Category: English

My desk mate was the school’s golden boy. So many girls left sweet treats on his desk. During my poorest year, I stole from those piles every single day. A mini cinnamon roll today, a blueberry muffin tomorrow. When the long recess bell rang and everyone headed to the track for laps, I would slip a slice of his freshly delivered strawberry brioche into my bag, saving it for lunch. Until one day, I saw the floating comments. 【She’s been shameless since she was a kid. Stealing at this age, she’ll never amount to anything.】 【Her mom ran off with someone else, her dad is a hopeless gambler. A piece of trash like her doesn’t deserve to be anywhere near Asher. She needs to look in a mirror.】 【Let her steal. Her dad is going to sell her to cover his debts anyway. She’ll never have the right to stand in front of Asher.】 1 My gaze remained locked onto those drifting lines of text. I forgot to chew; the stolen muffin sat heavy and tasteless on my tongue. Carefully, I pulled the stolen slice of brioche from my bag and slipped it back into Asher’s desk, hiding it away like a shameful secret. I had no idea if the messages floating in the air were real. But my dad was a gambler, that much was true. My mother had walked out years ago, unable to bear the weight of his debts. To the rest of the world, she had simply abandoned us. So, if the text said he was going to sell me to cover what he owed… It was probably true, too. 2 The recess bell blared, sharp and demanding. I drifted out with the crowd, my legs feeling light and hollow, as if I were walking on air. I was so incredibly hungry. Usually by this time, I would have eaten half of Asher’s breakfast. Not today. The glowing words kept scrolling across my vision. 【Oh, look who stopped stealing. Did she suddenly find a conscience?】 【Stop pretending. As soon as the room clears out, she’ll be right back at it.】 【How has Asher not caught her yet? She’s getting off way too easy. Once a thief, always a thief.】 I kept my eyes on my shoes, silent. They weren’t wrong. No matter how desperate I was, stealing was wrong. I shouldn’t have done it. I pressed a hand against my stomach. But God, I was so hungry. 3 During gym class on the field, the world began to tilt. The sun beat down ruthlessly. My blood sugar had plummeted, and with only a few bites of stolen food in my system, my head throbbed with a dull, heavy ache. Halfway through our laps, a classmate noticed how pale I had gone and alerted the teacher. Seeing my ghost-white face, the coach walked me over to the shade of the blooming mimosa trees to rest. I sat beneath the pink, feathery blossoms, staring blankly at the brick school building in the distance. The text flared up again. 【The pathetic second lead is acting frail to get sympathy. Classic.】 【Just thinking about her running back to the classroom to rummage through Asher’s desk makes me sick.】 【Isn’t this a prestigious private academy? Why do they admit trailer trash like her? The stench of poverty is suffocating.】 I buried my face in my knees. Their words were so sharp. I didn’t want to look, but the letters seemed to follow my gaze, seared into the back of my eyelids even when I closed them. Pathetic. Fake. Disgusting. Trash. The insults looped endlessly. The comments grew meaner by the second. I bit my lip, pressing down hard to ignore them. I’m not. I was just hungry. I’m not a bad person. 4 The bell rang, signaling the end of recess. The students flooded back. I lingered on the grass until the very last moment, making me the last one to enter the classroom. Asher was already in his seat, leaning forward to organize his textbooks. Golden sunlight streamed through the window, highlighting his sharp jawline and casting long shadows from his thick eyelashes. He was beautiful. No wonder he was the school’s golden boy, adored by almost everyone at Oakridge. I didn’t dare look at him directly. Keeping my head low, I walked to my desk. As soon as I sat down, my eyes fell on the strawberry brioche resting on top of his desk, alongside the half-eaten muffin from this morning. I froze. He had never taken his food out of his drawer before. Did he know? The comments started up again. 【Look how guilty she looks. She definitely got caught.】 【Asher, call her out. Let the whole class know what a thief she is.】 【Keep our school clean. Kick the thief out.】 I gripped the hem of my skirt, my knuckles turning white. My palms were slick with cold sweat. I held my breath, terrified of drawing his attention. What if he turned around and asked why his breakfast was missing? Images of him humiliating me in front of everyone flashed through my mind. Everyone was here. If he spoke up now, my shame would be public. Maybe they were right. Maybe I was just a bad person. The spiral of anxiety tightened in my chest, and right then, Asher turned toward me. My heart jumped. I quickly looked down, pretending to search for a book in my bag. Thankfully, he didn’t accuse me. He just watched me in silence. His eyes drifted down to my hands, which were frantically twisting my uniform. His brow furrowed slightly. “Are you okay today?” I opened my mouth. There was so much I wanted to say, but my throat felt tight and dry. What could I say anyway? I’m sorry I’ve been stealing your breakfast? That would just be a confession before he even asked. I shook my head, my voice barely a whisper. “I’m fine.” 【Liar. She’s sweating because she’s guilty.】 【Why does this cheap drama have to ruin a perfectly good high school romance? She’s so annoying.】 Asher didn’t say anything else, nor did he press further. He just lingered, studying my face for a moment longer. Just as I thought he was about to say something, the warning bell rang for the next class. I let out a shaky breath. I had never been so grateful for a school bell. The teacher walked in, textbook in hand, and I hastily opened my notebook, pretending to take notes, though the words blurred together. Asher turned back around, his posture straight and attentive. He focused on the lesson as if nothing had happened. The tension drained from my shoulders, leaving a strange, hollow ache in its place. He didn’t push. He didn’t expose me. But did he already know? Was he just too polite to say it? My stomach rumbled again. I pressed a hand against it and bit my lip. Looks like I’d be skipping lunch today, too. 5 The final bell of the morning was like an explosion of life. The classroom instantly erupted into chatter as students packed their bags, heading for the cafeteria. Audrey turned around, her bright eyes fixed on me. “Hey Stella, coming to lunch?” I shook my head quickly. “No, go ahead. I still have some homework to finish.” The cafeteria food was far too expensive for me. I never went. Audrey invited me occasionally, but after my constant refusals, she never pressed. She was sweet but a bit oblivious. She just nodded, waved, and ran off with her friends. Asher packed his things, stood up, and left with a group of boys. The classroom emptied quickly, leaving only me. I slumped onto my desk, resting my chin on my arms. The hallway chatter faded into the distance, and the hunger returned with a vengeance. It felt like a small, sharp claw scratching at the lining of my stomach. I reached into my pocket. Fifty cents. That was all I had. After a long internal debate, I walked down to the school store. The small shop was relatively quiet. The cheapest snack bar was a dollar fifty. I stood before the shelf, staring at a small packet of crackers for a long time, swallowing hard. Maybe I stood there too long, because the cashier looked up. “Can I help you find something, sweetie?” I couldn’t afford anything. I shook my head and bolted out the door. I walked to the quiet grove behind the old school building. Almost nobody came here. I hid myself in the shadow of a large oak tree. The floating text flared up again. 【Lmao, she can’t even afford a dollar bar.】 【Just steal from Asher again. It’s not like you haven’t done it a million times.】 【A thief trying to act righteous. Hilarious. Enjoy starving, you brought this on yourself.】 I kept quiet. I knew what I did was wrong. I wouldn’t do it again. But the text didn’t care. It kept scrolling across my field of vision. As I stared blankly at the words, laughter echoed from down the path. I looked up to see Asher and a few other boys walking by. He held a cold bottle of soda, his long fingers wrapped around the glass. The sunlight caught the condensation, making it glint painfully bright. I shrank back behind the oak tree, hiding myself completely. I waited until their footsteps fully faded before I dared to creep out and head back to the classroom. I walked slowly, and by the time I returned, Asher was already there. His soda sat half-finished on his desk, right next to the strawberry brioche from this morning. I averted my eyes immediately, pretending to organize my books. My head throbbed, a dizzy spell washed over me, and my stomach twisted in pain. 6 The teacher’s voice sounded like it was coming from underwater. I rested my head on my desk, my hand clutching my stomach as a sharp cramp tore through it. The acidity was rising in my throat. I buried my face in my sleeves, hoping the darkness would dull the pain. 【Oh please, she skipped one lunch and she’s acting like she’s been starving for three days.】 【Is this how a scholarship kid behaves? Sleeping in class? She doesn’t deserve the financial aid Oakridge gives her.】 【She’s not here to learn. She’s here to bag a rich guy. Why else would she wedge herself next to Asher?】 【Exactly. She keeps staring at his desk. Her intentions are so obvious.】 I bit my lip so hard I tasted copper, my nails digging into my arms. I wanted to scream. I wanted to defend myself. But I couldn’t. I was a scholarship student, and I did stare at Asher’s desk. But it wasn’t to seduce him. Not that anyone would believe me. 7 “Stella?” The teacher’s voice snapped me back to reality. I stood up, my mind a complete blank. I hadn’t been paying attention at all. Every eye in the room turned to me. Heat rushed to my face, burning hot. The teacher repeated, “What is the solution to problem four on the board?” I stared at the whiteboard. There were three different equations, and I didn’t even know which one she was pointing to. I stood frozen, my fingers desperately clutching the fabric of my skirt, unable to utter a single word. The text mocked me relentlessly. 【Hahaha, look at her. Completely clueless.】 【Scholarship kid? More like charity case. She’s slow and lazy.】 【Just sit down. You’re embarrassing yourself.】 My vision blurred, tears welling up in my eyes. Just then, Audrey slightly turned her head. In a whisper meant only for me, she said, “It’s B.” The teacher saw my distress and sighed. “Sit down, Stella. Please pay attention.” 8 When the bell finally rang, the teacher gathered her papers and left. The class scattered into their usual groups, some chatting by the lockers, others napping on their desks. I sat still, pretending to write. My stomach was empty, aching, and my head spun with every breath. The floating text kept going. 【Seriously, how long is she going to milk this? It’s just one missed meal. Great acting, though.】 【So young, yet so manipulative. It’s disgusting.】 I wasn’t acting. I was genuinely starving. But there was no way to explain that to a bunch of invisible voices who had already decided I was a villain. My pen bled a dark ink stain onto my scrap paper. I took a deep breath, moving the pen away. I could handle this. I just needed to focus on my schoolwork. Then, Audrey turned around, looking frantic. “Stella, hey, do you happen to have a pad? My period started unexpectedly, and my locker is empty.” 9 My hand tightened around my bag. I did. In the deepest pocket of my backpack, wrapped in a cheap plastic bag, was a pack of generic sanitary pads. I had bought them online. Eight dollars for a box of a hundred. No brand name. Coarse packaging. They felt stiff and rough. They often gave me rashes. How could I lend something like that to Audrey? She always used high-end, organic brands. I was too ashamed to offer her something so cheap and potentially unsafe. I stammered, “I… let me check my bag.” I unzipped my bag, pretending to search, my fingers brushing against the crinkly, stiff plastic. I pulled my hand back as if I had been burned. The comments flared instantly. 【She definitely has one, she just doesn’t want to share.】 【How petty. Audrey is always nice to her.】 【She’s just jealous of Audrey. Audrey is pretty, rich, and perfect for Asher.】 【She’s rotten to the core.】 I bit my lip, looked up, and lied. “I’m sorry, Audrey. I don’t have any.” 10 “Oh, okay,” Audrey said gently. “I’ll ask someone else.” She was about to turn around when two boys came wrestling down the aisle. With a loud crash, they slammed right into my desk. My backpack slid off the chair, hitting the floor. The zipper broke, and everything spilled out across the floor. Pencils, erasers, notebooks… and the cheap plastic bag holding the rough sanitary pads. It rolled right to Audrey’s feet. The blood drained from my face. I dropped to my knees, frantically grabbing at my things, trying to stuff them back into the bag. But it was too late. Audrey had already seen it. She looked down, then up at me, confused. “Stella… you do have them. Why did you say you didn’t?”

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The first night I stayed at my best friend’s apartment, someone entered my room. I struggled desperately, but the person pinned both my wrists above my head. “It’s been a month. Didn’t you miss me?” The man’s voice was low, clean, and dangerously attractive. Before I could speak, he kissed me hard. “Nora, I’m back.” Just then, my best friend Paige’s voice came from outside the door. The man above me froze. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Who are you?” Trembling, I answered, “I’m Noelle Price.” “Damn it.” He cursed under his breath and immediately got off me. In the dark, he took out his phone and sent a message. The footsteps outside the door abruptly stopped. Soon, Paige turned and left. A moment later, the sound of the front door closing came from outside. Only then did I let out a breath. After confirming Paige had left, I turned on the bedside lamp. The room flooded with light. Reid Langford’s sharply defined, handsome face appeared in front of me. He was Paige’s boyfriend. Paige had told me he was away on a business trip and wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon. But for some reason, he had returned tonight. My clothes were disheveled, my face burning red. I pulled the blanket around myself and shrank into the corner of the bed defensively. Seeing the panic on my face, regret flashed across Reid’s brows. “I’m sorry. You were sleeping in Paige’s room and wearing her pajamas. I mistook you for her.” “…” I was still shaken and couldn’t speak for a long time. After calming down, I whispered, “I know. It was a misunderstanding.” Reid and Paige had been dating for almost a year. He was somewhat cold and quiet. During the few meals we had shared, we had exchanged no more than three sentences. If I hadn’t been staying at Paige’s place tonight, this ridiculous mistake never would have happened. “Thank you.” Hearing me say that, Reid’s tense expression finally eased. Then, as if remembering something, he turned and opened the bedroom door. “I’ll go downstairs first. I told her I was stopped by security at the gate. If she doesn’t see me, it’ll cause trouble.” Ten minutes later, Paige came upstairs. But she was alone. “Nora, were you asleep in the room just now?” “Yeah. I was tired, so I went to bed early. Did you call me when you came back?” “I did. But Reid suddenly came looking for me, so I went downstairs.” Hearing Reid’s name made me feel slightly uncomfortable. “Why didn’t he come up?” “I told him you were staying here these few days. It’s late, and he thought it’d be awkward for a grown man to come upstairs, so he left.” Seeing that everything seemed normal with Paige, my heart settled a little. That night, after Paige fell asleep, I tossed and turned, unable to rest. My mind kept flashing back to those intimate moments with Reid. His hot breath against my neck and chest. His burning palm roaming over my waist. His firm, strong body pressed close to mine. The harder I tried to suppress those images, the more they spread through me like a virus, invading every nerve. Paige had said Reid treated her well, but in that aspect, he was a little cold. But just now, he had been anything but cold. He had been like a starving wolf. The next evening, Paige invited Reid over, and the three of us went to a nearby restaurant. After ordering, Paige left for the restroom. Only Reid and I remained in the private room. We had never spoken much to begin with. He was quiet, and I was introverted. After what happened last night, being alone with him made the atmosphere even more awkward. After a while of silence, I reached for the kettle, wanting to pour myself water just to have something to do. But Reid reached out at the same time. The moment his cool fingertips brushed mine, I jerked my hand back as if shocked by electricity. Noticing my reaction, Reid froze too. The tips of his ears reddened slightly. A moment later, he still picked up the kettle and poured me a cup of water. “Are you still bothered by what happened last night?” Reid handed me the glass. I looked at his long, well-defined fingers, and my face heated. “No… not anymore. It was an accident. We both know that.” I lowered my eyes and accepted the glass, trying to look calm. But my mind uncontrollably connected those beautiful hands to everything they had done. The heat of his palm traveling down my waist. Every inch bringing a burning, tingling sensation. I hadn’t really dated much. Aside from a three-month college relationship that never went beyond hugging and kissing, I had never had intimate contact with a man. What Reid did to me had been a first. “Don’t worry. I’ll pretend nothing happened. You didn’t do it on purpose, and I won’t tell Paige and affect your relationship.” Paige was my best friend. I had never thought of anything happening between me and her boyfriend. Reid hadn’t caused me any real harm. Letting it pass was best for everyone. “Thank you.” Soon, Paige returned. Our conversation ended there. Near the end of the meal, Paige answered a call and said there was an urgent issue at work, so she needed to go back and work overtime. She asked Reid to drive me home. Reid agreed. Because Reid had been on a business trip these past few days, Paige had asked me to stay with her. Now that Reid was back and would often go to her place, it was naturally inappropriate for me to continue staying there. My rented apartment was in an old residential complex. Cars couldn’t enter, and there weren’t even streetlights nearby. Reid was worried it would be unsafe for me to walk alone, so he politely escorted me downstairs. When we reached the entrance, the security guard who knew me came over. “Oh, your boyfriend’s walking you home today? Handsome guy. You’ve got good taste, young lady.” My face flushed instantly. I hurriedly waved my hands. “No, sir, you’re mistaken. He’s not my boyfriend. Don’t say that.” “Still shy? What’s there to be embarrassed about? A boyfriend this handsome isn’t something to hide.” The guard didn’t believe me and teased me further. I glanced awkwardly at Reid, who had remained silent, and wanted to crawl into a hole. “He’s my best friend’s boyfriend. He just dropped me off on the way.” Seeing how flustered I was, the guard finally realized his mistake. He apologized and walked away. “Um… thank you for bringing me home. I’ll go upstairs now. You should head back too.” “Mm.” After getting home, I collapsed onto the sofa, feeling as if all the air had leaked out of me. That security guard really thought too highly of me. Someone ordinary and forgettable like me could never have a boyfriend like Reid. He was six foot two, broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted. His face looked sculpted, so handsome even celebrities couldn’t compare. Maybe because of my personality since childhood, I had always been instinctively afraid of men with intense, striking beauty. But Paige was different. She was a bright, bold beauty. In both appearance and temperament, she matched Reid perfectly. Still, I did have a pursuer of my own. The next morning, when I arrived at the office, there was a sandwich and a latte on my desk. Beside them was a note. Remember to eat breakfast properly. It wasn’t the first time I had received breakfast. I also knew who had left it. Tyler Brooks. A colleague from the neighboring department. We had added each other on Messenger because of work. He had been pursuing me for some time now. From thoughtful breakfasts to afternoon desserts, he never missed a day. “A love breakfast. I’m so jealous.” Paige appeared behind me at some point and patted my shoulder with a smile. “Is it Tyler?” “Yeah.” I nodded. “He’s really thoughtful. Reid has never done little considerate things like this for me.” Paige said it casually, then went back to her own desk. I took out my phone and messaged Tyler. Thank you for breakfast. I’ll eat it properly. He replied quickly. Then I’ll bring it for you every day. During lunch break, I quietly asked Paige, “What do you think of Tyler?” Paige and I had only been at the company for a year. Tyler was a senior employee, two years older than us. “He’s not bad. You can try getting to know him.” “You think he’s good too?” “Compared with Reid, he’s far off, but he’s still a clean-cut handsome guy. And he’s capable at work.” “Yeah. He’s nice and very proactive.” “Then give it a try. If you two get together, we can go on double dates.” That night, our department had a dinner gathering. Unexpectedly, Tyler came too. I was a little happy. I thought he must have come because of me. He chose a love song, and while singing, he kept looking at me. Paige sat beside me and whispered, “So sweet.” She made me embarrassed, and I kept lowering my head to drink water. Later, everyone played games together, and the atmosphere was good. After drinking too much water, I went to the restroom. When I came out, I saw Paige and Tyler leaving the private room together and walking toward the end of the hallway. I found it strange. They had barely spoken earlier, but the way they walked out together looked very familiar. I followed them. I never expected to see Tyler and Paige embracing behind the emergency exit door. Because they were around a corner, they couldn’t see me. But I could see them clearly. “What do you like about Noelle?” Paige leaned against Tyler’s chest and smiled up at him. “Noelle looks obedient and pure. She seems suitable as a girlfriend.” Tyler answered, but the way he looked at Paige was burning hot. “Hah. She’s boring. Her personality is so stiff. Wouldn’t dating her be dull?” At Paige’s words, my back stiffened. “But she is easy to chase. She has basically no dating experience. If you’re just a little nice to her, she’ll get moved.” Paige’s tone was full of mockery and disdain. I stood there as if someone had poured a basin of cold water over my head. “The person I actually like is you. But you have a boyfriend. So I can only settle for second best.” “You won’t chase me just because I have a boyfriend?” “I do love my boyfriend. But it’s not like I can’t spare some time and energy for you.” “Besides, you have advantages my boyfriend doesn’t.” “What?” Tyler asked curiously. Paige’s fingers brushed his lips. “You’re good at kissing.” “My boyfriend is handsome, but in that area, he’s cold.” Hearing that, Tyler kissed her immediately. Paige hooked her arms around his neck, and the two kissed as if they couldn’t bear to part. Seeing that scene, I could hardly believe it. Was this the Paige I knew? She was the one who had encouraged me to try things with Tyler. Yet behind my back, she was entangled with him while belittling and mocking me. I didn’t know when it had started. But I didn’t want to believe that my best friend of more than ten years could be this kind of person. Just as I was about to rush forward and confront them, someone suddenly grabbed my wrist. I whipped around. There stood Reid, his face dark. I froze. When had he appeared? Had he heard everything Paige and Tyler said? “Reid, you—” Before I could finish, Reid pulled me into a small side room. The door closed, and I found myself pinned in front of him. In the dim space, there were only our bodies pressed together and our tangled breaths. “Paige said I’m cold and bad at kissing. What do you think?” “…” My eyes widened. My heart pounded like a drum. “Why… why are you asking me?” Reid leaned closer, his sharp, beautiful face almost touching mine. “Didn’t you experience it that night?” My face exploded red at Reid’s words. I couldn’t speak at all. The next second, Reid’s expression became deeply sad. At such a close distance, I could smell alcohol on his breath. Paige had said he worked in the marketing department and sometimes had to drink with clients. I didn’t expect it to be such a coincidence that he was at the same KTV tonight and accidentally witnessed Paige cheating. “To be honest, I never thought Paige would betray me.” Reid’s voice was dark and low, clean but desolate. I was silent. After all, Paige hadn’t only betrayed Reid. She had betrayed me too. I had treated her as my best friend. But behind my back, she was involved with the man pursuing me and had degraded me like I was worthless. “My parents divorced when I was in elementary school.” “The rare time my father took me to school, he ended up hooking up with a classmate’s mother.” “Was that my fault?” Reid’s usually cold, composed face became painfully fragile. His dark, beautiful eyes seemed to glisten faintly. My heart moved. I felt a quiet ache for him. “Was it my fault? Was I too cold, and that’s why Paige betrayed me?” Reid looked at me. At that moment, the questioning heat in his eyes seemed able to set me on fire. Memories of that night flooded back like a tide. Suddenly, I felt thirsty. My senses, breath, and heartbeat no longer felt like my own. When Reid leaned against my shoulder, breathing unevenly, I suddenly panicked and pushed him away. “You’re drunk. Calm down.” After saying that, I quickly fled the room. Everything was too crazy. When I returned to the private room, Paige and Tyler were already back. Seeing me, Paige immediately held my arm affectionately. “Where did you go? Tyler was looking for you just now.” “To the restroom.” I was still shaken, but seeing Paige’s fake smile, I couldn’t help pulling my arm from her hand. “Come on, sing a duet together. Tyler has been waiting forever.” Paige pointed at Tyler nearby. Tyler pretended to be shy, holding the microphone and looking at me expectantly. I was almost shocked by their acting skills. Unfortunately, I didn’t have acting skills that good. “I’m not feeling well. I’m leaving first.” A few days later, Paige suddenly came to me crying, saying Reid had broken up with her. I asked why. She hesitated and lied, saying it was because of small life conflicts and incompatible personalities. Of course I knew the real reason. But seeing how heartbroken she looked, I didn’t expose her. Tyler had only been pursuing me. Although I had felt a faint liking for him, that was all. Now that I knew he didn’t truly like me, I could simply ignore him. But Paige… She was my only close friend. We had known each other since middle school. By now, it had been over ten years. Since childhood, I had been soft-tempered, and my family wasn’t well-off. Sometimes classmates bullied me. After Paige became my friend, she always stood in front of me to protect me and speak up for me. At the age when girls cared about beauty, I wore washed-out T-shirts and jeans every day. She gave me brand-new dresses she had never worn without hesitation. From school to work, she had given me so much help and love. I remembered all of it. I would not forgive Tyler. But I selectively forgave Paige. Paige stopped crying and hugged me tighter in grievance. “Mm. Noelle, thank goodness you’re here with me. You’re so good to me.” Because Reid had discovered Paige’s cheating, Paige no longer kept contact with Tyler privately. So Tyler pursued me even harder. Besides the breakfast that arrived every day without fail, he found all kinds of excuses to send me flowers and gifts, even claiming he was on the way so he could drive me home. But I only felt disgusted. After I refused his movie invitation for the third time, Tyler finally showed his true face. After working overtime, Tyler came up behind me and grabbed my wrist. “Noelle, what are you pretending for? You took so many breakfasts and gifts from me, flirted with me on Messenger for so long, and now suddenly you say you’re not interested? Are you playing me?” “Let go of me.” I had no idea what had gotten into him. “I’ll convert everything into cash and pay you back. Please stop pestering me.” “You think you can end it just because you say so? Do you really think I’m some worthless bootlicker?” “Please respect yourself. I didn’t force you to do any of those things.” I didn’t want to tangle with Tyler and turned to leave. He chased after me and grabbed my bag. In the pushing and pulling, I accidentally fell to the ground. Tyler tried to come help me, but someone knocked him down with one punch. “Stay away from her.” I looked up. Reid stood in front of me, glaring angrily at Tyler. Tyler was stunned by the punch and ran off in embarrassment. “Noelle, are you okay?” Reid helped me up. “I’m fine. I just fell by accident.” I instinctively waved my hand. During the struggle with Tyler, my collar had been pulled open, exposing a large area of skin at my chest. Reid noticed and immediately took off his jacket, handing it to me. “Put this on first.” I looked down and only then realized how disheveled I looked. I quickly accepted it and put it on. “Thank you.” Then Reid’s gaze suddenly fell on my chest, becoming deep. I froze, and my heart jumped. But I quickly realized he was looking at my collarbone. There was a pink butterfly birthmark there. I had been born with it. I didn’t know if it was my imagination, but Reid’s gaze seemed mixed with shock and hesitation. Why was he staring there? Was it because Paige had a similar scar near her collarbone? Instinctively, I tightened the jacket collar and covered myself completely. “I’m sorry.” Noticing my movement, Reid abruptly came back to himself and apologized with a red face. After a moment, he returned to his usual calmness. “I’ll take you home.” I nodded and followed Reid into the car. After that day, Tyler no longer bothered me. Paige, meanwhile, was busy trying to get back together with Reid. She called him every day, went to his place repeatedly, and even came to my apartment in the middle of the night to drink and cry. I thought she really loved him. But I never expected that even when someone liked another person so much, their body could still cheat. At the end of the month, during a meeting, our department manager assigned Paige a major project for the year. But this time, Paige said she wasn’t capable enough and asked me to handle the project with her. “The company values this project a lot. If we do well, promotions and raises at year-end are almost guaranteed. Noelle, you’re my best friend. Of course I’d pull you into something this good.” Hearing Paige say that, I was touched. Maybe back then, she had just acted on impulse and wanted to feel superior with Tyler. Because we had to discuss project details, the client asked us to meet at a restaurant. They booked a large private room. The project discussion went smoothly, except that several client representatives kept toasting Paige and me. Paige knew I couldn’t drink, so she kept blocking drinks for me. She had a high tolerance. But after four or five glasses, even I couldn’t bear to watch. “I’ll take this one.” I looked at Paige’s flushed cheeks and took the glass from in front of her. Then I drank it in one go. “Ms. Price is straightforward too.” The man who spoke was Grant Lewis, forty years old, a successful vice president at the client company. Mr. Lewis looked at me with satisfaction. Later, he specifically toasted me. I had no choice but to drink another glass. Soon, my head spun. I couldn’t hold my liquor and lost consciousness.

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1 While we were eating takeout, Owen Hale suddenly picked up a shrimp and expertly removed the vein. I smiled and reached out. “Don’t you usually say that’s too much trouble? Why so careful today?” Without looking up, he moved past my hand and placed the peeled shrimp neatly into the food container. “Because Lina’s back.” My hand froze in midair. Right. Only when he was with Lina Ward did he suddenly learn these “details.” Removing veins from shrimp, peeling grapes, picking seeds from watermelon. Always twisting open a bottle cap before handing her water. With me, he only ever said one thing. “Skye’s rough. She doesn’t care about stuff like that.” But for some reason, looking at that shrimp today, I suddenly cared. “If she’s back, then we should end this too.” Calmly, I removed the engagement ring from my finger. Who doesn’t like silk and satin? This love, rough as burlap, should have been thrown away long ago. Owen’s hands didn’t stop. He finished peeling the last shrimp and said casually, “What nonsense are you saying now?” I opened my mouth, but before I could make a sound, he stood and cut me off. “She should be arriving soon. I’m going to wait for her at the airport.” He placed an insulated food container on the table, one I had never seen before, and put all the shrimp and pastries inside. “She’s been on a plane for more than ten hours. She must be hungry. Let her eat something first.” “She loves this place’s braised shrimp.” I looked at the container and said nothing. I suddenly remembered one winter, when I had such bad cramps that I asked Owen to bring me brown sugar water. He brought it in a plastic bottle, already completely cold. “A thermos? Sorry, I didn’t know we had one at home.” “I didn’t think it would cool that fast.” So it wasn’t that he hadn’t thought of it. He simply never thought that carefully for me. “I already booked dinner tonight,” Owen said, picking up his keys, speaking quickly. “Go to the restaurant early and wait for us.” “Remember to tell them again that Lina hates the smell of sesame oil. None of the dishes can have any.” “Also no onion or celery. Absolutely none.” “I’m not going,” I said calmly. “You two can eat. I’m going home.” Owen finally stopped. “What is wrong with you?” He frowned. “Lina is your friend, and you’re my partner. Is it appropriate not to welcome her back?” I tugged the corner of my mouth into a self-mocking smile. He didn’t actually want to bring me. He just thought that if I didn’t go, Lina might feel awkward and overthink. What a thoughtful man. But I no longer wanted to be the fool who helped decorate his thoughtfulness. “There’s nothing inappropriate about it. We haven’t seen each other in years. We’re not that close anymore.” “And we’ve broken up, so I’m not your partner either.” Owen’s face sank completely. “Skye Hart, I’m tired. I don’t have the energy to guess your thoughts every second.” “If you want to make a scene, suit yourself.” He slammed the door and didn’t look back. Every fight between us basically ended this way. He never wondered why I was upset. As long as he gave me the cold shoulder for a while, I would come back to him on my own. But not this time. After cleaning up the takeout trash, I went home alone. Owen didn’t come back. Two hours later, he appeared in Lina’s social media photos. Thank you, Designer Owen, for the welcome dinner. The gift is beautiful. I love it so much~ Someone quickly commented: “Isn’t that the bracelet you liked a month ago that sold out? Owen made you an identical one?” “That’s basically a custom piece. That’s so thoughtful.” “Lina, when are you going to lock down such a good man?” More teasing comments followed. Lina soon replied: “Don’t talk nonsense. He’s already taken. Don’t make my friend misunderstand!” I unconsciously zoomed in on the photo, staring at that delicate bracelet. It was as if it had wrapped around my heart and tightened. No wonder his fingers had been covered in cuts lately. No wonder he had been locking himself in the study day and night and refusing to let me near. So he had been busy with this. He was a jewelry designer. As long as Lina wanted something, he could give it to her. But when choosing my engagement ring, he walked into a store and said only one sentence. “Which one sells best? That one.” The wrong size, the wrong style, slipped carelessly onto my finger. Fortunately, I had finally thrown it in the trash. “Didn’t you once say you wanted to marry me?” I opened my phone and sent a wedding ring design draft to an unfamiliar number. “Then make me an identical ring.” “When it’s done, I’ll say yes.” The reply came quickly and simply. Okay. I let out a long breath and put down my phone. Three hours later, I received a message from one of Owen’s childhood friends. “Skye, Owen drank too much tonight because he was happy. He’s sleeping at my place.” “I know you don’t mind this stuff, but I figured I’d tell you anyway.” I looked down and didn’t reply. Owen never reported small things like this to me, and he never cared whether I would worry. The time I remembered most clearly was when his phone went dead and I saw news of a major car accident downstairs from his company. I panicked so badly I almost fainted. In the end, I found him at a bar. “Owen, you’re really not going to tell Skye?” “No need.” Drunk, he waved a hand. “She’s careless, like one of the guys. She doesn’t care about this stuff.” “Oh, then Skye is really easy. You’re lucky, man.” Actually, back then, I had wondered. Was I easy? Or did he simply not care about me? Now, I finally had my answer. I closed my eyes and let the sour tears spill over. I didn’t sleep all night. The next morning, as soon as I opened the door, someone threw herself into my arms. “Skye, I’m back!” “Owen said you weren’t feeling well yesterday. How are you today?” The girl in front of me smiled like a flower. The perfume on her body smelled exactly like the scent Owen had been using recently. I forced a smile and said I was fine. Then I listened as she chattered on. “I heard you two are getting engaged next week. If there’s anything you need help with, just tell me.” “All right, stop fussing. Does your head still hurt?” Owen pulled her to sit down. “I’ll make you some honey water for the hangover.” He walked into the kitchen and found a jar of honey with practiced ease. But the last time I had asked him to get it for me, he said he had no idea where it was. “No need,” I said, suddenly exhausted. “We’ve already broken up. Don’t trouble yourself.” In the kitchen, the sound of the spoon stirring suddenly stopped. Lina shot to her feet too. “Skye, don’t say something stupid.” She hovered around me, eyes full of concern, trying to persuade me not to be impulsive. But Owen soon came out and took her hand, leading her to the balcony. “If you’re really upset and anxious, don’t force a smile. Let her calm down on her own.” I heard his low voice. “Huh? How did you tell?” “Because when you get anxious, you unconsciously pinch the middle finger of your right hand.” Such a tiny movement, and Owen could see it clearly. Yet when I cried in front of him until my face was soaked, he never wiped away even one tear. “Her? She’s rough. She’ll forget after a few days. No need to coax her.” “Don’t talk about me first. Why did Skye suddenly break up with you? Did you do something wrong to her?” Lina huffed. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll ask her myself.” She ran out of the balcony straight toward the bedroom. But the moment she opened the door, she nearly ran into the broken-glass wind chime hanging there. “Why would you hang something this sharp by the door?” Owen hurriedly pulled Lina into his arms and checked whether her face had been scratched. I watched them in silence. That wind chime was Lina’s handmade project from years ago. I had been cut by the glass countless times. My face, my arms, all had bled because of it. But Owen had never agreed to take it down. He said he wanted to keep it as a memory. “It’s been so long. Why keep this broken thing?” Lina complained sweetly. Owen immediately took it down and threw it into the trash. And my heart felt as if it had been tossed in along with it. “Skye, don’t overthink.” Lina held my hand and comforted me. “In my heart, you’ve always been like a towering tree, unlike me, just a spoiled little blade of grass that needs someone to shelter her.” She smiled. “Don’t you remember? Your story with Owen began because you saved him back then.” It was an unintentional remark. But Owen and I both froze. Yes. Back then. The first time I met him, it was in a filthy alley full of dirty rainwater. He was thin and weak, cornered and beaten bloody. I stepped forward, chased all the bullies away, and dragged him to the hospital. “Little stick, how are you so weak? Even I’m stronger than you.” At that time, I was already famous as a tomboy. But I had no choice. To protect my mother from my father’s abuse, I had to grow up fast. I had to learn to speak with my fists and protect myself. I remembered that night. Owen lay in the hospital bed, his eyes shining as he looked at me. He followed me for six full years. It wasn’t until we got into the same college that I agreed to be with him. After we got together, sometimes I felt different from those delicate, pretty women. Too rough. Too hard. And Owen told me again and again that in his heart, I was the light that pulled him out of the abyss. No matter what I was like, I was the best. Until Lina, that timid transfer student, joined us. Everything changed. Because I was independent and strong and lived roughly, I didn’t need care. Lina was fragile, so she needed careful protection and thoughtful attention. He gave Lina everything he decided I “didn’t care about.” But he never asked whether I truly didn’t care. “Even the tallest tree needs sunlight and rain.” I smiled in relief and let go of Lina’s hand. “But he can’t give me that.” “So we were never meant to keep walking together.” I returned to the bedroom, took my suitcase, and pushed open the front door. “Skye Hart!” Owen finally chased after me and snapped, “What exactly are you making a scene about? Lina comes back, and you want to break up with me?” “How do you think that makes her feel?” A dull pain spread through my heart. “Then why don’t you ask how I feel?” Even now, the thing you care about most is still her mood? “So what is it because of?” he demanded again and again. “Because of that shrimp? Because I went to pick her up?” He suddenly grabbed my hand and sneered. “Or because of that ring you didn’t like?” I looked at him in a daze. So you knew. “None of those,” I shook my head. “It’s because I don’t like you anymore.” Evening wind swept through the corridor. Everything fell so quiet it made the heart panic. “How is that possible?” After a long while, I heard a scoff above my head. “We’re getting engaged next week. If you don’t marry me, who else can you marry?” “With that personality of yours.” My heart hurt so badly it felt like it might stop. But I didn’t answer. I kept dragging my suitcase forward. With a bang, Owen slammed the door behind me. Three days later, I went to my company and submitted my resignation. “Reason for resignation… not adapting to the climate here?” My manager looked at me in surprise. “But you’ve done very well all these years.” A bitter smile appeared on my lips. That was because I had been compromising for him. The climate of this city didn’t suit me. In spring, the damp, rainy weather always gave me rashes. They hurt and itched and could never be cured. But Owen always pretended not to see. He told me to endure it, and it would pass. Yet back in college, with Lina, even a tiny wound made him remind her not to touch water. At meals, he carefully picked the chilies out of her food. I had deceived myself for so many years. Now, it was time to wake up. “All right. I respect your decision.” My manager didn’t say more and quickly signed. When I returned to the hotel, I found two boxes outside my door. One was the wedding ring that man had made for me according to my design. The other was a new engagement ring from Owen. It cost twice as much as the one I had thrown away. “Skye Hart, are you satisfied now?” Owen’s call came quickly. “I’m helping Lina choose her bridesmaid dress. Next Wednesday, we’ll get our marriage license first, then hold the engagement party.” He spoke casually. In the background, I could faintly hear Lina laughing. I thought of my own engagement dress. Online search, filter by best sellers, place order, delivered. I smiled, said nothing, and hung up. Then I sent a message to another person. “I received the ring. Next Wednesday, see you at the courthouse.” No one stays in place forever. Now, I only wanted to move forward. But I didn’t expect that on Tuesday night, I would suddenly discover that something was missing from my suitcase. I hurried back to Owen’s apartment. The moment I pushed open the door, I saw the birthday party he had prepared for Lina. He was sitting at the dining table, focused on cracking crab for her. “Lina, when you get a boyfriend someday, you must find someone as attentive as Owen.” “Well, depends on who he’s with. I’ve never seen Owen crack crab for Skye.” “Of course not. With a tomboy like her, Owen’s thoughtfulness has nowhere to go.” Lina’s face flushed as she scolded them for talking nonsense. Owen smiled softly. Then he turned and met my eyes. The hall instantly fell silent. Without looking sideways, I walked straight into the bedroom and opened the drawer. Empty. My face changed instantly. “Owen Hale, where is the necklace I kept in here?” At the door, Owen stared at my calm face and suddenly felt an inexplicable irritation. “I gave it to Lina’s dog to play with,” he said lightly. “Her dog was in a bad mood, and Lina said it likes shiny things, so I found a necklace for it.” “Anyway, you never wear delicate things like that—” Before he finished, the little dog happened to jump onto a tall cabinet with the necklace in its mouth. “Give it back to me!” My whole body trembled as I shouted. The little dog tilted its head unconsciously and opened its mouth. I didn’t catch it in time. I watched as the jade necklace fell. Then shattered into pieces across the floor. “Skye, I’m sorry.” Lina hurried to her feet, eyes red. “Owen said it was some fake thing he bought casually. I thought it wasn’t worth much…” I dropped to my knees and burst into tears. It was my mother’s keepsake. The last thing she left me. “It’s just an object. You’ve never cared much about looks or accessories anyway. If it broke, it broke.” Seeing me sobbing, Owen’s eyes flashed with a trace of pity. “I’ll buy you a new one later.” “Today is Lina’s birthday. Don’t ruin everyone’s mood.” I knelt there in a daze. I heard my heart, like that jade, shatter piece by piece. I slowly picked up the fragments without speaking, until both my hands were soaked in blood. “You—” Owen panicked and reached for me. I avoided him. “I really don’t care,” I looked up and smiled at him. “From now on, I won’t care about anything.” Including you. Owen’s heart suddenly sank. He wanted to chase after me, but Lina’s crying stopped him. Forget it. After getting the license tomorrow, he would explain and apologize to me. Owen thought that with my personality, I probably didn’t even know how to spell sensitive. By tomorrow, I would likely forget. Besides, I had been looking forward to marrying him for so long. He forced down the unease in his chest and had pleasant dreams all night. The next morning, after waking, he changed clothes early. But he deliberately planned to arrive half an hour late. “Owen, aren’t you afraid Skye will really stand you up and cut ties?” “How could that happen? Look at Skye’s feed. She’s already at the courthouse and even posted a photo.” Owen paused, then smiled with certainty and opened my post. “Wait. Why did she post a marriage certificate? Owen hasn’t even gone yet.” “She… who did she marry?” The group chat exploded. The next second, the wedding photo popped up clearly in Owen’s eyes.

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1 After I was diagnosed with severe depression, I gave up every trace of possessiveness I had toward my CEO wife. I stopped asking about her schedule. When Bianca Vale came home smelling of men’s cologne, I could still smile and help her take off her coat. Even when I got into a car accident during a business trip and the doctor told me to contact a family member to sign for treatment, I only said, “I don’t have any family.” The nurse looked at my information and hesitated. “Aren’t you Ms. Vale’s husband? She happens to be downstairs inspecting the hospital today. Should I tell her?” I smiled and waved it off. “No need.” But half an hour later, Bianca still pushed open the door of my ward. Her brows were tightly furrowed, her tone full of blame. “Why didn’t you call me after a car accident?” I flipped through the documents on my phone. “Minor injury. I didn’t want to waste Ms. Vale’s time.” The polite, distant form of address made Bianca freeze. She had just opened her mouth when her assistant whispered outside the door. “Ms. Vale is really generous with that new intern. The boy said he wanted to see the ocean, so she pushed off meetings worth hundreds of millions and rented a luxury yacht to spend the whole day with him.” Bianca looked at me instinctively, probably expecting me to scream and interrogate her like before. But I didn’t even lift my head. I only quietly looked at the divorce agreement draft my lawyer had just sent. Bianca stood by the hospital bed, and the explanation she had prepared got stuck in her throat. She coughed, trying to break the deathly silence in the room. “Noah just graduated. His project won an award, and he’s under a lot of pressure.” “I took the whole team out for a group-building day to relax. Don’t lock yourself at home all day and overthink.” I locked my phone screen and looked up at her, my face calm. “I understand.” Then I pointed toward the door. “Noah Carter is outside, isn’t he? Don’t keep him waiting.” Bianca followed my gaze. In the shadows of the corridor, Noah stood wearing a women’s custom couture trench coat. That coat had been my birthday gift to Bianca last month, personally customized by me. Noah was peering into the ward. When he realized I had noticed him, he quickly shrank back as if startled, but provocation hid in his eyes. A violent spasm suddenly twisted through my stomach. It was a physical reaction caused by long-term severe depression, accompanied by uncontrollable nausea. I covered my mouth and let out a suppressed dry heave. In the past, I would have clutched Bianca’s sleeve with a pale face, begging her to stay, begging her to be with me, begging her to tell me I was the one she loved most. Now, I only pulled out a tissue and wiped my mouth. “I’d like to rest alone. Ms. Vale, please do as you wish.” Bianca’s face turned completely dark when she heard “Ms. Vale.” She thought my nausea and indifference were carefully planned cold violence and protest. “Isaac, are you not even bothering to pretend anymore?” “As my husband, can’t you be a little more generous? Who are you showing that corpse face to all day?” She took a set of keys from her designer bag and threw them coldly onto my bedside table. “These are the keys to that penthouse studio you always wanted. The developer just finished the property transfer.” “Take them, and stop throwing tantrums. I still have more than a dozen executives waiting for me to go back to a meeting.” She didn’t even wait for me to answer. She turned and left, her high heels clicking rapidly against the floor. The moment the ward door closed, I heard her speak gently to Noah in the hallway. “He’s just spoiled by me. His temper is awful. Ignore him. Let’s go.” A nurse pushed the dressing cart in and saw the shiny keyring on my bedside table. “Sir, this keychain is so cute. Can you share the link?” Kindly, she picked it up to wipe it clean. I looked at the keychain. A childish crystal strawberry and pinyin letters were engraved on it. A few days ago, Bianca’s secretary had posted a photo in her feed. In the photo, Bianca’s back was visible as she accompanied Noah to a craft shop to make couple keychains. She had taken a cheap trinket used to coax another boy and handed it to me as compensation for the three years of dreams I had given up for her. “Throw it away.” I pointed to the yellow medical waste bin under the bed. The nurse paused, then obediently tossed it in. I took out my phone and called my lawyer, Mr. Wright. “Mr. Wright, is the divorce agreement ready?” “I don’t want any marital assets under her name. I’ll leave with nothing.” “My only condition is that it be handled as quickly as possible.” Mr. Wright sighed on the other end. “Mr. Shaw, Ms. Vale’s assets are enormous. If you take nothing, life may be very hard for you later.” I turned to look at the gloomy sky outside the window. In my bag was a one-way train ticket to a small town at the foot of the Ailao Mountains in Yunnan. “No. Leaving her is the only way I’ll live better.” Suddenly, hurried footsteps in high heels sounded outside the door. Bianca, who had just left, had somehow come back. She shoved the ward door open. Her chest rose and fell violently, and a shocking anger burned in her eyes. She strode to my bedside and snatched my phone. Her fingers clenched it so hard the veins on the back of her hand stood out. “Which slut are you calling? What do you mean, leaving her and living better?” Her eyes were red as she stared at my phone screen, trying to find evidence of my cheating. But there was nothing there. I calmly took the phone back from her hand. “Bianca, you misheard. I was telling the housekeeper to settle her wages and stop coming to clean.” Bianca studied me suspiciously, trying to find even the smallest trace of a lie. But I was too quiet. So quiet there was no flaw. Noah jogged in after her, panting, his face pale and sickly. He held a cup of warm water and carefully handed it to me. “Isaac, don’t be angry with Ms. Vale.” “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have said I wanted to see the ocean during the team outing. Ms. Vale only took everyone because she thought I was working too hard.” I looked at the women’s trench coat on Noah’s body and suddenly smiled. I reached out and took the cup. “Thank you for the water. I’m not angry, and I don’t blame you.” Noah’s words got stuck in his throat. The grievances he had prepared instantly became useless. He looked at me in astonishment, as if he had punched soft cotton and forgotten how to play the victim. Seeing me so obedient, Bianca’s anger eased a little. She adjusted her collar and said to me in a charitable tone, “It’s good that you can think clearly. I’ll come home early tonight and have dinner with you.” Then she took Noah and left the hospital. At dusk, I was discharged alone and returned to the vast, cold villa. I didn’t turn on the lights. I walked upstairs in the dark. I pulled my suitcase from the corner and neatly packed the old sketchbooks my grandmother had left me, along with my charcoal pencils. At the bottom of the wardrobe, I found the thick stack of kraft paper envelopes. Inside were all the severe depression diagnoses I had received from different hospitals over the past three years. Every time I woke in the middle of the night with my chest tight and my heart racing, wanting to jump from the balcony, I would call Bianca in tears. But every time, she was either in a meeting or staying late with Noah. “Isaac, can you stop pretending to be sick? Are you the most delicate person in the world?” Her scolding seemed to echo in my ears. Looking at those diagnoses, I suddenly felt that my three years of persistence had been one enormous joke. I placed all the medical reports, half-used medication bottles, and the expensive watches she had given me over the past five years neatly on the most visible coffee table in the living room. These things were my final severance. The clock on the wall pointed to ten at night. The front door beeped, followed by Bianca’s tipsy laughter. She pushed the door open, with a slightly drunk Noah following behind. Noah held a pot of flowers in his arms. It was my lifeline. A pot of endangered cymbidium. I had spent three whole years carefully adjusting the soil acidity every day just to keep it alive. I had planned to use it as the graduation piece for my return to the illustration world. Bianca leaned against the entryway shoe cabinet and pointed at the plant in Noah’s arms. “Noah’s office was just renovated. There’s a lot of formaldehyde.” “You keep this useless weed at home all day anyway, so I told Noah to take it for a few days and purify the air.” Noah tightened his arms around the pot and gave me a provoking smile. “Isaac, I’m sorry. I just really like this plant. I’ll take good care of it.” As he spoke, he pretended to trip over the threshold. Noah cried out and fell forward. The flowerpot flew from his arms. With a sharp crash, the cymbidium I had cared for so carefully for three years, along with its custom purple clay pot, smashed against the hard marble floor. The pot shattered into countless pieces. The tender roots were crushed in the fertilized soil. Porcelain shards mixed with black dirt splattered across my white slippers. I looked at the cymbidium broken into three sections, and my breathing stopped for half a second. Noah clutched his ankle and apologized with a pained expression. “Isaac, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean it. I just lost my balance.” Bianca rushed over and helped Noah sit on the sofa. She anxiously checked his ankle. After confirming it was only slightly swollen, she let out a heavy breath of relief. Then she turned to me, eyes full of disgust, and shouted, “Isaac Shaw, what is that look?” “It’s just a stupid weed. Is it worth staring at Noah like you want to eat him alive?” “Tomorrow I’ll have my secretary buy you a greenhouse full of rare plants at auction. Now apologize to Noah immediately.” In the past, I would have rushed up like a madman, slapped Noah several times, then held the shattered roots and sobbed. But now, my heartbeat was steady. I turned and went into the kitchen, then came back with a broom and trash bag. I crouched down and swept the broken porcelain and soil into the trash as if cleaning up ordinary garbage. The dead cymbidium went in too, mixed with dirt. My indifferent attitude made Bianca deeply uncomfortable. She walked up to me and snatched the broom from my hand. “Isaac, what’s wrong with you? Did that car accident knock your brain loose?” “All day long, you look miserable and act like a victim. Who in this family owes you anything?” Noah peeked from the sofa and timidly tugged Bianca’s sleeve. “Ms. Vale, don’t blame Isaac. Is his depression acting up again?” “I saw online that depression can spread negative energy. It’s kind of scary to watch.” Bianca sneered and didn’t even look at me. “He’s just idle and spoiled. No job, sitting at home pretending to be sick for sympathy.” “Noah, let’s go. Ignore him. I’ll take you back to your apartment.” The front door slammed shut, shaking the chandelier in the living room. I looked down at the date on my phone. September fifteenth. Our fifth wedding anniversary. On the dining table was a full meal I had forced myself to make that afternoon despite the pain in my body. By now, it was completely cold. I walked into the bedroom, opened the hidden compartment behind the mirror, and poured out a few white pills. I didn’t even use warm water. I swallowed them dry, letting the bitterness spread through my throat. Then I took out my phone and booked a same-city courier pickup. I handed three large packed boxes to the courier and wrote the delivery address as a pickup point in a small border town in Yunnan. After that, I lay on the sofa and waited quietly for dawn. At two in the morning, thunder suddenly cracked outside, followed by a downpour. My phone lit up in the dark. It was a screenshot Noah had posted to his private feed, visible only to me. In the picture, a hand wearing a women’s Patek Philippe watch rested gently on Noah’s forehead. Caption: Luckily, at my hardest moment, Ms. Vale stayed with me all night. I’m so content. I looked at the photo and screenshotted it without any emotional fluctuation. Then I packaged the screenshot and emailed it to Mr. Wright. Evidence of infidelity sent. Please hurry the divorce agreement. A few minutes later, Mr. Wright replied. Received. Tomorrow morning at nine, Maan Coffee beside the civil registry. Sign in person. Cold morning wind slipped through the gap in the window. I opened my eyes, pulled my small suitcase, and left the villa. That golden cage that had trapped me for five years looked gloomy and old in the morning fog. I didn’t call a car. I took the earliest bus to the civil registry. Inside the café, Mr. Wright was already waiting with the printed divorce agreement. “Mr. Shaw, have you really thought this through?” “If you wait until we perfect the infidelity evidence, you can at least receive half the assets.” “Leaving with nothing means you won’t receive a cent for your five years in the Vale family.” I took the pen and signed Isaac Shaw neatly on the signature line. “No need.” “Mr. Wright, dirty money can’t cure my illness.” There were still five hours before my afternoon green train to Yunnan departed. I wanted to go to the city botanical garden to say goodbye to my youth. The greenhouse was full of rare flowers and plants. The air smelled of soil and green leaves. I sat on a wooden bench, closed my eyes, and breathed in the long-lost scent of nature. Suddenly, a tremendous force grabbed my wrist. I opened my eyes and met Bianca’s irritated gaze. Noah stood beside her, dressed neatly and holding a box of freshly made plant specimens. “Isaac! You’re following people all the way here now?” “Do you have to use such disgusting methods to check up on me?” Bianca’s accusation attracted the attention of nearby visitors. I lowered my eyes to my wrist in her grip. Because of long-term severe depression, there were many pale pink scars from self-harm on my wrist. Now, with her gripping it so roughly, dull pain rose from the old wounds. Without a change in expression, I slowly pried her hand away inch by inch. “Ms. Vale, I’m just passing by.” “If you don’t believe me, I can’t explain.” Noah immediately stepped forward and took Bianca’s hand, deliberately making them look intimate. “Isaac, don’t misunderstand. Ms. Vale just accompanied me to buy raw materials for specimens today.” “If you’re jealous, we can give this specimen to you.” Bianca sneered, her eyes full of contempt as she looked at me. “Give it to him for what? He’ll just leave it at home to mold.” “Isaac, look at yourself now. Dry, withered, lifeless, like a rotten piece of wood.” “Besides me, who in this world would want a lunatic like you?” Her words were poisoned steel needles, every sentence stabbing into my deepest pain. If this had been half a year earlier, hearing that would have made me dry heave on the spot, perhaps even flood me with violent thoughts of ending my life. But now, I found my heart rate unusually steady. There wasn’t even a trace of anger. I looked at the woman who had once promised to protect my dreams. “You’re right,” I said softly. Bianca’s words died in her throat. The smugness on her face turned to shock. She clearly hadn’t expected that response. I smoothed my clothes, pulled my little suitcase, walked around them, and headed straight for the garden entrance. Afternoon sunlight fell warmly over my shoulders. I took a deep breath and felt the chains that had burdened me for five years finally dissolve into nothing. Bianca stood where she was, watching my back disappear without a single glance back. For some reason, a panic she had never felt before rose in her chest. “Bianca, Isaac seems really angry…” Noah muttered beside her. Bianca stared at my back and snorted through clenched teeth. “Ignore him. He’s just throwing a tantrum. In less than three days, he’ll kneel and beg me to let him come home.” Three days passed in a flash. When Bianca returned home, the villa was empty. Unease rose in her heart. She took out her phone and called me. But only a cold automated voice came through the receiver. “Sorry, the number you dialed does not exist. Please check and try again.” Half of Bianca’s face turned pale instantly.

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1 On the anniversary of my grandmother’s death, I went home to sort through the things she had left behind. I also dragged out a few old cardboard boxes to sell for scrap. That was when I ran into my ex-boyfriend and my ex-best friend, whom I had not seen in years. Three years ago, on the eve of my wedding, I caught them in bed together. Marcus Hale had stepped in front of Selena Brooks without hesitation. “If you want to blame someone, blame me, Natalie. I’m the one at fault. I fell in love with Selena. I dragged her into this. Don’t blame her.” Selena had cried so prettily, all trembling shoulders and tear-bright eyes. “Natalie, I’m sorry. Marcus and I truly love each other. Please just let us be together.” I had been so furious I slapped them both on the spot. I called Selena shameless. Called her out for seducing someone else’s fiancé. The next day, Marcus took his revenge. He got ahead of the story and spread rumors everywhere that I had cheated first. He used AI to generate explicit videos of me and circulated them. Then he brought people to my home and trashed the place. My grandmother, who had a heart condition, was so frightened and enraged that she suffered an attack and died on the spot. After that, I cut Marcus out of my life completely and left the city. Now, three years later, the two of them stood in front of me dressed head to toe in designer labels. Marcus frowned. “Natalie King. Have these three years been that hard on you? You’re collecting trash now?” Selena was all warm concern. “Exactly, Nat. Where have you been all these years? If you’re struggling, you can tell us. Marcus’s business has grown so much now. Our company is about to go public. We’re not short on money.” “There’s no need to pick through trash. And look at you. You don’t even dress yourself up anymore.” What they did not know was that any random bracelet in my jewelry cabinet was worth more than their company’s market value. “Nat, if you’re having trouble, you really have to tell us. Don’t keep everything bottled up.” Selena smiled at me with false warmth. I felt sick. I pulled my hand free. “No need. I was just clearing out garbage.” Clearly, Selena did not believe me. She grabbed my hand again. “Why are you being so polite with us? Have you forgotten? We used to be best friends. If life is really hard, I have some spare cash. I can lend it to you. Don’t worry about losing face.” “And…” She glanced at the old neighborhood behind me. “You’re living here now?” “This place isn’t safe. You should move somewhere else.” “How about this? I have an apartment downtown sitting empty. Why don’t you stay there for now?” “No.” I refused again and turned to leave. But she held me back. “Are you still holding a grudge over what happened back then? But it’s been so long. No matter how angry you are with us, you can’t risk your health like this.” “Selena’s right.” Marcus shoved a bank card into my hand. “There’s fifty thousand in here. Take it for now.” “Oh, right. Lila’s getting married today. We were just heading over to her wedding. We’re all friends, so you should come too.” Selena latched onto my arm and forced me into the car. On the way, the two of them performed the role of loving husband and wife in front of me, sweet and inseparable. I had no interest in watching. I took out my phone and sent a message to the person waiting for me, telling him I would be late. Then I looked out the window. Selena’s words had dragged up memories I had buried. Lila Grant had been my college classmate. Theirs too. Three years ago, I cut ties with everyone from my past, so of course I had no idea today was her wedding day. Selena chatted eagerly, then suddenly asked, “By the way, Nat, it’s been so long. You must have a boyfriend by now, right? Don’t tell me you’re still single.” “I’m married,” I said flatly. The car went silent for a beat. Selena covered her mouth in shock. “Really? Something that big happened and you didn’t tell us? When did it happen? Who is he? Bring him out for us to meet someday. We were so close before.” The excitement in her eyes was almost impossible to hide. She looked me up and down. “Two years ago. He’s busy. No need.” “Two years ago?” Marcus slammed the brakes. “Natalie, I know you still resent me for what happened, but you don’t need to invent some man just to make me angry. Two years ago, we had barely been apart. You’re telling me you married someone else?” “You’re overthinking it. I have no obligation to lie to you.” “Marcus,” Selena said quickly, “maybe Natalie really did find someone she can spend her life with.” “What kind of man lets her live like this?” “Oh, what do you mean, like this? Who says marriage has to be about money? Maybe he treats Nat very well. Maybe he’s responsible.” The two of them went back and forth. I turned my head toward the window. Soon, we arrived. Selena warmly pulled me out of the car. “You haven’t contacted us for three years. I missed you so much. Thank goodness you’re back. We can be together again.” I frowned and pushed her away. “Stay away from me.” She looked helpless. “Nat, did I do something wrong? Do you hate me?” I stared at her and suddenly found it absurd. Was she asking on purpose? Or had her memory rewritten itself? She stole my fiancé. She caused the death of the grandmother who had raised me. And she still had the nerve to say these things. If this had been a few years ago, I might have gone mad with rage and grabbed her by the hair. But now, all I felt was calm. “You’re overthinking it.” “Selena!” A surprised voice rang out. Lila, dressed in her wedding gown, ran over. The two women hugged. Then Lila noticed me standing off to the side. “This is… Natalie?” “Natalie, my God. It’s been years. How did you end up looking so… worn down?” At once, everyone else turned to look. They were old classmates. Naturally, they knew some of what had happened between us. And naturally, none of them hesitated to side with Selena. They made jokes at my expense without the slightest restraint. “Yeah, Natalie, I heard you left Harbor City after breaking up with Marcus. You must have had a tough time all these years.” “Look at her. What is she even wearing? It looks like something from a street stall.” “If I looked like that, I wouldn’t have the nerve to come. Standing next to Selena, she looks like a clown.” Because it was my grandmother’s death anniversary, I had worn simple, muted clothes. But the fabric, the cut, the design, all of it had been custom-made by a private designer. Money could not buy it. Lila took my hand. “Natalie, you must really have struggled all these years. You can’t even bear to buy yourself decent clothes. Oh, right, Selena said you got married. Who is your other half? Why didn’t you bring him for us to see?” “Yes, yes, we’re all curious what Natalie’s husband looks like.” “Natalie used to be the beauty of our class. Her husband must be amazing, right?” Selena had been with me the whole time. She had no chance to tell them in person. Which meant she had told them in a group chat. So they still had a group. Of course they did. I had cut them off for years. It was normal that I did not know. Someone snickered. “Look at the state she’s in. What kind of good husband could she have found? If he were any good, would he let her wear cheap clothes? Class beauty? Please. If Marcus hadn’t liked her back then, would she ever have been put on that pedestal?” “Exactly. She probably married some poor, honest guy.” “Nothing like our Selena. Marcus is a CEO now, and their company is about to go public.” “Natalie, why aren’t you saying anything? Is he too embarrassing to talk about?” Lila added another jab. Then someone said jokingly, “Don’t tell me her husband is too shameful to show.” The room burst into laughter. No matter what they said, I had no desire to respond. All I could think about was how to find an excuse to leave. My husband and my little one were still waiting for me. Thinking of them warmed my heart. The corners of my mouth lifted before I even realized it. When I looked up, I met Marcus’s complicated gaze. “Natalie. Does he treat you badly?” “Huh?” “If you’re in trouble, you can tell me anytime.” So my silence had become, in his mind, a painful inability to speak. Suddenly, he stepped forward. “If things are really hard, you can come to me directly. After all, we used to…” “You’re overthinking it. I have something to do. I’m leaving.” I cut him off. I made up a random excuse and stood. He looked at me with pained eyes. Great. What tragic fantasy had he invented now? “Natalie,” Selena called after me, “our company’s IPO celebration is in two days. Come if you’re free.” “Oh, right. Your grandmother’s blessing charm is still with me. You left it behind back then. I haven’t been able to contact you all these years, so I never had a chance to return it.” I had been about to refuse. But when I heard the second half, I hesitated. She said it on purpose. She knew I would refuse otherwise. In the end, I agreed. I wanted to see what she was trying to do. “I’ll drive you.” At the intersection, Marcus pulled up beside me. I hesitated for one second, then got in. “Where do you live now?” “South End Old Lane, number seventy-eight. Just drop me there.” Marcus frowned. “You still live there? That area’s about to be demolished. He lets you live in a place like that?” South End Old Lane, number seventy-eight, was where my grandmother had lived. It was also where I had lived for more than twenty years. There had indeed been rumors of demolition recently. But Sebastian Ford had bought the entire area. Because I had once said I could not bear to lose it. I was too lazy to explain, so I gave a faint hum. Marcus got angry instead. “Natalie King! What kind of attitude is that? After leaving me, you just gave up on yourself? You don’t even take your own marriage seriously?” “If it’s really not working, divorce him.” If Sebastian heard that, he would probably sulk for half a month. Thankfully, we had arrived. I opened the door and got out. “No need. Goodbye.” Then I left without looking back. Most people had moved out of the old neighborhood. Only a few elderly residents remained. The stairwell was dim, and I felt my way up to the seventh floor. When I opened the door, my grandmother’s portrait sat in the center of the room. I walked forward and lit three sticks of incense. Then I sat down and talked to her. As I spoke, I nearly fell asleep. My phone rang. It was a video call from Sebastian. “Mommy!” As soon as I answered, a milky little voice popped out. My son’s face filled most of the screen. “Mommy, Daddy said after he finishes work in two days, he’ll bring Ollie to see you. Mommy, Ollie misses you so much.” His voice was soft and sweet. He clung to the call for a long time before finally handing the phone to Sebastian. The man’s deep-set eyes looked tired. “How have the past two days been?” “Fine.” Sebastian and I met a little over two years ago. At that time, I had just crawled out of the relationship that Marcus had left in ruins. To heal myself, I carried a sketchboard and traveled all over the world. Mountains, rivers, cities, oceans. Sebastian was the model I happened to meet one day. I saw him as my muse. The source of my inspiration. I created painting after painting because of him. And he told me he had never met a woman as unusual as I was. Somewhere along the way, we fell in love. Later, I asked him what made me so unusual. He said, “Other women who see me want to attach themselves to me. They want some benefit from me. But you only wanted me to model for you. That was strange.” I said, “Doesn’t making you model count as a benefit?” He laughed. “Natalie, you’re adorably foolish.” I was foolish. Otherwise, how could I have failed to realize for so long that my so-called best friend had been stealing my fiancé? Only later did I learn that Sebastian had been born into a powerful, rigid family. The schemes, the hierarchy, the endless fight for profit had kept him on guard his whole life. He said that being with me gave him a kind of peace he had never known. We were two wounded people warming each other. Then Ollie came along. And our little family became even more beautiful. Two days passed quickly. Soon, it was the day of Marcus’s company celebration. Selena sent me a message reminding me to come. I replied: Okay. That afternoon, I took a cab to the venue. But I was stopped at the entrance. “Sorry, no invitation, no entry. Do you have an invitation?” The security guard looked me up and down. “No.” His attitude immediately turned sharp. “Then what are you doing here? Do you know what kind of place this is? Today is the day Hale Group celebrates its listing. Random people can’t just wander in.” I was shoved back. Suddenly, someone gasped. “Isn’t that Natalie King? Marcus Hale’s ex-girlfriend.” “It really is. Mrs. Hale, isn’t that your son’s ex?” It was Marcus’s mother, surrounded by a group of wealthy ladies. At that, Mrs. Hale’s smile froze. She rushed over at once. “Natalie King. It really is you. After betraying my son and running off with some man, you still have the nerve to come back?” “Don’t tell me you saw my son succeeding now, saw his company going public, and came back to get a piece of the pie.” “Let me warn you. If you dare cause trouble, I’ll expose everything you did back then.” The others looked at me with disgust. “I heard she cheated before the wedding and broke Marcus’s heart. Thank goodness Selena was there for him later.” “Exactly. Some people really have no shame.” Mrs. Hale squared her shoulders. “Did you hear me? Get out!” “Selena invited me.” “Selena invited you? Do you think I’ll believe that?” Only then did I realize that after I left, Marcus had not only painted himself as the perfect victim. He had also made Selena his savior. In the end, I, the actual victim, had become the only villain. How ironic. I took out my phone to message Selena. But someone slapped it out of my hand. “What? Planning to call my son? You think he’ll soften up and take you back?” “Dream on. Get out right now!” I picked up my phone and tried again. But the screen had gone black. I could not send a message. I could not even make a call. “Mom, what are you doing?” Marcus and Selena walked over. Mrs. Hale rushed to complain. “Son, look at this woman. She must have seen you’ve made something of yourself and come back for benefits. I was helping you chase her away.” “Mom, Natalie hasn’t had it easy these years. Let it go. It’s all in the past.” Marcus spoke. Selena echoed him, stepping forward to take my hand. “Nat, you finally came. I was going to have someone pick you up, but today was so busy I forgot. Oh, right, where’s your husband? Didn’t he come with you?” “No.” “What a shame. I was hoping there would be a few industry leaders here today. I could introduce you and your husband to some job opportunities.” She looked like a generous rich wife offering charity to a beggar. I frowned and pulled my hand away. “The blessing charm.” She froze. “Oh, look at me. I was in such a rush that I left it upstairs. Come in with me first. I’ll go get it for you later.” I had planned to take it and leave. Now I had no choice but to go inside. All along the way, people whispered behind me. “Selena really is generous.” “Exactly. Anyone else would’ve kicked her out long ago.” “I still have that video from back then saved.” Inside the hall, a small figure suddenly darted out and shoved me hard. I fell to the floor. “Bad woman! Don’t get close to my daddy!” “Hugo, don’t act up!” Marcus hurried forward and picked up the boy. Selena smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, Natalie. He’s still young. He doesn’t know better.” I held out my hand again. “The charm. Give it to me. I’m leaving.” “You vixen! You’re the one seducing my husband, aren’t you?” Suddenly, a force grabbed my shoulder. A slap landed hard across my face. A woman rushed at me like a madwoman, grabbing my hair and tearing at it. “No wonder my husband keeps coming home in the middle of the night lately. If I hadn’t seen the photos, I really would’ve thought he was working late.” “You shameless vixen! How dare you seduce my man!” She shoved me to the ground. Just then, the main doors opened. Someone shouted, “It looks like Mr. Ford. Mr. Ford is here!” All sound vanished. Everyone turned toward the entrance.

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1 The ninety-ninth time I fished my cat out of the dumpster, I sat on the curb downstairs and stared into space for half an hour. It was only when the streetlights flickered on, casting long, hollow shadows across the pavement, that I finally dragged my feet back up to the apartment. The door was deadbolted from the inside. Mochi was shivering violently in my arms, his white fur soaked and smelling of rotten garbage. Numbly, I knocked on the heavy wooden door. Through the gap, my wife’s cold, detached voice drifted out. “His fur got into Dustin’s bowl today. As punishment, he’s locked out for the week.” Dustin was a college student we used to sponsor together. Now, he was her live-in boy toy. He claimed to have severe germophobia and hated cats, which was all Valerie needed to throw Mochi out ninety-eight times before this. I squeezed the shivering cat closer to my chest. Staring at the blank face of the locked door, a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over me. I didn’t want to go in anymore. Mochi trembled against me. I stood on the rainy street for what felt like an eternity before an Uber driver finally agreed to take a guy with a soaking, smelly cat. The vet was just about to lock up when I pushed the door open. He paused, looking at me with a mixture of pity and frustration. “How many times has it been this month, Gavin?” I kept my head down, gently running my thumb over Mochi’s ears. “Sixteen.” Mochi nudged my palm with his wet pink nose. He was always so sweet. Meeting his trusting eyes, I pictured him trapped inside that foul, suffocating dumpster, and a lump formed in my throat. Sixteen times in thirty days. For more than half of the month, my wife had treated my cat like actual trash. Last time, she said Dustin was studying for finals, and Mochi’s quiet meowing disrupted his focus. The time before that, she claimed Mochi shed a single hair on Dustin’s sweater, which warranted immediate banishment. She had a million excuses. But looking back, they all boiled down to one simple truth: Dustin didn’t like him. And if Dustin didn’t like something, it had no right to exist in our home. It wasn’t just the cat. It was our wedding photos, our shared keepsakes, our matching coffee mugs. All Dustin had to do was wrinkle his nose, and Valerie would throw them into the trash the very next morning. Three months ago, every physical trace of our ten-year relationship was wiped clean from the apartment. Yet, Dustin wasn’t satisfied. He targeted Mochi next. The first time she threw Mochi out, I lost my mind. I screamed at her until my throat bled, while she just watched me with flat, uncaring eyes. When I finally ran out of breath, she spoke in a maddeningly calm voice. “Dustin is young, and his family is states away. Since he’s staying with us, I’m responsible for him. I won’t let him feel uncomfortable in his own space.” “It’s just a cat, Gavin. If Dustin doesn’t like it, it goes.” We had rescued Mochi together from a rainy alleyway years ago. Valerie used to cuddle him, laughing as she called herself his mommy and me his daddy. Now, she was throwing him away for some boy. Rage blinded me, and the words tumbled out before I could stop them. “What does taking care of him even mean to you? Do you have to take care of him in our bed for it to count?” She scoffed, her eyes hardening into ice. “Can you stop being hysterical? You look pathetic acting like this.” The raw disgust in her gaze had frozen me in place, burning me with a deep, humiliating shame. Looking back at how I pleaded and screamed, she was right. I did look pathetic. I decided right then that I was done being hysterical. The vet took Mochi back for an exam and returned half an hour later. “No serious physical injuries this time,” he said, though his expression remained heavy. He sighed softly. “Look, Gavin… if your wife hates him this much, you need to find him a new home. A cat can’t take this kind of constant stress.” I stared at the floor for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “Thank you, Doc. But don’t worry. It won’t happen again. Ever.” I wasn’t going back to that house. Neither was Mochi. I walked to a nearby budget hotel and booked a room. Just as the transaction cleared, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Valerie. Make sure you come back early tomorrow morning. Dustin wants those artisan bagels from Sullivan’s for breakfast. And don’t bring that cat back. It ruins Dustin’s mood. She didn’t ask where I was, or if I was okay walking alone in the dark. She only cared about her darling boy’s breakfast. I stared at the screen until my fingers grew stiff, then slowly hit delete. Valerie showed up at my office a week later. As I walked out at five, she was waiting by the entrance, holding a bouquet of white lilies. “Come home,” she said, giving me a soft, practiced smile. “I miss your honey-glazed ribs.” I looked at her, my heart entirely flat. It wasn’t her who loved those ribs. It was Dustin. She had come up with the most pathetic excuse just to recruit me back as their unpaid housekeeper. She shoved the flowers into my arms as if nothing had happened, then reached for my hand. “Let’s go. Dustin has a sensitive stomach, and eating late messes up his digestion.” I hadn’t agreed to go, but she didn’t care. She assumed that by throwing me a bone, I would eagerly jump at the chance to make up. I looked down at the lilies. The petals were already brown and withered at the edges. I tossed the bouquet into the trash can next to us. “That apartment isn’t my home anymore, Valerie. I’m not going back.” I pointed to the bin. “And by the way, I hate lilies. Dustin is the one who likes them.” Valerie’s hand froze in midair. The warm, accommodating facade vanished instantly. “You used to beg me to pick you up from work,” she said, her voice dropping into a sharp, defensive register. “Now I’m here, and I even bought you flowers. What more do you want from me, Gavin?” I had asked her to pick me up once, years ago. Back then, some nasty rumors were going around my office about me and my boss, and I wanted her to show up just to put them to rest. But when I begged her, she had dismissed me without a second thought. “Maybe next time. I’m too busy right now.” It was only later that I found out what she was so busy with. While I was struggling with anxiety and panic attacks, Valerie was busy spending her evenings building a massive custom Lego portrait with Dustin. They spent a whole week assembling a picture of the two of them leaning against each other, framed it, and hung it in our living room. Dustin had smirked at me when it was finished. “Gavin, look what Valerie and I made. Isn’t it cute? Your old wedding photo was so outdated anyway. This actually makes the living room feel alive.” Whether he was deliberately mocking me didn’t matter. I didn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer. The room had gone dead silent. Valerie had shot me an annoyed look before turning to smile at Dustin. “Exactly. Your taste is so much better than Gavin’s. From now on, you get to decorate our home.” Our home. Who did she mean by “our”? Her and me, or her and Dustin? I couldn’t hold it in anymore. My voice shook as I confronted her. “I was drowning in rumors at work, begging you to help me clear my name, and you said you were too busy. Did you think about me once while you were playing with legos with him?” Valerie blinked, then scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. “But you’re fine now, aren’t you? Stop being so dramatic.” In that exact second, something vital inside me shattered. That was the day the silence began. Now, weeks later, here she was, treating this pick-up like a grand act of charity. The gesture I had once craved had finally arrived, but I had already survived the worst of the storm on my own. I didn’t need her anymore. I stepped around her, but she blocked my path. “Are you still throwing a tantrum over that cat?” she snapped. “Look, Dustin is being the bigger person here. He’s already forgiven you and that stupid cat.” “I promise, as long as the cat doesn’t annoy him, I won’t throw it out again.” She stared at me, waiting for me to cave, apologize, and follow her home like a good little dog. I looked at her, completely detached. “Valerie, Mochi and I are never coming back. I want a divorce.” She stared at me in disbelief. “Are you insane? You’re ruining our marriage over a worthless cat?” She blamed the divorce on the cat. I didn’t bother correcting her; arguing was pointless. The real cancer in our marriage was Dustin, but she would always find a way to justify his behavior and deny her own betrayal. “I’ll have my lawyer send over the paperwork,” I said, my voice flat. “Just sign it.” I didn’t yell. I was entirely calm. Valerie used to complain that I was too loud, too emotional, too crazy. But now that I was standing before her in absolute silence, her face paled. “You’re getting more delusional by the day,” she sneered, resorting to her usual defense mechanism. “Honestly, if Dustin didn’t miss your cooking, do you think I’d waste my time coming here?” It was always the same. Every disagreement ended with her comparing me to Dustin. I wasn’t as smart as him, wasn’t as handsome, wasn’t as understanding. In the past, those insults cut deep. I would scream and beg for her to respect me. Now, I simply nodded. “Then hire him a private chef.” I knew she wasn’t lying about Dustin missing my cooking. My entire culinary repertoire had been carefully curated to suit his delicate palate. Back then, I foolishly thought I was just helping Valerie care for a student we sponsored. What an idiot I had been. They had spent an entire year laughing at my expense while I served them. During the week I stayed at the hotel, Dustin had been posting constantly on Instagram. I watched their daily life through his stories; they looked like a blissful, cozy young couple. If Dustin hadn’t complained about wanting my ribs, Valerie probably wouldn’t have remembered my existence for months. “Let’s see how long you can keep up this little act,” Valerie sneered before walking away. That night, I had my lawyer draft the divorce agreement and sent a copy to her phone. A red exclamation mark popped up immediately. She had blocked me. I didn’t even flinch. I deleted her contact, opened Instagram, and sent the document to Dustin instead. Here’s the divorce agreement. Tell her to sign it. And congratulations. You finally got what you wanted. A minute later, a voice message came back from Dustin, dripping with malice. “Divorce? Oh, Gavin, don’t make me laugh. How can you divorce her when your marriage license is fake?” My heart seized. I stared at the message, unable to comprehend the words. Then, he sent a photo. It was a picture of Valerie, Dustin, and a little girl. The girl had Valerie’s exact eyes and nose. Dustin’s next text was smug. Valerie and I were promised to each other since we were kids. We’ve been together since I was nineteen. If your family wasn’t wealthy, and if Valerie didn’t need your mother’s connections in the industry, she wouldn’t have spared you a single glance. Technically, Gavin, you’re the side piece. My vision blurred, and the world seemed to spin on its axis. The marriage license was fake. Her falling in love with me at first sight was a lie. Everything was a lie. Suddenly, so many things made sense. I had wanted kids, but Valerie always made excuses, saying she wanted to enjoy our time as a couple first. She didn’t want to wait; she just didn’t want my child. Dustin’s messages kept rolling in. Why do you think Valerie lets me do whatever I want? She feels guilty about what we had to do, so she lets me use you as my personal punching bag to make up for it. The words swam before my eyes. Mochi nestled against my arm, watching me with big, silent eyes. Clutching his warm little body, I forced myself to breathe. I pulled up my contacts and sent a message to a friend who worked at the county clerk’s office. The reply came early the next morning. Hey Gavin… I checked the database. There’s no record of a marriage license for you and Valerie. Legally speaking, you’re single… I closed my eyes. A dark, bitter laugh escaped my lips. It was actually easier this way. Leaving her would require no paperwork at all. I went to the office, handed in my resignation, and packed my bags. I planned to take Mochi and clear my head at my parents’ house out of state. I had only stayed in this city because Valerie’s career was rooted here. Now that she was gone, there was nothing keeping me. The day before my departure, I took Mochi to the pet groomer for a bath. As I was walking out of the clinic, carrying his carrier, I ran straight into them. Valerie, Dustin, and the little girl. They were walking hand-in-hand. Valerie was looking down at the child, a tender smile on her face that I had never seen before. As they laughed, Valerie looked up and spotted me. She instantly dropped the child’s hand. Stepping forward, she instinctively shielded Dustin and the girl behind her. “This is… Dustin’s niece,” she said, her voice tight with panic. “Don’t you dare start spinning some sick story in your head.” She didn’t realize Dustin had already spilled everything. Her eyes darted around nervously, though she tried to maintain her composure. I used to think I would love this woman until my dying day. Now, looking at her made my stomach turn. “Whatever you do is none of my business,” I said coldly. Valerie wasn’t used to this level of indifference from me. She marched over and grabbed my wrist tightly. “What is wrong with you? Why are you acting like this?” “Let go of me,” I said, twisting my arm to break her grip. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dustin holding the little girl, glaring at me with raw hatred. He whispered something into her ear, and the girl suddenly ran forward, grabbing the handle of my cat carrier. “I want the kitty! Let me play with the kitty!” Before I could pull it away, Valerie snatched the carrier right out of my hand. “Rosie likes him. Let her play with him for a second.” Rosie unzipped the top and dragged Mochi out by his tail. Mochi let out a sharp, agonized screech, but the child wouldn’t let go. “Let him go!” I yelled, lunging forward. Valerie blocked me, her face darkening. “Don’t be so petty. He’s just a stray. I’ve thrown him in the dumpster a hundred times and he’s still fine. Stop making a scene over nothing.” She talked about abusing my pet as if it were a joke. Rage boiled in my veins. Before I could push past her, Rosie suddenly burst into tears. “Ow! The mean kitty bit me!” Valerie panicked. She shoved me back and kicked Mochi with terrifying force. The small white cat flew through the air, crashing hard against the brick wall. He hit the brick and fell, instantly still. Blood began to seep from his nose and mouth, staining the pavement red. I fell to my knees, scooping his limp, fragile body into my arms. My hands were immediately covered in warm, sticky blood. Valerie froze, staring at the bloody heap. “I… I didn’t mean to do that,” she stammered, stepping back. “But he… he bit Rosie.” Dustin cradled the crying girl, but a smug, cruel smile played on his lips. “Gavin, I know you hate me,” Dustin said, raising his voice so the bystanders could hear. “But there’s no need to take it out on a child. A feral cat like that deserves to be put down anyway.” My vision went red. Clutching Mochi to my chest with one arm, I stepped forward and slammed my fist directly into Dustin’s face. Mochi had been my companion for five years. He was family. And they had just killed him. I raised my fist to strike him again. Valerie shoved me back with all her strength. “Have you lost your mind? If your stupid cat hadn’t bitten a child, I wouldn’t have had to kick it! This is your fault for not training it!” They were the ones who stole him, hurt him, and killed him, yet they turned it around on me. I stared at Valerie, my gaze cold enough to kill. “You killed him. I’m going to make you regret this for the rest of your life.” Valerie let out a mocking laugh. “And what are you going to do about it?” she sneered. “It’s a cat. I’ll buy you a better one. Stop crying about it.” Dustin wiped the blood from his lip, glaring. “You’re not leaving until you apologize to my daughter.” They stood side-by-side, blocking my path. I looked at them one last time, pulled out my phone, and texted my lawyer: Go ahead with the plan. I refused to apologize, and the standoff dragged on. Valerie checked her watch, growing increasingly impatient. “Hurry up and apologize. Dustin and I have dinner reservations, and we don’t have all day to waste on you.” I didn’t say a word. I just turned my head toward the street. Valerie shoved my shoulder. “I said, apologize!” Before she could finish her threat, a police cruiser pulled up to the curb. Two officers stepped out and walked straight toward her.

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1 It was my seventh year sick and I was flat broke, unable to afford tomorrow’s painkillers. My best friend, Poppy, returned to VIP clubs, auctioning herself to the highest bidder. When I arrived, muffled sounds leaked from the lounge. “Wilson, we can’t. If Five finds out—” Then his low breathing. “Something was slipped into your drink. How else do you purge it?” My nails bit into my palms until my vision blacked. Poppy later shoved crumpled bills at my bedside. “Enough for your meds.” Wilson stared at her scraped knees and bruised wrists, his eyes reddening. He turned to me, his gaze no longer loving but exhausted, resentful. “Haze, why won’t you just die? How much longer will you drag us down?” Yet after screaming, he used his blood plasma donation money to buy me soup and pills, sat gnawing a stale bagel, and draped a blanket over Poppy like she was fragile treasure. A sharp pain spread through my chest, like blades scraping bone. Tears soaked my pillow. It was okay. I was dying soon. Very soon, I’d stop being their burden. … After Wilson shouted those words, the apartment stayed quiet for a long, long time. Quiet enough for Wilson to finish choking down that stale half-bagel. He brought the hot soup over to my bed, his voice choking up as he apologized. “I am so sorry, Five. I am just… so tired.” I did not have the courage to look at him. I just kept my eyes squeezed shut, pretending to be asleep. Right before dawn, Poppy sat up on the worn-out sofa. She poked a straw into a carton of sweetened almond milk and pressed it into my hand. “Here, Five. Less sugar.” “You can’t have things too sweet right now.” Her routine was as natural and practiced as always. But when I glanced down and saw the dark purple bruises circling her wrists, my fingertips could not help but tremble. The almond milk was sweet enough. Yet it burned going down, leaving a bitter, agonizing taste in my throat. Wilson was prying the lid off the takeout soup. His hands used to be breathtaking, like they belonged to a sculptor. They were hands made for playing the piano. He used to promise me that when I finally got better, he would play a song for me with his own two hands at our wedding. But now, those hands were clumsy even just opening a plastic lid. His palms were covered in thick, yellowish calluses from blisters that had burst and healed a dozen times over at the construction site. When Wilson handed the soup to me, he blew on it out of pure habit. But a second later, as if in a complete daze, he shifted his hand and brought the plastic spoon right to Poppy’s lips. The air in the room went so still it was suffocating. All the color drained from Poppy’s face. Wilson snapped out of it. His wrist jerked, nearly spilling the broth everywhere. He awkwardly redirected the spoon back to me. I took it from him and lowered my head to take a sip. The soup was scalding. It burned the tip of my tongue. But I did not flinch. Because compared to the words Wilson had thrown at me last night. This little bit of physical pain was absolutely nothing. The three of us huddled around the tiny folding table for breakfast. Just like we had done a thousand times before. Except our breakfasts used to be loud and full of life. Poppy would try to steal the bacon off Wilson’s plate. Wilson would put on a cold face and swat her fork away. I would sit right between them, laughing so hard it triggered a coughing fit. And then Poppy would instantly snap at Wilson. “Stop making her laugh! You know her lungs can’t take it.” Back then, I always thought I was the luckiest girl in the entire world. My absolute best friend sat across from me. The love of my life sat right beside me. One on the left, one on the right. They shielded me from everything dark in the world. But now, it was the exact same table. The exact same three people. Poppy refused to look at Wilson. Wilson refused to look at her. Yet their eyes would inevitably collide in the spaces between seconds. And then they would instantly, guiltily tear their gazes apart. My throat suddenly felt tight and dry. Not because of my failing lungs. But because the fog had finally cleared, and I could see the truth. It wasn’t that they didn’t love me anymore. It was that they had fallen in love with each other. And this love had taken root and blossomed in the absolute filth of trying to buy my medicine, trying to raise my money, trying to keep me breathing. I did not even feel like I had the right to blame them. A sudden, sharp metallic taste surged up the back of my throat. I bit down on the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted copper, forcing myself not to cough up blood right in front of them. After we finished eating, Poppy stood up to clear the empty containers. As she leaned over, her collar shifted, revealing a fresh, dark hickey right beneath her collarbone. Wilson saw it. His expression shifted instantly. He took a subconscious step toward her. But he forcefully rooted himself to the spot. I pretended to be deeply engrossed in my phone, staring blankly at the screen. On the display was the hospice care DNR agreement I had signed digitally last night. Once I stopped taking the medication. My body would not last more than three days. It felt like thousands of fire ants were chewing on my bones. I was constantly in so much pain that I had to curl myself into a tight, trembling ball. When she finished cleaning, Poppy came over and sat beside me. “Five.” “When you are feeling a little better, the three of us should go get a real portrait taken.” My mind drifted back to a memory from many years ago. We had taken a picture together once. Poppy insisted on standing dead center, declaring she was the older sister and needed to protect me and Wilson. Wilson refused to accept it. He shamelessly squeezed himself right next to me. Just before the shutter clicked, he secretly laced his fingers through mine behind my back. When the photo was printed, I stared at it and smiled for days. I thought I held the whole world in my hands. Now, I looked at the two exhausted, hollowed-out faces in front of me and managed a weak smile. “When I feel better, we will go.” Tears instantly spilled from Poppy’s eyes. She quickly ducked her head to wipe them away. “It is a promise then.” I lowered my head and swallowed the last spoonful of cold soup. Inside, my heart was completely quiet. I am not going to get better. And we are not going to take that photo. Because very soon, I am going to disappear from their world entirely. When that happens. I will give them their freedom back. And I will finally release myself from this humiliating, suffocating love. That night, I woke up to the sound of fighting in the living room. Poppy sounded like she was crying. “Years ago, Five went to work at that chemical processing plant just to pay for our tuition!” “She got pulmonary fibrosis because of us! We cannot betray her like this!” A second later, I heard the rustling of clothes being roughly pulled. Wilson’s breathing grew heavy. “I know we owe her a debt we can never repay. But can you look me in the eye and say you don’t love me?” “This has nothing to do with her. This is about us.” Poppy choked out a sob. “I don’t love you.” “Listen to me, Wilson, I don’t love you!” “I don’t feel anything for… mm!” The next second, all her desperate denials were swallowed up. I lay frozen in the dark, my eyes wide open. The ceiling blurred into a shadow above me. I listened to them kissing in the living room. I listened to Poppy crying, her hands weakly pushing against his chest. And I listened as her struggles eventually faded into nothing. In that exact moment, I finally understood. Some betrayals do not start with the body. They start with pity. With one moment of weakness, one desperate urge to protect. One uncontrollable gravitational pull toward someone who understands your pain. Until slowly, you cross a line you can never come back from. A violent wave of nausea suddenly turned my stomach inside out. My chest constricted with a crushing, suffocating agony. It felt like an invisible hand had reached inside my ribcage, twisting my lungs like a wet rag. I tried to suppress it. But this illness had ravaged my body for far too long. A split second later, hot, coppery liquid erupted into my throat. I panicked, reaching out wildly to grab the tissues on the nightstand, but my limbs went completely slack, and I crashed heavily onto the hard wooden floor. The noises in the living room stopped dead. Wilson and Poppy bolted into the bedroom at the exact same time. Poppy’s hair was a mess. Her eyes were rimmed with red, and the collar of her shirt was pulled down, hanging loosely off her shoulder. When they saw me collapsed on the floor, all the blood drained from their faces. “Five!” Poppy lunged forward to hold me up. The sweet scent of her nightclub perfume mixed with the stale, cheap tobacco clinging to Wilson’s clothes. It made the nausea violently churn in my stomach again. Wilson dropped to his knees, trying to scoop me into his arms. “Five, where does it hurt?” “I am calling an ambulance. Let’s go to the hospital.” I shook my head, using every last ounce of energy I had left to force out three words. “I’m fine. Sleep.” The next morning, Poppy’s eyes were horribly swollen. She carefully took my fragile hand into hers. “Five.” “Let’s go take that photo today.” “You promised me yesterday.” Hearing this, Wilson frowned deeply. “She coughed up blood last night. Do not drag her outside today.” Poppy’s eyes immediately filled with fresh tears. “I just want one good picture of the three of us.” “Just in case…” Her voice cracked and died in her throat. I forced a faint smile. “Let’s go then.” It would be the perfect photo to use for my funeral. They both stared at me. I pretended I could not see the crushing guilt swimming in their eyes. Poppy picked the photography studio. The photographer positioned us in front of a clean, neutral backdrop. Wilson stood on my left, Poppy on my right. But the photographer looked through the lens for a few seconds, then lowered the camera with a bright smile. “Could the couple step a bit closer to each other?” He was talking about Wilson and Poppy. The oxygen instantly vanished from the room. The fake smile on Poppy’s face shattered. Wilson instinctively denied it. “We are not together.” His denial came out fast. Too fast. And the moment the words left his mouth, his eyes did not dart to me. They darted to Poppy. As if he was terrified she would be hurt by his rejection. Standing right between them, I smiled warmly and broke the silence. “It is okay. The three of us are family.” When the word ‘family’ left my lips, Poppy’s eyes instantly flooded with red. Wilson went completely rigid. But my smile was flawless. Natural. As if I truly had not noticed the overflowing, desperate love they were trying to hide from me. In the final printed photo, I stood directly in the center. Wilson and Poppy flanked my sides. But their shoulders were subconsciously angled inward, tilting toward each other. I was the only one standing perfectly straight. Looking exactly like someone who had finally learned how to bow out with grace. I slipped the photo into my bag. Right then, my phone vibrated in my pocket. An email notification popped up from the Hospice Care Center. “Miss Hazel, your application to terminate life-sustaining treatment has been confirmed.” Wilson leaned over, trying to see what I was looking at. My thumb fumbled. I could not lock the screen fast enough. But before his eyes could focus on the words, Poppy suddenly covered her mouth and let out a violent, wretched gag. Wilson’s attention snapped away from me instantly. “Poppy?” Poppy leaned against the studio wall, dry-heaving, her face the color of chalk. I stared at her pale, sweaty forehead, and a sudden thought pierced through the fog in my brain. She had not bought tampons in a very long time. An absurd, terrifying realization began to float up from the darkest corner of my mind. But before I could even process the thought, a catastrophic, tearing pain ripped through my chest. I doubled over, vomiting a massive puddle of dark red blood onto the white studio floor. Wilson whipped his head around. For a fraction of a second, absolute panic flashed in his eyes. But Poppy let out another agonizing gag, her knees buckling as she collapsed weakly into his chest. Wilson’s hands froze in mid-air. On one side, I was choking on my own blood, seconds away from passing out. On the other side, Poppy was pale, trembling, and entirely possibly carrying his child. Poppy gripped his shirt sleeve like a lifeline, sobbing hysterically. “Wilson, take Five to the hospital right now!” “Her lungs are failing!” My consciousness was already fraying at the edges. A high-pitched ringing echoed in my ears. But I still saw Wilson squeeze his eyes shut, his face twisting in absolute mental collapse. Suddenly, he opened his red-rimmed eyes and screamed at me. “Haze, why won’t you just fucking die?” “If you were dead, we wouldn’t have to be drowning in this misery anymore!” “Poppy wouldn’t have to suffer like this! Why won’t you just die!” Those words were a rusty knife, plunging repeatedly into my bleeding heart. I opened my mouth to speak, but only more blood spilled out over my chin. So this is it. The person who loved me most in the world. Was finally begging for me to die. Poppy slapped her hand over his mouth, sobbing uncontrollably. “Wilson, are you out of your mind?!” “How could you say that to her?” Wilson looked like he had just shocked himself. He stared down at me, profound agony and terror rapidly pooling in his eyes. But a second later, Poppy went completely limp against him. Wilson finally made his choice. He bent down and scooped Poppy into his arms. His voice was terrifyingly hoarse. It sounded like he was trying to justify it to me, but mostly trying to justify it to himself. “Five. Just this once.” “I have to take care of Poppy first.” “Just this once.” I lay crumpled on the cold floor, the world around me melting into a dark blur. All I could hear was the frantic sound of Wilson’s footsteps running toward the exit. Just before the darkness took me completely, I heard his trembling voice echo down the hall. “Poppy, that night three months ago…” “I gave you the cash. Didn’t you go to the clinic for the pill?” Poppy was crying so hard she could barely breathe. “Five was so weak after her chemo that day.” “I took that clinic money… and I bought her two hot meatball subs.” The tears finally broke free and slid down my bloody cheeks. So even this child. Was my fault. The agonizing pain in my organs crashed over me like a tidal wave, drowning me from the inside out. I lay on the freezing tile, watching their blurry silhouettes disappear. Suddenly, a thought echoed in my fading mind. Haze. Look at you. You really are the root of every horrible thing that has ever happened to them. I thrashed on the floor for a long time, waves of hot blood endlessly bubbling up my throat. At first, I tried to cover my mouth. Eventually, I did not even have the strength to lift my arm. The blood ran down my chin, pooling onto the studio floor, slowly blooming into a dark, terrifying crimson stain. The freshly printed photo slipped out of my pocket. In the picture, all three of us were smiling. But looking closely through my half-closed eyes, I could see Wilson and Poppy’s hands, secretly locked together behind my back. Just like how Wilson had locked his fingers with mine, all those years ago. I coughed up another mouthful of blood. This time, my breathing became incredibly shallow. So faint, it felt like the very next breath would simply refuse to come. The most beautiful memories of my life began to flash behind my eyelids. Back when we were stuck in the foster home, the summer nights were so brutally hot we couldn’t sleep. Poppy would sit next to my bed, fanning me with a piece of stiff cardboard. She would fan me and scold me at the same time. “Five, why are you always so damn fragile?” “When your big sister gets rich, I’m going to buy you ten air conditioners.” Wilson would sit by the open window, practicing. He didn’t have a piano, so he drew black and white keys on a long strip of paper. His fingertips struck the paper silently, over and over again. He said, “When I finally make it to the biggest concert hall in the city…” “The dead-center seat in the front row belongs to Five.” Poppy immediately kicked his shin. “What about me?” Wilson kept a straight face and replied, “You can stand by the door and tear the tickets.” We laughed until our stomachs hurt. Back then, I really believed it. I believed the bitter days would eventually end. And I believed the three of us would never, ever be torn apart. But later, to scrape together the tuition money to send them to college, I took that night-shift job at the toxic demolition site. The hazard pay was massive. Enough to cover both their tuitions in cash. I was so happy. Because ever since we were kids, Wilson and Poppy were always so much brighter, so much smarter than me. I willingly became the stepping stone. I hoisted them up toward a better life. And then, one medical report shattered every beautiful dream we had. They dropped out of college. They started working themselves into the ground. Love and ambition were aggressively ground into dust by an endless mountain of hospital bills. Suddenly, my body felt weightless. So light, as if all the agonizing pain, the IV needles, the crushing guilt of the last seven years… Had finally detached from my soul. My life was actually very short. Too short to ever put on a wedding dress. Too short to see Wilson walk onto a grand stage. Too short to see Poppy buy those ten air conditioners. But it was also so incredibly long. Long enough that the torture after every chemo session felt like walking through hell with no exit. Long enough to watch the two people who loved me most drag themselves into the gutter just to keep me breathing. They used to be so good. They really were good people. It was just that fate was too cruel. It squeezed us until we morphed into monsters we didn’t even recognize. I remembered the day the three of us went to get our legal IDs. I was supposed to be named Hazel, but the social worker messed up the paperwork and wrote Haze. Poppy was furious. She almost threw a chair at the worker, screaming that ‘Haze’ sounded like fading away, like disappearing into nothing. Wilson just smiled, gently rubbing the top of my head. “Then I’ll be the wind,” he said. “I’ll always be there to clear the sky for our little Haze.” What a sick joke fate played. He couldn’t clear the sky for me, and he ultimately lost himself in the dark, too. Looking back on it now, my life really was just like a patch of fog. Nobody asked for it to be there, and everyone was just waiting for it to finally dissipate. How fitting. As the very last drop of energy left my broken body, I closed my eyes for a long, long time. … Wilson carried Poppy all the way back to their cramped apartment. The second he kicked the door shut, Poppy finally broke down and sobbed loudly. “Tomorrow morning, I am going to the clinic. I’m getting rid of it.” “From now on, we dedicate everything to Five. We can never, ever cross that line again…” Wilson’s eyes were bloodshot. It looked like he couldn’t physically handle hearing another word. He violently yanked her by the waist and crashed his lips onto hers. He shoved every apology, every ounce of self-hatred, right back down her throat. Tears were still streaming down Poppy’s cheeks. But the hands she used to push against his chest slowly, inevitably, wrapped around his neck. The heavy, tangled sounds of their breathing entirely drowned out the quiet buzz of a cell phone on the table. Neither of them saw the text message lighting up the screen. “Are you the registered family member of Haze?” “Please come to City General Hospital immediately to sign the remains release forms.”

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1 At Monday’s meeting, my boss announced in front of everyone that I was fired for drinking my coffee without sugar. The excuse was ridiculous and everyone knew the truth. Victor Crane had decided his wife’s brother, Kyle Turner, had fully mastered my core technology. I was now a disposable pawn he was eager to remove. The room went silent. Only Kyle, now VP, failed to hide his smirk. I had spent six years in R&D. First year, I was the only engineer, sleeping in the server room for forty-five hundred a month. Third year, when the system collapsed, I stayed up three days rewriting code. Victor was so moved he promised to take care of me for life. Fifth year, with over a million users, I led endless maintenance on twelve thousand a month. Before the holidays, Victor brought in Kyle, who barely finished middle school, as an intern and asked me to explain the core logic. Now Victor believed Kyle had mastered the sacred art of copy and paste. I, the person who actually understood the technology, had become too hard to manage. He tapped the table, saying the company needed to get younger and my tech was outdated. He seemed to have forgotten something important. The platform’s underlying encryption algorithm was my personal invention patent. I had never transferred it. All this time, I had merely allowed the company to use it for free. I watched Kyle fiddle with my computer, the corner of my mouth lifting slightly. “All right,” I said. “I wish the company a bright future.” I set down my badge and turned to leave. I looked at the two of them. Victor leaned back in his chair and loosened his tie. Beside him, Kyle wore a loose T-shirt and spun a signing pen between his fingers. Victor turned to Kyle. “Are you sure you’ve learned how to maintain the core system?” Kyle slapped the pen onto the table, leaned back, and propped one ankle on the edge. “Victor, relax.” His voice was loud. “I’ve gone through that code a million times. The logic is simple. She deliberately made it complicated to cheat the company out of funding, adding useless encryption layers everywhere.” He tapped the table. “I’ve mastered it. I could rewrite it with my eyes closed.” Victor slapped his thigh and pointed at my nose. “Nora Lane, did you hear that? That’s the difference.” He stood up. “We’ve kept you for six years and paid you such a high salary, only to find out you made simple work complicated just to scam us? Now Kyle can do it. What do we need you for? Pack up and leave.” I didn’t argue. Talking law with someone who didn’t understand law, and technology with a scoundrel, was one of the biggest wastes of time in the world. “Fine.” I picked up my laptop and walked out of the meeting room. Behind me came Kyle’s laughter. Back at my desk, I pulled out a cardboard box and started packing. The colleagues around me all lowered their heads and typed. No one looked my way. Kyle followed me out and leaned against the cubicle divider. “Everyone, keep an eye on her.” He pointed at me. “Don’t let her take company secrets. The stuff on that hard drive is my work. If even one byte is missing, I’ll call the police.” A few interns looked up. I opened the server backend mount interface and found the module tucked away in the corner. Nora Lane Authorization. It was the electronic key to my personal patent authorization. Three years ago, when the company suffered a data leak, I had mounted it in an emergency. No authorization agreement was signed. They had used it free for three years. Now that I was a burden, I clicked Log Out. A popup appeared on the screen. Removing core authorization will cause algorithm failure. Continue? I clicked Yes. The progress bar finished. The small green lock in the system tray disappeared. I reached behind the host machine, unplugged a black encryption dongle, and dropped it into my box. Kyle stared at the screen without speaking. I shook the dongle in my hand. “Since you’ve learned everything, I’ll take this burden with me.” Kyle waved me off. “Get out already. Treating some crappy USB like treasure. What’s on it, selfies? I’d call it trash even if you left it here.” I picked up the box. “As you wish.” As I walked out of the building, my phone vibrated in my pocket. Messages from headhunters and HR reps flooded in. Every interview I had scheduled was canceled. Ms. Lane, apologies. We no longer have an opening. Engineer Lane, we heard you were fired for leaking data. Cooperation terminated. Nora, the industry is small. Behave yourself. I opened the industry group chat. Kyle was spamming it. Warning! Nora Lane lacks the technical skills for her role and was fired for suspected sale of core data! Hiring her means going against CraneTech! She has character issues. If my brother-in-law were less kind, she would already be in police custody! Victor followed with a heartbroken emoji. A few people echoed him. The previously polite industry contacts said nothing. I looked back at the office tower, put my phone away, and tightened my arms around the box. If they wanted to blacklist me, then I no longer needed to leave them any dignity. Let’s see if they could still laugh once that lock came down. Three days after I left, my usual headhunter sent me a voice message. “Engineer Lane, Victor Crane is talking in the industry. He says you faked your technical ability and stole confidential data. Several companies that were interested have paused at the background check stage.” I stood by the road and looked at the rejection notice that had just popped up on my phone. Victor didn’t only want to drive me out. He wanted to cut off my livelihood. Inside CraneTech’s R&D department, Kyle had his feet propped on the desk and a cup of milk tea in his hand. His screen was full of code, but he used only one set of shortcuts. In the Find field, he entered my name. In the Replace field, he entered his own. Then he clicked Replace All. The screen flashed. A prompt appeared. 358 replacements completed. Kyle whistled and selected the patent reference statement at the top of the code. Then he pressed Delete. At three in the afternoon, Victor walked into R&D. “Got the hang of it?” Kyle immediately lowered his legs. The mouse wheel flew, scrolling rapidly through code. “Victor, look. I stayed up last night rewriting all of Nora’s garbage code. Runtime efficiency doubled.” Victor stared at the dense “Author: Kyle Turner” labels on the screen and slapped Kyle’s shoulder hard. “Family is still reliable. That woman fooled us for years. You can do this better.” Kyle switched the page to the website of a tech giant. “Victor, this algorithm is mine now. Why don’t we apply for software copyright and package it as self-developed cutting-edge tech?” He pointed at AtlasCore Technologies on the screen. “AtlasCore is looking for a security partner. If we win this deal, we can go public.” “Go public?” Victor’s eyes lit up. He paced around the office twice, then slapped the desk. “Good. Apply for the copyright immediately. Contact AtlasCore.” He pulled out his phone. “But first, we need to warn Nora so she doesn’t talk nonsense.” In a coffee shop, I was organizing patent documents. My phone vibrated. Victor had sent a text. Still unemployed, I assume? Stop wasting your effort. Just letting you know, Kyle has already developed the second-generation product. The copyright belongs to the company. You’d better watch your mouth. If you dare ride our publicity or leak anything, I’ll make sure you can’t stay in this city. Second-generation product? Changing the name was now a second-generation product. They had deleted the patent statement and dared to use my work to deceive AtlasCore. AtlasCore’s CEO, Samuel Ward, was a technical founder. I closed the text, opened AtlasCore’s official website, and clicked Security Technology Partner Recruitment. I dragged in my resume, uploaded a scanned patent certificate stamped by the national patent office, and clicked Send. At the AtlasCore building, Victor stood in front of the revolving doors in a custom suit. He had used too much hair gel. Kyle followed behind him, clutching a freshly printed white paper titled CraneTech Self-Developed Core Technology. “Victor, we’ve got this.” Kyle tugged his tie and lowered his voice. “I asked around. AtlasCore needs exactly this logic.” Victor flicked nonexistent dust from his cuff. “Of course. When you meet Mr. Ward later, talk more about the technical details. Don’t stutter.” “Relax. I memorized the PowerPoint.” They registered at reception and sat in the waiting area. The side elevator doors opened. I walked out holding a clear document folder, lowering my head to confirm my phone calendar. “Well, isn’t this Engineer Lane?” Kyle’s voice was loud. I looked over. Kyle stood and looked me up and down. “Blacklisted and still managed to sneak in? Are you delivering food or applying to clean bathrooms?” Victor also stood and walked over. “Nora, for a company like AtlasCore, even I had to schedule this meeting half a month in advance.” He pointed toward security in the distance. “What is this? Are they letting anyone in now? Who takes responsibility if something goes missing?” Several passing employees glanced over. I put away my phone. “I’m here for business.” “Business?” Kyle shoved the thick white paper almost into my face. “You’re worthy of discussing business? Look carefully. We’re about to sign a contract. A deal worth tens of millions, using my self-developed technology.” He emphasized the words. “That old system is obsolete. Back then, we asked you to improve it, and you refused. Now you see us rising and want to come beg?” Victor glanced at his watch. “Nora, recognize reality. You and us are no longer on the same level. Leave before you embarrass yourself.” The sound of heels approached. A female secretary came over. The two men immediately bent forward with smiles. “Mr. Crane, Mr. Turner, Mr. Ward and the legal team are waiting in the conference room. This way, please.” Victor lifted his chin at me. “See that? This is the difference. Go home and reflect.” They followed the secretary toward the conference room. As Kyle passed me, he deliberately slammed his shoulder into mine. Watching their backs disappear around the corner, I brushed off the place he hit. He was right. There was a difference in levels. I walked toward another elevator with card access. The doors opened. AtlasCore’s legal counsel, Ms. Keller, held the door-open button. “Engineer Lane, did you bring all the documents?” I lifted the clear folder in my hand. Inside were the original patent certificate and the forensic appraisal report. “All here.” I stepped into the elevator and pressed the conference room floor. Inside the conference room, cold air blew from the central AC. On one side of the long redwood table sat Samuel Ward and AtlasCore’s executives. On the other side, Victor and Kyle sat with their backs perfectly straight. The projector light hit the screen. The PowerPoint page read: Exclusive Patent. Self-Developed. Kyle stood at the screen holding a clicker. “Ladies and gentlemen, this algorithm was independently developed by me over three years. It uses dynamic key logic, with security far exceeding similar products.” AtlasCore’s technical director twirled his pen and nodded. “The logic is excellent. The underlying encryption lock design is creative. This is exactly the kind of technology we need.” Victor clenched his fist and stared at the contract. Once financing came in, the company could go public. Samuel opened the draft contract and looked up. “Since evaluation is complete, let’s sign.” An assistant pushed the contract in front of Victor. Victor twisted open his gold pen. The tip touched the paper. The door opened. Ms. Keller walked in first. I followed behind her with my laptop. Victor’s hand shook, and the pen left a streak of ink across the contract. He shoved his chair back and stood, pointing toward the door. “Nora Lane? Who let you in? Where’s security? Mr. Ward, this person was fired by me. She’s here to cause trouble.” Kyle shouted too. “Get out! This isn’t a place for you to make a scene.” I walked around the table toward the projector. Kyle reached out to block me. I sidestepped, pulled the HDMI cable from his computer, and connected mine. The screen went black. Then my laptop interface appeared. “Mr. Crane, Mr. Turner, before signing, we need to finish the ownership verification process.” I stood beside the projection screen and looked at Kyle, whose head was already sweating. “If you claim you wrote this algorithm, then explain why the underlying logic lock requires my biometric fingerprint to open.” Whispers rose in the conference room. Samuel leaned back in his chair and stared at the contract on the table. Kyle opened his mouth for a long time but said nothing. He only looked at Victor. I pressed Enter. The screen lit up. The black terminal interface with red text stopped scrolling, and a red dialog box appeared in the center. It was the official backend interface of the national patent office, synchronized in real time. Core Patent Name: NL Dynamic Encryption Logic Algorithm Patent Owner: Nora Lane [sole owner] Current Status: Authorization withdrawn. Commercial use strictly prohibited. The gold pen slipped from Victor’s hand and rolled under the table. He stared at the screen, then looked at Kyle. Kyle’s knees weakened, and he collapsed into the chair. I pushed my computer to the center of the table. “Mr. Crane, you may have forgotten something. This patent is mine personally. When it was used at the company, I lent it to you.” I looked at him and continued. “Now that I’ve been fired, the word lend no longer applies.” Then I turned to Samuel. “Mr. Ward, using a stolen patent to obtain financing worth tens of millions constitutes commercial fraud.”

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1 After the car crash scrambled my husband’s brain, he lost the ability to speak. Well, almost. He was left with exactly two words in his vocabulary: “Yes” and “No.” But the real kicker? Every time he answered a question, he physically could not tell a lie. It felt like a twisted gift from the universe. I sat across from him one morning and asked, “Are you sleeping with my best friend?” The color drained from his face. His jaw trembled, but his mouth moved entirely against his will. “Yes.” “Have you been hiding money in secret accounts?” “Yes.” “Is your bank pin your high school sweetheart’s birthday?” “Yes.” Armed with his bizarre new condition, I ruthlessly dismantled his life. I sent his mistress packing, secured every last penny of his assets, and watched him sit there, completely incapable of even cursing me out. Life was perfectly peaceful. Until this afternoon. A ridiculously attractive food delivery guy dropped off my lunch and brazenly asked for my number. I flirted back, deliberately glancing over at my husband, who was staring blankly at the wall like a wooden doll. “Are you even my husband?” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Another guy is hitting on me right in front of you and you don’t even care?” Without missing a beat, he blurted out, “No.” My smile vanished. I froze, my eyes locking onto his dull, vacant pupils. The silence in the room stretched out until it felt suffocating. Finally, I whispered, “Then is my husband, Nolan, dead?” “Yes and no.” A violent chill shot down my spine. I leaned in, staring into his eyes with absolute focus, and asked again. “Are you Nolan?” The man sitting in front of me maintained a perfectly serene expression. “No.” My lips started to tremble. “Then who are you?” He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. The rules of his brain damage dictated he could only answer yes or no questions. And now, apparently, “Yes and no.” I grabbed his face, examining every single inch of skin. It was Nolan’s face. It was identical. I traced the jagged scar near his temple. Three years ago, some idiot dropped a glass bottle from a high rise. Nolan had shoved me out of the way and taken the glancing blow to the head. It took seven stitches to close. This was Nolan’s scar. There was no mistaking it. I sat back, my mind racing in total chaos. Since the accident, this man had been a living crystal ball. He had answered every question with one hundred percent accuracy, even things completely unrelated to his life. He accurately predicted the exact scores of soccer matches. He confirmed insane celebrity scandals before they leaked. I had made a small fortune betting on his answers, and I trusted his “Yes” or “No” with my life. I knew for a fact that if I asked him, “Is an earthquake going to hit in five minutes?” and he said “Yes,” I would grab my emergency bag and sprint out the door without a second thought. But just now, he told me he wasn’t Nolan. And when I asked if Nolan was dead, he gave me a paradoxical answer. The cold terror in my chest began to spread. If this man wasn’t Nolan, then who the hell had I been living with for the past three months? Where was the real Nolan? How could someone be “Yes and no” dead? Was he in a coma somewhere? I was seriously debating whether to tie him to a chair and interrogate him when a sharp, aggressive knocking rattled the front door. I walked over and pulled it open. Two police officers were standing on my porch. “Riley? We’re with the City Police Department. What we’re about to tell you might be a shock, so please try to stay calm.” The older detective pulled out a notepad. “At 9:30 this morning, we received a call. A highly decomposed body was pulled from the riverbed. We found an ID on the remains belonging to your husband, Nolan. We’re here to ask if you know anything about this.” My knees went weak. I grabbed the doorframe. “That’s impossible!” The two officers exchanged a sharp, vigilant look. “Why is it impossible?” I dug my fingernails into my palms, forcing myself to breathe. “Because Nolan isn’t dead. He’s sitting right there.” I pointed toward the living room couch. The man who looked exactly like Nolan was sitting there, his head bowed, completely silent. The officers froze. The older one stepped past me, walking straight into the living room. He pulled out the recovered ID card and held it up to the man’s face. Seeing the exact same features staring back at him, the detective fell dead silent. I hurried over, waving my hands. “My husband is incredibly careless. He loses his wallet all the time. Someone must have stolen his ID and ended up in the river. It’s just a horrible coincidence.” The detective ignored me. He leaned down and looked the man in the eyes. “Excuse me. Are you Nolan?” The man blinked slowly and muttered, “No.” The air in the living room turned to lead. The way the officers looked at me instantly shifted from sympathetic to deeply suspicious. I panicked and scrambled to grab the medical files from the coffee table. “Please, let me explain! Three months ago, my husband was in a severe car crash. His hippocampus was destroyed. He lost his memory, and his speech center is permanently damaged. He can only say ‘Yes’ and ‘No.’ Watch, I’ll prove it.” I stepped in front of the man. “Nolan, do you love eating garbage?” “No.” “Nolan, are these police officers bad guys?” “No.” “Nolan, are you Nolan?” “No.” I turned to the cops with a helpless, exhausted smile. “See? His cognitive function is basically that of a seven year old. You can’t take anything he says literally.” The two officers exchanged another look. They carefully reviewed the official medical reports from the neurology department and stepped outside to make a verification call. When they came back, their shoulders had dropped a fraction. “It seems this might just be a massive misunderstanding,” the older detective said. “But we still need you to come down to the station to give a formal statement.” I asked if I needed to bring Nolan. The detective thought about it. “Bring him. You probably don’t want to leave him home alone in his condition anyway.” So, I brought the man with me to the precinct. Back at the house, I had played a calculated game. I purposefully asked three questions that required a “No” answer. The second question proved the cops were good people, which meant I wasn’t in any immediate danger. But just as I finished signing my statement and prepared to leave the station, the interrogation room door swung open. A female detective walked in, her face like a sheet of ice. “Hold on. I have a few questions.” She signaled the younger cop to leave the room, then sat down directly across from me. “I think you’re lying.” My fingernails dug into my palms again. “What is that supposed to mean?” The female detective stared right through me. She reached over and clicked off the recording camera. Her voice dropped to a low whisper. “Didn’t recognize me, Riley? It’s Harper.” I flinched. I honestly hadn’t recognized her. Harper. We went to high school together. The girl who had been desperately, obsessively in love with Nolan. We used to hate each other. She chased him for years. After Nolan finally rejected her, she dropped off the map. I had no idea she became a cop. “The DNA results from the corpse aren’t back yet,” Harper said coldly. “We can’t confirm if the body is Nolan, which means the man sitting next to you could easily be a hired actor.” She shifted her gaze to the man beside me. Her tone instantly softened. “Nolan? Do you remember me?” He glanced at her for a split second before dropping his head back down. I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it, but a flash of deep pain crossed Harper’s eyes. I spoke up immediately. “His brain is fried. He can’t answer anything outside of a yes or no.” Harper tapped her pen against the metal desk, her eyes narrowed in thought. “Tell me, Riley. Why was Nolan in a car crash to begin with?” My body tensed. The memories flooded back. When I first found out Nolan was cheating, I completely lost my mind. He had started getting sloppy about a year ago. A smudge of lipstick on his passenger seat. A long strand of unfamiliar hair tangled in his coat button. The endless excuses about working late, followed by nights where he just never came home. The signs were blaring like sirens. But he was smart. He physically ripped the dashcam out of his car. He wiped his phone clean every single day. I couldn’t find a shred of hard evidence. When I hysterically confronted him, all I got was his impatient, vicious yelling. “Enough! Do you have any idea how psychotic you look right now?” “You want to check my phone? Check it! But when you find absolutely nothing, you’re going to get on your knees and beg for my forgiveness!” I was completely dead inside. I had the divorce papers drafted. And then, the crash happened. He fell asleep at the wheel and drifted into an oncoming freight truck on a mountain road. I let out a bitter sigh. “Should I thank God for the karma? He crashed his car on his way to see his little mistress and turned himself into an idiot. Go pull the traffic reports. The accident is entirely documented.” Harper nodded slowly. She typed something into her phone. A moment later, a message popped up on her screen. She read it, and her face grew completely rigid. “Everything you just said checks out. But it still doesn’t prove the man sitting next to you is Nolan.” I finally snapped. “Are you insane? Look at his face! You’ve stared at him enough in high school to know what he looks like.” Harper cut me off. “Riley, I think you murdered Nolan.” I let out a harsh, incredulous laugh. “If you keep talking like this, I’m filing a formal complaint against you.” “A body gets pulled out of a river, bloated and rotting, and you’re claiming it’s Nolan just because you found his wallet nearby?” “It’s not just the wallet,” Harper said. “The height and weight of the corpse perfectly match Nolan’s last physical exam.” Her voice suddenly dropped to a fragile whisper. “And there’s a tattoo.” “The face might be decayed, but the tattoo on the inner wrist is pristine. It’s totally unique.” She swallowed hard, closing her eyes. “Because I inked it on him myself.” The interrogation room fell completely silent. The man beside me hadn’t made a sound. But the second Harper mentioned the tattoo, his fingers twitched. Without hesitation, I grabbed his arm and violently shoved his sleeve up to his elbow. Right there, on his inner wrist, was an incredibly ugly, amateur tattoo of a small dog. Harper’s face lost all its color. “Don’t tell me you gave that exact same tattoo to two different people,” I sneered. “I always wondered why a guy like him had such a pathetic piece of ink. Now I know it was your handiwork.” “Does your face hurt yet, Harper? Still want to accuse me? What is my motive for killing him?” Her brows knitted together tightly. “A tattoo can be copied…” I cut her off aggressively. “Copied? So you’re telling me I found a guy who looks identical to my husband, matches his exact physical build, and then forced him to get a matching tattoo? Why would I go through that kind of psychotic effort?” “He cheated on me, and karma turned him into a drooling idiot who relies entirely on me. If I play the role of the devoted, heartbroken wife, his wealthy parents treat me like royalty. I have total control over every cent he owns.” “If he dies, his parents swoop in and freeze his assets for probate. What exactly do I gain from him being dead?” The older detective suddenly opened the door and stepped in, coughing loudly. “Detective, watch your line of questioning. Stick to protocol.” I leaned back in my metal chair, crossing my arms with a cold smile. I wasn’t worried. Because I had never killed anyone. No matter how deep they dug, my hands were clean. What terrified me was why the dead guy had Nolan’s ID. And who the hell the dead guy actually was. I had to protect the secret of this man’s “Yes/No” truth-telling ability. If the cops found out he was a human lie detector, things would spiral out of control. Harper grilled me for another hour, but she got nowhere. Based on the estimated time of death of the river corpse, the security cameras around my house proved I had a rock-solid alibi. When Harper and the older detective stepped out to check on the DNA rush order, I leaned in close to the man beside me. “Is the real Nolan dead?” He stayed silent for a second, then whispered, “Yes and no.” “Everything you say is a hundred percent true, right?” “Yes.” My racing heart finally settled. I couldn’t help but mock him. “Nolan, you really are a piece of work. Cheating with some random girl, and keeping your pathetic high school stalker hung up on you for years.” “Wait. If the real Nolan is ‘Yes and no’ dead… is he a vegetable?” He thought about it. “No.” I frowned, but decided to drop it. The only thing that mattered right now was getting out of this police station. Harper walked back in. Her eyes were burning with deep, bitter frustration. “The DNA results are back. The body in the river is not Nolan. We’re running it through the national database now.” I smirked. “Great. Then we’re leaving.” She threw her arm out, blocking the door. “The dead guy isn’t Nolan, but the guy standing next to you is even weirder.” “My gut tells me he isn’t Nolan. I think you’ve hidden Nolan somewhere, and this guy is a body double.” I stared her down. “Your gut? Is this how you conduct police work, Harper? Making up conspiracy theories?” “Just a gut feeling,” she muttered with a bitter smile. “Forget it. You’re free to go.” I grabbed the man’s hand and started walking toward the exit, my heels clicking sharply against the tile. Just as we reached the hallway, Harper called out. “Wait. You said earlier he can only answer yes or no questions. Right?” A sudden, sharp spike of dread pierced my chest. Before I could react, Harper sprinted forward and grabbed the man by the wrist. “Did Riley kill the real Nolan?” I froze. And then, the man standing next to me opened his mouth, his voice crystal clear.

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1 “Grace, I’ll have to trouble you again this time.” Monica Shaw’s voice drifted over, casual and entitled. I closed the handoff log in my hands and turned to meet her eyes. “What do you mean?” “I got into next week’s marathon. I talked it over with Dr. Harding, and we both think it’s best if you stay.” She smiled as she flattered me. “You’re the best nurse in our department. If you’re here, I feel much more at ease.” There were seven or eight people at the nurses’ station. Not one of them said a word. Five years. I had almost never adjusted shifts for time off. The hospital was already too busy to breathe. To support Monica’s dream, nearly every nurse at our station had covered shifts for her. I had covered the most. This year, my fiancé insisted I take a few days off no matter what so we could shoot our wedding photos. For those three days, I had worked ahead for a whole month, bought milk tea for the entire department to swap shifts, and even gotten Dr. Harding’s signature. But just as I was about to leave, Monica came over with an announcement, telling me to stay and cover for her. “I can’t cover it.” I pushed the handoff book aside. My volume didn’t change, but every word was clear. Monica froze. She clearly hadn’t expected the department’s easiest pushover to suddenly grow a spine. “Monica, can you skip this marathon?” I tried to keep my tone negotiable. “My wedding shoot already has a five-thousand-dollar deposit. We booked it half a year ago. My fiancé even pushed back a project for these few days. The photographer’s schedule is nearly impossible to adjust.” Monica tossed the IV labels in her hand onto the desk. “Grace, honestly, you have no sense of commitment.” She turned around, her face impatient. “The marathon was set a year ago. The sponsors have already printed my jersey. You suddenly insist on taking wedding photos now? Aren’t you deliberately making things hard for me?” Making things hard for her? I was so angry I almost laughed. In five years, I had gone from intern to backbone of the department. The most difficult patients, the pickiest doctors, in the end they all came to me. Most of the thank-you banners hanging on the nurses’ station wall had my name written on them. Over eighteen hundred days, I had never taken a full holiday. And Monica? She entered the hospital the same year as I did, but she still often missed veins when starting an IV. Yet thanks to running marathons everywhere, she had built herself a sunny-goddess image. For two years straight, the Excellent Nurse award had gone to her. Paula, the head nurse, saw I was about to speak again and hurriedly tugged me aside. “Grace, come out with me.” “Grace, how about this?” Paula tried to coax me. “You cover one day for her, and I’ll cover another. We’re colleagues. Don’t make things ugly.” Looking at Paula, I felt fire trapped in my chest. “Paula, you know better than anyone. For this break, I practically lived in the department last month.” “And all the messes Monica caused lately, wasn’t I the one cleaning them up? Bathing patients, turning them, calming families.” Paula sounded like she was defending herself. “I had already arranged your shift. But Dr. Harding personally called. He said the nurses’ station should overcome the difficulty internally.” All my hard work meant nothing in front of Monica’s so-called honor. I looked at her and asked one last time, my face cold, “Why me again?” Paula said, “It’s already at this point. Don’t make it unpleasant.” “I asked around. You’re not married yet, and your skills are solid. Help me this once. I’ll definitely make it up to you later.” Because I wasn’t married, my time wasn’t worth anything. Because I was good at my job, I had to be the one who endured. I didn’t argue with Paula anymore. I picked up the schedule and turned toward Dr. Harding’s office. Just as I reached his door, my phone vibrated twice in my pocket. I stopped outside and opened the screen. In the department group chat, Monica had sent a message. Marathon schedule confirmed. Thank you, Nurse Grace Bennett, for putting the bigger picture first. I’ll bring another medal back for everyone! Underneath was a photo of her holding last year’s trophy beside Dr. Harding. One of the pharmacy nurses privately messaged me. Grace, just endure it. She’s tight with the director. No need to clash with them. I put my phone away, knocked, and walked in. The right wall of Dr. Harding’s office was covered with Monica’s “achievements” from the past few years. “Grace, what brings you here?” Dr. Harding looked up. He was still holding the marathon promotional brief. I walked over and spread five years of attendance records across his desk. He glanced at them but didn’t touch them. “Grace, you’re usually sensible. Why are you being so stubborn today?” He leaned back in his chair. “You’re the pillar of the department. Everyone recognizes your ability. Just suffer a little this once.” “Dr. Harding, my wedding shoot deposit is five thousand dollars. The photographer can’t reschedule.” Dr. Harding gave a short laugh, then spoke as if lecturing a child. “Young people today are so dramatic. In our day, one photo was enough to get married. Call your boyfriend over. I’ll talk to him.” I looked at him. That face full of the word sacrifice made me want to vomit. “Dr. Harding, in these five years, I’ve covered Monica’s shifts twenty-seven times.” I pointed at the attendance sheet. “Nights, holidays, weekends. All me. More than half of the marathons she’s run were possible because I was covering her shifts. But this time, I really can’t.” “Why can’t you? Young people should prioritize the bigger picture.” Dr. Harding cut me off. “I’ll be honest with you. This shift change was my decision.” “After Monica came to me, I first considered Nurse Young, but she’s too inexperienced and careless. Professor Warren doesn’t like her.” “Then I thought about Paula, but you know she’s the head nurse. Her overtime pay is three times yours. The department budget is tight right now. We can’t move the funds around.” “Paula will retire in a couple of years. You’re skilled. Work a little more. Look further ahead. Don’t fixate on such a small thing.” “What?” I stared at him in disbelief. So because I was cheaper, because I was obedient, I deserved to be bullied. And he dared say it straight to my face. “If we’re a hospital and the budget is tight, why are we reimbursing Monica’s travel expenses?” I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Monica is competing to bring honor to our hospital. If you throw a tantrum at a time like this, aren’t you embarrassing us? You don’t even have that much awareness?” “Dr. Harding, if Monica is going to run the marathon, shouldn’t the online schedule be changed officially? You’re just announcing it in the group chat?” Dr. Harding’s smile vanished. He set his thermos heavily on the desk. “You’ve reminded me. I’ll handle the procedural issue and make sure there are no loopholes.” “I’ll have Paula redo the schedule. You don’t need to worry.” He stood, walked around the desk, and patted my shoulder. “I’ll talk to Monica about the later arrangements when I have time. Go back to work. The ward can’t run without you.” “The hospital will consider the schedule as a whole. I hope you cooperate.” Dr. Harding picked up the attendance sheet and ushered me out of his office. I stopped in the hallway, my chest tight with anger. “Hello, Monica.” Dr. Harding’s voice floated through the door. “She came to make a fuss just now. It’s fine. Run with peace of mind. Don’t worry about the schedule. I’ll have Paula arrange it.” After a brief pause, he laughed. “What’s one little nurse? They’re everywhere. Do I not know her family situation? What can she do?” Mortgage to pay. Elderly family members to treat. That was their leverage over me. I looked down at the schedule in my hand. So in their eyes, I was that cheap. When Monica saw me coming back down the hallway, she smiled and leaned close. “Grace, Dr. Harding told me everything. Thank you for putting the bigger picture first. I’ll buy you milk tea when I’m back.” I stopped and looked at her. At her well-maintained face. The smile on Monica’s face stalled. She instinctively shrank back. I said nothing. I pulled out my chair and sat down. Then I opened my phone and tapped into the pinned chat. Honey, the wedding shoot might have to be postponed. I’m sorry. At the top of the chat box, it kept showing that he was typing. It lasted two full minutes. Finally, two words appeared on the screen. It’s okay. I stared at those two words. In the reflection of the computer monitor, tears fell without warning onto the back of my hand. Paula pushed the door open and beckoned me into the duty room. She sighed first. “My mother-in-law was admitted last night too, and my younger one still has tutoring.” Paula rubbed her temples. “Grace, I really can’t manage the schedule right now. Dr. Harding already gave the order. Just treat it as helping me once. Just this once.” “Why am I always the one who has to be wronged?” The duty room went silent. Paula lowered her head and looked at the tips of her shoes. She didn’t answer. I stood and walked out. “I’ll take that as a yes, okay?” Paula called behind me. I didn’t stop. As soon as I returned to the nurses’ station, Paula posted the new electronic schedule in the department group chat. Dr. Harding followed with a notice, then specifically tagged me. Grace Bennett, reply when received. Everyone should learn from Monica Shaw’s fighting spirit in bringing honor to the department. Monica replied immediately with “Received,” followed by three fist-pump emojis. Then a line of “Received” responses filled the group chat. That parade of compliance felt like a string of slaps landing on my face. Monica passed the nurses’ station and tapped the counter with her fingers. “Oh, haven’t checked your phone yet? Dr. Harding specifically tagged you. Hurry and reply. Don’t keep him waiting.” I ignored her and continued sorting the orders in my hands. When Dr. Harding passed by on rounds, he didn’t look at the chart. Instead, he reached out and pressed his hand on my shoulder. “Grace, work hard. For the year-end excellence award, I’ll prioritize you. That’s your reward. Understand?” His eyes swept over my still-lit phone screen. His tone cooled. “Reply to the group message. Don’t make hospital leadership think our department lacks unity. This is not only scheduling. It’s political awareness.” I looked up at him. He didn’t wait for my answer. He had already led a group of interns down the corridor. I took my phone to the restroom stall and called the photography studio. They couldn’t change the date. Postponing would count as breach of contract. The penalty was thirty-eight hundred dollars. Their voice was polite and businesslike. “All right.” I hung up. Thirty-eight hundred. More than half a month’s salary. Gone. After work, I went to the parking lot. Aaron was leaning against the car door waiting for me. He stared at my eyes for two seconds. “Why were you crying?” He straightened and started toward the outpatient building. “I’m going to find that marathon champion.” I grabbed his arm. “You don’t have to endure this,” Aaron turned back. “Quit and come home. I’ll support you.” I held onto him and said, “I’m not enduring it. I’m waiting.” Late that night, I sat in front of my computer and opened my phone album. One by one, I imported screenshots of Monica’s shift swaps from the past five years into the computer and began building a timeline. “Grace, what scheme are you cooking up instead of sleeping?” Professor Warren poked his head over to look at the screen. The old man was famously difficult. When his temper flared, he dared scold even the hospital president. But he was relatively polite to me. Because my skills were solid, and I never dropped the ball. “Just organizing some materials, Professor.” “The department is quiet now. Go nap for a while.” The old man shook his head and left. I looked at the growing list in the document and pressed Save. The weekend nurses’ station was chaos. Monica had dumped a pile of unfinished work and run off. The families of Beds 104 and 107 had already slammed the desk three times. I could only check the orders one by one. Every time I finished something, I entered it into the system and took a photo of the work record with my phone. During the brief gap when I shoveled down food, Nurse Liu pushed her phone toward me. On the screen, Monica flashed peace signs at the camera. “Even with certain colleagues failing to understand me, I still stood at the starting line.” “Life is not only the grind in front of us. It is also marathons and distant horizons.” Comments rolled past. Queen energy. So inspiring. I swallowed cold takeout and pushed Nurse Liu’s phone back. Monica won first place in the women’s division of the Harbor City Marathon. The local TV interview video was forwarded in the department group chat eight hundred times. On camera, she held up the medal with reddened eyes and said the medal belonged to herself for insisting on her dream, and she thanked the hospital for its tolerance. Although certain colleagues did not support her, she thanked the leadership for prioritizing the bigger picture. Dr. Harding stood in the middle of the nurses’ station, glowing with pride. “Our department needs exactly this kind of spirit, striving to bring honor to the hospital.” His gaze swept over the top of my head. “Don’t always stare at your own tiny patch of land. That’s petty.” Morning meeting ended. Monica came over with two Starbucks cups and placed one on my desk. “Grace, my legs are so sore I can barely get downstairs.” She rubbed her calves. “I’ll have to trouble you to cover for me for the next two days too. Once I recover, I’ll treat you to a big meal.” The day after tomorrow was the final deadline for changing the wedding shoot. I took the coffee but didn’t respond. Monica took that as compromise. “Oh, I know you’ve worked hard. I’ll remember this favor personally.” She patted my shoulder and turned toward the locker room. On the computer screen, Wednesday’s schedule was clean and neat. Day nurse: Monica Shaw. Night nurse: Monica Shaw. Doctor on duty: Professor Warren Price. The hospital president’s mentor. The strictest academic authority in the hospital. Five minutes before my shift ended, I opened the electronic handoff system and pulled up the file for Bed 105. Margaret Hargrove. Pulmonary infection. The most important line: penicillin allergy. Mrs. Hargrove happened to be Dr. Harding’s mother-in-law. She had been transferred into our department yesterday. I typed the final line into the handoff record. Bed 105 patient’s recent medication plan must be strictly reviewed. Responsible nurse: Monica Shaw. Please ensure proper handoff. Click. Upload. The system light turned green. The timestamp was generated and locked automatically. This record synchronized across the entire network. When I walked out of the outpatient building, Aaron’s car was parked by the road. There were two cups of milk tea on the passenger seat. “Let’s go.” Aaron hit the gas. “The photographer said the outdoor location is empty today. We can shoot extra sets.” I stuck in the straw and took a big sip. Behind me, the nurses’ station sign glowed. I had left behind a handoff record. And on it, the responsible nurse was Monica Shaw.

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