing tears rolled down my cheeks, soaking into the drapes. I bit my lip hard, pressing my back against the wall, holding my breath so tightly my lungs burned. “Should we use the old company seal for the signature page?” the manager asked. “Yes,” Richard replied. “Don’t give the other miners too much hush money either, or it’ll look suspicious. The Thomas family is the trickiest part. Keep a close eye on the girl.” Footsteps started moving toward the door. I snapped out of my shock and tried to scramble backward with the heavy drapes. In my panic, my shoulder collided with a warm, solid chest. The drapes slipped from my arms, but before they could hit the floor, a pair of strong arms caught them. I looked up in terror, meeting Ethan’s dark, intense eyes. I didn’t know how long he had been standing behind me. He looked past me at the slightly ajar study door. “What are you doing here?” I quickly forced my tears back, grabbing the drapes back into my arms, my fingers shaking uncontrollably. “Mrs. Vance asked me to bring up the drapes… I got lost.” Ethan stared at my red eyes. His expression was a storm of unreadable emotions. “This is my dad’s study,” he whispered. “I know now.” I kept my head down, not daring to look him in the eyes, and practically ran toward the stairs. Behind us, the conversation in the study stopped. That night, the entire Vance family went out to a charity gala. Even the head housekeeper was called to help. The entire mansion was as empty and silent as a tomb. I waited in my dark room until the sound of their cars faded into the distance. I opened my eyes, reached under my cot, and pulled out a thin piece of wire and a rusty screwdriver. My father had taught me how to use these to bypass simple locks when we lived in the old cabin. Like a cat, I slipped up to the second floor. The lock on Richard’s study was simple. With a soft click, the door swung open. I shut the door behind me. I didn’t dare turn on the lights. Using only the faint moonlight spilling through the window, I crept toward the mahogany desk and pulled at the third drawer on the right. The manager had mentioned that’s where the “special files” were kept. I wiggled the wire into the lock. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird, and my palms were slick with sweat. The lock clicked. The drawer slid open. Inside, there were several thick, leather-bound ledgers. I didn’t mess them up. Instead, I took a photo of how they were arranged with my phone first. Then, I pulled them out one by one. Hidden between the pages of the ledger, I found the accident report sheets with the old company seal. On the liability page, my father’s name, Thomas, was circled heavily in black ink. Right next to it, it read: Cause of death: Employee negligence. Bypassed safety protocols. Solely responsible for the incident. Staring at those words, my fingers dug into the paper. They buried my father in the dark, and then they threw their dirt onto his name. I forced myself to stay calm. I raised my phone and lined up the camera. The accident reports, the forged signatures, the off-the-books bank transfers. I photographed every single page, clear as day. The wind rattled the windowpane outside, and I froze, holding my breath for several agonizing seconds. Once I was sure the yard was empty, I finished taking photos of the last page. I put everything back exactly the way it was. As I locked the drawer back up, the wire caught slightly, almost making a sound. I pressed my palm hard against the wood, slowly easing the lock back into place. Back in my room, I plugged my phone into my laptop. The blue screen light illuminated my pale, cold face. As the photos imported, I created a new encrypted folder. I named it with just a date. The date appeared on the desktop. It looked completely harmless, hiding the explosive secrets within. Once the transfer was complete, I opened the first photo. My father’s name, Thomas, was enlarged on the screen. The black ink looked like a scar on the white paper. I closed the folder and backed up the files to a hidden cloud drive. The laptop fan whirred softly. The Vances weren’t back yet. From that day on, I had a new chore in the Vance house. I began tracking every time Richard entered his study. How many times the mine manager visited. Which way the key turned in the desk lock.

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My best friend invited me and my boyfriend to an amusement park. While we were drinking water, my boyfriend, Ethan, naturally opened the bottle for Chloe first. Chloe smirked playfully. “Failing Boyfriend 101, are we? How could you not open your girlfriend’s first?” Ethan teased her back. “Rainey’s strong enough to twist your head off. She doesn’t need my help.” “Shut up! I’ll twist yours off first!” The two of them started messing around. When we were eating, my best friend accidentally spilled ice cream right onto her chest. Without even thinking, my boyfriend leaned down and licked it off her chest. Chloe was wearing a deep V-neck tank top, and her cleavage was practically spilling out. After carefully licking it clean, Ethan grabbed a tissue to wipe off the spit from her skin. “So clumsy. Be careful next time.” Chloe turned to me and complained: “Hey, Rainey, control your man. He acts like he owns the place. Is he my boyfriend or my dad?” I had been dating Ethan for seven years, and scenes like this had played out countless times. But now, I didn’t want to play along anymore.

After we paid for dinner, Chloe walked out of the restroom. Like a million times before, Ethan was already holding her purse. It was getting dark. Ethan turned to me. “Rainey, take the subway home. I’ll drive Chloe. She lives far away.” Before I could even say a word. Chloe had already opened the passenger door and hopped in. “No need to ask! Rainey worries about me more than you do!” Of course I worried about her. She had been my best friend for ten years. Back in college when we were broke, we even shared a single piece of expired bread. But now, the person who cared about her most wasn’t me. It was Ethan. “Bye, Rainey! We’re off!” Chloe’s cheerful voice faded as the car kicked up a cloud of dust. I got home. Ethan FaceTime-d me. “Rainey, the streets over here are flooded. The car might stall, so I’m not coming back tonight.” I let out a self-deprecating laugh. “So, are you sleeping in the car?” Chloe snatched the phone from Ethan’s hand, her face flushed red as if she had just showered. “He’s staying at my place! Don’t worry, Rainey, he’s totally not my type!” Only then did I notice she was wearing Ethan’s button-up shirt. I hung up. I called the moving company to schedule a time. In the corner of the bathroom, the laundry basket was giving off a faint, sour smell. I walked over with a frown. It was the shirt Ethan wore two nights ago, stained with vomit from when he drank for Chloe at a party. “Why are you guys picking on a young girl? Just because she doesn’t have a boyfriend? I’ll drink for her!” When our college internship ended. Ethan had changed the only full-time return offer on our team from my name to Chloe’s. He said the exact same thing back then. She didn’t have a boyfriend. So, because I had one, I was supposed to let her have everything. I threw the dirty shirt straight into the trash. Dirty clothes get thrown away. And dirty people? They get thrown away too. The next morning. Ethan FaceTime-d me again. “Rainey, bring me a change of clothes on your way to work.” Chloe popped her head into the screen, giggling. “Reporting in, Rainey! Nothing happened last night. But your man snores so loud, like a literal pig. I was in the next room and couldn’t sleep all night. How do you tolerate him? You must love him so much, haha!” “Shut up. Who was the one whimpering like a puppy because of the thunderstorm…” Ethan muttered. I simply replied: “Ethan is not my husband.” The R&D department needed to send two people to Africa for a project. Nobody wanted to go. After the meeting, I went straight to the general manager’s office. She was shocked. “Are you sure? You guys are planning a wedding. Long-distance isn’t great for a relationship.” I looked at the sunlight outside the window. The shadow over my heart cleared up a bit. “We’re not getting married anymore. A career is way more reliable than a man.” When I walked out of her office. The receptionist gave me a sly look and handed me a single rose. “Your boyfriend is so romantic.” I threw it into the trash can. A small card fell out. The familiar logo on it made me realize exactly where the rose came from. It was a freebie from the luxury birthday gift he bought for Chloe. Right on cue, a text from Ethan popped up on my phone. [Happy Birthday!] [Babe, I’ll pick you up tonight. Chloe keeps complaining that it won’t feel like a birthday without you!] My birthday was only one day apart from Chloe’s. Every year, Ethan and I would plan a huge birthday surprise for her. But after her party, he would always complain: “It’s so exhausting, Rainey. Doing this twice would kill me. Why don’t you just celebrate on the same day as Chloe?” But every joint birthday after that. Chloe was always the star of the show.

I didn’t reply to Ethan. I just focused on prepping for my move overseas. During a quick break. I scrolled past Chloe’s Instagram post. [So lucky to have people who remember me every single year! ❤️] It was a carousel of five photos. Each one showed a birthday gift Ethan had given her over the years. A Miu Miu dress, Dior sunglasses, a Chanel handbag… And this year’s gift—a limited-edition Cartier ring. That ring must have cost Ethan three months of his salary. How hilarious. In our seven years together. Ethan had given me plenty of gifts too. Hand-woven flower crowns, knitted scarves… A three-dollar necklace, a four-dollar canvas bag… He always said: “The price tag doesn’t matter, it’s the thought that counts.” “Besides, to keep up appearances for you, I have to buy Chloe the best and most expensive things.” “Don’t you care about Chloe the most?” Thinking about it now, it was just ridiculous. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. The receptionist walked past and smiled. “Getting married soon, huh? Look how happy you are.” I took a sip of my coffee. “I am happy. But I’d be happy even without getting married.” When work ended that evening. Ethan was waiting for me outside the office. Before I could say anything. He impatiently pulled me into the car. “Babe, what took you so long? We’re going to be late.” Before I even opened the passenger door. I saw Chloe sitting in the front seat, her feet propped up on the dashboard, scrolling through her phone. The “Wifey’s Seat” sticker on the dashboard had been half-peeled off by her. Chloe grumbled an explanation: “Don’t look at me, I definitely don’t want to be Ethan’s wife!” “Honestly, I’d rather be his dad!” Ethan shot back immediately: “Watch your mouth! Who are you calling son? Respect your elders, you should be calling me big brother!” He turned to me, completely unfazed. “It’s fine, babe. I can stick another one in the back seat. I’ll buy you a whole pack.” Chloe made a move to get up. “Rainey, are you mad? Fine, I’ll go to the back. Rainey is my favorite anyway!” Ethan pressed her leg down. “Forget it. Since we’re already here, you can just be our little third wheel.” My phone buzzed. It was the movers letting me know everything was packed and moved. I guess it was time to tell Ethan. Tonight, we were going to the place where we had our very first date. Good. Let’s end it where it all started. Looking at all the couples around us, Ethan grabbed my hand and sighed. “On our first date, I was too shy to even touch your hand. And now, we’re about to get married!” Chloe chimed in loudly. “You better thank me, your honorary mother-in-law! Without my master plans, Rainey would’ve never said yes so fast!” “Yeah, yeah. I’ll put you at the head table at the wedding! Happy now?” “Then buy me boba!” “The usual? Black tea with salted cream, 30% sugar, no ice? Don’t you get sick of it? Rainey, what do you want? Chloe and I will go grab it.” Just then, a couple of content creators with cameras walked up to us. “Hey guys! We’re filming a couples’ Q&A for National Couples’ Day. How long have you two been dating?” Ethan looked a bit awkward and pulled me from behind him. “Oh, you have the wrong person. Rainey is my girlfriend.” But Chloe suddenly grabbed Ethan’s hand, holding it tight, her smile brilliant. “Babe, I’m sorry! Don’t try to make me jealous with someone else!” Then, she whispered in a voice only the three of us could hear: “It’s just a TikTok video. I’m the birthday girl today, let me have some fun! Rainey won’t mind!” In front of the camera, their fingers were tightly locked. Chloe talked smoothly about their “relationship details.” Ethan looked at her with a gentle, adoring gaze. They looked so perfect together. The crowd of onlookers pushed me aside. I just smiled, pulled out my phone, and took a picture of their intertwined hands. Ethan. You found me in the crowd, and now you’re returning me to it. Thank God, I don’t love you anymore.

After the interview, Chloe clung to my arm, apologizing. “Rainey, I just thought it was fun. Please don’t be mad at me!” Ethan chimed in: “Yeah, you know how she is. She’s just a wild card. Don’t take it personally, Rainey.” I shook my head. “I’m not mad. In fact, I’m here to break up with you.” A firework exploded in the sky, and Ethan instantly covered Chloe’s ears. He turned his head and yelled over the noise: “What did you say, Rainey?” Before I could repeat myself. Chloe was already dragging him toward the drop tower. I have a massive fear of heights. Every time Ethan wanted to go, I refused. But this time, I suddenly wanted to push myself. Not for anything else. Just to find a bit of courage. The courage to completely walk away from these toxic relationships. There were only two seats left. Ethan smiled and placed Chloe’s hand in mine. “You two are the closest. Go ahead.” I closed my eyes. The next second, Chloe’s blood-curdling scream of “Help!” shattered the night. The operator slammed the emergency stop. Everyone saw it then—her safety harness wasn’t buckled. Chloe was sobbing, shaking violently in her seat. Ethan ran over, his face pale. He scooped Chloe up into his arms, bridal style, and glared at me. “Rainey, how can you be so cruel? You were sitting right next to her! How could you not check her harness? Were you trying to kill her?” Chloe seemed to snap out of it, pushing Ethan’s chest weakly. “Don’t blame her… you know hurting her hurts me too. Ethan, just go!” The hushed whispers of the crowd snapped me back to reality. Ethan sighed. “Fine, whatever you say.” “Rainey, go home first. Chloe’s in bad shape. I need to stay and watch over her.” I took a deep breath. I went home and pulled out the relationship journal Ethan used to write for me. I couldn’t remember the last time he wrote in it. But tonight, I wrote the final entry. “October 14th. We are officially over.” Chloe’s birthday. The day I cut her off. For the next week, I was fully occupied with my relocation paperwork. Ethan didn’t contact me once. Until one evening, he finally called. “Rainey, where’s that heirloom cross necklace my grandmother gave you?” “I’ve searched the whole apartment, and I can’t find it anywhere.” I asked him: “Are you at the apartment?” “Yeah. Chloe’s still having nightmares. I remembered that cross is blessed and brings peace. I want to give it to her to help her sleep.” I was stunned. His mind was entirely consumed by finding a cure for Chloe’s nightmares. He didn’t even notice that all my belongings were gone. That necklace was given to me the first time I met Ethan’s grandmother. She said it was reserved for her future granddaughter-in-law. I was going to return it, but I hadn’t had the chance. Ethan’s voice kept droning on. “Chloe says she’s scared, so I need to rush back to her place.” “Leave work early and go find the necklace. While you’re at it, do the laundry. The clothes in the basket are starting to smell.” “Oh, and don’t forget to grab those donuts Chloe likes from downtown. She’s too stressed to eat anything else.” I summoned the very last bit of my patience. “Ethan, we broke up.” There was a long pause on the other end. “Is this because I carried her at the amusement park?” “Rainey, she almost died! Can you stop making a mountain out of a molehill?” “She didn’t even blame you for not checking her harness!” Seeing that I remained silent, Ethan added: “Alright, Rainey, stop overthinking. Chloe and I love you the most.” Whether they loved me or not, I didn’t care. But I knew one thing: Ethan, you loved her. I hung up and blocked him everywhere.

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On the day Ethan got his big break with a job in the city, he did something he’d never done before. He bought me a massive bag of imported chocolates. It must have cost him at least fifty dollars. Before the chocolate could even melt in my mouth, Ethan looked at me with a serious face. “Only one a day, Lola. By the time you finish them, Serena and I will be back to get you.” Terrified, I spat the chocolate out and grabbed his arm, begging him not to leave me behind. Ethan frowned, his eyes filled with pain. He whispered that his savings were only enough to get one person settled in the city. Serena was an orphan. He couldn’t let her feel abandoned again. Ethan gently stroked my hair and made a promise. “One year, Lola. I swear I’ll come back, take you to the city, and get you the best doctors.” But after they left, the whole town started whispering. They said Ethan took Serena to the city to live the high life, and that he had abandoned his useless, dumb sister for good. I didn’t believe them. I sat by the dusty road entrance every single day, waiting. The local creeps in town started teasing me. They said if I agreed to marry one of them, Ethan would definitely come back to attend my wedding. When I screamed and said no, they beat me. I dragged myself home, bruised and crying. The pain was so bad that I couldn’t help but eat three chocolates at once. I just wanted Ethan to come back faster. If he was here, he would protect me and punish them. Then, Chloe noticed my belly was growing bigger day by day. She gently touched my swollen stomach, her eyes filled with horror. “Lola… you’re pregnant. Who did this to you?” My head throbbed with a blinding pain. I couldn’t find the words to explain. Chloe held me tight and sobbed for hours. When Ethan finally got the news through a letter, his only reply was cold: “If anyone in town is willing to take responsibility, just let Lola marry him.” But I was already the town’s joke, despised and tormented. I couldn’t survive the brutal labor, and I died giving birth in a cold, dark room.

When I opened my eyes again, I was still standing by the dusty road entrance, waiting for Ethan and Serena just like I did every day. The only difference was that those creeps didn’t bother me anymore. They didn’t even look at me. It was only when they gathered near the old gas station to smoke that I could hear their muffled laughter, and it sounded like they were talking about me. I drifted closer to listen. “Lola was crazy, sure, but she was easily the prettiest girl in this godforsaken town.” “Lucky for us she was slow. Otherwise, her brother would’ve taken her to the city long ago.” “Yeah, and thank god Ethan wasn’t here. She ended up dying in Luke’s house anyway.” “As long as we keep our mouths shut, nobody can pin it on us.” They rambled on, using words too complicated for my mind. But I understood one thing clearly. They said Ethan left me behind because he thought I was stupid. I puffed out my cheeks and yelled at them angrily: “Ethan never thought I was stupid! He told me so!” “Just you wait! When Ethan comes back, I’m going to tell him everything! He will make you pay!” When evening came, I walked past the desolate cemetery on the hill. I saw Chloe holding my old mason jar, looking busy. She took the remaining chocolates from the jar and placed them gently, one by one, on a small dirt mound next to my parents’ tombstones. She even hammered a small wooden cross into the dirt, carefully carving the name: Lola Carter. I sat next to her and giggled. “Chloe is the smartest and prettiest girl ever. Your handwriting is so beautiful.” “Now that my name is on it, no one will steal my chocolates, right?” Chloe didn’t answer me. She turned around and slowly poured a handful of greyish-white ashes into the empty mason jar. She begged Ned, a townsperson who was heading to the city for business, to deliver the jar to Ethan no matter what. My eyes went wide with excitement. “You’re going to see Ethan? Can I come this time?” Chloe still didn’t look at me. But at least she didn’t stop me. “Since you’re quiet, I’ll take that as a yes!” I was thrilled. I skipped along behind Ned all the way to the city. Ned shoved the mason jar into Ethan’s hands, muttered “I’m so sorry for your loss,” and hurried away. Ethan held the familiar jar, standing on the bustling city street, looking completely lost. I happily threw myself at him for a hug, but my body passed right through him. Serena, looking elegant and stylish, walked out of their apartment and asked softly: “What is it, Ethan?” Ethan frowned, staring at the jar in his hands. “Isn’t this Lola’s jar?” “That guy just told me he was sorry for my loss and ran off. Did something happen to Lola?” Since moving to the city, Serena had painted her nails a beautiful bright red, and she wore shiny silver bracelets on her wrists. She looked so pretty. She giggled and took the jar from his hands. “Ethan, you know how Lola is.” “She probably ate all the chocolates and begged Ned to bring her precious jar to you, just to trick you into buying her more.” “You can’t keep spoiling her like this.” “Besides, she’s about to be a mother. Too much sugar isn’t good for the baby.” Hearing her words, tears welled up in my eyes. I pointed at my flat stomach and screamed: “Ethan, I didn’t! I saved the chocolates because I was scared you’d be mad! I put them back!” “And the baby is gone, Ethan… eating candy won’t hurt anymore…” “I just missed you and Serena. I just wanted to see you.” But Ethan didn’t look at me. He couldn’t hear a thing. He seemed to notice something and said, “The jar feels a bit heavy. Is there something inside?” In fact, Serena had already opened the jar when Ethan wasn’t looking and saw the letter tucked inside. She shook her head smoothly. “Nothing. Just some dirt. You know how she likes to collect random things.” With that, she walked over to the corner of the yard and poured the grey ashes onto the soil beneath a tree, using it as fertilizer. The grey dust instantly buried the letter deep underground. Ethan sighed, looking a bit guilty. “Do you think I was too hasty in letting Lola get married?” Serena took Ethan’s hand, her voice sweet and reassuring. “Ethan, Lola had to grow up eventually. You couldn’t protect her forever.” “Now that the knot is tied, making a scene will only ruin her reputation.” “Isn’t it better for her to be married to a normal man than to live alone?” “Besides, Lola’s mind is… confused. It’s only natural she made a mistake and got pregnant without knowing any better.” “The list of names in that old rumors letter was just gossip. There’s no proof those men actually did anything. Why overthink it?” “If I hadn’t stopped you last time, the whole town would know she got pregnant out of wedlock. That would have truly ruined her life.” Ethan was silenced by her logic. He finally nodded, letting out a long breath. “If I hadn’t given her the wrong medication when we were kids, her brain wouldn’t have burned up like that. She wouldn’t be this way.” “I’m just… terrified of her being hurt.” Just then, a middle-aged man walked into the yard, looking cheerful. “Ethan! The factory approved your family leave!” “Hurry up and head back. Go bring your sister to the city for her medical checkup.”

I followed Ethan all the way back to our small town. Those same creeps were still hanging out near the old gas station. I pointed at them and yelled to Ethan: “They hit me! Ethan, they hit me!” Sure enough, when those guys saw Ethan, they looked terrified and tried to scatter. But Ethan blocked their path. Instead of pulling out his fists, he reached into his bag and pulled out several family-sized bags of expensive chocolates. “Lola’s wedding was rushed, and I couldn’t make it back in time to help,” Ethan said, a polite smile on his face. “I heard you all helped out at my brother-in-law’s place on the wedding day. Thank you for your hard work.” “Take these. Consider it a thank-you gift from me.” He began handing out the chocolates to them one by one. My eyes turned red with anger. I tried to knock the chocolates out of his hands, but my fingers just passed through the air. Serena also smiled and helped hand them out. When only a few chocolates were left, Ethan gently stopped her. He whispered to Serena, “Lola loves these. Let’s save the rest to satisfy her sweet tooth.” But I didn’t want any chocolates. I pointed at those ugly faces, crying out my pain: “Luke slapped me and tied me up with ropes!” “Zach and Wes stuffed rags in my mouth so I couldn’t scream! They beat me every time I cried!” “They said if I didn’t want to marry Luke, they would beat me until I did…” “Ethan, why aren’t you protecting me anymore?” I sobbed, staring at him, but he still wouldn’t look at me. I was so frustrated that I scratched my arms, leaving deep red marks. In the past, if Ethan saw me scratch myself, he would cry from heartbreak. But now, he didn’t even turn his head. Behind us, the creeps burst into mocking laughter. Wes, the leader, smirked and called out: “Ethan, you’ve got some real patience. We respect that.” Ethan frowned, not quite catching the sarcasm in his tone. Before he could ask, Serena pushed him toward our old house. Wes popped a chocolate into his mouth and stared at Ethan’s back, muttering: “Does Ethan really not know the crazy girl is dead?” One of his lackeys sneered. “Didn’t Chloe send him a letter?” “He’s probably just a coward. He sees there are more of us and doesn’t dare to start a fight.” “Or maybe he wanted that useless sister dead anyway. She was just a burden.” “Look at that gorgeous girl Serena next to him. They aren’t even blood-related. If you were him, wouldn’t you prefer her?” Hearing their words, I forgot how to cry. So… Ethan was tired of me. I followed him home quietly, keeping my distance. When we pushed the door open, the house was a complete mess. The chicken coop was empty, with only a few feathers scattered on the ground. Ethan sighed. “Lola really didn’t listen to a word I said.” But I did listen… I took care of the five chickens Ethan left behind, feeding them three times a day. They grew into big, fat hens and laid so many eggs. But Luke said that since he married me, everything in the house belonged to him. He said if I didn’t let him take them, he would burn our house down. Before Mom died, she told me this house had to be kept for Ethan’s future wedding. I didn’t dare let him burn it. So I just huddled in the corner, watching Luke strip the house bare, not even daring to make a sound. “Ethan… you guys are back?” Chloe stood at the gate, her face deadly pale. Ethan hid his disappointment and forced a smile. “Chloe, is Lola at her husband’s place?” “Could you call her back for me? Tell her I’m not mad at her anymore. She doesn’t need to hide.” Chloe gripped the doorframe so hard her knuckles turned white. Her voice trembled violently. “Ethan… did Ned not give you the mason jar?” “Lola… she died weeks ago.”

“Chloe, Lola was slow, but how can you make up a sick joke like this?” Serena interrupted, her face tight. Before Chloe could speak, Serena stepped forward, forced a stack of bills into Chloe’s hand, and whispered sharply: “If Lola doesn’t want to come back tonight, that’s fine.” “Take this money and give it to your father. Ask him to help us organize a town barbecue tomorrow.” “Since Lola got married, we should at least throw a nice reception for the town to make things right.” Chloe opened her mouth, but looking at the money, she swallowed her words, gripped the bills, and walked away in silence. The next day, Chloe’s family arrived. When they saw the backyard decorated with bright red roses and ribbons, they froze in shock. Chloe’s father spoke with a stutter, his voice shaking with anger: “Ethan… is this party really for Lola?” Ethan, busy hanging up a red banner, smiled and nodded. “Yes. I wasn’t here when she got married, and I’ve felt terrible about it.” “Lola has her… issues. As her family, we should pay for this reception to show our appreciation to her husband’s family. It’s the right thing to do.” Before he could finish, Chloe’s father began to tremble with rage. He threw the money hard onto the ground and turned on his heel. At the gate, he spat out bitterly: “Everyone in this town knows why Lola ended up the way she did.” “You went to the city and lost your damn mind, didn’t you? Helping the Millers throw a party after what they did? You’re going to burn in hell, Ethan Carter!” With that, Chloe’s family stormed off. Serena chased after them, grabbing Chloe’s arm, demanding an explanation. Chloe pointed toward the cemetery on the hill, tears streaming down her face. “Lola is dead! Luke Miller tortured her to death! Both she and the baby are buried in the dirt right now!” “You didn’t come back to protect her, you pushed her into that hellhole instead!” “And now that she’s gone, you’re helping the Millers celebrate? What kind of sick brother are you?!” Serena stumbled back into the yard, her face white. Ethan was busy washing the grill. He muttered angrily, “I don’t know what’s wrong with that family. If they don’t want the money, we’ll find someone else to cater!” Serena opened her mouth, trembling, but before she could speak, a loud commotion came from the front gate. It was a sound I knew all too well. “It’s the bad guys from the gas station! They’re here to steal our things again!” I hid behind Ethan, but he stood up with a warm smile to welcome them. The man leading them was Luke Miller. With the other creeps cheering him on, Luke walked up to Ethan, acting meek, and muttered, “Long time no see.” Ethan looked past him, searching for me. When he saw no one, disappointment flashed in his eyes. “Is Lola still mad at me for coming back late? Is she refusing to see me?” Realizing Ethan was completely in the dark, Luke’s attitude changed instantly. Seeing more townspeople gathering, he pulled Serena out of the yard. Scared he would hurt her, I quickly followed them. Once out of Ethan’s sight, Luke sneered and shoved his hand out. “Where is the monthly cash you promised?” “Pay up, or I’ll tell Ethan that you are my biological sister, Serena Miller. Let’s see if he still keeps you in his fancy city apartment after that!” I froze. Serena’s real brother… was Luke, the monster who tormented me. Serena slapped his hand away in disgust. “You have the nerve to ask for money?” “Lola died weeks ago! How dare you keep that from me!” Luke scratched his head, looking bored. “You told me to marry her and keep her locked up in this town so she couldn’t go to the city. You didn’t say I couldn’t touch her.” “Besides, she was weak. She died during labor after just a few times. Who knows whose bastard she was carrying anyway?” Serena’s body shook with pure rage. She slapped him hard across the face. “She was pregnant, you idiot! How could you treat her like that?!” Enraged, Luke grabbed Serena by the throat, pinning her against the wall. “Other women survive pregnancy just fine! She was just fragile! She deserved to die!” “And who cares about the baby? They were both useless baggage!” I screamed at him, begging him to let her go, but it was useless. Nobody could hear me. Luke growled a threat, telling Serena she had to pay him before she left for the city, or he would expose her. Just then, Ethan’s cold voice rang out from behind them: “Luke… what the hell are you talking about?”

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On my roommate Daisy’s birthday, she did something unbelievable. She didn’t just bring a creepy older man back to the tiny studio we shared. She actually tried to force me to watch a sex tape of the two of them. And to make matters worse, that disgusting old man didn’t just want Daisy—he had his creepy eyes on me, too. When I rejected his advances, Daisy went on TikTok and started spreading rumors that I was trying to steal her man. Honestly, it’s hilarious. What exactly am I supposed to be jealous of? His short height? His empty bank account? Or his musty old-man smell? With graduation behind us, we both decided to take a gap semester to prep for our upcoming SAT retakes. To save money, Daisy and I rented a tiny studio apartment near our prep center. It didn’t take long for me to notice Daisy acting strange. Almost every other day, she was downstairs by the apartment gate, cuddling and acting all touchy-feely with this creepy, older guy. When I finally asked her about him, her face flushed bright red, and she sheepishly admitted they were dating. Before I could even offer a polite, “Oh, nice,” Daisy cut in eagerly. “Chloe, today is my birthday. Can I bring Gary up to our room tonight? Just for a little bit?” “He’ll just sit with me for a few minutes. We’ll just talk, I swear. I just want him to spend my birthday with me.” Our rented studio was microscopic. There was literally only one bed and a single desk chair. If Gary came in, I would literally die of awkwardness. I’d be forced to sit right there on the same bed while they flirted. Without a second thought, I shook my head. “No. Absolutely not.” Daisy’s face immediately fell, and she snapped. “Chloe, don’t be so selfish! I pay half the rent here. Why can’t my boyfriend come in?” “Are you just jealous because I actually have a boyfriend and you don’t?” Realizing there was no arguing with her logic, I just shrugged and went cold. “I said no. I don’t want a strange man in our room. What are you going to do about it? Kill me?” Seeing that I wouldn’t budge, Daisy stomped out, slamming the door behind her. That evening, I was sitting in the evening prep class at our SAT center. To my horror, Daisy actually dragged Gary into the classroom to sit with her. They sat just diagonally in front of me. If I didn’t know any better, I would have sworn Gary was her dad coming to check on her grades. Every time I looked up at the whiteboard, my eyes would catch the two of them shamelessly making out. It got worse as the class went on. They were making so much noise. Everyone in the room was visibly uncomfortable, but because of basic social boundaries, no one said anything. Seeing that no one was stopping them, Gary got even bolder, sliding his hands all over her. The forty-five-minute lecture felt longer than my entire life. When we got back to the apartment that night, Daisy proudly showed off a set of sexy lingerie Gary had bought her. Honestly, it was so skimpy it barely qualified as clothing. My gut told me this Gary guy was bad news. Trying to be a good friend, I delicately tried to warn her. “Daisy, think about it. Why do you think guys his age don’t date women their own age? It’s because women his age are too smart to fall for his BS. They only target younger, naive girls because they’re easy to manipulate. Older guys who are still single and acting like this are usually walking red flags.” Daisy rolled her eyes so hard I thought they’d get stuck. “You’re just sour because you can’t get a guy. I like older men. He’s mature, stable, and has life experience. Boys our age can’t even compare.” Well, I tried. If she wanted to ignore good advice, that was her problem. That night, I had a horrible nightmare. I dreamed Gary snuck into our room. He pinned Daisy against the wall, groaning. In my dream, Daisy giggled. “Stop it, Chloe is right there.” Gary gave a wicked smirk. “Who cares? She’s fast asleep.” … The next morning, I gasped and sat bolt upright in bed, heart pounding. My eyes widened in pure horror. There, lying on the floor right next to my bed, were Daisy and Gary. I stared, praying it was just a hallucination. I pinched my thigh hard. It hurt. It wasn’t a dream. Daisy had actually let Gary sneak into our room while I was asleep! They had actually… right next to me while I was sleeping. At that moment, I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

I pretended to still be asleep until Gary finally left. The moment the door clicked shut, Daisy shook me awake, practically bursting with excitement to show me a video she had recorded of them last night on her Snapchat. I glanced at the screen for two seconds and felt like I needed to wash my eyes with bleach. I immediately started packing my bags, trying my absolute best not to scream at her. “Daisy, pay me your half of the deposit. I’m moving out. You and that old creep can have this place.” “No! You can’t leave!” Daisy grabbed my arm tightly. “Who’s going to keep me on track with studying if you leave? I still want to get into a good college!” “Chloe, we’re best friends. How can you be so selfish? You’re only thinking about yourself, not me!” I let out a cold laugh. “Do you honestly care about college?” Daisy begged and pleaded, swearing up and down that she would never, ever let Gary inside our room again. She even wrote out a signed promise on a piece of paper. Since our landlord wouldn’t refund my deposit anyway, and I couldn’t find another cheap place close to the prep center, I decided to tolerate her one last time. I needed to focus on my exams. For the next few weeks, Daisy kept her word. Gary didn’t come back inside. However, to stay close to her, Gary rented a tiny room right across the hall from us. The walls in this building were paper-thin. Almost every night, I could hear disgusting, muffled noises coming from across the hall. A week later, Daisy got a frantic call from her parents. Her grandfather back in rural Oregon was terminally ill, and she needed to catch the next flight home to say goodbye. Crying hysterically, she packed her bags and left for the airport. With Daisy gone, my life became incredibly peaceful. Except for the fact that Gary was still living across the hall. We kept bumping into each other in the corridor. On Saturday, we didn’t have prep classes. I slept in from afternoon until evening, and around 8 PM, I decided to head downstairs to grab some takeout. The moment I stepped out of my door, I ran right into Gary. Unlike his usual creepy silence, Gary actually smiled and initiated a conversation. “Hey, Chloe, right? Daisy mentioned your name. Where are you going so late?” “It’s pretty dangerous for a pretty girl to be out alone at night. How about I walk with you and keep you safe?” “I don’t mean anything by it. You’re Daisy’s best friend, so naturally, I care about your safety.” Though Gary tried to look like a harmless, nice guy, every time I looked at his face, I pictured him and Daisy from that horrific night. It made my stomach churn. I shook my head, keeping my voice polite but cold. “No, thank you. I’m meeting a friend.” Gary’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he kept that greasy smile on his face. “Alright then, go have fun with your friend.” “But hey, you’ll probably want something to drink while you’re out. I just bought two cold coffees from the convenience store. Here, take one.” “Don’t be shy. You help Daisy study all the time. Think of it as me thanking you on her behalf.” Before I could protest, Gary shoved a canned coffee into my hands and walked away. Not wanting to cause a scene, I held onto it. Once I got downstairs, I grabbed a bowl of noodles and headed straight back to my room. Remembering how creepy he was, there was no way in hell I was drinking anything he gave me. I tossed the can onto my desk. As I ate my noodles, I opened TikTok and started scrolling. The algorithm popped up a “People You May Know” profile. The username was @Romeo_Dream. Curiosity got the better of me. I tapped on the profile. He had just posted a new video an hour ago. The caption read: What should I do when I’m in love with two girls at the same time? I’m losing sleep over this.

In the comment section, a user had commented: Nothing to lose sleep over. Just pick the one who fits your needs better. The creator (@Romeo_Dream) replied: One is my girlfriend, sweet and pure like a white lily. The other is her roommate—hot, wild, and gorgeous like a red rose. Every time I see her, my heart races. Honestly, compared to my girlfriend, I feel like the roommate and I are a match made in heaven. She’s about 5’7″, and I’m 5’5″. I’m seven years older than her, a hard-working construction guy making $3,500 a month. That’s more than enough to provide for her. How do I win over this red rose? Any tips? I almost choked on my noodles. Making $3,500 a month and he’s already trying to cheat? The audacity. Thankfully, the internet comments were brutal. Are you seriously choosing? What do these girls see in you? Your height? Your empty wallet? Or your musty old-man smell? Desire is human nature, but self-control is class. You have a girlfriend and you’re drooling over her roommate? You’re like a stray dog in heat. Cheap and pathetic. Any college guy she finds will be ten times better than you. Stop dreaming, you ugly troll. Reading these comments made me feel incredibly satisfied. But then, a user named @Alpha_Mindset left a comment: If you want to get her, you need to create “accidents.” Find a way to get her pregnant. Once she’s carrying your kid, her parents will beg you to marry her. You won’t even have to buy an engagement ring or pay for a wedding. I couldn’t believe how sick and twisted some people could be. A mob of angry users started replying and bashing @Alpha_Mindset, but he didn’t care. He just kept egging the creator on to take action. I didn’t even need to click his profile to know exactly what kind of bitter, lonely incel he was. But my satisfaction turned to absolute horror when I saw the creator’s reply. @Alpha_Mindset, I like how you think. Actually, I cornered her outside her door tonight. She looked so flustered and excited when she saw me, though she tried to play hard to get. I grabbed the chance to give her a coffee spiked with a little “special ingredient.” Once she drinks it, she’ll be carrying my baby in no time. My heart stopped. I checked the creator’s location. It was in my exact neighborhood. Connecting all the dots… as much as I didn’t want to believe it, @Romeo_Dream was definitely Gary! My hands started shaking. What “special ingredient” did he put in there? I stared at the coffee can on my desk. Upon closer inspection, the tab had been slightly tampered with. Realizing what it was, I grabbed the can and threw it across the room. It slammed into the far wall. I ran to the bathroom and scrubbed my hands with soap and sanitizer about ten times, my skin turning bright red. This was disgusting! My first instinct was to add his Snapchat and scream at him, but then I stopped. A delusional, narcissistic creep like Gary… if I provoked him, there was no telling what extreme things he might do. With Daisy gone, I was completely alone in this apartment. It was dangerous. I lost my appetite completely. I kept refreshing the comments, my chest tight with anxiety. The internet was still ripping Gary to shreds. You have nothing, yet you don’t appreciate what you have. Let your girlfriend go, she deserves better. This is disgusting. The roommate hit the absolute worst luck running into you. Did you skip biology class? You think drinking something gets a girl pregnant? Do you think her stomach connects to her uterus? Lmao, his IQ perfectly matches his creepy face. But then, a new comment from @Alpha_Mindset made my blood run cold. Hey idiot, whatever you put in her drink won’t get her pregnant. It’ll just digest in her stomach. If you want to lock her down, just break into her room tonight while it’s dark. Take her virginity. Girls never forget their first. Once the deed is done, she’s yours. She won’t have a choice. How could anyone be this evil? This @Alpha_Mindset guy didn’t even know me, yet he was actively plotting to ruin my life. A second later, Gary liked the comment and replied with three rose emojis. Panic seized me. A lunatic like Gary might actually try it. I had rented this place because it was right next to the public library, which made studying convenient. But now, staying here was a literal threat to my life. I grabbed my phone and charger, deciding to head back to my dorm on campus tonight. I’d have a friend come back with me tomorrow to pack my things. I walked to the door and slowly turned the deadbolt. BANG! BANG! BANG! The door suddenly shook violently. From the other side, Gary’s muffled, greasy voice echoed through the wood. “Chloe? Are you in there? I see the light under your door. Open up, I need to talk to you about something.”

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Three years into being Lucas’s secret lover, I got pregnant. That night, I braved the pouring rain to surprise him at the bar where he was partying. Instead, I heard him and his twin brother laughing inside the VIP room. “If Scarlett found out on her birthday that she had been sleeping with random guys for three years like a cheap whore, would she lose her mind on the spot?” “More than that. I will use her ‘cheating’ as an excuse to demand Alexander demote her to a low-ranking Omega. She has only herself to blame for bullying Chloe.” So three years of sweet romance was nothing but a revenge trap Lucas set for Chloe. Even every intimate moment was just a calculated identity swap between the twins. But they had no idea. Chloe was the real bully. A year later, when I became the mate of Alpha Ethan, they begged for my forgiveness on their knees. I only smiled. “Too late. I have been reborn. And you will burn in hell forever.” Scarlett POV The day my pregnancy test came back positive, I braved a massive storm to go to the bar where Lucas was partying. Outside the VIP room, I took a towel from the waiter, wiped my soaking wet hair, and waited to surprise him when the party ended. Through the slightly open door, a laughing male voice drifted out. “Lucas, your birthday party with Scarlett is in a week. Got the surprise ready?” “Of course,” Lucas’s cold, deep voice was laced with alcohol. “I’ll give her a night she’ll never forget.” My hand froze on the towel. I couldn’t help but smile. In our three years together, even though he hadn’t marked me yet, he had treated me like a princess, spoiling me to my bones. “If Scarlett finds out I’ve been pretending to be you and sleeping with her all this time, will she go completely insane?” “I bet that stupid girl would never guess in a million years that Lucas has an identical twin brother, Liam!” “Isn’t she always so high and mighty? If she finds out she’s been shared by you two for three years, I can’t wait to see the look on her face.” The malicious laughter made me freeze on the spot. I couldn’t believe my ears. I took a step forward, peering through the crack of the door. In the next second, I saw a man sitting next to Lucas who looked exactly like him. From his face to his hair, even the tiny mole under his eye was identical! The man smirked, leaning back lazily on the couch. “She brought this on herself for bullying Chloe. Chloe is Lucas’s sweetheart. To punish Scarlett and drag her down to hell at her peak, Lucas really put in the work.” His friends, who were usually so nice to me, chimed in with sneers. “Liam, you’re the one who worked hard. You did all the heavy lifting in bed these past few years!” “Man, if I looked like Lucas, I’d have taken a turn too!” “Right? Scarlett has the face and the body. If she goes crazy after the birthday party, why don’t you pass her down to us?” “Lucas came up with this plan for Chloe and acted for three years without even touching Scarlett himself. What a loyal man!” Lucas. Liam. Chloe. My head spun, my blood freezing in my veins. I couldn’t breathe. My body trembled uncontrollably, tears spilling from my eyes. The love I thought was heaven was actually a sick trap. A trap designed to avenge Chloe, the real bully. I remembered waking up from nightmares of Chloe’s torment, and Lucas holding me, whispering that I didn’t need to be afraid. I remembered telling him about my past trauma, and him soothing me over and over. He even had the pack healer brew special ointment to fade my scars. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to. Those moments of love felt so real. How could they be a lie? The voices inside the room continued. “Chloe is coming back soon. Lucas, you won’t have to keep slipping out every week anymore!” “After three years of playing role-play, I can finally be myself! Every time Lucas was out of town, I was the one comforting Scarlett.” Liam sneered. “Your voices are different. She never noticed?” Liam scoffed. “That dumb bitch? I kept my voice low and told her my throat was sore. Every single time, she’d fuss over me and wake up at dawn to brew me soup!” Another burst of roaring laughter. Lucas cut them off. “Enough. Once the party is over, I’ll apply to Alpha Alexander to have her demoted to a low-ranking Omega and assign her to the hardest labor. But you guys better behave yourselves until then.” “Lucas, you’re not getting soft on her, are you?” My heart squeezed. I held my breath, staring intently at the handsome man. After two seconds, he let out a cold snort. “Are you kidding me?” “What about Liam? You’ve been sleeping with her for three years. Didn’t catch feelings?” Lucas turned to Liam. Liam shook his head violently. “Three years? I got sick of her a long time ago. Lucas, why don’t you take a turn?” Lucas sneered. “No thanks. Too dirty.” “Alright, anyway, she’s still a pack member. Alexander hates seeing pack members mistreated.” “Let’s drop it. I need you guys to help me prep.” “In a week, right after we expose her, I’m going to propose to Chloe!”

Scarlett POV I didn’t even know how I left the bar. Heavy rain beat down on my body, but I didn’t care. Only the words from the VIP room echoed in my mind over and over. Chloe. Just the thought of that name made my entire body shake. I didn’t understand. She had already left to study abroad. Why wouldn’t she let me go? Why was she so obsessed with destroying me? Just because someone once said I was prettier than her, Chloe and her friends cornered me and used every cruel method to torture me. Because I refused to apologize to her, I lived in hell for the next three years. She beat me and poured silver powder into my open wounds to prevent them from healing. She even arranged for rich pack guys to pursue me, plotting to capture naked photos of me just to watch me fall. Chloe never succeeded. Even after she left the pack, she hadn’t managed to break me completely. But back then, my body was covered in scars, and I was getting weaker by the day. That was when Lucas appeared. He was the brother of Alpha Alexander and the captain of the Ironroot Pack’s elite guard. He looked at me with kind eyes, took the time to understand my struggles, and listened to my needs. Knowing my parents were dead and that I lived with my grandmother, he never looked down on me. Instead, he did everything he could to help. He would sit and eat dinner with me after work, gently patting my head. “Scarlett, you’ve had it rough. You’re doing amazing.” Once, Grandma Ruth fell ill while I was at the other side of the territory caring for the pack pups. Lucas happened to pass by, found her, and rushed her to the healer. When I hurried back, he smiled and comforted me. “Grandma is fine, don’t worry. Don’t push yourself too hard.” At that moment, a voice in my heart told me: “He’s the one. Trust him. No matter the ending, cherish the present.” Later, I became his secret lover, a role I played for three years. I thought he loved me. He was always so clean-cut, and there were never any other women around him. But now, Liam’s mocking laughter played in my head. “She’s so stupid. How could she think an Alpha’s brother would actually fall for a wolf-less reject? Just a little acting and basic care, and she was completely touched.” “So stupid. Three years and she never noticed.” “So stupid, still thinking Lucas is devoted to her.” “So stupid, so stupid, so stupid…” I collapsed in the rain, my tears mixing with the downpour. I was so stupid. I was… so damn stupid. I threw my head back and laughed maniacally, letting the freezing rain pelt my face. Right then, someone mind-linked me. It was Sarah. Luna Signe had established a system where the pack took care of the elderly wolfs in a nursing facility. After Ruth got sick three years ago, she moved into the pack facility. Sarah was one of the caregivers there. “Scarlett, come quick! Ruth is dying!” My head buzzed. My mind went blank, and my limbs went completely numb. By pure instinct, I scrambled up from the ground and rushed to the road to hail a car. But every car sped past, honking loudly. If only I could shift, none of this would have happened. My wolf whimpered inside me. I shook my head in agony. “No, it’s my fault. If I had been stronger and hadn’t sealed your power for fear of being kicked out, we wouldn’t be here.” I wasn’t actually born without a wolf. I was an Alpha’s daughter. I was terrified that if I revealed my true power, Alpha Alexander of the Ironroot Pack would see me as a threat and exile me. No Alpha would tolerate an outsider who was stronger than them. They would see it as a threat and eliminate it at all costs. So, I sealed my own wolf and quietly endured Chloe’s bullying. But now, I regretted it. Submitting didn’t bring peace. It didn’t even let me see my grandmother one last time. Just as I was about to run all the way back to the Packhouse, a black SUV pulled over. A stern-looking man asked where I was going. Disregarding my safety, I jumped in. By the time I reached the pack nursing home, the healer had already issued a critical notice. “The Moon Goddess is calling her. Spend these last moments with her.” I fell to my knees, taking Ruth’s trembling, cold hand. Ruth forced a smile. “Scarlett… don’t cry… I’m sorry, I couldn’t make it to your birthday…” I shook my head violently. I couldn’t speak, only let out choked, agonizing sobs. Ruth’s eyes strained to look around. “Where’s Lucas… I want to see him…” “Okay.” I tried to mind-link Lucas, but I couldn’t reach him. I pulled out my phone and dialed his number over and over. Each call went straight to voicemail. I desperately typed out messages. “Lucas, Grandma is in heart failure. She’s running out of time. Please come, she wants to see you one last time.” “Lucas, Ruth is waiting for you. Just for a minute, can you please come?” “Lucas, I’m begging you…” My trembling fingers flew across the screen, my tears splashing onto the glass. At this moment, the lies and deception didn’t matter. As long as Lucas came to let Grandma pass in peace, nothing else mattered. But there was no reply. I stopped texting, forced the best smile I could, and squeezed Grandma’s hand to comfort her. “Grandma, Lucas is caught up with some pack business, but don’t worry, we are doing great…” “Grandma, I’m going to be very happy… You don’t have to worry about me…” Ruth’s grip suddenly tightened. She stared at me. “Scarlett… live well… be happy…” “Don’t be sad. I am just… returning to the Moon Goddess.” Her hand went limp. The final look in her eyes was filled with worry. I stared at my empty palm, then collapsed to the floor, crying my heart out. That night, I handled Ruth’s funeral arrangements alone. Lucas never replied. While waiting, I unblocked Chloe on Snapchat and checked her story. “I planned to come back early to surprise him, but I was the one who got surprised instead!” The photo was at the airport. Lucas was holding a huge bouquet of flowers, smiling warmly with gentle eyes. There was another photo of the two of them. She was smiling sweetly, and Lucas was looking at her sideways, his eyes filled with absolute adoration. My heart died completely. I locked my screen. The next day at noon, I returned to my apartment holding Ruth’s ashes. Two things happened. First, I fell down the stairs due to exhaustion and dizziness. I lost the baby. Second, I decided to leave the pack. I submitted my request to Luna Signe. Wolf packs have strict rules. Leaving or joining requires official approval. Because my grandmother belonged to the Ironroot Pack, I had never sworn personal allegiance to Alpha Alexander. Now that Ruth had returned to the Moon Goddess, it was time for me to leave. Luna Signe looked at me in shock. “Isn’t Lucas throwing you a birthday party? Why are you suddenly leaving?” I was quiet for a second. “The party is canceled. I need to leave, as soon as possible.” Signe sighed. “Is it because of your grandmother? I’m so sorry, sweetie. She was a gentle and kind lady. We will all miss her.” “Thank you, Luna Signe. I appreciate everything you and Alpha Alexander did for me.” “Alright, since you’ve made up your mind. But please wait one week. We need Alexander’s signature, and he’ll be back then.” I nodded, understanding. One week. That would be the exact day of the birthday party Lucas planned for me. I wouldn’t just leave that day. I was going to leave them a massive present they would never forget.

Scarlett POV Since I knew I was never coming back, I decided to bury Ruth. I bought a small pendant, placed a lock of Ruth’s hair and a pinch of her ashes inside, and buried the rest in the pack cemetery. Kneeling before her gravestone, I clutched the pendant. “Grandma, don’t worry. I am going to do what I want now. I’ll protect myself.” It was evening when I returned to my apartment. As soon as I walked in, I heard laughter. Ruth and I didn’t live in the main Packhouse. We lived in a small, quiet cottage further away. It was usually very silent. As I walked in, confused, Lucas spotted me. He quickly walked over and pulled me inside. “Come, let me introduce you to some friends.” A man and a woman stood up from the couch. They turned to look at me, their eyes gleaming with mockery. It was Chloe and Liam. My body began to shake slightly. It was a physical reaction from years of Chloe’s bullying. But that didn’t mean I was afraid of her. Lucas smiled. “Chloe is my childhood friend, and Liam is my twin brother. They just got back, right in time for your birthday party.” Chloe waved at me, smiling sweetly. “Scarlett and I already know each other. From the training grounds.” With that, she rushed over and grabbed my arm, whispering in my ear. “Right, Scarlett?” Flashbacks of my torment flooded my mind. Every time she finished beating me, she would whisper those exact words. “Just a little girl-talk, right, Scarlett?” Instinctively, I flinched and shoved Chloe away. Chloe fell to the floor, looking completely victimized. “Scarlett, do you still hate me? I just wanted to get along with you.” The twins’ expressions instantly darkened. Lucas rushed to pull Chloe up, his eyes glaring at me. Liam frowned. “Lucas, is your lover always this arrogant?” Lucas shielded Chloe behind his back, his voice cold and furious. “Scarlett, apologize!” I looked at the three of them, my fists clenching at my sides. Thinking about what I had heard at the bar, my heart felt like it was being ripped out. I silently turned to leave. But after two steps, Lucas grabbed my wrist tightly, pulling me back so hard I stumbled. I looked up into his eyes, which were burning with anger. “Who said you could leave?” Liam said coldly, “An Alpha’s family values rules, Lucas. Your girl needs to learn some discipline.” “You’re right.” Lucas’s eyes were icy. “Scarlett, as my girlfriend, you must watch your behavior. You need to reflect on what you did today.” With that, he dragged me down to the basement. Before I could react, he slammed the heavy wooden door shut. The door sealed shut, blocking out all light. I was surrounded by old boxes and pitch-black darkness. Panic seized me. I began to breathe heavily, frantically pounding on the door. But no matter how hard I screamed, there was no response. I spiraled into terror. The day my parents died in battle, they had hidden me in a dark basement. No sound, no light, for three whole days. Until the rescue team finally found me. Since then, I had a severe phobia of dark, enclosed spaces. After coming to the Ironroot Pack, Chloe had locked me in an abandoned warehouse once. I had a mental breakdown, and my wolf almost killed her. Fortunately, I snapped out of it in time. Chloe never told anyone about the incident because she was terrified Alpha Alexander would find out she was bullying pack members. But it only made her hate me more, and her methods became even more vicious. For the past few years, even while living with Lucas, I always slept with the lights on. Lucas was annoyed at first, but after hearing about my trauma, he held me close. “It’s okay, baby. We’ll always keep the lights on. Don’t be scared.” He had trouble sleeping at first, tossing and turning, but whenever I suggested turning the lights off, he refused. “Scarlett, don’t force yourself. I can adapt.” He knew. They both knew. Yet, they still chose to punish me this way, all because I pushed Chloe. My heart ached with a dull, throbbing pain. I curled into a corner, wrapping my arms around my shaking body. Right. The warmth of the past was all an act. They were just playing their parts.

Scarlett POV Two days later, Lucas opened the door, a pleasant smile on his face. “Chloe doesn’t hold a grudge against you anymore. Go get cleaned up, we’re going to try on dresses.” I couldn’t fight him, so I let him drag me to the bridal boutique. As soon as we got out of the car, I saw Chloe and Liam waiting inside. Chloe ran up to me enthusiastically. “Scarlett, you’re here! Let me help you pick out the perfect dress today!” She smiled, waiting for me to lose my temper. I didn’t show any fear or disgust. I just said blankly, “Thanks. Sorry for the trouble.” Chloe’s face stiffened for a fraction of a second, but she quickly put her smile back on. She linked her arms with Lucas and Liam, saying meaningfully, “Let’s try them on together. Oh, Scarlett, I forgot to tell you. I found my mate.” I smiled. “Congratulations.” The light in Chloe’s eyes darkened instantly. Next, whenever I looked at a dress for more than two seconds, Chloe would immediately call the assistant over and try it on first. Every time she stepped out, she would hold Lucas’s hand. “Lucas, what do you think? Do I look pretty?” And Lucas would stare at her like she was the only woman in the world, showering her with compliments. Liam hovered around Chloe too, ignoring me completely. The boutique assistant cooed, “Oh, you’re so lucky, miss…” Chloe gasped, turning to look at me as I stood there like an outsider. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Scarlett! You’re the birthday girl, you should go first.” She playfully punched Lucas’s chest. “Lucas, what’s wrong with you? How could you ignore your own girlfriend?” The assistants looked awkward, while Liam let out a mocking chuckle. Only then did Lucas look at me. “See anything you like?” I pointed to a random dress and went into the fitting room. When I came out, the three of them were gone. The assistant looked at me with pity. “Ma’am, Miss Chloe said she wanted to look at jewelry, and the gentlemen went with her. You…” “It’s fine.” I took off the dress, handed it back, and walked out. Soon, Chloe posted a new Snapchat story. It was a photo of a stunning diamond ring: “The ring Lucas bought for me at the auction.” I glanced at it, locked my screen, and went back to packing my things. Aside from my clothes and basic essentials, I threw away or destroyed everything I had ever given Lucas. As for the things he bought me, I didn’t touch a single one. Just as I hid my suitcase in the closet, Lucas walked in holding a blue velvet box. “This is for you. I got it at the auction.” I recognized it. It was the free gift that came with Chloe’s ring. I took it and set it aside. My cold reaction made him frown. He looked around and noticed the matching couple’s mugs I used to treasure sitting in the trash can. He raised an eyebrow. “Why did you throw the mugs away? Are you mad?” I pressed my lips together. “No.” Lucas assumed he was right. “Is it because of the boutique? Chloe is just my childhood friend. I haven’t seen her in years, so I was just paying a bit more attention to her.” He wrapped his arms around me. “There’s no need to be jealous. If there was anything between us, we would’ve been together years ago, right? Scarlett, you’re my girl. Don’t you know how much I love you?” Hearing those words, a sharp pain pierced my heart. Lucas stroked my hair. “I’m sorry, Scarlett. I let you feel left out.” My fingers trembled. I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. In that split second, I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to ask him if any of it was real. Did he ever have a single ounce of genuine feelings for me over the past three years? But I swallowed the words down. Lucas’s phone rang. He answered it quickly. “Chloe… I’m on my way…” He hung up and rubbed my head. “I have some things to take care of. Get some rest. You’re going to be the most beautiful girl at the party in a few days.” With that, he rushed out. I sat on the bed, forcing my tears back. Two hours later, I finished showering and got into bed. As I was drifting off, the bedroom door suddenly opened. Lucas, who was supposed to be at the party with Chloe, walked in. Reeking of alcohol, he ripped off his shirt, tossed back my blanket, and climbed over me. The moment our skin met, my sleepiness vanished. I realized with terrifying clarity: The man on top of me was Liam.

Scarlett POV I used every ounce of my strength to push him off and scrambled to the headboard. Liam frowned at me, then smirked. “Still mad?” He rubbed his temples, his gestures and voice identical to Lucas’s. If I hadn’t heard Lucas say he was saving himself for Chloe, I would have never been able to tell them apart. He leaned in again, trapping me against the headboard, our noses almost touching. “I explained it to you today. If I loved her, I wouldn’t be with you.” Liam leaned in to kiss me. My eyes widened. I jerked my head back to avoid him and dry-heaved. My stomach retched violently. I pushed him away and ran into the bathroom. Liam watched me, his eyes flickering with confusion. Inside the bathroom, I slid down the wall and curled up on the cold floor. Outside, Liam’s voice suddenly rang out. “Did you guys hear that? She’s dry-heaving. Do you think she’s pregnant?” An uproar of shocked voices came through the phone line. One of their friends yelled, “Liam, don’t take this too far! What if she stalks you when the truth comes out?” My spine went stiff. Cold sweat broke out across my skin. I realized Liam’s phone had been on a call this whole time. Chloe’s voice came through next. “Lucas, Liam, aren’t you guys being too mean?” “Mean?” Lucas’s voice was freezing. “She bullied you for so long. This is what she deserves.” Chloe sounded worried. “What if Scarlett really is pregnant?” After a brief silence, the twins spoke in unison. “Impossible!” Lucas’s voice sounded incredibly cruel over the phone. “Even if she is, I won’t let her keep it. Right, Liam?” Liam swallowed hard. “Of… Of course.” In the next second, I threw open the bathroom door and stared at him. He quickly ended the call and walked over. “What’s wrong, Scarlett? Why do you look so pale? Are you sick? Are you… pregnant?” I stared at him, forcing a cold smile. “No. I think I just ate too much for dinner.” The next morning, I went to a hospital in a nearby human town for a check-up. If I used the pack healer, they would immediately notify Luna Signe. It was noon by the time I came out of the clinic. Lucas called me. I gave him a random address, lying that I was out buying some groceries. Soon, his SUV pulled up. He got out and guided me to the passenger seat. “Let’s go grab some lunch.” The drive was silent. Lucas had a constant smirk on his face. The music playing in his car was Chloe’s favorite song, the one I hated the most. When we arrived at the restaurant, Chloe and Liam were already waiting. Chloe pointed to a cake on the table. “Scarlett, I was out of line yesterday. I waited in line for hours to buy this cake to make it up to you. You have to try it.” During lunch, Chloe kept bringing up their childhood. “Lucas and Liam always spoiled me. When we played house, they would literally fight over who got to be my groom!” “Once, I got stuck in a tree, and Lucas lay on the ground to be my cushion.” “And during training, they both got severely injured trying to protect me. They were bedridden for weeks.” Lucas and Liam laughed along, chatting happily, while I remained completely silent. Suddenly, Chloe looked at me. “Scarlett, why are you so quiet? Are you still mad at me?” “I know we had some misunderstandings in the past, but I really want us to be best friends now.” Chloe raised her wine glass, smirking at me. I didn’t move, nor did I look at her. In the next second, I clutched my chest, gasping desperately for air. Red, angry hives broke out across my arms. I struggled to reach for my bag. “What’s happening?!” Lucas bolted upright. I struggled to unzip my bag. Chloe must have poisoned my drink. Because of my past trauma, I always kept an epinephrine auto-injector in my bag for emergencies. My fingers finally wrapped around the injector. But then, Chloe’s weak voice whimpered. “Lucas… I feel so sick…” She clutched her chest, her face pale as she collapsed backward.

Scarlett POV “Chloe!” Liam caught her just in time. “Lucas, I think Chloe was poisoned too!” Lucas froze on his way to me. His expression turned dark, and he lunged toward me. I had just pulled out my epinephrine injector, ready to stab my thigh. Suddenly, a violent force gripped my wrist, wrenching the injector from my hand. I looked up in utter disbelief, meeting Lucas’s icy glare. “You poisoned Chloe! Give her the medicine first!” He turned and ran toward Chloe, feeding her the medicine without a second thought. Sensing my gaze, Liam said coldly, “You have a stronger build, you can hold on for a bit. Chloe is fragile, she needs it more.” After giving her the medicine, Lucas scooped Chloe up and rushed out of the restaurant. Liam ran after them. “Lucas, I’ll get the car!” I collapsed to the floor, staring at their retreating figures. Not once did they look back. As my consciousness faded, I saw the waiter rushing over. “Ma’am! Ma’am! Are you okay?” I was unconscious for an entire day. When I woke up, Lucas was sitting by my bed. He held my hand, his voice filled with concern. “Scarlett, you’re finally awake. Do you feel sick anywhere?” I pulled my hand away and closed my eyes. Lucas didn’t get angry. He brushed a strand of hair from my forehead. “Scarlett, I know you’re mad at me. But Chloe’s father is Alexander’s top Beta. We couldn’t let anything happen to her right in front of us.” “I had no choice. We’re going to be family soon, we need to understand each other.” “Scarlett, you know you’re the one I love, right?” Liam appeared at the doorway. “Yeah, Lucas had no choice. We have to look at the bigger picture.” “As family, you just have to make some sacrifices.” My hands clenched under the blanket. Looking at the two men, I let out a mental scoff. To keep up the lie, they really spared no effort. I didn’t want to argue. I closed my eyes again. “I want to rest.” Only when their footsteps faded did I open my eyes, pull out my phone, and make a call. “Hi, is this the TikTok livestream agency? I’d like to book a team for an event…” After hanging up, I instinctively reached for the pendant around my neck. It was gone! Ruth’s ashes and hair were inside that pendant! Panic seized me. I scrambled out of bed, searching every corner of the room. Just as I was about to go ask the nurses, my phone buzzed. Chloe sent me a photo. It was my pendant! “If you want your necklace back, come to my room right now. Otherwise, I’ll flush the contents down the toilet.” Pure rage blinded me. I bolted out of my room and ran toward Chloe’s VIP suite. Inside, Chloe was standing by the window. The necklace was dangling from her finger, swinging over the ledge, ten stories up. “Chloe, give it back!” Chloe smirked. “Did you see my Instagram story? Wow, I thought you were so proud. But to stay with Lucas, you are willing to swallow anything.” I stared at the swinging necklace, my nails drawing blood from my palms. “Give it back to me.” Chloe dangled it further out. “If you want it, kneel down and apologize to me. Admit you are a cheap, pathetic bitch.” “Never!”

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Five years of marriage, and my husband had never sat through a single one of my solos. Tonight was my debut at Carnegie Hall. It was also my swan song. I had gone out of my way to mail the ticket to his office, leaving it right on his keyboard with a hand-written sticky note. Ten minutes before the curtain rose, I peeked through the slit in the heavy velvet drapes, looking down at the third row. At his seat. Empty. My phone buzzed in my palm. A notification from Instagram. It was a photo of a rowdy crowd clinking glasses at a dive bar. Center stage was Roxy, holding her bass guitar, sporting a wild, carefree grin. The caption read: “Eighteenth show for my favorite indie band. Perfect attendance record unlocked.” Eighteen shows. My cello journey had taken me from local recitals to state competitions, from national stages to an invitation to debut at Carnegie Hall. For every single performance, I had saved him the best seat in the house. Every single time, it sat empty. Yet he could memorize every one of Roxy’s rehearsal schedules, every grungy venue she played. He was even the first to comment and congratulate her when she got a new set of guitar strings. Meanwhile, the day I won the National Gold Medal, his only response was a text: “Nice. Congrats. Out with clients right now, talk later.” That night, he stayed out until 2:00 AM celebrating Roxy’s EP release. Tonight’s final piece was called The Fade Out. As the final note dissolved into the silence of the hall, I bowed deeply toward that empty seat in the third row. This is the last time, Daniel, I ever play for you. 1 “Charlotte, grab some warm water. Roxy drank too much and her stomach is killing her.” At 2:00 AM, the motion-sensor light in the foyer flickered to life. Daniel stood in the doorway, supporting a thoroughly drunk, alcohol-soaked Roxy. Without even kicking off his shoes, he guided her straight to our sofa. I stood in the middle of the living room, still wearing the black silk performance gown I had just taken off my cello rack. Roxy leaned heavily into Daniel’s chest, her eyes half-lidded. “Dan… did I ruin your night again?” “Of course not. Don’t talk. Just breathe, okay?” Daniel looked up at me. “What are you just standing there for? Get some water.” “The filtered water pitcher is on the counter. The glasses are in the cabinet.” I didn’t move. Daniel’s brows furrowed. “What is wrong with you tonight? Where are your manners?” Manners. Hospitality. We had been married for five years. This was my home. He dragged another woman into our space in the dead of night and lectured me on playing the good hostess. “Dan, don’t yell at her,” Roxy murmured, tugging weakly at his sleeve. “Didn’t she have that big show tonight? She must be exhausted.” She was the one to bring up the performance. Daniel finally took a proper look at me, sweeping his eyes over my gown. “So, your show is over?” “Yes.” “Was there a crowd?” “It was alright.” “I told you, classical music is a dying art. Nobody wants to sit through that anymore, but you treat it like gold.” He slipped his coat off and draped it over Roxy’s shoulders. “Unlike Roxy’s gigs. They literally sold out of standing-room-only tickets tonight.” My eyes drifted down to Roxy’s wrist. Something silver was wrapped around it, catching the dim living room light. A cello string. Specifically, a custom gut core string imported from Germany. I had waited six months for the set. Just yesterday, I had opened my case and realized my spare was missing. “Where did you get that string on your wrist?” I took two steps forward, staring intently at her hand. Roxy flinched, pulling her hand back. Daniel instantly shielded her arm behind his back. “I took it.” He looked at me, completely unbothered. “You have a ton of spares lying around in your case, so I grabbed one. Roxy said the thickness looked cool as a braided bracelet. Fit her whole rock aesthetic.” “That is my custom spare.” “It’s just a string, Charlotte. I’ll buy you ten more tomorrow.” Buy ten more. He had no idea what it even was. To him, it was just a cheap wire he could replace with a quick online order. “If that string breaks, my entire acoustic balance is ruined.” “Can you stop being so incredibly dramatic?” Daniel’s voice rose. “Roxy had the biggest night of her career. What’s wrong with borrowing a string? You’re both musicians. Why do you have to be so incredibly petty?” Both musicians. I had played since I was five. For twenty years, I hadn’t let a single scratch touch my fingers. Roxy barely knew three basic chords and relied on social media presence and cheap marketing to play dive bars. And he put us in the same category. “Oh… I’m so sorry, Charlotte. I didn’t know it was that important.” Roxy’s eyes welled with tears as she struggled to untie the tight knot around her wrist. “I’ll take it off right now.” She yanked at the stiff gut string, but instead of loosening, it bit deep into her skin, leaving a harsh red mark. She gasped, wincing. Daniel immediately grabbed her hand to stop her. “Stop. You’re hurting yourself.” He whipped his head around, glaring at me. “Are you insane, Charlotte? Tormenting her over a piece of string? How much was it? I’ll transfer you double right now.” I watched him hold her close, shielding her like a fragile treasure, and a sudden wave of profound exhaustion washed over me. It was so incredibly pathetic. A knot of nausea tightened in my stomach. “Don’t bother.” I turned toward the bedroom. “Charlotte, get back here!” Daniel snapped after me. “You still haven’t brought her any water! Where did you get this awful attitude lately?” “I’m tired.” Without looking back, I stepped inside, shut the door, and turned the lock. Daniel’s muffled, irritated voice leaked through the wood. “Just ignore her. Always wearing that miserable face, acting like the world owes her something.” “Dan… did I make her mad?” “She’s always been cold and lifeless. No wonder nobody wants to listen to her play.” No wonder nobody wants to listen. Sitting in the pitch-black bedroom, I pulled out my phone. The Carnegie Hall official social media account had posted a recap ten minutes ago. #CharlotteSymphonyDebutSoldOut The comments were flooded with praise, calling the finale, The Fade Out, a haunting masterpiece that reached straight into the soul. But the seat in the dead center of the third row had remained empty from start to finish. I closed the app and opened my travel program. I booked a one-way ticket to Berlin for tomorrow afternoon. Outside the door, the sound of Roxy dry-heaving was followed by the frantic, soothing murmur of Daniel rubbing her back. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Just let it out. I’ll grab the mop.” He was a man who wouldn’t even pick up a spilled salt shaker. Yet here he was, in the middle of the night, cleaning up another woman’s vomit. I placed my phone face down on the nightstand. “You’re right,” I whispered into the dark, answering his earlier question. It wasn’t worth getting angry over. Because I was done. 2 “Charlotte, I’m so incredibly sorry about last night. I ruined your Persian rug.” The next morning at nine. I opened the bedroom door to find Roxy sitting at the dining table, eating a bowl of oatmeal. She was wearing one of Daniel’s oversized white button-downs, her hair thrown up in a messy bun. On the table were freshly baked bagels and lox from the bakery down the street—the ones that required a thirty-minute line on weekend mornings. Daniel must have queued up early just for her. “Where is he?” I walked over to the kitchen island to pour myself a glass of water. “Dan went to the office,” Roxy said, stirring her bowl. “He said he had a huge investor meeting today.” I held my glass, keeping my back to her. “You really look down on me, don’t you, Charlotte?” Roxy set her spoon down, resting her chin in her hands as she stared at me. “You think I’m just some cheap bar singer with no class, right?” “I don’t think about you at all.” “Well, Dan thinks I have way more raw talent than you.” She offered a small, provocative smile. “He says your music is like stagnant water. Mine is alive.” I paused mid-sip. “He’s right.” Roxy didn’t expect me to agree so easily. Her smug smile faltered. I set my glass down. Walking over to the sofa, I reached under the mahogany coffee table and peeled off a small black plastic square hidden in the gap. A smart voice recorder I’d bought a few days ago. I had started noticing things going missing around the apartment. Drafts of my sheet music. Rare, out-of-print classical CDs. “What is that?” Roxy’s face shifted. Ignoring her, I synced the device to my phone via Bluetooth and pressed play. The time-stamp on the file was 3:15 AM. Right after I had locked myself in the bedroom last night. Daniel’s voice filled the quiet room. “You done throwing up? Here, rinse your mouth.” “Dan… was that cello string really a big deal to Charlotte? Did I mess up?” “A big deal? Please, it was just sitting in her case gathering dust. She only acts like a grand artist because her family has money.” “But she had her big debut tonight and you skipped it. She’s going to be furious.” “She literally shoved the ticket down my throat. Besides, listening to her play the cello is like sitting through a funeral. It’s nowhere near as thrilling as watching you smash guitars on stage.” Roxy’s giggles echoed through the speaker. “You’re terrible, Dan. Oh, by the way, that melody sketch you showed me in your office? I ended up using it for my new single dropping next month. Your wife won’t notice, will she?” “She hasn’t written anything new in ages; she probably forgot that scrap of paper even existed. Use it. Consider it my sponsorship for your dreams.” The audio cut off. The silence that followed was heavy and suffocating. Roxy’s knuckles turned white as she clutched her spoon, her gaze locked onto the small recorder in my hand. “Did you hear that?” I slipped the device into my pocket. “Your raw talent is nothing more than the trash I threw in my wastebasket.” “You wiretapped us!” Roxy bolted upright, knocking her chair backward with a loud clatter. “This is my home.” I looked at her with absolute stillness. “You stole from me. Catching a thief in my own house is only fair.” That melody was a piece I had written for Daniel on our first anniversary. Back then, his startup was struggling, and he was pulling all-nighters. I had wanted to compose something light and soothing to ease his mind. He had glanced at the sheet music for two seconds before scoffing: “I don’t read sheet music, Charlotte. You’re casting pearls before swine here.” As it turned out, he wasn’t illiterate. He just found it more valuable to gift my work to another woman. The smart lock at the front door beeped. Daniel walked in, carrying a small bakery box with a strawberry shortcake—Roxy’s favorite. “Roxy, is your stomach feeling any better? I bought that cake—” He froze as he noticed the overturned chair. “What’s going on here?” He rushed forward, instinctively stepping in front of Roxy. “Charlotte, what the hell is wrong with you now?” “Dan, I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to apologize to her,” Roxy whimpered from behind him, her voice cracking. “But she had this recorder… she called me a thief. She said I stole her music…” Daniel glared at me, his eyes dark with disbelief. “You put a recording device in our apartment?” He looked at me as if I were the one committing some unspeakable sin. “Yes.” “Are you out of your mind, Charlotte? You’re spying on me now?” “If I didn’t, how would I have known that my husband was giving away my hard work to his mistress as a cheap token?” Daniel slammed the bakery box onto the kitchen island. The impact crushed the cardboard, and whipped cream splattered against the sides of the box. “Watch your mouth! She is not my mistress!” He pointed a finger directly at my face. “That scrap paper had been gathering dust in the study for months. Roxy needed a hook for her chorus. What’s the big deal if I let her borrow it?” “It belonged to me.” “You’re my wife! What’s yours is mine. Why can’t I make a decision to help a friend out?” His sheer, unadulterated entitlement made me want to laugh. “If everything that’s mine is yours,” I looked him dead in the eyes, “then do me a favor. Get this stranger out of my house. Now.” Daniel’s face flushed an angry crimson. “Charlotte, do not push your luck.” “Get out.” “Fine. Great.” Daniel let out a bitter, dry laugh and grabbed Roxy’s hand. “If there’s no room for us here, we’re leaving.” Without a single word of explanation, he pulled Roxy out of the apartment and slammed the door shut. The force of the slam sent a shudder through the wall, tilting our wedding portrait. “Why do you always have to ruin the mood?” He had said the exact same thing years ago when I asked him to stop smoking in the house. “I won’t,” I whispered to the empty room. “Never again.” 3 I started packing. I didn’t have many clothes; everything fit easily into a single suitcase. The only things that truly mattered were my cello and my manuscript notebooks. While I was wrapping them in the study, my phone rang. It was Mr. Harris from the music shop. “Charlotte, about those custom Heidenau gut strings you wanted—there are none left in the US. The German manufacturer says it’ll be at least three months.” “Is there any way to rush it?” “Even with a rush fee, they can’t speed up the process. They’re entirely handmade,” Mr. Harris sighed. “I know you have the finals in Berlin coming up. Going without a spare is a massive risk.” “I understand. Thank you anyway, Mr. Harris.” I hung up and stared at the empty slot in my hard-shell case. The string Roxy had stolen to make her little bracelet was a rare, low-C gut string. The Berlin competition wasn’t just a contest. It was my final audition for the Berlin Philharmonic. If a string snapped mid-performance without a backup, it would be a catastrophic end to my career. I had to get it back. I opened the location-sharing app on my phone. Daniel’s icon was parked at “The Nocturne” Livehouse. I grabbed my keys and went out. At 3:00 PM, the venue was closed to the public, the interior dim and cavernous. Staccato notes of a bass guitar echoed from the stage. I pushed open the heavy double doors. Daniel was sitting in the front row, a beer in hand, staring up at Roxy. She was tuning her bass on stage. The German gut string had been snipped into short, frayed pieces, dangling from the peghead of her bass like cheap fringe. She had cut it. Something snapped in my brain. A physical, high-pitched ringing filled my ears. I marched down the aisle, my footsteps echoing sharply on the wooden floor. Daniel turned, his forehead folding into a tight frown. “Are you following me now?” Ignoring him, I walked straight up the side steps of the stage. “Charlotte, what the hell are you doing?” Daniel dropped his beer, rushing up the steps to block me. I shoved past him and reached for the neck of Roxy’s bass. “Charlotte! Stop! You’re breaking my guitar!” Roxy shrieked, backing away. “Give me my string back!” “What string? I already cut it up for the headstock!” she yelled, dodging behind Daniel. “Charlotte, that’s enough!” Daniel lunged from the side, grabbing me by the shoulders and shoving me backward. “Don’t touch her!” His instinct to protect her was instantaneous. Unthinking. My heel caught on a loose cable, my ankle twisted, and I tumbled backward. To my right was a heavy, raw iron speaker stand. Crash. My right wrist slammed directly against the sharp, metallic corner of the stand. A blinding, white-hot agony shot from my wrist straight up to my shoulder. I collapsed onto the floor, instantly drenched in a cold sweat. The entire room fell dead silent. “Dan… why did you push her? I think she’s really hurt.” Roxy’s voice was small, shaking behind him. Daniel looked down at me. There was no concern in his eyes. Only deep, exhausting irritation. “Stop acting. It wasn’t even that hard of a push.” He casually adjusted his cuffs. “You came up here like a lunatic. Roxy scares easily, Charlotte. Don’t take your issues out on her.” My right hand was shaking violently, entirely limp. I couldn’t even lift it off the floor. This was my bowing hand. My life. Gritting my teeth, I used my left hand to push myself up. The skin around my wrist was already turning a deep, sickening shade of purple, swelling rapidly. Daniel finally saw it. His eyes flickered, and he took a half-step forward before freezing. “Why didn’t you watch where you were going?” he asked, his voice suddenly hollow. “Let’s go to the ER. I’ll drive.” “No.” Supporting my broken right arm with my left, I stared at him. “Daniel.” “What?” “That string… I had someone track it down in Munich. I waited six months to get it.” I looked at the frayed silver threads on Roxy’s bass. “It cost twelve hundred dollars.” Daniel’s face went completely blank. “And your little friend just turned it into trash.” “Charlotte… I really didn’t know…” Roxy whimpered, shrinking further behind him. “Does ignorance exempt you from the law?” I pulled out my phone with my left hand and tapped out three numbers. “911? I’d like to report a crime. Someone has intentionally destroyed over a thousand dollars’ worth of my property.” 4 Daniel lunged forward, snatching the phone from my hand and ending the call. “Are you insane, Charlotte? Calling the cops? Haven’t you embarrassed us enough?” He stared at me, eyes wide with anger. “It’s just money! I will pay you back! Do you really have to be this vindictive?” “Yes.” I looked him straight in the eyes. “Have your lawyer call me tomorrow.” I turned and walked off the stage, never looking back. Daniel’s furious shout followed me out the door. “Charlotte! You walk out that door today, and I am done chasing after you!” I paused. I didn’t turn around. “I won’t scare her anymore,” I said to the empty lobby. “You two deserve each other.” At the Mount Sinai emergency room. The doctor stared at my X-ray, his face grim. “A hairline fracture of the distal radius. There’s also severe swelling threatening the carpal tunnel. What do you do for work?” “I’m a cellist.” I leaned back in my chair, my voice flat. The doctor let out a long sigh. “That’s a problem. We need to put you in a cast immediately. No movement for at least a month, followed by intensive physical therapy.” “I have a competition in Berlin next week.” “Forget about it.” He slid the films back toward me. “You can’t even hold a fork right now, let alone draw a bow. If you try to play through this, you risk permanent nerve damage. You’ll never play again.” Never play again. I traced the cold, hard plaster cast on my right arm with my left fingers. Twenty years of late nights and early mornings. The calloused fingertips, the bleeding knuckles, all for that golden ticket to Berlin. All shattered by a single, careless push from Daniel. My phone buzzed in my bag. I pulled it out with my left hand. It was Claire, my manager. “Charlotte, have you seen Instagram?” “No. What happened?” “Roxy just dropped her new single, ‘An Unfinished Poem.’ Listen to the melody in the chorus.” I tapped the link Claire sent. It was a sloppy production with overprocessed, whiny vocals. But the eight-bar melody in the hook—I could write it in my sleep. It was the exact composition I had labored over, sitting at the piano on our first anniversary. Under the credits, it read: Composed by Roxy. And the biggest investor behind the track was Daniel’s gaming studio. They were launching a massive joint campaign, using her song as the title theme for his upcoming game. “That’s your arrangement, isn’t it?” Claire’s voice shook with anger. “I’m calling our legal team. We’re suing them.” “Don’t rush.” I leaned against the cold tiles of the hospital corridor. “Let them launch the game. Let them spend every penny they have on marketing. Then we strike.” “How’s your wrist? I heard you went to the ER.” “It’s broken.” I looked out the window at the passing headlights. “I can’t go to Berlin.” A long, heavy silence stretched over the line before Claire let out a sharp curse. “Charlotte, you should have left that bastard years ago.” “I know.” I hung up and opened Instagram. Daniel had posted thirty minutes ago. It was a photo of Roxy in the recording studio, side-by-side with his company’s new game poster. The caption read: “True genius shouldn’t be hidden in the dark. Congrats on the hit, Roxy.” True genius. He had stolen my soul to build a pedestal for his muse. I opened his contact info. His last text to me from last night stared back at me: “Just because your little recital was a bust doesn’t mean you get to take it out on Roxy.” Using only my left thumb, I typed slowly but steadily: “I want a divorce.”

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After a brutal day at work, I dragged my exhausted, soaking-wet body home through a torrential downpour. My fever had spiked to 102, leaving me too weak to even think about making dinner. Mason, who had told me he’d be out late at a business dinner, suddenly rushed through the front door. He rummaged through the medicine cabinet, pulled out the Tylenol, and without even looking up at me, said, “Sadie caught a cold in the rain today. Make her some warm chicken broth. I’m heading over to drop off the medicine, and I’ll take the soup to her.” Right then, my phone buzzed. A viral post on my feed caught my eye: At what exact moment did you realize they didn’t love you anymore? I glanced at Mason’s hurried back, then typed a reply in the comments: Right now. But luckily, I don’t love him anymore either. 1 My comment instantly drew a flurry of replies. Everyone was asking why. Mason didn’t notice how flushed my face was, or how miserably I was shivering on the sofa. He went into the bedroom, grabbed a fresh change of clothes, and called out, “She can’t take care of herself when she’s sick. I won’t be back tonight.” “Once you finish the broth, make sure to lock the windows and doors. Get some rest.” My fever-addled brain felt like a crashed, obsolete computer, taking several seconds to process his words. “I don’t feel well,” I croaked. “If you want something for her, make it yourself.” Each breath felt like fire scraping against my lungs. I was burning up, but I forced my eyes open, trying to find the strength to stand, find my own medicine, and go to bed. Mason turned, giving me a cold, dismissive look. “Sadie’s sick, and now suddenly you’re sick too?” he scoffed. “Norah, you really will say anything to get my attention, won’t you?” That morning, I’d had a critical client presentation. I hadn’t had time to clear the kitchen and had asked him to help out. He’d sat at the dining table, barely glancing at me, and said with cool indifference, “You know I hate being in the kitchen. Just because we have nothing in common lately, you don’t need to pick fights to get my attention.” I’d stood there, stunned for a few seconds, but with no time to argue, I’d rushed out the door. I’d assumed that no matter how annoyed he was, he’d at least handle that small chore. But when I walked in tonight, those same dirty dishes were still sitting in the sink, soaking in greasy water. The laundry basket was overflowing, untouched. Even the bag of trash I’d forgotten to take out in my rush was still sitting quietly in the corner of the entryway. Normally, I would have lost my temper. We would have had a screaming match. But tonight, I didn’t have the strength. And honestly, I no longer cared enough to try. “Norah, why are you sitting there acting so brooding?” Mason grumbled, his irritation mounting. “You come home and you can’t even clean up the place? Go look at other people’s girlfriends. Who else is as lazy as you? Asking you to make a simple broth is like asking for your kidney.” His words felt like a serrated blade slicing into the deepest, most vulnerable part of my chest. It physically hurt to breathe. “Mason, I told you, I’m actually—” Before I could finish, his phone rang. He didn’t look at me again. He turned his back to me to answer it, and Sadie’s bright, slightly congested voice echoed into the room. “Hey, Boss! I finally picked out the car I want. The dealer said if I’m serious, I can pick it up tomorrow… cough, cough…” “I get it. Stop talking,” Mason’s voice softened instantly, thick with concern. “Don’t worry about anything while you’re sick. Just tell my assistant which model you want, and I’ll have him handle the paperwork.” He grabbed the entire first-aid kit from the shelf, not even bothering to look inside for what he actually needed, and headed for the door. “Mason…” My throat was so dry, so raw. Every word felt like glass tearing at my vocal cords, and hot tears spilled over my cheeks. “Leave… leave me some medicine.” He paused at the door, his hand on the knob. “Norah, stop acting out,” he said without turning around. “Sadie has a hundred and point four fever. If she doesn’t get medicine right now, it could turn into something serious. You can’t take responsibility for that.” The door clicked shut behind him. He left, completely unaware of the comment I had just posted under that viral thread: Because when I came home soaking wet, burning up with a 102-degree fever, he took all his warmth and all the medicine to go care for another woman. In that single second, I realized that loving or not loving… it doesn’t even matter anymore. 2 Outside, the storm raged on, wind howling against the windowpanes. Every local pharmacy and convenience store had closed early due to the severe weather. With no way to buy medicine, I could only manage a quick wash before collapsing onto the bed. But the fever burned in my bones, making sleep impossible. In my misery, I unlocked my phone and stared at the replies to my comment. A user had replied: Oh sweetie, why did you walk home in the rain? Why didn’t you ask your boyfriend to pick you up? Or call an Uber? When the storm had hit that afternoon, I’d called Mason repeatedly. He’d ignored every call. It wasn’t until right before clock-out that he sent a brief text: I’m tied up with something. Can’t make it. Figure out your own way home. Because of the flash flood warnings, rideshare prices had skyrocketed, and no drivers were accepting trips. Desperate, I’d had to unlock a city bike and ride home through the stinging rain, just like many of my stranded coworkers. Before I could type out a response, another user replied to her comment: Never rely on anyone but yourself, OP. If you have the means, buy your own car. A car is a girl’s ultimate shield. With your own set of wheels, you never have to wait on anyone else. Then, she attached a screenshot of a lifestyle influencer’s post. This is a lifestyle blogger I follow. She got caught in the rain today and caught a cold, so her boyfriend bought her a brand-new car on the spot. He said he never wants her to have to look out the window in a storm and envy the people sitting dry inside a car. Looking at the screenshot, my freezing fingertips began to tremble. The “lifestyle blogger” was Sadie Thompson—Mason’s executive assistant. Driven by some masochistic curiosity, I opened her TikTok account. Sadie had been documenting her daily life since she started at Mason’s company last fall. In almost every video, there was a familiar, towering silhouette. At first, Mason only showed his hands—his well-manicured, long fingers, or his deep, resonant voice narrating in the background. It was enough to gain her thousands of followers. The comments were filled with fans shipping them. One comment read: Your boss is so incredibly sweet to you! Asking for a friend… when do we get to hear wedding bells? Sadie had liked the comment and replied with just two words: Take a guess. She never clarified her relationship with Mason, letting the internet play matchmaker. I scrolled down, my eyes stopping on the video she’d uploaded just today. It showed Mason sitting on an unfamiliar, plush sofa, leaning over a bowl of hot soup, gently blowing on it to cool it down for her. She giggled behind the camera, asking, “Hey, Boss, can I ask you a quick question?” “Why do you think every girl needs her own car?” In the video, his eyes were incredibly soft, looking at her with a tender, focused devotion. “Because a car represents a woman’s independence,” he said. “Once you have your own car, you can go wherever you want, whenever you want. You’ll never be tied down by anyone or anything, and you’ll never have to look at someone else driving by in the rain and wish you were in their passenger seat.” My mind drifted back to last year, during a similar storm. When Mason picked me up from work, I’d casually mentioned, “Maybe I should buy a car? That way, you won’t have to take such a long detour to get me.” He’d shaken his head, smiling warmly. “If you have your own car, how am I supposed to play the doting boyfriend?” he’d said. “Don’t overthink it. Picking you up is never a chore. I’d gladly drive out of my way for you for the rest of my life.” Yet, just last month, when I was running late and asked him for a quick ride to the office, he’d frowned, his tone lecturing and cold: “You’re an adult, Norah, not a schoolchild. Having your boyfriend drive you to work every single day—don’t you think that’s a bit embarrassing?” I returned to the comment section on my phone. I typed a short reply: You’re entirely right. It’s time I started relying on myself. 3 Maybe it was the exhaustion, or maybe that was the exact moment my feelings for Mason died completely. I turned off my phone and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. When I finally drifted awake, the first thing I heard was the sharp, panicked voice of my best friend, Fiona. “Norah, are you out of your mind? You have a massive fever and you didn’t take anything? Why didn’t you call me?” Her voice shook, a mix of fury and pure, raw terror. “If I hadn’t decided to swing by and check on you, you would’ve ended up in the ICU with pneumonia!” “I’m sorry…” I whispered, feeling terrible for worrying her. But my voice was so raspy it sounded like dry leaves scraping across concrete. “Save your breath, your throat is raw,” Fiona snapped, though she gently placed a cool cloth on my forehead. Then she began pacing, muttering under her breath. “And where the hell is Mason? I called him five times and he didn’t even pick up. He used to lose his mind if you so much as sneezed. Now he’s a ghost?” I closed my eyes, remembering our junior year of college. I’d spiked a sudden, terrifying fever in the middle of the night. When Fiona found me, it was 3:00 AM. She couldn’t get me to the clinic alone, so she called Mason. It was the coldest night of the year. Mason had sprinted down the empty, frozen streets with me slung over his back, his voice shaking and raw with tears. “Norah, please stay with me. I’m getting you to the hospital. Just hold on, baby, please, we’re almost there.” By the time we reached the emergency room, he was drenched in sweat, tears streaming down his face, his eyes wide with terror. When I woke up, the nurse had smiled gently. “You’ve got a good one, sweetie. He loves you to pieces. Make sure you hold onto him.” I’d looked through the glass. Mason was slumped in a hard plastic chair in the hallway, his clothes disheveled, fast asleep. “He was terrified his snoring would wake you up,” the nurse added. “No matter how much I told him to sleep in the extra chair in here, he refused. He insisted on staying out there.” Back then, his love was loud, proud, and undeniable. I had thought, in my naive twenty-year-old heart, that I would marry him. I never could have imagined that love could be as fleeting as a firework. Five years. That was all it lasted. I stayed in the hospital for two days. Mason didn’t call once. I didn’t care. On the day I was discharged, I looked at Fiona. “Are you free today? I want to go look at cars.” Fiona stared at me, dumbfounded. “But Mason drives you everywhere. Why do you need a car?” I swallowed hard, then told her everything that had happened over the last few days—including how he’d taken my medicine to give to Sadie. Fiona’s face went red with fury. “Are you kidding me? What an absolute scumbag! He’s basically stepping out on you, and he left you burning up with a fever to play hero to another woman? I hope he rots! Break up with him. Right now!” Breaking up was a given. I’d just been too physically exhausted to handle the logistics. I nodded, pulled out my phone, and sent him a simple, direct breakup text. “Now,” I said, looking up at Fiona. “Will you come car shopping with me?” I didn’t just need a car. I needed a new place to live. Now that we were over, I couldn’t spend another night in his apartment. I wasn’t picky about the car or the apartment. I signed the paperwork for a compact SUV and found a fully furnished loft that was ready for immediate move-in. Once the lease was signed, I treated Fiona to dinner, and then went back to Mason’s apartment to pack my bags. Fiona insisted on waiting in the car downstairs, just in case. I didn’t expect anyone to be home. But when I unlocked the door, I saw Mason sitting on the sofa, his expression dark and stormy. “Where the hell have you been?” he demanded, his voice tight. “You haven’t been home in two days!” 4 His reaction actually surprised me. I hadn’t realized he still cared whether I came home or not. I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off. “Why did you leave the sink full of dirty dishes before you left?” he snapped. “The laundry is overflowing, and you didn’t even bother to take out the trash. It’s practically rotting in the hallway.” “Just because you don’t own this place doesn’t mean you can treat it like a dumpster.” I stared at him, listening to his furious accusations, a bitter numbness spreading through my chest. From the very first day I’d moved in, I had quietly taken on the role of keeping this house running. I cooked, I cleaned, I did the laundry. I was even the one who made sure the utility bills were paid on time. How could he stand there and act like I’d done nothing? How could he be so utterly blind to everything I’d contributed? I looked at him, a cold, self-deprecating smile touching my lips. “Mason, am I your maid?” “When you begged me to move in, you promised I wouldn’t have to lift a finger. You said you’d take care of all the housework.” “But the reality is, I’ve done everything. What exactly have you done?” He’d said he hated the smell of grease, so I never asked him to step foot in the kitchen. He’d said he was too exhausted from work, so I never asked him to sweep a floor. I handled it all, believing that he appreciated my quiet efforts. Instead, he just looked at me with deep annoyance. “Sadie manages to keep her place absolutely spotless, and she never complains,” he muttered defensively. “Norah, why can’t you be more like her? Just grow up a little. Stop whining about every little chore. Honestly, with this attitude, who would even want to marry you?” We’d been together for five years. Our friends had asked us countless times when we were finally going to tie the knot. Every time they did, I would look at him, waiting, hoping. I wanted the proposal. I wanted to see myself in his future. But he would always brush it off with a casual smile. “No rush. Let’s wait a bit.” Six simple words to easily dodge the question. The memory made my chest ache, but I managed a quiet laugh. “Mason, we broke up. Whatever happens to me in the future is none of your business.” “I came back today to get my bags, not to listen to your lectures.” Mason’s face shifted through a dozen emotions, settling on a look of sheer disbelief. “Norah, are you actually serious?” “Do you even know—” Before he could finish, there was a light knock on the door. The lock clicked, and Sadie walked in, using her own spare key. “Mason! Are you ready to coach me?” she asked brightly. “I want to practice driving before the evening rush hour hits.” Then, she noticed me standing there. Her cheerful expression faltered, replaced by a delicate, fragile look of concern. “Oh, hi, Norah. You’re back. I… I didn’t mean to intrude. I can just go practice on my own…” “Wait,” Mason cut in, his protective instincts immediately flaring. “I don’t want you driving alone. I’ll come with you.” He turned back to me, his jaw tight. “Norah, think about this carefully. If you walk out that door today, don’t expect me to beg you to come back.” “And don’t expect me to forgive you or try to patch things up.” He turned on his heel and walked out. A small, victorious smile played at the corners of Sadie’s mouth. “We’ll be on our way then, Norah…” she said softly. “Oh, by the way, I left some organic peaches in the fridge. They’re incredibly sweet. Help yourself!” Her tone was so warm, so natural, as if she were the lady of the house welcoming a houseguest. I didn’t say a word. Once the door closed behind them, I went into the bedroom and finished packing my bags. Later that evening, when Mason finally returned, the building’s property manager stopped him in the lobby. “Oh, Mr. Gallagher. Your girlfriend, Norah, removed herself from the building’s community portal today. She said any future maintenance issues should go through you. Could you re-join the thread so we can keep in touch?” Mason froze, the words sinking in like lead. “Why would she leave the portal?” The manager looked at him, completely baffled. “Well… she said you two broke up. Since she doesn’t live here anymore, there was no reason for her to stay in the group.”

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